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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Me and You Together, 1/? (Taywhora) - Ortega

fic summary: The cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates, because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward. A’whora and Tayce both know this, but being in first year of uni and making good decisions have never really gone hand in hand.

a/n: i honestly have begun this wip with glitter and jesus. i have no idea how many chapters it’s going to have or what exactly the plot is going to be…all i know is that it’s fwb (flatmates with benefits) to lovers taywhora with a background love triangle involving Ellie bc she’s my fav. pls enjoy and pls leave me love because i am a keyworker so really one comment = one 6pm clap xo

P.S. the Friday mentioned in this fic is the one A’whora’s obsessed with and was dancing to on her insta…not the popular Rebecca Black song. also 100 points to anyone who knows the song Lawrence and Ellie get excited about in the club.

content note: they’re freshers at uni in the UK and this country has a binge drinking problem xo. please don’t expect any of these girls to be acting responsibly. if you think you might be influenced by a fic talking about alcohol, smoking, sex and drugs, this might not be for you luv xo

December- Fell in love with her in stages

A year ago if you had asked A’whora what she was doing on a Tuesday night, the answer would’ve been mundane.

Homework, maybe, if she could be bothered. She could always copy it from Mocha in registration, after all. Making tiny outfits for Barbie dolls out of fabric scraps, very probably; she hadn’t stopped doing that just because she was older, the only difference from when she was nine was that she didn’t make her Barbies talk anymore. Invariably she’d stay up til’ well past her bedtime, earphones plugged in to her laptop and trying not to sing along to the playlist of dance music she’d spent a year cultivating. She’d poked fun at her Mum for still giving her a bedtime at the big age of eighteen, but she’d maintained that while her girl was living under her roof it would be bed by eleven on a weeknight and out no later than three on a weekend.

These rules, however, were quickly disposed of as soon as she’d got the keys to her uni flat. As soon as she’d found out her other flatmates were just as riotous and chaotic as she was and loved a night out just as much, her weeks had been filled with nights she’d never forget in bars she couldn’t remember, heads against speakers and sore feet from heels and ridiculous pre-drinks with even more ridiculous cocktails.

One such cocktail is the one her flatmate’s making for her now. Ellie doesn’t have any of the professional equipment a usual bartender would, but that doesn’t seem to stop her- the messy countertops are a treasure trove of obscure liqueurs and alcopops, and Ellie twirls a yellow-blonde curl around her finger before giving a gasp of satisfaction as her hand settles on a sticky green bottle.

“One shot of apple soors, half a can of blue Monster, top up the rest with vodka,” she explains as she works with the various bottles and cans quickly, pouring into the pint glass they’d stolen from one of the pubs on a bar crawl during Freshers Week. She hands it to A’whora with a cheeky, mischievous grin on her painted face.

A’whora sniffs her glass and feels her nose wrinkle up involuntarily at the concoction her flatmate’s poured for her. “Els, if I drink that I’ll die.”

Ellie, to her credit, simply gives a snort of disapproval in response. Her pink acrylics click against the quarter bottle of vodka as she tightens the lid and replaces it in their freezer, all shiny and slick with frost. “Well if you are gonna take three hours to get ready then you’re gonna have to deal with the consequences of playing catch-up, babe.”

“Bitch,” A’whora jokes, rolling her eyes before sipping from her glass. The mixture makes her screw her face up so she takes another sip, then another until the weird sour-sweet-burn in her throat becomes more like a cocktail than cough syrup.

“Good, right?” Ellie prompts her, leaning against their kitchen counter proudly.

“No,” A’whora deadpans, causing her friend to burst out laughing. Then, realising something, she cocks her head. “Wait a second. What the fuck did you call the green drink?”

Ellie frowns. “Soors.”

“…Sourz?” A’whora says back to her, already giggling at the difference in dialects.

“Don’t play the pronunciation game with me, bitch.”

“Oh, I absolutely will when you’re just saying it wrong.”

“Lawrence!” Ellie shouts through to their other flatmate, sitting on the sofa and frowning at the bluetooth speaker as if it’s personally committed some crime against her. Ellie holds up the bottle as Lawrence snaps her head round, dark curls flying over her shoulder. “What’s this?”

“Liquidised heartburn,” she says instantly. A’whora snorts as Ellie rolls her eyes.

“Fuck’s sake. What’s it called?”

“Soors,” Lawrence shrugs back at her, and Ellie gestures triumphantly at A’whora who can only pout in reply.

“Listen, I can get Tia, Bims and Tayce through here and they’d all outnumber you, so. Shut it.”

“Yeah bet you’d love to get Tayce through here, A’whora,” Ellie smirks, raising both her eyebrows at her in an infuriatingly smug expression.

A’whora is clamped for a couple of reasons, the first being the God-awful nickname all her flatmates use against her. She’d managed to acquire it the first time they’d all played Never Have I Ever together and A’whora had drank for pretty much every situation or scenario presented to her. Before she’d known it, her very lovely, very Disney Princess-esque first name had been replaced by a pun that Bimini had come up with in the midst of their third rum and coke, and thus Aurora was dead and A’whora was born.

The second reason for her silence is a result of the mention of one of the girls she’s living with. A’whora had never really expected to develop a crush on any of her flatmates, which had been a ridiculous thing to assume- given the fact she’s attracted to girls and was going to be living with other girls, the odds would dictate that at least one of them would be her type. Luckily, though, she hasn’t developed any feelings for any of them. At least, that’s the lie she’s telling herself, as the cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward.

Tayce is different to Ellie, Lawrence, Tia and Bimini, though. None of the others get A’whora so flustered when they speak to her, none of the other others get her heart racing so fast it threatens to fly out her ribcage. She doesn’t feel the same sense of dizzy joy when she’s alone with any of the others: only when Tayce makes dinner with her, or when she comes to her room at ten at night for chats, or when they play Tayce’s stupid video games together and she beats her way-too-many-consecutive-times in a row to be considered fair. A’whora has tried to explain it away as just wanting to be liked, just wanting to be good friends, just just just until she can’t justify her own excuses any more and has instead resigned herself to repressing the feelings she has for her friend. The tension between them is building, though, and it’s only a matter of time until something happens.

“BITCH!”

A’whora jumps a little, flinching as she realises she’s gone too long without a comeback. Ellie’s expression is expectant and impatient as she clicks her fingers once, twice, three times in her face.

“Shut up, Ellie-phant,” A’whora manages to mumble almost incoherently as she turns on her heel, walking through to the living room area to sit with Lawrence and join her on her quest to making their speakers work.

Their flat is an odd one. The front door leads to a prison cell-style line of equally pokey rooms- Lawrence’s, Tayce’s, A’whora’s, Bimini’s, Ellie’s and Tia’s respectively- and two bathrooms. Then another door opens out onto two hobs, endless cupboards and grimy, cluttered countertops, and a scrub of shitty green carpet and three worn out red-purple sofas that look as tired as Bimini does when they come home from a random afterparty just as A’whora leaves for lectures. It doesn’t in any way look like a normal flat, but A’whora supposes they’re about as far away from normal as a sentient slice of cheese.

“Oh babe, you must be crushing crushing. I don’t think I’ve heard you come out with a comeback as shit as that in the whole four months we’ve lived together,” Ellie continues the conversation, buzzing behind her like an annoying fly.

“It wasn’t shit, it was good!”

“Lawrie, what’s a good comeback to me calling A’whora a whore?” Ellie appeals to her friend again.

“Rich of you to be calling anyone a whore. You come from a long line of whores. You’re a whore, your maw’s a whore, your maw’s maw was a whore. There’s cave paintings of your ancestors wi’ twelve dicks in their mouths. There’s tapestries of them gettin’ shagged left, right an’ centre. There’s clay sculptures of them being whores. Pipe the fuck doon,” Lawrence reels off, Ellie growing more and more breathless with hysterical laughter beside her and A’whora falling into giggles too.

“Well this was a weird time for me to enter the conversation.”

A’whora feels her heart lift and her face light up when she turns around and sees Tayce walking through to join them, the posture of a model with her fingers curled elegantly around the stem of a wine glass. She flicks her long, dark hair over her shoulder as she sits down on the small sofa beside A’whora, and she wonders how Tayce can sit in a way that makes the stained, battered, scratchy upholstery seem like the set of a high fashion photoshoot.

“Just talking about you,” A’whora sticks her tongue out at her, laughing at the way Tayce reels in fake horror and Lawrence explodes with laughter across from them.

“The valour, the bravery and the backbone,” Tayce grumbles, rolling her eyes. Her gaze rests upon something behind A’whora- the back of the sofa. Maybe there’s a new rip in it, God knows how that can have happened. She holds back a gasp, though, when Tayce reaches out and runs a gentle finger down her spine against her bare skin; an advantage of the sparkly backless cowl neck top she’s wearing that she hadn’t known existed until now. “Speaking of backbones, you’re such a skinny minnie.”

“Did you go to the school of backhanded compliments?” A’whora teases, deflecting from the way her heart’s still thrumming in her chest at the contact.

“Shush, you. You know you look bloody gorgeous,” Tayce says back to her, and even though there’s a laugh to her voice A’whora knows she means it. Her heart’s still going like a train but she can chalk that up to the half can of Monster Ellie’s dumped into her drink, so when she mutters out a thanks hun, same to you she hopes it doesn’t sound as insincere as it feels.

The thing is, she does look gorgeous. She’s dressed in a black lace bodysuit with straps that criss-cross up the back and a tight leather skirt that makes her legs look even longer than they already are. She’s opted for heels like A’whora has (unlike Ellie and Lawrence who have designated night-out trainers stained with spillages of drinks gone by) but hers have straps that are laced all the way round her calves and tied with a knot at the top. Everything about her outfit makes everything about her look outrageously good, and A’whora thinks it should be illegal for anyone to be this ethereal.

Tayce looks as if she’s about to fire something back at her judging by the little smile on her face but she’s interrupted by an outrageously loud boom from the speakers, as something that could be Lady Gaga but is too deafening to be deciphered screams through it. As the girls all flinch there’s a frantic diminuendo that comes from Lawrence mashing the volume button until the pitch is finally bearable and they can all take their hands off their ears.

“Lawrence, did you get the speakers working?” Ellie quips sarcastically, to which Tayce and A’whora burst out laughing and Lawrence almost elbows Ellie off the sofa opposite.

In the melee A’whora almost doesn’t notice Bimini and Tia come in, and they look ready to start the night if a little panicked.

“What the hell was that?” Tia asks quickly, opening the fridge and grabbing her bottle of premixed Malibu and pineapple before perching herself on the couch beside Ellie. “I thought part of the building had exploded.”

“Nah that was just my vagina, babes,” Lawrence says offhandedly, the others either screeching with laughter or groaning in anguish. Bimini crosses the room with their selection of drinks cradled in their arms and budges Tayce and A’whora up with an oi, oi!, A'whora’s pulse thudding at her wrist as a result of her close proximity to her crush.

No- her friend. Her friend who’s never going to be anything more than that.

With the six flatmates assembled, drinks poured, and tunes on, their pre drinks can begin. Pres at their flat often look like drinking games, yelling along to early 2010s pop, tipsily booking taxis and then touching up their makeup in the waiting time before they arrive. Tonight is no different; they bicker about where they want to go and eventually decide on the union because although it’s “too het” according to Ellie, it’s admittedly cheap and a good night out. A’whora chips into the conversation every five minutes with shady, catty jokes that Tayce howls at and leans into her side and clutches her arm or her hand or her thigh.

The contact is nice. They’ve reached that stage of their friendship where they’re touchy and close a lot of the time- A’whora’s constantly playing with Tayce’s hair and Tayce thinks nothing of just walking into A’whora’s room and getting under the duvet with her. They throw their arms around each other and bump shoulders as they walk and touch legs on the sofa, much like they’re doing now. A’whora has never been a cuddly type of friend- to be honest, she still isn’t- but there’s something about doing all this with Tayce that she doesn’t mind. It’s a comfortable kind of intimacy, a knitted blanket of sorts, but it’s a fragile space for Tayce to occupy too and A’whora knows it’s risky to let her rip a wall down she’s never been aware of til now.

The night rolls along and with every refill of A’whora’s glass the music gets turned up a little more, a little more, a little more until they’re all having to yell over each other as they play wiggly wiggly woo, who’s most likely to. It’s all fun and games until it gets to who’s most likely to sleep with a flatmate, and there’s a confusing mess of finger-pointing where Lawrence points to Ellie, Tayce points to Lawrence, and Bimini, Ellie and Tia point to A’whora.

“Fuck off, why’s it me?” she screeches in outrage, trying to cover up the fact her cheeks are burning and that Tayce seems suddenly all too close to her.

“Because! It’s you! It’s A’whora!” Bimini laughs, their accent making them seem all the more mischievous and shit-stirring.

“Well! If I’m sleeping with a flatmate that must mean one of you’s gonna be involved, doesn’t it?!”

“Right, sorry, yeah,” Bimini nods understandingly, before immediately switching to point to Tayce. There’s an arena-crowd roar that erupts from the others, one that makes A’whora laugh and blush scarlet at the same time. She sneaks a look at Tayce, who’s regarding her with much the same expression.

“I’m down if you are, hun,” A’whora jokes-but-not-really, shaking Tayce’s arm as if it’ll take away from the weak joke she’s trying to make. Tayce only shoots her a wink with her tongue trapped between her teeth.

“In your dreams, love.”

A’whora’s glad of the others laughing so she can pretend to join in, occupy herself with something other than the overwhelming urge to reply to Tayce with exactly.

The rest of pres fly by tipsily and incoherently. They get a noise complaint from the weird flat underneath them which seems solely comprised of six boys who never go outside, which prompts them to book taxis even though the union is only about a ten minute walk away. A’whora helps Tia re-glue on her eyelashes in a rush and Bimini spontaneously fills a hipflask with Ellie’s apple sourz, “for the road”. When the taxis roll up outside Lawrence hurries them all out the door with the urgency of a mother of five, and before long they’re standing in a queue around the block, Bimini and A’whora sharing Tia’s huge puffer jacket because neither of them thought to pick up coats in their haste to leave.

Tayce pulls a packet of cigarettes out of her pocket, flips the little cardboard lid of them open and offers them round to the others. A’whora takes one because Tayce is offering, and really Tayce could offer them grenades with the pins pulled out and A’whora would accept if only to get her smile flashed at her again or the chance that their hands might touch during the transfer. A’whora thinks Tayce is every public health campaign’s worst nightmare as she watches her hold the cigarette between her index and middle fingers, wrap her lips around the end and inhale. Her cheekbones are razor-sharp as she drags then lets the breath go, red lipstick on the paper and the smoke curling up into the sparkly, dark night sky.

She is beautiful.

It’s because she’s beautiful that A’whora shouldn’t be surprised by the events that begin to unfold as they enter the club. Ellie immediately makes her way over to a booth, picks up the little sign that says it’s reserved and chucks it onto the dancefloor to get trampled underfoot and covered in sticky cocktail spillages. Tayce’s round is first because she lost Ring of Fire back at the flat so she goes over to the bar for shots, promising she’ll be only a couple of minutes and the others believing her; the way she looks ensures she never has a long wait time at the bar.

So they wait. And they wait. At first they don’t even notice how long they’ve waited- the tunes are good and loud and so they all yell along happily. Until Lawrence turns to the others with narrowed eyes.

“Here. Where the fuck is Tayce? She’s been ages.”

They all scan the bar, and Ellie suddenly points dramatically over to the other end of it. “Oh!”

Because Tayce is standing at the bar with no drinks and no interest in any of the bartenders taking drinks orders. She’s talking to a tall blonde with a dazzling smile and a low-cut crop top, and something inside A’whora burns and sinks at the same time. Tayce is allowed to be talking to a pretty girl. She’s not not allowed to. But it doesn’t make her any less jealous of the attention she’s giving her.

It’s a horror movie she can’t look away from. She’s aware that Ellie has gone to get the drinks instead, but that’s all she can absorb from her surroundings. She tunes out of the conversation at the table as she continues to watch the two of them interact. The girl’s got muscles, and her hair falls in neat waves on her shoulders, and she’s smiley and charming and doesn’t talk much, preferring instead to listen to Tayce. A’whora is different. A’whora is constantly on transmit; loud and opinionated and gobby and, okay, sometimes a little bit judgemental. She can’t do charming and demure. She can’t be what Tayce is very clearly interested in.

A thud next to her causes A’whora to whip her head round, tearing herself away from the scene playing out in front of her and ripping the plaster off.

“Fuck’s sake. Jaegerbombs with Red Bull? Puh-rison!” Ellie half-whines, half-shouts.

“Red Bull is the standard, not everyone can have the same taste in energy drinks as a sixteen year old virgin gamer,” A’whora narrows her eyes, gratefully accepting the drink from her nonetheless and shotting it back as if it’ll help blind her, or perhaps forget what she’s seeing.

“God. Who pissed in your coco pops?” Ellie fires back, rolling her eyes dramatically.

“Bold of you to assume anything specific has happened to make her this bitter, mean and salty,” Tia jokes from A’whora’s side, and as the others scream and laugh A’whora in turn fixes her with a glare, wishing momentarily she had laser beams for pupils.

“Ooh, that’s made me want a tequila,” Lawrence cries enthusiastically, too loud even from the other side of the booth.

“Eh, excuse me! I just got you a Jaegerbomb, finish that first,” Ellie chastises her like a world-weary parent, pushing the glass towards her friend and sliding her hand over the table, sticky with the ghosts of questionable drinks’ past. A’whora has to snort at her tone.

“Yeah Lawrence, finish your Jaegerbomb or you won’t get any dessert. Listen to your responsible Mum whose eyelash is coming off.”

A big roar of laughter flies up from the others, and it’s Ellie’s turn to glare at A’whora this time. She looks as if she’s about to say something back when Bimini sniffs their glass and frowns.

“Is Jaegerbombs vegan?”

Everyone apparently wishes to ignore the lack of grammatical sense to their sentence, and it’s Lawrence who responds first. “They’re vegan in the same sense that bleach is vegan?”

Bewilderingly satisfied, Bimini raises their glass to the middle of the table and the girls join them, cheering as they all clink them together and chuck the drinks back. The fact A’whora can’t join in leaves her eyes to fall on Tayce and that girl again. Tayce is smiling and it’s the brightest thing in the club, laughing as the girl flips her hair and touches her hand and tells some joke that’s obviously not as funny as anything A’whora could say. She wonders if she’s ever made Tayce smile like that. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but she can’t remember.

“You know they used to use Jaeger as cough medicine? And for ages it was drunk by, like…old Tories who went on deer hunts,” Tia reels off excitably, and A’whora can’t help but roll her eyes affectionately at her friend’s bizarre general knowledge. “There’s this rumour that it’s got deer’s blood in it.”

Bimini splutters, coughs, and chokes all at once. As Lawrence slaps their back entirely too roughly in a way that’s about as helpful as a water gun at a house fire, A’whora can’t help but turn to face Tia incredulously.

“What the fuck did you say that for?!”

Tia shrugs, too tipsy to register A’whora’s disbelief. “Fun fact.”

“You didn’t think to pipe up with that when Bims was asking if it was vegan?”

“It’s just a rumour!” Tia says defensively, then turns to Bimini to check they’re okay. A’whora huffs in exasperation, folding her arms and throwing her back against the supposedly cushioned walls of the booth. As she stares straight ahead and ignores the fuss her friends are making, her eyes fall on Tayce again and her heart hurts more than it should to see her with her phone out and the girl beside her doing the same. They’re so clearly swapping numbers. They’re allowed to swap numbers. It’s not like A’whora’s got dibs on Tayce, it’s not like she’s got any right to feel a burn in her stomach and a flame in her heart and a feeling of something slipping away.

“Right!” Lawrence all but yells, forcing A’whora to tear her eyes away. “I’ve finished my Jaegerbomb, Mum, can we get tequila now?”

Ellie sighs. “Fine! But you’re buying me this one, bitch.”

“I’ll come with,” A’whora says, thinking she’ll need at least ten more units of alcohol to stop feeling feelings.

“We’re going for a boogie, catch us up,” Bimini decides, as Rhythm is a Dancer blasts on the overhead speakers and Tia lets out a whooo! that’s way too white for a mixed-race girl.

So they move, A’whora bum-shuffling her way out of the booth and following Lawrence and Ellie, her feet sore in her heels. She purposefully blocks Tayce out of her peripheral vision as she leans against the bar, but she’s only separated from her by about six people also waiting and if she tilted her head forward she could definitely catch her eye if she wanted.

“Rhythm is a dancer, two for one at Asda,” Ellie sings along, bopping her head enthusiastically. A’whora laughs weakly, her proximity to Tayce and that bitch she’s talking to entirely too distracting.

“Shut your hole and tell me what you’re wanting,” Lawrence orders her. Ellie drums the palms of her hands against the bar as she semi-shouts sambucaaaaa, and A’whora asks for a vodka. She’s aware she’s mixing entirely too many spirits and her hangover tomorrow will be potentially life-threatening, but she doesn’t care.

“Tayce is still there. Should we shout her over and see what she wants?” Ellie suggests, craning her neck. A’whora firmly shakes her head.

“She’s wanting that baby Hulk she’s been talking to all night, apparently,” she all but spits, shocking herself at her venom. It’s clear she shocks the girls as well, and Lawrence turns around and simply raises her eyebrows at her.

“Men’s dress trousers in a hotel.”

A’whora can only blink. “What?”

Lawrence pauses for dramatic effect (or perhaps that’s just the Jaegerbomb making its alcohol content known). She points a finger at A’whora, then finishes whatever point she’s making. “Pressed.”

“Purrr!” Ellie laughs in agreement, grabbing A’whora’s shoulder and shaking it in an action that’s probably meant to be gentle but almost shakes her bone out of its socket. “Oh my God, that totally explains why you’ve been such a bitch all night.”

“This wee cow’s been a bitch her whole life,” Lawrence joins in. A’whora knows she’s got a proper face on by now, Dot Cotton licking piss off a nettle, but she can’t help it. She hates being wound up and she makes this perfectly clear to her friends via her furious silence.

“Nah, but tonight she’s a jealous bitch,” Ellie sticks her tongue out at her, and A’whora huffs.

“I’m not jealous!” she lies. “I’m just pissed off that she comes on a night out with us and she spends it talking to some random bitch she barely knows instead of her friends.”

“Wait. Oh my God, do you fancy Tayce?” Lawrence asks, a bull in a china shop on cocaine. Before A’whora can defend herself Ellie barks a laugh.

“Aw Lauzza, come on to fuck! Have you ever walked in when it’s been just the two of them? They’re so fucking flirty it’s disgusting.”

“DISGUSTEN!” Lawrence shouts, and it goes about ten percent of the way to drawing A’whora out of her mood.

“I don’t flirt with Tayce! I don’t fancy her either!” A’whora cries, exasperated. She realises too-late that her volume may have been too loud, but when she looks over at the topic of conversation again she’s both disappointed and relieved to see that she hasn’t registered a thing. “Anyway, you know you can’t shag your flatmate. It’s like the first rule of having flatmates. It would just make everything awkward.”

