#nobody ever let my poor little lady onto another stage again

[waters-and-the-wilde]

WELL HUH looks like I basically got that 'Nureyev are you trying to climb out that window???' scenario I spent like the duration of S4 picturing

[mihidecet]

Sbi&CO d&d AU: Don’t Keep me Waiting (2/?)

I’m back! Chapter two is finally here and, as promised, it’s a bit of a beefy one!! I do hope you’ll like it!

A special shoutout to Cassie and my sister, for basically creating the newly added character, and that anon who totally didn’t guess who was coming a week before I posted the chapter xD

The noise inside the tavern hits them like a tidal wave the instant they open the heavy looking oak doors: a cacophony of people talking, friends cheering, music playing and orders being shouted from one side of the room to the other. 

On one hand, it makes Wilbur flinch and recoil, his ears ringing with the sudden switch from being in the quietness of a mostly desert street to this; the good thing is nobody really pays any particular attention to their group entering. They do of course gather some looks and stares - they're a big group after all, most people here are either in small, four-people groups or even smaller. 

But Techno's trademark pink hair is safely hidden under a hood, in order to allow him to walk around without getting constant stares - respectful, fearful or otherwise. They're here to have fun, not pick fights; at least that is what they had decided on before signing up for the tournament. Except for Tommy: to quote the little demon, they were there to win.

Nevertheless. 

Wilbur is there, at that moment, in that tavern, to play and to share his music with a willing audience. So, while most of the others hurry to grab a big enough table and some extra chairs, Wilbur makes his way towards the innkeeper's desk, tail swinging back and forth, mind already running with ideas on what to play for this specific audience - adventurers are a picky sort, they either like your song or they boo you out of the tavern, and he wants to give a good impression especially with the tournament coming up-

The innkeeper sees him and Phil approaching, his eyes darting to his brand new splendidly hand carved guitar - he will never ever ever be able to repay Tubbo - before he lets out a tired sigh. Which comes crashing down onto Wil's mood like an avalanche, covering instantly all his bright ideas and expectations. 

It's Phil's hand on the small of his back that brings him back into focus, prompting him to regain the sway in his step - no time to mope, they're here for at least another month.

"I don't suppose you have a spot open for tonight?" He asks, putting on his best vendor voice, and he can see the tiredness in the eyes of the person in front of him. 

"I do not. You can have half an hour in two days. Name?" The person asks, voice flat with the face of somebody who's had to repeat this process so many times just tonight. So Wilbur swallows down his protest - half an hour in two days is a horrible deal - and nods amicably. 

"Wilbur, Wilbur Soot." The innkeeper looks to be thinking intensely for a moment - a spark of hope shines in his chest as he hopes for a moment that his name will be recognised, since he's spent the past years building up his fame by working tirelessly -, then they shake their head and write down something that vaguely resembles his name next to some numbers. Wilbur smothers the irrational, embarrassing disappointment that threatens to rise in his throat.

"You have my thanks, good sir!" He adds enthusiastically, voice pitched a bit too higher than normal, because a part of him feels for the poor soul who has to deal with people of all sorts, and swivels on his feet.

Phil's hand on his shoulder brings him out of his own mind as he's definitely not storming away from the poor innkeeper's table. He doesn't even need to say anything: Wil deflates instantly, tense shoulders sagging instantly and a long sigh leaving him as he leans into the elf. 

"I really wanted to play." Wilbur grumbles as Phil's hand moves from one shoulder to the other, effectively bringing him into a half-hug and ruffling his hair with a chuckle. 

"I know, and you're going to." The elf replies, tone calm and reassuring, and Wil can't help but ache a little, feeling like a kid all over again and not liking it even a little bit. Once, he would have stayed quiet and stewed into his own brooding mood, but he knows now that he can rely on the others for situations like these. So he ignores how awkward he feels at protesting for something as silly as this, and lets himself pout. 

"Half an hour is so little, though. And since we're not taking any jobs for a while it could help with paying for the tavern." Phil quietly hums in response and experience tells him that he's pondering over a good answer. Wil's eyes scan the tavern - bigger than he first realised - looking for Tubbo's bee, as he figures it's going to be the easiest thing to recognise in the literal sea of adventures of all kinds.

"You know we don't need it. And I'm sure once they hear how good you are, they'll be asking you to play every night." Phil comments, starting to guide him towards what he thinks is the right direction, but Wil is a bit more preoccupied with preening, slightly flustered, due to the compliment. One would expect him to be used to them, but the thing with his friends is that praises from them always feel a little more true, a little more honest, and they always hit him in the best way possible. 

When they join the rest of the team - clustered around a single medium sized table - Wil's mood has significantly improved. 

There's food already waiting for him and as soon as he sits down a fox jumps in his lap and curls up, snout raised towards him to slowly blink at him before he buries his head in his tail. 

Wilbur starts digging into his meal with gusto, lightly scratching behind Fundy's ear as the shifter decides to take a nap.

The tavern is, overall, a nice place. It's cool to see so many adventurers gathered together, and hearthwarming to be able to see many new friendships blossoming. 

After the team announcements that same morning, there are some people that have found themselves needing to look for strangers basing themselves only on names - or worse, nicknames. 

Wilbur figures that the people that are in the best position to find their teammates are those who have been paired with bards, as there have been half a dozen different people performing ever since they sat down to eat. 

Luckily for him, his own team has no such problems. Tubbo, Niki and Fundy, on the other hand, are still waiting to learn who their fourth is going to be. Since the training grounds will soon be open for team practices, starting from the next morning in fact, they plan on looking for them there. 

Tymora, or Lady Luck, has apparently other plans for them.

It's nearing midnight when a short man with only one eye and a thick Draconic accent walks up the stage for what seems like the hundredth time that night. In his hand, the same piece of paper that has been progressively getting more and more ragged as the evening went on. He unfolds it as he walks up, thanking the tired looking bard that is leaving the stage, and it rips in half - his only reaction is a sigh and a shrug.

He squints, putting together the parchment and pursing his lips as the two ripped halves slowly mold back together, then calls out, somehow magically raising his voice over the sound of the tavern's clients talking and clapping for the leaving bard.

"Next up: Quackity! Come up the stage!"

Fundy's fox claws suddenly dig into Wilbur's legs, making him wince in pain and choke on his sip of mead. A split second later, he's got a lap full of disgruntled mage. 

Tubbo, on the other side of the table, is standing on his chair in order to see the stage over a firbolg's shoulders - holding himself up by using Tommy's head, who is extremely unwilling. 

"A bard?!" Fundy exclaims, prompting Wilbur to move his eyes from the stage towards him with a frown.

"What's wrong with bards?!" He asks, helping him get off of him and into his abandoned chair. Before Fundy can find a way to put his rebuttal into coherent words, Wilbur's eyes snap back toward the stage as people are starting to give a quiet, tentative clap for the newcomer.

The kid looks human, probably about Niki's age, and he sits down a bit awkwardly on the stool he brought with himself before plucking a couple of strings on his guitar. They're sitting quite far from the stage, but Wilbur's trained eye still manages to catch the fact that that is an old and well used one - his heart squeezes just a bit at the thought of his former source pride and joy, the guitar he travelled with ever since he left home.

Wilbur knows, viscerally, of the fear that always precedes a performance, especially in front of a new crowd. Especially in front of adventures, whose tastes are ever changing and easy to sway from the crowd's perspective: adventurers either like you, or they don't, and if they don't you're not gonna have a good time.

And yet. 

After checking his guitar, the kid looks up with a bright smile and a confident expression and starts playing - no buildup, no further introduction, no boisterous announcements of his titles or fame. 

And by the gods does he play. 

He's good, but he's not just technically good: he's an entertainer, plays with his guitar as much as he plays with words and with the crowd - clearly making up verses for his songs to fit what happens around him, bantering with the adventurers that step up to his plays of words. Sometimes he bursts out laughing mid verse and despite that his fingers never stop flying over the cords, his laughter becoming part of the song itself. 

Halfway through, he catches Techno's eyes: the shifter raises an eyebrow and Wil simply nods, so Techno nods back

The tiefling is glad to know that they both think he's good, they had been worried about leaving the three newest additions to their team alone with a random stranger. 

And if the enthusiastic way the rest of the team is clapping for him, they're going to get along more than well.

Half an hour later a flushed and visibility sweaty Quackity makes his way down the stage, followed by a thunderous applause and some occasional claps on the back; one passing adventurer even thrusts a pint of ale into his hands, prompting what looks to be a flustered reaction from the bard as he quickly makes his way out of the tavern. 

Either that or he needed some air, which was completely understandable, especially after such an active performance. 

Wilbur is about to comment on the stellar introduction they just received when the sudden noise of hands slamming onto the table - their table - makes him jump in his skin.

"We have to go and say hi!" Declares Tubbo, still standing on the chair - now with Niki helping him not fall to the ground. 

Tommy nods enthusiastically next to him and even Fundy seems to be about to agree. To be quite honest, Wilbur wants to join in too and is therefore about to stand up when Phil raises his hands to get them to slow down. 

"You're gonna scare him if you all corner him outside. How about his three teammates go, on their best behaviour?" The elf concludes, shooting Fundy a pointed look. 

The shifter gapes, looking extremely insulted, then he starts to protest and finally he sighs with a pout. Ah, the wonders of people arguing with Phil. 

"Alright, no pranks and no scamming. Pinky promise." Fundy huffs out, crossing his arms over his chest and slouching down into his chair. Wilbur does his best to chuckle under his breath, because he's not any better, he's just not the target of the reprimand for this time. 

Then, Phil's stare turns to his left. 

"You too, Tubbo. No scams." He states, prompting Tubbo to almost fall over as he agitatedly protests, spluttering out indignantly.

Exiting into the coldness of the night is almost a shock, especially when compared to the almost too warm air inside the tavern.

The sounds coming from inside are almost completely silenced, and when they close the doors behind them the stillness of the night is all they can hear. Fundy shudders for a moment, his body struggling to adapt to the lack of heat, when his instinctive reaction would normally be to morph back into his fox form. He snaps his fingers together, conjuring a small flame in his hands to keep himself warm, and sees Tubbo moving closer to him before he remembers that ah, right, the kid can't see in the dark. 

Still, it's not hard to find their objective - their future friend, as he's already been dubbed by Tubbo. Quackity is leaning on the outside wall, right next to an illuminated window, pint abandoned on his side as he looks at the night sky, one foot tapping on the ground as if following a silent melody. 

In the beginning, the plan had involved Niki leading the way, so that she could introduce the three of them and they could all make arrangements to meet the next morning at the training fields, so that they could all be friends and hang out and win the tournament. 

Said plan is instantly scrapped the instant Tubbo lets out a small gasp, eyes going wide as he hurries to duck around Niki, swiftly avoiding Fundy’s hand reaching out to grab at his shirt. The young human scrambles to reach the sitting bard, who naturally flinches and stares in confusion at the kid running towards him. 

As Tubbo finally gets close, he stops and points at Quackity’s head.

"Hi! You have a moth on your head." 

Fundy’s groan is so loud, it reaches the two of them even though he is currently a couple of steps behind and hiding his face in his hands. Niki’s high pitched giggles follow suit, and are soon joined by a shocked burst of laughter - loud, bright, just like his music - from the human sitting in front of Tubbo. 

"I- Hi! I do?" Quackity asks, voice tilting upwards as he looks up, as if he could be able to see his own head by rolling his eyes into his skull. 

Tubbo giggles seeing him go cross-eyed, and reaches up to gently take the moth in his hand. The little bug’s wings flutter a little as he is moved, apparently not glad to be disturbed from his perch, but he seems to begrudgingly accept his new spot since Tubbo holds him close to the light coming from the tavern’s window. His wings are very pretty, a light grey with black streaks into them that look like the splatters of ink that cover the pages of Tubbo’s various notebooks - his ever growing collection of plans and schematics for new and old projects. According to Tubbo's admittedly limited experience with moths, this one is smaller than one would expect. Very tiny and friendly - "just like you!" Wilbur would probably say if he were there. 

"Aw, look at him! Isn't he cute?" Tubbo coos at his new friend, prompting a slightly awkward chuckle from Quackity as the man moves just slightly away from the insect.

"I'm not a fan of bugs, but, uh- he does look fancy." Q eyes nervously the other two, but Tubbo ignores it, too taken with his new little pal to take care of trivial things like introductions. Niki just smiles warmly and opens her mouth to do so - possibly to also reassure the poor human - , but Tubbo is already speaking again.

"My friend can speak to bugs! He said moths always think of food and light." Quackity is once again seemingly stunned, stuck between the awkwardness of not knowing who the people surrounding him are and the confusion regarding the topic of discussion. He blinks, shooting a look towards the bug in Tubbo's hand before quickly looking away with a light grimace, choosing to focus on Tubbo himself.

"Well, little buddy better not get hurt trying to reach a flame!" Q jokes, letting out a small chuckle. Tubbo's face turns from awed to serious in a split second, his other hand moving to cup around the moth.

"That won't happen, I'll protect him!" He answers determinately, nodding solemnly towards Quackity, who can only gape for a moment before bursting out laughing again, shaking his head a little. 

"So, uh … Is there a reason why you've cornered me, or are you just fans?" He asks after a moment, once his chuckles have died down, turning a raised eyebrow towards Fundy and Niki, still standing a bit awkwardly behind Tubbo. 

"Oh, we are your teammates! We recognised your name and figured we should say hi." Niki explains with a smile, moving to crouch next to Tubbo so that the young human can move the moth closer to her.

"You- oh! Oh! -" Quackity exclaims, eyes widening and suddenly looking at them with less confusion "-That's good to know, what a coincidence!" He comments, chuckling to himself as he wipes a hand over his face, grimacing at the dampness that comes away with it - he really needs to wash up.

