#this mild…rant is tame

[halliescomut]

Y'all want another rant??

I have seen so MANY cracked-out, poorly considered 'hot takes' this weekend, and wow are they aggravating. We can start with the continuing discussion regarding HeartStopper and it's author, who feels the fact that there are no sexual scenes in their work make it inherently better than other queer media. (Edit: The initial comment ppl point to is from 2017, but there has also been no clarity or further statements made despite this being regularly discussed, which is certainly not the norm for addressing divisive statements.) Now, the fact that she's mentioned things like this in conjunction with dismissal of East Asian and South East Asian BL, makes it clear that this is not simply a 'purity' thing, but also has racist undertones. My biggest issue though, is that it clearly demonstrates that they have not attempted to consume any of the available content out there. Are there BLs that focus on the sexual aspects of relationships? Yes, there's the Pornographer, but there's also My Dining Table. You have TharnType, but you also have My Only 12%. Hell, my absolute favorite BL is GameBoys, which first season ends in the ONLY kiss and the couple is still separated by a plastic barrier.

So how can you say that EVERY show revolves only around sex? Realistically you can't. And there's a whole slew of other issues with such statements, like the fact that for a vast majority of romantic couples, sex and physical chemistry is a vital and valued part of their relationships. Or the fact that reducing the queer media of a non-white culture down to sex alone contributes to the misleading idea that people of color are ruled by base human desires, and don't have the intellectual ability to create a romantic relationship based on something other than sex. Honestly, it's giving very British, unsurprisingly.

The reality is that in the world they created in HeartStopper, an overt focus on a sexual relationship would feel vastly out of place. Both because of the age of the characters, but the tone of the story. It's a romanticized coming-of-age/coming out story that revolves around first love. It's intention is to focus on the emotions involved in those experiences in a 'rose-colored glasses' type of way. It's why we've seen plenty of gay men criticizing the show by saying it's unrelatable. And while I don't imagine that it's 100% true representation for every gay man out there, I'd say that's based more on it being distinctly romanticized in a way the real life rarely is. I think it's also intended to be slightly aspirational, it shows a world where more often than not a queer teen's family, friends, community, and society are supportive, kind, and loving; something that has rarely been the reality of many queer adults today. It's not wrong or bad to be aspirational, it's a facet of the queer experience that is necessary, but it should not be taken as a replacement for more 'realistic' queer media, especially in an attempt to sanitize the lived experiences of thousands of queer men.

(I'd like to note that I do intentionally tag any posts that I make about HS as BritishBL because I'm a petty bitch.)

The amount of sex either alluded to or shown in a piece of media does not indicate it's value. If you have done even a mild foray into BL outside of Thailand, then you are likely well aware that Chinese and South Korean BL is often promoted as being more 'tame' or 'respectable' than Thai BL, or even Japanese BL. But if you think critically about it for even a moment, you're able to easily conclude that the reason those countries often produce queer media that's more on the level of a PG or PG-13 rating is because there are still very strict societal AND governmental standards that prevent the presentation of queer media. It's rare if not unheard of to have shows or movies based on queer written media show even a single kiss, and it's because of homophobia, when you move outside of China to places like Taiwan (which China still considers to be part of it's empire) you may see more 'explicit' presentations of queer relationships, but they often still skew towards being more in that PG-13 range. I've inserted below a chart that I pulled for another project, but is applicable here as well showing the legality of same-sex relationship as well as the legal protections of them (i.e. same-sex marriage recognition or adoption)

While for China and North Korea in particular, we have to sort of accept their word, you can see that for the vast majority of East Asian countries, same-sex relationships are not illegal, but they area also not actively supported. And while progress has been made in many places, there is still a long way to go to offering them equal opportunities and protections. And, as is always true, the negative effects of bigotry and homophobia have the largest impacts on those that live in poverty or are members of other marginalized communities. So while, you may see rich and privileged queer people from these countries living their life without much backlash, that is never going to be the lived experience of your everyday gay salaryman.

Just want to pause here and say this next part is not related to Alice in any way, it's just another aspect of upsetting to me discourse I saw this weekend.

Moving on to another very concerning discussion that I saw revolving around Mew and Top in the first episode of Only Friends. The are SO MANY comments being made on edits all over social media dissing Mew for choosing not to have sex with Top once they got to his apartment. With the vast majority saying something along the lines of 'He's hot, Mew should have just done it", "Virginity isn't even a real thing", "He knew what Top wanted when he invited him over", and it honestly gets more frustrating and disturbing from there. The #1 key to consent is that it is ALWAYS ongoing and you have the right to revoke it at anytime. It is an incredibly valid criticism of Thai BL that they waffle a little bit with that consent line, and I feel like some of the same people who argued that the sex between Lom and Nuea in Wedding Plan last week was iffy consent because Lom was clearly drunk, are spouting these bullshit opinions about Top and Mew. Consent can be and often is a VERY nuanced conversation. Mew believing that he was ready for sex with Top when he left that bar, and realizing that he wasn't once they got back to his apartment is incredibly realistic. It happens to a lot of people, and unfortunately those people are often not with someone like Top, who in that moment was willing (even if not precisely happy) to forego sex. This is a scene that shows what a reaction SHOULD be to a removal of consent. You don't have to be happy about it, but as a human who hopefully has respect for the other human involved, you should respect it.

As far as the 'virginity is a social construct thing'--you're right it is. But it is not wrong or weird for a person to prefer that there be a personal and emotional connection between themselves and a potential sexual partner. There's literally a whole sexuality where a person does not feel romantic or sexual attraction WITHOUT an emotional connection.

That's not to say that this automatically concludes that Mew is definitely intended to be demisexual, it's possible that this is fully unintentional on the part of the writer, director, or actor. But in terms of negatively reacting to this scene on public social media, you are actively dismissing the very real feelings of very real people who you may be interacting with. Because just as there is absolutely nothing wrong with being comfortable having sex without feelings being involved, the same is true in reverse. As with all things related to sex, it's about the comfort of the person participating in the act, beyond that there is no 'better' or 'right' way to feel about it.

And moving onto that last incredibly upsetting point...that Mew knew what was going to happen when he left the bar with Top, how disgusting of a take. There are literally thousands of people, most female presenting, who get asked that same question when reporting sexual violence from people they were dating, or met in bars. The dismissal of a person's autonomy because 'they knew what they were getting into' is nothing more than disgusting. It's not just a bad take, or a problematic one, it's a take that feeds into the victim-blaming society that we live in and makes it more and more difficult for survivors of sexual violence to come forward, and impedes our ability to install tenets of consent in our society as a whole. By continuing to spout such ridiculous and disgusting ideas, you are setting a standard that prevents ANYONE from revoking consent at any time and enables assaulters to pressure people into sex, or just bypass their consent completely, knowing that the likelihood of actual repercussions is very low.

So I guess TLDR- All levels of intimacy (both physical and emotional) are important in queer media, from the most innocent to the most carnal, and healthy representations of consent conversations, especially those that show people's autonomy as being fully respect should be praised, not dismissed.

#HeartStopper #BritishBL #only friends the series #TopMew #Thai BL #East Asian BL #South East Asian BL #Nick and Charlie #Nick Nelson #Charlie Spring #HeartStopper season 2 #This has been a rant

[tezuze]

Hi I’m gonna rant about Ghost Game for a second

Not to meaning to add to the endless “What the hell happened to Ghost Game????” discourse but uh, yeah I guess I am contributing to that

I have quite a bit to say about my theories on what I think went wrong and what they could’ve done better and why I desperately do not want a season 2 (I know the irony of how that looks on me) but if I wrote all that in one space I think it would be so long that even I would start begging for me to shut up

So, I’m going to split these up into more digestible categories that I’ll write whenever I’m procrastinating

In case I never get around to anything else, I’m going to start with the biggest loss to me, how I think the Digimon were supposed to influence their tamer’s personal growth and visa-versa

I’ll put the rest below the cut before I get outta hand

Hiro and Gammamon: Augh. These two frustrate me the most. So much lost potential in my book, but I would feel weird putting the mc anywhere but the top of the list, so I decided to put them in the order they join the cast and therefore you get my most passionate feelings first.

Almost one of the first things we learn about Hiro as a character is how self-sacrificing he is. He’s your stereotypical mc who wants to help everyone, but the narrative points out that he’s willing to be helpful at the expense of his own wellbeing, which paints his conventionally good trait as a flaw. And that’s about all they touch on in the base show, with a lot of reading between the lines. I would’ve loved to see the ramifications of his self-sacrificing nature and have the cast point out how he’s really harming himself and stretching himself thin just to appease others. I don’t think the “being helpful is good, but not at the expense of your health” moral is touched on enough so I always get excited when stories have that as one of their themes.

And then there’s his partner, Gammamon, the exact opposite of Hiro. He’s needy, dependent, wild, and selfish at the start. He doesn’t care about others (or their belongings). He’s demanding. He’s destructive. He proves to be a handful for our polite little Hiro, especially with his dad missing and this responsibility suddenly thrusted upon him.

I would’ve loved to see Gammamon teach Hiro to be a little more selfish (or at least, more self-preserving), while Hiro teaches Gammamon to be more considerate and tame. Of course, we see Gammamon grow in this way but the story doesn’t really make it clear that it was necessarily Hiro’s doing or give much of a catalyst at all for why Gammamon has personal growth other than it would be troublesome to have such a brat as the main creature. Now, I know that Guilmon’s arc was kinda similar in that they didn’t have direct events or anything that would make him mature, but it still felt more… realistic? Tended to? Idk I’m going to force myself to move on.

Ruli and Angoramon: Honestly just kinda disappointed with the lack of attention these two got in general in comparison to the other pairs, but I digress.

We meet Ruli with the impression that she’s brash, headstrong, and charismatic. She does things her way on a whim. Especially in the first few and select episodes, but in my opinion, it seemed like they kinda pushed her to the background and her personality was very passive and mild at times (and I don’t think that was on purpose).

Similarly to Hiro and Gammamon, Angoramon has quite a few contrasting personality traits. He’s softspoken, knowledgeable, and introspective. When Hiro first meets Angoramon, he doesn’t want to reveal himself because he’s nervous and doesn’t want to be a bother.

I think these two were supposed to balance each other out. Ruli would learn to think about things more and not run in half-cocked, maybe start to appreciate the more slow and peaceful things in life like nature and reading (Yeah Ruli, don’t think I forgot about that scene where Angoramon wanted you to read one of his favorite books and you DIDN’T and never DID). Meanwhile, Angoramon would come out of his shell more from sticking around Ruli. Possibly learn not to be so overbearing? Idk, honestly I don’t think Angoramon has as much room for growth because he seems the most level-headed character in the cast.

Lastly,

Kiyoshiro and Jellymon: Now, I know I have some bias toward these two so it might seem I’m giving them the benefit of the doubt but I’m going to try to come at them as objectively as I can.

They kinda half-executed what I think they were going for with these two, so they don’t offend me as much (which I think is part of the reason why I like them so much), but a full written out arc between them would’ve been a dream.

Kiyoshiro at the beginning of the series is, well, a sniveling inconsolable scaredy cat. On top of that, he’s kind of cocky and stuck up, obsessed with order and somewhat an introvert (to a lesser extent and differently than angoramon, in the “can’t relate to other humans” kinda way). Outside of his flaws, he is at least kind and pure of heart (I mean his name more or less means “pure white”) with a strong sense of justice and morals.

Jellymon, the devil creature, is so chaotic her intro episode goes right for the “everyone is going to die and it’s all Jellymon’s fault” thing. She has her moments of scheming and kinda like Gammamon, is pretty selfish and demanding with hints of Ruli’s recklessness as well.

As far as their canonic growth goes, Jellymon’s the only one that sees the bravery in her darling, which helps him nurture that courage and cast aside some of his fears (which, yay they actually kinda do in the series albeit pretty indirectly and kinda inconsistently). Also, the narrative never outright says Kiyo is lonely but he surely doesn’t have any companions, but we can see him grow on his partner and admit that it’s nice to have such a close friendship (pretty sure the whole “I like humans” thing was directed at Jellymon, even though she’s not human shhhhh it makes sense I promise)

Now for what they didn’t really touch on, I think these two were supposed to break each other’s stubbornness. I think Jellymon was supposed to show Kiyo how to relax more and not become so absorbed in studies/research and such. We meet him already knowing he has a love for anime, idols and the like so I’m not sure if he could really learn the lesson to appreciate more of the little things, but maybe she’d show him to love some more like, people-centered type things? (I mean she does love festivals). On the flip side, I think Kiyo was supposed to use not his classroom knowledge, but his personal knowledge to show Jellymon all there is to love about humanity outside of their monetary worth and give her a genuine love for the human world. Oh yeah, and teach her to stop scamming people.

“”””I’m gOinG tO tRy To LiMiT mY BiAs oN KiYoSHiRo aNd jElLyMoN”””””””” *Proceeds to spend half my rant talking about Kiyoshiro and Jellymon even though I think they did them pretty well*

Anyway, would love to hear other’s opinions on this as well as if it seems like I’m reaching and there weren’t supposed to be arcs like this. I just feel like the characters are too inherently flawed and contrast too perfectly with their Digimon for them not to have intended some more character-centered personal growth arcs.

I’m sorry and thank you for reading my dumb thoughts.

#digimon #digimon ghost game #gg sort #ghost game #hiro amanokawa #ruli tsukiyono #kiyoshiro higashimitarai #gammamon #angoramon #jellymon #text post #wall of text #fandom analysis

[hexitca]

Rant about Puritan fandom culture!

Well I typed it on twitter but then I had more to say so tumblr it is!

Under read more

WARNING: Long as fuck

Here's some pics

I know I basically said the author of Heartstopper "brought it on themselves" but yea they kinda did.

You can disagree with BL/Yaoi you can hate the shipping discourse or shipping in fandom in general but you cant frame it in a "i hate [that] bc it's sinful/fetishistic and I'M ABOVE THAT BC I'M WHOLESOME AND BETTER THAN THOSE DISGUSTING SHIPPERS"

bc that's gonna bite you in the ass...as it is doing now. The fucking image of their character's google history is so tame and normal, esp in LGBTQ+ spaces! Yet they are being called a pedo? Crazy. In the end, you only hurt yourself!

I never bothered with HS bc i just wasnt interested in it but thats just my preference. It's sad to see ppl, esp young ppl, turn on a series of LGBTQ+ representation just bc of the author's past (or current? idk) stance on the BL/Yaoi or MLM or whatever genre just bc their stance wavered a bit in a simple comic image. Something that is so fucking normal also! but they will grow up and realized how limiting it is to restrict themselves just to appear pure within a group.

Yet the artists/writers/creators are traumatized by the witchhunt. I know I said the author brought it on themselves for supporting anti but damn I don't want them being accused of being a pedo! Or ANYTHING! NO ONE DESERVES THAT. I dont know anything about the author other than surface knowledge but at the end of the day, all this online shit, doesnt matter. It doesnt! Me saying that is ironic bc im typing this post up right now!

but it's something we care about! I care about fandom spaces, I care that creators are getting attack for something as mild as this even if they invited these ppl into their circle. We're human and we change our views a million times a fucking day. I could agree with one thing and disagree with it another. That's why anti discourse pisses me the hell off! It's just a bunch of bullies looking to make themselves feel better by shaming others! I don't respect that type of behavior. And I hate that they just run around saying shit like "kys" over a two characters fucking?!? It amazes me beyond words.

Fandom has never been without its discourse. But the puritan bullshit is not even fandom discourse, it's just straight up bullying and harassment. It doesnt take much to tailor your fandom spaces to your preferences, i should know ive been in fandom spaces since I was fucking 13 years old. I didn't explore nsfw/porn/anything until I wanted to when I was 18. That is MY personal experience. I never put that on anyone else BUT MYSELF. If I saw nsfw and didnt want to see it I blocked the person. Not make a fucking witch hunt out of it. You are in charge of keeping YOURSELF in check not some person who shared nsfw art/fanfic. How fucking hard is it to turn the "don't show me nsfw" toggle on??? Bc it's not about that. Y'all just wanna be mad and be above someone so why not ppl minding their own business.

And guess what? There ARE ppl who are bad and support nsfw art/writing. They fucking suck. They are outliers and deserve to be called out when they get exposed. But many times, ppl always go "see i told you all the ppl in THAT fandom were pedos/freaks/etc" hmmm sounds like when conservatives go "see...that queer person turned out to be bad, SO all queer ppl are bad" DO YOU GET IT?? It never works out with that line of thinking. You are harming innocent ppl minding their own business. You are harming yourselves when you grow the fuck up and realize that "OH actually...I am curious about sex" and have ppl who you thought were your friends eat your face. PLS wake the fuck up.

If you're an anti:

I hope you recover from that

go fuck yourself

if you're offended by me saying "go fuck yourself", pls take that as a sign to log off the internet and go touch grass. As someone who has done that many of times, it's very refreshing.

#fandom #fandom culture #fandom discourse #purity culture #i might go touch some grass for the rest of the week/weekend holy shit #this is why i try not to be on twitter a lot bc tumblr im at least in my own spaces with minor breaches of stupidity #twitter it just throws it in on my tl and i get fucking triggered and angry #ill be taking a long break from twitter holy shit

[butterfly--empress]

So About BnHA…

Man! I don’t participate much on here but it sure has been an interesting popcorn eating time, lurking through the good, the bad, and the annoying posts in the spoiler chapter tags. For this week’s chapter, especially!

Not gonna rant (I save those for close friends on discord) 

I do notice that lines within this crazy ass fandom have been drawn, tears have been shed and righteous fury has been felt. And no matter wtf Mister Horikoshi has in stored for chapter 320, it’s going to be a make or break chapter for a lot of folks. I did try my best to keep this post Bakugou neutral grounds. I don’t think I’ve bashed nor favored the character just fyi.

But the most inconspicuous opinions can be taken too serious these days…

The Silly:

For chapter 320 onwards, I am and have ALWAYS BEEN 100% Team: The Legend, The Myth, The Champ, Izuku ‘Feral!Rabbit-Cryptid!’ Midoriya! Win or Lose, I ride or die with Midoriya, hands down! ON GOD!

While everybody yelling into the tumblr void over whose gonna win or lose.

I’m sitting here thinking about two things: A) Has no one thought that maybe some of Class 1-A might side with Deku? *coughsUraraka/Iida/Todorokicoughs* *coughsmaybeevenMineta/Asui/Yaoyorozu???coughs* *coughs maybe even a surprise Shinsou/class1-b reveal even though class 1-b don’t know deku that well* B) Did everyone forget in all the excitement that uhh my boi has yet to unlock the 2nd OFA user’s quirk???

I mean, I’m not saying if it does come down to a bawl of drama and angst, that Izuku’s gonna win.

But I am saying, if it does come down to a bawl of drama and angst, that Izuku’s gonna win…I regret nothing with this bet! If my boi loses we just gonna take that L but…ya know…*shrugs*…Baby, beat their Bakugou’s collective asses.

The Serious:

Personally, I honest to god really love this shounen series with all my heart. It is the anime that reignited my love for shounen after my fatigued of constant disappointment with two old shounen favorites. 

Now, having said all that: I truly have not had a serious issue with the writing choices made by Horikoshi. Yes, I have my…gripes…(it’s complicated) but considering what I got compared to the stuff I’ve watched/read in the past, it’s definitely better to me. Having read/watched a lot of anime/manga and shounen, (I haven’t watched them ALL, srsly after my great disappointment and real life I sort of had an anime dry spell if you must know. Watched some stuff here and there when I could/in the mood but not as frequent as I’ve done like yrs ago), I’ve come to learn to just…begrudgingly accept/expect certain; I suppose you can say, writing choices or ‘tropes’ that I can just easily ignore them, roll my eyes when I see them, and still enjoy whatever I’m invested in at the time. 

The only real frustrations I have is with a certain character. Yes, I mean Bakugou. I have come to tolerate him, I have come to begrudgingly like him, especially after a second rewatch of the series, I could see and accept that in a very typical shounen way, Bakugou did change, though very little, and it’s subtle and undeniably frustrating how it’s happening but it’s there. However, I do question Horikoshi’s writing choices when it comes to him at times. I see the character development, I know it’s there but….*sighs*

Now I’m one of these people who do believe that the creator of this universe, actually knows wtf he’s doing with his own story (even if rabid/hormonal younger fans loudly disagree but YMMV). One thing I’ve noticed, for the most part, he doesn’t just write/draw things for the hell of it, even if a certain plot or a certain character’s development takes a snail’s pace to get to the point. The conclusion of building up to arcs do have a pay off. (And I 100% understand that for some people, moving at a snail’s pace just don’t cut it. Everything cannot please everybody all of the time and that is FINE!)

Katsuki Bakugou…I know the crumbs and very subtle ways he’s changed have to lead somewhere and to something huge. When Bakugou admits to All Might he bullied Midoriya when they were kids, I had an ‘ah ha!’ Moment. The fact that a very prideful guy like Bakugou was finally starting to admit just that much, (even though, we the audience knows it runs way deeper than he’s admitting here) even in his frustrating roundabout way I like to think this is progress, is very in-character and cannot just be for the hell of it. It has to be leading up to something else other than Bakugou jumping in to take that hit for Deku during the war arc. There is unresolved tension still between Bakugou and Midoriya that is not going to just go away because they will it to.

Which brings us to Chapters 318 and especially 319. It’s the perfect set up for all the dirty skeletons to come out of the closet that both Bakugou and Midoriya have been avoiding/trying to pretend doesn’t exists between them, because it’s been a long time coming. The honest to god truth? This is actually how I always thought this confrontation will go, with a showdown that forces Midoriya into a corner where all those repressed negative feelings he’s bottled up inside is bound to come out; Because I Honestly think Izuku would take what Bakugou’s done to him to his grave if he had it, his way. (Boy can be very frustratingly stubborn when he wants to be).

It’s just, after saying all this, I don’t hold my breath that Horikoshi will take it there…The opportunity is there, I want it to go there, it NEEDS to go there! In order for both characters to come out for the better. But will Mister Horikoshi ‘DO THE THING?’

Remains to be seen. A little bit of me is hopeful, another part of me is resigning myself to feeling dissatisfied with what little we got for Bakugou’s character development and by proxy, Izuku’s getting stuck in limbo. I’m not kidding, Bakugou being a very contentious character within this fandom doesn’t just come from nowhere. But this post isn’t about me ranting into the void about Bakugou. (I don’t even think I can muster up the rage I felt the first time watching MHA blindly to rant to high hell about the bullshit Bakugou’s done now.)

I suppose I will just have to internally scream for 1,000 yrs over half baked character development if Horikoshi doesn’t do the FUCKING THING in giving a satisfying pay off to Katsuki and Midoriya’s history. I’ll just frustratingly chalk it up to old freaking shounen logic and just continue to enjoy the series because I’ve been here for Izuku Midoriya since ep 1 and I am not about to let Bakugou or Horikoshi’s unwillingness to do something with him derail that. And there’s always hoping that someone is writing some really good Bakugou gets actual Consequences fanfic out there because ooh boy…I like Bakugou but mofo can catch these hands…and I’m not even a fighter, but Bakugou…this lil shit does make you want to choke the hell out of him at times. 

I haven’t been this emotionally frustrated over an anime character since…maybe fucking Louise from Zero no Tsukaima and it takes a LOT to make me actually dislike characters, good or bad. 

All in All: Regardless of how the story goes from here on out, we are all about to lose our collective shits. No matter how you feel about which characters…

It’s about to go down!