“That the only thing stopping you?” Lawrence looks at her pointedly.

“The bartender’s free,” A’whora glances just over Lawrence’s shoulder, and she turns around so fast it almost makes her feel dizzy. While Lawrence orders it leaves Ellie to turn to A’whora and pat her hand sympathetically.

“Why don’t you just go up to her?” she suggests. “I mean would it be so bad if you did just shag and get the pent-up tension released and then you can both just move on? I mean it’s not like you want to be her girlfriend or anything.”

A’whora presses her lips together and doesn’t reply. Her silence seems to communicate too much as Ellie’s mouth drops open a little and she fixes her with a pointed stare. “Oh, A’whora.”

“Look, I don’t know,” A’whora rushes to defend herself, her words spilling out over themselves in the way they sometimes do when she’s tipsy. “Like obviously she’s gorgeous but also, like…I do like her as a person as well, and I like being around her and just enjoying her company-”

Ellie splutters a giggle. “Enjoying her company, are you eighty years old in a care home?”

“I’m gonna slap you in a minute, shut up!” A’whora laughs incredulously. “But, like, I just…I don’t know if she likes me back like that, you know?

Ellie frowns. “I think, then, my advice would be…don’t shag her if you don’t think you can keep it to just that. ‘Cause obviously you don’t want to end up getting hurt.”

“Right, yeah,” A’whora replies, nodding.

If she’s honest, she’s disappointed. Obviously she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to sleep with Tayce- because fucking look at her- but just like Ellie said, she knows she would end up getting hurt if anything happened between them. Tayce would probably consider it a one-time thing and A’whora would be let down, or it would turn into some long, drawn-out friends with benefits scenario that would probably make everything worse.

The thing is she can only repress her feelings so much and tonight she’s feeling like one of Ellie’s cans of Monster that Tia shook up as a joke and ended up spurting out its contents so violently that there’s still a green-blue stain on their kitchen wall. A’whora’s way too close to telling the girls about every time she’s pictured her and Tayce falling asleep together and waking up together, every time she’s imagined them planning actual dates, every time she’s wanted to kiss her on the sofa- not necessarily even a kiss kiss but just a peck on the cheek, a soft one pressed to the crown of her head, a little one against their knuckles as they hold hands.

It all sounds ridiculous and silly and way too high school. Nothing seems to work the same at uni. Everyone just seems to shag, hook up, kiss strangers they’ll never see again in the shadows of grimy clubs. Everything seems to happen when everyone’s drunk. Everything’s done out of lust rather than love. Everything is so short-term because you can’t plan for the long term if you wake up and don’t remember the night before.

A’whora loves uni, but she doesn’t like that.

Besides, she’s already done all that in high school anyway. Sixth form had been like a crash course in freshers’ week; if she wasn’t drinking in parks or going to house parties she was sneaking into nightclubs using a fake ID that even Stevie Wonder could’ve seen right through. She’d half-heartedly slept with boys and figured out she liked girls when a sleepover after a party took a turn. She’d tried smoking and she came to the conclusion that she didn’t like it enough to buy her own cigarettes, she’d tried mandy once and that was once too much for her. All of that has prepared her well for uni- she’s street smart and has her head screwed on (for the most part- she’s still testing her limits as far as alcohol’s concerned). But feeling like she’s feeling for Tayce is uncharted territory, and out of everything she’s already done and experienced A’whora finds it hard to believe there’s not an age limit on this sort of thing because it all feels more risky and dangerous than smoking roll-ups in a children’s playpark at one in the morning ever did.

A wayheyyy! from Lawrence cuts through her thoughts and she accepts the shot she’s holding out to her, wordlessly clinking it together with Lawrence’s and Ellie’s and slamming it back as if it’s some form of medicine she desperately needs.

“It’s so weird that you don’t do the whole lime and salt thing,” Ellie wrinkles her nose at her friend, who in turn punches one of her own tits with what seems to be pride.

“‘Cause I’m made of strong stuff, babes. Right, what’s the conclusion on this one? Does she fancy Tayce or no?”

“Surely this is a bathroom stall conversation?” A’whora pouts, annoyed that her feelings for Tayce have been brought back up.

As Ellie relays to Lawrence what she’d said to A’whora, A’whora momentarily wonders if she’s in control of anything in her life any more.

Lawrence nods when Ellie’s done. “Smart advice. ‘Cause it would make things awkward for the flat. ‘Magine trying to make a Pot Noodle in the middle of a live-action episode of Eastenders.”

A’whora screws her face up in confusion. “All episodes of Eastenders are live action?”

“Y’know what the fuck I mean,” Lawrence rolls her eyes in exasperation. “Well we’ve given you our blessing and basically we represent the whole country, so. Go for it.”

“Thanks, Nicola Sturgeon, good to know I have your approval,” A’whora smirks at her, amused. When some Becky Hill song comes on over the speakers she takes it as her cue to smooth down her skirt, flip her hair over her shoulder and rest her little shot glass back on the bar. “Right, we going to have a dance or what?”

As she takes her friends’ hands they all but strut over to the dancefloor, and A’whora can see Bimini and Tia pulling shapes that they probably think make them look mysterious and sexy but actually just make them look as drunk as they no doubt are. Before A’whora can push through the crowd, Lawrence tugs her and Ellie back a bit.

“Here, I think I’ve remembered something Tayce told me once, if this is of any use to you?” she begins.

All of A’whora’s nerve endings light up like one of those colourful optical fiber lamps she had when she was small. Her eyes have clearly flown open and her mouth’s dropped slack without her even having to try, so desperate is she for what Lawrence is about to tell her. Ellie’s beside her equally expectant and anticipative, and Lawrence laughs at the pair of them before she continues.

“It was the pair of us and Tia…Christ, when was it…cannae mind. Think you’d gone home for the weekend and Ellie was doing something wi’ Bims…anyway, coupla’ bottles of wine in and we start playing wee stupid games. We’re doing snog, marry, avoid and Tia gives her…fuck, cannae even remember. Let’s say it was Ellie, Bimini and you. Now I can’t remember what she said for the other two but…” Lawrence pauses dramatically, and A’whora is a hair’s breadth away from practically begging her for the information she’s taking so long to impart. “…she said she would marry you because then she’d get to shag you more than just once.”

A’whora doesn’t think her eyes can go any wider but she somehow manages it. She doesn’t really know how to react but Ellie’s doing enough screaming to suffice for the two of them.

“When the fuck were you gonna tell us that?! Fuck, I can’t believe you never told me that! When did this happen?!” Ellie practically screeches in her face.

“Telt you I cannae mind! Maybe like…a month ago? I don’t know,” Lawrence supplies unhelpfully. Usually A’whora would try to rip the piss out of the way her accent’s gone ten times more Braveheart than usual after her series of drinks, but all she can think about is what she’s been told and, well…she can’t help the butterflies in her heart and the way a satisfied, triumphant grin spreads slowly onto her face.

Ellie’s equally as excited beside her. She whacks A’whora on the arm as she squeals with enthusiasm. “See! Now we know she likes you too!”

A’whora feels as if she’s made of glitter and confetti as she spins around in the direction of the bar. Her heart gives a dip on its rollercoaster of emotions as she sees that Tayce has somehow caught the attention of a different girl- long, dark hair and a blue and orange outfit and a mouth that’s moving at about a mile a minute.

There’s a second before A’whora makes to turn away in disappointment when Tayce’s pupils suddenly flick over to rest on her. Tayce’s self-assured expression and body language seem to falter when she catches A’whora’s eye, and she shoots her a little smile that- if A’whora didn’t know the girl better- she’d say was shy.

“Now the challenge is actually getting a chance to talk to her,” A’whora pouts. Chatting up Tayce and maybe getting to fall into bed with her really isn’t a time-sensitive issue; it doesn’t need to happen tonight, but A’whora’s had a chaotic combination of alcohol that makes her think there’s really no time like the present and hey, maybe this is her one and only chance.

“Well, we can keep an eye on her and when she’s free, then that’s your chance,” Ellie smiles, supportive and excited.

“What chat-up line are you gonnae use? I’ve got a cracker you can have if you want,” Lawrence insists, and A’whora and Ellie share a doubtful look.

“Go on.”

“What did one haggis say to the other haggis?” Lawrence begins. Without giving the other girls a chance to interject, she finishes. “…’Gonnae shaggis?’ ”

“And on that note,” Ellie shakes her head and rolls her eyes, taking both of them by the hand and pulling them into the crowd to join their other friends.

It’s amazing how easy it is to forget about the object of her affection chatting to random girls on the other side of the room when Bimini’s grabbing her and almost launching her across the dancefloor with their euphoric pogo-ing along to each and every song that gets played. The five of them drunkenly bum-ba-ba, bum-ba-ba along to Head & Heart and cheer for Tia when she does Nicki’s rap in Swalla without even stopping for breath. A’whora laughs in confusion with the other girls as Lawrence and Ellie get way too excited, squealing and clutching each others’ hands when some clubland tune that’s apparently much bigger in Scotland than it is in the other three corners of the UK gets put on, the lyrics of which seem to consist solely of the words up-up-up and awayyy. Bimini and Lawrence collect more drinks from the bar and A’whora very nearly knocks Ellie’s out of her hand when Friday comes on and she punches the air.

And then Tayce is on her own.

A’whora’s heart almost siezes up with how fast it jolts into full-blown palpitations because this is the moment she can finally go over and talk to her, the chance to turn their friendship into maybe something more even if that something more is only a random hookup after a night out, but it only takes the time for her to shake Ellie’s arm and point in Tayce’s direction for her to see that, yet again, she’s been approached by someone tall and confident and stunning and everything that A’whora wishes Tayce thought about her.

Her face falls and Ellie snaps her fingers in her line of vision, forcing her to look at her and the motherly expression of tough love she’s wearing.

“Hey. When has anyone ever stopped you getting your own way?” she yells at her over the music, and A’whora laughs half in amusement and half in agreement. As she falls silent, Ellie jerks her head towards the bar. “Go get her, bitch.”

It might be the alcohol, but it hits A’whora with a ironically sobering clarity that Ellie’s right.

So she takes a breath in and struts confidently over to the bar, practically able to feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins (although that could well be the caffeine from the second Jaegerbomb she’s downed this evening with Bimini’s encouragement). She smooths down her skirt so the split runs up the front of her thigh and not the side, adjusts the neck of her top so it’s framing her chest the way she wants it to. She could be nervous but the combined alcohol she’s drunk so far this evening pushes that feeling to the back of her head, replacing it with all-consuming confidence that she can feel from the inside out. She looks good, better than good, and she knows she can flirt even though she’s never really tried to flirt with Tayce. Well, never intentionally.

Okay, that’s maybe a lie.

The realisation that she’s actually going through with this is enough to make her want to freeze to the spot but by some miracle she’s still walking forward until she’s three, two, one steps away from her flatmate and the girl at the bar with too much plastic surgery and hair the shade of a vomit-coloured highlighter pen. A’whora wedges her shoulder in between the pair of them, hears the girl give a little tut/sigh hybrid from behind her but A’whora’s not really interested in bickering with her, not when Tayce’s eyes have fallen on her and she’s looking at her, really looking at her with a little playful smile on her painted lips.

“Hey baby boo,” Tayce says by way of a greeting, and A’whora feels her heart melt just a little. She’s being adorable, but she’s not going to let that damage her confident, composed exterior. Until Tayce follows up by running a hand down her arm and lacing their fingers together. “I haven’t seen you all night, I missed you.”

With that, A’whora feels the little cocky smirk she’s wearing break out into a shy grin, one that she hopes doesn’t look as ridiculously goofy as it feels. “Well. Maybe you would’ve seen more of me if you hadn’t been playing Take Me Out with half the bloody girls in here.”

“Who, me?” Tayce gasps, clutching the gold chain around her neck and pretending to be affronted. A’whora doesn’t mean to roll her eyes but she clearly does, and the small giggle she draws out of Tayce as a result makes it almost worth it. The squeeze Tayce gives her hand turns that almost into a definitely, as does what Tayce follows up with. “You’re cute when you’re jealous, you know.”

“You’re cute…all the time,” A’whora claps back, wishing she had some sort of drink in her hand to press against her face as she feels her blush start to bloom across her cheeks.

“I know, babe, that’s why I’ve been getting my drinks bought for me all night,” Tayce winks.

If Awhora uses that as a signal to pull her bank card from her bra, that’s nobody’s business but her own. The way Tayce’s gaze flicks to her chest lights a match in her heart. “Well…let me buy you one and then you won’t have to miss me so much.”

Tayce’s awed smile spreads slowly onto her face and they agree on tequila shots, the phase of the evening where they were nursing their drinks left firmly in the dust as the bartender hands them a salt shaker, two little shot glasses and two wedges of lime. The way Tayce’s tongue slides over the side of her hand before she sprinkles the salt and the way their eyes meet as she licks it up makes A’whora’s mouth dry, so the tequila’s welcome for a split second before she remembers why she hates it, the flavour and sheer strength of the alcohol akin to being hit by a truck.

As she grabs desperately for the lime like it’s an oxygen mask on a crash-landing plane, Tayce laughs and shakes her head pityingly. “You always end up ordering tequila and you always, always hate it.”

A’whora blinks as she composes herself, gives a little shiver of recovery. She cocks her head at Tayce inquisitively. “I didn’t know you remembered that.”

Tayce looks to the ground as she smiles, tucks a piece of her long hair behind her ear. It’s endearing and soft and it makes A’whora panic, so she presses her lips together and raises an eyebrow at Tayce questioningly. “So, how’d your little episode of Blind Date go anyway?“

"Gosh, you’re really pressed about this, aren’t you?” Tayce’s eyes are narrow as she smirks at her, and now it’s A'whora’s turn to look embarrassed. The soft laugh Tayce gives is reassuring so A'whora’s gaze drifts back up again and their eyes meet as she speaks again. “Well, there was, uh…blonde lady. Blonde lady with the muscles and the eyeliner. God, what was her name?”

“This is off to a flying start.”

“Kameron!” Tayce yells in her face as she remembers. It makes A’whora snort with laughter, something that’s probably wildly unattractive but she knows Tayce has seen her do it before. “And then there was, uh, Priyanka. I remember her name because she kept telling me every two minutes. That was a wild conversation.”

“Uh-huh. Who was the bitch I elbowed out the way?”

Tayce smirks at her, wobbles a little in her heels and steadies herself against the bar. “That was…Detox.”

“Radox?”

Tayce splutters. “Detox!”

“Should’ve called herself Botox, would’ve been nearer to the mark,” A’whora turns up her top lip. Tayce explodes in an outraged laugh beside her, clutches her wrist in a way that makes A’whora hope she won’t be able to feel her rapid pulse.

“Says Aurora Georgia Boyle, who asked for lip fillers for her eighteenth and was actually allowed to get them!”

“Don’t full name me, piece of shit!” A’whora gasps in mock-offence, shakes herself away from Tayce’s grip but finds her inexplicably nearer to her than she was before. She’s not necessarily complaining, though, because her whole left side is against Tayce’s right and there’s some form of other-worldly magnetism that seems to keep them pressed together. It makes her heart flutter so she tucks a section of hair behind her ear before she frowns. “I never told you that. How come you know that?”

“You did tell me! Back in freshers week! You just don’t remember,” Tayce giggles, poking her cheek with one acrylic nail. It should hurt more than it does. Maybe it does hurt and A’whora can’t feel it. She’s had a lot to drink.

It’s the alcohol she blames when she hooks an arm around Tayce’s waist, tilts her head and drops her volume to a murmur. “You seem to remember a lot of things about me.”

Tayce’s eyes widen just that little bit. “Well you’re a bit of an unforgettable person, really.”

Her words make A’whora’s heart light up so much that she can feel herself glowing from the inside out. She brings her other arm around Tayce in a tight hug, her hands joining at the small of her back, and Tayce mirrors her so they’re both anchoring each other. It’s hard for her to remember whether they’ve ever shared a hug like this before. It seems too intimate for friends, but A’whora doesn’t mind.

“Tayce.”

“Rory,” Tayce replies, mimicking her whine and the way she draws her name out. A’whora likes the nickname she gives her probably more than she should; she supposes it’s because only Tayce uses it and because it’s rooted in her actual given name.

A’whora pouts, squeezes Tayce’s waist. “I missed you tonight, you know.”

“Missed you too. Missed you so much,” Tayce murmurs back.

She’s already said it, A’whora knows she’s already said it, but with the way they’re both gazing at each other it seems to mean something more, something different. It’s ridiculous- they’re both drunk, and famously no good decisions have ever happened when two people have had this many assorted shots, but somehow it feels like all of this is just right.

A’whora drops her head to rest it on Tayce’s shoulder and she feels her arms tighten around her in response. Her lips graze her neck as she murmurs against it. “Not leaving me again.”

There’s a pause where she can’t really see Tayce’s expression or how she’s reacted. Her heart freezes, and the terror and reality of having crossed the line between friendship and whatever the hell this is suddenly consumes her whole body. She’s relieved, then, when Tayce eventually mutters against the crown of her head.

“All yours, baby.”

And she presses a kiss to her hair. Just like A’whora’s been dreaming about for so long.

She feels giddy and dizzy with absolute euphoria, so it’s that she blames when she puts her lips against Tayce’s neck again and plants one, two, three little kisses there in quick succession.

“Tayce,” she whispers again. She doesn’t really know what she wants to say or how to say it, but she knows she doesn’t want to go back to the dancefloor, and she doesn’t want to be with their other friends. She just wants her and Tayce together for however long she’ll let it be that way, and she doesn’t even care about the busy bar or the drunk students that bump into them every so often or the stares from the rowdy group of rugby lads that would usually make her feel intimidated, but not when she’s with Tayce.

When she’s with Tayce everything seems a little bit better somehow, just by her being there.

So maybe it’s that, or maybe it’s the tequila, or maybe it’s the feeling of having Tayce’s arms around her that makes A’whora tilt her head back up again and meet Tayce’s waiting lips with her own. There’s none of the usual hesitation or awkward pause that comes with kissing someone new because really the amount of times A’whora’s imagined this, dreamt about it, thought about it in daydreams that completely unhook her from reality, it’s as if it’s happened before.

Nothing has prepared her for the real thing though. How Tayce brings a hand up to rest at her jaw and how the other stays placed against the bare skin of her back, warm and supportive. How the both of them sway a little, unsteady in their heels as if they’ve been knocked for six. How Tayce’s body is close against hers and A’whora pushes a hand in her hair in an attempt to somehow bring her even closer. How kissing Tayce leaves her breathtaken and satisfied yet somehow amplifies her feeling of longing, because the more she gives to her the more A’whora wants and with every second that Tayce’s lips are on hers she can only feel the heat that’s pooling in her stomach growing more and more intense.

When Tayce pulls away and A’whora can only catch her breath, she fixes her with a lazy, half-lidded smile that makes her insides turn to melted honey.

“That was nice,” she blinks, and she’s a second away from kicking herself- because, really?- when Tayce giggles softly under her breath. She brushes a little piece of A’whora’s hair off her face, and the gentleness of the action throws her a little. A’whora brings her arms up to loop around her neck, and she leans in close again. “I wanna do it again.”

“I want to do…a lot of things. With you,” Tayce says, casual and chill as if her words haven’t just sent A’whora up in flames.

“Like…?”

“Like…maybe come back to mine and I’ll show you, baby.”

The whole moment’s perfect enough for A’whora to almost overlook the blunder Tayce has just made, but her nature dictates that she can’t let her get away with it. “We…we live together.”

Tayce lets out a snort, bumps her forehead against A’whora’s as she despairs of herself. “Right. Well…we gonna go home, then?”

A’whora doesn’t need to be asked twice. She laces her fingers in Tayce’s, resolves to text the others to tell them they’ve left, and stumbles towards the exit with her heart thumping wildly in her chest.

When she blinks, she’s tired, she’s in bed, it’s bright, and she’s confused as all hell.

The headache hits her like a sledgehammer to the face and she blinks slowly and heavily, adjusting herself to her surroundings. She’s in her own room, she can tell that much from the photos of her and her friends from back home on the cupboard and the fairy lights on her desk that aren’t switched on. Her mouth feels like a badger’s shat in it and her eyes are all achey, and as she throws an arm up to rub at them she’s surprised when she doesn’t see any leftover eye makeup on the back of her hand.

“The kraken awakes.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” A’whora flinches, her head whipping over to the foot of her bed to find Tayce sitting cross-legged leaning against the wall, her phone in her hand. She’s wearing her old leggings with the bleach stains and the hole at the calf, and a purple tie-dye sweatshirt that’s a size too big for her. Her hair’s loose and framing her face and the only makeup she has on is the little scattering of eyeliner that’s hanging tight to her lash line and has managed to escape the makeup wipe.

She looks disarmed and shy. There’s something comforting about it, because A’whora feels confused and completely on the back foot and she has no idea what’s going on. But there’s a warm smile on her face and it meets her eyes, so despite her disorientation A’whora feels safe.

“How long’ve you been there? Were you just watching me sleep like some…creepy Twilight vampire?” A’whora groans, sitting up and leaning forward and taking a deep breath as if it’ll make her headache go away.

Tayce laughs in a way that makes A’whora think the question’s flustered her, but she’s not sure. “The others went to get breakfast. I said I’d stay with you. Didn’t want you to be on your own feeling like shit and maybe having the fear.”

“I am having the fear. I don’t even know how we got home.”

The way Tayce’s face drops in what looks like abject panic makes her wonder what did happen last night. “Wait. What do you actually remember?”

A’whora’s heart is racing as she scans her mind for memories. Pres, club, drinks, booth. Tayce talking to some girl. Dancefloor. Tayce. Talking to Tayce. Kissing Tayce-

Kissing Tayce.

“Oh, no,” A’whora blurts out involuntarily. Her eyes are wide as she looks at Tayce. “We…did we? We did?”

Tayce’s face seems to relax as she bursts out laughing, and it all comes flooding back to A’whora and hits her like a train. Everything that had seemed like such a good idea last night now seems like the most awkward situation in the world now that Tayce is here, on her bed, and they’re both sober.

“Tayce, no,” A’whora whines, putting her head in her hands as her friend keeps laughing. “No! That’s so awkward. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, it was a good kiss,” Tayce smiles back, somehow both coy and self-assured at once. It’s her reaction that causes a new wave of cold horror to crash against A’whora, a wave on a rock.

“Oh, Jesus. Did anything else happen?”

Tayce grows animated. “God, yeah, we had the best sex ever. Sixty-nines, scissoring, we got the vibrators involved. It was bloody lush.”

A’whora’s too hungover to realise that Tayce is winding her up until she screeches with laughter right in her horrified face. “Oh my God, Rory, your face! No I’m joking, ‘course I’m joking.”

