#my other favorite authors have all been bullied off of here in some fashion. but not him.

[buckybarnesdiaries]

white wolf: “the story of a first date”

first part — second part — third part — fourth part (soon)

© @capsgrantrogers

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Sam helps Bucky to ask you out for a date and it's a disaster, but he gets it.

word count: 3.147 words. (not sorry, it worth it, i promise!!!)

warnings/tags: none. bucky being the cutest gentleman in the whole wide world, and sam keeping an eye on him.

author notes: as it happened with the first part, i'm not really happy with the result but i had so much fun writing it and i think that that made this writing perfect, so i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed it. none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

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The car stopped because of a red light, a moment where Sam took the advantage to turn at his copilot, glancing at Bucky from top to bottom in complete silence. Analyzing him. The soldier tilted his head raising an eyebrow, showing his curiosity about what the hell he was doing.

“What are you gonna wear, uh?” Sam asked then, maintaining a serious gesture on his face.

“Clothes”. Unworriedly, he put back his eyes to the front window.

“You probably look good naked, but that’s not what I’m talking ‘bout”.

“Just… some jeans, a shirt, and a jacket”.

“And shoes, I guess”.

Bucky turned on his seat towards his friend, squinting confused for the interrogatory. “Who cares?”

“About the shoe—”

“About the clothes”.

“Man, it’s a date! Do you wan’her to remember this night as the night Bucky Barnes shown up as a Russian bum?”

“I’m from Brookl—”.

“Yeah, but you look like mother Russia just spat you to the world”.

Sam rolled his eyes as a sigh escaped his mouth. Shaking his head, he took the next corner to the fifth avenue changing the planes they had in mind. A good outfit meant a good date. A good date meant happy soldier. Happy soldier meant no trouble. See the point? So the Falcon would take care of the Winter Soldier today. If only Steve could see them. He’d feel proud, that was for sure. They visited a couple of shops, finally letting Sam take control over the situation and pick the clothes he would wear for you. He had good taste, everybody knew that, and Bucky couldn’t complain about his choices.

Even less when the distinctive black suit dressed his anatomy to perfection. Spinning around in front of the mirror, he felt different. He looked different. He looked good, but not as he’d like. Holding the bucket of flowers once he was ready, Bucky left his apartment straight to the garage under the building. He was nervous, he couldn’t lie. But he had that sensation inside him that made him believe everything would be okay for the first time since he woke up.

The road didn’t take him more than ten minutes, not really worried about the time given that he had planned to arrive a little sooner than accorded. Life seemed like it was smiling at him, finding a parking lot in the same entrance. Landing his blue eyes on the rearview mirror, Bucky took a last view at his reflection, brushing back his hair as he used to do in the forties. He grabbed then the flowers he bought for you and stepped out of the car, trying to remember the advice Sam gave him. Resting his back against the copilot's door, he waited impatiently for you.

“Hey, you”.

His heart stopped for a second, raising his orbs to the man coming closer. Before he could react, the man in question tucked a hand beneath Bucky's jacket. Patting him down.

“What the hell are you doing, Sam?” He questioned irritatedly, slapping his hands and causing him to laugh.

“Just checking you didn't bring the notecards again”.

“Yeah, very funny…”

“Man, look at you! Should be illegal to look this good, uh?” Sam helped him to put on the jacket again, receiving another slap from his friend.

“Don't touch me”. Scowling, he fixed the flowers in his left hand, wanting them to be perfect. “Anyway, what are you doing here?”

“Watch you till (Y/N) comes. Lemme take a picture, I feel like a proud father on his son's prom day”.

“You're not m— Get the hell outta here, Sam”.

“Fighting again, kids? Should I call your mama?”

As Bucky heard you scoff, his soul abandoned. His pupils dilated. His legs trembled. And he could swear that everything disappeared around him when he watched you going downstairs, swinging your hips unconsciously sensual, with a black dress fitting you like a glove. If this morning Bucky wanted to marry you, now he wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side. Your makeup was on point, just like your hair, not being too formal but enough to run him out of words.

“Steve is off-duty, so, what 'you gonna do, soldier?” Sam mocked, an instant before noticing how pale Bucky was. He couldn't help but slap the back of his neck to bring him back to reality.

“I, uh… flowers… I bought you…”

“You're not Yoda”. Sam whispered as the other offered you the present.

“C'mon, stop messing with him”. You clicked your tongue, right before you drew an adorable smile on your lips, leaning to kiss Bucky's cheek. “Thank you”.

“You're welcome”. He just answered, responding to your same gesture while opening the door for you.

“Such a gentleman…” His playful murmur made Bucky frown and nudge him, trying to stop him from saying anything else and ruin the occasion.

“I'll bring him back at ten”. You joked palming his chest.

“The point is to not bring him back to me”. Sam cackled, shaking his head and taking a step back.

Once in the car turning on the engine, James joined the road after checking you were good. Never in his life he had driven with so much care as if he was carrying a bomb by his side. He set on the radio, not really knowing how to start a conversation, watching you through the corners of his eyes caressing the flowers over your lap. No one had bought you them before, thinking it was a thing that only happened in movies. But then, you met Bucky. An old-fashioned man, making yourself wonder how he was the same the news used to say he was a cold-blood assassin.

“What have you thought?”

“Uh?”

“About the date”.

“Sam told me about a rest—”.

“Okay, okay, Bucky. Pull over”. You couldn't help but burst into laughter, as his face was pale again thinking you were about to step out and end the date.

“Sorry, did I…?”

You swiveled at him on your seat, kissing your teeth and squinting inevitably. Studying his face you knew how afraid he was, and it was the most adorable reaction ever. You could have kissed at that precise instant, but it'd have been a little awkward.

“Where do you wanna go?”

The question didn't take him by surprise, actually. He was still getting used to doing the things he desired and not what other people asked him to do. The restaurant was a fancy place with a distinguished menu according to what his friend explained to him, but it wasn't the kind of site that he'd normally go, or that represented him.

“When I, uh… came back, I discovered that my favorite burger joint in Brooklyn was still standing”. Bucky told you, facing you after finishing the sentence. “They prepare the best burgers of the whole New York and you can decide what ingredients add, and the bread, and the kind of meat. And it still having the original decoration”.

You reclined on your seat, just staring at him talking with that kind of burning passion about something he loved. Puckering your lips, you nodded your chin. The fact that not only he wanted to take you to a different place, but a place that he used to go to when he was young made butterflies flutter within your belly. Bucky wanted to make you part of his future, but also his past. That made the difference.

“Sounds good to me”.

“Really?” He inquired funnily confused, wrinkling his nose and forehead.

“Really”.

The shine that appeared within his eyes made you place a hand on his cheek to urge him to turn his head and drive again. An innocent gesture that provoked him a lively giggle. If that man knew all the things he caused you, he'd have taken the step months ago.

As the night went on and Bucky was losing his shyness, he talked to you about the good old times. Before HYDRA, before the winter, before the war. When he was a kid with no worries more than keeping Steven safe from the bullies. It was nice to disconnect from the present, from the gazes around the two of you, from the back talks, only enjoying your dinner and your conversation. You talked to Bucky about how was to be raised on a farm, surrounded by open fields and animals, to join the army years later. Without going into details that could make him remember the old bad times, you told him about what you used to do, your missions, and how you were wounded in combat after being shot and fell from a helicopter.

Bucky felt confident enough to compare it with how everything started. Falling from a wagon to the snow. But as soon as his voice became lower, you couldn't help but hold his gloved left hand and intertwine your fingers with his. And you could swear you felt him shaking for a brief moment because of your touch.

“So, what, uh? It was a forties trend to jump into the void?” You tried to joke, wanting to feel relaxed.

“Yeah, seems like”. He mumbled curling up his lips. “Listen… I really want to… open up, and I know it’s easier with you because… y’know, you work doing this”.

“Hold on, Bucky”. You laughed waving your free hand, shaking your chin as you closed your eyes for a second. “That has sounded really bad”.

“Wait, wh— Oh, shit, no, no, no”.

For the first time since you walked into the small restaurant, his laughter was lively, unworriedly, honest.

“Take it easy, just kidding”. You grinned, nailing your elbow on the table to rest your cheek on your palm. “But… this isn’t work. We’re not doing therapy, we’re… knowing each other. And I don’t want to pressure you to talk about something you don’t feel prepared to, okay?”

“I know”.

Bucky couldn’t believe how much you seemed to empathize with him, not judging his acts nor his past, not deciding that the date wasn't a good idea nor running away. He couldn’t believe the less importance you were giving to his arm made of vibranium; usually, people used to freak out, to feel frightened somehow about the things it could do. But you were there, fingers playing with the others as if it was the most common and natural act in the world. And, for you, it was. That was you in all your best. Considerate, smart, patient, lovingly. The rainbow after a stormy life. Everything that Bucky needed in his life to start from scratch and be his better version. A shoulder to lean on and a reason to come back home.

“Was afraid of asking you out”. He confessed after some seconds admiring each other. Any person closer would say you had been dating for a long, long time by the way you had to keep silent and not feel uncomfortable.

“Why?”

“You came from war and made your world a place to live. I’m still stuck there”.

“I have my own red flags”. Clicking your tongue, you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, really? Please, surprise me”. Bucky teased you sitting up on his chair, not loosening the gentle grip around your left hand.

“I put the milk before cereals”.

“Oh… Oh, God”. He let out, pretending to be horrified and running a hand on his face. “Goddammit… you’re a monster, ma’am. I don’ think this is going to work”.

“Excuse me?” You chuckled, parting your lips in a breath while leaning over the table to palm his right shoulder. “It wasn’t me who added lettuce to the burger”.

“What? What’s the matter with that, uh?”

“Lettuce kills the savor!”

“Y’know what kills the savor? Ketchup. Today, people use ketchup literally with everything… And that’s disgusting”.

“Okay! Next time, no lettuce, and… no ketchup”.

“That’s a big challenge”. Bucky scoffed tenderly squeezing your hand between his cold fingers.

“I’ll live, Sergeant Barnes”. You narrowed your eyes and crinkled your nose at the same time.

“I was talking about a second date, not about your issue with ketchup”.

“So was I”.

A goofy smirk appeared on Bucky’s face, biting his inner cheek as he assented with his head. Seeing you again, knowing that you wanted it —that you wanted him—, made him trust Dr. Raynor’s words. He was having a second chance to do the right thing. To live and to be.

You wanted to add something else when the clock in his wrist started to beep. Curious, you raised an eyebrow. “We have to leave”.

“Why?”

“Sam told me you work tomorrow at eight, which means you’ll get up at six and a half… maybe seven. While I pay, take you home, all that stuff… I don’ want you to be tired in the morning”.

Bucky would never stop to amaze you, looking up to him in silence to contemplate how he called the bartender and beckoned his free hand to ask for the bill.

“What…? What are you doing?” He chuckled embarrassed, taking his beer to sip.

You cleared your throat when you realized how stupid you should look right now, shaking your head as you freed his cold hand from yours to find unlock your phone as soon as the guy brought the dataphone.

“Hey, no, no. I asked you out, I pay”. Bucky began to fight with you, provoking some laughs on the table as you tried to put your screen above the tpv.

“Well, welcome to the twenty-first century”. You hummed as the operation was confirmed.

“I’ll pay next time”. He declared licking his incisors, prior to his lips.

You wished the ride back home to last forever, not wanting to end the date. But the car reached your neighborhood in a blink of eyes. You couldn't help but sigh barely appreciably for your companion, gazing through the window until double parking in front of your apartment. You turned towards him, hearing the engine shut off. Bucky seemed disappointed like you, not being able to remember when was the last time he had a break, he had fun. The date was nicer than he expected but the idea of not knowing exactly when he was going to see you again was killing him from the inside.

“I'll accompany you”. He declared undoing his seat belt as you did to step out.

You reacted with a delicate smile, holding the bucket of flowers against your abdomen while walking to the front door of the building. That moment was a little uncomfortable, not being sure about how to say goodbye, just looking like two teens in love.

“Thank you for tonight, Bucky”. You uttered without thinking about it. “It's been the best night I've ever had”.

“Next will be better, I promise”.

“That's a big challenge”. You chuckled repeating his words a while ago in the restaurant.

“I'll live”. He nodded convinced, glancing at you bowing down your interest to the red roses between your hands.

How could you tell him that you were dying to be together again? That you wouldn't mind waking up sooner and having breakfast? You bit your inner upper lip, trying to find the correct words to say, without sounding like you were feeling something else to a physical attraction. Bucky was hot as hell, that wasn't up to debate, but he was the kindest and charmingest man you had known. He was sensible and strong at the same time. You both complemented the other like the pieces of a puzzle and you never thought something like that could happen to you. To find your other half and having it so clear you didn't want anyone else.

“I am, uh… free tomorrow”.

His words pushed you out of your thoughts, putting up your attention to a Bucky almost flushing, stroking the back of his head, and having the impression that he could scare you.

“Got a break for lunch, if you want”. You proposed without hesitation.

His eyes sparkled with happiness, holding your left hand with his to bring it to his mouth, placing a fond kiss on the back. Such a gentleman, like Sam said, inducing your cheeks to burn. And then, you saw him doubting about taking another step. You wanted it too to happen, tho, leaning forward to press your lips together. Your eyes snapped closed at that precise instant, not having any rush, tasting each other's and shortening the distance between both of you by his free arm getting wrapped around your waist. The kiss was innocent but passionate. It was warm, intimate, trying to transmit all the chemistry you woke up within the other with only one look, with only one smile. Breaking it —much to your regret— when you needed air to breathe. And even so, Bucky rested his forehead against yours freeing your hand to place it on the right side of his neck.

Neither of the two of you opened your eyes, extending the moment as much as you could. You felt he craved to spend the night with you, and you desired it too, but you also felt that he needed some time to get used to this new world he was living in. It wasn't easy. You thought back to the months after the war, the recovery, the loneliness you forced yourself to be in. You were in Afghanistan for three months. He had been fighting since nineteen forty. And he didn't want to ruin what you were building together.

“I should leave”. Bucky murmured against his wishes.

“See you tomorrow”.

At the moment you opened your eyes to meet the pale blue ones, your whole body felt weak. You saw the brightness in them after letting him know that the second date was going to happen and that it wasn't just a formality before disappearing, wiping out any minimal doubt by kissing him again. The last kiss. A good night, I'll dream with you kiss.

“I'm gonna play this on your wedding day, definitely”.

You screamed because of the unexpected metallic voice coming closer, clinging to Bucky's neck as his heart raced too. Redwing was suspended in the air some steps away from you, being controlled by Sam. Who else is not him, uh?

“I'm starting to think you have separation anxiety”. The soldier growled trying to hit the flying device with his flesh hand, hearing you laughing against his chest.

“Good night, kids”. You chuckled separating from Bucky.

“No kiss for me, soldier?”

“I'm not gonna kiss that thing, Samuel”.

“What about a howl, White wolf? Would be very appro—”.

“White wo—”.

“Please, don't. Don't ask”. Bucky begged you, licking his bottom lip while rubbing the back of his head, clearly ashamed.

“Hope you show me one day what it means…”

“Oh, he will… Just wait till the full moon”.

“Sam!” Bucky and you yelled in unison, you playfully, he annoyed.

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #james bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan fluff #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky x y/n #bucky x you

[shotsbyshae]

In the Dark

Warnings: Language

Words: 2.9k

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Summary: You only thought Ransom was an asshole, wait until you meet his family. Sequel to My Oh My & Trouble

Song: In the Dark by Camila Cabello

Thank you @hysteria87​ and @sagechanoafterdark​ for supporting me with this annoyingly lovable asshole.

*Spoiler free: no movie connections whatsoever.

I can see you’re scared of your emotions, I can see you’re hoping, you’re not hopeless.

“No.”

Your answer is quick, and Ransom flicks his eyes up at you over the top of his laptop screen, watching as you shake your head adamantly.

“Hell no.”

“Why not?” he questions, obviously annoyed by your quick response.

For the last two weeks your free time has been filled with his smug, arrogant ass. You’ve been fielding question after question on Steve’s life and maybe it’s selfish, but you just want a weekend to yourself.

You keep your attention on the towels your folding. They’re still warm – fresh from the dryer. “I – I have a date.”

“Since when?” he’s not convinced.

Glancing over you narrow your eyes at him before spotting your phone on the coffee table between the two of you. His gaze follows yours as you reach for the device, and he moves quickly, grabbing it before you do.

“What?” Ransom exclaims. “You going to swipe right on some random guy. Risk wasting your weekend on some asshole you don’t even know.” A sly smile crosses his face. “At least you know me.”

You glare at him for a moment, you’ve learned to never take anything at face value with Ransom, “What’s going on? Why even ask me? Don’t you have a little black book?”

There’s a sigh, his lips forming a thin line before he places your phone back on the table, “Granddad is the only one who knows what I’m doing, and I want to keep it that way. My parents are – difficult – to say the least.” He leans back in the chair and you can see a hint of anxiety there. “Granddad wants to meet you – the muse behind my idea. That’s what he calls you.”

You raise a curious eyebrow at him, “But if no one else knows what you’re doing, then who would your parents think I am?” He gives a half-smile and you shake your head again. “No.”

“It’s cliché, but –”

“Fuck no,” you reiterate. The thought of meeting Harlan Thrombey is one thing but having to pose as Ransom’s girlfriend is an entirely different story.

“Okay then,” he responds defeatedly before closing his laptop. “How about three?”

“Three what?”

“Three thousand.” A small snort of laughter escapes you, and Ransom smirks. “Did you just – snort?”

“My God,” you remark, standing up. “You don’t like being told no, do you?”

He tilts his head, the unimpressed look on his face is one you’ve seen before. Steve used to give you the same look when you’d question his authority or irk him in anyway. It’s a bit of a weakness for you and you hate yourself for it.

“Look it’s just one day,” Ransom says, absent-mindedly rubbing his earlobe between his thumb and forefinger – his tell. He’s really not wanting to go alone for some reason, which makes you curious. His voice is barely audible when he says the word, which is obviously foreign to him. “Please.”

You gather the towels with a sigh. “Make it five thousand.” A mischievous smile crosses your face. “And I’ll be your Julia Roberts – to an extent.”

There’s a boyish grin on his face as he nods in agreement, “Deal.”

***

The house is enormous, and you can’t help but feel in awe of it as you step out of the car. Adjusting the black skirt which you’d paired with tights and a wine-colored sweater, you can’t help but feel a little anxious about what you’ve gotten yourself into.

Approach it like a mission.

That’s the thought you keep you pushing through your mind. Hopefully like all weekends, this one will fly by and be over before you know it.

Ransom makes his way around the front of his car, offering his arm, “Shall we?” You glance from his arm to his face and roll your eyes dramatically before walking towards the house, leaving him standing by the car alone. “Well, this should be fun.” He mutters to himself as he strides quickly to catch up with you.

He opens the front door, and you step inside, the heels of your boots clicking audibly in the foyer. The house is warm – cozy – exactly as you expected it to be from the outside with it’s gothic décor. You begin to shrug off your coat, your back to the staircase in the corner when you hear the squeak of the wood from someone descending them.

“Your parents just called,” an older man’s voice states. “They’re running late.”

“With any luck I’ll miss them,” Ransom says dryly, taking your coat. You turn around with a smile as Ransom introduces the two of you.

“Well, a muse indeed,” Harlan says with a warm smile.

“It’s an honor to meet you Mr. Thrombey,” you say as he accepts the hand you offer him, kissing the top of your knuckles in a gentleman like fashion. “I’m a big fan or your work.”

Ransom cocks his head at you like a confused puppy, “Really?”

“Please,” he remarks. “Call me Harlan. Which is your favorite?”

“It’s a toss-up between The Needle Game and Drop in the Bucket,” you reply.

“You never told me that,” Ransom comments in confusion at your statement.

“And you never asked,” the response comes out a bit harsher than you intended.

He looks taken back with your statement, “Well – you want a drink? I need a drink.” Without waiting for your answer, he heads off into the library.

There’s a mischievous glint in the older man’s eyes as you glance back at him, “What?”

“It’s starting to make sense now,” Harlan comments, unable to contain his grin. “With a muse like you, I can understand why he’s spending all his time in New York.”

You fold your arms over your chest, “I don’t know what he told you, but we’re not –”

“I can tell,” the older man smirks.

***

“Five thousand huh?” Harlan questions as the two of you stand upstairs in his library, overlooking the banister to the rest of the library downstairs. “You took the money up front, right?”

“Of course, but I would have done it for the three,” you remark before turning the high ball glass of bourbon in your hand up. “Why did he want me to come?”

“Distraction I suppose. I mean – I love my daughter,” Harlan says with a sigh. “But she and Richard can be –” He trails off unsure of how to say it.

“Difficult,” you use the word Ransom used and the older man smiles.

“Exactly,” Harlan looks over the rail to see his grandson pouring himself another drink at the serving cart below.

‘You always have to be so difficult.’ Steve’s words echo through your mind and you say quietly, “So am I.”

“No my dear, you challenge him,” Harlan corrects you. “There’s a difference.”

The sound of the front door opening makes Ransom twist the top off the bottle and proceed to double up on the drink he just poured.

“Dad,” a woman’s voice calls out from the foyer.

“Showtime,” Harlan says as he lets you take another sip from your glass before he takes it from you. “Go, save him.”

You give a smile and a nod before you walk off.

“See, I told you,” Richard states to his wife as they walk into the library, seeing Ransom standing alone. “If it’s not a girl, what have you been up to in New York? Partying.”

“Hi Dad – Mom,” the man remarks before turning his glass up.

“What’s the excuse this time?” his father questions.

“Richard,” Linda begins to stop him.

“Did she have work? Does she even have a real job?” he says dismissively. “Or is she one of those – influencers?”

“I work for S.H.I.E.L.D.,” you state boldly from the bottom of the spiral staircase behind the pair. Listening to the man in front of you bullying his son irritates you something fierce. “You might have heard of them.”

The look of surprise on Linda and Richard’s faces is priceless as they turn to see you stride casually across to where Ransom stands. You try not to smirk as you take his glass from him, sipping it slowly as you step into his side. Your other hand slips around his waist instinctively as he carefully rests his hand on your lower back before he introduces you to his parents.

“Dad said you weren’t staying for dinner,” Linda comments after the introductions and Ransom glances up at his grandfather, who is still standing at the railing above.

“No,” he comments, unaware Harlan had given him the out. “We aren’t.”

“I have a work thing,” you almost sneer in Richard’s direction – tension between you obvious.

“Did you ever work with Iron Man?” the older man questions, obviously uncertain you’re telling the truth and you nod your head. “You know, I met Tony Stark once.” There’s a hint a maliciousness in his voice. “Not to speak ill of the dead, but he was prick.”

Without missing a beat, you smile sweetly, “Well, Tony always said it takes one to know one.”

Ransom nearly chokes on the bourbon he’s just took a sip of as Harlan erupts into laughter from upstairs.

Later you watch through the window as Ransom sits on the patio, Richard is standing in front of him, obviously reprimanding him for something. You wait until his father storms back into the house before you slip out the door, feeling Linda’s eyes following you.

“There is not enough alcohol in this house,” you say quietly as you move towards him. “Is she still watching me?”

Ransom’s eyes drift over to the window then back to you, “Like a hawk.”

You move to sit in his lap, causing him to shift uncomfortably as you lean against him, “She’s asked me so many questions.” You say quietly as you stare into the backyard watching the two dogs playing. “I’m surprised she didn’t ask for a blood sample.”  

“If Granddad’s nurse was here, she would have.”

“When you said difficult,” you lean back to look down at him, brushing your fingers through his hair. “I had no idea.”

“Rethinking your price?” Ransom remarks dryly.

“No,” you say, the corners of mouth hinting at a smile. “I really don’t like bullies.” Leaning back into him, you press your forehead against the base of his neck as you say quietly. “I would have done it for free.”

He laughs a little as his hand moves to rest on your knee, the heat radiating through your tights and onto your skin, causes your breath to catch slightly as he says, “I would have paid seven.”

There’s a moment of silence before you move to stand up. The comfortableness of the situation becoming a little too much for you, “We should probably get going.” He nods in agreement, following your lead.

“I’m telling you,” Richards voice echoes from the library. “There’s something going on here. A S.H.I.E.L.D. agent – really? I’m not buying it. That asshole is up to something.”

The audacity of the man baffles you, and Ransom tries to catch up as you storm into the library and over to where his father stands. You grab the collar of your sweater jerking it down, exposing your shoulder and the bright pink scar there.

“Six months ago, I was shot in Paris by an arms dealer,” you say angrily. “Because that’s my job.” Harlan stands up from his chair, watching the scene unfold. You turn to Ransom grabbing his sleeve and tugging it.

“I don’t –” he looks down at you, but can see the rage in your eyes and he sighs before he pulls his arm from the sleeve, allowing you to move the sweater over his shoulder as you push the sleeve of his undershirt up, exposing the fresh scar there.

“Ransom what is that?” Linda questions her son, concern on her face.

“That’s from a bullet,” you answer for him. “You know what kind of person takes a bullet for someone else?” You ask rhetorically. “Someone with a good heart and how he got that, living in such a toxic environment, is beyond me.” Harlan can’t hide the smile on his face as Ransom eases his arm back into his sweater sleeve. “So – in my book – you’re the asshole.” Richard stands there, shell shocked as you glance past them to Harlan. “Sorry Harlan, it was great meeting you.”

“Pleasure was mine dear,” he nods as you turn to storm out of the library.

Ransom gives a cocky smile as he waves before he turns to follow after you, watching you grab your coat before you open the door and head outside. He has to jog to catch up with you, his hand reaching for the passenger door before you can.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he comments quietly, watching your nostrils flare slightly as you try to steady your breathing.

“Someone needed to,” you reply as he opens the door.

Once he climbs into the driver seat, he sits there for a moment before saying, “Thank you.”

“Oh, I’ll also be taking the master tonight,” you remark with a smirk.

He laughs as he starts the car, “Of course you will.”

***

Once inside Ransom’s house you head straight for the kitchen, looking through the refrigerator first before nosily pulling open the drawer for the freezer.

“Well, well, well,” you comment to yourself, grabbing the pint of ice cream.

“If you’re hungry, we could order in,” Ransom says walking in behind. “Or go out.”

“This will work,” you say, producing the container. “I didn’t take you for a cookies and cream kind of guy.”

“You never asked,” he grins, watching you search for a spoon. “Left drawer.” You open the one he’s talking about and pull out two spoons. “Thank you again – for today.”

“You’re welcome,” you remove the top from the pint and hand Ransom a spoon.

“You really stepped up,” he remarks. “Played your part quiet well.”

Scooping up some ice cream casually, you say, “You realize undercover work is part of my job.” He watches you curiously as you slip the spoon from your mouth.

“What’s the most fun?” he looks intrigued. “Role that you’ve had to play?”

Thinking for a moment as he slips a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth you finally answer, “Housewife. For over a week.”

“Really? With who?”

“That’s classified,” you say with a smirk causing him to laugh. Looking down at the pint of ice cream a thought strikes you. “Got any vodka?” He moves to a cabinet producing the bottle you asked for and watches as you go to the refrigerator. “Glasses too, please.” Ransom grabs those as well and leans against the counter as you begin measuring out the liquor and scooping ice cream into each glass, followed by milk.

Ransom walks past you to open another drawer, pulling out two straws as you finish stirring up the drinks. He takes the glass you offer him, placing a straw in it and yours before taking a sip. His eyebrows shoot up as he tries the milkshake. “This is – good.”

“Of course it is,” you respond.

Three shakes later and you’re giggling at Ransom telling you the story of last Thanksgiving with his family. “It was nothing compared to today though.” He looks over at you, the fireplace in front illuminating both your faces. “You were great – thank you.”

“That’s the third time you’ve said that,” you remark jokingly. “Is ‘thank you’ a new phrase for you?”

Watching him look at the fire almost reminiscently as you place your glass on the small table between you. His voice is barely audible when he responds, “What you did for me – that was new.”

“I can see that,” you reply quietly, knowing that growing up with his family couldn’t have been easy. “I should call it a night.”

“Straight up the stairs, end of the hall,” Ransom says nodding towards the staircase. You stand up slowly, feeling slightly lightheaded from the vodka as you head for the stairs. “Hey.” He calls and you stop, turning to look at him. “That mission – the classified one.” Glancing up at you with that sincerity that you’ve caught a glimpse of before, he continues. “It was Rogers, wasn’t it?”

You give him a small grin, “Night Ransom.”

He waits until you’re upstairs and the bedroom door closes before he pulls his phone from his pocket, opening the application with several saved recordings. The first one is listed:

Agent S. Wilson, Phone Interview

He slides the bar forward a few minutes with his finger before he presses play and Sam’s voice comes through the phone speaker.

‘She and Steve, that relationship was – complicated. They loved each other though, in their own way.’

‘How would you describe her?’ Ransom’s voice comes across the device.

‘She’s one of a kind. I’ve seen her defy direct orders to save a friend. She’s loyal – bossy – but she’ll do anything for those she cares about,’ Sam’s words sound thoughtful. ‘I’m proud to call her a friend.’

Ransom had gotten a glimpse today of what Wilson had been talking about. You were relentless in your defense of him, something no one has ever done. He was glad he had invited you along. He had originally wanted to show his parents he could date someone smart – driven – but you had proven so much more than that in the short time you’d spent with them. He had seen that fire in your eyes, which led to the nagging question in the back of his mind – why?

Was that confidence – passion – in your eyes when you spoke of him meant for him, or for the man he reminds you of?

#ransom drysdale #ransom x reader #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale x reader #knives out #knives out fanfic #marvel #mcu #avengers fanfiction #avengers fanfic #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fan fiction #steve rogers fanfic #ransom drysdale fan fiction

[thetypedwriter]

Chain of Iron Book Review

Chain of Iron Book Review by Cassandra Clare 

You know, I was actually really irritated when this book came out because once again, the Dark Artifices seems to be shafted for this new series (that nobody asked for) to shine, but fortunately I wasn’t as bothered by it as I predicted I would be. 

In case you are in the small minority of people who haven’t heard of Cassandra Clare and her millions of Shadowhunter books, Chain of Iron is the next nephilim installment in Clare’s never-ending series. 

Chain of Iron is the sequel to Chain of Gold, and the series as a whole is a sequel to the Infernal Devices series, but a prequel to the original Mortal Instruments as well as the Dark Artifices which is the sequel series to the Mortal Instruments. 

I would be surprised if you weren’t baffled right now. 

I’ve said this before for other Shadowhunter installments, but these books are not user friendly for new folk. You genuinely need to have read the other series to get full enjoyment and understanding of these books.

 If you do read them without having read the others, I'm sure it would still be enjoyable to a certain extent, but a large case of ensemble character and relationships will be lost to you and a big portion of these novels are the relationships within them. 

To delve right in, Chain of Iron has our main cast of friendly teenagers nicknamed the Merry Thieves (which I just abhor, sorry, not sorry) return from Chain of Gold after fighting one of the princes of Hell, Belial, and now with Cordelia and James being married as to avoid a scandal of Cordelia’s reputation and James’ criminal record. 

