#or her desire to pretend her children don't know the fun words

[onbearfeet]

No, Microsoft Word, upon consideration I don't think my audience will be offended by my use of the word "fuck". My intended audience is queers, teenagers, and queer teenagers, all of whom seem to be absolutely fucking delighted by my use of the word "fuck".

#writer problems #writers on tumblr #writeblr #my protagonist is 16 and a product if the foster system #she also has the personality of a feral cat in a wet sack #she definitely says “fuck” #update the audience now includes my 11yo nephew known on here as #uranium nephew #and his mother will definitely want to know what he's reading #guess we'll see which cracks first #her desire to not acknowledge the queerness of certain family members #or her desire to pretend her children don't know the fun words #to which i can only say #well FUCK

[icarusignite]

Like an old melody, my heart resumes

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Summary: After years apart and with several misunderstandings between them, you meet Prince Daeron at what is meant to be his betrothal feast. When secrets and unspoken desires come to light, you and Daeron are faced with a choice: to let go of the past and embrace a love that has always burned between them or allow your tumultuous history to keep you apart. 

High Valyrian words: 

ñuha rūklon = my flower

kepa = father

Pairing: Daeron x Fem! Reader | (angst, hurt/comfort, fluff)

A/N: for the lovely @lady-targaryens-world and their request. Thank you, I had so much fun writing this. Daeron is a total sweetheart. I fancast him as Lucas Lynggaard Tønnesen cuz he looks like how I imagined Daeron. Hope you like the fic and hope your exams went well 💙💙💙

Word Count: 4K

"What's on your mind, ñuha rūklon?"

Your head snapped up to meet the eyes of Daemon Targaryen as he leaned in the doorway of your room, observing you keenly. You shifted your position on your bed, sitting up straighter against the headboard, careful not to disturb the slumbering brunette whose head lay on your lap.

"Nothing, kepa," you smiled at him.

"You've been distant lately. Ever since news of our travel."

You sighed as your eyes strayed to the crumpled letter in your fist, "Do I have to go Kingslanding, kepa? May I not just stay here, please."

Daemons said your name disapprovingly and gave you a stern look, or tried to anyways, but he was powerless when faced with your mournful eyes pleading with him.

"Your grandsire would feel your absence deeply if you do not go. Not to mention your mother, she would like all her children in one place."

"But-"

"You will have a good time there my little flower, and you will have your brothers to keep you company," he stated firmly before leaving.

You rolled your eyes and huffed in frustration. This trip to King's Landing would be anything but fun. Your parents kept trying to tempt you with tales of festivities and merriment, but all you could think about was that the only reason such an event was even being held in the first place was that he had returned.

Him.

Daeron Targaryen, third son of King Viserys and Queen Alicent, your dearest childhood companion, and also the boy who broke your heart. You frowned at the letter in your hand once again, a choked melancholic feeling rising in your throat. It was the last letter he'd ever written to you, dated years ago, and although you had written many ever since then, you never received a reply. It was unfair. He had promised you that he wouldn't forget you, but he had. He had forgotten you within the first year of being sent to Oldtown, and now your parents expected you to attend what would be his betrothal feast with a happy disposition. You could not do it. Although years old, the ache of betrayal still felt fresh.

"You've been frowning an awful lot lately sister," came a sleepy mumbled sound from below you, and you looked down to see your younger brother, Lucerys, looking up at you in concern.

You grinned as you carded your fingers through his hair, "Don't worry your head over it, little Luke."

He rolled his eyes at the nickname and pushed your hand away in annoyance.

"I'm serious. Why are you so sad? Do you really not want to go? If you want I can pretend to be sick and tell Mother that I'm not fit to travel and then you'll have an excuse to stay behind with me."

"You don't have to do that for me, Luke."

"But I would. I don't like it when you're sad."

Your heart swelled with affection for your younger brother and you smiled at him, hands going to brush the hair from his forehead.

"I know you're looking forward to it Luke. You don't have to stay behind for me. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive!"

"Okay," he hesitated before raising his fist in the air. "But if anyone bothers you, you tell me, and I'll duel them!"

A giggle bubbled out of you at his heartfelt exclamation. You pushed his hand back down, thumbing the scar that stretched across the back of it.

"How about we leave the duelling to someone else? Wouldn't want our little prince to get hurt."

"You've got to stop calling me little!" he pouted and you couldn't help pinching his cheeks in affection.

"Oh, but you are little," you cooed. "You're so very little."

Luke grumbled your name sternly, and you laughed again, already in better spirits.

The great hall of King's Landing was ablaze with life and festivity. The air was filled with a symphony of chattering nobles, their voices blending together in a lively hum. The room echoed with laughter, gossip, and the occasional clinking of goblets, creating a vibrant backdrop to the grand event.

The hall itself was a sight to behold. Tall, arched ceilings stretched overhead, adorned with exquisite tapestries depicting scenes of Targaryen history. Soft candlelight bathed the space, casting a warm and inviting glow upon the gathered guests. The flickering flames danced upon the polished surfaces, reflecting in the shimmering armour of knights and the elaborate gowns of noble ladies. Long tables adorned with elaborate centrepieces and sumptuous feasts lined the hall, laden with platters of roasted meats, trays of fresh fruits, and delicate pastries. The tantalizing scents wafted through the air, mingling with the fragrance of perfumes and the rich aromas of fine wines. The air itself seemed to carry a sense of indulgence as if every breath was infused with the anticipation of revelry and celebration. The hopes and aspirations of potential suitors, the desires of ambitious families, and the excitement of a long-awaited reunion all converged in the great hall.

Nobles and courtiers, clad in their finest attire, mingled and exchanged pleasantries. Their colourful garments, embellished with intricate embroidery and delicate jewels, added to the opulence of the scene. Laughter rang out, accompanied by the occasional flirtatious whispers and stolen glances toward the newly arrived young prince.

Prince Daeron Targaryen sat upon the elevated dais, his family flanking him on either side. His presence commanded attention, drawing gazes from all corners of the hall. His posture was impeccable, his back straight and his chin held high, and his eyes scanned the crowd with a mixture of curiosity and expectation. As each of his prospective wives was introduced, Daeron's gaze fixed upon her, his expression charming and polite. He listened attentively to their names and the descriptions of their families, his demeanour respectful and gracious. Though his duty was to find a suitable match, there was a flicker of anticipation in his eyes as if he awaited the presence of someone special.

Just as one particular noble lady was stepping forward to be presented, the herald's voice echoed through the great hall.

"Announcing the arrival of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and her family!"

The grand entrance of Rhaenyra and her entourage commanded the attention of all present. Daeron's gaze shifted instinctively, his eyes seeking out the captivating figure of his niece. The noble lady, momentarily forgotten, hesitated mid-sentence, her words drowned out by the flurry of excitement and murmurs that filled the hall.

Daeron's heart quickened at the sight of you, his eyes locking with yours, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away. The noble ladies, the festivity, everything paled in comparison to your presence. He had not seen you in years, but the time apart had only enhanced your beauty and grace. Your hair cascaded down your back, framing a face that bore a striking resemblance to the Rogue Prince who led the procession with your mother. Your eyes sparkled with a lively intelligence, and your gentle demeanour held an irresistible allure. That was until your eyes hardened and when your gaze turned away from his with a barely concealed sneer, he felt his heart plummet.

King Viserys Targaryen, seated at the head of the dais, greeted his daughter with a warm and open smile. His eyes lit up with joy and pride as Rhaenyra approached, the years apart momentarily forgotten in the embrace they shared. As Rhaenyra stepped back, her gaze shifted to her father, and the smile that graced his face widened further. The aging king's eyes were drawn to you, his beloved granddaughter, who stood beside her parents. There was a mix of tenderness and nostalgia in his gaze as he took in your features, seeing glimpses of his late wife, Queen Aemma, in them.

When he uttered your name, it was filled with warmth.

"It warms my heart to see you once more. You grow more radiant with each passing day, just as your mother did," he pulled you into an embrace.

"It is an honour to see you again, Grandsire!" you grinned and then presented him with the present you had been working on during your entire journey.

The parchment you handed to him depicted both King Viserys and Queen Alicent. A royal portrait of sorts, done in charcoal. Your grandsire's eyes widened with delight as he took the sketch in his hands. His weathered fingers traced the lines and curves, his expression filled with a mixture of joy and melancholy.

"Oh, my dearest," he said, his voice tinged with emotion, "this is a gift beyond measure."

He then turned to his wife, who stood by his side, and held up the sketch for her to see. A smile adorned her lips as she admired the work, her eyes shimmering with affection as she thanked you.

Eventually, the clamour subsided and Rhaenyra and her family took their seats at the grand table, finding their places on the dais. By some twist of fate, you found yourself seated between Daeron and your brother Jace. You settled into your seat and turned yourself so that you were facing your brother mostly, wanting to avoid speaking to your uncle for as long as you could.

Once everyone had been seated, King Viserys stood again, raising his goblet high to catch the attention of all those gathered in the grand hall. The room fell silent, and the flickering candlelight reflected in his eyes, revealing a mix of pride, nostalgia, and a touch of sadness.

"My esteemed guests, noble lords and ladies. Tonight, we celebrate not only the return of my son, Prince Daeron Targaryen but also his journey of growth and learning in Oldtown. By the end of tonight's event, it is my fervent hope that Daeron shall find a bride, a woman who will stand by his side as he takes his rightful place in the realm. Let this be an occasion for new beginnings and the forging of alliances that shall strengthen House Targaryen and the Seven Kingdoms."

Your heart sank at your grandfather's words. The affirmation that Daeron's search for a bride was the purpose of this grand celebration struck you with a wave of unexpected pain but you pushed it away and kept a placid smile pasted on your face. You turned your attention to your brother, seemingly engrossed in conversation with his own betrothed, Baela.

"Jace, my dearest brother," you whispered, nudging him with your elbow.

Jace turned to you with a raised eyebrow, "What is it now? You're being suspiciously polite."

"I am always polite, how dare you?"

"You want something, don't you? C'mon spit it out, what is it?"

You grinned, "May I borrow your handkerchief? My hands are in desperate need of cleansing from the clutches of charcoal."

"You shouldn't have been scribbling away then," he eyed your stained hands with amusement.

"Oh, come on. Please," you begged, tugging at his sleeve.

"But I just had it washed."

"Oh, brother, surely you can spare your dear sister a clean handkerchief to save her from the grips of artistic messiness. Think of it as an act of kindness."

Jace huffed, reluctantly reaching into his pocket and producing the handkerchief, "Fine, but promise me you won't turn it into another work of art."

"I would never do that!"

"Mhmm, and what happened to the last few I lent to you?"

"I don't even have any drawing instruments right now. I promise, dear brother, it shall remain unscathed. You have my word."

You accepted the handkerchief with a grateful nod, laughter bubbling forth at the sight of Jace's disgruntled expression. With a swift and discreet motion, you wiped away the charcoal smudges, returning your hands to their former cleanliness. You handed the handkerchief back to your brother, who grumbled good-naturedly, but with a playful glimmer in his eyes.

As Daeron watched you engage in laughter and conversation with your siblings, a pang of hurt settled within his chest. The tinge of disappointment lingered as he longed for your attention and connection and the weight of his unspoken emotions was not lost on his older brother, Aegon.

Aegon, noticing Daeron's gaze fixed on you, couldn't resist the opportunity to tease him. He leaned closer, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, and nudged Daeron playfully.

"You seem awfully distracted, dear brother. Is it the beautiful ladies or something else that's caught your eye?"

"It's nothing, I'm just lost in thought."

"Lost in thought about a certain someone, perhaps?" Aegon teased, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Daeron scowled, "Leave it, Aegon."

"Well, well, dear brother, it seems our enchanting niece has indeed stolen your attention. You've had your eye on her since she arrived."

Daeron's cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. He tried to deflect Aegon's teasing, but the slight quirk of his brother's eyebrow told him that Aegon wasn't about to let him off the hook so easily.

"I said leave it, Aegon. It's none of your business," he muttered defensively, forcing his eyes away from where they lingered on the curve of your jaw.

"All right, all right. I won't tease you anymore. But I have to admit, I think she is quite lovely myself."

Daeron gave him a withering look, making him laugh even harder. He took a swig from his goblet of wine and leaned in close.

"You know, you have this entire hall of ladies to choose from. I don't think you should mind if I were to take a liking to our dear niece here."

"Don't you dare-"

"Don't be selfish, dear brother."

"Aegon," Daeron warned.

Aegon leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smirk, "Well, if that's the case, then you might wish to speak to her yourself. This feast may have been held to find you a wife, but she sure is garnering a lot of attention."

He gestured to the various noble lords and knights who had their eyes fixed on your graceful movements. Daeron turned his attention back to the banquet in annoyance, choosing to ignore the surge of jealousy that rose within him. He watched you laugh with a scowl on his face. He wanted to be the one making you smile like that, to be the one sitting next to you and sharing in your conversation, but you were pretending as though he didn't even exist, never once meeting his gaze, no matter how desperately he sought you out.

As Daeron sat there, nursing his wounded pride, a group of noble ladies approached him with flirtatious smiles and sparkling eyes. Their gowns swirled around them as they curtsied and extended their hands, inviting him to join them.

