#anything can happen on international women's day / ooc

[fakesimp]

Koninnit!

Can I pretty please request headcanons for (Luxiem) with a flat chested reader that constantly likes to confuse people with her gender (like dressing up as a boy one day and the next day she's looking like a model?)

Totally not self indulgent I think this is fun, feel free to ignore this tho! Have a awesome day/ night/ afternoon

Crossdressing, With Luxiem

Warning !

Fluff ; Crack ; Mentions of Crossdressing ; Fem ! Reader

A/n !

Haiwo ! Sorry it took a while for me to answer this.. (⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠) but I do hope you enjoy this ! Apologies in advance if they're ooc (⁠╯⁠︵⁠╰⁠,⁠)

➶◜◝➴

Vox Akuma

Is going to be confused.

When he first saw you, he was convinced that you're a guy !

He almost thought that he was gay when his heart skip a beat when he sees you.

He started to question himself internally, but if he is turning out gay for you. He doesn't mind.

And then the next day comes, only for him not to see you anywhere.

Or so he thought.

He sees you as a whole different person, like what in the sorcery magic did you do to yourself over night????

You were a guy yesterday, how did you become a damn sexy woman the next day?????

He's going to ask his friends about it, definitely not convinced you are the same guy he sees yesterday.

Until he finally manage to see your face clearly, you were confused why is he staring so closely at you.

"What happened to you? What did you do to yourself??"

"Uh? Elaborate???"

"I was convinced that I was gay."

"?????????? "

But after knowing you can be both handsomely hot, and be sexy woman-

He's such a sucker for you, you know how he is with ike? Yeah, but to you instead.

Mysta Rias

He was amazed how cool you looked when he first sees you.

He would steal glances at you.

Would also be confused why is his heart beating so fast for a guy?

Is he gay now? What-

The next day comes, when he walked pass you, he stopped.

He turned around and stared at your back, confused.

Your face seems familiar, at first he thought that you had a twin.

He had that thought almost a week until one day, he asked you about it

"Hey, where's your twin?"

"Twin??? What in the actual- I'm the only child in the family, what makes you think I have a twin?"

"Huh????? Then, what happened to you- the dude? Wha???"

"Ah.. About that."

He listened to you throughout the explaination about the crossdressing you do

He would definitely be amazed but still confused, at least you manage to explain to him that you're born as a female.

Don't worry, he's taking his time to get used to you changing your, ...gender? No, fashion?

"I really need to get used to you being both a guy and a woman."

"You'll manage."

Luca Kaneshiro

This man.

He noticed, but he won't say anything about it. For now.

He would just go on with the day like usual, talking and joked around with you and his friends.

Till one day he asked about it,

"Say, why do you, uh keep changing your fashion ?"

"What? ...Oh, just for fun you know"

"You're changing yourself from men to women for fun???? Pog!"

It doesn't really bother him honestly, he cheers you on for it !

Wouldn't ask much about it since you seems happy with what you're doing so it doesn't really bother the man

Unless something happened that made you uncomfy, he'll come and save the day ! Like a golden boi he is.

"What's wrong? Did something happened? Don't worry! I'll fight them off if somebody pick up on your fashion!"

Ike Eveland

It would genuinely surprise him.

But he'll definitely support you ! As long as you're happy with what you're doing

He'll never judge you for it !

Though it would take sometime for him to get used to your fashion changes, but he will. Don't worry.

He's lowkey want to help you with it, but too shy to ask for it.

But if you actually asked his help, he's going to feel ecstatic about it

"Hey Ike? Can you lend me a hand?"

"M-my help? Sure! I'll do what I can!"

"Though... May, I ask you something? ..Why is it that you, like to dress yourself, as a boy? Oh! You don't have to answer me if that question made you uncomfortable!"

He's a good boy, he'll listen to your explanation if you do answer him

He'll apologize if you said that it is a bit of a sensitive topic

"Me? Oh I don't mind with you dressing up the way you are, as long as you're happy with it!"

Shu Yamino

Is questioning it but won't ask you about it

He'll probably keep quiet about it until you bought the topic up yourself

Even if the curiosity are eating him up, he doesn't want to intrude on your private life

If he finally got the chance, he'll shyly ask you about it

"Hey, ...sorry if this sounds offensive to you, but, I was wondering.. why, do you like to dress yourself like this?"

"Hm? Why do you ask?"

"O-oh! I was just, uh, a bit curious about it.. though you don't have to answer me if it's, a bit, uncomfortable for you to answer.."

He's genuinely curious, why would you dress yourself the opposite gender

And no he's not going to judge you about it, he'll definitely lend a hand if you need help

So don't be shy to ask for his help ! He'll try his best to help you !

"Oh! Hey, what's up? Hm? You need help? Sure, I'll help you, what do you need?"

©fakesimp . 2023

A/n !

THIS TAKE WAY TOO LONG IT HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR WAY TOO LONG I'M SO SORRY HUUU (⁠ ⁠≧⁠Д⁠≦⁠) ;;

[harmcomforts]

&.   EIGHT   PEOPLE   I’D   LIKE   TO   KNOW   BETTER !!

𝟎𝟏 .     ALIAS   /   NAME : :    bianca, i don’t go by an alias though i have gone by rosie in the past

𝟎𝟐 .     BIRTHDAY : :    june 27

𝟎𝟑 .     ZODIAC   SIGN : :   cancer sun babey and then aries moon + libra rising so i feel very chaotic 

𝟎𝟒 .     HEIGHT : :    5′3

𝟎𝟓 .     HOBBIES : :   writing, reading, watching shows/movies, knitting, cooking (i recently learned how to make dumplings)

𝟎𝟔 .     FAVOURITE   COLOUR : :  purple or green

𝟎𝟕 .     FAVOURITE   BOOK : :    not to be that girl but the bell jar by sylvia plath :/

𝟎𝟖 .     LAST   SONG : :   long highway by the jezabels... it is a fuckin classic 

𝟎𝟗 .     LAST   FILM   /   SHOW : :   i finished normal people the other day but i also just watched all 32 eps of game grumps playing doki doki literature club idk if that counts but it was a Lot

𝟏𝟎 .     INSPIRATION : :  most of the time it’s books or tv shows or movies, admittedly a lot of the time i want to emulate the feeling i get from a piece of media or i want to explore something my own way (read: i want to make it gay). music with lyrics that make me go bananas inspire me a lot so judge me all u want but fuck when taylor swift’s folklore came out i had such an influx of inspiration. sometimes i take things from real life too, a lot of my characters get their Parent Related Issues from me and my need to explore negative familial relationships. 

𝟏𝟏 .     STORY   BEHIND   URL : :   it’s just me taking two words from the quote “a child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort” from sharp objects. but it also kind of makes sense i guess by itself just like... harm comforts (me). it sounds edgier than i am but i just think that quote is so profound and i think sharp objects is... incredible. 

TAGGED BY : :   @tragedienes​ @gcminas​

TAGGING : :   i'm gonna just tag some random people sorry if u have done it @fixaticn @flawedwrites @deliirious @xonefamiliarsoul @sugarkick @whtsontv @grownwisteria @znosyns @distantxdaydreams 

[askthefuturegleeks]

Thank you for joining the campaign to bring the arts to future generations, HUNTER CLARINGTON, we’re happy to have you! If you want a refresher on what to do next, feel free to look at the WELCOME CHECKLIST. Please send your account in within the next 48 hours so that you can get started.    

ooc information NAME: C

AGE: 28+

PRONOUNS: she/her

SHIPS: Hunter/Chemistry

ANTI-SHIPS: Hunter/No Chemistry

basic ic information NAME: Hunter Christopher Clarington

BIRTHDAY/ZODIAC: April 28 + Taurus

CURRENT OCCUPATION: Junior Head of International Safety & Security at the United Nations

CURRENT LOCATION: New York

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

FC: Nolan Gerard Funk

twitter post @THECLARINGTONHUNTER: Sample Twitter post here. #FIRSTPOST

in character questions Answer these in character, and feel free to add gifs into your answers.

1.) What did you want to do with your life when you were younger? What would the child version of yourself think about the path you paved for yourself?

When I was younger and for the entirety of my life, I wanted to be in the United States Army. Initially, my goal was to climb the ranks as quickly and as efficiently as I could, and to retire from the service. Just like my father, and his father, and his father, and his father before that. I accomplished my goal to the best and best extent of my ability, and therefore I am quite secure in stating that my younger self would be pleased. My current position is not one that I ever would have aimed for, however under the circumstances I have done my best, and continue to serve my country in any manner I am able.

2.) What is your proudest accomplishment? Don’t be afraid to talk about what it took to achieve it and how you feel about it as well.

My proudest accomplishment was and is serving my country.

3.) If you could do anything you wanted for one whole day, what would it be and why?

I do exactly what I want every single day. Anyone who does not has obviously missed the plot.

where are they now?

-After Hunter was placed on trial for everything that happened at Dalton his parents were forced to pull a lot of strings to keep him out of any lasting trouble. In the end he was sent back to an even more strict military academy than the ones he had experienced before, where he was watched, trained, and drilled more than he had been in order to regain his focus and to remind him of what was important in life (at least to his family). While there he was court ordered to maintain a minimum of a 3.5 GPA, an impeccable behavioral record, and to complete 200 hours of community service. His parents made sure the latter was able to happen in as public of an eye as possible to ensure their image and his was somewhat cleaned up.

-After his graduation Hunter was allowed to attend an accelerated Bachelor's degree program, where he earned his degree in Political Science with focuses on Public Relations and Policy Analysis. He graduated in 2.5 years, and at the age of 20 was sent to the military to fulfill his Clarington destiny.

-Hunter was in the military for 9 years, and climbed to the rank of First Lieutenant. He loved everything about his job and his time in the military and felt that he was doing everything he had ever been meant to do, despite his blunders. He spent many years overseas, during which time he was exposed to war from the frontlines. It was during his time stationed in Afghanistan that himself and his platoon came under attack. Hunter saved as many men and women as he could, risking his own life to make sure his team made it out safely. He was unable to save two of his team members, and was gravely injured in the blast which claimed their lives.

-Following his injuries Hunter spent four months in a hospital, unable to leave the bed and enduring several surgeries on his shoulder, and completely losing his right leg. After he was discharged from the hospital he was forced to attend a live-in rehabilitation center, which claimed another six months of his life. Following that he was released, and was awarded both a Purple Heart and a Medal of Honor.

-Hunter was left embittered and heartbroken that his dream had come to such an end, and that his body no longer functioned or looked the way it always had, the way that he had taken such care to focus on, enhance, and maintain. With no idea what to do next, he became depressed, though it was something his parents would not allow for long. His father once again pulled some strings using Hunter's impeccable service record, and got him a high up job within the United Nations, using his degrees and his Military expertise to secure a position that would keep him involved in what had been his passion all his life.

-Hunter acts like he is better, that he has healed, but he has PTSD which he has never addressed and in fact flat-out refuses to do so. He is bitter, he is hurt, and he feels useless. He is harder on himself than anyone else ever could be, though he never opens up about his feelings, continuing to act as if everything is just fine. He maintains a steady pill habit, though it is a functional one.

[everything-laito]

I know you mostly do analyses, but do you have any particularly unique headcanons about Laito? It can be anything, strange, obscure, sad, funny... I'm just curious to know some of the ideas you have about him, regardless of if they are actually backed by canon or not. Sorry if this question is maybe a bit too general. But I figured since you spend a lot of time analyzing him, you probably have a ton of ideas people haven't asked about. So here's your chance! I wanna know!

OOOOO omg thanks so much for giving me this opportunity, anon!!! It means a lot that you wanna know my thoughts like this! I have some crack headcanons and some legitimate ones, and some in between! 

When/if I have more that I make or remember, I’ll reblog this to add on probably too! 

Corn’s headcanons under the cut! (One is NSFW so just a warning)

- I’ve always found this interesting, but there doesn’t seem to be modern technology in the Sakamaki mansion. The only thing modern I’ve seen in any DL scene was probably Kino’s phone in Lost Eden and in some Tokutens. Considering Laito is a dork and loves crossword puzzles and plays darts and billiards, I love to imagine that he doesn’t know how to work around modern technology. Sure he’s smart as hell but I just love thinking about him being a boomer when it comes to that stuff hgalsdkjf 

- Idk if this is counts as a (crack) headcanon or not, but you’d have to be really careful to bring Laito on a picnic date or something. It would be really cute, but he doesn’t like bugs. But man I find his fear of bugs kinda cute not gonna lie hehe.

- I believe I have mentioned that I have a headcanon that he’d be a theater kid. Another anon also mentioned this a while back too, and I freaking LOVE that idea oh my god; here’s the original post developing on that too!

- Kinda another crack headcanon but we know Laito isn’t afraid of feminine things like he straight up has an entire closet of women’s clothing; I don’t think he clarified if it’s for himself or his partners _(:3 」∠)_ but he wore the Alice costume,,,, so I also think he has other ““feminine”” interests. Like I really wanna see him read Shoujo manga. I don’t think that would be ooc at all imo LOL

- Laito and Kou can do makeup; Kou more than Laito, but again. Laito has a cosplay/roleplay closet. Come on. We know he goes full into stuff.

- Which again all of this supports the Laito being a theater kid headcanon LOL! I also think he’d try to dress up Ayato (and maybe Kanato?) when they were kids aakdjsdjj

- I guess this is another crack headcanon cuz I love Laito’s dorky nature but I think he full on has a dictionary in his room somewhere for crossword puzzles when he can’t think of a word, just in case.

- I wanna think that he was already was afraid of spiders when he was a kid but it got worse when Ayato kept pranking him with bugs or telling Laito horror stories related to bugs lol

- As for the NSFW side of things that I haven’t seen mentioned before; I think he’s into some form of somnophilia akdkskjdsj but again he likes it when they resist. But kinda like a spider, his “prey” would wake up in the middle of whatever he was doing to them and he’d get his high off of them resisting then when it’s too late oops. However I don’t rly think of NSFW hcs too often

- I feel like some of the new girls (or maybe some boys heh) at school initially had a crush on him but then was deterred by other girls who were like “no don’t” (LOL now that I realize it, similar shit happened in college; I was one of the girls who was warning the freshmen)

- going off of that I think he (and probably every other diaboy going to that school) has a secret fan club. Kou’s is obviously the biggest but I definitely think there’s a group of girls (and maybe a boy or two) that don’t heed the Laito warnings. Maybe they put little letters in his locker or something. Regardless he’d know who they are after a short period of time. Would he do something? Probably not, he could get caught if he made any of them his actual vampire shenanigans victim. But subtlety tease them??? Maybe some more??? Oh you fuckin bet.

- After his first wave of feeling his true emotions (like in MB ecstasy) he didn’t know how to truly express them. So I think he’d definitely play the piano a lot afterwards. Is it a distraction or expressing himself? Or both? And did I get inspired by the DL fic, “The Days That’ll Never Come?” Yes. Yes I did. I also think that he writes his own songs. Some with lyrics, some without, but man, I think he could freeform like a mad lad. Since song lyrics are pretty much poetry, I think he has some poems lying around here and there. But poor thing doesn’t know how to properly take care of himself emotionally ;(

-This was confirmed in one of those 4 Koma manga for More,More Blood, but it came to no surprise that Laito went through stuff in the attic for blackmail on all his brothers lmaoooooo what a fucking troll I love this man. Going off of that he’d definitely pull pranks with Ayato. And some on Ayato lol.

- basically yeah I view Laito as a deep, artistic, internally depressed dork. Sure he’s into some sexual stuff obviously but I like talking about how he’s like/how he might be like when there’s not a sacrifice in the house :) I love talking about his dorky side too much tho omg

I think that’s all I could think of for now! Lol this took me a couple of weeks to compile haha, but thanks again for giving me the opportunity, anon! If I think of any more I’ll definitely add them :)

Have a lovely day!

~ Corn

[theawkwardterrier]

my whole trajectory's toward you, and it's not losing momentum (call it anything we want)

Summary: Anthony had expected a certain amount of trouble when he took over managing the Danbury campaign. He didn’t imagine this amount. He didn’t imagine that it might at some point become something other than trouble.

There was mention of rival political campaign managers Kate and Anthony and even though I couldn’t quite get there - or make a scene happen which directly featured Newton 😔 - I did manage rivals and political campaigning. So here’s something to serve as incentive, congratulation, or brief respite depending on how far @thesokovianaccords​ has gotten in her grad school application process. Sorry if it’s a bit OOC, Livia - maybe it’s just the right degree to make sense in a modern AU? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Read on AO3

A week into running Dr. Danbury’s campaign, Anthony realizes that he has made a grave error in allowing himself to give in when his mother requested “a bit of a favor.”

At the time she’d asked, he had just gotten the news that his previous candidate was dropping out of his own race for health reasons, and of course, Dr. Danbury has been a fixture for his entire life so he might well have stepped up merely because she needed help (despite knowing that the reason she needed the help was that she’d fired her entire previous campaign team). Besides that, he has rarely been able to deny his mother anything, and that’s even before she brings up the number of hours she spent in labor with him (twenty-two, as he well knows by now) but still...he damn well should have ignored all that this time.

For his money, the most annoying part of not being listened to by the candidate is that her instincts have mostly served her well. Three days after he started, she ignored the common wisdom of maintaining decorum and not insulting the opposition which he had reminded her of before she went on camera, and had only benefited from it; apparently the majority of the constituency agreed that the particular candidate she had been asked about was indeed a “first class wanker who should pray nightly for the brains God gave a goose.” At least she had heeded Anthony’s advice to refer to the man as “my opponent” rather than using his name and giving him free advertising in the soundbite as it was played on nearly every news broadcast for the next several days.

“Well, we seem to have come out of this one all right,” she says, sipping her coffee and looking just the slightest bit smug - he doesn’t lie to candidates, so he had been obliged to report that the latest polling numbers actually went up after the incident. “Anything else, Bridgerton?”

Swallowing the speech he wants to give about how easily things could shift during a campaign, not to mention the difference between what people told a pollster and how they actually cast their votes, he says, “Perhaps we might look to hire a policy director, ma’am? To help...guide the campaign a bit more?”

“If we did, I should wonder what I had hired you for.” She looks at him over the tops of her glasses as if she can tell he is dreaming of responding that ah, well, it seems he is unnecessary, and perhaps he will just excuse himself from the position now. He makes sure his expression remains neutral and finally she waves a hand. “Well, let me see some names and CVs after the weekend, and I shall decide then.”

“Very good.” He extremely purposefully does not sigh until he is out of her office and striding along the corridor of their campaign headquarters. There are plenty of people who will take a call from him on short notice and who will back him with the candidate. Yes, if he can’t quit altogether (and he can’t if he wants his regular seat at Christmas dinner) then having someone in his corner is just the ticket.

He arrives for work on Monday even earlier than his traditional first thing in the morning, wondering to himself whether it will be better to simply present his top applicants or if he should throw in a decoy or two to make his choices shine even brighter - although perhaps that’s just the sort of ploy that the candidate would sniff out in a heartbeat after a career of wrangling university students. Still debating, he turns the corner toward his office, only to find Dr. Danbury in the hall outside, speaking with someone. Anthony doesn’t recognize the person from the back, can only see a fall of shiny, dark hair, so he guesses it is one of the volunteers, perhaps someone new who has arrived early for orientation. He hopes that Dr. Danbury isn’t being too intimidating.

“Ah, Bridgerton,” the lady in question calls down the hallway, and something about her tone makes Anthony’s spine go straight. “Good morning.”

Still, he clings to his good mood as he greets her. “Let me put my things down, and then we can go over your schedule for the day. And I have those CVs you had requested as well.”

“Nevermind those,” she says, and the little smile on her lips makes every one of his nerves stand on end. “Did you know that your mother and I went out for a drink on Friday evening? Oh, yes, we had a wonderful time, and your brother Colin came around to escort us home. Such a lovely boy, had some delightful stories about his trip to Greece - and so interested in the campaign. In fact, he had a brilliant thought when I mentioned your idea for bringing on someone new to help shape things alongside the two of us.”