In addition, there is a new serial killer on the loose murdering shadowhunters at dawn and stealing their runes. Most of the book is dealt with trying to catch the culprit, the Consul and Inquisitor along with the whole of adult shadowhunter authority being inconsequential and inept as usual (how these people became parents are beyond me as they never have any sort of clue what their children get up to) along with side plots including raising Jesse Blackthorn from the dead and romance galore in typical Clare fashion that makes you want to rip your hair out because if everyone just communicated and was honest there would be no issues. 

The beginning of the novel is molasses slow.

I’ve come to expect this with Clare’s books. Actually, I think I’ve figured out the formula entirely. Here is is:

Mostly nothing of consequence happens for nearly 400 pages except for character building and small instances of plot 

Intersperse some random demon attacks for flavor 

Everyone is beautiful, everyone is in love, and love is the most groundbreaking, earth shattering thing in existence 

Get into the last 200ish pages and shit hits the fan with action, misunderstandings, and confessions 

Nobody is honest with anybody and lying is commonplace

End the behemoth on a cliffhanger so that the audience is kept in suspenseful anxiety until the next installment 

You can’t see me, but I am bowing right now. 

Genuinely, that is how 90% of Clare’s novels pan out. Obviously, as she has a very successful and long-running book series, the formula works. 

That being said, there are some vices and virtues to it. 

For this book, the beginning was slow. Almost nothing of significance happens for most of it and it's a dredge to get through. 

However, it’s mundane to get through in the same way that reading fanfiction of your favorite characters is mundane. What Clare does for 400 pieces of paper is build up her characters and their relationships. Normally, you would do this interspersed with plot, but not in this case. 

It’s not very conventional, but it kinda works?

I definitely struggled connecting with the characters from this series more than any other of Clare’s novels. The Mortal Instruments, as the original, were beloved if a little cheesy. Then came the Infernal Devices with witty Will, soulful Jem, and intelligent Tessa. Then we got the Dark Artifices, which to me, is still the best as Julian, Emma, Mark, Christina and the others are the most flawed in any of the series and I enjoy that. 

I enjoy that they’re not perfect, I enjoy that they’re devious and conniving. It makes them more interesting and more worthwhile to read about. 

Instead, the main characters in Chain of Iron and the subsequent series are mainly James, Cordelia, Matthew, and sometimes Lucie. I would argue that no one else matters in the book and are just added in for some sugar, spice, and everything nice. 

Some of you might be outraged at this statement. What about Grace? You might say. Or Jesse? Or Thomas, Christopher, Alistair, Ariadne or Anna?

They don’t matter. 

They matter in a very small, plot convenience, fluff ensues kind of way, but not really in any way of substance. Or, at the very least, that’s how I feel. 

Anna is just there to be cool, Thomas is a gay gentle giant with literally no personality, Christopher is so basic and is essentially the Trader Joe’s version of Henry who was better and more interesting as the first, Alistair is a redeemed bully, and Ariadne is an orphan who loves Anna. 

The end. 

Once again, sometimes Clare bites off more than she can chew and I wonder if she just throws these characters in there just because it makes her happy. 

As for our main protagonists, they’re mediocre. Matthew is definitely the most interesting in the bunch and I was jubilant to see him get more screen time this time around. The increasing realization of his alcohol abuse, his feelings for Cordelia, his nonplussed attitude. 

All of it is intriguing. I still don’t like him as much as other protagonists from other installments, but he is by far the winner of this triad. 

James is too perfect, too beautiful, and a worse version of his father. If I wanted more Will I would have turned to fanfiction of the Infernal Devices instead of imagining up his son. The only interesting thing about James is his demon connection which is not even something he does, but rather something that is done to him. 

Cordelia is banal. Once again, she’s too perfect, too brave, and too kind. Literally nothing is wrong with her. She’s level headed, intelligent, forgiving, and fierce. 

Basically, she’s boring to the brim. 

I do think Clare did a better job this time around to include more of Cordelia’s Persian heritage, but it still mainly fell to the backburner of her lackluster and blank personality. In fact, I think James made more of an effort for Persian food and culture than Cordelia did, but I digress. 

Also, a small note, but still with weight, why does Cordelia have eight names??

It bugs the living daylights out of me that in a single sentence she will be called Cordelia, Layla and Daisy. 

Clare. Give the girl one name. My god. 

Actually, as a side note to this side note, Clare is talented at many things, but nicknames are not one of them. EVERY SINGLE CHARACTER IN THIS NOVEL has a nickname and all of them are horrible. I have never in my entire life known a Matthew that has gone by the nickname Math. 

What. In. The. World. 

Anyways, the only other character of note is Lucie. I like and dislike Lucie. Lucie is also boring and her novelist passion is aggravating to me. However, I did like her turn with necromancy and her increasing desperation to save Jesse that drives her to work with Grace and lie to her friends and family was a much-needed note of interest. 

Overall, this book did make me like the characters more than I did in Chain of Gold, but it took a lot of blood, sweat, and tears to get there, more than what I think should have been afforded. If you need to kill 400 trees in order to make me like your main characters, that’s a problem. 

Whatever the method, I do care about them more than I did previously so I suppose mission accomplished. I do think some of the strongest relationships in the book are the romances, but then also the parabatai bond between Matthew and James. 

Matthew and James have one of the best relationships in the book and I’m equally frustrated and intrigued how things will play out with Matthew now having confessed his feelings for Cordelia. 

I do feel like female parabatai get shafted in a lot of Clare’s novels compared to the boys. The coed pairs often do well like Clary and Simon or Emma and Julian. Otherwise, the boys far outrank the girls in terms of bond and friendship. 

Even in this novel, the “friendship” between Lucie and Cordelia is laughable. They barely talk to each other or spend time together and when they do is shallow.  Whereas Matthew and James seem much more involved in each other’s lives. 

That being said, if you noticed I didn’t speak much of the plot it’s because for me plot comes very much second in a Shadowhudenter novel. It’s there of course, and it’s entertaining, but I do enjoy the characters and their relationships more than anything else which makes Chain of Iron  better than its predecessor but still worse in my view than any other of Clare’s novels. 

Plot just doesn’t compare to the soul crushing love and friendships shown between the pages, for better or for worse. 

Recommendation: The Dark Artifices > Infernal Devices > The Mortal Instruments ...and  The Last Hours fall somewhere after the Mortal Instruments and the trillions of side novels that Clare has co-written with other authors and all seem to be about Magnus Bane.

Score: 7/10 

#chain of gold #chain of iron #cassandra clare #shadowhunters #the mortal instruments #the infernal devices #the dark artifices #ya fiction #YA Books #YA literature #book blog #book #book review #YA Book Review #popular fiction #Popular Books #Book Recommendations #book rec #book reccs #LGBTQ fiction #7/10 #ya books #ya literature #book recommendations

[primitivejunketer]

I Want To Tell You- A George Harrison FanFiction

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4

Chapter 5- Amour Mon Cher Amour

Fic Summary: George and Rosemarie have been next door neighbors their entire lives. As they grow older, feelings grow stronger. Will they fall in love or fall apart? angst/fluff/slow burn

Chapter Summary: We introduce Paul, Rosemarie goes away on a trip and the unexpected happens upon her return...

Word Count: 2380

Rating: T

Warnings: explicit language/minor affection

Note from the author: Things are happening now!!! Get fired up and buckle in y’all, we’re going for a ride. Also I know the gif below is from Stranger Things, that’s just how cute and awkward I imagine baby Rose and George to be.

Listen while you read! xx

---

October 22, 1954

George sat on the school bus staring out the window at the gloomy Speke weather. He lightly tapped his toes to the beat of Tennessee by Carl Perkins. 

“Hi, is this seat taken?” George looked over at the voice towering above him. A tall, pale boy with round rosy cheeks was addressing him. 

George shook his head silently. 

“I’m Paul,” the boy put out his hand for George to shake. 

“George.” He replied. 

“You’re new, aren’t you?” Paul asked.

“Yeh, I came from Dovedale. My brother came here so my parents made me.” 

 “Oh! What's his name? I might know ‘em.” Paul was jaunty. He had a baby face and was rather tall. He had a very warm presence but George was still new to the school and used to bullies from Dovedale, so he kept his guard up around Paul. 

“Harold Harrison,” George sighed, annoyed. 

“Oh, nah doesn’t sound familiar. But is that your last name? Harrison? That’s a good name. Mine’s McCartney.” 

Paul did most of the talking the rest of the way to his stop. George replied with unenthusiastic “mhm”s. 

The bus finally made it to Paul’s stop after what seemed like years. He shook George’s hand again before retreating from the bus. 

“See you tomorrow, lad.” Paul waved. 

George waved back, wide eyed. 

-

Rose was waiting for George on his porch when he returned home. She was leaned back on the steps, reading a book. 

“Good afternoon, Georgie! How was school?” She asked him in an annoying singsong voice. 

“School wasn’t the bad part, the ride home was.” He groaned, sitting down next to her. 

“What happened? Was someone being mean?” Rose became very concerned. 

“Not at all, this bloke sat next to me and was chatting my ear off the whole way to his stop.” 

“Awww George be nice he was trying to be friendly!” Rose swat his arm playfully. 

“Maybe I don’t want any friends,” he scoffed. 

Rose rolled her eyes and got up, “Come to my house, mum is making stew.” She put out her hand for him to help himself up. Unexpectedly, though, he didn’t let go.

The two held hands for the few block walk to Rose’s house. Before opening the door she awkwardly shook his hand away from hers and opened the door. 

-

December 17, 1954

“She is taking FOREVER!” George complained, tugging his coat tighter around himself. 

“Girls always take forever,” Paul laughed, roughing up George’s hair. 

In the past months, George and Paul had become best friends in school. They rode the bus together every day after the first day they met. They even clung to each other during school. Paul was a year older and had access to the music room at the school and introduced George to a few of his new favorite artists. 

Paul watched George, waiting for this mystery girl’s arrival outside of Trinity Catholic Girls school. 

As per usual, Rosemarie’s parents followed the Harrison’s footsteps and decided Rose should go to private school for secondary school. She fought hard against the decision but eventually lost against her mother. 

Rose HATED school. She hated her stupid black and white school shoes, and her stupid long forest green plaid skirt, and her stupid white button up shirt. 

Suddenly, Paul watched as George’s face lit up. He began waving frantically. Paul’s eyes followed the direction George was looking and he was met for the first time by Rosemarie. 

George gently wrapped his arm around her and turned to Paul. 

“Paul, this is Rose, Rose this is Paul.” George laughed sort of awkwardly. 

“Rosemarie Winthrop, charmed.” Rose smiled, putting her hand out for Paul to shake. 

“Enchanté, Paul McCartney,” Paul, flashed a wink at George, bringing Rose’s hand up to his face to gently place a kiss upon. 

“Alright! That’s enough friendliness for today!” George stood between the two of them, flashing a look at Paul that could kill. 

The three began to walk back towards George’s house for dinner. Mrs. Harrison was having a dinner, celebrating that all of her children would be under one roof for the night. Harold and Louise we’re visiting. 

“I’ve heard so much about you, Miss Rosemarie,” Paul mentioned as they walked together. George stayed in the middle so Paul and Rose had to speak over him. He walked with his head down, kicking chunks of snow as they went. 

“I wish I could say the same about you, Paul. George rarely talks about anything but guitars anymore,” Rose laughed, nudging George slightly. 

“I wonder who’s fault that is,” George returned a stifled laugh and motioned at Paul. 

“I can’t help it, my dad’s a musician!” He had a warm and hearty laugh. 

“Really?!” Rose was enthused, “what does he play?” 

Paul went on to explain his father’s jazz background. At this point, the two were getting along all too well. 

When the three arrived at George’s house, Rose went to greet Mrs. Harrison in the kitchen. Paul mindlessly followed, looking around pictures on the walls. 

George cleared his throat from the top of the stairs. 

“A word, Paul.” He spat. 

Paul smiled, already knowing what he was in trouble for. 

George pulled Paul into his room. “FLIRTING!” He whisper-shouted. 

Paul had to hold back his laugh, “I’m sorry! She liked it,” he could barely speak between laughs. 

“Of course she liked it! You were FLIRTING!” 

Paul was amused at how upset George got, he had never seen him this way before. 

“Look, I know you like her a lot. Relax, mate. She likes you too,” Paul placed his hand on George’s shoulder, reassuringly. 

“What are you two talking about?” The door opened and Rose entered, making George jump. 

“Nothing!” He answered all too quickly, making Paul laugh. 

“That’s not suspicious…” Rose said, raising an eyebrow, “anyway, your mum sent me up here to tell you supper’s ready.” 

-

January 18, 1955

Christmas came and went faster than anyone would have desired. George was heartbroken that he’d have to spend a month away from Rose. 

The week after Christmas, Rosemarie and her mother took what her mother referred to as a “girls trip” to France. Mrs. Winthrop was born in France and had lots of family there. She was particularly keen on staying with her younger sister, Dominique. 

The two sisters hadn’t seen one another since before Rosemarie was born. 

Paul had to deal with George’s complaints for an entire week since he insisted distracting himself with Paul’s presence. 

The two sat in a small cafe near Paul’s house, drinking hot chocolates. 

“You’ve got to stop moping, mate. It’s not like she’s gone forever.” Paul consoled George. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been away from her this long in my life.” George groaned and looked out the window at the snowy scene before him. 

“What is it about her that gets you this way?” Paul was genuinely intrigued. He had never really even seen George look at another girl the way he looks at Rose. 

“I dunno. I’ve known her basically since we were born and just- I don’t know. She’s so-,” he stopped and his face scrunched up. He didn’t know how to answer Paul’s question. 

“She’s just my person. She’s unlike anyone else.” That was the only way George could figure to put it into words. 

Paul nodded knowingly. He wasn’t much older than George, but wise enough to know exactly what he meant. 

-

February 2, 1955

“Bonjour! How was your trip?” George was at Rosemarie’s house not even an hour after she arrived home from the train station. 

“I had an amazing time! My aunt Domonique is spectacular! She taught me how to speak some French while I was there!” The two sat in Rose’s bedroom with the record player on. She was playing all of the new music she got in France, showing George how lovely French music was. 

She particularly liked Yves Montand and wanted to show George his record. She turned up the record player when Amour Mon Cher Amour came on and started to dance by herself. She slowly stepped to the guitar and swung around the room following the smooth lyrics. 

George was frozen. Sitting on the edge of her bed he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Something about her was different since she had returned. Of course she was wearing the popular French fashion, much more stylized than any British girl he had seen in the last month. It even appeared that she had rouge on her lips. George had never seen her wear makeup before. 

“Dance with me George” Rose smiled, putting out her hand for him to grab. 

He stood, somewhat shakily, grabbing her hand and dancing around the small room awkwardly.

“What does it mean?” He asked with a smile, showing off his pointed canine teeth. 

“Amour mon cher amour? Love, my dear, love,” Rose smiled and looked right into George’s brown eyes, causing his cheeks to redden. 

He stared at her face while they danced, he noticed everything about her. The way her chocolate colored eyes sparkled in her dimly lit room, the faint tint of red in her dark hair, perfectly tucked into curls that rested just right on her shoulders, and then did the unspeakable. 

He kissed her. 

And she did the unspeakable. 

She kissed him back. 

It only lasted a couple seconds but it felt like an eternity. 

Neither one of them knew what they were doing, there was a combination of George’s lips on Rose’s chin and teeth bumping into one another. But it didn’t matter. 

They pulled away both blushing, slightly out of breath. They couldn’t say anything, the two just sat there smiling goofily and staring into each other’s eyes. 

Then, footsteps were heard coming up the stairs, and before they could react, Mr. Winthrop was standing in the doorway. 

His initial reaction to seeing his daughter just barely an inch away from George was sweet, he knew it was bound to happen eventually and was happy for them. 

After a few seconds of everyone sitting frozen, George popped up, “Well, I best get going, told mum I was only going to be away for a few minutes.” 

“I’ll walk you out,” Rose quickly stepped behind him, walking past her father who had long since forgot what he went to go tell them in the first place. 

Rose followed George down the stairs and to the front porch where he had parked his bicycle. 

“So-“ Rose started. 

“We don’t have to talk about it.” George quickly interrupted. Rose nodded understandingly. 

“See you tomorrow?” She asked, sheepishly biting her lip. 

“Absolutely.” George hopped on his bike and leaned in once more, kissing her cheek. 

George sped down the street on his bike howling at the air.

“Whoooooohooooo!” He giggled as his bike tires skid along the frosty pavement.

-

Rose watched George until he turned a corner, out of sight. She stared dreamily at nothing at all, in a daze. 

She slowly turned back into her house, gently shutting the door behind her and leaning against it. She let out an audible sigh.

“Did someone just get her first kiss?” Mrs. Winthrop was cheekily peeking from behind the kitchen door.

“Mum!” Rose shouted, embarrassed. 

“He wasn’t being too bold, right? Kept his hands to himself?” Mr. Winthrop chimed in, peeking behind his wife. 

“Dad! It’s bad enough you interrupted!” Rose’s face was full red at this point. 

“Interrupted? It is my business who is kissing my eleven year old daughter in my house.” He retorted. 

Rose groaned, “Dad, it’s just George!” She tried to shake off the subject but her own face wouldn’t even let her. 

She couldn’t help the little smile that peeked up and the rosiness of her cheeks. 

She ran up the stairs to her bedroom and locked the door behind her. 

Before kicking off her shoes and lying down in her bed, she put the Yves Montand record on again. 

She grabbed her pillow and held it close to her chest, closing her eyes. All she could see was George.

She had every single part of him memorized. The way his shaggy brown hair laid on his head, the lines he’d get on his cheeks when he smiled big. She let out a sigh, accompanied by a little smile. 

There was a knock on the door. Rose opened it to welcome Mrs. Winthrop. 

“Hi darling, I made you a cuppa.” She held out her gorgeous silver tray with two China tea cups on it. 

Rose invited her mother to sit on her bed beside her. 

“So,” Mrs. Winthrop started, Rose already knew where this was going to go, “how was it?” 

“Mum!” Rose exclaimed, “I don’t think you’re supposed to ask me that.” 

Mrs. Winthrop laughed, “well, I’ll be the first to tell you, my first kiss was not at all ideal.” 

“How do you mean?” Rose asked, sipping her tea. 

“I was about your age, and I went to a public school, boys and girls mixed, you know.” She began, “and I wasn’t friendly with the boys, I had my sister and cousins, no desire to play with anyone else. And one day, this boy came up to me, oh what was his name?” She paused for a moment, but Rose continued to listen intently. “I think it was Jacques O’Hare, yes he was French Irish, anyway, he walked up to me, grabbed me by the arms and kissed me right on the mouth. I was DISGUSTED.” 

Rose burst into laughter. “Oh, mum I’m so sorry!” She tried to stifle her laughs but couldn’t help it. 

“Don’t worry about me, dear, my point is, how are you?” She asked her daughter. 

“Well,” Rose started, and then drifted off into thought. She had never felt this way before and didn’t know how to describe it. “I wouldn’t have wanted it to be with anyone else.” She smiled, satisfied with this answer. 

Mrs. Winthrop hugged Rose tightly, “so is he your boyfriend now?” She began to pry, with an eyebrow raised. 

“Mum! No, he’s not my boyfriend. I don’t know what he is. I don’t want anything ruined,” Rose was solemn. She felt something unexplainable for George but didn’t want it to ruin what they already had. 

-

#the beatles #the beatles fanfiction #the beatles fanfic #George Harrison #george harrison fanfic #George Harrison fan fiction #John Lennon #paul mccartney #paul mccartney fanfic #Ringo Starr #stu sutcliffe #pete best

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: The Rebellion of Adrien Agreste, ch. 13

Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Luka Couffaine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Kagami Tsurugi, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Luka Couffaine, Lila Rossi/karma, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/aneurism, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Kagami Tsurugi, Plagg & Tikki

Characters: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Lila Rossi, Jagged Stone, Plagg, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine, Penny Rolling, Anarka Couffaine, Rose Lavillant, Juleka Couffaine, Kagami Tsurugi, Alya Césaire, Chloé Bourgeois, Wayhem, Nadja Chamack, Nathalie Sancoeur, Sabine Cheng, Tom Dupain, Tikki, Fang, Principal Damocles, Caline Bustier, Ms. Mendeleiev, original minor character, Alec Cataldi, Lila Rossi’s Mother, Sabrina Raincomprix, Roger Raincomprix, Mylène Haprèle, Le Gorille | Adrien Agreste’s Bodyguard, Nino Lahiffe, Nooroo

Tags: Lila Rossi salt, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Teenage Rebellion, Swearing, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Crack Treated Seriously, Lila Rossi’s Lies Are Exposed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Luka Couffaine Needs a Hug, Paparazzi, Parentification, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Needs a Hug, Gabriel Agreste Needs an Aneurism, Uncle Jagged Stone, we’re all queer here, the spirit of punk is sometimes just being allowed to be yourself, Kagami Finds Her Groove, punk rock fashion, Savage Kagami, Marinette protection squad, Good Parent Sabine Cheng, Good Parent Tom Dupain, Protective Kagami Tsurugi, Protective Luka Couffaine, Bisexual Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Pansexual Luka Couffaine, Sharing a Bed, Pet Names, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Instagram, Bullying, Social Media, Anxiety, Makeover, Hugs, will cure your acne, Face Punching, Bad Ass Juleka Couffaine, Rumors, Protective Juleka Couffaine, Protective Adrien Agreste, Lawyers, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Holding Hands, accountability, mental health, Jagged Stone’s well-paid pet shark, How to Make the Evening News, Sexy eyeliner for days, one fish two fish Lila is a screwed fish, How to have fun and piss Gabriel off, Fuckery, sweet litigious karma, Alya sugar, lawyer shark doo doo doo doo doo doo, Schadenfreude, Bad Ass Alya Césaire, Gaslighting, abuse denormalization, Jagged likes his lawyers like he likes his pets: toothy af, Blood in the Water, Everything you didn’t know you wanted and some things you did, Gabriel Agreste is shark bait, Denial, Consequences, Principal Damocles salt, caline bustier salt, the impotence of Gabriel Agreste, snarky Nooroo, lies and the lying liars who tell them, Lila’s brain is a narcissistic hellscape, Lila’s mind is built like an Escher piece, Alec Cataldi salt, Adrien Sugar, wholesome salt, Fu Salt, Kwami Shenanigans, Nooroo is a little shit

Summary:  Sweet Litigious Karma

AO3 link

Chapters 1-2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

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They had to wait for Jagged to coax Fang out of the limo before they could proceed with phase two of the plan. Juleka murmured something to Rose, who dashed into the school and returned with Luka’s guitar.

Juleka took it and drifted to the open limo door, which had Fang hanging halfway out of it.

“I know without your guitar you feel like you’re missing a limb, so I figure you shouldn’t be without it today.” She handed it to him. “Especially after this drama.”

Luka peered out the limo and flashed a little smile. “Thanks, sis. I wanted to work on a song for Adrien, anyway. He should know what his heartsong sounds like.”

Adrien blushed at that, ducking his head.

This wasn’t part of the script, but they’d all decided ad-libbing was a good idea if anything came to mind. He’d told Luka to pretend all the reporters were naked, and apparently that had calmed him enough.

He moved back to the limo door, keeping out of Fang’s path, and took Luka’s hand. “I look forward to hearing it, ma luciole.”

An enraged high-pitched sort of bellow sounded from behind him, and Adrien turned to see Lila stomping toward him, her face a mottled red. She froze when Fang snapped in her direction, clearly bothered by her movements.

“Yeah, Fang here doesn’t like when brats like yourself harass his friends. Adrien and Luka here? They’re friends.” Jagged crossed his arms. “You’re just the liar who claimed to save my nonexistent kitten from a runway.”

Lila fumed, then turned on Marinette, who stood near her parents. “You! You did this!”

Tom protectively moved in front of his daughter as the Italian took a step in her direction, straightening his spine to increase his height.

M. Damocles cleared his throat. “Mlle. Rossi, you are on very thin ice. Stop harassing your classmates.”

“I’ll see you later,” Adrien murmured, letting go of Luka’s hand to move closer to Marinette, just in case she needed defending.

He noticed Juleka doing the same thing—and he wasn’t the only one, if Lila’s narrowing eyes were any indication.

Lila’s posture changed, becoming demure and defensive, as though she was protecting herself from harm. “I’m sorry, M. Damocles. I-I just can’t believe Marinette would go this far to bully me!”

The girl fled past the principal into the school, crying fake tears. M. Damocles blinked, looking confused. Adrien hoped he wasn’t buying into that sham.

“Fang’s better at crocodile tears than she is,” Jagged snorted, shutting the limo door now that Fang was completely out. “What a prima donna.”

The press didn’t hear him and ignored the limo as it pulled away with Luka, instead taking the opportunity to swarm Marinette, calling out questions.

“What led to Jagged Stone employing a 14-year-old girl as his designer?”

“Do you care to comment on your rivalry with Mlle. Rossi?”

“Is it true the text messages to the press were fake and you’re the real bully?”

Adrien frowned at that one, and pulled out his phone, turning it on so he could display the messages. Keeping it off wasn’t necessary since his father likely could see his location on TV.

The questions continued to ring out until…

“You seem awfully close with Mlle. Tsurugi. Are you dating?” That one was from Alec Cataldi.

Marinette blushed brightly at that question, looking more overwhelmed than he had ever seen her.

Jagged shoved his way through the crowd. “Oi! What are you doing prying into the romantic life of an underage teenager? Bloody paparazzi!”

Cataldi immediately backed off, and Penny grabbed Jagged’s arm to keep him from advancing.

That gave Adrien the opportunity to finish opening his text messages, pulling up the ones from Lila. He shoved his phone toward the reporters, scrolling up and down so they could see.

“Not faked,” Adrien announced, his voice icy. “And not ‘leaked,’ either. I made sure they went public intentionally. I do not tolerate threats against my friends. We are finished with questions, as we have other business to attend to.”

When several reporters started to ask more questions anyway, he channeled his father, as much as he hated to do that. “I will remind you that under French law taking pictures and footage of minors without permission is quite illegal, and we’ve tolerated that up to this point.”

Dead silence fell immediately, and the reporters backed off, the implied threat effective.

The space allowed them to move forward into the school, trailed by Fang. The bell rang as they entered, but the courtyard was filled with students and teachers, mostly gaping at them.

To be fair, Mme. Mendeleiev was trying to round up her students, but none of them were paying her any mind.

M. Damocles cleared his throat. “Apparently the entire school is tardy,” he announced loudly.

There was a rush as the students and teachers cleared the courtyard, with the exception of Mme. Bustier’s class, who kept watching since their teacher was beside the principal.

He turned to her. “Caline, go handle your class. I will send M. Agreste and Mlle. Dupain-Cheng along once this… matter is dealt with.”

Adrien wasn’t fond M. Damocles’ dismissive tone, but he figured that’d be destroyed by the lawyer soon enough.

In any case, as Mme. Bustier led the way up the stairs, he took quiet joy in the way his classmates gave Lila a wide berth, like she was contagious. Well, aside from Juleka, who was staying closer than was strictly necessary and smiling menacingly.

They quickly found themselves squeezed a bit tightly into the principal’s office—six adults, two teens, and a crocodile were a bit much for the small room.

Jagged took one chair, and Tom took the other, leaving the rest to stand. The lawyer placed her briefcase on the desk to open it, taking out a stack of paperwork and handing it to the principal.

“I’ll keep this brief, M. Damocles. M. Dupain and Mme. Cheng are concerned with the lack of investigation into the allegations against their daughter, and the lack of investigation into Mlle. Rossi’s claims—from illnesses and disabilities to excuses for absences. It implies not only a degree of favoritism, but additionally calls into question whether this school is following basic procedure.”

“That—”

“I am not finished, sir. Furthermore, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng has faced a multitude of instances of harcèlement moral, bullying, including destruction of her property by the mayor’s daughter—who, I might add, faced no consequences in another implied instance of favoritism. She has now been targeted by a self-admitted serial liar, whose frankly ludicrous tales managed to fool the authorities at this school, injuring her mental health. That file outlines everything she has faced in the past year.”

Adrien could see Marinette’s face redden out of the corner of his eye, and knew the lawyer wasn’t exaggerating—he’d seen and heard enough last night to know that now. He put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently to let her know he had her back.

The lawyer continued. “While current French Labor Code would see this as a violation, the law has woefully not seen fit to include schools, the workplace of students, in this definition. M. Stone is strongly disgusted by this oversight, and would be happy to see whether a suit on his employee’s behalf regarding these incidents could result in precedence in case law.”

M. Damocles’ eyes had widened, his face pale. Adrien almost felt sorry for him, but it was the inaction of far too many adults that had allowed Lila’s reign of terror to go on this long.

“However, we would prefer to resolve this outside of the courts, if at all possible. Since, unfortunately, orders of protection in France are not granted outside of situations of domestic violence. As neither M. Agreste nor Mlle. Dupain-Cheng are in a romantic relationship with Mlle. Rossi, this means they are unable to pursue one under current French law. So I will be frank: my clients seek, at minimum, an investigation into this matter and the immediate removal of Mlle. Rossi from Mme. Bustier’s classroom, so their education is not further interrupted by her behavior.”

The principal stuttered a few times. “Ah, b-but I have to consider the impact on Mlle. Rossi’s education—”

The lawyer smoothly interrupted. “Her education has already been interrupted by alleged travel outside of the country—which presumably you verified with her parents—whereas M. Agreste and Mlle. Dupain-Cheng have been in consistent attendance.”

“I-I will need to contact her mother, of course—”

“Yes, I suggest you do that. We will, of course, wait outside until you are finished speaking with Mme. Rossi. Might I suggest, if you are unable to reach her by the number provided to the school, you contact the Embassy? My clients have already been quite patient.”

With that, the lawyer closed her suitcase, and stepped over Fang to reach the door. The rest of them followed her out.

Marinette looked a bit light-headed. He led her to a bench and sat with her, Sabine and Tom joining them on either side.

After the door was closed, Adrien murmured. “I thought he was going to wet himself.”

The lawyer flashed a shark-like smile. “That is what I’m paid for.”

That got a nervous giggle from Marinette, who snuggled into Sabine’s side. She looked exhausted.

Adrien took a moment to text Kagami to let her know phase two was in progress. He also told her about the reporter’s question—he had no doubt there’d be rumors flying as a result.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfiction #miraculous salt #ml salt #lila rossi #lila 'the liar' rossi #lila salt #juleka couffaine #rose lavillant #luka couffaine #adrien agreste #lukadrien #marinette dupain cheng #uncle jagged #jagged stone #damocles salt #alec cataldi #alec cataldi salt #my fanfiction #kagami tsurugi #ml fang #mendeleiev #The Rebellion of Adrien Agreste

[thesunnyshow]

Name: Penelope

Writing Blog URL(s): @tigertaehyunq 

Star Sign: Virgo

MBTI: INFJ-T

Favorite color: Purple

Favorite food: Cheese burgers

Favorite ice cream flavor: Blueberry

Favorite animal: Cats ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

Go-to karaoke song: Promise - Jimin (BTS)

Coffee or tea? What are you ordering? Coffee, definitely!