One of the ladies, a vivacious brunette with a playful tone, spoke up, her voice laced with excitement, "Prince Daeron, would you do us the honour of sharing a dance with us?"

Daeron glanced at the ladies, his initial reluctance warring with the desire to distract himself from his lingering disappointment. With a sigh, he relented and rose from his seat, offering a polite smile.

"I would be delighted, ladies. Allow me to make this evening memorable for us all."

You watched him leave, a mix of bitterness and sadness welling up within you. You had expected this, but now as you witnessed him embracing the company of other ladies, you couldn't help the surge of tears that forced their way into your eyes. You scolded yourself inwardly for feeling this way, knowing you had no right to claim his attention solely for yourself.

Berating yourself, you forced a smile and attempted to push your discontent aside. You knew that Daeron was at the age where a potential wife was being sought for him. These noble ladies, giggling and vying for his attention, were merely following the customs of courtship as they tried to make themselves as appealing as possible to him. Each attempted to capture his interest with their charms, their eyes sparkling with hope. They swirled around him, showcasing their graceful movements and engaging in light-hearted banter.

Daeron, despite his initial reluctance, allowed himself to be swept into the dance, making polite conversation and offering charming smiles to each lady in turn. He appreciated their efforts and acknowledged their beauty, but his heart remained distant, his thoughts still preoccupied with you. He thought he caught your gaze from across the room, but he couldn't be sure and he didn't want to delude himself into thinking that you actually cared.

It was only the trembling of your lips that gave you away and when you discreetly excused yourself to rush out of the great hall, Daeron abandoned his dance partner mid-step and made his way swiftly towards you. The noble ladies he left behind exchanged confused glances, their voices hushed in curiosity as they watched him break away from their company. He followed the path you had taken, emerging into one of the adjoining dimly lit corridors where you stood with your back toward him. Your shoulder shook as you clamped your hands over your mouth to stifle the sob building inside.

Daeron stood at a distance, not sure what to do or say. You must have sensed his presence though, because you straightened your back and quickly brushed away any lingering tears before turning to give him your brightest smile.

"My prince. Should you not be back in the great hall? You know, dancing with your future wife?"

Daeron frowned, "What future wife?"

"One of those ladies is meant to be your future wife, isn't she? So shouldn't you be spending time with her?" you snapped.

In the solitude of the corridor, Daeron's eyes flickered with hurt as your words cut through him. He had hoped for a warm reunion, a chance to express his feelings and seek understanding. Instead, he found himself facing your unexpected harshness.

"Is that what you truly want? To see me dance with others while you remain distant? Can you not find it in your heart to tell me why you're upset? Why you've been avoiding me?" he pleaded.

"Oh, that's rich, coming from you!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean!"

"How am I supposed to know when you won't say anything!"

A fresh wave of tears welled up in your eyes. How dare he be this audacious. He was pretending to be oblivious.

"You think I've been avoiding you? That I've willingly chosen to keep my distance? Perhaps you should look inward, Daeron. You never responded to a single one of the letters I wrote to you. You went to Oldtown and forgot all about me!" your voice broke, the tears running freely down your face now.

"Letters?"

"Do not pretend not to know!"

Daeron rushed toward you, entwining his fingers with yours, eyes boring into yours as he said your name.

"What letters? I swear I never received any letters. I thought it was you who had forgotten about me."

"Liar! I do not care if you did not care enough to respond but at least do not be a coward and pretend not to know about them altogether."

"Listen-"

"It doesn't even matter," you interrupted, wrenching your hands away from him. "I stopped writing last year, anyways."

"You...you wrote to me for six years?" Daeron's voice was soft in disbelief.

"What, is that supposed to be surprising? Not all of us can be callous and cruel like you. You were my friend, of course I wrote to you!"

Daeron took your hand once again, placing it on his chest so that you could feel his racing heartbeat, voice tinged with desperation.

"I swear on all the gods, the old and the new, that I never received a single one of your letters. I would never willingly ignore you or dismiss your words. Please, you have to believe me."

"Stop! Just, stop," you pleaded. "Go back to your dancing and select a wife from amongst the ladies grandsire has chosen for you."

You wanted to believe Daeron, to let go of the resentment that had consumed you, but the wounds ran deep, and trust was a fragile thread between you two.

"Why would I lie about this?" he implored again, stepping closer. "I have spent every moment longing for you, questioning why you had grown distant. If I had known about your letters, I would have responded, you know that."

"I find that I do not know you at all, so forgive me for disagreeing."

"Do not say that. Please do not say that. I have loved you since we were children!" Daeron's words came tumbling out of his mouth, making both of you freeze.

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes widening at his confession. Your anger and doubt began to crumble, replaced by a mix of astonishment and a glimmer of hope. You listened intently, heart yearning for the words you had always longed to hear.

"I cannot imagine marrying any of those women in the grand hall," he continued, his voice earnest. "Not when my heart has always been set on you. You are the one I have dreamed of, the one who has occupied my thoughts and fueled my hopes. Please, believe me when I say that you are the one I want to spend my life with."

Your breath was shaky as you struggled to absorb the weight of Daeron's confession.

"I... I don't know what to say," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and bewilderment.

"Say you feel the same way. Say you love me too," he begged.

"I...you truly meant what you said?'

"I have never meant anything more in my entire life," he gently brushed away the tears from your cheeks, his touch filled with tenderness. "I understand your doubts and fears. But I want you to know that I am committed to proving my love to you, to mending what has been broken between us. I will do whatever it takes to earn your trust again and make you feel cherished."

"I...I don't know."

Daeron nodded, his eyes filled with unwavering patience and determination.

"I will give you all the time you need. I will be here, waiting for you, for all of eternity, if that is what it takes. Just know that you hold my heart in the palm of your hands, and nothing will change that."

You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped your lips as you met his desperate gaze.

"I do not think you have all of eternity, my prince. Grandsire expects you to be betrothed before the night is up."

"Whether or not I am betrothed by the end of tonight depends entirely on the lady I hope to be betrothed to. The decision is hers entirely."

You sniffled, "And who might such a lucky lady be?"

Daeron thumbed your cheekbone affectionately, tracing his fingers up your jaw and then settling them to cup your face. His other hand dropped to your waist, pulling you closer.

"There will never be another lady. Not when I belong to you wholly."

You sighed, leaning into his touch with your eyes closed. When you opened them, you were met with his startling intensity.

"I suppose I might be inclined to accept," you murmured, arms coming up to wrap around his neck.

His lips curled upward in a beam, "Is that a yes then?"

"Yes."

Daeron paused for a moment, his lips a hairsbreadth from yours, giving you a chance to pull away, before they met yours in a gentle kiss. Your lips moved in perfect harmony, a dance of affection and yearning. As your kiss deepened, Daeron's arms wrapped around you, pulling you impossibly closer, as if afraid to let go, his body pressing you into the cool stone wall behind you.

When you pulled away eventually, he pressed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes reverently as he whispered in the space where your breaths mingled.

"I am yours. I will be yours for all of eternity."

#daeron x reader #daeron targaryen #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #alicent hightower #hotd fanfic #jacaerys velaryon #game of thrones #aemond imagine #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen imagine #angst #hurt comfort #hotd daeron #daeron the daring #lucerys valeryon

[mylittlesecrethaven]

Endeavor Really Fucked Up: Let's Talk Family

Yes, I'm jumping on this well worn train. I don't read the manga, so don't came at me with that. I'm not a licensed therapist nor am I the friend group therapist, so don't take my word on any of this.

Alright, let's start from oldest to youngest, going with Rei first. (I'm doing Endeavor last cause he's a special little guy and I wanna do him last) Alright, welp, Endeavor really fucked her up. He wasn't the only problem though. Her family was kinda riding on her. She wanted to help her family out, but she just couldn't take it in the end. With the constant berating from Endeavor and having her own child turned against her, yeah, of course she lost it. She couldn't stand her own children! Yeah, she broke, but she did try. She's also trying to (somewhat?) fix it. She faked it for so long and now she's coming back as herself. She's strong. But yeah, anyone would break with what Endeavor did. That's wayyyy too much mental strain on someone with little to no emotional support backing them.

Touya, oh Touya. You sweet little boy. Endeavor had so much hope for you, and you so desperately craved his attention. However, once your family started to grow and your own father told you that the dream he had forced onto you, that you had taken fully to heart because you knew nothing else, was no longer something you could achieve, you no longer had the attention you so desired. You craved it so much it made you crazy. You just wanted his attention again, but he refused to give it to you. You looked up to your father, so you took after him, which is why you turned on Rei. You had lost both your mother and father, and you had no trust in Fuyumi, so you turned to Natsuo, but he didn't help either. Your emotional support was ripped out from under you and you couldn't take it. Rei tried, but you were too far gone.

Fuyumi my dear sweet child. You're a school teacher, yes? That may be because you want to help other kids with their early life as yours was.... how to describe it? Shit. That's all it was. Shit. You saw almost everything. Rei's collapse, Touya's collapse, and you watched Endeavor do it all, your own father. However, you were desperate for a normal childhood. You wanted everything to be held together, so you tried your best to pretend. But pretending can only go so far. Sometimes you can't hold the facade. But you did well. Even with it all. I commend you, but you do need a break.

Natsuo, Natsuo, Natsuo. You're early life wasn't super bad. But once you found out about your father, I'm guessing you took the hate (she didn't really hate him but that's the closest word I have) that Fuyumi was hiding and combined it with your own, almost doubling your own hatred. You couldn't stand your dad as you got older. It's understandable.

Now then, the tiny star of our show, Shoto. Kettle boy. You grew up knowing that your sibling's were having fun and you wanted to be like them, but you were alienated. You were treated like a tool. You never got breaks, and you witnessed first hand your mother falling from her chair. I'm surprised you turned out so well. You even learned to tolerate your father faster than Natsuo. Good job to you. You deserve a good snack.

Now, Endeavor. Yes, he's here because he fucked himself over. Ol' Endy-deavor cause so much pain to the son he thought he lost, that when he came back, that pain was thrown back at him. He had a mid-life (idk how old he is) crisis and basically understood immediately that he really fucked up. He realized his family was shattered and he himself had no emotional support. He had driven that away. But, they decided to help him out, they wanted to try to fix what was broken (get the reference?), and they wanted him to try again as well. It'll be slow, but I'm rooting for y'all.

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #endeavor

[killingvoices]

I'm 25 today so here are a couple things I've learned: (I don't know if I should put a trigger warning on this but I will in the one I'm sure needs one)

-Don't cheat on your partner, going to therapy is emotionally cheaper than betraying your loved one, trust me.

-Lie on your resume but not too much, lie enough to get the job, but not too much you don't know what you're doing.

-Put in a little effort, I know life is tiring, I know you're depressed and anxious and emotionally fucked, I know you have no energy and you just want to die, but you're not there yet and it makes you feel worse because you're kinda faking it (you're not) I know you haven't cleaned the cat's litter in days, I know your meals consist of diet coke and cigarettes. Trust me, I know, I get it. But try to make an effort and brush your teeth, finish that power point your boss won't leave you alone about, go take a walk, don't talk to anyone you don't want to talk to, but put in the effort to make yourself feel better. Sadness is addictive, depression is a sadistic bitch, don't let them win, do everything in your power to fight those fuckers but don't feel bad if the sadness doesn't go away, we're stimulating your desire to be okay, not your happiness, you need different tools for that, and I'm not qualified to suggest anything, but I can tell you that by refusing to be sad (even if you are) you keep something inside you alive, something that desperately wants to die because it's fighting against a chemical imbalance in your brain, but do everything you can to keep that shit alive, on fire, and ready to fight. Brushing your teeth might not seem like a huge step, but if that's all you can manage do it, it'll help to keep yourself afloat.

-If you're not white, accept you're not white, it took me years to accept the fact that I was dying and strengthening my hair to change my ethnicity. Accept who you are, accept you'll never have as much opportunities and work around that, but if you keep pretending there's equality in the world, you'll end up very, very, exhausted, especially if you're like me and you weren't born in the USA or Europe.

-Learn a second language, it can be whichever you want, but do it, it'll show you the world doesn't revolve around you, people have different cultures, beliefs, and ideas, learn another language and don't believe every single stereotype Disney and MTV forced down our throats.

(I wonder if kids nowadays know what MTV was)

Trigger warning (SA)

-IMPORTANT. If you see a disgusting creep following a little girl, or trying to talk to her or whatever the fuck, DO SOMETHING, call the dickhead out, don't you dare look the other way. There's bodycam footage on YouTube of police rescuing a little girl from a rapist, the video is the most disgusting shit I've ever seen and I could phisicaly feel the pain that little girl felt, but the emotional and mental destruction is unimaginable. DO SOMETHING DONT YOU DARE BE INDIFFERENT IF YOU SEE THIS IS MORE COMMON THAN YOU THINK. (I'd like to clarify you don't actually see the abuse happening on camera, you see the aftermath when the police enters the room and the girl is completely blurred, but the room conditions aren't and that's what I'm referring to) YELL, FIGHT, SCREAM DO WHATEVER YOU GOTTA DO TO PROTECT CHILDREN. Trans kids and little girls are particularly at risk but this applies to little boys and women of all ages as well, pay attention to your surroundings, if you see a kid, make sure no one is looking at them, you can spot creeps easily just by doing this.

