#{your a firework || max and nine }

[formulawolff]

iii. golden girl - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 3.3k

warnings: age gap, cursing, yearning, pining, some sexual content, power imbalances, toto wanting to absolutely rail you, some slight mentions of a size kink, yadayadayada, mature content!

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“holy fuck! holy fuck! holy fucking shit!”

“come here!” 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

james squeezes you tightly, nearly sweeping you off your feet as the team swarms your car, fireworks bursting in the night. it thunders through the stands, yet you can barely hear a thing as the team surrounds the two of you, jeering. tears sting your eyes, blurring your vision through the visor. 

yet, this was no time for tears. 

raising your arms, you clamber on to your car, standing on top of it. you pump your fists in the air. 

“we did it! we fucking did it!”

your voice is muffled slightly by the helmet, but your team understands your words, cheering in response. hopping off the car, you throw off your helmet, hairs plastered to your forehead, cheeks burning from the heat. 

“how did we manage that?” james is as astonished as you are, nearly trembling with excitement. although it was substantially late in the evening, he was bright eyed-and bushy tailed. 

the team principal was probably running on fumes by now, but you knew the adrenaline coursing through veins would keep him wide awake in the hours to come. 

“i don’t know,” you shake your head, “but we did it.”

“max has some competition, eh?” he teases, a hand tousling your hair. 

“i would not go that far,” your cheeks burned once again, but this time, it was not from the heat. 

you couldn’t stop grinning. no matter how hard you tried, the smile would just come back. 

it was more than likely from the fact that you just made history. 

for the first time in seventy-four years of formula one, you were the first american woman in history to win a grand prix. 

you made history today. and you would probably continue to make a name for yourself, break records, and obliterate barriers. 

fuck, this was an amazing day. 

probably one of the best days of your life. 

“good fucking job!”

“amazing race out there!”

“we love you!”

praise floods your ears as you make your way to the podium, guided by james. the stands are still somewhat packed, and you blow a few kisses and wave to fans as you stroll along. 

your heart was still thumping, blood roaring in your ears. euphoria courses through your veins, the feeling completely unmatched to anything you had ever felt before. it buzzes from your fingertips to your toes, your steps feeling light compared to the rush of the race. 

you were on cloud nine. 

making your way onto the podium, you step into the first place spot, beaming as max and checo follow suit, stepping on their designated places. your respective home flags roll down, the star spangled banner filling your ears. 

tears well up in your eyes, and you can’t help but shed a few, wiping them away with your hand as the anthem rolls on, your team waiting patiently below. 

is this how max felt every time he won? 

was this the high he was always chasing after? 

because now you understood. now you understood exactly why drivers were so determined to win. when you started your formula one career, you were more determined than ever to just place in a race. to prove the ones who had doubted you wrong. to rub it in their faces that you were a worthy competitor. most of all, to show the world what you were made of as a female driver. 

now, here you were. 

proving to the world that you were not only determined, but you were an exceptional driver. 

you were capable of winning races. 

and in your heart, you knew you were so capable of winning so many more. 

as the trophy is placed in your hands, you pump it in the air, the williams racing crew applauding. there are some shouts, some cries of joys, and suddenly, you feel a shower of champagne cascading down your suit.

glancing up, you notice that both max and sergio are holding champagne bottles in their hands, spraying not only you, but each other. giggling, you reach down, picking up your own bottle. the three of you erupt with laughter, as you douse one another. at one point, you chase max with it, tugging on the collar of his fire suit and pouring it down his back. 

the rest of the evening is a blur. everyone morphed together: reporters, crew members, even james. everything that was said to you went in one ear, and straight out the other. 

winning a grand prix was exhilarating, but god did you hate the press that followed after. 

what seemed like hours later, you were finally back at your motorhome, kicking open the door. you were sticky from the champagne, your hair caked to the nape of your neck and cap. your muscles ached, desperate for some sort of relief. 

racing an 1,800 pound car was no easy feat. 

and you were beyond exhausted. 

physically, mentally, and emotionally. 

of course, the first thing you did after the podium celebration consisted of facetiming your parents. even with the time difference, they stayed up and watched, nearly blowing out the speaker of your phone when you called. 

after a quick shower, you were perched on your couch, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. part of you wanted to fill the empty space with a pet, but you knew that all of the travel would be hard on any animal. perhaps during the offseason you would consider a cat. a big fluffy maine coon or a sleek russian blue would be perfect. 

all over social media, american fans flooded the feed with memes, edits, and comments. all of them were in support of you. and for the first time in a long time, you felt the urge to sit and read everything that was said. 

not only were your parents, james, and team proud, but your country was as well. 

as an edit plays on tik tok, you can’t help but laugh as you hear the sound, “what the fuck is a kilometer?” paired with photos and snippets of you from the grand prix. god, were these people so fast  when it came to posting the edits. where the hell did they find these clips so quickly anyway? 

a knock at your door startles you, head snapping up.

although the crew wanted to party, you had to inform them that it would have to be postponed. even though you were still running on all of the adrenaline, it was slowly trickling away, leaving your eyelids heavy and body sore. 

carefully, you trudge to the door, wincing as a twinge of pain sears through your neck. opening the door, your eyes widen. 

once again, it was toto wolff. 

this time, he had a small package in his hand. it was a crisp white paper, wrapped neatly with a royal blue bow. 

“i figured i would swing by and congratulate you on your accomplishment.”

“thank you,” apprehensively, you accept the gift in his hand, “it’s a bit late, you know.”

“i know, i know,” he exhales, “i figured i would do this privately instead of in front of the whole world.”

“the whole world as in my team?” you arch a brow. 

“yes,” he answers, swaying slightly, “can i come in?”

peering past his broad shoulders, you survey the surroundings. since it was so late, most of the crew had retired to their respective hotel rooms or motorhomes. now, it was most of the cleanup and mechanical crew, tearing down signs and cleaning up litter. 

biting your lip, you nod, inviting the austrian in, “come in.”

this time, you could sense that he was nervous. you usher him to the couch, urging him to sit. you find a spot on the opposite end, maintaining your distance. there’s a moment of silence between the two of you, toto eyeing your current attire.

of course he had to come by while you were in your pajamas. 

well, pajamas that consisted of a black skims tee and grey sweatshorts. shorts that were a little revealing, at that. 

breaking the silence, you cough, “why did you really come by?”

“you know why.” 

“i’m not joining your team,” you roll your eyes, “you can’t buy my decision with gifts, either.”

“oh?” his brows raise, “can i buy it with something else, then?”

“no,” you shake your head, “you can’t.”

“well, i tried,” he puts his hand up in defeat, “it seems you have made your decision.”

the austrian begins to stand up, smoothing out a wrinkle in his pants. yet, your spring forward, your hand delicately grasping his wrist as he turns, “wait.”

“hmm?” he hums, “what is it? reconsidering?”

“can you–” warmth fills your cheeks as he peers down at you, prompting you to speak, “i can’t stop thinking about the last time you were here. and the time we were in monaco.”

“monaco?” he echoes, “i don’t recall monaco.”

“you were probably too drunk to remember.”

your heart swells as his fingertips reach out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ears. it’s a gentle act, his hand massaging your scalp for a moment, “no, i remember. when i called you a golden girl and you acted like you’d never been complimented in your life. i offered you a drink too, and you refused. probably didn’t want to ruin your image as a golden girl, hmm?”

“you’re a little shit,” you mutter, earning a hearty laugh in return, “but anyway i–”

“i can’t stop thinking about it either,” toto settles back down on the couch. this time, he is not a couple of feet away. he plops down right next to you, only inches of space separating you two. 

“i probably think about you too much.” 

“why?” you blurt out, “why, though? i’m just another driver. i’m not anything special.”

“not anything special? little dove, you are by far one of the most beautiful women i have ever seen. ever since i saw your image circulating around social media, i could not help but stare in awe. you’re practically a model, and you drive exceptionally well? like i said, you’re an inspiration. you’re confident. you’re level-headed. that is a package deal, schatz.”

“you literally said the other night that you were trying to manipulate me into accepting your offer,” the notes in your tone are solemn. 

the team principal cocks his head, shocked at your attempt to throw him off guard. yet, your face falls as he bears a grin, his tone matter-of-fact.

“you’re not very good at this whole good cop, bad cop thing.” 

“i’d be much better at it if you weren’t so handsome,” your lips form a pout, and toto inches closer, his hand cupping the nape of your neck. 

fingertips massage the area, earning a sigh of relief, “am i really that handsome?”

“do you not remember the way i scurried away after you offered me to buy me drinks in monaco? i was a mess. i’m a mess every single time i talk to you.”

“is that why you’re so against joining mercedes?” the inquiry is innocent, with no underlying reason to prod or pry. 

well, it was not necessarily the entire reason you were against accepting toto’s offer, but it definitely was one of them. you wouldn’t be able to last a second in the paddock without climbing all over him and attacking him. 

if you weren’t careful enough, you’d probably get pregnant one night in the paddock. 

“i just think about what would happen if i did,” you shrug, averting away from his gaze, “there’s no denying i am attracted to you. i can’t just sit here and lie.”

“i know you are,” his hand wanders to your shoulder blades, carefully kneading each one, “fuck, schatz. you’re so tight.” 

you’re so tight. 

the comment sends you spiraling, hands instinctively shielding your face so he wouldn’t see how flustered you were. between your thighs, your clit throbs, and you desperately wanted him to take care of it.

you prayed and hoped to whatever god that existed that he wouldn’t notice the wet spot that was pooling in your underwear. if he kept up the messaging and the comments, it was bound to be visible on your shorts. 

“hiding, are we? don’t be afraid, little dove. i’ve done my research. you’ve made comments about me on your social media.”

“i was sixteen!” you groan, burying your face even deeper, “fuck, fuck, fuck. this is so embarrassing. i should have wiped everything before i started racing.”

“some new accounts wouldn’t have hurt,” despite your embarrassment, he’s gentle, carefully tending to your sore muscles, “after that race, i’m not shocked at how tense you are.”

“are you actually proud of me or are you just saying these things so i’ll join your little team.”

“i’m actually proud,” one hand continues massaging, while the other finds your temple, attempting to separate your hands from your face, “can you look at me?”

hesitantly, you lower your hands. as you do so, toto’s lips curl into a grin, “there she is.”

his eyes search yours momentarily, and you feel the urge to cover your face once more. but you don’t, allowing him to look. you can’t quite put your finger on what he was searching for, but you catch the glint in his eyes. 

it was simply admiration. drinking in every little part of you. memorizing every little freckle, every lash, every little detail that defined your features. 

reaching out, his thumb traces along your jawline, trailing upwards to your cheek. you nearly collapse under the gentle touch, every fiber in your being screaming to maintain your composure. 

“such a beautiful girl,” toto whispers, his voice so low you could barely hear it, “why don’t you want to be with me at mercedes?”

“i made a commitment,” you affirm, your heart nearly stopping as toto leans in, “i don’t break my promises.” 

“and i am a man of my word. i’ll make you a world champion, schatz.” 

your lashes flutter as his thumb caresses your cheekbone, “aren’t you a married man, toto?”

“that’s what you’re worried about?” a light chuckle flows from his lips, “i’m trying to make you the deal of a lifetime and you’re fretting over whether or not i’m a married man?”

your breath hitches in your throat as he leans in even more, the tip of his nose brushing against yours, “this is wrong.”

“join me at mercedes,” toto murmurs, lips ghosting over yours, “please, be my world champion.”

“do you have a crush on me, mr. wolff?”

there’s a noise that rumbles in his throat. it’s guttural, almost animalistic, “crushes are for children. let’s just say i’ve had my eye on you for some time.”

“how long have you had your eye on me?”

“so many questions, schatz,” toto tuts, your heart races as his hand wanders, finding your thigh, “what is it going to take to make you mine? i am not one to beg, but i am starting to think i just may have to.”

you stutter as his thumb inches towards your inner thigh, tracing small circles, “i-i just need some time to think about it. there’s so much at stake here, and it’s just so overwhelming.”

“what can i do to help ease that stress?” toto shifts his body, making his way to the floor, “tell me what i need to do.” 

the temperature of the room skyrockets as he gets on his knees, situating himself between your legs. his hands, oh so warm, grip your thighs. 

the austrian presses soft kisses all over, earning a mewl from you. as you squirm, you can feel him grin against your heated skin as he stops momentarily, looking up at you. 

fuck, was he as gorgeous as ever, sitting between your thighs. brunette strands fell perfectly in his face, framing it just right. in the dim light, you notice the pink hue dusting his cheeks. his lips are plush, and you fight the urge to kiss him right there, but you hold back. 

licking his lower lip, his eyes are darkened, consumed by lust, “tell me baby, what do you want? how can i help put your mind at ease? you’re practically dripping right now. do you want me to take care of you?”

“oh fuck,” you’re nearly breathless, “i – yes. please.”

“i’ll pamper you baby,” toto’s breath fans against your thigh, “you just have to promise me something.”

“and that is?”

“you’ll seriously consider my offer. i’ll expect a decision by miami,” he snaps out of his lust-filled trance for just a second, “i mean that. you will need to find me in miami and tell me what you decide. in-person. nothing over text or social media. i can’t wait around for you forever, schatz. i am going to have to consider my other options if you don’t give me a clear answer.”

“that’s not enough time–” you protest, yet your swiftly interrupted by his lips colliding with yours. 

the kiss is fiery, nearly sweeping you off the couch. his lips mold with yours, one hand remaining on your thigh while the other wraps around the base of your neck, bringing you even closer to him. a soft moan rises in your throat as his tongue finds yours, fingers delving into the waistband of your shorts.

“so beautiful,” he pants against your lips, “so, so, so beautiful. so wet for me. fuck. i do this to you?”

“yes,” you nod, “i’ve been wet since you walked in the door.”

the confession sends toto reeling, the austrian nearly losing control in that moment. his grasp on your neck tightens ever so slightly, his breathing ragged. 

he had you exactly where he wanted you. 

ever since it was announced that you were joining the world of formula one as a driver for williams racing, toto was determined to have you on his team. he was not lying when he said that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. while he tried to play it off, the team principal had a significant crush on the williams driver. 

the moment he saw that photo of you shaking james hand, he knew he was a goner. 

not only were you absolutely stunning, someone with a gift like yours needed to be put on a pedestal. and fuck, was he so frustrated when he couldn’t sign you. at the time, mercedes was full. he had lewis and george, who were oh so talented. 

of course, the team principal needed to determine whether he was simply acting on his own attraction, or if this would be a good business venture. mercedes had maintained a decent reputation. there were a few fuck-ups through the years, but nothing so significant it ruined his career. 

however, the decision to sign you to mercedes may ruin his career. he knew if he signed you, he would not be able to keep things professional. he would want you every day, every hour, every minute, every second you were around him. he would crave to just fuck you every chance he got. and if a single soul got wind of that? he would be done for. he knew he would be let go immediately. 

yet, that was the least of his worries. 

now, his priority was taking you in, bringing you home to mercedes. although he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, he knew you would shine if you went to mercedes. you would shine like the sun. 

you would be formula one’s golden girl. 

finally, after all of those weeks of pining after you, after his attempt to flirt with you in monaco, all of those stolen glances, after all fighting all of those urges to just corner you in your paddock one day and lose all of his inhibitions, confessing every sin that ran rampant in his mind. 

you were right here. and you were beneath him, so breathtaking and innocent. 

you were an angel. 

his angel. 

“the things i would do to you right now–”

a series of knocks rings through the space, so crisp and sharp.

“hey, it’s daniel! can we talk?”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

thank you so much for reading! please let me know if you would like to be tagged for future chapters! <3

[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊ ⎯  your favorite demon slayer takes you to a carnival!

『 ♡ various demon slayer x reader 』

content ; modern au (no demon slaying lol), college age, fluff to the max Happy Sunday, loves! I'm burnt to a crisp after working at the faire today, but wanted to share this sweet little thought on my mind.

The sun sets over the horizon, a beautiful mixture of pastel hues painted across the sky as the gentle breeze offers relief from the humidity lingering in the air. Soon enough, the sounds of the carnival begin to fill the air - children's laughter, buzzers and music, and the mechanical whir of the rides.

Tanjiro

Tanjiro walks with you, hand in hand, throughout the entirety of the carnival, taking notice how your eyes land on a specific stuffed animal at one of the game stands each time you passed the stall. Once you've gotten your first snack of the night, he gently leads you back to said stall to play together. It's one of those water shooting games - whoever can get their target to the top first is the winner! He pays for the two of you before you get the chance to pull out your wallet. And when Tanjiro wins, he's all laughs and smiles as he asks for the plush from the attendant, gleaming with joy when your face lights up with excitement. It's just one more to add to the pile back home, but seeing you smile makes it all worth it - he'd win you every single one if it meant seeing you this way.

Giyu

When Giyu suggested going to the local carnival for your date night, you were taken aback that he'd want to go in the first place - he's not one for crowds and noise. He assures you that he wants to step out of his comfort zone, and you'll be with him, so he has nothing to worry about. When you get there, you can't help but notice how much his eyes glitter under the various fairy lights and neon signs of the rides, in awe of every little thing around him. It's the cutest thing, spaced out while taking in the moment. Giyu insists on buying you a funnel cake - how can you go to a carnival without eating one? And when he tells you he's never had any, you share it with him while watching the fireworks show at the end of the night, snuggled up on a blanket beneath the spectacle of lights.

Tengen

You knew better than most people that Tengen was ecstatic during this time of year - flashy celebrations are in his blood, how could he not get excited for carnival season? He plans a date night for the two of you as soon as he knows the date for the carnival in his hometown. As the sun sets, he takes you around his hometown, telling story after story of his life before college and how he 'fell off that swing set at nine!' or 'I used to swim in that creek over there with friends!' It's endearing how he talks about it all like it was yesterday, or that you were there with him. Once you finally get to the carnival, Tengen wants to introduce you to every single person that he knows - old friends from school, his family, and old bosses when he worked here as a teen. They spoil you with affection, offering free tickets and snacks wherever you went. What he didn't tell you is that the firework show is organized by his family - he pulled some strings to be sure your favorite colors were used and that you had the perfect place to lay in the grass to see it.