“Thank fuck,” A’whora sighs a world-weary sigh of relief, throwing herself back down against her pillows and immediately regretting it for the way her brain ricochets against her skull and makes her headache ten times worse. “So what did happen?”

“Well, you wanted to walk back because you wanted to look at the stars, so when we got to the square we lay down and looked at the stars for a bit. And then I wanted to go get chips and cheese but you were dragging me back home because you were so horny,” Tayce looks at her pointedly, and A’whora groans with embarrassment, grabbing her pillow and shoving it over her face. “But then after we got up the stairs and in through the door you said you felt sick, so I then had to hold your hair back while you threw up last night’s pasta bake and what looked to be about fifty different kinds of alcohol into the toilet bowl. Then I had to put you to bed and stay up half the night making sure you didn’t choke on your own tongue while you were asleep. Best one night stand I’ve ever had.”

When A’whora takes the pillow away, Tayce winks at her. She feels like putting the pillow back.

“I’m honestly so sorry,” she pouts. She is sorry. Part of her wishes she could at least properly remember what it had felt like to kiss Tayce. All the memories of the moment are much too paper-thin and flimsy, butterfly wings that’re all too rapidly flying away. Tayce isn’t giving her any cause to be embarrassed, but A’whora is anyway.

So she’s not sure what Tayce is going to say when she leans forward, takes her hand and gives it a squeeze. “Go brush your teeth.”

A’whora thinks she might be the first person in history to have cause of death: cringe written on her birth certificate. “You’re really adding insult to injury, aren’t you? Telling me all the embarrassing shit I did while I was off my face and then basically telling me my breath smells like dog shite.”

Tayce laughs as she shakes her head. “Just go do it, idiot.”

She’s never been one to say no to Tayce so A’whora drags herself out from under her duvet towards the little sink tucked away in the corner of her room, the cold chill of the freezing air hitting her bare arms and her feet and rendering her even more miserable. It’s only when she’s halfway through scrubbing at her teeth when it registers that she’s even got pyjamas on.

“Did you have to put my pyjamas on for me?” A’whora asks around her toothbrush, realising all too late that trying to talk through a mouthful of toothpaste is probably as unattractive as vomiting into the toilet bowl.

(The toilet bowl is definitely worse, but she’s just thinking this to help herself feel better.)

Tayce looks up from her phone and raises an eyebrow. “Nah, you managed to do it yourself. You did make me watch you put your stick-on bra on your forehead, though. Apparently it was the funniest thing in the world.”

A’whora just groans as she turns back to the sink, spitting out the toothpaste and following it with mouthwash just to completely clean her mouth of the various alcoholic sins of the night before. She crawls back into bed with a wearied sigh, and she’s surprised when Tayce falls on her side and scoots up beside her, laying on her side and facing her so their noses are almost touching. A’whora feels her heart lift and her pulse speed up, and it’s not helped by the way Tayce reaches out and tucks a little piece of hair behind her ear.

Tayce trails her fingers across to cup A’whora’s cheek, and she’s almost whispering when she speaks. “Thank God. Just wanted to do this again.”

When she leans in A’whora shuts her eyes, meets her halfway, and feels every cell in her body electrify when their lips touch. If kissing Tayce in a club when they were both drunk was good, then kissing her hungover in bed is somehow even better, and A’whora’s mystified at the way her headache seems to completely disappear with every second she spends with her lips on Tayce’s, kissing her gently and softly as if they’ve got all the time in the world. Tayce smells of everything comforting- Tresemme shampoo, snow fairy shower gel, the fabric softener she uses that’s way too expensive for a student budget. Fresh and clean and somehow new. It’s the simplest heaven A’whora has ever experienced.

Tayce pulls away and they both giggle, embarrassment and awkwardness gone now that the elephant in the room’s been addressed. A’whora only realises Tayce has taken her hand when she lets it go, pushes herself off the mattress and crosses the room towards the door.

“We should do that again some time,” she smiles wickedly by way of a goodbye, and A’whora can only nod bashfully in reply and agreement. Tayce has given her hope to hold on to, and she knows she’s going to cling to it ridiculously until whatever this is happens again.

She can’t wait.

Just as Tayce opens her door and A’whora resigns herself to her leaving, she lifts her head off the pillow when she hears her flatmate’s voice again as she disappears into the hallway.

“And go have a shower. You smell like tequila.”

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #ortega #me and you together #taywhora #uk2 #lesbian au #university au #british au #college au #freshers au #roommate au #friends with benefits to lovers #tayce #a'whora #lawrence chaney #ellie diamond #bimini bon boulash #tia kofi

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ladyanput · 5 years

Text

Seeing Green Ch.12

The days leading up to the gala, Marinette shut herself up in her room, making the excuses of her wanting to put the finishing touches on her dress. But that was a lie, everyone could see it by the haunted look in her eyes, but what could they do? Every time they tried, she’d merely give them a bright smile and usher them away with reassuring words, and she’d shut the door right in their face.

But Damian wasn’t about to give up just yet. He opened the door and stepped into the room, holding a tray carrying a delicate tea set. He stared at Marinette, who had knelt beside a mannequin sporting a stunning pink gown, not turning towards the sound of the door opening or the footsteps approaching her.

“I thought you’d like to have a break and have some tea with me.” Damian smiled down at her, the girl who had stolen his heart, not that he’d tell her just yet. No, not after what she’s been through, she didn’t need another man declaring his love when she clearly wasn’t ready for it. But when he saw her smile, he felt his heart flutter and he found himself grinning back. “Your favourite too.”

“Thank you, Damian, I think I could use the tea.” Marinette beamed and got to her feet, the two of them heading to the small table by the large windows, both quick to settle in their chairs with a cup of steaming tea.

“You’ve really been shut in your room, Angel, for two days straight. That can’t be healthy.” He commented as he watched her add a fair bit of sugar to her tea before taking a long, greedy gulp. He smiled at the sight and let out a soft chuckle. “I can’t have you starving in there, afterall.”

“The Justice League was nice. I’m glad that they’re going to try and send people in to help us find Hawkmoth.” Marinette averted her gaze as she added even more sugar to her tea, her hands trembled ever so slightly as she did. “I mean, I’ve been after him for years, but I’m sure with experts on the case that we’ll find him in no time.”

“Angel-”

“I hope Lila won’t cause a scene tonight, it was really nice of your father to still let my class attend.”

“Angel, what-”

“Oh, have I shown you Evangeline’s dress? I kinda decided to add some features to make it more Red Hood inspired. It didn’t take long to do, since I had the dress done.”

“Marinette, please!”

At Damian’s shout, Marinette’s mouth snapped shut and she lowered her gaze. Damian winced, feeling like the biggest asshole on earth.

“Marinette, something is bothering you.” He reached out and took her free hand, giving it a tender squeeze. He set down his cup and knelt before her, taking her hand in both of hers. “Angel, you can tell me.”

“Damian, I’m a failure.” Marinette’s voice was soft, shaky. She bowed her head, her face quickly being hidden by her veil of pitch black hair and her shoulders shook. “I don’t deserve to be the Guardian, I’m failing the world, I’m failing the Kwami, I’m just a failure.”

“Wait, where did this come from?”

“I couldn’t save him! I let my partner down, I let him get corrupted, I let him become like that and I did nothing to stop it! No he’s in jail and his life is ruined and I did nothing to stop it!”

Damian watched as Marinette put her head in her hands and began to let out loud, heart wrenching sobs. She had just screwed up everything; the boy she had loved had become corrupt and she had failed to save him, she had lost many of her friends to a liar and it took many of them three years for them to see the truth. And she was supposed to be Ladybug, the savior of Paris, yet for three years and she was still no closer to defeating Hawkmoth, no, she had to go as far as to burden other heroes to help her. And now with Fu gone, she was the Guardian of the Miraculous, she had to take care of the Kwami, make sure they were safe, make sure that she gave the Miraculous out to the right people. But she had certainly failed at that, with Alya, with Nino, and with Chloé.

The stresses that had been piling on since she was fourteen finally felt as if they were crushing her and the dam broke. Damian held her close as she fell apart, soon being reduced to a whimpering, sobbing mess.

"Why couldn't I keep Alya with me? I couldn't protect Master Fu, I just kept screwing up and hurting my friends, I was such a stalker to Adrien, I just-" Whatever else she was going to say got lost in her sobs.

Damian wanted to say something. To go about assuring her and making sure she knew she was well loved, that she had done nothing wrong.

He let her cry, but kept silent. He wasn't the person to say those things to her; he had only known her for less than a week.

Yet less than a week goes by and he is already in love with her.

…

Damian came downstairs a few hours later, seeing his family and Marinette's teammates seated around the living room, looking rather grim.

"She's fine. She's resting now." Damian spoke up, drawing all attention to him. He had no doubt they had all been talking about Marinette just moments ago. "She… She had herself a good long cry."

“I’m not surprised, with what Dupain-Cheng has had to put up with since we were still in middle school.” Chloé muttered darkly, snuggled in between her girlfriend and boyfriend, the three of them firmly gripping hands. Their Kwami were seated on the table, talking amongst themselves as they had done since after the talk with the League. Chloé gave a look to Kagami, then booped her lightly on the nose. "I told you this was gonna happen sooner than later."

"But Marinette is so strong, she certainly wouldn't crumble so suddenly." Kagami frowned as Damian took a seat as well, holding her girlfriend closer now.

"Perhaps Chat Noir's betrayal was the straw that broke the camel's back." Luka suggested as he lazily ran his fingers through Kagami's short hair, making her smile, though it was a bit strained.

"Surely things weren't that bad. I mean, you guys had to deal with only one villain." Dick spoke up, and all the Parisian heroes stared at him.

Very poor choice of words, Dick.

"Excuse me, you've only known Marinette for what, five days or so? And miss 'I instantly got protective of Marinette as soon as I met her'" Chloé pointed toward Eva. "Has only known her for about six months, as creepy as that sounds. No offense."

"None taken." Eva held up a hand, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"But I've known her longer than anyone here. Before we were fourteen, she was a spineless little doormat. When we first met, she was this little goody two shoes who had a lot of friends. But once I started targeting her, because I was really jealous of her, I targeted her friends. Nino, Kim, all of her friends distanced themselves from her because they did not want to be bullied. So she was my personal punching bag until we got to middle school. She met Alya, she became Ladybug and she grew that much needed backbone. But she was still a doormat.

"She'd make cakes for everyone's birthday every year. She'd bring in treats just to be nice, she planned parties, she made decorations, she could make her friends dresses and other pieces of clothing for free. And Lila came and turned everyone against her again. Another bully and everyone's loyalty was as flimsy as tissue paper. She was a shiny new toy who promised tales of grand adventure and connections to powerful people. Surely you Waynes understand how a lot of people just want to be your friend just for your money and power."

The Waynes all exchanged glances. They certainly did know that feeling, and from what they saw of Miss Bustier's class, a lot of them seemed happy with the shiny, promising Lila until they suddenly learned the truth.

"Yeah, so Marinette stayed a doormat to everyone in the class. Even to this day, she organised this big, massive trip to Gotham for them and they haven't thanked her once, from what I can guess.

"When my Daddy was arrested last year and my Mother left us to get away from the scandal, Marinette didn't let the past stop her from helping me. She didn't hold a grudge. When I was kicked out of The Grand Paris, lost my money and my power, the class ganged up on me. Revenge for the years of hell I put them through, though I deserved every second of it…"

"No, you didn't. No one deserves to be doused in paint. No one deserves to have her entire wardrobe cut up, when she doesn't have money to buy any more." Luka cut in, hugging Chloé tight as he kissed her temple. Chloé wiped away a year and sniffled.

"A-anyway, Marinette and her family took me in. I hated her, I never stood up for her, I did nothing. I didn't care about her, I never did anything nice for her, yet here she was, offering me a place to stay when no one else would. I was a brat, but she and her family helped me to become better."

Chloé was quiet for a few minutes after her rant, wiping away more tears that came.

"What I'm trying to say is a lot of stuff has built up. A lot of responsibility on her shoulders. She was fourteen when she and Adrien became heroes. Still kids, we still are kids. She's not even twenty and she's the Guardian of the Miraculous." Chloé shook her head, meeting Dick's gaze. "So next time you decide to say shit like that, think twice."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know." Dick swallowed the lump in his throat and he looked down. "I shouldn't have said that."

"She needs a night of fun." Eva spoke up, drawing attention to herself, though she looked rather sullen. "She just needs a night where she can be the fairytale princess, alright? A lot of us have already let her down, myself included with that meltdown I had and my powers kinda going out of wack."

"Were you the reason people were reporting in a small area was being affected by Scarecrow's fear toxin?" Cass sat up sharply, eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, sorry. I've gotten myself under control now, I promise. Anyway, do you think we can give her the best night of her life at the gala?"

"I don't see a problem with that." Bruce spoke up, giving his own smile as he watched everyone. "I mean, after everything that’s happened, I think one drama free night could be good for everyone.”

“There’s still an issue. We need a new Black Cat.” Tikki spoke up, flying up from the table and giving everyone there a stern look. “The Ladybug is active, she needs the Black Cat to maintain the balance. If not, there could be dire consequences.”

“But who the heck could take the ring?” Luka sat up, frowning as he sat the Kwami on the table exchanging looks. “You’ve all said yourselves that it is a lot of power to handle. The power of destruction isn’t an easy one to control.”

“I want him to take it.” Plagg pointed, drawing all eyes to where he was pointing; Damian Wayne. “I can see your soul, kid, I see you have more destruction and death in your life than most. I see you love and care for Tikki’s chosen better than Adrien ever could, so I choose you to be my Chosen.”

“What? Wait, no, shouldn’t we wait for Marinette’s say on this?” Damian frowned and crossed his arms as he glared down at the small cat Kwami. “I mean, she is the Guardian, isn’t she? And the Black Cat is supposed to be her partner, so she should certainly get a say in this. We can’t just go making decisions behind her back.”

He didn’t miss the wide grin on Plagg’s face.

“You, kid, are definitely a good choice. I like you already. Now, do you guys have any carembert around here?”

…

Marinette bit her lower lip as Chloé pinned up her hair, leaving a few stray curls to frame her pretty face.

“Thank you for doing my hair, Chloé. I’d be lost without you.” Mari whispered softly, blushing brilliantly as she stared at herself in the mirror. She felt so… Pretty. Almost like a princess. Her dark hair was pinned back and up, showing off her delicate face and neck, which would complement the pale pink dress she had made herself for this gala. It was a lovely dress, a strapless evening gown that hugged her body until the hips, then flowed out with the beautiful fabric. It was her finest work yet. “I was afraid I’d burn my hair with a curling iron or something.”

“Oh puh-lease, I would kill you if you tried to use a curling iron again, especially with what happened last time.” Chloé snorted and turned Marinette around, beginning with her friend’s make-up. She carefully coloured the lips pink, and got to work with the rest of the make-up. “You should be grateful I decided to stay in Gotham after our talk with the League, I could be at home with Luka and Kagami watching our favourite movie.”

“So sorry to inconvenience you, your highness.” Marinette playfully mocked, before the two burst into soft fits of giggles. She turned and hugged Chloé tightly, the two staying like that for a few minutes. "I wish you were coming tonight, it would be nice to have friends there."

"Well, I don't really want to run into Bustier and the others." Chloé made a face as she pulled back, then gently shrugged as she smiled. "Besides, you have Miss Evangeline, though she'll probably be glued to her hunk all evening. Is there something about Gotham that lets you guys find love?"

"It's not love. Just a fun fling while we're in Gotham." Evangeline stepped into the room and Marinette hummed in appreciation at the sight of her.

The black halter style evening gown hugged the older woman's rather large curves, the keyhole on the neckline having been altered to be more bat shaped by a cheeky Marinette. And when the young designer included a short dark brown jacket and red pumps, Eva had looked ready to smack Marinette upside the head when she commented on how now Eva could go to the gala as a fancy Red Hood, since she was so smitten with him.

"My work at its finest." Marinette stood and made her way over to her own dress, Chloé quickly helping her put it on. She felt a bit nervous how she had made her own neckline a bit daring, but she had quickly convinced herself that she wasn't a little girl anymore. She was almost an adult, she had no time for pigtails and childish things.

Adrien's face flashed in her mind and it took everything in Marinette not to flinch. Instead she slid on her pale pink kitty heels and brushed her hands to smooth the slim skirt with an overlay of pale pink sheer fabric, decorated with dark pink flowers.

"Do you think Damian will like it?" Marinette gave a small twirl, instantly seeking to distract herself. "I mean, it's really… Pink."

"The guy is obviously smitten, he'd be an idiot to not have his jaw on the floor when he sees you." Chloé rolled her eyes once again, crossing her arms. "Or is yours just a fling too?"

"Oh, um…" Marinette felt herself blush as she grabbed her pale pink wrap shawl, toying with it gently. "Well, it's not a fling. It's not love, but I think it's going to be. I just don't want to rush into things again."

"You haven't. Don't worry, sugar cookie." Eva went and hugged Marinette tightly, holding her close. "But let's not worry about that. For now, let's worry about having a fun night tonight, rubbing elbows with the upper crust of Gotham."

With a smile, Chloé took them both by the arm and guided them downstairs to the main hall of the mansion, where their dates were waiting.

When Damian looked up and saw Marinette, he felt the breath leave his lungs. She was stunning, not surprising to him, but she seemed to glow, almost. She really was an angel…

"You certainly clean up good." Marinette smiled as she tucked her hand into his offered arm, then blushed when her mother began taking pictures. "Do you think I can do this? I don't want to embarrass anyone."

"You'll do just fine." Damian kissed her temple softly as he guided her out to the limo, his family and their dates following close behind.

"You look absolutely stunning tonight, Marinette. I am sure you will be the belle of the ball." Kor'i piped up happily once the limo got moving, snuggled into Dick's side.

"I think that honour might go to Selena." Marinette put in quickly, no sure if her face could get any redder from embarrassment. "I mean, you look gorgeous."

Selena let out a laugh and the women in the vehicle began to praise each other on their outfits, all the while Marinette stared out the window, feeling a sense of uneasiness in her stomach.

…

"Wow…" Marinette whispered in awe as soon as they stepped into the main ballroom. It was certainly a scene of splendor and high society, all obviously ignoring the day to day lives they live in Gotham. A place where you can forget the murderous villains looming outside your door.

"Mari, look at you! You look awesome!" Nino parted from the crowd, looking so odd in a trim dark suit, with no ball cap in sight. Marinette had to admit, he made quite the handsome looking gentleman. "Far out, dudette."

"You look rather handsome, Nino. You almost look like a man of high society. Your slang gives you away though.” Mari smiled, though it was a bit tight at the corners. She then blinked in surprise when Nino held out a hand.

“Can we dance?” Nino motioned his head over to the dance floor, where many couples already were. “I want to talk to you.”

“Of course, Nino..”

Marinette was guided to the dancefloor, not seeing the frowning faces of Eva and Damian. They could easily see the girl’s key trait in action; she forgave far too easily and quickly.

“What did you want to talk about?” Marinette gazed up at her friend as the two of them began to dance, though it was a bit more awkward than most due to their lack of experience.

“I know I apologized already for Alya and everything… But I don’t think I properly apologized for myself. I deserted you, Mari, a girl who’s like a sister to me. I left you hanging and I never once looked back and that was wrong of me.”

“Listen, Nino, it’s okay, I forgi-” Marinette began, but was quickly cut off by Nino giving a firm shake of his head.

“No, I don’t deserve that. I haven’t done anything to redeem myself yet. I’m not following the herd anymore. From now on I’m gonna stick by your side.” Nino grinned down at her, then gave her a playful wink. “Should be easier since I broke up with Alya.”

“I beg your pardon, you did what?!”

…

Lila scowled as she glanced around the ballroom, her grip tightening on her flute of champagne. None of the cute rich guys were even looking her way and she was dressed to the nines. The tight bronze dress she wore hugged her body tightly, the neckline plunging low, almost to her navel, leaving her non existent cleavage on full display. She even had her signature hairstyle in that perfectly framed her pretty face.

It was all Marinette’s fault, Lila knew that for a fact. If that stupid bitch had stayed at the hotel the first day, then Lila would have had all attention on her and would have won the heart of Damian Wayne as soon as he had seen her. Marinette and now that creep Eva always ruined everything for Lila, but it was easy to turn the class against them. Even Mis Bustier, who could see through Lila’s lies, scolded the two on causing conflict.

She should be out amongst the rich and fabulous, being basked in glory and praise, but from her vantage point, she could see Marinette enter the room on the youngest Wayne’s arm and all attention being drawn to the young Parisian girl. Lila wanted to go over there and rip the girl’s tacky dress to shreds, because now Lila was stuck just standing with her class, who had no idea how to behave at a formal event. Everyone avoided them like the plague, and Alya having her phone out and trying to get interviews certainly wasn’t helping matters!

“Alya, put that away! You’re only embarrassing yourself!” Lila snapped, taking a long drink of her champagne as Alya once again stepped up to a famous person and sought out an interview. “”Besides, no one here will give you an interview thanks to Marinette. I heard she made the Waynes tell everyone to keep away from you because you are a tabloid journalist or something.”

“She did what?!” Alya spun around sharply, her mouth agape. “How could she do that?! I mean, first she stole Damian from you, she got Adrien locked up, and now this?!”

“I know, isn’t she horrible?” Lila teared up and wiped away her tears, her entourage instantly rushing to her side to try and soothe her. The rest of the class simply rolled their eyes and continued to enjoy themselves. This was a fancy party, afterall, and Miss Bustier was off flirting with some rich guy to even keep an eye on them.

Lila watched from the corner of her eye as Evangeline danced with one of the Waynes, Jason if she remembered correctly. They seemed enraptured with each other, bodies pressed tightly together as they slow danced and whispered into the other’s ear. It made Lila want to vomit. But then she watched as Jason excused himself and left the room. Nino excused himself from Marinette and left as well, probably to head to the bathroom. But green eyes narrowed as she watched Eva leave through the same door a few minutes later, a slowly grin spreading across Lila’s face.

Perhaps this evening wouldn’t be such a waste afterall. Even since Alya’s pathetic show of being dumped, she was even more easy to manipulate. So when Lila showed Alya a picture of Eva and Nino talking in the dining hall, Lila having made sure the angle and posture looked intimate, and she had tearfully told Alya that Eva was probably the reason Nino had dumped her.

It was never hard to get Alya worked up.

Around a few minutes later, when Jason entered the room, disheveled, Eva close behind, Lila tapped Alya's shoulder and motioned over to Eva just as Nino exited the hallway after her.

"Look at her. Are those hickies on her neck?" Lila hissed in an infuriated tone, but smiled when she felt Alya's body tense under hers. "I mean, I know she's a creep, but to fuck him here of all places? She really does deserve to rot in a cell."

…

Marinette beamed as Damian dipped her backwards, feeling almost breathless from all of the dancing she had been doing with him. It was almost two hours into this thing and her feet were beginning to work.

"Can we get something to drink?" Marinette whispered into Damian's ear once he helped her straighten, then leaned into him as they made their way over to the refreshments table, where Eva and Jason were conversing with Selena and Bruce.