-Don't believe a word coming out of the mouth of a priest, have your faith, exercise your religion but remember your faith is profitable for a lot of people, don't let them use you.

-Get over your drinking phase as soon as you can, I developed an alcohol problem at age 19, but I started drinking at 11, I don't drink anymore, let go of that shit, learn to have fun without dehydrating your neurons.

-If you're going to do drugs, remember: drugs should be consumed in a safe environment, with people you trust. You don't want to do acid with someone who might make a bad trip worse. Weed is harmless but you might not be if you're tripping. First time I did acid, my brother in law started tripping thinking we were gonna kill him, he was about to grab a knife to "defend" himself, but our friend who gave us the acid walk him through the trip and calmed him down (he did the same with me cause I was absolutely sure my heart was gonna stop at any second). So, to sum up, is not a game, be responsible. I feel like I should also say, stay away from hard drugs. Acid, mushrooms and weed are fine. But none of what I said applies to heroin, ketamine, fentanyl, meth, etc. That shit will ruin your life. You're not in an episode of Skins, be careful.

-Please don't date older people, this is debatable but I'll just say, don't put yourself in a position in which your partner has more power than you. The last thing you want is to become dependant on your partner, trust me, is hours of uncomfortable therapy to get out of that mindset and I wouldn't wish it upon anybody.

-Don't be afraid to leave.

#i wonder how ill feel about this in 5 years #25 feels like a milestone but i know 30 is the real eye opener #freaking put but glad im getting older

[tojigasm]

hi!!!! may i request an au with established relationship with nanami, they have been married for a long time and reader wants to ask for a baby but is too shy

softdom!nanami quickly notices and agrees >////< and now he’s babbling and praising reader and tells her how he’s going to put a baby in her HMGGGNG basically got a baby fever

also reader is very shy and meek and cute >< thats all!!! i love ur works btw <3

Of course xoxo! and thankyou so much, you’re so sweet!! I wrote this kinda fast so I apologize if it sounds rushed. I constantly have baby fever so this was a fun one, I hope you enjoy!! <3

Nanami was everything you could ever ask for in a husband. He was patient and aimed to please you, always at your beck and call. You were never afraid to tell Nanami anything, he was your best friend... but when it came to asking the stoic man to pump a fucking load into you, suddenly you couldn't find the courage to crawl into his lap and nuzzle his neck while begging him to stuff you with his cock until you were pregnant with his child.

It was hard to watch the world move around you, your friends beginning to have their own children, and articles being put out about the next celebrity whos expecting. It felt like torture and worst of all, you felt as though you couldn't talk to your own husband.

You smiled as you watched your friend strap her 6-month old baby into his carrier, rubbing the baby's tummy gently, Imagining it was you running your soft fingers over your own child.

Turning to look at you, she cleared her throat, her face flat.

"You gonna stop staring or ask to hold him?"

Your eyes widened, focus moving between her and the baby in his carrier. Heat rushed to your face, you had gotten caught day dreaming again.

"Uh, sure." You mentally slapped yourself

"Sure you wanna hold him or?" Her words fell into a chuckle as he unbuckles her baby, picking him up and moving him towards you which you graciously accepted with both hands. Bringing the small baby to your chest you ran a hand over the curve of his small head, fingers running over the small hair.

"Thankyou." You whispered, completely enamored with the baby in your arms, cooing softly as he reached out to you with a small hand.

Your friend watched you from her seat on the couch, chin resting in her palm, watching you swoon over her baby. She took a sigh, "So... when's Nanami gonna put one in you?"

“What?” You lifted your head to look at her in confusion, “I-I don’t think I get what you mean.” turning back to her son and stroking his cheek with your finger, a giggle coming from him. 

“Oh come on y/n, I know you want one. don't pretend like you don't glaze over in awe over clothes and blankets at the Gap when we go, or stare at mothers and their children, o-or even now,” she stammered over herself, throwing her hands out towards you to make a point of how you delicately held her child to your chest in a motherly way. “You’re holding him like he’s your own kid.” she laughed in a scoff. 

“I guess I’ve been thinking about one...” you moved to cradle the baby closer to you. “I just, I don’t know if Nanami wants one. I don’t wanna bother him with it.” you admitted, head falling downwards to focus on the baby, tears threatening to spill over your cheeks. 

“You guess?” She leaned back, repeating your words; hearing her say it really did solidify how fucking stupid you sounded. you guessed. you guessed? no, you fucking wanted a baby. 

“I say you talk to him.” she turned away from you to look out the window, scratching the back of her head absentmindedly. 

you nodded and kissed the baby’s forehead, “Okay, I’ll tell him tonight.” 

You did not tell him. 

You really wanted to tell him, to spill your wants and desires in his warm arms, to have him fuck you until your legs were numb and cum poured from your small pussy. You really, truly, wanted to tell him. but as soon as you had said your goodbyes to your friend and stepped inside the glass door of your shared home, your original plan in telling him jumped out the window - literally fucking left. 

“Hey,” Nanami called and snapped his fingers in front of you. not realizing you had been staring at the plate of food on the table in front of you. 

“Oh, sorry, I must've been thinking about work.” you lied and picked up your fork, digging into the meal aggressively, hoping Nanami would forget about your little space out. 

Nanami hummed and went back to eating, his hand on your thigh, squeezing as a way to let you know he was there for you, whenever you were ready.

That's the way it always was - always has been. The same routine, every day and every fucking night. Every night you grasp at the right words to explain what you want and always leave the table to go to bed, wrapped in Nanami’s arms. It’s evil. Evil because you love Nanami but this one single thing seemed to torture you every time you tried to speak about it. Burning your tongue and cutting your lips the second you opened your mouth to say “Nanami, I want to have your baby.”

Locking the door behind you and slipping off your shoes, you made your way into the kitchen where Nanami sat at the table, two plates prepared - the steam long gone. 

“How was work, sweetie?” Nanami asked, uncrossing his arms to place them on the table. taking a seat at your designated chair, you sighed and looked down at your hands in your lap.

you felt like crying. first, work was absolute hell for you today and now you have to deal with the those nagging thoughts, those evil, evil thoughts telling you that Nanami is too busy, that Nanami doesn’t need another baby to take care of, that Nanami doesn’t want a baby with you-

“So, are you gonna tell me what’s been bothering you or are you gonna just going to keep hiding things from your husband?” He asked with a smirk, the underside of his arm facing the ceiling as it laid on the table; the flaxen lights of the ceiling lamps made of sea glass bottles reflecting off his Rolex. 

You nodded defeatedly, too tired to let your burnt tongue and cut lips stop your from going on a mantra- 

“What’s going on love?” He reached to a hand that sat in your lap, pulling it up to his lips, kissing your soft skin gently. “Tell me Nanami what’s wrong so he can make it better.” 

His voice brought tears to your eyes. how fucking stupid were you to believe Nanami didn’t love you, to believe that he wouldn’t want to hear your concerns and wants. you began to cry silently.

“Baby, baby, baby” Nanami pulled you into his lap, cupping your head to his chest as you sobbed, running a hand down your back trying to soothe your small whimpers. 

“M’sorry” You pushed yourself back from his chest, wiping your nose with the sleeve of your sweater to which Nanami pulled your hand away from your face, kissing your nose softly. 

“Tell me what’s wrong honey.” He pleaded and tilted his head, trying to get a better look at your face. 

“I- I just- I don’t-” You tried, you really did try, not knowing where to start. 

“C’mon, deep breaths for me.” He placed his head on your chin, grounding you to his firm body. 

you sighed and took a few shaky breaths “I want a baby.” you said, bracing for the quick “no.” 

a hum vibrated in Nanami’s chest, “I thought so, but I didn’t want to make you feel like i was pressuring you if you weren’t ready.” he rubbed your arm comfortingly.  

you couldn't cry anymore, opting for small sniffles. 

“Does my baby want a baby?” he asked, craning his neck to look at you, bringing a hand up to wipe the tears from your cheeks. 

you nodded and took a deep breath, “I do Nanami, I really do. I can’t take it anymore; all of my friends have these cute little babies and every where I turn there's another baby announcement from the media... I want a baby so bad Ken.” you turned your head to tuck into Kento’s chest, his hand coming behind your head to rub at your muscles. 

Nanami was quiet at your words, listening intently to your soft voice. “I’ll give you a baby sweetie” he finally said, scratching your back through the fabric of your sweater. 

you jumped back at his sudden statement, mascara covering your cheeks and lashes stuck together by salty tears. “Really?” you wiped your eyes with the back of your sleeve, Kento pulling your hand away “Don’t do that love, you’ll hurt your eyes.” he leaned in to kiss the tears himself.

The rest of dinner was smooth, you sitting in Nanami’s lap as he fed you and himself, rubbing the skin of your thigh gently as you took bites of what he supplied you. “Eat your dinner, then we make a baby.” He placed another spoonful at your lips. 

Suddenly, eating dinner had never been so easy before, wharfing down bite after bite quickly, “Slow down,” Nanami scolded lightly, scratching your back as you swallowed another bite, “If you don’t relax we’re not doing anything tonight.” 

too afraid to miss up on your opportunity to have your baby, you slowed down considerably and ate in silence with your husband. 

“Oh, oh, Ken, please.” You moaned, cheek pressed into the gray satin pillow beneath your face. your hands held yourself open for him, spreading the lips of your pussy as Kento licked the flesh of your cunt. 

“So gorgeous.” He stuck a finger inside of you, curling it upwards and using his other hand to push you into an arch. “Oh, good girl.” Nanami moved behind you to line the head of his cock up with your pussy. 

“Please, Nanami.” You pleaded, catching his eyes to which he softened. 

“Shh, sweetheart, I know.” he pushed himself into you teasingly, removing his cock to rub up and down your folds before pushing himself back in. “oh Jesus.” he draped himself over your back and began to pump himself into you. 

you moaned deeply, body moving forward with each of his thrusts. “oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck” you cried. 

Nanami cupped your chin with his hand and turned your face to give you a kiss, straightening himself up to thrust deeper into you, “drop your arms, sweetie, it’ll be more comfy.” his hips hitting the plush of your ass. 

you moaned at Nanami’s ability to be balls deep in you and still care about your wellbeing. you reached behind you to grab onto a hand that was holding your waist, “Please, need you.” 

Kento leaned over your body again, slowly helping you down to rest on your forearms. “M’ right here,” his thrusts got rougher, balls hitting your pussy, the sound was nearly pornographic. 

Suddenly Nanami pulled out and helped flip you over, cupping your legs and bringing them up over his shoulders as he sat himself in a squat. Slowly, he lowered himself back into your tight cunt, groaning as you clenched around him, desperate for his cock. 

pounding into you his head dropped to watch you moan, face screwing shut in pleasure. “Oh my fuck” you tilted your head downwards, heads bumping one another and resting against each other as you looked between the two of your bodies. the sight alone nearly made you cum. 

Nanami’s cock was slipping in and out, your slick glistening off his skin. “Gonna put a baby in you” Kento’s voice made you look up at him, nodding aggressively. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, fill me up please.” you reached up to pull him into a kiss, his thrusts becoming erratic. “fill me up, please, please, please, put a baby in me, wanna make you a daddy.” you warbled, drool spilling from your swollen lips. “M’ gonna cum.” 

blonde strands of hair flipped back and forth as he thrusted into you “fuck baby, gonna cum.” he leaned down and kissed you deeply, pushing himself all the way to the hilt and letting his cum fill you. 

you shivered as you felt the hot spurts of cum paint your insides, bringing Nanami closer to you as he slowly dropped your legs, moving them gently as so not to hurt you. “You okay?” he asked, petting the top of your head gently. 

you nodded and wrapped your arms around him as he turned the two of you, jumping slightly as his cock hit something when you shifted, 

“Shh.” he cradled you to his chest, kissing the top of your forehead. 

“Can’t wait to make you a daddy.” you said quietly, breath growing heavier as sleep took over you. 

“Oh yeah?” he smirked at the tiredness in your voice. 

“mhm yeah.”

#tojisbabygirl writes #nanami kento x reader #jjk #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen #kento nanami #nanami kento #kento nanami x reader

[link-is-a-dork]

You know something, you've had a love of the Zelda series since you were a little girl, ever since Ocarina of Time came out, but I don't think I've ever asked you why you, specifically, love it so much. Like, what made this your lifelong obsession when it comes to gaming? I guess it just never occurred to me because when we were kids, it was just as much a part of my life as it was yours, so it's like one of those "it's all I've known" kind of things.

Rose you opened up a can of worms that even I wasn't ready for. You expected a few sentences? Nah you get an essay with more effort put into than anything I've ever done in school.

I don't even think I covered it all.

Your interests as a kid can heavily influence your interests as an adult. I grew up with Ocarina and Majora and just kept following the series.

I don't know I guess it is a "it's all I've known" thing for me as well but it's one of those VERY few game series I follow adamantly. Kingdom Hearts is another one I love for the characters and their personalities and connections, but that was part of my life into my mid teen years, not since I was 5 like LoZ (and Resident Evil).

I don't know. I just really enjoy playing them, the simple stories with a random gut punch of depth here and there, the characters, the familiar gameplay with a fun gimmick (let's stop pretending gimmicks are inherently bad).