Sanemi

The moment Sanemi steps foot onto the carnival grounds, he's booking it over to the ticket booth, loading up on the currency to jump on as many rides as possible. You've told him plenty of times that carnival rides are super reckless and will leave you sore, but he didn't care - that only added to his excitement. The thrill of it being dangerous in any circumstance made it that much more desirable for him. He drags you on to each one with him, too - the makeshift wooden rollercoaster, tilt-a-whirl, ferris wheel, bumper cars, and mirror maze...multiple times a piece. Once Sanemi can tell you're worn out, he buys you all the food you want as a 'thanks' for spending time with him. You both plow through hot dogs, ice cream, lemonade, pretzels, and of course, cotton candy to refuel. He knows you're not much of a thrill seeker, but it means the world to him (and he'd never tell you) that you go along with it all, open to trying any and everything by his side.

Genya

The thing Genya's most excited about is carnival games! He loves to show off his skills and win you every single prize under the sun - little trophies to signify how much he adores you. When you arrive, he immediately makes a mental list of which games he'd like to play, in what order, and how many tries it'll take to win you the biggest things available. His favorites are dart games and anything to do with shooting - he's an excellent marksmen from being on the archery team at his college, and can't help but show off for you whenever he gets the chance. You're his biggest cheerleader, always hyping him up before a competition, and now with these silly games. By the end of the night, both Genya's and your arms are full of prizes - everything from stuffed animals to small trinkets. The way your smile sparkles under the lights of the carnival is more than worth it to him to show you just how much he cares.

『 #reis softie sundays 』

[judjira]

prologue

pairing: reader x twice after hours wc: 578 back to masterlist

The day is done.

Either you’ve shut the last file needed for your class report tomorrow, or you’ve clocked out of your nine-to-five, or you’ve checked off the last thing on your errand list.

In any case, it’s late now. 11:34 pm.

You lost track of time somehow.

Maybe you were studying late at the library for your next final exam, or you’ve submitted the last report a coworker piled on you last minute, or you finally got those groceries you were delaying until the last moment.

In any case, you’re out on the streets of the city. Watching as the noise of the urban jungle slows to a halt, but the neon lights and the fluorescent shop signs never dim, giving the illusion of some artificial sun lighting up the night. Cars whiz by you on the sidewalk, the traffic close to nonexistent as the stoplights flash from red, to yellow, to green.

People mind their own business now. Not that they ever minded your business. Why should they? You’re just another blip on their radar, a green glowing dot that bares no significance besides the occasional blink of light to signify that you are there.

To you, they are the same.

Just a small, inconsequential dot in a sea of dots, marring a pure white canvas in nothing but shades of grey.

The world is big.

And you are small.

The sky stretches above you, going for miles and miles, past the stars that hover in the horizon, and reaches out to borders not yet crossed. It greets you in a luminous shade of midnight blue, somehow beckoning you to a world unseen, past the warm and comforting glow of the sun.

The night is not warm, not comforting.

Instead, it is cool, like the breeze at the top of a mountain, like the waves that lick at your feet on the beach, like the ice at the bottom of a refreshing drink.

Instead, it is exciting, like the flash of a firework in the sky on a holiday, like the beams of light from a car racing past you on a highway, like the city horizon with all of its power on to the max.

Yes, the night is alive.

And you with it.

Breathing the air of a time when nothing and no one should be awake, you have never felt more in tune with the inner clockwork of community.

You step out into the city, after hours.

Where do you go?

The parking lot? There is not much to do there besides get your car.

The office? Ah, maybe you forgot something in your cubicle.

The college? Hm, perhaps a stroll through your university might be nice.

The bar? Oh, it should be quieter this time of night, patrons should be scarce.

The club? Or perhaps you’re looking for a lot more noise, lights, and people.

The streets? Well, it does look rather nice out tonight, and it is quite safe here.

The gym? Quite productive of you to get some reps in at this hour.

The convenience store? Maybe some snacks and drinks will curtail your boredom.

The bedroom? It’s been a long day, no one would hold it against you to go home “early.”

Wherever you go, though, the night lures you out into the open and beckons you into a world cloaked in darkness, yet as bright as day.

It is up to you to decide how you spend it.

[lattesqueeze]

🗣️WIP RANT WIP RANT🗣️

I’d love to hear anything about your favorite WIP, or you can answer some of these prompts:

1. What’s the main ship and/or dynamic?

2. What inspired you? Convo with a mutual, music, etc.

3. How long have you been working on this project?

4. What’s your favorite line you’ve written/planned so far?

5. What concept came to you first, the plot or the characters?

6. What are you finding challenging about this WIP?

THANK YOU OML 🫶🏻

My current favourite wip is very little more than a concept at the moment, which is a Lestappen fic (no surprises lol) that I think was inspired by a tweet or a tumblr post. The secondary inspiration that solidified the concept/plot was the recent press conference when our Charlie was high out of his mind on painkillers and kept giggling and chatting with Max.

It stems from them being much younger and still karting, and one thing leads to another and they kiss. And promptly never speak of it again. Buuuut they both think of it all the time. As they grow up, they encounter some deja vu and find themselves kissing again and, shock!, it’s just as good as they remembered and more.

(Answering about this actually helped me formulate a lot of the background plot so thank you!!)

HOWEVER I also want an excuse to post this excerpt from a separate Landoscar wip, just bc I like it :’) I’ll put it under a cut so it doesn’t clog anyone’s dash!

Ten!

Shit. Lando shoved his way out of the kitchen he had found himself in, scanning every face for the soft cheekbones or warm brown eyes he had come to recognise.

Nine!

A girl Lando had definitely hooked up with before caught his arm, and tried to pull him in another direction, but he brushed her off.

Eight! Seven! Six!

Lando set his half-finished drink down and rubbed at his eyes. He was determined not to let Oscar go into 2023 alone among strangers. He just had to find him first.

Five!

Oscar wasn’t in the bathroom, or the one bedroom Lando hazarded a peek into.

Four!

One job, Lando. One job. Keep Oscar safe while showing him a good time. And, somehow, he had managed to lose him at the most crucial time of the party.

Three!

Lando burst out of the apartment and onto the balcony, where only a few partygoers were stood. The night was cool, but not unbearable, though Lando shivered a little as he stepped outside.

Two!

There he was. Thank God. Lando spied the sandy blond wave of hair and crisp white shirt, stood right by the railing, gazing out over the city. He rushed over to Oscar, and put his hand on his arm, making Oscar jump.

One!

The crowd around them erupted into cheers, popping open champagne and kissing their other halves. Without thinking twice, Lando grabbed Oscar by the back of the neck and kissed him, hard. He felt Oscar tense up for just a moment - just long enough for him to panic and regret the risky manoeuvre. But, milliseconds later, Oscar’s hands found their way to Lando’s waist, and he was kissing him back. The fireworks exploding across the city around them echoed the fireworks in Lando’s mind. When they finally broke apart to breathe, Lando grinned dopily at Oscar.

“Happy New Year, new teamie.” Lando said, almost into Oscar’s mouth, before kissing him again.

[nian-7]

700/750 Follower Event

Big thank you to all of you who decided to follow me and a thank you goes out personally to all my moots as well <3 I appreciate you all for enjoying my work and I'll strive to keep getting better at writing.

Event Details

No repeats of a character. Once a character is requested for the event, repeats of them will not be used.

Each of the slots will have a drabble made for them.

These will not be completed on a daily basis. They will be completed when I am able to finish them.

Prompts will be below for you to pick from.

Requests will stay open but they will all be on hold for the duration of the event.

Max is two prompts per slot.

Slot Requests will close on August 29th.

Prompts

🍦 - [Ice Cream Date]

🍰 - [Birthday]

🌙 - [Late at Night]

🍀 - [Lucky to Have You]

🎆 - [Fireworks (Between You)]

🧲 - [Can't Stay Away]

💘- [Love at First Sight]

🏖 - [Beach Day]

🕸 - [Caught You!]

💐 - [Flowers For You]

🥀 - [Romance Isn't Dead Yet!]

🌧 - [Rainy Day]

🎡 - [Amusement Park]

📚 - [Study Date]

🛁 - [Bubble Bath]

💕 - [Reincarnated Lovers]

❄️ - [Snow Day]

Written Prompts

" I really missed you. "

" Can we cuddle? "

" Aww, for me? "

" You're so sweet, I love you. "

" Give me a kiss real quick. "

" Where are we going? "

" You're so [pretty/handsome/cute/etc]! "

" I'm actually super nervous... "

" I'm trying to impress you! "

" I think I'm falling in love. "

" You're like.. really cool. You wanna be friends? "

" Put the game/book down and pay attention to me! "

AU Prompts (These are not required, just a fun addition to have!)

🦇 - [Vampire!reader or Vampire!character]

🐬 - [Mermaid!reader or Mermaid!character]

👑 - [Royalty]

🌼 - [Choose your own! (Specify please!)]

Slots

slot one

ei x gn!reader - 💘

slot two

winter moriarty x gn!reader - 🏖👑

slot three

lyney x gn!reader - " You're so cute. "

slot four

blade x gn!reader - 🌙

slot five

kaedehara kazuha x gn!reader - 🛁

slot six

kaoru seta x gn!reader - 🎆

slot seven

jing yuan x gn!reader - 🎡🌼

slot eight

haruka kiritani x gn!reader - " Can we cuddle? "

slot nine

jouno saigiku x gn!reader - ❄️

slot ten

rin itoshi x gn!reader - " I think I'm falling in love. " 🍀

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Brothers and Side Characters Play the Sims

I don’t know what possessed me to make this but WHATEVER. I’ve been playing the Sims since I was a wee little girl, and I’ve seen my fair share of weird Sims stuff that I feel would fit these bozos perfectly.

My Sims have a Functional Family Life Because I Don’t (Lucifer)

God dammit Levi’s obsessed with another game... ugh.

Spends 5 minutes in Create-a-Sim and hops into a starter home.

Lucifer’s the type to start with all the average stuff and then build their stuff up as his sim gets promotions.

It’s just... so peaceful...

...he’s adopting a dog.

Look at his new little virtual family... his sim-kids are self sufficient and getting A’s in school, his Sim spouse MC or Diavolo take your pick loves his Sim-self, his sim-dog-

WAIT NO- THE DOG’S AN ELDER?!

AAAAAAAAAAAAA-

...

He’s fine. It was just a virtual dog. *sniffle*

He’s now spending his free time drinking Demonus and playing the Sims.

What’s a mod? Levi why does your sim have gun?

Behold, My Gorgeous Home... It’s a Box (Mammon)

Mammon, like the rest of the HOL, is mooching off of Levi’s Origin account.

“AW SHIT! This house looks awesome! I’m gonna build it for Sim-me to live in!”

Mammon proceeds to build a box with rooms. Yay...

He just picks the funnest sounding job if he picks any job at all for his Sim. That’s how he ended up making 9 dollars an hour in the criminal career.

Didn’t stop Mammon from buying that solid gold bathroom set from Get Famous... a box with solid gold bathrooms.

His Sim is broke send help-

“Leviiiiiii my sim needs money... the people my sim kidnapped and is forcing to paint aren’t making enough money...” “Ugh... press control shift C and type ‘motherlode’.”

...Levi made a mistake.

“FUCK YEAH! MOTHERLODE!”

His sim’s life is so chaotic, he has a piranha pool that his sim has almost died in twice, the sim is carrying on several torrid love affairs, his sim got struck by lightning, his sim has nearly died in a grilled cheese making accident twice... in the same day.

At least once Sim-Mammon and Sim-MC get married things calm down a little.

Mammon finds out what custom content is and proceeds to download EVERYTHING HE CAN FIND.

And now he’s asking Levi why his computer is running so slow.

Expansion Pack King (Leviathan)

He got into it back when the Sims 2 was new, he’s a veteran fan.

“Bro remember when Agnes Crumplebottom would show up and whack the shit out of your sims if they were flirting?”

“Remember when that witch would show up randomly on the lot you were on if you had Makin’ Magic?”

“Remember when Bella Goth was abducted by aliens and we just... didn’t question it?”

He whines about the Sims4 and how crappy it is but still buys every expansion pack, game pack, and stuff pack.

This boy watches like 40 hours of built tutorials and ends up sobbing over his weird roofs.

“WHY DOESN’T IT LOOK AS NICE AS THE ONE I’M LOOKING AT?! THIS ISN’T FAIR!”

The mod folder is so full istg-

Levi gets custom content for the sole purpose of making his favourite fictional characters.

This is why Henry and the Lord of Shadows are married and Ruri-chan and Sim-Levi are roommates.

Oh my god they were roommates-

Levi also added his brothers to the world and uh... Sim-Mammon died in a tragic pool accident F.

Levi then proceeded to befriend the Grim Reaper.

He’s anxiously awaiting the release of Paralives.

Wait Gameplay? In This Build Simulator? (Satan)

Satan’s here to build and leave. Gameplay who?

Our favourite bundle of rage is a master architect and the amount of followers on the Gallery he has shows it.

He takes up those build shell challenges and always ends up making them look positively perfect.

Asmo’s always using his houses, and Satan often takes requests when he gets bored.

No Mammon, he reserves the right to refuse to build a golden castle for you- YOUR SIM HAS 40 SIMOLEONS-

No mods, no CC, he’s building with what EA gave him.

...and EA gave him debug objects, and he’s not going to explain how to get them.

The one time he did actually play with a family... it was one sim and seven cats.

He tries to play without cheats... and ends up getting frustrated and turns on cheats.

All hail the Pets Expansion Pack.

Custom Content Soap Opera (Asmodeus)

Asmo spends 5 hours in Create a Sim then just... clicks out of the game.

That’s how it goes most of the time, buuuuuut when he gets super invested in a family he’s made, boy howdy is he INVESTED.

Sim A is carrying on an affair with Sim C who’s in love with Sim B who’s married to Sim A but Sim D wants to kill Sim A and C even though they’re the illegitimate child of Sim C-

When Asmo realizes that in the Sims 4 he needs to manufacture all the drama himself and he can’t just sit back with a glass of wine and watch the fireworks, he switches to the Sims 2 and 3.

“...why is this old lady beating up my Sim..?”

He immediately recoils in horror upon seeing how ugly the Sims are pre Sims4.

HE NEEDS TO FIX THIS-

Ah, there we go, perfect. Custom Content to the rescue!

He ends up remaking the entire world just so he doesn’t have to look at weird looking Sims.

Asmo is the only one to have finished a proper Legacy Challenge, but it gets crazy chaotic after gen 3.

“My sim just got abducted by aliens and now he’s pregnant- WHAT?!”

He has about 40 saves and only two he actually plays.

Just a Big Ol’ Happy Family (Beelzebub)

Beel found the game, proceeded to make everyone in create-a-sim to the best of his abilities, and made everyone get along.

That’s why Sim-Lucifer and Sim-Belphie are on a swing set together, they’re friends :D

“Hey Luke do you think you can make this?” “I-is that a cake shaped like a hamburger?” “Yes. Please make.”

He took one look at the cooking options and decided to max out his Sim’s cooking skill to unlock all the options.

Beel proceeded to drool all over his keyboard. Gross...

Boy howdy did he have some crazy dinner suggestions!

Overall, very wholesome Sim-life, except for the time Sim-Levi died because the toilet caught fire, don’t worry, Sim-Beel knows how to make ambrosia.

All is good in the Sim save...

...until Sim-Beel ate pufferfish nigiri and fuckin died-

Wait Did I Not Pause- (Belphie)

Huh, this game looks fine... I’ll play for a little- *SNORE*

Belphie makes some sims, plops them into a starter home, plays for an hour, then falls asleep.

He wakes up five hours later to absolute carnage.

Three sims have died because someone decided to make Mac and Cheese and the oven caught fire, the kids were taken away by social services, and the dog ran away.

“...heheh, holy shit everyone look.”

He doesn’t play often, but when he does, death occurs. He has found out every death method for every game from Sims 2 to 4.

And that INCLUDES the Sims Medieval! You guys remember that game?

Sometimes it’s not intentional, but Belphie got bored with the totally normal life his sims were living and decided to spice it up.

“Why are the ghosts breaking my showers..?”

Help There’s a Bug- (Diavolo)

The Crown Prince started playing when he noticed Lucifer was playing it.

He was immediately obsessed.

Dia mostly plays the Sims Medieval because he likes the feeling of achievement after completing a quest!

“Barbatos... why isn’t my Sim completing their task? The icon won’t show up.” “My lord it appears the game is bugged.” “:(“

No one thought to tell Diavolo that EA doesn’t plan on offering bug support to a game made in like... 2009

This doesn’t matter! Look at how great his kingdom is doing- oh no his hero has the plague-

He plays through the Pirates and Nobles expansion and manages to get the peaceful ending, he’s so proud of himself.

“MC! Look! My Monarch’s sword is permanently on fire and I’m fighting an evil wizard!”

When he does play the other Sims games he’s pretty basic, though, he does a great job at furnishing!

Dia gets crazy sad when his Sims die... he turns off aging.

Builder no. 2 (Barbatos)

Barbie doesn’t have time for this... but when he does, he builds.

No create a sim.

No playing the game as intended.

Just builds.

It’s relaxing, okay? A nice little suburban house he’s never going to play in, maybe a treehouse, maybe a big Hollywood Mansion...

The only time he actually plays the game outside of build mode is when someone needs his help to fix something in-game.

He does download custom content build items if he feels bored by the current selection.

Oh Crap What Am I Doing?! (Simeon)

Help him. Please.

He’s so confused.

“Luke, why is my sim upset?” “He’s hungry, Simeon.” “Oh, how do I fix that?” “...Simeon-”

There’s a toilet in the middle of the living room.

The fridge is facing the wall.

There’s no bathtub or shower.

The house is on fire- there is no god- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

Okay, once he gets the hang of it he’s sitting pretty. His sims have good jobs, the kids are getting good grades, everything’s fine.

...

But Simeon won’t forget the nightmares.

What Even is This Save? (Solomon)

Solomon’s save is the definition of chaos.

One sim’s a vampire, the other is a spellcaster that really wants to fight the Callientes for some reason, there’s one normal sim that’s always sick for some reason,

It gets weird, confusing, and horrible.

Just how Solomon likes it.

His house makes no sense, like, what even is architecture?

Money cheats are needed because Solomon‘a goal of chaos and confusion is proving to be kind of expensive.

Square up Mortimer Goth, Solomon’s sims are here to steal your weird knight statue that’s worth a shit ton of simoleons for NO REASON.

He joined the scientist career for the sole purpose of getting to the alien planet and kidnapping adding an alien to the household via cheats.

The vampire ended up dying on their wedding day because Solomon forgot that he gave them the sun weakness.