"And yet! The gods smile upon us." Niki says with a smile, watching as the moth flutters his wings to move from Tubbo's hand to hers.

Nobody seems to notice the unimpressed look that Quackity shoots towards the night sky, but Tubbo's eyes snap towards him the instant he lets out a deep sigh.

"I guess so. Anyhow. I'm going to pass out on my bed, I'll see you tomorrow morning?" The human asks, tone a sweet mixture of enthusiastic, hopeful and exhausted as he moves away from the wall - his guitar in one hand and the untouched mug of ale in the other. 

Tubbo nods enthusiastically, grinning widely at him; next to him, Niki smiles kindly, while Fundy goes for a much more noncommittal nod of his head.

Quackity's eyes linger on the three of them for just a moment more, as if trying to figure something out, then he nods to himself and raises the mug to mimic a toast in their honour, opening the door to the inside of the tavern.

"Don't keep me waiting!"

[amphtaminedreams]

Spring/Summer & Haute Couture Week 2021: Whoops, I’ve Missed a Loooot (Part 2)

Hey to anyone reading,

I’m so sorry for the gap between the last fashion week review post and this one! Argh. I had no idea I posted it as long ago as the beginning of March but I think we can all agree that lockdown has fucked with our perceptions of time completely. I wish I could say the delay in posting was as simple as me being busy but I’ve also started to reflect on whether or not I want to carry on this format of posts for the time being; on the scale of problems, this one is wayyy down there in the very lower quartile of the first world region, but my motivation to carry on this kind of content in the form of long-winded text posts is...meh...not so much there anymore. At first I was thinking the issue was that working on these was my last priority on my daily to-do lists but as I’ve got back into writing fiction, it’s kind of occurred to me that the fact I was putting these posts on my to-do lists in the first place along with things like doing the ironing and contacting student finance speaks volumes. When I’m back from work or winding down, opening up Tumblr and coming back to this draft isn’t something that I think of as a fun stress reliever in the way drafting stories is. It doesn’t feel like I’m using my imagination or my creativity or expressing myself in any way and it’s not much of an escape from day to day life in the way that writing dialogue or exploring characters is. Maybe it’s because I’ve done quite a few of these posts now but I just tend to feel like I’m repeating myself, you know kinda like when you’re writing an essay and trying to fill up a word count; of course there are collections that I do have a lot of opinions on but by and large, sometimes it boils down to THESE CLOTHES ARE JUST FUCKING PRETTY, OKAY?! There’s only so many things you can say about a tulle skirt or an exaggerated collar before you want to strangle yourself with said tulle. I used to think iF VoGUe RuNwaY wRitErs CaN dO iT WhAT's MY exCusE until I realised that 1). Vogue Runway writers actually get paid and 2). for the most part all they do is explain the designer's intentions behind the collections verbatim without giving a critical opinion anyway.

I think a lot of the pressure I feel to justify what are in reality quite simple observations and opinions goes back to some of the feelings I explained in my first ever fashion week review where people who know more about fashion and have a formal education in the subject tend to be kind of gatekeep-y and elitist. It can never be that you appreciate different things about a collection but rather than one of you has taste and the other doesn’t and if it wasn’t obvious, the taste level assigned to you by the powers that be tend to positively correlate with the amount of money you have available to spend on a degree that has a reputation for failing to provide a steady income, which for most makes it an unrealistic avenue to pursue. I know, I know, the pressure is totally self-inflicted and wholly imagined seeing as I have under 500 followers on here and those who do interact with these posts most likely do so for the pictures but I still feel it, and given that I’m going to have enough external pressure to write essays when I return to uni in September, why on earth am I wasting time putting it on myself? When just posting photosets of my favourite looks is not only actually enjoyable for me but is also what other people WANT to see too? Nobody wants to read a self-indulgent paragraph like this when they’re here for the clothes and to be honest, for the most part I don’t want to write them anyway unless it’s something I have strong feelings about or if a collection can only be properly appreciated with analysis. I think I’ve made pretty clear which designers I’m a fan of, do you really need to hear me raving about Gucci or Zimmerman or Miu Miu or Balenciaga again? Is there gonna be anything revolutionary in yet another rant about Maria Grazia? Course not. I mean, if you are reading, you might have to witness those things one last time because I do intend to finish off this season’s review in this format for consistency purposes and because I’ve already got all the notes now but on the whole, I doubt anyone will miss my rambles.

So, with all that in mind, I think after I finish my S/S21 posts I am gonna start just uploading these posts without the written part. I mean, for one, the simplicity of doing this means I’m much less likely to procrastinate making them which in turn means I’ll be able to get them out right after the shows as a kind of summary as opposed to months later when they’re no longer as relevant. This will also give me more time to work on the writing I actually enjoy. Right now I’m going through and editing my 17 year old self’s “grown-up” take on the Pretty Little Liars blackmail murder mystery style plot line which I wrote back when I was completely and utterly obsessed with the show and bitterly disappointed by the last couple of seasons. The writing is pretty mediocre and often hugely cringey to read back now but I am still a fan of the basic plot and I’m genuinely motivated to see if I can make it something actually worth reading, and to get onto that ASAP; this feels especially important right now given that the HBO version of the series’ apparent upcoming release has sent that ever-present writer’s fear of seeing-your-same-storyline-done-better-by-somebody-else-thus-forever-relegating-your-version-to-being-the-poor-imitation-so-you-gotta-get-there-first into overdrive (or maybe that’s just me and my neuroses). Again, it’s a totally unfounded fear based on the fact that the HBO show will probs get millions of viewers whilst I will be doing little more than shouting into the void but anybody who’s used Turnitin to submit an essay that ultimately counts for little more than like 1% of your grade or degree will know that no matter how irrelevant your work is, the concept of failing a plagiarism check, be it via a computer algorithm or one random stranger on the internet’s assessment, is enough to conjure visions of the 4 horsemen of the apocalypse galloping towards you screaming “START THE WHOLE THING AGAIN” before releasing a hoarde of 2015 Chanel vs. Walmart style comparison memes.

Now, speaking of Chanel, I should probably get back into the reviewing. 

So for the last time for a little while, here’s Christian Siriano:

Siriano’s designs are a great example of work I feel guilty enjoying. I know that when it comes to quality, the high fashion community have a lot of (negative) things to say and I really can’t speak to that because quite honestly, I know very little about textile manufacturing. Solely from my own point of view though, I do like his work a lot. I wouldn’t claim for a minute that he’s a pioneer in terms of his creations but I would 100% love to wear them and I DO hugely admire his commitment to putting women of all sizes on the runway and designing pieces that don’t simply cater to straight up and down types which is more than can be said for most brands. I get that his collections are pretty formulaic, taking what has worked for the likes of Chanel and Alessandra Rich, De La Renta and Carolina Herrera, Michael Kors too (who is kind of guilty of the same thing himself), but that’s not to say his work is bad. Let’s be real, we’ve been on this planet thousands of years, we’re all taking inspiration from someone, and maybe figures like Kors and Siriano could wait a *little* longer before taking said inspiration but their aim at the end of the day is to sell clothes, not break barriers, a task which although often left to the big name brands, they too often fail at. I’m not going to lie, I’m feeling this whimsical mid-century tea party vibe, it’s elegant and it’s cutesy and My Fair Lady-esque, and you bet your arse I would be absolutely thrilled to wear one of these looks on a summer red carpet. I just can’t say no to anything tulle-maybe it’s that I was on Toddlers & Tiaras in a past life or maybe it’s that I watched too many Barbie Princess films growing up, but I like pretty much everything going on here, especially Siriano is giving us matching fedoras too. Plus, can we take a moment to praise Siriano for his COVID relief efforts? Near the beginning of the pandemic, he turned his studio into a mask manufacturing factory in order to send them out as donations, and I think that is very cool.

Then there’s Christopher Kane who once again came through with the most insanely gorgeous prints:

I mean, paint splattering is hardly a new technique but I haven’t seen it done as a print so tastefully before-it eats the Moschino biro scribble print (which apparently was copied too speaking of the tendencies of designers to “borrow” inspiration) for breakfast. It’s shit because there weren’t many looks in this collection and they weren’t really shot in a way that does them any justice but I thought I’d include the few I saved.

Comme Des Garcons is a fave of the high fashion community and one I look forward to seeing at fashion week but can never quite get behind. I appreciate the what-the-fuckery of it all with this show totally being able to pass as a run-through of some kind of nuclear waste themed scare house at one of Thorpe Park’s fright nights. I assume given that and the plastic Mickey Mouse print it’s supposed to be some kind of reference to the part late-stage capitalism has played in the hellish landscape we find ourselves in today? Or something all intellectual? In which case I made my interpretation with farrrr too much confidence. But Anyway! Who knows! I’ll leave the analysis to the fashion students, and give it one word: trippy.

Onto Dion Lee, a brand I truly do get excited to talk about because it’s rare that I don’t LOVE his work.

Without fail, Lee manages to be confidently ahead of the curve without going out of his way to announce it and his genius to everyone with flamboyant shows and exaggerated designs and extortionate prices. He is very much an underdog in the fashion world in terms of big names but you’ll be hard pressed to find anyone who doesn’t love his collections. His S/S21 collection is one of my favourites of the bunch. I love seeing something I’ve never seen before and the palm leaf breast plate is so odd but so cool and so perfectly Dion Lee at the same time; we’ve seen jungle/tropical inspired collections sooo many times *cough cough D&G cough cough* and THIS is how you make them fresh and unique. I mean, never in a million years did I think I’d get behind the resurgence of the gladiator sandal trend but Lee has me changing my mind. This is one of the very rare times you will ever see me using this meme to praise a man but:

I mean, he has Fernanda Ly modelling for him, that the man has taste goes without saying.

Now for a bit of a full circle moment, given that I did actually praise Dior’s haute couture collection in my first ever post; Maria Grazia did GOOD. Well, with haute couture at least.

She’s always pretty hamfisted with her references, there’s no denying, with that Grecian Goddess style RTW collection typifying that statement completely, but luckily she struck gold this time round; as someone who studied the Tudors for A-level history, seeing a modern take on the exaggeratedly feminine renaissance silhouettes with the baroque prints and the deep jewell tones got me super excited especially when you throw in the dreamy tarot theming and the nods to the mystical and arcane. Seeing as the Heavenly Bodies Met Gala (I know, I know, I need to move on) was some time ago now and Cersei Lannister’s *SPOILER* been crushed by a rock (could also be seen as a metaphor for the irrelevancy David Benioff and D.B Wise condemned GoT to when they aired that shitty ending tehe) and so probably won’t be getting a collection based on her costumes any time soon, this is the only fashion take on this kind of period dress I’m going to get…and you know what? I’m okay with that. Thanks Maria, I guess?

Her RTW collection wasn’t absolutely awful either, and slightly better than the past few collections at least. Put a monkey in a room with a typewriter (or show it enough similar well-received collections) and it will eventually write something that makes sense, don’t they say? I like the nomadic feel of a lot of the looks and there’s beautiful layering going on but the aura of exotic opulence unsurprisingly didn’t stick around for long and I found that there was a decline in quality in the midsection of the show that landed a lot of the outfits in either awkward mother of the bride at a beach wedding or The Only Way is Essex Ocean Beach PLT sponsored poolside party territory. The looks picked back up a bit towards the end stretch of the show but I wasn’t a fan of the Gucci style oversized glasses which were so out of place with the rest of the theming that if anything they seemed like a cheap grab at relevancy. So yeah, a middling, subpar Etro-esque collection which is better than usual for Dior I suppose.

Next, Elie Saab, whose S/S21 collection was kinda disappointing, tbh. Oh how the turns have tabled given that positive Dior review and my usual love of Saab’s collections.

I know his dresses lose some of their appeal when we can’t see them in motion but even ON the runway I can’t see myself being dazzled by any of these pieces the way I usually am. They’re lacking the level of detail and craftsmanship I associate with the brand seemingly in favour of block colours and suits and the issue is that the whole Disney Princess fantasy has always been the appeal for me because the silhouettes aren’t interesting enough on their own. They’re not ugly pieces, they’re nice, but does nice really have a place in high fashion when the pieces are so basic in both their design and presentation that the shots could pass as ripped from a catalogue? The strongest parts of the collection were when it did go down the more delicate route with the muted blue suits and the white feather trimmed dresses, the small, ornamental gold details reminding me of a very toned down nod to Schiaparelli’s hardware, but with regards to the bright coloured pieces, I can’t lie-they did look like something you could find in the M&S Per Una holiday section. Then you’ve got the weakest parts, which were just flat out ugly: sheer giraffe print, sweat band style elasticated waits, and long chiffon shirts that I hate to admit read as frumpy. There are times where I’ve not been particularly excited by an Elie Saab collection in the past, but I do think this is the first time I’ve actively disliked parts of it.

Conversely, Erdem’s S/S21 collection was super strong, and solidified the brand’s place in my mind as a dependable source of kooky maximalism, this time round giving us  Anya Taylor Joy’s Emma wardrobe on speed. You could tell me Erdem Moralıoğlu had just raided the Bridgerton set’s fitting rooms and put it on a runway and I would 100% believe you and I mean that in a positive way because to give my unpopular opinion, the clothes were the only good thing about that show. The endearingly florid details of exaggerated bows and clashing florals were still there but this time in a way that felt more subtle and self-assured, as if the calming influence of the wooded set’d had a direct hand in the designs, giving the rugged, ethereal feel to the collection I associate with brands like Brock and Simone Rocha, all whilst keeping the parts of Erdem I’m so fond of.