Link may be a blank slate of a character but sometimes he shows his own personality, while subtle at times. Link is a hero you can't help but admire. He's diligent in some games, but a goofball in others. He's a loving brother and grandson, embarking on a personal journey to save his sister and he finds himself on a quest to save the world as well. Or he may be skilled yet gentle warrior with a soft spot for children and animals, a farm boy chosen by the gods, destined for greatness.

The Hero of Time, a young, lonely hero with many faces who can't save everyone no matter how hard he tries. Forgoing his own happiness, he carries the burden of the dead to bring happiness where he can and prevent the end of the world after already doing it once.

A lazy schoolboy with impeccable skill at swordplay and lofting flight, dealing with everything from school bullies to the embodiment of evil itself. His love for his best friend being his motivation.

A teenager who just wants to go home, shipwrecked on an island that only exists in the dreams of a god. His desire to leave supersedes the lives of people who weren't even real but the bonds he made with them were.

An amnesic who's either a trash gremlin who eats dirt and frogs, running through a thunderstorm buck naked, or a stoic knight, set on sealing the great evil away alongside the princess, as is his duty. His personality is truly your personal choice.

In several cases, Link's motivation is saving someone he loves, be it family or friends, but fate and circumstances have something more in mind for this young man with humble beginnings.

~

Zelda herself is so different each game as well. She may be a dainty princess who seeks help, using what power she can to call to you in the dead of night. A young woman hidden in plain sight, guiding you through your journey even if it isn't obvious to some. A respected child pirate who's got a heart of gold, and captain of a loyal crew at her beck and call. Your best childhood friend who just wants to go to the fair and maybe see a magic rodent.

Your best friend and classmate who will ALWAYS be your Zelda even if she's a god.

A wise ruler who knows surrender will save her people if only for a time until someone on the outside can help, but she is also incredibly adept in battle in her own right, shooting Ganondorf while STANDING ON THE BACK OF A GALLOPING HORSE.

A young woman, pressured by her desperate father into unlocking a power she can't, anxious to help in any way she can. Starting off as an overwhelmed brat and growing closer to her appointed knight, finally unlocking her god given powers when it's seemingly too late. Zelda may not be in the spotlight most times, but she's important.

Your various companions, like them or hate them, are another thing that I like when they're there. Navi, the fairy assigned to guide the Kokiri who doesn't belong, is the only constant on Link's journey in Hyrule, wordlessly parting ways when her job is done. A powerful old man cursed by his own apprentice, Ezlo learns humility throughout your journey and leaves you with a parting gift to remind you of your time together.

A deposed princess angry at the world, Midna is cursed into the form on a catty imp by the very man who stole her rightful place on the throne. When kindness is given to her on her deathbed, her motivation is less about her and more about the lives of her own and Hyrule's people.

An emotionless android by design, Fi is knowledgeable on everything in the world, in the sky and below. During your journey, her stoic disposition is broken only once, as she tells you her understanding of happiness before saying the two words you've heard countless times on your journey, and hides away into the newly forged Master Sword one final time.

~

The antagonists have I less to say about but they're there. Disconnected from reality, Zant is a greedy, false king among a people who have been conditioned to have no selfish desires, only able to usurp the throne by using a power he didn't earn. Ghirahim is an eccentric leader of monsters, a dedicated tool to the evil demon king who started it all. He is a force to be reckoned with who relishes in the suffering of others.

Vaati is an arrogant mage who seeks a magical force to grow more powerful. Skull Kid felt abandoned and forgotten by his friends, so he made new ones and stole an evil relic with more power than he could handle. He had no idea what he was in for, in the end he was not wearing the mask, the mask was wearing him.

Ganondorf's motives for power and control are kind of the same in his every appearance but in Wind Waker at least his motive is understandable. Instead of power for the sake of it, he wanted to help his people, but it seems he approached it in the wrong way and went astray. His greed doomed his people and he was blind to the destruction he caused. My enjoyment of Ganondorf is surface level, not much depth for the most part.

I probably put more into this than necessary but my feelings and interpretations are why I love this series. I love the characters, companions, the settings. The game may primarily focus on swordplay but with all the fun tools at your disposal, you can play how you want.

#ask #answer #missroseyred #2021

[chocoluckchipz]

A Bride for the Prince - 6

A03  ~  < Previous  ~  Next >

The last time Adrien had so much fun at a festival—or even in general, for that matter—was back in his childhood, when he’d passed his days away playing with Marinette during his summer vacations in DuPont. True, Nino and he had shared some amazing times since then, but that could hardly compare because spending time with Marinette was always special, fantastic, and unreasonably enticing. Adrien doubted he could explain it in words; one had to feel it to understand. That she was still as amazing as she was back then was delightful, and Adrien would lie if he'd say that letting this evening end wasn't disappointing.

Getting caught going down Marinette's balcony was another blunder he didn't need or want today.

“You know—” Nino quirked an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest, “—I’m very curious as to how you’re going to explain this.”

Adrien nervously chuckled. “What exactly?”

“You coming out of Marinette’s room through her balcony in the middle of the night.”

Adrien cleared his throat, fixing his clothes back into place. “There is a good reason for that, but before I elaborate, tell me what are you doing here under her balcony?”

“Looking for you actually,” Nino replied. “I’ve been trying to find you since your room was empty when I got back. And what do you know? Here you are escaping a lady's room through her balcony in the middle of the night. Very interesting and, may I point out, extremely scandalous.”

“You know what’s also interesting?” Adrien asked, starting to walk towards his quarters in the opposite part of the castle. “That you’d be looking for me under Marinette’s balcony. Any special reason for that?”

“Only that I glimpsed you two sneaking into the hallways leading to the ladies’ bedchambers a little earlier,” Nino replied. “I followed you, but—”

Adrien halted his walk and turned around. “So that was you? I knew there weren’t supposed to be any guards at that time. You scared us.”

“You disappeared.”

“We hid in her room. And then I went out the balcony to protect Marinette’s honour in case the guard that scared us would come back and see me coming out of her room through the door.”

Nino groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “And the fact that a whole lot more people could've seen you climbing down the balcony never occurred to you? Look around you, Adrien; guards are roaming the grounds and who knows how many people are looking through their windows right now. You don't exactly blend in with the wall with all of the lights around, you know. That's how I spotted you, and that's why I'm here - to kick your royal dumb ass.”

Adrien froze, swearing under his breath.

“What were you thinking, Adrien?” Nino continued to scold. “You’d better be praying no one else saw you Romeo-ing around because, you know, you wanted to help her out, not label her as a whore?”

“I—” Adrien ran his fingers through his hair as he struggled for words. “I don’t know, Nino,” he finally blurted out. “No! I mean I know—Ugh! Okay, I didn't mean I want to get her in trouble. I meant I don't know what I was thinking. I’m not even sure I was thinking. I was—I was just having fun. We’ve always had fun together, so I just—I don't know? Okay? I—I don't—” He groaned and resumed his walk, mumbling under his breath. “Let’s just hope no one else saw me, but if they did, I trust you to think of something to keep them quiet.”

“Where are you going?” Nino asked, following. “I wasn't done with you yet.”

Adrien grumbled, stopping and turning around. “Make it quick. I’m tired.”

“Quit flirting with her.”

“You kidding me, right?” Adrien frowned. “I don't flirt with Marinette.”

Nino quirked an eyebrow. “I've seen you two interact, Adrien. You flirt with her, and may I add, shamelessly. Even Alya was astonished, considering we've never seen you flirt with anyone before.”

“I don't flirt with Marinette, Nino,” Adrien insisted, turning around and resuming his walk. “We’re close friends, and that’s just the way we’ve always been.”

“Then may I suggest you revisit your definition of friendship, Your Highness,” Nino snipped. “This way of interaction between the two of you may have been fine when you were children, but it isn't now. Marinette isn't a little girl anymore, and neither are you a boy with no cares in the world. Have you ever considered that she might fall for your flirts now? Not only will you attract unnecessary attention for her from your father—which, may I remind you, is quite undesirable in this particular situation—but you may actually end up breaking her heart. I'm sure that's not what you want, is it? Or shall I remind you that she's the only one here you can't choose for a bride?”

Adrien stopped walking. “I know that.”

“Then try not to forget,” Nino grumbled. “If you really want to protect her, stay as far away as you can.”

Adrien froze, staring after Nino walking away. Something inside him tightened and rebelled. Nino was wrong. He didn't know Marinette. He didn't know them and their friendship. Adrien wasn't flirting with her, and she wouldn't be falling for him. They were just friends and this… this was just the way they’d always been. That’s why he liked her so much. She was so easy to get along with. No need to pretend or act. He could be himself with her and be accepted unconditionally. In return, she was her adorable self with him, and he loved it. Adrien didn't have a lot of sincere people in his life who couldn't care less about his title, even if unknowingly. He couldn’t just give up on one of them.

However, maybe Nino was right about not attracting his father’s attention to Marinette. He wouldn’t want to get her in trouble. Adrien reached for the lucky charm wrapped around his wrist. Perhaps, Nino was right in this particular aspect, but… this was quite possibly Adrien’s last chance to experience the wonder that was Marinette and her friendship. He doubted that whoever he’d end up marrying would be happy with him having a close female friend… not that it would matter anyway because Marinette would return to DuPont long before his marriage and he’d probably never see her again.

Adrien tightened his grip on his lucky charm. Marinette was one of the best things that had ever happened to him. She was one of his best friends and a reminder of his happier times: a childhood free of all expectations and responsibilities in DuPont. She reminded him of the days his mother was still here with him. Marinette meant more to him than Adrien could express, and soon she'd vanish from his life as fast as she'd reappeared. When that time came, he'd have to place his title and his kingdom ahead of his desires and marry someone appropriate in the eyes of the people for the sake of tradition and his domains.

But not yet.

If only for a short while, Adrien could still indulge in what little he wanted instead of following what others told him to do, something he’d done his whole life. He clenched his fists together, his mind made up. Nino could say whatever he wanted and be right about it all he pleased, but there was no way in hell Adrien could stay away from Marinette right now; neither did he want to. Knowing her, he’d be more likely to break her heart by avoiding her without an explanation than being himself during what little time together they still had. They’d have to be very careful, but if Marinette wished so, Adrien was more than ready to indulge in this unexpected present from destiny as long as they could.

The next day proceeded as usual: Adrien had breakfast with his father, then studied at the library before heading to the gardens to observe the ladies during their late morning walk. Nothing exciting was happening; everyone was up to their everyday routines, and Adrien felt positively bored. A few times, he’d caught a glimpse of Marinette at a distance, but every time she’d seem to come closer, Alya inevitably directed Marinette the opposite way. Not that it mattered much because Nino was right by his side making sure Adrien would stay as far away from Marinette as possible.

“It's for the best,” his friend repeated for the umpteenth time. “For both of you. Believe me.”

“Sure,” Adrien grumbled back, rolling his eyes. “Whatever you say, Nino.”

Lunchtime couldn't come any slower, but when it did, there was another disappointment waiting for Adrien. Due to a sudden offset of a migraine, his father had cancelled his appearance, leaving Adrien to eat alone at a table fit for twenty. With Nino away sharing his lunch with Alya, Adrien finished his meal as fast as he could and, having nothing better to do, put the mask on and headed for the rooms where his potential brides were spending their afternoon reading, sewing, drawing, or practicing whatever craft they enjoyed while trying to be social. That was an activity Adrien hadn't attended yet, and he hoped it would prove to be more helpful with the decision he’d have to make in a few weeks than watching the ladies wander around the gardens.

His eyes found Marinette as soon as he’d entered the chamber; she was drawing in a sketchbook in the corner of the room. Alya was nowhere to be seen, and so Adrien didn't think twice. Hopefully, he'd be able to at least say hello before either Nino or Alya interfered. He only managed to give her a subtle smile before Nathalie Sancoeur, his father's personal assistant, entered the room and demanded attention.  

"His Royal Highness, Prince Adrien," she proclaimed, "will host a royal ball this Sunday.”

A wave of gasps and whispers zoomed through the room. A guard by Nathalie’s side cleared his throat and asked for silence, allowing the older woman to deliver whatever else she had to say in a relatively quiet room. Adrien observed Marinette slowly pale with each word, especially the mentioning of every lady having to dance with the Prince at least once. The moment the door closed behind Nathalie’s back, buzzing filled the room again as ladies rushed to discuss the news.

Out of the corner of his eye, Adrien noticed Alya entering the room. He quickly moved closer to Marinette and whispered, “When can I catch you alone today? Without Alya knowing.”

Marinette thought a moment. “Probably only after the curfew. She hasn’t left me alone much today.”

Adrien tried to remember the guards’ schedule as quickly as he could. “Be ready half an hour past that. I’ll knock thrice.”

“Be ready for what?”

“I’ll take you somewhere,” Adrien said with a wink, “but let’s keep it a secret, so don’t tell anyone, okay?”

With a mischievous smile of her own, Marinette nodded just before Alya reached them.

“Chat Noir?” Alya asked, giving him a look. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Nope.” Adrien grinned. “Don’t mind me. I’m just doing my job guarding the lovely ladies like yourself.”

Alya shifted her attention to Marinette. “What did he say? You look a little pale.”