Oh well, the ghost got added to the household! VAMPIRE GHOST!

The Child (Luke)

Before you say Luke’s too young to play the Sims, you should know that I was nine when I first started playing, and I turned out fiiiiiiiiiine.

He’s just happy to be playing.

Look, his sims are gardening :D

Look, two of them are getting married :D

Look, they had a baby :D

Look, his sims are building a rocket ship :D

Look, his sims’s rocket just crashed-

The concept of death hit the little angel right in the face that day.

“*sniffle*... my sims...”

Don’t worry, with tears in his eyes, Luke quit without saving and everything was fine!

Speaking of My Sims, Luke played MySims Sky Heroes and that was when Luke had his first bout of gamer rage.

MC came over to hang out with Solomon and Simeon, and in the distance they could just hear:

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY TIME WASN’T FAST ENOUGH TO CONTINUE THE STORY!? I’LL SHOW YOU FAST ENOUGH TIME!”

Okay, maybe Simeon should take the game away... just for a bit... he should take heed not to be bitten by the incredibly angry chihuahua.

Bonus:

MC: Why are our Sims married?

*Insert Boy Here*: Uh... that’s weird... I have no clue why they’re doing that...

[tweetracer]

Hi! I love your writing, and completely understand if you don't feel like writing this. Could you do something where the reader loves Halloween and dresses up as a vampire as a joke to surprise the boys at the boardwalk or at a Halloween party in the cave. You can decide what to do with the story, I just thought that would be cute.

LOST BOYS  x  S/O HALLOWEEN COSTUME

DAVID

When you jumped out from behind a display at Max’s video store, fully decked out in a Dracula-esque cape and plastic fangs, David thought it was the cutest thing in the entire world.

Not like he’d ever tell you that, though.

He only rolled his eyes, trying to hide the little pull of a smile on his lips by pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a long-suffering sigh.

“This is borderline offensive, kitten”

Despite all his fussing he still stuck his arm out to you, pressing a kiss to your temple and letting you lead him around towards the various attractions and food stalls- all decorated for Halloween.

The whole night he was staring at you, expression turning exasperated anytime you made eye contact while he scrambled to cover up the adoration in his gaze.

When you’d finally dragged him up into the ferris wheel (”Kitten I can fly. This is like going paragliding with a pigeon”) he quieted down, opting to lean back into his seat and watch you watch the crowd below.

That stupid cape hung loose off your shoulders, the faux fangs long since abandoned after getting stuck in a candy apple. Your hair was a tangled mess from all the rides and the festival lights cast a halo around you.

God he was whipped.

Just as the little cart you were in came to a rocking halt at the top of the wheel he extended his hand to you, pulling you close and pressing an unusually tender kiss to your lips. His hands held either side of your face, foreheads together as he pulled back to look at you, gaze soft before a mischievous grin pulled at his lips.

“You know, kitten. If you really wanted to be a vampire all ‘ya had to do was ask”

PAUL

"Doll you should totally be a vamp for Halloween”

When Paul had suggested it and offered to buy steal a costume for you, you were all too happy to have someone equally willing to have fun on your favorite holiday.

And the fact that you were going as a vampire-  with an actual vampire? So cool- the coolest. It was going to be a hilarious inside joke for just the two of you (and also the other vamps of course.. and also probably the Frog Brothers).

When Paul strolled up ten minutes before you needed to meet the other boys at the boardwalk with something that could only loosely be called clothing, let alone a costume, you were disappointed but not surprised.

The skimpy leather shorts, the straps along the chest and the despicably studded ‘cape’ combined with a set of fake plastic fangs read less as ‘vampire’ and more ‘vampire-themed lingerie’.

You stared, slack-jawed at the revealing outfit, not entirely sure if Paul’s insistence of “Babydoll you’re gonna look so good in this-” was actually encouraging you or not. Short on time and low on shame (after all, it was Halloween- most people are going to be either too wasted to notice or wearing even less than you) you quickly geared up.

Paul was all wolf-whistles and flirty pick-up line, his hand inching just a bit too high remain PG before you’d swat it away.

When you finally arrived at the boardwalk Paul’s mood quickly went downhill.

Like.... he knew people were going to look at you- after all you were totally smokin’ in that vampire getup. But... well he didn’t expect so many people to actually have the balls to come up and flirt with you. Especially when he was right there.

The whole night he was snappy and frustrated, progressing from just wrapping his arm around your waist to practically hanging off of you while the two of you listened to the loud music from the Halloween concert.

Finally he’d had it when some dude in a shitty store-bought wolfman mask groped your ass.

Paul went full vamp, snarling and growling as he decked the guy in the face, picked you up like you weighed nothing, and climbed up and over the crowd- charging till the two of you were alone at the beach.

He was still growling and clung to you like a lifeline while you tried not to laugh, burrowing his still vamped-out face against your neck and mumbling bitterly.

You rolled your eyes and let yourself be held, running your hands through his hair and pressing chaste kisses to his cheek when he finally sat back- giving his face a little squeeze.

“You wanna go home?” you offered gently, letting him run a hand down your back- feeling his calloused palm stop at the hem of those obscenely short shorts.

His gaze went from pouting to mischievous when he glanced up at you, all fangs and yellow eyes. You could see something formulating in his mind when he finally spoke up.

“Hey babe”

“Yeah?”

“You make a fang-tastic vampire”

DWAYNE

Dwayne stared at you for about twenty seconds, expression impossible to read before he covers his face with his hands, the tiniest hint of redness creeping up on his cheeks behind his fingers.

You laughed as he stood there, having a genuine conniption because oh god this is so adorable, before finally threading your arm through his and dragging him off to wander around the boardwalk.

Your nights were usually a balance of silence and conversation, easily drifting between enjoying each other’s company to chatting about whatever came to mind. Tonight, however, he was almost dead silent- following behind you while he held your hand, giving that tiny little smile that he only shared with you as you bounced from one carnival game to another. 

The two of you wandered around the boardwalk, toting an absurd amount of stuffed toys from the games all the while still squeezing Dwayne’s hand as he followed behind you.

With the concert’s blaring music in the distant background he watched as you hung on the edge of the railing, cape falling around your shoulders as you peered down below at the slowly rising tide.

Gripped with emotion he wrapped his arms around your waist, squeezing you into his chest till you turned and he could press a tender kiss to your lips.

He picked you up, grabbing the back of your thighs to wrap around his hips and holding you as tightly as he could. With a step, Dwayne floated up to stand with impossibly skilled balance on the rickety arm rail. His laugh was low and rumbling where you were pressed against his chest. 

You held on tighter to him as he fell forwards, the two of you dangling upside-down on the bottom of the boardwalk and the ends of your cape getting wet from the gently churning water below.

Despite your slight dizziness you laughed, pressing your face against his chest and holding on for dear life even though you knew he’d never drop you.

Hanging here, wrapped in his arms and feeling the occasional ocean spray on your cheeks was better than any ride.

MARKO

Marko was a whirlwind of energy on a normal day- but on Halloween? The coolest holiday of the year? Where he could wander around fully vamped out and not have a single person look at him weird?

He was unstoppable.

The two of you were dressed to the nines in ‘classic vampire’ costumes, Marko’s bright leather jacket and boots exchanged for a truly dashing three-piece suit with a long sleek black cape and his wild mane of curls braided elegantly along his back.

Frankly? He looked hot as hell. And he seemed to share the opinion, the whole night he had an arm around your waist- baring fangs at anyone who got a little too close or stared a little too long. You two were the power couple of the boardwalk.

Brain addled with the adrenaline of walking around vamped-out and an obscene amount of sugary candy, Marko was practically bouncing off the walls.

He dragged you towards every ride and event, hollering at the top of his lungs and swinging you into the air if you were going to slow- laughing how you’d yelp and scream every time.

Things were going great until some guy in a Robin Hood outfit tried to get a little handsy with you- a palm inching up against the bare skin of your back as attempted to corral you away from the contortionist you were watching.

One second Mr. Robin Hood was on his feet attempting to pull you away from the crowd and the next thing you knew he was on the floor, jaw almost certainly broken with Marko standing over him, blonde hair coming loose from its braid to fan out around him dramatically.

The scary music, the sharp fangs, the long cape billowing in that Santa Carla breeze.... Marko looked like a vision of death as he snarled, eyes yellow and fist raising to give another hard blow to the man’s face.

While you would’ve been content to watch your Gorgeous Boyfriend rip this guy a new one, the sound of police sirens getting closer told you it was time to get going.

“Let’s dash, babe” Marko’s voice was a low breathy rumble. He grabbed you by the hand and charged back towards his bike, leaving the chaos behind as you laughed your asses off.

The two of you collapsed on the sands of the beach, laying side by side and laughing at the full moon- tears streaming down your cheeks as the height of the moment began to fade.

Your silly cape was scrunched beneath you and you could feel sand start to slip into your boots and under your shirt.

The moment was perfect.

A gloved hand slipped into yours and you felt Marko scoot closer, flipping onto his stomach to watch you through lidded eyes.

When you turned to look at him a red blush was patched across his face, his lips were open as he watched you, moving slow to lean in and kiss your cheek, hovering there a moment before he began peppering your face in soft kisses.

When he finally kissed you on the lips you swore there were fireworks going off behind your eyes. His lips were chapped and soft, the hand that ran delicately over your cheek was cool to the touch as he pressed himself impossibly closer to you.

He tasted like sugar.

When he pulled back he was still staring at you with that pure, unadulterated adoration that made your face go red and your heart do that silly little flip-flop.

Reveling in your embarrassment, he pressed another series of soft kisses down your chin, giving your collar bone a rough bite that made you gasp in surprise, your hand flying up to rest on his chest.

You could feel his pleased hum vibrate against your neck when he mumbled out a sultry

“Trick or treat...”

[archduchessofnowhere]

The other day I had an ask about Sophie's marriage to Ferdinand d'Orléans. In the answer I quoted a fragment of an account of the wedding by Prince Hohenlohe-Schilling, which in turn was quoted in Erika Bestenreiner's book about Elisabeth and her siblings. Well I should have digged a bit deeper because it turns out that the Prince's memoirs from which said quote comes from had been translated to English, so we actually have his full account of the celebrations. You can read the whole thing here, which includes tons of biased descriptions of several of the royal guests, but also really bad smell in your guest room, someone looking at you like if you were a scorpion and a mediocre perfomance of one of Verdi's operas during Mass.

STARNBERG, September 28, 1868.

In obedience to the Royal command I came to this place to attend, as Minister of the Household, the marriage of the Duchess Sophie with the Duc d'Alençon, son of the Duc de Nemours. Prince Adalbert and Minister Pfretzschner were appointed to act as witnesses. As the latter preferred to spend the night at Starnberg, I decided to leave yesterday afternoon at half-past two. We arrived at four o'clock, took possession of our rooms at the Hotel am See, and then took a walk, dined at five o'clock and then went down again to the shore of the lake in hopes of seeing something of the illuminations which were to take place nominally in honour of the Czarina of Russia then staying at Berg. But it was nine o'clock, and as nothing happened we preferred not to wait about any longer, and soon got to bed. The fireworks and illuminations would seem to have been very fine, but very little could be seen here. It was Sunday, and consequently a numerous and beery contingent of the general public had taken post under our windows, and kept up a horrible din and shouting. At intervals they sang ''popular airs," but these almost immediately degenerated into mere brutish yells. However, I soon fell asleep, especially as a wholesome storm of rain dispersed the gang. This morning I went to the railway station to see the Empress of Russia depart. Tauffkirchen* was there too, to pay his respects to the Empress. The King accompanied the Empress and travelled some distance with her on the railway in the direction of Munich, but I do not know how far.

At ten we drove over to Possenhofen in my carriage, which I had had brought here yesterday. It was not eleven o'clock yet, so we were taken first to our rooms. In mine there was a villainous bad smell. Soon the time for the wedding ceremony arrived, which took place in a hall of the Castle transformed into a chapel. The guests assembled in the adjoining salon, where a grand piano further blocked the scanty space available. Pfretzschner and I hastened to get ourselves presented to all personages of rank. Besides the family of the Duke Max, Prince Adalbert and Prince Karl were there. The latter bowed to me across the room with a look such as one generally bestows upon a scorpion. Then Count and Countess Trani. The Hereditary Princess Taxis wore a mauve or violet dress trimmed with white. Others present were the Comte de Paris and his brother, the Duc de Chartres, two young and well-built princes, but who give the impression rather of Prussian than of French princes. The Duc de Nemours looked like a French dandy from the Cercle de l'Union. He wore the Order of St. Hubert, as did his son, the bridegroom. The Duc de Nemours recalls the portraits of Henri IV., yet he has a certain look of his own that makes you set him down as a pedant. The young Duc d'Alençon is a handsome young man of a fresh countenance. The Prince de Joinville and his son, the Duc de Penthièvre, have nothing very striking about them. The former is old-looking and bent, too old-looking for his age, dignified and courtly. The Duc de Penthièvre has a yellow, rather Jewish face, and speaks with a drawl, but was very kind and friendly to me. Duke August of Coburg is as tedious as ever. I was interested to become acquainted with his wife, the Princess Clementine, a clever, lively woman. The Princess Joinville, a Brazilian Princess, is rather mummified, with big rolling eyes in a long, pale, wrinkled face. Then there were two daughters of Nemours there too, one grown up, the other a little girl. The ladies were all in "high dresses." The bride in white silk, trimmed with orange blossom, with head-dress of orange blossom and a tulle veil. On the sleeves braids of satin, after the pattern of the Lifeguardsmen's stripes. A lady-in-waiting attached to the Nemours party wore a flame-coloured silk with straw-coloured trimmings. When all were assembled, we proceeded to the chapel. The bridal couple knelt before the altar. Behind them, on the left, Prince Adalbert, behind him we two Ministers, and then behind us the gentlemen of the House of Orleans. On the other side the Duc de Nemours and the Duchess, likewise all the Princesses. Hancberg began the ceremony with a suitable address. Nobody cried, but Duke Max looked rather like it once or twice. The bride appeared extremely self-possessed. Before the "affirmation" the bridegroom first made a bow to his father, and the bride did the same to her parents. The Duchess's "Yes" sounded very much as if she meant "Yes, for my own part," or "For aught I care." I don't wish to be spiteful, but it sounded like that to me. After the wedding, I kissed the Duchess's hand, and congratulated her. She seemed highly gratified and pleased. The pause between the wedding ceremony and the State dinner we spent in our room. I forgot, by-the-by, to say that during the Mass a military band played an accompaniment to the religious ceremony. It began with the overture to one of Verdi's operas, I don't know whether it was Traviata or Trovatore. It was but a mediocre performance, the sort of stuff you hear played at dinners.

The State dinner was held downstairs in two halls. In one sat all Royal personages and myself along with Pfretzchner, in the other the courtiers. The health of the bridal pair was drunk without speechmaking. I sat between the young Princess of Coburg and Duke Ludwig. The dinner was not particularly long, nor was it particularly good either. On rising from table there was some more standing about, and then all the company separated. The Orleans Princes took their departure at once, about half-past four, as did the other Princes. Only the Duc de Nemours stays on till the day after tomorrow with his children.

We drove back to Starnberg in one of the Ducal carriages, from whence we return to-day to Munich by the eight o'clock train.

At dinner the "Wedding Chorus" from Lohengrin was played. It must have been singularly agreeable to the King's ex-fiancée. Another odd coincidence was that the very evening before, the lake and mountains were illuminated (for the Czarina), and the King had to celebrate in this way his erstwhile fiancée's bridal eve.

The Comte de Paris spoke to me about war and peace, and maintains that popular feeling in France is opposed to war. But he said it was difficult to gauge public opinion in France, the Press is so wanting in independence.

He is a sensible, well-meaning man, who would make an excellent Constitutional King of France.

*Count Tauffkirchen was at that time Bavarian Minister at St Petersburg.

[kazledazzel]

“Are you ready?” - Kitty (ask from @lucian-evander)

It was Rafael Lightwood Bane’s birthday, and Ty couldn’t understand why he was so nervous. He had done all he could to prepare. He had double checked everything. Nothing could have gone wrong. Tavvy, who was now nine years old and apparently responsible, had been given the task of making sure they remembered the present and card. Dru had written the card, making sure to include all their names (Ty, Dru and Tavvy) and had wrapped the present with coloured wrapping paper. Jules and Emma would be bringing a separate present, as would Helen, Aline, and baby Andrea. Ty was dressed in what seemed to be a suitable outfit; not too casual but no more formal than needed for a seven year olds birthday. Still, the root of his nerves was not something that could be fixed with good preparation. It still didn’t change the fact that he would be there.

Christopher Herondale would always be Kit to Ty Blackthorn. The two had built an unlikely friendship years ago, and for the first time since Ty had tried to raise Livvy and Kit had disappeared to England. The time in between had been like a limbo of going from weeks of not talking to long detailed letters. It took months for them to even send a postcard. It wasn't until Livvy had insisted Ty write Kit that they'd had any form of communication. At the time, Tiberius hadn't even know what he'd say to Kit. "Hello, I know we haven't spoken since I attempted necromancy and you confessed your love for me, but how's England? What's the weather like? Oh, by the way, I think I might love you back, but how are your parents?"

"It will be fine, Ty-Ty," Livvy said reassuringly as the Blackthorns recovered from the rush that came with portal travel and walked up the steps to Magnus and Alec’s loft. Even as a ghost, she could read Ty’s emotions without failure. She walked alongside Ty, though he was the only one that could see her. She seemed to float beside him, looking eerily beautiful in her white dress. She still looked fifteen, though if she hadn’t died she’d be seventeen. Ty would have been taller than her, except ghost Livvy found it funny to float just a few inches taller than him.

Ty didn’t reply to Livvy. The rest of his family couldn’t see her, and he wasn’t in the mood to alarm them. Tavvy skipped up the steps happily between Emma and Julian, looking smug with the present in his hands. Dru held back a little to stay beside Ty. Helen and Aline were still downstairs and in the process of calming their baby girl. Andrea, at nine months old, was not a fan of portal travel.

Magnus opened the door before the family even knocked. He beamed at them, playing the role of the party host very well. Ty hadn’t been surprised to hear that Magnus was throwing a birthday extravaganza for his seven year old. He had once heard a story of Magnus throwing a party for his cat, so one hoped that he loved his son as much.