Whatever virtues his brother Colin might possess, interest in the campaign is absolutely not among them. Skin humming all over, Anthony manages a casual, “Oh?”

“Indeed, and luckily I was able to organize it all over the weekend so you wouldn’t have to do a thing.” She gestures toward her companion, and with a sick swoop in his stomach, Anthony knows who he is going to see before she shifts around.

“I believe you two have met before?” Dr. Danbury says, voice fading just a bit beneath the static in Anthony’s ears as Kate Sheffield turns to face him.

They have not actually met before, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t know of each other.

The first time Anthony heard her name, it was her sister saying it - about twenty times in a row, if he’s being honest. He met Edie Sheffield two years back at one of his mother’s galas. Edie ran a different prestigious kids charity than the one Mum was fundraising for, so he’d wondered if inviting her was somehow inviting the enemy or maybe bragging. But Edie was sweet, and passionate about her job, and looked absolutely gorgeous in sapphire satin, and he settled into a night of getting her drinks and chatting her up, despite the fact that she didn’t seem as interested in speaking with him as she did in mentioning that he really must talk with her sister.

He’d stayed the night in the hotel where the gala had been held (alone, in one of the rooms which had been set aside for guests from the event; he’d put Edie in a car at about 11) and was planning on taking his mother to breakfast after she came down from her own room. When he went to check out, however, the desk attendant handed him a message which had been taken down for him on hotel stationary.

Dickheads like you shouldn’t try to get with my sister. Don’t do it again.

KS

“Is there anything else that I can assist you with?” asked the attendant, holding onto her poker face remarkably. Perhaps they taught that in hospitality programs.

He’d crushed the note in his hand before smoothing his own face placidly and handing over his credit card. His mother was all smiles and chatter during breakfast, but his mind was still on the note, which seemed to have burned itself behind his eyelids.

Dickheads like you - oh, so only other types of dickheads need apply? And get with? Were they twelve years old and couldn’t use grownup words? Not to mention the signature, such as it was. Trying to play mafia boss, expecting that he’d know who had sent it. He did, but it took a lot of bloody gall to assume that he would.

Not as much gall as Don’t do it again. He couldn’t even think of that part, the demeaning certainty of it, without a certain vein beginning to throb in his forehead.

In the two years since, he found himself falling back into analysis of the note - it was barely more than a dozen words, so how could there still be so much to parse? - whenever her name came up, which became more and more frequent as she moved from nothing campaigns in the most forgotten corners of the country to deputy deputy whatever on somewhat more consequential ones. She was gaining a reputation among his peers. They said she was smart and canny, that she had a knack for looking at the bigger picture and acting on her instincts.

(Someone who’d once worked with her had also mentioned that it helped that she didn’t have a high opinion of her looks, didn’t flaunt herself the way some women did around the office - she certainly didn’t have a reason to do so, but sometimes that didn’t stop them.

“Oh, be fair,” said the other man. “She does have quite a nice—”

They’d shut up when he’d walked into the room - everyone knew better than to talk that way around him, and it wasn’t just because of “all those sisters” the way some people said. Eloise had been interning with the campaign that summer, and for the rest of the day while he’d talked with human resources, he’d let her make mistakes on all of their lunch and coffee orders and give them the wrong data for their reports when they’d made her look it up instead of doing it themselves. When he’d fired them, he spread the word on why, but left the particulars out of it.)

The note returns to his mind whenever someone new has their one experience of suggesting Kate Sheffield as a potential hire, or when he thinks he’s seen her in the background of some press conference or event for another candidate, or if he runs into Edie at another charity function, where he absolutely does not flirt with her just that extra bit harder while part of his mind thinks Your move directly toward her sister who he has never actually met in person.

Until now.

“We’re acquainted,” he tells Dr. Danbury, managing to remain polite by avoiding Kate’s gaze. He leaves it at that.

They’re the first two in the conference room for the all-staff the next morning, and somehow he’s not surprised.

“Good morning,” he says as he comes in to find her over by the coffee. She’s doctoring it significantly, clearly already familiar with the quality to be found in a campaign office. He always buys his own; he can’t stand the amount of milk and sugar and oddly flavored creamers required to make the other stuff palatable (and don’t even get him started on the alleged tea).

Tone cool, she replies, “Mr. Bridgerton,” and takes a sip from her mug.

It isn’t as if the staff goes around calling him “Tony” or “boss,” and only the most knock-kneed newcomers call him “sir.” He’s Anthony to most. He has no inclination to correct her.

He works to keep his tone casual and courteous as usual when he introduces her to everyone (“And this is Kate Sheffield, who will be doing some consulting for us”) but something about it must catch Dr. Danbury’s attention, because she raises an eyebrow at him from her end of the table and rests both hands atop her stick.

The fact that the candidate is aware that something is going on between the two of them makes it all the more exasperating when two days later she signs off on Kate’s media and advertising plan over his own. He shows up for dinner with Daphne and Simon that evening as planned, knowing that Daphne would be completely willing to pull the pregnancy card if he tried to get out of it, but she sends him home before the waiter has brought the dessert menus because he keeps muttering about how more people travel by tube and railways and for longer distances but are more likely to take more individual rides on buses and what that means for posting print ads.

(The numbers are seared into his mind, considering she’d included a full breakdown with three kinds of graphs and bloody footnotes in her presentation.)

Getting released from the restaurant early gives him extra time to go back to the office for a bit and put together a preliminary get out the vote strategy. He calls in several favors as a part of it, including one from an old friend of his father’s who asks incredulously, “Really? For this?” clearly wondering whether Anthony’s reputation is deserved if he’s pulling out all the stops for something so routine.

It’s well worth it, however, when Dr. Danbury raises an eyebrow as she looks over the document he’d put together, and tells him, “Well done, Bridgerton, very well done indeed. I think this shall do nicely.”

He does not even glance toward Kate; there really isn’t any need to gloat.

Well, one tiny peek won’t hurt.

Her jaw is set and her eyes are flinty, but she gives him just the slightest nod, as if to say that he might have won this round, but she’d like to see him try the next one.

Just before three in the morning, he wakes himself, panting, from a dream that makes him think he might have to report himself for workplace sexual harassment.

“I would have hoped you’d have better self-preservation instincts,” he says aloud to his body. “Or at least better taste.”

Collapsing back against the pillows, he pushes his mind toward images of ex-girlfriends and celebrities, but no, there is Kate, strong and challenging and gorgeous above him, a vivid afterimage that refuses to go away, and he sighs and gives into it, trying to set himself to rights so he can get past this and find at least a bit more sleep.

Anthony has never been the sort of boss who shouts at people in the office - he has always tended toward cold anger and “you know what you’ve done, now fix it” stares, and doesn’t intend to act differently now. But as he stalks over to Kate’s desk, he finds a fiercer anger taking over, just a bit.

“You changed my media statement,” he says, voice silken with it as he leans his palms down on her desktop and rests his weight on them. He is speaking low, the words just for her, although his eyes roam over the others moving busily around the main space of the office.

She turns her chair slightly, so that he feels the brush of her hair on his forearms where his sleeves are rolled up; it shifts his attention fully in her direction. Her hair tie had snapped earlier, and the thick topknot she tried twisting for herself has collapsed, leaving it free around her shoulders. He snaps himself back from examining the shining curls as she says, “Yes, I did.”

Part of him admires her straightforwardness, that she takes responsibility without even trying to deny it. The other part...well, the anger hasn’t exactly disappeared.

In a level tone which would have his siblings looking over in alarm, he says. “I had worked that statement out with the entire communications department.”

“The entire communications department does what you tell them to do. It’s what you pay them for.”

“And what, exactly, do I pay you for?”

They are facing each other now, their bodies a bit too close for it. She is looking directly at him, voice sharp and clear as glass. “I was hired by the candidate, to help run the campaign that she wants. Your statement was just a polite walkback of her words.”

He has the sudden thought that the brown of her eyes could be warm, that her gaze probably is warm when she’s looking at her sister or the dog whose photo she has framed on her desk (a plump, panting little corgi wearing a bright blue bow tie, absurd), but he’s never seen her that way. He’s only ever gotten this, annoyance and disdain and perhaps disappointment.

Still, he responds, “Her words need to be walked back if she wants to someday be more than the candidate. In this constituency, colonial reparations aren’t a popular enough issue to increase turnout for those who weren’t already interested, and it’s exactly the sort of thing which will put off those who were on the fence. We’re trying to flip a seat by reminding people of what their current MP is doing wrong; we have to stay on message, not muddy things with topics too few understand. Sending out a statement moderating the comment is the right move.”

“But that statement isn’t what the candidate believes, and her future constituents should know what her actual position is - they likely aren’t as stupid as you seem to think. And besides that, she has the right stance in the first place.”

In the weeks since she arrived, he’s found that the things people said of her were true: she is smart, perhaps too smart for the good of either of them, and decisive, easily seeing what’s been done and what needs to be and acting on it, the exact sort of person you would want at your side as you plot a course forward. But he hadn’t realized that she was a believer.

There are fewer idealists in politics than one might think, or at least who have risen to her level. He always finds them a bit off-putting, and it startles him even more with her - he had thought he recognized in her a sharpness and pragmatism which reminded him of his own.

“Don’t do anything like this again,” he says, trying to temper his own abruptness even as he is somewhat unsettled by the conviction in her. “Or I’ll fire you, and I don’t care what the candidate says about it.”

“I think she would have quite a lot to say in that circumstance,” Kate tells him, but she turns back to her keyboard and doesn’t argue anymore.

At least until the next day, when they end up nearly nose to nose in his office as Anthony maintains that they can’t get anyone’s hopes up with a promise of immediate action on climate change, especially considering the priorities in the party platform and the likely makeup of the next parliament, and Kate practically shouts that they’re showing people where their convictions lie and that Dr. Danbury will fight for them if she gets the chance.

When Anthony dreams of her again that night, they are not talking about policy at all. But when he wakes up, edgy and aching as he is, he finds himself hoping one day to see her smile at him the way he did in his sleep; he wants to know if her eyes really are as warm as he imagined.

On Saturday, there’s such persistent nagging in the older sibling groupchat that Anthony finally gives in and agrees to leave the office for a night out. Forcing him into some allegedly relaxing activity is a time-honored tradition when they’re coming into the final stretch of a campaign; he’s certain the others have been discussing tactics in one of the numerous other chats that are always going on. (The last he’d glimpsed, the sibling group which didn’t include Gregory, Hyacinth, or himself - but did, irritatingly, include Simon - was named “Anthony’s Scary Forehead Vein.”)

“Please tell me that we aren’t going to paint ceramics again,” Anthony says as he walks, hands in his pockets, beside Benedict. Their group is too large to all move together on the sidewalk, which is a bit of a relief. “I don’t think I could put up with another night of Eloise reminding me that there are stencils if I need them.”

Benedict very narrowly and very obviously avoids laughing at him. Now that Anthony thinks about it, actually, his brother had spent that particular outing using a dozen colors to intricately decorate a mug, spending so long on it that they had nearly closed the place around him. Their mother drinks her tea from it frequently, however. “Thankfully there won’t be any pottery or painting tonight.”

“And it’s not—”

“Not a club,” Benedict assures him, then grins. “Can you imagine Simon trying to make certain no one came within a foot radius of Daph on the dance floor?”

Anthony shakes his head, looking ahead of them to where his sister and brother-in-law are walking together, not holding hands, but so close that they might as well be. He still feels a bit strange about the two of them together, especially after all the drama on the way, but he can see that they’re in love each other, even if he can’t really imagine why anyone would want to be, and they’re extremely obviously happy, so he’s trying to grow accustomed to it. He can also absolutely see Simon working himself into knots playing mosh pit bodyguard.

“So where are we going, then?” he asks, but before Benedict can answer, Eloise, broken away from her friend Penelope, tosses her arms over their shoulders and wriggles her face between them.

“You’ll just have to see,” she says, and Anthony doesn’t have to look at her to know that she is twitching her eyebrows at them. He probably could get it out of her if he tried, but he actually is finding himself feeling a little lighter being out with everyone, so he just waits and ten minutes later, they’re entering an already fairly crowded pub. Colin and Eloise go over to register them as a trivia team - or more likely to bicker over what name their team should have. As if realizing the same, Daphne squeezes Simon’s hand once and pushes over to join them.

(Her stomach is still flat, even for someone looking, but Anthony notices that she places a protective hand over it as she walks through the crush anyway.)

The rest of them go to claim a table and start putting together an order for drinks and appetizers. Anthony is leaning across, shouting a promise that if Penelope doesn’t finish her chili loaded potato wedges, they’ll certainly be taken care of, when someone behind him asks, “Excuse me, can we borrow this chair?”

“Sorry, there are more of us coming,” he says politely, turning to face the woman. She’s thirtyish and tall, but that’s all he takes in before he spots, over her shoulder, the rest of her group. They’re all chatting with each other, wearing matching T-shirts in a variety of bold colors which declare them the Quizzie Bennets, and in the center, her hair up in a ponytail and definite warmth in her eyes, is Kate. Edie stands beside her, picture perfect nose crinkled in a teasing way, but all Anthony can notice is that he’s never seen Kate in jeans like this, that the odd, bright purple of her shirt looks electric instead of ugly against the dark of her hair, and all he can think is that he never imagined her as relaxed as she is, weapons laid down.

She seems to detect his gaze then, and as she meets it he expects the weapons to be picked right back up. There’s certainly surprise, a guardedness to her eyes as they meet his, but then she narrows them in his direction, as if saying game on.

So that’s how she wants to play it, he thinks, then turns to the others and says, “No alcohol.”

Benedict blinks. “What do you mean by that?”

“In solidarity with Daphne,” Anthony offers.

“Daph does know that it’s pub trivia,” Simon says. “And she’s not—”

“Fine,” Anthony interrupts before the compliment train can get rolling. He sets his jaw. “I mean that we need to keep clear heads if we’re going to absolutely trounce everyone here.”

Penelope looks a bit alarmed by the vehemence in his tone and Simon quirks a brow, but the others are game enough - Bridgertons have always had a competitive streak, and apparently the rest of them actually chose this particular trivia night because it’s done aloud, infinite bounce style, instead of on paper.

“We play with live ammo around here,” Eloise declares gleefully once she’s returned and been updated on what she missed.

“Damn right we do,” Anthony mutters to himself, glad that he is seated with his back to Kate so he can resist the temptation to see how irritated she looks just now, or how face might be a little flushed and her ponytail loosened from the heat of everyone packed together inside…

“Who exactly do you keep looking for?” asks Colin, who’d plopped himself into the chair Kate’s teammate had asked about. He cranes obviously around, and Anthony turns firmly back to the table before his brother can follow his line of vision.

For all that they didn’t pick their team in order to be serious contenders, they do cover the bases fairly well. Anthony has politics and current events, obviously, along with history. Penelope plays backup there as well, and covers literature alongside Colin, who handily takes on geography too. (Anthony has always inwardly wondered how reasonable it was to build a career around wanderlust and Instagram and freelancing for travel magazines, but if it brings them victory tonight, he will never question again.) Benedict apparently took in more about nature than any of the rest of them who grew up in the Kentish countryside, and knows quite a bit more about art and art history than Anthony had expected. Daphne, unpredictably, knows a lot about sports - she claims that it’s what happens when you spend your life being rambled at as “another one of the boys” - and, more predictably, music.

Anthony hadn’t expected Simon’s skill with numbers to be particularly helpful, but now he’ll have to buy him a drink at some point, both for doubting and for pulling them out of a sticky situation involving Bernstein's constant. He wishes that Francesca wasn’t too young to have come out with them - there are several instances where they could have used her chiming in with quiet calm about anything related to economics or science, but they instead have to all give questionable contributions in that regard. They all chip in for pop culture, too, although Eloise is clearly the master - she actually yawns as she announces that of course the country where Monica’s boyfriend Pete Becker took her on their first date was Italy, and Anthony has never been more grateful that he lets everyone sponge off his Netflix login (although would it really kill them to not be using all the screens on the rare occasions he actually has the time and inclination to watch something?).

The trouble is that there are plenty of other teams who are clearly regulars, and they were put together in order to be serious contenders. The questions and answers are flying through the air, the quizmaster, a skinny older man with big hair shouting “Correct! For ten points,” more often than not, and most importantly, the Quizzie Bennets are availing themselves nicely. (He should have guessed as soon as he saw the matching T-shirts.)

Questions his team can’t answer correctly bounce to them next, and he can’t help but toss Kate an incredulous look after she not only answers that Angela Merkel was voted chancellor of November rather than October 2005, but also rattles off the margin for and against. Her eyes meet his as if she was expecting his glance, but she just shrugs before wrapping her lips around her straw and taking a dainty sip of her drink. He has to look away then.

Still, Team Quizerton (apparently the name that both Colin and Eloise had hated enough for Daphne to negotiate them to agreement) has done well enough that Anthony feels confident as they move into the final round.

“And what will the twist be tonight?” the excitable quizmaster asks, although he then just presses a button on his phone rather than spinning some kind of enormous wheel. His face lights up as he announces grandly, “Ah, the ladder!”

He quickly outlines the rules: each team will have five questions selected for them in ascending order of difficulty, with point values from ten to fifty. For each correct answer, they will receive the corresponding points and the option of requesting a related bonus question for half the initial question’s value. Wrong answers mean a point deduction, double for bonus questions, and the end of play for that team. You can also pass, choosing another team to answer and forfeiting further questions for yours but freezing your points where they stand.

It’s more like a game show than any trivia night that Anthony is familiar with, but he actually appreciates the strategy element; he can understand why this would be Kate’s preferred contest.

He considers giving a pep talk to the table, but all of them - except for Simon, who’s looking somewhere between vaguely amused and bored - are dialed in, ready to claim victory, so he settles back and readies himself for it too.

It happens in the final round. Anthony is just allowing himself to feel the slightest bit smug at having earned them another 75 points by not only correctly responding that Sri Lanka was the first country to have a female prime minister, but answering the bonus of her name (Sirimavo Bandaranaike) and year of election (1960) as well. The quizmaster nods, turns, and reads off the next question: “This famous playwright’s last words were reportedly ‘I knew it! I knew it! Born in a hotel room and, goddamn it, dying in a hotel room.’”

There’s a strange, deep silence, then a buzz of whispering among the Quizzie Bennets, and Anthony is struck by the realization that they don’t know the answer. He certainly doesn’t either, and a glance around at his group tells him that they would have been screwed had they gotten the question, but it doesn’t matter. Excitement licks up his throat, victory so close he can taste it…

And then Kate’s head comes up from the huddle, and her eyes meet his, and he knows exactly what she is going to do before she does it.

“Ten seconds!” says the quizmaster.

“Trust me,” Kate mouths to her teammates, and then says aloud, “We’d like to pass, and give the Know It Ales a chance to answer.”

Anthony’s mouth goes dry. Stupid team name aside, they’ve been confidently answering questions all night, and this time is no different. Their leader is nearly bored as he immediately says, “Eugene O’Neill.” And Anthony can barely hear the room around him over the blood rushing in his ears as they answer the follow-up too.

When the quizmaster declares the Know It Ales the champions for the evening, Kate slings her arms around her teammates and cheers as if he’s announced her name instead. The other Quizzie Bennets look puzzled, but when she stares defiantly at Anthony, chin raised, beaming, glowing not like she’s in the spotlight but like she’s the light itself, he somewhat suspects that she’s the winner indeed.

“Isn’t that—” Colin starts somewhere close to Anthony’s ear.

“No, it is not,” Anthony tells him firmly, and wrestles him off to pay their tab.

Later that night, after he’s somewhat successfully distracted himself with work and somewhat less successfully distracted himself with looking for something to watch (why isn’t everyone asleep, and even if they are up, could they really not leave him one available screen?) he finds himself sitting on the edge of his bed with his work phone in one hand and his personal one in the other. And even though he knows exactly how bad an idea it is, he very carefully references the campaign contact group and keys one number into a new text message in his personal phone.