“That's not him,” Marinette sighed. “Mme Sancoeur just informed us that the first ball will be held in a few days, and I’m not that great with formal dancing, particularly with ‘not stepping on my partner’s feet’ aspect.”

“That's not an issue,” Alya objected, sitting down by her side. “It's just a lack of experience. Don't worry, I’ll teach you as much as I can in the next few days.”

Marinette’s face brightened. “Thank you, Alya. You’re the best.”

Alya nodded. “Don’t mention it. I promised to help you through this, and unlike some people—” she not-so-subtly glared at Adrien, “—I intend to follow through on my promises.”

“Funny finding you here,” Nino chimed in, appearing by Adrien’s side. Leaning close, he whispered into Adrien’s ear. “I leave you for one minute and you fly to a certain someone like a moth to a flame. Your lunches usually last longer. What happened?”

“Someone cancelled on me,” Adrien shrugged, unable to hide his disappointment of being caught by his friend. “So, I decided to spend my time executing my guard duties. Is that a problem? And this was the only free place to stand when I came here, so don’t look at me that way.”

Nino quirked an eyebrow. “How lucky for us then that so many other places have freed since that time, right? Would you mind if we move? You’ve spent more than enough time in this particular spot already.”

“Lead the way, oh great Carapace,” Adrien deadpanned. “You make it seem as if I have a choice.”

“You’ll thank me later,” Nino said in a low voice and headed to where Lady Riposte was looking out of a window to the sparring court, the expression of the utmost boredom and longing on her face. Adrien followed, giving Marinette a quick, apologetic smile before Nino could physically yank him away.

Knowing the guards’ rotations had never been so useful before. Not only did Adrien get to Marinette’s room undetected, but he also had a whole ten minutes to pick her up until the next guard would pass by. As promised, he knocked thrice. Marinette opened immediately. She looked lovely: a light pink dress complimented her delicate figure and that adorable blush on her cheeks beautifully. With her hair down and eyes full of questions, bewilderment, and unwavering trust, Marinette looked absolutely charming.

Before she could say anything, Adrien put a finger to his lips. “We need to keep quiet. Follow me.”

Marinette nodded and stepped out of the room, closing the door as quietly as she could. Taking her hand, Adrien started towards the most magnificent ballroom in the palace and conveniently, the farthest one from all the bedchambers. As a bonus, the guards walked around that faraway corner of the palace only a few times a night which meant that the Crystal Ballroom would give them as much privacy as was possible and the least chance of being discovered.

It took them about fifteen minutes to get there. Opening the door, Adrien couldn't take his eyes off Marinette: her expressions were one of the best things in the world to observe, and he wanted to see her reaction to what she was about to behold. Marinette didn't disappoint as absolute marvel and enchantment descended on her features the very moment she stepped inside the grandiose room.

“You like it?”

“I can’t believe you’re even asking,” Marinette whispered, taking in the interior. The sheer size of the room could leave one speechless, but it was the smart decorating choices that made this space truly magnificent. Huge floor-to-ceiling windows that dominated three of the four walls, allowing for the moonlight and the lights from the gardens to overflow the room, reflecting and sparkling in a multitude of crystals that seemed to be everywhere. A grand balcony, paintings, and wall decorations filled the remaining wall. A dozen grand, crystal-and-candle chandeliers hung from the ceiling and a few candelabras were placed strategically on a floor, so polished one could see their own reflection in it.

Marinette took a few steps farther into the room. “It’s mesmerizing,” she said, her voice breathy. “And so bright even without the light.”

“It's something the late Queen came up with,” Adrien commented with a bittersweet smile. “This was her favourite room in the whole palace, and she'd often spend time here with her husband and their son. However, more often than not, they were so busy during the day that the only time they could come here was after the sun had already gone down.” Adrien paused and walked farther into the room, his gaze focused on the middle as if seeing the scenes of the past. “They loved to dance, but the Queen didn’t want to bother the servants with lighting all the candles just for an hour or two, so she asked them to incorporate crystals all around the room instead. They reflect the moonlight, creating this soft lighting effect, and that gave the King and his Queen just enough visibility to dance. That's why it’s called The Crystal Ballroom.”

“It’s gorgeous,” Marinette whispered.

“Yeah,” Adrien echoed her quietly. “I love this room, and since we don’t need lights to be here, I thought it’d be perfect.”

“Perfect for what?” Marinette looked at him, cocking her head to the side.

“For teaching you dancing, of course.” He winked. “I promised I would, didn’t I?”

Marinette watched him for a few moments. “I- Thank you, but—Alya’s teaching me already.”

“Are you saying you don’t want my help?” Adrien asked with an exaggerated pout.

“No, that’s not it,” Marinette insisted, coming closer. “I just don’t want us to get in trouble, and I don’t think we're allowed to be in here.

“Don’t worry about that,” Adrien assured her. “That’s another reason I brought you to this specific ballroom: no one lives in this part of the castle, so the guards don’t patrol here as often. We have about three hours before the next one will pass by.”

Marinette bit her lip in hesitation. “I don’t know, Adrien. I can’t really afford to be reckless right now no matter how much I like the idea. What if tonight is not our lucky day and we’ll be caught?”

“Then I’ll just pretend I’m the Prince and tell them to forget they ever saw us.”

Marinette almost choked on air, amusement and confusion morphing on her face. “How can you pretend to be the Prince? I'm sure they know how he looks.”

“Yup,” Adrien nodded. “And that's exactly why I can pretend to be him. Because you see...” He leaned over and wiggled his eyebrows, giving her the most mischievous smile he could muster. “Many people have told me that the Prince and I look incredibly alike, and with this mask on my face and dimmed lighting in the room, I doubt that anyone could see the difference in our faces.”

“What about your voices? They’ll know the moment you speak.”

“Not an issue as well,” Adrien smirked. “Prince’s voice is calm and polite, while mine is definitely more fun, but I can impersonate him quite well.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“Nope. I’ve done it before.” Adrien grinned wider. “Worked like a charm every time.”

Marinette squeaked. “Adrien, that's dangerous and reckless. They could throw you in prison for impersonating the Prince.”

Adrien stepped closer and took Marinette’s hand in his. “For you and for the opportunity to teach you dancing, I’ll risk everything I have.” He slowly raised her hands to his lips, not taking his eyes off hers to catch that adorable, flustered expression on her face when he kissed her knuckles. “But seriously,” he added. “As long as we stay quiet, there shouldn't be any issues.”

“But… Alya’s already—”

“Alya can't teach you the way I can,” Adrien interrupted. “She's never attended a ball.”

“And you have?”

Adrien’s smile turned smug. “I might have.”

“But aren’t balls for nobility only?”

“And who said I don’t have noble blood in me?”

“You work as a guard,” Marinette deadpanned. “Your mom was a maid. I didn’t think nobles worked such jobs.”

“You wound me, my Lady.” Adrien dramatically swooned. “My mother was the Queen’s personal assistant. And I’ll have you know that I’m currently on guard’s duty only because the King heightened the security measures for this ‘pick a bride’ event. Otherwise, I serve the Prince himself: a job any noble would consider the greatest of honours. What’s more, we’re more like friends, and I’m doing this whole guard thing because he asked me personally. One of the ladies is to become his future wife. He wants only the best, most trustworthy people around them.”

Marinette quirked a skeptical eyebrow. “Alya told me that was Nino’s job: Prince’s guard, his friend, and everything you’ve just said.”

Adrien nodded. “Yes. Nino’s my partner; one of a few. You didn't think the Prince had only one guard, did you? However—” He took a step toward her, “—that’s not the point. The point is that as shocking as it may sound, I’m a noble, and I have spent hours upon hours practicing the art of dancing. I can teach you much better than Alya ever could, and from your reaction to Nathalie’s announcement, I assume you need all the lessons you can get.”

“I do,” Marinette sighed. “Alya was less than impressed with my skills.”

“Then why don't we stop wasting time and get to it?” Adrien took her hand and pulled her to the middle of the room. There, he stood in front of her and bowed down. “May I have this dance, my Lady?”

“I see you really want to teach me.” Marinette giggled.

“I do.” Adrien nodded. “May I?”

“You may,” she smiled. “Though, I apologize in advance.”

“For what? Dazzling me with your dance moves?”

“For stepping on your feet.”

“I can live through that,” Adrien chuckled. “May I assume that you know the basics?”

“Barely. Only what you’ve taught me back in the day, but I’ll need a refresher.”

“Of course.” Adrien offered her his hand. Marinette took it, placing her other one on the side of his shoulder. Lifting their joined hands, he wrapped his arm around her upper back. Pulling Marinette closer, Adrien stilled, suddenly being very aware of her body’s warmth so close to him. Even in the moonlight, he couldn’t help but notice the beginnings of blush on her cheeks; her big doe eyes in the most beautiful shade of blue; her perfectly-shaped, slightly parted lips; and the scattering of tiny freckles all over the plain of her nose. When they were younger, Adrien had been this close to Marinette multiple times during many of their escapades in DuPont, but none of those times had he felt like this. Something was different because right now it felt like… Adrien didn’t know how to describe it, but none of the countless dance partners he’d had before made him feel this way. None of them caused his breath to hitch and his body to tense. None of them had ever prompted an overwhelming need to hold them like the most valuable treasure in the world.

None of them were Marinette, though.

Then, their dance at the festival a few days ago had felt nothing like this, so… it must be the room then. The Crystal Ballroom and all the memories he’d associated with it. His parents waltzing hours away in the dark, just like them right now. Yes. That's why it felt different. It had to be. This filled with moonlight room that, by the way, did wonders to Marinette's eyes. However pretty they were before, now they sparkled so beautifully Adrien didn't want to look away.

Judging by how Marinette looked at him in return, the way she tensed the moment he’d touched her and how she froze in her place just like him, Adrien suspected Marinette felt just as awkward as he did. And that was something he didn't want to happen. He’d hate to make Marinette uncomfortable.

“I’ll start to count now,” he said, finally breaking the silence and brushing the feeling aside. Whatever it was, he didn't have time to deal with it now. Adrien counted and moved his left leg. Marinette did the same, instantly stepping on his right foot.

“I’m so sorry,” she squeaked and pulled away. “I told you I’ll do that. I always forget which leg to start with.”

“That’s fine.” Adrien smiled. “Okay. Let’s try this again. I start with my left foot forward. You with your right backwards.” He thought for a moment and added, “Think of this like this: we think we’re always right. However, it’s always a good idea to step back from time to time to better see and evaluate the reality.”

“Are you sure you’re only a few years older than me?” Marinette chuckled. “You sound much wiser than that.”

Adrien laughed. “I’ll be twenty soon, but I did have many good teachers to share their wisdom with me.”

“Well, I thank you for passing it on to me,” Marinette said with a smile. “It’s a cute way to remember the moves.”

“My pleasure. Now shall we try again?”

This time, it went better. Marinette lasted a whole minute before she stepped on his foot again. The time after that, she lasted even longer. Each proceeding attempt was better and better, and soon Adrien deemed her box step to be good enough for the moment.

“Shall we try a few other moves?” he proposed. “A spin and a turn should be enough. I don’t think you’ll need anything beyond those two for this event. The Prince isn’t a fan of the extravagant dances. He prefers simple and elegant.”

“Alright,” Marinette agreed, then added, “You seem to know him well.”

“Who? The Prince?”

“Yes. What’s he like?”

“Oh. Are you interested?” Adrien teased with an amused smile. “Have you changed your mind about marrying him?”

Marinette laughed. "No. You know I couldn't do that even if I wanted, which I don't. I was just curious since there are rumours flying around that he's rude and ugly, and I'd rather believe your words than someone who hardly knows him."

“I see.” Adrien let her hand go, his eyes shifting to the windows. He shrugged. “There is not much to tell, to be honest. I wouldn't say he’s particularly ugly, and neither is he mean or rude. Or at least he’d like to think so. I’d say he’s a decent man.” He paused, thinking for a moment, before adding. “He does have a good sense of humour.”

Marinette giggled. “That’s all you can say about him?”

“I don't know what else to say,” Adrien replied. “The Prince is like everyone else: a regular human with dreams and wishes and a lot of responsibilities that come before those.”

“It must be tough for him then,” Marinette sighed. “My friend, Lady Bug, often had to comply with things she didn’t like just because she was born a noble. That’s one of the reasons I’m here now: to help her to fulfill at least some of her own wishes. I’m sure if the Prince is as decent as you say, he isn’t exactly thrilled about this whole forced marriage ordeal—unless, of course, he’s in love with one of the ladies. Personally, I’d never be able to marry anyone without loving them.”

Adrien kept looking to the side, his voice quiet and stiff as he replied, “You have no idea how much he hates this whole thing. If it were up to him, he’d wait until he falls in love with someone on his own, but… traditions and his father would have none of what the Prince wants.”

“Poor guy,” Marinette echoed.

Adrien stayed quiet for a few moments, then faced Marinette and smiled. “Well, there is nothing we can do, so let’s not dwell on it. He’s used to it by now, anyway. It's not like this is the first time he’d had to put his own desires aside for the sake of his country and traditions. Gotta pay for the privilege of being born a prince, right?”

Adrien regretted his words the instant they slipped from his lips because Marinette’s eyes suddenly flared with anger.