Is it really much of a shock that I included pretty much every look from the Etro S/S21 show?  Like, you know that Christian idea of God, like, (the voice in my head is very much taking on the dumb valley girl voice that anybody who reads this is most probably getting too) knowing our souls? I think Veronica Etro knows mine. So no, no surprise. Though there were a few unconventional touches thrown into these looks (the campier prints and nautical theming we see with the 80s beach towel print, for example, reminded me a bit of Versace) the mystical bohemian it girl that Etro designs for would still be highly satisfied. Sure, it might be a wardrobe fit for a holiday less adventurous than backpacking but if she wanted a tropical poolside holiday, this collection is the one, the paisley print chiffon mini and maxi dresses especially. I’m just gonna pretend I don’t see the monstrosity that is leggings worn as trousers-it’s a fashion rule I refuse to abandon-because they are the only stain on an otherwise expectedly gorgeous collection.

Next, an unusually reserved RTW collection from Fendi:

More in line with the wardrobe of a European fashion editor than the glamorous trophy wife (who let’s say uses that facade as a guise to ruthlessly run her husband’s whole business empire from behind the scenes because in this house we do complex female characters only), these pieces are lot “smarter” and more professional looking than Fendi’s typical offerings; where I feel Fendi usually designs for the society girl who wouldn’t mind a front page scandal, these are the kind of outfits a young member of Monaco’s royal family would wear for a positively received but business-as-usual press tour. I know, Fendi is an Italian brand, but this is more Southern France to me. We’re talking some 2nd page shots of a Kate Middleton type on a yacht on the Riviera smiling and waving as her PR team’s ideal scenario. Still, whilst fewer exaggerated silhouettes, animal prints and overtly luxurious fabrics (real leathers, silks and furs for example) mean that the drama’s a little toned down, it’s all still very expensive looking and combines the classically feminine glamour of the past and the minimalism of modernity in the artful manner that we’re used to. Maybe it’s me being a basic bitch but I always love seeing Ashley Graham on the runway too, even if brands to tend to use her as their single token plus size model.

Kim Jones’ debut haute couture collection for Fendi, however, wasn’t a very well received one. I don’t hate it personally but I can see where the criticisms are coming from. Whilst it’s closer to the version of Fendi I’ve come to expect and there were some stunning pieces which completely encapsulated that distinctive aura of luxe and glamour, there were quite a few lazy pieces which could’ve been from any designer. I also felt the collection was a bit upstaged by what seemed to be a who’s who of the modelling world; having Bella, Cara, Kate and Naomi ALL walk in one show was a bit distracting and took the focus off the clothes completely.

Giambattista Valli’s RTW collection was gorgeous as ever; the man has undeniably mastered the art of delivering classic, objective elegance, the kind of designs I feel would make you light on your feet and smell like strawberries and cream the minute you put one on. Whilst as a brand his RTW shows are rarely trendsetting, they reliably produce a plethora of unfailingly graceful and demure pieces, as appealing to your mum and your grandma as they are to young women and little girls, and this collection is another victory lap for Valli when it comes to upholding his signature tea party and artisan cupcake making and rose garden strolling and bottomless rosé brunch appropriate aesthetic. There were a lot of outfits that were bordering on overly juvenile, with structures a little too basic to justify the amount of sequins thrown on, but when it’s good, it’s so sweet that regardless of how to formula it is, I can’t help but fall in love.

Valli’s haute couture collection was stunning too and for sure a more exciting offering than the RTW. There was of course a lot of the signature tulle but it was head-turning, over the top in a way that leant far more towards the experimental than I expected. The photos themselves are 100% believable as a some kind of Vogue behind the scenes editorial shoot on the set of live action Disney princess movie (in between takes of the climactic ball scene if you wanna get specific with the vision); if you are looking for a prettier alternative to the primary colours and disruptive shapes of a Molly Goddard collection, this is the one. It’s giving the themes of excess and abundance I associate with that of the Hunger Games Capitol but through the softer lens of a Sofia Coppola movie, and being the typical cinema loving white girl I am, I’m obviously on board with that vibe.

I did SUCH a 180 on Givency’s S/S21 collection from when I first saw it to writing a review. My initial reaction was one of disappointment, I guess simply because Givenchy has given us so many bold pieces and presentations over the last few years whereas this is more low-key. After properly considering it though as I would any other brand, I came to the conclusion that I do actually really like it. It’s still got the strange, androgynous silhouettes popping up throughout and the futuristic space-age details but with a more down-to-earth, streetwear feel, albeit a very slick, glossy spin on the trends of the rabble (that’s us guys) of course before we go believing it’s achievable. On the one hand, the devil horn accents are a touch Claire’s accessories halloween range but at the same time, done with confidence they’re kind of cool and bring something new and fun to the table in line with the dark theatre of Givenchy’s last few shows.

Now for Gucci, which for the first time I have to say, if I'm attempting objectivity, is not a standout. 

Like, can I just start by saying though the format it’s presented in is cute, it’s not ideal as a way of actually showing the collection. I get that the vintage shop bin vibe is a huge part of Gucci’s brand but polaroids make it SO hard to actually see the clothes, and that’s what we’re here for right? I don’t want to give the impression that I don’t like what I see here-the clothes are gorgeous, an idyllic ode to the off-duty wardrobes of Studio 54-ers, bohemian style icons like Charlotte Rampling and young Olivia Newton-John, psychedelic rock guitarists and the inhabitants of San Fransisco’s Haight during the late 60s and early 70s, Alessandro Michele’s favourite period of reference. I can’t pretend otherwise, or act like I wouldn’t want to wear the shit out of this collection. Buut, for Gucci? It’s a little underwhelming. These are the kind of filler looks we get in a typical Gucci show to go alongside the more statement pieces, which this collection is lacking. It’s just that these are designs which usually gets people talking and these pieces don’t do that. It sucks because for most other brands this would be a stand out collection, an immersive, luscious vignette of what people tend to think of as a cultural golden era, but when you’ve had a show that involved models carrying replicas of their own decapitated heads down the runway in the last 5 years, of course something more toned down like this is gonna generate a lot of “is that it?”s.

I owe Hermes an apology. Looking back, I have disliked all their previous collections for the same reason that I now really like this one; maybe it’s in part down to the frustration of still having to whack out the winter coat on occasion in May (fuck British weather and climate change), but suddenly I really appreciate the value of some good quality, versatile outerwear. Hermes is giving us that in spades here and for that, I bow down to them. The pieces on offer are clearly well-made and genuinely practical, and through the minimalist approach manage to retain both an air of timeless sophistication whilst also being youthful and on trend. The leather tactical vest co-ord I can easily see edged up and taking centre stage on one of those insane Seoul street style slow-mo TikToks that were big a couple of months ago and there are several pieces that could tie together a grunge influenced k-style look just as well as they could exist for years on end as the wardrobe staple of a high-powered businesswoman. Designer Nadège Vanhee-Cybulski’s strengths really come through with the simpler looks and it’s the patterned pieces that drag down an otherwise flawless collection; I guess because the aesthetic is very minimalist, the patterns can’t be anything overly decorative but unfortunately this has a bit of a dowdy effect when you pair it with such modest silhouettes. Disregarding those elements of the collection though, it was super good.

It goes without saying that Iris Van Herpen’s haute couture collection was breathtaking; if the fashion community can agree on anything, it’s that this woman’s work is consistently awe-inspiring. She captures the wonder of the universe, the biological structures and kaleidoscopic colours we don’t even register, through fashion in a way that others can only imitate, to mesmerising, truly transcendent effect; I can only assume Van Herpen has mother nature whispering into her ear because how the hell else do you explain her ability to take the kind of microscopic organisms they show you images of in an outdated GCSE science powerpoint and make a dress that resembles one so stunning? Care to explain, Iris? Because if there is some kind of line of communication between the two of you can you please tell the bitch I’m over this weather and that I have cute summer outfits I’m waiting to wear so can she pack this torrential rain shit in? K, thanks xoxo

See it seems shady as fuck to go from IVH to Isabel Marant like this because we are talking 2 designers with totallyyyy different approaches to fashion; Iris Van Herpen is haute couture for starters whereas Marant is commercial, and that’s her thing, but unfair comparisons aside this collection is still a bit of a let down. This is considering I do usually really like Isabel Marant collections based on whether or not I’d wear the pieces, which seems a more appropriate barometer to use to come to a quality verdict. Whilst there were a few of the elegant bohemian pieces my mind goes to when it comes to her brand, the steps outside of that comfort zone didn’t pay off; graffiti print (can be cool if done with some subtlety which apart from a few exceptions was not the case here), cheap looking reflective fabric, and MC Hammer style dungarees, it seems to be an attempt to merge 80s trends with modern urban culture, and an attempt that at times verged on the disastrous. It’s good for a brand to experiment, of course, and appeal to a wider client base than usual, but when it’s bad the unfortunate take away is that the design team don’t have the chops to pull off straying from familiar territory; designers wouldn’t be showing at fashion week if this was truly the case because disregarding the influence of nepotism, fashion is an area you need real talent, perseverance and business smarts to excel in, and so it doesn’t do a team justice when they do fail.

J.W Anderson, on the other hand, really put his best foot forward this season and presented this work in a really cool way too which only added to the positives; whilst the way the shots were edited was funky af, it didn’t detract from the actual outfits, and if we are to see the same limitations when it comes to the F/W collections being released, this is something a lot of designers and editing teams should take note of. The idiosyncratic exaggerated shapes that we see as a recurring feature of Anderon’s collections were still on show but this time round with added femininity, billowing skirts and trailing jewellery that channel the stage looks of Stevie Nicks in a way that’s modern and functional and maybe even fit for the office if you were to work in a more creative industry with a chill boss. Could also work for a coven of witches who practice meditation by bonfires in the moonlight and burn the letters of men who wronged them in some Arizonian desert, so like I said, functional! Who doesn’t like versatility? The only thing I’m not too keen on is the shoes but they’re not so bad that it affects my opinion of the collection and they look comfy I guess.

Lastly, we’ve got to talk about Jacquemus, one of the most influential names in fashion at the moment. And yes, this time round, I’m doing it: I’m buying into the hype.

This collection is gorgeousss! I can see already that a lot of the recurring elements of the show are going to be big summer trends for this year (the cut outs and strappy details on the blouses are everywhere already) even though it isn’t hot enough to have collectively decided the time to start dressing for heat is upon us yet, and that’s always a good indicator of how successful the designer was in their vision and attempts to assess the needs and wants of fashion enthusiasts; whether I’m as big a fan of his work as everyone else seems to be, there’s no denying Simon Porte Jacquemus has always excelled at this practice if the buzz around him is anything to go by. It makes sense given the last year of us all being stuck in and suppressed that a lot of us are already romanticising the summer ahead, anticipating picnics and beach days and general Theresa May running through wheat fields type shenanigans galore, in spite of how dubious an assumption it is to make that British weather will allow for this; Porte Jacquemus has very much catered to this wishful thinking and the popularity of the whole escapist “cottage core” aesthetic, sexing it up a little bit with pieces that hug the body in ways only Mugler knows how whilst being lightweight and relaxed enough to look good with windswept, sandy hair and a little dose of sunburn. I’m talking enough to give you some cutesy freckles and rosy cheeks not PSA on the importance of suncream territory, guys, what is it with those of us on the gen Z/millennial cusp not taking sun damage seriously!? Why do I have to beg so many of my friends to wear it!? Does nobody else remember those photos they’d show you in PSHE in English primary schools of burnt people’s skin under UV lights? Or is that just me being weird and only having such a vivid memory of the images because teachers told us we had to wait until year 6 to see them due they to their “graphic” nature only for my gore-loving self to be extremely underwhelmed when we finally did get that lesson? They showed us a woman giving birth in year 4 for fuck’s sake. THAT was traumatising.

Back to the actual point anyway, with just a couple of negatives, the first of which being that the pieces are very similar to those feminine looks we saw dotted about the Jacquemus menswear collection from last year that were all over fashion Twitter. In Simon Porte Jacquemus’ defence though, it makes sense that those tones and silhouettes would be revisited in a full womenswear collection for that very reason; considering they went down so well and that lockdown gave us a bit of a half-baked summer in 2020, expanding on those elements enough for a whole new collection makes good business sense. We did get some cool additions too, mainly in the form of accessories, with the hardware details on the belts similar to those included in the Givenchy collection and the abstract hair slides being standouts for me. It was all exquisite-the shoes, the jewellery, the styling, everything 10/10. My other nitpick, and I say nitpick not because it’s not important but because it’s an issue that’s hardly restricted to Jacquemus (this casting team are far from the worst offenders, Saint Laurent I’m looking at you), is that I WISH we’d see more diversity with the models. Despite what my body dysmorphia yells at me, I am small, and yet seeing all those fucking minuscule waists made me die a little inside; it’s crazy to me that in 2020 the lack of variety in body types on the runway is still such a problem.

I must have said this a million times but I don’t want to end on a negative note so let me reiterate: this collection was STUN. NING. Plus there were some others I’ve talked about in this post that I’m sure will make it into my top 20 in the final part, Jacquemus, Dion Lee and Etro for sure; we even got some gorgeous pieces from Maria Grazia which I thought was a sentence I’d never type out. Have I said enough to not leave a bad taste in the mouth of anyone who read to the end of this post? I hope so, lol! TBH, it’s impressive given everything that’s going on that the majority of designers did roll out collections in September as usual so serious respect to them and their design teams for that.