Sorry that this didn’t seem to be your night. Best of luck to your team next time.

He shoves out a breath and stands as soon as he’s sent it, forces himself to start getting ready for bed; she’s probably asleep now, or she might read it as rude or sarcastic and choose not to respond, and the text is just going to sit there, awkward and interminable…

There are plenty of ways to be lucky, thanks very much, and I think we found one - although I look forward to reclaiming my rightful title someday soon. See you on Monday, Bridgerton.

Regardless of what he tells himself, he can’t quite get the stupid grin off his face as he shuts off the light. He’s under no illusions about who his dreams will feature tonight.

Monday night before the election, Anthony leaves the office past eleven. He rubs his eyes as he walks past dark cubicles and conference rooms - unsurprisingly, he’s the last one around - and decides that what he needs more than sleep is something to eat, and not whatever cup noodles or single egg he might come up with at home. No, he needs comfort food, something generous and hot and greasy as Benedict’s face the year he was thirteen (not that his at fifteen was much better).

His favorite hole in the wall is open until midnight, so he stumbles over there and buys the biggest order of chips he can, the enormous burger nearly an afterthought. The place is tiny and not the sort of spot that has ever even heard of ambiance, but he’s tired and the idea of waiting to get back to his flat and eating in its emptiness isn’t particularly appealing. He turns with his food in hand and finds Kate looking up at him, startled, from one of the three tables.

He could take one of the others, leave them to eat in awkward peace, or he could pretend he had always intended to have his food to go. Instead he comes over and asks, “Can I join you?”

Her capable hands moving just a note too slowly, as though giving him time to reconsider, she collects the documents from the opposite side of the table, tapping them into order as he waits patiently. She folds her fingers atop the neat stack in front of her once she’s finished, watching as he dives into his meal; he should probably be embarrassed about it, but he doesn’t really have the energy.

They talk about inconsequential things - how the weather forecast might cause trouble with voter turnout, the unfortunate office incident with Johnson and the speakerphone last week, mutual political acquaintances - and Anthony realizes that it’s the first time they’ve ever done this, just made small talk without disagreeing. Kate doesn’t lose her sharp tongue simply because they are in casual conversation, but it’s different when her remarks aren’t directed at him; hearing her pert analyses of other candidates and campaign staffers actually makes him laugh.

She’s left half a piece of cold fish and polished off more than a few of his chips (completely unthinkingly, he’s sure) when they’re informed that closing time’s come and they have to clear the table. It would be completely natural for them to part ways and see each other in the morning for another round of sparring, but he finds himself saying, “I think I might go get a drink,” and finds her answering, “I think I might join you.”

He regrets it just a bit when he’s balanced on the bar stool (he really is exhausted; this is the earliest he’s been out of the office in days) but then Kate raises her wineglass and says, “To the homestretch,” and smiles just a bit as he touches his glass to hers. The light falls cozy and dim around them and he can still see exactly how long and competent her fingers are, wrapped around the stem, the places where strands of hair have escaped their pins, trailing down to rest against her exposed throat.

Right, he thinks inanely to himself. Right, excellent, this was a good choice, and belts back his scotch before signaling for another.

“Those were your siblings?” she asks, taking a sip of her own drink. “At trivia the other night?”

“Some of them were...are…” He shakes his head, trying to straighten out his own meaning. “It was some of my siblings, the oldest four, and my brother-in-law, and my sister’s best friend.” Then, before he can stop himself, he adds, “I saw your sister was there as well.”

“Hmm,” she says, taking another sip of her cabernet, and he can see her spine stiffening, armor reasserting itself.

For the first time, he realizes that she could easily hate Edie, her younger sister - her younger half-sister, even - who is sweet and accomplished and more apparently pretty, the one people’s eyes turn to when the Sheffield girls are around, but what Kate displays is no begrudging love.

It would probably be better for him to change the topic, get them back on safer ground, but though he might be smart, he’s not necessarily wise, so he tosses back his second scotch and asks, “Why did you warn me off her the first time? You didn’t even know me.”

“Yes, but I knew of you,” she says. As always, she faces the comment head on, doesn’t even pretend not to remember exactly what he’s talking about. “I was starting in the industry, I needed to have an ear to the ground and at least a general sense of the players, and I didn’t like the sense I got about you. It didn't make me think you were the kind of person to trust with my sister.”

“I’ve never—I would never—I don’t think I’ve—” he says, stumbling, slightly stricken. He knows that there are whisper networks about the people - the men - in their field, knows exactly who some of the whispers are about and has done his best to be the type of person who helps make those whispers into shouts. It would kill him a bit to find out that he’s done something that would make someone feel the need to speak about him that way.

“Not necessarily on a personal level,” she says, suddenly gentle, then circles her finger around the rim of her glass and amends, “Well, not that way. People actually said you were very smart and a good employer, but when I learned more about your history, the jobs you’d worked on in the past, it didn’t feel like there was any principle to your choices. As if you were just willing to sell yourself to whoever asked, or at least whoever looked good on a resume. Edwina deserves more than that.”

She is looking at him extremely frankly, as if she hasn’t just shrugged away the idea of the career he’s built, but with the way she says her sister’s name, the softness of it, how she somehow makes the full, old-fashioned version more personal than the nickname - he understands that sort of devotion. Hearing it from her steals the irritation beginning to build even as she continues. “I could never even entirely figure out why you went into politics rather than something else. You’re reasonably intelligent, you could have done any number of things if you weren’t particularly invested in the issues.”

Somehow, instead of the protest he was expecting, that he was intending, what comes out is simply, “It’s the family business.”

“I’m sorry?”

“The Bridgerton Group. My father started it.” By her expression, she doesn’t think that two generations exactly makes a family legacy, but for once she holds her tongue, and his, loose with drink and exhaustion, can’t hold back.

“I grew up playing under the table at a dozen campaign offices across London and having poster mock-ups as my placemats. When I was a bit older, I was allowed to volunteer, and I loved seeing him there, in his element, listening to proposals and then telling everyone, ‘Well, here’s what we’re going to do.’” He swallows. “He—My father died, just after my first year at university, and I wasn’t old or experienced enough to take his place. The staff went off to work for other people, and all I could think about was how disappointed he would have been, to see this thing he’d built, this thing he loved, fall apart so easily. The entire time until I graduated, while I was getting experience with other consulting firms and working on other campaigns, I was just waiting until I could do justice to what he left behind for me.

“He nearly called it ABC Consulting, but my mother told him that it sounded too juvenile. My parents had me and my brothers fairly young - he was still a student when Benedict and I were born - and he wanted to name it after us.”

He realizes as soon as he’s said it that he’s only ever admitted that once before, to Simon on a similarly drunken night during their final year at school, forgetting the way that Simon and his father were, or weren’t, with each other; his friend’s face had closed up as soon as the words had left Anthony’s mouth, and they’d never talked about it again. But Kate’s face is open, listening, more than he thinks he’s ever seen from her, in such a way that he thinks he could reveal anything to her.

He could tell her about the trouble he and his brothers got up to as children, or how he likes watching baking shows to relax even though he’s not worth a damn in the kitchen, or that he can’t stop himself from adding another mile to his morning run each time he finds a gray hair. He could start talking about how complicated his feelings have grown regarding the man who was once his best friend, or about the way his entire chest had burned as his mother placed a squalling Hyacinth into his nineteen-year-old hands before closing her eyes and about how he never wants either of them to know that he’d tried to force himself not to tremble and had trembled anyway. But this isn’t the time for any of that, so he continues.

“I wanted to put it back together for him. There were candidates I took on in the early days who were stepping stones, necessary to building a reputation but who I wouldn’t work with again now that I have the reputation and the choices that come with it. And I have my own opinions on the issues - some of which might match yours more closely than you’d expect - but I’m there to make sure that the candidates who hire me succeed in getting where they want to be. I’m good at that, and I’m committed to it, and I’ve never run a campaign I wasn’t proud of. Sometimes, though, being around you, I wonder if you're going to eventually talk me into a different philosophy.”

His glass is full again though he isn’t sure when that happened, and a group of middle-aged men with ties undone and suitcases beneath their eyes fumbles past the bar behind them toward a booth, but the only thing he is paying attention to is Kate’s considering gaze on him as she absently swirls the wine remaining in her glass.

“I have the feeling,” she finally says, “that when you say a different philosophy, you consider it a more naïve one. And I’m not certain that our opinions on the issues would really match up considering that you grew up with family money.” Her voice is not arch or insulting, though, and he would certainly know.

“We were...comfortable,” he admits. She raises a waspish eyebrow in response.

“No one who’s actually middle class would ever put it like that,” she informs him. “You most definitely have a trust fund.” But she actually smiles at him, and for once he knows what it’s like to have Kate Sheffield look at him with warmth in her eyes.

He’d quite like to have that again.

“Do you think—?”

“That we should dignify the remarks with a response? No, I absolutely do not.”

Anthony glares down at the article he has pulled up on his phone, then looks over at Kate, striding down the hall beside him, eating slices of peach out of a reusable container. For a moment he’s distracted from the rumormongering on behalf of one of their opposing campaigns; he thinks of Kate’s hands carefully working the knife around the fruit, of the way her tongue flicks over to catch the juice when she takes a bite…

“I could reach out,” he says, too loudly, before he walks into a wall. “I know the head of the campaign over there, I can remind him about the spirit of fair play and all that, especially this close to the finish line.”

She looks over at him incredulously, snapping the top onto her empty Tupperware. “I don’t care if you were the best man at his wedding, he’ll laugh you off the phone. I’ve had at least three listicles of our candidate’s best insults toward her opponents forwarded to me just this morning.”

“I had the feeling that wouldn’t work.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. Just three days left, for better or worse. “Fine, so we say nothing and hope that it passes out of the media cycle quickly and doesn’t do too much damage to the absentee votes.”

“As I said from the beginning.”

“You are far too determined never to let me have the last word,” he says, just the slightest bit amused, as they circle around the desks of the main office, edging their way over to hers.

She snags the toe of her ballet flat on a computer charger trailing across the floor, stumbles, but he catches her hand just in time and sets her upright again. She continues walking as if it hadn’t even happened, raising her voice enough to be heard over the chatter and buzz of phone calls as she teases, “What would be the fun in that?”

Aghast, he says, “We aren’t here to have fun, Sheffield.”

“Oh, did you actually want to win?” She tosses the empty container onto her desk as she drops into her chair, then looks up at him, swiveling slightly from side to side and shaking her head. “You really are a cliché.”

“Yeah, well, here’s another one: get to work.”

“I’m not sure that’s technically a cliché, but I suppose I could do that,” she says, with a shrug and a grin, turning toward her computer. He watches her for another few seconds, and then takes himself off to his office before he becomes too much of a cliché himself.

Despite the phone call he had earlier with his mother promising her that he wouldn’t, he falls asleep on his desk the night before the election, startling himself awake hours later.

“Too bloody old for this,” he mutters to himself, grimacing as seemingly every joint and muscle in his body quite firmly announces itself when he stands. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he gathers his things and makes his way through the darkened office.

Except it isn’t as dark as he’d expected. He scans the desks to try to figure out who left their lamp on, and finds Kate with her head resting on her arms, essentially imitating him from ten minutes prior.

Briefly, he stands there, not entirely sure what to do, but then he walks over, hand hovering by her shoulder before he gives her a light shake.

“Kate,” he says softly, crouching so he’s closer to her level. Her loose ponytail drapes over the burgundy of her blouse, quite close to his hand. He had not realized that he would recognize the scent of her, clean and straightforward with a subtly delicate edge; he should have known - he’s been smelling it in his dreams for weeks. He swallows and shakes her once more. “Kate, you should go home.”

“That was meant to be my line,” she says, far more lucidly than he would have expected. He shifts back as she stirs and sits up, massaging her fingers over her eyes. “I had the feeling that you weren’t going to leave at a sensible time, so I was planning on reminding you before I went home, only apparently I can’t leave at a sensible time either.”

“No, I suspect that sensible times to leave the office don’t involve the letters A or M,” he agrees. “Not that I would know anything about that.”

As she readies herself to leave, he tries to remember that the way she stretches out her back or takes down her hair, how she swings her bag over her shoulder, the quick, assessing way her eyes cover the room to make certain everything is in its place: all of that should be unremarkable. But there’s a moment, just the tiniest sliver of time, when she’s flicked off her desk lamp and they begin to walk out together in the glow of the emergency exit signs and the dim light of windows from other office buildings - she glances over at him, his hair rumpled, tie and briefcase dangling from one hand, and he thinks that he sees her swallow in a way that he recognizes all too well.

And then the moment is gone, and they’re out on the sidewalk, about to go their separate ways, the car he’d called for her already waiting.

“Big day tomorrow,” he says over the top of the door, holding it open as she climbs in. “Are you ready for it?”

“I’m always ready.”

He laughs, soft as the night around them. “Yes, I suppose you are. Good night, then.”

She looks at him one last time in the yellow beam of the streetlight, still a bit sleepy-eyed but no less aware for it. “Good night, Bridgerton,” she tells him, and drives away, and he can’t help but wonder about what if she hadn’t, what if he’d said something or she had made a choice, what if she didn’t drive away from him again.

The day of the election is always the worst for him - all the work behind him, nothing really to be done but let the people vote. He’s in the office earlier than usual anyway, early enough that he isn't certain it was worthwhile going home, but this, at least, he can control. He manages to keep himself busy throughout the day, but it’s all just a countdown to that night.

Somehow, despite - or perhaps because of - the sleeplessness and planning and stress, it isn’t one those contests that drag on. Dr. Danbury is brought on stage at about a quarter to one alongside the other candidates; the results, when the returning officer announces them, are decisive.

She’d brushed away his offers to help or choose a staffer or hire someone to work on her speech with her; instead she’s written it herself, and although brief, it’s as firm and irreverent as she is. He suspects that no one will ever pack as much sarcasm into referring to certain colleagues as “the right honorable.”

He makes some calls and receives congratulations from his mother and siblings, who have long since ceased to find these sorts of things interesting enough to attend but who make certain to keep up from home. As Dr. Danbury frees from handshaking and small talking, he makes his way over to her.

“Congratulations, ma’am.” He holds out his hand, which she eyes with a lifted brow.

“Anthony Bridgerton, I’ve known you since you were charming people from your mother’s arms, and considering that - not to mention all we’ve been through together over these last months - I think you can stand to give me more than just a handshake.”

He hugs her, which feels odd and tells him more than anything that the campaign is over. When he pulls away from her, she pats his cheek. “Now, go celebrate. You’ve earned it. I’m certainly going to.” And she winks.

The campaign staff is making plans for drinks and dancing and even just going home to raise a glass with loved ones. He wades into the group, patting backs and shaking hands, speaking briefly to some of them, smiling all the while.

And then he sees Kate, toward the edge of the crowd, chatting with one of the young guys from finance. Edwina is beside them, likely not as inured to the excitement of the night as the Bridgertons.

Kate, the taller of the two, spots him, leaning over to say something to her sister before weaving her way over. He tips his head toward a quieter little hallway, and they go over together, leaning against parallel walls.

“Congratulations,” they say to each other at the same time, and then immediately after, “I only wanted to say—”

He nods at her to go first. It’s only polite. But there’s an unusual sort of trepidation about her face, a pause that he doesn’t expect, that makes him wonder if she wishes that he’d taken the initiative. Still, she’s Kate, so she takes a breath and comes out with, “Edwina is here tonight, and if you still wanted—Clearly I misjudged you, and so if you were still interested in her, I wouldn’t say anything.”

“Oh,” he says, and that is all he can manage for the moment, standing frozen and watching Kate force her shoulders back and her gaze to his.

He does not know precisely how to communicate the depths to which he has realized that he does not want to date Edie Sheffield, that he never wanted to date her, that his interest lies entirely elsewhere. What he says instead is, “I had wanted to ask you to stay on with the Group. Permanently. You’re very, very good at what you do, and I think that...You know, your perspective and your clarity during the campaign was extremely helpful, extremely valuable, to me.”

He can picture it plainly, has been picturing it already: Kate taking him to task about every little issue, forcing him to remember the things outside of the campaign itself, the bigger things. Kate, with her hair swept up and her eyes bright and furious, challenging him to be the best version of himself, or at least to want to try.

But then she looks up at him and says, “I’ve actually had another job offer recently. The candidate—I’m sorry, the MP-elect wants me to be her new chief of staff, and I was already inclined to accept.”

“You’re going to be incredible at that,” he says immediately, blank shock quickly giving way to sincerity then laughter. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner. Maybe I just didn’t think that Parliament was ready for it.”

“That’s probably for the best, though. Element of surprise and all.”

Her voice doesn’t trail away but as his laughter does, so does her smile, her animation; the air seems to fall thin and still. He doesn’t know that there’s ever been a beat of awkwardness between them like this, not even when they have been at their most prickly with each other, but it’s there now, in her eyes as she looks across at him, in his gut as he wonders what to say next.

“I’m glad you got another job offer,” is what comes out, and there is her unamused, interrogative eyebrow, hovering upward.

“So you weren’t serious with yours?”

“No, of course I was, it’s only that...Well, I’ve been your boss up until now, regardless of how much you might believe it should be the other way around.” That even gets him a slight returning smile, enough for him to ignore the dryness in his mouth and the franticness of his chest to say, “And if you had taken the job with me, I would have continued to be your boss. Which would have made it rather unacceptable for me to ask you out.”

In the space of that breath, with the silence heavy between them even as they stand right beside a crowded room, even as Dr. Danbury’s voice crows easily above the others, still practiced from projecting through the university lecture hall, he wonders if she is going to leave him like this, cards on the table, only the fall below him.

“Well,” she finally says, slow as anything. She is looking up at him, considering and careful, but he knows that her mind must be working at triple its already remarkable speed. “If I’m going to be around the city, and there’s no conflict of interest…”

He doesn’t entirely like the way it is turning into something neat and logical in front of him when he’s never felt anything close to that around her. He doesn’t like the way she looks tentative, pushing back against the edge of something more than caution - fear, perhaps, as if this might be a trick, as if the idea of allowing herself to crack open is unbearably terrifying, and it looks wrong on her face, so bold and familiar, he never wants to see that expression there again. He reaches out across the space, and when she reaches back, he takes her hand.

“Kate,” he says. “You are the most infuriating person I’ve ever known and possibly the smartest, you are wildly, overly principled and somehow make me want to be the same, you never let me have a moment’s peace, I can’t stop thinking about you, and I’d like to go on a date with you.”

“Well, that does sum things up nicely, Anthony,” she tells him, and despite herself, he can see a little snatch of a smile just there, the warmth growing in her eyes as they look right into him, the fear working its way from her. Still, she tries for nonchalance as she says, “My contract with the campaign doesn’t end until Friday. We can do Saturday night, if you’re up for it.”

He’s up for it. He takes her out Saturday night for dinner, hides a smile as she pokes fun at his shoes, gets into an argument with her about education funding, and goes to bed more distracted by a half hour of pressing her against her front door (and then onto her sofa for another twenty minutes) than he has any right to be considering he isn’t fourteen. He spends Sunday night with her too, and on Monday they go to see a movie they both hate but can’t stop talking about, and he is fairly certain he is going to spend essentially every night with her for the rest of his life.

It isn’t peaceful - and only likely to get busier once they both really get back to work - and her dog is a nuisance and Colin tries to take credit for the whole thing, and they’re so happy that neither of them cares.

[mangekyuou]

                                        NOBODY BUT YOU ━ﾞ

⁺◟   CHARACTERS . . .           kujo jotaro           fem!reader           kujo jolyne ‘ holly

⁺◟   GENRE . . .           au           fluff           oneshot

⁺◟   SYNOPSIS . . .           ( y/n ) is the princess of ( k/n ) and           her family wishes for her to marry           an honorable prince from another           kingdom in order to form an alliance           through marriage. but ( y/n ) has           eyes for one man and one man only.           her butler, jotaro, who shares a           mutual love.

