#in courting jokes at his own expense he invites her to play

[eggy-tea]

One of the things that makes Eugenides such a fantastic character is that he’s brave and loyal and noble, but not even a little bit stoic.

He spends so much time moaning and complaining. He gets scared and he cries and he feels no shame about any of it. He broods and wallows. The gods themselves tell him to stop whining.

I know a certain amount of it is a calculated act, but also, he’s mostly leaning into his strengths in those cases. It’s just so rare to see genuine heroism in a character with such traditionally unheroic traits, and I love it. It’s not something to overcome, it’s just who he is — the most inspiring man you’ll ever meet, openly nursing grudges and dishing out petty insults by the dozen.

[sxlver-sweet]

Please i'm begging youu i want to see more fantasy au for tokrev and that pirate would be so good i even have some idess on me already 😩

–🎴

I HAD A FUCKING FIELD DAY WITH THIS I WANNA HEAR YOUR IDEAS PLS SHARE

i’m currently sleep-deprived, so some of these are probably really basic and there’s most likely errors somewhere in here skdkcmdksk

also, requests may be closed, but discussions and more ideas are absolutely welcome.

faerie!kokonoi, who preys on the heartbroken drunkards at upscale bars, listening with a secretive smile as they spill their life stories to the bartender. silver-tongued and clever, kokonoi purrs his condolences, slipping their name into the conversation with ease and feigning oblivion when they, cloudy-eyed and ignorant, hand over their precious bank information and the locations of their valuables.

tailor!mitsuya unable to concentrate on stitching up a torn dress with the incessant clanging in the background and snapping at blacksmith!pah-chin, who’s busy forging knight!baji a new sword. mitsuya chastises baji for being so careless, but all baji does is grumble and turn away, black oil and dirt smeared on his flushed cheeks and long hair clinging to his sweat-stained forehead from his previous sparring session.

wizard!mitsuya spinning golems out of clay and shooing them away with an order to find him more materials to craft matching cloaks for his newest apprentices, luna and mana.

leprechaun!nahoya luring unsuspecting villagers into the forest with the promise of gold coins, only to send branches crashing down onto their heads when they venture far enough. they shout irately and scramble after him as he tumbles, laughing, into the shadows… but it’s no use. he’s too fast.

mermaid!yuzuha punching the shit out of pirates and dragging them down from their ships when they disturb and/or hunt the peaceful merfolk

knight!draken pledging his life to princess!emma

werewolf!baji, who appears to casually laugh off questions about his sharp, prominent canines; when in reality, when he’s secretly sweating bullets. werewolf!baji, whom the others wrinkle their noses at and tease when he orders his steak rare. werewolf!baji, who can’t hide the particularly ferocious, almost predatory glint in his eye that only appears during brawls after the sun has fallen. everyone laughs it off, mistaking his bloodlust for adrenaline. it’s only baji, he’s just intense, they reason.

half-blood!takemichi, who leaps through time with the protective blood of a phoenix coursing through his veins. half-blood!takemichi, whose blood aids him in resisting the beckon of death that pries at the empty body he habitually leaves behind and enables him to keep rising back to his feet no matter who knocks him down.

dybbuk!shinichiro, whose rage inhabits mikey’s body, only flaring to aid in crushing kazutora beneath his little brother’s fist. dybbuk!shinichiro, who plucks away at mikey’s sanity day in and day out, demanding for his death to be avenged. dybbuk!shinichiro, who is the reason that mikey can no longer set foot in his bike shop, because no matter how hard he tries, mikey can’t seem to shut out the eerie groaning of forgotten bikes as they rust away or the crackling squelch of metal colliding with bone that he’s positive he’s never heard before—so why is he hearing it now?

executioner!kazutora, who has no problem with the unjust slaughters that tyrant!kisaki approves, because his unchecked guilt can only be satiated by “cleansing the kingdom of immoral souls.” executioner!kazutora, who hums a crude tavern song as he takes his sweet time lining up his blade with the neck of the shivering woman hunched before him—the shivering woman whose only crime is swiping some bread to feed her starving family. executioner!kazutora, who only finds retribution in the twisted cycle of playing the role of god’s “divine” axe.

knight!toman forming a wall in front of their king to square off against an approaching army, a measly one hundred men with fire in their eyes and swords dripping with blood—a measly one hundred men fully prepared to offer up their lives to protect king!mikey.

jester!hanma, who flirts with the women of the court and openly takes cheap shots at tyrant!kisaki, regardless of whether or not he’s in the vicinity. still, it doesn’t matter how humorous the joke is. no one dares to allow even a twitch of their lips. how hanma hasn’t been executed yet, they don’t know.

pirate!nahoya, who cackles like a madman and jeers at an opposing ship from his place perched atop the crow’s nest

apothecary!souya meeting his future s/o in a field of lavender while he’s searching for fresh herbs. apothecary!souya, who’s mortified by the chalky powder spattered on his overalls and runs a hand through his hair, accidentally smearing a yellow dust through his blue curls. apothecary!souya, who blushes when you kindly offer to brush the powder from his hair. apothecary!souya, who offers you one of the dandelions peeking from his pocket as a gesture of gratitude.

ladies-in-waiting!emma and hina scurrying off to deliver empty dishes to cook!mitsuya, who leans forward expectantly to hear the latest gossip when they approach him with sparkling eyes and poorly concealed smiles.

adviser!draken storming into king!mikey’s private chambers without an invitation to shout at him for neglecting his duties and drag him by the ankle out of bed

sorceress!hina enchanting a four-leaf clover necklace with a spell to keep knight!takemichi safe in battle

spymaster!sanzu scaring the shit out of his scribe!s/o whenever he pops up in the windows of the library in all black with no prior warning

doll-maker!izana, who lives in a secluded area of the woods with his apprentice kakucho and obsessively lines his shelves with replicas of the older brother he wishes he had

knight-in-training!chifuyu working extra hard to impress knight!baji, who had recruited him and taken him under his wing

steampunk inventor!chifuyu, who’s never seen without his trademark goggles that kazutora always pokes fun at and threadbare overalls splattered with oil stains. inventor!chifuyu, who nearly has a heart attack when baji hobbles in on one leg, grinning at him with a face swollen with bruises while waving his detached prosthetic leg in greeting. inventor!chifuyu, who keeps wrenches on his belt specifically to hurl at his idiot friends whenever they come into his shop all beat-up with their bronze prosthetics severely damaged

steampunk!hanma, who has a glass eye with the word “pain” engraved on the iris. steampunk!hanma, who asks kisaki to hold something for him. when the latter holds his hand out with an exasperated sigh, hanma sets his replacement eye in his palm and cackles hysterically when kisaki promptly jolts with disgust and chucks it across the room

cyberpunk!sanzu, who’s already inebriated but continues to drown deeper in the neon lights of the club as he pops an array of glowing pills into his mouth, body numb to the robotic assistants that hum around him and intermingle with the equally delirious crowd in case someone were to collapse from overdosing

masquerade!mitsuya, who smiles at you with such kindness and respect as he guides you onto the marble floor that you immediately resolve to discover his identity at a later date

masquerade!kakucho, who does everything in his power to prevent you from uncovering his identity. masquerade!kakucho, who fears that you’ll be disgusted with his deformed appearance once you see his scar.

samurai!yuzuha, who rescues you from a band of thieves but is perplexed when you insist on repaying her goodwill. samurai!yuzuha, who eventually starts coming to you whenever she needs her wounds bandaged or a home-cooked meal. samurai!yuzuha, who refuses to let you touch her sword with your pure, unsullied hands.

potion-maker!ran, who always despises when rindou barges into his workspace for nothing else than to tip over a couple jars and poke fun at his craft. potion-maker!ran, whose skin and hair have been permanently imprinted with the scent of clove and allspice berries. potion-maker!ran, who concocts love spells and perfumes that grant increased intimacy for the lovesick women who visit him when their own assets aren’t working. potion-maker!ran, who smiles charmingly and calls his female customers “darling.” potion-maker!ran, who has no problem with allowing them to test his products on him in order to guarantee their potency—but only if they’re attractive and have a pretty penny to spare :)

gunslinger!mikey, who almost shoots his big toe off trying to impress the beautiful barmaid across the room

servant!baji, who isn’t the slyest but always makes sure he leaves out a saucer of cream for the stray cats that wander through the town during the night, regardless of how much trouble he gets in. servant!baji, who develops a forbidden bond with his royal!s/o due to their shared love of animals. servant!baji, who is ignorant of the ways of courtship but does his best to flirt with you, however flustered and awkward he may be. servant!baji, who sheepishly seeks advice from his mother about how to impress royalty despite him being unable to offer you any material items.

necromancer!takemichi who doesn’t know wtf is going on and is literally only a necromancer because he fucked up reading a recipe for garlic bread that was written in cursive

vampire!kokonoi, who looks wistfully upon his collection of dusty, old perfume bottles as he recalls how they’d been the most expensive items on the market centuries ago. vampire!kokonoi, who possesses splintered, wooden chests overflowing with outdated currency that will never again be utilized. vampire!kokonoi, who sits for hours and stares at the photo of the young woman that he’s preserved in mint condition for countless years, wondering why he can’t remember who she is

half-blood!mikey, who wonders why his legs are so much stronger than the rest of his body, why he’s always been so much faster than his peers, and why they’re always chock-full of energy. half-blood!mikey, who’s blissfully unaware that the blood of his ancestors is not as it seems. half-blood!mikey, who has zero clue that his lineage marks him a descendant of the minotaur.

farmer!chifuyu, who’s too shy to approach the seamstress’s daughter, so he resigns himself to only admiring her from afar until she makes a move herself. farmer!chifuyu, who’s beyond embarrassed when he accidentally bumps into her, the dirt and grime on his clothing soiling her pristine outfit. farmer!chifuyu, who tries to brush it off, only to panic when the dust on his hands stains the fabric. farmer!chifuyu, who shows up at your mother’s shop the next day to apologize and is nearly chased out due to his kind “not belonging there,” only for you to object and invite him in, claiming that he’s your friend.

jack the ripper!sanzu, who leans up against a dirty brick building with his head low, tongue clicking in rhythm with the slim hands on his golden pocket watch as he decides on his next victim. jack the ripper!sanzu, who dons a simple, shapeless white mask that contrasts sharply with the elaborate feather woven into his top hat. jack the ripper!sanzu, whom others eye skeptically when he skillfully, easily slices his steak into cross-sections with nothing more than a butter knife. jack the ripper!sanzu, who smiles so charmingly at women, basking in their ignorance as he lures them into a sense of false security with a few sweet words. jack the ripper!sanzu, who seals all of his letters documenting his crimes with a lipstick-stained kiss and giggles manically when it smears onto his cheek. jack the ripper!sanzu, who is taken aback when one of his targets whirls on him with anger in their eyes and a knife gripped in their hands, fully prepared to give him a dose of his own medicine.

achilles!izana and patroclus!kakucho. that’s all i have to say. y’all know what’s up👀

soothsayer!takemichi, who’s looked down upon by his fellow prophets because of his frenetic efforts to change the future. while the rest lounge beneath the shade of trees, sweet-smelling smoke curling from their ornate pipes and hazy eyes trailing after people who they know are supposed to die tomorrow, takemichi is doing his best to track them down to warn them of their fate. “he’s just a boy,” the others chuckle, “he won’t make a difference.”

victorian era painter!s/o, who finds seishu inui snoozing beneath a tree and resolves to capture his beauty on a canvas. seishu, who’s well-aware of what you’re doing but decides to let you have your fun. painter s/o, who’s mortified when seishu happens to “wake up” as soon as they sigh with satisfaction and requests to see the picture.

barista!izana, who mixes drugs into his drinks for certain customers while they discreetly slide a handsome wad of cash across the counter

archer!chifuyu, who accidentally spears his superior through the leg while struggling with his bow. archer!chifuyu, who meets kazutora in the dungeons and befriends him during the one night he spends there. archer!chifuyu, who is confused and hesitant when he is abruptly assigned to join the ranks of the prince’s bodyguards. archer!chifuyu, who is white with shock when he sees kazutora stroll into the room, a golden crown balanced atop his head and a wide smile blooming upon his lips when he spots his new friend.

ROBIN HOOD!CHIFUYU

potion-maker!souya, whose face always softens whenever you stop by his shop during your daily mail delivery route. potion-maker!souya, who’s ashamed of himself for having considered exploiting your trust in him and slipping a love potion into your drink. potion-maker!souya, who always offers to make you something befitting the occasion whenever you’re running low on energy, not feeling well, or are nervous about something. potion-maker!souya, who’s too shy to confess his feelings for you.

town crier!nahoya, who sometimes slips a swear word or two into his announcements and prefers to storm the town on horseback, disregarding his elaborate attire. town crier!nahoya, who has definitely snatched you off the street during his routes, leaving you to cling to his sweat-dampened clothes and shout at him for being such an imbecile.

shapeshifter!nahoya, who diligently keeps his eyes closed because he can change everything about his appearance, except for his distinctive eye color.

[doctors-star]

16 for cowboys??

“Look, I care about you, alright? Quite a bit, I’m afraid.”

Johnny flops on his back, head slightly downhill of his feet in a way which makes the blood in his skull rush and whirl bewilderingly and his eyes pressed closed against the burning-bright sun, as yet undimmed by the afternoon. Someone drops a hat on his stomach and he flinches as though it had been a cannonball, sticking his tongue out and playing at being injured like the hognose snake Will had found in the shade under the general store’s porch - he’d rescued it from being killed as a copperhead, scooped it up in his hat, and brought it round to Ainsel’s back window to show the kids, thoroughly derailing all schooling for the day, as they all crowded around the hat to watch the creature resolutely turn on its back and stick its tongue out in repeatedly feigned death.

He stretches massively on the grass, smiling at the gentle laughter and the feeling of someone sitting near him and reaching across to give him two firm pats on the flank like a well-behaved horse. It’s been a long day, and it started early, but Johnny does like the big drives and hay harvests - all Danser collected together for one purpose, to help their neighbours and be rewarded in turn. Before dawn, he’d been drummed awake by fists on his door and had dressed quickly in the dark to stumble out into the street and go about mustering up others in turn. Of their little gang, he’d been first out of doors, followed by Will - looking bleary but drawn out by the other men staying in the saloon - then Ainsel, who seems to think they might be more use in bed than on horseback every time they see their own horse, then Tommy and Finn looking respectively disgustingly bright and alert, and still mostly asleep. Will, with his extremely biddable broad-chested nearly-a-draught horse, is quickly co-opted into driving one of the carts out of town and along the dusty prairie roads, uphill to the Wilder ranch to deliver tin pails of food and heavy stoneware bottles of drink and the very young and the very old, so that all of Danser may equally participate in the drive. Johnny, Finn, Ainsel and Tommy saddle up and cut north through the prairie, up the steeper side of the hill where the road can’t run; there, Diaz, Wilder, and Wilder’s eldest lad are calling instructions over the heads of the crowd and pointing in disparate directions to where the cows oughtta be, and where the cows oughtta go. A further crowd of skirts and fine hats - for today the town congregates, and it had better be in full finery and Sunday best - has collected around Mrs Wilder and Mrs Diaz to make tea and grits and beans cooked with salt pork in molasses, the scent sticky and inviting on the air even now, with hours of cooking left. Johnny tilts his nose into the air and breathes deeply, shooting a wink at Jody Masham when she passes near and earning a delightfully saucy grin for it. Her ma notices, of course, and gives him the evil eye, but Jody lets her fingers trail down his thigh from hip to knee on the pretense of admiring his horse and looks up at him through her lashes and he could perish on the spot for love of her, so what does he care anyhow.

She passes up chunks of soda bread, steaming in the dawning light and golden with butter, and he tosses them to his fellow riders - dinner will be late today, what with the distance the herd might have gone. And then they’re away, riding nearly the full complement of the town’s horses across the plains to where the herd stands, sedate and well-fed on the last of their summer grazing and ready to be collected up, split once more between Wilder and Diaz, and stowed in smaller paddocks with good solid barns over winter.

There ain’t no point in racing, really. There’s no advantage to getting there ahead of any other person. Johnny grins up at the sky, remembering the wind in his hair, hat brim in his teeth, crouching low over his horse to eke out those crucial inches that keep his horse’s nose ahead of Finn’s as they hoot and holler with the freedom of the run.

“Aww,” Finn says in a tone of very mocking gentleness as he nudges Johnny’s knee with the toe of his boot. Johnny cracks an eye open in preparation to glare at him for the inevitable teasing; against the bright and sunny sky, Finn’s hat is like a halo though his face is dark in the shade. “Didya go too fast today? You ain’t got no endurance, Johnny.”

Johnny allows the glare to settle, but before he can retort, someone on his blind side snorts. “No endurance - how many girlfriends has he got, again?”

Johnny chokes on startled laughter. Finn is wide-eyed in delight as he stares across Johnny’s prone form. “William,” he says, sounding scandalised.

Johnny props himself up on his elbows and sticks his hat back on his head so’s he can watch Will spread his hands defensively. “What,” he says, “I can’t be crude sometimes?”

Finn gestures at his own cheeks. “Naw, sure ya can, only it makes your face go so red that I get worried about ya.”

“That’s just the sunburn,” Tommy says cheerfully, clapping Will on the shoulder hard enough to make him sway and dropping to the grass next to Johnny. As promised, Will’s fair skin is flushed with embarrassment and striped with an angry red across his angular nose and cheekbones, the skin already starting to peel from a day under the sun. He huffs and folds to the floor, knees up to his chest and sleeves shoved up to his elbows to display a bar of red down his forearms too.

“I hope you weren’t teachin’ my kids that kind of joke,” Ainsel says, an enormous black umbrella hooked under forearm and over shoulder to shield them from the sun as they carry a wicker basket in two hands packed with tin pails, bread, biscuits, and bottles over to their little circle. The rest of the town is ranged likewise on the hill overlooking the town and, beyond that, the desert; the horses are tacked out near the farmhouse; the kids themselves are enjoying the freedom and sunshine having been released from hay harvest duties and are tearing up and down the hill, weaving in between groups and only occasionally stopping by their families to grab more food before haring off again.

“I have done no such thing,” Will objects crossly, but Ainsel gives him first choice from the basket and tucks him under the umbrella and out of the sun when they sit beside him so it’s quickly forgiven.

“He was exceeding useful,” Noel pronounces, kneeling by the big enamel dish which represents their share of the molasses and beans and salt pork, and wielding a large spoon like a sword. Johnny gathers that she had appeared some time after dawn, to the disparaging muttering of many of the elder town ladies, but had done so with such a quantity of fine bread and pickles and preserves that her critics had been forced to quiet down to faces of pinched displeasure while Noel held court, knowing that it was not a competition and that she had, regardless, won. She had then gone about supervising the hay harvest, keeping the younger kids in line and occupied while those trusted with scythes cut the hay and Will, on horseback, ran the new hay tedder up and down the field, and then releasing them to stack the hay under her exacting eye. Jody and Peggy had been amongst the scythers and had told Johnny with mouths full of giggles how Will had been left “in charge,” and then done every single thing Noel told him to without complaint or thought of defiance - but the harvest had been done, and Danser is too fond of Will to mock him for being hen-pecked by a woman he hasn’t even married.

Johnny reaches across to ruffle Will’s hair, but he ducks away like a feral cat. “Aww,” he laughs, “you’re useful.”

“Wish the rest of you were,” Will grouses, folding sulkily around his plate.

Tommy catches Johnny’s eye and grins wickedly. He beams in reply; Noel sighs in advance. “It’s true,” Johnny says, assuming a woebegone expression and trying not to snigger when Tommy looks similarly sorry for himself. “We ain’t good for anything whatever. Wholly useless, and you don’t love us.”

Will sniffs, mouth turned down comically in disdain. “You’d be mad to do otherwise,” he tells them sternly, in his finest clipped tones - brought out for special occasions, and their amusement.

“Why, Mister Williams, that don’t reflect very well on me at all,” comes a voice behind Johnny’s left shoulder, light and familiar fingers coming to rest there in accompaniment. Distantly, Johnny is aware of Finn choking on laughter and cornbread, and of Will straightening awkwardly with an air of panic, and of Tommy smirking and kicking at the sole of Johnny’s boot in a teasing, vaguely encouraging fashion - but mostly Johnny is aware of those five delicate points of gentle contact over the ball of his shoulder, and the swishing press of skirts against his side, and how if he tilts his head right back and left he can see all up the willowy line of Jody Masham, hip to hair, her blue eyes and golden curls like a field of cornflowers. There’s a little compressed mischief at Will’s expense tucked into her smile, and Johnny wants to kiss at it until she shares it with him; and there’s a loose, frizzy loop of hair that has escaped from the large bonnet that keeps her pale skin free of the sun, and become darkened with sweat and flyaway in the heat, and Johnny wants to press his nose to it, smooth it between his fingers, tuck it carefully away with pins so that she needn’t mind it - he could do that, he thinks, could give up on all other professions but following Jody around to tidy her hair and carry her basket on one arm, shielding her with a parasol with the other hand.

“Um,” Will says guiltily. “I - well-”

“Don’t you dare say you didn’t mean it,” Ainsel says sternly. Jody is smiling fully now; she is so beautiful Johnny could burst.

“I’m not going to lie to the lady,” Will replies, relaxing out of his tense, guilty stance to be indignant at the idea that he might. She is rubbing little circles into his upper arm with her thumb now: Johnny could not tell you for love nor money what Will just said.

“Well,” Jody says, a laugh bubbling in her voice, “how ‘bout you lend me this young man in recompense an’ we’ll call it quits? I’d like a word.”

Johnny is already scrambling to his feet, pressed up on his toes in eagerness to follow her away. Her hand slides down his arm, shoulder to elbow, and the press of it leaves hot lines in its wake that make him shiver. “Ma’am,” Finn says politely, not without amusement, “you keep him.”

Jody curls her fingers around his elbow joint and guides him gently a ways away from everyone else. Once done, he scoops her hands up in his own and holds them carefully like something immeasurably precious. She smiles indulgently and nods at the basket on her other arm, which he’d barely noticed. “Present for you,” she says.

Johnny juggles her fingers into just one hand, freeing up the other to push aside the flannel cover and fetch out a thin, steaming disk of fried batter. “Johnny-cakes,” he says, delighted.

“Couldn’t resist.” He takes a bite, savouring the salty cornmeal cut through with sticky maple syrup, and grins broadly at Jody. She laughs at his enthusiasm and allows him to feed her the other half without letting her hands go, chasing the syrup from his sticky fingers with her tongue until he can barely breathe.

“So, what’s the word?” he manages, biting the tip of his thumb to keep from kissing her, here where her ma is almost certainly watching.

“The word.” Jody bites her lip, huffs a big breath, and looks away - and a solid feeling of dread settles in his stomach. He’s had it good for so long - with Jody, and Cathy, and even Peggy and Anne-Marie, in a way - and he’s always known it wouldn’t last, and that it would ruin him, and-

“The word is baby,” Jody says eventually, tilting her head to one side and pinning him with her gaze, eyes narrowed in consideration. All thoughts leave Johnny’s head in a moment, to be replaced with vague, foggy panic. “Not-” she squeezes his hand until it relaxes a little and ceases crushing hers, “not right now, Johnny, jesus. Come back.”

The fog recedes and he musters up a gentle pat of her fingers in apology for squashing them in his paw. His hands are so much bigger and stronger than hers, tanned and weatherbeaten where hers are pale and delicate with flour worked into the nailbeds, and he oughtta be more careful with them. With her, and with - with the word, if there is to be one.

He can’t tell how he feels about that, in the moment.

“Sorry,” he says ruefully, offering her a clumsy, lopsided smile. “I weren’t - anyway. You go on.”

Jody takes a deep breath and nods firmly, gaze fixed at some point on his left shoulder. “Alright, I will. Johnny, I’ve spent the day cutting hay with a whole herd of the town’s kids, an’ it’s occurred to me, I want one.”

“I’ll get you one,” Johnny says on instinct, like he does with everything Jody says she wants however unrealistic, from hair ribbons to haywains to the entire Union Pacific Railroad. And then she raises an eyebrow at him, and he remembers how that’s what they’re talking about, actually, and to deflect from this he nods his head at one of the kids pelting past on little chubby legs. “That one’ll do - will he suit ya?”

Jody’s face relaxes into amusement and she huffs, leaning forward to press her forehead into his sternum. He must stink of sweat, and wants to tell her to shift in case he does, but he doesn’t want her to move like he doesn’t want to lose his right arm and she doesn’t seem to care. “Sweetheart,” she says into his shirt, “you ain’t never gonna be friends with my ma if you go about giving her grandchildren by stealin’ em.”

“Not even a little one?” Johnny says, tilting his head to catch her eye and watch her giggle. “‘Sides,” he says, considering it with a slight frown, “not sure she’s over fond on my givin’ her grandkids the other way, neither.”

Jody leans back, smiling. “Only ‘cause we ain’t married,” she corrects brightly, and then falters back into seriousness, biting her lip. Johnny squeezes her hands in careful encouragement, for he feels (fears) they have reached the crux of the matter. “Johnny, I - I wanna have kids. Not today, or tomorrow, or maybe even a year or two yet, but I want ‘em. An’ - I know we’ve not ever been traditional, but my ma - my ma really is gonna disown me if I ain’t married when I have ‘em, so.” She shrugs, fingers tapping in agitation against his palm and her gaze fixed back over his shoulder. “I’m not saying now, but I am sayin’ someday, and if that don’t fit with you someday then - I gotta find someone else. An’ I don’t know how that someday fits with you and Cathy, or Peggy and Anne-Marie, or - or I guess just with you, but I’m sayin’... I don’t mind, I guess, so long as you do right by the kids, and we’re…” She trails off.

“Miss Jody Masham,” Johnny says solemnly, raising her hands between his own, “are you askin’ me to marry you someday?”

She meets his gaze at last, frowning shrewdly at him. “Depends,” she says shortly. “Are you gonna say yes?”

Jody hasn’t never said she loves him. Johnny doesn’t need her to: he knows she does, on account of how she smiles at him and teases him and trounces him at cards to win kisses five nights in seven on lamplit nights where her ma can’t see them. And he bandies about words of love to everyone and everything, enough for the both of them, and they’re well-settled into the kind of long-standing devotion that doesn’t need professing very much. She’s told him before that she’s no good at romancing others (though personally Johnny reckons she’s not bad) ‘cause of how she can’t be sentimental with them; she loves them, and they gotta figure that out, or they ain’t trying hard enough.

Johnny told her he loved her on their second meeting, but then, he’s like that. Always has been. And it doesn’t mean he loves her any less, or any more, than she does him; he’s just got an awful lot of love to share, and she doesn’t mind him sharing it.

He could be married, he thinks. He and Jody could do it, and do it well, and marriage was always waiting for him somewhere - now that he’s not looking at it down the barrel of some angry pa’s shotgun, and without the threat of that too, it looks mighty appealing. They’ll have to get a house, of course; somehow stop renting, and own outright, but how hard can that be? He’ll get her fine printed calico, and build a table for her sewing machine, and Ainsel will school the kids. Finn and Tommy can teach them to ride and make great pets of them, and this time years from now Noel will have them harvesting hay neatly under her stern eye, and Will can bring them hognoses cradled gently in a hat.