"You two kittens seem to be having fun." Selena smiled as she handed both of them a glass of champagne. "Marinette, everyone's been asking about your dress, they're trying to figure out who the designer is."

"It's an MDC original." Marinette smiled as she went to take a sip, but was stopped by Damian, who sent a glare to Selena.

"She's only eighteen, she can't drink alcohol. She's underaged." He said in such a stern tone, it took everything in Marinette not to snort. He sounded so adult for someone who was nineteen.

"Damian, how could you, seducing someone who's still a child, barely out of high school?" Selena gave a dramatic gasp as she pressed a hand to her chest, as if she were about to faint. "How could you? Why, I'm sure Satan himself would be ashamed."

"Enough out of you!" Damian felt his cheeks redden in embarrassment at Selena's theatrics. Though he did give Marinette a side glance as he watched her set down her flute of champagne and got herself one full of juice. Though she seemed unbothered by the whole conversation.

"Now, let's not get rowdy. Sugar cookie here has drunk alcohol before, the legal drinking age in France is eighteen afterall." Eva put in, wrapping a supportive arm around Marinette's shoulders. "As long as no one gets drunk and sloppy, we should be fine."

"Thank you, Eva, for helping Nino." Marinette murmured into the TA's ear, causing a look of surprise to cross the young woman's face. "Miss Bustier isn't the best person to go to for advice. She would have told him to try and fix things and stick with her."

"Where is that blundering idiot anyway?" Eva muttered as she saw the French class, but no Bustier in sight. She groaned and massaged her temples as she realized the idiot had left a group of rambunctious teenagers unsupervised. This would not go well.

"I might have to duck away for a bit. If those kids get drunk, this party might get rowdy." Eva patted Jason's arm gently, then broke away from the Waynes, beginning to head towards the class. But being splashed in the face with champagne stopped her in her tracks.

"Alya!" Marinette snapped as she instantly rushed to Eva's side, the entire room having gone silent. Eva stood there, dumbstruy, her make up running thanks to the champagne, while Alya sneered at the older woman.

"That's what ya get, you bitdch... Did you honestly fink you could get away wif it?" Alya's words were slurred, her cheeks rosy as she clumsily set her hands on her hips. "I have the proofs."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Eva hissed, her face flushed red from embarrassment as Marinette grabbed some napkins a waiter brought and began dabbing up the alcohol. Alya sneered and pointed a shaky finger at Eva, stumbling on her feet as she tried to take a threatening step forward.

"Lila shaw you two. Apparently you snuck.out the other day, to fuck. The day before Marinette trickeded Adrien, you were gone all afternoon." Alya slurred, then reached out, slapping the woman across the face before Marinette could stop her. "I know you were a fucking pedophile. Lila was right, you are a creep. Why else are you so close with Marinette? I bet you fuck her too."

Bruce motioned towards the nearby security guards, but Eva merely held up a hand, her purple eyes glaring deep into Alya's.

"I became her friend because I knew she needed one. Because I knew your loyalty was so fickle that you turned your back on her years ago. She barely knew me, but the first thing she did for me was make me a scarf with my favourite flowers on it because I was homesick. I was stuck with a class that took a liar's words at face value because she offered them pretty stories and fake opportunities. Marinette didn't make things easy for you, playing along with everything, so you decided to drop her. Yes, I'm her TA, but I am also her friend. A better friend than you, Ladybug certainly agrees."

"You shut your whore face, you don't even know Ladybug! Lila says she hated your guts!" Alya made another move for her, but Jason firmly gripped Alya's wrist, stopping the girl in her tracks. "Let me go, you creep! She's cheating on you with a high schooler!"

"Funny, the time you gave that scenario to her, Miss Rossi." Jason's hard eyes flickered to the girl in question, his look so deadly that it made her shiver. "Because it is impossible. You see, she was with me the entire time, tied to her hotel bed and calling me Daddy."

Marinette let out an embarrassment squeak while Eva turned crimson and softly cursed Jason's entire existence.

Lila scowled and strode right up to Jason, tears soon flooding her eyes as she began her theatrics.

"Did Marinette get to you too? Oh no, how many times has she spread her legs to ruin my life? First she steals Damian away from me, now she turns all of you into her personal attack dogs? And here I thought Eva was the whore!"

"Caline!" Eva turned and snapped at the woman across the room, who looked flabbergasted. "For gods' sake, get your class under control and stop humping Dick's leg. He's married, you twit!"

Caline went crimson and hurried over, setting a hand on Alya's and Lila's shoulders, trying to pull the girls away, but Alya shoved her teacher away and got right in Marinette's face.

"I've had enough of you! You ruin everything, Marinette! I tried, but you lost everything for a reason! You failed with Adrien because you are pathetic and spineless, so you decide to get him arrested. Lila was in a happy relationship with Damian, but you were jealous she won us this trip so you decided to steal him and take ownership of this entire thing! You're a pathetic leech, and an enabler. I bet you watched as your whore fucked Nino, I bet!"

"That's enough Alya!" Nino stormed forward, and more shouting began.

There was such chaos; angry words being thrown around, hands reaching out to scratch and claw, security rushing in to assist.

No one even noticed the little black butterfly that flew over their heads.

Marinette watched as security began to drag the drunken Alya away, while Miss Bustier tried to convince them to let her go, that it was all some misunderstanding. Lila began wailing, trying to put as much attention as she could on herself. Even Nino was shouting, but it was all lost in the noise. Marinette rushed to Damian's side and tightly gripped his band, until a shriek pierced the air.

"Jason!"

Everyone looked over, and every French person in the room let out a scream of terror.

For framing Jason's handsome face was the outline of a purple butterfly. Marinette instantly rushed over, kneeling next to Eva, who was screaming for Jason to fight it, to break whatever had been akumatized, anything!

And they both watched helplessly as Jason was engulfed in purple.

Taglist: @realrandomposts @interobanginyourmom @ladybug-182 @ladylb @zalladane @mochinek0 @persephonebutkore @urbanpineapplefarmer @vixen-uchiha @angelofmusickaterinapetrova @thewheezingbubbledragon @northernbluetongue @violatiger8 @thequestionablyhuman @ginamarie1512 @maude-zarella @2sunchild2 @saphiraazure2708 @ayuchan07 @virgil-is-a-cutie @thepeacetea @miraculous786 @enchanted-nerd @zebrabaker

#Seeing Green #maribat #alya salt #lila salt #daminette #dc x mlb #maridami

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mymindsmadness · 5 years

Text

Why I hate seeing the Uchiha logo on Sakura’s shirt/why I don’t ship SasuSaku

DISCLAIMER: I’m not shitting on anyone’s ship. I get it. You love them. You do you booboo, I’m just here to speak my truth. Don’t come at me with comments shitting all over the things I love. You have your opinion and I have mine.

If you are a SasuSaku shipper and you read past this point, you have no one but yourself to blame for your anger!

I’m probably gonna rant a bit, so I’ll start with the bottom line. Sakura and Sasuke’s relationship is one of the most toxic relationships I’ve ever seen.

Unrelated (but kind of related): All the female character are written pretty shitty, and that adds to this whole mess.

Part I [Young Love]:

Okay. I get it. She’s all for Sasuke and he doesn’t give her the time of day. We love a queen that gets hers in the end. The problem is that Sakura’s core personality traits are based off of her obsession. Her wants. Her flaws. Her essence as a [non] person is completely defined by Sasuke’s character. This is even verified when Kakashi asks them about themselves and Sakura literally gives [giggles] Sasuke for every answer.

When they’re tested with the bells, Sakura shows no ninja prowess whatsoever. She shows no skill beyond hiding in a bush. The only time we really see her moving/thinking/talking, is when it’s to ‘rescue Sasuke’. She even refers to him as ‘my Sasuke’ a dozen or so times. Seriously, it could be a drinking game.

During the chunin exams, we see a little more of a backbone from Sakura. But even as she struggles to make herself be seen, she really only wants to be seen by – you guessed it – Sasuke.

When Sasuke gets extra angsty [YOLO style], and tries to leave the village, Sakura tries to go with him. Think about that. Sakura tries to leave the village. Her home. Her family. Her friends. Everything! She does this because the idea of becoming a criminal is more appealing than being left behind by Sasuke.

But you know what? I’ll excuse it. She’s only thirteen at this point. She’s entitled to make stupid choices in the name of puppy love. We’ve all been there, man. And sure, at thirteen all love feels like true love. You know what girl? I forgive you.

Part II [Personal Growth]

At this point, Sakura’s whole character arch is defined by the people that leave her. And I could forgive this – almost. Enter Tsunade. I love Tsunade. I worship Tsunade. She is probably the one female character in the whole show that is as well integrated as the men [if we ignore the fact that her whole backstory is revolved around them]. When Sakura started training with Tsunade, I knew there was about to be an Eye of the Tiger montage. Sure enough, my girl comes through. Come Shippuden, Sakura is kicking ass and taking names [literally]. Better yet, she found her niche in medical ninjutsu [insert joke about how females always play the healers]. She’s got chakra for days and the control of a saint. Piss my girl off? You ‘bout to lose a lung.

Yes, Sakura’s still insecure when it comes to her place among the others, but can we blame her? She had demi-gods as teammates. But it’s different now. Sakura knows she’s a badass. She’s fully aware that her control and strength are something to be proud of. She uses those years of neglect and training to help her comrades!... and chase down Sasuke.

By the beginning of the 4th war, this bitch has lost her damn mind. At this point, Sakura and Naruto have been searching for Sasuke for the last 3 [or so] years. All this time, Sakura is under the impression that she’s in love with him. The times from when Sasuke left to the end of the war, are some of the most defining years in a person’s life. At 13-17 is when a person’s personality really starts to develop and lay out the foundation for the adult they will be.

Part III [All’s Fair]

Now, I’m not saying that Sakura didn’t hold a certain level of love for Sasuke her whole life. It’s very possible. However, there was no way it could be a romantic love. Think about who you were when you were twelve. Now think about who you were at seventeen. Did anything change in that time?

Sakura could not have been in love with Sasuke because she didn’t know who he was. They hadn’t been in contact in years! She had the memory of who he had been on a pedestal, and without him around to alter that image, it became more and more idyllic. By the time Sasuke returned [at the end of the war], Sakura was still in love with the idea of him.

She had put their relationship and romance in the forefront of her mind all of her life. It had been her driving force and defining mindset. When this crazy ass bitch [ily gurl] activated her seal and literally jumped on a pike for her boys, it was the most badass thing she’d ever done. And when she was done with that? She got upset that Sasuke hadn’t noticed/cared. She was fighting for her friends, her family, her village, her life… and all that confidence she had gained was brought down by the fact that the boy she thought she loved didn’t notice.

Part IV [In Which Sasuke Cares… Allegedly]

Remember when Sakura finally got Sasuke to notice her? When he overcame his terminal broodiness and admitted that he was touched that she never gave up hope in him? When he kissed her goodbye with the promise of returning and being worth all of her unfounded love and attention?

Oh… right… that never happened.

I mean… he tapped her forehead like Itachi did to him that one time… Same thing I suppose.

Okay, okay… I might be being a little harsh. I’ll concede that it is a genuine act of affection for Sasuke. But… a minor one. Alright, our broody boi doesn’t like PDA… Still, we’re given no indication that they talked about their feelings before this goodbye. That’s backed up by the fact that she asks to go with him – something she would have done before now if they had. Legit, Naruto got more of a goodbye than Sakura did [two dudes, chillin’ in the woods].

To the best of everyone’s knowledge, Sasuke only stayed in Konoha for about a year after the war. Now, depending if you follow the manga or anime, some of that time might have been in jail. My point is, that a year or less was spent in the village after several years of Sakura loving him from a distance.

At this point, she very well might have learned about the older Sasuke. She might have decided that she did still love him [doubtful on a realistic level]. But then he leaves. We’re not sure for how long, but if we look at Boruto, it’s common for him to leave for long periods of time.

Once again, Sakura is left behind with her memories of the man she thinks she loves [because without a functioning adult relationship, there’s no way to be sure].

Part V [Sakura Achieves Her Nightmare Dreams]

Let’s step into Boruto for this next part. We flash forward to all of our beloved characters in their adult years. I know what you’re thinking ‘Oh! I’ve missed so much! They’re all so grown up!’. Hahaha, don’t worry. They’re not at all the same people.

Since the series is based on the children, we’re forced to fill in some of the blanks ourselves. Sakura – the best medic nin in Konoha. The woman whose strength rivals that of her mentor’s. The woman who mastered the Seal of 100. The woman who grew into her own as a character, even if the driving force was a boy - is living her best life as… a housewife? I mean... maybe?

We don’t know this for sure, and a lot of us hope she runs the hospital or something [because we want all good things for our girl], but have you noticed that she doesn’t wear a headband? A ninja one that is. The girl who worked hard to not be left behind’s whole adulthood is… the woman left behind.

Even if it can be argued that she achieved her goal… has she? Yes, she wanted to be Sasuke’s wife and baby mama since waaaaay too young of an age to be thinking about that shit, but like this? We know from the fact that Sakura fainted when Sasuke came home that he’s rarely there. This means that she probably raised their daughter alone. Even now, she can’t just leave because Sasuke’s always away.

If you think I’m taking libraries with filling in the gaps, I refer you to that one time her daughter basically asked if they were really married. And if you think I’m exaggerating Sasuke’s absence, I refer you to that time he almost killed his fucking daughter because he didn’t know what she looked like!

Let that sink in.

Part VI [In Summation]

Sakura was a girl that grew up with a false ideal of love. She obsessed over a person that didn’t exist and carried that falsehood into her adult life. When presented with everything she thought she had wanted her whole life, Sakura jumped on the chance because it was the logical move. In gaining everything that she thought she wanted, Sakura lost any personal growth that she had gained by the absence of her obsession aka Sasuke.

Sasuke, who had ignored her as a child, tried to kill her as a teen, and barely acknowledged her beyond using her to revive his clan, can’t be bothered to even appreciate her. Even as he leaves again as an adult, he says goodbye to their daughter [again, with an oh-so-affectionate poke], but simply walks away from Sakura.

The truth is that given the way she blushes and faints around him still, Sakura doesn’t know him. She’s still in love with an idea of the man that grew from the boy she had been obsessed with all her life. She wears the Uchiha symbol on her back as a reminder that she did it. She got the guy! True love wins again! I mean… maybe? He’s fucked her at least, so…

There’s a chance that Sasuke loves Sakura. I think he loves her for loving him. At the very least, we know he’s fond of her… I assume.

Sakura was a character that was used to further the plot of a man. Even as an adult, she’s left to sit and pine as the boys go off on their adventures. She’s a woman that’s stuck in a hell of her own creation – even if she loves her daughter and the things that marrying Sasuke has brought her.

There’s ‘getting the guy’ and being trapped in a toxic idealized relationship. How you choose to see this one is up to you.

#anti sasusaku #naruto #sasuke uchiha #sakura haruno #my opinion #rant #toxic relationship

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parisa-astra15 · 4 years

Text

~♪ Rhythm of Your Heart ♪~ (Days 3-7)

Summary: A series of compilation stories set in my College Alternate Universe, where the Lolirock cast are just normal teenagers heading off to college trying to figure out life while settling into adulthood. Musically set to the tunes of Marianas Trench.

Ships: Talisto, Levyna, NatIris,ZackPrax, Rorissa and MattAuri a few others sprinkled in there.

*If it’s not your cup of Tea that’s 100% fair, go enjoy all the other awesome content from the fandom ~

**If you are here for Talisto week 2020, welcome! Hope you like the stories!

Day 3: First Kiss

The sound of music and dancing was the universal sign of a good time. She had come out tonight to feel normal again. Enough time had passed and yet here she was.

Talia blended into the crowd and began to sneak out of a party, purposely avoiding her friends, taking the route off the roof by using the fire escape. She frowns as tears stung her eyes as she hugs her arms softly. After a few steps she sighed leaning against the wall taking a seat outside of Lev’s apartment. She wanted to leave, but it was a shitty thing to leave without saying anything to Iris and Auriana. This only made the pressure of anger in her lower abdomen knot and twist as she took a seat on the steps of the fire escape.

What brought on this mixture of melancholy and angry frustration? A stupid song, her ex’s favorite song, it had been a month since she and Kyle had broken up. And some dumb song shouldn't make her feel so many emotions all once, it was like remembering something she had desperately to forget and bury yet couldn't.

Suddenly there was a click from the sliding door opening and a surprise gaze of a young burgundy hair man holding a bowl of chips. He looked surprised to find her there.

She knew him vaguely from campus, he was in the drama department with Lev, and he noticed her crying because his first words to her were.

"Hey… are you okay?" He asked softly, looking at her. "You like you've been crying…"

Talia gave half a sigh mixed with a dry laugh "....Just… heard my Ex's favorite song play...I don't know its stupid" he took a seat across from her and gave a small smile. "Hey, no… it's not dumb...I'm a theater kid… if there's one thing we know is a broken heart… Now unless you want to belt out a ballad of self empowerment, Talking about it usually helps. And who better than someone you probably won't see again" he winks at her which made her smile, the joke helped to ease any tension or embarrassment she felt. There was something in his eyes that gave an air of kindness. She gave a nod "he was my highschool sweetheart…. " she started

The hours passed and she told him, her story, of how she was with this guy for years and all of the sudden he just broke up with her because her college was too far away and long distance relationships don't work. They passed around the snacks till the empty bowl was all that was left. Finally when she finished Talia took a deep sigh of relief, she had no idea how long she had kept that inside her chest. Locked up under the guise of self control and keeping up appearances that she was fine. To share it with someone felt nice, she felt heard and looked at Mephisto who had processed the whole ordeal with her.

At first he frowns "Wow…that's such a jerk move….just everything he did it sounds like he was just looking for a excuse to break up and instead of talking to you and not completely blindsiding you he just one day decided to be jerk and make up an excuse…." He said sighing deeply as he ran his fingers through his hair and looking at her with a soft gaze. "He genuinely doesn't deserve you. When he grows up and realizes that. I hope he has enough backbone to apologize for what he's done…as for you feeling sad…. It happened a month ago. You should let yourself grieve, However you want to. It was a long relationship, a relationship you put a lot of your heart into loving them and that doesn't just go away… It may have been for him, but that took a while and he had his time to figure his feelings. So should you. You didn't wake up one day with the thought that everything was leading up to a break up. You genuinely thought things were okay between you two and suddenly they weren't, you need time to process that. You know?"

"I…. Thank you…." She whispers and nods "that's really solid advice… and I never considered letting myself do that… I'm the tough one you know… nothing gets to me…." She sniffles a bit wiping her face with the back of her hand.

He shook his head "no one can be okay after that…it's okay to feel and recover…"

Talia made a small noise of agreement "Hey, let's get out here and enjoy the party….could I know your name?" She asked as she got up, he gave a nod and smiled getting up too. "Mephisto, it's an honor to make your acquaintance milady " he said in a dramatic manner making her laugh "I'm Talia, thanks for hearing me out." She leans over and kisses his cheek softly, just an innocent kiss on the cheek as they headed upstairs to the party. Mephisto felt a small blush on his cheeks "aw, it's no biggie… I'd do it any time… hey do know the Coffee place on Bartley street?"

"Yeah, the book shop?"

"I hang out there, mostly to read scripts and drink coffee if you ever want to hang out?"

Talia smiles "sounds like fun"

They were unaware of it at the time but a friendship was made that night on the fire escape.

Day 4: Retro Fashion

Talia had never considered performing in a fashion show before but Lyna had put in so much effort into her final project. Lyna had sat in several of Talia’s american history courses to learn about the 1920’s. Her professors were surprised to find out the curious young lady with the lengthy notes wasn’t actually enrolled in the courses and was actually a fashion major.

Throughout the semester Lyna would come over with revised sketches of the gowns she was making. Asking Talia for advice on accessories and accuracy. Which was more than happy to give feedback but she was genuinely caught off guard and flattered when Lyna asked her to model the stunning gown inspired by the ever glamorous Josphine Baker. “Of course” She smiles. It was a strapless black and white ball gown decorated and accessorized with her signature pearls.

The collection was something her friend had worked so hard on. Talia was happy to support her.

Later that afternoon, she sat on the counter top as Mephisto chopped vegetables for dinner.

“So are you free next Saturday afternoon?” She asked. Mephisto glances over as he reaches over his head for a bowl on the shelf. “ Yeah I should be done with finals”

“Do you want to come to a fashion show?”

“Fashion show?” He smiles “ Are you modeling for Lyna’s Final?”

“Yeah.” She blushes a bit “ Do you think it's silly”

“ Now why would I ever think that? I think it's gonna be awesome” He kisses her pouty cheek. “ I’m going to take so many pictures~”

“Oh my god”

“ and Facetime Izira.”

She laughs burying her face into his shoulder blade “You are such a dork”

“ You love it” He grins.

Day 5: Sport AU

Author’s note: I know nothing about sports, Zero. Nada. My knowledge of sports comes from sports animes and I watch them for the cute boys and nothing else.So! Instead have Praxina, Mephisto and Talia trying out Auriana’s pilates’s class.

Praxina’s frown deepens as she glares at her brother “ You have 5 minutes to explain why I’m here.” Talia looked equally exasperated at her boyfriend who, being the only morning person of the trio grins. “ I figured finals stressed us out and Auriana is teaching her first pilates class so let's go be good friends and get some exercise too!.” He said with a grin as the girls gave a groan “ You are making us breakfast after this” Praxina yawns. “ yeah” Talia smiles softly “ you do know Auriana’s classes aren’t beginner friendly right… She’s tough.”

Mephisto pales a bit realizing he might have made a mistake. ”Oh-” They headed up to the studio greeted warmly by the chipper redhead who claps her hand together. “ Alright Class! Lets have an awesome warm up!” While Talia and Praxina both being dancers could easily keep up with the beat and tempo set by Auriana. Mephisto was having trouble just keeping his breathing in check.

This was just a warm up. He was doomed. After the class, the group ended up in the small apartment where Praxina lived with her dog Brutus. Mephisto lays on his sister's couch his body feeling like jelly as Brutus the pomeranian lays on his back. “ You should have just sat down after the warm up” Talia said sips on her water. Watching him from her seat on the love seat across the coffee table from him.

“No that was quitter talk, Can’t stop, won’t stop!” He said muttering into the couch cushions as Praxina laughs walking over picking up Brutus “ He just hates being wrong, I don’t know where he gets this competitive attitude from~” Praxina comments to Talia before she grins and leans over to his ear and says “ I’m the alpha twin, now~” “Ahhh” His muffled groan came from the couch making the girls laugh as they order breakfast off their phones since their cook was down count. Overall the stress of test week is long forgotten.

Day 6+7 Gift Giving at the School Festival

Author’s note: Roark belongs to Kireiscorner~ I asked her before borrowing him~

It was a silly campus tradition, past over from one generation to the next. On the evening of the School Festival, to give a gift to your significant other before the firework’s show. Mephisto had always thought his mother’s story was a little corny, but the romantic in him had also found it a little sweet.