⁺◟   TRIGGER WARNINGS . . .           mentions of blood ‘ wounds ‘ violence           internalized misogyny ‘ bad parents ‘           killing ( but no one dies ) ‘ weapons

⁺◟   WORD COUNT . . .           4.4k. 

⁺◟   COMMENTARY . . .           probably a little ooc jotaro for this one           because he’s actually pretty kind in this           one lol. i hope it’s not too much though.           i was told to write a oneshot, instead i           felt like i wrote a plot for a short story.           this now my second longest fic. there’s           just something about jotaro that makes           me wanna act up when i write about           them.            ( f/n ) ‘ father’s name ‘ ( m/n ) ‘           mother’s name ‘ ( k/n ) ‘ kingdom’s            name ‘ ( h/n ) ‘ horse’s name

“Jojo, you do not have to hide, I know you’re there.”

A woman spoke up, as she sat on the edge of her bed looking out toward the wide window a few feet from her bed, closed, boarded up from the outside at the discretion of her own mother. Through the cracks, sunlight peered into the room alongside the other much smaller windows on the same stone wall.

She stretched, a sigh leaving her lips followed by a yawn. She looked over her shoulder looking her now wide-open door, there in the door frame stood a man with the height of just about two meters with his back turned to her.

The young woman giggled, “Are you shy, Jojo? Or...do you just do not like my appearance?”

“I am not shy nor do I dislike your appearance, princess. You are just underdressed and it would be appreciated if you were to cover yourself before I can attend to you,” The man answered, his voice was rough and a little mean sounding but she knew he meant no harm by it.

That name. Princess. Her title.

“Jojo, you know you don’t have to call me Princess, right? I mean, we’re friends, right? And I am the same age as you. You can just call me by my name,” She added, standing up from her glamorous bed and walking over to put on a silk robe that was gifted to her from a friend of her mother.

The man hummed, “I do know that...( y/n ) but out of respect for both you and your family, I have to refrain from referring to you so improperly and I must address you by your title.”

Princess ( y/n ), first and only daughter of ( f/n ) ( l/n ) and ( m/n ) ( l/n ) of the lovely kingdom of ( k/n ). A kingdom that prides itself on all of its resources natural and human. And it would one day be all ( y/n )’s one day in the near future.

As she was the only child her mother could bear, she cursed from the beginning of her life to take the throne when she would become an adult, as her mother did not bear a son.

It would all be hers...alongside a man, she would probably be forced to marry from another kingdom to form some type of alliance to share a throne she didn’t want in the first place.

She was a young princess, a bit curvy around the edges with the attention of many suitors from her own kingdom and those from afar. Men near and far would do just about anything to even catch a glimpse from her. Who could blame them? She was young, attractive, strong, could defend herself, independent, and very rebellious against her parents and everything her kingdom stood for.

Her rebellious behavior and independent attitude were not what ( k/n ) stood for and she knew that which made it all the better. She prided herself in not being like the princesses before herself. She didn’t want to be like her mother, she didn’t want to be like her ancestors. She wanted to be much more than that.

She wanted to be free of her duties and to live a quiet life outside of the kingdom. Away from the stress. Away from the suitors who wanted nothing more than to marry her, turn her into a powerless walking baby carriage, and strip her of her independence and strength by force, if necessary.

( y/n ) had learned from a young age to not trust the men around her, for that very same reason. Not even her own father, who wanted to marry her off years ago to ensure the kingdom would survive another 100 years and he would get grandchildren.

She had been failed by people she had trusted and was starting to lose hope that there was really anyone out there who she could trust.

And that’s when she met him. The man who stood at her door frame with his back facing her. The man who always made her heart flutter no matter what he did.

Jotaro.

A descendant of the Joestar bloodline, the direct descendant of the great and gentle soul Jonathan Joestar who fought against evil to avenge his father’s tragic death, dying himself before it was all done. Grandson of the cocky bastard whose legendary battle stories traveled across the world, Joseph Joestar.

Despite his bloodline, Jotaro had seemed to be the opposite of both his grandfather and his great-great-grandfather. He was, at first, delinquent. His name was known across the kingdom fairly quickly for a young man.

It all had started after a misunderstanding. A man had swung at him first and he simply defended himself, beating the man almost to death without even batting an eyelash. The incident quickly became known across the kingdom.

He would get into much more trouble after that but nothing that brought the king’s attention to him, that was of course before ( y/n ) had suddenly became involved.

The young princess had left the castle without her guards when she was supposed to be asleep. She had wandered into a pub on the outskirts of the kingdom in disguise, where she danced on top of a table until one of the few customers at the pub had tried to grab at her.

As the unknown man grabbed her wrist with one hand, with the other he pulled out a small dagger that was clearly homemade as the blade looked a bit uneven, but it sure was sharp as it pierced through the skin on her neck and drew blood.

The rest was a blur to her, the next thing she remembered was waking up in someone else’s bed, being looked after by a fair-headed woman with emerald eyes with a gentle smile. She learned her name, Holly.

Before she could explain, her son walked in, Jotaro. He had explained what happened and why she was here, as it slowly started to come back to her. When she returned back the castle, there she saw a huge search for not only her but a search for Jotaro as well.

Before she could find him and warn him, he was already found and arrested. There she ran, she ran home to the castle and that’s when she saw a sight that still haunts her dreams to this day.

Jotaro in a guillotine with both of her parents eagerly watching the scene before them. She let out a terrible shriek, gathering everyone’s attention before she ran through the crowd that was slowly forming to watch Jotaro’s execution. As she laid her head under the blade, crying, “DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL! LEAVE HIM BE! THIS MAN SAVED MY LIFE! YOU KILL HIM, YOU KILL ME! YOU’LL KILL THE FUTURE OF THIS KINGDOM AS WELL!”

He, along with everyone else, was surprised by her actions. The princess of ( k/n ) had laid her head down on the guillotine in order to save a commoner.

The crowd began to murmur, rumors began to spread. The execution was called off and Jotaro was set free...or at least he thought. While the crowd settled down, ( m/n ) had offered him anything he had wanted in order to keep him out of the picture, knowing he would ruin ( y/n ) precious image in the other kingdoms.

He declined her offer, saying those words that ( y/n ) would never forget, as it was the first moment she had ever felt her heart race for someone. It was like she knew she had loved him.

“I don’t want your money, your jewels...I don’t want anything you can give. What you can do is listen to your daughter, Queen ( m/n ). It doesn’t seem like you don’t do a lot of that. Take care, Princess ( y/n ).”

“I’m decent now, Jojo. You can turn around,” ( y/n ) added, leaning against one of the nightstands, folding her arms across her chest.

He looked around her room, “It is awfully late for you to be just waking up, your highness. Where are your maids?”

She sighed, “I sent them away. I didn’t want to get out of bed today. I told them I have come down with something and I do not wish to get them sick. Getting those old women to leave me alone is such a pain in my sides. They kept insisting until I had to literally push them out of the room and shut the door. I can’t catch a break around here I guess.”

“Well, you are meeting another suitor today, your highness,” He pointed out, his eyes had traveled down to his feet. Just saying those words made him sick. He hated when young woman had to meet suitors. Every prince that had walked through those doors didn’t want a companion to spend the rest of their days with, they wanted a woman they could return to whenever they wanted. He knew boys his age, they didn’t want marriage and they damn sure didn’t deserve the woman standing before him in a silk robe.

When she asked him to be her butler, he declined. He didn’t want to work for the very kingdom he didn’t want to be apart of and wanted him either dead or behind bars in a dungeon. But she didn’t give up and she had bothered him for weeks on end, begging him to be her personal butler and he would not have to answer to any of the kingdom staff and he could live on castle grounds with his mother if he pleased.

Growing tired of her begging, he finally accepted under the condition that his mother would not be treated like a maid, which ( y/n ) accepted as she had grown fond of Holly.

After spending more time with her, he realized his true feelings. The way his heart raced and how hard it was to hide even the slightest blush when she called him by his nickname, Jojo. How she trusted him even more than she trusted the castle staff who she had grown up knowing. How her soft hands would graced his own.

He had accepted that he was in love with her almost a year ago before her mother began to truly force courtship down ( y/n )’s throat in order to take the throne. She didn’t take it laying down, which was another thing he loved about her. Her rebellion toward her family and the traditional way of things.

“Oh, that’s right. Some wealthy prince where to buy his way into a marriage he doesn’t plan on putting effort into. I’ll pass,” She joked, making Jotaro give her a small smile.

“Did the cold Jotaro just...smile?”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just messing with you, Jojo. So what should we do today instead of meeting my suitor? I was thinking we make a break for it with ( h/n ) and run out of ( k/n )’s gates at full speed. They’ll never be able to catch us!”

He raised an eyebrow, “Are you crazy? You’ll get me killed. Your mother already has a bounty on my head and is ready to kill me off at any moment. We are not to leave ( k/n ), especially not together. There are already rumors still floating through the kingdom about the two of us.”

Her face fell. The rumors, she almost forgot about those. The rumors of them being in a relationship. The rumors of him corrupting her and taking her innocence. While they hurt his image, they had pretty much tainted hers.

She would pretend they wouldn’t hurt, but they did, they always did. He knew that and he offered to disappear but she never wanted him to leave her or she would truly never trust anyone.

Jotaro let out a sigh, walking over to her, putting a finger on her chin to make her look up at him. It sent chills down her spine, looking at him like this with those blue-green eyes of his. He was even more gorgeous up close.

“Do not be sad, your highness. A rose bath will make you feel nice. I’ll fix your bath. While you bathe, I will clean your room. And then after, I will escort you to the main hall where your parents are waiting for you. ”

She nodded, “Thank you, Jojo.”

“No problem.”

He did just as he told, fixing her bath, pouring hot water into her wooden bathtub, filling it with rose red and pink rose petals before heading to her room where he “cleaned” as she bathed and relaxed. She was pretty much a clean woman already, there was much to clean besides some dusty spots. His eyes kept darting to the boarded-up window.

‘They truly do wish to lock her away like she is some animal, huh?’

The door to the room opened to reveal a familiar-looking woman, who wore a scowl on her face. ( y/n )’s handmaiden, “You should not be in here alone with Princess ( y/n ). You know the rules, Kujo. Should we relay them to you once more?”

He rolled his eyes, “I do not need your rules. You shouldn’t assume the worst of your princess now, should you?”

“Who are you to threaten me?!”

“You said my name, you know who I am. Princess ( y/n ) is currently in the bath and is getting ready to―”

The handmaiden blinked, “DID YOU SEE HER INDECENT?!”

“You are awfully protective for someone who jumps to conclusions.”

“Isabel, enough!” ( y/n )’s firm voice sounded through the room. The two looked over toward the bathroom door to see the young princess wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around her body tightly, covering all it needed to, “Jojo has done nothing and has been always been nice and expected my boundaries, unlike the suitors you, mother and father try to marry me off to. He did not see me indecent and nothing has happened. Please do not assume the worst of him. He is only doing the job I asked him too.”

With a regretful look on her face, she turned to him. Their eyes locked, “You may leave now, Jojo. I should get ready for my suitor.” She turned to Isabel, “You too. I wish to dress myself this evening.”

The two bowed, going toward the door. Isabel had walked out, leaving the two young adults for a moment. She gave him a little smile, “I’ll be fine.”

“You’re planning something...aren’t you?”

“You know me so well. Wear the cutest suit you can find at home. I’ll be looking forward to it.” She gave him a wink. He did as he always did, pretended not to care and just walk off...before...he stopped, “Thanks for sticking up for me.”

“No problem. It was wrong of her to accuse you like that.”

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight, Princess? And your dress really compliments you in all of the right ways.”

Silence.

“Princess? Princess ( y/n )?”

The young princess rapidly blinked, turning to the young man standing to her side dressed in an outlandish suit that was crafted to his tastes. She shook her head, “My apologies, my head seems to be somewhere else at the moment. Could you repeat what you said?”

The young prince cleared his throat, gesturing toward her dress, “I said that you look absolutely beautiful tonight. Your dress truly compliments you in all of the right ways.”

( y/n ) looked down to the blush-colored dress she wore, one she pretty much squeezed herself, the tight corset crushing her sides only added to the extreme discomfort she felt along with being with him, the newest suitor.

Prince Andrew from a neighboring kingdom known for their crops. A man on the shorter side with ginger hair and pretty bad achy across his face. He was probably the least interesting of the many suitors who had asked for her hand in marriage so it was easy for her to get lost in her thoughts. All he talked about was how gorgeous she was and how an alliance between their two kingdoms would be amazing.

He lost her after hello. Besides she was too busy thinking about the man who occupied her heart. His smile, his eyes, his charm.

( y/n ) gave the young ginger prince a small smile, patting him on the back as a friend, “Prince Andrew, you must forgive me but I want to be honest with you because I see something in you that I never saw in any of my other suitors.”

“A possible alliance and marriage?” His eyes sparkled.

“Heavens no. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a sweet, smart, and talented man and I know any woman would be happy to be your queen, but I’m not one of them. We could be really good friends, but I don’t see a future marriage between us. We can still have an alliance, just not one through marriage,” She explained.

His head fell just below his shoulders and a sad expression printed on his face. She rubbed his back gently, “Prince Andrew, please do not sad.”

“There is a man who holds to key to your heart already, isn’t there?”

She stayed silent, letting out a sigh.

“The man...who holds your heart, is he a commoner?”

“He is.”

“That is why you do not wish to meet suitors. Your heart belongs to a commoner. I see. Does...does he love you too?”

She shrugged her shoulders, “I’m not sure. I don’t think so.”

“The commoner that you adore, is he Jotaro Kujo of the Joestar bloodline?”

“How did you...”

“We know all, Princess ( y/n ). When you threw yourself under a guillotine for him, talk began to spread not only through your kingdom but through all of the kingdoms. It is why your parents are ready to marry you off so fast. So you don’t end up marrying him and mixing your precious bloodline with that of the shameful Joestar bloodline. Why do you think he has yet to show up despite being your personal butler?”

“You know something I don’t know. Prince Andrew, I demand you to tell me! WHY HAS HE NOT SHOWN UP?!”

She grabbed the ginger by his collar, her hands shaking in fear of the unknown. Andrew let out a shaky sigh, “We were told Jotaro would be taken care of. He had two options. He could either let you go and leave as nothing happened or...”

“They’ll kill him. Andrew where do they plan to kill him?!”

“I’m not sure. I saw soldiers marching to the east gate.”

“That’s not far! Thank you so much, Andrew!” She released the ginger’s collar, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek, causing him to blush a deep shade of red.

She ran in the way of the east gate, praying that she would make it in time. Her dress starting to rip and shred in the tree branches and bushes, while it began to blackened from dust and dirt. During her run, she lost both her shoes and most of the bodice of her dress which was probably stuck on a stray tree branch. Cuts and scratches covered her arms and collarbones, but none of the stings got to her. The adrenaline in her body being the reason.

In her vision, she could see it. East gate. She could see a few torches and horses. As she got closer, running now through the grass she saw two soldiers, fully armed with swords in a hand the reigns of their horse in the other.

On the ground, in front of the soldiers there, he was in a now tattered suit, Jotaro.

“No...”

“We are giving you the chance to live and leave Princess ( y/n ) so she can be happy. Don’t you want her to be happy?” One of the soldiers spoke.

Jotaro whipped the corner of his mouth, glaring at the soldier, “Of course I want her to be happy but why would she happy among you liars and corrupted people. I’m not leaving this shitty kingdom without her. If you’re going to kill me then kill me. My mother will still be around to watch over ( y/n ) for me until we meet again in the afterlife because I know that she can protect herself from here on out and she’ll never let a man walk all over her ever again whether I walk out of here alive or not. And because I never got to say it allowed to her, I want to say it now so I do not die with regrets. I have come to the terms with it. I love her. I love ( y/n ).”

His confession made her heart race, as tears formed in her eyes. He did love her back. She made herself now, stepping out of the tall grass, Jotaro seeing the tattered blush-colored dress first and then her face, “ ( y/n )! What are you doing here?! Why aren’t you at the ball?!”

The young princess walked to his side, kneeling next to him, taking his hand into hers, “I said it once and I’ll say it again no matter how many times it takes. You kill him, you kill me! I wish for the same brutal death that he gets because I love him too!”

Jotaro looked to the young princess with a shocked look. She shared his feelings.

“And if I’m not marrying him then I do not wish to marry at all! Now take your sword and finish us! Do your worst!”

“WOAH! MOM DID THAT?! SHE’S SO COOL!”

Jotaro let out a little chuckle watching his now seven-year-old daughter jump and down in glee, repeating ( y/n )’s iconic phrase that she had become known for through her ongoing reign as queen of ( k/n ).

Of course, she went on to reign as queen to become queen after marrying the love of her life. It was a long road to get to that point, it was an even longer road to get her parents to let her marry him. It took a lot convincing on both sides but by some miracle one day the former king and queen caved in and said yes, as they saw that Jotaro had made ( y/n ) the strong woman she was today.

Not long after their marriage, ( y/n ) and Jotaro had become queen and king of ( k/n ). And on the day of their coronation, ( y/n ) discovered she was indeed pregnant.

Nine months later, the sweet baby girl was born.

Jolyne.

She was Jotaro’s pride and joy. ( y/n ) had already predicted that Jotaro would love her more than anything, as she watched him hold her the day she was born for hours, barely even speaking to her. Watching his eyes spark as he looked down at his daughter, it warmed her heart.

“Princess, I don’t see why you’re so excited to hear that part. I’ve told you the story of how your mother and I began dating many times.”

The black and green haired girl sat down on her bed, and folded her arms across her chest, “It’s still really cool! She took you in and made you a king.”

“That’s not―”

“That’s exactly right, Jojo,” A sweet voice chimed from behind the father-daughter duo. The two looked toward the door with the same look on their face. It was easy to tell they were related.

“MOMMY!” Jolyne climbed out of her bed, running to her mother, hugging her tightly. ( y/n ) smiled, hugging her daughter back tightly, “How is the Princess of ( k/n )?”

“Great! Just listening to Dad tell the story about how you two started dating. I want to be like you when I grow up.”

She patted her daughter’s head, “And you will be one day when you become queen. You’ll be even better than me. But it is time for the little princess to fall asleep and go to dreamland while Daddy and Mommy retire to our own chambers.”

As if it was on cue, Jolyne let out a yawn, rubbing her eyes. She slowly let go of her mother, returning back to her bed to allowing Jotaro to tuck her in tightly.

“Tomorrow, we will go to the stables and ride horses.”

“Yay!”

“Good night, Jolyne.”

“Good night, princess.”

“Good night, Mommy and Daddy.”

Jotaro kissed the top of Jolyne’s head, standing up from her bedside, blowing out the candle next to her bed, and walking out of the room with his wife. He closed the door gently, slowly inching away from it before sweeping ( y/n ) off of her feet, the woman let out a small yelp.

“J-J-Jotaro!”

“Does this bring back memories?”

( y/n ) giggled, wrapping her arms around her husband’s neck, “Of course it does. It was actually this very hallway that you picked me up and carried me down. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was the night you “tainted” me forever, as my mother says.”

“All I did was kiss you.”

“J-J-Jotaro!”

“Yes, Princess ( y/n )?”

The man chuckled lowly, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips, catching her off guard. He slowly pulled away, a dark blush formed on her cheeks as she stared at him with surprised eyes. “D-D-Do you just go around kissing girls like that?”

“Only girls named ( y/n ) ( l/n ),” He answered.

“Never took you for a romantic. You were cold and quiet. You barely even spoke to me back when first began meeting,” She pointed out.

His blue-green eyes looked into her ( e/c ) ones, “But you saved me. I’ve always been the one saving others and you saved me. You were the first person to risk your own life to save mine. Just like you, I didn’t trust many. And you walked into my life and I saved you, I expected it to end there but then they tried to kill me but you almost threw your life away for me. YOU, the Princess of ( k/n ), almost threw her life away for me, a commoner. Something changed in me that day. For a while, I didn’t know if it was good or not. But now that I have in my arms like this, I know it’s a good thing, Princess ( y/n ).”

“There you go with the title again, ruining the moment. You'll never learn huh?"