He could live in that future, and live long and well.

Johnny pretends to think about it, but lets his grin slip through so’s she knows he’s teasing. “Well, you ain’t hardly romancin’ me.”

She purses her lips against a real smile and uses their hand grip to punch him gently in the chest. “I brought you johnny-cakes, special,” she objects, and he laughs. “Look,” she says firmly, “I - care about you, alright? Quite a bit, actually, and so you’re just - gonna have to deal with that.”

Johnny ducks in close and presses his forehead to hers, beaming. “An’ I love you too,” he croons to make her blush, and then ducks under her bonnet and kisses her softly. He can do that, now - here before the town, on the day of the hay harvest and cattle drive, for they are, someday, to be married.

Jody pulls back, smiling secretly in the corners of her eyes, and strokes a hand through his hair. “I always forget,” she says absently, eyes on her fingers as they comb and tangle in his curls, “how nice your hair is without your hat on.”

Johnny frowns, puts a hand up to his own head. “Where is my hat?”

“It fell off when you leaned back to see me,” Jody supplies. “You didn’t seem to notice.”

“Oh.” He doesn’t remember that.

Jody smiles with resigned amusement. “Lord help me,” she sighs, “for I’m marryin’ a moron.”

Johnny puffs up in indignation. “You don’t have to.” Of course she doesn’t - Jody Masham is the prettiest girl in the county - the west - the world - and could have any man she pleases.

“Naw,” she says, rubbing her thumb along his chin. “I’m gonna.”

[scxrlettwxtches]

a marriage story | lee minho

Genre: fluff, angst, best friends to lovers

Warnings: none, except it get a little spicy at the end ;)

Word Count: ~6.0k

Description: Your incredibly rich best friend, Lee Minho, barges into your apartment asking you to marry him. You say yes, of course, because what could go wrong?

A/N: i actually had a lot of fun writing this! hope everyone is safe amidst all this coronavirus chaos! <3 love y’all, and as always, my ask box is always open if you ever want to be friends! 

“I need you to marry me.”

Your best friend, Lee Minho, has walked into your crappy apartment spewing random shit before, but this was by far the dumbest, most crackhead sentence to ever come out of his mouth. With his Louis Vuitton coat, a thin 100% pure cashmere sweater, the very inconspicuous Gucci belt and his hand-embroidered pants, he looked almost as if he’d fallen into the wrong dimension when he stepped into your living quarters, the walls fading and all the furniture looking one push away from falling apart. 

You glanced up at him tiredly, “Don’t questions like these come with a fancy dinner? I’m feeling a little cheated.”

Minho rolled his eyes, plopping himself down across from you at your coffee table without so much as asking. Damn him. After four years of knowing each other, he walked around your apartment like he owned it.

“Is that a ‘yes,’ then?” he asked, reaching for your coffee mug to take a sip.

“It’s a ‘please tell me more ‘cause I’m confused,’” you snatched away your cup suspiciously, “And you’re not getting any of this coffee until you explain yourself.”

Minho rubbed his eyes tiredly, letting out a sigh as he began, “So, I’m getting old.”

You snorted, “Well, we all know that. Jisung’s signing you up for a senior citizen discount already.”

“Don’t be fucking rude, your elder is speaking,” he snapped as he rolled his eyes, “My parents have been trying to pair me up with these potential partners, and I’m just sick of it.”

“So, you think the solution to your problem is to marry me?” you raised an eyebrow, quietly trying to gauge whether your friend was just playing a dumb prank on you, which he was prone to doing.

Minho nodded enthusiastically, “I’ve already thought everything through, and I think it’s a brilliant idea.”

“Your parents were about to flip tables when they found out you were friends with someone like me. Do you honestly think they’ll let you marry me, too?”

“Who says they’ll have any control over it?” Minho scoffed with apparent disdain, “We’ll get all the paperwork done before they even have any idea what’s going on. Besides,” he added with a troublesome gleam in his eyes, “it’s going to be absolutely hilarious to see them lose their shit over this.”

You ran through multiple scenarios in your head, and the image of Minho’s ridiculously conservative parents reacting to their top-of-the-academy, sole-inheritor-of-the-company son marrying a high school dropout that made a living by doing odd jobs was admittedly pretty funny.

“Okay,” you said, leaning towards him like you meant business, “say I actually think this is a pretty fucking wild idea and I’m down for it, what’s in it for me?”

Minho shrugged, “You’d have access to all the funds in my bank account, along with all the inheritance I’d get from my parents.”

“You really think your parents are going to keep you as the sole heir to all that cash they’ve got after the stunt you’re gonna pull?” you asked doubtfully, taking a slow sip of your coffee.

“Doesn’t matter at this point. I already hold more than half the shares of their company, which--” he added with a proud smirk, “will eventually be my company, whether they like it or not.”

You made a noise of delight, “Lee Minho, that is—without a doubt—the sexiest thing you’ve ever said.”

Minho rolled his eyes, “You’re such a gold digger.”

“Say it louder for the people in the back,” you grinned, and not even your best friend could hide the amused smirk on his face.

“So, are you in?”

“You mean, am I going to marry my best friend to piss off his parents and share his money?” you fluttered your eyelashes prettily, placing your coffee mug on the table with a finality as you smiled.

“Shall we sign the papers today?”

.

The real wedding was a quiet, secretive affair, done discreetly under the noses of Minho’s disturbingly watchful parents. You would think that a man who’s earned his degree in business at twenty-two and practically ran the family company by twenty-five would have some freedom, but that wasn’t the case for your best friend--or, should you say, fiancé.

Only a handful of people were in attendance. On Minho’s side, he had his best friends from the Academy, Hwang Hyunjin and Lee Felix, both of whom were incredibly supportive of your whole arrangement. Although they were initially against the idea of Minho getting married at all (they still held on to that high school bachelor mentality), their minds changed the moment they found out the bride-to-be was actually you.

(“Oh, then everything’s fine,” Hyunjin had laughed when Minho explained the situation, “Y/N can keep him under control.”

“She’s already been doing that since the day they met,” Felix snickered, raising a half empty glass of beer at you and Minho as he spoke sarcastically, “To the happy couple!”)

On your side, you had your most trusted sidekick, Han Jisung, who you’ve known for almost the better half of your life. Since both of you had grown up together trying to wade through incredibly trying financial situations, he was more than a little upset when you managed to snag yourself a rich husband before he did.

(“You bitch,” Jisung had spit in mock anger when you showed him your glittering diamond ring, and pointing his mug of beer at an unimpressed Minho, he wailed, “Not only did you have to get a rich husband, you had to get the hottest one, too?”)

The other person present was your lovely roommate, Bae Joohyun, who watched the ceremony with unprecedented glee. She was more than happy to keep the whole apartment to herself, kicking you out especially quickly when she found out you were in for an upgrade, not a downgrade. 

(“Where are you moving? Downtown? The mansion suburbs?” she had a smile that could send anyone on their knees groveling at her feet, “Let me know when you ever need a friend over, babe!”

“You just want to see the house, don’t you.”

“Honey,” she eyed you critically, “with the amount of money you’re going to have soon, I might just ask you to buy me the house next to yours!”)

As you stood at the altar, wearing in a short, white dress you had grabbed from a local thrift store, Minho looked fiendishly handsome in his black pants and his expensive jacket, holding both of your hands as the ceremony went on. 

The priest sped through his vows, obviously coming to the understanding that this was not your conventional wedding, “Do you, Y/N, take Lee Minho to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do,” you shared a quick, knowing smile with your best friend.

“And do you, Lee Minho, take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“Forever and always,” he swore solemnly. Snickers erupted from the small audience, and you rolled your eyes, tired of Minho’s disgustingly cheesy one liners. 

Not even the priest could hide a smile as he stepped back, “You may now kiss the bride.”

Minho raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, a gesture that implied that the ball was in your court. Up to you, he spoke wordlessly, waiting for your reply. You knew that Minho never had any qualms about being overly touching with people he didn’t have feelings with, which meant a lot of one night stands and a lot of suffering on your part when you’d try to find him at parties.

To be totally honest with yourself, you didn’t not want to kiss Minho. As Jisung has said, he was the hottest wealthy bachelor on the market, and as of five seconds ago, he was also now your lawfully wedded husband. And you’d be an idiot if you didn’t reap all the benefits to the fullest.

But at the same time, this was Lee Minho. Your baddest bitch. Your #1 on speed dial. The person you’d call if you were stranded at 3 a.m. The only person you’d trust with your top secret ice cream stash. 

Would you ruin things? Would things become better than they already were?

There was no way you could know at the time, so you did what your heart told you to do, and gave Minho a small smile of consent. You saw surprise flash across his face for a split second, as if he’d expected you to refuse, but it was gone before you could even blink. 

With a gentleness you never knew he possessed, Minho moved his hand to the back of your neck pulled you towards him, his lips brushing yours in a delicate, chaste kiss. Joohyun squealed like a kid in a candy store, taking a billion pictures on her phone. Jisung let out a scandalous gasp. Hyunjin and Felix fake gagged, slipping of the pews dramatically. When Minho pulled away, he let out an awkward chuckle as he asked.

“Disappointing?”

“Yes, I want to file for a divorce immediately,” you joked, but in all honesty, your lips felt like they burned after that split second of contact, and your heart felt tight as your brain reeled.

You didn’t even know Minho could kiss like that. Not like those passionate, drunken makeouts that you’d always find him engaging in at least twice a week. 

But like he wanted it to mean something.

.

As expected, Minho’s parents flipped over heaven and hell when they recieved a beautiful handwritten invitation to your wedding, written by their dearest son. As expected, they pulled every string and every connection they had to stop the wedding, to quietly remove you from the picture. And as expected, Minho and you had already ensured that this would be practically impossible. 

The wedding was lavish, extravagant, and everything that you had not expected to be married with. Your husband booked the most beautiful cathedral in the city, hired celebrity chefs for the banquet (“Do you want Gordon Ramsay? I could get Gordon Ramsay.” “Minho, please don’t.”), ordered a custom-made cake by an award-winning baker, and to top it all off, he refused to get you anything less than the most expensive wedding dress that was available.

It felt like the whole city had attended the big ceremony, all the church pews filled to the brim to get a glimpse of who in world managed to tie the knot with the richest, most handsome bachelor in the public eye. Minho’s parents sat in the front, obviously fuming but slapping on saccharine smiles for all the press and cameras that were present. As much as they hated their son’s decisions, any negative rumors could impact the integrity of their company, and if there was anything they cared about more than reputation, it was money. 

The ceremony was as dramatic as the two of you could make it, Minho flashing his most dazzling, show-business smile and you doing your best to look absolutely enamored by his charm. When the vows were through and it was time for the big spectacle, Minho wasted no time in sliding a firm arm around your waist, pulling you in for a passionate kiss. The cameras flashed and clicked furiously, and as you responded with just as much intensity, you knew you would be on the front cover of every newspaper for the next week. Maybe even the next month.

As the two of you stood facing the audience, trying to blink out your watery eyes from all the bright flashes and loud noises, Minho’s hand around your waist loosened and turned into something more comforting than passionate. Sparing a glance at you, he broke his character for a moment to whisper worriedly.

“Is this okay?” 

You were strangely touched, because you had already agreed to everything that was going to happen from then on, and Minho wasn’t obligated to show his vulnerable, gently side to the rest of the world, even if only for a split second. But he was, just for you.

“I’m okay,” you smiled with confidence, tugging at his tie to give the crowd another spectacle to coo at as you pressed a loving kiss on his cheek. Minho looked a little startled, since you really weren’t a touchy person, but when his smile returned, it looked more relaxed, more genuine than it was before.

Then, his smile grew mischievous, and he pulled you snug to him once again as his lips brushed against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Let’s give them a little more to talk about, then.”

.

“Babe, do you have a honeymoon destination that you’ve always dreamed of going to?” Minho called from the couch, making you stop in your drawing. You were working on a fanart commission from a follower on your Twitter, and you sat criss-crossed at your desk, having scribbled furiously for last couple hours.

“What honeymoon?” you frowned, putting down your digital pen and spinning around to look at your husband.

Minho blinked, “Ours, of course. Do you really think I’d let us get married without going on a honeymoon?”

“Well, I mean,” Shrugging your shoulders helplessly, you floundered over your words, “we’ve convinced the whole world that we’re in love already, right? You don’t have to waste your money on this.”

“I’m not wasting my money,” Minho said, looking vaguely offended, “I have money to spare, and I’m going to spend it on the person I care about. That’s not called wasting.”

Glaring at you pointedly before looking back down at his laptop, he continued, “I always said that I was going to take you on a long-ass vacation one day, because God knows you haven’t had one of those since you were born.”

“Didn’t need to come for my neck like that, but okay,” you muttered, under your breath.

Minho definitely heard you, but decidedly elected to ignore you as he grinned, “Since I’m now your lawfully wedded husband, I’m bonded by our vows to treat you to a honeymoon that you’ll never forget.”

You scoffed, “Where was this treatment when you’d come and eat all my cereal at 3 fucking a.m.?”

“Hey. It’s ‘happy wife, happy life’, not ‘happy best friend, happy life.’”

“Whatever, dork,” Rolling your eyes, you got up from your chair and plopped down on the couch beside him. He threw a casual arm over your shoulders and you leaned towards him to glance at the laptop. This type of touching had become natural ever since the two of you moved in together. You would say it was all just to keep up an act, but both you and Minho knew that wasn’t true.

On the screen, you saw pictures of tropical beaches, private island resorts, anything and everything that screamed luxury was there. After scrolling for a while, they all started to blend together, and you began to realize that you were a little out of your depth.

“Why don’t you just pick, Minho?” you suggested, doing your best to shirk the responsibility.

“You don’t wanna?”

You gestured helplessly, “I mean--I don’t mind---but I’m just,” you swallowed, “This isn’t really my forte. It’s yours.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know how to live this life, Minho! I could’ve never afforded any of this until two months ago, and I still don’t know the in and outs, what’s good and what’s bad,” you rambled, catching your husband off guard as he listened to you in silence, “So, I’m sorry if I’m being a little indecisive. I just don't know where to even start.”

Understanding flashed in Minho’s eyes, and to his credit, he didn’t rise up to your sudden frustrations, taking it all in without complaint. You knew he was doing his best, you knew he was trying to give you things that you couldn’t have before, you knew he was trying to make you comfortable. And suddenly, guilt flooded through your veins.

Stammering, you looked down at your legs, “Shit, Minho, that was--”

“Don’t be sorry,” he replied briskly, grabbing your hands to get you to look at him, “You tell me whenever I’m being insensitive, and I’ll do the same for you. Is that fair?” 

You stared at him incredulously as you said, “You’re surprisingly mature about this.”

“Well,” he flashed the gold band on his fourth finger, something that you still couldn’t quite believe he was wearing, “we’re together for the long run, so there’s no reason for us not to set some ground rules.”

“Unless, of course,” he added hastily, risking a tentative smile, “you end up divorcing me even before our six month anniversary. I really hope you don’t, if only just to save me some face.”

Punching his chest halfheartedly, you spoke warmly, “Idiot,” you chastised, “I wouldn’t agree to something like this just to walk out on you.” Minho hummed in acknowledgement, and the two of you sat together in a warm, comfortable silence. 

“Do you have any requests, at least?” Minho finally asked, uncharacteristically gentle.

You thought for a moment, looking back to find the one crucial thing you’ve lacked throughout your life, something you’ve always wanted but could never have. A long moment passed, and as you pressed closer to Minho, you answered.

“Somewhere where I could just breathe and be away from the real world.”

Minho chuckled, his breath tickling the hairs on your face, “I’ll see what I can do.”

.

As you soon found out, Minho “seeing what he could do” basically meant a two-week vacation on a private resort island owned by one of Minho’s company partners. He lived up to his promise as well, and the travel was more seamless and relaxed than you could’ve imagined it to be. 

Following your request to be more secluded from regular life, Minho booked one of the more remote villas on the island, one that stood above the shallow ocean water, jutting out from the beaches. It was connected to the land by a short wooden bridge, and it provided you with all the privacy you needed.

Minho seemed to enjoy the vacation as much as you did, and the laptop he’d brought with him for work purposes was left abandoned in the bedroom safe. The two of you spent time out on the porch watching the tide, on the couch watching movies, or even in the crystal clear water below, splashing each other with the ferocity of two aggressive cats. 

In some moments, in some fleeting moments, when the two of you are sprawled over each other, doubling over in laughter, or when he grabbed your waist to lift you out of the water, stopping your flurry of attacks, that you genuinely felt as if the two of you were a married couple. Not a pair of best friends trying to make the best of a situation, but a real married couple. 

Of course, as antisocial as the two of you were, you were eventually dragged by your whining husband to leave the comfort of your villa and venture out to the small, tourist town near the center of the resort. Apparently, he had a meeting with the owner of this particular resort to discuss further trade deals, and because Minho was secretly a big baby, he didn’t want to go to the town without you. 

You didn’t want anything to do with the meeting; all the politics and passive aggressive forms of speech always put you on edge, so you decided to explore the town while you waited for him to finish. It was an incredibly quaint little set of buildings, mostly boutique shops and small restaurants, and you found that you actually quite liked its atmosphere. Whipping out your phone, you snapped a couple quick pictures of the town’s buildings for some artistic inspiration.

A half hour had gone by, and the island’s tropical heat had begun to get to you. Rubbing your throat absentmindedly, your eyes fell upon a bar at the corner of the road, with a quirky, lopsided sign that read, “Christopher’s Laboratory.”

Smiling at the rather original name, you made your way inside, the door ringing a bell as you walked in. There were only one or two guests sitting at random tables, which didn’t surprise you. After all, who would be at a bar in the middle of a sunny afternoon?

Deciding to sit at the bar, your eyes darted to a man that made his way from the back of the restaurant to behind the bar table, a charming smile framing his face. Being the only new customer and the only one sitting there, he stopped in front of you, leaning over the table slightly.

“Hey! I’m Chris,” he introduced himself, and you couldn’t help but be a little enamored by his strong Australian accent.

“I’m Y/N,” you answered, looking around with a smile, “This is a cute little place.” 

Chris’ smile was infectious, “Right? I built a lot of it myself, and I do have to say I’m quite proud of this baby,” Reaching for a towel beside him, he began wiping a glass absentmindedly, no doubt prepping for whatever drink you were about to order.

“Have you been on this island long?” he asked, “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

“Ah, actually,” you blushed rather self consciously, “I’ve been here for a week or so, but we didn’t leave our villa until today.”

“We?” Chris caught the word with a knowing smirk, “Here with a lover?”

Lifting your left hand off the table, you flashed your diamond ring Beyonce style, “Married, actually.”

If Chris was surprised, he barely batted an eye, placing the glass down with a finality, “Congratulations, then. Have you decided on what you want to drink?”

“I’ll have a mint julep,” you answered, merely going to your typical drink. Not too strong or heavy, especially since you weren’t the drink-till-you’re-wasted type. That was more Jisung’s style.

“Coming right up,” your bartender got to work straight away, moving around to get all the necessary components for your order. Although you don’t frequent the bar, you could immediately tell that this man was good at his craft. Chris moved with any ounce of hesitation in his body, as if he knew exactly what to do and how to do it without any mistakes.

Already having warmed up to Chris’ personality, you decided to get to know him a little better, “So, how does one end up permanently living on a resort island?”

The man laughed as he poured a small amount of bourbon into the glass, “Good question. I’m honestly not quite sure myself, but it all started with wanting to get away from home, I guess.”

“And why did you do that?”

Chris shrugged, “Too many expectations. Too many standards. I got sick of it, so I left and just ended up here.”

“You just ended up here?” you repeated doubtfully before pointing out, “This isn’t exactly cheap real estate, just so you know.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” he laughed, “I have a mini aneurysm every time any of the neighbors mention how high their down payment was,” With practiced ease, he slid your drink onto the table front of you, placing a dainty umbrella in it for good measure, “I actually won this property in a stupid bet with a good friend of mine.”

“You moved your entire life because of a bet you made with your friend?” you couldn’t believe it. This was the sort of light-footed, go-with-the-wind lifestyle that you’d always admired, always yearned for. 

Chris shrugged, “It was a nice change of scenery, and I found that I liked it more than I had originally assumed, so I stayed.”

Sipping your cocktail, took a long look at the man in front of you. He was undoubtedly handsome, but it was different from the untouchable beauty your husband held. With Chris, there was a sort of ruggedness, a sort of battle-hardened look in his eyes, like he’d done everything in the world and survived.

“Since I told you a little about myself, tell me about you,” Chris grinned, popping a beer for himself as he glanced at you intently, “I assume you just got married?”

“Yup,” you replied, rubbing your wedding ring absentmindedly, “We’re actually on our honeymoon right now.” 

“You’re staying at that nearby resort? Dang, you guys must have some serious money.”

“He does,” you clarified, trying not to sound a little bitter, “He’s got the money.”

Chris seemed to understand, becuase his brow furrowed slightly, “But if you guys are married, then it’s technically your money, too.”

“I know, I know,” you said hastily, waving your hands in denial as you looked down in shame, “He’s never showed off his money or made me feel poor or anything like that. It’s just, sometimes I can’t help but feel--”

“Like you don’t belong,” Chris finished softly, his voice gentle, “Like you don’t deserve him even if he chose you.”

Looking up in surprise, you realized that the man had grown rather quiet, his eyes faraway as if thinking back to a sad memory. Something must’ve happened to him, too, something that had to do with money, love, and disappointment. Feeling bad, you put your hand over his, trying to give him some form of comfort.

The restaurant bell chimed, breaking your moment with Chris as you whipped around to see Minho standing at the door with a dark expression. He looked tense, like a cable ready to snap, and you wondered whether the meeting had gone poorly.

“Lee Minho, is that you?” Chris called out, and your head spinned. Chris knew Minho?

The irritated expression on Minho’s face fell for a moment, as he spluttered in equal surprise, “Bang Chan?” He moved forward, as if coming to talk to the man, but then he stopped short, his expression freezing like someone had just slapped him.

Confused, you followed his line of sight, and with a feeling of utter horror pooling in your gut, you realized he was staring at your hand, the one still placed over Chris’ on the table. You know exactly what went through his head, and you couldn’t berate yourself enough for doing what you did. Now, Minho didn’t look just irritated anymore. 

He looked furious.

Giving you one last icy glare, one that chilled your heart and almost sent you to tears, he spun around, flinging the door open with hatred as you scrambled to get out of your seat.

“Wait, Minho--”

Without so much as a glance back, he slammed the door shut behind him, leaving you to stand in the middle of the bar in utter shock. The thoughts in your brain were a jumbled disaster, but one thought stood out above the rest.

You had to fix this. 

Turning around to look at Chris--or Bang Chan--you began to speak quickly, “Chris, I’m sorry, but--”

“Yes, yes, go,” he replied just as urgently, looking at you intensely, “Don’t worry. You didn’t do anything wrong. If I know anything about Minho, he’s just a little jealous.”

You nodded, grateful for his understanding. As your hand fell on the doorknob, you couldn’t help but look back and ask one more question

“How do you guys even know each other?”

An amused smile crept at the corner of the man’s lips as he answered, “You haven’t guessed yet? I won this property from Minho, all those years ago. We went to the same academy when we were young.”

The idea that Minho actually gave away expensive property on a whim felt like the most Minho thing to do, and you couldn’t help but chuckle despite the anxiety still racking your brain. With one final look, you ran out of the bar, setting off after your husband.

.

By the time you had returned to your villa, sweaty and exhausted from running around the town trying to find Minho, it was already sundown, the sky a beautiful plethora of reds, blues, and purples. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t find Minho anywhere, but you had a feeling that Minho would be in the room.

The villa was dark, much of the rooms pitch black as you searched for your husband. Then, as you made it to the master bedroom, your heart sank as you caught sight of a lumpy figure curled up in the white sheets, head turned away from you.

You knew Minho wasn’t asleep. A classic businessman, you often stayed up with him into the waning hours of the morning, and you knew Minho couldn’t physically fall asleep anytime before 1 a.m. Still, he didn’t move a muscle when you walked into the room, even though you were sure he heard you.

The bedsheets crinkled as you sat on the bed beside him, silently mulling over what to say, how you could fix this situation. As gently as you could, you brushed your hand over his shoulder as you murmured, “Minho.”

No response came for a long torturous moment, and then a voice croaked, hoarse and tired, “You finally came back.”

“Of course I came back,” you frowned, “I was looking for you.”

“Oh, really?” The poison in Minho’s tone grated against your ears, “You sure you weren’t hanging out with your lover?” 

You grew annoyed, retorting snappishly, “Okay, you need to grow up. I know you saw me holding hands with Chris, and I’m sorry about that, but--”

“So, it’s Chris to you now?” Minho spat bitterly, suddenly sitting up to glare at you, “If I didn’t find you at the bar, were you ever going to tell me anything after? Or were you just going to keep this going for my money as you run off with him?”

“Minho, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I don’t and won’t ever have any intentions of having lovers,” you said, utterly appalled by the idea, “We’re married, aren’t we?”

“Are we?” he muttered, looking down at the bed and away from your face, “You don’t need to pretend. This isn’t even a real marriage.”

It felt like a slap in the face. Flinching, you forced the unsteadiness out of your voice as you asked, “Then, why do you still wear that ring?”

Minho looked up, surprise flashing across his face as you continued, “We’ve been staying in this villa for a week now. Nobody’s here but us, and you still wear that ring every day. Why?” 

“I-”

“No. Don’t you dare say you’re pretending, because you’re not,” you seethed, all your frustrations pouring out like a waterfall, “You wouldn’t invest in my art, you wouldn’t take me to fancy restaurants or buy me pretty things on a whim, you wouldn’t have been jealous if you didn’t care, so why are you so determined to act like this marriage doesn’t mean anything to you?”

“It does!” Minho finally said loudly, and then looking ashamed that he’d raised his voice.

“Of course it means something to me,” he murmured, “But I know it doesn’t mean as much to you, and I can’t bear the thought of knowing that we’re in this for different reasons.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re in this for the money, we both knew it from the start,” Minho said, looking at you tiredly, “And I have nothing against you for it. That’s how I convinced you in the first place, and it’s a perfectly reasonable reason to marry me.” 

“But,” he continued, “at the same time, I’ve always known this can’t be permanent. You’ll find someone you actually love, someone you’d actually want to marry because of them and not their money, and when that happens, I don’t want to tie you down.”

Minho laughed without humor, “I’m sorry about earlier. I really did get jealous, even though I’m in no position to. I just saw you with Chan, and you two looked so perfect together, and I just knew that I was going to lose you. I knew it would happen eventually, but I’d always hoped it wouldn’t be so soon.”

“How could you say something like that?” you stammered, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, “How could you think that I just married you for the money?”

Minho blinked, “But, we’d said--”

“Fuck that,” you said furiously, causing Minho’s jaw to grow slack, “You know, for someone with two degrees from Harvard, you can be so naive.”