In the next post, I’ll fingers crossed be able to include everything from Kim Shui (exciting!) through to at least Off-White (actually pretty good this time?!) and make this whole thing a 4 parter before getting straight on top of the photo posts I’m thinking about doing for the time being for the F/W21 shows. So as usual, if you did read to the end thank you so much and I respect the perseverance you must have to get through all my rambling, lmao. Hope everyone is well and coping okay and again, my inbox is always open for any post suggestions, constructive criticism, or just a chat for anyone who needs a listening ear.

Big love and thank you again!

Lauren x

[thelaurenshippen]

oh hey, here’s a playlist from 2017 that I realized wasn’t on my website with the rest of them and that I totally wasn’t thinking about because there’s actually a part two that has never seen the light of day that may or may not be incoming

notes on my website and also under the cut

As I write, I like to build playlists for all my characters and, occasionally, will make playlists as a character as well. These playlists are part of my writing process and I take them far more seriously than anyone should. Sometimes the playlists come together instantly and effortlessly and sometimes I play around with them for months. As such, there are a fair number of cast-offs that never make it onto the final, official playlist. That's what this playlist is.

So here we are: all the songs that nearly made it on to the character playlists but got cut for various reasons. Those reasons tend to fall into one of a few categories:

There wasn’t space / another song was serving a similar purpose

The song was right for the character but not right for the character at the beginning of their story (which is what most of the playlists are)

The mood/genre/tempo of the song was out of place in the playlist

I discovered the song after the playlists had been put together.

All my playlists are very specifically ordered, so adding or removing songs after their publication is more or less impossible. Instead, I would throw songs into this B-Side playlist as they appeared, meaning that, unlike most of my playlists, the order here is random (aka this playlist has NO flow). Here is a list of where they would have gone had they made the final cut. The characters are listed above the tracks, with a link to the playlist in question.

A/N, 2020: These are the B-Sides specifically from pre-Season 4. Back in August of 2017, I  did a sticker giveaway to see what folks would guess about which songs were for which characters - these annotations were published after that giveaway and thus, there's some reference to how people guessed!

WADSWORTH 

1. “Heavy Metal Lover” - Lady Gaga

This is a Wadsworth song through and through in terms of style and swagger. There just wasn’t space for it.

But would you love me if I ruled the world

DAMIEN 

2. “Reaper Man” - Mother Mother

This is a song that was recommended to me as a Damien song by tumblr user kalgalen and I am actively mad that I didn’t know this song before making Damien’s playlist. The style, the lyrics - everything about this song is Damien. And it actually fits perfectly after the opening track but by the time I was made aware of it, it was too late.

Oh yeah, I’m an ugly mess/not in the face, but in the head - regardless of how attractive Damien is, this is something he thinks. God, what an edgelord line this is.

Oh yeah, I got no choice/got no choice/but to love myself - I mean, it’s just all there.

A/N, 2020: this song eventually made its way onto a playlist -  my playlist for A Neon Darkness, Damien's book.

CHLOE 

3. “Her Morning Elegance” - Oren Lavie

I love that this song really conjures a visceral image to your brain - it paints such a vivid picture. It’s delicate, but determined. I think Chloe sometimes moves through her world separate and observing and that’s what this song is.

There’s also an amazing music video that I think Chloe would watch over and over again.

I got a lot of submissions guessing that this was a song for Sam and I really see that too. It fits well with the aesthetic of her playlist and the theme of fighting for your life everyday definitely resonates with Sam, as does the “Nobody knows” lyric. But the lyrics are also about being out in the world, which is something Sam doesn’t do but Chloe wants to continue to do desperately, despite her ability making it difficult.  

CALEB/ADAM 

4. “Blue and Yellow” - The Used

This was a song suggested by my sister for Caleb and Adam because of the colors involved and also because The Used was a band we both listened to a lot when we were emo teenagers like Adam. Ultimately, this song feels very dated as early emo and didn’t quite fit musically on any of their mixes, either in-universe or not.

And it’s all in how you mix the two/and it starts just where the light exists/it’s a feeling that you cannot miss/and it burns a hole/through everyone that feels it

5. “Stupid for You” - Waterparks

This is another song that was recommended to me, this time by a tumblr user and it is absolutely perfect. I didn’t even realize that there was pop punk being made like this anymore, so I was delighted.

You’re yellow, I’m natural blue/let’s get together and be green like my insides - I mean??? Couldn’t have said it better myself

Also, the refrain of “stupid for you” fits perfectly with the “I’m the guy who’s been so stupid about you that it broke my fucking super power!” I mean, I clearly ghostwrote this song.

ISO: the tumblr user who suggested this song. I have scoured both of my blogs to find the ask to no avail so if it was you, please raise your hand.

Both of these songs would go on a Caleb/Adam ship mix if such a thing existed. But in fact, both their mixes are in-universe and, while one of them might put this on a mix now, it would have been way too vulnerable of a thing to put on one of those earlier playlists. I've linked to their second in-universe mix - the quite lovey one that Adam makes for Caleb.

MARK 

6. “Time Machine" - Robyn

This definitely felt a little too on the nose for Mark, so I went with “Hang With Me” instead. But Mark loves Robyn and would love the DeLorean reference in this so it was very tempting. It’s also a song all about making impulsive decisions, which Mark definitely does a lot, but in classic Robyn style, it’s such a bop despite the serious lyrics. That balance fits Mark perfectly.

7. “F U” - Miley Cyrus

I know this song is about someone cheating, but it is such a good angry-fuck-you song that I can’t help but think of it in the context of Mark’s feelings towards Wadsworth. Having missed the heyday of pop borrowing from dubstep and the increasing use of internet slang, I think Mark would have gotten out of The AM and fallen hard for this song. I imagine many an afternoon before Joan gets home from work just angry dancing around the living room singing along to this.

SAM/MARK 

8. “Someone to Fall Back On” - Jason Robert Brown

This is 100% Sam singing to Mark about being his knight in shining armor. Sam is hard on herself - doesn’t realize her own strength - so the self-deprecating lyrics really work for her. It didn’t make it on the playlist because it felt like it was a little further down the line in their relationship - somewhere around Episode 40.

I’ll take your side/if I’m the only one/I’m used to that/I’ve been alone/I’d rather be/the half of us/the least of you/the best of me

I got a lot of guesses for Frank on this one, which completely fits. He’s quite a bit more confident in his abilities than Sam - if he thinks he can be your knight, he’ll say so right from the get-go.

9. “Can’t Get Started With You” - Ella Fitzgerald

This is pretty self-explanatory. It didn’t fit with the very particular structure that I created for the Sam/Mark playlist and it also felt like a later stage of their relationship. That playlist was them falling in love and wanting to be in the same time; this song is getting close to that but then getting pulled apart again, first by Damien and then by the difficult realties of actually trying to have a relationship. If the previous track is end of Season 3 for them, this is a Season 4 song.

A/N, 2020: it certainly is a Season 4 song, because it actually ended up going on their Season 4 playlist.

DAMIEN/MARK 

10. “Elvis Ain’t Dead” - Scouting for Girls

So…this is a reject from an as of yet published playlist. I know - not fair. Think of this as the free square on a bingo sheet. In the course of writing Season 3, I was motivated to make a playlist for a relationship that was becoming increasingly interesting to write. While this playlist could certainly be seen as a ship playlist, I have no intentions to ever put these characters together in a real way, but their dynamic was so compelling that I wanted to explore it. I will eventually release the playlist because it’s one of the best I’ve made, but I didn’t want it influencing anyone’s reaction to the end of Season 3. Loose lips sink ships.

I wish it was me you chose/Elvis ain’t dead/and you’re coming back

Okay, okay, I won’t leave you hanging because a few people actually guessed this one right - it’s from a Damien/Mark playlist. This is actually one of three unpublished Damien mixes - for whatever reason, music is the fastest and easiest way for me to connect to him. He really brings out the playlist-making skills in me.

A lot of people guessed that this was Agent Green which I absolutely love. Poor Owen.

A/N, 2020: I didn't link to the playlist originally, but it exists now! To this day, I think it's some of my best work.

ROSE 

11. “Carolina” - Harry Styles

This was mostly rejected because I felt stupid having two songs called “Carolina” on one mix and Sara Bareilles trumps Harry Styles (as much as I love him). But in style and content, this really feels like a Rose song.

[headoverhiddles]

Universally Loathsome - Marilyn Manson x Reader

Synopsis: After his show at the Hard Rock in Orlando, you and your man put your complimentary Universal Studios park passes to good use. 

Notes: I wrote this because Universal Florida is my happy place, and I need a pick me up right now lol. Also, this takes place right after this concert, so Heaven Upside Down era. 

His lazy drawl fills the Hard Rock Cafe arena, as the strobes go crazy.

"I love you beautiful motherfuckers so much," he points to the crowd, to a response of deafening cheers, "Florida's where it all started for me, and... I almost got arrested for indecent exposure in Jacksonville, which is... pretty close to here." More cheering. "So if any willing gentlemen in the crowd would like to come up here... and let me put my dick in their mouth..." The cheers grow. "...History can repeat itself." He grins, stumbling around and leaning on the mic stand. "I wonder what would happen if I... oops," he pops the top button of his vest open. "Oh no, I can't believe I just showed you all my tits, ahh, I'm such a slut..."

The crowd is going absolutely insane, and he winks over to you suggestively. You watch your boyfriend, trying to hold in your giggles. He's in what he likes to call rascal mode tonight, you can tell. And good thing-- you two roped complimentary passes inside the theme park for the rest of the night to celebrate, so he can let out all this energy after the show. The regular park closes in a half an hour, horror nights too, with it being Halloween, but the extra hour is just for you two, paid for well no doubt.

After Mar's done and the strobes distract the audience enough for him to bound off stage, he runs into your open arms. After you hug your sweaty man, he picks you up, spinning you around and smiling like a big kid.

"Let's go play." 

"Shower first," you give him a stern look. He nods, resigning himself to the fact that he's really gross and covered in sticky glitter makeup.

You hang out backstage as he gets cleaned up, saying goodnight to some of the roadies. You check social media and search for this concert, as you do sometimes just for fun, and see people already sharing photos they'd taken of Marilyn screaming or wading into the crowd.

You snort to yourself, and save one that looks right up his nostril. Beautiful angle, and perfect for blackmail when he's being a dick.

"Let's do this."

You turn, and see him dressed in a hoodie that reminds you of the full body zip from his High End Of Low days.

"I know what you're thinking, and no, this is not the depression hoodie," he sticks a finger in your face and wags it. "I burned that a long time ago." You pretend to bite his finger, and take his arm.

Your bodyguards, who warily agreed to leave the two of you alone once you get into the park, lead you down, out the back door of the hotel venue, and through a citywalk shortcut to the front gates of Universal Studios Orlando.

"I haven't been here since I was a teenager," you grin, listening to the entrance music and sighing from the nostalgia. "This has always been my happy place."

"I've literally never been here," he tells you, "We go to the one back home in LA, but I've never been to this one myself. I used to live here but I only ever wreaked havoc on Disney with Twiggy."

"Oh, Universal was spared?"

"Until now, yeah. So you'll have to be my tour guide here." He takes his sunglasses from his face, hands them off, and turns to his guards. "Okay, that's fine, we're fine."

"Sir, we really think--"

"We talked to the park operators, and there's like... nobody here right now, we're both fine," Marilyn insists, "Bye." So, you two are left alone as you walk toward the gates.

Your passes are scanned by an older woman who doesn't seem to recognize Marilyn, since his name on the pass is Brian. For the best. To your left, towers one of your favourite rides.

"The Rip Ride Rockit," Marilyn reads the sign, "Ooh. Ooh, I wanna do this. Fuckin cool looking."

"Bri, you get sick on roller coasters."

"I'm too drunk to be sick, the drunk sick makes me not motion sick."

"Well, glad to hear your body has a system," you sigh, and he takes your hand as you two run toward the lit up ride.

"You get to pick your song as you ride," he muses, "Motherfuckers should have my songs on here."

Because he likes to stir shit up and see what he can get away with, Marilyn uses a VIP lanyard with his face on it to get into the express lane.

"Uh..." the young employee hesitates, frowning, "Sir, this is a meet and greet for that concert, not for--" Marilyn puts his hood down, and the guy's eyes widen. He waves you both through, starstruck. 

"Whoever said you shouldn't use your fame to get stuff... probably wasn't even famous," Marilyn says, pulling you up the steps.

"What's the hurry?" you laugh, trying to keep up, "You're just gonna throw up all over me anyway."

"It's a music ride, that's very exciting to me," he says. You can't deny you've missed this ride too, so you keep up.

You're the only two on the roller coaster train as you both pull the bar over from the side to strap yourselves in. The employee working comes over to check, and gives a thumbs up to the operator.

"Give me a handjob," he giggles.

"No! I'm gonna rip your dick off if we do that on this!"

"Nah, that'd happen like... on the Mummy." Apparently he remembers what the Mummy is like in the LA Universal park, and he's not wrong. "Uh. Uh," he starts to snap his fingers as the ride goes up, "Yeah. Hell yeah."

"What song?" you laugh.

"Stronger, by my boy Kanye."

"He's a dickhead, you know."

"So am I, doesn't make my music any less amazing."

You smirk. You'd picked Stronger as well, anyway. 

After the ride, Marilyn hangs onto you, a little bit woozy. "That was a mistake."

"I told you."

"I don't listen, I'm a child, you know this. I don’t like the rides, but the rides like me."

You two walk through the park, past the San Francisco area of the water in the middle.

"This is nice. Just walking."

"Yeah," he says. "It's nice not to vomit." You rest your head on his shoulder, giggling.

You two do a few more rides-- he has way too much fun in Men in Black shooting at everything, and Simpsons becomes a favourite, even if the only part he could keep his eyes open for was the funny queue playing the episodes. He even takes some dark, creepy pictures with the employees in Diagon Alley, posing in his new Slytherin scarf he bought.