He wanders around the shopping district, his eyes looking in the different stores looking for the right gift. He had his heart set on finding a pair of earrings that match her favorite bracelet. “ Young man!” A sing-song voice called from a small stall. “ You look like a crafty gentleman~ Would like to buy our jewelry crafting set! Only 3 installments of 29.99!”

Mephisto pointed to himself and gave a thought he must look desperate by now because he was actually walking over. “ Hold it” A familiar voice stopped him. “ yikes man… you weren’t actually going to buy kiosk craft kits-” Lev said walking over wrapping an arm around his best friend and shaking his head at sales girl “ Sorry sweetheart, not today” He winks at her as the kiosk sale girl glares at him.

Mephisto sighs “ I’m a little desperate… I’ve been looking for a gift for Talia all morning and I’ve come up empty... Please tell me your Father owns a discount jewelry shop?”

“Nope, my old man owns and sells engagement rings and high end jewelry… but I know a man who might be able to help” Lev grins as they head out of the bustling area to a quiet shop. It was an antique shop designed on restoring metal pieces. “ Hey Roark buddy, you in?” Lev called out as a massive man walked out from the back. He gave a small grunt greeting them with a welcome. “ Roark buddy, this is Mephisto. Mephisto, this is my buddy Roark. He’s in the robotics department with me. His family owns this shop. Bud, we are in a bit of a time crunch. Do you mind if Mephisto here looks around the jewelry section?” Roark gave a shrug and continued working on the counter as Lev showed him over to the section of the counter where the restored jewelry was found. Mephisto’s eyes light up when he spotted them, sapphire earrings restored from old gold. “ How much?!” Roark gave a tired look as he got up and fetched the earrings they were around 95. Mephisto looked at everything he had saved up. That would leave him with 30 in pocket for anything at the festival. He nodded “ Okay… Could I get wrapped in a box? Blue please!”

Lev watched him with a small smile “ You really like this girl, huh…”

Mephisto blushes “ Yeah… I do… I just want to make her smile.”

Lev chuckles “ It’s nice to see you this happy again.” Roark came out the back, the earrings wrapped up in a small box, tucked neatly in a paper shopping bag. “ Thank you for your purchase,” Roark said. “ Thanks Roark you’re the best buddy” Lev winks as Roark rolled his eyes with a small grin.

Mephisto paid and thanked him too.

Hours passed and Mephisto couldn’t help but enjoy every moment he spent with Talia, this whole year by her side had been special to him. He helps her over to a nice spot to watch the fireworks where it wasn’t too crowded. “ Hey… So… It's… kind of a corny tradition but tonight some couples exchange gifts… and I wanted to give you something…” He pulled out the small box from his jacket pocket.

“It's a thank you for being you and sharing yourself with me.” Talia eyes widen and a blush spread all over her face “ Thank you… but I didn’t know-”

“Yeah it's okay you aren’t from here so I figured you wouldn’t exactly know the stories… But It wouldn’t have felt right to celebrate without telling you how I felt.”

She blushes brightly as she kisses him “ You idiot... I love you… Thank you… I can’t wait to celebrate with you next year…” She whispers hugging him close.

“That’s a promise” He smiles holding her close as the fireworks begin.

===========The End============

Author’s Note: And that was Talisto week 2020 everyone!~ As always thanks for your support! It was awesome to see everyone again~ and to celebrate with you all - Lots of love as always, Kikki~

#lolirock #Talisto #talisto week 2020 #talia princess of xeris #mephisto #Mephisto x Talia #lolirock fanfic

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yellowmagicalgirl · 5 years

Text

I Bet You Kiss Your Knuckles (Right Before They Touch My Cheek)

Lady Wifi revealed Ladybug's identity to all of Paris. It's time to pass on the torch.

So I've had this idea brewing in my head ever since I first watched the episode "Lady Wifi" when it first premiered in October 2015. It laid in the back of my head, dormant, until I saw some GIF's on tumblr in which Marinette is in the process of getting akumaitzed and immediately pulling off her earrings.

In the meantime, I watched all of season one but have only watched four episodes of seasons two and three combined, so don't expect this fic to be canon-compliant or entirely in-character.

Title comes from a Halsey song.

Here is my design for Chilocorus and here is my design for Miss Fortune.

AO3

FFN

"How can we trust the girl when we don't know who she really is?" Lady Wifi says. "We have the right to know!"

Lady WiFi tugs at Ladybug's mask. It doesn't come off, but Ladybug whimpers in pain, trying to plead with her best friend's mulberry eyes.

"Why doesn't it come off?" Lady Wifi asks.

"Uh, because it's magic?" Ladybug is relieved, both that her friend is no longer pulling at her face and the fact that her secret is safe. How can Paris trust Ladybug when they didn't know their hero's identity? How could Ladybug trust herself if they knew?

Lady Wifi does not pause for banter when Chat Noir comes in through the dumbwaiter. She freezes him, and turns back to her first prisoner. She does not wait for Ladybug to use her Lucky Charm. Hawk Moth was clear with his intentions to every victim of his akumas; take Ladybug's earrings and Chat Noir's ring. Lady Wifi wants to know Ladybug's identity. Why wait, when she can take the earrings from Ladybug, chained to the wall by pause buttons?

"Alya, please, please don't do this," Ladybug pleads. Lady Wifi smirks; her knuckles rest on Ladybug's cheek bone as she grabs the red-and-black stud with her index and pointer finger.

"Like I said, Alya's not here." She is quick about pulling out the first earring, and immediately moves on to the second one. "Now, let me see who's hiding behind a mask."

Except Alya is here. She may have mulberry eyes and wear a black mask and jumpsuit, but it is Alya who trembles as in a shiver of sparkles Ladybug becomes Marinette once more. It is not anger, but regret that fills her face and causes her to set the earrings on the counter as she backs away. A messy, perhaps unintentional stroke dismisses the pause buttons on Marinette's wrists and Chat Noir's body.

"Save me," Alya pleads, disappearing into orchid pixels.

"Ma, my Lady?" Chat asks. Marinette wonders if he regrets all those questions he asked her on the stairs.

Marinette glances at the video, likely still playing. "One moment," she says. She grabs her earrings and she walks into the freezer. Maybe the tears at the corner of her eyes will freeze.

"It's cold!" Tikki complains the second Marinette puts her earrings on.

"Everyone knows I'm Ladybug now," she said, eyes downcast. "Hawk Moth knows who I am."

"I know," Tikki says. Her voice is solemn. "But you still need to save Alya."

Ladybug walks out of the freezer, rubbing at her arms.

"I jammed the signal," Chat says, pointing to the pan lid hanging over the the video symbol. "But I'm not sure how to get both of us out of here, unless you want to take the dumbwaiter one at a time. Are... are you okay?"

Ladybug shrugs and summons her Lucky Charm. "Stand back," she says, already maneuvering the microwave.

Chat, his usual self-sacrificing self, still tries to shield her with his body. And maybe she is off her game, and maybe she needs it.

The pause button disappears.

"Destroy the WiFi box," Ladybug says. "That way she won't be able to use her powers."

"Are you okay?" Chat asks again, more insistently this time as they run. "I know you and Alya are friends."

Ladybug does not ask how Chat knows about her friendship with Alya. There have been far too many akuma attacks at Collège Françoise Dupont. He could have seen her interacting with Alya at any point that he got to her school before she could transform. It was odd, how often that was. She'd think he is professional because of this, if not for his constant joking and flirting when she is around.

They reach the rooftop, and Lady Wifi is waiting, and based upon the glowing outline so is Hawk Moth. "Give up, Ladybug. I know who you are," Lady Wifi says. Her voice is cold, faraway. The corner of her eye twitches, like she is in pain.

They need to save her.

Ladybug distracts Lady Wifi as Chat unleashes a Cataclysm upon the WiFi box. He then holds down Lady Wifi so that Ladybug can break her phone in two and purify the akuma.

Akuma victims do not remember what they did. Alya immediately asks if the two heroes of Paris would give her a quick interview, like she hadn't already exposed Ladybug. The heroes make their way to a balcony on the opposite side of the building.

Chat holds her wrist as she goes to swing away. "Wait, I want you to know who I am. It's only fair."

"No, Chat," she says. "Your identity is too important; not even I can learn it. It's too dangerous. Distract the paparazzi for me, please?"

Marinette's parents are waiting for her. And why wouldn't they be? Their daughter has been caught risking her life for all of Paris.

"Marinette, we're proud of you," her papa said, "but we're worried."

"You fight all the time against people who want to hurt you," her maman said.

"I know," Marinette said, "but if I don't do this, then everyone else will get hurt."

"But why does it have to be you," her maman said. "You're only fourteen; you should be worrying about boys and school."

"As it is, just how many times have you been late for school or forgotten homework because of an akuma?"

"I mean, isn't Ladybug saving everyone more important than, oh, grammar?"

"But why does Ladybug have to be you?"

When her parents think she is asleep, Marinette asks Tikki this question.

Everyone started clapping when Marinette entered the classroom.

Almost everyone. Alya sat in the back of the room, head buried in her arms.

Marinette does not sit behind Adrien, who looks at her like she is a goddess. He probably had a crush on Ladybug, and now that he knows who Ladybug is he has hopefully transferred his crush to Marinette.

Marinette goes to the back of the room. "Can I sit here?" she asks.

Alya looks up, and she has none of the exuberance she had from when the akuma was purified. She knows what she has done, not because she remembers but because everyone recorded the broadcast where Ladybug was unmasks. Alya now knows the consequences of her goal.

"Sure," she says. "I'll, I'll go if you want."

"No, stay. Last night, it wasn't your fault."

She thinks she sees a black butterfly resting on the window. Waiting. Spying.

There is paparazzi waiting outside the school.

"Ladybug!" one of them shouts. "Can you tell us about your plans to defeat Hawk Moth?"

Marinette freezes. A hand grabs her wrist.

"I am the daughter of the mayor of Paris! Let us through!" Chloe says, dragging Marinette through the parting crowd.

"Thank you," Marinette says. Chloe sniffs.

"I'm not doing this because I li-" Chloe looks down. "Look, this isn't because, this isn't because..."

Marinette has never seen Chloe stammer or blush before. She is doing both.

"This is a thank-you for saving me before!" Chloe insists far too quickly. "Honestly, do you only have a backbone when you're Ladybug?"

The jab feels like a cover-up for something Marinette cannot place, but she appreciates the change in attitude anyways. Out of the corner of her eye, she watches a black-and-purple butterfly fly away. She gets the feeling she won't be able to do her homework.

She gets the feeling that she was the intended target.

Chat holds out his fist for a "Pound It!" when they defeat Chambrecho half an hour later. For someone who sent their attacks back at them, he was a surprisingly easy akuma to defeat.

Ladybug's fistbump is half-hearted. "Chat, can we talk? Privately?"

"Sure," Chat says. They duck away to a secluded area. He didn't use his cataclysm, so he doesn't need to worry about his identity.

"Is this about last night?" he asks.

"I, yeah," she says. "Chat, that black butterfly was meant for me."

"Are you sure?" he asks.

"Yeah. It's been following me all morning. I, Chat, you're a really great partner, but I can't be your partner anymore."

His jaw drops.

"I've already talked to my kwami, and she says a new Ladybug can be found. I... Chat, I don't want to give up my earrings. They, and my kwami, and I guess you too, they've helped me develop my confidence so much. I'm scared I'll go back to the scared little girl I was before I became Ladybug, but only Ladybug can purify an akuma. If I get akumatized, it's over."

"I, I doubt that will happen. Tell you what, I can show you my identity and maybe you won't be so scared anymore. I, you're like, one of the closest people in the world to me, and I don't want to lose you."

"Chat, you don't get it! I'm dangerous, now. I'll try to stay positive, but all I need is one bad day. One bad day, and Hawk Moth will akumatize me, and I will give him my earrings if I still have them. Don't make it easier for me to give him your ring."

She takes a deep breath. "I'm not asking for your permission, I just don't want to leave you without a word because you're important to me, and I wanted to tell you that, you know the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie?" He nods. "I live there. Feel free to stop by."

She hugs him, and doesn't comment as he starts to cry.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Tikki asks. She had given Marinette instructions on where to go, questioning her every step of the way.

"I... yes." That was a lie, and Marinette hates liars, but the truth was complicated. The truth is that no, she doesn't want to do this, but for the sake of Paris she needs to. Marinette pulls out the box her earrings first came in.

"Okay," Tikki says, and she phases through the wall of a... massage parlor? A few minutes later, she comes back. "Okay, we're ready. Marinette, you've been the best Ladybug I've had."

Marinette sniffles. "Thank you, Tikki. I'm going to miss you."

She takes out her earrings and places them in the box. She places the box in front of the door, and she walks away. She pulls her hair out of her pigtails.

"You don't have to worry about me being Ladybug anymore," she says to her parents before she goes to her room.

Only then does she allow herself to weep.

Alya texts her the day after Marinette gives up her earrings.

Hey, can I come over?

They don't have school that day.

Of course, is Marinette's response.

"Hey," Alya says, and she is quiet. She has been this way ever since yesterday. "So, um, I'm thinking about taking down the LadyBlog."

"Why?" Marinette asks.

"I... revealing your identity wasn't the right choice, was it? And, like, in all the superhero comics and stuff, the identity reveal makes things worse for the hero, and I wasn't thinking about how it'd affect Ladybug, well, you, I was just thinking of how it could make me a good reporter and -"

Marinette tucks her hair behind her ears. Alya gasps.

"I mean, you're right. The identity reveal makes it harder for the hero, but anyone could wear the earrings."

"Who's the new... I shouldn't ask that, should I?"

Marinette shakes her head. "No, you shouldn't. However, I don't know who the new Ladybug is, but for what it's worth, I hope it's you. I mean, I tried to give you the earrings once already."

It's been two days since Marinette gave up her earrings, and one of the girls from Ms. Mendeliev's class has been akumatized. She wears armor the color of cast iron with spinning blades for hands and a gold visor.

"So, what's your name? Edwardia SawHands?" Chat asks. He catches Marinette's eye, and taps a finger to his human earlobe.

"It's DarkSaw!" the akuma screeches. Marinette shakes her head at Chat.

"Hey, aren't you going to do something?" Kim asks.

"If you need help getting to the bathroom so you can change into your costume I can help," Chloe says as she inspects her nails.

Marinette looks to Alya. Alya gives her a sad smile and tucks a stray lock of hair over her ear. There is no earring.

DarkSaw lunges for Chat. The yo-yo that knocks away her hand is a darker red than usual.

Marinette looks up and pulls her hair into a single ponytail, revealing her ears. "I'm not the one who's going to save you."

A girl jumps from the second story balcony. She has long black hair pulled into a low ponytail with bangs that fall over her left eye. The ends are dyed a darker red than her right eye. She wears a wine-colored sleeveless high-collared dress with boots, arm warmers, and fingerless gloves. Under the dress is a sheer spotted dark red skirt, and under that is a polka-dotted mesh leotard that covers everything not covered by the rest of her outfit. Her mask has a large black spot over her eye. The girl looks at Marinette, as if looking for approval. Marinette smiles at her. The girl's burgundy lips curl into a shy smile. Marinette turns to her classmates.

"She is."

"Three, two, one, action!" Alya calls from behind the camera after school. They had been planning this ever since Marinette had told Alya that she hoped that she would be the next one to get the earrings. They had two separate versions, and if Alya had been the next bug then this would have been the last LadyBlog entry, so that no one would question why Alya was no longer posting. It would have been one where Alya apologized to Paris and to Ladybug, and would have proclaimed that she didn't want to continue out of guilt.

In this way, Marinette is thankful that Alya did not receive the earrings.

"Hello, Paris!" Marinette says, trying to be as cheerful and confident as possible. "If you watched the broadcast from a couple nights ago, you know that I'm Ladybug. Or, rather, I was. Because my identity was compromised, I gave up my earrings. There's now a new hero wearing them; her name is Chilocorus and she debuted today at Collège Françoise Dupont."

Marinette gets the feeling that Alya would cut the video so that there would be video footage of the new hero between Marinette's speech.

"Alya will be repurposing the LadyBlog to focus on helping the citizens of Paris instead of trying to unmask its heroes. It's still under development, but she's going to set up an akuma tracker.

"And if you're watching this, Hawk Moth?" Marinette let her face settle into a glare. "Fine. You won the battle against me. But in the end, it'll be Chat Noir and Chilocorus standing victorious over you. And I can't wait for you to beg for their mercy."

That night, someone knocks on her trap door.

"Fancy seeing you here, Chat," she says. "Now, what would my parents say about you showing up on my rooftop in the middle of the night?"

He gives her a bright red rose. "That I'm being a purrfect gentlecat."

She laughs and takes it. "Well then, if you mind your manners I'm sure you can stay and talk, but I've got school tomorrow kitty so it can't be too long."

"What do you think of Chilocorus?"

"She's definitely fancier than me," Marinette says. "Or at least, she's more of an eager romantic about the idea of being a superhero. I can't say I was too big on the idea, because I could've definitely come up with better costume ideas than that spotted leotard I wore."

"She's a novice," Chat complains.

"So was I."

"I know, but couldn't you have kept your earrings?"

"It's for the best, Chat. Just because you have a new partner doesn't mean we can't stop being friends."

He sighs. "Hey, what smells so good?"

"The cookies downstairs."

"Could I have one?"

Adrien, Rose, and Juleka are nowhere to be found when they are supposed to take the school photo.

Juleka said she panicked.

Rose said she got the feeling that Juleka's anxiety was acting up and had tried to find her friend.

Adrien had managed gotten his foot stuck in a trashcan, somehow, and he hadn't thought to ask anyone for help.

In unrelated news, the Akuma Tracker said that La France pittoresque had been terrorized by an akuma known as Red Herring at the same time as the school photos.

Marinette doesn't allow herself to think about the possibilities.

Marinette fails her math quiz. She balls it up, and a black butterfly lands on it.

"Hello, former Ladybug," Hawk Moth says, voice smug.

"Oh, shut up," Marinette says. She throws out her math quiz.

Twenty minutes later, there is an akuma attack. Marinette's parents are thankful that she's home.

There is a knock on her roof.

Marinette grumbles and places her textbook down. She has a test tomorrow. A big one. She can't afford a bad grade on it, not after her math quiz. "Just a minute, you mangy-"

A red eye peeks out under black-and-red bangs.

"Oh," Marinette says. She blinks once, twice, to make sure she's really seeing her successor. She mentally stomps all over the hope that her, no the earrings are being given back. Marinette has made her choice and she must live with it. "Hi, Chilocorus. Something wrong?"

"Can I ask you for some advice?" she asks.

"Sure. Is Chat still being cold to you? I can tell him to quit it... again, if I need to."

"No, it's... Chat Noir has warmed up to me, mostly. I don't think he's ever going to like me as much as you, nor in the same way, but I'm more than okay with that. Just... how did you handle it all? I don't know what I'm doing with the Lucky Charm half the time, and I don't know how to balance being a superhero with my regular life."

"Yeah, that takes some getting used to. One moment." Marinette runs downstairs, and grabs some of the cookies that she is allowed to take from the bakery. "Give these to Tikki for me? Now, something that helps with balancing things is doing homework while on a stake-out."

Everyone expects more of Marinette. She was able to barely handle the stacked responsibilities when she led a double life. Surely more responsibilities can be handled because she is no longer Ladybug.

It's very frustrating, and one day she raises her voice at her parents before slamming the door as she stomped off to her room.

"I'll make you a deal," Hawk Moth says after a black butterfly lands on Marinette's pencil. "After I use them to get what I need, you can have your earrings back."

"And what do you need?" Marinette asks. Hopefully she will remember enough to pass it on to Chat or Chilocorus.

"First, I need you to get me Chilocorus and Chat Noir's Miraculous."

This isn't one of her good pencils, so Marinette snaps it. The black butterfly flies away to akumatize someone else.

Marinette thinks things are going well. Chloe is being oddly nice, to everyone, but especially to Marinette. She can hold full conversations with Adrien. She, Alya, Chilocorus, and Chat Noir are able to coordinate plans.

Marinette misses Tikki, though. She misses the feelings of freedom and confidence that being Ladybug gave her. Without being a hero, it's a bit harder to keep up her cheerful demeanor and inspiring attitude.

Marinette sees the black butterfly, and she is so very tired. Thankfully, she has the Ladyblog open, and in a final moment of clarity she types two words.

The butterfly lands on her right hair tie.

"Don't even give me the speech," Marinette says as a pink glowing mask forms in front of her face. "I don't care anymore."

The first herald of Miss Fortune was not the small black, white, and red beetles descending upon Paris like a swarm of locusts. It wasn't even the girl in a black-and-white spotted suit, with a single red ribbon in her hair.

It was two words from one Marinette Dupain-Cheng, former Ladybug, on comments of the Akuma Tracker portion of the Ladyblog.

SAVE ME

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #alya cesaire #marichat #juleka couffaine #chloe bourgeois #ladybug!juleka #akuma!marinette #akuma!ladybug #miss fortune #hawk moth #my writing

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applesdrowned-a · 4 years

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PRIDE EDITION !

as promised here are some pride headcanons . the questions are from an image i found ( revised for rp purposes ) , feel free to use for your own hcs !

1. what is your muses sexuality ? : chad is a homoromantic demi-homosexual !

2. what gender does your muse identify as ? : cismale.

3. how long have they been aware of their sexuality and or gender ? : chad knew he was gay pretty much his entire life. he never had to think about it. he just knew "yeah i like boys" and that was that. he got kicked out of private school at age 10 for hospitalizing one of his bullies who called him a gay slur

4. do they have any preferences ? : not sure what this is asking, i assume it means gender preference ? but since my muse is gay it doesn't apply.

5. share a positive memory of your muse coming out : chad came out to his brother and sister when he was ten. his parents found out chad was being called gay slurs at school after he hospitalized his bully. it was only fair he told his siblings. his sister took a while to wrap her head around the concept being younger, but she just wanted chad happy. his older brother was also extremely accepting of his brothers sexual identity. chad became even closer to his siblings that day.

6. how do they feel about pride month ? : chad loves pride month and is super obnoxious about celebrating it. he suppressed his sexuality throughout high school to avoid ridicule so like once he got away from that and felt more comfortable in his own skin. he is not shy about letting people know he is very happy to be gay.

7. do they participate in pride related events / any other events ? : my boy loves pride events. he went to his first pride parade in los angeles in university with his third boyfriend ( they were friends still at the time ) luca russo. chad wore the flag face paint and carried his little flag around. he was in awe of the festivities. he never had the guts to go to a parade before alone.

since then chad has attended pride every year. even if he was single at the time. he does not miss a chance to embrace his identity.

8. how does your muse feel about lgbtq+ roles in media ? : seeing his community represented in media is very important to chad. as long as its done respectfully he is always happy to see queer folk in tv and movies. and like pretty much every person in the community, he hates queer baiting with a passion. the second he sniffs it chad will stop watching the program. he can tell the difference between that and slow burn.