Dream job (whether you have a job or not)? Psychiatrist / Fashion designer

If you could have one superpower, what would you choose? Time travelling, if possible. It would come in handy.

If you could visit a historical era, which would you choose? The Victorian era, maybe.

If you could restart your life, knowing what you do now, would you? No. It’s a lot more fun going into it blindly.

Would you rather fight 100 chicken-sized horses or one horse-sized chicken? One horse-sized chicken would not be that bad. 

If you were a trope in a teen high school movie, what would you have been? The nerd.

Do you believe in aliens/supernatural creatures? Yes. 

What are some small things that make your day better? Little compliments from friends and family, a bright song that pops into my mind as soon as I wake up.

What fandom(s) do you write for? BTS

When did you post your first piece? February 2nd, 2020

Do you write fluff/angst/crack/general/smut, combo, etc? Why? I write fluff, angst and crack for now. They’re the three genres I feel most comfortable with so far. And they’re entertaining to write for.

Do you write OCs, X Readers, Ships...etc? X Readers for now, but I’m slowly moving to write for ships too.

Why did you decide to write for Tumblr? It appeared to be quite fun and I wanted to connect with more people who had similar interests as me. 

What inspires you to write? Songs inspire me most, and talking with fellow writers helps too!

What genres/AUs do you enjoy writing the most? Angst and crack, probably. I love writing for fake dating AUs the most.

What do you hope your readers take away from your work? That everything comes around and wraps neatly at the end. And it may not be visible at first, but I always appreciate when readers point out my foreshadowing specifically.

What do you do when you hit a rough spot creatively? I take a break from writing and let it come on its own. It usually works, and in the rare cases it doesn’t, a push from my inspirations gets me going.

What is your favorite work and why? Your most successful? My favourite work, and the only work that I feel like lives up to my expectations, is my Jungkook x reader fic titled ‘Someone Like You’. I like how I wrote it and got attached to the characters. My most successful work is likely the series, ‘Shoot Me’.

Who is your favorite person to write about? I love writing for all the members of BTS so much and it takes quite a lot of effort to not make every single story OT7 x reader, but I mostly end up settling for Jungkook, though I’ve been writing a lot for Hoseok lately behind the scenes.

Do you think there’s a difference between writing fanfiction vs. completely original prose? Well, there are quite a few differences. Fanfiction doesn’t always involve making your own love interests since you’d know the person you're writing for pretty well (like an idol), unlike in original prose. Though it doesn’t make fanfiction any less better. Both are great in their own ways, with little differences here and there.

What do you think makes a good story? The way of writing and how the voices of the characters are delivered. I find it enticing when that’s done in a good way and it always draws a reader in, so I try my best to follow that too.

What is your writing process like? Most of the time, it starts with a rough outline in bullet points about the main events, characters and personalities, etc, before I plan the details in my head because I’m too lazy to write them all down, and write away at a blank document until the fanfic finishes.

Would you ever repurpose a fic into a completely original story? I’ve thought about it. And I would, though I’d add a lot more depth and details. 

What tropes do you love, and what tropes can’t you stand? I love fake dating, yandere, siren, soulmates, childhood best friends to lovers and modern royalty AUs. I don’t think there’s any specific trope I hate. But I’ve read stories with a bully and victim turning to lovers and that one might be the only AU that irks me off.

How much would you say audience feedback/engagement means to you? Depends. If I’ve written the work specifically for someone, then that person’s feedback is more than enough for me. But I usually do like to have some feedback and it makes me very happy.

Do you think fanfic writers get unfairly judged? Sometimes. And by that, I mean, most of the time. I think the prejudice and bias is slowly dying down, but I wouldn’t be surprised if a large majority still judged fanfic authors unfairly!

Do you think art can be a medium for change? Definitely. In fact, art is one of the best mediums when it comes to wanting to make a change, doesn’t matter how big or small. 

Do you ever feel there are times when you’re writing for others, rather than yourself? At first, this was common. But recently, I’ve learnt to flow with the story and write it for myself, so I can see how it goes and where the characters end up. It’s a lot more fun this way.

Do you ever feel like people have misunderstood you or your writing at times? No. Not that I can think of, anyway.

Do your offline friends/loved ones know you write for Tumblr? Nope.

What is one thing you wish you could tell your followers? That I appreciate the time they took to read my work(s). It’s really encouraging and sweet.

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers who might be too scared to put themselves out there? It’s okay to step out of your comfort zone. Success comes from trial and error and it’s alright to feel down when that happens. Writing is a journey, and it’s best to let go of all doubts as you progress through it.

Are there any times when you regret joining Tumblr? Not yet. Dare I say it, it’s one of the best decisions I’ve made thus far! 

Do you have any mutuals who have been particularly formative/supportive in your Tumblr journey? My biggest supporters are @bangtan-dreamland and @rubinora. I find myself lucky to be able to rant to them since I don’t have anyone else to turn to.

BONUS ROUND: K-POP CONFIDENTIAL

#@tigertaehyunq #thesunnyshow #featuredauthor #episode 33 #bts

[bisexualsforprompto]

Worth Chapter 3

(*DISCLAIMER: THIS CHAPTER USES VULGAR LANAGUE AS LILA IS A COMPLETE BITCH IN IT, I HATE HER AND SHE’S STUPID AND UGLY, WOW THIS DISCLAIMER TURNED INTO A RANT ABOUT HOW MUCH I HATE LILA)

Also yay! We finally are given the baddie of the plot, though it’s up to you to figure out who it is. Since I don’t want you to know who it is I’ll be referring to he/she as “you” (that’s a little trick I learned from Jennifer Lynn Barnes, my favorite author).

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Dark hair, blue eyes, and French. That was your MO. The skin tone didn’t matter, which is what had the GCPD so mixed up and frazzled. You laughed to yourself as you poured a glass of Chardonnay. There’d been a lull in your girls, mostly the French part. Last time was so...unsatisfactory. She was only a quarter French and she didn’t scream like the others. You disposed of her quickly, and even though she wasn’t what you had hoped you still took a lock of her hair and added it to your collection. You were missing the adrenaline, but you told yourself to be patient, a French class was coming soon. There’d definitely be someone there, maybe even international news. The justice league would probably thank you personally when they found out who the person behind the mask was who rid the world of its scum. You smiled to yourself, ‘I’d be famous worldwide and another French bitch would be out of the world for good.’

Kay wasn’t an early riser, neither was Marinette. That could only end disastrously, luckily, a certain Wayne family decided to call their friend’s daughter for a wake up call. Purely so she wouldn’t be late to their tour, although they did enjoy talking to her. Steph and Kay were very close friends, the closest out of the rest of the family, though Dick did enjoy Kay’s positive personality. Steph was extremely aggravated when she learned Kay was coming to Gotham because she was with Barbara and Cass for a girl’s week. Kay promised to make it up to her though.

So when Kay’s phone went off blasting “Candy Store” she immediately knew that the Wayne family was calling to wake her up. She smiled to herself as she turned off the alarm, it was nice to have people care.

“Oof what time is it?” Kay asked. “We woke you about an hour before you have to leave for the tour.” Said Dick. “Dope, thanks Dick! See ya soon!”

To be honest, Kay was afraid that she would sleep and nobody would wake her up, causing her and Marinette to miss the tour. She dug in her suitcase until she found her favorite shirt, it was the same color as her aqua blue eyes and it read, “Theatre is my sport” (side note I also own this shirt). She laughed at her friend who was still fast asleep, “Mari.” She said walking over to her friend and poking her.

Nothing.

“Mariiiii.” Kay said louder. “Marinette, Marinette, Marinette, MARINETTE!!!”

Still nothing.

“God I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do this especially so early in the morning…” Kay cleared her throat and leaned down to Marinette’s ear, channeling her inner Christine Daaé she sang the highest note she could hit.

Marinette shot up, rubbing her pounding head. “The hell? Why do I have a ringing in my ears?” Kay shuffled away with a guilty smile, “I mean- somebody may have sang an E6 in your ear, but in all fairness you weren’t waking up!” Marinette groaned and shook her head. “Thanks for waking me up, even though the means weren’t…what I was expecting. I thought I was going to miss the Wayne Enterprises tour for sure.” Kay giggled, “Honestly me too. Sounds like some shit Lila would try to pull. I wouldn’t worry too much though, Dick would never let us miss the tour.” Kay winked as she walked into the hotel room’s bathroom.

“Dick? Wait isn’t that the American word for-“

“Yeah but it’s also a name. Short for Richard. Bruce Wayne, the Wayne Enterprises guy is his father. Well Bruce adopted him technically. The Waynes are the family my mom and I know from Gotham, Damian, the guy I’m totally setting you up with, is the youngest family member.” Kay exclaimed, the bathroom walls were thin but it was still slightly muffled. “Right that random guy you were shipping me with.” Marinette laughed. “You got it!

“I’m excited for you to meet them, I bet you’ll love the whole family and vice versa. Damian should be coming with Dick on the tour, Tim, one of the other brothers, is working there, so we probably won’t see him. The girls are away and Jason is probably- well Jason’s probably still sleeping.” Kay laughed as she walked out of the bathroom in her favorite shirt, baggy jeans, and dark brown hair in long curls.

“What about Bruce Wayne? Oh my god is he coming?! If he is I have to choose a whole new outfit! AHHH NOTHING I HAVE WOULD WORK!!” Marinette panicked as she tossed her clothes across the floor. “Relax Mari! Bruce won’t care if you’re dressed up or anything. We might not even see him!” Marinette slumped, “I still need to dress up a little though.” Kay giggled, “Ok sure. Whatever you say.”

Marinette ended up going with a red sundress and she wore Kaaliki’s glasses she was given from Master Fu, in case Ladybug needed to be in Paris. They transformed into black plastic glasses with a thin rim.

“Cool shades Mari, since when do you wear glasses though?” Asked Kay popping a piece of waffle into her mouth. “Oh these just accent the piece.” Kay laughed, “You’re such a fashion geek.” Marinette threw one of her blouses on the floor at her, “You’re such a theatre geek.” Kay fell onto the floor in dramatic agony, “You’ve wounded me to my very core, how will I ever survive? Unless they get the fright of their lives.” Marinette rolled her eyes as Kay got lost in her own world singing songs from Beetlejuice and eating her waffle. “Come on nerd, we don’t want to be late.” Marinette said as she extended an arm, Kay promptly took it and stood up once more. “I mean, if we’re late that’s one less minute we have to spend with Liar Rossi…”

“Just come on!” Marinette laughed. The girls walked down the hallway until they arrived to the main lobby where the French class was chatting. Alya walked over to them leaving Lila who was fuming that Alya would leave her for Marinette. “Hey girl, can’t believe you woke up early for once. Hey Kay.”

‘No way in Hell is Alya choosing the weird new girl over me!’ Lila screamed internally

Marinette chuckled, “Yep. Without Kay I definitely wouldn’t have though.”

Lila huffed.

“Thanks for keeping my girl straight Kay!” Alya said giving Kay a playful nudge on the shoulder.

‘Oh that is it!!!’ Lila watzled over to the trio of girls. “Hi girls! Oh Kay! Almost didn’t see you! I forgot to mention earlier, people in Gotham don’t really appreciate fags, so maybe turn down your, you know, lesbian urges and stuff.”

Shock. Was all Marinette felt, then she saw red. She vaguely comprehended Kay holding her back, “Oh yeah Lila? I forgot to mention earlier that people in Gotham don’t really appreciate lying bitches, so maybe tone down your psychopathic tendencies.”

“Kay totally uncalled for!” Alya barked. “Are you kidding Alya?! Didn’t you hear what Lila said?!” Marinette screamed. Lila started to blubber, “I’m- so- s-sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your f-feelings!” She wailed overtop the commotion, adding to the cacophony and causing all eyes to be on them, ‘perfect’. “See, you made her cry! Girl, I can’t believe you’d do this! I always gave you the benefit of the doubt but Lila was right, you are a bully!” Marinette huffed and Kay suppressed screams while still fuming. Alya stormed off, and Lila swooped into the conversation once more. “Kay, do you have a crush on me, or something? Is that why you’re acting this way?!” Kay scoffed, “Please, I have standards. You were right about one thing though, I am gay, but being gay isn’t an insult so I’d take your bullshit elsewhere, because the only insult you doled out throughout this conversation was that I could ever have a crush on someone like you!” Kay pointed at Lila to emphasize her point and before the class could turn on her she took Marinette’s hand and they walked out the double doors of the hotel and waited outside for the bus to arrive.

“Are you okay?” Asked Marinette, placing a hand on Kay’s shoulder. “Yeah fine, I just wish people were more tolerant, and you know that wasn’t exactly my ideal way of coming out to you or the class, but sometimes my mouth just starts moving and I can’t get it to stop.” Kay sniffed, “What’s wrong with me Marinette?” Marinette pulled in her closest, now one of her only friends, in for a hug, “Nothing Kay. Lila is the problem, remember one time when you said she was a- oh what was it? Magic? No, mythic?”

“Mythic bitch. Though honestly Heather Chandler is a step up from that-that” and it all came flooding out. Kay started to cry, something she hadn’t let herself do in a long time. Marinette knew full well why too, any Parisian had to hide their feelings. “I hate her so much Marinette and him too.” Marinette knew which him she was referring to, the one who made them slaves to their own emotions, Hawkmoth. “I know Kay. I do too. Maybe Ladybug will get it right one day.” Marinette felt a drop in her stomach. ‘If I can’t protect the ones I love from Lila how can I defeat Hawkmoth? Maybe...maybe Chat was right.’ Kay looked up, tears still welling in her eyes she wiped them away, Ladybug gave her hope. She was able to muster strength and a smile, Ladybug gave Paris hope, “Come on Marinette, she’s doing the best she can. Ladybug has saved Paris more times than I can count, she’s an amazing hero. One day Hawkmoth will be out of our lives for good, and it’ll be her doing.” Marinette sighed and felt warmth from her friend’s words, at least someone believed in her.

“Miss Kay,” said a proper voice startling the two girls out of their shared moment. “Alfred!!!” Kay grinned, “How are you! It’s been so long! What are you doing here?!” The man, Alfred let out a chuckle, “You’re rambling again Miss Kay, but to answer your questions: I am doing well, and while it has been long Master Bruce has sent me here to pick you and any of your friends up to take you to the tour.”

Kay’s eyes brightened, “Dope!!! This is Marinette,” she said motioning towards the bluenette who smiled and waved kindly. “I think we’re ready to go.” Alfred cocked his head a little, “There is no one else you wish to wait for?” Marinette and Kay shuffled their feet awkwardly, ‘don’t you have any other friends?’ Is what he meant. “Nah, it’s all good Alfred.”

Alfred gave a smirk, although he felt disappointed that Kay only had one friend, she was so sweet, he expected her to be the life of the party. “Oh- by the way,” Alfred started as Kay reached for the limo door handle, “We picked up a guest on the way. I think you’ll be happy to see her.” Kay have an awkward smile and a confused look to Alfred, she opened the door only to see her girlfriend.

“CHLOÉ!!!!!” Squealed Kay, throwing her into a tight embrace. “Yes, yes I missed you too Lené.” She returned the hug pecking her girlfriend on the cheek and seeing somebody she didn’t think she’d ever see again. “Dupain-Cheng!”

“Queenie?!” Marinette asked with a look of recognition, she almost didn’t recognize her friend, after all it had been a year and in that amount of time Chloé put her hair in two braids and had dyed them brown.

“You two know each other?” Asked a confused Kay, as she released her girlfriend to look at Marinette. “Yep. Dupain-Cheng was the only tolerable one in my old class.” Chloé gave her girlfriend a soft smile. Kay thrust Marinette into a hug, “You were the Girl Who Didn’t Believe Lila’s Bullshit! I should’ve known! Thank you for being there for my girlfriend!” Marinette blushed, “It’s not a problem. Chloé was there for me more times than I can count.”

Chloé rolled her eyes while giving a gentle smile, “That class is utterly ridiculous, you weren’t. Of course I was going to be there for you.” Kay wrapped both of them in a tight hug, Chloé still in her seatbelt, “Ahhh my two favorite girls in one place!” Chloé let out a chuckle and gave her girlfriend a pat on the shoulder. “Mmk Lené.”

“Wait Chlo, why are you calling her Lené?” Marinette asked. Kay reddened before burying her hands in her face. “Don’t you dare tell her!” Alfred let out a chuckle before driving off to Wayne Enterprises. “Miss Kay’s real name is Kaylené Khan. She’s embarrassed of it for some reason, a fact that Miss Chloé likes to tease her about.” Kay facepalmed, “Alfred!!!”

“You shouldn’t hide your name Lené. It’s beautiful.” Chloé said twisting her girlfriend’s dark brown hair. “I agree, though Kay is a pretty nickname.” Marinette said giving her friend a playful shove. “Yeah whatever. Let’s go meet your new boyfriend Damian!” Kay teased, “He’s going to be at Wayne Enterprises, isn’t he Alfred?” Alfred kept his eyes on the road while he responded, “Yes Miss Kay, but I have to say I don’t know what you’re talking about in regards to Miss Marinette and Master Damian.”

“Yeah Lené what am I missing?” Chloé demanded before looking out the side window of the limo.

“I’ve made the match of the century Chlo! Damian and Marientte would be the perfect couple!” Chloé scoffed, “No way you can get Ice Prince a girlfriend, though if it was anyone it would be Mari.” Kay smiled, feeling triumphant, “See Marinette it’s meant to be.” Marinette chuckled, “I haven’t even met the guy Kay!”

Kay started to swoon in her seat, “Oh my gosh, I’m going to witness love at first sight!”

Tag list (lemme know if you’d like to be added or I missed you, ps 54 tags?! Omg. Fricking Tumblr said I can’t do more than 50, so those of you on my list will be in the comments ASAP):

@legendaryneckjudgestudent

@interobanginyourmom

@beaversuenightly

@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry

@mochinek0

@shamefullove

@emjrabbitwolf

@actual-disaster-human

@tog84

@thequestionablyhuman

@thyladyanput

@vixen-uchiha

@novicevoice

@2sunchild2

@zebrabaker

@chrismarium

@mycupisbroken

@winter-gardenflower

@dast218

@bluerosette23

@chocolatecatstheron

@anjuschiffer

@fertileleaf

@drarryismylife101

@zerotosiki

@littleredrobinhoodlum

@krispydefendorpolice

@octoberscorn

@18-fandoms-unite-08

@clumsy-owl-4178

@queenmj10

@shreky-boi

@magic-miraculous

@gingerdaile

@mooshoon

@ladylb

@eve-is-the-dawn

@bee-wrecker

@fiendsangelical

@captainmac6

@7-sage-7

@weird-pale-blonde-person

@st0rmy-w1th1n

@fatimaabbasrizvi

@mindfulmagics

@fics-by-maria

@miraculous-simmer7

@kuroko26

@severelyenchantedwonderland

@shewhoridesonrainbows

@shizukiryuu

@melicmusicmagic

[wiseabsol]

WA Reviews “Dominion” by Aurelia le, Chapter 12: The Seal

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6383825/12/Dominion

Summary: For the Fire Nation royal siblings, love has always warred with hate. But neither the outward accomplishment of peace nor Azula’s defeat have brought the respite Zuko expected. Will his sister’s plans answer this, or only destroy them both?

Content Warnings: This story contains discussions and depictions of child abuse, emotional abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse, and incest. This story also explores the idea that Zuko’s redemption arc (and his unlearning of abuse) is not as complete as the show suggested, and that Azula is not a sociopath (with the story having a lot of sympathy for her). If that doesn’t sound like your cup of tea, I would strongly recommend steering clear of this story and my reviews of it.  

Note: Because these were originally posted as chapter reviews/commentaries, I will often be talking to the author in them (though sometimes I will also snarkily address the characters). While I’ve also tried not to spoil later events in the story in these reviews, I would strongly recommend reading through chapter 28 before reading these, just to be safe.

Now on to chapter 12!

CHAPTER 12: THE SEAL

Alright, on to chapter twelve, “The Seal,” my favorite chapter of “Dominion!” This is going to be a much longer review than the others, so do be warned in advance.

 In regards to the author’s note, I do not envy the amount of research and posing you need to do to handle fight scenes in this story, but I admire how much work you put into it. I think the fight scenes really shine! The other points of discussion here are also interesting, namely regarding Iroh, who we’ll be seeing more interiority from as time goes on.

 Into the chapter itself! Oh lord, cricket wasps—I hate the insects in the ATLA world, I really do. So in this flashback, twelve-year-old Ty Lee has snuck over to Azula’s quarters and is watching her through the window, while hanging upside-down from a tree. God, I miss being young and able to climb trees like that with ease. But anyway, Azula is wearing one of her mom’s old robes during the hottest part of the summer, because symbolism and because Azula is sick as a dog. Ty Lee doesn’t know that yet, though.

 “Not at lessons, or meditating, or any of the other stuff Li and Lo said every time Ty Lee had tried to call on her in the past two weeks.”—This indicates that Li and Lo are aware of what is going on with Azula, and haven’t done anything to intervene on her behalf. Not that that would be easy, since Ozai is the Fire Lord, BUT—and this is key—in this continuity, they were Azulon’s concubines. Given that there hasn’t been mention of them having Azulon’s bastards in the main story (unlike with Iroh in “The Road”), this implies that Li and Lo had access to birth control. So they could have given some to Azula in the form of tea, or—since they haven’t revealed that they know what is going on to her—to Ozai to give to Azula. They would still be accomplices to Ozai’s abuse, but they could have done some damage control. They didn’t, though. Nor did Ozai. Maybe they all gambled on Azula being too young to conceive, which, A.) Is really gross, and B.) Is ignorant of them, since teenagers who grow up with good diets tend to have their first periods between ages 11-13. They should have taken more precautions. Or, you know, NOT forced Azula to have sex.

 I’m getting ahead of myself. Ty Lee is under the impression that Azula is trying to ghost her, and thinks something about Mai that I’m puzzled about: “Something about, they never said anything before—” I feel like this is about Zuko, somehow. Did he not say anything to Mai before he went into exile? I think it’s implied that they already had something going on before he left, given how quickly they got together after season two, but there might have also been a comic that went over how Azula got them together, and used their relationship to secure Zuko’s return home?

 “But those old ladies were Azula’s servants, right? So if they were lying to her, it was like Azula was lying to her….”—I think Ty Lee shows a touch of classism here, because she doesn’t consider the possibility that Lo and Li might be lying to her for their own reasons, or that they might be trying to drive a wedge between the girls. Heck, they might even think that Ty Lee is annoying and are just messing with her. She assumes that Lo and Li and Azula are all aligned, because she was taught that that’s what’s proper from servants—that they will align themselves with values of their employers and carry out their wishes. This might even be true in a healthy household, where everyone values each other and are pitching in to make their household a good one. But the Royal Family’s household isn’t healthy, and Lo and Li have more agency than Ty Lee gives them credit for.

 Also, it boggles my mind that Lo and Li, the concubines, are Azula’s servants. What in the world did the court think that they were teaching her? I can only assume it was things like cosmetics, fashion, and feminine arts like tea ceremonies, but goodness, weren’t there actual instructors for those, both in the capitol and at the Academy? Possibly Azula chased those teachers away, since Mai says in one chapter that Azula bullied their instructors at the Academy. But still, I can’t imagine no one raised an eyebrow at Lo and Li being assigned to Azula.

 “The other girls at the academy said Azula was a liar, even Mai did, but Ty Lee knew she didn’t lie about that. When Ty Lee was being annoying or childish or empty-headed, Azula told her so, she didn’t just invent excuses not to be around her. Mai said it was because Azula didn’t care what she thought. That was the only reason she was honest with Ty Lee. But Azula didn’t care what anyone thought except her dad, and she still lied to all of them….”

 We know that Azula lies and that she’s quite good at it, BUT I suspect that what was happening at the Academy was more a case of Azula being bluntly honest, and the people she was talking to not wanting to believe what she was saying. Also, with Ty Lee’s ability to read auras, she—unlike Toph—might be able to catch Azula in a lie, even if she can’t discern what the truth is based on her readings. So I think that Ty Lee has a better grasp on Azula than Mai does, while Mai is less likely to excuse Azula’s toxic actions out of sympathy for her.

 “She shouldn’t say goodbye to her friend while she was thinking all these unkind thoughts that probably—definitely—weren’t even true.”—She’s such a sweetheart. This is the chapter that swayed me to the Azula and Ty Lee ship.

 “Azula didn’t even know she was out here, Ty Lee realized. But she was practically impossible to sneak up on—“—Because she’s sick, Ty Lee. But also, it’s depressing that Azula is constantly on her guard.

 “Azula must not know Li and Lo turned her away, or she wouldn’t ask that.”—Told you, Ty Lee. They have their own agendas.

 Ty Lee discusses how Azula’s aura has appeared to her in the past, including this sad line: “Even forest green when she used to watch her mom with Zuko.” Azula has always been jealous of how close Ursa and Zuko were. I suspect that she wanted that closeness with both of them, especially her mom, but none of them knew how to connect with each other.

 “Her shadowed eyes were fever-bright, and only stood out more starkly for being lined with kohl.”—Azula, if there’s a day to not bother with make-up, it’s today. I know your little perfectionist heart won’t allow you to skip your routine, but if you’re spending your day vomiting and sweating, throw those cosmetics into the back of the drawer and don’t bother.

 “Ty Lee couldn’t remember the last time she saw Azula with her hair down….”—So no sleepovers lately, eh?

 It turns out that Ty Lee’s family are having her followed because they’ve made a match for her, and Ty Lee isn’t into it. Azula is similarly not into it and is confused, because it doesn’t seem to make much sense—Ty Lee is very young and has older sisters that still need to be married off, so this seems out of the blue.

 “Ty Lee hesitated at that. If she told her the whole story, Azula might try to stop her. She always agreed with her dad.”—There we are, it’s not her family’s idea, it’s Ozai’s. It’s sad that Ty Lee thinks that Azula will automatically side with Ozai on the issue, but it’s also a commonly held belief about Azula, and something that Ozai has cultivated. I don’t think that anyone has tested what might make Azula break from Ozai—the closest she’s gotten to doing so was when she lied to her father, namely for Zuko after Aang’s “death.”

 Ty Lee tries to deflect Azula’s questions by saying that her family wants to get her hitched before she runs off and joins the circus. And because Azula does, in fact, care about Ty Lee, she doesn’t laugh at the idea, but is instead hurt that Ty Lee is planning to leave—specifically, that’s she’s planning to leave HER. Azula is terrified of being left alone, now that Zuko, Ursa, Mai, and even Iroh have all left her behind without a backwards glance.

 “Ty Lee just glimpsed what looked unbelievably like panic on her wan face”—Ty Lee has never seen Azula panicked before. Or heard her curse before, which is what she does after vomiting into a vase. Ty Lee holds her hair back like a true friend. Somewhere, there’s a college AU of these two having a drunken night out and Ty Lee making sure that Azula doesn’t get vomit in her hair.

 “‘You’d think it’d stop after—’ She stopped then, like she only just remembered something.”—Azula nearly slips here, and I do have to wonder what she almost said. After the potion took effect and the cramping and bleeding started? I’m assuming that the expelled fetus would be too small to see at four months, but I don’t know enough about fetal development to know if that’s correct, and I don’t want to look it up.

 Ty Lee tries to ask her what she’s sick with, which Azula deflects. When thinking about what Azula could have said that she was sick with, I did wonder if Azula would have gone through a poison training regime at some point—been exposed to increasing doses of X and Y poisons to build up an immunity to them? Of course, this would have to be done under the supervision of a trusted doctor, and who knows if Ozai would trust a doctor enough for that.

 “A pulpy mash of what might have been crushed leave, shredded stems, and petals lavender and yellow”—I believe Azula has a double-dose of tansy and pennyroyal here. She also heats up her own tea, which I believe Iroh does too, suggesting that she has equally fine control over her firebending. Zuko, I think, is implied to overheat the water, making for bitter tea.

 “‘Just a miscalculation,’ Azula said almost to herself, and Ty Lee heard how she paused over the world, like it wasn’t her own.”—This plays into a couple of things. Azula has a deep fear of making mistakes, in large part due to being raised by an abusive parent who wouldn’t accept anything less than perfection, but also by the trauma of how own his mistakes have physically and psychologically affected her. It also adds another trigger to why Azula blew up at Mai at the Boiling Rock. Not only was she betrayed and abandoned by Mai, but Mai unintentionally reminded her of the pain from a past miscalculation.

 “dumped a heaping spoonful of some off-white powder into the cup and stirred”—I wonder what this was?

 When Ty Lee points out that Azula’s medicine doesn’t seem to be working, Azula says, “‘It just needs time,’” and I want to sit her down and discuss the sunken cost fallacy, and how you definitely don’t want to apply it to medication. Azula mentions that she wonders if she’ll ever get the taste out of her mouth, and I’m pretty sure she’d get nauseous if she tasted it again, given how aversions work.

 “‘I’ve been taking it every few hours, by Fa—by our physician’s orders.’”—This is an ugly little detail. It’s possible that Azula’s “reaction to the herb” later in the chapter isn’t due to it having an unexpected side effect, but because she had way, way too much of it because she followed Ozai’s orders, rather than her doctor’s instructions. Which isn’t her fault, by the way—it’s Ozai’s.

 “Ty Lee wondered if Azula could heat her hand to make it a hot compress, like the warm washcloth her Nana would drape on her forehead when she was sick. That always felt so good.”—I doubt that Azula has ever had someone give her a hot compress, so she wouldn’t think to do this.

 “‘Listen, you don’t have to run away.’ She drew a deep breath, as if bracing herself for an unpleasant undertaking. ‘I’ll talk to my father. He might get your parents to back off.’”—It’s so telling that Azula isn’t looking forward to asking her father for help.

 Ty Lee admits that Ozai suggested the match, and follows it up with others way that Ozai has tried to elevate her family that they’ve declined. Azula puts two and two together and realizes that Ozai—who presumably already got rid of Mai by putting Mai’s family in charge of Omashu—is trying to do the same to Ty Lee. He’s trying to isolate Azula from her loved ones, both because it lowers to risk of their secret coming to light, but is also a classic abuse tactic: make sure the victim has no one but the abuser in their life, and thus no one else they can turn to for help and support.

 “‘They’re a cadet branch of your family, from back before Fire Lord Sozin.’”—I’m surprised that Ozai hasn’t found a way to get rid of them. Also, Aurelia, you need to read the Kyoshi novels, because I think you would dig the Fire Nation politics in book two.

 “She didn’t start talking again when she saw the look on Azula’s face. It was like someone walled off the last window into her prison cell…. Ty Lee couldn’t guess where that came from, when the princess was the most powerful person she knew. But it fit. Somehow, it fit.”—This hurts so baaaaaaad. But yeah, Ty Lee, you were literally the only bright spot in Azula’s life, and probably the only one who loved her for who she was. Azula is looking at a future where she’s alone with her abuser.