“Really?” she snapped. “I can't believe you! How can you say that? How can you watch your friend sacrifice his life and his happiness for the sake of obsolete, stupid traditions no one but the King cares about? Because let me tell you: people of this kingdom don't care who the Prince marries. What ‘for the sake of the country' are we talking about here?”

“Marinette—” Adrien tried to calm her down, but she continued with more fervour than he’d ever seen in her.

“How is it okay with you to see him accept spending the rest of his life with a person he doesn't love against his own wishes? It's awful! If he hates it, someone should do something about it. You're close to him. Tell him to fight for his happiness. It isn't the Dark Ages anymore. Times have changed and so should these dumb traditions!”

“It isn’t as easy as you think,” Adrien grumbled, looking down. “Don’t you think he tried to fight it? He did. And not once, but it never amounted to anything. It’s hopeless, Marinette. And it’s too late now, anyway.”

“There is nothing hopeless in this world,” Marinette countered. “And it's never too late, Adrien. It isn’t over until it’s over.Tell him that. Tell him he has to fight until the end if he doesn’t want this.”

Adrien looked at Marinette. Her eyes burned with the righteous fire of determination and justice. Averting his gaze, he bit his lip. He once thought he could change something too. He once had hoped, as well. He once had fought.

Now, Adrien knew better, but it was still nice to see that Marinette cared so much about the prince she'd never met. She was amazing as that.

“I’ll tell him.” Adrien gave her a bittersweet smile. “I can't promise he’ll do anything, but I’ll make sure he hears what you’ve just said.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

“But don’t tell him it was me who said it.”

“I won’t say anything,” Adrien promised. “Though, I’m sure he’ll figure you out on his own pretty quickly when you two meet. There are only so many—if any—ladies here who could say that kind of thing to him, except you.”

“I’ll make sure to blend in,” Marinette chuckled. “I have a mission to not get noticed by him, so don’t worry, I’ll keep my mouth shut and my opinions safely in my head.”

Adrien snickered as the sound of bells in the background announced midnight.

“That’s our cue.” He backed up and bowed down. “It was my greatest pleasure, my Lady. Allow me to escort you back to your room now.”

Marinette curtsied. “Do you think I’m ready?”

“Not yet,” Adrien replied. “But you’ve got a solid start. A few more practice sessions and no one would dare to suspect that you haven’t spent your life dancing the days away.”

“I’ve got only a few days left,” Marinette groaned.

“Don’t worry.” Adrien placed a hand on her shoulder. “I promised to help you, and I will. We’ll practice every night until the ball.”

“Are you sure you wouldn't mind? Because I do need someone to teach me and you are better than Alya.”

“I wouldn't mind in the slightest,” Adrien assured.

“Thank you,” Marinette smiled. “You're the bestest friend I've ever had.”

Adrien smiled back. “That's quite a high praise, Marinette. Thank you. And just so you know - you're one of my bestest friends too, rivalled only by Nino. Now—” He took her hand and squeezed it, “—let's get you back to your room before anyone notices I've stolen you away.”

Gabriel hated migraines. Not only did they interfere with his work, but they also made living in one of the noisiest houses in the kingdom impossible. Getting an especially nasty one when his castle hosted a good number of his son's potential brides-to-be and their servants was a nightmare. Especially since the first ball was coming in a few days and it demanded the King's attendance.

To get better sooner, Gabriel shut himself up in his bedroom, but that did him little help as the annoying murmur of countless people seethed through the windows and doors of his chamber, making his existence more than miserable as his temples pounded with pain harder and harder with every passing second. By the end of the day, desperate for relief, Gabriel ordered his personal assistant to prepare a bedroom for him in the farthest corner of the castle, eliminate all activities and all guards in that area, and keep his whereabouts a secret, so no one could bother him until he recovered. That seemed like the perfect way to finally obtain the peace and quiet he yearned for so much.

The ghosts, however, seemed to disagree as they chatted, laughed, and tumbled about the hallways every night. Gabriel had no idea his castle hosted ghosts in the first place, but that might have been his own shortcomings since this was the first time he'd occupied a room in this particular part of the castle. Actually, no one had been sleeping here for at least a decade. With the passing of his beloved Queen, the number of guests and balls at the castle significantly decreased, and even when people did stay over, the main part of the castle had more than enough bedrooms to host them all. Were the annoying noises the ghosts tortured him with for at least a few hours every night a payback for never gracing them with his Royal presence before? Gabriel didn't know, but when they commenced messing around for the third night in a row, he’d have enough. Getting out of his bed, he quickly put on a robe and stepped into a hallway.

“Stay here,” he instructed the guards at his door. “I need a walk alone.”

What he really needed, though, was to personally tell those ghosts to keep it down because seriously! Enough was enough! The ball was tomorrow, and he was nowhere close to feeling well enough to attend. To his surprise, Gabriel couldn't hear the sounds anymore once in the hallway, making him doubt his sanity for a moment. Then, he remembered that the bedroom he was occupying had a co-joint chamber that led to a balcony overlooking the Crystal Ballroom. He turned back and quietly slipped into the mentioned room, exiting onto said balcony only to instantly pull back into the shadows of the balcony's curtain because those weren't ghosts waltzing around in the ballroom.

“Flow and elegance, Marinette,” he heard the man—a guard, considering the mask on his face—say. “It's all about the grace of the movement. Relax; otherwise, you'll keep messing it up.”

“Great,” the girl, “Marinette”, deadpanned. “Elegance and grace are exactly what I have plenty off. You know I trip over thin air all the time. I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. Let’s do this again.” The man—whose voice sounded very familiar— walked to the girl and took her in his arms, ready to dance. The pair whirled around the room in a silent waltz, with the man quietly counting. They weren't bad. They danced quite lovely, actually, until something happened and the pair tumbled to the floor, the man spinning them around in midair, so the girl landed on his chest instead of the other way around.

“I’m so sorry.” Gabriel heard her saying. “Adrien, are you okay?”

Gabriel’s eyes widened.

Adrien? As in his son Adrien? No wonder the voice sounded familiar.

In a moment, an amused chuckle came from Adrien, followed by something Gabriel couldn't distinguish, but the girl pulled back and sat down, crossing her arms over her chest with her back towards his son. Adrien jerked right up and threw his arms around the girl’s waist, pulling her in a hug as he laughed.

Gabriel stood shocked still at the scene. Where were his son’s manners? Where were his morals and ideals? Here he was, the heir to the throne, in the middle of a ballroom at midnight nuzzling up to some girl and all unsupervised. How utterly scandalous! That's not how the Royals behaved. That’s not how any son of his should even think to behave!

The girl seemed to agree with Gabriel as she untangled herself from his clingy son with a huff and stood.

“Take me back to my room,” she demanded. “I better fake a sickness and not attend the ball than embarrass myself.”

Gabriel stilled. So the girl was invited to the ball? Perhaps, one of the potential brides?

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, my Lady, but there is no way Nathalie will let you do that.”

Gabriel quirked an eyebrow. My Lady?

His son fell quiet for a moment, then stood up beside the pouting girl. “Do you trust me, Marinette?”

There was a pause. “You know I do,” she quietly answered. “Why you keep asking?”

“Do you trust me to lead you through this dance? Do you trust me enough to follow me instead of trying to remember the moves yourself?”

The girl thought for a short moment before silently nodding.

Gabriel frowned. Was Adrien helping this Marinette to practice her dancing? Because it certainly looked that way. Nathalie's words about one of the potential brides being poorly trained came to his mind. Could it be her? He’d need to keep an eye on this girl. Mainly because she, somehow, seemed to be very close to his son.

“Okay, then let’s try this one more time,” Adrien said. “This time, though, just look at me and let me lead you. Okay?”

For a brief moment, Gabriel considered coming out and stopping whatever this was, but something in the air had shifted as he observed the pair giving it one more chance. This was a far cry from the previous dance. This one seemed graceful and effortless as Adrien guided Marinette around the room, both of them gazing into each other's eyes instead of watching their feet as she’d done before.

After a turn about the room, Adrien stopped and bowed. “You did amazingly,” he said. “I told you you can do it.”

The girl curtsied. “It's all thanks to you. I doubt I can replicate it with anyone else.”

“Trust me,” Adrien responded. “If you can do this with me, you’ll be able to dance with anyone just as effortlessly. Just remember to trust your partner to guide you through the dance.”

Gabriel’s brow furrowed at the odd phrasing. It sounded as though he was teaching her how to dance instead of helping her brush up on her skills.

“I will,” the girl said, a smile clear in her tone. “Thank you again, Adrien. Shall we go now? The ball is tomorrow, and I can use a few extra hours of sleep. Alya's starting to suspect something, seeing as I'm suddenly always sleepy these days.”

“Tell me about it,” Adrien laughed. “Nino’s been on my case all day today. It's good we don’t have to continue this anymore because I can't guarantee that I'll be able to escape him much longer.”

Gabriel quirked an eyebrow. Just what was Adrien doing that involved sneaking away from that Nino boy? Usually, they sneaked around together.

“Well, I’m very thankful for your courage and bravery and all the risks you took in your quests to help me.” The girl curtsied once more. “I’ll even allow you to claim a reward of your choice, providing I pass this ball without a hitch.”

“Oh, really?” Adrien said, his tone far too suggestive to be deemed appropriate. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He added something quietly and taking Marinette by hand, led her away.

Gabriel headed back to his bedroom, much to his surprise discovering his migraine had vanished. That was unexpected. As well as his son teaching a lady how to waltz in the middle of a night without a chaperone. How in the world had he even thought of doing such a scandalous thing, and why was the girl allowing his son such indecency? Where was her noble pride? He’d have to keep an eye on both of them to prevent any potential disasters—  

Gabriel froze at his bed with a thought. Maybe this was Adrien’s way to get to know the ladies better before he’d have to choose one of them? His son was very adamant about that aspect, so… could it be possible that he’s sneaking around with each of them separately to get better acquainted, and Gabriel had caught only one of his multiple escapades? The man frowned. That wouldn't do. This was no way for his son to behave. If Adrien wanted to spend one-on-one time with his potential brides-to-be then he should’ve asked. Gabriel wasn't a monster; he’d organize that for his son. In fact, he’d arrange it without Adrien asking. Starting the day after the ball, his son would have scheduled time with each of the ladies in public where the guards can chaperone them. The way it should be done, not whatever it was that Adrien was doing on his own.

#miraculous ladybug #A Bride for the Prince #fanfiction #dancing #fluff #friends to lovers #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Nino and Alya are the real MVPs #someone save them

[tazzytypes]

Apocalypse: Sanctuary - Chapter 2

Read on AO3

Just because your roommates are horrible doesn't mean you all can't have a good time now and again... just don't tell Venable.

Hey guys. this scene is pretty short in comparison with my other chapters thus far. It didn't blend well with the other things I have planned, but I thought it was important to show the good times at Outpost 3 as well as the bad. Consider it a palette cleanser for what is to come. Michael will be here by Chapter 4...

The excitement over the idea of salvation by the cooperative was a short-lived joy. After months of listening to “The Morning After” by McGovern over and over and over was enough to make the residents of Outpost 3 question their sanity as well as their conviction.

Em walked into the salon, her hands wrapped around a collection of pens she had been able to scavenge from her room. She pulled at the obnoxiously high collar of her white shirt. Whenever evening wear wasn’t an obligation, she liked to dress in as few layers as she could — Victorian underwear and a dress that made her look like some governess of orphaned children in a period drama. 

Swinging the door open, she stopped in her tracks. The room was usually devoid of life except for the 6 o’clock “cocktails.” Andre sat there on the couch, his back to her as he stared into the fire.

The brunette debated turning on her heels, but by the time she took a step back, it was too late. Andre’s head turned, hair raising on the back of his neck as he sensed her green eyes boring into his back. He wondered if she would go away if he ignored her long enough, but curiosity got the better of him His head turned ever slightly and Em pretended like she had meant to be seen by the man.

Heels clicked against the wood flooring, only a few steps before pausing at the edge of the large black coffee table between the two large dark sofas.

Two months after Stu’s death and his cheeks were still damp with tears. His red eyes burned her, anger unyielding. She was deserving of his hate... even more so than the others. Just as she couldn’t reassure him of Stu’s safety she could not tell him of her guilt. At least the others showed remorse and disgust at their own actions.

Em tried to speak with Andre on multiple occasions, but her words came out hollow. Anything she said was just to chase off her own guilt. At one point she had mistakenly reminded Andre that he had also eaten from the stew... it didn’t end well. 

Needless to say, these days, the only person he spoke to was Dinah.

There was so much anger and grief twisting inside him. He wanted to scream and throttle Venable damn the consequences. At least then he’d be reunited with the man he loves... loved. One meal and the bonds made in good faith and mutual tragedy were fractured with the crack of a whip. 

Em wished he would just verbally eviscerate her like he did Evie. His silence was suffocating. Instead, they stood in awkward silence. She really wasn’t good at this.

“So…” Em trailed, leaning back on her heels and biting her lips as she thought of what to say. Another apology would sound insincere and they both knew it would end them right back where they began. 

“So,” Andre mocked, scoffing as he turned back to the fire. 

Em rose a hand as if to reach out to him, mouth opened before closing it once more. Her hand reached out to him before drawing back, hand running through her hair then returning to her side. 