“Alright, there’s no need to be snippy--”

“It wasn’t just about the money,” you interupted loudly, shutting Minho up, “Yes, I was dirt poor and yes, your money was part of it, but I’d never agree to marry someone who I didn’t like as a person.”

Minho looked frustrated, running a hand through his soft, brown hair as he said, “I know you like me, Y/N. I mean, we’re best friends for fucks sake, but you’re going to find someone else, someone you care about more--”

“I care about you more than anyone else in the world,” you spoke firmly, without an ounce of doubt, “And that’s never going to change.”

For once in his life, Minho was at a loss for words. He stared at you with a mixture of awe and surprise, and then, without a moment of hesitation, he crashed his lips into yours, desperately and lovingly.

You responded, tilting your head to a more comfortable position as you crawled towards him. Minho understood your intentions immediately, and his hands pulled you onto his lap until you were practically straddling him, your body close to his. 

Neither of you could stop, his hands now roaming around your back and yours nestled in his hair. He coaxed your mouth open gently, pulling back to nibble at your bottom lip, and when you gave him access, he kissed you twice as furiously, with so much passion that one would’ve thought that this was his last day on Earth.

As his lips slowly trailed to your neck, drawing out your light gasps, you found that you wanted more. There was an unsatiable hunger that Minho had pulled out of you, and you found your hands roaming up and down his chest, now frantically trying to unbutton his loose black shirt.

It was at this moment that Minho pulled back, his lips stopping their trail of kisses down your neck as he panted, “Y/N, wait.”

You froze, immediately stopping in your task as you looked up at him, “What’s wrong?” your heart was still pounding in your ribcage, but now you were scared, slowly trying to distance yourself from Minho as you asked, “Do you want to stop? If you want, I could forget this ever--”

“Fuck, don’t you dare,” Minho said with an undercurrent of a growl as he kept you on his lap, his hands tightening as they gripped the back of your shirt, “I’ve wanted this for far too long to stop or forget.”

“Then, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he explained, now stroking your back gently to ease your visible anxiety, “I just want to make sure you know what you’re doing.”

“Well, I was trying to take your shirt off,” you retorted, your face still hot and your lips swollen, “but I was rudely interrupted.”

Minho giggled, nuzzling his head into your shoulder, “Idiot, you know what I mean,” he lifted his head up to look at you again, and behind the clear desire in his eyes you could see the worry, “Please don’t do this and tell me next morning that it didn’t mean anything to you.”

You sighed. Your hands gently cupping his face, you placed a light, feathery kiss on his nose as you answered.

“Never.” 

.

a/n: maybe a pt. 2? :)

[cloviaglade]

THE CRIMSON FLOWER ROUTE CORPORATE UNION AU

Yeah it came to me in a dream shared it with a friend and she said I should inflict it on the world so here we go

Warning: It's super long but I broke it up into chunks

(note not all members of the house fall into the categories listed also I'm not the best with corporate terms and positions. Also this was made for fun and isn't that serious)

The houses

The Black eagles generally were in accounting or sales. They dealt with a lot of the customers firsthand and were considered expendable

Blue lions where mostly in HR or IT

Golden deer mostly worked in maintenance and public relations.

Staff and church members are members of the board. Flayn has her position on the board despite her age because nepotism

The Seiros Co:

It's a large company that provide a large array of services and products that promote physical and emotional well-being. The company started out with good intentions but soon became a corporate monster

The company provides a host of benefits to its employees including on site housing, on site restraunts, on site pools gyms ect. They even have the best insurance on the planet. They even have horse therapy.

However they have to pay premiums on the health insurance, their rent is docted from their pay, they have to pay for on-site facilities, and those living on site are heavily encouraged to work overtime.

a lot of this is justified by cover every single health expense and days of for minor colds. Many employees seek mental health care more often than they seek physical care.

The on site living conditions vary heavily. Most are just a small white room with a single bed and a dresser. No visitors after certain hours and forget about outside visitors. However rumors are spreading that the board members have spacious luxury apartments.

The pay without all the benefits is not a wage you could live off of. But with the rent for these rooms doct from your pay you couldn't reasonably save up for different arrangements.

The strike begins:

Edelguard was finally fed up watching her team struggling. She hears constantly about how her workers are not making enough. How they have to scrape because they needed new clothes or shoes. Or worse how Petra wasn't able to support her sick grandfather

She hired a lawyer Hubert to look into information about their contracts and compare everything to labor laws. She needed to know how much of this was legal and if there was anything to be done about it.

Huberts lawfirm dealt with several lawsuits in the past. They are considered ruthless in court however media painted them out to be money hungry and demented

As expected, it was legal (mostly due to lack of regulation for these types of benefits) but really unfair, So Hubert suggested a strike. His firm would handle all the legal matters as they prepared a lawsuit and to unionize.

Edelguard was careful to organize it in private. Nothing was emailed. Nothing to tract them. Flyers were handwritten and posted in the dorms inviting members to secret meeting on slow hours.

Roles

What everyone did on the day of the strike/position they were in the office.

Black eagles

Edalguard: head of sales- she got everyone in her department and many others in different departments to simply stop working for the day when she commanded everyone to stop working via megaphone. She suck in hubert and went to a private meeting room to set up a list of demands.

Hubert: head of Vestra lawfirm- he snuck past security with the help of Edelguard. He brought a laptop and a phone with Hotspot so he could video call the rest of his attorneys from inside the conference room. Once the strike was in full swing he toured the place with Edelguard gathering evidence.

Ferdinand: senior sale manager has the highest customer satisfaction - when the strike was well underway he sent a mass email to everyone in every department including the CEO and founder herself in a very professional tone about how there is a strike. Lornez replied immediately and they when to the breakroom to enjoy tea while on the clock.

Lindhart: IT software specialist - first thing he did was turn off all the bans on websites. Everyone could go on whatever website they wanted to. He left the download blocker up and other safety precautions in place. Others could looks at memes and scroll through social media ect. He then returns to his dorm and takes a paid nap.

Caspar: manager in accounting slow but very accurate and a real team player - he hated the no pets policy with a burning passion so he let all the stray and feral cats that hang around the building in through one of the side doors. They stayed mostly on the ground floor and a few made a mess under the desks. He played with the strays with a few of his co-workers.

Bernadette: customer service rep. - she hated the calls filled with angry people. She clocked out, disconnected he phone, ran into her dorm and screamed into her pillow until calm. Once she calmed down enough she did some embroidery.

Dorothea: sales representative- has the highest upsale rate - she gets into her car and just leaves. She is still clocked in. Nobody knows where she went. Some say she met with a lover, others say she went on a binge. Nobody really knows.

Petra: bilingual sales rep. - she signed her phone off and immediately called up her family overseas. She proceeded to catch up and talk with her family for hours. She rarely got to speak with them due to the difference in timezones.

Blue lions

Dimitri: head of IT - he doesn't actually know much about IT and has little intrest in it. He got the job because his dad recommended him. With the outside website ban lifted and the lost of control of his department he frantically tried to get everything under control

Dedue: cyber security and protocol educator - although the bans are lifted he is still concerned about a cyber attack. He is frantically try to restore the ban but it seems like lindhart deleted the code.

Felix: hardware specialists - he was the one who should've been promoted into Dimitri's position and is a bit smug about how everything is falling apart in front of his boss. He bypasses the download blocker and plays minecraft on the company computer. Dimitri is too busy to notice that felix isn't helping.

Sylvain: HR rep. - he knew from the start that working conditions were shit. He was tired of trying to raise moral by doing everything but paying the employees more, giving them time off, and reasonable working hours. He went to the break room where Ferdinand and Lornez were having tea and ate a bunch of the snacks the company was reselling at super high prices then faxed a picture of his ass and balls to rhea herself as a letter of resignation.

Ashe: new hire in IT - was called down to the first floor to replace a keyboard a cat peed on. Found caspar was the reason the cats were let in. Caspar then persuaded him to play with the cats instead of shooing them out. 3 hours later he completely forgot about the strike and clocked out per usual. He completely forgot about the strike

Mercedes: head of HR - she meets with the board and discussed what to do about the strikers. They can't force them to go home since everyone striking lives on site and has every right to be there. No significant damages is being done to property. The only loss is from those not working (and a keyboard covered in cat piss and $35 worth of snacks) Mercedes is forced to find a way to get them to stop but in a way that doesn't really change anything. She leaves the meeting when it is over clocks out and returns to her modest house she calls out sick for the next couple of months.

Annette: HR rep - she tries to stop the chaos on the floor and to convince everyone to return to work. She is ignored. She wanted to ask for a megaphone to help gain attention but edelguard took the one from HR and the person with the key to one in the event closet is striking as well. She runs around in a paint trying to answer emails and settle everyone down.

Ingrid: IT helpline rep - helping Dimitri reset the ban on outside websites is above her pay grade. She at least know some of the terminology and the basics. She manages to set up a very basic blocker but it didn't block whole domains just the homepage of every website she could think of that's wasn't appropriate for work. Logging into the site allowed you to bypass the block. Ingrid feels like she will be fired for not being able to do more

Golden deer:

Claude: event planner - noticing that there was no work happening he finally decided it was time to actually do his job. He dipped into those sweet event funds and ordered as many pizza's as he could from every pizza join that could deliver. He busted out the sport balls and got employees to clear some room for flag football on the 3rd floor. He got Hilda to organize games of hide and go seek in floors 4 and 5. All games and activities were not officially approved but followed all guidelines.

Hilda: claudes assistant - organized games on the 4th and 5th floors. The cubicle although uniform made excellent hiding spaces and the food plaza just got rid of the old tables and chairs awaiting delivery of new ones so there was a ton of space to run around. Hidia had to jump between floors pretty often which was a workout all on its own but it was worth it to see everyone smile at work for once.

Lornez: head of advertising - he was tired of writing jingles and stupid commercials for the company. He wasn't aware of the strike until he got the email from Ferdinand. He offered to treat him to some tea he brought from home. They had a lovely talk and watched Sylvain stress eat. He tried to talk Sylvain out of resigning but failed.

Raphael: pizza delivery guy - he thought it was a joke at first since they never delivered pizza to the Serios Co but was persuaded by Claude. He got stopped at the front by the front desk clerk who was ordered not to allow any deliveries. Soon more pizza guys showed up and some of them where not as nice as Raphael. He eventually got in and successfully delivered his pizza.

Ignatz: accountant - he wanted no part of this and tried to work despite being on the 3rd floor. He doesn't have any PTO and is frantically trying to get his absence approved because he cannot work under these conditions. He got walled in with desks and chairs and hand to crawl his way out to try to find someone in HR to help him but found their office empty. Worst day of work ever.

Lysithia: Intern- hopes to join the advertising department - She needs this job for school credits so finding out that her boss told her to take the day off because of strike she immediately thought of her record. Lorenz assured her that she would get credit as long as he had any say in it. She played a round of hide and go seek before studying in Lornez's office

Marianne: customer service rep.- she heard the rumors and on the day of the strike she freaked out and when to have a panic attack in her car. She was on lunch technically but she took a 3 hour lunch. She came back in clocked out and decided to try that horse therapy.

Leonnie: pizza delivery guy (not nice) - she knows the customer didn't care that the order took so long to complete and was very understanding that the 30mins or less delivery time but seriously! 50 PIZZAS!! She had to stretch and press dough at top speed for like 45 mins then she burnt her hand while boxing some of the pizza's and she had to deliver all of it to this company just outside of town and now the person at the front door is insisting that the pizza was ordered by mistake oh no! Not today! You will take the pizza and you will pay for it and tip 25%.

Church

Rhea: CEO and founder - she honestly believes her practices are helping the community. She doesn't realize that she doesn't give her employees much choice. She thinks her employees are ungrateful.

Seteth: president - also believes the company is doing the best they can. He knows the dorms are small and brand but they house 78.364% of their employees and they all see a doctor at least 3 times a month. He hates that he has difficulty finding a balance between competitive prices, compensating workers, and turning a profit.

Flayn: secretary - she saw the fun going on in the 5th floor while on her lunch and thought it was organized by staff and didn't connect it as part of the strike.

Catherine: front desk - tried to turn away all the delivery drivers but more kept coming. She kept getting calls from upper management about the social media platforms and tried frantically to get in to make a statement but had little luck. She gave up when Leonnie demanded payment and let all the delivery people in.

Shamir: social media manager- she originally attended the meetings as a mole but soon learned that her fellow employees hardships. She drafted huge posts on every platform exposing the truth, changed all the passwords then took a vacation during the strike.

Hanneman: chief operational officer - he is calling and emailing the IT department about the bans every moment he can. He organized the meeting as soon as the strikers got rowdy.

Manuela: chief financial officer - although she is worried about the finances she has also been pressing about where to cut the budget first. Horse therapy is ridiculous! They own the whole ranch and are responsible for the upkeep of every horse. And all the horses are carefully hand selected and trained too. It's too much nobody uses the horse therapy because nobody has the time off to go to horse therapy!

Alois: Chairman - his title is mostly empty. He joined the strikers in a game of flag football scored a touchdown. Then went back to work as usual. Didn't check his emails about the strike since he only checks them in the morning when he first comes into work.

Gilbert: treasurer - he puts business first. Doesn't know his daughter works for the same company. Was friends with Dimitri's father. He is stressing about how the company will recover financially. He is the reason for the pay cuts so they can fund most of the benefits.

Cyrill: gopher - he gets paid minimum wage and lives on site. He considers himself lucky that he can drive the company car to go pick up office supplies from the store. He was homeless before he got a job at Seiros and feels like he is important.

Results

Since several members of the board were caught participating in strike activities the hubert and his firm counted them at strikers and used this in court.

The dorms were not considered responsible accommodations saying that prisoners in jail cells at least have their own toilet.

The news when crazy with the posts on social media. The account never replied to any dms or comments. When called they said a rogue employee posted them falsely because she was being fired.

Rhea was forced to pay a lawsuit that gave all dormitory workers an allowance of $1000 for rent for life. Even if they choose to leave the company.

Dimitri was fired for not actually having any training. Felix was promoted to the head of IT and everyone respects him.

Rhea looses her company. And most of her assets. She kept the therapy horse ranch and manages that for a living.

With the entire company now belonging to her since everyone above her resigned she made a ton of changes making the company more normal. She pays a fair livable wage to every employee. She repurposed the dorms into offices or solitary break rooms.

Huberts firm gets rebranded as a honest firm that wants to help the little guys. He later goes on to help other corporations unionize.

[queerchoicesblog]

An Unexpected Turn of Events

Hiya, folks! So, as previously announced, the wlw writing project continues after a break with a miniseries set back in Vienna, one of the iconic capitals of opera at the time of Mozart. An emerging singer gets the chance to be an understudy in the latest Mozart’s discussed opera Le Nozze di Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro), that  premiered at the Burgtheater in Vienna on 1 May 1786, w and play the pants role of the page Cherubino. Preparing for the role doesn’t quite go as planned… .

Tagging: @scottishqueer​

Previous chapter: The Understudy

Hope you enjoy it: if you do, please consider spreading the word!

____________________

A couple of days later I go back to Melchiorri for another session as planned. He is inflexible that I allow my voice to rest at least one day before practising again not to damage it. As I observe the streets of Vienna passing by from my carriage, I wonder if the little fugitive will visit us today too and a tiny smile crosses my lips. I should be bothered by such unprofessionalism but surprisingly I enjoyed the interruption. A private comedic enteract. It also reminded me the maestro is human: I stole a glance of the domestic, family life people like me is generally unfamiliar with. I don't plan to marry anytime soon honestly if I can avoid it, despite what my Aunt claims. I owe her and my uncle, the wealthy side of my family, everything. She brought me away from the small town by the Alps I lived with Mom, Dad and Hans, my little brother in a wooden cottage by a stream. We weren't indigents, we owned a small typography in town that mainly served the local journal of the valley and well, the church crafting the prayer books you would find on the bench every day at mass. We weren't rich with either: you don't exactly became high socialite with so little. Hans is now running the typography as my father's eyes are not the ones he used to have since he got sick. I don't envy my poor brother; I am glad I got my way out of that life. I am eternally grateful to Auntie Helga for insisting to drag me to Graz and deciding to turn me into a star of the opera after hearing me perform a solo in the church choir during one of her - not so frequent, actually - visits.

Auntie built her fortune over a good marriage with a promising young lawyer who couldn't resist her charm and eventually allowed her to live in sober luxury and even be invited to court. But that seemed to be her sole aspiration in life: she left the small town and never looked back. I am an opera singer, I want more. My career comes first and I have yet to meet a worthy match honestly. And no, I don't want to be a puppet, a doll to a man who will eventually ask me to leave the stage and my beloved arias to look after a child or be a proper wife, whatever it means. So, no, thanks, I chuckle in my head while taking the hand the driver offer me to get off the carriage. When I knock at the door, I am considering that maybe Herr Giorgio is not that bad, even if I didn't like the way he addressed the maid and the poor naughty boy. Nor the lusty looks he throws me. The maid welcomes me with a smile and a little reverence. Good girl, probably she expects me to chastise her too. As if I had any intention to do so! She takes my fur and quickly disappear into the wardrobe room before walking back towardsme. I thank her for her zeal but I know the way to the music room, the maestro is surely waiting for me, I say. I start walking but what she says next makes me freeze, confused. "Actually, Miss...the master is not here today. I'm very sorry. His wife is waiting for you in the tea room". What? That...that must be a joke. The maestro hired to prepare me last minute disappears before the official rehearsals. I turn and throw a bad look at the poor maid, who doesn't deserve it in the least. She's just a messenger, her eyes beg before lowering them to her feet. She's right, my anger is all for Mister Melchiorri. What do I do now? "Whatever, lead the way then" I exclaim, following her. "I can't wait to hear what the fair lady has to say about this". My voice is cold, sardonic; the girl doesn't say a single word while we walk in the opposite direction than my usual route in the house. She's certainly too afraid to dare say a thing. When we finally arrive to the right room, she knocks politely at the door and steps in when a female voice comes from the inside. She bows her head and announces my presence before disappearing back down the corridor. She stops only to let the door open for me. I let out an annoyed sigh and enter. The room is significantly different from the maestro's studio. No instruments, only paintings at the walls and fresh flowers on the little tables around the room. The perfume is delicate and inebriating: are they orchids, I wonder? A neat wooden library holds the place of honour on the main wall, opposite the fireplace and framed by windows that fills the whole room by natural light, even if the sun doesn't shine today: it will probably rain soon. Letting my eyes wonder outside I spot green and a carousel: I didn't realise we were so close to a park! Unlike the music room, here even if the furniture, the velvet armchairs, the Persian rugs, every decor are certainly expensive, the atmosphere is surprisingly...cozy, an adjective I would have never thought of associated with Melchiorri's place. It's almost inviting, calming? "Miss Bauer, I am so incredibly sorry for the the latest developments and all the trouble they must bring on you...but please, take a seat! Franziska will be back soon with fresh tea". I turn to see a woman gesturing me to join her by the fireplace. Her German has a thick Italian accent which gives her "a bit of exotic" as they say at court. She doesn't wear a wig, her long raven hair are done up in an elaborate grateful chignon and two curly strands frame her visage. She reminds me one of those shepherdesses portrayed in bucolic frescos at the Emperor's Palace. Her dress is not in character though: a plain, cerulean dress which is not necessarily cheap but does nothing to enhance her figure. Poor taste probably: even money can do little about it sometimes. She must be in her early thirties or so I wager and thinner than most ladies I know in her standing...I wonder why Melchiorri chose her if he's so clearly fond of female curves. Maybe it's another arranged loveless marriage. I wouldn't be surprised. I oblige and thank her politely, forgetting my anger for a moment. It surprises me, it must be a reflex, a natural response the soothing silky voice of the lady. Like the feral beasts tamed by the gentle melody of Orpheus' song, I think trying to shake away such thought. I suddenly realise that I don't know her name. Melchiorri never talked about her. But I don't want to tell her: it's not a nice thing to say to a wife, right? As if reading my thoughts, she shakes her head slightly embarassed. "I forgot my manners, didn't I?" she sighs. "You must forgive me, Miss, I do not receive many visitors lately and I've never been introduced to famous opera singers...nor any of my husband's pupils. My name is Cecilia, Cecilia Melchiorri". I feel a pang of sadness for this lady excluded from the theatre world his husband works in. I don't get why she has to be cast out like that. I've met other illustrious wives at social gatherings around Vienna or at court. I offer her my hand, gesturing no apologies are needed, and repeat her name. "Cecilia...". Sadly, I completely butcher it: I studied Italian for the opera but my Austrian tongue is still incapable to recreate the sweet sounds that comes so natural to her. It must not be the first time because her lips curl in a quick understanding smile. "You can call me Lia, if it's easier for you. My family used to call me so". Lia...what a pretty little name. I smile, grateful. "I will then, if you don't mind...Lia. You can call me Constanze: it seems only fair". "As you wish, Miss Bauer!" she says before realising her mistake. We share an amused look, even if hers is a bit more bashful. In that moment, after another polite knock, Franziska returns with the tea and some butter biscuits. They're different from the ones Mister Melchiorri usually offers me in his studio. She's serving the tea when a familiar figure materialises on the threshold of the room at my peripheral. Lia is giving him the shoulders so she can't see him. I turn in his direction with a smirk. "I believe we've already met, right, Sir?" The two women turn at unison too and the kid childishly hides his face but doesn't move. After a moment he spies us through his fingers and retrieves his hands, smiling. Franziska puts the tray underneath her arm and tells Lia that she will bring him to his room, making the boy pout. He's quite the character. "Maybe he followed you because he just wants a biscuit" I say, my eyes wandering between them to check if I'm overstepping. "Maybe you're right...but only if he doesn't bother you" Melchiorri's wife concedes with a tired smile. I shake my head and take the decorated plate in my hands. "Would you like one?" I ask in Italian to her son, not sure if he speaks proper German. His face brightens up and he nods enthusiastically. We share a soft laugh, even the maid joins. He gets ready to speed across the room when he stops, considering. He searches his mother for approval. Lia nods, asking to behave like a good boy though. So he approaches slower than he wanted, with great effort to refrain himself, and grabs a biscuit from the plate. Before taking a generous bite, he mutters a quick thank you. "Mystery solved" I comment, placing the plate back on the table. "You must excuse him, Miss Ba- Constanze" Lia say, gently pulling him closer. "Nino is not a bad kid, just a bit of a rascal at times". "A rascal with a sweet tooth" Franziska adds and we share another laughter. "I'm so sorry he interrupted your private session the other day. Franziska had quite a fair share of work to do and I was indisposed in my room, I couldn't look after him as I usually do". I dismiss her apologies, taking a sip of tea. "But it was fun, wasn't it?" I wink at Nino who chuckles. "Yes and she sings very well, Ma" he says, turning to his mother. "Of course, I heard her too from my room" she smiles. "She's a promise of the opera, it's written on the newspapers". "Sing again?" the little boy begs, expectantly. His childish enthusiasm amuses me. "I cannot do those trills now, I need to warm up my voice first" I apologise, before winking. "Another time, I promise". Lia whispers something into his ear and he thanks me, concealing his disappointment. Crumbs are stuck on his lips and make the smile that follows a bit funnier than it was supposed to be. "Now, sweetheart, why don't you follow Franziska back to the kitchen?" She says, stroking his curls. "Take another biscuit and she will give you a glass of milk, just as you like it, huh?". She doesn't have to say it twice: while the maid gently places and arm around his shoulders, guiding him away, he takes not one but two biscuits in his hands. He throws me a conspiratorial look before chuckling. Then he turns towards Lia and stretches his neck to kiss her cheek. She caresses his face and tells him to be good with Franziska. When the two of them are out of the room, she meets my gaze again, shaking hear head. "Apologies, Miss...I sent Franziska to buy these for you this morning and he managed to put his eyes on them. He became obsessed". "Kids" I shrug, unbothered. I am pleasantly impressed that she had such a kind gesture towards me. I mean it could be a way to get on my good side because of the news she has to give me...but after all, this situation is not her fault. Her husband left her to deal with this and me all alone. She turns serious and sighs. "Anyway, have you heard of the flooding near Salzburg?". "What?". "Torrential rain lead to conspicuous floodings in the area surrounding Salzburg. I don't know if Giorgio mentioned it to you but he head there after your session for a family emergency....his brother lives there". "I'm afraid he didn't say a thing about his little journey" I say, trying my hardest not to look angered, even if I am: I would have rather be informed sooner of such details. By the look on her face I can tell she expected such an answer. "He surely thought he would be back in time today, he didn't mention staying for long. But during the night the weather deteriorated and the roads are pretty much impracticable, so to speak. We've just received a note saying he will be back as soon as travelling conditions are restored and the emergency solved. Probably a couple of days...maybe more? He must have sent you a similar one, you just missed it because you were on your way here already". "A couple of days? Maybe more?" I exclaim. That's not promising... "The rehearsals start in a week" I frown. "I still need to practise...". "You are free to do it here if you wish, Miss" she suggests, apologetic yet encouraging. "I am perfectly aware this is a hideous setback for you with such a tight schedule. You must believe me when I say I wish we never put you in this situation...if there's anything I can do, Miss, ask away. I'm not my husband but...". I consider her words for a moment. My mind runs wild to find a solution for this unexpected unfavourable circumstance. I could find another maestro maybe but how, within such a short notice and little time before official rehearsals begin? I could do it on my own but another sudden foolish idea crosses my mind. "Do you play the cello, Mrs. Lia?" I must have taken her by surprise by the look on her face. She tries to conceal it, refilling her cup. "Why, yes. My father was a musician, I took cello classes in my youth but I don't see how this-". "Excellent! Then you can take your husband's place until the he’s back" I exclaim, cutting her short. My words must come as a shock: she almost spits her tea. "Beg pardon, Miss?". "You will be my maestro, well understudy maestro for the time being" I smile, explaining. "You said yourself that you can play the cello, you can assist me as I practice". "But...but I don't have my husband expertise" she objects, at loss of words. "You heard me practicing with your husband, right? So you must know how it should sound. And that aside, you can even tell yourself if my performance is good or not: you have ears too, if I am not mistaken". She opens her mouth to say something, anything to make me change my mind and spare her such thing...but nothing comes. Her lips presses together for a moment before she places her cup back on the table. "Very well, then...if you think it would work" she smiles weakly. "Just be patient with me: I do not usually play opera arias".

[onisiondrama]

(Note: I’m not repeating stories he’s told before and just putting them in parenthesis. I have a lot more videos to go until I’m caught up so that would save me a lot of time. If he gives details I never heard from him before, I will type those.)