 And what does Azula do in response? She puts Ty Lee first. “‘Then you have to go,’” she says, because if Ty Lee doesn’t run now, Ozai is going to find some other, crueler way to get Ty Lee out of the picture, and Azula knows it. When Ty Lee hesitates, Azula lashes out, trying to drive her away. But what she says is rooted in her own insecurities about being abandoned. In her moments of doubt, I think Azula genuinely thought that Ty Lee was looking for an excuse to leave her, too. Even though it’s apparent that Ty Lee cares about her.

 “‘Do you think I don’t know we were only introduced because your parents were trying to betroth you to Zuko?’”—That is audacious of a minor noble family, not going to lie.

 “her fingers clenching like they always did at the mention of her banished brother.”—Proof that Azula is upset about Zuko being banished, even if she can’t admit it to herself.

 “This was the first Ty Lee heard of it, but she guessed it might be true. It was beside the point anyway. ‘That’s my parents, Azula. Not me,’ she insisted, approaching the white-faced princess. ‘You’re my friend, and I care about you. I’m here because I want to be here.’”—Ty Lee is so precious and Azula should date her. Alas, queer relationships are illegal in the Fire Nation, at least during the time this story is set in.

 Azula continues to break down and is close to outright crying, which makes Ty Lee’s heart sink. We get this bit of info: “‘Don’t you remember how you felt when your grandad tried to arrange a marriage for you? I mean, I know you were younger, but…you wouldn’t want that for me, would you?’” So Azula was not pleased about having to marry her cousin, Lu Ten. I don’t think that info has quite been revealed yet—I think Ursa thinks about it later—but that’s what’s being referred to here.

 “She climbed the shallow steps to sit beside Azula, as close as she dared.”—Even back then, Azula didn’t like being touched. That or Ty Lee is afraid that Azula will hurt her, but I hate that reading.

 “‘What I want doesn’t matter,’ the princess spoke with an awful finality. ‘It never did.’”—Holy HELL does this break my heart. I’ve also been there, so I want to wrap Azula up in a hug, even though I know she’d hate that. Also, does Azula know what she wants? What SHE really wants, and not what the people around her wants from and for her?

 “‘It matters to me,’ Ty Lee said gently, and reached out to lay a hand on her arm in reassurance.”—Ty Lee is trying to kill me with this sweetness. She’s such a good person!

 Azula continues to rant poisonously at Ty Lee, and what Ty Lee doesn’t realize is that there’s a strong undercurrent of self-hatred in what Azula is saying: “but it wasn’t worth putting up with me anymore [ . . . ] was it?” She fully expects people to leave her, and is now actively trying to push Ty Lee away, because then at least she can tell herself that she was the one in control of how their relationship ended, rather than feeling helpless.

 And why is that trauma there? Well, because of Ursa. “‘You act like you’re doing me some kind of favor, saying goodbye when my mother didn’t.’” Ursa didn’t say goodbye to Azula. That would have left deep scars on her, even if the rest of her family and friends were supportive of her.

 Azula then says something that would be unforgiveable for most people: “‘You act like you’re my friend, when the only one stupid enough to believe that is you.’” Azula knows she went too far, because a few seconds later, “the princess had taken one step closer to where [Ty Lee] still sat at the end of the bed, something like regret written on her bloodless face.” I suspect that Azula would have apologized here, but then she collapses onto her knees.

 “Ty Lee was on her feet and down the shallow steps in an instant, her own hurt all but forgotten.”—Ty Lee is such a good friend. She asks Azula what’s wrong, but Azula can’t even think up a convincing lie.

 It’s mentioned that one of Azula’s hands go into her robe to clutch at her stomach, and when she draws her fingers away, there is blood on them. She’s bleeding badly at this point, but the heavy clothing is covering it up. At this point, a servant comes in and tells them that Ozai has summoned Azula, despite the fact that she’s very sick. Ty Lee is appalled, but Azula insists on going. Azula orders Ty Lee away, but of course Ty Lee isn’t about to go now.

 “She didn’t even get to hug Azula goodbye! And what she said about—about not being her friend…. Azula didn’t mean that, right? If Ty Lee just gave her time, she’d take it back, she’d apologize like she always did before.”—I think it’s undeniable that Azula behaves toxically towards her friends at points. Hopefully this will be something that she grows out of, but that is probably going take a lot of time and effort.

 Ty Lee, hearing Azula struggling to get ready, goes to check on her. “[Azula’s] shoulders slumped hopelessly, and she bit her lip so hard she drew blood.”—This really makes you feel for her. She feels like she has to look perfect in front of her own father while she’s severely ill. It makes me want to punch Ozai in the groin. Ty Lee helps her with her hair, which shows that she’s also very brave, as well as a true friend. Ty Lee is so underrated as a character, I swear.

 “The blood was gone from her fingers, and Ty Lee started to wonder if she’d only imagined it.”—Ty Lee is going to have the worst time when she puts two and two together that she was there when Azula was having her abortion. Also when she learns what Ozai was doing to Azula. It’s going to break my heart when it happens.

 Azula then gives Ty Lee her royal seal, which the chapter is named for. Azula gives it to Ty Lee so that Ty Lee will be able to get whatever she needs on the road. This will also let Azula keep track of where she is, but Ty Lee doesn’t think of that in the moment. Ty Lee tries to glomp Azula, but Azula braces herself as if expecting to be hit. “‘We’re not little kids anymore,’” Azula says, and I’m like, “Girl, you’re thirteen, yes you are.”

 Azula’s rejection of the hug hurts Ty Lee, but Ty Lee nonetheless stays in Azula’s room to wait for a real goodbye.

 “And sometimes when Azula’s dad sent for her, she came back upset. She might want to talk about it…. She wouldn’t want to talk about it, Ty Lee admitted [. . .] But she might want someone to talk at her, about stupid meaningless stuff to distract her. Azula acted annoyed when she did that, but sometimes Ty Lee thought she secretly liked it.”—This is so sad, given that we know why Azula comes back upset. I also relate to the distraction tactic. My friends and I use it on each other all of the time when we’re upset.

 Ty Lee considers staying a few extra days to make sure that Azula is feeling better, which definitely goes against Azula’s warning—but then, Ty Lee doesn’t know that she’s in danger. Ty Lee continues to wait for Azula, even after it gets dark. “Every time she looked up into that dark immensity, Ty Lee thought it looked like a giant mouth. Like Azula slept in a dragon’s maw.”—Oh look, a metaphor!

 In the middle of the night, Ozai comes into Azula’s room in a rage and starts destroying her changing screen, which is another abusive action—ruining her belongings in his anger, rather than anything belonging to him—and is probably also a metaphor, since the screen could represent her privacy.

 Ozai quickly realizes that Ty Lee is in the room and reigns himself in, though he’s still radiating rage, and Ty Lee knows that he could hurt her: “And Ty Lee knew a moment of blinding terror, when she imagined his big hands doing to her what they did to the screen….” She actually does think that he’s going to hit her at one point.

 He interrogates her on why she’s there, and Ty Lee thinks about how he and Zuko have the same eyes. It draws to mind that Zuko actually has the same explosive anger as Ozai, though he, at least, has the excuse of youth. Ty Lee, brave as she is, questions Ozai about where Azula is, and doesn’t buy the explanation he gives her.

 “‘She is a prodigy [ . . . ] My perfect girl….’ Something in his voice made Ty Lee’s eyes go wide. He talked about Azula like—like maybe she wasn’t those things anymore. Like something bad happened to her….”—Woof. First, she shouldn’t have to be perfect. Second, what’s happening to Azula is your fault, Ozai, not hers.

 “‘She will sit the Burning Throne one day, with the world for her dominion.’”—Title drop! “‘Nothing will divert her from that goal. Nothing [ . . . ] and no one.’”—What if Azula has different dreams, Ozai? What if she does something wild like fall in love? What is SHE wants to join a circus? Cirque Du Soleil, maybe!

 In any case, Ty Lee doesn’t get the hint that Ozai is talking about her, or that he sees Ty Lee as a distraction to Azula. Namely, a distraction from him and his ambitions.

 “Ty Lee spotted two servants halfway down the length of it. They scrubbed at a dark stain on the tile floor, working on hands and knees with their heads together, whispering. They fell silent immediately on spotting the Fire Lord, and redoubled their efforts, eyes fixed determinedly on their work and not on the young girl he led by the arm down a side passage.”—Oh, they absolutely know what’s going on with Azula. That he’s dragging another young girl down a hallway is not a good look for him, either.

 Ozai shoves Ty Lee off onto a guard to escort out of the palace. The guard, to his credit, is gentle with her. Once outside, Ty Lee considers trying to go back inside, wanting to prove to Azula that they’re friends. However, she heeds Azula’s warning instead, which likely saves her life, since Ozai would done something terrible had she ignored his threats. She would have become a security risk once she knew the truth, after all, and it’s not like she’s her family’s heir.  

 We flash forward to the present day, with Ty Lee reminiscing on what happened afterwards. Ty Lee wrote to Azula, but I strongly suspect that Azula burned the letters after reading them, and didn’t send letters back because she was worried that someone might use them to track Ty Lee down. That and she was pretending that Ty Lee had stolen from her, so no sense in acting too chummy. Also, Azula is Ty Lee’s “first and oldest friend,” which is cute and probably implies the same thing right back at Ty Lee.

 Ty Lee thinks about how Azula’s aura was different when they met again, and how Zuko’s was the same color for a while. She noticed that Azula was cold and lying all of the time (her aura colors meaning, “fear of the future, self-expression, or telling the truth,” “struggling to maintain control,” “anger,” and “survival-oriented”), and was getting worse and worse mentally, especially after Zuko left again. Eventually, it was so bad that Ty Lee was scared of her….

 But because Ty Lee is a saint, they reconnected at the asylum. When Ty Lee shows her the seal, Azula has doubts that she’ll put her name to anything again, and I’m like, “Please, there is no story if you don’t.”

 “Azula didn’t think she would ever get out of the asylum [ . . . ] Zuko refused to even consider releasing her. He would see she wasn’t crazy anymore if he just talked to her, but Zuko wouldn’t even see her. Yeah, Ty Lee knew they had a bad history, but wasn’t it a Fire Lord’s job to take care of all his subjects, even the ones he didn’t like? It made her mad just thinking about it, about him. Why wouldn’t he listen? Didn’t he care?”—Well for one thing, Ty Lee, if Zuko lets Azula out of the asylum, she’ll have to stand trial. She’ll also no longer be under his control, which he cares about much more than Azula herself.

 “Azula said not to come back for her birthday, but she didn’t say when to come back. And Ty Lee was left wondering if the answer was, well…never. No. Azula was her friend. She was as much, and meant it.”—So good to see someone having faith in Azula! You go, Ty Lee!

 In the present day, the other Kyoshi Warriors all know that Azula has escaped the asylum, but no one has told Ty Lee.

 “her skirts falling to cover the linen pantalettes most Kyoshins hadn’t even know were part of the uniform, until Ty Lee arrived.”—This is very funny, given what it implies about Ty Lee’s love of acrobatics.

 Aww, Azula is wearing her hair in a braid like Ty Lee taught her. I know it’s more practical for her long hair, but it’s also sweet (and smart, not wearing it in the traditional Fire Nation topknot).

 Ty Lee, our sweet summer child, thinks that Zuko let Azula go. “Azula frowned, and a guardedness stole over her face. For once, she looked more sad than angry at the mention of her brother.”—That stings. But the two go inside to discuss Azula’s escape more, since Azula quickly establishes that she broke herself out.

 Ty Lee’s house is a mess, because of course it is, but Azula doesn’t actually mind—probably too tired to. “Ty Lee stared. Since when was Azula fine with messy surroundings? She was such a neat-freak even when they were kids that she cleaned Ty Lee’s room unprompted practically every time she came over. One of the lesser-known benefits of having the princess for a friend.”—This is rather funny. I would also not be surprised if, in a modern setting, Azula was diagnosed with some form of OCD, given this sort of behavior.

 Azula is very chill and polite during this visit—you can see how much she’s grown when contrasting this to how she treated Ty Lee in the flashback—and perks up at the thought of food. Ty Lee starts to make breakfast, thinking about what Azula’s escape might mean. We get more about how the Kyoshi Warriors are still bitter at Azula, and how Ty Lee sticking up for Azula drove a wedge between her and the others. “Four years, and it was like they didn’t trust her at all!”—Probably because they don’t, where Azula is concerned.

 “And she would do just about anything for Azula. Anything but hurt another friend. She drew that line at the boiling Rock, and for all her doubts, Ty Lee didn’t think the princess would cross it again.”—Good, Ty Lee, I’m glad that you’ve set a boundary. Though you might want to be more worried about Mai now, since she would benefit from Azula being hurt or killed, and is still in demonizing Azula mode.

 Apparently, back when they were travelling together, Azula would start the campfire and then do firebending practice, rather than helping cook or set up camp, which was self-centered of her. There’s a faint echo of this set-up here, though it’s happening in Ty Lee’s home, and Azula stays put this time.

 Ty Lee asks when Azula escaped, and Azula admits that it was on her birthday—Ty Lee had visited two days before—and Ty Lee asks her a piercing question about why she didn’t want Ty Lee there for it: “Was it because—you didn’t want to make me choose again? Or because [ . . . ] you didn’t think I’d choose you?”

 Azula admits that there was some of both reasons in there, which Ty Lee is hurt by. “Azula had issues with trust, she knew that. But she still couldn’t help thinking, It’s like nobody trusts me at all! All she wanted was for everyone to like her. Was that so much to ask?”—This is self-centered of Ty Lee, but I’m amused by how this quote ends. No, Ty Lee, not everyone is going to like you, and that’s okay. It sucks, but that’s just how life is. But she’s what, eighteen, so of course that will take some time for her to internalize. Even though I, personally, do think everyone should like her, because she’s great.

 “‘I would have chose you,’ Ty Lee said softly, seating herself beside the princess to put them on equal conversational footing. She reached across the table and their empty plates to grasp Azula’s arm. ‘It was wrong of Zuko to keep you there. I told him so, lots of times.’”—This is such a sweet moment and strikes a great contrast to the conversation they had in the flashback. Whereas Azula lashed out in the flashback and Ty Lee wasn’t sure what to do, now Azula is being vulnerable and accepting Ty Lee’s comfort. It’s really nice.

 “Azula looked up with a sad smile. ‘I know you did.’”—My heart!

 Azula then surprises Ty Lee by asking about her mother, Princess Ursa, and where Zuko searched for her. Mostly he searched in the colonies (have those reverted to the Earth Kingdom or are they still Fire Nation-owned?), but lost the trail at the Great Divide. That place is such a curse to our heroes, isn’t it?

 Ty Lee thinks that this is a new adventure to go on with Azula, which on the one hand, I would love, but on the other hand, I’m offended on behalf of the Kyoshi Warriors. Is she just planning to ditch them? Also, from a meta standpoint, she’d be third-wheeling later on. Azula gently shoots the idea down, but proposes that Ty Lee be her ally among her enemies. Not a spy, but a safety net. Ty Lee initially thinks about how Azula once burned her own safety net, but then thinks, “She’s not that person anymore [ . . . ] She’s changed.” Which I do think is true. Azula has a lot of lingering problems, but she does seem genuine about making things up to Ty Lee. So Ty Lee agrees to the deal.

 And then the eggs burn and Azula vomits at the smell. Azula reveals that she’s been getting sick a lot lately, which she chalks up to the Earth Kingdom’s food being too heavy. Ty Lee is skeptical of this, and then puts the pieces together before Azula does: Azula is pregnant! Ty Lee is pretty adorably excited about this, not noticing that Azula is quietly panicking, and asks who the father is, which is a line of questioning that Azula shuts down: “‘He’s married [ . . . ] and even if he weren’t, completely worthless.’”

 Ty Lee’s exuberance will not be deterred, but Azula is very much not excited: “I’m on the run from the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom both. This can only slow me down, and make it harder to hide. I should—“—Get rid of it. But Azula isn’t going to, even though she knows that it’s not strategically sound for her to be pregnant, let alone have a baby. At the same time, abortion carries its own, potentially deadly risks.

 “And an awful thought occurred to Ty Lee, one too terrible to put to words even. This whole time, she had imagined Azula falling in love with some handsome guard who spirited her away in the middle of the night, or a brave young general who always loved her from afar and broke her out of the asylum to restore her crown…. But she was pregnant, and alone. That should have been Ty Lee’s first clue something was wrong.”—Woof. She doesn’t think that Azula might have been assaulted here, but she does sense that there was nothing romantic in what happened. Also, her fantasies for Azula are so saccharine! XD  

 When Ty Lee asks for more info, Azula, blushing with shame, says, “‘I don’t—even remember most of it. It might have happened to someone else.’”—Confirming that she was disassociating in chapter seven.

 Azula starts crying and Ty Lee hugs her. Azula returns the hug and rambles about how this is another way for “him” to control her, and how much she doesn’t want him to have power over her, which Ty Lee doesn’t understand. But she’s supportive of Azula and tells her that she’ll get through this, because Azula always figures something out.

 Ty Lee takes Azula back inside and notices that her aura is a mix of colors, including lemon-yellow, which she thought happened when Azula was lying, but actually represents the fear of losing control. Which, you know, makes sense coming from Azula. The white with white sparkles is the baby.

 “Wow, Azula with a baby. It was hard to imagine. But he’d be next in line for the throne, after Lu Ten and Azula herself. Unless—did illegitimate children still inherit? Ty Lee should know this, she used to be a noble.”—Oh Ty Lee, sweetie. No, bastards don’t inherit unless they are legitimized by royal decree. Granted, it’s possible, even probable, that this child will be legitimized, though Zuko would have to be the one to do it. Unless Azula claimed the throne, in which case, she could do it herself. Which would be great. Upset that monarchal system, Azula, it’s terrible!

 “Or maybe she would have a girl! Ty Lee hoped she had a girl, one who looked just like her. Ty Lee wondered what the father looked like.”—Pretty dang similar, Ty Lee! Pretty dang similar!

 Kaede, one of the Kyoshi Warriors, comes knocking on Ty Lee’s door to tell her about Azula’s escape. You know, only a month late. Ty Lee yells to try to wake Azula up, because Azula is a light sleeper. Yeah, abuse trains you not to sleep too deeply.

 Kaede catches on to the fact that Ty Lee might have Azula around when she sees there are two plates set out, though Ty Lee tries to throw her off the scent by suggesting that she’s waiting for Shan Mo, her newest suitor. Oh Ty Lee, if only you were bi and dating girls too, then Kaede couldn’t catch you out on this lie. Apparently, the men take long fishing trips. Kaede insists on going in and checking the house out, but fortunately, Azula has already fled.

 Kaede and Ty Lee follow her into the woods. Kaede is shocked to see Azula looking like such a mess, and Azula, being a quick-thinker, loudly accuses Ty Lee of betraying her. It takes Ty Lee a second to catch on, and her response is hilarious: “You’re mean, and I hate you for ALL TIME!” Even if Ty Lee was an amazing actress, I’m pretty sure Kaede wouldn’t have bought this. Not when Ty Lee has been visiting Azula for years now, with her last visit being a scant two days before Azula broke out. The Kyoshi Warriors might even think she helped somehow, even if Ty Lee didn’t accompany Azula off of Ember Island.

 “Kaede had drawn her katana, but actually lowered it along with her fan to glance at Ty Lee in disbelief.”—Your distraction, Kaede, is why you’re about to get your butt whooped.

 There is some fighting, which is dynamic and exciting, but this cuteness is what sticks out to me: “Ty Lee couldn’t help grinning up at Azula, when the princess flipped overhead. It was always cool to see her combine firebending with the acrobatics Ty Lee taught her. It made her feel a warm glow of accomplishment inside, as if she were the one to pull that off.”—I blame you entirely for making me ship them, Aurelia. Stuff like this makes me want them to take over the palace and raise Azula’s baby together.

 Azula knocks Kaede out, and when Ty Lee goes to check on Kaede to confirm that she’s okay, Azula makes a sarcastic quip about what a relief that is. Ty Lee isn’t upset by this—she’s happy that Azula still has her sense of humor: “Most people didn’t realize Azula had a sense of humor, ‘cause it was kind of a black humor. But when she lost it, that was always a bad sign.”—Contrast this later to how alarmed a certain someone is by Azula’s dark humor, and how Azula reacts to it.

 “‘Listen, you’re going to be fine [ . . . ] You’re the most beautiful, smartest, perfect girl in the world!’”—First, be more bi, Ty Lee. Be more bi. Second, Azula just nods in response to this, as if she’s humoring Ty Lee’s views of her. She doesn’t actually seem to believe these things about herself anymore, if she ever did.

 Azula suggests that Ty Lee needs to be knocked out when the other Warriors find her, and Ty Lee reveals that she can do that to herself: “Ty Lee had ended up practicing that move on herself and volunteers of varying willingness a lot of times, before she got it right.”—Never change, Ty Lee.  

 Ty Lee doesn’t let Azula leave without a hug this time. Azula hugs her back, and also gives Ty Lee a backwards glance goodbye as she goes. How they’ve both grown since the flashback! Loving the parallelism here!

 As Azula heads out, she focuses on the negatives of being pregnant. She then has this truly depressing series of thoughts: “Azula took a moment to wonder if this was how her mother felt about her. If Ursa ever considered ending it, ending her before she ever came into the world. Her mother hadn’t wanted another child, Dad told her. Their marriage had already soured by then, and she was happy in her precious son. But Zuko was a weakling, her father knew it even then. So he demanded another, and her mother complied. She might have acted in secret to prevent him, maybe even did a few times before Azula…. But she could not deny him forever. So Ozai got his wish. And Azula got a mother who hated her existence.”

 First, Ozai had no business telling Azula any of that, and almost certainly did it to turn Azula against her mother and draw her closer to him. Second, this paints a very dark picture of Ozai and Ursa’s marriage—a picture we will later learn to be true. It shows the ugliness of a society where divorce isn’t permitted, and where wives are obligated to have their husbands’ children, regardless of what they themselves want.

 Azula then starts to consider herself as a potential parent. “Could she do that to a child? [ . . . ] Even if it lived—and with such unfortunate paternity, there was every chance it wouldn’t—could Azula give it that kind of start?”—The fact that she’s wondering this is a promising sign, even if Azula doesn’t realize it yet. It’s also relatable to any victim of child abuse who worries about mistreating their own children, someday.

 “You had a father who loved you [ . . . ] How many times did she tell herself that was enough? Enough that he wanted her, enough that he saw her worth?”—Azula, sweetie, if you have to tell yourself this, then it means you don’t have enough emotional support in your life, even from him.

 “This baby, if it lived, wouldn’t have even that. Her brother had been happy enough to take advantage, but he didn’t ask for this either. And Zuko never took responsibility for anything, unless it made him look good. His failings were always someone else’s fault. Usually hers.”—This is ugly, but also true about Zuko. I do think that he made progress in the show, between apologizing to Iroh and helping the Avatar. But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t slip up and fall back into old habits sometimes, especially where Azula is concerned. After all, how would she know that he’s grown as a person, when he’s never showed empathy towards her?

 “She blamed the hormones. She blamed her brother, damn him. Damn him. Halfway around the world, and still managed to ruin her life….”—I should note that while I’m not a fan of Zuko’s behavior, Azula is just as poisoned against him. She’s not wrong about this. But she’ll have to deal with her bitterness towards him too, someday.

 Azula runs into another group of Warriors and thinks, “They fancied themselves as defenders, not aggressors. Azula counted that about as smart as fighting with one hand tied behind your back.”—This might be a viewpoint shaped by her being a part of a colonizing force, rather than a defending one. I also notice that as she gives them a speech, she goes into a stance where one arm is shielding her core. That could just be a part of the form, but it could also be a subtle, unconscious way of protecting the baby.

 During the fight that follows, Azula uses Ty Lee’s techniques against the group, but never aims to kill them—something that can not be said of the Kyoshi Warriors, since they’re using live steel.

 “Azula considered them coolly when they fell back to regroup, failing to see the appeal. But then, Ty Lee always did have bad taste when left to her own devices. It was probably inevitable this would extend to her chosen companions.”—Somewhere, Mai is snickering at Azula’s expense. But also, have a little more faith in Ty Lee, Azula.

 “A minute’s swordplay, and they forgot that she could firebend. It might almost be funny, if it wasn’t just sad.”—LOL.

 “The rain of blows was almost more than Azula could keep up with, her training with blades being nowhere near as extensive as, for example, her brother’s.”—I’m shocked. Azula is admitting that Zuko is better than her at something!

 “Never bring a sword to a firefight [ . . . ] Sokka’s little tart might have told you so, if she ever bothered to learn.”—I think this might be the first time that Azula has referenced a member of the Gaang (sans Zuko) by name. It implies that she has a little more respect for him than the others.

 One of the downed Warriors says that the Earth Kingdom is planning to take Azula’s head off, to which Azula sarcastically remarks, “‘Trusting to the competence of others [ . . . ] Always a sound strategy.’”—I see Azula’s point that trusting strangers to do a job for you probably isn’t going to work out. However, she should know the value of teamwork, given her journey with Mai and Ty Lee. Possibly she’ll really embrace the concept down the road, but we’ll see.

 “And for all that Azula could probably blast enough of them to ashes to make an instructive example, that would hardly contribute to her friendship with Ty Lee.”—Ah yes, making up excuses for why you don’t want to kill people, Azula. Ozai would not have hesitated.

 As Azula passes through town, I’ll note there are many men in the crowd, so perhaps Kaede’s comment earlier referred to a specific group of them. Also, as they start to chase after her, Azula does something very cool: “Azula [ . . . ] punched the sand. And blue flames flared from her fist like phoenix wings, surging to twice her own height when they seared down the beach in either direction, drawing a line of fire in the sand. Her attackers scrambled back with gasps and a few yells, when her fire fused the grains to glass and leapt high to hide her from view, fed by her chi. Even those who fought the Fire Navy would not have seen this kata, taught almost exclusively for exhibition firebending. Azula herself hadn’t practiced it in a few months, and was gratified that she remembered it so well.”

 It shouldn’t surprise me that Azula knows firebending moves that are for exhibitions, rather than combat, but I love the thought of her tackling these moves just for the joy of it. In a different universe, I could see her taking great satisfaction in winning firebending competitions, possibly while in disguise so as not to sway the judges with her royal status. In fact, Aurelia, let’s maybe add that to the Aunt Tam AU. Tam wants her to join an extracurricular at the Academy. Trophies ensue, which may or may not end up in Tam’s china cabinet (which, knowing her, never actually contained china).

 Azula took a tourist boat from Chin Village to get here, which is a fun mental image. She makes a joke about hoping that the villagers can swim, but of course they can. Fortunately, she manages to get away on another boat, but thinks, “Was it going to be like this in every town that recognized her? How tiresome.”—I don’t want to say that’s what you get for being part of an imperialist regime and conquering the largest city in the Earth Kingdom, but…that’s kind of what you get when you do that! XD

 Ty Lee wanted to be an actress at one point. I think she made the right call by joining the circus instead, since it’s much more suited to her talents.

 “It had been six years to the day Ty Lee ran away for the circus”—That’s interesting. Ty Lee left a month after Azula’s thirteenth birthday.

 “An invisible weight seemed to settle in her stomach when she thought back to that, the worst day of her life until she lost the Agni Kai….”—This is very sad. Also, she admits to losing the Agni Kai here, rather than Zuko cheating by having a second.

 Now we return to the flashback we began the chapter with. This time, it’s from Azula’s perspective, and she isn’t doing well. She’s dizzy, in pain, and she’s bleeding heavily, enough so that her thighs are already covered in blood, right after she’s changed clothes. She’s worried she’s going to leave a trail before much longer.

 “No one could know, no one could ever know, she remembered, forcing herself to take one step, then another. He said, never tell….”—This is horrifying.

 “How could there be anything still left inside her? He said that this would end it, he said that it was safe. Their own court physician handed her the prescription, and told her how to brew the tea.”—But did he say how much to take? Also, why in god’s name weren’t you kept in the infirmary? Sure, that would risk someone finding out what’s going on, but if Ozai hadn’t summoned Azula, Azula would probably have bled to death in her bedroom. The only reason that she didn’t die was because a servant went to get a doctor. Alternatively, Ty Lee probably would have gotten a doctor, but either way, sending her to her room alone was a bad idea. You need to observe someone who’s going through this in case something bad happens. Which, you know (gestures wildly at the blood).

 “It was too late for these doubts [ . . . ] The time for doubt, if it had ever been, was gone.”—Azula, I’m going to be straight with you. You’re dying. It’s natural to have doubts now.

 “Her father was waiting for her, and she couldn’t disappoint him. Especially now…. He had said it was his fault. He miscalculated. She couldn’t have known. He spoke so softly when he said it, he didn’t even sound like himself. But that it happened at all suggested a lack of control. She had to prove she was still in control, always in control. She had to prove he could depend on her in anything—”—Or, maybe, and I know this is wild, Azula, but hear me out: YOU DO NOT NEED TO MAKE UP FOR YOUR FATHER’S FAILINGS. YOU ARE A CHILD. HE SHOULD BE TAKING CARE OF YOU, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND. IF HE WAS TAKING CARE OF YOU LIKE A PROPER PARENT, THIS WOULDN’T HAVE HAPPENED.

 Of course, I’m talking to a wall of text right now, but sue me, this part makes me emotional.

 Azula collapses, much to the alarm of the servant. Azula grabs her wrist and orders her to get a doctor, but the servant is “staring with eyes wide as saucers at something near Azula’s feet.” Which is blood, by the way—a spreading pool of blood. Best case scenario, the palace staff assumes that someone stabbed the princess. But in all likelihood, it’s clear to the servant what this is and what it means. If the servant is smart, she’ll say nothing. But I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a staffing purge after this, and I mean that in a very permanent sense.

 “A cold heaviness settled over her like a blanket of snow.”—I wonder how Azula knows what that feels like?

 “It was only when she was gone and the abandoned hall grew dim round her, that Azula let her tears fall. It was only then she let herself wonder, if her father intended this all along….”—Ooof, this hurts.

 “It was all training. She knew that, he knew that. But he had been very clear. No one else could know. They wouldn’t understand. It would mean the end of his reign as Fire Lord, the end of her place in the line of succession.”—Then why, in god’s name, did you do this, Ozai? Why take on this much risk? I daresay it’s overconfidence, since he didn’t foresee what’s happening to Azula right now, but good lord, he’s really something else.

 “He could always have more children [ . . . ] With someone who isn’t his daughter.”—God, I hate this. This poor kid!

 “But then…why send Ty Lee away? Azula grasped at the possibility. He must not want her to know what they did, but—But why bother to hurt you, when what he really meant was to kill you? She shuddered, bending in on herself. It occurred to her in that moment that there was something profoundly wrong with her life, if this was the only explanation she could find for it.”—There it is. For just a moment, Azula realizes what how nightmarish her life and her relationship with her father are. She’s going to bury this truth, but deep down, she knows that this is wrong. Even if it’s going to take her years to face it again.