#anti Bakugou #anti bakugo #bnha recent chapters #tried to stay neutral #but the side that loathes Bakugou #started to peek through #opps that #just my humble 2 cents #either take it or leave it #I don’t have the energy to argue with ‘children’ #over my own shared thoughts #compared to what I can do #this mild…rant is tame #gawd i miss internet 1.0 #where i could intentionally avoid the parts of fandom #that i did not want to interact with ever #and rabid fans were a thing you heard of but never if you were lucky actually had to deal with

[th84u]

title: 2:25 am

contents: best friend! hongjoong x gn! reader. mild angst, fluff, suggestive. mentions of a breakup and cheating, hongjoong is a tease, dom! reader x sub! hongjoong (no smut!)

word count: 0.9k

note: i’m super tired rn and i’m going to bed after this, but i’ll be posting more timestamps (hopefully) soon!

there was something odd about an artist’s inspiration. it always hit at the latest of nights– when the world was asleep, but creative minds were wide awake and sleepless.

right now, you were acting on one of those ‘late night inspirations’.

“i came to rant about my break up,” hongjoong groans as you grab his cheeks, forcing to face you again. “not help you with a raunchy photoshoot.”

clicking your tongue, you swipe your thumb across his lips, trying to blend the lipstick properly. “shut up, hongjoong. at least i’m putting these lips of yours to good use,” you mumble, thumb slipping past his lips slightly.

it’s the way you can feel his teeth on your skin that makes your breath hitch slightly. your budding feelings for your best friend never died down, even after he got into a relationship (not that it mattered now). hongjoong, oblivious as ever, continues to ramble on.

“all i wanted was my best friends to listen to the story of how i caught my girlfriend cheating on me,” he grumbles and you burst out laughing, giving him a sarcastically incredulous look.

he rolls his eyes as you hum, staring at the boy. “something’s missing,” you mumble to yourself.

the red head hums in response. “maybe some lipstick marks across my chest?” he says teasingly, pulling his low cut shirt away to expose his chest slightly before shying away. “i’m just joking–”

“that’s a great idea!”

hongjoong was evidently taken aback by how excited you were by that idea as he shifted slightly when your eyes lit up. “you’re a genius sometimes, joong,” you grinned as the boy tried to figure out if you were complimenting or insulting him (he never figured it out).

swiping your thumb across your own lips, you miss the way hongjoong stares at them. there’s a hunger in his gaze, a growing excitement that cannot be tamed nor controlled. he gulps, eyes darting around the room, trying to avoid your lips as much as possible.

putting the lipstick on, you smack your lips in an overly exaggerated manner. turning back to hongjoong, you finally realise what you were about to do and that flusters you greatly.

“m-maybe this was a bad idea,” you stutter out, slowly moving away, but hongjoong doesn’t allow you to. his leg promptly hooks the back of your knee, tugging it.

falling with a loud yelp, your arm moves out and you grab the back of the couch. hongjoong holds your other hand, a grin spreading across his face when you both realise how close your faces were.

“no,” he says softly, moving closer. “you said it was a great idea. do it.”

there’s a teasing tone in his voice that makes your cheeks flush. on one hand, your brain is screaming at you to stop, but your heart is pounding against your rib cage, adrenaline rushing through your veins. you liked that feeling too much to let it go now.

nodding, you enjoy the confused look on hongjoong’s face on a moment before you yank his shirt off, prying it off as his cheeks turned a deep shade of red. “w-wait, i didn’t–” he whimpers when your lips meet his cold skin, pressing soft kisses down his neck.

“isn’t this what you wanted?” you ask, grinning at the red head who can only look down at you helplessly, eyes large and glistening under the lights. he looks ethereal.

you unconsciously lick your lips and he gulps, whimpering even more. “don’t do that, joong,” you say, trying to lace the fear in your voice with sternness. “i was just showing you the consequences of your actions— you can stop acting now.”

pulling away, you wipe the lipstick harshly, smudging it across your face. as you’re about to grab the crushed roses on the table, hongjoong grabs your hand, tugging you back.

everything was a blur for a moment, but one thing’s for sure: hongjoong now had you on his lap. face ablaze, you turn to look at your friend almost angrily, but the needy look on his face shuts you up immediately.

“please, y/n,” he whines, grinding his hips against yours, sending shivers down your back. “please, touch me.”

“joong–” you’re conflicted. “we can’t. you’re my best friend, and i don’t want to be your rebound,” you lament, but he isn’t having any of it.

hongjoong’s arm snakes around your hips, pulling you closer as he continued to create any sort of friction possible.

you’re holding back, biting down on your lip as the pleasure from his hips moving against yours sent you through a spiral of conflict between logic and emotions.

“please, please, y/n, please,” he whines, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. it’s a rather surprising yet loving act in that moment and he knew that you’d swoon a little from it. “please just let me make you feel good tonight,” he begs.

inhaling a sharp breath, you weigh the pros and cons quickly inside your head. the cons heavily outweighed the pros, but you were never one to listen to your own brain, were you?

“fuck it,” you growl, pulling the boy by his collar and kissing him as harshly as possible. he reciprocates, muttering ‘thank you’s in between your rough kisses. “by the time i’m done with you, all you’ll know how to do is cum and cry,” you whisper into hongjoong’s ear and he lets out a wanton moan.

you knew you’d regret this the next morning, but that would be your problem tomorrow.

#ateez #x reader #ateez imagines #hongjoong #fanfiction #ateez fics #ateez fic #kim hongjoong #ateez smut #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong fanfiction #hongjoong imagine #ateez imagine #suggestive #ateez suggestive

[thebonejunky]

Warning for this (rant? Messy essay?) I am going to be VERY blunt. So don't go complaining in the replies. I just need people to understand this issue.

Was gonna talk about this anyway but Turning Red has really hardened my resolve to address this. TEENAGERS ARE NOT INNOCENT. TEENAGERS ARE NOT PURE. teens and tweens are horny and have crushes and make crass and sexual jokes and curse and even have sex with each other! People who are saying Turning red is "adultish" obviously do not remember what it was like to be 13. But I was 13 only three years ago, so i can with certainty that that is exactly what they think about and how they act. It isn't inappropriate to acknowledge this. Of course it's creepy if an adult were to be writing or drawing minors doing explicitly sexual things for the purpose of sexual gratification, but to include these themes in stories, or just bring them up, is not wrong. Its realistic.

I see this a lot on twitter. I had come across someone trying to get people to report and unfollow someone because they made a "sexual" joke about lumity. The joke was very tame, obviously not intended to say "hey! Im a pedophile sexualizing these kids!" and i honestly thought it was funny. Because from my perspective as a teenager, luz and amity experiencing sexual attraction towards each other, or even acting on it in mild ways is likely and relatable. That's not wrong for someone the same age as them, or even an adult, to acknowledge. Because its a real thing in the real world that people experience everyday. Because everyone has or will experience it. I think people who are online too much forget that some things are actually normal and occur in everyday life. These people aren't creating a more inclusive and safe space. They're creating shame. Fandom spaces have been so plagued by soft boi uwu'ness and purism and a disconnect from reality that people seem to forget that teenagers fuckin have sex in school bathrooms and make out in hallways and shit. Literally like 3 weeks i walked into two people having sex in the bathroom at school! Literally everyday me and my friends make sexual jokes! I once overheard a group of girls explicitly talking about how they wanted to fuck some guy! Cause that's what its like to be a teenager! Because were constantly being effect by puberty and hormones that are out of our control!

It isn't bad for a teenager, to have sexual thoughts or create sexual material, about another teenager(which i feel like should be obvious). I once saw someone say in an anonymous ask that they felt guilty for writing smut fanfiction about two underaged characters even though they're the same age as said characters(15). The responder pretty much just said "that's still wrong and you shouldn't do that". Obviously, the anon could be lying about their age. But hypothetically, if they were 15, why would that be wrong of them to do? Why would it be wrong of a 15 year old to find a 15 year old character attractive? Or have sexual thoughts and feelings about them? Or to safely explore these thoughts and feelings through writing? It's things like this that have been continuously creating shame and embarrassment in adolescence for things that are completely natural for like forever. That makes teenagers feel like they can't talk about this stuff and repress themselves and end up engaging in unhealthy outlets for these feelings.

It isn't wrong for teenagers to think someone is hot or sexy. It isn't wrong for teenagers to become aroused or masturbate. It isn't wrong for teenagers to look at porn. It isn't wrong for teenagers to engage in sexual activity with one another! It isn't always "right" per se, but it's not wrong. It's a normal and common thing that im so glad is being acknowledged (in a mild way) in Turning Red. I think more movies centered around teens need to include those themes. I think fandom spaces need to stop treating teenaged characters like they're pure and sexless beings.

Again, if an adult is treating this as "im gonna create explicit material of minors for my own satisfaction" than yeah, that's fucking disgusting. But for someone to bring this up, to discuss it in a tasteful and civilized way, to be inspired by their own experiences or what they relate to, is not wrong.

#how do i tag this lol #turning red #writing #analysis #lumity #coming of age #long post #twitter #i guess i could be biased? since im a teenager? #but i think that makes me opinion on this fresh and more trustworthy #since im experiencing this RIGHT now

[quickreaver]

Today’s fandom smoke-grinding. Mild ranting about modding events and, well, fandom.

If you’re going to run an event that centers a particular character (*cough* Sam Winchester *cough*) from a particular show (you know the show), as well as a particular theme (it may be witchcraft), maaaaaybe you should, you know, actually know a lil’ sumthin’sumthin’ about that character and that theme? If you have a good handful of mods working on said event and not a single one of them has hardly a thing about that character in their tumblrs, nor the chosen focus of the challenge, I have to wonder. If you don’t, in truth, bother much with the character, on the regular, why’re you doing this? Is this really the best way to get to know him, and/or the coordinating theme? Are you going to be able to adequately respond to the needs of the folks who might actually legit enjoy this event? Or is this, hmm, a way to ‘weekend warrior’ the situation? You kinda like the idea of the character as ‘x’, and you’re curious, but you don’t really want to dig in deep. It’s fine to just want a little fluff and fun, cherry-pick the cute, tame, glossy, easy-to-like stuff. The dazzle and the flower crowns and the wee black kittens. This is why Ren Faires are so popular! :D Which is valid! Fandom can do pretty much whatever it likes, and never underestimate the power of schmoop. But ... just but. It feels like a sliver of what could be. And also, hey, if you can’t handle one of the main ships for the character in question, nor some of the more mature topics that are highly likely to surface given the fandom and the theme, this might not be a great event for you to mod. Or, better yet, make the event all gen and PG. Then you don’t have to fret about excluding specific things or folks being unable to work the filter function on any given site. 

#fandom wankish #really it's just me whinging about silly stuff #carry on #there's nothing to see here...

[yourdeepestfathoms]

in aeternum, little lamb

(Read Anne as Courtney!Anne)

Word count: 4756

Prompt: “Look, I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone.”

———————

It was raining. Again.

Usually a rainstorm was serene and peaceful, normal for London, but there was a certain sticky humidity in the air that made going outside a chore. It was cold, yet uncomfortably warm at the same time with no wind blowing to ease the mild heat that has settled its oppressive, sultry murk over the city. It spilled into every street, every alleyway, every house that dared to open the window, thinking that it would help with the clamminess that fogged their home, but to no avail.

This, of course, brought upon complete and utter dreariness that coated every person making their rounds through their daily lives.

Anne’s forehead was dotted with beads of sweat by the time she arrived at the theater, only then really regretting her decision to walk to work. She hadn’t been expecting the humidity to be that bad, but here she was, feeling like she was leaking steam from every pore.

“God, this weather is miserable,” Jane was grumbling in her dressing room when Anne peeked in. She was currently attempting to tame her wild blonde hair (and losing the battle), which had a small (read as: large, high, anything but small) tendency to frizz up in high vaporous atmospheres like the one drenching London on that day.

“You look great, Jane.” Anne laughed, leaning on the doorframe. She gets a piercing grey glower shot in her direction, but isn’t phased by it. The coldness of the stare almost eased her internal temperature.

“Why is it so damn humid?” Jane finally exclaimed. “We live in London! Not Florida or whatever the fuck it’s called—”

Anne bit both lips, trying to hold back her laughter at the proper fit the queen before her was throwing.

“It’s supposed to be rainy and cold. Not rainy and a LITERAL SAUNA!”

Kitty, who was sitting nearby at her own makeup table, giggled softly. She got up and picked up a brush to help with her mother’s wild hair, which was definitely puffing up as if she were an angry cat or a distressed Studio Ghibli character.

“I don’t know, Jane,” Anne laughed slightly. “Well, I’m going to go get a cup of coffee. You two need anything?”

“Yeah,” Jane said. “A word with Mother Nature.”

Anne laughed again, waved a hand, and walked off to the break room.

Well- it wasn’t really a break room, per se. Theaters didn’t really have those. It was just an extra dressing room that nobody used and had a microwave, mini fridge, and coffee machine inside. In some way or another, a round bar table, small couch, and two beanbags ended up inside- Anne couldn’t really remember how they got there, but they were there and, thus, the room became a nice place to chat and relax when nothing was going on. Kitty had once even hid under the twin beanbags during a game of hide-and-seek (which was also her idea).

Upon stepping inside the break room, the scent of coffee bombarded Anne’s nose. The coffee machine was still on, but little was left in the pot. She walks over to it, thinking it was enough to sate her- she didn’t really like coffee, but she needed the extra rush to help her combat the dreariness the weather was inflicting upon her.

“Sorry,” A voice from behind suddenly said. “If I had known you wanted some, I would have made more.”

Anne actually jumped and she whirled around to see none other than the music director sitting in one of the beanbags. She jumped, too, and straightened up, nearly spilling the mug she had placed beside her pillowy seat.

“Sorry!” She said again. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Anne placed a hand over her racing heart and waved the other dismissively, laughing.

“It’s alright!” She assured the girl. “I didn’t see you at all!”

Joan smiled slightly, humoring her comment, then slumped back over to continue reading the book she had in her lap.

Anne studies her for a moment- as everyone said, Joan wasn’t much for conversation, despite always lurking on the edges of a group discussion. It was like she wanted to join in or just talk to someone, but didn’t have the courage to do so. Perhaps she was worried about being ignored or rejected, so, instead, she just watched in silence.

Maybe that’s why a few younger stagehands who were working there for college credit started calling her the “Theater Ghost.” Anne couldn’t really deny that that title wasn’t accurate- her not noticing the girl at all just proved that it was.

“Did you drink all of this?” She asked, trying to strike up a conversation to make things less awkward. Tenseness was as thick as the humidity outside in that room.

“It’s not that big of a pot...” Joan sort of mumbled.

So, yes. She did.

Anne frowned slightly. She vaguely knew of Joan’s caffeine addiction, but never really saw it first hand. She just knew that the girl drank more coffee than everyone working on the show combined.

“I see,” Anne chuckled. “Well, alright.”

She turned around while waiting for the pot to fill to see that Joan was looking at her. However, when she noticed, Joan snapped her head back down to her book. Anne furrowed her eyebrows.

“What are you reading?”

“Huh?” Joan seemed...surprised that Anne was asking her something. “Oh, it’s just- it’s just some silly book.” She kicked her leg anxiously against the beanbag, seemingly trying to hype herself up for something. “It’s, umm- it’s called Wings of Fire.”

She brandishes the book, keeping one finger inside the pages to mark her spot. On the cover was a flying gold and black dragon with four insect wings, spines along the back, and funny little glasses on the snout (something about dragons having eyesight care and possibly dragon eye doctors stood out as silly to Anne).

“It looks good,” Anne said after inspecting the picture.

“Oh, it is!” Joan said, perking up slightly. “It’s about these ten dragon tribes and five baby dragons were supposed to be born on The Brightest Night and be the Dragonets of Destiny to stop the war between three Sandwings fighting to be queen. So they’re kept underground, but their caretakers are kinda abusive and mean. Probably because the Skywing egg was destroyed so they had to replace it with a Rainwing egg, which are supposed to be the laziest tribe and that makes Kestrel- the really mean guardian- mad. So she’s kinda a jerk to the five dragonets. But then they break out of their cave before they’re supposed to leave when they’re six, because they have to wait until they’re seven, only to be captured by the Skywing queen! And they’re forced to fight to the death and they’re almost killed because this one character, Peril, can burn everything she touches! But then it’s revealed that Clay, he’s the Mudwing, has fireproof scales! And Glory, she’s the Rainwing I was talking about, can spit venom!! Then they escape and go to the Seawing kingdom and Tsunami- the Seawing- is actually the missing Seawing princess and a statue was killing all the other eggs. Then they go to the rainforest and Glory becomes queen and Starflight goes blind in the fourth book and the end of the war happens in the fifth!!” She’s babbling about a hundred miles per minute- Anne can barely keep up. “We should- we should read it together! If you’re interested. Like a book club! Except I’m on the twelfth book right now and I don’t know how fast you can read and I just basically spoiled the entire series, hahaha...but only for the first five!! But the next arc isn’t that good if you ask me. It completely throws everything that has happened out the window and just puts new characters in a school? Which they barely even stay at! So why even make the school, Tui? And my favorite character in that segment is in a coma for, like, three of the five books in that arc!! Arc three is pretty cool, though. I like the new tribes. And Sundew is supposed to be a lesbian! With an actual girlfriend! And it’s a main plot point!!” She’s beaming now. “I just—I think you would really, really like it and, I dunno...it would be fun! I can read it aloud? N-not because I think you can’t read or anything, I just—like talking. To someone. And to make sure you don’t doze off and miss any of the really good parts! Because there are SO MANY even though Tui doesn’t seem to remember any of her world building half of the time, but—”

“Joan?”

“Yeah?”

“Breathe.”

Joan’s face flashed deep crimson. She hunched her shoulders around her neck and ducked her head, almost using her book as a shield to hide herself. It seems she just realized that she had been talking the green queen’s ear off.

“Sorry,” She whispered. “I-I just thought that you wanted to...” She shook her head. Her hands clench around the sides of her book. “Nevermind.”

“Joan-”

“Your coffee is gonna get cold.”

Anne looked at the full coffee pot, then back to the girl, and then walked over to get herself a cup. She can hear Joan shifting anxiously in the beanbag behind her.

Honestly, she found the girl’s deep interest in what she was reading quite endearing, she just didn’t know how to reply to her monologue in a way that showed that she actually was interested in what she was saying.

“Maybe send me the link to the book sometime?” Anne offered while heading for the door. “Or if you have a physical copy...”

“Yeah,” Joan smiles thinly- weakly. “I have some at home. I’ll give them to you tomorrow.”

“Sounds great.”

“Oh, and— Anne?”

Anne stopped right as she was walking out.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

Joan looked down shyly, shifting her legs.

“For talking to me.”

———

“She thanked me. For standing there while she was ranting about a book!”

The other queens looked rather amused by the story they were given during dinner. It wasn’t exactly the reactions Anne was hoping for- was nobody else concerned by the oddity of the situation?!

“Joan’s a...quirky kid.” Jane merely said. “She’s always been a little strange, Anne. I’m almost positive she was raised by literal street rats, so that might have something to do with it. Rats aren’t exactly much for conversation.”

Anne looked at her in shock. Of everyone to say such a thing, she hadn’t expected it to come from Jane “Protective and Loving Mom Friend” Seymour.

“Did you just—”

“Anne,” Jane sighed. “You know what I’m talking about. She worked for you! She’s just a weird kid. Kids are weird!”

“‘Weird’ is when a kid likes to watch snails go over salt and get burned, Jane. Thanking someone for listening to them talk about a book is concerning.” Anne argued.

“Cathy does it all the time.”

“Cathy doesn’t thank us!”

Anne was really getting worked up over this and she wasn’t exactly sure why. She really only got this way for Kitty or Maggie- she theorized it was those maternal instincts kicking in or just a natural protectiveness for an ex-maid in waiting.

Whatever it was, it sure seemed to be amusing to the others.

“Okay, calm down, Anne.” Cleves said, laughing slightly. “We get it, you think it’s worrying. No need to start a food fight over it.”

“I’m not going to-” Anne broke off into agitated grumbling, which caused even more giggles in reaction.

“I said thank you to Catherine when I read to her yesterday,” Cathy said.

“That’s because you were asking her opinion on a chapter you wrote!” Anne struck back. “It is NOT the same thing!”

Cathy shrugged and took a bite out of her pork chop.

“It’s nothing you should stress about, Annie.” Kitty said. “Maybe some people are just meant to be alone!”

Anne gave her a look of disbelief.

“Like Henry.” Cleves put in helpfully.

“Like Henry, yeah!”

Now, don’t get Anne wrong, she loved her little found family with the queens very much, but, at that moment, she wanted to hit all of them with the salad bowl at the center of the table as hard as she could.

Maybe not Aragon, though (unfortunately). The woman hadn’t told Anne to forget about the situation or just move on- she was thoughtfully silent, eating her dinner in reserved peace. Whatever her opinion on the argument was, she didn’t say it.

Anne sighed, putting her head in one hand as she picked at her dinner until Aragon finally spoke up to tell her to get her elbow off the table. She begrudgingly obeys.

Like that, the conversation is dropped and something new, something Anne really didn’t care about was talked about.

After dinner, Anne decided to do some snooping on her laptop. First, she looked up historical information on Joan, only to find nothing. Every website was just the same thing over and over again- literally. It was just copied and pasted from the extremely short and vague Wikipedia page on the girl. The names of her parents weren’t even recorded, nor was any childhood information. There was barely even anything on her time as a lady in waiting, which only covered her work under Jane and not either of the cousins.

She had a son named Hercules, though. If that meant anything.

Next, Anne went to Joan’s Instagram page. It had several hundred followers, mainly from the fans who insisted on following everyone associated with the show, and was filled with the normal posts the actors usually had- although there were very few compared to the queen’s and other ladies in waiting’s accounts. Most of the photos were of her work or her playing the songs on her piano or of selfies of her in the band costume.

In almost all of them, she was completely alone.

Anne searched for something- she didn’t know what exactly, just something- in the seventh-five posts on the account, then went to the photos Joan was tagged in. There weren’t many- just group photos and a few good shots of her from a MegaSix and a single appreciation post (she vaguely remembered Joan telling them about it and how giddy it had made her...nobody had really listened to the babbling at the time).

And then Anne found a certain photo- the first one she was ever tagged in: it was a photo of her costume laid out on a table with the caption, “Here’s the lady in waiting costume! I’ll be posting about SIX more on my other account, so follow if you’re interested!”

The name of the account was @force-be-with-ewe.

Anne clicked on it.

force-be-with-ewe

i just really like drawing sheep

Johanna-She/her-Asexual lesbian-Musician and artist

That’s the first thing Anne saw when she clicked on the account, along with an adorable profile picture of a sheep playing a piano, then the whopping twelve followers (most of which were ghosts or bots) and three hundred and nine posts.

It took Anne just a moment to realize that this was Joan’s personal account.

And she went through all of it.

The profile was a mishmash of drawings and piano videos and sheep. The latest post was actually a photo of a bird with a caption talking about how the little guy had been visiting Joan’s bedroom window every morning and “giving her a reason to get up because she had someone looking forward to seeing her.” She maturely and proudly dubbed the bird “Minecraft.”

After that were drawings of dragons with #wingsoffire and #wof in the descriptions, leading Anne to believe that they were characters from the book she had been told about earlier that day.

And they just kept going.

Among videos of Joan playing the theater keyboard when presumably nobody was around, were drawings of sheep playing various instruments and sleeping and being adorable, drawings of more dragons, drawings of a few Pokémon (mainly Snom, Wooloo, and Sobble). There were stunning drawings of giant creatures from a game called “Subnautica” and beautiful drawings of castles and scenery. There were even drawings of the queens!

Usually fans would tag them in art, but it appeared that Joan was too shy to do that. So, instead, she just left them floating in her profile with no ways to see the masterpieces, since there weren’t any hashtags on those.

Anne was genuinely amazed by the attention to detail in the sketches of her and her fellow queens and even more amazed by the drawings with watercolors. She swore the painting’s eyes had more color than her own and the costume was as vibrant as the actual one in real life.

It was beautiful. They were all beautiful.

Why didn’t Joan want anyone seeing these?

Anne kept scrolling and eventually came upon rather...concerning posts.