9. do they feel pride in who they are ? : chad struggled with his sexuality for a long time in fear of facing ridicule. it wasn't until he finally left home did he really embrace who he was. there was no reason to hide it anymore. in his adult life chad very much has pride for his sexuality and his community.

hes heard stories from people in the past who wish they were different if only to stop the abuse. but chad has never wanted to be anyone else then the gay man he is. if given the chance he will provide a confidence booster in this regard. born this way by lady gaga is a huge inspiration for him. ( yes i know it came out after he canonly died but on this blog we say fuck canon ) but lets clear the room, well chad is not insecure about his sexuality, he is overall stupidly insecure otherwise.

10. who has been your muses supportive idol in their self discovery ? : as chad didn't really have to struggle with finding his sexuality he never found reason to admire anyone. he does however look up to anyone who is comfortable with their identity and or a positive influence for the lgbtq+ community.

11. who was your muses first crush ? : chad was twelve when he started crushing on a boy in his history class. it wasn't anything more then wanting to hold his hand and sit next to him and smile. it was a fleeting fancy that chad got over in a short time. chad would often get soft feelings inside his chest for boys that would even simply smile at him. but he once again would always suppress his desire for boys, never allowing himself to actually ask one out.

12. what advice does your muse have for lgbtq+ teens ? : if chad could go back and do it all again, he likely wouldn't have repressed himself. he would tell any teen in the community to never be afraid of who they are, if people didn't accept them then fuck those people. you are born who you are, and the real ones will love you for it.

13. has your muse come out to friends and family ? : yes he has. his parents and siblings know. ( see five ) chad never had friends really so there was no need to come out. most people who meet him in his college life onward, could just tell he was gay.

14. how does your muse feel about the phrase "coming out" ? : chad sees this as letting your colours show. before you were kinda black & white like everyone else, the same, uniform. but then you let your colours come out & were seen as different.

15. do they believe there is a closet to come out of ? : yes. the closet in his opinion is something you hide in until you feel safe to emerge. like if someone broke into your house, you hide until the danger has past. for some the danger might never pass, but if they stay in the closet forever they won’t have a chance to really live. sure they be alive but you won’t be living your life. being in the closet is safest, but its not really living.

16. what's your muses biggest pet peeve when it comes to lgbtq+ characterization in media ? : harmful stereotypes. mostly because as a gay man chad can attest to certain things being common, and he knows he doesn't fit into a lot of those commonalities. particularly where sex is concerned. so it makes him a wee bit insecure.

17. what's their favourite part when it comes to lgbtq+ characterization in media ? : finding someone he can relate too. he likes when gay men are portrayed for more reason then to be a token gay character. he likes a story with an actual backbone. something real.

18. do they practice safe sex with the same gender ? : yes and no. he is very adamant about both parties being safe and comfortable but chad for most of his sexual career was a sub/bottom. he took it rather than gave it. his first boyfriend didn't like condoms, and chad being naive and fearful of him didn't ask him to wear one. the fact his boyfriend was uncovered was not what was making him the most uncomfortable so it wasn't really on his mind.

his following sexual relationship with boyfriend three fell into a similar pattern. chad didn't give he took, and when he gave there was no coverage. since they were exclusive neither saw a need for protection. chad didn't see an issue with it.

boyfriend four insisted on wearing one most of the time, but since chad never penetrated him he never had to wear one.

patrick didn't give a fuck, a reason why chad insisted patrick wear a condom in the beginning of halloween part 1 cause he was worried about disease. in fact i hc they were unprotected until chad suspected cheating and got his boyfriend to cover up. although pat never asked chad too.

tldr; chad has little experience with protective sex but will always want to make things as safe as possible for his partner. so boy will wear the condom if asked.

19. what are their turn offs with the same gender ? what are their turn ons : turn ons are older men of authority. chad is very dominant in personality, but also has an extreme submissive side that can come out with the right partner. this part that longs to be taken care of is what attracts him to men in control. he also likes a man who knows what he wants, and has some culture behind him. ( talk dirty to him in another language and he will melt ) oh and praise is another huge turn on, he loves validation

turn offs are pain. he doesn't like it. anything hardcore BDSM will have him running for the hills. no S&M. and anything demeaning, don't call him slut, whore etc. it makes him uncomfy. in terms of actual personality traits from men, anyone that acts like his first boyfriend ( leather biker, hot shot type ) will have him nopping out.

20. how does your muse feel about lgbtq+ clubs/apps/websites ? : this is a grey area for him as he is certainly in support of gay web content, its how its used that effects him. like, his experience with connecting with the community in any kind is limited to a general kink website which his boyfriend used to chest on him. so his feelings around that are a little uncomfortable.

21. how do they feel about the term "queer" ? : chad has no issues with this word. he doesn't have anything deeper to say about it, other than it sounds close to queen in his opinion and he wears that label proud.

22. what tips would they give to heterosexual/cisgendered people looking to better understand the community and news surrounding it ? : chad would tell them to be open minded and not look at it with bias. forget about the hetronormative society you live in and just be open to another view.

23. whats the most annoying question your muse has ever gotten for being lgbtq+ ? : the most annoying question chad gets is when people ask who is the woman in the relationship. it really grinds his gears as something like that implies either he or his partner isn't a real man. it also makes him insecure as he is neither a masculine or effeminate gay. hes kinda of in between and it really rubs people the wrong way sometimes. because they expect him to act a certain way.

he acts gay, but hes more gay, and less gay depending on what people are seeing. so when people ask him if hes the man or the woman it brings out his rage over the fact that thats a homophobic af comment, and also his dilemma on what type of gay he is.

24. how do they feel about receiving questions about their sexuality and or gender ? : chad is overall not a super friendly person. i mean he can be, but his second language is bitch so be careful lol. so it really depends on who is asking and what they are asking. if a stranger is asking dumb shit he won't be inclined to give more than a "fuck off" but if someone he knows has some curiosities he wouldn't mind, depending on how invasive it is.

#🍏 * / everything is blue his pills his hands his jeans / headcanon

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leilas-digital-scrapbook-blog · 6 years

Text

Giving Love a Bad Name – Confessions of a Fanfiction Writer

I know we’re supposed to blog about our major projects this week and I promise I will get to that soon, but I’d like to go off book for a moment to address something that’s been bugging me since last Thursday’s class. As someone who’s always tried to engage with fandom in as creative a way as possible, I hoped a class on user generated content would offer a fresher perspective than the usual amount of prejudice and self-righteous superiority that sadly seem to accompany the subject of fanfiction even amongst people that make stories and their passion for it their bread and butter.

Guess I should have known better.

In the world of professional writers, fanfiction is still a filthy word. It sums up everything that’s wrong with the people you’re sharing your stories with: the obsessiveness, the entitlement, the disregard for boundaries, the penchant for making everything about sex. Worse, gay sex, as unspeakably dirty as it’s hilarious. Be warned, writers: if you make it big, your stories will inevitably become a free-for-all at the mercy of those people. A worse fate than even George R. R. Martin could wish on his own characters.

I’m used to seeing the world of fanfiction belittled and disparaged, of course, and I’m the first to admit that the community is often its own worst enemy. But for some reason it still hurt a little to sit in class and listen to people I’ve come to like and respect during these past few months buy into every bad stereotype associated with the form. Not because I felt called out (though yes, I do write fanfiction from time to time, and I happen to quite enjoy reading it too), but because of the underlying assumptions that 1. something that’s not 100% original cannot be art, it’s a violence in fact, especially if it twists someone else’s creation into something it was never meant to be (in this case, queer representation); and 2. there’s something wrong with creating exclusively out of love, without ever expecting to be paid for it. And I have Strong Opinions on that.

So let’s talk about fanfiction.

Actually, scratch that, let’s talk about my favorite subject – yours truly. As you may have gathered by now, I love fanfiction. A whole fangirly lot. My gateway drug into it was my obsession with Lost about 10 years ago and its pesky habit of offing every character I was foolish enough to get attached to. But lo! Someone was keeping them alive through their stories! I felt blessed. I got to spend more time in a world I loved, and I stopped flirting with the idea of giving up on the show every time another character I liked bit the dust. Everybody won.

Even more than as a fan, though, I appreciated the world of possibilities that fanfiction opened up to me as a non-native speaker. I come from a small town in the north of Italy; the access I had to foreign books in their original language was limited, and if I wanted to read something in English I’d have to spend quite a lot of money on one of the very few novels (usually chunky airport bookshop thrillers or housewife romances – not exactly my preferred genres) that shared a single shelf in the bookstore with German, French, Spanish titles. But fanfiction was free, accessible, and there was so much of it. If I didn’t like a story, all I needed to do was move on to the next. Suddenly there was an infinite library of engaging stories to help me make my English better. True, they didn’t all read like a published novel would – there’s a lot of unpolished, error-plagued, stream-of-consciousness-y material out there. But there are also so, so many beautifully written works, and believe me, even for a non-native speaker it’s very easy to spot the difference.

Fanfiction also gave me the chance and motivation to practice my English writing in a way school never could have done. I’ve been writing my own stories since I could hold a pen, but I didn’t dare write in English until I was a fanfiction-loving teenager. It was a marketing decision, really – my first foray into writing fanfiction was for a fandom so small that I wouldn’t be surprised to find out I’m the only Italian representative, so if I wanted any kind of feedback on my work I’d have to suck it up and try my hand at writing in a language that didn’t come natural to me. I would never argue that the feedback I got on my works made me a better writer – contrary to popular opinion, the fanfiction community is made up of the nicest, most supportive people, and alas, you’ll never get a comment on everything you did wrong with your structure or even just pointing out common grammar mistakes from them (though I was lucky enough to have someone explain to me how dialogue punctuation works differently in English than in Italian, so I guess something can be learned even from the Internet). It did motivate me to keep writing, though, and that made me a better writer. If you think I’m being too dramatic, dishing out this monster of a post nobody asked for just to declare my eternal devotion to fanfiction, it’s because it’s personal to me. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve been told that I write in English as well as native speakers, and fanfiction is a big part of why that’s true. I doubt I would even be in this course if it wasn’t for it.

And then, of course, there’s the gay thing. I’m not going to argue about how heteronormativity sucks and representation matters because I’m sure everyone’s as sick of talking about it as I am, but please try to understand how it felt for a gay person like me, used to be depicted in media as a plot device or token secondary-character representation if at all, to be able to step into a world where queerness was the default for once. Where queer protagonists had meaningful queer love stories and queer friends and got to save the world from the Apocalypse too. Or to fight the Empire or go to Hogwarts or everything else fictional straight people have had a right to do since the dawn of storytelling in addition to romancing the hottie of their choice. I’m not asking you to feel as passionately about it, of course, but (especially if you’re straight) you might try and empathize the next time you think a fanart of two boys kissing is something deserving of your amused contempt.

I hope I’m not coming across as the person that screams “homophobe” at everyone who disagrees with her because I guarantee that’s not what I’m trying to do here, but I think the general distaste for slash says a lot about the way our society sees heterosexual relationships as love and homosexual relationships as sex. Yes, there’s a lot of gay porn in the world of fanfiction. But you know what you’re most likely to find? Romance. Not in the saucy literary sense of the word, but in its simpler, most literal acceptation. Fanfiction is just one more way for humans to express themselves, after all, and love has always been front and center in our art. Love, not sex – even if it’s gay. In fact, explicit material doesn’t even make up the majority of what you’ll find on a fanfiction website. Don’t worry, I don’t want anyone to taint their souls by visiting one of those dens of iniquity so I pulled some stats myself. Here’s the number of works for each rating in three of the most popular fandoms on Archive Of Our Own, the current go-to website for the fanfiction community (sorry Fanfiction.net) – Harry Potter, Supernatural and the Marvel Cinematic Universe as of 9/3/2019:

Even counting both Mature and Explicit works as straight-up porn (which I don’t think is quite fair, but that’s a discussion for another day), they only make up less than 1/3 of the material. Kinda disappointing, for a medium that’s supposed to be all about filthy graphic gay sex. Imagine if only one in three musicals actually featured singing and dancing, or superheroes weren’t in the majority of superhero movies. They’re lucky fanfiction is shared for free, or I’d be screaming for my money back.

Maybe I’ve just been brainwashed by SJWs, though, and this has nothing to do with my being an immigrant or a lesbian. Maybe my inability to see what’s so bad about appropriating someone else’s intellectual property for your own amusement is a cultural thing. I apologize – as mentioned, I’m Italian, and we all know Ancient Roman culture was basically just a ripoff of everything those inventive Greeks came up with. It’s in our blood. Hell, our 2€ coin, the biggest, has the face of Dante Alighieri on it, a writer most famous for having written 14.000+ verses of self-insert real-person-fic in which the girl he fancied as a teenager, his favorite author, and God himself all fall over themselves to tell him how awesome he is and he gets to prophesy an eternity in Hell for his political enemies. Talk about wish-fulfilling entitlement. Not to mention all those creatively arid Renaissance “artists” celebrated for stealing characters from the Bible and Greek mythology (seriously, the fact that Greece hasn’t unleashed an army of lawyers on us yet is nothing short of a miracle) and putting them in their cheesy paintings. Other countries can rely on a much stronger moral backbone and endless imagination – I’m sure Shakespeare, Milton, Goethe, those creative geniuses at Disney and countless others never had to resort to something as cheap and despicable as borrowing other people’s characters to tell the stories they wanted to tell.

Either way, I can’t help it – I see the prospect of creating something that will resonate with people so strongly that they’ll make it a part of themselves, that it’ll compel them to make more art, to reach out and connect with other fans, as something incredibly beautiful rather than scary. Maybe this is my usual naiveté speaking, and I will come to eat my words. It’s certainly disturbing that a bunch of entitled fans bullied the Mass Effect developers into changing the series’ ending, and sending actors explicit fanart of themselves is straight-up harassment, but is fanfiction really the problem here? Or is it social network culture, with its power to destroy all barriers and foster hive mind? To give resentment a platform to spread and be heard? I promise that the average fanfiction writer wouldn’t campaign to get an ending changed. They’d just roll up their sleeves and write a better one themselves.

#my thoughts #aka leila goes off about her life story #user generated content #fanfiction #fandom #tmi alert

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samstiels-deactivated20201212 · 5 years

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This is a really good article. Idk how much people know about Cogman, but he wrote the episode where Sansa was raped, and was immediately chased off all social media by angry fans. There is an incredible paragraph explaining his reasonings for the scene, and Sophie Turner’s as well. Cogman also wrote most of Jaime x Brienne scenes, and was the driving force behind most of the actual plot that makes sense, including Brienne being knighted.

Vanity Fair gives 3 free articles per month, then requires a subscription, so you’ll find the whole article under the cut.

Before the cast and crew of Game of Thrones threw themselves into their final season of grueling night shoots, dragon rides, and death scenes, they gathered in Belfast for one last table read. It was the largest group ever assembled for such an occasion, all crammed in around a massive conference table made from the soaring gates of the show's lavish Season Two city of Qarth. HBO executives and trusted friends of the show lined the edges of the room as, over two days, everyone finally learned how the saga of Westeros would end.

Kit Harington had tears streaming down his face; Liam Cunningham, who played the salty Ser Davos, was cursing a blue streak. Halfway through the read, Nikolaj Coster-Waldau reached out to squeeze the shoulder of co-executive producer Bryan Cogman, who had started trembling as the body count on the page started to rise. In the end it was Cogman—who had read out every stage direction at every table read since the first in 2009—who had the final word that day: “End of Game of Thrones.” More than a year later, Sophie Turner still isn't over it. “That motherfucker,” she says with a laugh.

“It was a lovefest,” Cogman says of that table read, when the often brutal conditions of shooting seemed a world away. “And then we went and made the show and wanted to kill each other 11 months later.”

Turner, who began playing Sansa Stark when she was 13, says Cogman is the backbone of Game of Thrones. Coster-Waldau, who played Jaime Lannister, refers to him as the “walking encyclopedia.” But George R. R. Martin, who wrote the books that show-runners David Benioff and D. B. Weiss adapted into what may be the last universally agreed-upon hit TV show, leans on his own Westerosi mythology to pay the highest compliment: “Dave and Dan—even though there were two of them, there really needed to be three. Bryan was the third head of the dragon.”

Hired as Weiss and Benioff's assistant when Game of Thrones first began production, Cogman wrote 11 episodes of the series—second only to the show-runners and more than Martin himself—and as a producer has three Emmy Awards for Outstanding Drama Series displayed in his living room. Martin personally asked Cogman to pitch a Thrones prequel series to HBO; when the network passed, he moved on to a deal at Amazon Studios, where, to borrow another phrase from Martin's books, he can cast a very large shadow of his own on this post-Thrones universe.

“You're only number two on the biggest show of all time once,” Cogman says, aware that Thrones-sized success may be a thing of the past for television as a whole. “So what do you want to do with that opportunity when the show ends? You try to see if you can tell your own stories.”

More than 10 years ago, Weiss and Benioff had finally convinced both HBO and Martin that they were the right pick to turn Game of Thrones into what they called “The Sopranos meets Middle-earth.” But they had a problem: neither of them knew the first thing about TV. Luckily, Benioff knew someone who did—his nanny's husband.

Once just another Juilliard-trained actor struggling to make it in Hollywood, Cogman first caught Benioff's eye with a script about, well, struggling actors trying to make it in Hollywood. Fed up with jobs that include a telemarketing gig in the Valley selling toner cartridges—a job that theater nerd Cogman describes as “like Glengarry Glen Ross, but worse”—and with watching former classmates like Lee Pace and Anthony Mackie smile down at him from 14-foot billboards, the then 28-year-old Cogman was attempting to re-write his way out of a familiar story of Hollywood despair.

Benioff, best known at the time for well-received novels such as the one he adapted into the 2002 Spike Lee movie 25th Hour, liked what he saw but didn't have a job for Cogman yet. So he called in a favor to his childhood friend NBC Entertainment co-chairman Ben Silverman and landed Cogman a job as the executive's assistant (there were two others) and driver. Cogman nearly wrecked Silverman's car on his second night behind the wheel.

“You're a terrible driver,” Cogman recalls Silverman saying, “but I like hanging out with you.” Perhaps in an attempt to protect the paint on his other cars, Silverman eventually got his driver a writers'-assistant job, fetching coffee and the like, on an NBC show: My Own Worst Enemy, which ended after just two months, in December 2008.

However short-lived, the show was an education for Cogman in the basics of breaking a story for television. When Weiss and Benioff snapped up Cogman as their own assistant, they set up shop in a dingy suite of now demolished offices on the former Pickford-Fairbanks Studios lot and asked the guy who thought he was just there to fetch lunches where they should start.

“I got my marker and David sat in his chair and Dan sat in his,” Cogman remembers. Without any other staff hired, the three of them went to work figuring out how to introduce TV audiences to the scheming Lannisters, the honorable Starks, the looming Wall, Daenerys Targaryen and her three baby dragons. “None of us knew really what we were doing. No one was really bothering us or telling us we were doing it wrong. We cooked up Season One, the three of us in that room in the winter and early spring of 2009.”

Cogman still likes to joke that the only reason he got the job is because Benioff—who was about to set off to Europe with his wife, actor Amanda Peet—wanted to hold on to the excellent child care provided by Cogman's wife, actor Mandy Olsen. “That backfired! As soon as I became a TV writer, she quit,” Cogman says, laughing. “Joke's on you, Benioff!”

Tipped off by his wife to Benioff's early interest in the books, Cogman had read the “A Song of Ice and Fire” series in the hope of a small role in the show—“Maybe I'll get to play a guy with a spear!” By the time he was in the room with Weiss and Benioff, Cogman had started re-reading—he estimates he's read the first book, A Game of Thrones, at least 20 times now—and boiling down the dense and complicated world of Westeros into digestible outlines, family trees, and quick little summaries. “We thought we knew the books pretty well, but Bryan was just on a different level,” Weiss and Benioff wrote in a joint e-mail. That work landed Cogman a seat in every meeting and was a godsend to every confused HBO executive, director, production designer, and actor.

The show-runners quickly deviated from the Hollywood norm of treating their assistant like a glorified errand boy; while working on Season One, they surprised Cogman with an offer to write his own episode, “Cripples, Bastards, and Broken Things.” As Weiss and Benioff recalled, “We'd never written a season of television before, and we'd underestimated how long it would take. Then we looked across the room and there was Bryan. Smart, tireless, passionate Bryan. Sure, he wasn't experienced, but hell, neither were we.”

Martin's review of Cogman's work was straightforward: “An excellent episode! Straight from my books!”

Weiss and Benioff dubbed Cogman “lore master”; Gwendoline Christie, who played Brienne of Tarth, jokes, “I have never once seen Bryan with George R. R. Martin, and the rumor is that they could be the same person.” Martin, for his part, likens Cogman to the helpful and well-read character Samwell Tarly, a comparison the author usually reserves for himself. As the series grew bigger and Martin repeatedly delayed the release of his final books in the series, the author grew noticeably distant from the show, with no writing credits after Season Four and no recent appearances at the splashy premiere events until the final one, in April. Responding on his LiveJournal to a controversial Season Five scene that differed dramatically from the books, Martin described the show and his work as “two roads diverging in the dark of the woods, I suppose … but all of us are still intending that at the end we will arrive at the same place.”

Martin hasn't commented much on his relationship with HBO and the series, but he is unreserved in his praise for Cogman: “I feel simpatico with Bryan,” Martin says. “He's helped keep the show true to my books, and the characters true to the characters I created, which may not be important to everybody in the world, but is certainly important to me.”

In the beginning Cogman clung doggedly to some less essential parts of the books. (He's now mortified to recount a fight he picked over cutting a minor Season One character named Marillion. “Nearly in tears! Over Marillion! And I was the fucking assistant.”) But he also used his book knowledge to suggest killing off Ned Stark in the ninth episode of the first season, rather than saving it for the finale, a shock that went on to define the high stakes of the series. Cogman, a lifelong student of drama, knows how differently stories can play when acted out. So while others may compare Cogman to Samwell Tarly, he favors another character: Varys, the slick spymaster who uses political maneuvers and access to the most powerful players to keep himself in the game. Or, at least, he says, “I'm the good parts of Varys.”

From the very start Cogman homed in on the basic character details that made Thrones a success beyond its spectacle. “It's about one buddy going back to his old buddy's house for dinner,” he says, describing the simple power of the pilot. “If you don't have that, then you have a lot of other imitators that have come along since and haven't been as good.”

Production on Game of Thrones was massive from the start, and Weiss and Benioff quickly put Cogman in charge of some pivotal scenes at the end of Season One, featuring Peter Dinklage's Tyrion Lannister and his scathing father, Tywin Lannister, played by Charles Dance. Cogman, who claims he didn't know any better, wielded so much authority that director Alan Taylor just assumed he was a producer. “Why the hell have I been taking orders from you the past few months?” Cogman recalls Taylor joking when he discovered the truth.