 “What’s it like having Dinah Stevens as a mother?”

Another scoff, followed by his gaze flickering up and down her with disdain.

She finally settled on the couch opposite him, “Sore subject… fair.”

“Also literally asked by every person I’ve ever met.”

Mc nodded, “basic.”

“Yup,” Andre said, popping the “p.”

Fiddling with the pens in her hand, Em racked her brain for something to say. It was a curse, anxiety. It made everything seem much worse than it was and was often accompanied by an overwhelming desire to be liked by everyone… well… almost everyone. Involuntary cannibalism would have been considered some of the worst, but it pales in comparison to nuclear winter. 

Her leg bounced up and down and her eyes flickered from the fire to the ceiling to Andre and back again. Usually, in these moments she’d take out her phone, pens could only distract one for so long.

“God, I wish we had alcohol,” She sighed.

“Amen to that.”

The door creaked open. Em jumped to her feet, holding back the urge to run towards Emily as she quietly closed the door behind her. It felt like an eternity before she turned around. A smile lit up Emily’s face and she waved a collection of paper she had been able to find.

“Ready?”

Relief rolled off Em, tension leaving her shoulders as they can to settle around the coffee table. There was plenty of room, but Em still found it more comfortable to sit on the floor, skirt billowing around her like a puddle of purple. She took a pen and piece of paper and leaned over the table.

“You start. Give me a band.”

Emily’s lips twisted and her nose scrunched as she thought, “… The Beatles.”

Em scribbled down the name and tore it from the rest of the paper, placing it in a small wooden box Emily had brought with her. She grabbed a paper and pen of her own and turned to Em. “Now you.”

“Panic at the Disco.”

“Why am I not surprised.”

Em couldn’t help the laugh that left her, “shut up. You said The Beetles.”

“What? It’s a classic.”

Andre’s attention turned from the fire to the pair sitting across from him. He would have left, but after months and months of doing nothing but waking up and waiting to sleep again he was dying for something different.

“Lady Gaga,” Em said.

“Madonna.” Emily countered.

“Justin Bieber.”

“Justin Timberlake.”

“What are you doing?” He finally asked after a few more rounds of them shooting random words back and forth. 

“Pictionary,” Emily answered him with a smile, cheeks flushed from laughing, “Em had the idea.”

“Pictionary?” Andre asked, slowly scooting closer, “Is that a game?”

“Yeah!” Em answered, “My siblings and I used to play it all the time. Right now we’re coming up with random things to go in a hat.”

She motioned to the box slowly gathering more and more strips of paper, “The game is to pick one of these and try to draw it while your teammates guess what it is.”

“So like art charades?”

“Pretty much!”

A small smile flickered to Andre’s lips as he stood up and came to sit beside Emily. 

“Okay. I have one: Dinah Stevens.”

“Oooh,” Em awed, pointing a pen at Emily and Andre, “that’s a good one. Should we do one for each resident?”

Emily shrugged, “I don’t see why not.”

“How angry do you think Coco would be if we put her in there?” Andre asked, grabbing a pen and paper of his own.

Em looked like the Cheshire Cat, smiling ear to ear, “Furious,”

“Let’s do it.”

As the hours passed, more and more residents joined. A few Greys even whispered ideas into Em’s ear as they passed and she would scribble them in and throw them in the box. Em finally took a seat on one of the couches, Timothy and Emily on her right and Coco to her left.

“Okay!Okay!” Em exclaimed as people yelled things at her all at once, “One at a time! Give me stuff. Movies, books, albums, famous people, sayings. Coco! Go!”

“Michel Jackson!”

Em scribbled down the name and tossed it into the pile of paper that threatened to spill from the small box, “Alright! Now… Emily!”

“To Kill a Mocking Bird!”

She nodded as she scribbled it down, “… and since I’m Emily squared I get to go next.”

Gallant groaned, “oh, c’mon!”

“Hey!” Em snipped, smiling as she swung a pen at the man who could only smile and laugh at her antics, “I’m the one with the pen. My pen, my rules!”

Coco leaned over Em, “What are you writing?”

“Stevie Nicks!”

Leaning back in his seat, Gallant draped an arm across the back of his chair, perplexed, “Isn’t that the woman that sings Jolene?”

“NO!” At least five people yelled in unison, quickly falling into a collection of giggles.

Em feigned insult, “how can you mistake Dolly Parton with Stevie Nicks.”

Gallant waved a dismissive hand, “We aren’t all from the countryside of Georgia.”

“I was raised near Atlanta, thank you very much,” Em jested, “I’m only a quarter country girl.”

“Do you have those shirts that say: ‘don’t talk to me until I’ve had my sweet tea?’” Coco asked, hands spreading out like she was hanging up a banner. 

Em couldn’t keep her smile down, “That was one time!”

“Uh-huh,” Gallant laughed, “Suuure it was.”

The brunette grabbed an extra pen and chucked it at the man. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d laughed like this. God knows none of them had even been in a room together without mandatory attendance.

Timothy sat at the edge of the group. He shuffled through the cards they had made, sorting them so they’d fit in the box. “I think we’ve filled out the last one.”

Coco looked around at everyone, “So… we get to play now?”

“Not today,” Emily declared, smiling at Timothy as he held out the box for her to place the top on it. Coco, Andre, and Gallant booed them.

“Look,” Em defended Emily, hands wringing at her wrists “I know y’all were just spitting out words, but I had to write them all down. My poor wrist needs a break.”

“Oh boo-hoo,” Coco said.

“Half the fun is not knowing what’s coming,” Timothy reminded, his eyes not leaving Emily. Em could tell he was smitten with her. Poor boy didn’t know how to hide anything.

“Well I don't know about y’all,” Andre spoke, mocking Em’s slight accent as he rose from the couch, “But I’m going to take a nap.”

“I agree, y’all,” Gallant jumped on, dodging another pen Em threw in his direction. 

“Words are an illusion created by humanity,” She jested, earning a dismissive wave from the hairdresser as he walked out the door, “It’s conventional!!”

Coco sighed and laid back on the couch, closing her eyes as she began to whine “I wouldn’t mind the constant hunger if it didn’t come with the constant tiredness.”

Em looked to Timothy and Emily. The latter rolled her eyes.

“I feel like I’m back in college,” Em said, leaning back on Emily, “Eating sleep for dinner.”

She could feel Emily’s shoulders shake as she laughed. Timothy took a seat on the other side of the coffee table, resting on the arm of the chair, “C’mon. It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“I spent finals week eating only spoonfuls of peanut butter. Then the next year I bought a Costco-sized thing of ramen noodles.”

Emily leaned back her head and groaned, “Don’t talk about food. Even ramen noodles make my mouth water.”

Somehow, Em had made her way from leaning on Emily’s shoulder to having her head in the other girl’s lap. Emily’s hands absentmindedly ran through the brunette’s short bob which was growing longer by the day. 

“Oh!” A memory struck Em like a lightning bolt, “my friend took me to an authentic ramen place before the bombs.”

She hummed at the mere thought of the food, “Best. Thing. Ever. They had special ramen eggs and topped it off with a slab of pork that just fell apart—”

Coco jumped from her seat with a huff, “You’re all sadistic!”

The three of them watched as the blonde stormed across the room, door slamming behind her with a loud bang which made their bones shake. Then they looked to each other, biting their lips but ultimately falling into laughter.

“If I knew it was that easy I would have done it months ago,” Emily laughed.

“C’mon,” Timothy tried to be the voice of reason, trying to keep a straight face but ultimately failing, “That’s just mean.”

“So is Coco,” Em scoffed, reaching for a glass of water, “it’s not like we threatened to kill her.”

“You did,” Emily reminded. 

The other girl paused in her movement and pointed up at her, “Mead said ‘murder’, not me. I said I’d come for her… I didn’t specify how.”

Timothy sighed and shook his head while Emily only looked at him with a smile. 

“At least we have each other,” Emily noted.

Em smiled at that, finally sitting up, “The Three Musketeers!”

“All for one and one for all,” Timothy said.

Emily sighed, “God knows Venable won’t do it.” 

#michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x oc #michael langdon #ahs x reader #ahs x oc #ahs apocolypse #ahs #fanfiction #american horror story fanfiction

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

They thought ole' Slick Willie was slick, well they don't see me a comin'!

-S.Leigh

Antron Brown and Mike Salinas:

Our rags to riches success stories.

In 2018 i began giving drivers $2 million per year to fix their personal assets and finances. Until 2022. They had to sign contracts promising to give awsy half of that fortune by 2026. $4M

In 2018 i began giving all mechanics, tuners, etc $1 million per year to fix their personal assets and finances. Until 2022. They had to sign contracts to give away half of that fortune by 2026. $2M

So as you read for Antron and his work crew he himself took time out of collecting to look over the smaller kids to make sure they were staying out of fights and behaving and the adults, too.

How Mike Salinas was actually only 12 years old being called an old man because he wanted just to collect cans.

You didn't read how the girls got mad the old man and the boys only picked up metal and left none for them and left all the trash. Erica. That mean ole girl she just didn't get it. Recycling woman! Sticking her nose and up at old man business.

"Well let's see how much Snoop will pay you to clean up the trash then. How much do you think you'll earn? Come along then. All you pretty nice girls, you too Erica. We gotta get you on the payroll"

Snoop worked the Snack Shack. When i asked for money for the kids and heard the cash register ding I pretend I didn't hear it. When i asked for some food and i didn't hear the tippy tap of them register keys, I pretend I heard. And slide a napkin across the counter. "Here's your paper money Snoop" he'd always laugh and giggle. No matter it was 150° in that Sugar Shack or 2 below zero.

I knew we had money from Michael Jackson and the CIA. I just had a role to play. For the adults that "bitch witch" for the kids, the momma.

He paid all them kids the same 10 cents to the girls per item and 5 cents to the boys.

Then always buffet and shopping sprees.

They all got $5 no matter how much they worked. Equal pay. Equal rights.

Antron Brown noticed. "I picked up more than them boys over there and they got the same. They were playing in the mud all day and lying and hey how come i get $5 each time i work no matter hiw much im workin? It rain. $5. It snow -- well it ain't snowed yet. But if it did $5. And if it's hot $5"

"Well you think you earn more than $5 you let me know and I'll pay you"

"He did today Snoop. He earned $20"

"I did not! I picked up 5 items because i knew i would get $5!!"

"Well I'll tell you what. I'll give you $40 because she knows you asked a very nice question nicely so that's $20 and then you went and been honest so that's $40. So how much you get?"

"$5 Every time i come down here! Boy I tell you what! I come down here a sweat. Work my poor soul to death and $5!!"

"Snoop i must tell you he's been telling on us what we been doin down here because he went home last weekend. And they telling him he ain't earned a fair wage per hour"

Snoops emotions went roller coaster. "Tell me the most important thing you said then say it again"

"He went home. The rest we will work on later not in front of the children"

"He went home then huh? He went home?! He WENT HOME!!!"

Antron on about his $5 suddenly stopped "huh. Yeah I did so? I like it, too! $5 that all I get for working down here! Slave labor by a black man and this ole white woman here!"

Man that boy hit super crazy on that roller coaster go button!! He flew out that suga shack like he was on a broom!

Picked that boy up by his armpits and set him on the counter. "Boy! Lookie here behind you. Look what you getting!"

"Yeah i know! $5 that all you get round here! Slave labor! You just trying to pay me the rest to shut me up!! Slave labor!!"

Snoop was lit on fire and that kid was building him a cross.

"BOY!! GIRL!!!! YOU BEEN TEACHING HIM TOO MUCH!!!"

I crossed my arms "i blame his parents" i leaned againat the wall. The sun was setting. The parents would be there soon. "Put Erica up on there."

"Oh. Boy! I am lit! Which one is Erica?!?"

"This one behind you. She's trying so hard not to be amused"

"Girl! Come here let me get at you. Here you take this one and this one. Sabrina Go get me a $5 out that drawer. Now Lookie see this here. You now say what he say. It say you get $10"

"Slave labor! We ain't free i get $10"

"$10!!! Im getting outta here!!" He jumped down.

"Boy what would happen I did that? You know how much she make? $10. You know how much i make $5. Because she smarter than me! She pay attention ans she make sure when i call you a niglet she always tell me you're an African King even when you're not around!! For all these kids out here!!"

"Now how can we all be kings?"

"You are. You're an independent contractor. You're a king of your own way. You desire more money then we will pay"

"And you're a Queen and you're pretty. No matter how i say all you pretty girls and Erica, too. I heard them other girls making fun of you the other day and you know what you say? Let's get to work. No time for fooling around we got to clean so we get paid. You know what i think of you? You're a Queen. A Queen of England. A Queen of America and a Queen of yourself. And you're pretty, too. And you know what? Dont let them boys be foolish saying that your work was no good because it ain't metal. Aint nothing wrong with metal and aint nothing wrong with picking up trash. And you know what i think of you? You're brave. You didn't run up and tell no one nothing. You stood up to those girls although i think your feelings were hurt. And it broke my heart and made me cry and I wasn't even called ugly. I had to come in here and hide so no one would see but Snoop. And I thought long and hard about an apology to you. But I decided it wasn't good enough. I deserved to be you for you. Stand up strong and proud no matter how i feel and get to work. So i decided the next day to tell those girls how I feel and you, too. And it didn't help. Not one iota. So i decided to try again on the advice of snoop. Not the next day but the same day. And i told the truth. I didn't say it was about you but i said one day not too long ago i did overheard someone say someone else wasn't too pretty and how it made me cry. And you all thought I was talking about myself. And I didn't know what to do or how to explain that it wasn't about me but about you. How i care more about you than I do me. And you know what all those adults out there call me? Witch Bitch. And i don't care. I get here and I get to work. But the difference between me and you little one is you're little and you got your whole life ahead of you and anyone call you ugly you punch them and you tell them to go find Sabrina and I'll deal with it. Okay?"