The first was of a messy, but haunting colored pencil sketch of a pitch black ram with inky, bleeding red eyes that seemed to stare through the screen and directly into Anne’s soul. The caption simply said, “Black Philip.”

Another was a drawing of a blonde girl, presumably Joan, leaking coffee from every single orifice on her face and was drawn with such detail that it would easily make an emetophobic’s stoamch churn with nausea.

And then there were a few of an ice dragon, slightly similar to one of the dragon tribes from the book, but this one notably had more icicle spikes, frayed scales, and jagged wings. It was moon silver in color with ice blue hues and eyes like a raging blizzard.

All the drawings done with this beast, which was apparently named “Killer Frost” (and has no ties to the Flash character of the same name), were normal- just it laying around, flying, standing atop icebergs menacingly or breathing a freezing death breath. But there were a few that stood out to Anne as worrying.

The first was of Kitty, actually. She was wearing her show costume and her eyes were closed with a peaceful expression on her face. And then there was the glittering paw of the ice dragon reaching down from the top of the image and cupping one of her cheeks with its serrated, barbed claws. The caption read, “The Chosen One.”

The second and much more concerning drawing was captioned, “Envy truly is a deadly sin.”

It was a drawing of Killer Frost crouched in a feral position, staring forward with blazing eyes, jaw hanging open and teeth bared, absolutely soaked in blood.

There was just blood everywhere. Blood on the body, blood on the claws, blood dripping in horrifying realistic threads from the mouth, blood all over the blank, white floor beneath the beast, blood squirting from the remains of the carcasses that had presumably been gored.

The image left Anne with so many questions- What did this represent? Who were those corpses? Was Joan jealous? And if yes, who was she jealous of?

One thing was certain, though- Joan was startlingly good at drawing gore. A sketch of Killer Frost holding its own gooey, bloody esophagus and larynx in another photo just proved that. There was even one of the dragon ripping its own throat out while the faint outline of what appeared to be three ghosts encouraged it.

It was strange to see such mishmashes of horror shoved in between adorable sketches of sleeping baby lambs and fluffy Wooloos. It also left Anne with growing worry for the artist.

When she finally finished going through the profile, Anne decided the follow the account and became the thirteenth follower.

This time, thirteen would not be an unlucky number.

———

Five books were left on Anne’s dressing room table the next day, all with a colorful dragon on the cover, and a note that read, “I didn’t know if you only wanted one book or all of them, so I just left the first arc. Let me know what you think! :) -Joan”

“Fan mail?” Cleves asked, peeking over to the table from where she was getting ready.

“Nah,” Anne replied. “Just some books.”

“Sounds very cool,” Cleves chuckled before returning to dousing her hair with hairspray.

“Extremely.” Anne said, then set out to find and talk to Joan before the show. She could get her hair and makeup done later!

Except she couldn’t find the girl anywhere. She asked around, but nobody knew where she went. And she was definitely there because Anne saw her onstage right before the performance, but, by then, it was too late to speak to her. Anne just decided to see her afterwards, which was easier said than done because, once again, Joan was nowhere in sight.

Anne was about to give up, since it was almost time to leave, but then she spotted the girl in the break room playing a card game by herself at the round bar table. She considered charging in and barking at her about where she’s been, but she didn’t want to freak her out, so she just walked in calmly.

“Hey, Joan,” She said cooly, noticing the way the music director’s hand froze as she was setting down a card. She grabbed a water bottle from the mini fridge and sat down at the chair across from Joan. “Whatcha doing?”

“Just...playing a card game my brother taught me.” The girl replied meekly.

Joan had a brother? The articles on her said nothing about him...

“You had cards back then?” Anne asked, as if she hadn’t been born in the same time period.

“No, we used strips of wood we would tear off from people’s houses and carved symbols on them with knives.”

Anne blinked.

“...Oh. That’s...”

“Concerning?” Joan finally glanced up from her deck of cards to look at Anne. A ghost of a smile graced her lips for a moment before she tilted her head back down with a light laugh. “I know.”

“Mind if I play?”

She’s glanced at again- scanned, as if Joan was expecting her to pull something and make a joke out of her. But then she gave in and began collecting the cards from how they’re laid out on the table.

“This game is too complicated to explain,” She said. “But we can play Speed?”

After a quick rundown of the rules, Anne agreed and the game began.

And honestly? It was great. Joan genuinely laughed and smiled as they playfully bickered and argued over the card game. She almost looked like a happy little lamb frolicking in a field of flowers.

On their third round, Kitty peeks into the break room.

“There you are, Annie!” She said. “I was looking for you!”

“Oh, hey, Kit!” Anne said. Out of the corner of her eye, she definitely saw Joan clench her jaw. The drawing of Kitty and Killer Frost’s claws and then the bloody sketch briefly flashed in her mind. “What’s up?”

“We’re leaving,” Kitty informed. “We had dinner plans tonight, remember?”

Joan sighed softly and began to pick up the cards. Anne gently pressed her hand down.

“I think I’m going to pass tonight, Kit.”

Both blondes looked shocked- Joan more than Kitty from the way her head whipped up fast enough to give her whiplash.

“How come?” Kitty asked, clearly confused. “I thought you really wanted to go to this pub...”

“I know, but I’m hanging out with Joan right now.” Anne said. “Just bring me home something if you can!”

Kitty blinked several times, glanced at Joan, then nodded and walked out.

“You didn’t have to stay,” Joan whispered.

“I wanted to, though.” Anne assured her. She gently took the deck of cards from Joan’s clenched hands and began dealing them out. “Wanna keep playing Speed or try War? I’ve played with Aragon before. I swear, she ALMOST broke my nose in anger!”

“You followed me last night.”

Anne blinked.

“Yeah, of course,” She said. “I had no idea you could draw so well. You’re very talented.”

A hot pink blush dusts Joan’s cheeks and she looked away. She anxiously plays with the corner of an ace of spades. The slight drizzle that had been tapping on the window starts to pick up.

“I-”

She’s embarrassed, Anne realized. Embarrassed and horrified because she knows Anne saw the gruesome drawings she had made.

She believes that Anne thinks she’s sick. Or a freak. Or a monster.

Anne would admit that they’re a little weird, but a lot of artists liked to make horrific art. Nothing wrong with that, especially if they were vents.

“Joan-”

“Why are you doing this?” Joan asked quietly. She looked up and centuries worth of loneliness and neglect and pain reflect in her stormy grey eyes. “What do you want?”

Finally, Anne understood.

“Look,” Anne said. “I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone.”

Joan froze. She just stared at Anne in shock for a long time before tears fill her eyes and start to run down her cheeks. She tries to stop them, but it’s clear she’s been bottling this all up for a long time and won’t be able to hold it back any longer.

“Y-you want to be my friend?” Joan whispered.

“Yes, Joan.” Anne answered her honestly, not missing a beat. “You deserve someone who cares about you.”

The most heartbreaking whimper Anne has ever heard strangled itself out of Joan’s throat. The tears start to come down faster.

“N-nobody— Nobody has ever w-wanted to—”

“Oh, Joan...”

Anne quickly got out of her chair and walked around to Joan’s side of the table. She wrapped her arms around the girl and she immediately slumped into her embrace, clinging back like Anne was her life line.

“Oh, Joan,” Anne said again. “Oh, you poor, sweet little thing...”

Joan began to openly sob against her shoulder. Her hands claw at the back of Anne’s shirt, desperate for a good hold.

“I’ve- I’ve been alone f-for so long—” She wept.

“Shh, shh,” Anne hushed her. She began to rub her back soothingly. “I’ve got you now, honey. I’ve got you. I won’t let you go.”

That elicits a sharp whimper from Joan, who burrows herself even closer to the queen’s warmth. And she stays like that, half slid out of her stool, clutching onto Anne Boleyn like her life depended on it until she was able to choke back the rest of her tears.

“Feeling any better?” Anne asked. She was still rubbing Joan’s back, as the girl had yet to pull back from the embrace.

Joan shrugged weakly. “A-little.” She croaked. “N-not...not good. But better. B-because you’re here.”

Anne’s heart simultaneously broke and melted.

“You sweet girl,” She said lovingly. “I want to be here for you from now on. Is that alright?”

Joan nodded. “Please...”

“Alright,” Anne said. She gently pressed Joan back and gave her her water bottle, which she never actually opened. “Drink something for me, sweetheart.”

Joan obeyed and took a few small sips of the water. It soothed her dry throat, which was weak from the outpour of emotions.

“Good girl,” Anne said encouragingly. “Hey, here’s an idea! Why don’t we go back to my house and watch a movie? I know there’s a tray of lasagna we could heat up! If you want to, that is.”

“N-no, that’s-” Joan sniffled. “I would really, really like that...”

Anne smiled warmly at her.

“Wonderful.”

———

When the other queens came home later that evening, none of them were expecting to see Anne sitting on the couch with the music director’s head in her lap, but that’s the sight they were greeted to.

They both looked content, Anne with a loving smile on her lips and Joan with a peaceful expression settled on her face as she slept. One of Anne’s hands was stroking through Joan’s hair and the other was holding a book, which she looked up from when the front door opened.

“Hey, ladies,” She said, momentarily setting down Wings of Fire- The Dragonet Prophecy. “How was dinner?”

———

A day later, Anne got a notification on her phone saying that @force-be-with-ewe had posted. When she checks it, she sees a digital drawing of Killer Frost being nuzzled lovingly by a large, emerald green dragon.

The caption simply reads, “Thank you for giving me a chance”

#six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six fic #six fanfiction #six fanfic #anne boleyn #jane seymour #katherine howard #joan on the keys #anna of cleves #catherine parr #catherine of aragon #nana boleyn #in aeternum little lamb

[likeshipsonthesea]

"I'll be right back" kisses for nurseydax!

thank you so much for this prompt! from this list the prompt: “I’ll be right back” kisses: A puts their hands on B’s shoulders from behind them, where they are sat on the couch. He leans down and around, while B turns his head a little, accepting the quick peck.

sorry for the late response, i had finals and then returning from the dead after finals and then work but i really wanted to write tonight so i sat down and wrote this out… hope y’all enjoy!

also yes i’ve been watching too many home improvement shows recently and it has become a problem. i don’t really care, though. good bones is the shit.

also also warning for mild homophobia (like, mentions of past instances) and references to anxiety, but p tame for one of my fics tbh. anywho, without further ado, here ya go!

         “Oh, no,”Ma says, her mouth wrinkled and pixelated through the laptop screen, “don’t youGod-darned dare pick the Super White over the Carrera.”

         Dex smothers his laughter into thethrow pillow Nursey picked out for their sofa and watches on as Mina tries toconvince Karen on the TV screen that they ought to go for Carrera marble forthe countertops in their newly renovated kitchen. Ma, completely unaware,full-on cheers when Karen finally gives in.

         “They almost ruined that kitchen.” Mashakes her head. “You see that Will—are you laughing at me? Are you laughing atyour mother right now?”

         Even the green and grey patternedpillow cannot contain Dex’s laughter, then, and he bursts out with giggles at Ma’saffronted expression. She continues to frown at him as the show—Good Bones—goesto commercial, but her lips twitch slightly, stilted over Skype, which givesaway the fact that she isn’t truly mad.

         It’s something of a guilty pleasure,this thing Dex does with Ma once or twice a month. It started when he was akid, when every so often he’d be permitted to stay up past bedtime to join Maon the couch and listen to her comment on home renovation shows the same wayDex’s uncles would yell along to hockey games. Ma has a very specific taste,which includes everything she personally likes and resents everything she does not.From the time Dex was six, he listened to Ma critique and care for various designand construction choices that cost more than the wages she’d make in a month,and soon he absorbed those sentiments to the point where, even today, his tasteis dictated by her own.

         (“I want to do a fun color in one ofthe rooms,” Nursey complained, standing in the paint aisle of the closest HomeDepot, holding up a swatch of orange-red sunset.

         The back of Dex’s neck tightened andhe shook his head. “How about a soft green?” He pointed at the second-to-topswatch on the sample card. “It won’t be too… abrasive, and we can pair stuffwith it way easier.”

         Nursey frowned momentarily, buteventually hummed thoughtfully and took the swatch. Dex—despite thecomplications of the fact that this paint choice resulted from him moving in witha man whom he loved—knew that, in this moment, Ma would be proud.)

         “How’s work, Ma?” Dex asks, ascommercials mean there’s time to catch up. “Carolyn still giving you trouble?”

         “No, you haven’t heard?” Ma gets all wide-eyed,like the ladies down at church when someone’s marriage gets rocky or a localson gets a grand idea and drops out of college because of it. “Carolyn quit,”Ma goes on, whispering even though Dad is most definitely sound asleep in theirbedroom by now. She starts gesturing, extravagant and unnecessary, the sameclumsy way Nursey loves to do, and Dex watches on, more amused than attentive.The nature of her rambling comforts him—it took them a bit to get back here,and Dex, for all that he can’t forget the way she stumbled back when it allhappened, is unavoidably grateful for the return to normalcy.

         (“Does it make me…” Dex trailed off,lying in bed, Nursey’s arm warm and heavy around his shoulder as they sharedthe too-small mattress of the old bunk beds. “I don’t know. Brainwashed? Tooforgiving? Desperate?”

         Nursey squeezed, tight and withouthesitation. “It’s not desperate to want a good relationship with your parents.”A light brush of lips against Dex’s temple. “People give up all sorts of thingsfor that. It doesn’t make you wrong. It just makes you human.”

         And Dex couldn’t argue with that, notwhen he knew all the things Nursey gave up for his parents to be able to smileeasy at him, without worry. Yeah, maybe not telling your parents about youranxiety is different than pretending like they never hesitated over loving youbecause of who you love, but if the result was the same… That was one of thethings Dex liked best about them, him and Nursey. They had such different pathsto the places they ended up, but for some reason, it was the easiest understandinghe’d ever found. He hoped Nursey felt the same way—thought, maybe, without toomuch hesitation, that it was, in fact, the same.)

         The commercials are filtering towards theend—they always showed commercials for other HGTV shows when the ads werestarting to end—but Ma is still in the middle of a rant about the latestbullshit Carolyn pulled before she up and quit, just as Nursey pads into theroom in socks—Dex’s socks—holding a pair of shoes.

         “I’m running to the store,” he says,hopping precariously as he shoves one shoe on his foot. “I want crepes in themorning and we’re almost out of eggs.”

         “What do you need crepes for?” Dexsays, frowning, worried, as Nursey almost decapitates their lamp.

         “I’m a bougie bitch, babe, deal withit.” Nursey throws in a wink mid-shoe-shove and nearly takes himself out on thecorner of their area rug. Dex winces preemptively.

         “Why are you wearing my socks?”

         “They’re softer,” Nursey says, and asDex opens his mouth to protest that they buy the same brand of socks and they’rewashed with the same detergent, Nursey adds, “and whenever I wear them, youget all riled up. Which you know I love.”

         Dex sighs. Unfortunately, he does knowhow much Nursey loves riling him up.

         Nursey just grins, finally succeeding ingetting shoes on both of his feet. Assured that Nursey will not brain himselfon the furniture for at least one more night, Dex turns back to the television,where the show is starting up again, and his laptop screen, where Ma has ceasedranting in favor of watching, having not paused once while Dex spoke withNursey, because as any small-town gossiper knows, stopping for any reason isonly admitting defeat.

         Mina and Karen, on the television, arenow dealing with some obviously contrived—or at the least exaggerated—issue withthe house and Ma, as usual, complains accordingly, and Dex is so absorbed infinding out of they’ll get the right sized windows for the house that he barelynotices Nursey is behind him until warm hands settle on his shoulders andNursey’s face bends close to steal a quick kiss.

         “Be right back,” Nursey murmurs, soft,sweet, lips pressed against the corner of Dex’s mouth. “Love you.”

         “Love you too,” Dex says, distracted, attentionheld by the show. Nursey huffs a short laugh, warm against Dex’s cheek, andthen both his mouth and his hands are gone, the front door closing quietlybehind him.

         Dex continues to watch and onlyrealizes that it’s abnormally silent after the window issue has been resolved.He glances down at the laptop screen to see Ma staring at him, a new, uncommonwide-eyed look on her pixelated face.

         Dex frowns. “What?” he asks.

         Ma’s eyelids flutter and she shakesher head, her parted lips closing into a small smile. “Nothing, honey, nothing,just.” Through the screen, Dex can make out her laugh lines deepening. “I’mjust happy for you, is all.”

         “For wh—oh.” Dex glances at the closedfront door quickly before looking back at the screen. Feeling slightly stupidbut mostly warm, he smiles. “Thanks, Ma,” he says, and they smile back at oneanother through the shitty Skype connection for a handful of moments more,before—on the TV—the beautiful Carrera countertops arrive and Ma crows with glee,remarking on the perfection of that particular choice.

         They watch on, Ma chirping houseflippers in an old yet loved family home in Maine, and Dex warm in the New YorkCity apartment he shares in every way with someone he loves more than he’d everthought he’d be able to love, and the both of them are—simply—happy.

#nurseydex #dexnursey #check please #dex #william poindexter #nursey #derek nurse #my writing #sort of fic #ficlet #kisses #we love kisses #i am #so tired #for no reason #but anyway #enjoy!! #i love this one :)) #also i have been watching letterkenny the past day and a half #and i feel like that reflects in this fic? #idk #enjoy regardless #or because of #idk your life

[aalt-ctrl-del]

seeing some of the videos with kids going through covid19 is fucking harsh

like yeah, kids have a good percentage of survival but lil toddlers have died from it. And saying “a high percentage of kids survive or have mild symptoms” is synonymous with:

“I think my child will survive and I don’t care what other people go through. Who cares if someone haves asthma, thats not my kid. They were going to die anyway so its better this way.”

pro-lifers are super “save the children” knights, until that infant is not attached to an umbilical cord.

republican: “Welp, the doctor just cut the umbilical! Better man up and get a job, yah lil freeloader.”

I’m getting the weirdest whiplash from these people and their rabid hypocritical mindset. “We’re right, and you’re wrong because we say so.”

these people have really never had pneumonia in their life. EVER. And it shows. There are two brands of pneumonia you can contract - given that pneumonia is predominantly a symptom to an infection or fungi pathogen. You can contract viral or bacterial. I’ve had the bacterial brand

AND IT SUCKED.

And pneumonia is very tame, if you’re healthy. Typically pneumonia only causes inflammation in certain areas of your lungs, causes fluid discharge, and makes it difficult for oxygen to latch onto the hemoglobin in the bloodstream, hence why you become out of breath and lethargic. When they say “you can’t breathe”. That’s literally what’s happening. You might be able to put air into those lung sacks, but your body cannot incorporate it into your bloodstream. It’s like a stroll on the top of Mount Everest, yeah there’s air, but there’s no OXYGEN 

You wanna know what covid 19 does? It’s pneumonia ON STEROIDS. THE WHOLE LUNG IS INFLAMMED.

And one of the most sinister aspects of inflammation of the lungs, regardless if you have traditional pneumonia or covid 19, is that you can go to sleep and not wake up. And I’m certain numerous people have done this under covid 19 - though it is not reported - it happens often with pneumonia too, if you’re not careful. You don’t feel the immediate threat of your condition, because you are suffocating. When you are suffocating, you don’t automatically think “I’m suffocating” - you just write it off as “very tired, very sleepy”. When you suffer pneumonia, your body is already run down and exhausted, you are already prone to sleeping because sick+sleep=recovery?????

so I made this long rant post about the deadly consequences of taking hydroxychloroquine. we can describe it in this equation

 feel bad + hydroxychloroquine  ° sleep = DEAD

someone with an erection for trump will think “i feel bad, and hydroxychloroquine  will magically cure me.” But like it states in my former post, hydro-quine doesn’t help you fight infection, it masks the symptoms. Hydroxychloroquine makes you feel better and would help you sleep, but that’s where you’ll die. Very much higher chance of you dying if you do what trump says. Its equivalent to taking lots of sedatives before going to sleep - you’re set yourself up for dying.

But you have to sleep when you have covid 19, like any other illness. The difference being, someone does need to keep tabs on you. Due to the dangers of slipping into dead. The hospitals have done this for covid 19 patients, and people on respirators - fluid needs to drain from the lungs. And likely, that can be where the long-term damage occurs. If there is fluid in the lungs and the body cannot assimilate it adequately, then it doesn’t go anywhere. Or, you’ll have scar tissue from the inflammation.

Seriously, who the fuck wants to do that? But I guess the trump supporters are hard core enough for that bullshit? tumpets are in fact the ones that dont want people with pre-existing conditions on the insurance plans. So, imagine trying to get insurance, while you suffer the ill-effects of your noble battle with covid-19?

But try explaining to these very stupid, uneducated barbells about the different aspects of pneumonia on steroids. The bodies immune system has never encountered this infectious naughti boi, and some people a higher resistance and natural bronchial protections, which aid in keeping covid-19 from latching onto.

The worst part yet is, what is happening with people testing positive again with covid 19? Once we encounter the virus and if we recover, does that mean we are asymptomatic carriers? And we continue to spread the virus? That’s the worst yet.