"Can this be used for sexy purposes?" he asks one of them, holding up a wand. The girls giggle, and you roll your eyes.

"Um. Wouldn't recommend it," one responds.

"On the other hand..." the second one shrugs, "It's magic. You could just make it into something that could be used for sexy times."

"I like the way this one thinks," Marilyn smirks. "(y/n), I'm gonna use this in you."

"Like hell you are.”

“Please?”

“You can use it to spank me.” You lean in to whisper. “It’s too thin to put it in.” 

Marilyn buys the wand just to make up for the trouble he's causing the poor employees.

You head out of Harry Potter world, and circle back around to do ET.

"I wanna do the Mummy again. And what about those big ones across the citywalk thing? Spiderman, he's cool. I wanna do his ride." 

"That's the other park. If you wanna deal with your manager having a meltdown by requesting another day here tomorrow, that's your call." He immediately takes out his phone, and you huff, feeling sorry for the guy, always having to rearrange flights last minute. 

"Yeah, hey. It's me," Marilyn drawls into the phone, "I need another day here tomorrow. No, I'm just... I'm gonna be really hungover. Lots of vodka and drugs and stuff. Yeah. Amphetamines, got my face in a big... yeah, really bad, I won't be able to fly tomorrow." His eyes light up like a kid in a candy store as he sees the Halloween Horror Nights 2018 tribute store. "Gotta go, I'm snorting coke off (y/n)'s tits. Cancel my flight!"

You both run in, and get shirts from inside-- yours is a Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers one, and his is a Killer Klowns from Outer Space one, with a little clown in boxing gloves on it that says 'Shorty's Boxing Gym: Knocking Blocks Off Since '88." He poses for a picture of the new shirt in front of an old horror movie poster, hands in his jacket pockets and doing his signature sneer. He posts it on his Instagram, captioning it: 

Next motherfucker's gonna get my metal. Pic📷: @(y/handle) #justustwoclowns #wannatussle #truelove #wehatelovewelovehate #happyhalloween #universalorlando #shooterjennings.

You head inside the Egyptian crypt that leads to the Mummy, listening to Brendan Fraser's fake interview about the strange things going on on set. 

"I met him once," Marilyn tells you, "He was scared of me, he thought I was flirting with him."

"I can see how he would. You're just overly affectionate," you pat his arm.

"And high as fuck, but I wasn't flirting with him. He's too much of a pretty boy for me." 

"Yet you still wanna fuck Johnny," you tease him, and he grins, unable to refute that.

You finally get to the loading area after Marilyn stumbles over four posts in the dark queue. The lady there squeals. She's a different one than the one working earlier, and she's obviously a fan.

"Sorry for her," her coworker says, "She's a huge fan of your stuff."

"Nah, it's cool," Marilyn offers a smile.

"I was at the concert, which is why I'm working late," she explains hyperactively, "God, you were soooo amazing!" Marilyn thanks her. She waves at you as well. "By the way, I see your pictures together on insta at shows and premieres and stuff, you two make a really cute couple. Goth icons!" You smile at the girl, and thank her and her coworker for working late for you two. An obligatory selfie later, you and Marilyn get into the ride, and start heading through the darkness. You get to the part where Imohtep's face appears and fire blows beside you.

"You say god," he mutters. "I say Say10."

You get off the ride, and you nearly lose your shit when you see the ride photo. You fall to the floor, and Marilyn looks up at the screen in inquiry.

"Oh my god."

"We're buying it!"

"Absolutely fucking not. Look at my chin!"

"I love your chins, baby."

"I only mentioned one, but thanks."

You dash over to the counter, ordering the picture in the biggest size. It's gold. In it, you've got one hand up happily, the other looped with Marilyn's, and you look generally normal, other than your hair blowing a little from the force of the acceleration. His eyes are glinting yellow from light reflection, so he looks legitimately possessed; he's got his chin pressed down into his neck folds, and his mouth is halfway open, like he just remembered something he wanted to say. It's the most awful picture of him you've ever seen, so naturally, it's getting framed at the house next to his lovely prosthetic limb collection.

"Mm, makes me wanna fuck you," you lick your lips, "Give it to me, baby, I wanna look into those sexy yellow eyes while you destroy my pussy."

"You're fucked up."

You nearly collapse in laughter again.

Despite the terribly candid ride picture, Marilyn decides he likes the Mummy a bit more than the Simpsons, and after riding it four more times without fail, he's nauseous as all hell (as are you) and done in for the night.

You hold hands, heading to the gates. "Hey. Want to stop at Ben and Jerry's on the way out?" you ask.

"Nah," he drawls, hand moving down to your ass and giving it a spank, "You're the only thing I wanna lick tonight." Even motion sick and half-way to hungover, he's still in rascal mode.

A car comes to pick you up, and some press follow you to the car for a bit, taking photos and asking Marilyn for comments on the park and the show until Marilyn wraps his Slytherin scarf around his face. He gets into the car with you, and rolls the window up. The paparazzi obviously saw the Instagram post.

That makes you think...

Messing around on your phone as you're driven back to the hotel, you giggle. Marilyn keeps looking over, but he's currently too nauseous still to speak. You giggle again, and send off what you'd just done.

"Happy Halloween," you grin, punching his shoulder playfully.

He looks at his buzzing phone, and snorts. His bad Mummy picture and stylish posing Instagram picture are side by side, with your accompanying text: "Get you a man who can do both." 

[laws-yellow-submarine]

Skylar(OC)/Law One-Shot

The benefits of being hyper means I get extra writing done lol So inspiration for this is taken directly from my mystery prompts list from the event, but also it was an idea I knew I wanted to use in my fic at some point. So, while this is currently written as a one-shot, it will appear in the fic at a later point, when the story gets to when this takes place. I have a lot of fun writing Skylar and Law interactions, especially when they’re in that kind of weird “I kinda like you a little bit maybe but hell no I’m not gonna say that to anybody not even myself” stage haha hope you enjoy! 

Tradition: “Baby, it’s cold outside…”

White filled Skylar’s vision as she stared, open-mouthed, through the porthole. Fluffy mounds piled high on the hills far beyond the docks, lay flat on the rooftops in the town nearby, fell in perfect forms from the heavens to rest on the ground below. 

Damn, she owed Shachi 500 belli.

Racing through the Polar Tang, she quickly made her way to the top floor, ready to run right out onto the wooden deck. She was stopped before she even touched the door by a large hand grabbing her by the shirt.

“Where are you going, Skylar-ya?”

Skylar blinked at him, trying to squirm out of his tight grip. “Outside? Duh! It’s snow! I wanna touch it!” But Law made no move to let her go, instead raising a brow and scowling at her bright grin.

“You’re not seriously planning on going out in just that…?” He really didn’t think she could be that stupid. Sure it was only a bit below freezing, but considering the weather where she was from, frostbite would set in faster. Not to mention her risk for hypothermia. Even he was wearing a coat for crying out loud!

“Oh come on, Law, it can’t be that cold,” She huffed indignantly, putting her hands on her hips the best she could despite him still gripping her collar. 

“You need a coat.”

“Don’t have one. I’ll be fine, now let. me. go!” She continued struggling against him, but his grip just tightened, dragging her down the hall to the men’s quarter’s. After finally realizing he wasn’t going to let up, Skylar dropped to the ground and crossed her arms, forcing him to literally drag her along behind him like some petulant child. Law snagged for only a second, jolted by the sudden increase in weight, but kept to his task, determined to find something for her to wear. He wasn’t about to replace his, albeit unaffiliated, cook.

“Hey, make yourselves decent,” he called through the door after knocking, waiting for the shuffling to stop before walking inside with the obnoxious woman still on the floor behind him. A few of his men stood around, having just finished dressing themselves in hats, scarves, and gloves. “We need an extra boiler suit, who’s got one?”

Ignoring the woman’s squeals of “please don’t make me wear that!”, Law waited for his men to check their chests, feeling his scowl deepen when they all came up empty.

“Sorry, Cap...I think they’re all in the laundry room.” Right, tomorrow was laundry day. Dragging his free hand down his face, Law sighed and left the room, waving his men off to enjoy their day. He dragged Skylar further down the hall, the woman finally attempting to stand up after complaining about her bottom hurting (not that Law was paying attention to that, of course). He pushed open his bedroom door, commanding the woman to sit on the couch while he searched for a spare jacket.

Skylar, continuing to be an overall brat, sat down on the floor instead. At Law’s exasperated look, she just huffed, turning her head away before answering, “I will die before I sit on that ugly, yellow fucking couch.” 

On second thought, maybe he should let her just freeze to death.

Breathing deep through his nose, Law turned to his closet, groaning slightly when he too came up empty-handed. Apparently he only owned the one coat, and as he was already wearing it, that meant she couldn’t. Of course, he could just give it to her for now; being from the North Blue, he was more well-suited to the cold, enjoyed it even, and would be able to handle being out longer without it than she would. 

Then again, it was his coat. 

Skylar jolted in surprise when she felt a hunk of fabric hit her in the face. Looking at the bundle in her hands, she recognized the smiling face from Law’s favorite yellow hoodie. “That should help keep you warm until we can get to a shop. Don’t get it dirty.” Skylar pouted, but began putting it on anyway; Law was standing directly in front of her only exit, and she knew he wouldn’t move until she did as he said.

“I mean, I’d be the one washing it anyway,” she said, wrinkling her nose as a new smell hit her. Taking a quick whiff of the hoodie’s collar, she barked out a cough, covering her nose and holding the fabric as far away as she could. “Fucking hell, please let me wash this you are disgusting!” She let out a squeal as he plopped his hat on her head, scalp already itching from the material. “Jeez, what are you a fucking goblin? I’m washing this too! God, I’m gonna have to take like three showers to get your stink off of me!” Yet underneath the stench, Skylar didn’t miss the underlying scent of antiseptic and a soap that reminded her of the woods back home in the spring. When his back finally turned so he could open the door, she caught herself taking another sniff.

She took off as soon as the door opened, speeding back through the sub all the way to the deck, running over the gangplank, onto the docks, only to slip at the end and go barreling into a large snowbank. She quickly sat up, hands and nose burning as she tried to extricate herself from the snow. It was hard to do with how much she was shivering, and she swore if the guys still on deck didn’t stop laughing at her, she’d poison their dinners, Law be damned.

“W-w-w-why is sn-snow so f-f-f-f-f-fucking cold?! Why d-d-d-do people l-l-l-l-l-live here?!”

Law facepalmed from his position on the docks. He’d warned her.

“Come on, we need to get you someplace warm before your nose falls off,” he deadpanned, coming up next to her. Skylar blanched under the redness forming along her nose and cheeks, matching her ungloved hands.

“C-c-c-can that r-r-really happen?!” She squeaked, taking his offered hand to pull herself up.

“Sometimes. Wrap your hands in the sleeves, that hoodie’s big enough on you to cover yourself twice; take advantage of it.” For once not arguing with him, she did as he said, the warm fabric instantly taking some of the bite away from her fingers. She buried her nose in the stinky fabric as best she could, choosing to focus on the underlying “Law” scents rather than the “stinky, unwashed hoodie” scents. 

Looking like a bright yellow, spotted turtle, she waddled down the streets next to him, likely walking closer than necessary, but wholly uncaring. He radiated body heat, and while she hated admitting he was right about the cold, she’d take what she could get to get warm again. 

For his part, Law let her walk too close, keeping focused so as not to accidentally step on her. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, taking note of the shade of red she’d become from the snow. Hopefully they’d avoided frostbite, but he wouldn’t know for sure until he could actually examine her. He watched the way frost fell from her eyelashes as green eyes squinted against the wind, her silver hair blowing from underneath his hat. He’d actually had to hold in a laugh as she walked with his hoodie bunched up around her face, the bright fabric still reaching almost to her knees from the size difference. It was a shame she hated yellow so vehemently; she looked damn good in his sweatshirt.

Not that he’d tell her that. Or anyone else for that matter. In fact, reader, forget you read that; nobody needs to ever know that thought once crossed his mind.

Finally, they came across a shop selling winter coats, nestled near a small alley a few streets away from the inn they’d be staying at. Law ushered Skylar inside, smirking at the way she shivered in the sudden warmth. The shop was small, but cozy, with racks upon racks of coats, scarves, hats, and gloves in a rainbow of colors. They started for one of the women’s racks, when suddenly a loud voice called out to them from the sales counter.

“Oh, honey, what on earth are you wearing?! Baby, it’s cold outside! You need more than just a hat and a sweatshirt in this weather!” The duo whirled around to see a small, wrinkled old lady sitting behind the counter, glaring and wagging her finger at the Surgeon of Death like it was nothing. “And you! Be a proper gentleman and give that poor girl your coat! I swear, men today have no manners when it comes to treating women properly!” 

As Law sneered at the menacing finger wagging in his face, Skylar devolved into a fit of snorts and giggles, wisely choosing to go about the task of finding winter clothing instead of openly laughing in his face. He glanced back at her, ignoring the old woman for now. “Make sure you get everything; you’re more susceptible to the cold than the rest of us are, and it’s doubtful this will be the only winter island we stop at.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Skylar said, waving him off much to his annoyance. He kept his gaze on her as she perused the selection of coats, seeming stuck on what color to get.

“Don’t get those, get the yellow one,” he said, without really thinking about it. She scoffed at him.

“Ew, no. What is it with you and yellow?” Law shrugged.

“It’s your color,” he smirked at the way she gagged.

“You’re disgusting. I’m getting purple. Just to spite you.”