"I'll call you by your name when you marry me."

"That will be pretty soon."

⁺◟   BACK TO NAVIGATION . . .

[tiffgeorgina]

what did you think of the new episode???

OH LORD i had a lotttt of thoughts on this episode, understandably. CONTENT WARNING FOR DISCUSSIONS OF SUICIDE AT THE VERY BOTTOM OF THIS POST (it’s a long paragraph). also obviously spoiler warning for 2x08.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-8255

please reach out to somebody if you’re feeling distressed after this episode, or if you or a loved one is considering self harm or suicide. im always here if you need somebody to vent or talk to. i love you all and i would be devastated if anything happened to any of you. 

anyways, episode discussion below:

-first of all, the corgina scene at the very beginning was PRICELESS. tiff and corkie had it DOWN until tiff lost her cool. i was DYING. casey wilson invented the word “fuck.”

-marcus/dawn and connie/mo double date. this whole scene had me CACKLING. marcus being such a comrade was not at all what i expected. the three-on-one connie smackdown i could not BREATHE. also includes classic moments such as “we’re doing black shit right now keith” and regina stealing every scene she’s in. also WOMEN xosha roquemore (connie) in dark lipstick is the best part of s2 prove me wrong

-also kind of out of order but dawn calling mo her best friend did not sit right... like in my soul. it’s like inherently wrong. so STRANGE to hear her say that.

-but connie sucks at being subtle lmfao dawn was not having any of that 

-“i can’t vote. im a felon” just out of nowhere GOD. and the fact that that’s the first time dawn’s learning that mo went to prison is fucked up. i’ve never seen a woman want a man to shut up so badly, and i’ve never been so glad that said man did not shut up lmfao

-tiff and blair’s apartment looks so good yes god!! also this season keeps referencing blair’s parents and it’s kind of putting me on edge. especially since next episode is “blair [being] forced to revisit his past.” on another note, andrew’s voice in this scene is SO FUNNY. you can tell he’s a voice actor i think

-also like we knew blair was into older men but now we like know lmfao. the richard gere jokes had LAYERS these writers outsold

-ok blair&tiff’s relationship... yikes. i cannot tell what the writers want their relationship to be. are they unhealthy and toxic and bad to each other? or are they platonic soulmates and life partners? make up your MIND, showtime.

-DON’T INFANTILIZE THE CUP BYE KJDFHGDFKJ

-first blarris scene was TENSE. acting good

-the confirmation that roger has kids... i mean i suspected it from the moment tuc’s character was announced in september but it makes the ending so much more painful. i KNOW that’s the only reason why they pushed the fact that the harrises are parents in this episode, bc it was never confirmed earlier.

-i hate how funny michael hitchcock is. im trying to hate newell but im laughing. why are his lines so funny who wrote this. 

-the sound design in this episode was a lot to take in. the music was intense asf and it stays intense throughout the whole ep

-keith cracking onto blair and trying to reconcile with him bc he’s feeling empathetic but blair shutting him down... can’t say keith doesn’t deserve it but i would’ve loved to have seen keith and blair just talk about being closeted and having affairs and shit.

-THE TRUMP CHILDREN LMFAOOOO they all look so smug the casting was great this ep

-mo shit talking connie TO HER FACE bc he knows connie can’t give up the act... fucking priceless i love to see it acab

-dawnroe physical contact hhhhh can you tell im rewatching this ep as i type this

-the wording on the “you’re with the FBI?” line is so perfect. bc it makes it totally sound like dawn’s onto mo and connie when really she’s just like “you’re siding with the FBI bitch?” highkey genius line

-posted this too early by accident oops. im still editing im not done yet lmfao

-MARCUS MO AND DAWN SAID ACAB FUCK YES

-ROGER GRABBING BLAIR’S HAND I AM ASCENDING. i knew about the hand holding scene there but i didn’t think roger would initiate it <3

-roger nearly kissing blair :’/

-LORD the trump children are little shits god

-daddy says it makes me look hot. you mean cute? ...no.

-oh GOD not this blarris scene. i like to believe that a gay person generally wouldn’t threaten to out another gay person on principle, but blair has shown how shitty of a person he's become all season. i hate it and it’s still ooc but i’ve seen worse on this show tbh.

-roger’s got a point, if he supports his campaign fund manager right off the bat, he’ll look like a total fraud and his career will be over. the fact that blair barely gives a shit really speaks to what his character has become. “fuck them” what a classic line

-ANDREW’S ACTING!!! his voice when he says “you use me” ugh i felt that in my chest. plus roger looking away after he says that... i mean god this cast is so talented

-blair snapping god. he’s got a point, he and roger have been dysfunctional asf all season. doesn’t justify threatening to out somebody AT ALL but finally hearing some emotion out of blair, a little bit of anger and frustration, it’s refreshing.

-does “who are you, blair?” count as a parallel to “who are you, pfaff?” from 1x01?

-blair outing roger to newell... yikes. again ooc and bad. blair’s a shitty guy but we’ve seen him have empathy before, even in s2. why would they make him do this i don’t get it.

-keith finding out about lenny is good. maybe something will finally come of this arc?

-parallel to 2x02 with blair mentioning his mom’s phrase, cool. probably gearing us up for more references to his parents next ep, culminating in a flashback to his childhood in 2x10.

-this scene where the trump kids are destroying everything is classic. you can genuinely tell that everybody there was having so much fun shooting that. idk, it’s nice.

-trump reveal HA what a great end to that scene

-keith coming by and fucking everything up... i mean i guess everybody KNOWS now. dawn/marcus is over (good) and dawn is probably right pissed at mo rn. but hey, fuck em all resurgence!!! ive been waiting for it and now it’s here!

-im scared, what’s connie gonna do? fuck cops

-“that’s a long way to go just to get a dig in” “it was a stretch but-” see what happens when you’re a narc? you lose your wit :/ sad! nice exit line from connie tho

-CW SUICIDE MENTION. ok time to talk about what definitely needs to be talked about. god this has had my chest hurting all day yesterday. i knew blarris would be outed eventually bc sho likes to milk every plot point for every bit of drama they can get out of it, but i did not expect roger to take his life. and blair finding him is just devastating. i said this on twt, but the fact that somebody could be so overwhelmed with internalized homophobia that being outed could cause them to commit suicide is so incredibly and deeply sad to me. i’ve been crying for a while over that fact. 

im just. im really sad. i’ve connected so much with these characters over the past two-ish years and this is such a devastating turn of events. i have no words. it isn’t bad writing or ooc by any means, it’s just so extremely and incredibly sad. there are probably thousands of people who have been in roger’s exact position before, and the realism really hits me hard. i can’t put into words how overwhelming sad this makes me. 

also pretty upset that this came as a COMPLETE shock to me and all my friends. we all watched on the sho streaming service, which did not have the “viewer discretion advised” card before the ep. the premier did, but the episode on the app did not. i really REALLY wish they had added that before i had seen the episode so i could prepare myself, even if just slightly. also wish they had added a suicide hotline number at the end. 

seeing blair grieve his loss is going to hurt but it’s probably going to give us closure too. i think about this show all the time, and now thinking about it makes me so overwhelmingly sad. i sound dramatic but this show has been with me for so long. not being able to see much of blair’s reaction beside the initial shock has been haunting me. im so scared for what the future episodes are going to bring.

thank you for reading, i love you all <3

[lady-charinette]

Chapter 1 - Strings & Papers Lukanette AU (Teacher!Marinette & SingleDad!Luka)

A/N: Hello everyone! As requested, I made this into a full fic. It was originally something small on Tumblr, an AU idea for Lukanette (SingleDad!Luka and Teacher!Marinette) but after many requests, I finally decided to post the first chapter.

INFO:

All characters are aged up! Everyone is at least in their late twenties/early thirties.

Modern AU without superpowers/kwamis. Tikki is a cat here ^_^

A few OC’s will make appearances, mostly the children of some of the original ML characters (Luka’s child Leon…etc.)

This is purely Lukanette.

Oh and I apologize for any OOCness in advance!

Enjoy reading! :)

Chapter 1

Children rushed about, the room bustling with life as her students went about their tasks; trying to create something using their hands and imagination.

It could be drawings, clay creations, any piece of art that the children were able to craft.

The important thing was, it was something that made them happy and that they liked.

“Miss Marinette! Miss Marinette! Look what I did!“ the boy waved his clay creation in the air wildly, cupped securely in his hands.

His teacher flashed him a bright smile, bending down to look at him and his clay figure properly, “Oh! What a cute dog!” the brown clay figure with blotches of white was slightly disfigured, but Marinette could tell from it’s general shape it was supposed to be a dog, a dog with missing ears, but a dog nonetheless.

Marinette grinned cheerfully and nodded towards the others. “Is this what makes you happy?”

He didn’t hesitate to reply. “Mhm! I love my dog very much!” he raised his arms and spread them as wide apart as they could go, indicating how much he loved his pet.

Marinette’s alert gaze swept over her class, catching some students drawing quietly on some tables, others chatting energetically on the arts and crafts table with glue and colourful carton papers strewn about.

Some children were on the floor, building castles, vehicles or even people with lego blocks.

She walked around, asking every child how they were doing and if they needed any help. Marinette offered holding the tall lego tower for a girl while she got the little decorative bow on top of it, her mother’s workplace she said, a place she could play at where her mother was also nearby, because she didn’t want to be alone at home.

The next child was a boy with dark messy hair and kind brown eyes, Leon. He was drawing something.

Two people, surrounded with what looked like music notes. And what appeared to be an instrument on top of the taller figure, a guitar.

Marinette crouched down next to the table and peeked over his shoulder, giggling when he turned his head and wore a full blown grin on his face. “Miss Marinette!” her heart warmed and lips pulled into an automatic smile at his glee.

Leon was such a cheerful child. He was a walking contradiction at times, cheerful and kind but also quiet and polite, he was never mean to his classmates or teachers.

He sometimes hummed a melody during class, but quiet enough not to disturb her or anyone else, she sometimes heard it when the whole class was silent, except for Leon, who hummed a tune to himself, swinging his legs with a small smile on his face.

Marinette remembered the first time she asked him about it, the reason why he hummed and if it was a special melody.

His answer had surprised her. ‘Mhm! My dad always sings me to sleep that way! He’s really good with his voice.”

She couldn’t remember ever meeting the man, Leon’s father, she vaguely remembered jotting down a phone number as the parental contact information, but she couldn’t remember it.

The only parental figure that frequently picked Leon up from school was his aunt Juleka, whom Marinette always had pleasant conversations with. The woman was kind if a bit shy, her voluminous hair, dark save for the purple streak at the front and at the ends, half hiding her left eye. It would’ve hidden the entirety of her face if not for the hairclip holding it at bay.

Marinette couldn’t blame her, she herself normally styled her hair into pigtails, loose hair would get everywhere in her face and it was impractical for teaching.

She also experienced some of the more daring kids try to pull on it, so pigtails were always a safe bet.

Marinette focused back on the picture Leon was drawing, particularly the two figures on it. “Is that you and your dad?” she saw him nod his head, using black to colour the top of his father’s head and blue for the ends. She stifled a giggle, always amazed at how creative children could get. She saw a girl once draw her father with flowing rainbow hair and when she’d seen the man in person, he almost looked nothing alike from the childishly drawn picture his daughter portrayed him to be.

“Your dad’s hair looks cool.” She smiled, giggling at the light blue.

“Thank you.” His polite phrase made her smile and the pedagogical figure in her rejoice, she was proud whenever parents raised their children right.

Then, she pointed to the guitar over his head, his best attempt at the instrument, which Marinette had to admit was good for someone his age. “Is that your guitar?”

This time, Leon shook his head. “No, that’s my dad’s. He plays it whenever he’s home, he also plays for me.” He smiled shyly, sheepishly, rubbing his messy black hair. “Um, I tried to play once, but it fell on the ground. Dad didn’t get mad, but I felt really guilty.” His cheeks tinged pink and Marinette felt sympathy well within her heart as she placed a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“I’m sure your dad forgave you as soon as it happened, it was an accident, right? Accidents happen all the time, Leon! I dropped my mug in the kitchen today!” she giggled, cringing internally because she was known for her clumsiness.

The boy stuck his bottom lip out and shrugged. “Yeah, I guess, I still felt really bad, but dad said it was okay…” a bright smile curled his lips in the next second, eyes alight with excitement. “Miss Marinette, can I tell you a secret?” 

Marinette steeled herself, adjusting her grip on the table to support her weight. Children were honest by nature, they frequently revealed things about their home life, in extent their parents’, to the teachers. Most things weren’t bad, but very amusing, a secret source of entertainment for teachers to talk over coffee in the teacher’s lounge.

Leon whispered before she could say anything, grinning from ear to ear. “My dad is the best dad in the world!”

She blinked, surprised, but laughed at the ‘secret’, shaking her head and affectionately pinching Leon’s cheek, which made him laugh. “Really? Then I guess I should meet the best dad in the world sometime, hm? I would love to meet him.” She was being honest too.

It was important for teachers to know the parents of the children they taught and took care of through the day and their early education, knowing from what sort of familial backgrounds children came from was important to adjust their teachings or offer the appropriate help if children were surrounded by less than desirable circumstances.

Marinette doubted that was the case with Leon, but she was curious about his father, since she never met either him nor the mother.

She did hear from the aunt that his mother was working and living overseas and that the father was her older brother, but that was that.

She hadn’t thought to ask the aunt, since she thought his father would come to pick his son up himself sometime. So far, that hadn’t been the case, but Marinette could be patient.

If he was as great as Leon described, surely he would have time to drop by sometime?

Standing up, Marinette complimented the drawing one last time before she clapped her hands and announced for the children to hang up they art works somewhere in the classroom, on the walls or the strings over their heads to decorate the room with.

Weeks had already passed since the school year started and Marinette longed for something new and fresh to liven up the classroom, the children found the idea good too. It would help keep their creativity flowing and to brighten the overall atmosphere.

Her gaze strayed to the clock on the wall and a sigh left her lips.

It was almost time for the big break.

A few minutes later…

The two women laughed, Marinette stirring her coffee to dissolve the sugar as her best friend and fellow teacher Alya talked about her day. “Wait, you didn’t take the glue from him?”

The busty woman snorted, taking a big sip from her black coffee before she smirked like a fox. “Nope! I let him squeeze out every last drop, he learned his lesson when the ball rang. He had to clean up all the mess himself and he got a good scolding from his mom too. Good woman, I salute her!” she lifted her mug in a mock salute and Marinette laughed, shaking her head.

“I’m sure the boy had reasons to be so destructive.” Truthfully, children with such tendencies weren’t rare, they were aware of the phases of each child and that sometimes by destroying things, they released pent up frustration or helped themselves focus better afterwards. But this child seemed to be a bit different. “What’s his background like? The parents?”

Alya sighed, taking another long gulp. “Father’s a mechanic, has a bit of a sailor’s mouth. The mother is an iron hard business woman, she even makes me freeze on the spot whenever she comes to pick him up.” She grimaced, extending her hand to throw a sugar cube into her coffee. “I think the dynamics in the family are a bit unbalanced. The father is a bit too lenient but the mother is too strict, causing the two to clash. They’re unsure of their parenting methods, they even had a small verbal fight during parent teacher conference.”

Ugh, Marinette secretly dreaded those days, as did every other teacher.

Parents came in all shapes and sizes, just like anyone else.

There were parents who were the spitting images of their offspring, other were their polar opposites.

There were parents with impeccable backgrounds, academically successful people, but lacking in human warmth. Parents that continued the archaic parenting methods of their own parents, never intending to change the way they were raising their own children from their own childhood treatment.

Marinette disliked those the most, ones that weren’t progressive in their thinking but cocooned in their own ‘deal’ version of how a child had to behave or to what limits a parent’s authority could reach.

It was her secret pleasure whenever she had an opportunity to shoot them down  and lecture them otherwise, she lived for those moments to see the colour drain from the adult’s faces while she explained all the potential negative ways their toxicity could affect their child after, that children weren’t ‘small adults’ and that every child had different needs and required a different form of parenting finesse.

Some parents were defensive and angry like lions, others more kind and understanding and willing to better themselves and correct the errors.

In the kitchen of the teacher’s lounge, somewhere in the back of her mind, Marinette kept Leon’s picture stored in her memory and during her conversation with Alya, she wondered just what sort of parent Leon’s father was.

——–

It was two in the afternoon and classes were over for today, for the children the day of duties and learning was over.

But for Marinette, she still had tons of work to do.

She watched the children leave the classroom, watched them put on their outdoor shoes and how some parents were already waiting for them out of the classroom.

Those moments, when the parents came to pick up their children, those moments Marinette loved most.

To see the pure joy of child and parent at seeing each-other, after being separated only for a few hours. To see them kiss and embrace each-other and laugh. The parents asking about their day and the kids retelling everything they did, from the tiniest details, the most insignificant things to the big events.

The parents listened with a smile, some shutting off their phones so colleagues from work didn’t disturb them.

There were also other parents, some greeted their children with a quick hug and kiss, ushering them along so they didn’t stay away from work for too long. Others gave a robotic kiss to their cheeks and took their school bags, marching out of the school like a soldier in the military, their child trailing behind them like a doll pulled by its strings.

Marinette always stayed with the ones whose parents were running late, being met with endless exclamations of gratitude for watching over them on her break and the like, with numerous apologies spilling from their mouths about traffic and work or too many duties overlapping.

She understood, she was an adult herself, and while not a mother, Marinette knew how difficult children could be. Her past work experiences in a local kindergarten taught her the very definition of patience.

And what it means to be assertive.

Kindergarten kids could be surprisingly stubborn and with their temper tantrums, nothing was safe from them.

She remembered starting her private meditating sessions for that very reason, always after work, with or without relaxing music and her bed.

She tried a scented candle once, but nearly burned her foot after not paying attention.

Sometimes, relaxing music didn’t help, the zen-esque tunes not appealing to her at all. She sometimes wondered if the people composing the music ever really tried mediating to it.

But the most relaxing thing to her was still her other passion, besides teaching.

Fashion.

She loved to create.

She encouraged creative minds in whatever way she could.

Her own parents’ encouragement and support in her youth drove her to pursue a career in fashion, then switch over to teaching, to be in a role where she could offer the same kind of warm encouragement and fierce support children didn’t have from home.

Her wardrobe consisted of more than half of her own creations, clothes by her own design. She’d tried opening a small fashion store once, but had to close it due to time constrictions. She couldn’t do two very time consuming jobs at the same time.

It might have been ‘just’ elementary school, but correcting hundreds of students’ tests, writing new ones, overseeing several classes while attending her own educational courses took up a lot of time.

Marinette relished coming home, stretching and taking a quick shower before she set to work.

Before she opened any of her thick folders or worksheets for school, she first opened her journal.

She always liked to document things, for safety but also private reasons. As insurance and the fond – and not so fond – memories to find a home.

For that purpose, she kept two diaries.

A journal for work.

A diary for home.

Marinette took the thick leather bound tome first, a modest brown leather design, a feather imprinted onto the leathery material on the cover, the thick book held closed by a magnet.

She opened it, skimming through filled pages to get to a blank one.

And she began writing, Tikki mewling at her feet, her soft fur brushing against her legs, whiskers tickling her skin while Marinette scribbled furiously, toes gently running along Tikki’s arching back.

“Hello journal,

Today had been a good day, 24th of October.

I started class at 8 sharp, there were only two children who called in sick, with parents excusing their absences immediately.

Class began with arts and crafts, the children received instructions on the tasks for today: decorating the classroom.

The old decorations were discarded, some saved in the storage room for further use, but the broken and tattered ones disposed of. The children had to create something that made them happy, in whichever form they could. Drawing, painting, using clay or building blocks to their heart’s content.

I tried helping as little as I could, to not impede their creativity, but offered helpful advice when asked. Most used clay to form figurines of their parents, siblings or pets. Some even formed food. A few creations caught my eyes, but all of them were unique and beautiful in their own way. Some of the children took their creations home, drawings they made a second or third time mostly. But many others stayed to decorate the classroom, it gave a refreshed image and helped levitate the atmosphere.