#unknowns #pneumonia #pneumonia on steroids #asymptomatic #carriers #coronavirus #corona virus #covid19 #covid 19 #trump #maga #stupid people

[phanchester]

gen z baudelaire children headcanons

violet baudelaire

- age: 16

- good at drawing

- cries in movies

- asexual af 

- called herself a lesbian for years until she started dating a boy lmao

- dating quigley quagmire

- doesnt define herself as a single sexuality so she just calls herself queer

- has an instagram account for aesthetic things and another account for weird selfies

- has a studyblr account as well 

- pretend shes organised but really is not

- loves dodie and tessa violet

- makes slimes and squishies and somehow all of them are perfect?? like the slime never sticks to anyone’s hands and get stretch a lot and the squishies just never break down

- is really bad at baking 

- tried to make klaus a birthday cake but failed and handed in slush

- she ended up buying cake from the local bakery but accidentally spelt klaus wrong so it read “happy birthday klauz”

- loves everything to do with japan but constantly denies the fact that shes a weeaboo

- dressed up as jiro from my hero academia one year

- obsessed with princess mononoke

- loves all the tech in tokyo

- listens to paramore religiously

- liked one direction when she was a lot younger and cringes about it

- used to have long hair but she cut it when she was 15 and now she has the bisexual haircut

- has a really good sense of fashion although she looks pretty in anything

- loves sherlock way too much for it to be healthy

- was obsessed with tom hiddleston in 2012

- got raped when she was 14

- still goes to therapy to repair all the broken things which came out of that

- very passionate about feminism and is pro-choice

- got called an sjw in public so she gave the man a whole rant about how her being raped ruined her entire life

- lead the tech box for the school musical in junior school despite these annoying teachers telling her she should be on stage with her pretty face

- gets cat-called in public which she absolutely hates but she just ignores them

- loves doing her own makeup

- people who dont know her call her the shy nerd but people who know her things shes insane

- resident IT kid at school

- knows for forever from dear evan hansen off by heart but refuses to listen to any more songs despite klaus’s protests

- really good at football and baseball

- super good at science

- loves everything to do with inventing (obviously lmao)

- dressed up as tinker bell when she was 4 and as annabeth chase when she was 12 for halloween

- good at sewing and making costumes

- made her own computer out of spare parts when her mother (beatrice) put screen time on her school laptop

- had an emo phase but constantly denies it

 klaus baudelaire

- age: 14

- a huge fanboy over practically everything except sports

- family thought he was gay for years, turns out he was a bi disaster

- peace-signs bisexual but also finger guns

- had a crush on isadora and quigley when they first met in seventh grade

-  now only has a crush on isadora and boy is oblivious to how lovestruck isadora is for him as well

- knows every starkid musical off by heart

- has a super popular tumblr blog with a hell lot of followers as well as an anti-onision side blog

- has probably every social media known to man

- rumours say that he even has a myspace account?? with this boy who knows

- hair is always messy no matter how many times beatrice tries to tame it

- always dresses up as harry potter for halloween because he looks exactly like the description

- obsessed with lord of the rings

- use to have a booktube but then deleted it a day after he posted a video 

- has mild anxiety and depression

- also sees a therapist (someone help these chirren they need help)

- memes and vines are his source of energy and without them he would probably die

- knows like every single vine somehow

- loves thomas sanders

- has a diverse set of subscriptions from really small but high quality youtubers to these huge popular ones

- once this random youtuber liked his reply on twitter and he actually flipped out

- has a crush on brendon urie (“i’d fuck that forehead any day” - actual quote by klaus baudelaire)

- skipped year 4 so he is one year younger than the people in his grade

- can eat until he dies

- was super small but then had a huge growth spurt so now hes a lot taller

- practically blind without his glasses

- once violet stole his glasses for a prank and klaus sat on the family cat

- the cat was thankful still breathing after the traumatizing experience but died the year after

- these events are not confirmed to be connected

- definitely a feminist and is super protective over his sister so he  a t t a c k s  anyone online who normalizes and tries to justify rape and/or pedophilia

- hated olaf from the second he met him

- super judgemental over people which he knows he needs to stop but he cant help it

- only person he didnt judge was lemony which beatrice took as a good sign when they first got together 

- hardly remember bertrand as he died when he was like 1 (and violet was 3) but from photos he knows that he was a good person

- loves croissants and meat pie

- actually really likes bread for some reason no one knows why but he just really likes bread

- good at every single subject except for pdhpe (or rather pe)

- running joke in the family that hes trash at sport

- actually likes the concepts of most school subjects but he hates some of his teachers (like his maths teacher and his geography teacher)

- has really trash handwriting

- has the weirdest search history known to man

- “im a writer” but never writes

sunny snicket 

- age: 4

- not at school yet but still super smart for her age

- klaus read the hobbit to her and she really enjoys it and wants to watch the movies (but beatrice wont let her because theyre rated m)

- lost her first tooth recently because she kept on wobbling it and just pulled it out

- never cries when she falls over or scratches herself or shit

- uses klaus as a chair and violet as a pillow

- once pulled all of beatrice’s flowers out from the garden to give to her

- beatrice got really mad at first but when sunny started crying and saying that she just wanted to give her mummy a present beatrice melted and brought sunny to the florist to buy flowers

- kept on asking how babies were made and didnt believe the stories she was being told so lemony just straight-up told her to shut her up and now she is traumatized

- watches movies which are way too old for her age

- loves baking with her mum and is very good at it (better than violet lmao)

- beatrice doesnt allow her near the oven so she constantly makes peanut-butter sandwiches

- suffice to say, the house is never out of peanut-butter sandwiches

- loves dogs

- has way too many toys to count

- wants a pet hamster, fish and/or sloth

- hates shoes so constantly walks around barefoot

- blames everything on her invisible snowman friend called ojo

- hates being called cute but really is adorable

- likes blueberry muffins and vanilla cupcakes

- never ties her shoelaces

- loves the incredibles

- really likes all frank sinatra songs

- has a pink radio which allows cds

- has lazy eye

- taking piano lessons but wants to learn the cello

- pretends to be a detective all the time

- tried to catch the monster under the bed so she could talk to it

- loves talking

- loves chinese food

- tries to write in cursive

- sings very loudly around the house

- always sneezes at least 5 times in a row

- scared of swallowing pills for medicine

- can quote child-friendly vines

- loves dressing up in dresses but hates makeup

- heard someone (probably kit) say “no shit sherlock” so says that on repeat under every circumstance

- finds writing capitals rs and 4s interesting so she has a notebook dedicated to that

- loves the mii and kahoot song (probably because of klaus)

- has an interest in sharp-toothed creatures like snakes, sharks and alligators

- pretends to have a british accent sometimes and its very cute

- hates her hair in pigtails

#asoue #a series of unfortunate events #violet baudelaire #klaus baudelaire #sunny baudelaire #quiglet #kladora #violet #klaus #sunny #asoue violet #asoue klaus #asoue sunny #beatrice baudelaire #lemony snicket

[hookedontaronfics]

First Contact series - Part 4

Title: First Contact - Part 4 Read the previous installments here: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 Rating: T Pairing: Taron x OC Warnings: Some mild cursing A/N: Taron proves his caring heart but was it all just a fever dream? The fourth installment in the First Contact series will leave you wanting more. If you love cute, fluffy Taron, you’ll love this installment. The series will eventually involve more mature themes as it develops, so be warned! I hope you enjoy! x

I woke up with a start into the darkness of my room, my breathing shallow as I tried to sort out where I was. For a moment I thought I’d had a bad dream, sweat plastering my hair to my forehead, but I had no lingering impression of a nightmare in my mind. Then a sharp pain in my stomach caused me to moan, and I closed my eyes against the sudden feeling that I was about to be sick. 

I stumbled out of my room into the hallway, crashing into the doorframe and cursing as I hurried to the toilet, bending over and heaving. Once I was done, I rolled over on the floor and laid there in the dark, not feeling much better after emptying the contents of my gut. Shit, I muttered to myself, trying to focus on just breathing for a moment, pressing my palms into my abdomen in an attempt to alleviate the pain.

It’d be just like me to get raging sick right before my next table read, I groaned. It’s just nerves, I tried to convince myself, as it had been a few days since the last read with Taron and the group thanks to scheduling conflicts.

A light snapped on in the hallway and I realized I hadn’t even considered my noise volume, but I couldn’t continue the thought as another wave of nausea moved through me. Jules knocked timidly on the door before easing it open, seeing me lying prone on the floor. I hadn’t even had the strength in me to flush the toilet, so I could only imagine what she was seeing. I would have been embarrassed if I didn’t feel so awful.

“Oh, honey,” she said, as I tried to shield my face from the onslaught from the overhead light.

“Everything hurts and I’m dying, Jules,” I moaned, curling up into the fetal position as my gut continued to spasm.

“You’re going to survive, I promise,” she said sympathetically, reaching over and yanking down the toilet handle.

“I completely regret all that sushi we had for dinner,” I sighed as Jules helped ease me to a sitting position, but I wasn’t willing to leave the bathroom just yet. “I can’t miss work,” I said, shivering despite the fact that my body was covered in sweat.

“Well you’re certainly in no shape to go right now,” she said, feeling my forehead with the back of her hand. “And you’re burning up too,” she added, opening the medicine cabinet and shaking out a couple painkillers from the bottle. “These should help,” she said, dropping them in my hand.

She poured me a cup of water, and the thought of trying to swallow anything down made me feel like getting sick all over again. I had to force myself to down the pills. “I want my mom,” I whined pathetically, my head lolling to the side a bit.

“Your mum is in America so all you’ve got right now is me,” Jules said gently.

“Well that’s just bloody great, innit?” I said sarcastically, and thankfully Jules didn’t take my rudeness personally.

“Should we try and get you back to your bed?” she asked, being sweeter than I’d known her to be. I must have looked like I was on death’s door.

“Mmmm I’m just gonna crash here,” I mumbled, pulling a towel down off the rack and making a pillow out of it, stuffing it under my head. The coolness of the hardwood floor was actually soothing to my overheated body.

“Suit yourself,” Jules replied. “I’ll wake you up in a few hours so you can call off your job,” she added.

“I’m not calling off,” I said stubbornly, but Jules just closed the door on me and left me to my misery. I drifted in and out of sleep, the pain never really subsiding, and ended up tossing the medicine anyway, getting sick several more times before I had nothing left to give. I was completely drained when Jules came to wake me up.

“Help me up,” I said weakly, holding my arms out to her with the intention to get ready for work. She pulled me to my feet and supported me to my room, dumping me back in my bed despite my protests.

“Give me your phone, I’m calling for you,” she replied, hands on her hips, and I must have been plumb out of my mind because I allowed her to do it. I had pulled all of my covers and extra blankets around myself, unable to get warm while she told my boss I was currently indisposed in the bathroom, whatever that meant.

“You just rest, okay?” Jules said after making my excuses for me, and I could only nod. My body had won this round, and I was thoroughly disappointed. I’d been looking forward to work, and after our date, I wondered how Taron and I would interact in person again. He’d kept up a steady stream of texts the past few days, falling asleep in the middle of our convos late into the night, which were usually about the most random and ridiculous things. I enjoyed the fact that Taron didn’t take himself too seriously, but sometimes wondered if we were more than just friends. Yes, he flirted with me, but he tended to flirt shamelessly with everyone. It was just his personality, and part of what drew me to him.

These thoughts drifted through my delirious mind before I crashed into a dreamless sleep, waking up nine hours later feeling sweaty, hungry and disoriented. I kicked off the covers, feeling like I was suffocating under all of them, and laid there for a few minutes testing myself, but the pain from earlier had seemed to subside. I gently poked at my stomach, and it growled back at me. “Well okay then,” I said to no one, disheartened by how much effort it took to get out of bed. I could hear the telly in the front room, figuring Jules and Mary were up and about. It would be about suppertime, so I wrapped my robe around myself, still clad in my jammies, and shuffled out to the main room.

“Hey guys,” I said, and three sets of eyes turned around to look at me at the sound of my voice. Wait, three? I stopped dead in my tracks and gasped when I saw Taron perched on our couch with my roomies as if this was just a normal, every-day occurrence.

“What in the Queen’s name are you doing here?” I asked, probably not one of my finer moments. I was suddenly very aware of my purple heart-patterned sleep pants and the fact that I wasn’t even wearing a bra, and I pulled my robe tightly around myself self-consciously. I had no makeup on and my hair was likely an utter mess.

“You weren’t at work today, and Jules texted me on your phone that you’d been really sick all night. I wanted to make sure you were okay,” Taron explained, not even remotely phased by my appearance. He looked incredibly casual, one of his favorite caps pulled low over his eyes. “And I brought you ice lollies,” he added brightly. “My mum always gave them to me as a kid when I was feeling ill.”

“I think you call them popsicles in America,” Jules supplied when I looked rightly confused.

“Would you like me to get you one?” Taron said, and I agreed because he looked really cute about it. I sank down into the couch, feeling vulnerable but there was nothing I could do about it now. Taron had already seen me like this, in all my sickly glory. I at least ran my fingers through my hair, trying to tame it down.

“Couldn’t have given a girl a warning?” I said cheekily to Mary and Jules before Taron came back, handing over the popsicle in a bowl for me so it didn’t make a mess. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked gently, sitting across from me on the ottoman, his knees touching against mine.

“Cautiously better,” I said, unable to not smile at him. That adorable face could make me feel better any day.

“How’d the table read go today?” I asked, as Mary tapped Jules on the shoulder and they both got up to give us some space. I gingerly picked up the popsicle and nibbled at it while Taron ranted a bit.

“Not as good as before, if I’m honest. They had one of your colleagues in and he was alright, I suppose, but he kept asking us for ways to make the script better. That’s not, as a rule, my job, you know? I deliver the lines and try my best to give them a life, but the actual language of it, that’s not my job.”

“No, it’s mine,” I agreed, deciding grape was not my favorite flavor of popsicle in the world, but the gesture had been kind and I wasn’t about to throw it back in Taron’s face. Still, my stomach had started to hurt again, and I tried to ignore it as he went on about the script session some more.

“And frankly, he just wasn’t you. Then again, I don’t know if anyone else could be you,” Taron concluded, smiling over at me before his face crumpled into worry. “Are you quite alright? You look a bit green,” he said, and I shook my head.

“Too soon,” I said, clutching my stomach and running for the bathroom again. After I didn’t resurface for a bit, Taron came looking for me. I was still hung over the toilet, though this time I’d managed to flush. I looked up at him and for some reason this made me start to cry, and then, feeling embarrassed, I ended up crying even harder because I was crying in front of him.

“Hey,” he said, kneeling down next to me and rubbing my back. “It’s okay,” he said, trying to soothe me.

“No it’s not,” I cried, having to let it all go. I felt like massive shit, first of all, but it was also difficult to handle that he was seeing me in that state. We hadn’t known each other long enough for me to feel like that was justified, to feel that I had earned my place in his concern.

“But it will be,” he said, not trying to correct me, just continuing to rub my back patiently while I cried it out. 

“I am so sorry,” I said, sniffling a bit and trying to get myself back under control.

“There’s no need. I’ve been sick before in my life, I know how it feels. We’re all human here,” he said, so kind about things it made my heart hurt too. “It’s alright to need someone to look after you,” he added. I took in a shaky breath and finally looked over at him, and he gently brushed the tears off my cheeks. I gave him a small smile and he helped me back to my feet. I managed to rinse my mouth out quickly, and we ambled back out to the couch, Taron suggesting I lie down and just rest and watch some telly.

He made sure I was comfortable, situating himself so I could rest my head in his lap. And let me tell you, he had incredibly comfortable thighs. I could still think it, even if I didn’t feel great. Tim wandered over and parked himself on Taron’s other leg, and he had to chuckle over that. “Guess I’m not leaving for a while,” he joked, petting Tim and baby-talking the cat in a cute manner. Everyone had their own “pet voice” - Taron was no exception.

“Tell me a story,” I smiled up at him, his eyes catching a glint from the table lamp. “About being on set. Anything…”

He idly ran his fingers through my hair as he recalled some funny moments with his co-stars, and I felt myself getting sleepy, lulled by his touch and the sweet drone of his voice. I could honestly listen to that accent for hours on end; he could have read the dictionary for all I cared. The corners of my mouth would turn up in a smile when he’d get to a funny bit in his story, and I rather enjoyed when he’d laugh at his own jokes. It was endearing in a way I wouldn’t have had the privilege to know before.

He must have noticed that I was growing tired and suggested I’d get better sleep if I were in my bed, so before I totally drifted off I let him steer me to my room, unable to worry about what it must have looked like. He seemed to only be focused on me, taking the time to actually tuck me in my covers, smoothing them out over my body. 

I was having trouble keeping my eyes open at that point as he leaned over and ever-so-gently brushed his lips against my forehead, placing the sweetest kiss on my skin. I’d wonder later if that had actually happened or been just part of my delirium. “You’re not warm,” he whispered, his voice sounding slightly unsteady, but I was already half-asleep so I couldn’t ponder that further. “I do believe you’ll feel better in the morning,” he smiled, giving my hand a slight squeeze.

“You too, babe,” I mumbled, the words just tumbling out as I was sliding head-long into sleep, totally unaware of the expression on his face, the one that said his feelings ran much deeper than just friendship. 

I assume he took his leave from Jules and Mary, but I was long gone into dreamland at that point. When I awoke later I’d have to wonder how much of what had happened was just a fever dream. How many more encounters was it going to take before we’d finally give in to our feelings?

Interested in what happens next? Read Part 5 here!

#taron imagine #taron egerton #taron x reader #taron egerton imagine #taron egerton fanfiction

[sunflowerspectre]

Stranded | Dungeons and Dragons Commission Piece

This is a 5k commission piece for an anon with their DND characters.

Title: Stranded Fandom: Dungeons and Dragons (DND) Summary: Neronvain never expected anyone to find him after he left his family, but here he is. On a stranded island after getting 'caught' twice by the same dragon slayer who is determined to do her job and get him back home to face his punishment only for their ship to get completely destroyed. Character(s): Neronvain, Algatharas, Original Tiefling Character (Desire) Rating: Teen  Warning:  Suggested depression/mention of wounds and tending to said wounds

Requested Word Count: 5k

Final Word Count: 5,856 

Read it on Archive of Our Own

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Stranded | Word Count: 5,856

Neronvain likes to think of himself as a strategist, a genius on his best days. He has seen the results of the impulsiveness of his brother, the folly of immaturity. He has prided himself on being smart - clever. Plotting out each of his actions, each possible route that he may take and thinking of all the different outcomes that can happen. He always thinks of everything.

It has saved his life as many times as it has almost doomed and condemned him, but he likes to think that the pros out way the cons.  But there are certain things that, try as he might, he cannot plan for… Things like Chuth still living, the cult of the dragon queen still keeping him ensnared… Desire.

That blasted woman is part of the reason that he has to deal with this in the first place. If she were smarter - meaner, without mercy - than she would have killed him instead of taking him back, just as the rest of so-called heroes had wanted to do. He would have welcomed it - he could have accepted it with grace, knowing that he deserved it, that this was the only way that everything could be put to a stop.

But her mercy has saved his life - she saved his life - just as much as it has ruined it. He is amazed that someone as reluctant to unnecessary kills as her has even managed to get this far. He knows that he couldn’t take her in a fight - he couldn’t otherwise he would never have even been on the mercy end of her sword in the first place - but still, just how strong is she that she’s lived this long? How skilled is that - that idiot? How did that buffoon manage to do this to him?

That damn woman had taken him back to the kingdom that despises him. His life has become a secret scandal - the black sheep of the family being shoved into a dark closet hoping that no one will look too closely to see it there. His family wanted him brought back alive, so he says let them deal with it. If they wanted him alive so badly, then they can face the backlash of the council. They can handle the drama of his ‘rebellion.’ 

He was fully prepared to accept the ‘punishment’ of being in his room for all eternity. It was a childish move on his father’s part. Grounding him to a room like an unruly toddler. It is more of a punch to his pride than a real punishment, but he will gladly accept the tameness of it instead of the snares of some rotting cell. After all, the glories of such a mild punishment is that he knows he wouldn’t be there long.

He had already planned it all out. All it would take is a few whispers sent through the wind here. A few rumors there. Well planted and watered seeds. Someone would find out what happened. Someone would ignite the fire that would unleash the flames that would set him free. 

Unlike him, his father never fully thought out his actions. Not the way he does. They fail to see that them hiding this all from the public lets him spin the public to his side. A chance to weave whatever story he wants the public to hear before his father can. Anything that his father would say after the fact would only condemn themselves. The public wouldn’t trust them, but he had the chance to make the public trust him. It would be perfect. 

But that blasted woman. This is all Desire’s fault. She is the reason that all of his plans are crumbled. If she had killed him when she laid eyes on him, then none of this would be happening in the first place. If she at least killed Chuth, like the ‘dragon slayer’ she’s supposed to be, then he would be free from the cult. Then the cult wouldn’t have even broken him out and he wouldn’t be stuck in an even worse predicament.

After all, what is he supposed to say to a dragon that thinks he’s on its side? No?

__________________________________

“We’ll bring him back,  Alagarthas,” Desire tries to keep her voice even - political - but her stomach turns. Hesitantly, she continues more firmly.  “I’ll bring him back.”

 Alagarthas paces frantically, looking more disheveled than she’s seen him. She eyes the destruction behind him, the remains of Neronvain’s room - his ‘jail cell.’ The ruckus wasn’t exactly quiet, far from discrete, but it is just minor enough for them to spin a story to tell the public to keep this all on the down low, secret. She hates all of this political nonsense - this drama. 

Her eyes glance over  Alagarthas. But it’s not so bad. He finally meets her gaze, his eyes glistening with worry. It makes her chest constrict - the idea that Neronvain is out there, doing whatever the hell all of this is, while he has family here that cares about him, worries about him. 

 Alagarthas gives her a ghost of a smile and takes her hands in his. The gesture takes her off guard - a deep flush spreading on her cheeks as she glances away from him, trying not to focus too much on the tingling sensation in her palms.

“I know that you will.” There is a full sincerity in his voice and she takes his hope in her to heart. “You’ll bring my brother back here, I’m sure of it, and I cannot thank you enough for it.”

“I - uh -” Desire sputters, she can feel her face getting warm, “-Don’t mention it.” 

Alagarthas gives her an understanding nod and just as fast as he came to her, he’s gone, giving her his goodbyes over a fleeting shoulder as he mentions talking to his father about raising her payment for this. She mumbles under her breath, kicking the rubble under her feet, before she makes the decision to head out and get this over with.

__________________________________

The sooner she can get Neronvain and bring him back, the sooner she can put this all behind her.

Neronvain is not sure if he can think his way out of this one, if he’s honest with himself. The exhaustion may be playing a part in it, but every time he tries to think of a possible plan, he is coming up blank - nothing, nada, not one tiny possible escape. Honestly, if Desire had killed him, that would be the best possible escape from all this nonsense, but he doubts that she will be strolling around again anytime soon. He’d be lucky if his family sends anyone after him again at all. 

And he never has been a fan of relying on other people to get him out of his mess either, which means he really is on his own this time. Each possible idea that he has, he can think of a million ways why it won’t work, why it would just get him killed, and if he is going to do this by himself, then he will be sure that he will get out alive. Just to spite them. With each failure, he begins to think that maybe he is not meant to get out of this after all. Maybe this is his fate and it’s time that he accepts that his hands will always be covered in blood.

“Heads up, you fucker!”

That sounds oddly familiar - why does it sound familiar? It certainly doesn’t sound like one of the members, the cult hardly speaks to each other as it is, so he has high doubts that any of them would be shouting at the top of their lungs especially with Chuth being so close by. 

As he glances outside, just to see what the ruckus is, he realizes with horror just why the voice sounds so familiar.

Desire.

Oh. Oh she is most definitely going to kill him this time around.

__________________________________________

“Why didn’t you just kill me?”

Desire can feel her headache forming as she glances toward her prisoner. Neronvain scowls at her as he awkwardly shuffles forward on the desk of the ship that she’s acquired. His hands are bound, expertly she may add. It is only because no one wanted to carry him that his feet aren’t bound tightly and are just loose enough for a few steps. She looks him over carefully this time - after going through all of this trouble, twice, she can’t see why this guy is so worked up.

He doesn’t look like a cult member or the type that would be interested in it. She’s seen that type - his other cult members fit the bill perfectly, with that deranged look in their eye. Usually quiet unless you catch them on some world-ending rant, when they start spewing some nonsense about ‘cleansing the world’ or ‘being reborn as so and so if they do this’. Neronvain, however, looks kept together. Sane. Clean pressed and almost elegant. 

She supposes that technically he is a prince so he shouldn’t look like the normal type of cult member, but still.

“Your family wants you alive,” Desire states simply, “...Your brother is worried about you too, you know?”

Neronvain looks away from her, almost in a huff. He doesn’t comment about his brother, instead shifting focus as he eyes the skies. He doesn’t like the darkening clouds in the distance, the thickness in the air. He can hear roaring in the distance. Something in his eyes shift, resembling almost fear - frustration. He tries to shuffle to turn toward her, but only manages it with little success. 

“What type of dragon slayer are you if you can’t manage to kill Chuth,” Neronvain spits out.

“You know, technically, my job is to get you,” Desire points out, “I’ll get Chuth eventually, but I gotta get you home first.”

“I wish you the best of luck,” Neronvain’s voice drips with sarcastic wit, “Considering we are heading right toward a storm.”

“We are not -”

Desire stops. The roaring in the distance is drowned out by the growing rumble of the thunder. The dark clouds on the horizon are starting to look much bigger. 

“Okay so maybe we are heading toward a storm,” Desire admits, “But at the storm will keep Chuth off our tails. Just - don’t do anything.”

Neronvain huffs, shrugging his shoulders to raise the shackles on his wrist as if to say what do you expect me to do? Desire winces, but doesn’t comment as she dashes off to prepare for the storm.

____________________________________________

No amount of preparing could have saved them - or their ship. The rolling waves only grow stronger and taller until their ship is encased in so much water that it threatens to break apart as the waves crash against them. Harsh sea water soaks them all as they struggle to salvage what they can, as if there is anything that they can do to keep their ship from falling apart into shambles.

Neronvain struggles to get back up on his feet each time a wave or the rocking of the ship knocks him to his knees. He spits up water and can taste the dirty salt on his tongue as his knees take a hard hit against the deck. He glances up with throbbing lungs to see Desire. She’s knelt down, looking panicked but still more kept together than the rest of the crew. 

“Do you know how to swim,” Desire asks desperately, and when Neronvain doesn’t answer, she repeats herself more frantically, “Do you know how to swim?”

“Yes,” Neronvain finally speaks up.