 “She wished she hadn’t sent Ty Lee away. She wished it until the same image came unbidden to her mind, as when her friend revealed her father’s hand in this. Ty Lee with a scar like Zuko’s, smiling, still smiling until she winced. And the same pain blossomed in her chest as before, surpassing what she felt now as the sun surpassed the moon. She couldn’t let it happen.”—Azula loves Ty Lee so much, even if she’s bad at showing it. I think that if Azula had to chose between Ty Lee and her father, this tells us who she would pick, even if no one, even Azula, would believe it.

 Azula blacks out and wakes up intermittently in the infirmary over the following days. “She was in [ . . . ] the same bed they put her brother in when Dad scarred him, ironically enough.”—Yes, that sure is ironic, considering that Ozai’s abuse towards Azula is what landed her here, just like with Zuko.

 “Her father was never there when she woke. She wondered if he came while she slept. She wondered if she even wanted him to.”—Good. Be disillusioned with him. Don’t want him around. I think if you were in any shape to run away from him, I’d encourage you to do so. Catch up with Ty Lee and show off your firebending at the circus. I mean, I know Ozai would track you down soon afterwards, but I just want good things for you, Azula. Staying with him will not accomplish that.

 “He drew a chair up beside her bed and took a seat as if this were an invitation. Not that he needed one.”—I hate monarchies and patriarchies so much.

 Azula can’t even sit up from the pain, which Ozai frowns at. What a dick.

 “It was disrespectful not to look at him when he was speaking, but she couldn’t seem to do it.”—I wouldn’t want to look at him either, Azula. He’s awful. “And she closed her eyes at this, feeling as if the longer he sat there, the less air there was in the room.”—This is a bad sign, Azula, on top of all the warning klaxons and flashing danger lights.

 “She raised her eyes to his face and traced the line of his jaw, the arch of his brows, the slant of his eyes. All features he passed on to her.”—Ugh.

 “This was kinder than she could remember him being in a long time. It should have made her feel better. But it didn’t.”—She is so defeated here, and I don’t blame her for it.

 Ozai, being a despicable person, says that this never needs to happen again—not because he’s planning to stop her training, but because he now realizes that using birth control would be a good idea! Azula is understandably horrified. “She almost died, and he wasn’t going to stop.”—Run, Azula. Run away as fast as you can. You will die if you stay in this relationship. I suspect the only reason you didn’t was because of how the events in the show worked out.

 “He must have felt her hands jump under his, because Ozai tightened his grip, his hand grown hot enough to sear her skin. A warning of what she could expect if she failed him. Azula knew better than to betray any sign of discomfort.”—Aang, maybe you should have killed Ozai. I get why you didn’t. I get why the writers of the show didn’t want to go in that direction. But Ozai is a monstrous person. Even if he wasn’t trying to conquer the world and willing to burn whole chunks of it to accomplish that goal, how he treats his children is heinous.

 Ozai gives her a speech about why her training is important, and I’m sitting here like, “Cool motive, still sexual abuse.” There were other ways Azula could have learned this material—books, lectures from courtesans, maybe some experimentations of her own when she was old enough for it. Instead, the trauma from this abuse is going to haunt her well into adulthood. None of this is making her stronger, either. If anything, it’s left her vulnerable to inappropriate sexual advances, and has made it so that she dissociates during sex, rather than being present for it.

 “‘There will always be those who underestimate you, because you were born second, or born a woman.’ She knew he spoke from experience, and felt the same warm glow she always did inside, when he shared that with her. ‘Do not let it gall you as I did, my dear.’”—This would almost be sweet if Ozai wasn’t an emotionally manipulative jerk.

 “He stood then, and surprised her by bending to place a light kiss on her forehead, his big hand cupping her chin. He hadn’t done that since she was a little girl”—I hate him so much. This is also manipulative, though I’m not sure if Ozai realizes that that’s what he’s doing.

 “Your reaction to the herb was…unexpected. And Lao will pay dearly for it, once your recovery is complete.”—Lao vanished soon afterwards, never to be seen or heard from again.

 “I do not mean to harm you [ . . . ] I hope you never doubted that.”—But do your intentions matter when you DID harm her, haven’t apologized for it, and won’t change your actions to ensure her safety in the future?

 “‘I never did,’ Azula said quietly. That almost-smiled tugged at the corners of his mouth then, and she knew that he was pleased. It was the first time she succeeded in lying to her father. Azula felt hollow inside.”—Azula has lost her faith in her father. This isn’t a bad thing, though. What’s unfortunate is that she can’t and won’t leave him, even after all of this trauma. I suspect that she’ll think that she has to take care of him, because he’s a flawed human being who “needs” her. But something has broken here, and I hope that someday, she’ll be able to leave him behind. But it’s probably going to be a long time before that happens.

 And that wraps up chapter twelve! As always, thank you for the read, Aurelia!

 Sincerely,

WiseAbsol    

#Dominion by Aurelia le #Azula #avatar: the last airbender #Fanfiction #Review #WiseAbsol

[badmcuposts]

Lifeboat

TW: Suicide, Major character death, minor character death, kidnapping, childhood sexual assault, rape, pedophilia, child pornography, orphans, guns, alcohol mention, self-centered homophobia, intrusive thoughts

Based on the song from heathers. Peter feels like it’s finally time to stop the pain he’s been in for years, before it continues to get worse.

-

Peter will always remember the first time he cried into this pillow. Only 6 at the time, he celebrated the anniversary of his mommy and daddy’s death by sobbing in his bedroom, alone. He will always remember the crushing feeling that began to leak inside of him that day, thick as black tar. Mainly because it never stopped.

I float in a boat

In a raging black ocean

It wasn’t much later that he met a young boy by the name of Eugene Thompson, who insisted that everyone refer to him as “Flash”. After a particularly bad asthma attack at recess, leading to Peter having to be carried by a teacher to an awaiting ambulance, Flash began to berate Peter over anything he could find wrong with his classmate. After all, Peter was an easy target. If he tried to throw a punch, he was likely to collapse. But once the slight jeers began to fester into full-on beatings, things got messier, there were more black eyes to cover up, more scratches to hide behind sleeves, and more bloody noses to clot in the school bathroom. Each day Peter felt the black tar in his stomach rise a little higher.

Low in the water

With nowhere to go

A few weeks after Peter’s seventh birthday, his aunt and uncle began going on dates again. They got him a babysitter, a young man of 23 years by the name of Steven Westcott. Steven was a fun babysitter, and liked to be called “Skip”. Skip would play games with Peter, starting with simple rounds of uno. They were soon best friends, as far as Peter’s young mind could tell. He always said that Peter was the smartest person in the world, calling him “Einstein” as a nod to the boy’s intellect. However, soon the games became more touchy. Switching from uno to twister, to cuddling by the tv, to cuddling in Ben and May’s bed, to Peter laying naked as Skip took pictures of him, to Skip laying on top of Peter while they were both naked. After 8 months of abuse Peter finally slipped up. He accidentally mentioned the ‘games’ to his Aunt May, who called the authorities. Inside of the pedophile’s apartment were thousands of pictures of uncomfortable and nude young boys in suggestive poses. And in a special folder, Peter Parker’s innocence was stored with a paper clip and stolen lock of the boy’s hair. Skip Westcott would go to jail, but the ghosted feeling of his hands would never leave Peter’s skin. And whenever those long gone hands would touch him once again, thousands of buckets of tar added to his chest.

The tiniest lifeboat

With people I know

Peter tried to ignore it. He tried to be a big boy and suck it up. But by his tenth birthday, he began to find his failures on his own. He no longer needed Flash, it was like his mind had become his own bully. Like the way his best friend made him feel butterflies when they would talk on the phone at night, which meant he must be some freak of nature. Because Peter Parker was looking at Ned Leeds the way he was supposed to look at a girl. And with each moment that passed with his newfound crush’s obliviousness, another drop of tar joined the raging sea in his stomach.

Cold, clammy, and crowded

The people smell desperate

When Peter was 12, he saw a young girl be grabbed and thrown into the back of a van. As it quickly zoomed off, he stood there. Still. Frozen in fear. His fight or flight failed as he stared off at the speeding vehicle. When he finally managed to gather the courage to move and call his uncle for help, it had been over seven minutes. They called the police, and hailed a taxi to the station. The men in dark blue uniforms had Peter tell his story thousands of times, making sure they had every detail just right. Of course they didn’t believe him the first couple times, who would? He was just a kid. A stupid, ridiculous, puny little kid. They said they believed him. They were lying. After all, why else would they have pulled up security cameras “just to be sure”?The girl was identified, and her parents were called with the bad news. The young couple had been sobbing, begging for someone to find their baby, but the car’s untraceable plate and clever route led to only dead ends in the search. 8 year old Pamela Norris was never seen again, but Peter would always imagine the worst. Perhaps she, too, began feeling hands on her stomach and neck. But in this version of the story, Peter wasn’t the victim again, he was the witness. He should have manned up and done something, anything. And each time he would imagine the faces of her parents, the way they had cried into each other’s arms after they were brought into the police station, and the tar would fill just that much higher.

We’ll sink any minute

So someone must go

He would never admit it, but the sudden urge to swallow a billion containers of ibuprofen wasn’t overwhelmingly surprising. He’d heard of this feeling, met people online who felt the pull and tug of their own brain, but couldn’t figure out how to control it. Something about the relief, the way his stomach stopped aching and his head stopped spinning, made Peter crave the chalky taste of pills. For once, he could control all of the pain in his life, and take the easier parts away. All he had to do was take one more pill, one more pill, maybe five, maybe ten, maybe he’ll just down the whole bottle. If only he could get away with it, he’d do anything for that sweet relief.

The tiniest lifeboat

Full of people I know

When high school started, Peter thought the worst of his problems were over. He was fourteen now, just barely. Being that in his short experience with life he had already hit rock bottom, there was nowhere to go but up. Well, except for the fact that he had brought a shovel. When Ben took him on that midnight run to the nearest bodega, nobody had expected for a petty thief with a gun to shoot a bullet through an innocent bystander’s head. But then there was Peter, holding his uncle as the older man bled out. And the tar rose ten inches, one for each tear Peter shed.

Everyone’s pushing

Everyone’s fighting

Storms are approaching

There’s nowhere to hide

A mere week later, Peter had been convinced to go on a school field trip for a sense of normality to return. Instead, Parker Luck decided to steal all of Peter’s normality in the form of a radioactive spider bite. Peter would spend days throwing up in his bedroom, hoping for the sweet release of death. When he was finally well again, he would be stuck with an overwhelming sense of anxiety. He could hear everything, see everything, know everything. And if a few kids whispered about him only a few classrooms over, Peter would have no choice but to listen. It was as if Flash’s words had become inescapable, now spread in a similar fashion by different students. Even kids Peter had thought were nice were soon revealed to him as snakes. He wished that spider had just killed him, because the tar was beginning to rise up his throat.

If I say the wrong thing

Or I wear the wrong outfit

They’ll throw me right over the side

Peter was angry, so angry. He didn’t do anything right, ever. He had been given an opportunity by Tony Stark to work under his supervision, and he messed up. If he had just been a little bit better he could have proved himself. To Tony, to May, to the world. But life didn’t work like that, huh? Because some evil force let him be stupid enough to be hit across the airport like a rag doll. Someone out there was playing him with a voodoo doll and he didn’t like it. Because this wasn’t a game anymore, this was his one chance to be a real hero and he failed. He had owed himself this. For the sake of every child in New York City, he should have been better. He had been benched because he wasn’t good enough, he would never be good enough. He was probably only allowed to keep the suit so Mr. Stark could laugh at him from the cameras, like everyone else did. As fate played her twisted games, Peter felt another flow of tar spill up his esophagus.

I’m hugging my knees

And the Captain is pointing

Well, who made her captain?

So now, as Peter holds onto his pillow, he reminds himself why he is here. Just why his awful horrible terrible handwriting has added a thousand apologies to the once pristine surface of his favorite pillow, now stained in black ink. An explanation for each person he owes one to. And as he drops the pillow behind him, to be found after all is done, he prepares himself at the edge of the building. Finally, Peter lets the last drop of tar begin to overflow into his mouth, and lets himself fall.

Still, the weakest must go

The body of 16 year old Peter Parker was found on the sidewalk by a group of men walking home from a bar. The designated driver of the group called the police, and the news spread like wildfire. Midtown Tech hosted an assembly to honor the life of a straight A student, People from all over queens who knew Peter in his life cried, and Tony Stark personally appeared at what seemed to be the funeral of a random boy whom he had never met. And within a week of the burial, May Parker was found dead in her bathroom, having overdosed to stop the pain of losing the boy she had raised as her own son.

The tiniest lifeboat

Full of people I know

#skip westcott #tom holland #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman fanfiction #peter parker fic #angst fic #peterned #my fics

[lilyvandersteen]

Out of the Blue: Chapter 2

Cover art: @redheadgleek​

Beta extraordinaire: @hkvoyage​

Links: AO3, FF.net

Author’s Note:

The Twitter feed mentioned in this chapter circulated around Tumblr a while back, and I just KNEW I had to turn it into a fic one day :D

This is the blog post in question: https://lilyvandersteen.tumblr.com/post/190456831744/thesorrowoflizards-awful-brew

Chapter 2: A Good Idea

“This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!” said Mrs. Bennet, more than once, as if the credit of making it rain were all her own. Till the next morning, however, she was not aware of all the felicity of her contrivance.

(An excerpt from Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen)

Kurt sipped from his cocktail and leaned back contently. It was Friday night, he didn’t have any shifts at the diner the following day, and all his favorite girls were here for a night out, even Mercedes and Brittany. Life was good.

It was fun catching up with everyone. He told them all about the photo shoots he’d helped his boss Isabelle with at Vogue, and the articles he’d written for the website. Quinn was interning with a district attorney at the moment, and talked about the court cases she’d attended so far. Tina had been helping out a vet treating farm animals exclusively, and told stories about cows calving and a horse that had to be put down after breaking its leg. Mercedes’ tour was a big success, and she was thinking of taking it overseas. Brittany, who was one of the back-up dancers at Mercedes’ concerts, was all for that plan, and summed up all the cities she wanted to visit.

Rachel, for once, wasn’t monopolizing the conversation, seeing as she was sad about another short relationship that hadn’t worked out. And Santana was more mellow than usual, seeing as she had Brittany with her.

The two of them were cuddling and whispering softly and smiling, and it sent a pang of jealousy through Kurt. He didn’t envy Santana the long-distance relationship. He’d witnessed first-hand how hard it was for her sometimes. But he did long for that bond that Santana and Brittany had. He too wanted someone who’d understand him with half a word, who’d move mountains just to be with him and who’d look at him as though he were the most precious jewel on earth.

All he’d ever had in the way of relationships was an admirer called Chandler when he was still in Ohio. Kurt had liked the compliments Chandler had showered him with, and had liked getting Chandler’s undivided attention. It was flattering, and it did wonders for his self-esteem. See? Someone thought he was worth talking to! Someone appreciated his fashion sense!

That was why he’d agreed to go on a date with Chandler, and after that a second one. They’d gone to the cinema together, and then shopping at the mall another time. And Kurt was pretty sure that Chandler expected more to come of it, looking at Kurt with hope in his eyes at the end of each date. But Kurt couldn’t bring himself to kiss Chandler. Not when he didn’t feel anything for him other than gratitude and kinship.

So their relationship petered out before it could even begin, and Kurt couldn’t say he regretted it. But he’d very much hoped that his dating prospects would improve upon moving to New York City, and that hadn’t been the case.

Yes, the leader of the Adam’s Apples show choir had recruited him with a serenade, but he’d made no move beyond that, and Kurt hadn’t dared ask him out.

And when he’d started his Madonna cover band, he’d developed a crush on Elliott – could you blame him? – and admitted to it one night after a gig, half-drunk and giggly, only to be told that he was about five years too late to make his move. That was how long Elliott had been dating his boyfriend, and when he brought Mark along to rehearsal the next time, they proved to be ridiculously happy and in love. So no luck there, either.

It wasn’t his looks, he knew that much. In his stage combat lessons, he could see other students check out his body, which had filled out nicely. But none of them ever came on to him, and anyway, Kurt wasn’t sure he’d be interested in just a hook-up.

Still, it wasn’t fun to be the only one of his friends who’d never even been kissed. Other than by a girl or a bully, but that didn’t count. It didn’t, okay?

When Kurt tuned back into the conversation, he heard that they were talking about a tweet Tina had found on her Twitter feed that encouraged people getting married to send an invitation to all billionaires they could find the address of. If you got lucky, those billionaires’ secretaries would think you were a friend or relative of their boss and would send you a gift.

“Wouldn’t it be great if one of us got married so we could get some decent stuff for the loft?” Santana asked. "We barely have anything, and we could ask for all of it! A blender. A coffee machine. A panini maker. And, you know, bedding. Sleeping on the sofa would feel a lot better if I had a decent pillow and comforter. And bath towels. Big and thick ones."

“Oh yes,” Kurt chimed in. “A wok, a food processor, a real Le Creuset pan. Good knives. Matching sets of plates and cutlery. It doesn’t have to be fancy, but just more. Now we have to wash up after every meal because we only have six of everything.”

“A vacuum cleaner that actually works,” Rachel sighed. “It was nice of Carole to give us her old one, but let’s face it, its best days are over. Oh, and what about a quality throw blanket to hang over the sofa, to hide the stains?”

Kurt nodded. “I also want a full-length mirror for the bathroom, and a nicer hamper for the dirty laundry. The kind that doubles as a bench.”

Rachel put her chin in her hands and stared dreamily into space. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

“It would,” Santana and Kurt agreed.

“Too bad none of us are getting married anytime soon,” Kurt mused.

“Well, I’m not seeing anyone, and neither are you,” Rachel said, “so technically, we could get fake hitched, but I don’t think anyone would buy you and I getting married. The wedding would be fabulous, of course, but obviously fake.”

Kurt suppressed a shudder, and Santana threw her head back and laughed.

Rachel pressed on, “But Santana could totally get married. What about it, Santana? At least you and Brittany are dating.”

The proposition shut Santana up at once. She stared at Rachel with her mouth wide open.

“I’d like to be married to you,” Brittany piped up, smiling softly and kissing Santana on the nose. “And I’m sure Kurt would help us plan the wedding, wouldn’t you, Kurt?”

Kurt grinned at her. “You know it!”

“And I know just what the invitation should look like!”

Brittany took a piece of crayon from behind her ear and started sketching a tree with hearts instead of leaves.

“That’s beautiful, honey,” Santana murmured, and Brittany beamed at her. “So we’re doing this?”

Santana nodded, and claimed Brittany’s lips for a lingering kiss.

“Okay, okay, that’s as much foreplay as I can stomach,” Kurt said. “Let’s get back to the loft. You can have my bed tonight if you promise not to be loud and not to get the bed linens dirty. Use a towel.”

Brittany kissed Kurt on the cheek. “Thank you, Kurtie!”

When they reached the loft, though, Brittany made no move to join Santana in Kurt’s bedroom. Instead, she badgered Kurt into opening Photoshop on his laptop so she could recreate the love tree in digital format. She added a recent picture of her and Santana, and looked up examples of wedding invitations on the internet to see what information should be on the card.

Before Kurt knew it, Brittany had commandeered all of his expensive ivory drawing paper to print the invitations on, and she set Rachel to work Googling names and addresses of billionaires.

Soon, Kurt was calligraphing these addresses onto hot pink and deep purple envelopes from Rachel’s stationary set, while Brittany was setting up an online wedding registry.

When that was done, she used up all of Rachel’s stamps to frank the invitations, and then ran out to go post them.

Rachel and Santana were already fast asleep by the time Brittany came back, and Kurt had almost drifted off when he heard a cheery, “There, all done!”

He chuckled at Brittany’s enthusiasm, closed his eyes and was out like a light.

The next day, they all woke up with hangovers and no recollection of their wacky wedding scheme nor the fake invitations Brittany had sent.

On Monday evening, though, Santana blanched and gasped when she checked her e-mails during dinner. “Dios mio!”

“What is it?” asked Rachel, spearing three green beans onto her fork.

“Brittany! She actually sent out wedding invites! And somebody has accepted the invitation. Who goes to a wedding of people they don’t know at all? And what on earth are we gonna do?”

“Wait, what? Who is this person?”

Rachel looked over Santana’s shoulder at the screen. “Cooper Anderson… Oh yeah, that’s the guy from those FreeCreditRating.com commercials, you remember? We all had that jingle as our ringtone for a while.”

“You mean YOU did,” Santana muttered, rolling his eyes.

Kurt wisely didn’t mention he’d had that ringtone, too.

Oh, he remembered the FreeCreditRating guy only too well. He even had a signed poster of him somewhere, that dated back to a talent show at the Westerville mall. Cooper Anderson had been one of the judges of the show, and Kurt had taken part just to get to see him in the flesh. Kurt had been the runner-up of the competition, after Rachel, and had gotten to shake Mr. Anderson’s hand and stammer about how much he admired him. And Mr. Anderson had been so gracious about it all, giving Kurt a 1,000 Watt smile and asking him if he’d like an autograph. So Kurt had whipped out his latest edition of Vogue and had Mr. Anderson sign a perfume ad he starred in.

Kurt smiled at the recollection, and nodded along when Rachel continued to gush about Mr. Anderson.

“He’s ever so handsome. And ever so rich. He’s a Westerville Anderson, so he comes from old money, and then he started this advertising company that everyone uses nowadays, so now he’s a billionaire ten times over.”

“Nice!” said Santana. “So whatever he buys us as a present, it’ll be worth it. But how are we going to pull this off in… What?! Less than a week! Britt put this Saturday as the wedding date!”

“WHAT?!!” Kurt and Rachel shrieked in unison.

Santana waved at the screen. “See for yourself. This Saturday, at 6.30 p.m., in our loft.”

Kurt shook his head in disbelief. “Five days! Neither of you have wedding dresses, we don’t have an officiant, we don’t have a wedding cake nor any other party food, we don’t have any flowers or decorations fit for a wedding. This is a disaster!”

“But you CAN do it, right?”

Santana’s hand clamped around Kurt’s arm like a vice, and she looked up at him beseechingly. “Please help us out? You organized Burt and Carole’s wedding in a week too, right?”

“Two weeks,” Kurt corrected absent-mindedly, his brain already working overtime. “I suppose I could manage it. But you’d owe me. Big time. I want at least half of the wedding present haul.”

“Done.”

Rachel clapped her hands and cheered. “Can we look at what people have bought you already?”

Santana clicked through to the wedding registry, and her face went slack with horror.

“What?” Kurt asked.

“Britt only put cat stuff on the list,” Santana groaned as she scrolled through the list. “Nothing but cat stuff.”

“She did what?” Rachel screeched.

Kurt didn’t say a word. He took over the mouse and checked what had been bought already. So far, Cooper Anderson was the only one who had chosen something. He had put his name down for a pet pavilion that was worth a cool 25 grand. 25 grand! For something so ridiculous! You could fit out an entire kitchen with that amount of money! What a waste!!

“Ugh, as much as I love Britt, I kind of hate her right now,” he murmured, and he heard Santana and Rachel hum in assent.

Kurt clicked on “Edit your wedding registry” and started to delete all of Brittany’s choices, one by one, muttering curses under his breath when he arrived at the costly pet pavilion that he couldn’t delete because it had already been bought.

“Now, before anyone else buys something we don’t want or need, let’s add all the stuff that we DO want,” he said, and between the three of them, they compiled a decent list.

When he’d clicked on “Save changes”, Kurt let out a deep breath. “Well, looks like I’ve got some wedding planning to do. This had better be worth it, San!”

Santana was still too shaken up to snark back. She just looked at Kurt like a deer caught in the headlights. “Can we do this?”

Kurt nodded. “We can do this. Calling Isabelle straight away!”

Isabelle, when she heard the story, laughed for five minutes straight, but then promised all the help she could offer. “Bring the brides along tomorrow, I’ll find them dresses and shoes, no problem. And you can use whatever decorations we have lying around here. What else do you need?”

“Rings for the brides. Dresses for two bridesmaids, I’ll bring them too. A three-piece suit for both me and the officiant,” Kurt started listing. “The others are on their own and will have to dig up whatever formal wear they’ve got lying around. Then, what else, let me think… Chairs for the ceremony. The weather will be nice on Saturday, thankfully, so we’ll have the ceremony and the reception on the roof of our building. There’s a railing all around, so it’s safe, and I’ve already made a cosy corner there that we sit in when the loft gets too hot. Very sturdy and well-made trelliswork. I will just have to decorate it.”

Isabelle hummed. “White roses. We’ve got tons of fake ones from the May issue, remember? You’re welcome to them, but make sure we get them back afterwards.”

“Will do,” Kurt promised. “The guests will have to go through our loft to get to the roof, though. You can only get there using the fire escape. So we will need a cover for our sofa. It’s in a terrible state. Stains all over. Ugh, we’ll have to start by cleaning the whole loft top to bottom. Girls, you WILL help!!”

Rachel and Santana murmured their agreement, and Santana went to look for cleaning supplies, while Rachel started to tackle the piled-up dishes in the sink.

“Oh, and could I borrow a few of those high tables people can stand around to eat finger food? We’ve got no room for a sit-down dinner.”

“Reception tables,” Isabelle said. “Yep, we have about twenty of them, and you’re not going to need that many, are you?”

“Nope. Five or six will do. Plus decent tablecloths for those tables, so that they don’t look cheap. I’d also like twinkle lights. As many as you can spare. And some sheer fabric or tulle I can wrap them in before I drape them all over the terrace.”

“Right, I’ll find you some,” Isabelle promised. “Do you need vases for flowers?”

Kurt hummed, thinking hard. “Nope, I’ll repurpose some empty wine bottles. Dipped in silver glitter, they’ll look fab. I’ll hang some on the railing and I’ll put the others on the reception tables. And some in the loft as well. And maybe some twinkle lights there, too. If you have some other decoration ideas, please let me know. Oh, and wedding favors! What do I do for wedding favors? For my dad and stepmom, I put a wheelbarrow with seed packets in the garden, with a sign that said, ‘Take one and watch love grow’. But that only works for a garden wedding.”

Isabelle hummed. “Let me think about it and get back to you. What are you going to do about the food?”

“Make it myself. Thank heavens we have a big fridge and freezer. We’re going to need every inch of space.”

Isabelle tutted. “Don’t overdo it, Kurt. You don’t want to fall asleep halfway through the wedding because you’ve been working day and night to make this perfect.”

“I’ll make everyone help.”

The steel in Kurt’s voice made Rachel and Santana look up from their work in alarm, but they didn’t protest. They knew all too well it was futile.

The rest of the week passed in a frenzy of cleaning, cooking, baking, decorating as well as inviting and briefing their other friends.

Elliott agreed to act as the officiant for the wedding, Artie offered his services as a DJ and Tina volunteered to be the photographer. Mercedes and Artie rehearsed the song for the first dance while the brides worked on the dance itself. Sam made himself invaluable running errands and assisting Kurt from dusk till dawn, and didn’t give a peep in protest when Kurt sat him down for a haircut.

By Saturday afternoon, the loft and the terrace both looked splendid. The twinkle lights wrapped in tulle gave the loft ceiling and the terrace a dreamy but festive air, and the silver bottles holding colorful flowers added to the splendor without making it tacky.

Kurt was hard at work decorating the top tier of the wedding cake while Elliott rehearsed the ceremony with San and Britt, Rachel prompting them whenever they faltered.

When the cake was safely stowed away in the fridge, Kurt checked the wedding registry one last time. It seemed like all his work had served some purpose after all. Their scheme had worked out pretty well. Brittany and Santana had received a gift from no less than eighteen billionaires, some of it pricey stuff. The Louis XV pet pavilion was a sad waste of money, of course, but Kurt was pleased with the other gifts, and was mentally already picking his favorites.

Humming happily, he helped zip up dresses and arrange the brides’ and bridesmaids’ hair, and then went to his bedroom to put his suit on and check on his coif.

When he headed back to the living room, he noticed that all their friends had arrived, and grimaced at all the noise they produced. He hadn’t slept properly in days, and he felt a headache coming on, throbbing at his temples.

Artie was testing the music installation, and soon all of the former Glee clubbers were singing and laughing and dancing. Kurt slunk away to the kitchen and put his head against the cool metal of the fridge to soothe the pain.

He’d almost dozed off when a loud voice rang through the loft. Mr. Anderson! He’d arrived!

#bbb2020 #blaine big bang 2020 #klaine fanfiction #my fic #out of the blue

[joyful-soul-collector]

About Me

I was tagged by @theswordofpens! I started a new post for this cuz the other one was getting hella long with reblogs lol. Anyway, let’s get on to the questions!

How tall are you?

5′7 or 170.18cm

What color and style is your hair?

That is a debated topic actually. My hair is dyed bright blue, but the natural parts of it people can never decide if it’s black or dark brown. In the summer sun, it’s dark brown, but it’s not always summer and I’m inside 90% of the time, so it looks black very often. So really depends on the lighting of the situation. Though people tend to focus more on the fact that my hair is blue rather than what color the natural parts are lol. My hair is a pretty basic short haircut, short on the sides, little longer on top, a bit of bangs that get in my eyes sometimes. 

What color are your eyes?

Again, debated topic, and for the same reason as my hair. Sometimes dark brown, sometimes black, depends on the light. 

Do you wear glasses?

Yep! They’re red on the inside and black on the outside. 

Do you wear braces?

Yeah, my family was finally able to get me braces a while ago! I guess most kids get them when they’re younger, before their teeth have the chance to get worse, and they only have to have them on for a year or so? But we were only able to get them when I entered sophomore year of high school, so I have to have them for three years since my teeth had gotten so bad. They’re a lot better now, and hopefully I’ll be able to get them off before I go to community college 😅

What’s your fashion sense?

Does fandom nerd count as a category of fashion? I wear a lot of shirts with references to tv shows. All of my shirts have some sort of graphic on it, and I also have a couple zip-up hoodies that are tv show references. I also wear bright red sneakers every day, big bright red headphones that I wear every day, and a wallet chain that I wear every day. So all of that, combined with bright blue hair, seems to make for a... noticeable person haha. 

What is your full name?

Marko Polo

(Nice try, I’m not saying personal stuff on here haha)

Where were you born?

Not gonna say exactly where, but in the more southern part of California. 

Where are you from and where do you live now?

Alright, so technically I’m from a few different places. I was born in southern CA and lived there til I was 8, then we moved to super north-western WA where I lived until I was almost 13, and then we moved to central PA, where we celebrated my 13th birthday like a week after arriving. I’ve lived here in PA ever since, so that’s five years here in a couple months. 

What school do you go to?

A High School

What kind of student are you?

I’m an alright student? I struggle with school, especially with all the moving I’ve had to do. Different schools have different expectations and vary in a lot of ways. I also have ADHD (more inattentive, less hyperactive) and Anxiety, which has not exactly been a help haha. I’ve always needed tutors and extensions and my 504 Plan, but if I have those I can often get good grades!