“The New Onision Conspiracy” prev. “Hitting Your Loved Ones Is Never Ok” Speaks, September 29?, 2020 (deleted)

- Says he got 6,000 - 7,000 new followers on Twitch during one stream. Allegedly, it’s from a streamer who was trying to say Onision beats his s/o. He thought it was about Shiloh (called the cops on Shiloh stories). - He found out over stream it was actually about a record or report from November 16, 2019 where someone said it sounded like there was domestic violence in his home. He says people don’t factor in that the police are often called on streamers and Youtubers. Internet people like to waste the money of tax payers and get Youtubers and streamers swatted or call animal control all the time. - Says he was told by a police officer someone called. At the time he thought it was about his pets because it happened so often. People from the internet called and would say they’re a neighbor to get the cops to come. - Anti-o is one of the most criminal and toxic community out there because they waste tax payer money and waste the time of the police, animal control, and CPS. - Someone tried to get him swatted, but it didn’t work. They released the audio. He never listened to it, but he was told it was really bad and embarrassing for the person who called. The person who picked up the call was intelligent and saw through that person right away. Emergency receptionists deal with a lot of imbeciles, like people asking for directions to Pizza Hut. - The pizza companies don’t like anti-o’s because they were pranked so many times. He asked them to put down his number and call him to confirm if he actually ordered a pizza because people would order meat lovers pizzas to his home. They tried to pointlessly kill animals and waste the pizza company’s time and money. The prank never worked because he would never take the pizza. - Lying is the go-to for people who want to be evil online. Sarah was reported as murdered and she answered the door. Kai was reported missing and Kai answered the door. - (He was reported to animal control for farting / muffin) - People create villainous legends about him online. If you watch his Twitch you’ll know he’s boring. He’s only entertaining in videos because he’s one of the best villainous actors out there. A director tried to put him in a loving role. The director asked him why he was so awkward and weird when he was brilliant in the other roles he gave him. He says it’s because he’ll the villain. He’s Loki, not Thor. He’s the guy that plays American Psycho, not Romeo from Romeo and Juliet. - Says people created a fictional universe where he’s a super manipulative intellectual who’s playing everyone. It’s an elaborate, nonsensical concept of him. You’d think the people who he kicked out of his life would say that’s ridiculous but they were kicked out for being liars. He’s actually quite virtuous. He has morals, standards, an overwhelming respect for the truth and justice. - He can be cold like L. He’d fit in the role of L. He hates playing Light Yagami. He always depicts L (I think he meant to say Light) as an idiot in his Death Note sketches because his motivations are stupid, he’s a criminal. He acts like a hero yet he’s killing people for disagreeing with him. - Says Thanos was an idiot too. [goes into detail about Thanos’ motivations] He should have doubled the size of the planets so he doesn’t have to kill everyone. He murdered countless individuals. - People tried to use a Leafy video as evidence against him to the police. Leafy recently wrote to him and said this was all r-worded. Keemstar also pointed out how stupid this all is. Neither of them like him, but they both had to deal with crazy anti-o. You’re all conspiracy theorists whack jobs. - (Hansen trespassed, Mike went to court) - Someone on twitter said he belongs in prison, but there was no crime. - All these people’s stories don’t line up. One person says he thinks he’s a god, another person says he’s a jerk, someone said he was rude to his husband. The consistency is he’s rude to people and you guys think that concludes a prison sentence. - People jumped to conclusions with Johnny Depp, but they flipped when they saw evidence of his girlfriend being awful. - He filmed himself walking in on Shiloh in the shower with a Go Pro. (He describes the sketch.) Says she was 18 or 19. He says it was a pretend prank. They also made a Taco Bell prank where they pretended to order in a drive thru when it was closed. He pretended to shave half of her head when she was sleeping. She told them to shave her head before the video. There was another prank where he said things like she’s not good enough at the end of the video. It’s what Youtubers do, it was fake drama. At the time you guys got it. The videos got 2,000 likes and 200 dislikes. Later on it’s out of context and people don’t understand the vibe. He threw candy corn at her and she pretended to be upset. They were dating and it was part of the joke. (He dumped Shiloh for cheating and getting pregnant story.) - If someone calls the cops on you, that doesn’t mean what they said is true. The person that called was not even a verified neighbor. - He has a hater that lives across the water. He filmed him bulldozing his weeds and made a huge thing online about it. [No. That guy worked for the fish and wildlife department in their county. He was literally doing his job. He saw a violation and reported it. He sent the video to the county when he reported it. People online got a hold of the video online because it was with the public reports on the site.] Says it was primarily blackberry bushes, nettles, and devil’s club that he cleared. Things that significantly hurt adults and children. Anti-os freaked out about it and his yard is literally better now than it’s ever been. People say he destroyed his land. What a bunch of numbskulls. - He recently did a poll on twitter and asked if he made a poll for legal expenses and after he collects it he says the majority will go to fixing his car, if that’s fraud. 80% said yes. An anti-o did that and it’s not fraud? He did another poll asking if he told someone he could destroy their life and they later asked him to sign an NDA and he told them only if they sleep with him, would that be rape? People voted 8/10 yes. Says that’s what Sarah did to him. - People used to show up to their debates and after would say they never really hated him. They were just being an entertainer or liking the attention he was getting them. You’re dealing with a bunch of liars. - He’s never found someone who talked about honesty as much as him and wound up being a liar. He swears on his own life that he’s an honest person. - He says he doesn’t need to talk about things like how he was crying when his daughter fell out of a window, but he’s trying to be transparent. - Says the domestic violence call thing obviously never happened. He and Kai are not violent. Shiloh was violent. She was hauled away for threatening to frame him for murder. Her ex said she threatened to put a bowie knife in him. (Shiloh stole his money story.) You guys hail that person a hero because you don’t care about reality. - He thinks possibly someone heard him making a meltdown video, but the only neighbor he’s near is cool with him. They text every few months about bears they saw. They invited him once to a BBQ. The hater across the water watched his with their camcorder zoomed in like a peeping Tom. 🙄 - Anti-os love breaking the law. You either die a hero or live long enough to become the villain. [I swear if I got $1 every time I listened to him saying that quote I’d be rich.] They think they’re heroes, but they hurt people like villains. If you’re self righteous and you hurt others because you think you’re above other people, you’re a villain.  - He’s hurt a lot of people’s feeling and made people cry because he rejected them or said what was true. A lot of people don’t like that. - He talked to Kai about all this today and he was amused. Kai was upstairs smiling and chuckling about it. - Comment section is still closed because he doesn’t want people to talk about conspiracy theories. He’s thinking about making a forum so his fans can talk about his videos.

[miraculouslycool]

Miraculous: Princess and the Pauper

Chapter 3

Previous | Next

A few hours earlier....

"You don't have to do this, you know." Nino frowned next to him as their carriage took a sharp turn.

"Do what?" Adrien was barely listening. He had his head out of the moving carriage and was breathing in the fresh summer air as their ride climbed up the hill that housed the castle.

"Wha-hey!" Adrien pouted as Nino yanked him back in by his collar.

"I am not going back home with a king having bruises from potentially tumbling off of his carriage." Nino said seriously, adjusting his glasses.

"Oh, lighten up, Nino." Adrien lightly punched his shoulder.

"That's what you said when you slid down the rail of the stairs leading to the west wing while holding a sword, if I may add, Your Majesty?"

"That was two years ago! I am the king now, I obviously can't do things like that anymore."

Adrien knew Nino only addressed him formally when he was pulling his leg, so he was confused to see him look uncharacteristically serious.

"You still haven't answered my question, Adrien. Do you really want to do this? Get married to someone you don't even know?"

"Well, I am going to have to get to know her at some point, right?" Adrien shrugged.

"Yeah, you can't fool me. I can see right through your fake optimism." Nino crossed his arms.

"I have to do this, Nino. You know how the Royal Court sees me even after being King for two years."

"But the people love you." Nino pointed out. "And at the end of the day, it's only their opinion that matters."

Adrien shook his head. "But you know how.....untraditional I've been with my tenure. They griped and moaned about reducing the tax rate for the poorer parts of the kingdom. They thought focusing on the agricultural sector was a waste of time. I really don't want to have to say this, but I need to be in their good books even if I don't follow their advice most of the time. And that includes atleast listening to my advisors when they say I need to find a wife."

"I don't care about them, Adrien." Nino said defiantly. "I asked if YOU wanted this."

"Okay, no, I... don't? I guess? I'm not averse to marriage or anything, I don't think I am ready for it, at all. I'm only 21! How do you even be a husband?"

Nino's smirk peeked through his straight face, but he managed to hold it in.

"How should I know that? My luck with the ladies is worse than yours."

Both of them guffawed at their own little inside joke.

"Speaking of luck and ladies, are you really going to try to woo the princess by dressing up as a page boy?"

"I'm not going to woo her, Nino. We haven't even met. Atleast she would have seen paintings of me - this is a princess who hid her face from the world out of respect for her mother. Which is something I can get behind, really."

"....are you going to creepily gaze at her from afar?"

"I'm just trying to get a feel of what she's like. Without letting her know who I am."

"Why would the princess talk to a poor, lowly page?"

Adrien scowled. "Stop poking holes in my logic, Nino."

"Whatever you say, your servant-liness-ow don't hit me when we're turning corners!"

------

Kagami took a deep breath as she studied her notes. If she focused enough, she wouldn't have to think about the fact that King Adrien's ambassador was holding an audience with her mother right now in the throneroom.

There was a knock on the door, and she groaned to herself. That must be Gabriel, coming to drag her away from her haven.

"Come in." She said tiredly.

The door opened and Luka stepped in with a large, thin box wrapped in a red bow.

"Oh, it's just you." Kagami sighed. "If Gabriel had to be the one escorting me downstairs..." She shuddered.

Luka raised an eyebrow in amusement. "It's your lucky day. The King hasn't arrived....well,yet."

Kagami's head snapped back to look at him. "Huh?"

"He has only sent his ambassador....and a page, I think. Didn't get a good look at either of them. And I was only sent to give you this-" he held up a box. "-an engagement gift from him."

Kagami sighed in relief, getting up and accepting the box from Luka.

But she knew that the relief wouldn't last long. Sooner or later, King Adrien would be here, she'd finally have to meet him and.....leave everything behind.

She inhaled sharply, refusing to let her thoughts get the best of her.

This marriage wasn't about her. Or her feelings. Her kingdom was in debt and if she didn't step up, everything would be ruined.

She undid the bow clumsily until Luka chuckled and did it for her.

"Thanks." She said sheepishly.

"No problem, your Highness. If there is anyone who knows about your legendary impatience, it is this man." He pointed to himself.

Luka could feel himself glow when his little joke managed to get a smile out of Kagami.

The reminder that today might be the beginning of his last few days with her quickly dimmed it down.

"Oh." Kagami said, looking at what was inside the box. "It's beautiful...I guess."

Luka peered inside and saw a gorgeous diamond necklace. It wasn't flashy or over-the-top, as expensive as it looked. It was delicate and elegant, shimmering in the midday sunlight.

It would have been perfect for Kagami if it were not for the fact that she barely wore jewelry.

"This is all going too fast, Luka." Kagami breathed suddenly as she pulled her veil back down, placed the necklace on her desk and paced quickly to her balcony.

It wasn't long before Luka joined her as well, placing a gentle, comforting hand between her shoulder blades.

"I know." He muttered, watching her lean heavily on the railing like it was the last thing holding her on to Earth.

She was right. Everything was going fast. And there was nothing he could do about it.

He was in love, but he wasn't stupid.

He knew he was too late. Confessing to her now, as tempting as it was would only lead to more trouble for her, her mother....he didn't even want to think about what would become of his mom and Juleka if it came out that he was involved with the princess.

Loving her came with strings attached. He couldn't imagine being King if they ever got together, but he knew that in time, he would learn. He'd been watching her for years and if he needed help, Kagami would always be there for him.

"What do you think King Adrien will be like?" Kagami suddenly asked, looking at him.

.....Luka wanted to kick himself.

Kagami was getting married. MARRIED. What was he thinking - making up scenarios where they actually had a future together? It wasn't going to happen.

"Um... well from what I've heard, he's an excellent swordsman, and a great warrior, not that he's ever had use of those skills, because he would always avoid war if he could. Oh, and he also plays the piano."

"The piano?" Kagami scoffed. "That's it? I've seen better."

"Like whom?"

"Like you?" She said, confidently. "You play the guitar, the piano, the lyre, the harp, the flute, the violin and the trumpet. Try asking him to beat that."

Luka chuckled nervously, trying to fight off a blush. "I can't exactly go up to the monarch of Northern France and challenge him to a duel in music. Besides, I don't think he would agree. From what I've heard of him, he doesn't like confrontations."

That's a shame, Kagami thought. She would appreciate a good catfight every now and then. Not that she and Luka ever fought too severely.

And definitely not that she thought that Adrien wouldn't do so, but she had seen Luka go into protective mode whenever the people he loved were involved.

And when he became angry, which was extremely rare, he was truly scary.

"Kagami, I have an idea." Luka said suddenly.

"Hm? What is it?"

"This may involve breaking some rules, so we don't have to do it if you don't want to."

Kagami immediately smiled. It may be the first and last time she truly got to rebel. Why waste the opportunity?

"I'm listening."

-------

"Okay,you clearly couldn't have thought of a better idea." She gushed as Luka helped her down the simplest carriage and horse he could find in the royal shed.

Kagami breathed in the smell of something delicious and the chatter of hawkers and customers.

Luka had brought her to the capital's main square. He had thought it would be nice for her to have a change of scenery.

And Kagami didn't even need a mask, since nobody knew what she looked like. She had never been more grateful for taking that vow.

"Now will you admit that I can get ideas that don't have anything to do with musical notes?" Luka asked her.

"Hmm," Kagami pretended to think. "I don't know.... maybe you only brought me to here make my ears bleed by having me listen to an opera."

Luka laughed. He could never get the completely hilarious and pained look Kagami had whenever her mother invited another opera singer every week.

"Do you trust me or not? Of course I won't." He winked as he led her down the crowded street.

"I wish the palace was more like this." Kagami mused. "This place is just....full of life. People talking, laughing and-"

She paused when she saw something that would have missed a normal person's eye.

A family of four, a pair of parents and two kids who looked like they hadn't eaten in days were watching as men cleared out....what must have been left of their business.

One of the men who was significantly better dressed than them came up to the father and handed him a bag of money. Which didn't look like it would last them for the rest of the year.

She wanted to go up there and offer to buy back their store. Actually why waste time wanting? She was going to-

Reveal herself and ruin things for herself and Luka.

Kagami sighed sadly as she watched the four of them slowly shuffle away.

Were her people suffering that much? And there she was, trying to get herself in the middle of a love triangle.

"Hey, there you are!" Luka grabbed her hand. "I was so worried when I looked back and didn't see you!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I just..." Kagami hesitated. She couldn't tell Luka about this and make him feel worse. "I was looking at that stall over there. The food there smells delicious."

"Oh, that?" Luka looked to where she was pointing. "Well then, let's get you some street food!" He took her hand and led her there.

"But seriously, don't ever let go of my hand, if you got lost, I don't know what I would do."

He said that all without missing a beat.

She probably should have realised it sooner, but if she married King Adrien, it wasn't going to be a last resort. It was going to be a choice. A choice she made for her people.

Even if that meant leaving behind her only chance at happiness.

She couldn't even focus on the vendor making the food, even though that was something she would have been fascinated with.

"I'm really sorry I can't take you to my house." Luka said sadly. "Mom and Juleka would have loved to see you."

"Oh no, that's fine. I can't risk them seeing my face and getting them caught."

She had met Luka's family before. Not often, but she knew they were a good sort. The first time she met his mother, Kagami had been wearing her fencing helmet and uniform, and the minute Anarka was introduced to her, she challenged to a duel.

That was the first time Kagami lost a fencing match, but she most definitely did not mind.

Juleka folded into herself a lot. And though she never showed any signs of disliking Kagami (she never would, she's too sweet for that), they barely talked.

Until one day. Luka stayed at the palace, except for the weekends when he would visit his mother and sister and give them his wages.

Imagine his 15 year old self's horror when a guard came by to collect him, saying that his mother sent for him due to a family emergency.

Kagami had no idea what had even happened until a harassed looking Luka came by a few hours later begging her to hide his little 12 year old sister until he sorted things out at home.

Kagami had readily agreed, and sought to make Juleka feel at home as much as possible. It didn't help, because not one minute after Luka left, Juleka had burst into tears.

That was the first time Kagami had heard Juleka properly speak. She had to watch her drunkard father storming out of their house, leaving behind his family forever.

Kagami had very uncharacteristically found the patience to listen to her family's struggles. Juleka,on the other hand had never thought she would find a friend in the princess and she was more than grateful for it.

Once Luka came back to drop his sister off, he didn't come back until a week later, and Kagami didn't try to ask him to. His family needed him.

That was why the minute Luka came back, Kagami insisted that his family move to the palace with him.

Luka was understandably shocked, but he flat out refused. He took after his mother when it came to pride, and he didn't want pity, even if it was well-intentioned.

Kagami then tried to convince him to let her give him enough money to settle in a bigger house atleast, but he replied that he had already been saving a portion of his wages for that.

He was extremely stubborn when he wanted to be, and Kagami knew she would lose this particular battle.

She finally put her foot down and ordered that he accept an increment in his salary.

Luka refused at first, but she had angrily retorted that she would help him save up for his family if it was the last thing she did.

Luka finally gave in, and she knew he wouldn't admit it, but the Couffaines were doing a lot better now.

"Chloe! Give that back!" She suddenly heard a voice cry out from the middle of the square.

Kagami turned to see a blonde woman grab a box holding what looked like a lot of money from a girl at the counter of her clothing stall.

She had to blink twice when she caught sight of the girl, because she thought she was looking at herself for a minute. The girl's hair had the same shade of blue as hers. Except that her hair was longer.

Whatever she looked like,she was definitely getting bullied into giving away her own money.

Kagami frowned. As much as the blonde woman looked like a hateful brat, she wouldn't do something like that out in public if she meant to steal her money. Did these women know each other?

Either way, she wasn't going to stand back and watch someone get bullied.

"Hey, I'm just going to-"

"No." Luka said abruptly. "I know what you are looking at and I know what you are going to do. I really feel sorry for that woman too, but you can't just go out there and princess your way out of it."

Kagami's eyes narrowed at him. "Do you really think I am going to challenge the blonde to a duel? Come on, I could have her knocked out in 2 seconds flat. You know I don't like an easy fight."

"Kagami..."

"Luka, I am a princess. I'm trained in diplomacy. And I would much rather use it to actually help someone in need rather than try to make peace between Gabriel and the newest member of court he got into an argument with."

Without another word, she walked up to the stall.

--------

Kagami wanted to dig her own grave and die after what she had just done.

"Your Highness?" Marinette softly whispered.

"Um..." Kagami was trying to not panic. "Maybe.... please don't tell anyone that?"

Thankfully, she nodded rapidly. "It's the least I could do after what you did for me."

Kagami sighed in relief. "Thank you, thank you so much."

How was she going to explain this to Luka?

Marinette stepped out of the stall. "If you don't mind me asking....what are you doing out of the castle and....are you letting people see your face now?"

There was a certain innocence to this girl, as strong and robust as she looked.

"Um...no." she chuckled nervously. "I just wanted to get out of the castle to clear my mind. And I'm not alone, I came with my friend."

She gestured meekly to Luka, who looked nearly mortified at being addressed.

He sprinted towards them and turned to Marinette. "Please don't tell me you know."

"I...do. But it's fine! I won't breathe a word about this to anyone!" Marinette quickly said.

When Luka still looked skeptical, Kagami placed a hand on his arm. "It's okay, we can trust her. It's my fault anyway."

Luka opened his mouth to protest but Kagami pointed to the stall. "I think our food is ready, Luka."

"But-"

"Go ahead, I won't move a muscle." Kagami reassured.

Luka sighed. "In any case, it was very nice to meet you, Marinette." He smiled at her before leaving.

"His name is Luka?" Marinette inquired.

"Yes, I thought it was pretty weird too, at first." Kagami rolled her eyes.

"No, no, it's not because of that. I feel like I have heard that name before, that's all." She straightened herself. "Anyway, I am honoured to have an audience with you, Your Majesty."

Kagami smiled. "You can call me Kagami, don't worry. And I am a Highness, not exactly a Majesty...yet."

"Yet? Oh you mean when you become queen!"

It was clear that Gabriel had been careful enough to not let news of the engagement come out.

Maybe it was the fact that she had been bottling up her feelings for weeks together, but she wanted to tell Marinette everything.

She looked like someone who listened.

"Not exactly.... I'm getting married."

"MARRIED?!" Marinette yelled and everyone turned to stare at them.

"Heh, heh, nothing to see here, she was telling me about a good book she read!" Marinette said loudly and very unconvincingly.

Fortunately, no one seemed to care as they went back to their business.

"I am very sorry-" Marinette flushed immediately.

"It's fine. I wish I had the freedom to react however I wanted." Kagami sighed.

Marinette frowned. "To whom are you getting married?"

"To the King of Northern France, Adrien." She said.

"Do you not love him?" She asked kindly.

"I haven't even met him yet." Kagami said somberly.

She saw Marinette look at her sympathetically, and she felt ashamed.

Not because Marinette was showing her pity. Because she was talking about something so inconsequential compared to her life.

"I really hope you are lucky enough to marry someone you love, Marinette." Kagami said sincerely.

Marinette stole a quick look at Luka before smiling and thanking her.

"Although there isn't much room in my life for men and love at the moment." Marinette laughed humorlessly.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"I... work at the Bourgeois' prison- I mean patisserie."

"Are you not a designer?" Kagami was confused.

"Oh this? Yeah, this is just a part time thing. I have to work there full time."

"I mean this in your best interests, but you seem to have a talent for this." Kagami held up the scarf. "Why dont you quit your job and work with your own business?"

"I....Your Highness-Kagami, I'm not sure if I am supposed to tell you this."

Kagami had a faint inkling about where this was going. "I am the princess. If you can't tell me, who can you tell?"

"I am in debt to the Bourgeois family." Marinette fidgeted with her fingers. "My late parents had taken a huge loan from them years ago and I'm repaying it in the form of labour. So I can't quit."

A huge wave of sadness washed over Kagami. But she knew better than to offer her too much help. Hardworking people like Marinette and Luka hated being pitied.

"Marinette, I want you to have this." She took off one of her rings.

"What? No! I couldn't!"

"I'm not offering you this to sell it." She said gently. "In case you need any help, or if the heiress needs an attitude adjustment, just show this at the palace's doorstep and tell them you want to see me. They will definitely believe you if you have something of mine."

"...thank you. This is the most wonderful thing anyone has ever done for me." Marinette said, carefully taking the ring.

"You are welcome. Besides....if I ever had a twin sister, I think she would look like you."

Marinette snorted. "I would believe so. Except for our eyes."

"Nobody would know the difference. You and Luka are the only one who know I'm the one with this face." Kagami laughed and then remembered something.

"I also have this birthmark on my shoulder." She said, pushing down her sleeve to show a slightly puckered up mark in the shape of a crown.

"And it's conveniently in the shape of a crown?" Marinette quipped.

"Believe me, I have been asking myself the same thing." Luka said as he strolled up to them, holding a package of what must have been their food.

"Now you two listen." Kagami adopted her most authoritative voice possible. "That birthmark has been inherited from my father's side of the family for nearly three generations."

Marinette could see that Luka was trying to not laugh, yet his eyes held the same amount of tenderness Kagami's held every single time she had turned to look at him while talking to her.

"Yeah, Kagami, we know how genetics works." Luka said.

"But still.... it's a crown." Marinette added.

"Oh, whatever. It's not like I am in control of it." Kagami rolled her eyes, but she was still grinning.

"Well, we should get going." Luka said. "There is still a lot you have to see."

"It was really wonderful meeting you Marinette." Kagami squeezed her hand.

"Same here." Luka nodded.

"I think I am still dreaming in my bed and the day hasn't started. I mean, I got to meet royalty!" Marinette looked genuinely confused. "Things like that don't happen to me!"

"Well maybe, this is a sign then." Luka said thoughtfully. "A sign that things are going to change for all of us."

Oh, he had no idea how right he was.

Taglist:

@chatnoirinette @uwuteamleader @flyingturtlecat @imsocial-not @mysticmiraculer @chronicallylatetotheparty @beautymercurydragon @notall2gether @multimousemari @miraculousgrl @maximumjinx @fluffybreadd @the-freckled-luba @catsssmeow @totallyawesomeperson @shadykit

[spine-buster]

Alone, Together | Chapter 32 | Morgan Rielly

“Get your hand off my butt, baby.  We’re in public.”

“I can’t.  It’s glued there.”

Bee couldn’t help but snort as she felt Morgan’s hand pat her ass.  She looked up at him trying to contain her smile, watching him as he was watching the commotion around them.  Friends and family of Zach and Alannah were filing into the foyer of the Art Gallery of Ontario, excitedly looking around at all the decorations around them.  They were waiting off to the side for some more teammates to arrive – Fred, Tyler, and William were due to arrive any second according to their texts to Morgan, all solo bachelors for the night, along with John and Aryne (who had flown in just that morning from Sydney and Matt Martin’s wedding in the Hamptons the day before), Nazem and Ashley, Jake and Lucy, Mitch and Steph, Connor and Madison, and Kasperi and Cassie.  Some former teammates had even flown in for the wedding, like James van Riemsdyk and his fiancée Lauren, and the new Stanley Cup winner Tyler Bozak and his wife Molly.  Bee knew it was going to be a great party.

“What are you gonna do when we have to sit for the ceremony?  Am I gonna sit on your hand?” she asked.

“Probably.”

She couldn’t help but snort.  “You’re unbelievable.”

Morgan finally looked down at her with a smirk on his face.  “What am I supposed to do when you’re wearing that,” he said, motioning down to her dress.  “Plus I know what you’re wearing under it.”

“Behave yourself,” she warned.  “We’re at a wedding.”

“Can’t make any promises.”

This was Bee’s first ever wedding.  It wasn’t like she was ever invited to them as a kid (and it wasn’t like she and her mother could go even if they were), and considering her age, nobody in her friend group had gotten married yet.  When she and Morgan got the invitation, she stared at it for like, five minutes, taking in the gold foil detailing, the heavy cardstock, and all the other bits included, like a parking pass and a map to the Art Gallery of Ontario.  It was so luxurious and well designed.  The whole wedding was going to be so luxurious if the invitation was anything to go by.  When she let Morgan know it would be her first wedding, he told her what to expect, what they day and night would entail, and how there would probably be a lot of alcohol and the hockey boys going a bit crazy.  Bee knew she’d have to get a new dress and probably get her hair done, so she made sure to go shopping with Ashley, who helped her pick out her dress, and had gone to a hair appointment earlier in the day so she could get a messy bun done.  She was excited, to say the least, and had been eagerly jittery about it for at least a week.

“He’s touching the buuuuutttt,” a high-pitched voice mimicked the octopus from Finding Nemo.  Morgan and Bee both whipped their heads to see Tyler leading Fred and William towards where they were standing.  Morgan made no attempt to take his hand off her ass as his teammates approached, though when Bee leaned in to hug them, he was forced to let go.

“You guys are looking quite dapper,” Bee smiled as she gave big hugs to Willy and Fred.  They said their thanks and complimented her on her dress before she turned to Tyler.  “You look like a vacuum salesman.”

The boys cackled as Tyler’s jaw dropped.  “This is a new suit!” he cried out.  

“It is?”

“Bespoke!  From Mo’s guy!” he pointed towards Morgan.  

“Really?”

“Garrison Bespoke!” he stressed.  “He took my measurements and everything!”