She looks relieved as she starts to undo the bindings on his hands. He watches her with confusion, the rest of the chaos blurring around them, his brows furrowing. She even hands him - him, the prisoner - the knife to do the ones on his feet. 

He makes frantic work of it, trying to recover from each wave that hits him fast enough that he will be free before the next one overcomes him. He glances up, almost prepared to return her knife, but she has already shuffled to somewhere else. He tucks the knife into his pocket. 

_______________________________________

Desire wakes up spitting sea water, surprised that she is waking up at all. She doesn’t bother moving, not at first. Taking a moment to take in the clear skies above her and the warmth that is beating down on her face; it makes it tempting to just close her eyes again, go back to sleep. Figure it out later.

She can feel sand underneath her hands, some of it getting under her still semi-soaked clothes. She coughs, turning to spit up a bit more water, and decides it is best to figure out where she is now then work from there. She sits up and slowly stands, stretching out her muscles as much as she can. 

The good news is that she did wash up on an island - not some sandy patch of land that’s only exposed during the low tides. An island can be good - means more resources, more land to explore and less likely that the rising tides will be a threat. 

The downside is that she doesn’t spot anyone else on the island - not yet at least, but if it was a well populated island then someone would have already spotted her. She starts to walk around the shore. She’s not sure how deep the trees go and she can’t risk getting lost. But walking around the shore, she can get an idea how big the island is and it is more likely that she will come across someone. 

She doesn’t even see smoke from any chimneys or fires or hear anything other than some sparse birds and insects. It’s all just trees and sand. Her hopes of finding someone start to dash as she gets the sinking feeling that the island isn’t as big as she first thought it was. 

She almost gives up the idea all together when she spots a figure in the sand in the distance and makes a fast beeline for them. The closer that she gets to them, the more familiar that they look. Despite wondering just what she did to deserve being stranded with her apparent ‘prisoner’, she still rushes to them to check to see if he is still alive. 

His eyes are closed and he looks in bad shape with bruises and cuts along his body. Unlike when she washed up, he is closer to the tides and she is sure that constantly being soaked isn’t helping his condition. She checks his pulse first - it’s faint, but still there. 

Mumbling curses under her breath and with the memory of  Alagarthas asking her to bring his brother back alive, Desire checks Neronvain over for any external head injuries or major wounds before she puts her hands under his arms and drags him away from the incoming tides. 

Alright one thing at a time, Desire thinks sourly as she tries to focus on what should be done first. She thinks that she will save drying him for last since eventually she’d have to make a fire and shelter. Hesitantly, she lays her ear against his chest and hears the rumbling, struggling breaths in his lungs. She eyes his still-unconscious form, the blue-ish tint to his lips don’t look good. 

Cursing, she does her best to pound his chest the best that she can without injuring him further. She takes a small break in between each beat to check on him. She prays that this works - she really doesn’t want to do mouth to mouth if she doesn’t have to. To her relief, he spits up the water and starts to take deeper breaths.

His eyes flutter open and look at her curiously before they flutter close again. She sighs with the realization that getting him better so she can fulfill her promise to  Alagarthas, will be harder than expected.

_______________________________________________

She starts each morning with the same routine - getting water from the creek, boiling it and splitting it between the two of them. She makes cups out of the coconuts that she finds - mixing their milk with the water in hopes that it will perk him up. She gets him to drink his first. It’s always slow, always barely enough, but it is enough. Then she drinks his water. She repeats the process with breakfast with whatever fish she can find - sometimes it’s a bird, but they’re faster than she gives them credit for. 

She’s hesitant when it comes to his wounds - at least at first. The knife that she has is dull and smaller than the one she usually has on her - the one that she used to cut his ropes was one of her better knives. But the small slightly rusted blade does its job at cutting away some of the fabric of his clothes to reveal his wounds. 

She uses the spells she knows. It helps to a degree, it at least stops the bleeding and keeps it from getting infected. She has to apply some of the spells daily on the deeper, darker gashes. But the makeshift bandages that she makes from the torn pieces of her own clothing, the pieces she cut off of him, and an odd combination of dried seaweed and leaves. 

There are a few times where he comes to - with fluttering eyes and mumbling elvish that is too soft for her to catch even if she did speak the language. Sometimes he acknowledges her presence. Most of the time he doesn’t. But he’s never conscious enough for her to talk to him and never long enough to ease her worries about him surviving. Healing him takes time - more time than Desire thought it should, to the point where a part of her wonders if she needs to start preparing for the worst case scenario. 

But as long as he is still breathing when she gets up in the morning, then she’ll keep trying. As long as there is a chance for him to survive, she’ll continue and refuse to give up.

_____________________________________

Neronvain has to admit, venomously, that Desire did a decent job at tending to his wounds - just as the shelter and food that she’s tending to is passable. Or at the very least the food is edible and the shelter keeps the rain off of them. 

He eyes the start of the rain just outside of their makeshift shelter and looks up. At least there are no leaks. His stomach rumbles and he huffs in annoyance and shifts, every bone in his body protesting the movement. 

“Why did you free me,” Neronvain’s voice speaks up as he eyes Desire nonchalantly, making no effort to help her maintain the struggling fire. 

There is no curiosity in his voice, nor sincerity. Instead, his voice is laced with mild annoyance and irritation. Frustration that he is still alive.

It’s not the first time that he wished that she would have finished the job off when they first met. But by now, she’s had multiple chances to simply finish him off. Feed him to the sharks for all he cared. To get rid of him. But each time, she has gone out of her way to keep him alive.

It’s annoying.

Desire’s brow twitches, her patience thinning at the constant nag from Neronvain. She expected him to be grateful that she saved his life, but she supposes that’s asking too much of the rebellious cultish prince.

“Considering that you’re no help, I wonder the same thing,” Desire spits out between grinded teeth before letting out a cheer as the fire starts to roar. “But I don’t make a habit of killing people that I already promised to bring back alive.”

She pauses and then adds, “-or you know, killing people in general. It seemed right to at least give you a chance.”

Neronvain scoffs, “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard. Bringing me back alive doesn’t benefit you - my family would pay you for even trying in the first place and it doesn’t take a lot to make some lie about my death.”

“I don’t make a habit of doing things just because they benefit me,” Desire spits, “It’s always a plus if it does, but I’m not going to just sit back and watch someone die when I can help - just like I don’t go back on my promises. I said I would bring you back alive, so that’s what I’m going to do.”

“You really think that you’re so much better than everyone else because you keep your word? Because you don’t bloody your hands?”

Neronvain’s words are laced with venom and anger that Desire has a hard time not matching as her shoulders tense, her voice rising to match his.

“Of course fucking not!” Her voice strains, “But when your morals are all you have, you tend to hang onto them, not that I expect you to know much about that considering I’ve had to drag your ass out of a cult twice! I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to make it a third time.”

A part of her hopes that that would be the end of the conversation as she works on rotating the meat that she obtained. The minor pause of silence that follows makes her breath a sigh of relief until Neronvain speaks up again. 

She is ready to bite back against whatever criticism he has to say, but stops short as he speaks.

“I wish you would have killed me,” Neronvain spits out venomously, his lips curling in a snarl, “It would have been easier on everyone involved.”

Neronvain doesn’t even look at her, just absently leaning back with his eyes closed. The anger that’s been boiling in her veins simmers as she swallows thickly.

“Don’t get your fucking hopes up. If I killed you when I had the chance then I wouldn’t have the pleasure of your company on a stranded island. Instead, I would have resorted to talking to a coconut.”

He goes quiet, the tension slowly starting to thin out in the air. He sits up without a word. She almost smiles, believing him to help her until he simply plucks a piece of the cooked meat off the bone and then sits back with his haul.

Dick.

_____________________________

Desire doesn’t question the odd barrel of liquor that she finds on the shore, nor the chances of it washing on the same abandoned island that they’re on. Instead, she is quick to check it over and after confirming that it is not water-logged and still tastes fine, she starts to make quick work of it. 

Neronvain has a bit of it, reluctantly and more out of boredom than anything. There is only so much boiled river water one can drink before getting tired of it. He doesn’t complain when Desire drinks more than her fair share, not particularly caring if she emptied the entire barrel herself. It’s almost amusing to see her stumble around, making a fool of herself. 

But his few drinks slowly start to add up and while he’s considerably behind Desire in amount consumed, he can feel the numbing, foggy effects of the alcohol starting to take hold.

“I have to ask,” Desire finally addresses him, her breath reeking of the liquor. She is uncomfortable close and Neronvain gently pushes her away with the tip of his finger with disdain. She looks down at his finger with confusion and bats it away, not taking the message. 

Irritated, Neronvain settles on huffing and giving up on trying to push her away. 

“You don’t look like a cult member,” Desire confesses, “All the other guys, sure. They ha- had that whole crazy look in their - their eyes. Wouldn’t stop screaming about the dragon and all that shit. But you - you seem - normal? Put together?”

“Not a crazy cult leader,” Neronvain offers and she nods frantically.

“Yeah! How the fuck did a prince like you end up so high up in a dragon cult?”

Neronvain takes a large gulp of the coconut shell that they've been using as their makeshift mugs. He mulls it over a minute. When he blinks, he can see himself arguing with his dad over the betterment of their kingdom, arguing for change, arguing to fix the broken system. He can still hear his father’s voice echoing in his eyes, stripping him of his title. Handing it over to  Alagarthas on a silver platter.

Documents. Plans. Blueprints. All gone to waste. Everything he had dedicated his life to - granted, he was still young at the time but still, that was his life’s dream - all for nothing. 

“My father abandoned me first,” Neronvain reasons, “So I abandoned him. I tried to change the kingdom so he named  Alagarthas the crown heir.”

Desire sputters, musing over his response and twitching her nose. She is all too familiar with politicians - old kings and dukes refusing to fix anything, refusing to change because if the system benefits them then what is so broken about it? Kings turning a blind eye to their people. She imagines that Neronvain wasn’t the favorite among any of them, even before all of this happened.

She thinks of  Alagarthas. Kind eyes. Nice smile. Soft hands. She imagines that he would be a good king - he seems to really listen, really care about his kingdom. The people certainly like him. The redness on her cheeks deepen, but she blames it on the drink. 

“For like what 100 - 200 years?” Desire presses, “ Alagarthas thought you were dead.”

“I may as well have been,” Neronvain sighs deeply, “The truth is, they were the first ones to listen to me - encouraged my ambition, no matter how misguided it may have been.”

Desire nods and to Neronvain’s relief, stops pressing and asking questions, leaning back away from him with a thoughtful look on her face.

“I understand.”

Her simple declaration takes him by surprise, but he masks it with a suspicious glare. Desire isn’t quite looking at him though, just staring into the coconut shell as she idly stirs the liquor it holds.

“We all make mistakes, get caught up in the wrong crowd sometimes,” Desire admits, “That doesn’t completely excuse what we did, but it definitely makes sense. I mean, if I’m - I’m not doing okay, then some guy says hey if you join this cult and worship this dragon then we’ll take care of you, I think I would have said yes too.”

She stops there, humming slightly as a melancholic understanding passes between them. She looks to him briefly and raises her coconut at him. He gives a curt nod and raises his shell to hers before they finish off the barrel.

____________________________________

Desire is the first one to spot the ship on the horizon. The setting sun basking its silhouette, distorting it like a heat-induced mirage, only made it harder to believe. It didn’t stop Desire from trying - standing ankle-deep in the tides of the shore with waving arms, shouting at the top of her lungs as if the gods themselves were going to come get her. 

Eventually Neronvain realizes that the distortion caused by the sun and distance is just a trick of the eye. That really is a ship that is starting to turn, toward them, sails fanning out in the wind. Desire’s shouting only gets louder, more frantic and hopeful. He looks on in disbelief, a sense of almost relief in his chest that turns to dread when he sees the colors of a familiar flag.

He sits back with a numbing sensation spreading throughout his body, his hands starting to tingle. His mouth starts to go dry as the realization that what is Desire’s saving grace is going to be his doom. The fact that his father really sent other ships out just on the off chance of getting him back home tells him all he needs to know about what they plan to do with him when he arrives.

The sand starts to feel comforting between his fingers - the grainy sensation reminding him that he is here. That this is real. That this is happening. He wasn’t sure what his punishment would be, but the chilling knowledge of what is going to be waiting for him now - an angry father eager to get him back to send a message - it makes him almost not want to leave the island at all. 

But he stands up, on slightly shaking feet. Desire offers to help him, but he stops her before the words out of her mouth. His eyes are dead on the ship as he rolls his shoulders and lifts his chin. For all his talk, he never really thought that this would happen. He never really grasped the belief that the kingdom would be finished with him when he got back - a very small part of him thought that for as much as they all hated him, that there was always a small chance for him to do better. He doesn’t want to die - and especially not by the order of his father. 

But he can’t deny it now. He feels it in his bones. He can feel the glistening in the corner of his eyes. He’s not sure if Desire mistakes it for the relief of being rescued or if she simply does not notice it, but either way, she doesn’t say anything as the ship starts to get as big as the idea of going back home.

______________________________

Desire is thankful that they’ve been rescued, really, she had fully expected to just survive on the island until she simply couldn’t any longer. She didn’t expect any ships to see them, but she supposes if she were as eager as the king to get Neronvain back and had the money to send out as many ships as it took just to get an answer, then she isn’t going to complain.

But the compliments - first from the ship’s crew, then as they find themselves back in the kingdom, she gets it from the maids, the servants, the politicians - the king. Thank you for keeping Neronvain in check until we arrived. I can’t imagine being stranded on the island for two months with that monster. You’re a hero for bringing him back to us, I imagine that it must not have been easy.

It makes her uncomfortable. Sick. It doesn’t feel right when she receives her payment from the king. It most definitely doesn’t feel right when Neronvain is taken away in chains and shackles that weigh more than he does. She glances toward  Alagarthas who looks close to biting his own nails out of anxiety. He meets her eyes and shares the same worried gleam in his eyes. He almost looks surprised to see it in hers too.

Desire sticks around, overstaying her welcome to a point, but when she simply claims that she still feels seasick, most people leave her alone. They give her a small, cramped, room to stay in until she gets better - claiming that it’s the least that they can do until she gets better after all the trouble she went through. She accepts it with grinding teeth and a locked jaw.

When she sticks to the shadows to overhear their plans - what punishment that they have decided - she expects to get relief that she did the right thing, but when the word execution is spoken, she feels fire under her skin. She has to bite her tongue, dig her nails into her palms, to keep herself from speaking out.

She doesn’t think that anyone is on to her until  Alagarthas pulls her into an empty closet. The close quarters makes her heart skip a beat and her cheeks flush as  Alagarthas puts a finger to her lips as a signal to stay quiet. 

 Alagarthas listens closely through the door before he takes a deep breath and removes his finger from her lips, seemingly oblivious to the way that she licks her bottom lip afterward.

“We have to save him,”  Alagarthas whispers, his voice frantic and desperate, “They want to kill him. They want to kill my brother.”

A cold chill runs down her spine, a single icicle hitting her right in the heart. She never really thought about what may happen to Neronvain after she brought him back, but she had figured that it wouldn’t be too harsh considering their first punishment was just locking him in his room. She thought that the king would have mercy for the firstborn.

She can see the way the colors of  Alagarthas’ eyes swirl together and she tries not to lose herself in them. 

“How do we save him,” Desire asks, meeting his gaze evenly as the butterflies in her stomach settle. 

“I have a plan - I think if we both vouch for him, if we make them see that he still has some good left, that they may consider rehabilitation. I don’t think they’re willing to put him in a cell after seeing him break out the first time.”

“You were stranded with him,”  Alagarthas looks at her pleadingly, “You didn’t know him very well, but you were stuck with him for two months. As an outsider who was stranded with him, your word on it has weight to it! I’m sure of it.”

Desire doesn’t think about it - not too long nor hard. She sees the desperation in his eyes, the pleading in his tone.  Alagarthas is grasping for something - anything - that he thinks may save his brother’s life.

“I’ll do it.”

___________________________

Desire is tight-lipped and uncomfortable as she takes her leave, her things gathered on her donkey. At least the castle stable has kept Carrot in good condition while she was away, she was sure that they would have auctioned him off by now. She gives a few pats to the mule’s head, but still hasn’t spoken a word.

What can she say? She didn’t expect  Alagarthas’ plan to work, at least to a degree. The council had more or less decided that if she was so eager to save the life of Neronvain, then that makes him her problem. All while under the disguise of ‘rehabilitation.’ There are conditions of course, but ultimately, they thought that if anyone can handle Neronvain then who better suited than the dragon slayer? The same one who had been keeping him in check for two months on an island without ‘dying by his hands?’ The same who brought him back twice. Alive and mostly unscathed. 

She isn’t sure if she can explain this one to the rest of her party - to her friends - when she finds them. 

She glances toward Neronvain. He refuses to look at her, looking more frustrated about this than she does. She imagines that considering he wasn’t thrilled about her saving his life the past two times now - that he is even less thrilled about being rescued a third time. 

“Well,” Desire finally speaks up, popping her mouth. She gives a cheeky, oops sorry smile to Neronvain. “I guess you’re stuck with me now.”

#dungeons and dragons #dnd #forgotten realms #cult of the dragon #neronvain #algatharas #original tiefling character #fanfiction #fanfic #commission #myworks #mycommissinos

[5hfanfiction]

You Feel Like Magic To Me (1/2)

A/N: Hi guys! I’m back with a super duper long ass fic that i hope you guys will like :) It’s based off your typical ‘friends to lovers’ AU and the trigger warning is very mild as there are mentions of coming to terms with sexuality and coming out in general. I hope y'all stick around and read chapter 2 as well! :) Enjoy!

      Lauren Jauregui was only six years old when she saw Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone in the theaters.

      It was her first time watching a movie on the big screen and it was safe to say, she was enamored. Not only by the huge pictures in front of her eyes, but also because Harry was a wizard. The thought that someone could have magical powers and that a whole different world existed amongst humans was amazing to Lauren. She watched the entire movie with a new-found interest in magic and the imaginary school; excitedly telling her mom with a huge smile on her face and pigtails whipping pass her face, that “One day, I will be attending Hogwarts,”. She spent weeks talking with wide eyes about wands, moving pictures and broomsticks that her mother, Clara, knew exactly what to drees her up as for Halloween.

        Lauren’s squeal could be heard by her neighbors when her green-eyes set on the Gryffindor robe presented to her by her mom. She had taken the liberty to rent it from a Halloween store near her house. Her tiny feet clad in socks covered in cartoon lightning bolts could not contain their excitement as they jumped up and down. Her father, Mike Jauregui, looked up from the daily newspaper he was reading, glasses perched up on his nose, with a small smile at his child’s antics. Lauren hugged her mother mercilessly mumbling small high-pitched thank yous into her body.

           When the day to ‘trick or treat’ rolled about, Lauren was ready in her rented robe, circular glasses, a thin lightning scar on her forehead (drawn by herself with her mother’s lipstick) and a “potions pot” to collect candy, she was ready to hit the streets and get some sweets. She pretty much led the way with her mother trailing close behind to each of her neighbor’s houses, knocking on the door with heaps of other children dressed in their typical Halloween costumes; ghosts, Dracula, robots, zombies and the attire of random occupations. Lauren felt special in her robe that was threaded with yellow and red until she visited Mr. Howard’s house.

             As it was already getting a bit late, there weren’t many children left. With a five-minute warning from her mother who was trailing behind her cautiously, she promised that this would be the last house. As she walked up to the house patio, she caught sight of another Gryffindor robe in front of her; worn by a girl who was most probably her age as well. Her brown hair was in a ponytail and her chocolate orbs was curious as to who was approaching and locked eyes with her. Lauren noticed that she had a broomstick with her and she felt stupid for not thinking about it. However, she was more excited to meet the girl who was also a Harry Potter fan. Walking closer to her and eyeing her outfit, Lauren smiled at the other girl; watching the other girl shyly smile at her back. She put out her hand, and said:

             “Hi, I’m Lauren. What’s your name?”

      The other girl looked startled at the polite gesture. She smiled, taking a while to understand her, and said “Camila Cabello”.

       Her Spanish accent was strong, and Lauren was flabbergasted when the girl continued to talk to her, gesturing to her robe, in Spanish. Unfortunately, Lauren had very little knowledge in Spanish and could only nod. Camila must have realized that she couldn’t understand her, and her cheeks grew red. She looked helplessly to her mother, Sinu, who was also conversing with Lauren’s mother. “It’s okay,” Lauren assured her, causing her to look back at her, not sure if she could understand her, “I’m just happy someone else knows Harry Potter,” she declared with a small chuckle. After that, Mr. Howard finally came out to give them the candy they came for and they shyly waved to each other as they parted ways.

         “Ma are they new here?” Lauren curiously asked her mom, as they walked back to their house hand-in-hand, her “pot” full of candy. Her mom looked at her with a smile.

          “Yes, baby. They just moved her from Cuba a few weeks ago, it’s nice to have other Cuban people in this neighborhood,” Clara admitted, ruffling Lauren’s hair that was wild around her shoulders. “Apparently, the girl you saw today will be joining you in 2nd Grade next year. She’s taking English classes now so that it’ll be easier for her to follow the subjects here,” her mom clarified for her. Lauren nodded and thought about the girl in the robe. She wouldn’t mind being friends with her. Especially if she was nice, and she seemed like it.

—

         A year passed, and Lauren was slowly riffling through the pages of the first Harry Potter book with her short chubby fingers that was in her hands as she sat in her 2nd Grade class waiting for the teacher to walk in. Her brows furrowed as she sat in class, trying to understand the difficult words in front of her. She made it her challenge to finish that book in a month. So, anytime she had free time, she would read the book. Her attention was snatched away when she heard someone calling her name, in a shy voice.

                “Lauren?”

        She looked up to find familiar brown eyes looking back at her and she smiled as recognition settled in. She got up from her chair and nodded, suddenly feeling shy in front of the Cuban girl; not knowing if she was better with English now. As if she was reading her mind, Camila’s eyes widened.

          “Uh, I’m actually okay with English now,” she informed her, looking down at her shoes; her voice high-pitched and squeaky, then her eyes darted up to meet Lauren’s eyes, “I’m quite the fast learner, I mean, I still have more to learn and all but I-,” Camila rambled until Lauren cut her off with a hand on her shoulder and a smile on her face.

         “Hey, that’s completely fine, Camila. You can hang out with me. I’ll show you around if you want,” the green-eyed girl politely offered her as Camila smiled at her and sat down next to her. After a few seconds, the teacher walked in, effectively cutting out any further communication between the two girls and Lauren shot her a sympathetic smile and silently gestured ‘later’ with her fingers to the Cuban girl.

         Once class ended and it was time for their 30-minute recess, Lauren led Camila to the bench behind the school overlooking the worn-down playground in the yard; lunchboxes clutched in their hands as they sat next to each other on a bench. Coincidentally, the presence of PB&J’s could be seen in both of their lunchboxes and they exchanged a knowing look with each other; then quickly blabbering about how it’s their favorite food in the world. Unable to contain her curiosity, Lauren launched herself into a series of questions that ranged from “So, you’re from Cuba?” to “Do you like Frosted Flakes?”.    

         The two girls clicked immediately, bonding instantly over their shared heritage (“I’m Cuban too!). Camila entertained Lauren with stories on how she picked up learning English by watching TV Shows as well as through the classes she attended which helped her tremendously. She learned that Camila’s dad was still in Cuba and that he would find a way to come to America once he found a way to. Lauren noticed the mild sad look that flashed across Camila’s face even though Camila had denied it.

         “He will come soon Camila, I’m sure of it,” remarked the raven-haired girl to her new friend. Camila simply smiled and asked Lauren to tell her about herself. Lauren talked to her about her obsession with Harry Potter which Camila quickly replied to with a “Me too!” and they ranted about the infamous movie together. She also talked to her about her favorite subject, English, and offered to help Camila in any way she could. The brunette smiled shyly but her reply was interrupted by the bell. They both shared a giggle before returning to class; the thought of making a new friend elevating both their moods. There was a certain ease that flowed between them; as if they were always meant to talk to each other.