Do you like school?

School is meh. It’s stressful and exhausting, which is frustrating because I have other stuff I want do outside school, but I can’t do half of it because I have hw and chores and any other random things that need to get done. But my school is very high quality compared to most public schools! We have so many resources and amazing classes, and I love attending there, but unfortunately the people are not my favorite. Most of them are rich kids who have never attended anything other than really fancy schools, so they often take what they have for granted. I’ve heard kids say “our school is trash” while sitting in our Forensic Science class, in front of a school issued computer that we get to take home every day. It bothers me to NO END how some of these people act, but oh well. 

Favorite subject?

English! English has always been my favorite subject, I love stories. 

Favorite TV shows?

Ohhhhhhh man here we go (in no particular order): Firefly, Dollhouse, Buffy: The Vampire Slayer, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Demon Slayer, Legend of Korra, My Hero Academia, Sense8, Sherlock, Death Note, Lovesick, One Punch Man, Series of Unfortunate Events, The Good Place, Galavant, Parks and Rec, The Office, iZombie, Kill la Kill, Community, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, The Umbrella Academy, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Naruto, Batman The Animated Series, Travelers, Sex Education, Cells at Work, Death Parade, The Promised Neverland, RWBY

Tbh there might be more but those are the ones I could find haha. If you haven’t seen these, watch em, pretend this is a rec list, and then come and yell at me about how good they are. 

Favorite movies?

Again, here we go (in no particular order): The Iron Giant, 10 Cloverfield Lane, Cabin in the Woods, any and all MCU movies (but especially Spider-Man), Into The Spider-Verse, Scott Pilgrim vs The World, anything Bo Burnham, anything John Mulaney, James Acaster: Repertoire, The Prestige, The Usual Suspects, Planet of the Apes, Lars and the Real Girl, Her, Newsies, Baby Driver, Serenity, Liar Liar, Crazy Stupid Love, Bandersnatch, ARQ, Cloverfield, A Silent Voice, Klaus, How To Train Your Dragon, Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog

There are definitely more, I just couldn’t think of them haha. Again, watch these, and then come and freak out with me about how they’re amazing. 

Favorite books?

Let’s do this one last time (in no particular order, of course): Ready Player One, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Harry Potter, the Gone series, Saga, Sweet Tooth, Chew, Nimona, The Tea Dragon Society, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Lumberjanes, Invincible, Runaways, Calvin and Hobbes, Prince and the Dressmaker, Here, Plutona, Sculptor, Invincible, The Sword, Ultimate Spider-Man, Holes, Saving CeeCee Honeycutt, The Giver

There are definitely, 100% more books that I haven’t listed, again, I can’t think of them rn. Also, if you don’t recognize half of these titles, you probably don’t read comics/graphic novels. You should be reading those. Read them and then come and rant about how good they are so I get to tell you I told you so. 

Favorite past time?

Writing! Watching tv! Reading! Spacing out so much people have to say my name ten times before I come hurtling back to earth! Talking to friends!

Do you have any regrets?

Yeah, I wish I’d stood up for myself when I was younger. I was bullied for a really long time, and even though it’s been a couple years since the last I was bullied, it’s still really hard for me to tell people what I want and and don’t want. I think I’m a little better than I used to be though, which is good!

What’s your dream job?

Author definitely, but I doubt I’ll be able to do that for a real job. Tbh I just want a job that I can do in my sleep. Repetitive, pays well, not too exhausting, that way I have energy and time to do my writing and all the things I want to do at home. 

Would you like to be married?

I think so. I want to have a person I can live my life with, who I want to care for and who wants to care for me. If I’m not married I’d like an S.O. or even just a really good friend to live with. I think I’d get sad living by myself haha. 

Do you want kids?

I want to be a foster parent! I’ve loved helping people my whole life, and I think this is one of the best ways that I can help someone going through a rough time. I don’t want biological kids though tbh, not really for any one reason, just for a bunch of little ones. 

How many?

Dunno man. I wanna help as many kids as I can. 

Do you like shopping?

I do! However I don’t do it often because I have no money. I do like walking around stores and looking a cool stuff though, especially nerdy stores like Hot Topic or Boxed Lunch or any book/comic shop. 

What countries have you visited?

Canada, usually to visit family, once to see Niagara Falls! Never been anywhere else though, but I have a whole list of places I wanna see

Scariest nightmare you’ve ever had?

TW: SELF HARM/DEATH

Oof, see my dreams are always nightmares, and my nightmares are always hella terrifying. Often they’re of my worst fears: family telling me they hate me, finding the body of someone in my family, old bullies coming back, but in my worst one I found my little sister cutting herself in an old warehouse. I don’t actually remember much of what happened after I woke up, it was so bad I disassociated for the whole day. But luckily, I don’t dream often. 

Do you have any enemies?

No? Maybe? I have people I hate, my old bullies mainly, but I’m not around them anymore so it’s not like I spend time hating them. 

Do you have any self doubts?

Yeah I have this hilariously fun thing where I think everyone is just pretending to like me because they can’t pick up the courage to stop hanging out with me. Or that if I talk about what’s making me sad/stressed out then I’m being a burden on other people or being dramatic. Slowly working over that but it’s still hard. 

Do you have any significant others?

Nope

Do you believe in miracles?

Depends. I don’t believe in fate or the idea that something higher up is pulling strings. But I think crazy cool stuff can happen. But that’s just luck and coincidence. For me, miracles are the positive ends of luck and coincidence. 

How are you?

Meeeeehhhhh. School sucks, my sisters stress me out, and my parents are breathing down my neck about fifty different things. But I have a couple good friends and my writing and good stories to read and watch, so it’s not all bad :]

Tag ten tumblrs (tag last ten people in my notifications): @tracle0 @humblesavant @holystudenthologramy @federluftmask @phahbiyah @topazastral @dragon-s-bane @cassius-mortemer @saiko-tsuki @writing-another-star

#tag game #about me

[thecorteztwins]

razzle-dazzle-13 replied to your post “What characters would YOU have liked to see in X-Men Evolution? Send...”

Have you done Fabian Cortez, because I WANT EVO VERSE FABIAN CORTEZ. If yes how about Catseye?

Both coming right up! Under a cut for length because I have LOTS OF IDEAS!!

CATSEYE So I have a concept for the Evo version of the Hellions HERE but if we wanted to just do Catseye and not the whole Hellions team, I have another idea too! There start being reports of a big cat on the loose in a major city, assumed to be an escaped zoo animal or illegal pet. The X-Men are aware of it, but don’t consider it to have anything to do with them, until a photo of emerges of the beast transforming into a werecat-type form. Obviously this is mutant business now, so they fly out and go on a hunt for the creature, to find her before human authorities do! They succeed and, of course, it’s indeed a mutant, it’s Catseye! Rather than being unable to speak when they find her, I’d say she already has her sing-song broken syntax speech, suggesting she was abandoned as a child rather than a baby and thus retained language, she just hasn’t used it in a LONG time because she stayed in feline form most of her life, til said form got too big to be taken for a normal cat anymore. Rahne is obviously her bestie, they’re FREQUENTLY seen together, and Rahne really enjoys having someone she can run around in animal form with (Evo Rahne doesn’t seem to have the same issues/upbringing as 616, though she also didn’t get much spotlight in Evo either so I think we can hint at some slightly similiar stuff) They definitely get into LOADS of trouble, and there should absolutely be whole episodes dedicated to that! But another character she ends up being close to is X-23, who is a New Mutant by that time (and still going only by that name) A lot of people call X-23 “feral” but like...she’s not? Her entire existence is defined by captivity. She doesn’t act like a wild animal at all, not really, she acts like an ABUSED animal. Catseye, by contrast, is the truly free one. Everyone else wants to teach X-23 to be a person, which is definitely super important, but only Catseye shows her how to be an animal, beholden to nothing but her own natural desires and instincts. And Catseye isn’t doing this DELIBERATELY, it’s just her being herself. She also doesn’t look at X-23 as different from any other human, because she has no frame of reference for what a “normal” human is anyway, and that ends up meaning a lot to X-23 even if Catseye never knows it. Catseye also never calls her X-23. Catseye doesn’t call ANYONE by their actual name. She may call them by their codenames, but mostly she gives them nicknames based on their traits. She says this is because human names like Kurt or Sam don’t tell you anything about who that person is, but some codenames do (and some don’t, like Shadowcat, she’s not a cat, Catseye is a cat!) And...that gets X-23 thinking...she doesn’t want to be X-23 forever. She’s actually wanted to be called something else for a LONG time now, but she could never think of what. Because she doesn’t have an identity besides a weapon. But...maybe a new codename could be a good start? That’s how she starts going by Talon. She won’t start going by Laura until she meets Gabby. Catseye really frustrates and flusters Scott, as he really just has no idea how to deal with her? Deliberate troublemakers or the other kids being stupid are one thing, he’s mastered that, but Catseye just this entirely NEW thing. Jean is a bit more patient with her, but she can probably afford to be thanks to her powers letting her deal with Sharon easier (telekinetically stopping her, telepathically showing her something that she can’t verbally understand, etc) She also scares and upsets Amara, who is supposedly the “princess” of the bunch according to source material, and Amara’s reactions just make her keep going. She also has made it a game to try and catch Kurt (especially his tail, it moves around and she HAS to catch it!) because his powers make it such a challenge. She LOVES pouncing Multiple because of how he splits into duplicates when she does. A lot of people get fed up with her, and for good reason. Rahne will gently try to correct her in private, but in front of others, she ALWAYS defends Catseye----she didn’t hurt anyone, she doesn’t understand, etc. It’s expected by everyone that Beast will be her favorite teacher, that they’ll relate, etc., but in fact Beast shies away from her. It turns out that she reminds him of his own “beastliness” too much, his fear of becoming an animal on the INSIDE as well as in appearance, and it makes him uncomfortable to be around her, and then THAT makes him feel guilty because she’s just a child and he should be helping her. He gets this whole arc of coming to terms with this, with his fears, and then trying to connect with her...only for her to be totally disinterested in having him for a mentor, because their interests are totally different. Much like how Hellions!Catseye didn’t understand that the New Mutants were her enemies, Evo!Catseye doesn’t understand that the Brotherhood are the bad guys either. I can see her developing friendships with all them except Pietro. I think Wanda and Lance end up letting their walls down with her because she’s more like an animal than a person, so they don’t feel uncomfortably vulnerable being nice with her like they would with most people. With Blob, she’s not put off by his simple nature or intimidating size or his lack of social skills, since, as with X-23, she doesn’t know that these things aren’t “normal” or have any frame of reference to judge him by. And though she’s VERY intelligent, she’s also pretty simple too. And with Toad, again, she can’t judge that he’s “weird” and I don’t think his odor puts her off like it does other people. Cats are very clean creatures, of course, but their standards of what smells good and bad are different than humans. Like cats LOVE stinky socks! Pietro I think though would just not have any patience with her and not see any use in being pals with her. There has definitely been an AWKWARD AS HELL moment where she, in full human form, jumped into Prof X’s lap in front of guests/visiting parents. FABIAN Okay so LOTS of versions/ideas here! When I first made this blog, my idea for Evo Fabian was just...Duncan Matthews as a mutant. If you don’t remember who that is, he’s the jerkass blond football jock that Jean dates for a few seasons. He’d be a cocky, athletic asshole who hits on all the girls and is unbearable to EVERYONE. Total bully, total creep, gets recruited into the Brotherhood as a baby budding mutant supremacist with his sister, everything you’d expect. Then I actually started writing him and...it went differently than that? He ended up not being so much a Jerk Jock cliche as just a...pretty NORMAL guy? He’s simultaneously a little full of himself and a little unsure at the same time, in the typical fashion of teen boys, and he gets more unsure as he begins meeting other mutants and realizing how outclassed his powers are, which prompts him to try to be competitive with them, especially the other boys, which makes him come off as kind of an ass, especially when butting heads with guys who are already kind of prickly, like Lance. But he’s also like...he’s not CRUEL either, he can be nice and friendly and nervous too, and he actually actively looks out for Anne Marie. He’ll call her stupid and stuff, but he’s always got her back, and he sticks up for her when someone else calls her the same stuff or upsets her. He’s like...not so much “Fabian but a teen” as he is “Fabian BEFORE he actually became Fabian”? So less over-the-top delightfully fun asshole, but also more well-rounded and human. I also started thinking...would he be Brotherhood? Because a common factor of all the Bhood kids is that they seem to come from lower-class backgrounds and broken homes. Pietro and Wanda were abused and abandoned by their shit dad, Lance was in foster care when Mystique found him, Fred was in a truck show with no parents/guardians in sight and doesn’t seem to have ever attended school before, and Toad...we don’t really know, but I think it’s safe to say that any adults in his life either aren’t there or don’t care that he’s living in this shitty boarding house with no adult supervision half the time. Whereas I see the Evo Cortez twins as coming from a nice middle class suburban nuclear family, with good parents and a good support system and all. And I think that would make them harder for Mystique to exploit. She seems to prey primarily on kids with nowhere else to go, who no one else cares about. So maybe Fabian and Anne Marie might very well end up with the New Mutants/X-Men, which could be a lot of fun too! Just because teen Fabian is a human being and not GIANT IRREDEEMABLE ASSHOLE 616 FABIAN doesn’t mean he still can’t act cocky during training and get his ass handed to him, or try to flirt with every girl in his class (I think he’d like Amara best, she seems most his type, which makes me want to see Tabitha either try to keep him away from her or try to push Amara to “go have fun with the new hunk!” though tbh I ship Tabby/Amara SOOOO) But the difference is we could get DEVELOPMENT with that! Like maybe the reason he’s such a cocky asshole in training is that he’s embarrassed about his benign/passive/”useless” powers not being suited to combat, and feeling emasculated by it compared to the other guys. And the obnoxious hitting on the girls coming from not actually knowing how to talk to them normally, because the only girl he knows is Anne Marie, who is definitely not a mode for normalcy, and who only responds to/understands TOTALLY BLUNT BLUNTNESS Anne Marie should also get EVO’S FIRST SAME-SEX ROMANCE! So like...I feel like we could totally get a cute, human Fabian while still keeping his funny traits? And he’s A TOTAL JERK to the Brotherhood BIG TIME of course, like he considers them TOTAL TRASH, so there’s definitely still some “bully” there too! BUT WAIT! THERE’S MORE! So, obviously the allure of Evo is it’s a canon high school au, we get all our faves as teens. But, some are still adults! Beast, Storm, Pro f X, Mystique, Magneto...what if Fabian was one of those? So, we see that in the future, Magneto himself will change sides and become a teacher to the New Mutants. That’s going to leave a big power vacuum, both in the universe and in the plot. So who steps up to fill it but...FABIAN CORTEZ? Which follows comics canon of him trying to usurp Magneto’s place as the leader of the radical mutant supremacy movement, just in this version he (probably?) didn’t try to murder him to do it, he just picked up where Magneto left behind, and uses the anger of Magneto’s former followers at Magneto “abandoning” them to his advantage. He basically gets to be the new Big Bad on the “evil mutants” side (and unlike the Brotherhood, he and his Acolytes will live up to the term!) and be the evil, over-the-top, over-dramatic Fabian Cortez we all know and...er, kinda love? And he can still be creepy too, just he only hits on the adults like Storm (and maybe Jean, who might be in college at that point) and probably his own lieutenants, as he’s doubtlessly recruited some new Acolytes. He’ll be 2D, sure, but Evo Magneto was a pretty irredeemable bastard too most of the time. Also, remember how the Brotherhood is shown to join up with SHIELD as adults? I wrote a fic last year in which FABIAN WAS ON THEIR TEAM

#razzle-dazzle-13 #evo versions #catseye #fabian cortez #evo fabian

[nothing-but-kpop-dreams]

Just Friends (2/?)

Author’s note: So yeah... I got around to doing the second part... Keep in mind that from this point on, the plot no longer sticks to the original request.

Word Count: 2851

Summary: Let’s just go ahead and see who found you in the alley.

ALL PARTS

“Y/n?” the voice called out “Y/f/n Y/l/n?”

You were caught off guard.

 “Huh?!” 

As any normal person would, you looked toward the direction of the person calling out your name. However, instead of wiping your face and calming your voice like an actual normal person would, you locked eyes with that individual with your face a slobbering mess.

As if the night wasn't horrible enough, it had now become a living nightmare. You never thought you would see his stupid face, but there he was. “Y-yoongi?”

That’s right, it was the only and only Min Yoongi. You weren’t the type to dislike people, but he was one you could say you practically hated. The thing was, that asshole, now standing three feet away, was that same asshole that brought you and Tae together all those years ago. Oh but things didn’t stop at making fun of you for your choice of fashion, heck no. He made fun of you for 3 years! Considering that he was two years older than you, his torment should have only lasted 2 years, but the guy was stupid as fuck and he got held back a year. That was an extra year of dealing with him calling you names, tripping you in the hall, and one time even knocking down your lunch tray in front of everyone in the cafeteria. Not to mentioned the times where you had him for elective classes, like art, where he made it a goal to sit behind you and poke you with sharp pencils in the middle of tests, yank your hair, and “accidentally” kick your butt when trying to rest his feet on the back of your chair.

Easy to say, he made high school suck more than it already did. When he graduated you were beyond relieved. You even forgot all about him. The only thing you heard about him since high school was that he was in a study abroad program and was in Europe or England or something like that. So what was he suddenly doing in this downtown alley of all places? Why was he now, as some knight in shining armor, running up to you?

“Oh shit! It’s actually you! What happened?!? Why are you crying? Are you okay?” He asked in a panic.

It was like you were in the twilight zone. Your high school bully was all over you, not picking on you, but instead looking out for your well being.

What you were expecting to hear was “Haha stupid y/n is crying!” “Why are you wearing a dress? Boys don't wear dresses!” or even “Oh are you finally a girl again?” But instead, he knelt in front of you, grabbing your arms and checking for wounds and asking “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Even after all these years, his touch was repulsive and after the night you had you didn't even want to feel someone’s gaze on you, let alone have this stupid orange haired prick in your face.

“Let me go!” You cried, pushing his hands away… pushing him hard enough that he fell back on his butt into a puddle of mud made by the leaky dumpster.

“What the fuck! I’m trying to help you!” He shouted

“Just leave me alone!” you cried

That’s when you jumped up and ran out of the alley. You needed to get back home and hide away forever.

---------

It had been two days since the shit show that was “date” night. You have basically locked yourself inside your apartment the last 48 hours.  You weren't trying to be dramatic or anything, you just needed some space. The last thing you wanted to do was put on a fake smile and pretend to everyone around you that everything was okay or put in extra effort in paying attention in class because your mind wouldn’t stop replaying your fight with Tae.

Another reason (the real reason) you kept yourself locked away was to avoid Tae all together. At the beginning of the semester the two of you had made your schedules around each other, making sure you had lunch at the same time and would walk in the same direction at least once to have a quick catch up before class, you know, like the cute best friends you used to be. The last thing you wanted was to bump into him on campus. It was already hard enough trying to ignore his calls and apology texts.

Sure it sounds extreme, but you were sticking to your guns about avoiding Tae like the plague. You didn’t want to risk forgiving him because of your lingering feelings. You didn’t want to be friends with him anymore. Yes, you could look past him not having feelings for you, but what you couldn’t get over was him betraying you the way he did. The two of you had been friends for years, it hurt that he lied to you, that he ditched you for someone else. Speaking of, he ditched you for some random girl. Tae used to ALWAYS tell you about his crushes and the girls he went on dates with, but you caught him with someone you knew nothing about. What best friend holds back on something like that?

But anyway, your time in hiding was about to come to an end. You were out of food. Every time you opened your fridge, your lonely gallon of milk stared back at you and your empty cabinets laughed in your face. It was time to join the real world once more and get some groceries like a grown adult. Plus, you had a life to get back to. You had school and a job hunt to throw yourself into. You couldn’t let Tae hold you back from living life.

After a long motivational talk to yourself in the mirror, you got dressed in a t-shirt jeans and your favorite converse and walked down to the grocery store.

All throughout the store you mentally repeated your list in order to get yourself to stuck to your small budget. “Juice, eggs, ham, chips, bread, lighter fluid (you know to burn your stupid dress from date night). Juice, eggs, ham, chips, bread, lighter fluid.”.

It didn't take long for you to get what you needed and by the end you realized you had a bit of extra money to splurge on some cereal. So here you were in the middle of the cereal aisle using your intelligent college educated mind to decide which type of cereal you wanted to get.

Sadly, things took a turn when you heard,“Well well well!”

It was that voice again. It sent a chill down your spine. Immediately you were frustrated.

“If it isn't little ole y/n. I see you are back in your regular clothes again.”

You turned to the source of the sounds that were his words and caught his eyes scanning you up and down.

“And if isn't stupid ole Yoongi.” You spat back. “Are you some kind of stalker now or what?”

It was too coincidental to see him in the alley (which you pretty much forgot about till now) but seeing him in the grocery store was all the more nauseating.

He furrowed his brows at you. “Excuse me? A stalker? No.” He said in his usual arrogant voice. “I'm more of a music producer these days.” a sly smirk appeared on his face as if he was so much better than you.

And this was the Yoongi you remembered... and still hated. 

You rolled your eyes at him. “As if I actually care”

“Ouch! Still a feisty one aren't you? I see a lot hasn't changed since high school.” Again his eyes scanned you “Same personality, same taste in clothes-”

“Oh please! You still dress the same too!” you shot back “and you still have horrible taste in hair dye.” You had to take a shot at the obnoxious orange hair

“Hey, I admit this current color isn't working with me, but I rock a mint green alright!”

“Oh I’d like to see that”

His smiled only widened “I bet you would. I always knew you had a thing for me!”

You practically gagged. “Ugh! I was being sarcastic. All that hair dye really has made you stupid. No wonder you flunked a grade”

“Woah woah woah just to make things clear, I only got held back cuz I didn't care about high school, but I'm not stupid. I'll have you know my college gpa is 3.7!”

“Speaking of college, aren’t you supposed to be in England or something, why are you here annoying me?”

“Oh so I'm not allowed to be in a grocery store to buy groceries?”

You stayed quiet. You didn't have a comeback

“But if you’re so curious” he continued in a suddenly normal tone, with sincerity much like in the alley a few nights ago. “I’m back cuz I already graduated. And like I said before, I am a producer.” It was weird having him talking to you like a normal person. “There is an old friend in town that wants to collab and do a rap track, so I'm back for that.”

“How exciting” you said very sarcastically “But would you look at the time” you looked down at your bare wrist as if you were wearing a watch. “Seems like I have to be everywhere else but here since I don't give a shit.” You said grabbing a random box of the shelf and making your leave.

“You owe me a pair of pants you know!” he called out

You turned around “Um, what?”

“Oh, you know, from when you pushed me into a puddle of mud after I found you crying in an alley.”

“So? That's not my fault.”

“Uh, it kinda is since you were the one that pushed me!”

“Well you were the one all over me, what else was I supposed to do!?”

“Um, tell me what was wrong, duh! Obviously you seem fine now. But what happened? Did you get mugged? Were you harassed? Was it something going to the cops over?” With every word his tone went from salty to serious. You couldn't tell if it was an act or not.

“That all seems like something that isn't your business, don't you think?”

He closed his mouth shut, realizing you had a point. “Ok,fine. You're right.” He voice fell into a sigh, a sign that he gave up. “... But you do owe me a new pair of jeans. The only other way I’ll forgive you is if you take me out to lunch.”

He hit you with a curve. “What? Why?”

He shrugged. “I’m hungry. Why else not?”

“Because being with in 3 feet of you makes me want to gag!” you said bluntly.

“Oh c'mon, but we can continue our wonderful little chat.” and he went right back to being a shit face

For what had to be the hundredth time, you rolled your eyes. “I would rather get hit by a car.” you said as you walked away.

From this point on you quickened your pace to the cashier line.

You stuck yourself in the line of people hoping to not bump into some other person you happened to know and not care for. In the next half hour, you were finally out the door. Why it took so long? You didn’t know. Why you could stop looping your interaction with Yoongi? You also didn’t know. How you ended up with a box of raisin bran instead of frosted flakes? That you knew.

You walked out the grocery store and toward the road in annoyance with the box in your hand. “Stupid Yoongi, distracted me!” you grumbled to yourself as you glared at the box. “He just has to keep-”

“Watch out!” you heard a shout

Suddenly your arm was grabbed and you were yanked back. It was like slow motion. Your heels scraped against the curb as the rest of your body went flying back. You let out a yelp, sounding like a small dog when you felt someone grab you before you fell to the ground.

And now everything was a blur. All you could hear was mad car honks and gasps from the people around you.

“Are you okay?!?” it just had to be Yoongi’s voice again

You looked up at him, a bit confused about how he had his arms wrapped around you. You look around, realizing you were on the curb of the highway, the crosswalk flashing the light to not cross.  

“...Why did you do that?!?” you pushed him away when you realized that you were still in his arms.

“Because you were about to get hit by a car!” He shouted back at you.

You stayed quiet, a bit too frazzled to get your thoughts together.

It was easy for him to see how distraught you were, and that’s when he decided o say. “Damn, i didn’t think you were that serious about the lunch thing.” he said with a chuckle.

“...Well I was.” you said in a last attempt to gather whatever dignity you had left.

You couldn't put up a badass facade around him anymore, not after him seeing you in a dress, seeing you sob, and technically saving your life.  You were shookth to the core, you had to run.

The second the light signaled you to walk, you bolted away from him without even a thank you.

Your steps became faster and faster as you got closer to your apartment building. You had to reach your safe haven as soon as you could. Again you just wanted to hide away from the eyes around you and go unnoticed for once this freaking week.

At your building, you rushed to the elevator and smacked your floor button until the doors closed shut. Alone in the floating room, you tried to catch your breath and just settle yourself a bit.

Finally when it dinged on your floor, you steadied your pace down the quiet halls. you felt calmer knowing that you were just a few feet away from closing yourself off from anymore human interaction.

But when you turned the corner, you had the urge to run in the opposite direction.

He stood there like he was a lot puppy. There was a slouch to his stance a frown on his face. He stared longingly at your door s you peeked at him from the end of the hall.

Tae stood at your door with heavy eyes.His arms lifted it self to knock on your door, but suddenly he stopped. He let out a sigh of defeat, his hi hand fell limp to his side.

You weren't sure what to make of the situation. On sight, you missed him… but you were also just so mad.  Half of you wanted to walk up to him and pull him into a hug while the other wanted to bite his head off.

“Y/n, you are an adult.” you reminded yourself. “He came here for a reason. The most rational thing is to hear him out. You don't have to forgive him. you don't even have to say anything back.”

With that little pep talk, you were ready to face him.

You took a few steps, your grocery bags, slapping against your legs. The sudden sounds caught his attention and that’s when he looked over at you.

In that split second, his eyes lit up. “Y/n!”

Just like that, your words to yourself went out the window. Who were you kidding? You were upset as fuck!  You’re feelings  were as raw as ever. It was like Sunday night all over again. you could already feel the stick in r eyes and the stabbing pain in your chest radiating throughout your whole body.

You couldn't do it.

As he walked towards you, you walked past him.

The hint of a smile on his face disappeared and that frown was back. “...Y/n?”

You ignored his existence, simply getting your keys out of your pocket.

The Silent treatment. You had put him through this a few times before. It was never a tactic that he accepted. Right now, like the few rare fights before, he spoke at you in hopes that his words could get you to forgive him again. “Y/n, I’m sorry! I honestly am!” he pleaded as he trailed behind you. “Can’t we just talk again?”

You said nothing, you didn't even look at him as you unlocked your door.

“Y/n, you are my best friend! I miss you! Please just talk to me.”

You weren't too sure why, but his words struck a nerve. Before You stepped inside, you looked at him. You did your best to put on the most serious expression you could. It was hard to not break down in tears.

He stared back at you with big sad eyes, that had just the smallest bit of hope only because you actually turned to him.

“No.” you said simply as you walked inside and closed the  door on him.

-Admin Boat

#bts #kpop scenarios #bts scenarios #kpop reactions #bts reactions #kpop texts #bts texts #v #taehyung #angst #fluff #suga #yoongi #v angst #kpop angst #kpop fanfic #fanfic #bts angst #rm #jhope #jin #jimin #jungkook #namjoon #hoseok #bangatn boys #beyond the scenes #bts fanfic #bangtan fanfic

[longliveninokuni]

Love Letters

Part of the EOA Ship Appreciation Week on Discord.

It's time for the Festival of Love: where Avalorans give letters to the people they love. But what happens when Naomi gets a letter from the anonymous person who usually gives her one asks her to meet in person? Will she meet them? Who could this secret admirer be?

Ff.net link if you prefer: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13207795/1/Love-Letters

A/N: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! Also, I'm sorry that I'm getting this story to you just now, yesterday's story was tough to write. So, I'm saying I just finished this story. Today's theme is "Valentine's Day," but I don't recall if the Ever Realm celebrated it. So I came up with another holiday to compensate. Enjoy! And hopefully, tomorrow's story will also be finished tomorrow.

Disclaimer: The following is a non-profit, fan-based, fanfiction. Elena of Avalor is owned by the Walt Disney Corporation and Craig Gerber. Lady Elma is my OC; thus she belongs to me. Please support the official release.

"Aww, did the loser not get any letters for the love festival? Boohoo. Hahaha!" Said one of the many bullies Naomi must deal with daily.

In Avalor there is currently a festival going on for the day: The Festival of Love. No, not the one associated with Dia de Los Muertos. This one, this is associated with showing love to those who have meaning to you, be they friend, family, or lover. And at the end of the day, there is always a ball where the people can gather and dance with the people they love and cherish.

But before that, every citizen gives letters to the people they love, be they platonic or romantic. It helps sets the mood for the ball.

Naomi, however, has never gotten any letters, except her friends and parents. She was always sad, especially during her first festival. No one from school gave her letters.

But then she got her first letter that wasn't from her friends or her parents. "You look better when you smile." It read, and in the bottom corner was a drawing of her smiling. No one signed it, and she didn't recognize the handwriting. It was her favorite letter. And when she showed it to everyone in the palace, they were all thrilled. Estéban however only came up with a snarky remark but kept it in his usual teasing tone.

Her second one, she got another letter from the same person. "Did you have to score the winning point in olaball? Now I have to be impressed." Then there was a drawing of her scoring the winning point in olaball. It was still her favorite. But while she did get a letter on her third one, this one complementing her book smarts with a drawing of her sleeping face down in a book, she got another letter from a guy in her school who wanted to dance with her at the ball. She was excited and said yes, making some of her female bullies jealous.

During the ball, the two danced and were having fun, but then the guy pulled her out of the ballroom to a random hallway and tried to push himself on her. He only wanted to bed her. Naomi didn't want it, she tried to push him off, but he had a knife. He cut her cheek a little, enough to draw blood, and warned her to stay still and let it happen. Before he could use his knife to cut her dress, his hand was stopped by another one, and it was squeezing the boy's hand painfully tight. When the two looked over, it was Estéban who had stopped the boy's hand. And he was giving the guy a death glare. "If you don't want to spend the rest of your life in the dungeon for assaulting a member of the Grand Council, then I suggest you stop what you're doing right now and leave." He said in a low, threatening voice — all while tightening his grip. The boy shakenly nods his head and was in tears.