Bee couldn’t help but laugh.  “Oh you know I’m kidding, Tyler,” she smacked his arm playfully.  “The suit looks great.”

“Thank God.  This is the most expensive piece of clothing I own.”

“Your hair on the other hand…” she began, a devilish grin on her face.

“Don’t you dare speak about my hair.”

Before the teasing could go any further, the group was ushered to a row of seats about halfway from the front.  Morgan sat on the aisle seat, Bee next to him as he held her hand in his lap.  Tyler sat beside her, with Fred and Willy next to him.  Eventually, Kasperi and Cassie snuck in to finish off the row, and John and Aryne settled in right behind Morgan and Bee, along with Jake and Lucy, and Nazem and Ashley.  Music was playing from a set of speakers high above them (Bee imagined the DJ had set them up – no way would an art gallery be blasting music in those speakers) as the traditional ceremony began.  Bee smiled when she saw Zach walk down the aisle to the chuppah with his parents.  Zach looked so dapper in his suit, and he looked nervous as he joked around with his groomsmen.  When Alannah began to walk down the aisle, Bee couldn’t help but become emotional at the sight of her.  She looked so beautiful in her dress, her long blonde hair in perfectly done waves and her veil extending behind her like a princess.  Bee shed a tear as Alannah finally met Zach at the end of the aisle, who had already wiped away a few tears himself.  

Morgan continued to hold her hand lightly in his lap throughout the ceremony.  His fingers were loose around hers, and his thumb grazed the back of her hand tenderly throughout the whole ceremony.  She could feel him looking at her at certain points, and when she’d turn her head to look at him, she’d see him gazing at her, his eyes glossed over with an emotion Bee couldn’t quite discern. 

The moment came when Zach had to break the glass.  As he stomped his foot down, the glass in the napkin shattered and everybody screamed the traditional “Mazel tov!” and began a round of applause.  The music started back up again as they walked back town the aisle hand in hand.  Bee looked up at Morgan once Zach and Alannah reached the end, their wedding party following behind them.

“Now it’s time to party,” he winked at her.  

***

Cocktail hour was exciting and full of food.  They had a raw oyster bar that kept getting restocked, a sushi station, passed hors d’oeuvres, and a “cheese” cake – literally wheels of cheese imported from Italy stacked on top of one another.  Bee couldn’t get enough, especially of the cheese cake, and Morgan ate so many oysters she thought he wouldn’t be able to eat dinner (Morgan always had room for dinner).  He also had room for drinks – lots of drinks, because fuck, a teammate was getting married and they needed to celebrate every fifteen minutes with a toast to Zach, a toast to Zach’s dad, a toast to the chuppah.  Bee milked her gin and tonic for most of cocktail hour, watching as the bartenders poured drink after drink for the boys.  Morgan made sure to keep his hand in its place (read: on her ass) whenever he wasn’t eating or having a drink with the boys, and this time, Bee appreciated the contact a little more.  

When they were ushered from Walker Court to Baillie Court for dinner, Bee picked up hers and Morgan’s place card.  The giant table they were seated at saw her and Morgan sitting with Jake and Lucy, John and Aryne, Kappy and Cassie, Fred, Willy, and Tyler.  The other “hockey table” beside them constituted Tyler and Molly, James and Lauren, Connor and Madison, Mitch and Steph, and Naz and Ashley.  They were definitely the loudest section of the room, tucked into their own little corner relatively close to the head table.  

As they began to sit down in their places, Bee was in the middle of a Fred and Morgan sandwich.  Being squishes between two giant hockey players was probably the dream of a lot of girls, but Bee felt like she had T-Rex arms and wondered how she’d be able to eat her meal without elbowing her boyfriend and good friend.  Morgan’s hand immediately went to her thigh.  “Morgan, Fred is right here,” she warned, her voice low as she whispered in his ear.

He turned to her.  “I can’t stop thinking about what’s under that dress,” he said, much, much louder than he intended.  It was clear the alcohol was coursing through his veins and he either had no filter, no shame, or no concept of how loud his voice was.

Either way, Fred snorted beside her.  Bee gave Fred an exasperated look as he continued to smirk and giggle.  “Morgan,” she said sternly.  “Keep your voice down, please.”

“Yeah Mo.  If I really want to I could reach over and put my hand on your thigh, too,” Fred chirped in, doing just that, leaning over Bee’s body and squeezing Morgan’s thigh.  “Never mind asking to see what’s under that suit.”

“Oh my God,” Bee grimaced before she facepalmed.  The last thing she saw was Fred wiggling his eyebrows and Morgan wiggling his back at him.  Apparently everybody else at the table was too busy in their own conversations to see what was going on.  “Please hold off until we start dancing.  I don’t think everyone else at the table will appreciate your shameless flirting while they eat.”

After Zach and Alannah’s first dance (Bee definitely cried) but before dinner began, Zach’s dad made a heartwarming speech about their families coming together.  Zach and Alannah were high school sweethearts, so he spoke about how much they had grown together and how he was so happy to “finally have a daughter” in Alannah.  After the first course, their best man and maid of honour also made their speeches, which were hilarious and poked fun at the couple, all while celebrating their friendship and love.  Lastly, after the main course, Zach and Alannah gave their own speech to both laughs and tears from the guests in attendance.  Throughout the speeches, Morgan rested his arm on the back of Bee’s chair and she leaned back into his chest.  She could feel him rest his cheek on the side of her head and couldn’t help but smile at him being so unapologetically affectionate.  She didn’t know if it was just him, or the alcohol, or a mix of both.  In a room surrounded by love for Zach and Alannah, she felt fortunate to know Morgan still couldn’t help but show his love for her, too.  

Then, the party started.

The DJ opened the dancing with some Rihanna, and everybody crowded the dance floor quickly.  Bee, Aryne, and Lucy began moving their hips along to the music, the boys dancing awkwardly as they always did – probably because the food had softened their buzz and they didn’t feel the rhythm as much.  Song after song, the DJ kept the dance floor full.  Eventually, the boys were pulled away from some drinks and shots at the bar, and the girls met up with the others, taking group photos and posing with their hands rubbing Aryne’s bump. 

When the DJ began to play a slower-tempo song, Morgan returned to the dance floor, grabbing Bee’s hands and twirling her into his body as they moved to the beat of the music.  With his one hand on her lower back and his other holding hers against his chest, he looked down at her and gave her a quick peck on the lips.  “I lllllove you, you know that?”

Bee couldn’t help at his slight slur of his words.  She wondered how many shots he downed at the bar while she was dancing.  “I do.  And I love you too.”

He bent down slightly so he could whisper in her ear, although, with the alcohol running through him, she knew his whispering would probably end up be screaming, just like it was at the dinner table.  “I know I’m not supposed to say this but you’re the prettiest girl in the room.  Even with Alannah in her wedding dress.”

Bee couldn’t help but give him a look – somewhat appreciative, somewhat disapproving.  She knew now that it was the alcohol talking.  “Stop.”

“I’m being serious.  This dress is doing things to me,” he said, his hand wandering further down her back.

“Eeeeeeeasy cowboy,” she giggled, grabbing his hand and bringing it back up to its previous position at the small of her back.  “There are family members around.  Don’t want them getting a bad impression.”

“Imagine if they knew how loud you scream my name.”

A shiver ran up Bee’s spine at Morgan’s words.  “Morgan.”

“Imagine how loud it’ll be tonight,” he continued, whispering into her ear.  “Imagine how loud you’ll be after I peel that dress off of you and call you my good girl.”

“Morgan, stop,” she stressed, looking beyond Morgan to see Lucy pouting her lip at them, mouthing the words ‘So cute!’.  If she only knew what he was saying instead of the sweet nothings she probably thought he was saying.  There were a lot of people on the dance floor, too, and God help her if one of them had supersonic hearing.  

“Is it pink?”

“Is what pink?”

“Whatever’s under this dress.”

Bee couldn’t help but roll her eyes.  “You’re just gonna have to wait and see,” she said coyly.  “Besides, by the rate you’re drinking now, you might not last long enough to see me in it.”

That got Morgan’s attention.  He looked at her wide-eyed, shaking his head.  “No.  No.  No,” he said quickly, garnering a giggle from Bee.  “I am not – no – I am not passing out before I see what’s under there.”

“Good choice, Morgan,” she winked at him.

A grin still managed to make its way across his face.  They continued to slow dance together.  Bee noticed Aryne resting her head on John’s shoulder as they danced together.  She even saw Kappy and Willy dancing together, holding each other in their arms as Cassie filmed it.  They were already hammered.  Cassie would have her hands full tonight.  “I still meant what I said before.  You’re the prettiest girl in this room,” Morgan said again, smiling down at her.  “You’re the prettiest girl in every room.”

“You flatter me too much.”

“Cause you deserve it.”

Bee couldn’t help but smile, leaning her head in the crook of his neck.  “And you’re the best boyfriend in the world,” she whispered, relaxing in his arms.  

Eventually, everybody came back out onto the dance floor.  Connor Brown had a tray full of shots for everyone and Fred carried other drinks for them, including a gin and tonic for Bee, and they all began to dance some more.  She felt slightly buzzed as she danced along with everyone, laughing and giggling and incorporating some truly heinous dance moves.  When the DJ played Lizzo – a four song set of “Boys”, “Good as Hell”, “Juice”, and “Truth Hurts”, everybody went crazy.  The girls were singing along at the top of their lungs, dancing and acting out the lyrics as much as possible.  The boys, to their credit, were graciously playing along, dancing and moving their hips, pointing to their bowties during “Boys” and pretending to check the girls’ nails and flip their non-existent hair during “Good as Hell”.  Tyler – a surprisingly excellent dancer – ended up dancing with Bee and swinging her back and forth along to the beat of “Juice”, indulging her by pretending to grind up against her when the lyrics “The juice ain’t worth the squeeze if the juice don’t look like this”.  Everyone around them whooped and hollered as Morgan danced towards her too, backing his ass up towards her body on the other side, putting her in a hockey-player-grinding-sandwich.  Bee was laughing so much she couldn’t dance anymore, covering her face until Alannah pulled her out and subbed Zach into the sandwich so she could dance with her.  

When the DJ played an entire 90s-Eurodance set, the European boys went nuts.  Kasperi and Willy went crazy with their dancing and jumping around, and Fred – oh my God, Fred – he was doing it along with them, his big body jumping and grooving along to the music that he apparently loved so much.  Perhaps he had fond memories of it growing up.  In any case, everybody eventually joined in with them, Cassie filming the whole thing on her phone.

When the DJ announced the late night food stations, the girls still didn’t leave the dance floor since the music was so good.  Instead, the men left and came back soon after with the goodies – poutine, Angus beef sliders, grilled cheese sandwiches, and fried chicken.  When the boys brought the piles of food back, the girls screamed in excitement.  

“I brought you poutine,” Fred smiled drunkenly as he showed her the steaming bowl of fries, gravy, and cheese curds.  Aryne was already digging into a grilled cheese sandwich and Cassie was filming herself eating a fry dangling from Kasperi’s mouth.  “I already ate some.  Sorry.”

“You brought me poutine?!” Bee was ready to cry at his words.  Fred nodded his head, a giant smile on his face as he set the bowl down on the table.  Bee wrapped her arms around his big shoulders and pressed a kiss onto his cheek.  “Freddie, you are the absolute best person on the planet.”

“Hey, what am I, chopped liver?” Morgan demanded playfully, holding a plate of fried chicken.  “I brought you fried chicken!”

“Well I’m eating the poutine first,” she stuck out her tongue at him, grabbing a fork and digging into the poutine.  

Another shot at the bar with Zach, Alannah, and all the hockey guests happened after everybody finished eating, followed by another gin and tonic for Bee.  Group pictures – so many group pictures – were posed for (and no doubt uploaded to Instagram).  More dancing with Fred and Tyler, more slow dancing with Morgan.  By the end of the night, everybody watched from the sidelines as Zach and Alannah danced to their last dance together.  

Morgan and Bee stood off to the side, Bee’s back to his chest as he had his arms wrapped around her waist.  Bee could feel Morgan’s chin resting on top of her head, and slowly but surely, he moved down so he could rest it against her shoulder.  When she shifted her eyes to look at him, she saw a simple, loving smile on his face.

His eyes were looking at Zach and Alannah, but his mind was elsewhere.

***

Morgan and Bee were giggly as they stumbled into his apartment, kissing whenever they could, grabbing wherever they could.  Bee worked on untying Morgan’s tie while his hands were busy groping her ass through he dress.  He kicked off his shoes and she hers, and he helped her unzip her dress to reveal her pink underwear and bra.  He drunkenly grabbed handfuls of her ass before they fell onto the bed together, dragging each other further onto the bed as Morgan’s large body loomed over hers.  She worked at the buttons of his shirt before pushing the material off, then worked at his belt as he kissed her all over – wet, sloppy kisses; butterfly kisses; nipping kisses that left soft bite marks on her skin; long kisses that were sure to leave hickeys.  

The way he was kissing her felt different tonight.  It wasn’t that he was holding back.  And it wasn’t that he was drunk, either (well, half-drunk – he had the wherewithal to be gentle with the zipper of her dress so he didn’t break it).  It just felt…different.  There were moments where he’d stop and look at her, his mouth open as their lips traced each other’s, but his blue eyes would be piercing hers, as if he couldn’t believe she was below him, her legs wrapped around his torso pressing his body against hers.  Then he’d start kissing her again, and his hands would wander along her sides, and it felt like there was even more meaning than there usually was behind his kisses.  Like there was something he was trying to say with them, something that he couldn’t say with words, or something that he was trying not to say.

“Our wedding’s gonna be all flowers,” he mumbled suddenly against her lips.

Her body stiffened slightly at his words.  Okay, so maybe he had no filter right now.  Maybe the alcohol was still coursing through his veins and he was a bit more than half-drunk.  “Flowers?”

“Mmm,” he smiled, biting her bottom lip.  “Cause you love them so much.  Lots of flowers.  All the flowers in the world.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his reasoning.  The fact that he was even thinking about this stuff, and then saying it with no filter, made the butterflies in her stomach flutter.  She knew it must have been because of the wedding.  She couldn’t help but feel a sense of giddiness.  They always said drunk words are sober thoughts, and, well…she was going to get to the bottom of this.  “What else?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“Good food.  Raw oyster bar,” he continued in between kisses.  “You in lace.”

“Lace?” she giggled slightly.  

“Mhm,” he nodded slightly, moving down to her neck.  “The dress and whatever’s underneath it.  You know how lace is my favourite.”

“You’re lucky it’s my favourite too,” she said, moving to unclasp her bra and toss it to the side.  “What else?”

“Vancouver or Toronto – doesn’t matter.  Just somewhere nice,” he continued, kissing down her body and over her breasts.  “You pick.  You pick everything.  Whatever you want.  But the flowers.  You love flowers.”

He hooked his fingers into her underwear and slid off her panties, pulling his own underwear down right after.  She took the initiative to flip him over so he was on his back, and climbed on top of him to straddle him.  She grabbed his cock in her hands and stroked it a few times.  She couldn’t help but admit that she loved this.  She didn’t know where it was coming from, but she loved it.  She wanted more.  She wanted to know it all.  “Where are we going for our honeymoon?” she smiled, biting her lip as she lowered herself on to his cock.

It took Morgan a few moments to answer – he was too busy relishing in the feeling of his cock inside of her and watching it disappear into her.  “Positano,” he gulped.  “If I don’t get to take you there before then.  So you can see the giant lemons.”

“Oh yeah?” she breathed out, bottoming out, putting her hands on his broad chest.

He nodded, gulping again.  His hands squeezed at her hips.  “Or Bora Bora.  France.  Lake Como.  New Zealand.  Antarctica.  Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere with you, baby.”

“Then we’re going anywhere,” he agreed.

Bee couldn’t help but smile as she began to rock back and forth.  As the less drunk of the two, she took it upon herself to do most of the work, knowing Morgan would probably appreciate it.  “It’s so deep baby,” she moaned, one of her hands going to her clit.  “God, it’s so fucking deep.”

“I’d go to Turkmenistan if you wanted to go there,” he continued, his mind apparently still stuck on their earlier words.

She couldn’t help but laugh, surprised that he even knew it was a country.  “Okay, stud,” she giggled out.

“I mean it.  You tell me what you want, where you want to go and we’re going.”

She leaned down so her breasts were pressed up against his chest.  She kissed him a few times before smiling at him.  “I want you to make love to me,” she purred against his lips.

With a flash in Morgan’s eyes, he took the initiative to wrap his arms around her and flip her over so she was on her back below him.  He fucked her nice and slow, and passionate, and loving, giving her the same kisses as he was earlier, a mix of sticking his tongue down her throat and tracing his lips onto hers as he looked down at her, his big blue eyes searching for something within her that she didn’t know he was looking for.

“You think about this stuff too, right?” he asked, his tone of voice almost worried as he looked down at her.  

She nodded her head.  Yes, she did.  She did think about this stuff.  She thought about what her future would be like with Morgan.  She thought about marriage, about children, about raising a family.  She thought about growing together.  How could she not?  He was the love of her life.  It was so clear that he was.  He was everything that she could have asked for in a partner, and she’d be a liar if she said she hadn’t thought about it.  She saw the look in his eyes.  She heard his tone of voice.  As if he had anything to worry about.  “Of course I do,” she kept nodding.  “All the time.”

He didn’t say another word.  Instead, after some more work on his part, he felt her walls clench around him and he exploded within her, filling her up as he always did, cock twitching at the feeling.  She kept her legs wrapped around him as he collapsed on top of her, falling into a quiet, gentle, contented sleep.

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 5

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle.  It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes.  With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays.  Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3  |  Masterlist

—

Saturday

Rose stretched out on her sofa, closing her eyes and trying to relax.  Tony was sprawled out on the carpet in front of her, glued to the telly and his favorite movie – today, Toy Story.

As the movie played in the background she tried to organize her thoughts about Wallace’s will, tried to determine when or how the old man had gotten the idea for her and Malcolm to marry.  She couldn’t even remember if the three had ever been in the same room together prior to the funeral; usually she would go visit him if Malcolm was away or otherwise unable to make his thrice-weekly visit, and even that had only been a dozen or so times over the last few years since Wallace had moved to the assisted living facility.

Was he starting to lose his mental facilities?  For his age the man had been sharp, hampered only by his body beginning to fail to the point where he could no longer stay at home.  She knew Malcolm and Clara had lived with him after leaving Scotland, staying in the family townhouse ever since, had done everything possible to keep him there.  Did he misunderstand my position in Malcolm’s life?  Did he think somehow we were more than that?

The very thought of more with Malcolm made her breath catch, desire and longing and fear fighting for top billing in her heart.  If only he wasn’t Clara’s dad, she lamented once again, as she had so often since realizing she was-

A knock on the door broke her concentration, and with a sigh, she swung her legs off the couch and stood up.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back,” she spoke to her brother’s back, rolling her eyes when he ignored her, totally engrossed in Buzz and Woody’s first meeting.

There’s a dirty joke in there, somewhere, she mused, checking the peephole out of habit before freezing.  Shit.  Shit shit shit.  Should I pretend I’m not-

“I know you’re home,” Malcolm said dryly from the other side of the door, “let me in, would you?  Your neighbor’s giving me an evil eye.”

Undoing the lock, Rose swung the door open to reveal her boss.  “You probably deserve it.”  But she smirked as she said it, and after a moment, he shook his head.

“I stop by to check on you after you leave work early ‘feeling sick’ – for the first time in eight years, I’ll add – and this is the thanks I get?”

“That was literally twenty-four hours ago.  I appreciate your promptness.” Stepping aside she let him in, locking the door as he waited in the entryway.  “Seriously, what’re you doing here?”  She couldn’t remember a single time he’d shown up unannounced; the minor tweaks to their routine in the past few days had her more rattled than she’d care to admit, this being just another one on the growing list.

Malcolm shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets and glancing towards the living room.  “Hot date?”

“Love of my life,” she said truthfully enough, lips quirking.  “Is this a conversation better had in private?”

“Probably.”

Rose nodded, not waiting for him to follow as she made her way through the joint living/dining area, saying, “Tony, my boss is here.  We’re going to talk in my bedroom, ok?  Just give me a shout if you need anything.”

“Okay.”

Once inside she shut the door and turned, realizing a beat too late that she had just led her boss into her bedroom.  And the bad decisions just keep on coming.

To his credit Malcolm had stopped awkwardly in the middle of the room, glancing around with clear interest.  “So…”

“So.”  She gestured to the bench at the foot of her bed for him to sit, pulling her vanity chair over to face him.  “What’s up?”

He let out a deep breath, staring down at his hands and examining them as if he’d never seen them before.  “First, I want to apologize.  The… terms of Wallace’s will were as much a surprise to me as they were to you.  Had I known, I certainly would have- well, I don’t honestly know what his intentions were, but I sure as fuck would’ve asked.  I did speak to his solicitor, but they have clear documentation that he was in his right mind, so there’s no chance of invalidating it in favor of a previous version which included no strings, unfortunately.”

Pausing, he peered up at her, but all she could offer him was a shrug.

“Okay.”

“Erm, right.  So.  That leaves us with three options.  Number one, do nothing.  Always appealing, but in this case, that’s the end of the Foundation and everything we- I have.  Two – fight the will in court, try to get the condition stricken from it, but I expect that would be a long and ultimately fruitless and expensive battle.  And three… to- well- capitulate.”

Rose nodded, having already determined that for herself.  “And what are you thinking?”

“That I don’t want things to change,” he said honestly, offering her a wry smile.  “I love the work that we do, the way that we do it.  I believe in everything the Foundation does.  To lose it – and everything else I have – is a terrifying thought.  But I have no right to ask that much of you.”

“No, you don’t,” she agreed, before sighing.  “But that doesn’t mean I can’t offer.”

“What?”  Malcolm’s head snapped up, eyes going comically wide as he stared at her.  “I don’t- what?”

“I’m not giving you an answer,” Rose maintained, shrugging, “but… that also means I’m not saying no.  I feel the same way about the Foundation, and I hate to think of all of that disappearing.  But it’s a lot.  I just… I don’t know.”

To her relief he didn’t look mad, not that she had genuinely expected him to.  “Right.  What next, then?  Do you want to discuss it all?  Shall I leave you alone?”

“No!” Rose blurted when he tried to stand.  “I mean, yes, let’s talk. If- if- I said… yes, what would that involve?  What would it mean?  To you, for us- everything, I mean.  Just… what?” Pressing her lips together tightly she cursed her own inarticulation, annoyed with herself.  She had worked hard to build her reputation as being unflappable, of professionalism and efficiency, and this whole situation was throwing that all out of the window.

Damn you, Wallace.

Blinking, Malcolm sat back down, running his fingers through his hair.  “Well- I mean- in many ways, nothing would have to change.  I suppose.”

She arched an eyebrow when he paused.

“What?  Right.  Erm, I would never expect- that is to say- I wouldn’t… nothing would change personally.  Legally, we’d- well.  And you would- could- move into the townhouse, and you know perfectly well that there are plenty of guest rooms.”  He swallowed, eyes skittering around the room before returning to her.  “There’s something you should know, that Clara doesn’t.  Or at least, we’ve never discussed – I suppose her mother could have told her. Or she found out on her own.”

“And that is…” Rose prompted.

Malcolm’s lips twisted.  “The ‘estate’ is an actual estate.  And… a title.”

She was glad to be sitting, as for just a moment the world went sideways.  “What?  A title?  Since when!”

“Since always.  Centuries.  It’s fairly minor, just a Viscount, but it does exist and goes with the estate.  Well, it is the estate, technically.”

“So Wallace had a title as well?  What is it, anyway?”

“Yes, he never wanted to use it, but it was always there.  Viscount Gallifrey is the title itself.”

Rose closed her eyes briefly, concentrating on her breathing to keep from getting dizzy.  “Sorry, so if we- if I-”

“Viscountess.”

“Whoa.”

His lips twitched.  “Yeah, woah.  I mention it because if we- well, you would…”

“Right.”

Viscountess.  Me?

-

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Malcolm had to fight back a smile as he watched the cogs turn in Rose’s mind.  He knew she wasn’t motivated by the thought of money or a title, but to see his usually-unflappable assistant so rattled was more than a bit amusing.

She’d run a house like clockwork.

The thought was wistful, and it hurt his heart.  If she’d been just anyone, a random woman off the street, he would’ve asked her out years ago.  But, no- she just had to be his daughter’s best friend, and though he could overlook that, she was also the daughter of a business partner – and he never did anything that could risk the Foundation.  He’d been working with Pete Tyler for close to fifteen years, the man and Vitex combined roughly fifteen percent of the Foundation’s non-Gallifrey funding.

I can’t do that to him.

“So, would there be anything to do with that?  Any responsibilities, for me, I mean?”  Rose’s voice pulled him out of his own head, and for a moment, he just blinked at her.

“Oh!  Yes.  I mean, not what it would’ve been a century or two ago, but still yes.  Nothing too different from your current duties, mostly overseeing things.  We have a full staff at the estate itself, who manage everything for us.  Mrs. Cooper would report to you, as she currently does to me.  It shouldn’t add to your workload too much.”

She nodded, still looking lost in thought, and he tried to think of anything else she would have to know, uncertain of what he wanted her answer to be; his heart wanted her to say yes, but his head knew she would have to say no.  I can’t lose her.  “Erm, just a note- there aren’t any official engagements or duties or anything.  Not that I would attend or deal with, at least; no invitations to court, no hobnobbing with the aristocracy.  You’re not- you wouldn’t be joining the royal family, or anything.  So you know.”

“That’s a relief,” Rose grinned wryly.  “I’ve never been a fan of playing nice with the uppity-ups.”

Malcolm scoffed, shaking his head in favor of replying.  She was easily the most charming person he knew, able to win over everyone she’d ever met with very few exceptions.  He suspected, deep in the cavern of her chest where a heart would normally reside, even Missy liked her – and his ex-wife didn’t like anyone.  Often including their daughter.  You’re in too deep.

“I should go,” he decided on the fly, standing abruptly without consciously deciding to.  “Let you enjoy your weekend.  Listen, whatever you decide, obviously I understand and support you.  But, please- don’t feel obligated.  I want you to be happy.”

“Oh… okay.”  Rose’s face flushed.  “I just… I just don’t know.”

He nodded.  “I understand.  Take some time.  And if you have any conditions or… compensation in mind, draw up a list and we can talk when you’re ready.  You know I’m reasonable.”  That wasn’t strictly true, but when it came to Rose, he found himself hard-pressed to say no to anything she suggested; it was why he ate salads for lunch twice a week after all, despite his detest for leafy greens.

Way, way too deep.

“Well, thanks for stopping by,” Rose said, as they made their way back through the flat to the front door.  “I’ll think about it.”

“Let me know if you need to talk.”

With another smile and a soft bye she closed the door, and he waited until he heard the deadbolt slide into place to turn and head for the lift, avoiding her neighbor’s glare peering from a crack in the door.