Lauren had a feeling that this friendship would last.

——

       “Laur……. wake up,”

     Camila whispered as she nudged the sleeping girl next to her. This must be her 80th sleepover over the past 6 years. It was almost 5’oclock in the morning and Camila couldn’t sleep. The raven-haired girl was curled up in a fetus position next to her on the king-size bed in her own room. The thick duvet was tangled in between Lauren’s legs, naturally stealing the whole thing from Camila’s side. Her hair was in a mess; sprawled all over her shoulders and her face. Camila shifted her position, so she was propped up on her elbows and facing Lauren.

      “Laur…. c’mon… it’s important,” the brown-eyed girl tried again, this time using her free hand to shake her friend’s shoulder slightly and sports a small endeared smile when she saw Lauren stirring awake with an irritated look on her face. She raised a hand and attempted to tame the thick mane of hair on her head; running her hand through her hair. An action that Camila had seen so many times throughout the years; knowing it to be a tick of nervousness, and in this case, restlessness. Sometimes Lauren reminded her of a cat when she woke up; the slight arch of her back and the lack of movement of her limbs.

     “Camz,” Lauren said with her emerald eyes struggling to open, voice rough with sleep and tone threatening; causing Camila to slightly shuffle backwards instinctively. Camila had been on the receiving end of that tone many times, and it’s safe to say, it kind of scared her.

         “I swear to you, if you woke me up just to ask me a stupid question I am gonna kick your a- “

    “Do you think I’m funny?” Camila interrupted her, her voice low but determined, like she had been contemplating on this fact for hours (and she had); now sitting cross legged on the bed facing Lauren, a serious look adorning her face. Lauren, now fully awake, irritably sat up, wiping her eyes; hoping to make her tiredness vanish. She pulled down her slightly ridden up oversized black shirt and looked into Camila’s eyes; alarmingly intense for someone who just woke up.

         “Yes.” Camila brightened up, a megawatt smile etched on her face.

        “Really, are you serious?”

        “No.” Lauren deadpanned and fell back into her previous position, turning her back to Camila, and mumbled something about “kicking ass”. Camila, flabbergasted at Lauren’s rudeness (not aware of her own) huffed and moved fast; grabbing Lauren’s shoulder, effectively turning her back around. Lauren’s eyes snapped to hers, and Camila pouted her bottom lip, hoping that it had the same effect on Lauren that it always has. Lauren’s eyes darted to her lips and she let out a sigh. Why did that always work? She brought her arm up to her forehead and focused her gaze on Camila; almost as if telling her to say what she wanted to say, now that she has her full attention. Camila took a deep breath and clapped her hands in front of her (something she always did when she was about to rant).

       “Well, we’re starting high school in two months,” Camila ventured and played with her own fingers but was interrupted by a loud groan from Lauren; also earning an eye roll from her beloved best friend. The amount of times she had to hear Camila rant about high school was insurmountable. “Let me finish, you vampire,” Camila remarked restlessly, calling Lauren her favorite nickname for her as it coincides with her flawless alabaster skin and the sharp canines that are present in her mouth. She prided herself for coming up with that one. Lauren brought a pointer finger her to her lips; telling her she would be quiet now. Camila let out another sigh before she continued.

           “We will be meeting so many new people and we will, unfortunately, have to interact with them. Ugh, interact!” Camila exclaimed loudly, causing Lauren to give her a look that said shut up or my parents will never let you sleep over again.

           Camila got it (they have some telepathy link, don’t question it) and whisper-yelled, “I can’t do that! You, by first-hand, know how much of an awkward shy mess I was when I met you and now I must have more than one friend or else I’ll look like a total loser and complete loner! And we are gonna be stuck with the same group of people for 4 years! Don’t you think it’s a bit weird that we are our only fri-,” Camila stopped when she saw the glare that Lauren gave her.

          “Okay, okay,” Camila surrendered with her hands up. “My point is, maybe if I’m funny, which to be honest with you, I really think I am,” Camila said with a small shrug of her shoulders, letting out a dramatic huff when Lauren coughed into her hand a strangled “yeah right”. Camila pointed an accusatory finger at her best friend with incredulity swimming in her eyes and justified her statement, “You know you laugh at my jokes, right? Who are you trying to fool, Laur? Hmmmm? You are the one giving me false hope!” Camila accused and ran her fingers through her hair and resumed before Lauren could interrupt her by putting up her pointer finger.

           “All I’m saying is, to fit in, I think I need to be funny. People find funny people likable right? I can make more puns than usual…. Oh, I can even google some jokes online! People love jokes right? Ah, I’m just so stressed Laur, okay? I think I might have social phobia, I think I might need a therapist, I think i-“ Camila’s ridiculous speech is interrupted manually when Lauren leaned forward and put her hand over her mouth, a perfect eyebrow arched as she eyed Camila. There were too many rhetoric questions which the green-eyed girl couldn’t keep up with.

           “Are you done yet? My head is hurting… listening to you speak,” She said with a yawn, taking her hand down from Camila’s mouth and instead taking Camila’s hand in hers and intertwining their fingers. She could see the heavy breaths that her best friend was taking so she looked intently into Camila’s eyes; hoping to calm her down.

           “We’ve talked about this before Camz, just be yourself,” Lauren assured slowly, making sure Camila heard her, “And even then, if no one wants to be friends with you, then they don’t deserve to be your friend. And okay, I admit it,” Lauren said, rolling her eyes playfully, “You might be a little funny, but having a good sense of humor isn’t the only thing that makes someone eligible to be a friend. You don’t have to try to improve yourself so that others like you, likability isn’t everything. And besides, you still have me, right?” She told her in a low tone, brushing her thumb over Camila’s knuckles. Camila managed to even her breathing, listening to Lauren talk. Lauren was always the rational and sensible one, whereas Camila tended to overthink everything and make herself panic for no reason.

        Lauren always had a way to bring Camila back to Earth and she was forever grateful for that. She didn’t even know she had her eyes closed until she opened them and saw emerald eyes focused on her with a smile that was infectious. Camila nodded, taking in Lauren’s words and holding them close to her heart. She fell back onto the bed; finding a comfortable position on her pillow. She turned her head to her right and she saw Lauren still watching her. Camila gave her a cheeky smile.

        “I know I’ll always have you Laur,” confirming Lauren’s words from earlier, “but I think I’m getting a little sick of you,” she said feigning nonchalance as she checked her fingernails and a small smirk grew on her lips. She then heard Lauren’s laugh bounce across the room; causing her heart to jump as her best friend mumbled a quiet shut up, you love me, now sleep into her neck as she cuddled closer to Camila. Her quiet snores filled the room in mere minutes and Camila felt content.

                She really did love her best friend.

                Platonically of course.

——

      Both took a few deep breaths before walking into the alma mater that would be their source of education for the next four years. They had picked out their outfits with slight panic (mostly Camila) the day before, hoping that they will be able to convey good vibes through them. Lauren particularly cared less, sticking to her standard skinny black jeans with a few torn holes in them and a faded band t-shirt, whereas Camila shuffled through her whole closet looking for the outfit that was the one. She emphasized to Lauren that “first impressions matter”, and she really didn’t want to look like a noob, especially since her elementary school clothes looked like they were puked out by a unicorn and suddenly seemed too small for her. All bright colors and glitter. The opposite of Lauren’s wardrobe. Lauren found it cute.

        “Of course you do, you’re blinded by our friendship!” exclaimed a frustrated Camila to Lauren who was laying down on Camila’s bed, having gone through her wardrobe for the fifth time, still unable to find something that satisfied her. With that, Lauren, finally having enough of Camila’s antics got up from the bed and took her hand, dragging her out from her bedroom and down the stairs.

        “That’s it,” she said with a definite tone to the brunette whose hand she was holding, “You are coming over to my place and you can borrow my clothes. And, no, don’t fight me, we are going shopping tomorrow after school to get you the clothes that you wouldn’t be embarrassed to wear. Okay?” she said without waiting for an answer from Camila and letting her walk with her free will once they were outside to Lauren’s house which was just down the street.

        Finally, Lauren managed to find an outfit for Camila which was suitable in Camila’s eyes. She settled with dark blue jeans and a white flowery blouse. Lauren had to admit that Camila looked good, her eyes raking up her friend’s body proudly. Thankfully, they were around the same height, so they could borrow each other’s clothes if they wanted. Camila wore a white bow on her head (as she had an extensive bow collection) paired with the outfit, though she admitted to Lauren that she might stop wearing them soon.

        As they walked toward the auditorium for their orientation, they felt as if they were fresh bait, and in this situation, they kinda were. Gone were the days of boys who were shorter than them and sported boyish looks that were immature and unattractive.

       The boys they saw had chiseled jaws and towered over them; some wearing their signature sport jackets. It was obvious that there were a few boys who were crossing the line of appropriate and flaunted their ego as they whistled when the two girls walked by. Lauren wrapped a protective arm over Camila’s shoulder as she saw her best friend’s cheeks flush like she’s never seen them before. Camila eyed Lauren and mouthed “How are they so hot?” as they walked into the auditorium, finding seats for them amongst the sea of freshman. Lauren simply rolled her eyes at her response, not expecting anything less from her friend of 6 years.

       She’s seen enough movies with Camila to know that her friend was easily attracted to boys. She’s heard her fawn over the lead actor and wish that she was in the heroine’s position. She was a romantic and a sucker for a good-looking dude. The only downside is that 80% of the good-looking dudes were also douchebags. And she has told Camila this fact many times but was often waved off by Camila asking her “not to kill her vibe”. The boys from the school hallways didn’t really phase her much.

      She always found herself feeling as if boys didn’t really interest her much. Maybe she should give them some time.

       Because Lauren was blessed with goddess-like features, she was often the target for boys, though she never pursued them; telling herself that she was too young for a relationship (but in truth, she was just scared). She had piercing green eyes and thick eyebrows that framed them, followed by a perfect nose and plump lips. Lauren did not look her age, and she blamed it on puberty. She only got the devil’s curse last year, but it had made some major progresses in the way that Lauren looked; sharpening her features and even making her voice lower than it already was, giving it a slight rasp.

     Camila on the other hand, was a late bloomer, often complaining about the lack of boobs and butt her body possessed. The only real effect it had on Camila that was noticeable for now was her voice; her once high-pitched and squeaky voice was now low and controlled. Lauren assured her that her body will change, and it will take time, “Every person is different Camz, and please stop poking my boobs, you’ll get your own soon”.

        On a few alarming events, Lauren had found herself admiring a girl or another at random places. Maybe at the shopping mall, or the streets or even the theaters. She had always admired heroines on screen (Hermione Granger, duh) and lead actresses, but she always chalked that up to admiration. She wanted to be like them. She idolized them and their qualities. She didn’t dwell on it much, even today when she noticed the cheerleaders and the beautiful girls in the hallway alongside the jocks too. She told herself it’s admiration like a mantra; for she was afraid that it might be something that she couldn’t come to terms with then.

        She was snapped out of her worries when she heard the deafening screech of a microphone as the Principal tried to talk into it. Half the auditorium flinched, including the brown-haired girl next to her.

       “Hello everybody, and welcome to Miami High!” announced the grey-haired Principal with an excited tone. The students clapped, though rather unenthusiastically, and listened to the rest of the Principal’s speech. After that, the students were divided into five groups and escorted around the high-school so that they were able to see the field, the gym, the cafeteria, the likes of their classes, the office, the teacher’s lounge and so much more. Excitement and slight apprehensiveness filled the air as the freshman felt like their lives were going to accelerate from this point on.

       At the end of the day, all the students were gathered at the gym so that all clubs and societies that wished to promote themselves, could. Clubs like Science and Mathematics, Debate, and even those that revolved around religion made their short presentations, giving the freshman the details of where and when their meetings would be held and what to expect if they joined the club.

      Camila, however, perked up when the Glee Club made their speech. She always felt at home with music; it always being there no matter what language she understood. She remembers listening to the radio on the way to America for the first time, the notes and the melody of whatever song that was playing calming her instantly. Ever since then, music had always been her passion. She learned the guitar at the age of ten by herself and found equity doing so. Naturally, she started singing as well. Lauren, after hearing her for the first time, was flabbergasted at her talent. She complimented her with wide eyes and a bright smile, telling her that her voice was “amazing and unique!” and proceeded to give her a tight hug; telling her she was going to be a superstar. The alabaster skinned girl always found a way to boost up her ever-unsteady confidence.

        On the other hand, Lauren was always inclined to sports. She had a history of playing softball with her family and even in elementary school. She loved the thrill it always brought her; the air stacked with competitiveness and the hammering of her heart when she felt sweat roll off her face. It also helped that she looked damn good in a uniform, as pointed out by Camila. “You’ll have an ass like mine soon, don’t worry Camz”, Lauren had cheekily retorted to her best friend; earning a playful punch to the shoulder for that.

        So, when she saw that the Softball team was recruiting, she was excited to join. Not to mention the fact that the girl who was presenting was breathtaking with her wavy blonde hair and lithe figure, but Lauren would never admit that to herself.

         “Lauren, I think I know what club I’m joining,” A distracted Camila with reddening cheeks remarked, still eyeing the cute boy with the blue eyes and curly hair who had presented for the Glee Club. A minor perk, she thought; attempting to get rid of the butterflies in her stomach. She always found colored eyes beautiful, ever since she saw Lauren’s.

         “I think I know too,” Lauren replied as she followed the blonde head until she disappeared out the gym; a thundering heart conflicting the staged thoughts in her head.

——

        “Who the hell picked Mulan for the five-hundredth time?” Camila huffed as she sat down on the carpeted floor of Lauren’s living room in her pajama pants and faded Spongebob t-shirt; eyes catching sight of the Disney symbol appearing on the TV.

    “Don’t look at me, Chanch…. you much rather look towards your best friend over there,” a tall dirty-blonde haired girl remarked from her slumped position on the black leather couch. She was in the process of checking Twitter for the umpteenth time that day and indignantly pointed her finger towards the kitchen where her green-eyed friend remained preparing the popcorn.

    “How do you even know it’s Mulan? … It hasn’t even started, also, I’m pausing it because the girl of the house isn’t here yet, Lauren hurry up!” a dark-skinned girl with flawless skin and perfect teeth bellowed, taking the remote from the tall girl next to her on the couch and paused the DVD player.

    “Mani, the kitchen is really not that far away, I can hear you fine if you talk with your normal volume thank you very much,” the raven-haired girl sassed as she walked into the living room seconds later with two green bowls filled to the brim with popcorn in each hand; the buttery smell causing everyone to whip their heads to the delicious snack; earning collective “That smells so good” and “God, I’m hungry”.

     Lauren passed one bowl to the two girls on the couch and maneuvered around them, sitting next to Camila on the floor and placed the other bowl in front of them.

      “I know it’s Mulan because,” Camila directed her narrowed gaze to Lauren who had a messy bun on her head as she sported a done-with-your-shit tone when Lauren pretended to pay attention to the movie that had just been resumed, “It’s the only Disney DVD that this vampire possesses. And we have watched it a million times,” she finished with a whine; head tipped back.

        “I don’t mind though. Mulan is such a badass,” retorted the dark-skinned girl, munching on popcorn and Lauren turned her head around with a huge smile on her face and gave her friend a high-five with a “Yes, Mani understands”.

       “It wouldn’t hurt to have a Lion King disc in this house,” the dirty-blonde retorted, sending an unamused glare at Lauren and holding it; her phone finally put down. “I mean, its only the best movie Disney has ever created,” she said with a small smirk as she saw Lauren whip her head to the opposite side of the couch with her jaw comically open; ready to start a debate.

       “Okay, y’all better stop before it even starts,” Camila quipped, putting both her pointer fingers up, one directed at Dinah, and the other at Lauren. “Forget I said anything, lets just watch the movie okay? Okay,” she answered herself.

        Lauren simply narrowed her eyes at the blonde and the other does the same back. She playfully does the I’m watching you gesture with her hand and the other girl does the same back to her with a smirk placed on her face. Lauren broke her serious façade and chuckled throwing popcorn at the other girl who, with surprisingly fast reflexes, caught it and popped one into her mouth; giving her a victorious wink. Lauren childishly stuck her tongue out at her and whipped her head back to the TV with a chuckle; entertained by her friend’s antics.

       Dinah, the dirty-blonde, became friends with Camila through Glee Club. When Camila attended the audition for Glee Club, looking like a scared puppy, Dinah, the ever-active social butterfly who was also a freshman, approached her with her boisterous attitude and personality. Camila was majorly shy at first, thinking Dinah was older than her because of her height and her looks. Who the hell looks like this at fourteen, she thought to herself eyeing her mature features.

       But when Dinah sat with her throughout the meeting and made funny jokes and highly inappropriate comments about the teacher as well as some seniors, the brunette had her hand covering her wide-open mouth as she couldn’t believe the straight-forwardness that the blonde had; deciding that she needed this person in her life and unable to deny the spontaneity of their friendship. It continued to progress as they talked about their passion for music and their favorite artists and deepened even more when they heard each other sing.

      Dinah’s voice was smooth like silk but at the same time strong and soulful; it had Camila’s mind reeling with disbelief and amazement.

       “Are you sure you’re not related to Beyoncé? Because you kinda look…. and sound like her” Camila extolled her with genuine curiosity, totally starstruck after listening to her new friend’s audition.

      “Pfft, I wish,” the dirty blonde flipped her hair over her shoulders playfully, giggling after that with a shy smile on her face and voiced a soft thank you.

       After Camila’s audition, the blonde practically ran towards her and engulfed her in a bone-crushing hug. Camila, not used to that type of contact with a person she had met only a few hours ago, had cheeks red as a tomato once put down by the other girl whose smile was so pretty that it was hard to look at.

       “I’m sorry,” she apologized sheepishly, still grinning at Camila, “I’m just so happy that you’re amazing at singing, cause I want to stay friends with you cause you’re really nice, and I can’t be friends with you if I have to lie to your face all the time, that’s just cruel, so thank God that you can sing,” she rambled, gesturing wildly with her hands; her chocolate orbs meeting another hue in Camila’s.

Camila’s smile couldn’t go any wider.

       And when she introduced her to Lauren the next day during lunch at the cafeteria, her heart soared when they clicked instantly, comparing passions and jokingly throwing jabs at each other. Both of their carefree spirits clashed, and a new friendship bloomed right in front of Camila’s eyes. She was so happy.

       Lauren met Normani Kordei during the softball tryouts. The other girl was warming up, bending in positions that Lauren couldn’t even dream of reaching and found herself staring. Embarrassingly, that’s how they met for the first time.

         “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” the dark-skinned girl mocked as she felt the green-eyed girl’s eyes boring into her.

           Flushing a deep red, Lauren instantly looked away and attempted to explain herself; just realizing just how creepy it was to stare like a moron.

           “I’m so sorry, you’re just so flexible,” she explained with a shy grin, her eyes unable to meet the other girl’s; reprimanding herself for being a weirdo. Attempting to steer clear of an awkward conversation she added, “Do you do gymnastics or something?”.

           The dark-skinned girl who had been watching the girl with a lopsided grin adorning her face, let out a small giggle; getting up from her position on the ground, sweat shining on her forehead. “Yeah, I actually did,” she confirmed, showcasing her pearly whites. “What’s your name?” she asked.

          Lauren sputtered, not expecting her to engage in conversation after acting like she did. “Um, I’m Lauren. Lauren Jauregui, I’m a freshman” she told her, a shy smile on her face. The other girl gave her a toothy smile in return and told her, “My name’s Normani, I’m a freshman too and it’s nice to finally meet someone new… even though you kinda forced our interaction,” the black-haired girl who had her hair in a ponytail teased her with a smirk on her face.

 Lauren’s eyes widened.

         “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to stare, I know it’s rude, but I swear I’m not a weirdo,” she ranted, her eyes meeting the dark ones of the other girl’s pleadingly; hoping to have repaired some damage. Normani just lets out a laugh and slings an arm around Lauren, urging her to walk with her on the field, effectively turning her around in the process. “I’ll be the judge of that,” she commented, smirk still in place. Lauren was about to respond but got interrupted by the blow of a whistle. Normani only shrugged and let go off her, leaving Lauren to let out a frustrated sigh.

        The tryouts carried out flawlessly for Lauren. She managed to meet the coach’s expectations and she even passed the fitness training that they had. She felt content with her tryout and felt ecstatic when the coach gave her two thumbs up after she was done. She met Normani’s amused glare a couple of times and simply shrugged. She also realized that the blonde who had presented on the first day was there with all the other team members, watching and assessing the newcomers and she felt a blush warm up her cheeks as she managed to get a closer look at the girl.

        She noted her long blonde hair that was in a ponytail just like hers was and her sharp features, especially her jawline. She shook her head, getting rid of her wandering thoughts; not wanting to be distracted on this important day.

       Normani wasn’t far behind; her speed and agility were prominent. She would be perfect to run base, Lauren thought, amazed with her skills. The coach seemed to like her as well, giving her two thumbs up as well.

         As she gathered her stuff in the locker room, the blonde from the auditorium approached her and Lauren felt like throwing up. Out of fear or out of excitement she couldn’t tell.

       “Great play out there, I’m looking forward to seeing more of you,” she complimented, a soft palm on her shoulder; causing Lauren’s brain to short circuit for a second before replying with a soft “Thank you. I hope so too” before the blonde, flashed her perfect white teeth and rushed off. Holy shit, she’s so beautiful, Lauren thought absentmindedly; as she replayed the moment in her head repeatedly, not realizing just how incredibly gay she was acting. It’s probably just a minor girl crush. People have those right?

        Before exiting the locker room, Normani caught up with her; her outfit changed after taking a shower and proceeded to sing her praises. Lauren blushed and thanked her, before finally starting a conversation that did not start on a bad-note. She fawned over her amazing skills as well before asking her about her previous school, her parents, her passions and Normani did the same with her. They spent their time walking and talking back to the entrance of the school and they exchanged numbers. Lauren found out that Normani had a great sense of humor and was a very humble person; it warmed her heart.

       She introduced her to Camila and Dinah the next day and felt her smile grow when they speedily gelled with each other; questions and puns bouncing off the bubble that the four of them had created for themselves. She met Camila’s eyes at the table and smiled at her; holding her gaze, knowing that they were thinking the same thing.

They couldn’t have asked for a better pair of friends.

          This lead to them hanging out whenever the four of them could. Basking in each other’s company and building a bond that was solid. So much laughter, meaningful talks and even inside jokes developed between them. Trips to malls, theaters, amusement parks, and the regular sleepovers that happened in either girl’s house were a constant for them. Because they also had classes together, they even studied together and opted to be paired with each other whenever there were paired assignments or groupwork to be done.

           “We have successfully formed a clique! Isn’t this exciting!” exclaimed Camila one day; effectively interrupting the heated debate that was going on between Normani and Lauren about the likes of pineapple on pizza; causing them both to turn to Camila with annoyance.

           “Mila, why do you make everything sound uncool….,” Dinah said uninterestedly from her position on Camila’s bed, during their first ever sleepover together as a foursome.

           “Shut up CheeChee,” Camila huffed her nickname for Dinah and rested her head on Lauren’s shoulder next to her. Lauren instantly lost her irritation.

           “Aw, Camzi, don’t be sad, you’re uncool, but we like that about you,” Lauren purred into Camila’s ears with a baby voice; causing Normani in front of her to wince.

            “Girl, speak for yourself,” the dark-skinned girl supplied, feigning indifference, and got a high-five from Dinah who had leaned over Lauren and Camila with a loud “Yas girl!”; practically shoving her boobs in front of their faces.

         Camila sat up abruptly and shoved Dinah away from Normani with one hand and got fake angry, trying to suppress a smirk as she pointed a finger at her. “You traitor! You will pay!” she yelled as she jumped on top of her, simultaneously grabbing a pillow and straddling her and whacking Dinah’s body with it.