Estéban scoffs and lets's go of the boy, letting him run off. He then turned to Naomi, who's been crying tears of fear. Estéban pulled out his handkerchief and carefully wiped her blood and tears off of her cheek. "Let's get this blood off you, get rid of the tears, then make your schoolmates jealous of your dancing." Naomi raised a brow. "You don't think I know what's been going on? When it comes to unnecessary pettiness, I think I take the crown." He smirked at Naomi's small giggle then holds out a hand. "Shall we?" And the two danced better than everyone from her school.

That was a good year, but now Naomi faces a new dilemma. "I want to meet you face to face tonight at the ball. Meet me at the fountain in the palace gardens at 6:00." Along with the info was a drawing of a rose in bloom. Naomi has no idea what to do. Should she meet him? Well, of course, he could be the love of her life. Or she. She's not one to judge.

"Ms. Turner, if you could so kind as to stop focusing on your letter, and start focusing on the task at hand, that would be splendid." Estéban just had to ruin her mental conversation, but he was right. Right now, they were discussing new ideas for tonight's ball.

"Hey, blame whoever left the letter here on my section of the table." Naomi found her letter here in the council room, along with everyone else.

Estéban growls but backs off and went back to discussing what ideas could be included in this year's Festival of Love.

Naomi tried to focus, but she couldn't. She kept thinking of who the author of these letters could be. Sure, there were only four, but she's already smitten with whoever wrote them. I wonder if they're anyone I know? She thought.

"MS. TURNER!" Ah, she's been caught daydreaming again.

"Naomi, we should get you a new dress for tonight's ball." Elena said out of the blue after the meeting. The only thing they could add to the ball this year was new food and a showcase of the letters given hanging from the ceiling.

Naomi raised a brow. "What? Why?"

Elena winked. "Because I want to see you in a new dress. You wear the same big purple dress to all the formal balls, and while it looks good, you can do better."

"But, you also-"

"No time to argue, I know of a new boutique that has gorgeous dresses. Let's go!" Elena said in a rush, leaving no room for Naomi to argue or refuse as she pushes her along.

When the two reached the shop, they were both amazed by the sight: dresses in different colors, body types, style, and most notably…

"No hoop skirts." Naomi stated. Yes, none of these dresses have the hooped skirts that most formal dresses usually have. All these dresses seem to fit the bodice from head to toe. "What is this?"

"The future of dress fashion." Said a voice. Then a woman came up from the back of the store. She has short dark green hair, glasses, blue eyes, wearing a plain orange apron, slippers, a long-sleeved yellow shirt, black pants, and is sucking a lollipop. She gives the women an intense stare. "Hoop skirts are out. Old fashioned. Dead. These dresses will make any man, or woman, crumble to their knees at the sheer beauty anyone would give off when wearing my designs."

Naomi was getting nervous. "Uh, Elena…?"

Elena however just pushed Naomi to stand in front of the woman. "Hi, I'm Elena, and my best friend Naomi needs a dress for the ball tonight!"

The woman looks over Naomi with a critical eye. "Hmm." She strikes her chin in thought. A few moments later, she snaps her fingers. "I got it." She grabs Naomi's wrist and pulls her. "Come! Fashion waits for no one!" And the two disappear to the back.

An hour later, the store owner came out with Naomi to show Elena the dress. "Well?"

Elena's eyes lit up, and she smiles big. "Oooh, Naomi, when your secret admirer sees you, they'll be fawning all over you!" She then turns to the store owner. "Thank you so much Lady Elma."

Lady Elma pushed her glasses. "Of course, I do my best." She then gets angry. "To rid this world of THE DREADED HOOPED SKIRTS!" She yells. She then feels a pull on her sleeve. She calms down and turns to the source, Naomi. "Yeah?"

"Uhh, where's the corset?"

"There isn't one. Those things are dreadful and unnecessary. My design is made to be sure of that." Lady Elma explained.

Naomi whimpers while Elena pays for the dress and thanks Lady Elma again.

It was now an hour before Naomi meets her secret admirer, and she's nervous. Especially with her dress. It seems too revealing; it leaves her whole back uncovered, and the only thing keeping it up is the tie at the back of her neck. She's blushing hard. "Elena, are you sure this dress isn't too...risqué?"

Elena smiled. "No, not at all, your secret admirer would fall to their knees and beg you to be with them."

Naomi sneered. "Elena, why are you so insisted that they'll react that way?" Then she gasps and points an accusing finger at her. "Do you know who it is?!"

Elena shifted her eyes. "Whaaaat? Nooooo. I don't know who it is." She scoffs, then stands. "Well you should get going, you're about to see the love of your life, bye!" And she ran.

Naomi groans and looks back at the mirror. "Well, guess I should get going." Then she leaves.

It was now 5:58 PM. And Naomi's starting to doubt herself. What if this person is pranking her? Or worse, what if they only want her for other stuff? What if they were in love with her then decide not to be once they see her in person?

It was now 5:59. Naomi takes a deep breath. "Okay, no need to panic. If they turn out to be a jerk, kick them in the shin and run." That's what Estéban told her to do the next time someone assaults her. Naomi cracks her neck, then looks at the time.

It's now 6:00 — time to get out there.

And when she does, her eyes widen in surprise, and she gasps. Standing in front of the fountain is Estéban. And when he looks at her, his face is immediately covered in a blush.

Naomi's stammering. "Uh, eh, Estéban? You wrote the letters? You?" She's also blushing.

Estéban cleared his throat and looked away, but still blushing. "...Yes." He said quietly, but Naomi still heard.

"Wha-What? Huh? Why? Was this all some sick prank?" She was starting to panic.

Estéban looked back at her, shocked. "What? No! It- well- ugh." He groans. He takes a deep breath, then exhales. "I was only trying to help."

During the first Festival of Love since Shuriki's supposed demise, Estéban immediately gave his letters to his family. Forty-one years of not seeing them and thinking one of them was dead can really do a person in. And after each letter was given, he'd give the family member a hug, which surprised all of them, but they returned the gesture. He didn't feel the need to give any more letters to anyone else.

But then he saw Naomi. She was down since no one from her school gave her a letter, probably due to jealousy. She didn't argue with him on anything, no matter how much he teased her. It gave him a strange feeling, seeing her so down. He deduced it to either pity or relatability. Yes, there was a time when Estéban never got letters from people other than his family. These days, he knows that the family ones are all that should matter. But Naomi? She's a teenager; it matters to her. Might not matter later, but it mattered at the time.

So, he decided to leave an anonymous letter for her. Anonymous because he doesn't want her teasing remarks about him caring about her or something like that. It's only so she can focus on Council meetings...and maybe their usual banter. Same thing for the second year, but this one he meant. He really was impressed with her winning the olaball match. But he would never admit it aloud.

But things changed when the third year happened. He wasn't jealous when she got a letter from a supposedly popular boy in her school; he was happy for her, which was weird because he didn't really care about her personal life. Must've been the festival. He didn't feel anything when he saw them dancing together. But when that boy pulled her out of the ballroom, he got a bad feeling. He didn't know why he just did. So, he followed them. So, when he saw that idiota forcing himself on her when he saw her bleeding, her terrified face, her tears, something in him snapped. He. Was. PISSED. Before he knew it, he had grabbed the boy's hand in a painful grip. And when the boy ran off, he was surprised that he helped clean her face. Even more surprised that he offered to dance with her. And when they danced, he realized why he cared, why he wrote the first letter, why he kept writing them, why he's dancing with her now to make her schoolmates jealous. He wasn't pitying her, or because he related to her situation. He likes her. No, he loves her. But he can't love her, she's too young, and he's too old! They would never work.

Then Doña Paloma noticed him sulking a couple of weeks after and pressed for information. The response…

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA! YOU FELL IN LOVE WITH NAOMI?! AHAHAHA! What's next, you ask her to marry you?" She continues to laugh for ten minutes.

Estéban growled. "You don't need to laugh; I already feel awkward about it. And no, I'm not going to marry her. I won't even seek a relationship with her!"

That got Doña Paloma to calm down. "Really? I thought you would."

Estéban looked at her wide-eyed. "Have you lost your mind?! I'm too old for her! She's too young for me! It would never work, much less be appropriate."

"NOT TRUE!" Yelled a voice from the back of the store. When they both turned, they saw a lollipop-less Lady Elma, who back then was just Elma. She then pointed to Estéban. "Love like yours can be very appropriate and can work! I've seen it back in my old kingdom. I've met it back at my old kingdom. The King has done it back in my old kingdom."

Estéban looked at Doña Paloma. "You know her?"

Doña Paloma shrugged. "She came in looking for fabrics."

"DO NOT SPEAK LIKE I'M NOT HERE!" She yelled.

Estéban sighed and turned to Elma. "Okay, how were these people able to do so?"

"Simple, just need to know three things." She held up three fingers.

"And those things are?" Doña Paloma asked, now intrigued with the situation.

"One: Do you love her?"

Estéban is silent, but his face is super red. "Uhh, maybe?"

"Maybe is not an answer; yes or no only."

Estéban groans then covers his eyes with his left hand. "Yes."

"Two: Is she a legal adult in terms of your laws?"

Estéban sighs. "No, but she will be in May."

"And three, and this is the most important part: Do you intend to harm her in any way, shape, or form?"

Estéban looked up at her with wide eyes. "What? No! Even if I didn't have these feelings, I would never want to harm her!"

"Then why are you questioning on what to do? You just answered your problems." Elma said.

Estéban and Doña Paloma stood dumbfounded. This random woman came up and solved Estéban's problem as if it was a simple question. Huh.

Elma then turned to Doña Paloma. "Also, do you know where I can find crystals that can be sewn onto fabric?"

So, now that Estéban acknowledges his want to be with Naomi, he's developed a plan. It won't happen in May, that's too soon. No, it'll happen the same way he did for the past three years: The Festival of Love.

And that's how he came up with the plan: Plant the letter on her table section, meet her in person, and see if she also wants to pursue this relationship. There was just one flaw in the plan.

"ESTÉBAN?! YOU'RE NAOMI'S SECRET ADMIRER?!" Elena yelled. Yup, Elena walked into the Grand Council room early so that Estéban wouldn't chew her out for being late.

Estéban stood there blushing, not knowing what to say. What to do. What to think. What will Elena do now that she knows Estéban is Naomi's "admirer?" "Are you mad?"

Elena grabbed the letter from him, grins mischievously, gave the letter back, and then ran out of the room.

"And now I see why she grinned so mischievously." He motions to Naomi's dress. "You look...beautiful." He's still blushing.

Naomi, however, is still standing in the entranceway to the garden in shock. Estéban, Estéban, wrote the letters. All of them. He's in love with her, her. She doesn't know what to do.

Estéban notices her hesitance and confusion, then sighs. "I get it. It's too much. We usually argue and tease each other, what good would a relationship be between us? And the age gap, it must be too much for you. I'll accept your rejection with dignity and leave you to your own devices for the rest of the night." He bows then turn to leave to another exit.

"Wait!" Estéban stops and turns to Naomi, who walked outside into the moonlight, making Estéban's breath escape him.

Her dress is a floor length, ocean blue dress that has the straps tied to the back of the neck. But what stunned him were the crystals that glimmered in the moonlight, making the dress and Naomi shine. It was astonishing. She was astonishing.

When Naomi finally reached him, she spoke. "Don't assume what I think just because I didn't answer! I was just...shocked that you wrote the letters."

Estéban smirked. "Because of who I am?"

"With me."

Estéban raised a brow.

"I know you write letters to your family every year; I know you aren't incapable of having feelings. I saw how you were last Navidad. It's just; we always do three things: fight, bicker, or tease each other." She looks down while blushing. "We rarely have moments where we're completely civil with one another; so of course, I was shocked."

Estéban shifted his eyes away. "And, the probability of us...courting?"

Naomi keeps looking down. Does she want this? Does she want to pursue a relationship with Estéban? She may have developed some feelings for him at last year's ball, but is it enough? Should she do it? Then a thought came to mind, and she smirked. Then she raised her head while smirking. "I don't know? You haven't asked me."

Estéban blinked. "Eh?"

Naomi snickers. "You didn't ask me out; you only wrote to meet you here at 6:00. And what's with all the 'probability' talk? You want my answer, ask me out."

Estéban stood shocked before also smirking and doing a partial bow. "Naomi?"

"Yes?"

"Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the ball this evening?"

Naomi raised a brow but was smiling coyly. "Just the ball?"

Estéban still smirked. "Well, I can't ask to court you before having an outing, now can I?" He offers his hand to her.

Naomi giggles. Then she meets his partial bow and grabs his hand. "Then yes, I will go to the ball with you."

Estéban smiles and kisses her hand. Then they both went to the ball.

The next year, Estéban personally gave his letter to Naomi.

"This has been a wonderful year, but should we possibly take it further?" And in the bottom corner is a drawing of a ring.

When Naomi lowered the letter, Estéban was on one knee holding out a ring.

The only answer he got was being tackled to the ground while getting kissed.

A/N: Finally! It's done! Now I just need to write the last one, and hopefully bring it to you guys before the day is over. Forgive me for being late! Hope you enjoyed the story, and try not to get yourself killed. ;)

#eoa ship appreciation week #elena of avalor #esteomi #chancellor esteban #naomi turner #Princess Elena #dona paloma #my own oc #lady elma #look at this story #it's late #but still GLORIUS #sorry it's late #Happy Valentine's Day

[itsoktheyowedmemoney]

Marinette March Day 15: Support

A/N: A mini crossover with Doctor Who. This idea has been swimming in my mind since last week and I thought it could work for one of this month’s submissions. Takes place post-ML Chameleon and post-DW Resolution.

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Marinette did not feel the cool spring breeze prickle her face as she headed out the school doors, her arms loaded with textbooks. It had been another draining day that left her numb to her surroundings. Despite all her efforts in taking the high road as Adrien advised, Lila’s manipulative habits exponentially grew. Every day she would spew out a dozen or so lies that elicited sympathy or admiration from the class. Marinette wound up as a frequent target where Lila painted herself as the victim of her jealous attacks. As if on cue, the students would rush to console the scheming liar while shooting glares at Marinette and shunning her to her corner seat in the back.

It got to the point where she would often wake up on school mornings filled with dread, like someone placed a heavy object on her chest and pressed down, down, down, squeezing every bit of confidence from her spirit. Tikki was a source of comfort that she could turn too, but there was hardly much the Kwami could do for her in the classroom.

She was tired. She was disheartened. She never felt so alone despite being surrounded by the classmates she once called her friends.

And right now, she just wanted to get back home and finish her assignments, then work on her fashion designs. Or maybe play some Ultimate Mecha Strike IV.

At least she managed to avoid Chloe’s hostility today-

The ground beneath her feet vanished as she stumbled on the edge of a step and sent herself  flying down the stairs. The books she held spilled out of her arms and onto the sidewalk, one which happened to be her sketchpad –Marinette swore she put it in her backpack, just her luck – landed on the shoes of a very haughty blonde teen.

“Watch it Dupain-Cheng!”

Speak of the devil. The universe was truly conspiring against her.

Chloe snatched the sketchbook from the ground before Marinette could reach out for it.

“Still clumsy as ever, there's really no hope for you,” she said mockingly. “It’s a wonder that you can cross the streets in time before the cars run you over.”

“Give that back Chloe!”

Maybe it was because she found out her favorite makeup brand was discontinuing the mascara she always used. Or maybe it was because the newspapers published a detailed article covering an embezzlement scheme that linked André Bourgeois to a handful of top political officials two weeks ahead of the municipal elections. Whatever the cause was, her merciless behavior worsened the past several days.

“Don't tell me what to do! Or have you forgotten you're rightful place?” She opened the sketchpad and flipped through the pages.

“Oh look Sabrina,” she said as she threw a casual smirk at the red-headed girl standing beside her, “Lots of blank pages. Maybe the clumsiness infected her mind and hands too.”

Marinette felt her insides curl up. The stress of Lila’s torment hindered much of her creativity. She only managed to fully finish a few designs when inspiration struck, which nowadays came few and far in between.

Chloe stopped at a page “This one looks nice. The final work should belong to only the best.” She began pulling the edge of the sheet.

“Oi! What do you think you're doing?!”

Marinette looked to her right. A young woman in dark blue jeans and a grey sweater which was covered by a leather brown jacket approached them with an air of authority. She looked to be of South Asian descent and around Nora’s age, perhaps slightly younger. Her hair cascaded past her shoulders, with two bunches tied up in buns that perched on the sides of her head. She stopped in front of them, briefly hesitating as her eyes swept the scene, before steeling herself.

“What's going on here?” she asked calmly, but firmly.

Judging by her accent, she was not a local. The Dupain-Cheng bakery received plenty of visitors near and far for Marinette to gain a general idea of where a person was from based on the language as well as the way they spoke it.

In this woman’s case, definitely British, but unlikely from London.

“Why do you care?” Chloe sneered at her. “You're don't even go to this school, so it's none of your business.”

The older girl remained unfazed by the vitriol, taking a step to position herself between the two at an angle that shielded Marinette from Chloe’s scorching glare.

“I might not be a student, but we’re not on school grounds right now.” She quickly glanced down at Marinette in concern before returning her gaze on Chloe. “That means I have a right to ask. You’re Chloe, aren't you?”

Chloe seemed taken aback for half a second, only to immediately shrug it off.

“Obviously,” she said with a smug upwards tilt of her chin. “It's about time somebody recognizes my importance as the Princess of Paris, unlike some worthless people. They don't deserve to even hear the name Bourgeois grace upon their ears.”

“Everyone is important Chloe. And what you do isn't about what others deserve, it's what you choose to be. So as the mayor’s daughter, why not choose to be kind right now? Can you do that?”

Chloe paused in bewilderment, then threw out a snide laugh.“Ha, as if I’d take orders from someone like you!” she scoffed, “And what sort of nonsense speech was that? Only losers like you and her would waste time believing that type of garbage.”

The woman merely raised her eyebrows a bit. “If that’s your opinion, then I’m sure you would prefer to get on with the rest of your day away from some so-called loser like me.” She flashed a disarming smile that did not reach her eyes. “You two ladies must have something much more productive already planned on a nice Friday afternoon like this.”

Sabrina peeked from behind her friends shoulder “Yeah Chloe,” she chimed in. “We’re going to be late for you manicure appoint-“

“Oh zip it Sabrina!” the blonde snapped. She narrowed her eyes at the other girl, who remained composed, her face a mask of complete neutrality. A moment passed. Finally, Chloe rolled her eyes and released a huff.

“Whatever, it's not like I was going to stay around any longer.” She turned to leave.

The woman cleared her throat loudly and put out an open hand. “I believe you have something that should be returned to its rightful owner.”

Chloe let out a derisive snort and shoved the sketchpad into her hand.

“Ughh, both of you are utterly ridiculous. Come on Sabrina!”

The girl watched the pair go before turning to Marinette, her expression softening.

“Are you all right?”

Marinette nodded. “I-I’m okay.” She was still trying to process what just occurred. No one in recent memory had the guts to stand up to Chloe in that manner. Most confrontations with the mayor’s daughter ended in tears, frustration, or simmering rage. Her defender on the other hand not only got Chloe to back down, but managed to completely draw the ire away from her original intended mark.

The girl kneeled down to her level. Marinette studied her carefully. She had a calm yet steady demeanor, with deep brown eyes that exuded warmth. Marinette wondered if the girl dealt with these sorts of conflicts often. She certainly seemed experienced in facing a bully like Chloe. Perhaps she too was once a victim of one.

“That Chloe has no idea what she’s talking about,” the girl said gently, “You're not worthless or a loser. She puts people down to make herself feel better. You know that, right?

“Of course,” Marinette stammered with a little laugh. “That's Chloe acting like her usual self as expected.”

The girl frowned a bit, her brows knitted together. “Has she always treated you like that?”

“Yeah, but not just me. She acts that way with pretty much everyone. Don't worry, we're used to it.”

“I see...” Her fingers delicately brushed the surface of the opened sketchpad. “Did you draw these? They're beautiful.”

“Y-yeah, thanks.”

“You have a real talent for fashion you know. I believe you’re going be a great designer someday.”

Marinette felt her cheeks redden slightly. “Really? You think so?”

“I’m positive.” She closed and handed the sketchbook back, her dark eyes twinkling like they held some mysterious secret.

“My name’s Yasmin.” The edge of her lips curved upwards into a smile. “But you can call me Yaz.”

“I'm Marinette. Thanks for helping me out back there.”

“Anytime.” She joined her in gathering up the scattered textbooks, then helped her up. “Do you want me to walk you home? I can carry these books for you if you like. They're not too heavy for me.”

Marinette felt a smile grow on her face to match Yaz’s. “Uh, sure!” She pointed to the direction of the patisserie. “It’s that way.”

She hoped Yaz was in no hurry to go somewhere. Papa should hopefully have a fresh batch of cookies straight out of the oven that they could share together.

As they walked side by side towards the bakery, Marinette felt her heart lighten for the first time in a long while.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain-cheng #marinette march #fanfic crossover #ok so I kinda missed the date but it's still Friday somewhere on this planet right now lol

[proxylynn]

Dreemurr Academy #10 (UnderSwap Sans)