It seemed he did, because as soon as he greeted the family he turned so that Ty could see the inside of the apartment. It looked as though a toy store had exploded inside of Magnus’ apartment. The ceiling had been magically raised so that a trampoline could fit inside, and Ty could have sworn he saw Isabelle Lightwood helping Max Lightwood Bane onto a pony.

Emma made a beeline for Jem and Mina while Tavvy raced to find the birthday boy.

“Don’t eat all of the chocolate or you’ll be sick!” Julian called, but Ty wasn’t sure if his call was directed at Emma or Tavvy. Dru entered the party and immediately found Kieran and Mark. Ty held back and Julian, being Julian, noticed.

“It’s okay, Ty,” Julian murmured so that none of the party guests would hear. Ty had told Julian about Kit eventually, and Jules had been more understanding that Ty had ever thought. Who knew Julian knew anything about love? “If it makes you feel any better, you don’t have to talk to him. I’m sure he’ll manage to keep occupied,”

“No, it’s okay,” Ty replied, shaking his head. He wanted to talk to Kit, no matter how much it scared him. He needed to talk to him after so long. He needed to know that there was still hope for them to have some sort of relationship, have it be romantic or simply as penpals. He just knew that his life was better with Kit in it. “I want to talk to him,”

Julian smiled. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,”

They entered the party.

It wasn’t like in the mundane movies, when the whole world seemed to go into slow-motion as the two love interests re-united after so long apart. In fact, it took Ty a minute or so to even spot Kit in the crowd of people. When he did, Kit wasn’t even looking at him.

Ty spotted him, standing by the snacks table and talking to Jace. Ty’s mouth went try, and for a moment Ty couldn’t remember a single word in the English language. Kit was laughing, his blue eyes like the pacific ocean. His hair was gold and he had somehow maintained a tan despite living in England. To Ty’s surprise, he was nearly as tall as Jace. He had gotten more muscular too, and there were marks on his arms.

Huh, Ty thought. So Watson decided to become a shadowhunter afterall.

Then they made eye contact, and Ty was pretty sure fireworks went off from inside him.

Jace was looking in between the two. He glanced at Kit, then at Ty, then back and forth a few times as if he were double checking what he was seeing. Then he smirked, whispered soemthing to Kit, and left to talk to his Parabatai. Kit was blushing.

Ty took a deep breath. He was going to be the one to make the first move. He walked over to Kit, overthinking every step, and stopped in front of him.

“Hi,” Ty said, trying to keep his voice from jumping up an octave. That was always a good place to start. Kit was looking at him as if his hair was on fire. Ty wondered if he’d ever say hello back.

“Hey,” Kit replied, and his obvious attempt to be cool could have made Ty laugh. It didn’t help that Livvy was floating behind Kit, giving Ty a grin and a thumbs up.

“Look Ty, I-,”

“You don’t have to apologise, Watson,” Ty interrupted. Then he realised he’d slipped up. He quickly worried that Kit wouldn’t appreciate Ty using his old nickname, or if he’d even remember their inside jokes. Then Kit gave a smile. It was a little weary and a slightly confused smile, but it was still a smile that gave Ty butterflies not in his hands but in his heart.

“I think I need to,” Kit said softly. Ty wasn’t the biggest lover of physical affection, but at that moment he would have loved to have reached out to Kit and put his arms around him. Out of respect for Kit’s comfort and personal space, he controlled himself and stayed put.

“No, Kit, really,” Ty insisted. “I get why you left. Everything with Livvy, and- I think I understand now,”

“That’s not what I need to apologise for,” Kit continued. Ty frowned a little. From behind Kit, Livvy was doing a poor job at pretending she wasn’t listening. “I- I said that I wished I’d never known you. That’s not true-,”

“Kit honestly it’s fine-,”

“No Ty, it’s not,” Kit’s voice was low. It was lower in a serious way, making Ty a little nervous. “Knowing you... I’m glad I know you, Tiberius Blackthorn,”

“Kit..,” Ty started, but the words died in his mouth. The he heard Magnus start to call everyone to gather around for the cake, and he panicked, worrying his chance to talk to Kit would be gone. Kit started to turn away.

Screw it, Ty thought. He took Kit’s wrist and turned him back around. No one would be watching; they would all be too distracted with singing happy birthday to Rafe.

Kit turned around and he and Ty collided. Ty had pulled him back around with the intention of speaking to him, but this was okay too.

There was only an inch or so height difference between them, and Ty was now discovering that this was the perfect height for kissing. They seemed to fit with each other in a way Ty didn’t know possible. He had seen how Helen and Aline were with each other, and Emma and Julian. He saw how in love they were and how the seemed so smitten for one another. He had wondered what that had felt like. He never imagined wanting to kiss someone. It had never been an urge. Not until now.

Luckily, Kit didn’t pull away. He kissed back with just as much power, making Ty shiver. What could have been a millisecond or a decade later, they pulled apart. Kit’s lips were as red as his cheeks.

“Ty-,”

“Does this mean we can still talk?” Ty blurted out, so quickly he was surprised that Kit understood. “I don’t ever want to not be talking again,”

Kit made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a breathe of relief.

“Oh, Sherlock,” he said, smirking like a true Herondale. “We are never not talking again,”

[bananaofswifts]

“I just need to make a better record. I’m making a better record.” That’s what Taylor Swift said with striking calm in one of the most memorable clips from her Netflix documentary, Miss Americana, after finding out that her 2017 album, reputation, had been shut out of the 2018 Grammys’ Big Four categories.

Her next release, Lover, didn’t quite live up to Swift’s ambitions, at least on the awards front: In 2019, its only major Grammy nod was for song of the year, for the title track. But now, thanks to her record-breaking, surprise (and surprising) pandemic release, folklore, she may have made a record that’s “better” in the eyes of voters. Swift’s only album to spend its first four weeks at No. 1 on the Billboard 200, folklore pushes her songwriting into new territory, trading stadium-pop sheen for the subtle, layered production of prestige indie-rock, thanks in part to an unlikely collaborator: The National’s Aaron Dessner.

Dessner, 44, has been making music for over two decades, collaborating with everyone from close friends like Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon — with whom he co-founded the band Big Red Machine and more recently the independent label 37d03d, a partnership with Secretly Group — to Mumford & Sons and world-class orchestras. With nine co-writes and 11 production credits (some of which he shares with Jack Antonoff), folklore is Dessner’s most high-profile project yet and could well get him a producer of the year nomination. (He previously won a Grammy for best alternative music album with The National at the 2018 ceremony.)

‘’Jack and I thought this would be a record we loved but had no expectations commercially,” says Dessner. “So the fact that it’s this weird smash — of course it would be amazing to win or be nominated. But it’s not on my list of things I feel that I need to accomplish in life. I really couldn’t be more proud of folklore. And also just like, ‘What the fuck, how did this happen?’”

You’ve said the best musical experiences you’ve had have come from moments of spontaneity. How does that apply to folklore?

It’s exactly that. I feel like I would not have been able to go toe-to-toe with Taylor in the way that I did if I hadn’t done everything else that I’d ever done. To me, making songs with your friends in some basement 20 years ago or producing records for totally unknown artists is just as important as when you end up, by some weird stroke of serendipity, in a crazy collaboration with someone who is so gifted. I had really run the gantlet of so many experiences that I was in a spot where when she came, there were fireworks, musically, between us. And we had the work ethic to see it through.

Once she reached out to you, how did you prepare to work with Swift?

Well, I’ve definitely listened to all her records — I do that from time to time, just binge-listen to certain things — and I could tell she’s a savant. She’s such a performer, but so gifted as a writer. She told me upfront: “Don’t try to be anyone other than yourself,” because she was really gravitating toward the emotion in the music. She didn’t want me to try and be Max Martin or Jack Antonoff. I didn’t go obsess over “Shake It Off” or something. I had a lot of music that I’d been writing when she approached me, and I just sent a folder because she asked. Hours later, [she sent back] “Cardigan.” It was an unusual vein that we struck.

Was there any material of your own that you didn’t want to offer up just yet?

Definitely. It was more that there were some songs that are specifically one thing or another. The Big Red Machine stuff is quite far along — and actually, Taylor has been amazing [at giving feedback]. I’ve shared all of that stuff with her, and she has been really helpful.

Does that mean we will we hear her on a Big Red Machine track in some form?

[Laughs] I can’t really say, so I guess I’ll say neither yes nor no.

How does a massive pop star releasing what feels like an indie folk album allow other artists to feel less confined by genre?

Taylor has opened the door for artists to not feel pressure to have “the bop.” To make the record that she made, while running against what is programmed in radio at the highest levels of pop music — she has kind of made an anti-pop record. And to have it be one of the most, if not the most, successful commercial releases of the year, that throws the playbook out. I hope it gives other artists, especially lesser-known or more independent artists, a chance at the mainstream. Maybe radio will realize that music doesn’t have to sound as pushed as it has. Nobody was trying to design anything to be a hit. Obviously Taylor has the privilege of already having a very large and dedicated audience, but I do feel like it’s having a resonance beyond that.

Music is already moving in that direction with artists like Billie Eilish. Why did that approach appeal to Swift?

I think for people to hear what she’s capable of. That song “peace” — when she wrote that, it was just a harmonized bass and a pulse. She wrote this incredible love song to it that’s one vocal take. I definitely felt like I was exposed to a truly great artist in that moment, just to see her to carve into this sketch in a substantive way. Billie Eilish is a great point: There are people who are pushing the boundaries of what is and isn’t popular or mainstream music. To have been part of it and see it actually happen, I almost felt like, “Is it really going to come out? Is somebody going to come tell us that we’re ridiculous?”

Was there any anxiety over fan and media reactions eclipsing the work itself?

I had moments of self doubt, for sure, but I think that’s part of Taylor’s brilliance and kind-heartedness is to make me and others around her feel confident. She repeatedly would say, “There’s no hierarchy. This is as special and great as anything I’ve done before, if not greater, so don’t worry.” She has dealt with so much spotlight in her life, too much probably, so she knows better than anyone the kind of whims of the zeitgeist, so she was leading in that sense. We were on the phone when it came out, and it was a really special experience… We were just on the phone as people around the world were listening and reviews were coming in and the truth is, it went so well, that I have never thought about it again. It could have been the opposite.

In 2016, you and your brother Bryce, Justin Vernon and others launched a week-long Berlin residency called People that evolved into an online community for artists to self-publish work in real time. What’s the status of that platform now?

At some point People magazine told us that they own the word people in any media context, so we changed it to 37d03d, which is people upside down spelled with numbers and letters. We decided to start a proper record label in partnership with Secretly Group, and we put out as much music as we possibly can with the idea that — and this is very much a part of folklore — eventually there’s a large community of people feeding into the music and making it as great as it can be. [We’re] trying to create a label that really embraces that, and where decisions aren’t commercially driven. If somebody comes to us with this crazy noise record, we’re as interested in that as hit songs on some other record.

You and Swift made folklore without ever being in the same room. How do you see the pandemic changing the music industry?

I do think the way that we’ve had to embrace collaborating remotely and being open to it is a powerful thing. Everything is on pause, and everyone is listening in a different way. I’d like to believe that this is a chance for some shifts to happen.

[askmicrowavegaster]

Microwave grapes ending summary

Gaster does jump down the elevator shaft, and uses his magic to craft bones as steps to slow his descent, and finally rip through the elevator at a basement level, far below where the elevator usually goes. Beneath Fig’s arboreum and everything. 

And he does find sans, but more importantly-- 

He finds Ursama and Serptrine’s assistants looking over another skeleton, a little bit taller than Sans, and hidden away in a separate room. He doesn’t have Sans’ odd bone deformity from the DT overdose, but almost looks the same age all the same. 

Ursama demands to know what is going on that Gaster burst down like this, clearly destroying the elevator and definitely committing a crime in doing so if nothing else, on top of his kidnapping charges. 

Gaster is going to uh. Take those kidnapping charges again. He walls up the room with bones and grabs Sans to run--and Sans talks to the other little skeleton, who todders over, and holds on, too. 

Unfortunately, Gaster has only really one place to go, and that is back to his apartment. Which he does. And then barricades the door. And then shouts across the wall to Po-Yo that he needs someone to deliver a letter for him. Po-Yo gets a carrier (from chapter 6, Ava) and Gaster slides the message he needs delivered and the handful of gold pieces under the door. 

The letter is addressed to Asgore. 

Gaster never thought he would want to call the attention of an old monster down on himself, but right now, he’s the only one higher ranked than Serptrine that Gaster can think of who might object to the discovery of creating child monsters for warfare. 

In the meantime, Gaster barricades his wall and sets the kids up in the back room of his house and tells Sans to tell-- the boy’s designation is ‘PS-1’ (Prototype Skeleton 1) rather than ‘CS-1’ (Control Skeleton 1)-- to hide if anyone other than he comes in. 

But PS-1 seems to understand his speech just fine. And he doesn’t know what to make of that, except that someone has been teaching PS-1 the same way he taught CS-1. 

He makes them tea, and ignores anyone pounding on his door, and hopes no one pulls out magic or the royal guard. But the pounding on the door stops, and he isn’t sure how much time passes, but there’s not quite enough food in his apartment for three people. There was hardly enough for one. 

He doesn’t want to leave his apartment and come back to find both skeletons gone. 

He tries to pass the time by talking to them and figuring out what was going on. And this is what he learns: 

PS-1 has been outside of the building before. PS-1 knows how to summon his magic. PS-1 has a rotating series of caretakers. PS-1 has seen Sans before. 

PS-1 has a LV of 7. 

Gaster dreams about murder. 

Eventually through a lot of hand gestures and struggling conversation, he starts making a plausible scenario: 

Sans has been taken from his room at night periodically. This is probably where PS-1 met him and they had a ‘comparison’ between the control subject (Sans, who is not being pushed to learn much or learn an agenda) and variable subject (PS-1, who is being trained very specifically towards a goal.) The mistakes and ‘mistakes’ Gaster makes with Sans are corrected with PS-1 and it’s led to a very strong, dangerous, and unhappy toddler in his apartment, and that toddler is getting very hungry. 

The good news is that PS-1 seems to like Sans and will calm down when comforted. The bad news is that while Papyrus (Sans named him) doesn’t seem interested in ‘rebelling’ by attacking his new ‘handler,’ that doesn’t extend to furious pouting tantrums, fits, and crying. 

At some point, Papyrus summons the biggest attack he has— a strange, toothy skull sort of thing. It might’ve been dog-ish if not for the horns. 

Gaster recognizes someone trying to copy his dragon skull design and has to retreat for… a while. It’s sort of like setting off a firework show at a wake, maybe a ‘celebrating of life’ if you were being optimistic, and then turning around and finding your fireworks being pointed at people.

After a long while of hiding where Gaster can start to feel exhaustion weighing on him and is certain the low-magic meals are really starting to affect the kids, too, there’s a knock on the door and a familiar voice coming through.

Choris is a cat monster with a messed up ear and bad personality, but he grew up under Gaster’s parents and they went through college together. It is not an affectionate relationship by a stretch, but jealousy doesn’t mean you want them to fail, and so they’ve kicked each others’ asses through things a handful of times.

Today, Choris has shown up to say things like ‘I bet you haven’t been outside this whole time’ and ‘do you even have food in there? I bet you don’t. You haven’t even checked your mail. Get your shit together.’

Then the mail is shoved under Gaster’s doorway and the thump of several bags of groceries is heard outside the door. Once the footsteps are gone, Gaster reaches out to grab the food and hurriedly makes the kids a meal before checking the mail. 

One of them is a response from the king, alerting him to an investigation and for his testimony to show up at x day. Which is almost immediately. Tomorrow, or in nine hours, even. People probably would’ve shown up to his house and broken in if he didn’t show up, holy shit, he would’ve died (but only emotionally, not literally.) 

The idea of showing up in front of a Fucking Boss Monster is absolutely psyching his little traumatized brain out, but he has already kidnapped like two people barricaded himself in an apartment building for several days, so he doesn’t really have any room to say he’s paralyzed by nerves.

Still paranoid that someone is going to come swipe them when he’s not looking, Gaster gets Sans’ crutches and tells him he’s in charge of Keeping Papyrus Chill, and takes them with him (in a backpack for transport) to the castle for a Fucking Hearing. 

(Once they’re there, they get out of the backpack, but he is extremely not interested in people spotting them on the street and asking questions, because he has absolutely no doubt that someone has gossiped this all the way back to Snowdin by now. )

Serptrine and, unfortunately, Ursama are there as the ‘hey we need to break the barrier’ team, and Gaster shows up with two skeletons half his height wearing stripes, holding onto both his leg and each other. 

It’s pretty obvious who Asgore sides with. Everyone knows the moment he looks over at the kids. 

That doesn’t mean everyone is happy. Serptrine is removed from his post as head scientist, the position is suspended, and Ursama is on leave for a bit, or at the very least is no longer Gaster’s direct superior. They also forget to really give him a new superior. Or if someone is assigned, they aren’t claiming him, and when he’s told to return to the lab for regular work, he finds no one is really looking at him or minding him much at all. People he casually spoke to seem to acknowledge him a bit, but that’s about all. 

Whether they thought he was in the right to kidnap Sans and Papyrus or not, a lot of people also now view him as The Guy Who Stole Our Best Chance at the Surface. 

Yes, humans are falling down, but it’s… taking a long time. And then people are in danger and killed each time. And they’re still relying on the strength of humans when they use that captured power. And what about when they get to the surface, and then there are still humans out there to deal with? 

If they’d just Had Someone Who Could Handle the Barrier and the Humans Beyond It…

Haven’t you ever heard of the needs of the many? If five children die to save a city, how is that the wrong choice?

It’s easy to dream big about a project that barely got off the ground, but seemed to have some promise—especially if one of the experiments was successful and managed to end the last human’s rampage. 

...but Gaster has a child at home who has just learned about jigsaw puzzles, and who takes the newspaper from him to do the word searches and junior jumbles in pen. 

Then again, Gaster has an advantage in being kind, here. He’s never believed they would make it to the surface again, anyway.

++ 

As Gaster raises the two and deals with ostracization at work (which started out as just spite, but then was picked up as a hint by others, and has grown into a Habit) he uses the lack of oversight to start building small CORE experiments. 

He’s doing his best with the CORE but still works a lot on it at home, which Sans watches him do when he’s not watching over Papyrus. 

Because that is unfortunately quickly becoming Sans’ job. He’s still pretty young and needs crutches to stay upright for long stretches of time, but Papyrus has proven to be A Little Troubled, especially since he started talking more. 