 (Camila can be coordinated if she really wanted to, even though she was an uncoordinated mess 80% of the time)

          All of them knew that Dinah was strong enough to beat all of them up without even using half of her strength, but she feigned weakness as she cried “Stop it! I’m dying! You’re a monster!” to Camila in a British-accent (nobody knows why), with her hands outstretched in front of her and trying to stop the blows from the pillow Camila was holding.

         Lauren and Normani exchanged a look that can only be translated to why are we friends with these children before smirking at each other and snatching the pillow from Camila’s hand. They then pull Camila off Dinah into the space next to her. She screamed bloody betrayal as all three of her friends ganged up on her and tickled her, her laughs ricocheting and echoing through the room.  

           Which brings us back to their Mulan movie night a year later, where Camila heard Dinah and Normani’s slight snores behind her. And where Lauren’s head was on her lap and her fingers subconsciously ran through her luscious hair. Camila silently watched as the heroine in front of her saved China and she couldn’t be more satisfied.

——

       No matter how much time the foursome spent together, Lauren and Camila would always find time only for the both of them. They hung out mostly at their own houses, just reveling in the presence of the other girl. Lauren laid down on Camila’s bed as Camila strummed a few notes on her guitar, sitting on the chair adjacent to the bed.

Sophomore year is about to end soon, and it scared them how fast the years are going by.

       There were small changes that resided between both the girls, externally and internally. Externally, it was more related to the reputation that they had in school. Lauren was known as one of the best softball players on the team. Her name was chanted during every game; often being the player which manages to win them the game. Every time, she sees Dinah and Camila on the stands, shouting their heads off; faces painted with their school’s softball team colors. Knowing how much Camila despised sports in general but still took time to learn the rules and regulations of the game just so that she could come and support Lauren, meant everything to her.

       Dinah was much more aggressive than Camila, shouting expletives at the referee at every foul he gave the school team (even though sometimes he would be right); causing Camila to clumsily cover her mouth and try to calm her down before they got kicked out from the stands. Every time Lauren would hit a homerun, she’d run all bases and whip her head to the stands just to give Camila a flying kiss.

(She convinced herself it was for Dinah too)

(But deep down, she knew that was not true)

       The emerald-eyed girl found out the blonde girl from the auditorium’s name as she played on the team as well. It was Ashley Frangipane and she thought it was the most beautiful name ever.

It got harder and harder for the girl to dismiss the way her body reacts whenever she sees the other girl.

       She had only ever exchanged friendly-teammate conversation with her; mostly talking about the game or new tactics that they could use. The blonde was also the captain of the team, so she was always there for every practice and it made Lauren’s heart trash around. As they always played mock games, Lauren’s eyes would find themselves trained on the blonde girl and her limber figure.

       They trailed over the curves of her body constantly and spent the most time on the girl’s face. Plump lips, prominent cheekbones and a sharp jawline had turned Lauren into complete mush; unable to control her ever-growing crush. Normani had caught her staring and being distracted one day, and she confronted her about it; noting the dreamy look in Lauren’s eyes.

        “Something you want to tell me, Lauren?” Normani asked with exhortation lacing her tone as their practice ended, a small smirk on her face as her black eyes shifted to Lauren’s.

        Lauren flushed and gave Normani an angry look, suddenly feeling defensive but mostly fear. “There’s nothing to tell, Normani. Now back off, and mind your own business,” she reprimanded with an annoyed gaze aimed at Normani, tone hard but faltering at the end, reflecting the fear she possessed as she rushed to the showers without waiting for Normani.

        She felt guilty for letting out her frustration at the dark-skinned girl and immediately apologized to her as she exited the shower; finding her in the locker room with a sad smile and an apologetic look on her face. Lauren simply shook her head and wrapped her arms around her; mumbling a “sorry” into her neck. Normani nodded; she understood.

       Lauren thought about her feelings for Ashley that night. She had been feeling this way for a long time and Ashley was a senior. And to make it an even more impossible catch, she had a boyfriend and was very blatantly straight. She often caught Ashley talking about boys or gushing about the cute things her boyfriend did for her. She always felt a twinge of jealousy in her heart and she despised it. It makes her feel sticky and disgusting, but it hurt her even more because she knew that her love could never be reciprocated.

       She doesn’t know why it’s so hard for her to accept. She supported the LGBT+ community with her whole soul, but it didn’t occur to her just how much of conflict they go through finding themselves until she experienced it herself.

       It made sense, she figured. The constant excitement to see heroines in action, the constant rejection of boys who had asked her out, the confusing dreams, the way her heart thumped against her chest when she saw beautiful girls like Ashley, or even Cami-, oh no, that was her best friend, she dismissed.

(She thinks of the word beautiful, and all she can come up with are two names. Not knowing the significance of the latter until later)

         But she finally realized that it wasn’t admiration, it was longing. She was finally coming to terms with who she was; a tear slipping out of her eye as she thought about how her traditional family would ever accept her or how her beloved mom would react. It’s the uncertainty that was killing her.

        Camila was popular in her own way. She was known for always performing at school events with the Glee Club by her side. She enjoyed it, feeling the rush of a combination of both excitement and nervousness before grabbing a mic and giving her all into it. People seemed to love her voice, often getting compliments from random students after her performance and people begging her to start her own YouTube channel. She even had the chance to play a side character, Anita, in her school’s adaptation of the musical “West Side Story”.

       With each performance, Camila’s shyness was slowly stripped away to bare a much more confident woman that wasn’t scared of social interaction anymore. She had a shining new attitude and Lauren beamed at the changes her best friend was going through; watching from the sidelines and feeling so proud. Lauren was there for every single performance, shouting at the top of her lungs once they were done; clapping her hands ferociously and catching the sight of Camila looking at her with huge smile on her face.

      Sometimes, Camila looked for her in the audience and when she found her, she cracked a smile and winked; Lauren’s heart thundering in its cage for the sole reason that she was in love with Camila’s voice. Yes, her voice.

That’s what they did, support each other.

       Camila’s crush for the blue-eyed boy in her club was slowly growing to be unmanageable. He had a smile that made Camila’s knees weak and a voice that made her heart skip a beat. They would usually sing together as their voices go well together.

(Camila liked to think that they would go well together too.)

       “Cheechee, I swear Drew looked at me when he was rehearsing today,” she informed Dinah excitedly, daydreaming about his broad shoulders and lean body along with the angular features that shaped his face. She just wished she could run her fingers through his shabby black hair. Dinah simply yawned, “Ugh, why are you so gone for this boring white boy, haven’t you seen Mario?” Dinah retorted, licking her lips thinking about the senior. “Mmmm, now that’s a tall drink of water,” Dinah fantasized, thinking about the chocolate-skinned hunk who was also in Glee Club with a voice so smooth it made butter seem rough, as Dinah would put it.

        Camila would just roll her eyes, mumbling something about “not getting it” as she daydreamed for the rest of the club meeting. She had talked to him a few times, mostly about practice and which notes she could improve on, but nothing more. However, sometimes, she would catch him staring at her during practice; only for him to quickly turn away when she does. She internally squealed every time, so sure that it could mean something.

       Does he like me back? The brown-eyed girl pondered; a little excited but scared at the same time having no experience in relationships at all. He was a year older than her, but that was because he had to repeat his sophomore year.

Camila was determined to find out though, she had to shoot her shot.

         Returning to Camila’s room, Lauren’s head swam as she thought about ways to break the news about her new discovery to the brunette. She slowly sat up and leaned against the headboard of the bed; her eyes darting over to the brunette who was concentrating on her guitar as she strummed a few notes that strangely sounded like “Hello” by Lionel Richie. Her eyes raked over the messy brown hair that framed her friend’s face; noticing how her face had been looking a little bit more mature lately. It had become longer in a way, making her cheekbones stand out; giving Camila a strong Latin look. Lauren smiled as she took all of this in in awe and thought, my best friend is so beautiful.

Camila looked up then, feeling Lauren’s intense eyes on her; goosebumps rising on her skin. She gave her a lopsided smile, putting her guitar down and climbing onto the bed next to her. Her long legs stretched out in front of her; matching Lauren’s position and looks over to the emerald-eyed girl who is still staring ahead. She had a tense air around her which made Camila frown.

         “Hey,” she said, putting a few fingers on Lauren’s chin and turning it so she would face her; but her eyes were trained on Camila’s plain red shirt instead. Camila saw the furrows between Lauren’s eyebrows and coaxed, voice low, “What’s wrong, Laur?”. Lauren visibly tensed up then, her eyes slowly making their way up to Camila’s face and settling on the two chocolate orbs that always seemed to be there for her when she needed them. They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment and Lauren’s heart pounded in her chest; not because of their proximity (that’s what she told herself) but because she was about to reveal a part of her that she had kept hidden from Camila for a few weeks, and her acceptance meant so much to her; it hurt for her to think otherwise.

        Lauren took a deep breath and looked away from Camila, breaking their eye contact. She then shifted her position to sit cross-legged so that she was fully facing her. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath, putting a finger up to silence Camila’s worried “What’s going on?”.

        “Camz, I’m going to tell you something and you have to promise me you will not say anything forat least 30 seconds, not until you process it, okay?” Lauren drawled nervously, her voice shaking slightly; like she was holding in tears (and she was). Camila opened her mouth to say something but closed it and nodded instead, now sitting cross-legged as well as she faced Lauren as well; feeling like she could cut the tension with a knife.

There was pin drop silence before Lauren blurted out the two words that she had been dreading for weeks.

“I’m gay,”

       Lauren kept her eyes on Camila and was slightly mesmerized by the series of expressions that passed her face.First, it was very neutral, her eyes just looking at Lauren like she was trying to connect the words she just heard to the person who was sitting in front of her. Then, it was recognition. Her eyebrows arched higher than Lauren knew they could ever go and her mouth parted slightly, like she was dumbfounded by the information. And lastly it was happiness, a wide grin taking place on her face as she processed the new information and Camila felt her eyes brim with tears of joy and relief, worried that Lauren would tell her some horrible news; and this was nowhere close to that.

              Before the 30 seconds was up, Camila had jumped forward into Lauren arms, hugging her like a Koala Bear; her face buried into Lauren’s neck and long arms clutching onto her. Camila felt Lauren hugging her with equal desperation and she felt tears on her neck; her heart wobbled in her heart and she moved her hands up and down Lauren’s back trying to tell her that everything was going to be okay. She didn’t say anything though, keeping her promise to Lauren that way. After what felt like 2 minutes but was probably only 20 seconds, Camila pulled back and brushed the tear tracks that were on Lauren’s cheeks with a watery smile and chastely kissed each one before hugging her tightly again.

         “I’m so happy you decided to tell me, Laur. You know this doesn’t change anything for me, right? You’ll still be my vampire, Laur, you can’t get rid of me that easily,” she murmured into Lauren’s ears; lips brushing her earlobes. Lauren was ticklish, so she let out a little giggle and kissed Camila’s cheek when she pulled back.

                “I love you,” Lauren said, her eyes shining with happy tears.

               "I love you more,” came the instant reply from Camila. “I’ll be with you every step of the way, Laur. I’ll always be by your side,”

          And Camila kept her promise when Lauren decided to tell her family the next week, standing right next to her. She was there when her mother simply smiled at Lauren and replied, “And the sky is blue,”.

        She had the pleasure to see the blatant dubiety in Lauren’s eyes before they filled with tears and she ran into her mother’s arms. Clara and Lauren both told her father later in the evening when he came back. Camila simply waited in Lauren’s room assuring her that she will be right there; not wanting to intrude on an unofficial family meeting. When Lauren opened her bedroom door, walked in without a word and sat on the bed, Camila assumed the worst. She quickly shuffled closer to Lauren, ready to comfort her when Lauren simply burst out in laughter. Camila was slightly worried until Lauren collected herself and searched for Camila’s eyes.

         “He said the same thing, Camz. The same…. freaking…thing,” she declared, wiping the tears from her eyes and hugging Camila tightly.

 “I’m so grateful for all of you. So grateful,” Lauren croaked, her voice breaking in the end.

        When the news was broken to Dinah and Normani after they came over after school, they simply shrugged and said, “We know,”. Dinah gave a pointed look at her and disclosed, “Haven’t you seen the way you dress?” with a raise of one of her perfectly trimmed eyebrows.

        Lauren looked dumbfounded, superbly confused at all the nonchalant reactions she had been getting from the people who were close to her, well, excluding Camila, but Camila was a master at being oblivious, so no surprise there.

         Normani simply said one word, “Ashley,” and Lauren’s cheeks turned a deep red. Seeing the fierce reaction from only the mention of a name, Dinah gasped loudly and glared at Lauren, “Oh girl, you better have not be keeping the details of a juicy relationship from me,” she taunted, cracking her knuckles and taking a step closer to Lauren.

“You better tell me who this Ashley girl is, or so help me Lauser, I wi-“

       “Okay, okay jeez guys, can ya’ll just chill, there’s no such relationship” Lauren tried to calm them down but only managed to heighten Dinah’s feeling of being left out; “Oh, I am chill, you haven’t seen me not chill”.

       Camila, however, felt a sudden pang in her chest at the mention of the girl’s name and the implications behind it. It confused her, a frown taking place on her face, but she categorized it to feeling left out as well. She then joined in on Dinah’s you-better-tell-me-now-or-I’ll-kick-your-ass speech to Lauren. Lauren waved her arms up and down yelling “Okay!”multiple times before diving into her story of her crush and the total failure it came to be.

Camila felt a bit better after that.

(It’s only because Lauren isn’t keeping anything from her anymore, nothing else)

——-

        Lauren and Camila got their first kisses in the middle of their junior year; both their kisses happening in slightly different ways that they had imagined.

         Once junior year started, Lauren had fully embraced her new self and was completely open with her sexuality in school. News travelled like wildfire throughout the narrow hallways of the school and the students took it relatively well, though she still got some dirty looks from her peers. She didn’t really care though, because those that were most important to her were right next to her with their never-ending support. Lauren became sort of a safety beacon, as after she came out, other boys and girls alike came out themselves. It was as if they needed someone to do it first for them to have the confidence to. A few of them had come up to Lauren with words laced with candy, praising her bravery and her confidence. She could only blush deeply and say “thank you” when they did.

It also seemed like puberty had decided to take another round on her.

           She had become taller, curves shaping her body at all the right places; highlighted by the torn black skinny jeans and low-cut t-shirts that she always wore. Her cheekbones and jawline were much more prominent than they were before, bringing out her eyes more than usual. Also, because of softball, she gained a toned body that was flawlessly showcased whenever she wore crop tops; her slight abs peeking through. She lost all the excess baby fat that she had. She looked hot and the stares she often got confirmed them.

However, she was not the only one.

         Dinah had pleaded and begged and probably bribed Camila (Lauren chose to believe that) to join a beginner hip-hop dance class with her that was just outside town. The excuse she used on Camila was connected to the lack of coordination that she possessed and convinced her that she needed it if she wanted to be the lead actress for the musical production of ‘Grease’ that the Glee Club was going to produce for their senior year. Camila reluctantly agreed and followed her to the first class. She had almost quit right after because of the obvious lack of dancing skills that she possessed, but Dinah (like the Devil) pestered her, persuaded her that it was very common and all she had to was just be a bit confident with herself. Class after class passed by, and major changes were being achieved in both Dinah and Camila. Both weren’t even plump to begin with, but with the unusual sweaty activity that was foreign to both of them, their bodies slowly started to lose all the baby fat that resided in it as well.

          Dinah lost weight in her face and her hips, making her look leaner and taller than usual. Her cheekbones making a more pronounced appearance, and her curvalicious body turned heads.  Camila’s face was slowly losing the fat in it which made her jawline only that much sharper. She also ditched her lengthy bow collection and got a better hairstyle; side bangs and layered brown luscious hair flowing from her head.

         Puberty finally made an appearance as well, making her grow a few centimeters. Her butt curved considerably more and even a slight presence of boobs had Camila sprouting exuberance.

         Lauren still remembered the day she noticed the obvious change that had happened in Camila. It had been a few months into junior year when Camila wanted a sleepover at Lauren’s house; claiming that she needed her “Lauren Time”. Lauren was reading ‘To Kill A Mockingbird’ on her bed for probably the third time in her life whilst waiting for Camila. She looked up from her position on the bed when she heard the door open and sure enough, Camila walked in with a loud “Hi, Lo!”; throwing her overnight bag on her bed. She had come straight from her hip-hop class with Dinah (Lauren still laughed at that, always earning an unamused glare from her best friend), so she was still sweating. She was wearing a gray crop top that was drenched in sweat and black tights; her hair up in a loose ponytail, a few strands escaping to frame her face along with her bangs.

          Lauren’s eyes found Camila’s body over the cover of her book, and it widened comically; thanking the Gods that Camila was focused on her shoes so that she couldn’t see her reaction. Camila suddenly looked like a stranger; causing Lauren’s jaw to silently drop. Her eyes ran down her body and choked slightly when Camila bent down to untie her shoes. She did get an ass like mine, Lauren’s subconscious chimed somewhere in the daze that Lauren was going through.

         It was a struggle to tear her eyes away from her best friend as they found the silver of abs peeking through the exposed caramel skin between the hem of her crop top and tights. It didn’t help that they were glistening.

Get a fucking grip, Lauren.

She didn’t even notice that her bottom lip was held captive by her teeth until she let it go, running her tongue over it. She cleared her throat and forced herself to look back at the book; playing it cool. “Hi, Camz,” she replied after what felt like an eternity; mortified when her voice came out low and husky. Camila walked close to her and grabbed the book out of her hands; Lauren’s eyes snapping to her face and widening slightly again. Her eyes graced the once familiar face she had known, now mature with new lines and prominent cheekbones and a jawline that could cut her decorated with shining eyes; strikingly attractive.

Lauren was speechless as she watched Camila’s lips move, but not hearing her; still caught in her stupor.

              “-again. And-, Lauren are you even listening to me?” Camila accused, snapping her fingers in front of Lauren’s gorgeous face. It was then Lauren finally got a grip of herself, slightly hypnotized by the movement of Camila’s plump lips.

         “Sorry babe, I spaced out,” Lauren tried to play off. She returned to her best-friend mode right away though, “Maybe you should take a shower Camz, you smell like something the cat dragged in,”.

         Camila only dropped her jaw in offense and gave Lauren a push that barely moved her; mumbling “Shut up” under her breath loud enough for Lauren to hear. She proceeded to take her clothes from her bag and step into the shower that was right next to Lauren’s bedroom.

         Lauren willed herself to stop the irregular beats of her heart as she tried to calm down. I like girls, so it is normal to feel attracted to pretty girls, and my best friend is pretty. That’s it, Lauren reminded herself like a mantra in her head. Never mind the fact that her friend suddenly looked like a supermodel. She cleared her throat and tried to get the image of Camila in sweat out of her head.

          When Camila returned, she had to get these new (or so she thinks) thoughts out of her head by normalizing it. She was always open with Camila anyway. So, when Camila walked in with only booty shorts and a faded black shirt with Spongebob’s face on it and wet hair, Lauren was rather harshly reminded that this was a girl that she had known forever. She situated herself next to Lauren on the bed and grabbed a book from Lauren’s nightstand, but before she opened it to read it, Lauren jokingly faced her and asked her:

          “So, when did you get an ass?” she questioned with a sly tone and a wiggle of her eyebrows. She smirked when she saw the blush to rise to Camila’s cheeks as her jaw dropped opened.

          Camila let out a playful scoff and pushed Lauren’s shoulder away from her. She pursed her lips and gestured with her right hand to nothing.

          “Turns out, all I needed was some exercise,” she confessed playfully flipping her wet hair over her shoulder (a habit she learned from Dinah), “who knew I had to sweat a little for puberty to finally hit me,” she joked, her tone incredulous and eyes wide.

          “Well, you still got a long way before you get an ass like mine so…,” Lauren trailed off, lying through the skin of her teeth and pretended to resume reading her book, her voice raspy.

 She then felt Camila chuckle next to her and her heart warmed up.

          “Wow, you’re so humble,” Camila said eyeing Lauren’s symmetrical side profile, silently admiring it; identifying a crack in her façade, “but it’s true though, your ass is amazing,” she concurred, admitting to Lauren’s submission and causing Lauren’s breath to hitch.

(She was so used to Camila complimenting her, so why does it suddenly have new effects on her?)

            Lauren, begging her upcoming blush to go away, looked at Camila then with a hand on her heart; simulating shock. “Oh my God, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me Camz,” she whisper- yelled at her, dramatically wiping a non-existent tear from her eyes; causing Camila to have full-fledged laugh, her wide smile stimulating feelings in Lauren she couldn’t explain.

           It was June when Lauren got her first kiss. Being the Casanova that she was in high school and earning looks of longing from many people, she was bound to get a few date proposals. Ashley was long gone but she still rejected most of them, due to just pure fear of a full-blown relationship; knowing that she must concentrate on her studies to get into the university that she had always dreamed of going to along with Camila; and commitment just takes up a lot of time.

        However, when a petite-brunette called Ariana Grande that was in her Biology class asked her out with fluttering eyelashes and a sly smile, she had to reconsider the ‘rules’ that she had made for herself in her mind. This girl was beautiful in every sense of the word. Dimples at the side of her mouth whenever she flashed her toothy smile at Lauren along with Italian features that popped out; high-key causing Lauren to stare at her a few times. Her wavy brown hair rushed past her shoulders, making Lauren’s hands itch to run her fingers through them. So, when Ariana shyly approached her after one class, her heart jumped up to her throat and found herself automatically saying “Yes” to her when she asked her if she wanted to watch a movie that night.

          Camila, who was beside her at that time, suddenly felt a pinch in her heart. She was confused as to why she suddenly felt like throwing up and slapping Ariana at the same time. She forced a smile on her face when Lauren squealed and jumped up and down with her after Ariana left the class; three words leaving her lips that caused Camila’s stomach to ache, “I have a date!”.

         The Latina chalks up her confusing body reactions to just pure concern for her friend’s feelings. This was her first date, and she wanted it to be great for her. It didn’t help that she barely knew this Ariana girl, and she felt slightly jealous.

No, not of Ariana. But, of Lauren.

          She had been trying to get Drew’s attention for so long. Camila had hinted that she liked him so many times every time she talked to him, but it always ended up with him chuckling awkwardly and fleeing the conversation.

But it was so easy for Lauren to get dates. People were throwing themselves at her.

(Maybe it’s cause she’s so hot, a distant part of Camila’s brain blurted, and Camila merely pretended not to hear it)

          “What is it about me, Dinah?” she had asked Dinah, frustrated and a little hurt after a particularly useless interaction with Drew after a Glee Club practice they had.

          “I have no idea, Chanch, maybe he just can’t handle the fact that you’ve turned into a hot mama in the past few months,” Dinah assured her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder but Camila only rolled her eyes; mumbling something like “I’m not a hot mama” under her breath.

          “He’s just shy. Maybe you should make the first move,” advised the dirty blonde to the girl with the sad milk chocolate eyes the week before. Ever since then, Camila had been building up the courage to ask the boy out, ideally during the Glee Club practice they were going to have tomorrow.

Maybe that’s why she was feeling a little put off with Lauren getting a date before her.

         She texted Lauren before her date, commanding her to tell her all about it after she came back from the date; finding her rationality after the minor emotion lapse she experienced at school. She had offered to help her with her outfit, but Lauren had declined distractedly. She said that she already knew what she was wearing. So, as enthusiastically as she could, Camila hyped the raven-haired girl for her date seeing that her best friend was incredibly shy.

         “You’re gonna be fine, go kill it, Laur,” she had encouraged her. She waited patiently by her phone; knowing Lauren would keep her promise and call her.