“What else is new?” his smug grin widened at her glare, but he left her to pick out the rest of her gear: a white hat, scarf, and pair of gloves. As they walked up to the counter, Law grabbed a pair of fluffy yellow earmuffs as well, to be safe, and opened a room while she wasn’t paying attention. Placing her items on the counter, Skylar began searching for her wallet, and Law quickly switched out the white scarf for a bright yellow one, discarding the room after doing so. The entire purchase was in the bag before she even looked up.

“Skylar-ya, stop looking for your wallet, it’s back on the sub. I’ll pay.”

“Dammit Trafalgar, stop taking my damn money!”

“Sweetie, let the man pay. It’s the least he can do for making his poor girlfriend walk around in the cold like that. You know you can find better than this, don’t you honey?”

Skylar turned red, from more than the cold this time, and began giggling again as Law fumed. His face had turned a rather interesting shade of crimson, and he slammed the money on the counter before grabbing his companion by the hood of his sweatshirt and dragging her out the door. Skylar gave a surreptitious wave to the old woman as the door slammed shut behind them.

Back out in the cold, Skylar began putting on her new purchases, amazed at how much warmer she felt from even just the jacket. Reaching into the bag as Law took his hat back, she paused, noticing a few...oddly colored items.

“Law…” He hummed. “Why is there a yellow scarf and earmuffs in here?”

“So you stay warm, obviously,” He replied, face turning smug. “Put everything on, it’s too cold to go without.”

“I fucking hate you,” She seethed, yanking the earmuffs over her white hat and tying the offensively bright scarf around her face. Law gave her no response, just waited for her to finish before starting down the road to the inn. As she fell into step beside him, he felt her anger dissipate as he situated his hat back how he liked it.

“Thank you…” Law glanced at her. “For not letting me freeze to death.” He smiled, more genuinely this time.

“If you froze to death, I’d need to find a new cook, and I don’t think the crew will tolerate me in the kitchen ever again.” Skylar laughed at that, agreeing with him, and they continued down the road in companionable silence.

[the--sad--hatter]

Name Calling (6)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - BUCKY X READER (female reader, no physical descriptions)

WARNINGS - ALL OF THEM, SMUT, VIOLENCE ANGST

DESCRIPTION -  In which the ongoing and bloody war of words between you and Bucky turns in your favor when a disgruntled one night stand of his lets slip a secret when you run into her in the elevator… Now you have all the ammunition you need to destroy your enemy but you don’t plan on killing him quickly. Oh no, Bucky Barnes was going to suffer and you were going to enjoy every second. You just didn’t count on how much you would enjoy it.

Chapter Six - Mrs Captain Spandex

“WHY THE FUCK IS ROGERS ON A DATE WITH MY CHILD?” Tony screamed as he rushed into the common room.

“You mean why is the literal embodiment of chivalry on a date with the adult daughter that you acquired two days ago? Darcy sassed.

“Exactly, why is the precious innocent girl I cherish on a date with a hundred year old man?” he rebutted.

“Tony, the independent grown up woman WE love very much is having dinner with our very good friend whom we respect and trust. Please calm down.” Pepper tried to soothe, barely concealing her amused smirk.

“Did the winged wonder know about this? WILSON!” Tony spun round, searching for a target for his fury.

“Sams in the kitchen hyperventilating into a paper bag.” Darcy supplied.

“Wait a second, you knew about this!” Tony accused Pepper.

“Yes I did.” Pepper stated calmly, arching a brow at Tony.

Tony faltered, torn between concern and outrage at the situation and fear of Pepper.

“But… isn’t he supposed to ask my permission first?” He whined petulantly.

“Not until he wants to ask for her hand in marriage.” Darcy happily chirpped, munching on the leftover popcorn from the movie.

Pepper sighed and had to resist the urge to facepalm as Tony’s face started rapidly turning red.

“SHE IS NOT MARRYING CAPTAIN SPANDEX, I FORBID IT!” He bellowed.

Darcy’s snigger turned into a full on cackle as Sam’s wailing voice drifted out of the kitchen.

“But why did nobody tell me? I had to find out through a group text, I feel so betrayed!”

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

You tugged on your seatbelt and whined. Steve was being stubborn and you did not appreciate it.

“I’m supposed to be showing you how you’re supposed to treated on a date sweetheart, and you deserve the world.” Steve argued.

“I don’t want the world, I want a burger!” You protested.

“The restaurant Pepper booked is supposed to be one of the nicest in the City.” He tried to reason with you. Unsuccessfully.

“You don’t want to go to a fancy place any more than I do, I know you.”

“If you take a take a beautiful dame out for dinner you’re supposed to treat her.” He argued weakly.

“I dunno Cap, I think you’re supposed to give the lady whatever she desires.” Happy piped up from the front seat.

“This is why you’re my favourite Happy.” You told him as he caught your eye in the rearview mirror and shot you a wink.

Steve chuckled at your antics as the car rolled to a stop.

“Oh look, we’re here.” Steve told you.

You looked out the window and back to Steve with a quizzical expression. He just raised an eyebrow at you smugly.

“You were never taking me to the fancy restaurant Pepper booked were you?” You laughed.

“I had a gut feeling you’d enjoy this more. They have the best pie in Brooklyn.” He said, getting out of the car as Happy opened your door and helped you up.

“And yes, they have burgers.” He assured before you could ask.

“Yay.” You whispered under your breath excitedly.

Steve laugh and ruffled your hair and you batted his hands away like a cat batting a ball of string much to his amusement. He caught on of your hands in his and tugged you into the cosy little diner.

You gasped softly as Steve opened the door and waved you through. The little retro diner was like stepping into the past, or onto a set of one of the old movies you had watched with the man standing beside you.

“Did you used to come here? Before?” You asked.

His answering smile was filled with the sadness of loss and fondness as he nodded. Your heart broke a little for him and you wrapped your arms around his waist.

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

Bucky stormed down the hall towards the elevator, needing to get out of the tower. He didn’t have a  destination in mind he just planned on walking until his body shut down.

“Did you get my text? Didn’t they look cute together?” Wanda called from behind him.

Bucky paused without turning round, clenching his jaw.

“No.” He snarled out.

“No, you didn’t get it? That’s ok, I’ll send it again. You really have to see it, they looked so excited for their big date.” She exclaimed excitedly and promptly walked away before he could even think about saying anything else.

Bucky growled in frustration and pushed himself towards the elevator, desperation to get out of the tower increased tenfold.

Wanda however practically skipped into the common room and over to Natasha.

“You were right.” She told her.

“Of course I was.” Natasha said with her signature smirk.

“When are we going to tell Tony and Sam it’s not a real date?” Wanda sniggered.

“After they give Cap the shovel talk?” Natasha suggested.

The two of them shared a conspirational laugh.

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

“It seemed like a good plan at the time but I had miscalculated ever so slightly because setting the explosives wasn’t usually my job and when they went off Bucky was a few feet closer than he should have been. The force of the explosion knocked him backwards, straight into the river. We all rushed over to see if he was ok and there was Bucky climbing out of the river with the most disgruntled expression you have ever seen, looking like a drowned alley cat.”

You were clutching your ribs as you cried with laughter as Steve regaled you with old tales of his exploits with the howling commando’s.

“I wish I could have seen that.” You chuckled.

“Poor Buck, he was always getting into trouble while trying to watch my back. Lost count of the amount of back alley fights he pulled me out of before the serum changed me. Then I was bigger and Buck was still watching my back, like nothing had changed.” Steve said.

You regarded his wistful expression and pushed your fries across the table to him.

“I forgot you said you used to be smaller, I can’t picture it.” You told him.

You clapped your hands together excitedly.

“I can picture it! Ohhh, Can I use your phone?” You made grabby hands at him and he handed it over with a long suffering sigh as you grabbed his hand and pushed his thumb onto the screen unlocking it.

It only took you a few minutes to find what you were looking for as Steve left you too it, polishing off the remainder of your fries. You clicked on the black and white photo and tilted your head to the side as you studied it. You held the phone up to Steve to compare the two.

“Huh.” You remarked.

“Yeah, I was...”

“The exact same.” You interrupted whatever self deprecating comment he was about to make.

He looked up in bewilderment.

“I mean your body was smaller yeah but you look the same, it’s still your face. It’s still you.” You said matter of factly.

You locked the phone and handed it back, peering into the fry basket with disappointment. You looked up to complain to Steve for eating all your fries but were stopped by the smile he was giving you. He reached over the table and grabbed your hand.

“I want you to promise me something.” He started.

“Ok, anything.” You agreed, not even having to think about it.

“Don’t hold back, when you find them. The person you want to be with. Don’t fight it and don’t wait around. When you find love sweetheart, grab onto it and don’t let it go.” He asked of you.

You knew why he was asking, you understood.

“I promise.” You said solemnly.

He squeezed you hand and smiled brightly, with all the warmth of the sun.

“Now about that pie..” He said and you laughed.

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

Bucky didn’t get any calmer as he walked, the cool air doing little to soothe the fire in him. He gave up and headed back towards the tower, resigned to another sleepless night. He sighed in defeat as he approached the tower and headed towards the doors when he saw something so awful he felt like he’d been punched in the chest. You and Steve were walking away from a car towards the same doors he was. Your shoes were dangling from one of Steve’s hands and his suit jacket was draped around your shoulders, his other hand entwined with yours as Steve threw his head back and laughed at something you said.

Steve’s eyes clocked Bucky and with mirth still on his face he called out.

“Hey Buck.”

Your eyes followed Steve’s and you grinned

“Hey there Sarge.”

Bucky glowered coldly at the two of you, before nodded once, stiffly at his oldest friend.

“Steve.” He said flatly and stalked through the lobby doors and towards the elevator.

Of course, that’s obviously where you were both heading as well he realized. You and Steve stepped onto the elevator with him and as the doors slid closed your skin crawling giggle filled the small space,

“He doesn’t seem happy to see us.” You stage whispered to Steve.

“Everything ok Buck?” Steve asked concernedly.

Bucky grunted in response.

“I think he might be jealous Stevie.” You said, a positively vicious smirk on your face.

Bucky’s head snapped round and he glared at you incredulously. Your eyes were sparkling as you snatched your heels from Steve’s hand and swung his jacket off your shoulders and offered it back to him.

“Don’t worry Bucky, you can have him back now.” You said.

Steve chuckled and took his Jacket from you.

“The dates not done until see you safely to your door sweetheart.” Steve told you.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it from here Captain.” You assured him, stretching on your tiptoes and kissing him on the cheek.

“Thank you Steve, I had the best time.”

The elevator doors slid open and you spun out of them.

“Goodnight gentleman.”

And with that you were gone and Bucky breathed a sigh of relief.

“Buck, I...” Steve began.

“I really don’t wanna fucking know pal.” Bucky snapped and stormed away.

Steve shook his head wryly and made his way to the kitchen, slowing to a halt in the common room when he was met with Sam and Tony sat in wait, arms crossed and identical disgruntled expressions on their faces.

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

You stretched your limbs and let out a little whimper of relief at being freed from the beautiful but constricting dress and lingerie and you pulled on an oversized shirt as someone hammered on your door.

You laughed as you went to let Nat and Wanda in so they could demand you recount the evening for them. Only it was a furious Bucky you found on the other side of the door instead. He strode in, forcing you to move aside and let him pass.

“Sure, come on in.” You muttered sarcastically.

He reached past you and slammed the door shut.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He snarled at you.

“Getting ready for bed?”

He lunged forwards, invading your personal space and before you could stop yourself you backed away, which was a stupid move because he followed and you were now trapped between the door and his chest as he towered over you. His eyes were dark and angry, his jaw tight and his fist clenched as he looked down at you. His chest vibrated with the force of the growl that ripped out of it.

“He’s far too good, too pure to be tainted by you. You’re a fucking experiment gone rouge, a freak and he might not be able to see the monster hiding behind that pretty face of yours but I do. Stay the hell away from him.” He warned.

“Or what?” You asked, intending to say it challengingly but his close proximity and anger made your voice more hesitant than you would have liked.

Bucky blinked in surprise and he looked between the two of you with shock, as if he hadn’t realised how close he had gotten. His breath ruffled your hair as features softened slightly and he took a step back.

“Just stay away from him.”

He grabbed the door handle and pulled the door open, pushing you out of the way as he all but fled from the room. You were shook and befuddled as the encounter replayed in your mind one thing stood out. Bucky had said you had a pretty face.

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

I’m weak, the positive feeback I got on the last chapter made me want write the next chapter. So yeah, second chapter in like 8 hours. Send Help.

@dugan365 @fluffeh-kitty @memanda17 @krystallynx@theonelittleone@piscesbarnes @free-as-fishes @tarastudiesalot@captainamericasbeard@buckybearbabe98 @nerdandproud-86 @clarkesardothian 

[lady-charinette]

Don't Mess with a Parent - Dad Noir & MamaBug Drabble

Hugo would say his father was a very nice person, he usually seemed calmer than mom, but had many moments where he was goofy and teasing and fun. He worked hard but he always had time for him, Emma and Louis.

Hugo always loved his puns, except the dad ones, his sister liked those more. He thought his father was the kindest person he knew, that nothing could ever get him angry.

Hugo learned that day, that even his dad could lose his temper.

Very, very badly.

He was in the park playing with mom and Emma while Louis and dad went to get them ice-cream from uncle Andre. He was chasing after his little sister when it happened.

Something big with wings suddenly crashed into him and before he knew it, he was flying over Paris, hanging from some creature's mouth.

It looked like a lion but it had wings. "H-Hey! Lemme go! I want to go back to mom! Hey! Ow!" The lion tightened his grip around him, releasing a snarl before it swooped down into the city, flying through the traffic until it crashed into a building.