"Yeah because you tell me and us our feelings are important. You say and i quote "your feelings are important Erica and all you other girls too. Ever since that day i meant" and she hung her head.

And all them words i said. I felt like i said nothing at all. Not a dam word. Alex always did something when I needed strength so i did it.

I took my thumb and forefinger and pinched her chin and i tilted her head and raised her eyes to mine "and i love you"

A big ole grin spread across her face. Her eyes lit up and she said "i knew it!! I knew thats why we always come to this place!!!" And she swung her arm like a champ

Meanwhile Antron Brown was stomping the ground and saying "i knew it! I knew it too! An old white woman would love me!!"

"Well Antron! Of course i do!"

"Oh! I know! That's all i meant to say"

"Can i get down now? I think i see my parents"

"Your parents?!?! I didn't know you went home, too!"

"Tuesday! Yup that was me!"

She jumped down and i turned around and there was a crowd before me. All the NHRA we stole from that hadn't quit yet. All the ones we gave the stolen goods too. Parents. God. So so so many parents!

"Come on. Get with your kids. Come on now. Go home for once. All you. Except you Mike Salinas i need to ask you a question"

They did And he did.

I went in the kitchen to hide and cry.

"Sabrina. Now look what you did, you have gave Mike Salinas $13,000 in 6 months. What you got to say to?"

"I earned it"

"Mike i asked you One day why you pick up cans."

"To earn money"

"I told you another day i knew who won all the fights and if you laid down a bet I would make sure you won. And if you lost on my bad advice, i would pay you double. And there you went" it was so hard not to cry "and you looked and you looked at me and you told me it disgusted you and made you sick to your stomach to see grown men fighting"

"I know it did. I told you i just wanted to pick up cans and it was good clean fun"

I linked my arm in his "and you're right, you're $13,000 richer than you were before" we walked to the clubhouse

I could hear snoop Tele tell me "tell him! Tell him jt was you! Hes the one that started calling youba witch bitch!"

"Snoop i have something to confess to you about that."

"You know what Mike. I wanna find out if you made more money in good clean fun than you would gambling. Betting on those fights. We'll ask Snoop"

He didn't. He made 1/3 less.

So in the clubhouse office we found out. I laid on the floor straight on my stomach.

"She has a heart condition. Palpitations. Its the only thing that makes it feel better but medication which she refuses. Here. Take your pill"

"Oh! I forgot! Im only gonna lay down till it kicks in. Good clean cold floor"

I could feel Mike Salinas staring. I knew he Didn't know

"But she's a witch bitch. She changes my hair colors! I know it's her because I always hear her laughing. Me and the other guys been talking and they frel so too. Nothing good or nothing come out this place til you all arrived. I used to hate it and the other guys did too. We look like punk rockers we decided then we didn't mind and i tell you people quit messing with us. I guess they thought we were bad ass. So i heard these meaner looking boys out there talking how they would rape her and so i started calling hwr a witch bitch loud whenever they were around. Make them scared of her, too"

I was so proud of him.

"I know you two are here to be good. You call them little niglets or niggers and she corrects you. African Queens! And you tilt your head way back so the short kids can't see you. Im short, too. But not that short" finished Mike Salinas "you put on a gig out here and just to show them respect and role play. Knowing you got to show them how to treat each other and know right from wrong, I'm only 12 but I see that, too. I started crying when they first brought me metal because we're so poor i can barely eat much less run a car. And she would point to that little boy When i would get to thinking about how much money they helped me with and i looked at her I knew she had part of something to do with it. And that little boy. Oh!! When he would see me get to smiling he would hoot and hollar and jump up and down. He would get so happy. Makes me think one day i could get to racing which is my drreeeaam. Which I thought was never possible till now"

"Snoop. Double it" i said from the floor. I heard Snoop move a large stack of cash to the middle of the table.

"Is that for me... Or?

"If you want it

"Because" i sat up. Suddenly the room went black. "Are they still here or.. Where did every one Go?"

I saw snoop come at me on the floor his face close to mine then disappear. Over and over again.

My heart collapsed and I died. He was giving me mouth to mouth and CPR "Call the ambulance. Call 911. She keeps doing it. They keep trying to take her. Call 911 hurry please"

We bought that race track. We still own it. I am the sole owner.

These kids. I went to Armageddon and I said my job isn't done yet. You can't keep me here. You have until i arrive at the hospital to tell me what mess you've made. And why. Why am I here?

I had doubt in my failures.

They don't know shit.

...

So Antron Brown, Brittany Force, Mike Salinas, Erica, and more.

Steve Torrence. John Foce, pedragons, Jason line and Greg who got purple hair, too.

You are all our success stories.

We taught you everything we possibly could. Even unfair wages between men and woman later in days. Not one got kidnapped again.

Except like me, Mike Salinas lost all his memories.

He can't find it. But he wants it.

That race track. He needs it.

All those kids, too. We planted flowers and painted the building. Fixed bleachers, mowed grass.

So i give all you babies $4 million dollars to share to do what we did. Free safe babysitting. Teaching history and right from wrong.

And I'm gonna make sure all you niglets do it right so you know how to raise Kings and Queens.

And so I'm gonna make Snoop in charge again. He ain't too busy. Just protecting my life. Stopping human trafficking. Holding a music career. He's own 3 TV shows. He ain't too busy to run a Sugar Shack.

So I'm gonna give him $4 million dollars. And the Tree of Knowledge will give him $1 million dollars.

Cause them kids gonna need $5 for they slave labor!

They may be grown with kids of their own but they still our babies.

We already taught them to clean. Fix things up and make them pretty. So they will remember how to do so and spend the $4 million dollars on renovations. Keeping as much as the original or replacing it exactly as I bought it. So it's perfectly unchanged and can help them remember and heal all is lost from themselves.

And help heal all that is lost for others.

And give them more thwn they could ever dream of.

Candy! I know your makeup done washed off from all the love!

So, Chandler. How you loving it now?!?

You took over a few times because i had 3 heart attacks and so they at first all said I was busy and couldn't be there but my daughter could be instead.

So it's your home, too.

You're not too, busy, what? Writing books? Manuscripts. Stopping human trafficking. Being awesome on TV.

I know you have time to plant some daisies and lilies

So I give you $500,000 to pit toward what they need.

888-8.5 that's too hard.

So let's call it an even.

I have 879 million left.

But that's not all. My heart is still working! And im still on Earth. So. What say...

3milluon to buy supplies for go carts the kids put together and pine box cars and whatever need for speed things they can manage to handle on their own -- mostly

876.

Chantlily lace. What a pretty face! Oh baby! That's what i like!!

And of course use of the facility is always free. For eternity.

So original old school..

[iwillsendapostcard]

don't worry it can still happen.. robert might cheat on aaron with chrissie next year :)

Oh nonnie! I mean, you could be right there- who knows? But I acutely have loads of theories about this! So, buckle in; this is probably going to be 1,000 words longer than it needs to be.

There are three points to this post;

I think this storyline is trying to tell us that Rob will not ever cheat again

Rob cheating with Chrissie would have been better for Bex’s character and mean that she wasn’t just brought into the show to be a walking womb

This could have been a really interesting story for Chrissie too, especially with the Lachlan rumours

I quite firmly believe that this storyline is trying to show us that Rob isn’t going to cheat again. When the first spoilers came through that The Incident was going to happen, I was actually kinda on board with it (when we thought it was just a kiss.) I absolutely do not want Aaron to be cheated on, but I thought that showing the audience the potential for it would be a good thing. Because I know that the GA would always be convinced that Rob would cheat again unless we saw him be completely devastated by it.

What I thought was going to happen was that Rob would kiss Bex and she would push him away, leaving Rob with the revelation that even though he tries to pretend that he has fully moved on, those parts of his personality still exist and he needs to work on them rather than ignore them. AND this would have meant Bex drawing a line under her past love (?) for him and make the decision to move on.

Obviously, that’s not what we got.

But, in a very complicated way, it’s almost better? In the sense that Rob is now really having to deal with the huge mistake he made. He can’t escape it, he can’t pay it to go away, he can’t push it under the carpet and pretend it never happened. This is partly why I think Vic is so involved with Bex right now. So that Rob has to face his mistake at every turn.

This should have two effects: hopefully it will make the boys talk to each other more (Aaron has done his own fair share of sweeping and this hiding from each other cannot be good. I’d like to see them work on this) AND it will show Rob the very real possibility of losing Aaron explicitly because of something he and he alone did. He’s already been through this twice, with the reveal and pub episodes, and he’s going to have to keep going through it for the rest of the child’s life.

The short version- I think what’s going on here is the change that means that Robert Sugden is never going to cheat again. And that is a big step since cheating made up such a huge part not just of Ryan Hawley’s Rob but also Karl’s; every relationship Rob has had has involved cheating in some way. Changing his character so that he won’t cheat again, and so the audience won’t think he’ll cheat again requires something pretty drastic, and I think that we can all agree that if this storyline is anything, it’s that.

On to Bex specifically: I feel that the way that her character has been written has been very inconsistent. I am also slightly concerned that she’s had so few storylines that are independent from the Sudgens. As such, it’s very easy to think that the main reason she was added to the cast was to be a part of this one particular storyline. Emily has said in interviews that she feels like Bex isn’t given as much sympathy because she hasn’t been in the soap that long. And to an extent she’s right. Because of the inconsistencies, we don’t know all that much about her character- her motivations are very difficult to work out, the snarky fun person who wanted the old Robert back is not the same woman as the one who feels like he forced her into an abortion. But, if Rob had cheated with another female cast member who was better established than her character may read as more sympathetic as the audience would understand her wants and desires more than they understand Bex’s.

Which brings me to Chrissie and the potential storylines there. Firstly, Chrissie is a much more established character and she is capable of inspiring both sympathy and derision (my mum, for example, thinks she was totally justified in setting Rob’s car on fire but thinks she went too far to punish Andy) so we instantly get a two sided view of the issue. Secondly, while Bex was set up as a worry for Aaron due to her past relationship with Rob there would still be that worry with Chrissie. This could have very easily been established with comments about Rob’s marriage to her in the lead up to the Robron wedding. After all, Rob never made the choice to leave her for Aaron and Aaron was always second best to her in terms of Robert’s long-term priorities. This would speak to anyone who has had a similar relationship where one person has left another for someone else and has the potential to resonate with a far wider part of the audience.

So, a better story for the GA, but could it have the potential to be a good story for Chrissie? Well, there is no way in hell that she would ever touch Rob again with a 10 ft bargepole. But we know this soap has no problem making drunk people sleep together. So, let’s suspend our disbelief for a moment and run with the drunk sex idea. It is abundantly clear that this story was never meant to be about consent, but having both parties equally drunk would have inspired a different conversation anyway. Then we have the fact the Chrissie would take the morning after pill- but what if she doesn’t remember? Then we might question why she wouldn’t have an abortion. But if we’re expected to believe that Bex always wanted to be a mum then I think we can easily believe that Chrissie wanted more children but had agreed with Rob that Lachlan was enough for now.

It seems like we’re heading towards a story about inheritance here, with John leaving and Bex’s (and I’m going to call them as I see them here) bizarre outbursts at Chrissie. But Bex doesn’t need to be pregnant in order to get her hands on Lawrence’s money as she is already his biological daughter. Whereas Chrissie and Lachlan are not and could be cut out- but would Lawrence really do that if Chrissie was pregnant again. A biological daughter verses an adopted one with two children? Seems like a more even playing field to me…

And while we’re on the subject of Lachlan: I would not be surprised if, privately, Chrissie thinks she messed up a bit there. Knowing her, she’ll blame a lot of people before she blames herself, but I also think she would acknowledge that the buck stops with her and that she won’t be winning any mother of the year awards. But 16 years later, could she get it right this time. Could this be the chance to prove that she can parent a child and that she’s learnt from her mistakes? Would she want to keep it to prove to herself and her family that she can be a good mum? Would the child give her something to hold onto once serialkiller!Lachlan rises?

Or, and I think that this would play into it, would she keep the child knowing that it will punish Robert and Aaron? Because however much Bex tries to tell us that she likes Aaron and doesn’t want to hurt him and wants to look out for him, I’m pretty sure that Chrissie doesn’t give a flying fuck about the man who slept with her husband for 6 months despite knowing they were married.

So yeah, that’s why the Chrissie and Robert theory made me scream a little. Nonnie, if you or anyone else is still reading this I would like to say sorry for putting you through that all. I just have a lot of feelings ;)

#this post ran away with me #i have no idea what to tag this as so people won't shout at me #anonymous #Robert #Chrissie #Bex #Lachlan