Stepping out onto the sidewalk and turning up his coat collar against the wind, he debated where to go.  On a Saturday he had few options for company; since moving to London he’d always spent the day with Wallace (and Clara, in her younger years), and he once again felt the loss of his uncle keenly.  It’s only been a month, but feels like years.  Since his passing he’d been left adrift, with Clara busy with her boyfriend and Rose with Tony, nevermind the awkwardness of the will hanging over them.

With a sad sigh he headed down the block towards where Graham was parked, deciding to head into the office.

Might as well work while I still can.

[dcbbw]

Wine and Whiskey

This is a one-off request for Drake x MC/Riley. It my version of the conversation that takes place in Olivia’s wine cellar during the social season, where Drake and MC share a drink. This post is NSFW. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please excuse any typos and/or grammatical errors.

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Song Inspiration: You Can Keep Your Hat On, Joe Crocker: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hfgwrdYUQ2A

Word Count: 2340

Tags: @gennesaret @cora-nova @carabeth @hopefulmoonobject @katedrakeohd @aworldoffandoms @lauradowning29

Drake X MC, Drake X Riley, Drake Walker

 Drake Walker waits in the Nervakis wine cellar. He had come across it during his wanderings through the stately mansion as he avoided the pomp and preparation of the formal dinner. Some dinner. Seated at the very back of the room, at a table that was invisible to all servers. If Brooks hadn’t of “fainted”, there would not have even been a bowl of lobster bisque to split three ways: Drake, Brooks, Hana.  Drake felt so bad for Hana…she did not deserve that treatment. Well, none of them did, but he was used to the commoner treatment. Brooks was used to being snubbed and short-changed by the noble ladies. Ladies. Hah. More like pure-bred bitches. The lot of them can go jump off a cliff, if I don’t push them over first. But Hana, she had done nothing except befriend Brooks, and for that, she was being banished to Social Season Siberia.

When he first came across the wine cellar, he ambled around, checking out the vintages of the wines, and was very impressed that Olivia had such exquisite taste in wine. He really had not given it another thought, until he saw Brooks was sitting in exile at the table with him. Hana who? The three of them were sitting at the table waiting for a meal that would never come, and he was telling Brooks and Hana about coming across it. Brooks cracked a joke about drinking at least a bottle of the wine as revenge, and next thing Drake knew, he was blurting out an invitation for Brooks to meet him later that evening in the wine cellar.

Now, he was sitting in the basement, drinking a shot of whiskey, waiting for a woman he could never have to come keep him company. Drake was not sure when or how it happened, but he was completely smitten with Brooks. Sure, she was pretty and smart, and tenacious to hold her own or die trying. She saw through the bullshit. Yet, there was so much more to her than that. Brooks had layers, and he wanted to expose and learn each one.  But she isn’t here for you. Your best friend can offer her an entire kingdom, and she is upstairs right now competing for his attention, his affections. Meanwhile, you are sitting here, with your dick in hand, and pie in the sky dreams.

He turned his head as he heard light footsteps on the stairs, then smiled a little as Brooks came into view. She had a scowl on her face, which caused him to raise an eyebrow. “There you are, Brooks. I was beginning to think you didn’t have the guts to show up. You know, out after and curfew and all that.”

“Oh, please Drake….I have more than enough guts to keep up with you.” She flashed him a smile to take the sting out of her words.  “This has been one pissy evening. No food, Maxwell forgets to teach me the Cordonian Waltz, and then Liam kisses Olivia. In front of everybody.”

“Heh. Liv can be pretty insistent.”

”Doesn’t mean he had to respond. And then takes her outside.”

“Outside? Really?” Liam, what the hell are you doing?

“Yeah, really. Says he talked to her privately so as not to embarrass her. Whatever. He is waiting for me right now, you know.  In the east wing. Says he wants to show me the view from the hot tub.”

“Sounds like you have options. And maybe a decision to make.”

“I’m drinking. What’s on the menu, barkeep?” Drake grinned and inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. For all of Olivia’s shitty ways, Lythikos may be the best stop yet on this social season tour. He had gotten to spend a lot of alone time with Brooks skiing and star gazing, and now….drinks and conversation. Enjoy it while you can.

“So what’ll you have? Pretentious, expensive wine or a real drink?” He held his flask of whiskey up.

“Pretentious and expensive, please.”

“That’s savage, Brooks.” Riley shrugged. Drake poured the drinks, and they clinked glasses. “Cheers.”

Riley took a deep swallow of the wine, and closed her eyes in bliss. “Ahhhhh. So velvety, so smooth. I see why nobles love their wines.” She looked over at Drake. “How are you holding up? I know how you feel about nobles and pageantry.”

Drake shook his head as his eyes held hers. “Okay, I guess. It just seems so pointless and wasteful.” Drake paused as he searched for words. “I know it seems as if I complain all the time when I really don’t have to do anything except show up to support Liam, but it isn’t a free ride by any means. My father gave his life protecting Constantine, and not two weeks later, the Court was ready to put me and my family on the street. Liam was the one who advocated for us, and promised us a home at the Palace for as long as we needed it. He’s the only noble worth a damn, the only reason I stay around.”  

“Oh, Drake.” Riley said softly, putting her hand on his arm.

Drake briefly looked at her hand, and continued. “So yeah, I see past the fake smiles, the false concern, and the glitter and glamour. These nobles don’t care about anyone but themselves, and your usefulness to them. They know nothing about the moments in between.”

“The moments in between?” There was confusion in Riley’s voice.

“They live in these huge ass mansions, but don’t bother to look at the architecture. They sit in fancy chairs, but don’t take the time to appreciate the craftsmanship. The time people took to create these things they collect like stamps. They don’t appreciate the flavors and vintages of the drinks they hold, just the cost. Not a one of them appreciates the art of an honest conversation, they just want to sway you to their ideas, their politics, and one-up each other. They are so busy acquiring, they don’t have time to appreciate the acquisitions.”

Riley nodded in understanding. “The moments in between. There haven’t been many so far. “

Drake looked at Brooks with relief and appreciation. She gets it. He had been a little afraid to bare his soul to her, but if anyone could slip through the cracks in the walls he had built over the years, it was her. She had been slipping in since the plane ride to Cordonia.

“Drake, what do you think of me?” Whoa. Where did that come from?

He poured them each another drink before answering. “I think my best friend is falling in love with you, so what I think of you is irrelevant. You’re here for him. He can offer you the literal world, and me…..I can’t come close to that.”

“Not an answer, Drake. And right now, you are offering me a moment in between. You are giving freely what Liam can only parcel out.”

Drake’s eyes darkened as he let out a deep breath. “I think you are amazing, and beautiful, and you make me want to let down all the walls and guards I have. I feel like I want to kiss you and either kill the dream or fuel the fantasies I have about you.” His eyes met hers over his glass. “Better?”

“It would be better if you kiss me.” Drake whipped his head to look at her. That’s the wine talking.

As if she could read his mind, Riley sat the wine glass on the table. “I’m not drunk Drake, but I am curious.”

Riley came over to Drake, her face mere inches from his. Don’t do it! DO NO DO THIS! Liam really, really, really likes this woman. This could hurt everybody. This will change things! DO NOT KISS HER!

“What the hell”, Drake growled. His mouth crashed onto hers, his hands holding her cheeks. His hands are rougher than Liam’s, Riley thought.  His tongue was demanding and insistent. Riley felt as if she were both floating and drowning from his kiss. She threw her arms around his neck, leaning further into the kiss.

Drake broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he stared into her eyes. “We’d better stop.”

“I don’t want to.” Her tone was both pleading and defiant.

“Liam…” Drake’s voice trailed off.

“I have never been with Liam, and he has nothing to do with this. This is between me and you, Walker.” She kissed him again. Urgently. Passionately. Well, hell.

Drake pulled her tightly to him, wrapping his strong arms around Brooks as his hands explored her back. Kissing her with the desperation of a drowning man trying to come up for air. His fingers fumbled with the zipper of her dress, but soon enough the dress fell to the floor with a soft whoosh. “Take me Drake.” With pleasure.

He undressed hurriedly, never breaking eye contact with Brooks. Riley’s eyes looked him over appreciatively, her eyes widening when she saw his manhood extending from his curly pubic hair. Long, thick, veiny.  Once he was naked, he scooped her up and carried her to the end of the table and sat her down. He leaned in to capture her in another kiss. His tongue was insistent, exploring her mouth. Riley’s hands ran through his hair as his hands unclasped her bra. Riley shrugged out of it. Drake’s calloused hands rubbed and played with her breasts as his kisses trailed down the side of her neck.

He went lower, grabbing an erect nipple in his mouth, gently biting it. Riley gasped. Drake pulled the nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. He took his hands to push her breasts together, and he pulled both nipples in his mouth, nibbling, licking, sucking. Riley pulled his head closer into her as her breathing became faster.

Drake felt the excitement in his cock, and with a groan, pulled himself away from her perfect breasts. He lifted his head, and let Riley pull him into another kiss as his hand roughly pushed her panties to one side. He inserted a finger inside of her, and almost lost it right then and there. She was so wet, so tight. He began to pump his finger in and out, while Riley thrust her hips against the table. He could feel her getting close, but he wanted to prolong the sensations. He wanted more of her before this all came to an end. He slowly removed his finger, and licked her juices off before putting it in his mouth to suck it clean.

“More, Drake…..I want more.”

He pushed her back on the table, helping her pull her panties off, while pushing her legs apart. His tongue darted out, licking her clit. She sucked in her breath at his touch. His tongue explored her slick folds as his finger began pumping in and out of her again. He ate her like he was starving man, and this was his first meal in days, and his last meal for months. He licked, lapped, sucked as Riley moaned and pulled him by his hair deeper into her center. I can’t hold out much longer.

Without a word, he pulled her from the table, and bent her over the bar stool. Placing his hands on her hips, he plunged his thick cock into her, and groaned. Oh Jesus. He could feel her walls pulsating around him. He pumped in and out of her furiously. He had always imagined being with Brooks being more soft and gentle, but he wanted her so badly. To know that she wanted him too had him wanting to take her quickly, in an almost primal way. It helped knowing Liam had not been with her. That he was the first, after a lifetime of being last.

Their bodies slapped together, Riley’s grunts a sexual duet with his growls. Until he felt her walls convulsing around his cock as she let out controlled yells. She’s a screamer.  He felt himself falling into an abyss of pure pleasure as he let out a yell of his own. He quickly removed his cock from her and released himself all over her asscheeks.

He collapsed on top of her back, wrapping his hands around her waist as they lay there in silence, panting and sweating. Once their breathing became normal again, he grabbed his white tee shirt to clean her up. He avoided her eyes as they dressed.

“Drake, where does this leave us?” I want to be with you forever and ever.

“Seems that is more your call, Brooks. You know I am here for you, but we both know who you are here for.” Riley’s face was unreadable as she considered his answer.

“Hey, we better get out of here. Early day tomorrow and all that.” Riley nodded. She helped him tidy up and leave the wine cellar as they found it, minus one bottle of wine.  He held her hand as he led her upstairs.

They stood in the hall after carefully closing the wine cellar door behind them, both unsure what to do. As they stood at the bottom of the staircase, they both saw the flickering light at the end of the east wing hall.

Liam’s waiting for her.

Drake looked down at Brooks."I can walk you to the east wing if you’d like.” Riley looked at the light for a moment too long, and back at Drake.

Extending her hand to him, she spoke. “Actually, I would like it if you escorted me to my room, please.”

[marielcreativenon-fiction]

GREGORIO,MARIEL

 AUTHOBIOGRAPHY Mei Joy Flamiano is the daughter of Melchora Flamiano and Joly Flamiano. She was born on June 2,1991 in the Sitio military, Bahay Toro Quezon City. She started her early education in Toro Hills Elementary education and graduated in Kindergarten as top of her class. She and her family then transferred to their hometown in Idio, Sebaste, Antique to cotinue her studies as well as her sibling Jomel Flamiano. She was a studious student and consistent honor student from grade 1 to grade 6. She is also constant participant in all extra curicular activities, particular in declamation and singing contest. She excelled in math and science and graduated valedictorian of her batch 2003. Her parents decided to let her study in a private school for her secondary education where she learned about leadership. She is still a consistent topnucher of her batch and always grabs the first place year after year. She studied in St. Blaise High School and during that time after grade 4, her mother went to Taiwan to help send them to school. Her grandmother is the one who took care of them during those times. She learned a lot I St. Blaise High School especially about leadership being the ten elected governor of SSG ( Supreme Student Government) she passed the UPCAT for BS fishermen in UP Ilo-ilo. After four years of learning at school, she graduated valedictorian of the batch 2007. Her mother went home for her to continue her tertiary education. She left her grandparents in their hometown and she was very saddened because she was developed close relationship to her grandmother especially. She wanted to be a teacher or an engineer but her parents want her to be a nurse. She then followed her parents dream for her. She tried to enroll in UP Manila but was not accepted due to late enrollment. She enrolled in Our lady of Fatima University which is the top producers of nurses that time. Her mother went back to Taiwan and she was left with her aunt. She pursued her nursing studies even though it was not her first choice. She came to love nursing as she grew in the field. She got a scholarship due to her valedictorian certificate in High School. She was able to maintain her scholarship all throughout 4 years in nursing and even with difficulties in areas like RLE due to her fear and hesitancy to perform nursing procedures, she graduated with latin honor as Magna Cum Laude. Not long after she also passed the nursing board exam, and got the tenth place over all examine in the Philippines.

BIOGRAPHY WORDS My name is Mariel Gregorio and I was born on the 30th of September 30,2001 in Idio, Sebaste, Antique. My parents were Joel Gregorio and Maricel Gregorio, and I have two oldest brother and they are Joemar Gregorio and Brian Gregorio. My teenage life was never been easy, when I was 12 years old I’m with my family we are living in a simple house. With three rooms and every room have it own comfort room, one for my parents and one room for my brothers, I have my own room that makes me comfortable, very colorful room with pink bed and has a blue curtain. I have my closet in the left side and many things like guitar and ukulele. In the left side is my cute table with a flower base planted with my favorite flower witch is sun flower. When I open my window you will see a very wide planting area, planted yellowish rice and it smells like fresh greeny leaves. Perfect room didn’t it ? But when I was 17 years old too I’m feeling sad and angry for myself. Because my mama have a favorite child and guess what it’s my  brother Brian his nickname is Yanyan, his skinny, moreno, have a black hair and cute eyes, his hobby is playing basketball, playing guitar he is very sporty person and that’s why I love my brother. He is very supportive to me, but I’m feeling jealous to him. Mama always buying him his a favorite jag and shirt and also his favorite food which is siomai. One day while I’m playing guitar with my friends Jj and Kulot in the sala. I see how my mama pack a lunch for my brother and fix his shirt in his neck and it’s get me jealous. My mama ? She never buy me my favorite shirts, foods and shorts ever. My Mommy do, Mommy is my auntie she is an older sister of my Papa, I love her she making me feel like her own daughter buy buying me my favorite things and by giving me my weekly allowance.I never tell anyone about I’m feeling with my brother except Mommy. She gave me advice like “ Beng don’t get jealous you’re hurting your self your worth of everything so work for that, then one day your mother gonna see your worth” and that words make me a strong and independent woman.

Self-Obituary Melecio “Mileng” Gregorio, age 77, died peacefully on December 26, 2013 in a hospital bed at their hometown Antique, after a courageous battle with different body complications. His passing left his beloved wife Angelina in the care of his 5 grown-up children. Melecio was born on January 6, 1936, and raised in Antique. He focused his life making a living for his 5 children and numerous grandchildren through farming and by serving his townsmen through “Hilot” or massage to treat muscle pain or dislocated joints/bones. Through his skills and passion, he touched many lives and left a legacy not just to his fellow townsmen but for all the people from other cities who sought for his healing. To express condolences, his wake is at their residence in Idio, Sebaste, Antique. Family and friends are also invited to attend a Celebration of Life gathering and burial on January 1, 2014 at Sebaste, Cemetery.

TRAVELOGUE Baguio City, Philippines Baguio City has a low temperature which causes the cold weather. There are deferent kind of crops that can only survive I that kin d of weather like strawberry, lettuce, cabbage, carrots and etc. The livelihood of the people there is wood crafting, paintings, weaving, producing soya products/ jams and growing vegetations. Aside from tourist spots, Baguio also offers zip line, biking and staycation or the family. The first destination that we visited is the strawberry farm. I experience how to pick strawberries and lettuce, it is also a good spot for picture taking. I realize that growing crops like strawberry and lettuce needs delicate care to maintain it’s quality. The second destination that we visited is the Bell House. We entered the abandoned Bell House that has antique furniture and belongings that were left untouched. Some of it is the piano, big mirror and warrior’s armor that has personified notes like “Don’t touch me”, “Don’t sit on me”. There is a graveyard near the Bell House wherein you can bury negative vibes/mindset that you have by reading the noting engraved on the gravestones. The last place that we visited is a place for resting and chilling. The place enables the family to have small talks, get together and reflect. The cold weather help me to unwind take a break from my problems and be free from stressful city life. In addition to my Baguio experience I have learn to be thrifty and be mindful of the things that money should me spent on. It maid me realize that earning money is not a joke, by witnessing how hard it is to work just to earn a living.

Literary Journalism It’s like a crystal glass shattered n pieces A glass that you hold tight but still slipped trough your fingers It’s like an ounce of hope washed away by your tears Where every drop of it, you took years to obtain It’s like feeling the rain after the decades of drought And then suddenly ceases when it touches the ground It’s like a little baby that you cared so much But then leaves you alone when he starts to grow up   It’s like a sharp knife that cuts through your vein It cuts deep, bleeds and causes you pain It’s like a beautiful butterfly that made you so happy But you have to  let go because she needs to be free.

ISSUE: ABS-CBN’s FRANCHISE RENEWAL The Philippine government moved Monday to end the franchise of the country’s leading broadcast network, the latest push by the administration of President Rodrigo Duterte against media outlets that have been critical of his leadership. The Philippine solicitor general, Jose Calida, lodged a complaint with the country’s highest court, accusing ABS-CBN Corp. and its subsidiary, ABS-CBN Convergence, of violating the operating franchise it was granted by Congress, which is set to expire in March. The move comes despite the fact that the House of Representatives has yet to start deliberating several bills supporting the renewal of the franchise. It was not clear how Mr. Calida’s petition would affect that legislation. “We want to put an end to what we discovered to be highly abusive practice of ABS-CBN benefiting a greedy few at the expense of millions of its loyal subscribers,” Mr. Calida said in a statement announcing the move. “These practices have gone unnoticed or were disregarded for years.” But critics of Mr. Duterte say he is on the warpath against media entities that have questioned his drug war, which has drawn international condemnation. ABS-CBN, along with the Filipino online news site Rappler, have been at the forefront of critical reporting about the antidrug campaign, which has left nearly 6,000 people dead since Mr. Duterte took office in 2016. Mr. Calida said the government will prove that ABS-CBN has been broadcasting for a fee, “which is beyond the scope of its legislative franchise.” He also accused the company of hiding behind what he said was an “elaborately crafted corporate veil” by allowing foreign investors to take part in its ownership. He stressed that ABS-CBN “abused the privilege granted by the state” when it introduced a pay-per-view channel without approval by the government’s telecommunications commission. As he has with ABS-CBN, Mr. Duterte has personally gone after Rappler, arguing that it was partly owned by foreign investors. The attempt to shut down Rappler, however, appears to have fizzled after the news site’s foreign investors transferred their shares to their Filipino partners. The National Union of Journalists of the Philippines assailed the move against the network. “This proves without a doubt that this government is hell bent on using all its powers to shut down the broadcasting network,” the union said. “We must not allow the vindictiveness of one man, no matter how powerful, to run roughshod over the constitutionally guaranteed freedoms of the press and of expression, and the people’s right to know.” Mr. Duterte has had particularly tense relations with the media. He and his aides have attacked The New York Times and The Washington Post, and several court cases are pending against Rappler’s chief executive, Maria Ressa. While the Philippine Constitution specifically calls for the separation of powers between the legislative and executive branches, Mr. Duterte has de facto control over the Senate and the House of Representatives through his allies. If the government does succeed in revoking the network’s franchise, ABS-CBN could still most likely operate in some “legal gray zone,” perhaps over the internet, so this would not likely be a death knell for the company, Mr. Heydarian said. “I don’t see any editorial compromise on the part of the ABS-CBN, which is very reassuring in itself,” Mr. Heydarian said. He said that Mr. Duterte appears to have taken from the playbook of President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia, who has also been accused of curtailing freedom of the press. “There are just elements of Putinism here,” Mr. Heydarian said. “We can see some Putin-like crackdown on the independent media, which was part of the Russian strongman’s strategy of consolidating power.” MY OPINION: I think that this news really affects the entire nation because Filipinos are very much influenced by television networks especially ABS CBN because this is the giant network that governs that current media platform in the Philippines. As you can read on this news, this is very one-sided. They are exposing that the President wanted to close  and end the franchise of ABS CN because of their stand on the President’s war against drug. And how they deliberately criticize the government on its plans to implement the law. However, the news doesn’t expose the main reason why the network should be closed. Is there really an abuse of power? Is there really a violation of the right and privileges provided to the network? Does the network really an abusive practice that only benefits  the greedy few  at the expense of the networks’ loyal subscriber? I guess these issues need to be addressed as well and should give people transparency. Personally, I like ABS-CBN most specifically on the entertainment sector. They really provide outstanding and very entertaining programs that most of the Filipinos really like but  I have also observed that in the news reporting

Eyes People are unique individuals. Each on of us has characteristics that are different from one another and those characteristics make us stand out. As people as well, we can describe these characteristics  by using our senses. Most of the time we can already imagine and picture out someone from one’s description of his/her qualities. Today I will describe and cousin and will introduce  her to you by describing her and her qualities, and her features. Before anything else, I would just like to let you know that she is one of a kind not only because of her looks but most importantly, because of her personality. I like her because she is very passionate in whatever she does. She also inspires others, very independent and very confident in her abilities. There are so much to be told about her but in this article, I would focus more on her features and what really stands out from her facial feature. I will also let your mind wander as I describe her to you so you can picture her out. She has a very cute face, cute in a sense that I always want to squeeze her cheeks. She has a high cheek bone and a very contagious smile. Whenever she smiles, it hides her eyes and she’s just so cute to look at. She has white straight teeth that adds to the beauty of her smile. For me, the most beautiful part of her face are her eyes. They are almond- shaped. You can easily notice her eyes and when you look at her face that is the feature that is eye-catching.  She has long eyes. The length from inner canthus to outer canthus is much longer than the average person’s eye. But it enhances her look. It doesn’t look awkward  at all. She has big eyes, the one that makes most of the Asians jealous. Asians are known for having small pointed eyes, and therefore most of us wanted to have big eyes because it just looks like extraordinary. Big eyes enhance other facial features as well. Most Asians undergo plastic surgery just to have bigger eyes or use make up just to make eyes bigger. For her, it is a natural. She has mono-lidded eyes.  A monolid is an eyelid shape that doesn't have a crease. An eye that does have a crease is known as a double eyelid. Monolids are beautiful and special. And of course, I will never forget about her long thick lashes. Those lashes no longer need to be curled or be enhanced by a mascara. The one that you will always notice even if you’re a bit far. Those lashes make her eyes more expressive. I guess I have given most of the things that I like about her and emphasized my most favorite facial feature of hers. I hope that you were able to picture out her face by my description. Those characteristics make her unique. Everyone of us is unique. We also have our own favorite facial feature and beauty comes in different structure sized  and features. What’s most important is that we appreciate and love what we have  and also appreciate others as well.

Braver Love is about receiving and giving something on someone. Love can make you strong and weak at the same time, by loving someone is to giving and receiving something. Giving Isn’t easy but it makes you easier when it’s for someone you love, when you fall in love on someone it’s making you brave. Brave of having a commitment, brave on having a responsibility and when you are that kind of brave ? You deserve someone braved too, brave to catch you to hold your hands in front of more people and brave to fight all battles with you, that someone you can talk all of your rants in life. Love is also a truth, being truth of everything that on someone by telling and showing all nothing but a truth. Being in love for me is being safe, being in love is being embrace by a man/woman love, by spoiling her/him your love by giving them your trust and care. For me, love is like a color violet it maybe hurt your eye because it’s too dark but It’s a violet because of how a love shine. Shining by having a very lovable color and a very strong and darker color. Love is like a crystal glass shattered in a pieces, a glass that you hold tight but still slipped through your fingers. It’s like an ounce of hope washed away by your tears where every drop of it, you took years to obtain its like feeling the rain after decades of drought and then suddenly ceases it touches the ground. It’s like little baby that cared too much but then leave you alone when she starts to grow up, that is love.

UNSAFE Unsafe because she didn’t feel the same us before how they love and care for each part of her family. By having a small problems and getting mad for each other. For me isn’t bad for not being part of a family when you can live without them too, I believe that one day all of them will come and asks for your held, come and seek for your help. But now, let them ignore and criticize you, let them compare you to others. Just be true of what you feel, because for now this is their time and tomorrow is yours. Lift yourself up and believe I yourself because if you’re not? Who will, you can’t when they can. Because when the time that you can they can’t and strive for your dreams, because the easier the smallest thing and the biggest is the hardest. Be and do hard today tomorrow will be your easy part of life. But still your family is still your family don’t get mad at them, just let them see how good their daughter is. For now, study hard and it’s for them too. If they never support you, support yourself because you can. Open your wings and fly high but don’t forget on where you going from and now, know you limitations you’re still discovering yourself but this time with your own. Family problem isn’t a hindrance to success your success, because you can if you want.

EVERY DAY In the movie every day it show their on what true love it is. It has been show that a true love is being sacrificing someone you love. It is a movie of a young man who waking up in different bed and body every day and he is getting in love in a girl. Having a situation of a young man is a hard situation, first he don’t know how to explain his situation. Could you explain how you waking up in the morning in different body, personality and gender ? But slowly he  explain how he was born in this world and he slowly in love in the girl too. To the point that he need to become a gay just to stalk and just to talk to the girl that he feeling in love with. In the middle of the movie the girl is slowly getting in love of him too, the girl being curious of a man personality. she always do searching a man’s account and seeing a different pictures but the same spirit. She don’t know what’s her love will be tomorrow, if a girl or a boy or maybe a lesbian and boyish. But still she felt in love of that personality, that spirit who woke up in different body every day. But spirit on his own he know that he is a boy, who needs a girl to love and understand him. But the sense of why his waking up in the different body is to solve a problem that a body’s his waking up with every day. He solved a life of a lady that have a suicidal thought, he also waking up in his girlfriend body and making a conversation to his girlfriend father. That movie really touch my heart because in the end a spirit of a man is need to go in the U.S just to have his love girlfriend free and for her to be found what’s really he is. His girlfriend let him to go and to let herself to have a the same man every day. It’s a beautiful story of love, a story of sacrificing someone you love.