The show sprawled after Season One, with at least two units—named the Dragon and the Wolf—shooting simultaneously. Weiss and Benioff leveraged their titles to take charge of the sets in exotic and temperate Spain, Croatia, and Morocco, leaving Cogman as their man on the ground in Belfast, where the show filmed the bulk of its interior scenes.

In Belfast, Cogman worked on behalf of Weiss and Benioff as fastidious keeper of the script, earning the nickname “Shakespeare” from Dance when he insisted that a line be read word for word. As a former actor, Cogman developed a reputation as an actor's writer. “He gets the life of an actor,” Coster-Waldau explains. “He's extremely respectful when it comes to not getting in your way.” Adds Turner, “Bryan's lines are always the ones that affect me the most.”

When it came time to divvy up who would actually write each episode, Weiss and Benioff preferred season premieres, finales, and the big, splashy set pieces in between.

Cogman, on the other hand, preferred the performance episodes, full of scenes, he says, of “people talking in rooms.” He wrote the two key moments of the Jaime and Brienne love story, from the Season Three bathtub scene in “Kissed by Fire” to the emotional Season Eight climax “A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms,” which sees the former Lannister antihero knighting the unlikely lady warrior. These quiet, shared moments stood out among all the dragon fire, shocking deaths, and big-budget battle spectacle.

“He has been a champion of my character Brienne and actually of me as an actor,” Christie says. “He had a real understanding of the trials the character had to overcome in order to achieve a sense of self-worth and how far we sometimes have to travel to move the narrative society has prescribed to us.”

“I can't imagine what it would have been like without Bryan,” Coster-Waldau says. “Thank God I don't have to.”

In Season Five Cogman volunteered to write what would become one of the show's most controversial episodes, in which the sadistic Ramsay Bolton rapes Sansa Stark, with Theon Greyjoy looking on in horror. Cogman, a father of three, had always taken a particular interest in protecting the show's younger performers on set. Turner compares him to a father figure, and Cogman felt he owed it to her to write the episode himself. “Why the hell did I choose ‘Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken’?” Cogman asks years later, then responding, “Good question.”

The scene was lifted from another character's story in the books and incorporated into a larger gothic nightmare plot of Sansa's being held prisoner in her childhood home at Winterfell—a practical, and carefully considered, way to give Sansa, who isn't in the fifth book at all, a bigger role in the story. Weiss and Benioff suggested closing the bedroom door on Sansa, Ramsay, and Theon rather than showing the act itself. “I am the one, God help me,” Cogman says, “who said, ‘If we do this are we being dismissive of what that real horror would be behind that door? Are we being disrespectful of the severity of that situation?’ But we, of course, never wanted to make Sophie go through a graphic scene.”

The result was still graphic enough to spark immediate online backlash and heated think pieces; then senator Claire McCaskill publicly declared she would no longer watch the show. HBO issued no official response to the controversy, and Weiss and Benioff have never commented publicly, even deleting a question about it in e-mailed responses for a recent Rolling Stone story.

Cogman stands by the scene, though he acknowledges it served as a pivotal point in a larger cultural discussion about sexual assault on-screen, which had also been used as a plot device on Mad Men and Breaking Bad, among others. “I will never presume to tell someone how they should feel about the scene itself. And believe me, I really tried to listen to all the criticism surrounding it and will continue to listen,” Cogman says. “I do take issue with the presumption of bad faith on our part—the idea that we treated Sophie or the character or the subject matter callously. I think if you watch the scene and see how it fits into the character's larger narrative arc over the subsequent seasons, you'll see that's not the case. At least I hope so.”

“It was a very difficult scene to write,” Cogman says. “It was a very difficult scene to shoot.”

“You see Bryan standing there, crying and wanting to hug you, he did that often,” Turner says. “He was the one that held me afterwards and we both cried together. He's apologizing because he wrote the scene. It was kind of beautiful. It felt like I was safe and not exploited in any way because I was with him. He's always been something of a protector, so it's really special to have him there.”

The controversies around Season Five, which saw many beloved characters used, abused, or shipped off to Dorne, did not dampen the show's popularity. That September Cogman and his fellow producers picked up the first of three Emmy Awards for Outstanding Drama Series, among a pile of others the show won.

As Game of Thrones headed toward its conclusion, it also moved away from the intimate, theater-like moments Cogman excelled at—partly a function of the large-scale conflict built into Martin's story, but also the TV landscape that Thrones transformed, bringing C.G.I.-heavy blockbuster spectacle to the small screen and daring other networks to keep up. HBO underwent a transformation as well. Once best-known as a boutique home for prestige TV, the premium cable channel was acquired last summer by AT&T, and an executive revealed plans to increase HBO's output of original content by 50 percent in 2019.

For a while, Cogman thought one of those new shows would be his to run. He had no ambition to do any kind of Thrones sequel until Martin asked him personally at a dinner with Weiss and Benioff in May 2017. There was a particular story he felt only Cogman could tell. (Many fans have guessed that it's the Targaryen-centric Dance of the Dragons tale, but for now Martin and Cogman are keeping it to themselves.) “The logical heir was Bryan,” Martin says. “He had been there since the very beginning.”

Despite himself, Cogman yielded to the excitement of the project. But the timing couldn't have been worse. Cogman had to pitch HBO his prequel idea while the final season of Game of Thrones was in production, and he was in a bake-off with four other writers, some of whom had also worked with Martin. Weiss and Benioff gave Cogman their blessing but were busy wrapping up their own time in Westeros, which meant any advice they gave was incidental: “Every now and then we'd discuss something or other while we were shivering in the writer's tent in Northern Ireland,” they wrote.

Collaborating with Martin on the prequel pitch, Cogman felt both a pressure and an arrogance that came from being the only contender in the race who had both worked on the original series and was handpicked by Martin. He spent the bulk of the final season's shoot under the impression that this wasn't truly his final season. “I wasn't really doing the kind of emotional, cathartic work one needs to do to say goodbye to everything,” he says.

Cogman found out he didn't get the job in spring 2018, and that Jane Goldman would, instead, be helming a series centered on the earliest days of Westeros. At the same time, his wife—who had put her own acting career on hold for most of a decade to support Cogman's work—was suffering from a herniated disk. Disappointed and suddenly having to move his family out of their home in Belfast, Cogman has no memory of his last day on the set of Game of Thrones: “I was exhausted and Mandy was hurting. We were packing up our lives of 10 years.”

“It hit me hard, not because I thought there was any great injustice. I'm sure Jane's show is going to be great,” Cogman says. “But all the insecurities come up: What, I can't even write Game of Thrones now?”

The story Martin so favored may live on at HBO, but Cogman is ready to try new things. Last September, Amazon Studios snapped him up and put him to work—the day after he picked up his third Emmy for Thrones—consulting on a hotly anticipated project he can't yet disclose. But, most exciting for Cogman, he will be developing a whole raft of shows that may have nothing whatsoever to do with dragons.

Martin still texts regularly with Cogman, and has offered occasional friendly input as Cogman searches for new books that Amazon might adapt. “I hope to work with him again someday if the various corporate entities that we work for allow it,” Cogman jokes. But Martin himself is locked into an overall deal with HBO, and Cogman, finally, is ready to move on. He attended the splashy Game of Thrones Season Eight premiere at Radio City Music Hall in April, but the following Monday he was back to work at Amazon, with a large-scale poster of a trio of his favorites—Arya, Sansa, and Brienne—watching over him.

“I was number two to the captain, and now I've gotta see if I can sit in that captain's chair,” Cogman says. “I'm looking forward to finding my people the way Dan and David found theirs.”

#got #bryan cogman #i would fucking pay to have him work on WoT

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trippol-threat · 6 years

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CritRole RsWeek day 1 -> Caleb x Molly (Mollymaukkk)

~I do not have a title for this, and it’s only part of what I’ve written because it kinda got away from me and I’ve still got so much left to do of it.

Words->1665 Rating -> General Audiences Read on AO3

Caleb was, like normal, silently sat on the end of the Mighty Nein's table for the night, staring down at his pint of ale like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He did, in fact, have a much more interesting book upstairs in his room that Nott had “totally-definitely-not stolen” from The Archive of the Cobalt Soul because she saw him “looking at it longingly” and he “deserves anything and everything” he wants. It was just Nott had wanted him to be sociable and had looked at him with her eyes in the way she knew he couldn't resist (it reminded him of the way Frumpkin looked at him sometimes when he wanted some of Caleb's food), so he was there.

“-isn't that right, Caleb?”

Caleb startled at the sound of his name, and looked up to the rest of the group. He tried to remember the conversation, but it seemed he had been so preoccupied with his thoughts that he couldn't recall anything.

“I said he wasn't listening! Hand it over Jester.” Beauregard exclaimed after a few moments of Caleb not answering. Jester reluctantly handed over two silver pieces.

“Hey, that's not fair! You could've told Caleb to react like that!”

Both Caleb and Beauregard looked at Jester incredulously “Really? Come on, Caleb's the last one I'd set something like that up with. He can't lie for shit and besides, we all know we hate each other's guts.”

Caleb's protestation of his lying skills died when Jester's expression turned defeated and just shrugged his shoulders. “Beauregard is correct. She hates me because, according to her, I should just be able to forget about my past,-” Caleb's voice turned hard “-and I hate her because I can't believe anyone would be so unaccepting of my coping methods when hers are to punch everything she sees.

Everyone except Beauregard and Mollymauk looked at Caleb with astonishment at his outburst. Beauregard let out a humourless laugh. “Well, he's not wrong. Here's to unhealthy coping mechanisms, eh Widogast?” She raised her tankard.

Caleb just glared back then snapped his head to Mollymauk who was smirking next to him. “What's so funny, Mollymauk? Care to share to the group?”

“Oh, it's nothing.” The whole group's gaze shifted to him, none of the believing. “Oh, alright. Look, I'm just glad that our little Wizard here actually has a backbone. It's nice to see he's not-” Mollymauk slammed his mouth shut when he saw Nott bare her teeth.

“Anyway, am I the only one who is wondering what has Caleb so absent?” Fjord, ever the guardian, interjected before tensions could run too high and a fight could begin.

“Yeah Caleb! Tell us. Were you thinking about a girllllllll?” Jester's voice rang out straight after Fjord, her annoyance at losing the bet apparently dissipating just as fast as it had appeared.

Caleb spluttered on the mouth of ale he'd just taken.

“Um, Jester? I don't think girls are Caleb's, um, area of expertise” Fjord at least had the decency to lower his voice, but all the group still heard him.

“Is that true Caleb? Do you like guys? Oh! I know so many great guys! I could set you up. It'll be great. Especially as Beau apparently isn't into guys.” She looks accusingly at the monk. “You might like some of the guys I was going to set up with her!”

“No, umm-” Jester's face fell. Caleb felt Mollymauk go strangely still against his side, but had no idea why “-I... I mean... Well, yes, technically-” he paused as the strange stillness next to him became sudden rigidity, and a memory, long-buried, stirred “-but no, that's not what I was thinking about. I was just thinking about a book of Arcane I have upstairs. Mollymauk-” the body next to him relaxed once again “-doesn't matter.”

Well used to Caleb's strangeness, the rest of their group took no notice of Caleb's half sentence, and instead went back to the topic at hand.

“I wonder what sort of book could have distracted Caleb so much.” Beauregard began the conversation once again, with an accompanying eye-roll from Caleb.

“Hm, you said Arcane, right Caleb? Could be a new spell or something he got from that library.”

“Yeah, except you can't take scrolls away from the archive, Jester.”

“Something he bought from Pumat's then?” Beauregard responded. “You went to Pumat's with him after all, didn't you Fjord?”

“I mean, yeah, but he didn't get anything except more fancy paper and ink.”

Already knowing what the book was, Caleb and Nott were conversing silently in the way they learnt in the prison where they met. They startled when Mollymauk suddenly spoke up.

“I think you're all ignoring the obvious.” The trio at the end looked at Mollymauk expectantly. “Caleb was obviously thinking about pending 'edubation'.”

A chorus of giggle broke out throughout the group, Jester's being the loudest, but even with hers, Caleb couldn't miss Nott's giggles. He shook his head and, with a smile, drank the rest of his ale in one go. “I do think that is my cue to leave. That's enough socialising for me for one night.” He stood and kissed Nott's head. “Goodnight, all.”

He left the table and made his way to the corridor that lead to their rooms, shaking his head when the barely-stifled giggles became full laughs, and smirked when he heard Nott's voice ring out loud enough to be heard at his door.

“It was a book about transformation magic! I got him it!” as she tumbled into another round of intoxicated giggles.

“They are going to be so hung over in the morning.” Caleb said to himself as he let himself into his room, sat on his bed and opened the aforementioned book.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caleb's not completely sure what time it was when a tentative knock at his door pulled him from his book. He could have probably worked it out easily enough, but he felt content with the knowledge that enough time had passed for the sun to set properly and for the moon to rise high in the night sky.

“Come in.” Although Caleb was unsure as to who would have wanted to talk to him at that time of night, he is unconcerned that it was an intruder. No one could get past Beauregard and Jester with ill intentions, even when they were drunk.

He was, however, slightly surprised that it was purple horns that peaked through the crack in the door. “Hi. Just wanted to tell you that Nott is having a sleepover with the girls again, and that she says you're not to worry.”

“I thought it would be one of you or Fjord. Nott tends not to knock when she enters our room.” Caleb offered Mollymauk a tentative smile, but when the Tiefling didn't leave straight away, Caleb sighed. “Anything else I could help you with?”

“Usually it's Fjord that checks on you and passes messages along but he's passed out after a drinking game with Beau, that he lost, by the way, and he tends to snore when he's drunk and-”

“Mollymauk, come in. Sit.” Caleb paused until Mollymauk was sat on Nott's bed, facing himself. Mollymauk stayed silent, seemingly aware Caleb had more to say. “Mollymauk, would you like to sleep in here tonight?”

“Would that be alright? I mean, I'm fine to back to my room if it'll bother you. I'll be asleep so fast, Fjord wont even bother me-”

“It is fine. There is going to be an empty bed tonight anyway, what does it matter what room it is in? Ja?”

“I suppose so.”

Caleb attempted to continue reading his book, but felt himself hyper-aware that Mollymauk had not moved or made any attempts to get into bed. He sighed again and closed his book with more force than was strictly necessary. “Is there something else you wished to say, Mollymauk?”

Mollymauk swallowed and looked up to see Caleb looking at him with a mixture of concern and exasperation. Mollymauk smirked, despite his awkwardness at the impending conversation. That particular mixture of facial expressions was both a Caleb signature, and somehow only conveyable by the wizard.

“I just wanted to check I didn't cross any lines earlier with my comment. You left pretty sharpish afterwards and I hoped I didn't upset you at all.”

Caleb let out a breathy laugh, seemingly at Mollymauk's discomfort and sudden awkwardness. “No, Mollymauk. You did not upset me. I left only because I wished to read this -” He gestured to the book, now laying on the bed bedside him “- and because your comment gave me an opportunity to do so. Do not feel concerned that you have upset me. I actually was also amused by the implication. Although I must admit I will not mourn the day 'edubation' is forgotten about.” Caleb smiled slightly at Mollymauk, meeting his gaze despite the discomfort he found himself in. For some reason, Caleb could always put aside his discomfort when Mollymauk was involved. Only Nott held the same feelings of safety, and that had taken months of working together. Not the few weeks he had been with Mollymauk.

Mollymauk smiled fully at Caleb. Not his usual showman's smile, but a genuine smile, and the laughter returned to his voice when he spoke again. “I am glad of that, although I regret to tell you that I don't think anyone is going to forget 'edubation' for a long time, my dear.”

Caleb groaned excessively and through himself onto his pillow face down. He heard Mollymauk's chuckle, but did not move. Only when he heard Mollymauk readying himself for sleep did he turn over, move his book back into his cloak and get under the covers himself.

“Goodnight Mollymauk. Sleep well.”

“Goodnight Mister Caleb.”

#critrole rsweek #mollymauk tealeaf #mollymauk #molly x caleb #Mollymauk tealeaf x caleb widogast #caleb #caleb widogast #jester #fjord #beauregard

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jaybug-jabbers · 4 years

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Bug Run 5: Final Comments & Movesets

So, my final commentary and discussion of builds isn’t going to be too complex this time. As I’ve already noted, in gen 5, an all-bug team is a pretty easy ride. We made for a pretty balanced team and had some very solid base stats all around. The battles in gen 5 are also pretty easy in general.

That said, it was fun to watch the team grow and progress.

Leavanny: Leaf Blade/Swords Dance/X-Scissor/Reflect - Miracle Seed

This was my starter pokemon, the beautiful leafy mantis Leavanny. This species is overlooked by many simply by virtue of its typing, Bug/Grass. Quite frankly, it’s your loss if you pass this poke up for simply that reason.He has good speed and amazing attack and makes for a powerful sweeper if you treat him right. He’s squishy on defenses, so it’s best to treat him like a glass cannon, but he can be a powerful ally if, as I note, you know how to handle him.

Green Bean may not have been a poke that could save me in all circumstances– he’s definitely a specialized fighter– but he was with me through to the end and when I called on him to do his job, he did it well. He even occasionally survived some hits that I didn’t expect in my wildest dreams for him to survive. Bug pokes’ll surprise ya.

Scoliopede: X-Scissor/Superpower/Toxic/Screech - Leftovers

Oh, Tonka! I am so happy to have finally met you. I used Scoliopede a little bit in the past, but I never kept him on my team long term before. I adored his design so much, though, and always wanted to have him on a steady team. It was great to finally do so here. I learned a lot about Scoliopede.

For one, they’re scrappy and reliable as heck. They’re also extremely versitile. Tonka was a big, beefy boy, able to take a lot of hits but also dish out powerful attacks. He also is surprisingly speedy for such a big beast. With such excellent, well-rounded stats, it makes for a great mix. Tonks was always surviving super-effective hits when I needed him to and acting as a wall on my early team, but he also had the power to get the knock-outs and to get them fast.

Another thing about Scoliopede is their diverse movepool. Relatively speaking for a bug, at least. His movepool allows for a lot of different builds and strategies. Want a stally tank to poison something and wait for it to die? Sure. Want something to hit fast and hard? Yep. Want something with mixed strats? He can do that too. Want fairly diverse coverage moves? Scoliopede gets Earthquake, Rock Slide, Aqua Tail, Superpower, Iron Tail … and even Swords Dance, if you scrape up the BP for it.

Admittedly, I was pretty annoyed he couldn’t access a lot of these great moves unitl pretty late game, or even post Elite-Four. I had to skip Earthquake, Rock Slide, and Poison Jab TMs because they just aren’t available pre-Elite Four in Black/White 2. Tonka was such a trooper, though. When the others on my team were learning high-basepower, great moves and he was still working with some relatively crummy moves, he still pulled his weight and did so much.

Basically, I’m here to tell you Scolipede is a beautiful creature and one of the best bug pokes out there, and I absolutely adore him.

Crustle: X-Scissor/Rock Slide/Rock Wrecker/Shell Smash - Hard Stone

Here’s something I need to confess: I never cared for Crustle too much. Don’t get me wrong: I adore Dwebble. It’s cute. It’s a hermit crab. How could you not love it? But Crustle, man. That massive slab of rock just looks uncomfortable. And the name is vaguely unpleasant to me.

But Crustle was most definitely the backbone of the team’s defenses for most of the game. It played a pretty essential role in tanking Flying and Fire and Rock hits, and dishing out moves to take out those pokemon, as well. Gaia carried a very heavy weight on her shoulders, and I appreciated that deeply. She worked HARD and was darn reliable. I thank her for taking on so much of the burden of coping with a mono-bug team’s weaknesses, because I don’t think Tonka could have done it alone.

Galvantula: Thunder/Bug Buzz/Energy Ball/Hyper Beam - Magnet

Here she is! <3 Galvantula has always been close to my heart. I had one on my team through to the end for my first run of Pokemon Black/White. I don’t think I need to explain why. Freaking amazing electric tick and neon-colored tarantula? Sign me the heck up. This gal did all the things she was meant to do. As a speedy sweeper, she came in, hit hard, and left. She’s definitely a glass cannon, so don’t go switching her in to take big hits and you’ll be fine. With Compound Eyes, she misses moves extremely rarely. It’s pretty freaking great.

I should also note, our team was pretty heavy with the physical attackers. F-Zero was one of only two special attackers, so that made her role extra important.

Volcarona: Heat Wave/Psychic/Quiver Dance/Fly - TwistedSpoon

It’s probably not surprising that I never used a Volcarona in-game before for anything other than hatching eggs. It just never occurred to me. They’re just so powerful, right? It would be boring to use something so OP.

I brought Volcarona along for the ride this time and got the chance to really test it out. Or … did I? Volcarona is an extremely late bloomer. This is not just due to its incredibly late evolution– level 59, if you breed one– all of its useful moves are also incredibly late gains, as well. When you capture the one at the Relic Castle in Black/White 2, it’s at level 35 and comes equipped with String Shot, Leech Life, Gust, and Fire Spin. Needless to say, these are terrible moves. It takes a very long time for it to gain anything worth using at all, so you will need to help it along with some TMs until then. Your options are not exactly many. A lot of the coverage moves Volcarona get are physical, which are a very poor choice for this special attacker. I pretty much just limped along with Psychic and Fly– fly merely because it was a useful field move.

Once Ra hit level 60, he finally picked up some good moves with Silver Wind, Quiver Dance and Heat Wave. Psychic is still a great coverage move, though, so I kept that on him. I didn’t have Charcoal so I just kept the TwistedSpoon I had on him for his Psychics. If I had the chance, I would have replaced Fly with Hurricane, but that doesn’t come until level 90. I considered removing Fly and tutoring Roost into Ra before the Elite battle, but I think I just forgot to.

In short, I don’t think Ra even had a chance to reach his full potential, despite being on my team a fair length of time. This species takes a long time to hit its stride. When it does, though, it can be a fierce foe, a great special attacker with tanky sp def. They work best if you have the chance to set up with a Quiver Dance or two (or a Fiery Dance), which helps you deal with their middling speed. You do need to be careful with their massive rock weakness, which is a huge deal in a game where virtually everything seems to have a rock move, but having a bug neutral to fire hits is pretty great on a mono-bug team.

It’s a shame Ra didn’t get the chance to fully shine, but maybe I’ll go back and play the post-game sometime. I know he has a lot of potential.

Durant: Iron Head/X-Scissor/Dig/Thunder Wave - Razor Claw

Speaking of late bloomers, Durant is not so much a late bloomer as an insanely late addition to the crew. It’s always a bittersweet feeling, a new species of pokemon showing up at Victory Road. On the one hand, you’re excited and glad there are still surprises left for you, even in the late game. On the other hand, you’re sad when you discover an amazing species and it never had a chance to join you for more of your adventures.