Break was spent outside in the school garden, I led some of the children to the vegetable garden to check on the growing plants and explained some of the still budding vegetables, unrecognizable in their ‘baby form’ as the students called it.

Tasks for tomorrow were quickly finished, I worked through my fifteen minute break, the short assignments about ‘happy memories’ had been read through but refrained from correcting. It had been one of their first written tasks, so I refrained from putting a stamp on them with red markings. I’ve returned them today, for the two sick children, I kept them in my desk in the teacher’s lounge to be dealt out once the children returned.

Parents had picked their children after school was over, some running late. Ms. Wilson had a suspicious countenance in particular, I detected a faint scent of something alcoholic, but didn’t address the matter. I did send a message to social worker Chloe Bourgeois, who agreed to look into the matter after some measures. Apparently, the family had already been a case not yet laid to rest and they’d waited for a cue to finally take action.

More to come tomorrow, goodbye for now.

-          Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Marinette yawned, spying the clock on her desk reading just passed seven in the evening. Had she been sitting for that long already? She shook her head, leaning down to scratch Tikki’s head, resting languidly on Marinette’s foot.

She would need to feed her later and check her water bowl. Tikki was sometimes surprisingly gluttonous, despite her slender frame.

Stifling another yawn, Marinette safely stored the notebook in her first drawer, locking it with a key and slipping the metal into a hidden sleeve underneath her desk, well concealed from inattentive eyes.

She smiled when she grabbed her private diary, the pink leather book feeling heavy with memory in her hands.

She pulled off the leather string tying it together and flipped it open to a fresh page.

And began to write.

“Dear diary,

Today had been a stressful day.

The children were fine and well-behaved, but I had so much work to do! Not to mention, I missed one of my breaks because a colleague had called in sick unexpectedly and I had to fill their shift. Can you believe it? She couldn’t have called hours ago before school started, she HAD to call five minutes before her class started and I had to FLY across the hallway to make sure the children were inside and busy with tasks.

Sometimes, I wish I could throw a banana at some of my colleagues.

Some people just shouldn’t have become teachers.

The world would be a better place, the children growing in it too.

Speaking of children, something caught my eye today that I just couldn’t get out of my head.”

Marinette paused, tongue sticking out of her mouth as the image of Leon’s drawing burned brightly in her mind, as if she imprinted it so perfectly into memory.

“Leon drew a picture today, under the theme ‘what makes me happy’. He drew a picture of his family, his dad and him. He didn’t draw his mother and I didn’t ask, it wasn’t my place to and I doubt he’d know anything aside from ‘mommy doesn’t live with us’ or the like. At least, that’s the impression I got. But from everything I saw so far, it looked like the father didn’t live with him either. He never set foot in school before! Or at least I never saw him, Alya apparently did, but couldn’t really remember, saying it was for a short time and there were so many people.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, thinking back to the conversation she had with Alya in the kitchen.

That woman could memorize six pages of their random chats about a boy they gossiped in high school, but couldn’t, for the life of her, remember seeing the parent of one of the children at parent teacher conference two years ago. She smiled, shaking her head fondly and the pen was scratching against paper again.

“Anyway, what Miss Reporter said, Leon’s father was apparently pretty busy. She didn’t know what his occupation was, but it was the only logical conclusion, right? A man that rarely picks his son up from school? Sends his sister to do it for him? He must be some businessman. Then again, Leon mentioned how ‘he was the best dad in the world’ and he would sing and play songs for him before he went to sleep. Maybe he wasn’t so bad, but what was the deal with not coming to school? Was he a former dropout? Did he just have a phobia? Maybe he really was just too busy, but still, something’s fishy. Juleka, the aunt, mentioned how apologetic the man felt for not always being there….I guess he might not be a bad parent, but still, Leon talked so fondly of him, I really hope he isn’t the jerky parent I think he could be. I also, wondered about where the mother was. Leon rarely ever talks about her, I don’t really dare to ask neither him nor Juleka. It was a family matter after all, but still, I was biting my nails the whole time! Juleka just mentioned the mom lived and worked overseas and the dad was busy, but that was it. Were they divorced? Forced to live apart because of work? I don’t think Leon seemed to mind much, at least he hadn’t showed any signs to. He rarely talks about his mom, but he regularly gushes about his dad. Maybe I shouldn’t judge too quickly, the man could have his reasons for not picking up his child.

Still, I’ll see where that goes. Maybe I’ll try to flip through the parent contact book and try to give him a call, just to see how he would react.

Anyway, that’s all for today, I still need to feed Tikki and myself.

See you tomorrow, dear diary!

-          Marinette

Thanks for reading! What did you think so far? :)

Tag List: @seraphkitty @canadianburd @macaknight @fher43 @vivilakitty @quickspinner @im-here-for-the-content @decaffeinated-happyshit @jessigurl-design @2sunchild2 @zebrabaker @redscarlet95 @didntwant2come @graduatedmelon @eve-is-the-dawn @bresso23 @anjuschiffer @alissawhited-blog @rudy-ruby @mystery-5-5 @winter-gardenflower @kayla-the-rambling-writer @teresarosiadeviluke2112 @captainmac6 @violatiger8 @crazywhitemofo @varksvader

@veroocasanova (I’m sorry for not asking before, but I remembered you wanting to read more Lukanette fics without Adrien salt 😅)

[homenum-revelio-hq]

Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Tori!

You have been accepted for the role of HESTIA JONES! We really enjoyed the balance and realism you brought not just to Hestia’s flaws, but to the flawed world in which she (and everyone else!) lives, and we’re looking forward to all the tension this lovely little firecracker will add to the Order! We are so excited to have you as part of this roleplay!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME: Tori

AGE: 24

TIMEZONE: EST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: Well, due to classes and my internship being online now, I have lots of free time. I’ll definitely be able to check and reply throughout the week. Weekends I will be able to as well, but I  spend those days with my spouse, so I may not reply as frequently.

ANYTHING ELSE: Rape/non-con/dub-con is definitely something that needs to be tagged for me. I’m okay with most other things.

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Hestia Jones

AGE: 18

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cisgender female, she/her. Hestia is currently a bit…confused, is how I’ll put it, about her sexuality. Those types of things were taught and not mentioned a whole lot, so her attraction to women makes her feel a bit uncomfortable. And scared. But she’s interested in them.

BLOOD STATUS: Half-blood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Ravenclaw

ANY CHANGES: Nope! I love Lana as the FC!

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

Hestia is very good at thinking outside the box. Whether it comes to her ideas at her internship or fashion or even at the Order, she doesn’t do well with just sticking with the status quo. At the internship, this was easy. There were so many laws to be changed and there were all right and legal channels to go through. Her supervisors even encouraged her to keep digging! In the Order, she tries to speak up, but because she’s a low-level member, her ideas fall short. It’s frustrating. But she keeps going back to the drawing board to come up with something new. She’s not one to back down from a fight or to give up so easily.

She’s also very independent, even from a young age she liked doing things herself. She hates asking for help and admitting defeat. Her supervisors always write “Shows great initiative!” on all her reports. She’s not afraid to tell people how she feels or what she thinks should be done. She’s not afraid to get ahead of the curve, to get ahead of the trends.

Although, because she’s so full of ideas of what to do next, Hestia isn’t the best listener. It’s like she zones out the minute someone tells her what’s actually going to be done. Or what she could be doing better. At 18, Hestia thinks she’s an adult and that her ideas are just as good as anyone else’s. And sometimes that means everyone else is wrong in her eyes.

She also has a bit of internalized-homophobia and internalized-misogyny as well. It’s the early 80s and no one really talks about gay people, about those who may not be straight. At least not in a positive way. And with dealing with her own feelings of same-gender attraction, she’s trying to repress it. She has a mean jealous streak and it shows when she sees anyone who is out talking about it. How dare they feel so comfortable when she doesn’t? She’s trying to deny her own feelings and Hestia isn’t the greatest at dealing with that. It’s given her a big compulsive streak as well. She’ll go out drinking with other interns and black out, as if that’s going to help with anything. But at least it means she doesn’t have to think about her own feelings too much.

With the internalized-misogyny it’s a bit more difficult. Hestia hates the “I’m not like other girls”. The ones who think they’re better just because they’re not into fashion or doing their nails, because they’re too busy reading and being introverts. And she does kind of look down on women who aren’t as feminine.

Despite those things, she is rather welcoming and definitely is still in the fight against the oppression of muggleborns, halfbreeds and the others. She would never look down on someone because of blood or even species.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY:

Hestia grew up an only child to a muggle father, Alexander, and witch, Natalie, surrounded by all the love she could ask for. Or, at least, that’s the way she saw it. Her parents were always supportive of her aspirations and her goals. Even if her father didn’t quite understand everything that she talked about. Her parents also both worked a lot and had very well-established careers. Hestia never went without anything. But her parents made sure that their daughter didn’t grow up too spoiled. They taught her to work hard and to never stop being curious.

Hestia did grow up seeing some of the racism that her parents, and herself at times, faced. And it made her even more empathetic to the cause of fighting oppression. The fact that her parents changed their names to something more “normal” made her angry. The fact that they couldn’t truly be themselves. While her parents didn’t instill this fight in her, she has it because of them indirectly.

OCCUPATION:

She is still a law intern in the Department of Magical Law. It becomes a struggle to go in each and every morning, knowing that she’s lying to everyone there on what she’s doing. On who she is. But currently it’s the most moral way to change the laws. The Order certainly isn’t holding any protests or petitioning the Minster, that’s for sure. Still, she hates holding this secret in and sooner or later she’s afraid she might just spill the beans.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

She’s a low-level member and quite frankly, she’s tired of not being heard. Of being looked down upon because she’s not in the inner-circle. As if cliques at Hogwarts weren’t annoying enough. She knows she’s smart and more than capable with a wand, so why won’t they listen to her? Would it be so terrible to listen to the low-level, and quite young, members?

She also just has a lot of complicated thoughts, because she’s still working for the Ministry. If they found out what she was a part of they’d…well, Hestia doesn’t want to think about that. Going to meetings and headquarters gives her so much anxiety that she’s hardly able to sleep at night. Is this the right thing to do? She’s never been one to follow what people tell her to do, to behave how people want her to, but this? This is something else entirely. And it feels like no traction is being made. Voldemort and the Death Eaters just seem to be getting stronger and more powerful. Hestia joined to make a difference, but all she’s doing is getting ignored.

Hestia also sees the wear and tear it has on members like Fabian, who rushes head first into danger. Who looks like he’s dead behind his eyes. If this organization is doing so much good (supposedly!) then why is Fabian on the edge of suicide?

SURVIVAL:

Hestia’s safety net is her internship, is the Ministry. As much as the Order hates them, she needs them to stay alive. If she doesn’t have that, then she’s not sure what she’ll have. Where she’ll go. If something happens to the Order, she’ll keep her internship and hopefully get a job at the Department of Magical Law. Having a secret life isn’t ideal, but she’s glad her more public life is the one with the Ministry. Hestia is 18 and thinks that maybe she can still change laws and the Ministry from the inside.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Hestia is very busy between the internship and the Order, but she tries to spend time with her friends. To go out to the pubs with them (and maybe drinks far too much). She’s not interested in a full-fledged long-term relationship at the moment, but she wouldn’t mind some company. A friends-with-benefits situation. Hestia has no idea how her friendships are staying above water with everyone so stressed and worn-out all the time. Maybe it’s because alcohol hides that for a moment, or maybe they’re all just very good at pretending.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS: I ship chemistry above all else. I don’t really have any anti-ships besides no chemistry.

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

I like to think that since Hestia comes from a fairly well-to-do family, she doesn’t really get poverty. She doesn’t understand that some people can’t just shop all the time or get their nails or hair done. Obviously, she’s around some Weasley members, but she just doesn’t get why they don’t just work harder. Like her parents.

I mentioned above her internalized-homophobia, so there’s that as well.

Part of her has a hard time looking at the bad parts of the Ministry, because she works there and Amelia is so supportive. She’d rather just keep her head in the sand when it comes to the not-so morally upright things they do. I think of the line from Rogue One where Jyn says it’s not a problem if you don’t look up [and see the Imperial flag]. That’s Hestia about the Ministry most of the time.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO?

Getting to explore her emotions and feelings about working for both the Order and the Ministry. How complicated that is, how it compromises her at times. It’s a very interesting dynamic.

PLOT DROP IDEAS (OPTIONAL):

This might be something the Amelia mun and I work out, but I absolutely want Amelia to find out at some point. And to explore how that changes their relationship. Or even if someone else finds out Hestia is part of the Order.

ANYTHING ELSE? That’s all!

[merrylittlehogwartsrp]

Happy Holidays, Taylor! We are thrilled to “invite” Ginny Weasley (fc Luca Hollestelle) back to Hogsmeade for a little forced Winter Cheer. We particularly liked the references to Tom Riddle’s past possession and are looking forward that nuance in game. You requested change has been approved and will be included in Ginny’s updated bio (to be posted shortly).

Please pack your bags and send in your tumblr. Additional information can be found here!

OOC DETAILS:

NICKNAME: Taylor

AGE (must be 18+): 27

PRONOUNS: She/Her

ACTIVITY ESTIMATE: Moderate - full time job, holidays - but I have a week off for Christmas coming up soon :)

CHARACTER DETAILS:

FULL NAME & NICKNAMES: Ginevra “Ginny” Molly Weasley. Some of her friends call her Gin.

BIRTHDATE: August 11th, 1981

BLOOD-STATUS: Pureblood

* GENDER IDENTITY: Cisgender Female

* GENDER PRESENTATION/PRONOUNS: She/Her

* SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Ginny’s sexuality is bisexual.

CHARACTER SITUATION:

OCCUPATION: Chaser for the Hollyhead Harpies

HOUSING: Hollyhead Harpies housing - not every teammate lives together, but a bunch of the single women stay in a team owned house - much like a sorority.

SOCIAL STANDING: Born a pureblood, poor upbringing, but now that she’s rather famous she’s making a good income and helps out her parents and other family members should they need it.  

CHARACTER CONFIGURATION:

TALENTS/WEAKNESSES -

Talent: Quidditch & Athletics, Hexes, Impressions

Weakness: Potions, Sleep Paralysis (she’s been getting it since the Diary), Focus on anything she’s not committed too (her grades in 6th and 7th year are absolutely wretched - she’s lucky she graduated)

STRENGTHS/FLAWS - two or three of each (personality not skills!)

Strengths: Loyal, Protective, Hardworking, Accepting, Patient with certain people, Funny

Flaws: Obsessive, Can shutdown to protect herself emotionally, Grudge holder, Hot-headed with certain people, Judgemental to non-misfits (Fleur, Cho, Slytherins, anyone she thinks might have it a bit too easy she’s a bit harder on)

CHARACTER HISTORY: please write one short paragraph for each. (I’m so sorry. What is short?

FAMILY BACKGROUND

Growing up, Ginny’s life was ordinary. Well as ordinary as it could be for a lower-income wizarding family of nine, in which she was only special because of her gender. It was a novelty, being the only girl in a gaggle of vivid ginger boys, whom all had a booming personality that internally struggled to shine amongst each other. That being said, Ginny’s childhood was happy. Loving parents who had come out of the first war with themselves intact and enough love to go around their large lot. One by one, all of Ginny’s brothers turned of age to attend school, making the months between September and May lonelier, until it was only her and Ron. It was due to this that she had grown a kinship with the boy who was only a year older. Mud puddles and pretend, debating whether the Harpies or the Cannons were the superior team (obviously the Harpies!). That is until Ron turned eleven and everything changed. Harry Potter returned to the wizarding world, and invaded their lives as Ron Weasley’s best mate.

It was safe to say that Ginny was immediately infatuated. The first celebrity she’d ever had the pleasure of meeting with just a simple smile at King’s Cross, followed by a lonely year alone. It was spent mostly using the Bill’s old broom he’d left behind in the shed to practice quidditch and counting down the days until she was at Hogwarts with her brothers, making friends, and chatting with the Boy Who Lived.

Except that wasn’t what happened. Ron had moved on, found a kinship with Harry and Hermione that didn’t have room for her, and instead she was left to figure it out on her own. But she wasn’t alone. No, she had found a friend in a book, only a week before school and he had twisted it’s grip into her heart and fed on all of her insecurities. Isolating her from those that were her age, with every heartfelt secret she gave him, the more pull Tom Riddle had until he was finally controlling her completely. It was truly terrifying. Missing moments, blood on her hands, her peers turning up petrified as a villain whispered in her ear. How was it that someone could tear a person apart while still making them feel like he was the only one that understood or cared? A master manipulator, it took her months before Ginny tried to get rid of the diary. At first she suspected she was going mad, but it had fallen into Harry’s possession and in her first act of Gryffindor bravery, she had to steal it back.

But regaining the diary simply gave Tom her power again, allowing him to use her as a pawn to draw the “Boy Who Supposedly Destroyed Voldemort” into the Chamber. It was her life-force that almost brought Tom Riddle back into his youth, but when she awoke she was free. Free to confess to Harry what had been going on for all those months, and it was with him she returned from the chamber.

After Tom, she was left to pick up the pieces. Over the years she found a friend in Hermione, who urged her to be herself. In Neville, who accompanied her to the Yule Ball just so she could take part, and in Luna, who was intuitive and open-minded. She dated people who saw her as more than just another Weasley and killed it on the quidditch pitch after all those years practicing alone. Dark times arrived, Ginny stepped up, becoming one of the original members of Dumbledore’s Army and even helping to suggest it’s infamous name. Rebellion is in her blood after all, and when Harry, Ron and Hermione planned to flee for the Ministry in order to save Sirius, she fought to follow along.

It was as if she was finally being seen. Not only by her family and peers, but after that by Harry as well. She could feel his gaze when she entered a room, heard it in his laugh that his heart was a little lighter when they smiled about the same stupid thing. She knew that that she didn’t know everything, and that peace wouldn’t last, but when he caught her in his arms that day in the common room and kissed her in front of everyone Ginny felt like she might explode with happiness. Finally she was out of her shell, absolutely vibrant and it had gotten her what she wanted all those years ago.

And yet their relationship was short lived, not because they didn’t want one another, but because duty called. Dumbledore left Harry a nearly impossible mission and the world fully knew the danger that was about to embark. Her eldest brother’s wedding proved that, as chaos reigned on Bill and Fleur’s guests. Another reminder that they were at war, as Ron and his friends left without a word. Ginny left to pick up the pieces once again.

LIFE DURING THE WAR

Ginny held her own during the war. Returning to school with Neville and Luna, they started up Dumbledore’s Army and housed students who needed safe-keeping in the Room of Requirements. She was headstrong and defiant, breaking rules and refusing to hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it. This caused a lot of problems.Sometimes only for Ginny, or the other DA leaders, who would take the punishment tenfold knowing that no one would follow someone who had cursed them earlier that day. Sometimes for the student that they were told to torture, who would then have their caster replaced by someone much more malicious. Someone who wouldn’t dare take it as easy on them as another DA member.

It’s Ginny who remembers the Sword of Gryffindor though. Remembers Harry killing the Basalisk with it, the first “Fuck you” to Tom she could associate anything with. It ended up with Snape finding them, not knowing what to do except hurt them (though less so then the Cruciatus) and send them off to detention for the next unknowable future. Except it’s Hagrid she’s with, and at least she’s out of the castle. Anything is better than the castle.

When Luna gets ripped from her arms by Death Eaters though she thinks it might be over. Her and Neville end up crying alone when no one else is looking and she feels like her whole body is being ripped apart. Her best friend! How could this happen?!

Eventually the Weasley name is too much danger though, her association as Harry Potter’s love interest - even after the break up - forces her into hiding and Neville’s left on his own, though he insists. She hugs him goodbye so tightly she’s forced away from him by her father and off to a safehouse they go, only to return for the battle of Hogwarts at the end of the school year.