He’s fond of fighting, which is normal for a monster child, but he’s actually fighting with intent to harm, because that’s what fighting has been for him this whole time, and at LV 7 it’s very difficult to break that sort of habit. You can think of LV as a disability almost— it makes it more difficult to move through life, as you’re on constant “when all you have is a hammer” mode. They had a fun incident where upon getting very frustrated with a puzzle, Papyrus summoned bones from the floor and one of them happened to have Moderate Contact with Sans’ knee. 

Sans ultimately has a monster version of hemophilia—a small cut can still cause him to bleed out. This eventually affects his magic to create KARMA, where his max ATK being small still bleeds out a little bit longer than would otherwise be expected. 

It is still a very frantic and uncomfortable trip to a healer, where Papyrus ends up left alone in the house because Gaster didn’t know what to do when you had two kids, and one needed the healer, and the other had caused the wound. 

Papyrus has been extremely careful about injuring Sans since then, and they’ve gotten him to somewhat release his pent up energy by doing ‘trick shots’ with his magic. Spelling things with his bones, biggest and smallest bones you can possibly make, haha hey kids what about bones that go backwards? 

Whatever was in that DT was fucking potent, because Gaster was a pretty good kid with magic for his age, but Sans and Papyrus outstrip him fast enough that at some point theyre just swapping tricks with each other and doing things Gaster is pretty sure aren’t physically possible but. Whatever. Fuck it. 

He’s going to do physically impossible shit too if he ever gets this geothermal shit up and running. 

...it is definitely not all fun and games. Most of the time, it is the opposite. When Papyrus grows old enough to start to care more, he starts thinking a lot about morality, and LV, and finds that he can’t even remember where all of it came from, and he doesn’t know if he should want to or not. But he still likes using magic. Even though he’s careful now, he still thinks fighting is fun when he goes out and duels kids in the backlots (the monster equivalent of kittens fighting each other) . 

He and Gaster eventually work out that maybe it’s okay to be happy, even when you’ve done something bad in the past. Puzzles are very popular now, even though they’re historically military traps. Magic is even more innate and expressive than a hobby, though, and over the years Papyrus can hone it to be something different. Maybe knives aren’t only used for murder. Maybe you can fight to defend, too. 

Papyrus decides he’s going to be talented enough he never loses control of his magic ever , and can avoid even the most accidental, normal mistakes. 

(Sans, who curls up on the couch and watches Gaster do physics on the coffee table at night, also starts talking about those sorts of things. Some childhood conversations cropping up that Gaster doesn’t know if they’re normal or if it’s because of where Sans and Papyrus come from-- or if they’re the only ones talking about this at all, even, because these talks feel like the only conversations that have mattered in his whole life sometimes. His parents were kind, and supporting, and loving, but no one has ever said ‘I’m sad’ and then followed up with it—with something other than a quip, or a joke.  But he and Sans and Papyrus keep talking instead.

The people in the underground don’t like talking about the unfixable. Maybe it’s because of the puzzles, he thinks. Maybe the underground has decided that no one would ever make a problem there wasn’t some way to solve.

He doesn’t think there are ways to solve some of them. He doesn’t think there’s a way to break the barrier that will let them survive outside. He doesn’t think there’s an answer he can give Papyrus about how he can feel the LV in him surging with excitement when he fights. He doesn’t think there’s a way he can tell Sans that no one person can fix everything.

“But I guess I have to try,” he says, like a joke and a quip, and exhausted. 

“you just said you couldn’t,” says Sans, who has grown out of his crutches and gained a few centimeters height.

“Yes. But if you’re in a position to do something , aren’t you obligated to try?” Gaster replies, trying his best to stay in this conversation for Sans, who is so distressed lately, and yet he is already so very tired.  “If you’ve got the ability, aren’t you obligated to try?”)

++

(Gaster dreams about finding Serptrine, wherever he is in retirement, and murder. He also thinks about Papyrus, and how frustrated he is at his LV, and his childhood stolen away by other people’s choices, and the cessation of possibility. He thinks about Papyrus who has changed, and so has decided everyone can change if they want to, even if Gaster argues that Papyrus didn’t choose to be a killer— Gaster never chose to be an angry, lonely child. But maybe he did. Maybe he decided going with his emotions was easiest, and maybe he had to grow enough to find the will to reach for something that wasn’t his first impulse. The first impulse to violence. 

He doesn’t know. He was just a kid. But he dreams of killing Serptrine, and when he wakes, he does not follow his dreams. For a crime committed only in imagination, maybe that’s the best he can do.)

++

Gaster talks a lot about Snowdin, when he’s feeling good. He wants to go back some day, because it was such a strange little town, and so much room, and so much more welcoming than he remembers being anywhere before. They never go back to Snowdin. 

His work on the CORE gets him promoted to head scientist after several years of the position vacant and in limbo. A lot of the anger has had time to die down, though there are a few brief surges after he takes the position and starts focusing the whole of the lab towards electrical production. 

Sans and Papyrus have started schooling. Sans tests well and is good at theory, and is rocketing towards college, while Papyrus gets stuck in the minutiae, and seems to be enjoying himself plenty well refusing to move up until he has gotten a perfect score on every assignment each level can throw at him. Fudging to give him a perfect score does not work, as he only trusts his own grade evaluations, and his criteria are mysterious and vague. 

Sans—in a very aggressive move on his part—starts to work at the lab. 

Many people have gone and been replaced since he was a child here. He wanders through halls he barely remembers. He rediscovers Fig and Jam (still very young— fish mature differently, though Jam has sprouted some legs and walks on their own sometimes) and helps some in the medical wing before Gaster Very Firmly transfers him into field work and sets him about laying the wires through the underground that will eventually carry their charge. It is an absolutely mind boggling undertaking, especially with something not actually functioning yet, but Sans finds he’s actually a pretty social guy, and laying groundwork gives him a lot of time to goof off some and talk with the locals. 

Fig and Jam transfer to the CORE building site. The tubing twists and turns like roots an the central walkway is laid out like a maze. It was almost inevitable, with how more areas grew upon each other as needed, more power rods and catwalks anywhere they could go. 

In what seems like a very short time, the CORE starts to tower at the deepest edge of Hotland. It reaches so deep they need elevators to reach the lower floors by the end, and yet they still have to build on the outside around those same elevators. Eventually the moving floors are installed, just to try and keep everything stable.

DT extracted from the atmosphere over the years starts to be moved to the CORE site, because as volatile as DT can be, it’s also one of the few substances that can temper materials steeped in magma, without allowing the metal to melt. 

The channel from Snowdin is dug. Wires are laid. Small central generators are set up, to distribute the energy from within the communities— 

And Sans gets a feeling one day. Not a bad feeling or an omen. A whim, probably, and goes to visit the CORE, knowing they’re near the end of construction and Gaster is going on three days of nauseas energy and Red Buffalo, and soon he is going to explode. 

Sans finds no one on the upper floors, and no one on the walkways. Someone’s been posting motivational posters on the wall, things that started to sound a little like sentimentality and anxiety and a wild hope holding all the mess together. 

When Sans descended to the lowest levels of the CORE, on the floors just above the magma, something was wrong. Different. 

It was cold, for one. Or chilly, at least. The heat from the magma was always rising, but this wind had a bite of cold to it— and as Sans opened the first door to the observation deck, there was light that shouldn’t have been there. The whole platform down here was lit by magma glow, and yet, this light was shining instead.

For a moment, he thought, perhaps, it was electricity. A lightbulb. The first one to turn on, maybe. 

And then he opened the door wider, and he saw oblivion. 

It looked like a hole. A white hole, hovering just above Gaster’s head, in the dead center of the room. 

He could see other things around that said there should be others in the room— Fig and Jam’s water cooler. Head Guy’s binder of notes. A plate of lightly smoking bagels, partly eaten. 

And Gaster, just staring into oblivion as it grew slowly bigger, like a dark drain letting all the world around it just spill in.

And Sans, who was small and lightweight, and who hadn’t had a thought to brace— stumbled forward, and was caught in the current. 

It did feel like water. Like the world rolled up around him, and all the air sucked away, and plunged him into a bright, white ocean. 

...and like a fish, something hooked him. Caught him right in the soul. 

It flung him out, bright purple, and into the elevator a room away, where he didn’t crumble, but blacked out just long enough to miss how The End, losing one mass, took another in his place. 

(And for the first time in his life,

Gaster 

Saw 

Stars .)

[goose-books]

Ok first of all your Darkling magic post was fantastic and I can't get enough but now I MUST know...what kind of magic do the Stayer sisters have and how does it manifest??? (Also if you want to share more about Jasper's I will take it because I can't get enough of this bastard)

first of all: i apologize for the length of time between my posting of the worldbuilding post and the posting of this ask... i had almost finished writing you a response and then my computer shut down and the ask did not save! so that was a blow directly to my head! i also apologize for... the length of this!

second of all: [cups my hands and offers you this]

They say Cressida Stayer was nine years old when she turned her hair to gold. They laid her down in bed blonde, and the next morning, the waves cascading down her shoulders were solid metal, glinting harshly in the sunlight, weighing her down, creating that odd head-cocked expression she still wears now. Nine years old. Two or three years before most people develop enough magic skills to dye a single curl. Much less transfigure their hair into precious metal.

People also say Leovald Stayer’s immediate reaction was to hack it off her head and melt it down for cash. But generally they say that part a lot quieter.

— darkling, segment iv: control

so: the stayer sisters and magic.

if we charted the stayer sisters on the passive-to-active scale, it would look like this!

(left to right: ruby, cressida, and gracen.)

that said, they’re all leovald stayer’s kids, and leovald is pretty well known as one of the most magical people in dovermorry, if not in general. so he fully expected his children to have large amounts of raw magical energy as well. and they didn’t disappoint. cressida is the one well-known as a Magical Prodigy ™, but gracen and ruby are also notably powerful and notably in-control of their magic, especially for their ages! (21, 19, and 16, in descending order.) most people don’t get really, really good at controlling their magic until well into adulthood. technically you can join the guild at 17 or older, but the median age on the Mage’s Guild’s high council is, like, sixty. (when leovald is the young guy in the group, there’s an issue.)

interestingly, cressida is about two months from turning 17. but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. in descending order:

gracen’s entire thing is control. gracen stayer has a lot of power inside of her that would very much like to be outside of her, and gracen would very much like to prevent it from getting loose. she deals with this by being so hyperaware of her magic that it cannot possibly Do Things On Its Own, because she keeps it on an extremely tight leash. (this is a pretty good metaphor for how gracen deals with things in general.)

gracen... runs the stayer household. by which i mean she does everything from cleaning up after Mandatory Family Dinner to helping cressida with her calc homework to making sure ruby comes home before curfew (as not to get yelled at) to organizing leovald’s paperwork and making sure he doesn’t say something stupid on TV. gracen does most of leovald’s grunt work, actually. does she hate this? yes. but she’s also pretty sure that training the most powerful man in dovermorry into instinctively relying on her for everything is… a good long-term move, pragmatically speaking.

so gracen has a lot to do! and a lot of magic that she absolutely will not allow to build up inside of her. and she deals with this by using her magic for everything. she parcels small bits of magic out for every small task - doing the dishes, summoning a pencil from the other side of the room, making paperwork organize itself. if someone spills their drink on the carpet, gracen will draw the drink back out of the fibers, drop by drop, into the cup. by twitching one finger. understandably, this takes a lot of practiced focus and control; magic is very much something you can study and gracen very much studies it the way feral high schoolers study for the ACT. it almost doesn’t matter how active her magic is, because her magic NEVER takes any kind of natural form - she wrings out every drop in a very deliberate way. (i say almost because she can still feel it. she deliberately keeps it calm. it is harder than it looks. pretty much everything i’ve just said about gracen’s magic is a FANTASTIC metaphor for [gestures] the everything about gracen.)

and then there’s ruby, who is exactly the opposite. quelle surprise.

look, ruby is fully aware that no matter how much she practices, she is never going to be as good at controlling her magic as gracen. so she just… doesn’t. she just doesn’t! she doesn’t control it and she doesn’t use it. magic isn’t her best skill - her skillset lies in writing, in thinking, in persuading, in befriending, in provoking. why on earth would ruby magically whisk her laundry off the floor when she can just pick it up? and why would she pick it up when she can probably convince someone else to do it for her?

“but max,” you are thinking, “doesn’t her magic build up like you’ve been saying?” yes and she likes it. to be fair, she has comparatively more passive energy than her sisters; it’s easier for ruby to deal with this buildup than it would be for gracen. or for jasper, for that matter. when jasper’s magic gets to be Too Much, it’s a physical palpable thing; he gets itchy and shaky and tense and sometimes sick until he can twist off the metaphorical cap and let off some steam. for ruby, it’s more like an adrenaline rush - pounding heart, shaky limbs, heightened senses and emotions, without the risk of Making A Mess in public. she likes to let her magic build and build and build and build and then pull it back and release it into something deliberate at the very last minute. she finds this thrilling. which isn’t to say she doesn’t care! that honestly takes as much control and focus as gracen’s strategy does.

at her high school graduation, ruby “accidentally” “lost control” and set off magical fireworks over her head as she crossed the stage. loudly and vividly. leovald in the audience was so psyched he shouted. gracen would have slammed her head into the wall, except she had to comfort cressida, who reacts to loud noises like this:

as much as gracen and ruby differ in their ways of handling their magic, they’re… very similar at the core. what looks effortless is actually a lot of concentrated effort behind the scenes. and then there’s cressida, who just… does not have that.

some people (leovald) think of magic as a thing to flaunt. some people (jasper) are constantly fighting it. cressida just… does not care all that much? she just does not care. magic comes very naturally to her because it is first and foremost a way she copes with being trans and autistic in a world that is not made for her. she used to turn the lights out when rooms got too bright (and then sat back and let everyone else wonder what had happened). she’ll change fabrics to make them softer or smoother. the real story of her hair has nothing to do with gold - she was ten, not nine, and she grew her hair out to shoulder-length overnight, because she was sick of having short hair. and that was what made the rest of her family realize that maybe all that stuff about wanting to be a girl was, like… significant.

technically, yes, she is a Magical Prodigy ™! her magic settled very early and she has a LOT of it. and her magic, more than even her sisters’, is very similar to leovald’s. leovald lets his magic do WHATEVER the fuck, and the result is that he warps the world around him a LOT - fireplaces light when he walks into the room; lights flicker when he raises his voice; doors burst open in front of him even when they aren’t automatic; when his emotions are running high they affect the weather. cressida’s magic would like to be doing all of that. leovald would also like cressida’s magic to be doing all of that.

but cressida… kind of just doesn’t give a shit? she has a lot of untapped potential that she is fine with not tapping. she is perfectly content with living her life using her magic to, like, change the radio station from the backseat of the car (when you’re the youngest of three children, you NEVER get shotgun).

buuuuuut leovald is really psyched about having a freaky magical savant child. and most people see cressida - quiet, staring off into space, blank facial expression, not great at talking - and quietly assume that the magic thing is… like… all she has going for her. so she’s very much been pigeonholed into Magical Prodigy Zone, whether she likes that or not.

whoa this is a lot of text have an image

and then jasper is just… the anti-cressida. he has a thousand and one talents and gets perfect grades and charms everyone he meets and he is a walking biohazard when it comes to magic. and it drives him CRAZY, as much as he pretends not to care.

most people have their magic all figured out by the time they’re in high school. jasper is sixteen, almost seventeen, and something about it is… still just not working for him. even simple stuff (duplicating post-it notes! making flashcards shuffle themselves!) just… takes much more effort than it should. and because he hates being bad at it, he doesn’t use it, and then it builds up, and he ends up jittering like a live wire, and then if that goes too far things explode.

jasper has elected to blame his mother pretty much entirely for this, because vee has NONE of the same problems. (plenty of problems! but not related to magic.) …plus, you know. jasper’s had enough mishaps in public to know that his father ALSO blames jasper’s mother, pretty vocally, whenever he gets the chance.

on a conscious level, jasper is actually fine with having magic that just Does Not Fucking Work. because he has SO many nonmagical skills that it makes up the difference. at his boarding school, he sits atop a throne made of forged prescriptions, pay-per-page homework, and confessions of love from people who do not know him nearly enough to confess their love to him. on a subconscious level he has a whole complex about it but [gesturing] that’s a given, isn’t it

[angelofthequeers]

Hold Me By Both Hands: Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

Yes I know that Nooroo is transmission and not transition but let me be salty at this show’s utter failure of symbolism okay

I also drew a lot from this post, so go and give @loosescrewslefty a lot of love for the effort they put into it! And credit for the Aztecan Miraculouses to @sparklyaxolotlstudent and I highly recommend checking their posts out.

Chapter 7 | Chapter 9 | AO3 link

“I never thought I’d be glad that you go to school,” Plagg comments once Adrien’s car drives off. “Blech, your father was in a mood.”

“And I still didn’t even get to see him,” Adrien says, rolling his eyes. “I just got a five-minute disapproving stare over tablet during breakfast.”

“You know, they say that talking to yourself is the first sign of madness,” says a cheerful voice from behind him. Adrien jumps and staggers back, only to flush when he sees that it’s just a laughing Marinette, with Alya and Nino behind her.

“Payback’s a bitch, huh?” Alya says. She fist-bumps Marinette. “Don’t mess with my girl, Agreste.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean to scare her last week!” Adrien says as they head into the courtyard. His brain lights up like a Pavlovian firework when Marinette hands over his daily paper bag of pastries; he hasn’t gotten a box since that first day, but he sure as hell isn’t going to complain when it’s free treats from a brilliant bakery. Today’s lucky dip is a chocolate croissant and a cheese bun, and he surreptitiously breaks off a chunk of the bun to save for Plagg, even though the little gremlin will no doubt complain that it’s not Camembert.

“You were saying that your dad couldn’t even show up to be disapproving, right?” Nino says. “Dude, that’s rough.”

“At least my dad tells me when I’ve fucked up in person,” Alya says, threading her fingers with Nino’s. “But then again, your dad is really extra.”

“Of course he’s extra,” Marinette says. “Have you seen what he wears? I’d get blacklisted from the fashion industry if I tried to get away with that.”

Adrien can’t help but burst out laughing at that. God, what a miracle that Marinette hasn’t actually hated him all this time, because now that she’s started to come out of her shell around him, she’s a super cool friend to have. And that’s not even counting the time he’d visited her as Chat Noir. It would be nice to know why she’d been so weird for the past year, though.