Dreemurr Academy, a prestigious closed-off college for monsters and humans alike of all ages and worlds. This includes myself, though I'm sort of an in-between. I'm Lynsie, the human anomaly. I'm a human, but I can do magic like monsters. I'm an oddball. That's the thing about making a school that is open to multiple alternate dimensions. Weird things are bound to show up. Even a bunch of the same person. From what I saw on orientation day, the same faces are scattered around all around. To fix these type of issues, everyone that has a multiple or doppelganger is given a school name so there's no confusion. Other than that, it's fairly normal. The hierarchy is the simple. The Deans are made up of the same people, skeleton monsters that go by the name of Gaster. One is a teacher of the Sciences, goes by Wingding. He's a kind and understanding man but is known to pull a prank or two. They all speak in a typeface sign language but use telepathy magic so others understand. It's been said no one has ever heard their real voices and those that have are no longer at the academy. Another Gaster dean teaches Home Economics, he goes by Wingy. He's a bubbly sweet guy that loves his work. Nothing makes him smile more than seeing the joy on a student's face when they take pride in being able to do something they first thought they couldn't. Another Gaster dean teaches the studies of Magic, he is called Fall. At times, he can be cynical, malicious, and sarcastic. He has a commanding presence that exuded gravitas, authority, and control, able to keep a class quiet without effort. Yet there is a kindness to him, it's rarely seen, but not unheard of. Another Gaster dean teaches History, his nickname is Dings. A cold, bitter, and sometimes childish man. He tends to hold grudges against troublesome students and is extremely spiteful toward those whom he dislikes. Yet those that can take his punishments are rewarded with his respect. He is a teacher that commands respect and whose grades are earned with doom hanging over your head. The Professors are also skeleton monsters, but not all are the same person. The Psychology professor is a guy named Papyrus but goes by Stretch. He's the favorite among students because he's so laid back. He chews a toothpick in class to suppress his urge to smoke, but we all know he does so when on break. He's really good at reading students and helps out when able. All in all, he's the cool teacher. The Literature professor is a Papyrus that is called Fell. He is the one teacher everyone dreads. Very strict and old-fashioned. He does not tolerate interruptions and will humiliate those he feels need to be taken down a notch. Such things take their toll on him and often squeezes a stress ball that he keeps on his desk. But he is a very passionate man when it comes to his work and takes his subject seriously, even though this makes him into a bit of a grammar nazi which is why many students get low grades. The Biology professor is a skeleton called Sans that sometimes goes by Classic, whatever that means. He is very cheesy and comes off as lazy, making puns that have people cringe yet secretly love them. He is very protective of his students and will go out of his way to help them. He does not tolerate bullying of any kind and can be quite scary. He's the second favorite among the students. The Physical Education professor is also a Sans that goes by Pain. He is also a stern and old school type of teacher, only he tends to be crueler in the humiliation of students that are unprepared. While his scope is all around, he prefers the darker side of the study. Using borderline violence to weed out the weak that think taking his class is an easy A. There is mercy in his dojo, but it must be earned with blood, sweat, and tears. The Students are broken into four groups based on which part of the four years they are currently in. The first years are called freshmen. Second years are sophomores. Third years are juniors. And fourth years are seniors. There are some variations on this topic, but this hierarchy of college students is still readily recognizable by everyone. Me? This isn't my first rodeo but not my last. I'm a sophomore and have gotten the gist of who's who and what's what. I get along with students and teachers. I've always been a middle ground type of girl. I didn't come looking for friends, but they just seemed to find me. Funny enough, my buddies are the brothers of the professors. Stretch's brother is a freshman, his name is Sans but goes by Rascal. Fell's brother, also a Sans, is a sophomore like me and goes by Edgy. Classic's brother is a Papyrus, a freshman that goes by Papy. And Pain's brother is a sophomore Papyrus by the name of Slim. I've always been a tomboy. I prefer the company of guys. They're different and fun, even if they can be a bit odd sometimes. Rascal, as the nickname implies, is the school clown/prankster. He likes to test his limits and challenge authority, even dishevels his uniform to assert his individuality. He comes off as a slacker but secretly is very deep, clever, and loyal to a fault. He likes taking his brother's class so he can improve his skills with messing with people, mostly his brother as he disrupts his teachings when he sees a chance. Edgy is shy around new people and slow to open up, enjoying a laugh with friends when able. Though he appears weak or even nerdy because of his glasses, he is far tougher than he leads on. He doesn't take crap from anyone. When alone, he's angsty and borders on straight up angry. Getting a pissy attitude when annoyed. Like his brother, he is very passionate about literature and does his best to impress his brother, going so far as to become the teacher's pet. Papy is easily the most lovable guy in the whole school. Very cheerful and optimistic, he tries his best no matter what. He doesn't like conflict and tries to keep his brother out of trouble when the teacher pulls a prank. I find it sweet of him to take his brother's class even though he doesn't particularly enjoy it, just so he can stay close to him. Like I said, this guy is a lovable soul. Slim is easy going. He doesn't take things too seriously and never breaks a sweat over hard exams. The only thing that breaks his cool is his smoking, he really gets tense if he goes too long without his fix. He's incredibly smart and instinctual, good traits to have when dealing with his brother. While he does attend his brother's class, he merely does so as a request of his brother who likes to make sure he doesn't slack off due to not being challenged enough. All of them are oddly related to each other in some form. Gaster's, Papyrus's, and Sans's are brothers. Yet I see them all as different people. I value them. They're helping me even if they don't know it. I am not so confident in myself. I tend to isolate myself, go at things lone wolf style. It's how I've always been. Then I met them and slowly my world began to expand bit by bit. I'm still not comfortable with others. But with them, I can step out from behind my mask for a bit, and really be myself around them. Today is a typical day. Classes are boring as fuck! The material sounds repetitive. The same old same old, day in day out. God, the fatigue is heavy. Luckily, or unluckily, depends on how you look at it, I've found something that is keeping my attention. Rascal, my buddy and the king of school mischief, has been focusing his efforts more on me as of late. Now it's not like he's never done so before, oh no, he's tagged me good since my second year began. He's hit me with spitballs, whoopee cushions, kick me signs, the spring-loaded whipped cream pie in my locker, stealing my cell phone then changing all my ring-tones to something super annoying before calling during my most serious classes, and of course his most skilled trick...the up the skirt panty snapshot. He alone is the reason I don't really care for the uniforms. Girls have to wear skirts and I hate it! But lately, he's stepped up his game in a more annoying way. Each prank is something physically dirty. There's been explosive condiment packets, the homemade slime dump, and purposely messing up my chemical experiments so that they blow up. It's honestly gotten so bad that I pack extra clothes. Worse still is having to use the gym showers. Rumor has it they're haunted, but I call bullshit, the damn school is less than three years old, this isn't some sort of corpse party or some anime trope. But I will admit...I have heard some weird sounds when I shower there. Though today is gonna be different. Once a month I like to spend a solid weekend with one of my friends and coincidentally their brothers. During this time, we catch up on the little things, do some work, or just goof off. And this month it's Rascal's turn. I plan on getting some answers. Stretch always has my back, mostly because Rascal annoys the piss out of him when he tries to do his job. Wingy will also help if needed, he doesn't like misbehavior or finding out his family is doing something stupid. This leads up to now...Dinner time. "so kiddo...anything new?" "Not really sir." "please, we're not at school. you don't have to treat me like a teacher." "I know. It's just a force of habit. Really hard to break." "✌❄ ☹☜✌💧❄ 💧☟☜🕯💧 🕈☜☹☹ 💣✌☠☠☜☼☜👎📬 🕆☠☹✋😐☜ ✌ 👍☜☼❄✌✋☠ 💧⚐💣☜⚐☠☜ 🕈☟⚐ 💧☟✌☹☹ ☼☜💣✌✋☠ ☠✌💣☜☹☜💧💧📬" (AT LEAST SHE'S WELL MANNERED. UNLIKE A CERTAIN SOMEONE WHO SHALL REMAIN NAMELESS.) "UH...I'M RIGHT HERE. I KNOW YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT ME." "❄☟☜☠ ✡⚐🕆 💧☟⚐🕆☹👎 😐☠⚐🕈 ✋❄🕯💧 ☼🕆👎☜ ❄⚐ 💧❄✌☼❄ 💧❄🕆☞☞✋☠☝ ✡⚐🕆☼ ☞✌👍☜ 👌☜☞⚐☼☜ ✋ 🏱🕆❄ ❄☟☜ ☝⚐💧☟ 👎✌☼☠ 🏱☹✌❄❄☜☼ 👎⚐🕈☠📬 ⚐☟✏ 🏱✌☼👎☜☠ 💣✡ ☹✌🕆☝✌☝☜📬" (THEN YOU SHOULD KNOW IT'S RUDE TO START STUFFING YOUR FACE BEFORE I PUT THE GOSH DARN PLATTER DOWN. OH! PARDEN MY LAUGAGE.) "You're fine Wingy, believe me, I've heard worse." "⚐☟ 👎☜✌☼📪 ✌💧 🏱✌🏱✡☼🕆💧 💧✌✋👎📪 🕈☜🕯☼☜ ☠⚐❄ ✌❄ ❄☟☜ ✌👍✌👎☜💣✡📬 ✡⚐🕆 👍✌☠ 🕆💧☜ ⚐🕆☼ ❄☼🕆☜ ☠✌💣☜💧📬" (OH DEAR, AS PAPYRUS SAID, WE'RE NOT AT THE ACADEMY. YOU CAN USE OUR TRUE NAMES.) "Okay...Gaster. Wow, that takes getting used to." "YOU SAY THAT EVERY TIME." "sans..." "WHAT?" "don't be a smartass." Rascal just rolls his eyes and continues to eat as Wingy serves the rest of us. I'll give the guy credit, out of the four Gaster, Wingy is the best cook around. Though there is some talk of another skeleton that is looking to take on the job he has. My guess is he'll end up as a secondary professor or personal tutor. "💧⚐ 🏱✌🏱✡☼🕆💧📪 🕈☟✌❄ ☟✌✞☜ ✡⚐🕆 ✋💧💧🕆☜👎 ☞⚐☼ ❄☟✋💧 ✈🕆✌☼❄☜☼🕯💧 ✌💧💧✋☝☠💣☜☠❄✍" (SO PAPYRUS, WHAT HAVE YOU ISSUED FOR THIS QUARTER'S ASSIGNMENT?) "nothing much. just told them to give me an original paper in any psychological field." "YEAH. LIKE THAT'S SIMPLE." "You don't have a subject yet?" "YOU DO?" "I do." "mind sharing it?" "Only because you asked and it can tease you with waiting. I'm writing about the correlation of dreams having more effect/relevance on the conscious mind and not just the unconscious." "dang...now i am curious." "💧🏱☜✌😐✋☠☝ ⚐☞ 👎☼☜✌💣💧📪 ☟⚐🕈 ✌☼☜ ✡⚐🕆☼💧 👎⚐✋☠☝ 💧✌☠💧✍" (SPEAKING OF DREAMS, HOW ARE YOURS DOING SANS?) Rascal looks up at his older brother. "HUH?" "✡⚐🕆☼ 👎☼☜✌💣💧📬 ✌☼☜ ❄☟☜✡ ❄☼⚐🕆👌☹✋☠☝ ✡⚐🕆✍" (YOUR DREAMS. ARE THEY TROUBLING YOU?) "NO...? WHY DO YOU ASK?" "🕈☜☹☹📪 💧⚐💣☜ ☠✋☝☟❄💧 ✋ 👍✌☠ ☟☜✌☼ ✡⚐🕆 💣🕆❄❄☜☼✋☠☝ 🕈☜✌☼✋☹✡📬" (WELL, SOME NIGHTS I CAN HEAR YOU MUTTERING WEARILY.) Rascal's cheekbones color faintly and he averts his gaze. "I'M FINE." "⚐☟📪 ❄☟✌❄ ☼☜💣✋☠👎💧 💣☜📬 🏱✌🏱✡☼🕆💧📪 ☟✌✞☜ ✡⚐🕆 ☞✋✠☜👎 ❄☟☜ 💧✋☠😐✍" (OH, THAT REMINDS ME. PAPYRUS, HAVE YOU FIXED THE SINK?) "didn't need to. there was nothing wrong with it or any of the others." "☼☜✌☹☹✡✍ ✋ 💧🕈☜✌☼ ✋🕯✞☜ ☟☜✌☼👎 ✋❄ 👎☼✋🏱🏱✋☠☝ ✌❄ ✌☹☹ ☟⚐🕆☼💧 ⚐☞ ❄☟☜ ☠✋☝☟❄📬" (REALLY? I SWEAR I'VE HEARD IT DRIPPING AT ALL HOURS OF THE NIGHT.) I can't help but notice Rascal squirm and the cyan blush he sports is getting darker. Wonder what that's about. "LOOK, CAN WE JUST EAT AND NOT TALK FOR FIVE MINUTES?" We all give him a look. "WHAT?" "you know it won't hurt to get that monkey off your back." "I SAID, I'M FINE." "✡⚐🕆🕯☼☜ 👍☹☜✌☼☹✡ ☠⚐❄📬" (YOU'RE CLEARLY NOT.) "DROP IT! JUST DROP IT!" He storms off to his room. "⚐☟ ☝⚐⚐👎☠☜💧💧📬" (OH GOODNESS.) Stretch stands. "i'll go talk with him." He follows after Rascal, leaving Wingy and me. "✋ 👎⚐ ✌🏱⚐☹⚐☝✋☪☜ ☞⚐☼ 💧✌☠💧📬 ✋ 👎⚐☠🕯❄ 😐☠⚐🕈 🕈☟✌❄🕯💧 ☝⚐❄❄☜☠ ✋☠❄⚐ ☟✋💣 ☹✌❄☜☹✡📬" (I DO APOLOGIZE FOR SANS. I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOTTEN INTO HIM LATELY.) Lately? "So this has been going on for some time?" "🖂💧✋☝☟🖂 ✋ 😐☠⚐🕈 ☟☜ ☠☜☜👎💧 ☟☜☹🏱📪 👌🕆❄ ☟☜ 🕈⚐☠🕯❄ ❄☜☹☹ 🕆💧 ✌☠✡❄☟✋☠☝📬 ✋❄🕯💧 ✈🕆✋❄☜ 🕈⚐☼☼✋💧⚐💣☜📬" (*sigh* I KNOW HE NEEDS HELP, BUT HE WON'T TELL US ANYTHING. IT'S QUITE WORRISOME.) He frowns in concern and it gets to me. I get up and go behind him, surprising him with a hug. "If anyone can make him talk, it's Stretch." "✋💧 ✋❄ 🕈☜✋☼👎 ✋ 🕈⚐☼☼✡ 💧⚐ 💣🕆👍☟✍" (IS IT WEIRD I WORRY SO MUCH?) "No, it's understandable. You care. There's nothing wrong with that." He smiles and pats my arm. "✡⚐🕆🕯☼☜ ✌ ☝⚐⚐👎 ☝✋☼☹📪 ☹✡☠💧✋☜📬" (YOU'RE A GOOD GIRL, LYNSIE.) "I try." I let him go and rub his skull childishly. "You're adorable Wingy. I'm gonna go see how those two are doing." "☝⚐⚐👎 ☹🕆👍😐📬" (GOOD LUCK.) With that, I depart from the table and enter the hall towards their rooms. I get close to Rascal's room but stop just before it in front of the bathroom, his door is closed but I hear voices. "bro, seriously, what's wrong? you've been acting funny more than usual. and not the 'ha ha' type of funny that we know you for." "I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!" "is this about those dreams you've been having? if you just tell us what's up then maybe..." "OKAY! JUST STOP ALREADY. *sigh* I'VE BEEN HAVING... ERM, CONFUSING DREAMS LATELY." "what sorts of dreams? nightmares?" "NO! NOT BAD ONES! JUST...UNUSUAL I'D SAY..." "how unusual? we are talking about dreams here." "MAYBE IT'S BEST IF I TELL YOU..." Rascal clears his throat. "FIRST I'M STANDING SOMEWHERE. I DON'T KNOW WHERE. I'M ALL ALONE, BUT I'M HAPPY; I'M EXPECTING SOMEONE. WHEN THE PERSON I'M EXPECTING ARRIVES, WE TALK. I DON'T REMEMBER THE SUBJECT NOW." "well you need to try and remember what happened if you want me to really hear what you think, but so far it doesn't sound so strange." "YOU SEE, THE STRANGE PART IS...IT'S WHAT HAPPENS LATER." "okay...what happens?" "WE GO TO MY ROOM AND I...I'M SORRY I CAN'T TALK ABOUT IT!" It doesn't take me long to figure out what kind of dreams he's been having. It's actually kind of cute. But really now, who's the certain someone? "bro, those kind of dreams are normal. there's nothing to worry about in having them." "BUT THE PERSON I MEET...I DON'T KNOW IF IT WOULD BE APPROPRIATE." "why do you feel like that? what's wrong with his dream lover?" "OKAY, ONE...DON'T EVER USE THOSE WORDS AGAIN. AND TWO, DON'T EVER USE THOSE WORDS AGAIN." "noted. but go on. why is the love of your dreams inappropriate?" Rascal swallows audibly. "NO, THAT'S NOT THE POINT...I MEAN...MAYBE...JUST...JUST FORGET ABOUT IT. I'M FEELING A BIT TIRED. DO YOU MIND IF WE TALK SOME OTHER TIME?" "oh, no, you're not wriggling out of this that easily. you should come clean and confess; you'll sleep better with the burden off your conscience." "IT'S SOMEONE CLOSE!" Well, now, that's intriguing. Someone close huh. Bet it's that odd bunny chick, she always seems to eye the bone boys. Best quit while I'm ahead before I get busted. Though I do still feel a little curious, I decide to go back and help Wingy. Stretch comes back sometime later, crashing on his lounger and chilling out to Jeopardy. He tells us things will be okay and we kind of have no choice but to believe him. Wingy, still concerned, decides to bake something that he thinks will cheer his little brother up. Which is a great idea...till a freak blender accident makes a splattering mess. Thank god I planned for this, god I'm too used to this by now. "❄☟☜ 👌✌❄☟☼⚐⚐💣🕯💧 ✌☹☹ ✡⚐🕆☼💧 👎☜✌☼📬 ✌☝✌✋☠📬📬📬✋🕯💣 ✌💣 💧⚐ 💧⚐☼☼✡ ✌👌⚐🕆❄ ❄☟✋💧📬" (THE BATHROOM'S ALL YOURS DEAR. AGAIN...I'M AM SO SORRY ABOUT THIS.) "It's fine. No damage was done. Hell, at least it was tasty." "✡⚐🕆🕯☼☜ ✌☹🕈✌✡💧 ☹⚐⚐😐✋☠☝ ⚐☠ ❄☟☜ 👌☼✋☝☟❄💧✋👎☜📬 ❄☟✌❄🕯💧 ✌ ☝⚐⚐👎 ❄☼✌✋❄📬" (YOU'RE ALWAYS LOOKING ON THE BRIGHTSIDE. THAT'S A GOOD TRAIT.) Wingy fusses with my hair playfully as he leaves to his room for the night. "eh. i guess i'll get some shuteye too." "Like you didn't already. You nodded off before final Jeopardy." He chuckles as he too gets up. "maybe, but it's not like the answer was super important." "It wasn't. Then again, I didn't hear it either. Too busy being caked on. *giggle*" He walks by me as I gather up my sleeping clothes. "hey, kiddo..." "Yes, sir?" He gives me a funny look and then smiles. "don't stay up too late." "I'll try. But I make no promises." With that, he leaves and I make my way into the bathroom for a quick shower before bed. Ah, there's nothing like the feel of warm water and the scent of lavender shampoo/conditioner to soothe the soul before bed. That plus it's a great way to get excess baking batter off the body and out of my hair. Soon enough though, I start hearing something. It's like the odd sound I'd hear in the academy showers, only a bit louder. Is it... Is it coming from Rascal's room? That bony butt hole! Has he been messing with me when I'm in the showers?! That dingus! Oh, I am so gonna give him a piece of my mind. I cut the water off, grab one of their bathrobes before my mind forgets I'm nude and make it to his door all flustered. I'm just about to rage grab his doorknob when suddenly I hear a faint moan. "OH...LYNSIE." Wait...Is he... no, he couldn't be. I sidle up to the door, pressing my ear against the wood and start to listen intently. "DAMN IT...WHY'D SHE HAVE TO BE HERE? CURSE MY DREAMS...OH, LYNSIE. IF ONLY YOU KNEW..." Now blushing and my curiosity teased, I decide to take a little peek through the lock; I have to verify that this is really happening. I press myself against it as best I can, looking through into the bedroom beyond. True to what my ears heard, I find one of my best friends in deep focus on more...carnal matters. Naked from the waist down, he sits on the edge of his bed, glowing cyan member in hand and enthusiastically stroking himself off. "AH! THE THINGS YOU DO TO ME...THE THINGS I WISH YOU WOULD DO TO ME...AH..." He groans to himself between pants and moans. The distinct sound of fapping of a hand slapping is quite audible from where I am. He whimpers softly and bites his lower jaw, clearly nearing the brink. Holy shit...This is for real. This is beyond a curious development. He's developed a crush on me? He thinks I'm attractive? Well, now...um...this is awkward. I should give him the chance to finish himself off. But I feel I need to head in and talk to him. Argh! I hate choices! Okay, calm down. Let's let fate decide. If his door is unlocked, then I go in. If not, I go to bed. I mentally count to three and very carefully turn the knob...the door is unlocked. I black out for a moment, but when my brain restarts I see that without missing a beat, I've opened the door and stepped in right in time to see a sticky rope of goo dribble onto the floor as he scrambles to cover himself up. "LYNSIE! W-WAIT, I CAN EXPLAIN! I SWEAR I...I...OH, GOD!" He hides under the covers of his bed, his skull blue with shame. I shake my head of the red flooding my cheeks. I slowly shut the door before approaching the hiding skeleton and sit at his bedside. "Dude...You like me?" Rascal peeks from under his covers. "YOU...YOU MEAN YOU'RE NOT MAD AT ME?" I tilt my head confused. "Mad? For what? Hell, if anything I'm at a loss for why you do like me." "REALLY?" "Yeah. Not saying I'm not flattered to be the object of your desire. Because frankly, I need the self-esteem boost. But there's no need to hide yourself or these feelings. If you felt this way about me, you should've just said so." I finish with a smile and he visibly relaxes, letting the covers fall on his chest. "I'M SORRY. I JUST...I WASN'T SURE HOW TO GO ABOUT THIS." "Is that why you've been pounding me with so many pranks?" "YEAH. I'M NOT PROUD OF THAT." "That's for sure. That's how boys get girls in elementary school. Or at least, that's how TV makes it out to be." "I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. IT'S TOO EMBARRASSING TALKING TO MY BROTHERS ABOUT PERSONAL STUFF." "You could've talked to me." "YOU'RE JOKING, RIGHT? LIKE I COULD REALLY TALK TO YOU ABOUT IT." "R-man, it's me we're talking about. You know I wouldn't judge you." "I JUST COULDN'T, OKAY! NOT AFTER WHAT I DID. WHAT I SAW." What does that mean? "Rascal? What are talking about?" He hides behind his hands and trembles faintly. "I FOUND A MANTANICE PATH UNDER THE BUILDING. I WANTED TO USE IT TO AVOID CLASSES AND PULL OFF EVEN BETTER TRICKS. SO I HAD TO CHECK WHERE THEY LEAD. ONE WAY HAD A LOOSE WALL BEAM AND I FOLLOWED IT. IT WENT PRETTY FAR. THEN A RAT SPOOKED ME. I TUMBLED AND SMACKED THE WALL. IT CRACK ON MY SIDE BUT CHIPPED A BIT ON THE OUTSIDE, NOTHING NOTICEABLE. TO MAKE SURE I WASN'T NOTICED I LOOKED THROUGH THE HOLE AND SAW..." "Saw...?" "...PROMISE YOU WON'T HIT ME." I don't like where this is going. "I promise." "*gulp*...I LOOKED IN THE HOLE AND SAW...THE SHOWERS." It hits me like a ton of bricks. "You..." "BEFORE YOU FREAK OUT, WHICH IS TOTALLY UNDERSTANDABLE, PLEASE HEAR ME OUT! IT WAS A COMPLETE ACCIDENT. ...THE FIRST TIME." My eye twitches. "First time?" "IT'S JUST THAT...WELL...SEEING YOU THERE, ALL COVERED IN SUDS WITH WATER CASCADING OFF YOU...*shudder* I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF." He regrets that as soon as it leaves him and I glare at him. "Oh my god..." "REMEMBER, YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T HIT ME." "You are the biggest freaking dork ever! I should be beating on you like a xylophone!" "WAIT!" "What? Give me one good reason I shouldn't hold this over you like a hangman's noose?" "BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!" I blank at those words. "Wha...?" "I SAID, I LOVE YOU." Realizing he said those words and seeing the look on my face, he recoils, hiding his face once more inside his covers. "THIS IS WHY I DIDN'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT. NOW YOU HATE ME. MY GAL PAL HATES ME AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO." I hear sniffling and my eyes widen. Dear lord, he's going to cry. I must fix this. I pull the covers off his face and throw myself at him in a hug much to his confusion. "L-LYNSIE?" "I don't hate you, you goofball. How can I hate you? You're my friend. My recently emotional and horny friend. I can't be mad at you for how you feel. I just want to help." He shakes a little, even as he cautiously puts his arms around me and breathes in relief. "I'M SO SORRY..." "I forgive you." "THANK YOU." "So...We cool now? No more crazy pranks? Or impromptu shower peepshows?" "YEAH. I PROMISE TO STOP." "Thanks." I give him a nuzzle and he rubs my back. "HEH...KNOW SOMETHING FUNNY? I'VE JUST NOW NOTICED YOU'RE IN MY ROBE." "Sorry. I grabbed the closest one when I got out of the shower." "NO, IT'S OKAY. ...IT LOOKS NICE ON YOU." I blush, thinking this must seem so coincidentally intimate. "T-thank you." He runs a hand through my still wet hair. "I DON'T KNOW WHY YOU SAID YOU NEED A SELF-ESTEEM BOOST. YOU'RE SO BEAUTIFUL. ONLY IN MY DREAMS CAN I HOPE TO BE WITH YOU. I'M...I'M JUST ME, AND YOU...I DIDN'T THINK SOMEONE LIKE YOU COULD EVER..." He trails off somewhat sadly and I kiss his cheek to lift his spirits. "You're over thinking it. If you relax, then things will be fine." He smiles fondly. "LYNSIE...CAN I ASK YOU SOMETHING?" "Sure." "CAN I...KISS YOU?" "R-really?" "JUST THIS ONCE. I WANT...I WANT TO END THIS NIGHT WITH SOMETHING THAT WILL MAKE MY DREAMS EVEN SWEETER." "Okay. But no funny stuff." "WOULDN'T DREAM OF IT." "Then why do I feel you crossing your fingers?" "HEH HEH, OKAY, YOU CAUGHT ME. BUT I WON'T TRY ANYTHING. I SWEAR." I give a small chuckle before sitting up. Doing so opens the robe a tiny bit but it's enough for him to see some skin and get his bones sweating. I don't notice as I lean into the distracted bone boy and gently lay my lips to his quivering smile. Initially, I intend the kiss to be only a quick peck, but then it lasts for several seconds and then longer. I can't really explain it, but once we made contact, something in me did not want this feeling to end. Realizing I've yet to pull away, he softly returns the kiss and kneads his hand into the back of my head. His other hand trails up my arm, feeling its way down the slope of my back and test touches the hill that is my rear. When I still don't move away he gets bolder. The hand on my ass retreats to my hip, where it rubs into me before tugging on the robe's sash. And that's when I finally break the kiss. "Rascal?" "I, UM...TOO MUCH?" I look away sheepishly. "HEY...WHAT'S WRONG?" "...I...I'm a virgin." His eyes widen. "YOU TOO?" We share odd looks before laughing. This must look adorable, especially because we're acting like hopeless virgins. This explains so much. "So..." "YEAH..." "Do we...You know...?" "ARE YOU SUGGESTING THAT WE...AND THAT I...PUT IT IN YOU?" "We could. It's an option." "YOU SURE? I MEAN, NOT THAT I DON'T WANT TO! OF COURSE, I'D SO DO THAT TO YOU. I MEAN WITH YOU! ARGH! I SOUND LIKE SUCH A CREEP." "Just a tiny bit. But in a cute way." "YOU THINK I'M CUTE?" "Well...Yeah. You're cute." "...LET'S DO THIS." "You sure?" "YES. I'M TIRED OF BEING SHY VIRGIN ABOUT THIS. IF OUR RELATIONSHIP HAS ESCALATED TO THIS CURRENT LEVEL, I WANT TO MAKE IT REAL. I WANT YOU TO BE MY FIRST. MY ONE AND ONLY. WILL YOU BE WITH ME TONIGHT LYNSIE? PLEASE?" Damn him and his love. In a short time he's made me annoyed, mad, and then filled with butterflies. I slip off his bed and begin stripping off bathrobe, leaving me bare much to his excitement. "I TAKE THIS AS A YES." "Come on, funny bones, play fair. You've seen me plenty of times. Now it's your turn." He shyly does the same, slipping off his nightshirt until he is laying in his bed completely bare-boned. "OK...HOW DO YOU WANT TO DO THIS?" "Hmmm...Good question. I believe we both know how this works, correct?" "YES, I KNOW WHAT PART OF ME GOES WHERE IN YOU." "Then maybe the standard way would be best. Sound okay?" "SOUNDS LIKE A PLAN TO ME." He gets off his bed and I teasingly take his place on the bed, looking up at him as he comes crawling back to be on top of me. The reaction is almost instantaneous; Rascal's magic made shaft immediately grows fully erect. "Whoa. You sure that'll fit?" "I'M SURE IT'S SUPPOSE TO. SURELY IT WILL. ...I HOPE AT LEAST." He laughs in nervousness. The broken ice of the room somehow reforming with awkwardness. This has us waiting for a short while and things get a little tense. "So...This is sex?" "N-NO...I HAVEN'T...IT'S NOT IN YET." "No offense, but...why not?" "...I'M SCARED. I DON'T WANT TO HURT YOU." "Awww..." "DON'T 'AWWW' ME." "But you're so adorable." "I DON'T WANT TO BE ADORABLE. I'M A MAN. I'M MAGNIFICENT." "Okay mister man, be all bad boy if it makes you happy. But unless someone does something soon, neither of us are going to be feeling good anytime soon." "ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, I GET IT. JUST GIVE ME A SECOND." He breathes through his nose hole a few times before kneeling between my legs, aligning the tip of his shaft with my opening. He looks at me, waiting for me to confirm that he should indeed get going. I gently smile and nod. He smiles right back at me and finally begins easing himself inside. Rascal nervously begins to push his surprising warm member inside, timidly inserting an inch or two and then withdrawing, as if unable to bring himself to fully penetrate me. I groan at the initial intrusion and sigh as he pulls out. This is going nowhere fast. Bothered by his impromptu teasing, I decide to take charge. "You okay? I thought you wanted this?" "I-I'M SORRY, IT'S JUST...I'M NOT USED TO THIS, YOU KNOW?" His eyes are downcast, and I'm certain I can see him blush in humiliation. "IT...IT'S SO OVERWHELMING TO FINALLY BE WITH SOMEONE, NEVER MIND SOMEONE LIKE YOU." Giggling at his sweet hesitation, I gently take his hands in mine and guide them around my side, making him hug me. He doesn't need much encouragement to comply, easily snuggling against me, breastbone to actual breast, and sighing softly. "I'M SORRY. I JUST WONDER WHY YOU'D EVEN BOTHER DOING SOMETHING LIKE THIS, WITH SOMEONE LIKE ME." There's sadness in his voice and I don't like it. "Please don't be such an idiot." "HUH?" "Give yourself some credit. I like you. So forget about your insecurities. Because the more you think about it, the worse it's gonna get and I really hate seeing someone I care about unhappy. So cheer up. Or do I really have to be the one to pop our cherries?" Judging by the prodding I feel on my leg, I don't have to say anything more as he gently aligns himself with my sex and lets out a gruff huff when he suddenly thrusts himself forward, embedding himself in me to the hilt. This has me gasp and squeak in shock at the painful pinching sensation of the sudden intrusion, it's like something very girthy being shoved into the eye of a sewing needle. I cling harshly to my skeletal lover, my nails clawing at his bones. Panicked and in a bit of pain himself, he does what he can to ease me. Some light kissing here, some kind words there, it all gets to me eventually yet I still can't help but tease him. "*grunt* See? N-not so difficult now, w-was it?" "N-NOT DIFFICULT, NO. *groan* BUT HARD, ALL THE SAME." Did he just make a joke? "Heh...A poke and a joke, what better way to charm a girl. But unless you expect me to do all the work, the two of us won't get anything done if you just sit still." "YOU'RE ENJOYING TEASING ME, AREN'T YOU?" "Only a little bit. Just trying to tempt you into getting your head in the game and not worry so much." "VERY WELL. HERE GOES NOTHING." With that he promptly makes himself busy, awkwardly thrusting in and out, pumping in a clumsy attempt to please us both. While I do appreciate his enthusiasm, just randomly thrusting isn't really giving me all those 'seeing stars' feelings everyone always says they get in sex and I will be damned if I have this first time be a complete letdown. "Sans, can you stop for a moment?" Hearing me say his name makes him do so instantly and he blinks curiously. "DID I HURT YOU? AM I DOING SOMETHING WRONG? I'M SORRY!" "Calm down, you didn't do anything wrong, and you certainly didn't hurt me." "SO, WHAT'S WRONG THEN? I'M NOT DOING THAT BADLY, AM I?" "No! No! Y-you're doing fine!" He pouts. "YOU DON'T HAVE TO LIE TO ME." "I'm not lying." "*sad sigh* THIS IS SO MUCH EASIER IN MY DREAMS." "Hey, for the last time, you're doing fine. I just wanted you to stop so I can try something." "OH?" Rubbing his spine, I shall attempt to guide him through the process. Grasping on the base of his spinal cord, I begin sliding my hand up and down in slow tender strokes. He shivers out moans at the pleasure flooding his sensitive bones, but it doesn't stop him from catching on; indeed, he proves himself a quick study and starts to preempt my 'instructions'. Moving his hips in deep tender pumps, taking time to feel all there is and yet still find new spots that feel even better. Now, this is so much better. "I-I CAN'T TELL YOU HOW INCREDIBLE THIS IS, LYNSIE. YOU'RE SO WARM AND WET INSIDE." He begins murmuring such sweetness to me, too caught up in the sensations of sex to really flatter me, though I enjoy it all the same. "Oh yeah...That's the stuff. See, you're doing fine. Mmmm...So damn fine~ Ooooh Sans~." You moan alongside him, singing praises to him being a quick study, letting go of his spine and grabbing onto his bony shoulders instead, giving him a few more directions so he can catch some spots that feel extra sensitive. Suddenly he clenches up and gasps, moaning several times and arching his back before he can't hold it back anymore and climaxes inside of me, filling his sticky magic goo. I moan as he fills me with his magical essence, then immediately sigh in disappointment as he slumps down on top of me and nuzzling against my cheek tenderly. "THAT WAS INCREDIBLE." "Yeah..." "HEY, WHAT'S WRONG?" "Nothing." "WAIT...DIDN'T YOU CUM TOO?" I can tell in his voice that he's curious yet sated. That means he'll keep asking until I say something. "I don't know. I guess I just didn't have enough time to get to that point." "REALLY?" "But it's okay. It did feel good for the time it lasted. And I'm happy to have made you feel so good." "YOU MEAN, I DIDN'T...? NO. HELL, NO, THAT'S NOT ACCEPTABLE!" He growls and to my surprise, I suddenly feel his flaccid member swelling once more inside me. He takes a dominating mount above me, grabbing onto my shoulders and starting to thrust himself hard into me once more. I groan in as much surprise as there is pleasure, bracing myself against Rascal as he begins fucking me with as much enthusiasm as when we started. I'm genuinely impressed. This is not something a newcomer to sex should be able to pull off. But screw that. I decide to thank and congratulate his dedication with a hot passionate kiss. He promptly redoubles his efforts, while trying to kiss me back in appreciation of the gesture. I begin to lose myself in the pleasure and closeness of this most powerful act. Slowly I start to feel a pressure build in my loins, and, if anything I've ever heard or read about is true, I know this as a sign that it won't be long before I finally achieve the oh so desired orgasm. Rascal himself lets out a cry of relief; having finally achieved his goal in helping me to orgasm, this means he can give in to the sensations he himself is being overwhelmed by, spraying my insides with a second coating of magic goo spunk, dredging up every last drop left. With a groan, he sinks down atop me, his orgasm pushes me over the edge, moaning out his name and my insides contracting trying their best to milk the poor skeleton of all the magic love goo he is worth. Then with one last spasm, I slump down against the bed and his shaft deeply embedded inside me slowly fades away unable to maintain form, some of our mixed juices running down to mat his bed. He lays there with me, panting softly from the exertion then somehow finds the strength to give me a weak yet cheeky grin. "SO, HOW WAS I THIS TIME?" "*flirty giggles* To quote you from earlier...That was incredible." "MYEH HEH HEH...GLAD TO HEAR IT. TO QUOTE YOU...I AIM TO PLEASE." "Mmmm...That you did~. You really surprised me. I didn't expect you to be able to get a second erection so quickly, especially after you just came." "WELL, I'VE LEARNED A FEW TRICKS AT THE ACADEMY FROM SOME OF THE MORE, UH, RESTRICTED TEXTBOOKS, SHALL WE SAY?" "Oh?" "NOT ENOUGH THAT I CAN DO ANYTHING MAJOR, BUT ENOUGH FOR...SOMETHING LIKE THIS..." His cockiness assures me he's back to his normal self. But I still can't help but tease my prankster lover. "Rather clever of you to bone up on such studies. But I wonder...What reason would you have for picking up this one particular talent, my dear friend?" He rubs the back of his skull bashfully. "A GUY CAN DREAM OF FINDING THAT SOMEONE SPECIAL SOMEDAY, CAN'T THEY? AND YOU KNOW WHAT THE BOY SCOUTS SAY, 'BE PREPARED'." "You, my fine fellow, are no boy scout." "SO TRUE. BUT YOU'RE STILL HERE AND HAVING A GOOD TIME ALL THE SAME." "That I am." I snuggle him in content. "Bet you're happy I came over now." He flinches. "YOU..." "I may have been naughty and eavesdropped while you were chatting with Stretch." He chuckles and nips at my ear. "SUCH A BAD GIRL YOU ARE. I DON'T KNOW IF I SHOULD PUNISH YOU OR PRAISE YOU." "Heh, all I know is, that next time we do this I expect at least four more performances like this." His eyes bulge at my suggestion, half in fear and half in lust. "I...I CAN'T POSSIBLY DO THAT! I MEAN, I DON'T HAVE THE ENERGY." He declares, swallowing audibly and averting his eyes much to my amusement. Grinning, I pull him into the final kiss of the night, reassuring him this is just something for him to think about. Having said that, I gather our clothes and redress before joining him once more in bed, staying together the rest of the night...But I do have one question though. "Hey Sans..." "YEAH?" "What do you do with all the photos you take of up my skirt?" He flinches so hard it shakes me. "UH..." "You don't do anything weird with them, do you? Like, sell them?" "WHAT?! NO! NEVER! I WOULD NEVER PART WITH ANY OF THOSE MOUTH WATERING SHOTS OF YOUR GLORY. THOSE ARE FOR MY EYES ONLY." "Then what do you do with them aside from beating your magic meat to them?" "WELL I CERTAINLY DIDN'T USE THEM TO MAKE SOME SORT OF SCRAPBOOK FILLED WITH PICS OF YOUR LOVELY ASSETS, THAT'S FOR SURE." We just look at each other. "It's under the bed, isn't it?" "MAYBE." "Wow Sans. Just...Wow." "HEY...IN MY DEFENCE...YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSE TO KNOW ABOUT IT." "Oh my god, Sans." "SORRY." "Don't be..." I hug the goofy bonehead. "Never be sorry for being yourself. Because I like you as you are. Perverted numbskull and all." "AWWW..." [Meanwhile: the hallway] Stretch walks past his younger brother's room with a bottle of honey in one hand and a smirk on his face. He bypasses his own room to slip a note under his older brother's door before returning to his room for the night. The note is simple and only states this..."The dream has been worked out".

#undertale #underfell #underswap #fellswap #dreemurr academy #underversity #sans #papyrus #gaster #buttercupsticksnlicks