Hugo only ever saw those kinds of buildings in movies, where the bad guys had their hideouts.

When he was finally set down and Hugo saw a woman standing before him dressed in purple, he knew.

Those were the bad guys.

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

Paris was used to the akuma attacks by now, they'd even taken safety measures against them. But nobody could predict what akuma Hawkmoth would send next and they weren't equipped to protect against all of them.

However, when an enraged Ladybug had landed on stage, disrupting Clara Nightingale's concert for a moment, the citizens of Paris knew something must've went horribly wrong as the whole room quietened down.

"My fellow citizens of Paris! There's been an akuma attack and a child was kidnapped! If any of you have seen Hugo Agreste, please report to me or Chat Noir as soon as possible! A child has been kidnapped, it's an emergency!" Ladybug has been their hero for years but the anger and distress in her voice was unmistakable, something that every mother in the crowd could resonate with. It was as if Ladybug herself had lost her child.

Chat Noir was nowhere to be seen, only Ladybug was patrolling the streets, swinging through the city with Rena Rouge and Pegase in search of the kidnapped boy.

It was only a handful of citizens that had caught it.

The black blur zipping passed rooftops, jumping over buildings like lightning.

Nobody dared question the distressed Ladybug where her partner was, they had a feeling if Ladybug was this distressed, Chat Noir would be worse. The feline hero was known to have a soft spot for children.

Paris had no idea just how much.

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

"Thanks Luka." Chat Noir kissed Emma and Louis' foreheads, rubbing their heads affectionately, tail flicking anxiously behind him.

Viperion watched the way the tail swished back and forth, like a snake ready to strike. He could feel the distress rolling off him in waves and he squeezed his friend's shoulder in sympathy. He was a dad too, he would be livid if Hawkmoth attempted something like this with his kids.

The serpentine hero nodded, cradling both children in his arms. "It's fine, go and save your kid. Kagami and I will make sure nothing happens to them." he smiled down fatherly at his friend's children, squeezing their shoulders when they stared sadly at their father.

"Papa, where's Hugo?" Emma's bottom lip wobbled and Chat bowed down and nuzzled her cheek with his, a low purr rumbling in his throat that almost instantly calmed her down.

"Don't worry princess, papa will bring Hugo back. Just wait until mommy comes. Stay with uncle Lu and auntie Kagami until then." he rubbed his daughter's cheek, squeezing the miniature hand of his other infant son as Louis rested constantly in Viperion's arm.

"Don't worry kitty cat, call on us if you need help." Chat Noir smiled slightly at the dragon heroine, whose belly was slowly beginning to show as her eldest daughter clutched at her arm worriedly. A soft hiss made him turn his head to look back at the older snake hero.

Call on me. Viperion's unspoken plea was immediately understood by Chat, of course he wouldn't endanger the pregnant woman. No matter how fierce and capable Ryuuko was on the battlefield, a pregnant Ryuuko was the perfect target for Hawkmoth. Chat Noir hadn't let Ladybug transform during her pregnancy either, Mister Bug had saved the day with Viperion, Carapace and Rena Rouge with Queen Bee as backup at those times.

With that, Chat Noir quickly left the Couffaine-Tsurugi houseboat, entrusting the duo with his remaining kittens, while going on the hunt for his kidnapped one.

Chat Noir growled, claws extending from within the sheath of his gloves, eyes narrowed into slits as his legs worked harder and harder, jumps higher, runs faster.

Nobody hurt his loved ones, not his wife, not his friends but especially not his children.

I'm coming for you Hawkmoth.

----

The chimera akuma had been standing vigilant on the roof, eyes scanning the area for the heroes, mind echoing with the soothing voice of his mistress as it commanded him to grab the siblings of the boy.

He'd prepared to take flight again, spreading its wings, before its tail was suddenly grabbed from behind and a violent force pulled it back.

A surprised growl was all it released before its back collided against the solid brick of the rooftop, shattering it in thousand pieces. It released a screeching yowl, before jumping onto its feet, teeth fletched at its enemy.

A silver staff struck the creature's face and it snarled until another powerful blow landed on it's stomach, claws digging into the concrete from pain that caused it to curl in on itself and whimper pathetically.

The air was still, a shiver racing down the akuma's spine when claw-tipped footsteps echoed closer to its cowering form. Black boots nearly crushing its trembling paws beneath their might.

The whimper it released brought a dark grin to curl the man's lips, staff twirling threateningly in his hand before it slammed in front of the akuma's nose, nearly striking it again. "Tell me where your mistress is, little cub."

The little whimper the creature gave with a submissive bow of its head told Chat Noir he wouldn't need to wait long to find out.

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

"Now little boy, why don't you tell me where mama and papa are? I'm their good friend!" the weird woman had a sweet smile on her face but Hugo shied away from her touch, fear screaming at him to move away from her. She played with her thick chestnut brown hair, smiling kindly at him, holding a cane in her hand.

She couldn't be dad and mom's friend, why would she take him away from them?

"If you're their friend, why did you take me away?" his green eyes were full of distrust and the woman laughed.

The woman laughed, olive green eyes twinkling in mirth. "Oh little kitty, don't worry. Marinette and Adrien know that, I just wanted to surprise them." Hugo moved away from her arms, pushing himself hard against the wall.

"I-I don't trust you! I-I wanna go to mom and dad!" She knew his parents' names, but this wouldn't be a nice surprise at all, it certainly wasn't to him. Bottom lip trembling, Hugo's eyes filled with tears, his whole body shaking from fear as he wailed loudly.

The wooden door was flung off its hinges suddenly, splinters and wooden pieces flying everywhere as a pained cry from her akuma landing roughly on the floor beside her made the woman stand up on high alert, shielding her face from the flying wood.

Her akumatized chimera groaned pathetically, standing on wobbly feet as it cowered behind her form. "You stupid akuma! What are you doing?!" The butterfly mask glowed over its feline face, but the lion didn't budge, muscles locked in place in fear as a shadowy figure entered through the torn down doors.

When Hawkmoth attempted to grab Hugo, something silver flashed a hair's breath away from her face, embedding itself into the cement wall behind her. It was a staff with a green paw print.

A warning.

Shadowy tendrils of darkness enveloped the man as he stalked forward like a predator, steps slow but firm, every muscle tightened in preparation for a fight, clawed hand pulsing with highly destructive power at his side.

Glowing feline eyes were dead set on her face, black cat ears pulled back and perfectly white teeth bared into a vicious snarl. His tall form towered over her but Hawkmoth had her staff at the ready, a poor attempt to shield herself.

Menacing feline eyes briefly looked down at the wailing boy whose eyes were tightly shut in fear, the sleek purple staff aiming at high speed towards the blond man's face.

Chat Noir effortlessly grabbed the end of Hawkmoth's cane, fist tightly wrapped around the metal with his normal clawed hand.

The other one, pulsing with destructive power, neared Hawkmoth's face, a breath away from disintegrating her throat. When Chat Noir spoke, it was a threatening hiss that resonated within her very soul. "Tell me why I shouldn't turn you to dust right now, Hawkmoth."

As if realizing her dire situation just now, ice settled in her veins and turned her body to stone. The unsteady step back nearly made her fall if the killing intent reflected in the toxic green eyes glaring at her didn't. "Y-You can't! You're a superhero, don't forget who you are Chat Noir!"

Her staff was ripped from her grip to the side, his other hand coming to wrap around her throat, his activated Chataclysm still surging violently in his other one. "I think you're forgetting who you are and who you're dealing with. You're lucky my lady isn't here, she isn't quite as merciful as I am." Sharp claws pricked her neck and Chat Noir could feel her pulse racing in blatant fear. "You think kidnapping my kitten will get you in my good books? I may be a superhero, but I'm also a parent and you never anger a parent."

The woman struggled in his hold, her feet now cleanly off the floor as her fingers fought to pry the strong arm off holding her captive. "P-P-Please Ch-Cha-Chat Noir-"

A dark grin curled the hero's lips. "You're begging now? You should've thought twice before daring to come near my family." his grip tightened and he felt her thrashing even more until a quiet whimper made his ears stand and his head whip around.

Hugo was sniffling on the ground, voice small and low as he mumbled. "Dad....d-dad....dad...."

As if a spell was broken, Chat Noir's grip loosened and the butterfly Miraculous holder fell unceremoniously to the floor, coughing violently from the harsh grip around her neck.

A warm, familiar hand suddenly rested gently on Hugo's head and a soothing, calm voice entered his ears. "Shhh, it's alright now Hugo, I'm here. Papa's here."

When misty green eyes opened to look up at the familiar equally kind green eyes of his father, Hugo immediately threw himself into his arms, sobbing into his chest uncontrollably. "Dad, you- you- you're f-finally he- he-here." Hugo's small arms were clutching at Chat Noir's shoulders tightly as his father gently rocked him in his arms, soft purrs helping to calm down his distressed son.

He hiccupped a few times, his small body trembling violently in his father's protective grip. Hugo's head was gently pressed against his chest, shielding his gaze away.

Chat Noir turned his head to look down at the woman, reaching pathetically for her cane.

A booted leg firmly slammed down on the metal, toxic green eyes boring into her soul. "Touch my kittens again and the staff won't be the only thing that's broken." the hiss was the final warning she would get before he chose to summon Chataclysm again.

With that, the father walked off, akuma disintegrating back into the lion from the zoo with its collar destroyed by Chataclysm, as the dark butterfly began flying towards the roof slowly.

Chat Noir rubbed soothing circles on his son's back, kissing his forehead affectionately as his wife waited at the entrance, lips pulled into a tense frown.

"Show some mercy, bugaboo."

"Take Hugo home. I'm right behind you." her tone suggested 'mercy' didn't exist in her vocabulary right now, if the furiously spinning yoyo in her hand and her icy glare were any indication.

Chat smirked, bouncing his son gently in his arms, whispering soothingly in his ear to drown out the noises behind him as he vaulted from roof to roof back home.

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

For the next week, there had been no akumas and that was fine by Paris.

The media had praised their heroes for saving the Agreste son, an exclusive, privately filmed meeting showed Chat Noir handing the worried Marinette and Adrien Agreste their child, with Adrien profusely thanking the hero while Marinette kissed his cheek in gratitude.

Marinette smiled at the TV, watching the documented exchange with a chuckle and glancing at Alya. "You know, your illusions really do come in handy from time to time." the doubles she created of her and her husband as civilians were flawless and strikingly true to their personalities.

Alya smiled proudly. "Of course, Rena Rouge is a master illusionist after all." she winked and both women giggled. Alya's expression turned sheepish when she looked at Marinette, who sipped at her coffee. "Girl, just what did you do to her? Hawkmoth didn't attack for like a week and a half."

The glint in her friend's eye told her Hawkmoth wouldn't be attacking for at least another few weeks. "Nothing much. Just politely showed her her boundaries. Kidnapping children isn't a light matter you know."

Alya snorted, taking a big gulp of the dark concoction in her mug. "You're telling me, I would've bashed her head in with Nino's shield had that been my little girl."

Marinette giggled at her friend's tempting suggestion, gazing fondly at her sleeping children after a full day of playing with their father, buried under all of his three kids, his arms curled protectively around them in his sleep. Adrien's sleeping face was peaceful now, squashed by a sleeping Emma and Hugo, with Louis sleeping on his father's chest.

"He's such a dork." Alya followed her friend's line of sight and snorted.

"Yeah, didn't look like a dork when he went on the hunt for Hugo. Even I got scared. Luka said he was tempted to go with him so he didn't destroy the whole city."

Marinette shook her head, smiling. "You're one to talk, fox hero who wants to bash someone's head in with a shield."

Alya wiggled her finger in the air. "Ah, ah, ah. That's taken out of context. I said I would bash in Lila's head, not just anyone's."

Both women chuckled amongst themselves, Plagg and Tikki lost in their own conversation.

"You should've seen him Tikki. I was so proud! He's still too much of a softy though..." Plagg crossed his little arms, while Tikki sighed.

"Plagg, he's still a superhero. Adrien's responsible enough to control himself, even if it is her."

A shiver raced down the cat god's spine, shaking his head. "Ohh no, sugarcube, that last Chataclysm would've went to her face if little kitten hadn't been there crying."

The kwami of creation sighed, settling in next to her lounging partner. "Well, Marinette wasn't much of a softie when she was done with Lila." an identical shiver raced down her own spine and Plagg smiled.

"See? I still think Kittenette is made for the Black Cat Miraculous."

"Oh shut up, stinky sock."

Thanks for reading! Just a silly little piece I made up on the spot. :3 I'm weak for parental Love Square / Dad!Noir fics.

[mellz117]

Nnnnnnngggghhhh it’s part 2 of Mellz plays KH2 on the PS2!

It’s been a while since I got around to working on this part but since we’re all in quarantine I thought I’d catch up on my commentary.

If this is your first time tuning in, why not check out part 1 before reading?? In there you’ll also find links to my commentary of KH1 and Re:CoM on the PS2

On that note, let’s continue shall we?

To recap. We lost some pics, we found some pics, Seifer is a bitch. We did odd jobs and fought bees, we got robbed at stick point. Roxas keeps having dreams that act as exposition dumps for anyone who hasn’t played KH1. Roxas met Namine and he followed her to the mansion but got lost on the way there and wrong warped to the Station of Serenity via sandlot. Oh, we fought this game’s version of the Darkside Heartless but this time it’s a wormy, white Nobody. I really, really hate it! Hayner thinks Roxas loves Seifer more than him because it’s the epitome of “it’s not what it looks like”. Today, we Struggle to rekindle our friendship.