“Adrien! Hi!” Lila stops next to him, beaming. Okay, whoa, she’s way too close, and Adrien’s sure she’s nice enough despite the lies – really, as if she’s Ladybug’s best friend, his lady isn’t irresponsible enough to be friends with someone who’d broadcast it everywhere – but there’s just…something about her. Something he can’t quite put his finger on. Maybe he’s just uncomfortable because she loves to touch him in every way possible whenever she’s around him.

“Hey, Lila!” Marinette smiles, but something about it rings false. Does she also know that Lila tends to not be truthful? “How was your weekend?”

“Oh, I was supposed to have lunch with Clara Nightingale, but she had to cancel at the last moment,” Lila sighs. “She was so bummed, though!”

“But Clara’s not even in Europe right now,” Alya says with a furrowed brow.

“Yeah, dude,” Nino says. “Last I heard, she was over in California. In America.”

“She was going to fly me over in her private jet!” Lila says. “I guess she’s just too busy with her upcoming album.”

Marinette, Alya, and Nino don’t look fooled at all. How does everyone else believe these lies? But they’re not really hurting anyone, so Adrien sees no point in starting a fuss. The only person who could get hurt by these lies are her, once people see through them and decide not to associate with her.

“Do you want some of this croissant?” Adrien holds the pastry out to Lila. “It’s freshly baked from Marinette’s bakery!”

“I’m still salty that he’s the only one you give pastries to,” Alya grumbles. “It’s not like I’m your best friend or anything.”

“It’s not like Adrien’s being neglected by his father or anything,” Marinette retorts. Alya groans.

“Touché. And fuck your logic.”

“That’s so sweet of you to offer!” Lila says, shooting Marinette and Alya a weird glance out of the corner of her eye. Then she leans in and, without taking it from Adrien, takes a large bite out of the end of the croissant that he had been eating and lets out an appreciative hum. “This is delicious! Your parents are so talented, Marinette!”

“Um, thank you!” Marinette says.

“Anyway,” Lila says, running her hand down Adrien’s arm. He instinctively leans away, but she follows him. “I was wondering if you wanted to get ice cream with me after school, Adrien?”

Shit. Is she asking him out on a date? Or just an outing as friends? What does he do? If he assumes it’s a date and it’s not, she’ll get offended. But if he assumes it’s not a date and it is, he’ll be leading her on and letting her think that he’s interested in her, when he’s really not. Besides, the thought of being alone with Lila is…worrying, especially if this is how she touches him around other people. Time for a convenient excuse.

“Sorry, but I really can’t,” he ends up saying. Lila steps back and stares at him with wide, glossy eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable!” she says.

“My father just –”

“I understand. It’s okay. I shouldn’t have assumed – I’m awful – I understand if you don’t want to –”

“Uh, what?” Alix says from behind Lila, with Kim and Max beside her. “It’s nothing against you, Lila.”

“Yes, Adrien’s father is incredibly strict,” Max says. “There’s a ninety-nine-point nine percent chance that Mr Agreste wouldn’t allow Adrien to get ice cream with you.”

“Oh.” Lila’s shoulders slump. “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions. I had no idea that your father was so strict!”

“Weren’t you protesting with us?” Kim says.

“Oh – yes, but I assumed his father was just angry,” Lila says. “I didn’t realise he was like that all the time! I’m so sorry, Adrien!”

“It’s fine,” Adrien says. Lila smiles at him and walks off. “Thanks, guys. I didn’t know what to do.”

“If you don’t want her to touch you, why don’t you just tell her that?” Alix says. “I mean, Chloé’s Chloé, but Lila would stop if you told her.”

“It’s alright,” Adrien says. “It’s not like I’m not used to it. People touch you all the time as a model.”

“Still doesn’t make it okay,” Kim says and flexes his arms. “You wouldn’t believe how many people wanna touch all this.”

“Absolutely no one,” Alix deadpans and Kim sticks his tongue out at her. Next to Kim, Max’s eyes flick away, and Adrien’s forcibly reminded of Marinette’s words to him as Chat Noir the other day about Max and Kim.

“Kim’s right,” Marinette says. “Just because you’re a model, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be able to tell people not to touch you! It’s your body!”

Adrien can’t help the smile that breaks free at his friends’ words. “Thanks, guys,” he says. “I just don’t know if I’ll be able to ask other people not to touch me.”

“That makes sense,” Max says. “Due to your father’s strict nature and refusal to consider your wishes, along with your modelling, the chance of his influence leading to your inability to vocalise what you want when you’re uncomfortable and therefore developing the unfortunate habit of putting up with your discomfort to make it pass faster is –”

“Alright, alright, come on,” Alix says, grabbing Max by the arm.

“But I haven’t finished my analysis!” Max protests as Alix leads him away. Kim snorts and follows.

“You know maths makes my brain hurt,” he’s saying as he leaves. Adrien, Marinette, Alya, and Nino are left in silence.

“Well,” Alya eventually says. “Trust Max to call you out like that.”

“I don’t think he realised that he might be making Adrien uncomfortable?” Marinette says. “I know I sometimes don’t think –”

“Actually, he didn’t,” Adrien says absently. “I think he’s got a point. I just don’t know what I’m going to do about it yet.”

“Yeah, not like I’ve been telling you that crap for months, dude,” Nino says dryly. “But sure, listen to the nerd with maths on his side.”

“No!” Marinette and Alya cry when a smirk spreads across Adrien’s face.

“Don’t fuck with me!” Adrien says. Marinette and Alya groan and grab Nino to make a run for it, so he chases after them, ignoring the people around them that are staring. “I have the power of God and Anime on my side!”

“Stay away!” Alya calls over her shoulder. “Keep your vines away from us, meme freak!”

.

“Fancy seeing you here, milady,” Chat Noir says when he lands on the rooftop behind Ladybug, who turns and greets him with a smile. “How did you know I liked afternoon strolls?”

“Just a lucky guess,” Ladybug says. “I’ve got a little after-school class to attend.”

“What a coincidence! So do I!” Chat Noir says. “In that case, allow me to escort you there.”

“I think you’ll find that I’ll be escorting you,” Ladybug teases and then jumps off again.

“Hey! No fair!” Chat Noir cries as he races after her. It’s a tight race to get to Master Fu’s, but Ladybug just edges out a victory and lands in front of the parlour a split second before Chat Noir, though he’s not too upset to have come second when Ladybug gives him a kiss on the cheek as a consolation prize and holds the parlour door open for him.

“Hello, Ladybug and Chat Noir,” Master Fu smiles when they enter the main room.

“Hi, Master!” Ladybug says.

“So, why are we here?” Chat Noir says. He sinks to the floor with Ladybug when Master Fu indicates that they should sit.

“I’m very proud of the partnership that you two have formed,” Master Fu says. “And of the progress that you have made as Ladybug and Chat Noir.” He pats the Miracle Box between them and adds, “I thought that it was time to teach you about the Miraculouses. You’ve certainly earned the right.”

“Looks like you were right about the afternoon class, milady,” Chat Noir says, and Ladybug giggles. This time, when Master Fu opens the box to reveal the colourful ring around the yin and yang symbol, more compartments spring open down the sides of the box in a descending spiral. Chat Noir’s eyes widen. Whoa! How many more Miraculouses are there?

“Aren’t they based on the Chinese zodiac?” Chat Noir says once he’s taken in the Rooster, Snake, Pig, and Dragon and noticed a certain pattern. Master Fu nods.

“This is the Chinese Miraculous set. There are other sets of Miraculouses with other bases, such as the Aztecan Miraculouses of life and death, but this is the only surviving box after my mistake,” he says. Huh. Must have been a real big mistake if these are the only Miraculouses left. But Chat Noir’s pretty sure that this isn’t the right time to ask about that.

“And…are they based on Wu Xing?” Ladybug says, pointing out the Fox, Bee, Turtle, Peacock, and Butterfly slots. “The Five Phases? Five elements?”

“Correct, Ladybug,” Master Fu says.

“My bugaboo is so smart!” Chat Noir says. Ladybug’s cheeks pinken.

“My mum’s Chinese,” she says, and Chat Noir files that bit of information away in his mental safe of Ladybug Facts. “I don’t know any dialects or anything, but…she did tell me a little bit about Taoism.”

“Each Miraculous corresponds to an element, with three tiers of power,” Master Fu says. “I won’t teach you about the zodiacs today, but I do want to talk about the elementals.”

“The Miraculouses don’t necessarily represent an element,” Wayzz chimes in. “There’s no “fire Miraculous” or “water Miraculous”. It’s more that they correspond with an element that represents their concepts. For example, I correspond with the element of earth!”

“Because earth is stable, right?’ Ladybug says. “And you’re a pretty wise and solid kwami.”

Wayzz beams at her words and nods. “Yes! I embody protection and defence, so my powers reflect that. The Butterfly corresponds with water because of the fluid nature of akumatisation.”

“How is akumatisation a good thing, though?” Chat Noir says. Master Fu doesn’t answer, instead tilting his head at them like he expects them to figure it out for themselves. To be fair, as a teacher, he probably is expecting that.

“No Miraculous is necessarily good or bad, right?” Ladybug says. “I mean, you’d think Chat Noir would be the bad guy, but his Cataclysm is invaluable when saving Paris. And I can think of so many ways someone could use mine for evil.”

“Then…if you had someone who was upset…” Chat Noir says slowly. “Someone who felt helpless…they could become an akuma, right? That’s what Hawkmoth does. But instead of making them supervillains…they could be superheroes?”

“Correct, both of you,” Master Fu says with a wide smile. “The Butterfly creates champions to fight alongside themselves and their allies. It doesn’t necessarily rely on emotion, though, as Duusu the Peacock kwami is the kwami of emotion. Rather, the Butterfly draws on injustice and the desire to right it, and it metamorphoses its target with the power to fix that injustice. Hence, Nooroo is the kwami of transition and metamorphosis, just as a caterpillar transitions into a butterfly, and just as water can transition between physical states.”

“And every akuma we’ve faced has felt wronged!” Ladybug gasps. “Ivan when he was bullied by Chloé!”

“Nino when he couldn’t throw m – Adrien a party!” Chat Noir says.

“Alya when Chloé got her suspended!”

“Alix when her watch was broken!”

“Mr Agreste when his book and brooch were taken!” the two of them chorus together. Ladybug’s bluebell eyes are glittering like she’s discovered the secrets of the universe, and Chat Noir would be utterly captivated if he wasn’t certain that he looked the same way. A small part of his brain laments that he can’t see her eyes in their true shade of grey, to know just how much prettier she could possibly be.

“Indeed,” Master Fu says. “The positivity or negativity of the emotion doesn’t matter. Someone could feel the righteous desire to do good and right wrongs and they would be just as able to be akumatised. I suspect that Hawkmoth targets those with negative emotions because it is easier to take advantage of them, to convince them to help him with the promise of getting to right the wrong that left them in their situation while their judgement is clouded. And injustice is very subjective to the person. What could be just to one person could be unjust to another.”

“That would explain the…odder akumas,” Ladybug says.

“It’s okay, you can say Mr Pigeon and Animan,” Chat Noir says, making Ladybug snort.

“And unlike the Peacock, which can amokise itself with no ill consequences, the Butterfly holder should not akumatise themselves,” Master Fu says. “The Peacock’s amoks are external, whereas the Butterfly’s akumas create internal change within the target themselves, and so a transformed Butterfly cannot affect themselves with an akuma. And akumatising themselves when not transformed, without the safety net of the holder’s control over the akuma, can potentially have harmful effects on their psyche. Only a truly desperate holder would akumatise themselves.”

“What kind of effects?” Ladybug says quietly. She bites her lip and shoots Chat Noir a look, clearly remembering back to their suspicions of Gabriel Agreste…but he wouldn’t akumatise himself! He can’t be that desperate, right?

“Impossible to say for sure, since there are almost limitless ways to akumatise someone. It could affect their grip on the world around them. It could affect their morality and how far they’re willing to go to achieve their goals. It could leave them with twisted flashbacks, or distort how they see their friends and family, or many more options that I couldn’t even begin to delve into. It depends on how they akumatised themselves.”

“Well, it can’t be Fa – Gabriel Agreste, then, right?” Chat Noir says almost desperately, like he’s pleading with himself. “He must have something to lose. Like his son?”

“That’s what I said to Tikki when I asked her,” Ladybug says. Chat Noir’s heart leaps at the reminder that Ladybug cares so deeply for him, even if it is his civilian self that she’s crushing on. In a way, it’s painful to know that she’s crushing on him but also not on him; it’s not like he’s had the chance to ask her out as Adrien, and he doesn’t know her civilian identity, so he can’t try and build a friendship and maybe eventually a relationship there.

“Can we keep going, Master?” he says to pull himself out of his swirling thoughts.

Master Fu nods and points at the Bee comb. “The Bee corresponds with the element of fire,” he says. “It’s a very passionate Miraculous and represents subjection and rejuvenation, just as the bee stings those it deems a threat in order to protect its hive and pollinates the land around it. Bees also represent growth, so Pollen’s ideal holder is someone who has much potential for growth to be coaxed out of them, to learn when to sting for the greater good and how to remain warm while not burning out of control.”

“Well, I wouldn’t make a good Bee, then,” Chat Noir jokes weakly. “Bugaboo sets my heart on fire.”

“Oh my god,” Ladybug mutters and shoves him. But her lips are twitching, and his heart is a little lighter, so he counts his joke as pretty effective.

“The Fox corresponds with the element of wood,” Master Fu says with a fond little smile at their antics. “Trixx pushes his holders to grow and adapt and change, just as wood branches out. The Fox represents illusion and manipulation, so its primary power of Mirage allows its holder to stay back and work from the shadows, involving themselves when necessary.”

“So, it shouldn’t go to someone aggressive?” Chat Noir says.

“It can,” Master Fu says. “So long as that person recognises the value of working from afar and withdrawing when needed. There are personalities that would not at all fit a certain Miraculous, but no Miraculous has only one type of person who would be compatible with it.”

“I may represent protection, but I’ve had some very aggressive holders before,” Wayzz chimes in. “And Pollen has had quite subdued and quiet holders that mirror herself, despite representing a Miraculous of passion. Some of Nooroo’s holders have been so empathetic that they were driven to help right all the injustices they could, while others were able to completely detach themselves from their target’s emotions and create champions for their cause with no emotional investment themselves.”

“But isn’t the Peacock about emotion? Ladybug says. “You just said that the Butterfly relies on emotion around injustice.”

“The Peacock and Butterfly are similar, yes,” Master Fu says. “They can both sense the emotions of those around them. But while the Butterfly uses its champions’ emotions as a catalyst of sorts to persuade them to come to the holder’s aid, the Peacock is emotion. Its primary power is amokisation, allowing it to summon a sentimonster based on the emotion of its target. It requires a soulful holder; someone who can truly delve into the depths of emotion and understand its complexity.”

“So…an akuma is based on what the holder wants, but an amok is based on what the target needs?” Ladybug says. Master Fu beams.

“Yes,” he says. “Subtle differences, but still differences nonetheless. The Peacock corresponds to the element of metal, so it is a very introspective Miraculous. The wrong emotion for your purpose can have…vastly different results than desired.”

“Sounds like there’s a bit of history behind that?” Ladybug says. Master Fu nods but doesn’t say anything, so she doesn’t push and neither does Chat Noir, not that it would be their place to do so anyway.

“All of the Wu Xing Miraculouses have a secondary power, and the Ladybug and Black Cat have quite a few more powers,” he says. “But it’s up to your kwamis to decide if you are ready to learn and understand them. Especially Black Plague.”

“The last time Plagg taught his holder Black Plague was in 1338, although the date of 1347 is far more widely known,” Wayzz says. It takes a moment for the significance of that date to hit Chat Noir, but his stomach suddenly churns when he grasps it.

“Oh,” he says weakly. Next to him, Ladybug has paled as she too realises. “That makes me feel good about myself.”

“Black Plague can be extremely useful in the right hands, under strict control,” Master Fu says. “That Black Cat wielder was…not the right hands. But Plagg has refused to teach it since, understandably.”

“And that’s the counterpart to my Miraculous Ladybug?” Ladybug says, and Master Fu nods.

“This is all so cool,” Chat Noir says. “And mind-screwy. I think my head’s going to explode.” But he’d totally take this over normal school any day. Especially because he gets to learn with his lady!

Actually, no, he probably shouldn’t jinx the whole normal school thing. Normal school, he enjoys; it’s just the stuff that all normal kids learn that can be a drag. Especially when he’s learning about Miraculouses right now!

“Should we discuss the Ladybug and Black Cat another day?” an amused Master Fu says.

“Yes, please,” Ladybug says faintly. “I think I need to take notes.”

“I can always tutor you, milady,” Chat Noir grins.

“Sure, kitty,” Ladybug drawls. “I’ll give you my notes, so you know what to teach me.”

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Chat Noir says loudly, ignoring Ladybug’s giggle as he jumps to his feet, even though the sound fills his insides with warmth. “Thanks for the lesson, Master.”

“Thanks, Master!” Ladybug says. Master Fu smiles at both of them.

“Good luck, Ladybug and Chat Noir,” he says. “I don’t think I could have picked a better duo.”

[thisishawkins]

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

I’m back! Life has been very busy and tense these past few months, and I’ve found that writing really helps. So, hopefully I’ll be posting more often.

Anyway, please enjoy, and comment your thoughts!

Hope your day/night is going well. xx

- K

~

You discover something about yourself, and it saves Billy.

Warnings: death, violence

------------

It was on the roof.

Creak tick tick. Creak tick tick.

Everyone was silent, with breathes held in and gazes cast up in horror.

The monster, a bloody mass that formed into a two-ton demonic crab-like creature, was on the glass roof above the Starcourt Mall food court. 

You were standing next to Nancy and Jonathan, prior to this moment, discussing what to do next.

Looking to El across the court with Max and Mike, you screeched, “Run!”

It was too late. A fissure formed in a pane of glass, and it hailed down onto the food court.

Everyone scattered trying to take cover, choosing to jump behind counters, barriers, and pillars.

You didn’t glance back, only to your right as Jonathan slammed himself next to you, hand intertwined with Nancy’s on his other side. 

Trying to find your composure, you attempted to slow your breaths as the creature roared, the sound urging you to cover your ears in the fear of your eardrums bursting.

The roar fell to a low grumble, resembling a hoard of hungry coyotes. 