BIG GIRL Throughout my 18 years of existence in this world I’ve learned many things on my own self and experiences. But one thing really hit me hard and I really learned as I grow up is how to become independent standing on my own is my greatest achievements in my life. Not because I am independent I don’t sick help from my parents or eldest. It’s just that I don’t easily seek help for my small problems or small things. I learned not to be so independent on my parents if I know that I could do things on my own. When I entered grade XII I have to live with my auntie, she is the oldest sister of my father so I have to leave my hometown Idio, Sebaste, Antique just to seek more opportunity here on the City of Imus. That day I knew that I have to live my life not being used to have my parents by my side. At first I really made a big adjustment not just on my surroundings but also waking up everyday I can’t longer see my parents early in the morning helping me do my stuffs as I will go to school. I do really appreciate my mama and papa but I want to stand in my own too, I want to discover new things without them because I believe in the saying “There is no permanent in the world except changes’’. So I need to stand in my own without them and live a life without them too

[samwpmarleau]

Rhaella x Doran her first Yule/Winterfest/whatever in Dorne and the Martells giving her gifts that actually suit her and her interests. I head canon that Rhaella was an accessory and afterthought to her parents- Aerys was the Heir and her parents were narcissists so Rhaella got expensive crap that she hated (she wants books, they give itchy clothes in colors that wash her out, etc)

Another anon asked: I love your Rhaella x Doran fics!! Would it be possible to get a baby betrothed Rhaella post Summerhall worrying that her father will try & force her to marry Aerys, only for Doran or Loreza to swear that will never happen.

@riana-one asked: I think I owe a few fics at this point but could you do Doran x Rhaella happily married & dealing with the political specter of Aerys’s growing instability?

Holidays are among Rhaella’s favorite days of the year. The gaiety, the feasts, the mummers’ productions, she loves seeing it all. What she doesn’t much care for are the gifts she is given to accompany the holidays. Her septa had taught her to be gracious to be given anything, and yet it is as if no one knows her interests at all.

She finds little use for material things, and yet that is almost all anyone bothers with. Heavy earrings and necklaces that weigh her down, hideous and scratchy dresses she would rather use as curtains than wear, garish golden statues that she shoves in her bureau instead of displays. She would rather no gifts at all.

When she makes her new home in Dorne as Prince Doran’s betrothed, she expects more of the same, if perhaps of a different style–silk instead of cloth-of-gold, perhaps, or lapis lazuli instead of rubies.

And so she is surprised when on Maiden’s Day she is adorned not with earrings or a necklace but with a crown fashioned entirely of colorful blooms and The Loves of Queen Nymeria. She thanks everyone, down to little Elia who had helped pick out the flowers, and actually means it.

The crown wilts within the week, but Rhaella’s delight blossoms.

The next year brings with it horror, shock, sadness, and guilt. Rhaella is invited to the gathering of her family at Summerhall, but the thought of seeing her parents, her parents who have never warmed to her betrothal, makes her shy away. She does not want to leave the comforts of Dorne only to be berated and insulted, going hoarse from how often she must defend herself and her family-to-be.

So, she writes Grandfather and tells him she won’t be attending. He writes back to ask her to reconsider, adding in something cryptic about dragons that makes her shiver for reasons she doesn’t know. Still, she refuses, and so he promises to visit one day.

When the news reaches Sunspear of the conflagration that consumed Grandfather, Uncle Duncan, Ser Dunk, Great-aunt Rhae and two of her children, too many servants to name, and leaves Aunt Jenny nearly mad with grief, Rhaella can’t comprehend it. Loreza has to inform her thrice before she fully realizes it is no joke. Worse still, no one can figure out exactly how the disaster happened, other than rumors of wildfire–but, everyone asks, why would there be wildfire there to begin with?

She goes to the burial ceremony in King’s Landing, though it feels an empty affair, for there is nothing left to bury. The fire had consumed even the ashes. The crowns her family had left behind are burned instead, as though that is any compensation.

Father is king now, Mother his queen, and that feels an odd thing. As days pass, the court in full mourning, Rhaella begins to notice her parents looking at her not with disdain but with calculation. Her skin crawls, dread growing, until one day she seeks out both Doran and Loreza. She crosses paths with Aunt Rhaelle on her way, and her fear must be awfully apparent, for Aunt insists on knowing the cause.

“I think they will try to marry me to Aerys now that Grandfather’s gone,” she admits to the three of them. Doran’s eyebrows knit together, and Loreza and Aunt share a glance. “I’m not wed yet and Father is king. He could break the betrothal and command this.”

“That will never happen,” says Loreza at once. “I will not let it.”

Aunt reaches out and pats Rhaella’s hand, her black eyes determined. “Nor I, Ella.”

“But how?” Rhaella asks. She thinks of herself, just five-and-ten, and Doran, three years younger. “We are not old enough to wed yet.”

“Who’s to say?” Aunt asks, once more exchanging a loaded glance with Loreza. “No one need know there will be no bedding until later. We can have the ceremony at Storm’s End, even. Maester Cressen is a close friend, I am certain he would declare you no longer a maiden if need arose.”

Rhaella had not expected this…this haste. She is not ready to add the title of wife. “But–”

“Yes,” says Loreza, energized. “Yes, and no one could claim Dornish trickery in Storm’s End.”

“Even if it is,” Rhaelle smiles. “They do so often forget I am a viper, too.”

With that, what had started as Rhaella merely wanting to air her fears and receive some comfort becomes a scheme to have her married in a matter of months.

It is a mild scandal, when all is said and done, but true to Aunt’s word, there is no bedding–just a kiss to seal the vows, a Martell cloak wrapped around her shoulders. She hears tell of her parents’ wroth–but there is naught they can do now, and once more Rhaella can breathe.

As a child, Rhaella remembers being afraid of Aerys, of disliking him as much as he disliked her. Yet for all that, as the years go by and whispers of madness abound, especially after the fracas at Duskendale, Rhaella finds it hard to wrap her head around. Aerys had been awful, but mad? But there is no disputing his rages–if he is not mad, then he is cruel beyond measure. Is that better?

Through it all, though it makes her feel like a terrible person, she thanks the gods that it is Mina Tyrell who is Aerys’s queen and not her. She had come so close to that very thing, but instead she is wed to a man of unerring kindness and lives in a land of unerring generosity, whereas Queen Mina…does not.

Yes, Rhaella has plenty of sympathy and sorrow for the woman, whose pain and bruises cannot be covered up by any amount of paints, but she can’t summon up regret.

How so, when she feels such joy whenever she watches her family play in the Water Gardens, when the babe kicking inside her–their sixth, despite an early agreement to only have two or three–brings her such contentment, even more so when Doran folds his hand over hers on her belly, speaking promises of love and safety? How so, when Aerys doesn’t have a caring bone in his body and her prince has nothing but?

She stands out on the balcony, unable to sleep, letting the warm, salty breeze wash over her. She knows she is protected here, that she cannot be touched, but still she worries. For the realm, if not herself. Queen Mina is pregnant again after two miscarriages; Rhaella can only imagine the pressure in wanting–no needing–this babe to live and to be a boy. To give the realm an heir at last.

Who would crumble first, Aerys or his bride? Rhaella doesn’t know.

She hears the rustle of sheets behind her, then Doran’s quiet footsteps. “I’ve much on my mind,” she says in response to his unvoiced question. She leans back against him, letting his scent calm her. He has little of Oberyn’s lithe muscle nor Elia’s delicacy, but his heartbeat is strong as any, and as familiar as her own. “Aerys is worse than Father ever was, and we are all at his mercy. I worry what will happen if he goes unchecked.”

Doran is silent for a long while. In the beginning of their marriage, his habit vexed her something terrible, that he would wait so long before answering, even in an argument. But she’s grown to appreciate it, his lack of impulsiveness, how much time he spends puzzling out his opinions. There is plenty of fire within him, but he is careful how he uses it, and in his capacity as the leader of a kingdom, it’s served him well.

“You know of my brother’s friendship with Ser Willas,” says Doran carefully. “It seems there has been…talk.”

“Talk?”

“The Tyrells do not like Aerys’s madness any more than you do. They await the birth of Queen Mina’s child with great interest.”

The implication is clear as the Sunset Sea. Rhaella’s chest feels like it is caught in a vise grip, and she squeezes Doran’s hand. “Then let us pray for a boy.”

[amicicidalgambler]

> About that other present you got...

Before you were yourself, before you were sharpened, before you became a weapon, before you were taught to swim instead of sink, to kill and not be killed, you were someone else. Though it was fifteen sweeps ago that you were given life, it was only after five that you made your name in cruelty. As a young wriggler you were bookish and shy. You were far more fascinated by learning the systems of the world than exploiting them. You had a best friend, and a habit of curling up on him when you got migraines from your budding psychic powers. That, or when you got scared by cartoon heroes killing troll-eating monsters. You had a few My Little Hoofbeast dolls, just like him, plus lots of puzzle toys and books and a spider plush that you carried everywhere.

You don’t remember any of that, though.

Your name is Vriska Serket. As was previously mentioned, it is your wriggling day. Or it was your wriggling day. Yesterday. On the seventh of the eight perigee. You like to tell everyone that it’s on the eighth instead, since the fact you hatched on the seventh feels like the first in a long line of elaborate cosmic jokes that have been made at your expense.

You also like to insist that’s not the only reason, though. Your wriggling day was one of the only events where you could take some time off for once in your goddamn life and not feel guilty, so celebrating separately gave you time to fulfill both the expected social obligations and your desperate need to hole up alone at hive and watch some movies. This one had been no different, even though movies were no longer something you only let yourself enjoy a few nights a sweep.

That and the part where you were hanging out with Equius instead of holing up alone. He’d apparently invited Nadaya to join in too, so it sounded like you’d be spending the whole night between them. Just not...too between them. You and Equius were both still shy about clade piles. Whatever.

Point was, after an indulgently long evening routine spent using your nice soaps, and braiding your hair, and picking the dress most comfortable for lying around in, and perfecting the wings of your eyeliner, you were going to spend your wriggling day with your pale court. Your pale court, of course, would be waiting for you.

He’d set up more than he had last sweep. In addition to the cake, there were some streamers neatly taped about and a little party hat on his head. That had earned him a kiss on the cheek before he’d even pulled out a neatly wrapped present for you. Once he did, though, the present was what had your complete undivided attention. For all his discipline, Equius blueblooded gifting habits seemed to pair quite nicely with your blueblooded expensive tastes. His gifts tended to be quite practical as well, sure, but they were exciting in the aristocratic kind of way.

Or so you’d been thinking to yourself, at least. What was actually inside was far more sentimental. It was a spider plushie, one practically as large as your torso, which almost popped out of the box as you released it. Without even thinking, you pulled it out to hug it against your chest and feel its fur. It was incredibly soft, and incredibly adorable. That and just...not what you’d expect from him. Like, you absolutely weren’t complaining, this thing was fucking great, but as you looked into its cute plastic eyes, it struck you that this was a...very normal and pale sort of gift.

And then something else struck you. Something that made your throat tighten and your pan fill with static.

You remembered the spider you grew up with. Not your lusus, but the toy facsimile that you held in place of her. Your lusus never touched you, rarely acknowledged you, was too big to be affectionate with. Instead, you’d clutch your toy to your chest. You’d hold it close in all these little moments that were flooding back to you; while you read, while you drew, while you poked at puzzles and played with your other toys, while you tried to talk to your actual lusus about all these things you filled your time with.

You’d loved it, in the way wrigglers do. You remembered.

And you remembered destroying it.

Because you... had, you’d destroyed it. You remembered now. You’d destroyed it. All your things, actually. Your old toys, your old books. Destroyed. You’d gotten rid of it all in a fit to force yourself to become someone else. To try and sharpen yourself. To turn yourself into a weapon. To become a swimmer when you were thrown into the water to either learn or drown, to be a killer when you were told to fight to survive. Being bookish and shy and curious wasn’t enough. In order to use your knife without hesitation, you had to cut something out of yourself first. Your old things, your old attachments, those lingering disgusting and pathetic pieces of the you that you couldn’t be anymore. They had to be cut out. Cut out and destroyed. Destroyed and forgotten.

It was at this point that you had started noticing what was happening outside of your own pan again. You could tell that Equius had tried to say something to you, but you hadn’t heard any of it. His words were still hard to piece out even when you were trying, really. He had a hand on your face- your slightly wet face, you’d shed a couple tears- with the utmost gentleness, the other hovering near your arm. You guided that arm around you, pulled him into a half hug with the spider squished between you, and babbled words that you weren’t quite sure made sense. It didn’t matter, you just had to get the point across.

You didn’t know what had just happened to you, that much you’d managed to stammer out rather bluntly. He was fine, the present was fine, wonderful actually, you loved it, but you had no idea what the fuck just happened to you. It wasn’t something you had words for. You kind of doubted you’d get the words for it any time tonight, honestly. You mostly just felt startled, and wanted to calm down. There was enough time for that before Nadaya was supposed to arrive, not so much enough time to pry back into it. The rest could come later.

But you didn’t put your gift down for the rest of the night.

[songficsbyrissi]

Let Em’ Know (Part 3)

Previously on Let Em’Know.......(Click here for part 2)

“You are a dumbass motherfucker. You are playing with fire and you are not the only one going to get burned. You know that, right? Keep it up and you on your own. I ain’t getting burned, Erik.” Erik took a drag of his blunt and blew out the smoke. “Ain’t shit getting burned but this blunt right here. My ex ain’t got nothing to do with anything, aight? If you were really with me, you would know that I got you. Stop bugging.” She put the car in drive. “Be careful. That’s all I’m saying.” Erik chuckled deeply taking another hit of the blunt. “When am I not?”

*************************

“I’m just saying....let a girl eat your ass. I wasn’t too sure about it because I was gonna feel like a little bitch but that shit is therapeutic.” Rayvon explained to Neriah who stared at him in disgust and he lightly pushed her. “Hey, don’t knock it until you try it! It’s like head but in your ass!”

Neriah had her face scrunched up and shook her head. “No, Ray Ray! I’m not eating her ass!”

Rayvon sucked his teeth hard, tucking his football under his arm and squinted his eyes at her. “I didn’t tell you to eat her ass! I’m telling you to let her eat yours! My nigga, where the fuck do you listen? Out of your ass?” He jumped off the porch railing he was seated on and crouched down to be face to face with Neriah’s butt. “LET THE GIRL EAT YOUR ASS!”

“RAYVON, GET YOUR FUCKING FACE OUT OF MY ASS!”

You sat on the porch with your phone in your hand, texting Erik and ignoring the two imbeciles fighting on your porch. You had a tiny smirk as your thumbs danced across the keyboard. You didn’t want to admit it but you felt giddy texting him. It was like high school all over again. You were falling for him all over again but you couldn’t let him know that. You were still making this nigga sweat even though it’s been a couple weeks since he came back. You had to make sure you weren’t wasting your time and your heart on this nigga.

Erik: Ugh I can’t wait to kiss you, princess. Why you torturing a nigga like this?

You: I told you this wasn’t going to be easy, baby boy

Erik: Baby boy?  I’m liking that nickname. I’d love to hear that while you’re riding my....

You: Your what, Stevens? Stop being nasty.

Erik: Damn it, princess. I was going to say riding my BMW to our date. Get your mind out of the gutter.

You giggled at his text and before you could reply, another text from him came through.

Erik: But if you really want the D, I’ll let you ride it after

You rolled your eyes snorting at the text and locked your phone. Another one came and you looked at the preview and it read:

Erik: Leave a nigga on read again like I won’t pull up on your ass

You bit your lip, feeling very mischievous. Getting on Erik’s nerves will always be entertaining. He basically said “Try me” so you know what you did? You tried him. You clicked on the conversation and exited and waited nervously for the response. Once it came, it was one word:

Erik: Bet.

You began to giggle even louder than you did before, this time, interrupting Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumbass.

“Oh Sookie sookie now!” Neriah grinned and slapped Rayvon’s chest gesturing towards you. “Pop quiz, Ray. Who got two thumbs and is in love with Erik motherfucking Stevens?”

“Motherfucking Y/N!” Rayvon sang as the two flocked over to you to keep bugging you. You stopped yourself from slapping them.

“Can y’all fuck off? Ain’t nobody in love!” You lied but they weren’t convinced.

“If you’re not in love, then I wanna fuck Ray.”

You and Rayvon both raised eyebrows at her. You two looked at each other and back at her. Rayvon licked his lips doing the Birdman hand rub.

“I mean Riah, I’m just saying, if you wanna try, it’s all you. But this dick comes with a warning label.”

“Yeah, it says “Caution: small size may disppoint you.” You joked and Neriah cackled in response, jumping up and down. Rayvon has a salty expression on his face and stood, glaring at you two laughing at his expense.

“I don’t know why I’m friends with y’all. Y’all are straight bullies, I swear.” Rayvon began to walk away and you and Neriah ran to hug his waist.

“We sorry, Ray Ray!”

“Damn Princess. Why the fuck Raytron getting more getting more love than me?” You glanced up to see Erik pouting in your pathway. You rolled your eyes playfully and walked up to your boo thang that technically wasn’t your boo thang but you would slice his big ass nose off if he talked to someone else. You wrapped your arms around his torso and he hugged you back tightly, causing you to squeal.

“Told you I was going to pull up on your ass.”

“I didn’t take you seriously.”

Erik chuckled pulling away. “You see that’s your problem. You never wanna take a nigga serious.”

“Wait hold up why you call this nigga Raytron?” Neriah scrunched up her nose gesturing towards your other friend. Rayvon began to pop his collar, chuckling.

“You see, they called me that because I’m a transformer. I be transforming these girls into my number 1 fans once this dick gets inside them.”

Erik snorted, laughing into his hand. “Nigga, you lying! We called you that because your loser ass was obsessed with Transformers. With your nerdy ass.”

“Oh Ray is definitely a nigga in disguise.” You stated covering your mouth as all of you except Rayvon laughed at your joke.

Rayvon sucked his teeth once again point you and Erik. “You see, you and Y/N are perfect each other. Both of y’all are some fucking bullies, I swear.”

“Aww Ray Ray we love you!”

“Suck a dick and die. Fuck y’all.” Rayvon walked out of your gate and all three of you laughed at him. You noticed a black Volvo parked across the street and stared a little bit. You would love to get a car like that.

“So when you gonna let me take you out on a date? It’s been a while. I was thinking we can grab some food and then see a movie. What you think about that, Princess?” Erik’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. You put on a shy smile and looking away. You’ve been fucking with Erik for too long, you could throw him a bone.

“Fine. Tonight, I’ll go out to eat with you and see a movie.” You answered and Erik grinned in response. “But let’s make a group thing. I wanna invite Ray and Riah.”

Erik’s eyes widened looking at your friends who were arguing once again outside the gate and back to you.

“Seriously? We gotta take Kenan and Kel along?” Erik groaned. “I wanted some alone time with you but if you really wanna bring your friends, then they can come.”

You grabbed his face staring into his dark brown eyes and leaned in slowly. Erik pursed his lips ready and you went around and pecked his cheek. He opened his eyes sucking his teeth hard and glaring at you. You laughed at his expression and turned to your friends.

“Guys, we hitting up Smokey Bones and the movies tonight!”

Neriah cheered and Rayvon did too, saltiness forgotten. You turned back to Erik who had an annoyed expression on his face. You knew it was because of the kiss.

“I still can’t get a real kiss?”

“That was a real kiss, Stevens.” You reached up to pinch his cheeks and he shook his face away. You snickered at his reaction and went back into your house. Erik went back to his BMW driving straight until he made it to his destination in the next city over. An abandoned warehouse he was quite familiar with. Surveying his surroundings, he stepped out of the car and knocked on the charred wooden door.

“Yo, open up! It’s me!” He shouted from the outside.

“What’s the password?” A gruff voice replied from the inside.

“Nigga, we not doing all that! Open the fucking door!”

The voice grumbled and the owner of the voice opened the door, letting Erik slip through. Erik eyed him, irritated.

“I told you to cut that dumb shit out, Von.”

Von shut the door loudly and began doing the locks. “Nigga, I’m taking extra security measures just in case we get caught up. My fault for being careful.”

Erik ignored him and continued through the dim warehouse. He found his partner Ulysses Klaue engaged in discussion with the woman from earlier. Klaue’s eyes landed on Erik and pulled into a hug, patting his back.

“There’s my breadwinning boy, Killmonger.”

Erik waved him off. “I ain’t here for all that chit chat. You got my cut, Klaue? I need that shit now.”

The woman spoke up with a sneer on her face. “Why you need it now? You got a hot date or something?”

“Soraya, mind your fucking business.”

Erik was completely annoyed with her. Ever since Soraya found out about you, every time Erik was not with her, she assumed he was with you. It was pissing him off because she was never concerned about the women he courted before so he couldn’t understand why she was acting up now.

She put her hands up in defense. “Don’t attack me! Did your ex bitch that you’re chasing piss you off?”

Erik clenched his fists and his large nostrils flared at her words. “Yo, I don’t hit women but keep disrespecting her and you’ll be an exception to that rule, my nigga.”

Soraya stood up, squaring up. “Do it!

Klaue laughed coming in between them. “Relax, you two. Damn, I’m never working with family members again.”

“I don’t know why you hired my stupid ass cousin anyway.” Erik glared in her direction and back at Klaue, outstretching his hand. “Aight give me my money.”

When Klaue handed him the stack of money, he counted it and stuffed it in his pocket, satisfied with the amount. Erik walked out when Soraya ran after him.

“Erik, don’t forget we got a hit late tonight. Unless your date interferes with that.”

“I ain’t fucking forget about our hit and get out of my business, So. Deadass. I’m the boss.”

“You might be the boss but you still dumb as hell and I still gotta look out for you like I did when we were younger. I hope you know what you’re doing. Be careful.”

Erik sucked his teeth, getting in his driver’s seat and rolled down the window when the car was started.

“When am I not?”

***********************

“This is ghetto as hell.” You commented as you, Erik, Rayvon, and Neriah walked into Popeyes on a mission. The mission was to sneak Popeyes in the movie theater. Smokey Bones was packed so Popeyes was the back up plan.

“I’m too ghetto for you, Princess?” Erik flashed his gold canines at you teasingly and you pushed him away.

“Y/N, shut up! You acting like we’ve never done this before! Remember senior skip day?” Neriah giggled at the memories. “We snuck into 3 movies that day before it got hot.”

Rayvon smiled in nostalgia. “Good times, man.”

“Yeah real good times.” Erik added as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you glared at him playfully. He sucked his teeth. “You need to stop acting like you don’t want a nigga.”

Your group got to the front of the line and conveniently, you all ordered combos. You and Erik had the same 2 piece spicy meal, surprise surprise, Rayvon ordered a 4 piece meal because he was a skinny fat fuck, and Neriah ordered the fried shrimp meal.

“Y’all, I’m not surprised Neriah ordered shrimp. She’s been adding seafood to her vegan diet.” Rayvon joked causing you and Erik to laugh a little. Neriah lifted her hand to smack but you put it down, not trying to cause a scene in Popeyes.

When it was time to pay, Erik stepped up to pay, ignoring your protests. He took out a stack of 10’s,20’s, and 50’s and your friends were shocked. So were you. You guys decided not to say anything. He probably was just one of those niggas that carried a bunch of cash to impress women but you were not impressed. Once you guys got your food and drove to the movie theatre, your friends walked in front as you and Erik stalked behind.

“Erik?” He glanced at you curiously. “Why the fuck do you carry all that cash? That’s not smart. What if you get robbed?”

He threw his head back in laughter like what you said was absurd. “Babygirl, Who gonna be dumb enough to rob me?”

You rolled your eyes. “Erik, I don’t know what bitches you trying to impress with all that cash, but I’m not one of them. Put that shit in the bank.”

Erik didn’t say anything and you two caught up with your friends. You guys bought tickets all together and once again, Erik paid. You and your friends noticed he grabbed a stack of money from a different pocket.

“Yo, Erik is rich. This nigga must be selling dick or something.” Neriah whispered to you.

“He could be dealing drugs.” Rayvon indicated making Neriah hit him. “What? You said my nigga was selling dick! I’m pretty sure drug dealers get less time!”

“The fuck y’all niggas talking about?” Erik snapped, turning to face the three of you.

“We talking about how you got all that cash. You either selling dick or dealing drugs!” Neriah looked him up and down. “Nah I can tell he hasn’t got pussy in a longgggg time. It’s drugs, y’all.”

You were beyond annoyed at this point and walked ahead with your bag full of the combos. You handed your ticket and they gave you back your stub. You continued towards the theater without them. Erik had some nerve if he was going to come back when he was partaking in those “activities.” You’d be damned if you were caught up with a nigga like that. Once you got into the dark alleyway, you felt someone grab your wrist and you were ready to fight until you heard his voice.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Erik, why do you have all that cash? What do you do for work?” You questioned and quieted down when other movie goers walked past you two. “Neriah’s right. You’re probably dealing drugs.”

He hit his forehead. “No!”

You raised an eyebrow. “Selling dick!”

“No! Y/N-“

“Selling drugs?” You asked again.

Erik pulled you to the side to get out of the other patrons’ ways. “Listen, I got a couple of jobs but it’s not drugs and it’s not selling dick. I just don’t really trust banks like that so I mostly carry cash. It does make me look rich and shit.” He chuckled a little but stopped when you didn’t joined. “Look, this is money I’ve been saving up and finally spending it. You think I’m stupid enough to do shit like that and come back to you? Come on, girl. You know me better than that.”

He had a point. Erik was always talking about how he didn’t trust banks and anything involving the government back in high school. He was always so woke to the point that it annoyed you.

You sighed deeply. “Alright. But you better start trusting banks, nigga. That’s not safe.”

“I will. Now can we go inside and enjoy this movie?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, searching for your friends. “Where’s Ren and Stimpy?”

Erik chuckled grabbing your hand. “They took the hint that you were pissed and went into another movie. I don’t mind though. I get some alone time with you.”

“Whatever. But quick question.”

“Shoot.”

“You said you’re not selling dick....you selling ass?”

Erik dragged you into the theater, shaking his head and mumbling in irritation.

“I’m just making sure!”

After the movie, Erik dropped your friends off first for obvious reasons and purposely took the long way back to your house. When you weren’t talking, the two of you sang and rapped along to songs on the way home.

“Yo have you seen my Carmex?” You patted yourself down when Erik parked.

“Nah. You can check around the car if you want.” He answered looking under his feet by the gas pedal and the brake.

You popped open the glove department and surprise, surprise, there was a roll of money in there. You scoffed grabbing the roll of bills and holding it up.

“Really? Erik, be real with me. How are you getting all this money?”

Erik snatched the roll from your hand. “I told you. I got a couple of jobs. Don’t worry about it.”

“That’s a lot of money in cash.” Your head hit the headrest of the passenger seat. “Erik, I swear to God, if you’re dealing drugs or-“

He slapped the steering wheel in anger which made you flinch. “For the last damn time, Y/N, I’m not dealing drugs! Why you thinking that low of me? And if I was, why do you care?”

“Because I lost you once, Erik! I’m not trying to lose you again!”

Erik stared at you in bewilderment saying nothing. You sighed and continued talking.

“I know I’ve been acting a little indifferent when it comes to us but I’m happy as fuck you’re back in my life. So if you’re doing any illegal, dangerous bullshit that’s going to take you away from me again, probably for good, just leave me alone now. I’m deadass! Break my heart now rather than later on when I’m in too deep. Because I’m afraid I’m close to that.”