            It was half- past ten when she received the call from Lauren. Unsurprisingly, Camila had fallen asleep and was woken up by the steady ring of her phone. She shot up and grabbed it as soon as she remembered the occasion when she saw “Vamp” flash across her screen.

           Breathlessly and living vicariously through Lauren, she impatiently questioned her. Without even a ‘hello’, Camila garbled, “Oh God, how was it? Tell me everything!”.

           It was quiet on the other side for a while, and Camila felt her smile slipping off her face; suddenly worried that the date was horrible. But before she could cajole Lauren, she heard her soft voice through the phone, and this time, her smile did slip off her face.

         “She kissed me,” came a low voice, emotionless, until it was repeated, much louder and dripping with excitement, “She kissed me, Camz! I just got my first kiss holy shit,”

          Camila felt her heart beating in her chest, and that’s all she could hear for a while. She felt the same pinch in her heart earlier and this time she knew she was jealous of Lauren. She had gotten her first kiss before her.

(It couldn’t possibly be anything else right?)

           She really wanted to be happy for her friend, but the thought of her kissing someone else only made her skin crawl. The thought of Ariana kissing her best friend was causing her to feel sick.

          “Camz, say something! I’m freaking out here!” Lauren exclaimed, and Camila was so thankful the alabaster skinned girl couldn’t see her right now. She didn’t know how she would have been able to control her expressions.

         She didn’t know what she was expecting. People kiss on their first dates, that was normal. So why was she so shell shocked? She used her drama skills to feign excitement and scream back “Oh my God Lauren! That’s amazing,” as her chest heaved and her voice high-pitched, “Spill the tea!”.

          And she heard how Ariana held her hand through out the whole movie and shared her popcorn with her. How she had bought her chocolates. How she looked so cute in her floral summer dress. How she picked Lauren up and kissed her on the doorstep.

         “It felt amazing, Camz,” Lauren gushed to her and Camila could only hope that her first kiss would be like that; the burning in her heart intensifying. It gave her everything she needed to ask Drew out the next day.

         After Glee Club practice and some supportive thumbs up from Dinah who was creeping from outside the room, Camila sauntered over to Drew; confidence and determination radiating from her pores.

She couldn’t pine over him anymore, she had to grow a pair.

       So, she took a deep breath as she stood in front of him and asked him out to a dinner date with her. Drew could only stare at her for a moment; unable to comprehend the fact that Camila had just asked him out before he could. He then nodded stupidly, a small “Sure” coming out from his mouth. Camila grinned victoriously and gave her his number, and also taking down his. She finally did it, she’s finally going on a date with someone she had a crush on since freshman year.

      Why the hell did it take Lauren getting into a relationship for her to pursue one as well? She waved goodbye to him shyly and turned around; catching a glimpse of Dinah’s happy dance outside the room. She rushed over to her and joined her in it.

She was finally going to get her first kiss that she had always dreamed of!

Oh shit.

She was finally going to get her first kiss that she had always dreamed of.

      After school, Camila had texted Drew and confirmed the date to be on next Friday so that she could get to know him more and pick a restaurant that would appeal to both of them. She had told Lauren and Normani the moment she saw them after their softball practice, jumping for joy. Normani had given her a proud tap on her shoulder and announced, “My baby is growing up,” before taking her into her arms.

Lauren, on the other hand, had a bittersweet feeling swirling in her heart.

(Actually, quite like the feeling that Camila had gotten)

      Camila was finally going on a date with the boy that she couldn’t stop talking about since freshman year, and knowing about how romantic she is, this must seem like a sign to her. Lauren was afraid for Camila. Afraid that she would get manipulated by the boy, afraid that he would take advantage of her, afraid for her security, at least that’s what she told herself; but then again, she had never really talked to the boy.

       Sure, she had been pointed to his direction a few times by an effusive Camila and that was it. He could be an actual nice guy for all she knew, he already had the good-looks part down. But she was happy for her, she was gaining new experiences just like she was with Ariana. She had no say because Camila had been completely nice and supportive about her growing relationship with Ariana. They had planned to go out again after school, and Lauren was smitten by her. With that thought in her mind, she dismissed any weird feelings in her heart and embraced the brown-eyed girl, mumbling into her ear with her low voice, “I’m so proud of you, Camz,”.

       “If you need any help with your outfit, you tell us Chanch. We will be there in no time,” assured Dinah with a hand on her hip, and Normani nodding beside her.

       “Yeah, Camz,” Camila’s attention snaps to the emerald eyed girl, “Just let me know if you’re doubtful about anything okay?” she said to Camila, grabbing onto her hand and brushing her thumb over her knuckles. Camila’s cheeks flushed for some reason at the action, and she thanked all of them. She went back home with two words drilling into her head: first kiss.

And it was those same two words that caused her to panic a few days before the date.

       Camila paced around her room, overthinking the whole situation as usual. She had managed to pick out a suitable restaurant, but her mind was going haywire over the fact that she might be kissed in a few days.

       She didn’t know how to! She thought about all the possible situations where she drastically embarrasses herself and she felt anxiety course through her veins.

       What if she accidentally bites him? Or what if he wants to use tongue? What if she drools on him? All the what ifs were only heightening the nervousness in her. So, she did the one thing she could think of, she called Lauren.

       Hearing the troubled tone in her voice, Lauren had abandoned her plans to call Ariana and instead rushed to Camila’s house with distress. Camila hadn’t told her the problem and she was worried. She reached her house and greeted her father on the way in.

(Camila’s father had finally made it to America when she was nine)

       When she reached her bedroom after taking two steps at a time, she opened the door to find Camila sitting cross-legged on her floor and biting her fingernails; a nervous tick of hers. Lauren quickly shuffled next to her, sitting in the same position and putting a hand on her shoulder.

        “Camz, tell me what’s going on, what’s worrying you?” Lauren coaxes, removing Camila’s fingers from her mouth causing her to finally look up into her eyes. Lauren’s tone was rough but smooth at the same time; calming Camila instantly. She wondered how Lauren did it. Lauren noticed how Camila started fiddling with her fingers before she let out a sigh.

          “Kisses,” she whispered, looking anywhere but at Lauren, feeling her cheeks ablaze with the shame from her confession. Lauren only gulped, Wow this is new, she thinks. She knew that her date with Drew is in a few days and that is probably the source of this lip virgin panic. Lauren slightly shuddered at the sex panic that Camila would go through if she was this panicked about a kiss.

          Lauren herself had kissed Ariana a few times, feeling her heart soar whenever she did. She used to think that it probably didn’t feel that great, but she refuted her thoughts once she felt her lips touch Ariana’s. It felt like she was floating. She only used tongue once with her, and the sensation made her feel like she was drowning; her pupils dark after. But she was still an amateur and only a little bit more experienced than her brunette friend.      

          “Camz, c’mon, look at me,” Lauren started, cupping her face and turning her back to face her. “It’s fine to feel nervous, but please don’t overthink it,” she cajoled, meeting Camila’s watery eyes.

         “All you have to do is let the vibe guide you, just pucker up and you’ll be fine,” Lauren advised her with a smile, intertwining their fingers. Camila frowns, running her free hand through her hair and flipping it to the side (a habit she learned from Lauren).

         “I’ve watched enough movies to know that Lauren, I just don’t want to be bad at it, it’s the worst scenario,” she frustratedly explained, her eyes dimming. “He has had girlfriends before, Laur. And he’s gonna compare me to them, and what type of girlfriend will I be if I can’t even kiss right?” she whined, a stray tear running down her cheek.

         Lauren’s heart ripped at the edges as she watched her best friend crumble in front of her. She felt like she would do anything to stop her from crying; to make her stop. She hated to see her friend hurting. She shuffled closer to her and hugged her from the side, running her hand over her lithe back.

         “Camz, you’ll be fine. I have gone through this before. I went in unprepared but look at Ari and me! We’re still together right? And she’s even complimented me on my kissing skills, Camz,” she informed her with a smile, her voice soft and soothing; reaching her hand over to tuck a stray hair behind Camila’s ear, “Practice makes perfect, Camz,”.

          An epiphany had hit Camila when she heard those last words, like she had just found a tool in her toolbox that could finally complete her project. It made so much sense, it was the perfect plan.

She didn’t have to go in unprepared…. not when she could practice.

         She looked up abruptly then, facing Lauren with wide eyes and parted lips. The tracks of her tears drying.

(It’s a decision that Camila would come to regret…or be thankful of, later)

         “Kiss me,” Camila softly told Lauren, her cheeks on fire. This was one way she could have an honest opinion about her kissing skills.

        Sure, she would be giving her first kiss to Lauren, but she rather it be with her; someone she trusts with her life, than a boy that might leave her in a few months for a petty reason.

         Lauren could barely hear her, she thought she had to clean her ears. She was sure she heard wrong. Or Camila had gone crazy. It had to be either one. Though her heart was racking up a storm in her chest, she didn’t want to get her hopes u-believe it.

        Her eyes bulged out of her skull and she had one eyebrow arched. Camila would laugh at the comical look if the atmosphere around them hadn’t thickened like oatmeal in the last two seconds.

 “I’m sorry……what?” a dumbfounded Lauren looked at Camila; praying to God that she was joking.

But Camila was dead serious.

The 16-year-old turned her whole body to face Lauren, having a determined look on her face.

          “Just think about it Laur! It’ll just be a peck! Just so I know what to expect with Drew,” Camila explained, her hands gesturing wildly around her, eyes wide. “Please Lauren, it’ll just be two seconds and then it will be done! We will keep this between ourselves, its just practice, Laur,” Camila begged her, still eyeing an expressionless Lauren who couldn’t find any word in the dictionary that she could use to reply to Camila.

         “We don’t have to do it if you’re uncomfortable, I understand, but please think about it, please,” Camila drawled out, catching onto the hesitation her friend was exuding. She had a partner for God’s sake.

          Lauren realized the extent of the situation, she would be kissing her best friend. Her beautiful best friend. The best friend that induced a few feelings in her that she didn’t understand. The best friend with doe eyes that could make her do anything, and oh shit- she has pouted.

          Lauren covered her face with her hands, needing to not look at Camila’s full lips right now. The image of Camila’s bottom lip jutting out replaying in her mind for more reasons than one.

But it’s Camila. And she would do anything to stop her from hurting.

She was gonna regret this.

          “Okay,” she murmured dejectedly into her hands before she heard an excited shriek erupt from the brunette. Lord have mercy.

           Camila calmed down after that and smiled cheekily at her, not paying attention to who she was about to kiss but more to the action that she was about to commit. For Lauren, it was the complete opposite. Camila’s smile was wide before she closed her eyes and she took a deep breath, calming herself and taking both of Lauren’s hands into her own. She peeked one eye open to see an incredibly nervous Lauren and said the magic words,

                 “Ready when you are,”

           Lauren wanted to get it over with, so she inched as close as possible to Camila’s face. Taking in her long eyelashes, the slope of her perfect nose, her plump lips; she shuddered internally.

Fuck, what am I doing? She thought disbelievingly as she felt Camila’s breath hit her face and suddenly felt like she had to prove something.

She held her breath and leaned forward to place her trembling lips firmly on Camila’s, feeling all her senses heighten as she felt electricity course through her veins; as if Camila was a power source. Lauren’s heart pounded against her chest and she worried that Camila might hear it.

           Even though she had kissed Ariana multiple times, none of those kisses matched this and she was afraid that this would happen, feeling like she finally found a missing piece of a puzzle while she kissed her best friend.

           It literally took her breath away and she couldn’t control herself for the life of her. Lost in all things Camila, she enclosed Camila’s bottom lip in between hers for a second before letting it go, her forehead resting on hers; breathing in her air for a few seconds before pulling away to see Camila open her shining eyes the same time as she did.

           The kiss lasted for less than 3 seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Camila then simply brushed her lips with her pointer finger and thumb. As if she was trying to inspect or recreate the feeling that she felt a few seconds ago.  She tasted like cherries, Lauren thought licking her lips as she eyed Camila’s lips, still swimming in a charged stupor.

What she didn’t notice was Camila was looking at her lips too.

          She snapped out of her daze and gave Camila a shy smile, flipping her hair to the side with her fingers and trying to play off the now painful beats of her heart. She felt as if things were slipping into place, but she felt sick because it was.

She couldn’t explain it.

        She couldn’t explain why Camila made her feel things Ariana couldn’t. Too mortified to even consider the other option.

(Actually, she could, she just didn’t want to)

           “So,” her voice came out husky and cracked, “How was it?” she asked Camila, who had been staring at her the whole time; like she was ruminating something. She took a few seconds to reply, giving Lauren a smile that didn’t really reach her eyes.

               “It felt magical,”

Lauren almost choked on air.

               “And,” Camila resumed, voice vulnerable, “How was I?”

          Lauren felt her throat dry up, as she felt an inevitable lump forming in her throat as the thoughts in her head went wild. She identified the truth burn on her tongue, but she couldn’t say anything. She couldn’t admit it. She couldn’t for now, so she simply gave her a winning smirk, her eyes missing the way Camila’s chest heaved for a second.

           “Eh, you need a little work,” Lauren joked, earning a chuckle from Camila; effectively cutting the fiery tension between them. Camila shuffled back to be situated on Lauren’s side as she just laid her head on her shoulder, her eyebrows furrowed. Lauren felt like she had to clarify; like she had to let Camila know at least half of the truth.

           “I’m kidding Camz…. you felt magical too,” Lauren uttered to her after she gathered her confidence, her cheeks ablaze as her voice became shaky. Camila turned to look at her then, her eyes fixed on Lauren’s for a few seconds and Lauren felt the air get charged around her. But it was broken just as swiftly when the Latina broke eye contact with her and gave her a lopsided smile, playing with her own fingers.

           “I’ll let Drew be the judge of that,” she delivered with her tongue stuck out and her voice teasing, and although Lauren smiled at her, she felt her heart fracture at her words.

There’s always gonna be another Drew, Lauren.

           So, stop, while you’re ahead. Unless you want to ruin this irreplaceable friendship that you have, her inner voice barked at her.

So, she listened.

#UPDATE #series #AU #camren #laurmani #caminah #normila #norminah #laurinah #angst drama #humour #romance fluff #submission #You Feel Like Magic To Me

[fallinglikemagic]

Eavesdropping

Just a small drabble I spent way too much time on

Read on AO3

_______________________________________________________________________

A slight breeze blew through the ruins near the Fountain of Polaris, dark grey clouds floating overhead as Akko gazed up at the sky. Small bits of grass squeezed through the cracks in between the bricks and tickled Akko’s legs as she sat on the ground, leaning back against Arcas, one arm draped across his back and running her hand through his fur.

“I dunno, I just...I think part of me knows what these feelings are but doesn’t want to admit it? Does that make sense?” she muttered to the bear, who responded with a soft rumble.

“Yeah, I guess I should focus on learning bear language before asking you for help, huh?” she chuckled at herself. “It still feels nice to talk to you though...”

Akko leaned forward, slamming her hands on the ground and glaring at the pavement. “It’s just, I used to think she was annoying and stuck up, but she’s actually really nice and pretty and smart and she always gives me this look that makes me feel really weird.”

Arcas rolled his eyes, having heard this 3 times already in the past 2 hours.

“And I know I shouldn’t feel this way, cuz she’s way outta my league and I know there’s no way she’d ever feel the same but I can’t help feeling this way and she just gives me this beautiful smile and she says these things that make my heart beat like crazy.”

Akko leaned back with a sigh and sat in silence for a bit, watching the sky. The clouds were darkening and she knew she’d probably have to head back to school soon, but she couldn’t get herself to move right now. Her mind was racing with conflicting thoughts as she thought over her feelings. She knew she was lying to herself, that she knew what this feeling was, but she couldn’t admit it to herself. Even if she did, where would she even go from there? After all, Akko knew that someone like her had no hope of winning the affections of such an incredible witch.

Arcas lifted his head from his paws, ears twitching slightly as he sniffed the air curiously. Akko didn’t notice as she sighed heavily before continuing her rant.

“She’s so beautiful but also really cute? Like, have you seen Diana embarrassed? It’s so cute the way she tries to hide in her hair or act all formal to hide it! And then when she’s happy and her eyes look like they’re glowing or something and her hair looks so soft and I wanna hold her hand and kiss her and she’s just so wonderful~”

Akko was disrupted from her daydreaming by the sound of a pebble being kicked across the pavement, and she immediately turned toward the sound to see Diana staring at her, eyes wide, clutching her broom close to her chest.

“D-D-DIANA?!” Akko stood up, wiping herself down and hoping that Diana hadn’t overheard anything. “W-what are you doing here?”

“M-my apologies, I did not intend to disrupt anything,” Diana silently cleared her throat. “There is going to be a storm soon and Professor Chariot asked me to go look for you.”

“O-oh, right...”

For a few moments, silence filled the area. The breeze from before had gotten stronger and colder, signalling the approaching storm as Arcas looked between the two girls with mild interest.

“I...heard what you said...”

“Eh!? W-wait, how much did you hear?”

“Enough to know of your feelings about me...” Diana’s voice grew quieter with every word, looking to the ground, her face burning. Meanwhile, Akko found herself wishing the ground would just swallow her up so she could avoid this situation and avoid Diana for the rest of her life - or at least until she forgets about this whole incident.

“I...I’m sorry...”

Diana’s head whipped up. “What are you apologising for?”

“I know there’s no way you feel the same - I mean, you’re Diana Cavendish! You’re an amazing witch and everyone looks to you for advice, even the teachers! You’re smart but also athletic and you’re just so perfect and I’m just...just Akko.” she sighed, eyes downcast. “We both know you’re way out of my league, you deserve someone better.”

“Akko...” Diana placed her broom down and jogged a few steps to stand in front of her. “Akko, look at me.”

Akko gazed up for a second, clearly holding back tears before she looked back down. “Akko.” Diana lifted Akko’s face, forcing her to look into her eyes.

“D-Diana?”

“Don’t say that about yourself. You are more than ‘just Akko’, you’re Atsuko Kagari, the wielder of the Shiny Rod and the successor to the brilliant Shiny Chariot. The one who prevented a massive war and restored magic to the world in the process. The one who returned magic to it’s former popularity and the one who tamed the famous Shooting Star,” Diana smiled softly, “The one who stole my heart.”

Akko gasped as he eyes widened, cheeks growing red. “W-wait, you-”

Diana nodded before placing a chaste kiss on Akko’s lips. “Come on, we need to get back to the school before the storm starts.”

She turned around and picked up her broom before turning back to Akko, only to find that the Japanese witch had frozen in place, her face the colour of her eyes. Diana rolled her eyes and, after casting a spell to keep her broom afloat, walked back over to Akko with a smile.

“Are you alright?”

Akko snapped out of her daze, nodding. “Y-y-yeah, I’m good...”

Diana smirked and picked Akko up in a bridal carry, catching the brunette by surprise.

“D-Diana!?”

“You looked like you needed a hand.”

“J-jeez...” Akko leaned into Diana, snuggling against her in a way that made Diana’s heart feel like it was about to burst. She sighed happily as she brought Akko over to her broom, placing her down on it (Akko pouted at her as she put her down) before sitting in front of her.

Akko wrapped her arms around Diana’s waist, leaning into her and burying her face in her hair. Diana blushed a bit and placed a hand over Akko’s before slowly taking off and flying back to the school.

#dianakko #diakko #akko kagari #atsuko kagari #kagari akko #kagari atsuko #atsuko 'akko' kagari #diana cavendish #arcas #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #lwa #little witch academia #oliver's writing

[merigreenleaf]

I need to get this rant off my chest

I'm writing up scenes where my trio starts to realize that they have feelings for each other and I'm already cringing at the response of future readers. This is why I rarely bring up this part of my story to anyone outside of Tumblr- the few times I have, the responses were less than positive. I know people are going to have a problem with this and think it's "offensive" or "too adult"- just because it's not a pair of cis/straight people in the relationship. Then it would just be seen as something tame because all I write is tame. I'm a comedic fantasy writer and honestly, if this hits anything heavier in plot than PG, I'd be surprised. (”Mild cartoon violence”and “comic mischief” is like my jam lol.) Yet I bet these people who would have a problem with this are also the types who see nothing wrong with misogyny and abuse and unhealthy relationships that pepper tons of cis/straight media. And that's what hurts me so much: that my characters are going to get scrutinized and disliked in a way that they never would if I was writing cis/straight ones. (Or possibly I could slide if I was writing "the right kind of triad"- the "sexy" kind with two women involved. I've heard that before, too.) This relationship is a lot of hugging and hand holding and kindness, not smut in any way. But because it's lgbt+, it must be adult. Ugh. Just ugh. The trio I'm writing... gods, it's such an incredibly healthy relationship and their interactions always make me smile. They were close friends first and this grew into a relationship built on trust, loyalty, and respect. They don't push the others to do something they'd be uncomfortable with, both in terms of the relationship and in terms of, say, their fears. (One's terrified of heights, another has social anxiety.) And they ask before they do something and check up on the other two to make sure things are okay. It's healthy as hell in a culture where triads are the normal form of relationship. I'm not saying that fictional lgbt+ relationships have to be healthy, but the fact that mine is and I'm still going to hear (and have heard) negative responses just makes me sad. I know my target audience isn't going to respond this way, but I guess I'm so afraid of having too many negative reviews based on biases of some readers that people who would enjoy this won't find it or will be pushed away. I know this is putting the cart before the horse because I’m not anywhere near publishing yet, but it’s a constant worry. So yeah. Just kinda felt like saying all that. I’m going to put an excerpt from the scene I’m writing now under the read more cut. It’s unedited and rough draft-y, but this is basically my approach to this relationship. This is one of the scenes where friendships is shifting to romantic and I think it’s freaking adorable. I love these dorks.

------------------------- Blythe nodded and Adair went to follow her into the wagon, but Etri stopped him by taking his hand again. Before Adair could respond to this, Etri pulled him into a hug. Quickly Adair shut his eyes. Blythe was right, this was too strange, but right now Adair wasn't going to turn down a hug even if Etri was almost invisible. Except Etri *shouldn't* be hugging him. “You said you couldn't touch me. I don't want to make you...” Adair wasn't sure how to finish that sentence. Show affection? Do something you don't want to do? It didn't matter, though. Etri understood. Not shifting away in the slightest, he said into Adair's hair, “It is all right. You are as Blythe. I did not mean to frighten either of you.” ‘As Blythe.' That meant Adair was now a close friend and hugging was okay. That was a relief. He hated the thought of making Etri do something that made him uncomfortable. Adair couldn't speak for Blythe and her discomfort about Etri's weaving returning in this strange way, but at least he could explain himself. “You didn't. Not really. I mean, I'm okay with your weaving. It's not that bad down here. Just on the roof it added to the height thing and that scared me.” He took a small step back and opened his eyes again. Now that he was really looking, Etri was slightly visible because of the constant silvery glow of his weaving. He couldn't see Etri's face, but he smiled up at it anyway. “How could I be scared of you when you and Blade and Sol have done so much to help me? You could turn into a huge, terrifying monster and I'd still be happy you're here with me.” Etri chuckled softly- a laugh! Adair had finally gotten a laugh out of him!- and caught Adair's hand. Adair certainly didn't mind this newly-granted affection! “Thank you, Toadstool. You would not believe how much of a relief that is to hear. This should only last a few days.” A short joke again? *Now*? Adair wasn't thinking straight enough for this. He rubbed at his forehead with his free hand. “Right, that's what happened to Sol.”

(The “toadstool” thing is a term of affection that’s going over Adair’s head because of a language barrier. Etri keeps calling Adair (and soon Blythe) that, but Addy doesn’t get the meaning behind it because it comes from Etri’s culture, which is what Etri is kind of counting on because he’s too shy to tell either of them how he feels. It’s something of an equivalent to “my love.”)

#writing #writeblr #unexpected inspiration series #writers #my writing ramblings #this post got way longer than I intended but I guess it feels good to type this all up #I just hate it so much that people will harshly judge what I write just because people can be so narrow-minded