Plinksh. Plinksh. Plinksh.

The air changed, pressure along with the mixture of artificial cold and summer heat combining into one singular feeling.

Danger.

Suddenly, an uncanny warmth crept underneath your skin, a sensation that resembled the rise of goosebumps, but somehow this was much warmer. It tingled at the tips of your fingers and toes, and fizzled on your ears.

This occurred only twice before. 

The first was when you watched your mother cry after your Dad left. She sat on the edge of her bed with the door cracked. Your nine year old self peaked through, wondering then why your Mom was hiding from you. You could make her feel better. Somehow, you knew deep in your bones that you could help.

The second was witnessing that the Mindflayer had, indeed, possessed Billy. He hadn’t been himself for days, and had resorted to avoiding you altogether, and you wanted to know why. After arguing with him, seeing in his eyes that he was not Billy anymore, the Flayed Billy shut the door in your face. He needed you. Somehow, you sensed it. As if it was a tangible fact.

The three of you squatted behind the counter, and again you felt the sensation accompanying that deep urgency. You could do something.

For the life of you, you still did not know what that was.

A loud crack burst through the air, and the monster squealed. The three of you shot up from behind the counter to see Lucas and Will lighting fireworks.

Your eyes flicked from Jonathan’s to some boxes a few yards from Lucas. 

“Y/N, wait - ” Jonathan sputtered, but it was too late. You had already jumped over the counter and were sprinting toward the makeshift weapons of powder and neon light.

Your shoes squealed along the tile as your feet halted long enough for your hands to load your arms full of rockets. Miraculously, you had Billy’s lighter stuffed in your pocket, you remembered, as you ran to an open spot in front of the beast.

Pinching the end of a fuse, you fingers fumbled to ignite it. 

You silently prayed that this wasn’t the one time it was out of lighter fluid.

Sweaty fingers tried again and again to spark a flame, you let out an exasperated sigh when, finally, it did.

You watched as the sparks inched closer to the end of the rocket. Your attention went to another one as it hit the grotesque blob with crustacean appendages.

Minutes stretched on as you kept lighting them, and occasionally diverting your attention to ensure that they were making their target.

With all of the cacophony whizzing around you, you failed to notice Billy walking toward your target with an unconscious El laid over his shoulder.

“Y/N!” You barely heard Nancy yell as she yanked you away from the few remaining fireworks.

You were almost in a daze as your eyes went from her face over to what her eyes were focused on now, her mouth agape in horror.

Billy was giving El to the creature, laying her onto the ground in front of it as if she were a sacrificial lamb to a god.

All you could do was stand there, paralyzed. Internally, you were battling with that overpowering urgency to help and that feeble pull, an inner-doubt, that you could not. What was it that you could do besides adding yourself to the mass of dead or mindflayed?

You watched on as Billy leaned close to El, and she seemed to be reading him, trying to uncover the layers of flayed that were cast onto his mind and his spirit. 

Billy stood once more, and began to push the monster away. 

“Billy, NO!” You screamed, feeling tears dampen your cheeks.

Then, more pincers sprouted out of the Mindflayer’s pet, and they latched onto Billy, raising him into the air.

He screamed, while dark red blood, almost black, dripped onto the tile several feet beneath him.

All of a sudden, the creature seemed to pause its feeding on him, and it let out an earth-quaking howl.

One of pure anguish.

The gate is closing., you thought.

Black vapor soared through the air, until it disappeared into the darkness of the July night.

The monster’s body dropped onto the ground, and in an instant began to decay, crumbling into dust and goo.

Without a second thought, your feet carried you over to Billy, meeting Max at his side.

He was covered in red and black blood, soot, and sweat, with his watery eyes on the open ceiling.

Before you were able to form any words, Billy managed to gurgle out, “I’m sorry.”

Then, everything stopped.

Max whimpered out his name, shaking him a little. She began weeping, eyes not leaving her brother.

But, you barely heard it. Your mind was blank, nearly making you insensible.

Your chin trembled, and tears streamed down your flushed, grimy cheeks.

As he past, you failed to notice then that you had placed your hand into his own, which you noted as your glanced down at it now, your grip still tight while his was limp.

You kept incessantly repeating No as your hands slid up to his face. Max watched as your bent over him, your nose nearly touching his, and your tears fell onto his unmoving face. Your chest felt tight as you heaved out heavy, hushed sobs.

It only made Max cry even harder. El came to her side, tears falling down her own cheeks.

Billy gave himself up to save her, and for that, she was eternally grateful and sorry.

Your trembling lips pressed a kiss to his forehead, and you sat up, putting your head into your hands, continually heaving out your weeps.

Billy Hargrove was gone. Billy, your best friend, the love of your life, had left this earth. 

Your Billy.

At that thought, you began shaking your head, and took your hands away from your face. 

“No.”, you spoke aloud, shaking your head as if in denial. Deep anguish and sorrow quickly built into a ball of anger in your chest, and that tingling started again. It rose into a sizzling burn.

Without another thought or word, you hit Billy’s chest, as if that would wake him up from his permanent slumber.

Max and El, along with the others that were gathered nearby, stared at you in horror.

That urgency hit you with full force like never before. You could do something. You felt it now more than ever, but were unable to explain it to yourself.

Through burning tears, you hit his chest again and yelled, hitting it once more.

However, it felt as if the next blow happened in slow motion. 

The tingling sensation zipped its way from your ears and toes to your hands, and a tangerine glow emitted from them, spreading to Billy’s body as you made contact with him.

Your friends were propelled a foot or two backward, and stared at you, mouths open in confusion and awe.

In disbelief, you overturned your shaky hands and stared at your palms.

Suddenly, Billy coughed, choking life back into him as if he had nearly drowned and had finally broken the surface for air. He jerked upward, but lowered his head back to the ground, blinking away his murky vision.

He was sore, damaged goods. But he was alive, and you had brought him back.

“Billy?”, you called softly, your startled eyes on him as Max quickly moved on her hands and knees over to him.

You took his hand into both of your own. Billy gripped them lightly as he blinked languidly, still staring up at the shattered ceiling.

“Y/N.”, his answer came out in a rasp, with the edge of his mouth managing to quirk up into a small, soft smile.

A smile appeared on your lips along with a small laugh, and tears of relief escaped from your eyes.

You glanced from Billy to Max, holding her gaze for a moment. Incredulity remaining in her eyes still, she couldn’t help but smile, too.

He turned his head as you leaned over him, his devastating blues meeting your eyes.

You brought his hand to your lips, pressing them there for a moment.

Billy laughed, but it hurt his chest. He ached all over.

Despite this, he took his hand from yours, and brushed your tears away with his thumb.

Max took his other hand into her own, and he looked to her with a small smile. She returned it without a word.

It was then you remembered that he was still bleeding.

He tried to sit up, his face pinching together and a groan bubbling out, but you put a hand to his shoulder, concern painting over your relief.

“Billy, you’re still -”

“Y/N.”, Max interrupted. You looked away from him, eyes following Max's disturbed stare on Billy’s body.

She had lifted his white wife-beater, revealing that not only had the bleeding stopped, but the wounds were already gnarled scars.

He slowly sat up, the pair of you quickly giving him your hands. He squeezed them, his face tightened into a wince.

"How is this possible?", Mike inquired from behind you, breaking the silence. You turned, seeing that the rest of the gang were standing a couple of yards away, looks of confusion and disbelief contorting their faces.

"I-I don't know.", you replied softly. You shifted your focus from your friends back to Billy. 

"What did you do?", he asked, his eyes searching yours. It wasn't an accusation, it was genuine concern and bewilderment.

You opened your mouth to explain, but found that words escaped you.

"She's like me.", El interjected.

Everyone looked to her, she was now next to Max.

"Oh, I don't know about that.", you told them, "That was the first time it's happened."

You looked down at your hands. The tingling had left your fingers and toes, but still delicately prickled at your ears.

Realization struck you.

"El, give me your ankle.", you gently commanded, meeting her eyes.

El stepped over and sat next to you, laying her injured ankle out in front of you, its bandages soaked in soot and blood.

The others stepped closer, and Billy and Max watched on.

You placed your hands onto her ankle, and she winced.

"Sorry.", you mumbled before closing your eyes.

You concentrated on how you felt before, the fresh memories flashing around like slots of film in your mind. 

The sensations only happened when you were in moments of true emotional strain. You concluded that the only way to do whatever you had done was to think of those moments.

Everyone watched as the tangerine glow radiated from your hands onto El's wound.

After a few seconds, it stopped.

You opened your eyes, and El quickly unravelled her bandages.

A scar was the only thing left on her ankle.

Silence passed as everyone stared from El to you.

"Y/N, you're a-", Max began.

"Freak.", you finished, but it came out as more of a question. You studied your hands.

"No.", Billy croaked, his hands taking your own, "Don't say that."

"But, what am I?", you questioned incredulously, your gaze imploring your friends for an answer.

Sirens began to echo throughout the mall, and everyone glanced around searching for the source.

"Guess we'll figure that out later.", you concluded, grasping Billy's hand and nodded towards Max.

The both of you helped Billy get up, and slung his arms around your shoulders, as El, Mike, and Lucas waited for the three of you.

El took one last glance at you, then back at the remains of the monster. 

Mike held out his hand, and she took it, diverting her attention back to him.

You placed your free hand on El's shoulder as you moved alongside her.

"It's over.", you reassured her, a tired smile on your lips.

Despite the pile of molten alien carcass displayed mere yards from her, El wasn't so sure.

*

"Did - did you hit me back there?", Billy inquired, a bit of a smirk creeping onto his face, despite his exhaustion. "The center of my chest feels like I got socked with a brick."

To Billy's disdain, you had ordered him to be checked out by the paramedics. He just wanted to nurse himself, in the cozy, safe confines of your house. But, to your insistence and worry, he complied.

So, there he sat, his ass parked on the edge of an ambulance, the available paramedic going back and forth from poking, prodding, and posing questions.

To Billy's relief, the paramedic, Clyde, had been called over by Mrs. Wheeler, who wanted to have Mike checked over another time.

You rubbed the back of your neck, looking at him with an awkward smirk. "Yeah, sorry about that."

Swiveling on your toes, you placed yourself next to him.

Despite his deeply sore muscles, he instinctively slung his arm over your shoulders. 

"Don't apologize, babe. I wouldn't be here without you.", his voice crackled into you ear, now devoid of any teasing - only sincerity and gratitude.

The thought rushed your sorrow and relief back into your chest, coursing through your lungs like humid air and welling up into a ball in your throat.

You burrowed into him, carefully wrapping your arms around his middle as your bottom lip trembled.

Meeting his eyes, you rasped, "Let's talk about that tomorrow, okay?"

His deep cerulean eyes searched yours, and he nodded. It could wait - tonight was already fueled with trauma.

You swallowed, a soft smile replacing your tender frown, and added, "Besides, I'm supposed to be taking care of you, remember?"

His arm pulled you closer, if possible, and he told you, matching your smile, "We are going to take care of each other. Like always."

Eyes never leaving each other, you promised, "Always."

[serendipitousrambles]

One Summer Can Change Everything

Chapter nine: Fourth of July

"Happy fourth of July!"

The beach was packed with families and friends celebrating, a sea of red, white, and blue.

They'd spent the day at the beach, but now it was time for what everyone was waiting for. The fireworks.

El sat between Mike's legs as his arms wrapped around her middle. It made a change sitting like this out of comfort as opposed to exhaustion and fear. She tilted her head back to lean on his shook as she looked up at the sky, holding her breath as she waited for the fireworks.

Max, Dustin, and Will laid down on the beach blanket to stare up at the sky. Lucas sat instead with his arms on his knees, not too interested in the fireworks. He couldn't shake that image out of his mind. Max...and Dustin?

He always knew Dustin had had a crush on Max but to go behind his back like that? Even after they just broke up? He could barely look either of them in the eye.

"Look!" El pointed excitedly up where a single spark had been shot into the sky. After a moment of silence, it erupted in a huge bang followed by a spark of red showering across the sky.

Red, blue, and white fireworks were being set off, changing after a while into all the colours: purples, pinks, greens etc.

The crowd on the beach were cheering and clapping. Lucas looked over to see Dustin and Max laughing, and Mike hugging El tightly.

He tried to block it out and looked up at the sky, but the red fireworks just made him think of Max's hair, of her converses that are so worn out from years of skateboarding but she loved too much to ever replace. It made him think of the colour of her cheeks the first time they kissed at the snowball all those years ago, the colour of his hoodie that he'd given her when she was cold that one time. Did she ever give it back?

"Lucas? Lucas ."

He hadn't even realised he'd zoned out until Will was shaking him on the shoulder. The fireworks had ended and now they were going to find some food.

Mike and El had already begun to lead the way, with Dustin excitedly rambling behind them about these "awesome hotdogs" he'd smelled earlier. Will helped Lucas up, but over his shoulder he saw Max awkwardly lingering.

"Hey…" she said to Lucas and Will sighed, running to catch up with his friends - doomed forever to third wheel it seems.

"Hi." Lucas shrugged, dusting sand off his shorts before slowly walking beside her.

"Can we talk?"

So this was it? She was going to tell him that she'd moved on to Dustin now.

"Don't bother. I know what you're going to say." He couldn't look at her.

"You don't."

He stopped walking and faced her. "You're going to tell me you've moved on to Dustin. I get it. He's always had a crush on you. And now he has his chance."

She scrunched up her face, "What are you talking about?"

"I saw you two. Kissing. I'm not an idiot. You clearly want to be with him."

Her face grew red, but this time in anger. "So you're spying on me? We broke up! It's none of your business what was going on between me and Dustin - which by the way there is nothing happening between us!"

"Oh so you deny kissing him?"

"No...that did happen. But it didn't mean anything."

"Oh so when you kissed me it didn't mean anything either?"

"Are you hearing yourself right now?" She threw her hands in the air. "You know that is different."

"How?" He folded his arms. "How is it different?"

"Because I didn't feel anything when I kissed Dustin!" She shouted. "Because when we kissed I realised that you're the only one I want to kiss. Alright!"

He was stood in stunned silence. A few moments ago he was so certain she was about to tell him she was with Dustin, but now...he didn't know what to think.

"Because I love you, stalker."

They'd never said that before. Sure they'd been on again, off again for about 4 years. But it just hadn't ever been a good time. Both had been scared that the minute they said it, they'd break up. So it just never felt right. But Max didn't know why she'd taken so long. Because she had loved him for years.

Great, now he was just staring at her in silence and maybe it was the wrong time to tell him after all.

"You... but…" Lucas' brain stopped working.

She stepped forward and cupped both his cheeks in her hands before kissing him. And it was different than before...but better. Somehow it was even more clear in her mind that there wasn't going to be anyone else. They just couldn't be Lucas.

"You love me?" Was all he managed to say once they broke apart.

Max broke into the biggest grin, nodding.

"I love you too, Mad Max. And I'm sorry for everything."

She shook her head, "I should be sorry too. I was scared about everything. Worried that we're going to be so far apart we won't be able to handle it. But I realise I can't just be your friend."

"No?" He raised an eyebrow playfully and she laughed, shaking her head as she pressed her forehead against his.

"No."

/////

El's eyes grew wide when she saw Max and Lucas walking towards them, hand in hand. She dumped her half eaten hot dog in Mike's hand and ran over to Max, giving her a huge hug.

"Are you back together again?"

"Uh huh." Max smiled, looking over at Lucas. "We're gonna make it work. You and Mike show how it's possible to get through anything, and maybe we can too."

El looked over her shoulder at Mike and smiled. He was stood holding her hot dog in one hand and trying to eat his in the other. His long legs still looked dorky in shorts and he still had that same silly flop of hair. But she couldn't imagine anyone she loved more. And hearing that Max saw them as an inspiration just melted her heart. They hadn't set out to be some great romantic story, but when she looked at him she knew they would stand the test of time. Because they were Mike and El. They always would be.

"I know we can survive anything." El smiled, looking back at Max and Lucas.

"Anyway, I'm hungry." Max pulled on Lucas' hand and dragged him to the hot dog stand.

Dustin smiled at them as they past, but Will wasn't convinced.

"Are you ok?"

Dustin looked shocked. "Who? Me? I'm fine."

"But you like Max." It wasn't a question.

"I did. Once upon a time. But we're not meant to be." He shrugged. "I just want her to be happy."

Will squinted his eyes, still not convinced.

"I'll get over it. I did once, I'll do it again." Dustin smiled sadly, taking a bite out of his hot dog. And he was right. Maybe it'd take a while, but he'd get over Max again. All he wanted was for her to be happy, and being her friend was more than enough for him.

/////

They headed back to the beach which was less crowded now, and managed to buy some sparklers.

El and Max twirled around, singing and dancing happily as they made shapes with the sparks.

Will and Mike had ended up having a fake fight, pretending they were using lightsabers instead of sparklers.

"I saw you and Max...the other night." Lucas said quietly to Dustin, who froze beside him.

"It's not what... we're not…" Dustin spluttered and Lucas put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's ok. I mean...I was upset. But I know it didn't mean anything."

"She was just confused." Dustin looked down at his sparkler. "And it was my fault for saying stuff I shouldn't have…"

"I get it. She was your first real crush. And I'm sorry it didn't work out. But you're my best friend, and I don't want anything to come between us."

"Never." Dustin looked up. "I'm sorry it happened but you know Max loves you right?"

"I know." Lucas nodded.

"We're still buddies right?"

"Always." Lucas reached out, hugging Dustin, awkwardly patting his back.

After a moment Dustin finally said, "You wanna join in their fight?"

He nodded over to Will and Mike, and Lucas smiled.

"Let's get them."

They ran at Mike and Will, all four of them shrieking. It was good to laugh again, the air cleared. Maybe they had grown up, maybe they had to deal with college and girlfriends, but deep down, they were still the same four boys. The party had grew over the years and for that they were truly grateful, but it was times like these that reminded them of the days when it was just them against the world. Maybe some things didn't change.

[aggimaginary]

The Grinch 2: Happy New Year Chapter 3-An Unusual Friend

In the afternoon, the Grinch and Cindy Lou successfully bought a box of fireworks from the store. They bought Fountain and Peony fireworks. They put the fireworks on a red wagon that Max dragged with behind him.

"Well, we finally bought the fireworks. Now, we have to buy you a new alarm clock," Cindy Lou reminded.