LAST THREE YEARS

She lost a brother in that battle. Lost so many friends. The whole summer is funerals and mourning, and she hates how much her mother cries. She’s almost relieved to go back to school and nurse her heartache away from her family, away from Harry whom never really comes back to her. And yet with the castle rebuilt and the Death Eater’s gone, nothing is right. She barely goes to class (which has Hermione a tizzy) and spends almost all of her time on the Quidditch pitch - a golden Captain’s pin on her robes. She gets good. Really bloody good, better than anyone else in school. It’s the only way she gets to sleep at night, exhausted from running drills and practicing til her pale body is littered with dark bruises and her muscles are sore. She likes the ache though, the fact that it’s self-inflicted instead of being given to her as punishment.

She gets recruited at the end of the year by the Hollyhead Harpies, and after graduation she moves from the Burrow to the Harpy House with the other girls. It’s her first time in a sisterhood, her first time surrounded by women who understand her, the first time she’s seen as really fucking good at something and she loves it. Loves the distraction. Loves the whirlwind nature of the job, loves the fact that she can send money back to her parents so they can live comfortably (even with one less son). Loves the fact that she has her own room, and when she wakes up at night unable to move there’s no one there to judge her, no one there to notice that Tom looks at her from the corner of the shadows. Loves the fact that it’s nowhere near Hogwarts at all.  

HOLIDAY DETAILS:

Just dinner with the family, opening presents to reveal her mother’s homemade knitted sweaters, and listening to Celestina Warbeck warble through the Burrow. Her family isn’t religious, but they celebrate Christmas every year as an opportunity to spend time together. While Ginny doesn’t go home as often as she should these days, she never misses a holiday - she couldn’t do that to her mum. It’s been a bit odd ever since Fred passed, but it seems they’re getting somewhat used to it. Minus George… they’re all pretty sure George won’t ever get used to a Christmas without his twin.

OOC SUPPLEMENT:

SHIPS: I’m a total sucker for Hinny, but up for anything really.

CHANGES: Ginny doesn’t torture anyone while in school. She’s more likely to defy orders from the Death Eaters in school and make everything worse, or take the punishment herself. I firmly believe that her, Neville and Luna doesn’t harm any of the DA due to believing that no one would follow them if they did. Their purpose in Hogwarts was to try and be a safe space and protector, as well as mess things up for the Death Eaters. I think, while sometimes it would be the logical choice to just do it and go easy on the other students, the proud Gryffindor in Ginny would flat out refuse no matter the consequences.

FACECLAIM: Luca Hollestelle or Rose Leslie

[harmcomforts]

anyone else love going through ridiculous dumbass drama in the rpc where grown adults act like high schoolers??? bc i do

[acuppellarp]

Welcome to A Cup-pella, Mads! We’re excited to have you and Grace Fitzgerald in the game! Please go through the checklist to make sure you’re ready to go and send in your account within the next 24 hours.

OOC INFO

Name + pronouns: Mads & she/her Age: 24 Timezone: MST Ships: Chemistry Anti-Ships: Forced

IC INFO

Full Name: Grace Lynn Fitzgerald Face Claim: Kelsey Chow Age/Birthday: 25 / August 13th, 1992 Occupation: 3rd Grade Teacher / Newly Recruited to April’s Showers (Forward) Personality: intelligent, judgmental, perpetually insecure, curious, impulsive, well-traveled, resilient Hometown: Greensboro, Georgia Bio: Christianity isn’t something to mess around with. At least, that’s what Grace’s parents always told her. God would provide when no one else could and there was nothing more to say than that. Charles and Rebecca (nee Chen) Fitzgerald raised their three daughters – Grace, Faith, and Hope to be strong women of faith who never backed down no matter what was thrown at them. Church and religion were spoken about more than any struggles they may face as mixed, privileged women. In fact, their race was rarely spoken about (mostly only for college applications). When life was hard, you got on your knees and prayed. When you felt like everything against you, the response you got was ‘God isn’t’. Bible beating, Catholic guilt kind of feelings were all that were allowed in the Fitzgerald household.

So, imagine being fifteen and the only person who makes your heart skip a beat is your best friend. Your best friend who is a woman. Somewhere along the line, she wasn’t sure when, Grace was taught that men and women were meant to be together. God designed them specifically for that, but when Lucy’s lips touched hers and the entire world washed away? How could that be wrong? Of course, it wasn’t like ridding oneself of consistently patterned brainwashing was all that easy. The amount that Lucy made her feel was… well, beyond explanation, even to this day.

The kissing, cuddling, and all kinds of big feelings were everything to Grace, no matter how much she wanted to deny that fact. It was mere months that it lasted before she had to stop it. Before the Catholic guilt almost ate her alive and the little jokes her sisters made actually got to her. But no one knew. Not a soul had ever found out and maybe that was why Grace pushed Lucy to date men and they’d be best friends no matter what. The kissing wasn’t what made them friends. Their unending love was. But friends didn’t get jealous when other friends made out with boys or held their hands. High school was hard, but stuffing your gay in the closet was harder.

When Lucy left Greensboro, it was almost impossible for Grace to come back from. She threw everything she had into school and trying to distract herself from the broken heart that would never truly heal. Mathletes was her ultimate companion, clinging to numbers was the only thing she truly knew how to do. That, and her Quarterback boyfriend who was incredibly attractive. Or, so she was told. Men still didn’t have much of an effect on her and maybe that was for the best.

By the time she graduated high school there was already a ring on her finger and her parents couldn’t be more proud. Wedding bells rang with her hellish husband at the end of the aisle, Xanax in her system and her sisters by her side. Why she wasn’t able to stop herself from living a life for other people, she still doesn’t know, but it all happened so fast. The marriage. The failed attempt to bear children. The lack of ability to connect to her husband. The divorce. Grief rippled through her over and over again and it felt that with a snap of her fingers, 22 year old Grace Fitzgerald was back on her knees, this time cursing God instead of praising him.

After her world came crashing down right before her eyes, the world she had worked so hard to achieve, there was only one thing a woman could do. Run. So, Grace immediately left Greensboro, fled to California and found a home there. A home where those around her gave her the freedom to be herself. A home that allowed for exploration of half of her ancestry she’d never known. A home where weekends in San Francisco opened up the gates of the grief her heart held onto. A home where late night glasses of wine turned into tear filled confessions that did more than a Catholic one ever had. A home that showed her who she truly was - a fiercely strong, empowered, gay, half Chinese woman.

It was when she came to terms with herself a few years after moving to California that she decided to limit communication with her family. All of them had given her enough flack for not having children and then for getting divorced. Ties with family were somewhat shortened and the sunshine was just a little too much. Too much blaspheme, too much anger, too much uncertainty. In fact, all of the time she’d spent worrying so much about her family was now energy she put into running an LGBT+ sports(kickball, soccer, tennis) league just outside of San Francisco. She learned a lot about herself, the community, and gained an intense love for the sport she’d never imagined: Soccer. All of her time after being divorced and moving away, Grace spent any breaks she had traveling – it was what had sparked her love for New York in the first place. For all that California was to her, New York City was calling her name.

So, Grace moved to New York City a few months ago, filling a position at the school just after a faculty member decided to leave mid-year. Becoming involved with school things and trying to find a community she can call her own like she had back in California are proving to be difficult (hence her trying out for April’s Showers). But if Grace is anything, it’s resilient.

Pets: Grace has a 2 year old British short hair munchkin cat named Raya that she was gifted by a friend in California when they could no longer keep her. The cat’s name was originally Ray, but it soon became obvious that she was most definitely a female cat. (fc: @littlemunchiepooky)

RELATIONSHIPS

Lucy Quinn Fabray

Never quite lovers, but practically so in every way. Big feelings were had and the relationship that Grace chose to sever in the first place has haunted her ever since. There was so much that she experienced with the blonde and so much that she desired that she has never been able to fully shut down. With a relationship where everything prohibited was all that they wanted, Grace’s past with Quinn is likely to influence a lot of her time in New York.

Rowan Flanagan, Samantha Evans, and Fiona Hudson

All four of the girls work at the same Elementary school and are bound to run into each other from time to time. It’s been such a short amount of time that Grace has been working there that she feels she can’t actually say if they get along or not.

April’s Showers

As the newest recruit, it’s unlikely that she’s gotten close to most (if any) of the girls on the team. In order to foster a new community for herself and a large, unknown city, Grace has dedicated herself to the team even if she’s only been part of it for a brief time. Of course, the fact that her first lady love is on the team too is bound to cause some sort of internal conflict.

EXTRA INFO

Twitter name/twitter URL/description: g. fitzgerald / @savegrace / we could never learn to be brave or patient if there were only joy in the world. ((teaching kids that life is hard one day at a time.))

Five latest tweets:

@savegrace: hi @olivegarden – love you, miss you, just thought you should know xo @savegrace: Yet another day where my eyes won’t open fully. Do you think parents notice or just think I’m extra Asian?? @savegrace: sorry for last night’s live tweeting of are you smarter than a fifth grader?… I felt some type of way. @savegrace: if I wear black to school one more day this week, do you think my boss will comment on it again? @savegrace: flight attendant: “we’ve landed 36 minutes ahead of schedule. So, next time you fly with us and we’re late, let’s call it even.” #myhero #usingthisforwork

[alphawolfice1989]

Kevin the Villain

I noticed something this time that I don’t think I ever have before. I always assumed that Kevin knew Robin was going to break up with him and that he also knew she cheated with Barney because there’s just no way that he COULDN’T know when they’ve showed him as being so perceptive in the other episodes, including the very last one – and Barney’s coming right and saying they just cheated together. But this time I noticed when Robin goes to tell Kevin on the boat but it gets interrupted because the intern throws a drink, we’re being shown Sandy hitting on the intern but directly behind them, although you can’t hear what Robin is saying to Kevin, you can see Robin talking and she looks very grave. Whatever she’s saying has got Kevin looking very serious and grave too. Meaning Robin was starting to break up with him right then. We know from other episodes she’s terrible at breakups, so she was probably starting to launch into one of the clichéd breakup preambles that everybody recognizes. There is no doubt in my mind that Kevin absolutely knew she was trying to break up with him on that boat, so when she starts in again at the hospital he 100% knows what is coming. In that ER, Kevin is so manipulative that it just enrages me, like blood-pressure-is-skyrocketing enrages me. He knows that Robin cheated with Barney and he knows that she wants to break up with him, most likely FOR Barney. I mean, she already started to break up with him. Kevin is fully aware what’s about to happen, so when she tries again he purposefully blocks her, jumping in with “Me first!” and fortuitously choosing this very unromantic time and setting to say ‘I love you’ for the first time because it’s all pure manipulation. Still, Robin asks to jump in with her thing – in other words, she’s still planning to dump him. But Kevin’s not having any part of it. He knows if he keeps interrupting her he can say the right things to push all her buttons (buttons he knows from being her therapist) and manipulate her into changing her mind. It’s so creepy and disturbing and just plain WRONG. When Robin stops him a third time, clearly responding poorly to his ‘I love you’ and instead saying there’s something she has to tell him, any fool would know that means she doesn’t love you back and wants to break it off. Kevin’s response is that as a therapist he knows simply because something needs to be told doesn’t mean it needs to be heard. That is the exact opposite of the point of therapy. The point of therapy is to NOT keep things bottled up inside. The very point of therapy is to talk about these things that need to be said, to work through them. He’s just blatantly lying to her, and for someone with all these degrees he must know that. 

But still Robin’s soldiers on with her breakup attempt and desire to get to Barney – and that’s when Kevin really steps up the manipulation. Robin has this guilt-stricken, broken down look on her face as she tells him “I did something bad”. I feel like in that moment Robin is actually looking more to Therapist Kevin than she is to Boyfriend Kevin (which just goes to show that she should have stayed in therapy all this time!). She’s got all this guilt and shame on her back, building on a lifetime of already feeling like she’s unlovable and not good enough. Robin thinks she’s a horrible person and a mess. Her eyes are filled with tears she’s so distraught about this, desperately looking for emotional and psychological grounding, for someone to tell her that she ISN’T a mess, to tell her that she can still get it together and have a ‘normal’, happy life. Unfortunately, Barney only confirmed the whole mess idea with his answer because he doesn’t understand where Robin’s coming from psychological. But Kevin does because he acted as her therapist. It’s because of this that he can tell her exactly what he knows she needs to hear – that we’ve all done bad things and it doesn’t make you a bad person, that he doesn’t care what she did, that he loves her anyway. All of this is absolutely designed to play on her insecurities and self-doubts and self-hate by giving her that absolution and validation that she desperately craves. And at the same time, it’s also doing so in the most emotionally abusive way. He’s essentially saying, “You don’t have to feel guilty. I’m telling you it’s alright; I can forgive and overlook these horrible things about you IF you commit to me from now on”. It’s such a psychological guilt trip. He’s willing to give her absolution, which she already feels like she doesn’t deserve, but at a price. And even after all that, Robin’s still not entirely convinced or ready to give up on leaving him for Barney. Instead she poses the same question she put to Barney – and that’s what ultimately tips the scales. Kevin tells her, “You’re amazing, you’re entrancing, every little thing you do is wonderful, you’re so beautiful”. For somebody who’s inherently lacking self-confidence, particularly in this moment, that’s exactly what she needs to hear. Barney absolutely feels that same way about her, and a thousand times stronger. He could wax poetic about her for hours, but he doesn’t understand that’s what she needs. He doesn’t get that she has to hear that because he thinks it’s just an obvious given that of course she knows he thinks she’s wonderful. It’s only Kevin who has the rare psychological insight into the full depth of Robin’s self-esteem issues, both because he’s professionally trained and because he specifically acted as her therapist, using that training to break into her psyche. And here he uses all of that knowledge for evil, preying on Robin’s self-loathing and insecurity to get her to stay with him, all the way down to telling her that if they’re together long enough then one day she can see herself the way that he sees her – in another words, ‘I can fix you and make you no longer a mess. But you have to stay with me’. Kevin should have been helping her anyway as her therapist, but instead his desire for her makes him demand a price; I can fix you but you have to keep being my girlfriend. It’s so creepy and disturbing.

As many times as I’ve watched this episode, it’s always been Barney falling against the bar in pain at the end that captures you. But what stroke me this time around was that in the very scene, in that very moment when Barney is obviously distraught and Robin too just looks so empty and broken and miserable and RESIGNED – definitely not like a woman who’s happy to start a life with Kevin from this day forward – in that very freeze frame, Kevin is just sitting there grinning smugly and laughing like a cocky jerk knowing what he’s done, pleased that his manipulation was successful and rather than breaking up with him like she wanted a beaten-down Robin stays and HE gets to win.

I’ve hated Quinn long and hard to the depths of me, but after this rewatch I honestly feel like Kevin is the biggest villain in the history of HIMYM. None of them – not Quinn, not Shannon, not Greg, not Ted – none of them top Kevin’s sheer manipulation and selfish, cruel intent.

I’m obviously not yet up to 7.13-7.15, but I wanted to participate in the poll and come back later with more specific comments.

All of these second half of Season 7 episodes seem very manic and scattered, filled with desperate, crazy, over-the-top behavior, but if I had to chose a favorite from this bunch I’d have to go with “The Burning Beekeeper”. There are elements of “Tailgate” that are amusing and enjoyable, but ultimately Kevin’s very presence and trying to horn in on Ted and Barney, his continued manipulation of Robin, and his “That’s my girl!” comment make me seriously want to murder him.

But “The Burning Beekeeper” is one of only three episodes in the second half of the season that isn’t mired down with the presence of an outside love interest, AND we have the gang all together in one place for the entire episode. There’s also significant B/R interaction (Barney going to Robin for attention, Barney reminding her of their sexual history, Robin being so concerned for him, Robin admitting she’s uncomfortable talking about his sex life with other women), and Barney and Robin individually are so obviously distraught after what’s happened between them. Overall it’s a good representation of the characters and where they’re currently at without being offensive and OOC. Certainly, there’s so much more they could have done with “The Burning Beekeeper” and they tease a lot of potential that winds up being nothing, but I still find it one of the most inoffensive of Season 7’s second half.

For me, “46 Minutes” has to be the worst. The gang is divided with M/L splintering off for no reason whatsoever when they hate the suburbs and they’ll ultimately want to come back after just a few weeks anyway. Barney’s being over-the-top in his womanizing stripper behavior (but I do give him a pass because I understand why , and he doesn’t actually do anything with the women). But it’s really Kevin, again, that makes it so terrible - and even more so Robin’s behavior with Kevin. In “46 Minutes” Robin comes off even more as the broken down woman: doing whatever she thinks Kevin wants though she hates it, afraid to speak up and express her wants and needs, playing the role of the good little girlfriend for him, submitting to him sexually now. It all feels like a very emotionally abusive relationship to me. She’s not even being herself; she’s like Pod Robin. I want to get her out of there and get her help, like I’m rescuing her from a cult! And once again it’s disturbing to me that none of her friends recognize that or point that out. Even Future Ted writes it off as “early in any relationship, there’s a phase where you don’t say no to anything because you want to seem interesting, adventurous, and open-minded. I call it Early Relationship Chicken”. Uh, that’s not a thing - and if it is a thing for you then you’re dating incorrectly and probably have a very dysfunctional love life. If you can’t say ‘no’ to this person or turn down things you don’t want to do because they won’t like you, then you need to break it off as soon as possible. Early in the relationship is the best time to find that out.

http://barneyrobin.livejournal.com/1222815.html

[merryfae]

Yall mind if I rant: The Sequel Nobody Wanted

The newest comic got me to question my stance on Korra/sami yet again (the dashes here exist to keep it out of the tags, just in case that’s still a problem). The short version of this is that my stance really hasn’t changed. (Also, just a headsup, I haven’t read my old anti k/s post in a long time, but it’s probably full of logical fallacies and the lot, so…what I’m getting at here is please don’t judge me based on what I’ve written in the past). 

I remember when I loved LOK. Book 1, I was able to look past the flaws, because the tension, characters, and atmosphere was so good. Book 2, the flaws became harder to overlook, but the Avatar Wan episode was definitely an experience. Book 3 was an entirely solid outing, though I missed some of that original atmosphere from Book 1. And then Book 4. I was so excited for the finale, because Book 4, despite its flaws, had been pretty great. But through the majority of the finale I was thinking to myself, “is that it?” Like, don’t get me wrong, there were some good fight scenes between Korra and Kuvira, and Mako’s sacrifice was pretty powerful, but most of it was underwhelming. It felt less like a wrap up of the show, and more like a wrap up of that season. Nothing from past seasons really tied together with the exception of the spirit portal. Plot elements from past seasons that could have been integrated into the show were dropped altogether. I don’t know. It was disappointing. 

So I was already in a bad mood, and the entire ending with Korra//sami kind of killed it even more for me. Because representation is important, no doubt. I push for it a lot myself. But not when it impedes the storytelling. The storytelling of LOK? Didn’t warrant it. This is coming from someone who, at the start of Book 3, loved the idea of Korra/sami. Their interaction in the car? Adorable. Asami sparring with Korra? Great. But there was nothing in future episodes to build up to a romantic conclusion. There was a scene where Korra blushed when receiving a complement from Asami. That’s the only scene between Korra and Asami that implied romantic intent. That and Mako’s whole, “What is with you two???” thing when they all go out for lunch, but goodness, if that wasn’t the most forced, inconsequential conflict I’ve seen in this series. I mean, if you have to tell the audience that there’s something going on between these characters instead of showing us, maybe there’s a reason a portion of your audience didn’t latch on to your intent. 