Durant may often be overlooked by many in favor of other steel bug types of his generation– Escavalier, in particular– but these vicious little ants are not to be trifled with. Originally I was going to get one with Hustle and teach it Hone Claws, but when I caught one with Swarm, I decided to just go with it. Even without the Hustle boost, that’s some very respectable attack. Not quite as much as its Escavalier kin, sure, but Durant actually sports superior defense and, of course, far better speed. All in all, there’s a lot of damage you can do with this tiny terror.

My only regret is as I already mentioned– I hardly spent any time at all with her. Throughout the run, the core of my team was Leavanny, Scoliopede, Crustle and Galvantula. In a post-game or future run, maybe I’ll get to use these buggos a little more.

And that about wraps things up! See you next time!

This is a repost on a new blog. The original post was on Feb 25, 2019.

#pokemon #bugrun #bugrun5 #mycontent #pokemon playthroughs

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thekuroiookami · 7 years

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Otome Mania

This is no longer a secret, I have played, do play and will play a fair number of otome games. I’m weak to cliched romantic plotlines, okay?

Since I did promise @lethesomething a list, here it is. The summary is...I’ve played a lot of games.

Games organized by console, arranged from meh to great.

PS Vita

I pretty much got a Vita so I could play otomes. Don’t judge me too harshly. And while a lot of these are incomplete (i.e. I haven’t played through every route), I feel like I can give an opinion.

Norn 9: Var Commons - Admittedly I haven’t gotten far into this, but lord is the plot confusing. Like, what is happening? What is happening? So many pretty people, though...

Sweet Fuse - Cute, fun, though not high on replay value. The characters are really weird, but don’t let that stop you. They have charm, and the parody elements are worth it. Plus blowing your top has never been so satisfying.

Collar x Malice - I almost finished one route and I’m really enjoying it. The heroine has so much personality and she chews out the dude whose route I was doing, and the mystery is so intriguing, if a tad weirdly investigated...

Code Realize: Guardian of Rebirth - By far the best otome game I’ve played on anything. A beautifully built world, excellent artwork, a heroine with backbone, massively diverging plotlines, and just about every love interest is actually interesting. I’d encourage everyone to play this when it comes out on PC. The Suwabe character is just the icing on the cake for once.

PS3

Hakuoki: Demon of the Fleeting Blossom - Hugely overrated, I think, though not many games can match the artwork. Incredibly long, painful storylines that made me yawn. Heroine has zero presence. I do love Saito though.

Mobile

Mystic Messenger - Is entertaining, but every love interest needs immediate help from a psychologist. The format works to the game’s advantage, and the voice acting is good, I spent a ton of money on it. But the romance doesn’t always feel like a romance.

Liar: Uncover the Truth - This is a surprisingly fun game, but I didn’t have the patience to wait for tickets, or spend money on the black hole. Sad but true.

Games you should definitely never play:

Amnesia: Memories - out and out horror, that one. I don’t know why player character has a sprite, because her personality is non-existent.

Ozmafia - Theoretically very interesting, but in practice, suffers from a spineless heroine. I have a knack for finding the yandere route the second time I play any game, and...let’s say if you play the doctor’s route you’re in for some surprises. Yeah.

Men of Yoshiwara: Sigh. Terrible translation, first off, backed up by terrible writing. Just don’t.

Games that are okay to pass the time:

Seduce Me and Seduce Me 2: Demon War - It’s not like this one is bad, just not amazing. It’s decently voice acted, and the first one is a cute rom-com. The second game gets a lot more complex and weird, and it’s super easy to die. The first game is free.

The Lady’s Choice - A Regency romance otome game with only two choices, but it’s nice how much you can shape the MC’s personality. Free on itch.io.

Dandelion and Nameless - Both of these are Korean-origin, produced by the same company that did Mystic Messenger, and while they do have strong writing plus original concepts, somehow the games never keep my attention for long. Nameless is a bit dark in tone, if that appeals to you. Dandelion is a stat-raising sim, which I hate with a passion.

Loren the Amazon Princess - I think this was one of the first ones I played, and it was pretty ahead in the range of LGBTQ characters, but now that I think back on it, the RPG/romance combination was a tad strange. But I do recommend it.

Days of the Divine - Another of those free itch.io ones, I can barely remember this. It was passable.

How to Take Off Your Mask - Cute, but I can’t remember what the point was.

Games that are super cute and definitely need to be played at least once:

Cute Demon Crashers - It’s a pretty short game, but utterly wonderful in its simplicity and earnestness. An R-18 novel that is very high on sex positivity, I’d recommend this one a lot. Free on itch.io.

The Blind Griffin - An odd but good work set in the age of flapper dresses and speakeasies, following a Chinese heroine who accidentally stumbles upon a secret magician’s guild and trains as an apprentice. Great art, comes with a slang dictionary, and makes up for its abruptness with cuteness. Free on itch.io.

Heartbaked - Lots of aggressive pastry references in this one, and one guy who is? a sheep? Or something? I dunno, it’s adorable. Free on itch.io.

Hustle Cat - A cat cafe, only the staff are the cats. Light hearted fun, though it is easy to mess the game up and get a bad ending.

Autumn’s Journey - So cute. So much fluff. Dragon boys. A girl knight. Enough said. Free on itch.io.

Magical Otoge Ciel - If you want to simultaneously have your soul uplifted and go “WTF is this meta”, play this. It’s so irreverent and sweet, and the art grows on you. @batensan‘s Magical Otoge Anholly is a good read as well, though it is technically a linear novel. Free on itch.io.

Taarradhin - A beautiful fantasy short, but incredibly hard to figure out. The high probability of getting it wrong kind of put me off. Free on itch.io.

Lads in Distress - Exactly what it says on the tin. Overly competent princess with pink hair takes matters into her own hands and saves the princes. I only wish we also had the option to date the childhood fried cum fairy advisor. Free on itch.io.

Re: Alistair - This one is really good, and honestly would have been included in the best games list if it had more LIs. There’s a cute mystery to sort of solve, and I don’t even mind the stat-raising elements. Free on itch.io.

Ristorante Amore - Gorgeous art, and a major plot twist once the story really gets started. I can’t give away anything for fear of ruining it, so just go play it. Free on itch.io.

Yo-Jin-Bo - One of my guilty pleasures, honestly. Yes the MC is a wimp, but the absolute comedy that passes for dialogue is worth it.

Games that sink their claws in and don’t let go:

Cinders - I cannot recommend this enough. Sublime story-telling, the option to be Machiavellian, naively sweet or something in between. The LI’s are good, of course (guess who’s my favourite), but the real star of the show is female relationships - Cinders and her stepsisters, the daughters and the mother, the godmother in disguise. There’s so many possible outcomes as well. I wish the original fairytale were half as interesting.

Cinderella Phenomenon - A free game I backed on Kickstarter, and it’s looking pretty good. The heroine is unapologetically bitchy, but goes through some satisfying character development in the routse I played. Intrigue abounds, and even though I wish there was a little less blushing to go around, it’s pretty good overall.

Demonheart - I am a little torn about this, because it’s an ongoing game on Steam (released in chapters). On the one hand, I feel like romance things happened really abruptly in the last chapter. On the other, the concept is executed very well and there are so many choices. Plus, excellent worldbuilding.

Nachtigal - A really good shorter game about a spunky heroine trapped with two vampires. There’s a whole variety of ways to die in this one, so it’s extra satisfying when you do land the guy.

The Royal Trap - Say what you will about it, but as one of the first VNs I read, I still quite like this one. So many romance options, and so much intrigue. Each route reveals something different about the overall plot. Good stuff.

The Second Reproduction - Starts off typical, but then it goes down some truly unexpected routes. Strong heroine, attractive demon king. Be sure to play it with a guide to get the whole story.

There are plenty I haven’t played at all, or not enough to comment, but this is the list I’d give out to anyone who wanted some recs.

#otome game #recommendations #not anime #random stuff #wow this is long #im restraining myself #honestly

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all-about-the-tea-parties · 7 years

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Housework with Boys

I think one of the most stressful and challenging summers I've ever had were when my male cousins came to stay for a month in our home for the very first time in our lives (though it soon became tradition).These two were brothers, one about 18 ish at the time (maybe a little younger) and the other only 11.

These brothers had grown up in a male-dominated household, with a mother who not only indulged their every whim but also took over management of household chores. For the most part she enjoyed this (she likes taking care of people) however, as a full time doctor who is ambitiously trying to move up in her career, it is clear that these favours do her out eventually - after all no one can be on the go forever, we all need a break. At this point, her sons were too used to their privilege that any hint of house work sent them into "cute" persuasions out of it. If this didn't work, they became aggressive.

Needless to say, this behaviour showed itself in their first month with us.

As kids who were also used to being let off chores, me and my sisters weren't unsympathetic to their discomfort with being handed a chore list upon arrival. We knew that the initial shock can make a person both stubborn and offended. However, our raising was...much different. When my mother got to the point in her life where she could no longer handle being the backbone of the household, she didn't try and get us to work - she demanded it.

In a lot of ways I saw her point. But my mother has a tendency to guilt trip and words like "ungrateful" "lazy" and "spoilt" soon surfaced as my sisters and I tried to readjust to our new responsibilities. I adjusted the fastest, my need to avoid conflict really helping in that respect, however my younger sister tended to avoid it and my older became short tempered whenever my mother opened her mouth with criticism. Just so you know, I tried devising s chore list a couple times (to help with allocating responsibility) which my mom shot down because "we should just know" and whenever we do things unprompted (for the past 4 years I've been the family cook and my younger sister has random spurts of cleaning fever where the house becomes spotless in a day) we were met with more criticism or completely ignored. My mom is petty like that.

However not doing work was WAY WORSE. So it's understandable that the moment my cousins came through the door I handed them a chore list that split the work between us and them fairly evenly (I took on the most work to avoid bickering). I expected some short term hot headedness, excuses, complaints and maybe a tantrum. I was under the impression that once I told them about my "Mom Situation" they would ease up - it wasn't a long list.

I did not expect a month of my summer to become living hell. There was anger, tantrums (mainly from the youngest brother), sneaky switching of chores, competitiveness, swearing, accusations (towards me) of unfair use of authority (I was named Manager by my dad), petty comments, slamming doors, more anger. I HAD TO TEACH THEM HOW TO WASH DISHES

To be fair, the older brother was less explosive than the younger one, and we did enjoy good times throughout the month (and following summers were far easier) but it was awful being a parent to two kids who think they're kings.

I wasn't just breaking through a "rich kid privilege" barrier I was breaking through a "male privilege" barrier. Do you know how many times I was EXPECTED - not asked - to make them snacks and get them drinks and freaking spoon feed the idiots? Their whole life they only saw girls do the work and then they believed that was how things were. Ugh.

Now - it's different. My younger cousin has a lot more to learn but he's more appreciative these days and kind (my sisters and I were the only ones who supported his art love and wish to join the school choir), and my older cousin now says a real genuine "thank you" (full of surprise and everything) whenever I'm in the mood to play host and make him some food (it's something I enjoy doing, I just don't enjoy being expected to do it).

I could say me and my family's unwillingness to budge for their excuses helped, but to be honest I think we bonded over our shared fear of my mothers disapproval and criticism. It really sped up the process.

However, for future generations who want their kids to help out - make a freaking chore list. Get them to incorporate it into their lives at an early age. Theses things are learned, not inherent. And don't criticise them if they forget or mess up. And say thank you and praise them for doing good. It's a much better, healthier motivator.

This has been a PSA.

#boy cousins #sexism #home #mothers #criticism #feminism #chores #housework #family #stress

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cristayleeswiftlpt-blog · 6 years

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30 THINGS I LEARNED BEFORE TURNING 30

1. I learned to block some of the noise. Social media can be great, but it can also inundate your brain with images of what you aren’t, how you’re failing, or who is in a cooler locale than you at any given moment. One thing I do to lessen this weird insecurity laser beam is to turn off comments. Yes, I keep comments off on my posts. That way, I’m showing my friends and fans updates on my life, but I’m training my

brain to not need the validation of someone telling me I look . I’m also blocking out anyone who might feel the need to tell me to “go die in a hole ho” while I’m having my coffee at nine in the morning. I think it’s healthy for your self-esteem to need less internet praise to appease it, especially when three comments down you could unwittingly see someone telling you that you look like a weasel that got hit by a truck and stitched back together by a drunk taxidermist. An actual comment I received once.

2. Being sweet to everyone all the time can get you into a lot of trouble. While it may be born from having been raised to be a polite young lady, this can contribute to some of your life’s worst regrets if someone takes advantage of this trait in you. Grow a backbone, trust your gut, and know when to strike back. Be like a snake—only bite if someone steps on you.

3. Trying and failing and trying again and failing again is normal. It may not feel normal to me because all of my trials and failures are blown out of proportion and turned into a spectator sport by tabloid takedown culture (you had to give me one moment of bitterness, come on). BUT THAT SAID, it’s good to mess up and learn from it and take risks. It’s especially good to do this in your twenties because we are searching.

That’s GOOD. We’ll always be searching but never as intensely as when our brains are still developing at such a rapid pace. No, this is not an excuse to text your ex right now. That’s not what I said. Or do it, whatever, maybe you’ll learn from it. Then you’ll probably forget what you learned and do it again.... But it’s fine; do you, you’re searching.

4. I learned to stop hating every ounce of fat on my body. I worked hard to retrain my brain that a little extra weight means curves, shinier hair, and more energy. I think a lot of us push the boundaries of dieting, but taking it too far can be really dangerous. There is no quick fix. I work on accepting my body every day.

5. Banish the drama. You only have so much room in your life and so much energy to give to those in it. Be discerning. If someone in your life is hurting you, draining you, or causing you pain in a way that feels unresolvable, blocking their number isn’t cruel. It’s just a simple setting on your phone that will eliminate drama if you so choose to use it.

6. I’ve learned that society is constantly sending very loud messages to women that exhibiting the physical signs of aging is the worst thing that can happen to us. These messages tell women that we aren’t allowed to age. It’s an impossible standard to meet, and I’ve been loving how outspoken Jameela Jamil has been on this subject. Reading her words feels like hearing a voice of reason amongst all these loud messages out there telling women we’re supposed to defy gravity, time, and

everything natural in order to achieve this bizarre goal of everlasting youth that isn’t even remotely required of men.

7. My biggest fear. After the Manchester Arena bombing and the Vegas concert shooting, I was completely terrified to go on tour this time because I didn’t know how we were going to keep 3 million fans safe over seven months. There was a tremendous amount of planning, expense, and effort put into keeping my fans safe. My fear of violence has continued into my personal life. I carry QuikClot army grade

bandage dressing, which is for gunshot or stab wounds. Websites and tabloids have taken it upon themselves to post every home address I’ve ever had online. You get enough stalkers trying to break into your house and you kind of start prepping for bad things. Every day I try to remind myself of the good in the world, the love I’ve witnessed and the faith I have in humanity. We have to live bravely in order to truly feel alive, and that means not being ruled by our greatest fears.

8. I learned not to let outside opinions establish the value I place on my own life choices. For too long, the projected opinions of strangers affected how I viewed my relationships. Whether it was the general internet consensus of who would be right

for me, or what they thought was “couples goals” based on a picture I posted on Instagram. That stuff isn’t real. For an approval seeker like me, it was an important

lesson for me to learn to have my OWN value system of what I actually want.

9. I learned how to make some easy cocktails like Pimm’s cups, Aperol spritzes, Old-Fashioneds, and Mojitos because…2016.

10. I’ve always cooked a LOT, but I found three recipes I know I’ll be making at dinner parties for life: Ina Garten’s Real Meatballs and Spaghetti (I just use packaged bread crumbs and only ground beef for meat), Nigella Lawson’s Mughlai Chicken, and Jamie

Oliver’s Chicken Fajitas with Molé Sauce. Getting a garlic crusher is a whole game

changer. I also learned how to immediately calculate Celsius to Fahrenheit in my head. (Which is what I’m pretty sure the internet would call a “weird flex.”)

11. Recently I discovered Command tape, and I definitely would have fewer holes in my walls if I’d hung things that way all along. This is not an ad. I just really love Command tape.

12. Apologizing when you have hurt someone who really matters to you takes nothing away from you. Even if it was unintentional, it’s so easy to just apologize and move on. Try not to say “I’m sorry, but...” and make excuses for yourself. Learn how to make a sincere apology, and you can avoid breaking down the trust in your friendships and relationships.

13. It’s my opinion that in cases of sexual assault, I believe the victim. Coming forward is an agonizing thing to go through. I know because my sexual assault trial was a demoralizing, awful experience. I believe victims because I know firsthand about the shame and stigma that comes with raising your hand and saying “This happened to me.” It’s something no one would choose for themselves. We speak up because we have to, and out of fear that it could happen to someone else if we don’t.

14. When tragedy strikes someone you know in a way you’ve never dealt with before, it’s okay to say that you don’t know what to say. Sometimes just saying you’re so sorry is all someone wants to hear. It’s okay to not have any helpful advice to give them; you don’t have all the answers. However, it’s not okay to disappear from their life in their darkest hour. Your support is all someone needs when they’re at their lowest point. Even if you can’t really help the situation, it’s nice for them to know that you would if you could.

15. Vitamins make me feel so much better! I take L-theanine, which is a natural supplement to help with stress and anxiety. I also take magnesium for muscle health and energy.

16. Before you jump in headfirst, maybe, I don’t know...get to know someone! All that glitters isn’t gold, and first impressions actually aren’t everything. It’s impressive when someone can charm people instantly and own the room, but what I know now to be more valuable about a person is not their charming routine upon meeting them (I call it a “solid first 15”), but the layers of a person you discover in time. Are they honest, self-aware, and slyly funny at the moments you least expect it? Do they show up for you when you need them? Do they still love you after they’ve seen you broken? Or after they’ve walked in on you having a full conversation with your cats as if they’re people? These are things a first impression could never convey.

17. After my teen years and early twenties of sleeping in my makeup and occasionally using a Sharpie as eyeliner (DO NOT DO IT), I felt like I needed to start being nicer to my skin. I now moisturize my face every night and put on body lotion after I shower, not just in the winter, but all year round, because, why can’t I be soft during all the seasons?!

18. Realizing childhood scars and working on rectifying them. For example, never being popular as a kid was always an insecurity for me. Even as an adult, I still have recurring flashbacks of sitting at lunch tables alone or hiding in a bathroom stall, or trying to make a new friend and being laughed at. In my twenties I found myself surrounded by girls who wanted to be my friend. So I shouted it from the rooftops, posted pictures, and celebrated my newfound acceptance into a sisterhood, without realizing that other people might still feel the way I did when I felt so alone. It’s important to address our long-standing issues before we turn into the living

embodiment of them.

19. Playing mind games is for the chase. In a real relationship or friendship, you’re shooting yourself in the foot if you don’t tell the other person how you feel, and what could be done to fix it. No one is a mind reader. If someone really loves you, they want you to verbalize how you feel. This is real life, not chess.

20. Learning the difference between lifelong friendships and situationships. Something about “we’re in our young twenties!” hurls people together into groups that can feel like

your chosen family. And maybe they will be for the rest of your life. Or maybe they’ll just be your comrades for an important phase, but not forever. It’s sad but sometimes when you grow, you outgrow relationships. You may leave behind friendships along the way, but you’ll always keep the memories.

21. Fashion is all about playful experimentation. If you don’t look back at pictures of some of your old looks and cringe, you’re doing it wrong. See: Bleachella.

22. How to fight fair with the ones you love. Chances are you’re not trying to hurt the person you love and they aren’t trying to hurt you. If you can wind the tension of an argument down to a conversation about where the other person is coming from, there’s a greater chance you can remove the shame of losing a fight for one of you and the ego boost of the one who “won” the fight. I know a couple who, in the thick of a fight, say “Hey, same team.” Find a way to defuse the anger that can spiral out of control and make you lose sight of the good things you two have built. They don’t

give out awards for winning the most fights in your relationship. They just give out divorce papers.

23. I learned that I have friends and fans in my life who don’t care if I’m #canceled. They were there in the worst times and they’re here now. The fans and their care for me, my well-being, and my music were the ones who pulled me through. The most emotional part of the Reputation Stadium Tour for me was knowing I was looking out at the faces of the people who helped me get back up. I’ll never forget the ones who stuck around.

24. I’ve had to learn how to handle serious illness in my family. Both of my parents have had cancer, and my mom is now fighting her battle with it again. It’s taught me that there are real problems and then there’s everything else. My mom’s cancer is a real problem. I used to be so anxious about daily ups and downs. I give all of my worry, stress, and prayers to real problems now.

25. I remember people asking me, “What are you gonna write about if you ever get happy?” There’s a common misconception that artists have to be miserable in order to make good art, that art and suffering go hand in hand. I’m really grateful to have learned this isn’t true. Finding happiness and inspiration at the same time has been really cool.

26. I make countdowns for things I’m excited about. When I’ve gone through dark, low times, I’ve always found a tiny bit of relief and hope in getting a countdown app (they’re free) and adding things I’m looking forward to. Even if they’re not big holidays or anything, it’s good to look toward the future. Sometimes we can get overwhelmed in the now, and it’s good to get some perspective that life will always go on, to better things.

27. I learned that disarming someone’s petty bullying can be as simple as learning to laugh. In my experience, I’ve come to see that bullies want to be feared and taken seriously. A few years ago, someone started an online hate campaign by calling me a snake on the internet. The fact that so many people jumped on board with it led me to feeling lower than I’ve ever felt in my life, but I can’t tell you how hard I had to keep from laughing every time my 63-foot inflatable cobra named Karyn appeared onstage in front of 60,000 screaming fans. It’s the Stadium Tour equivalent of responding to a

troll’s hateful Instagram comment with “lol.” It would be nice if we could get an apology from people who bully us, but maybe all I’ll ever get is the satisfaction of knowing I could survive it, and thrive in spite of it.

28. I’m finding my voice in terms of politics. I took a lot of time educating myself on the political system and the branches of government that are signing off on bills that

affect our day-to-day life. I saw so many issues that put our most vulnerable citizens at risk, and felt like I had to speak up to try and help make a change. Only as someone approaching 30 did I feel informed enough to speak about it to my 114 million followers. Invoking racism and provoking fear through thinly veiled messaging is not what I want from our leaders, and I realized that it actually is my responsibility to use my influence against that disgusting rhetoric. I’m going to do more to help. We have a big race coming up next year.

29. I learned that your hair can completely change texture. From birth, I had the curliest

hair and now it is STRAIGHT. It’s the straight hair I wished for every day in junior high. But just as I was coming to terms with loving my curls, they’ve left me. Please pray for their safe return.

30. My mom always tells me that when I was a little kid, she never had to punish me for misbehaving because I would punish myself even worse. I’d lock myself in my room and couldn’t forgive myself, as a five-year-old. I realized that I do the same thing now when I feel I’ve made a mistake, whether it’s self-imposed exile or silencing myself and isolating. I’ve come to a realization that I need to be able to forgive myself for making the wrong choice, trusting the wrong person, or figuratively falling on my face in front of everyone. Step into the daylight and let it go.

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