Erik cupped your face with his strong hands forcing you to make eye contact with him.

“I’m ok, Y/N. When I said I’m back for good, I meant it. I don’t know how many times I gotta tell you that. The only way I’m gonna be out is if you tell me you want nothing to do with me anymore. If you want me, stop pushing me away. I’m yours.” Erik stated sincerely then chuckled. “And I was beginning to thinking you didn’t care about a nigga anymore but hearing you say that cancels my doubt.”

He leaned in to peck your cheek and unlocked the doors. “Now go inside, Princess. You got work in the morning.”

You began to open your door then closed it turning to him. You grabbed his face and Erik was confused at your actions.

“What you doing, Princess?”

“Making sure all your doubt is cancelled.” You leaned in and kissing him passionately. He kissed you back, caressing your face as you two made out. After a few seconds, you pulled away from him, beaming.

“Good night, Erik.” You winked exiting the car. Erik rolled down the window grinning.

“Princess! I still got some doubt tho!”

“Nigga, I said good night!” You shouted over your shoulder. “Make sure you text me when you get home, Stevens!”

“You got it, baby girl.”

He waited until you got inside and locked the door behind you before driving off. You watched through the window and noticed that black Volvo from earlier today parked in a different spot and rolled your eyes.

“The neighbors really want everyone to know they got a damn Volvo.” You scoffed walking away from the window.

Meanwhile, Erik pulled up to his apartment which was literally down the street from your house. It was within walking distance, on purpose. He changed into an all black attire and went to the location Soraya had texted him. When he made it there, he found the rest of his team decked out in black. Erik gave all of them a nod and pointed into the direction of the mansion they pulled up. The team snuck inside and got to work. The older white woman that owned the mansion was awakened and crept out of her bedroom. She turned to see Erik who donned a tribal mask on his face and was pointing a .9 millimeter in her face. The woman held his hands up in fear and began to sob.

“Please don’t shoot. Take whatever you want. Just please don’t kill me.”

Erik smirked behind his mask. “My team and I are here to take what doesn’t belong to you. Try anything and you will see why.”

Through her paralyzing fear, the woman was confused and gulped loudly. “M-may I ask why what?”

Erik cocked his gun, placing it underneath the woman’s chin and chuckled darkly.

“You’ll see why they call me Killmonger.”

Tags:  @lifelover4u @dessianna1 @brattywriters-anonymous @marvelpotterlove @purple-apricots @blackpinup22 @ljstraightchaser @slimmiyagi @cancerianprincess @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @vibranium-chakra @nerd-lovely @chaneajoyyy @ohliyaxoxo @chefjessypooh @yourfavoritefavorite @airis-paris14 @ljstraightnochaser @quietstorm-73 @msincognito67 @sociallyawkward18 @mychemicalimagines @nerd-lovely @marvelpotterlove   @destinio1 @madamslayyy @thehomierobbstark

[fernwehbookworm]

Knight of Kandor- Chapter 15

"Okay kid. I have taught you all I can. It's time for you to step up if you're still willing." Alex says at the end of dinner one night. All eyes turn to me. I set down my fork and steady my gaze on her.

"I am all in Alex. I will do whatever needs to be done." Alex nods at me and I see serious faces all around the table.

"Pack your bags then."

"Excuse me?" I ask, suddenly very confused.

"You and I, we are moving into the castle."

"The castle?" my voice goes higher without my permission.

"You and Alex are going to integrate yourselves into the castle staff to be in a position for us to start to make changes to power in the government," Maggie says.

"We have work papers and two accounts set up for you in the castle ledgers. As far as anyone is concerned, you and Alex are sisters looking for work after your farm was burned down near the borderlands and Lucy Lane brought you to court after finding you on the road. You two can create the rest of your story." Felicity hands us papers that are requesting jobs for us, signed and sealed by Lucy at the bottom.

After that, we quickly dispersed to our own corners of the base. I went to pack my few belongings and hesitate of my few books when someone knocks at my open door. Its Alex leaning against the frame.

"Don't bring them. Books are way too expensive for a servant farm girl. Also, we should probably be illiterate. Nobles are a lot less careful when they think servants can't read."

"Good point." I pick up the books and set them back on the desk.

"I just came to make sure you are okay, leaving and all."

"Me? I haven't lived anywhere permanently since I was thirteen. Are you okay leaving Maggie?" I ask.

"It will be hard. But Maggie and I both know it is part of the job. It's not the first time we have been away from each other for long periods of time." I nod and start to fold some of my clothes to go in the small pack,

"Ah actually, you won't need those either. Women must wear dresses in Cadmium, especially in Daxam, and doubly so in court."

"Dr...dresses?"

"Yes. Dresses."

"Alex, I haven't worn a dress since I was a child." Alex laughs at the look I know is on my face.

"Relax Kara. I'll be there to help. You said you took some etiquette courses in Krypton?"

"Yeah! As a man!" I exclaim.

"But you have a general idea of manners that are expected. Plus we are supposed to be farm girls so any lapses shouldn't be too suspect."

"But dresses Alex!" I complain, Alex just laughs again.

I nervously run my hands down the rough fabric of my skirt as we wait for the small man in front of us to examine the documents. He peers at them through the small spectacles on the end of his nose. Thin white hair blows in the small breeze that passes for Cadmium's winter.

"Lady Lucy has asked for jobs for the two of you?" He asks as if it wasn't on the paper in front of him.

"Yes, sir. We need jobs to send money back home to help pay for the farm." Alex repeats our vague story.

Our parents sent us to the city for work so that we could send money back to the farm to pay for repairs and so our parents could buy new land to plant on. The old land was burnt to the ground during a raid on the small town. Of course, the money we were 'sending away' would really just go into one of the DEO's many accounts around set up under aliases. Our time here depended on when the farm would be ready again but would probably take a year. It was vague enough that we could leave earlier or later without much suspicion.

The whole point of this was that we would be here and already apart of the staff so as not to draw attention to ourselves if we needed to act. Alex and I had been studying various poisons and other plants and herbs with a woman named Pamela Isley who ran an apothecary. Some we're healing. Some would just make someone very sick. And some we're deadly. Pamela showed us how to use various powders and liquids made out of the plants. It took three weeks of intensive study before she had found us ready. After that was when Alex told me we were moving to the castle.

"I see. Well, we always need more workers. We have a room for you two to share. You will report to Ms. Harriet Cooper, our head of household staff. She will find the best-fit jobs for you." The man says, rousing me from my thoughts.

"Thank you, sir," I say.

"Richard here is her nephew. He will lead you to her offices." The man gestures to a boy of maybe twelve. He is slightly lanky and awkward in his movements, obviously still adjusting to a growing body.

"Dick." He says.

"Excuse me?" Alex asks, choking back a laugh.

"Everyone calls me Dick, short for Richard. It was what my dad was called too. Richard 'Dick' Grayson." A large grin spreads across the boys face as he proudly explains his name.

"Okay. Lead the way, Dick." Alex says.

He takes us into the castle and into a cold stone hallway. We had gone in a side servants entrance when we arrived so I did not get a good look at the large building I would be living in. From what I did see it was bigger than Kandor. That hurt my head to think about. The structures still amazed me. We made our way through dimly lit plain corridors that were obviously just used for servants to pass through the castle unseen.

"So Dick? You don't have to answer but you said it was your dad's name. Did something happened to your parents?" Alex asks to break the silence.

"Yeah. They were killed by someone not satisfied with our show. We were traveling mummers. A Baron or something was drunk and said they broke some laws or something. I don't really know. I was still pretty little. Somehow I ended up here with my aunt. She says one day I'll be in charge just like her. But for now, I can run and play as soon as my chores are done. There are so many passageways here and so many things to do..." the boy begins to ramble on about what he does in the castle and I am able to tune him out, trying to memorize the passageways.

Soon we open a door into a hallway back in the main body of the castle. A red carpet runs the hallway, mirrored by portraits and artwork on the walls. Dick knocks on another plain door and a voice calls for us to enter. Inside is a squat woman, enjoying a morning tea while looking out the window. Her hair was a fiery red where it wasn't speckled with gray.

"Oh hello, dears. I am Ms. Harriet, but everyone calls me Aunt Harriet. You must be the new hires." aunt Harriet extends a hand and Alex steps forward to shake it.

"I am Alexandria Danvers and this is my sister Kara." Aunt Harriet moves to shake mine as well.

"Well, why don't we sit and figure out where you fit best into my household. Lady Lucy seems very fond of you."

We sit and begin to chat with the older woman. We retell our tale on how we ended up here and she makes sympathetic noises. I actually grow quite fond of her rather quickly. She seems to genuinely care about the people who work for her. In the end, she assigns Alex to be one of Lady Lucy's handmaids while she is at court and me as a scullery maid in the kitchen. Mostly I would just be washing dishes apparently but it would involve errands around the castle for Mr. Carr.

When we left Dick was still outside, tasked with showing us to our rooms and around the Castle for the rest of the day. He continued to ramble on and point out different doors and show us the passages that made up castle walls. The room me and Alex would be sharing was rather small. Only room for the two narrow beds and trunks at the foot of each. Dick left us alone, telling us he would be out in the courtyard for the rest of the day with the rest of the children if we needed him. Alex and I set about unpacking our meager belongings in relative quiet.

"How are you doing?" I laugh at Alex's question.

"You really have that concerned older sister thing down." She lets out a soft chuckle.

"Yeah, I always wanted a sister. My father died before my parents could give me one. What would my mom say if I came home and told her she had another daughter" that really gets Alex laughing.

"Well, she wouldn't be happy that I would eat her out of house and home."

"She might actually love it. Having another mouth to feed. She always wanted more kids but she couldn't make herself get married again after dad."

I sit on the bed and look at my hands.

"It has been great having a family again. Thank you, Alex. For saving me." Alex sits across from me at my suddenly serious voice.

"You're welcome. But as soon as I saw you, I knew you were family. So did everyone else." She grabs my hands and I look up at her soft smile.

"Now sister, how about we go try and make some new friends." I smile and nod as Alex pulls me back to my feet.

My cheeks hurt from laughing at the joke Winn just finished telling. It amazed me at how Kara's friends just found me and integrated themselves into my life. Jess sat on the small couch next to me, Winn across from us in a chair, James sat in the chair next to him. John was even here, rifling through the books of the sitting room. Ever since Kara's trial, Winn had been insistent on making sure I was fine. Then Jess found out and insisted on inviting him for tea. James soon followed and John was almost always with me anyways. For the first time, I had real friends. Not those pretend Ladies-in-waiting that I knew reported back to my mother everything I said and did.

"I have to get going. Shift change is soon and I like to be there for that. It's the most dangerous time of day. " says James.

"I'll walk with you," says Winn, jumping up from his chair, a little too quickly.

James just smiles and nods as they leave. Jess bursts into laughter as soon as the door is shut behind her. I look at her a little startled. John even chuckles.

"That boy has it bad," John says in his deep voice. It had dropped remarkably quickly from the first time Lena had met him.

"Excuse me. Am I missing something?" I ask. Jess laughs even harder.

"My lady, you are hopeless. Winn likes James." I feel my mouth fall open at Jess' statement.

"Really?"

"No wonder you never figured out Kara was a woman, even after you kissed her. You, my lady, are blinded by social constructs of what love is."

I blush at her truthful statement. The whole same-gender relationships thing was not very common in the upper classes or spoken of much. But then there was Kara. I fell in love with her smile, and her drive to learn, and her protectiveness. It was amazing how she began to stutter whenever Lena stood too close but was so cool and calm in the practice yard whenever Lena had watched her from the window above it. Lena had begun to realize how obviously feminine Kara was but how well she hid it with peoples preconceived assumptions.

"You are doing it again."

"Hmm..." I respond as Jess pulls me out of my thoughts.

"You are thinking about her again even though no one even mentioned anything about her," Jess says.

"I don't know what you mean." I blush, knowing full well that Jess knows me better than anyone. John was sitting and reading a book, pretending not to listen.

"Lena, you are a hopeless, lady loving mess."

I open my mouth to retort when the door opens. The smile falls from my face as my mother enters. John and Jessica leap to their feet, only to bow deeply. I rise much more slowly and bow my head to the Queen.She stops just inside the doorway, her guards already positioned outside with two of my own. Lillian glares at John and Jessica.

"Leave us." She commands and they quickly move to exit the room, the door shuts behind them and the silence hangs heavy in the room.

"What is this about mother?" I finally ask, sitting back down on the couch, having enough of her piercing glare already.

We had hardly spoken since Lex had left, even that wasn't much since Kara's banishment. Well, we hadn't really spoken for most my life now that I think about it. She had, however, made known her disapproval of my new friends. Actually went out of her way to stop me in the garden, the one place she never goes, to lecture me on proper relationships for a future Queen to have.

"What? No tea? No pleasantries? Do you really despise my company so much that you wish to be rid of me so quickly?"

"Mother we have no more tea and you only speak to me when you need something." Lillian rolls her eyes and sits across from Lena.

"What I need is for you to fulfill your duty to the crown." Lena sighs.

"What does that even mean Mother? I am in charge of almost everything at this point. For my next birthday, the council is going to move for you to step down so that the blood-heir will finally sit on the throne. My coronation ceremony will be for my actual birthday. How could I not be fulfilling my duty to the crown?" Lillian's face grows serious.

"There is restlessness on the borders. We need you to go and bring hope to the villagers."

"You want to send the heir of the crown to the war front?" I ask, shocked at what I was hearing.

"Not alone. Lex is sending a whole battalion to meet you, also you won't be going all the way to the front, just some of the outlying villages. You will be taking supplies like food and water among other things. We cannot lose the support of the people." I fall silent as I way her words.

"This is not a request Lena. This is an order from your queen." I sigh and stand.

"When do I leave, Your Highness?"

"Tomorrow at dawn. The supplies are already being gathered. Your personal guard will accompany you as well as a small unit of the palace guard until you meet with the troops closer to your first destination."

"May Lady Jessica accompany me?" I ask, not willing to be without her for the first time in my life for one of my first times outside Kandor.

"I suppose. We don't need your maidenhood questioned being among that many men alone." I barely keep from rolling my eyes.

"Thank you, Your Highness. May I take my leave to prepare for the journey?" The queen nods and I calmly leave.

Once in the hallway, I silence Jess' questions with a glare and gracefully storm off to my room, John and Jessica in tow. I command John to wait outside and Jess follows me in. Angrily, I tell her of the conversation with my mother.

"She wants you, the heir and center of several assassination attempts, to leave the castle and go closer to the war front?" Jess sums up nicely.

"Yes!" I exclaim.

"That makes no sense."

"I know, but 'the queen commands it'" I mock.

"Okay. Let's get packed then." I try and smile at my best friend but utterly fail. Jessica begins moving about the room with a purpose.

The carriage bounces over the road, making the words on the page in front of me bounce with it. The third week of our journey was just as boring as the last two. Traveling with so many men and supplies slowed their pace much more than I would like. Jessica was stretched out on the padded seat with her head in my lap as I read aloud to her. Men's voices were a dull thrum all around us as they spoke and laughed with each other. The closest to the carriage was always my personal guard, John sits vigilant on top of the carriage with the driver. The trip had been very uneventful. Most of the day was spent in the carriage, stopping once only to eat at mid-day. By the time the carriage stopped for the night, my tent was already erected with a steaming dinner waiting for the only two women in the company. I was nearly always inside, not that it was much different than life at the castle since the assassination attempts.

Jess and I both dozed off before being roused by John after the sun had set. Once we had eaten, I began to pace, feeling restless after three days of confined spaces. Jess lounged on the large cot with a book but watched me instead.

"Lena, darling, please relax." I roll my eyes at my best friend.

"I can't. This whole thing is ridiculous. Plus I have too much energy after being trapped for three weeks." Jess sits up.

"I have an idea of how we can burn some energy," Jessica says in a sultry voice. I roll my eyes again.

"No Jess, you have Donovan. It wouldn't be right. Besides, I have... something... with Kara."

"Ugh, you are no fun." Jess flops backward, I continue my pacing.

"Jess, I love you. But I think everything is different now."

"I know you're right. But this is going to be a long boring trip."

"Hopefully," I say.

"I am reading one more chapter, then I am sleeping. At that point, The lamps are going off. You can continue to pace in the dark." Jessica reopens her discarded book. I grunt an acknowledgment as I try to calm my worried thoughts.

The first town we stop in is overwhelmed with refugees seeking new homes away from the ever-changing border. Wood is unloaded from the carts for more houses to be built. Grain is taken to the local mill to be given to those in need of it. I allow the men to take the crown coin to spend as they see fit in the two local taverns. I can see hope in the faces that this morning were drawn and weary. The soldiers buy meals and drinks for those they see. The whole atmosphere becomes very much like a festival as the sun sets. Midway through the day, the advance scouts from Lex's army arrived, meaning the rest of the battalion was only a few days behind. They would be meeting us in the next town.

Despite my protests to mother's plan, I was quite enjoying myself. Children ran through the torch-lit streets of the small village as Jessica and I laughed and ate with John and Donovan at a table outside one of the taverns. It was so odd being outside the castle, even more so being outside Kandor.

The rest of the townsfolk still gave us a wide berth, despite my reassurances to treat me like one of their own. Most of these people had never been close to even a duke, much less the future Queen. Though their joy was evident, their apprehension around royalty was clear. I didn't let it bother me. Instead, I indulged in my newly found friendships and enjoyed the simple meal placed before us by a more than grateful owner.

"And then she slapped the poor rookie on the ass with the flat of her blade. His face hit the ground so hard he broke his nose. Never again did some newbie call the Great Kal El short." Donavon finishes in a fit of laughter.

I have no idea how we got onto stories of Kara but the drinks were flowing freely and I didn't question it. I was glad that even after the trial, Kara's friends still stood by her. It showed so much to her underlying character.

"Walk me back to my room?" Jess asks Donovan.

Jess and I were sharing one of the nicest rooms in town, which was a nice change from the tents. Donovan nods with an ecstatic grin spreading across his flushed cheeks. Jess stands and takes his hand, leading him back inside and up the stairs.

"Yeah, I should probably turn in too," John says.

"No way. I need at least ten minutes before I go up there and you are not leaving me alone here." I say.

John laughs and settles back into the chair he began to rise out of. We start talking about the next day's plans until I deem it safe for him to escort back to the room. Thankfully the hallway outside the door is vacant and there aren't any noises coming from inside.

"I'll stay until your night guard gets here. Goodnight, my lady." I roll my eyes at John, he knows I hate when he uses titles like that and now he just does it in private to annoy me.

"Goodnight, sir." I emphasize as I kiss his cheek and enter the room. Jess sits reading on the bed reading as she waits for me.

"Took you long enough." She mumbles before flipping the page.

"I needed to be safe. Last time I followed right behind you and Donovan I had to burn the image out of my mind with scalding water." Jess chuckles and blushes before giving up and shutting her book. She stands and helps me remove my dress. Even the simple travel dresses I brought were still annoyingly intricate. I could do them myself but a helping hand was always welcome. Once dressed again and settled in the bed, Jess wrapped her arms around me and we both fell promptly to sleep.

I woke, from the warmth that came from body pressed against my back. I roll over to try and look out the window and see if its dawn yet. I relax when I see night still pressing against the thick window pane. Something feels off though. I can't place it. I move to shake Jess awake. A shock of blonde hair stills my hand. Gently I brush it away from the hair covering her face. I stare and feel my heart stop.

"Kara." I breathe out. This can't be real.

"Shhh... Lena. Just five more minutes." She grumbles out.

"Kara," I say again. Kara opens her eyes and they are even bluer than I remember.

"What is it Lena?" the crinkle appears on Kara's forehead had she looks at me puzzled.

I can't stop myself. Real or not, there is no way I am passing this up. My hand cups her cheek and her breath hitches. My thumb brushes Kara's bottom lip and the heat of the touch sears my skin. Suddenly it feels like all the air had been sucked out of the room. Kara surges up and her lips meet mine. It's better than I remember. Kara's tongue immediately seeks entry into my mouth and I gladly let it. Kara pushes me into the mattress and trails kisses to my jaw. She pauses to suck softly at the skin of my neck. A moan escapes my lips.

"Kara..."

"Lena." Kara pulls away with a very serious voice, that isn't hers.

"Lena, wake up." Jess is shaking me awake.

"Damn it, Jess."

"Well, you can't be having dreams like that while sharing the bed with me. You were moaning in your sleep."

"It was a good dream." I blush at the thought, Jess laughs.

"I could tell. Now go back to sleep, I think we still have a few hours before dawn."

I roll over and try to resume the wonderful dream that Jess interrupted.

The next morning we leave just as the sun is tinting the night sky. Jess and I are in the carriage again, bouncing along as the road gets rougher this far from the palace. We settle into the stillness of days of travel. Jess has started on a new book and I study letters sent to me from the castle and the war front. Different troop movements and supply trains. One is supposed to meet us in three towns, a place called Smallville. I chuckle at the on-the-nose name. Time passes slowly, but it does. Just before sunset, we stop again for the night, surrounded by armed men as Jess and I sleep in a tent.

The night erupts in screams and the flickering orange of fires burning out of control lights the outside of the tent. Jess and I scramble to pull robes over our sleeping shifts and shoes onto our feet. John Bursts into the tent and grabs my arm, pulling me roughly behind him, leaving Jess to follow as closely as she can.

"What is happening!" I yell over the clash of metal on metal. Horses screamed into the night as men's yells rumbled through my bones.

"Attack. Cadmium soldiers way over the border. I am getting you as far away as possible." John yells back over his shoulder.

In mid-stride, John cuts down a screaming man in boiled leathers as he runs towards us. John is headed towards two of the only horses still tethered to posts, straining to escape the licking flames of the fire on nearby tents. Jessica and I quickly work at the knots while John guards our backs. The horse I was working on rears up, the rope snaps and goes limp in my hands. I watch as the horse's tail disappears into the black woods. A shout stirs me from my stunned thoughts. John has crumpled to the ground and six men surround us. Two have Jess by both arms.

"Now, now princess. You better come with us." The one standing over John sneers. I round my shoulders back and stand straight.

"That is Queen-in-waiting to you." Luthor pride rearing its head, despite the circumstances. A glint of steel appears at Jessica's throat.

"Doesn't matter to us. Now come quietly or your little friend here won't ever speak again."

I drop the broken rope still clutched in my hands and step towards the man. I couldn't risk Jessica's life. Her eyes go wide at seeing me comply but a hand over her mouth muffles any protests. John Moans on the ground. One of the men kicks him hard. I lunge for the man and a sharp pain cracks across the back of my head and I hear a muffled cry from Jessica before blackness covers my eyes.

They are drugging me. A small voice in my mind thinks as I struggle back to conscience again. Time had lost all meaning. I fought to get to the surface of my mind. I lost track of how many times I had tried. The only thing that marked the passage of time were the periods of rocking and bumping changing to a hard still surface. I thought I heard a familiar voice trying to call to me, coaxing a coolness into my mouth, but the darkness was too heavy.

Bright light pierces through my eyelids, escalating the throbbing in my temples and making me just as aware of the almost painful dryness in my throat. My mind is sluggish to wake. The first thing I notice after the bright light is the softness on my back then the warmth covering me. The air is warm also. Much warmer than it should be, even for the end of winter.

I struggle to open my eyes, opening one before squeezing it back shut. A moan escapes my parched throat as I try again to open my eyes. I blink past the light and sit up, which only increases the pain in my head again.

"Rao, my head...." I mumble.

"Yes, it will take awhile for the last of the drugs to wear off, especially with how long they were used on you."

I jolt at the cold voice sitting just across from me at a small table. I meet the equally cold dark eyes set into a stern face. A pale woman with curly dark hair sits regally in the simple wooden chair, placing her teacup back on the saucer. I know this woman. My mind races to place where I could have seen her before.

"Queen Rhea." I try for the most neutral voice I can manage.

"Princess Lena, or is it Queen-in-waiting? Your hierarchy has always escaped me. Passing a throne from father to son was always less complicated, as long as a strong Queen stands behind them both."

"I will never stand behind a man," I growl out.

"Oh, but my dear, you will. That is why you are here. My son requires a queen, and your mother wants her first born on the throne. Her only born on the throne."

My head snaps up at that. No one was to know. All the servants and soldiers who were there when I was brought in were killed. This woman has somehow discovered Queen Lillian's most closely guarded secret. The echo of flames burning down the little hut flash through my mind. The day my happy, simple life ended. The day my mother was burned alive and Lillian Luthor began grooming me for my father's crown. I was a way to appease the people who had been calling for a true heir. The unrest was growing every day until the day Lillian appeared with me by her side. Suddenly years of anger dissipated in relief, securing the family on the throne and empowering the people to resume the fighting against an outside enemy.

"Yes. Your mother and I have been communicating quite a lot recently. You see she planned this whole thing. We both are wearisome of the constant fighting. We have found a way to make peace."

"I will not marry your son. I am to be Queen in my own right. I will not bend a knee to a man. Krypton is mine."

Queen Rhea laughs. It is a cold laugh that seems to drain heat from the stifling room. As if on some unspoken queue, the doors open. Two guards carry in a limp form. Dirty and in a torn dress, shackled by both hands and feet. Jessica falls to the ground with a sharp cry as the men drop her.

"Jess!" I stumble to her side, my legs weak from days of disuse.

"Yes, your Lady has been very vocal about everything. We had to keep her restrained after she almost killed one of my men. Thank you for bringing along sufficient motivation. As long as you behave, Lady Jessica will live in relative comfort in my dungeon. Food, water, bedding."I believe I know the answer to my next question but I ask it anyway.

"And if I don't? What if I just let you kill her and refuse to marry?"

"Oh, I won't just kill her. Any misbehavior will bring punishment to her. You will behave like the future queen you are. This must be real for the peace to last. A marriage between Krypton's Future Queen and Cadmium's King will finally unite the country again. My son will make history as the King who ends the war."

I stare at the regal queen with as much hate as I can muster. I was to choose between a life of torture for my best friend or my country. I scramble to find a way out. To save Jessica and I. Jessica moans something into the floor. I try to pull her upright.

"Jess..." I push her matted hair out of her eyes.

"Just find us some time. You will save us all."

"Yes, yes. Believe in yourself, blah, blah, blah. You can do it, blah, blah, blah. Hope is a dangerous thing ladies. It is what crushes you the most. Remove her." The queen stands. The men drag the limp Jessica from the room.

"You will be given a new handmaid. Armed guards will escort you everywhere."

"Just like home." I interrupt, my voice dripping with sarcasm. The Queen shoots me a look.

"No one will know you are the future queen of Krypton until the wedding ceremony, which will be after the appropriate three month courtship period. For now, you are Lady Ellena Colby, the daughter of the Duke of a small outlying land. You are here for the Orange Festival. Now, I must be going. Your Handmaid will arrive with dinner in a few short hours. Tomorrow, I will summon you for a proper welcome to Daxam."

The Queen quickly exits the room and leaves me on the floor, alone. My head was trying to understand what was happening and my eyes betrayed me with the tears that needed shedding.