The problem with every scene where Asami and Korra interact (aside from the fact that they don’t bond over internal, character-building struggles, and instead just solve external problems together) is that most scenes are just Asami supporting Korra emotionally. Which, okay, for another character, that could imply romance. However, Asami’s character is already naturally caring and nurturing. She was already a character who was entirely supportive of the rest of the cast, so it’s no stretch of the imagination by any means to view her supporting Korra with tea or her offering intimate support when Korra is devastated in the Book 3 finale as inherently platonic. And, given that she was a support figure already, Korra sending her letters that the others “wouldn’t understand” can likewise read as platonic. This would be different if a character like, say, Opal interacted with Korra in similar ways after her introduction, a character who did not exist to offer unconditional support to our main leads already throughout the show, and whom Korra alternatively exhibits support for in Book 3 (or maybe I just really like their air bending scene together. I don’t know. Don’t hold me to that one). And that covers basically all of Korra and Asami’s interactions – Asami offering Korra support, and Korra accepting (usually) that support. That is, aside from those short (very short) but sweet moments at the beginning of Book 3. Plus, Book 4 takes place after a years-long gap as well, so the fact that we’re only shown them interacting once outside of the finale in Book 4 really speaks volumes. Which is not to mention that, aside from that last scene they have together, they hardly interact in the finale at all. I wanted to like this ship. I really, really did. But not when the writing didn’t add up. 

And then there’s the fact that Bryke’s claims that Korra/sami was intended from the beginning are obviously false. I mean, they’re on record saying that after Book 2, relationship drama had come to an end, and they were ready to focus on friendship. If I remember correctly, the voice actors had to be called back in after the finale had already been finished in order to include that last scene with Korra and Asami. It was literally last minute. 

It certainly doesn’t help that I dislike basically every ship in LOK. I never liked B/opal either. I didn’t like M/asmi, and Ma/korra didn’t have the best development itself. Honestly, I don’t think Bryke are good at writing romance period. But I’m angrier about Korra/sami, because not only is it a relationship involving the show’s main character, but it’s the central focus of the scene that ended the entire show. Say what you want about Kat/aang, but at least that ship was planned and introduced beyond minimal amounts of subtext from day one. It was a consistent part of the story. And alternatively, if LOK had ended with Ma/korra like it did in Book 1, I wouldn’t be necessarily pleased with it, but at least there was a textual history there between the two. 

And I hear the arguments about how Bryke couldn’t include textual evidence of Korra/sami because it was a ship between two women. Okay, point taken. I mean, they did admit that they didn’t even bother asking Nick until last minute, but I digress. But jeez, you could at least develop their relationship a bit, couldn’t you? Again, the only conflicts these two face together are external ones. Korra and Asami fight a gang. Asami carries Korra away from danger while Mako and Bolin fight off baddies. Korra and Asami escape/crash/rebuild an airship. In none of these scenes together do they have any meaningful interactions. Maybe you could count Korra grinning at Asami for two seconds while they rebuild the airship. Maybe. But they don’t bond over anything or talk about anything except what’s happening to them at the hands of outside forces (or essentially, what’s relevant to the plot). Hence why Asami’s offer of unconditional support of Korra in the Book 3 finale rings a little hollow. It’s just Asami doing what she’s been doing the whole time, albeit with a more emotional framing. 

And all this could all lead me to explaining why I didn’t like the conclusion of Korra’s character arc, or why I didn’t like how Asami was essentially a plot device until Book 3, and even then, she wasn’t given any real development. (In fact, I’m actually kind of bitter that the show didn’t write Asami better. Her entire character basically revolved around A) the love triangle nonsense or B) her father/company). But if I were to go in depth with that, it’d take another thousand or so words, and I’m amazed I even had the drive to write this whole thing in the first place. In short, the show really is a mess. 

Now, I’m only writing all this because I’ve seen panels from the comic. The first few panels I saw, I figured I shouldn’t judge too harshly. I didn’t see enough of the actual comic to draw a conclusion. But with the new ones out, it’s safe to say that the comic seems relatively out of character for both Korra and Asami. Seriously, maybe one sentence in there sounded like it could come from Korra. I implore you all to switch the dialogue and pretend Korra is saying Asami’s lines, and Asami is saying Korra’s. Do you feel the character-charged dialogue? Me neither. And anywho, I’m a bit frustrated people are hailing Korra/sami as the epitome of representation when it’s really…not. It’s hard seeing Korra develop into a nearly unrecognizable character for me, because she was the saving grace of the show from day one. 

Korra/sami isn’t the only ship that’s frustrated me like this. I downright despise several forced ships in fictional media, especially when it’s detrimental to a character’s development. I didn’t like J/ashi from Samurai Jack. Krist/anna or Kristoff/anna or whatever the heck it’s called from Frozen was pretty awful. Several Marvel movies (of which I am a fan) have awful romance subplots (Sta/ron and Bruce/nat are the biggest offenders). At the end of the day, Korra/sami isn’t the biggest offender. It does offer quality bi representation between two WOC. But that doesn’t mean we have to like it. Go ahead and enjoy your ooc comics folks. Who knows. Maybe it’ll actually be good. 

[joie-university-rp]

Dear, SANTANA LOPEZ,

It is with great pleasure we invite you admission to Joie University! Welcome to the Thunderclap family!

–

Congratulations, MEG! Please be sure to check the New Members’ Checklistand send in your character’s account within 24 hours from now. We cannot wait to see all that you will bring to this roleplay! We love you already!

OOC INFORMATION:

Name/Alias; preferred pronouns: Meg, She/her

Age, Timezone: 27, EST

Activity, short explanation: On at least an hour a day

Ships: Brittana, Santina, Quinntana, Pezberry, Dantana, Santana/Chemistry, Santana/Ladies, Santana/Beards

Anti-Ships: Santana/No Chemistry, Santana/Male!Endgame

Triggers: N/A

Preferred photo for Character’s ID (please give a link): https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5816992f03596e7961cde70d/1551310304456-WUMEDVP6UMM352FJAT3V/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kCf3-plT4th5YDY7kKLGSZN7gQa3H78H3Y0txjaiv_0fDoOvxcdMmMKkDsyUqMSsMWxHk725yiiHCCLfrh8O1z4YTzHvnKhyp6Da-NYroOW3ZGjoBKy3azqku80C789l0h8vX1l9k24HMAg-S2AFienIXE1YmmWqgE2PN2vVFAwNPldIHIfeNh3oAGoMooVv2g/3+%281%29.jpg

Anything else: I will be replacing Mike with Santana - and I will repurpose his blog for her as well.

IC INFORMATION:

Full Name (First, Middle, Last): Santana Isabel Lopez

FC: Emeraude Toubia

Age/Year at University (Freshman [1st Year], Sophomore, Junior, Senior, or Graduate Student): 21, Junior

Birth date: November 11th, 1997

Hometown (please be sure to check the hometowns listed for characters your muse is related to!): Miami, Florida

Gender/Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: CLOSETED Lesbian

Major(s): Medical Sciences

Minor(s) [optional]: Cardiology

Housing request (remember, only the president of a Greek Organization is required to live at a Greek House to be in it!): Mu Sigma double suite (or presidential suite since Spencer isn’t living there if that’s possible)

Extracurriculars: Cheerios (Captain), Lacrosse (Captain)

Greek Life Affiliation: Mu Sigma, Vice President

CHARACTER PROFILE:

Tw: verbal abuse, homophobia, homophobic slurs, internalized homophobia

As the third born child to Enrique Lopez and Maribel Ruiz Lopez, the first-born daughter, expectations had been placed upon her. As a woman, especially a woman of color, the world wasn’t going to be kind to her and she would have to work tirelessly for what she wanted. At least, that’s what she was told by her mother’s mother, Alma. While her parents, her father a world-renowned Cardiothoracic surgeon and her mother a District Attorney, were busy working, she was often in the care of her grandmother. The woman lived in the poorer part of town, refusing to take any of the money that her son wanted to give her so she could live in a better neighborhood, and she was brutally honest, to the point where she could be insulting, even to her own family. But despite the insults that her abuela threw at her, Santana admired the woman and tried to do anything in her power to get approval from her grandmother. Maybe that was why Santana had adopted the woman’s line of thinking, deciding to be brutally honest with people no matter who she hurt and to stand for what she believed in, hoping that her grandmother would be pleased. Of course, as to be expected, not many people enjoyed the honesty, especially when it came to the girl telling her relatives that their baby was ugly or telling her classmates that they were stupid, but Santana didn’t care. It was what she believed in, and it was who she was.

Only, it wasn’t. Underneath the façade of the brutally honest girl that grew up to become the HBIC of her high school, was actually a kind and caring girl, one that just wanted to fit in. While she may have put on a facade that she didn’t care about what people thought about her, the truth was the exact opposite, and she cared too much. But she knew that if she let people know that she cared, they wouldn’t respect her as much as they did, so she continued on with her act, and did everything in her power to make sure people saw her as the girl that didn’t care. There was one person, however, that saw through her facade, a girl that joined the cheerleading team during their junior year. She was kind, quirky, and rebellious and someone Santana never really thought she’d befriend until the girl suggested that they go to a frat party at the University of Miami, one that promised of good times. But the next morning, instead of Santana waking up in bed with a college boy, she woke up in the same bed as her teammate. Not wanting anyone to find out about what happened, especially her grandmother, Santana swept the hookup under the rug and ended up in bed with the Captain of the basketball team just two days after, wanting to move past what happened and keep her reputation intact.

But that didn’t mean that Santana hadn’t remembered what happened; even after entering a relationship with the basketball player, there was a nagging thought in the back of Santana’s head, one that told her that she liked the sex with the cheerleader far better than the sex with her boyfriend. Every time she tried to quell the thought, by sleeping with her boyfriend or doing other sexual favors for him or by trying to focus on her cheering and school work, it would always pop up, whether after a night with her boyfriend wherein she didn’t come or in her dreams. She hated it and she wanted to get away from Miami and try to put as much distance between her and the cheerleader she had sex with as possible. Thankfully, a couple of months before graduation, Santana learned that she received a full scholarship to the Joie University for cheerleading, so she took the opportunity to get away from Florida, and from her thoughts, and accepted the invitation.

Of course, just because she was no longer in Florida, it didn’t mean that the feelings weren’t still there. Whenever she passed by a pretty girl with a brilliant smile or long legs, she found herself staring just a bit too long before she caught herself, and she knew that she couldn’t stand that. Pouring her frustrations into her school work, and her spot on the cheerleading team as well her spot on the lacrosse team, Santana made sure that people saw her as a force to be reckoned with. She was a girl with beauty, brains and brawn - and she wound up making herself the captain of both the cheerleading and lacrosse teams as a sophomore. And rushing to her mother’s alma mater, Mu Sigma, only added her powerful presence.

The more involved she got, the more that people looked to her - and in order to keep them from questioning why she hadn’t settled down with anyone yet, she began to hop from man to man, changing partners on a weekly basis, and she began to date around. People called her slut, they called her a whore, but at the end of the day, those were far better than being called a “lesbo” or a “dyke”. After all, her parents didn’t care what she did as long as her schoolwork wasn’t affected, but being a lesbian? That was not something that no amount of good grades and athletic prowess could pass on - especially since her mother and her abuela disowned a cousin for marrying a woman despite her being a renowned orthopedic surgeon.

Everything that Santana does is to preserve her family’s pride in her. From being the indisputable top bitch of the school - one who isn’t afraid to state her opinion, even if it’s an unpopular one - to being one of the top-ranking pre-med students that’s already beginning to fill out applications to medical schools, Santana is proving that she is everything that her parents can hope she could be. Once she had secured her position as her father’s successor as a great Cardiothoracic surgeon, she could then focus on her personal life.

But damn, was that hard to do when she had to work so closely with someone that was so openly out and proud.

STUDENT CENSUS SURVEY: (Please answer the following questions IN CHARACTER. Responses can be as long or short as you see fit!)

What made you want to attend Joie University? Easy. The school is one of the best school’s in the country, and this bitch deserves the best. It’s why I’ll be going to Stanford to get my medical degree, because there’s no way in hell that I’m going to go to some mediocre, half-ass school.

What are at least 3 positive or neutral and at least 3 negative traits that you believe you possess? Negative traits? Bitch please, I’m perfect. I’m intelligent, I’m honest, and I’m ambitious. That’s right, putas… I’ve got beauty, brains and brawn. (She’s insecure, stubborn, and guarded).

Which of your traits do you value most? My intelligence. There’s nothing more satisfying than seeing some misogynistic prick realize that I’m more than just a pretty face and a hot bod.

How can that trait benefit the University (or its student body) as a whole? That’s easy. With my intelligence, I’ll be able to achieve my goals of becoming a world-renowned Cardiothoracic surgeon and when people ask me where I got my start, I’ll tell them that it was Joie that made me the surgeon I am today - and then people will flock to the school and the admissions board will have to turn people away left and right.

What do you hope to gain from your experience at JU? I hope to kick ass in my undergrad years before I go on to med school… and I also hope to prove to all the conservative assholes that attend this school that a girl can do everything a guy can and then some.

What is a quote or song lyric that describes you? “Feminism isn’t about making women stronger. Women are already strong. It’s about changing the way the world perceives that strength.” - G.D. Anderson

[ladyamelia-whitfield-blog]

HELLO LOVELIES!! ;D As said in my post in the ooc blog, here’s a bio on Amelia and as I’ve also mentioned,  I’m a huge plot-whore, so do come on over and IM me if y’all wanna plot a  connection/anything with Amelia here or LIKE this post and I’ll come to ya instead!!~<3

So damn excited to be heree and I can’t wait to  rp and get to know everyone of u soon!!:D~<3 <3

So she’s the only child ( so far for now,as idk yet whether I want her to have any older siblings or not) to the a high-ranking Duke and Duchess in Bearoria, the kingdom where she had been  born in , grew up in and where she stayed & called home for many years till she was married off to a Duke in Dracborough (when she was 20)

I kinda have it that her family was always invited to the royal court whenever there was an event or function happening there or  even invited to stay there a few times over the years due to her family’s position and possibly her parents being good family friends with the King and Queen.

As it was during her time spent in the royal court was when she bumped into and became friends with Emrys’s, the adopted son of the royal physician there, when she was 5 and he, 7.  Their friendship grew greatly over the years  and evolved into a very close one whereby they eventually even became besties.

Her personality is that of a kind, warm, calm, mature and wise lady, who's also well-mannered and socially graceful as well as keeping in with social etiquette expected of her when she's out in public but she's humble so she doesn't mind making friends with anyone of any societal ranking.  And at times she may be quite compliant to her family's wishes except of course when it comes to who she makes friends with or who she chooses to help cos she simply cannot agree on her familiy's elitiist or classist views. She also knows how to speak out for others if she sees something unjust being done but she'll do it in a direct , mature way.

Eventho, she accepts the way that most of them are living in male-dominated society plus she does abide to society's protocols while conducting herself in public, she internally however, doesn’t feel that the whole situation is really fair to women but then what can she do about it ? Except to sometimes try to defend a poor helpless woman if she comes across any men abusing them.  She doesn't really see women being any lesser than men in terms of intelligence and all that stuff, but she just remains calm about it and currently now as a lady she  just keeps those thoughts to herself and isn't an activist or anything tho she might voice her thoughts to Emrys if he eventually tries to get all unbearable in his views of male superiority (that's when she's gonna knock some sense into him again as she has tried to do during their childhood)

Over their many years of friendship, both Emrys and her  then very slowly , gradually and subconsciously fell for each other.  And they both kinda realized it one day when they were each individually self-reflecting on their own but then decided to suppress those feelings as they were afraid that the other might not reciprocate those feelings. Thus,  they didn’t  confess to each other their romantic feels as they both didn’t want to potentially lose or risk the great friendship they had going on that time.

But then one day, early in her 20th year, she found out that her parents were going to get her married off to son of a duke (an old family friend) in another kingdom due to a couple of social/financial advantages and she became utterly dismayed and against that idea.  Cos eventho she had thought of the possiblity that her parents might set her up for an arranged marriaged in the future, she kinda hoped that it would to be someone she could have a bit of romantic feelings for or at least she could potentially she herself falling for him or even the possibilty that her parents might let her have a small say in the choosing of suitors? BUT unfortunately, her now-arranged betrothed was someone she just couldn’t muster any romantic feelings for no matter how hard she had tried when they had met a few times before in the past and she had only come to tolerate him as a friendly acquaintance and nothing more.

So she tried to negotiate with her parents to not marry this guy or at least find someone else of equal stature which they felt was required but unfortunately for poor her, her parents were strongly adamant and wanted to see this particular marriage through, for their own selfish reasons. Thus, broken-hearted and helpless Amelia then felt very down as she could see herself ending up with a lifelong loveless marriage with her future husband as they had  very little in common & didn’t really connect that much and plus she’s secretly quite the romantic at heart.  Feeling a lil  depressed , she then calls upon Emrys and asks him to come out for a night out with her in the in the city. When they were finally out in the town, she then tells him that she wants to do something impulsive and wild for once in her life and he either supports her and stay by her side tonight or just go away, as this was her last night of freedom before having to be shackled into a loveless marriage as she was shipping out tomorrow to meet her fiance & start the engagement & wedding arrangements. (this whole wedding/ quick arranged marriage ordeal is making her act a lil uncharacteristically that night XD) She then  proceeds to drown her sorrows by drinking in a small inn, something she has never done before in her life(!) and  pours out the story of her sudden engagement & woes about her future marriage to Emrys.  While listening, he then tries to reason with her & stop her from drinking to no avail.

As a last bid-attempt, he then snatches a few pints from her and chugs them down himself.   She then gets mad at him and then they struggle a lil bit while shouting at each other which included   vague and heavily hinted sentences abt their romantic feels for one another  They then stop struggling upon recognizing some sort of romantic/heat/sexual chemistry was happening between them atm, and they oops, slept  together and have one night of unbridled pent-up passion XD And early next morning, despite feeling slightly awkward abt what had transpired between them the night before, she & he, both didn’t speak much except to quickly and say their goodbyes and she left after a tight hug.

She then only finds out some weeks later, on the eve of her wedding day, that she was  pregnant with Emrys’s child! She then  decides that there’s no way she can get married now because she doesn’t want to lie to her future husband that she’s pregnant with another man’s baby as well as she doesn’t want to bring terrible shame on her family name cos she def wants to raise the child lovingly & properly, so she impulsively decides to run away? Thus she leaves a letter explaining everything except for the identity of her baby daddy and scrams, but during her getaway , she accidentally gets into a very minor accident and hit her head very hard. So went she wakes up, she’s an amnesiac of some kind and her head is utterly empty of who she is and stuff? Her family then successfully finds her and selfishly decides with her groom, that they keep the secret of her being pregnant with another man’s baby from her and do their best to restore all her other memories about her life including planting a couple of fake ones like she’s currently in love with her groom and she’s having his baby as they had slept together before the wedding :P So the poor girl believes them cos really, what else is she to think?XD  And thus gets married and lives with her husband in Dracborough.  She then has the baby which is a girl and falls in love with her so much so her daughter is the biggest sunshine in her life rn? And then gradually over the next 5 years, she eventually  gets most of her memories back except for that one night that happened between her and emrys XD . And currently her relationship with her husband is distant and def not so good cos she just can’t seem to fall in love with him eventho she tries her best and she also doesn’t like him very much as a person as he has some ugly character traits she dislikes. And he in turn, is currently pissed at her cos she doesn’t love him after all this time, he’s a lil possesive of her and despite wanting her to love him back, he’s also half-hating her for having another man’s kid and them unable to produce any kids together despite them trying sometimes. (she’s secretly dreads their time in bed together as she doesn’t love him nor feel anything for him). Plus, she’s very unhappy about the fact that he seems to dislike, or if she didn’t  know any better, she would say he hates“their daughter” and is pretty cold and distant with the poor lil gurl and so Amelia just concludes that it’s  probably some sexist thing he has going on that he prefers to have male heirs and probs views girls as lesser beings or something. So she’s also kinda secretly angry at him too for treating “their” daughter so.

So right now, she does remember Emrys very well as all their great friendship history, and the fact that she had (or maybe still might have? ;) ) suppressed romantic feelings for him  but she just doesn’t  remember that eventful night at all…yet.

I’LL TRY TO COME UP WITH A PLOTS PAGE SOON, BUT I WOULD SO LOVE TO HAVE AS MANY CONNECTIONS BETWEEN AMELIA AND ALL OF YOUR LOVELY MUSES, GUYS, SO DO HMU / LIKE THIS POST!! <3~<3