The Grinch chuckled, pulling a list from his pocket, "How could I forget that?" Then, he noticed something from the twins. He reached for the firework before Buster bite it, "No, no, no. Fireworks are not food."

"Wow, you just took care of the twins, you already know how keep them safe," The little girl commented.

"Of course, I do. I don't want kids to get hurt," He answered.

"So…, are you ready to become… a parent?"

"WHAT?! Hey, if this is because your friend told you that I'm gonna your new dad, that's not gonna happen."

"Alright, whatever you say."

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Above a big house, a green portal was opened, and Aggie came out of their with her sled. She fell with her sled, and started to slide down every roof of the town.

"Alright, all I have to do now is to know this town before finding a friendship problem..." Aggie said to herself, until a poster hit her face. Aggie pulled the poster from her face, and read it. "Wow! There's my answer. 'Whoville, the most joyful and friendly town in the world'." Now, the girl became curious. "Hmm, if this is a joyful and friendly town, why the element sent me here?" She then reached for her interdimensional remote control from her bag. "Guess I'm in the wrong world or wrong place…"

But then, her slide became bouncy as she slid from roof to roof, then slid through a window of a house, where she saw two people eating their lunch, "Have a nice lunch!" Aggie said politely. When her sled slid up high on a ramp into the air, she accidentally released the remote from her hand. "OH NO! MY REMOTE!"

When Aggie got separated from her remote, she fell and slid on the streamers, sent into mid-air, and fell again, but this time, she was heading straight towards a green figure, "Watch out below!"

Aggie bumped into the Grinch, knocking him down with her sled, and she was on the other side. The twins just laughed and squealed at the Grinch, while Cindy Lou rushed to help him up.

"Mr. Grinch! Are you okay?" She grabbed his arm to help him up.

Aggie, on the other, was desperate that she lost one of her important things, "No! My remote!"

The Grinch got up from the snow, and grunted, "Why is this always happened to me?" Then, he turned to Aggie angrily, "What is wrong with you? Didn't you see me? That was a sled, and… well, I'll be dead, and you almost hurt the children!"

"I'm sorry for bumping into you, mister, really, but this is really important. Have you seen my remote?" Aggie asked.

"Remote? What remote? If you're looking for a remote for are television or any gadgets, there are some at the Remote store," the Grinch threw the sled on the snow beside Aggie.

"No, you don't understand. This isn't just a remote, this is the remote. The one that I owned," the young woman explained.

"What does it look like, miss?" Cindy Lou asked.

"Well, it's olive green with two buttons, a light blue screen and an antenna, which is used to open a portal through different dimensions."

"Well, I never seen or heard that remote in my life, so my friends and I better go and we'll get out of your hair," the Grinch said as he pushed the baby stroller.

When he stepped into something under the snow, a green energy ray just blasted from it, creating a green portal in front of them. The Grinch and Max were frightened as they took a step back with the stroller where the twins are, and Cindy Lou grabbed tightly around the Grinch.

Aggie recognized that portal as she rushed towards it, "Oh, there it is!" She snatched something under the snow, the remote, and switched it off, closing the portal. "There! That oughta do it!"

The Grinch's fear faded as he stared at the woman with wings, "What was that?"

"That's just a portal. It's like a door to a different dimension," Aggie replied.

"And that you're holding?"

"This is an interdimensional remote control. This device can open portals to any world you want to go in the universe."

The Grinch just froze right there. When he saw that portal, it brought back the memories that he had long forgotten. He never saw that portal for 53 years. Then, when he looked back at the woman, he thought that he knew her before, and he knew that enthusiastic face years ago.

"You look familiar," He almost can't put his finger on. "Have we met before?"

Aggie was quite confuse. For her, she never met this green fellow before, "Huh?"

The Grinch shook his head, "No. Nevermind. You're a girl. You can't be him."

"'Him' who?" Aggie inquired.

"No one. It's not important." The Grinch then noticed the wings that he can't ignore it. "What's with the wings? It's not Halloween, you know."

"Oh, this isn't a costume, mister, I was born with these," Aggie said.

Then, Cindy Lou gasped and impressed, "This means, you're a fairy?"

"Not exactly, little lady. You see, both of my parents or even my families aren't fairies, but I got these when a fairy life was sent to me, and I was born with these."

"Wow! You have wings since birth? Cool. I wish I have a pair of those."

However, the Grinch thought the woman is crazy and what she said is ridiculous, "Ugh. Yes, it's cool, but I still think those wings are fake. But, just to ask, why are you here and what is your purpose?"

Aggie giggled nervously, "Umm, it's a long story and complicated…"

"We've got time."

She started to clear throat to explain a full story, "Okay, well, I'm the leader of the heroic team of the universe. We are called the Imaginary team. We lived in different worlds, and we stayed friends. Our job is to fight crime, and spread love and friendship in the universe by travelling from one world to another. It's like Dimension travel. Now, I came here because I have a mission…"

"What kind of mission?" Cindy Lou inquired.

"A mission that I have to fix. According to my element, right here…," Aggie pointed her element shard on her ID necklace, "When it's blinking, which it was earlier before I got here, that means there's a friendship problem, and it's my duty to solve it."

"So, let me get this straight: you're a young woman with "wings", came from another world because you have some sort of mission." Grinch summarized Aggie's explanation.

Aggie nodded, "Yeah, that's sort of it. A mission about a friendship problem that I have to fix."

"Okay. That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard in my life." Then, the Grinch turned to Cindy Lou, "Come on, kid. Let's go before anything crazy might happen."

When the Grinch left with the baby stroller, Cindy Lou started to follow him, not before saying to Aggie, "I hope you'll find what you're looking for around here, miss."

"I hope so, too," Aggie sighed. "I'll see you around, little girl."

"Good-bye," Cindy Lou waved at her.

Then, Max looked back at Aggie before following his master.

"Bye, little doggy," she waved at the dog. When she picked up her sled, it turned back into a wand staff, and put the remote back in her bag. "Well, I sure hope I can find a friendship problem in this town." Aggie walked away to find a problem she has to solve.

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At the clock store, the Grinch, Cindy Lou and Max entered with the twins while talking about Aggie.

"Do you think that woman is lying, don't you?" Cindy Lou asked.

"I never said she was lying," the Grinch replied. "I just don't believe on this 'Dimension travel' and 'many worlds' and stuff."

"Well, I believe that."

"What makes you say that? Have you been travelling to another world or something before?"

"No, but in my Science class, my teacher said that there are more than one world out there. Our world isn't the only one in the whole universe. And besides, that lady doesn't look like a Who. I mean, I never seen her before. It's like she's not from here at all."

"Well, she's only here to solve a friendship problem out there that we didn't even know."

"Okay. So, we have lots of clocks here. Which one do you like?"

When Cindy Lou reminded him about a new alarm clock, the Grinch search for it in ever aisle. Then, he spotted an alarm clock that looks just like his old one. "Hmm… what about this one?" When he took a look at the clock, he played the clock's alarm sounds randomly. Some are happy songs, some are also Christmas songs. "I think this is perfect."

When the Grinch bought the new alarm clock, he put it on the wagon with the boxes of fireworks, and they all headed outside the shop.

"Well, we finally bought what we needed. Can we go back to your house now?" the Grinch, almost feeling tired.

"No! We must get your new alarm clock back to your cave so it would get broken easily," Cindy Lou suggested.

"Y-You mean, in my place?" the Grinch wasn't so sure to go back to his cave with children. His place was quite cold at the afternoon and almost sunset. The kids might be freezing later. "I don't know. What about the babies? They'll get freeze up there, and your mom would very worried about you three."

"Just a short while. Besides, it's 3:30, and the twins can stay warm as long as they wore their winter clothes. We have extra time. And mom wouldn't be home until nine tonight. Pleeeeeeeaaaaaaaase. Just today," Cindy Lou begged, making a pouty face.

The Grinch still refused with this idea, but when he saw Cindy Lou's big teary cute puppy eyes, he groaned in defeat and said, "Fine. We'll go to my place."

"YAY!" The little girl cheered.

"But only after I'm going to put my alarm clock in my bedroom. And then, we all can go back to your home, got it?" the green fellow added.

"Okay. That's cool," Cindy Lou nodded.

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It's been a long way to walk to Mt. Crumpit as the Grinch, still pushing the baby stroller, Cindy Lou and Max, still dragging the wagon full of boxes of fireworks and an alarm clock, traveled all the way up by just taking a snowy slope path up to the Grinch's cave.

As they travel up the mountain, there was a moderate cold wind blowing at their faces. Feeling concern for the infants, the Grinch checked on Bean and Buster to see if they're still warm, and if their winter clothes are still warming them up. They continued to walk up the mountain, until they reached the Grinch's cave.

When he brought the children and Max inside to keep them warm from the cold breeze, while the Grinch placed his new alarm clock on the drawer in his bedroon, Max and Cindy Lou arranged the fireworks they bought in each boxes so they won't mix up.

Once they're done, they headed outside, and the Grinch locked his door.

"Well, I guess our work here is done," he said, the stretched out his back. "Boy, I've been pushing the baby stroller for a whole day now."

"Is it okay that it's my turn to push the stroller?" Cindy Lou volunteered.

The Grinch chuckled, but didn't want to give the kid a hard time, "Cindy Lou, you're still little to push two babies in a stroller. Are you sure you can do it?"

"Yeah, I can do it," Cindy Lou answered, quite offended. "I've been helping my mother ever since Dad died. I know how to push the stroller, I know how to take care of the twins… They're my brothers, and I love them. I know how to take care of them."

"It's not because I don't trust you. It's because I don't want you to being so hard on yourself."

While his master and his friend are in a conversation, Max just noticed the baby stroller with the twins suddenly started to slide down the snowy slop path. Max barked to warn the Grinch and Cindy Lou about the babies.

"Not now, Max," the Grinch held his hand at his dog.

"Come on, Mr. Grinch. I want to show Mom that I can be a responsible big sister for my brothers. Please!" Cindy Lou made a pouty face again.

The Grinch groaned in frustration as he was defeated again by the little girl's sad face, "Alright, alright! Just don't make that face again!"

"Deal!" Cindy Lou gave him a thumb-up.

But when the two turned around, they realized the baby stroller is gone.

"Umm, where's the stroller?" the Grinch inquired.

Max then barked in respond as he pointed the stroller rolling down slide.

"Oh no! Bean! Buster!" Cindy Lou cried as she ran down the pathway.

The Grinch and Max followed as they ran as fast as they can, hoping to reach for the baby stroller.

"Oh dear. Your mother is gonna hate me for this!" The Grinch shouted in panic.

While the stroller kept on running, the twins were enjoying the ride, and squealed in excitement.

The Grinch, Cindy Lou and Max were just halfway, but they got tired from running and panted heavily.

"Oh, they're now far. We'll never catch them in time," Cindy Lou was devastated in fear for her brothers.

Just then, they heard a reindeer sound from behind them. The three turned around and saw Fred the reindeer with his mate child, happy to see his master again.

"Fred?" the Grinch gasped in disbelief. Sure, the reindeer and his family came to help him yesterday on Christmas, but he didn't expect that the reindeer came to visit him surprisingly.

"Aawwww, you have reindeer?" Cindy Lou rushed towards the reindeer family, and patted the baby reindeer's head.

The Grinch slowly walked towards Fred, and rubbed his muzzle, "You still came back for me." The reindeer then nuzzled closer to his master, "I missed you too, boy," Grinch returned the affection.

Just then, Cindy Lou just realized something as she turned to the Grinch, "I have an idea."

A moment later, Max and the baby reindeer were running together down the snowy slope, while Cindy Lou, who was having fun, rode on the female reindeer, and the Grinch rode on Fred, but he held on tightly so he won't fall.

"HEEEEEEEEELP!" He screamed.

Meanwhile, Aggie was having a hard time, trying to find a friendship problem in Whoville, but she found nothing. Everyone in this town is cheerful and friendly, and no one seemed to have problems with their friends and family.

She was now at the bottom of Mt. Crumpit, just at the end of the snowy slope "Darn it! It's been hours, and I can't find any friendship problem!" She yelled at herself. "Oh, why did my element send me here?" Unfortunately, she didn't notice that a baby stroller is coming straight for her.

At the slope, the reindeer ran as fast as they can for the Grinch, Cindy Lou and Max to reach for the stroller.

It's impossible to reach the stroller in time. Cindy Lou saw Aggie at the bottom of the slope that she didn't notice the stroller behind her.

"Look out, miss!" she called.

Aggie heard that familiar voice as she turned around and saw a baby stroller with two infants coming towards her. She gasped as she thought of something to stop the stroller and save the babies. When she got an idea, she took out her wand staff, pointed in front of her, and recited the spell, "GIANT MARSHMALLOW PILLOW!"

A gigantic marshmallow appeared between the running stroller and Aggie from the wand staff, and the stroller was stopped when it hit the marshmallow. The twins are safe and squealed happily for that fun ride.

Cindy Lou, Max and the reindeer were impressed and amazed when the woman magically made a giant marshmallow to stop the stroller.

"Wow! Is that a big marshmallow?" Cindy Lou hopped off the female reindeer and rushed for Aggie. "Thank you so much for saving my brothers."

"Aww, it was nothing," Aggie said. "Here, have a marshmallow. It's edible, delicious and non-poisonous."

Cindy Lou and the baby reindeer bit on the marshmallow, Max just licked it, and the twins were gnawing at it since they only have buckteeth. When he hopped off of Fred, the Grinch was so amazed by the young woman's magic and how she ever stopped the stroller and saving the twins on her own with a giant marshmallow. He never saw that kind of magic before. He started to believe that this woman indeed from another dimension or world as he slowly approached her.

"That… that was incredible," He said.

Aggie clutched tightly on her wand staff, "Thanks, but it was no big deal."

"It IS a big deal! I mean, you saved the babies, created a giant marshmallow, and you're able to save yourself," the Grinch responded.

"If the little girl didn't warn me, I could be crashed." The young woman replied.

"How did you make this marshmallow, anyway?" Cindy Lou asked.

"It's one of my spells of my magical family heirloom, the wand staff," Aggie explained. "I can summon anything, as long I recite the spell correctly."

"Who are you, exactly?" the Grinch asked.

"Oh, sorry. I forgot to introduce myself," Aggie blushed embarrassingly. "Hi, I'm Aggie, short for Agatha. My full name is Agatha Besares Mondejar Resano Borra Galido. Still just call me Aggie."

"It's really nice to meet you, Aggie. My name is Grinch," He introduced himself. "This is my dog, Max…"

The dog jumped onto Aggie, and licked her happily.

"Whoa! It's nice to meet you, Max," Aggie laughed.

"And this is my friend, Cindy Lou," the Grinch pointed Cindy Lou, who was checking on her brothers.

"And these are my brothers, Bean and Buster," She added.

"Aww, they're so cute!" Aggie adorned the twins' cuteness. Then, she turned to look at the reindeer family, "What about them?"

"Umm, the big reindeer is Fred, and his family," the Grinch explained.

"Aww, so sweet!" Aggie's eyes started to sparkle, "You know, I have a friend name Fred. He was also from another world, just few friends, and I'm one of them."

"That's a coincidence." Grinch chuckled. "So, you really are from another world."

"My family and friends called me 'Magical girl from another dimension!' Aggie made a rainbow with her wand staff, and several cute creatures appeared around her. The rainbow suddenly bursts into flames, and the cute creatures ran away. "That's my title if I'm in different dimensions other than my own."

"So, is your world magical?" Cindy Lou grinned in excitement.

"Umm, no, you see, my world is just as normal as yours here. I was born with wings, and I have no friends at all, because I'm so different. So, my dad invented the remote I brought earlier so I can make new friends in other worlds and dimensions. When I did, I created the Imaginary team so we can always be friends. Once they trained to be a better person, like flying, martial arts and using of powers, my friends shared half of their powers and magic to me, making me the leader. So, I became the most powerful human in my home world," Aggie explained.

"Humans?" The little girl wasn't familiar with that word.

Aggie looked at her suspiciously, "Isn't that what you guys called yourselves?"

"We are called the Whos."

"Okay? Maybe they're still the same."

"So, this means your weren't born powerful or magical? You were given by your friends from other worlds?" Grinch clarified.

"Yep," Aggie replied.

"So, what brings you here quite late, Ms. Aggie? Did you find what you've been looking for?" Cindy Lou questioned.

Aggie sighed sadly, "No. I've searched everywhere. There's no friendship problem in your town. Everyone has no problem with their friends and family. It's so impossible!"

"Maybe you came into the wrong world," the Grinch said.

"That's what I've been thinking, but my element assured that this is the world with a problem," Aggie answered. "I just can't find it yet."

"Maybe you can find it tomorrow. It's getting late."

"Yeah, you're right. It's almost 6:00, anyway."

Cindy Lou's eyes widened, "6:00? We have to go home before mom gets home. She'll be worried if she finds out we're not home."

"You're right! Come on, let's get back to town," the Grinch pulled the baby stroller from the marshmallow, and slowly pushed it towards the town, while Cindy Lou, Max and Aggie followed.

"Bye Fred," Cindy Lou waved goodbye at the reindeer family before walking away.

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When they made it to town, the Grinch just spotted something in the flower shop, and that gave him a generous idea.

"Cindy Lou, watch over your brothers for a moment, Max, keep an eye on the kids, and Aggie… try not to do anything crazy," he said before rushing towards the flower shop.

"He didn't know I'll never do anything crazy," Aggie murmured with her arms crossed.

"Why is he going to the flower shop? Why does he need flowers?" Cindy Lou asked.

"I just met him, so I have no idea." The young woman replied.

A minute later, the Grinch got out of the flower shop with a long box on his hands.

"Okay. Sorry about that, but we're ready to go, and…" Before he could finish his sentence of explanation to Cindy Lou, the Grinch noticed something different about Aggie. "Aggie, are you… floating?"

He noticed that Aggie's feet are no longer on the ground as Cindy Lou and Max turned to see her floating and her wings flapped.

"I'm tired of standing and walking, so I fly a little," Aggie explained.

The Grinch just froze in shock that he saw her fly. He never believed they are real wings at first, but when he saw Aggie flying with his own eyes, he was wrong, "Okay. I guess those wings weren't fake after all."

"Don't worry, I got use to it. New friends said that about me, every time," She said. "Now, are we ready to go or what?"

"I'll push the stroller," Cindy Lou quickly rushed to the stroller, and pushed it carefully, trying not to drop her brothers from it. "Watch out, big sister coming through!"