The next morning? Afternoon? EVENING? Nobody knows because it’s always the same time of day from morning until night and from night until morning! The Struggle tournament is about to begin. Tensions still seem on the rise before the preliminaries start, Hayner has very little to say to Roxas at this time. I’m not ready at this point so I decide to delay the fight and talk the townspeople and fight Seifer once again for old time’s sake. Our combatants are relayed the rules and the first round is between Roxas and his best friend, Hayner. Both the boys are a little somber as the countdown starts. Roxas is still feeling guilty about yesterday, but Hayner doesn’t care. He’s not angry at Roxas, he’s been so quiet because he’s so concentrated on the tournament!

Battle ensues.

I win because that’s the only way to progress. Roxas and Hayner make up and be all cute again. The next fight is between Seifer and Vivi.

Rose: “This is like... any person fighting Yoda”

……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..

Seifer got MESSED UP!

His pride after this was so squashed he DROPPED OUT OF THE TOURNAMENT, leaving Hayer in line for 3rd place. Seifer was willing to throw away a place in top 3 because he lost to blue Yoda.

I like how Roxas is ready to fucking pummel Vivi here AFTER time runs out. No mercy.

…oh my gosh it turns out this Vivi was a Dusk Nobody all along who could have seen that coming...?

*gasp* It’s HIM

My favorite bastard!

Axel: “Talk about blank with a capital ‘B’...”

Rose: “Talk about BITCH with a capital ‘B’!”

I love Axel to death in case you haven’t guessed that yet but that doesn’t mean I don’t ever drag him. He moves like a goddamn weasel. He’s as skinny as one too.

I win the fight because I’m the protagonist, and then DiZ shows his pretty face for the first time to our boy. Axel knows who he is? I’m guessing from Castle Oblivion? Unless there’s some Days stuff I’m not remembering. Things get weird again, DiZ and Axel call out Roxas’s name and their voices warp all funky and I remember getting secondhand embarrassment every time I watched this scene when I was younger!

Roxas has a mild freak out and calls out for his friends, poor thing. This seems to make everything normal. What passes for normal around here, sure... and the real Vivi falls face first onto the arena and has no recollection of ever participating. He didn’t. A Dusk just unceremoniously dumps his unconscious body off in the middle of a tournament. We then snag first place, but to add one more rank, as reigning champion, Roxas has to win against this Crispin Freeman motherfucker, obtain a special belt, and bragging rights for a whole-ass year.

My strategy? As long as I have more orbs than my opponent I win so I just hit Setzer once and run around the stage until time’s up. Not that I can’t fairly win against him. Is this the only time we get to fight Setzer? Seems kind of a waste to make a model and moveset if he’s got such a miniscule role.

We actually CAN fail this and still progress but I’m not a quitter. I’m gonna get Roxas that belt. So I did. The Twilight Town gang are once again sitting atop the clock tower, revel in Roxas’s victory, and each kid gets one of the crystals fixed to the trophy. ICE CREAM TIME! But Roxas is an idiot, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree now does it? stands up in like, 2 frames, and slips off the clock tower to his death. Rest in pieces.

This scene ends and we see a young lady walking alone after school. It’s Kairi! This is my favorite version of her. So she and Selphie start talking about Riku, the island they used to go to all the time, and another boy nobody remembers.

IDK how this telepathy works, while Roxas is still falling in slow-motion there’s a three way conversation between him, Kairi, and Sora himself chimes in a bit. Roxas mistakes Kairi for Namine, Kairi corrects him, “you’re that girl he likes” he says, Kairi desperately asks for a name, Roxas tells her HIS OWN name, NO NO you dolt Kairi wants this other guy’s name, see this is how wingmanning works. Sora’s all like “gee thanks for remembering me. I’ll give you a hint”.

Kairi gently pollutes the ocean with a message in a bottle, somehow the bottle heads out towards the great unknown despite the tide coming IN? I would think the bottle would kinda just... float in one spot for a bit? Or at least back to shore.

Next we’re back in the computer room with DiZ and this black clad man, who we finally get to learn is Ansem. But uh... He ain’t tho.

……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..

My least favorite part of Roxas’s part is coming up... OK OK OK so falling from great heights during battle is perfectly safe but falling off the clock tower could kill Roxas? Seems legit.

A’ight Olette is really cracking down on the summer homework and uh. They got no topic for their independent studies yet. This was me during most of my highschool career. Roxas suggests the weird stuff happening around HIM, because the world revolves around him (little does he know...) and Hayner shoots that idea down IMMEDIATELY. Turns out, they’re gonna search the town tomorrow for answers, the whole town’s gonna help out. How sweet!  Roxas’s reaction here is so pure.

Wait so Roxas has been telling his friends about the dreams he’s been having? I would have liked to see that! Like, their reactions to them.

I went to check out the dart board and Rose starts laughing and says she read “examine” like how Namine is pronounced. Anyway, what is the gnag gonna study? The Seven Wonders of Twilight Town. *yaawwn*

……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..……..

Oof, another example of “couldn’t care less” being misspoken as “could care less”. If you COULD care less that implies you already DO care. IT’S “COULDN’T CARE LESS”, RAIJIIN!!!

*fights Seifer one last time for good measure*

“The time has come! Our hunt for the Seven Wonders begins!” Pence is such a dork. I love him.

KNOW WHAT WOULD BE AN INTERESTING WONDER? IF THESE STAIRS ACTUALLY DID COUNT DIFFERENTLY UP AND DOWN BUT NO RAIJIIN IS JUST A DUNCE!

The Wall. These legitimate answers are lame as hell. Oh someone must have been throwing a ball oh but we know the truth.

The next “mystery” are voices in the access tunnels. It’s Vivi! But no, it’s probably not considering our track record. Now there’s 3. OH NO THEY KEEP MULTIPLYING! The real Vivi arrives and lets Roxas borrow his struggle bat so he can practice fighting by himself but oh wait... That was also a Dusk. These guys just... really don’t know when to quit. Aaaand this is where we stop for now. My capture card stopped recording. Or maybe it was just my imagination. Yes that’s right. I’m recoding this with COMMENTARY! I’m putting all my favorite parts into a compilation. Hopefully I’ll get those up on my channel soon.

Ta-ta for now! The sooner I finish this game the sooner I can move on to the remasters on PS4!

[PREVIOUS]

[NEXT]

[finderskeepersff]

48. Part 6

A small smile played on my lips, thinking back to when Sofia would watch this show and then call me Ghost, I mean the guy had two women. I ain’t have that, this Power show is good but it doesn’t really show you how depressing shit can be, I think I feel for Ghost. The nigga is trying to do good but he can never be that and I can never be that, shaking my head lightly. Bryce fell asleep on me, my mom said he is not feeling well and I can tell he ain’t because he is quiet and he just crawled onto my lap and fell asleep. It’s sad to see him like that, I am used to the hyper Bryce. Looking back at the TV, I miss watching TV with Sofia. I would annoy her life though, she would love watching TV. I guess I took them cute moments for granted “you not seeing Sofia today? I mean Cartier” my mom is trying to be funny “no, she is spending time with her brother and friends, I am not on the list but I did have her last night. I can’t be selfish right?” my mom just smiled at me, I am glad we got to talk. We spent time together I guess so I can’t see her again today, that is just looking clingy. We spoke on it and I have hurt Sofia a lot which does upset me, I have scarred her but we will be good I think anyways “you’re learning, well that is fine” my mom walked off, seeing my dad pop out of nowhere with flowers “did you cheat?” my mom said to him “woman, you know I ain’t cheat. This is for you, it is your day. Stop cleaning” what is he doing, frowning at him “oh it’s just another day Carnell but thank you, my favourite flowers too. Too kind” pulling a face at my parents kissing, I gagged actually “to the best mom on earth, I love you so much” Jasmine jumped at my mom with a bag in hand “aww you all remembered” I am confused, is it mom’ birthday, oh my god. It must be her birthday, I am sure it ain’t her birthday.

I am so confused at this, I must have forgotten my mom’ birthday “is it mom’ birthday?” I asked Jasmine as she walked into the living room “uh yes” rubbing my forehead groaning out “fuck” I said “I am joking, it’s mother’ day” moving my hand back looking up at Jasmine “oh, but I still didn’t know?” Jasmine laughed “I know you did so that is why I put your name in the card and also the gift” letting out an oh “thank you, why wasn’t I aware? Maybe I am selfish” where have I been that I didn’t know this “it’s you, you always forget Cassius. You have too much going on so it is what it is, I think mom is just happy you’re around” I am so useless, how can you forget mother’ day “so I am guessing you got Sofia nothing?” Jasmine giggled “oh shit, yes. I mean no, oh my god. I did nothing” I have done nothing and I have said nothing to her about it ”it’s never too late Cassius, you can do something. Stores are open still” shaking my head in disbelief “why wasn’t I told this? Shouldn’t there be like banners and shit around?” Jasmine keeps laughing at me “if like you pay attention to something like that, you need to get out more in the mornings and pay attention. I can come with you and help you, I like shopping” she is right, she can help me.

I do feel bad about my own mom, I forgot today. It just went above my head “mom” knocking on her bedroom door “come in Cassius” hearing my mom say, pushing the door open wider “I just wanted to say I am sorry, I forgot today was mothers day. I feel like a bad son” looking around my mom’ room, she has a lot of pictures in this room. My eyes laid on my school picture, no teeth having ass nigga “I remember when you was having your school pictures and I goes my sweet child has no front teeth, your father told me to not buy them but I of course I did. I love it, so sweet and innocent you was. I love having pictures of my kids, I just need to develop the ones of Cartier and don’t worry about it. I am happy my son is happy and breathing, every year is a blessing to me. My kids are ok, I mean I know Jordan is where he is but at least I know he is not out there being something he is not” looking away from my school picture, my mom is stood right in front of me “I was happy as shit there” I do look so happy there “you have always been a happy kid Cassius, but don’t feel bad. I don’t feel upset about it, I am happy. Also I am guessing you didn’t get Sofia anything?” shaking my head “predictable, I guess she probably thought the same thing” I laughed nervously “well that is me, but I am going with Jasmine. She is helping me out” opening my arms out to my mom “I love you so much Cassius, my baby boy” my mom hugged me back tightly “I love you too mom” she puts up with me anyways.

Snatching my gun off Jasmine “what is wrong with you? This is why you don’t ever sit in my car” placing my gun back in the compartment “well I am nosey, acting like I haven’t held one before. I think they are cute, get me a pink gun” looking back on the road “a pink gun? Sure, I will make sure it shoots out water” Jasmine can be such a pest “so anyways, what we thinking? What do you want to get Sofia?” I shrugged “that helps, what does she like?” she is asking too many questions “my dick” I spat “that is free nigga, nobody want that anyways. So next” I sniggered “she likes bags, heels actually. But I know she likes her bags. Probably a bag? Yes a bag” I will stick with that “cool so bag, you want to get back with Sofia?” that is a stupid question to ask “well yes I do” she knows that “so you need to make it cute, heartfelt cute. Something you lack, I mean it will be ok because you got her a push gift which she then will not expect so much because she got a push gift” looking over at Jasmine “what shit are you speaking about Jasmine? You make no sense? Who is pushing?” staring at her dumbfounded “oh wait, you never got her a push gift? You joking me?” I am so confused “I don’t know what it is so why would I” looking back on the road “oh boy, after the birth she had. It’s a gift to give the mother of your child, she near died and you didn’t? Oh boy, you better ask for the most expensive bag, Cassius you are so slow!” I don’t know what they expect from me, if like I know this shit.

Walking behind my sister into the Prada store, I am letting her do what she needs. I am useless to be fair, I don’t know what I am doing with myself anymore “so you can speak” Jasmine said to me, the store assistant is right there why can’t she just ask “how can I help?” the lady said “I need the most expensive bag here, that is it” she looked at me like I was crazy, I know she is. She laughed “really?” nodding my head “well I think I have done bad, I forgot that it was mothers day and yeah” she nodded her head “I can show you the most expensive but then you’re not really picking from the heart, so how about we both look together” I guess this is my punishment “I didn’t think you did bad, I just was shocked you didn’t get her that. I am shocked she wasn’t angry about it, she lets you off. It’s ok Cassius, we can get it her this way. She will love you, I mean she does not but it would have been nice if you used your brain” I don’t really think about things like this, I need to do better and keep these events in a calendar or something.

“He is so adorable Sofia, like I cannot stop! I want him, his fat little face” Olivia is harassing my poor son “you are beautiful, imagine when you are older. A heart breaker at his finest. You make some beautiful babies Sofia, why don’t you let him be a model baby?” is she crazy “I will pass on that” watching Olivia rest Cartier back down in her arms, grumpy ass is two months now and I know he is wondering where the hell am I, why am I seeing these random people “you took your time” I said to Leyton “I know, Sofia. I am going to Barbados” he sat next to me “You are? Why?” I ain’t stopping him, if he wants to see mom he can “mom said she wants to see me, I thought I would see her. I will be back” this is his own choice “ok” what else can I say really “I showed mom Cartier” frowning at him “why would you do that? She has nothing to do with me, equally you if you don’t quit that shit” she has no right to see my son “she asked, I told her. She goes did Sofia have her baby, I said yes it’s a boy called Cartier, she lives good and I showed her” looking away from Leyton and at Mia, she just eyeballed me “she said nothing nice I guess, you ain’t saying it clearly” he isn’t really, he is all quiet now “no” Leyton said in a whisper “just do not tell her anything about me ok? She is not for me and never will be but tell me what she said?” I would like to know now “he looks like that family and I said who, Cassius? And she goes no, not really she probably cheated. I said mom that is wrong, Sofia I do hate mom for being that way with you but she is still mom” rolling my eyes “to you, don’t ever tell her anything again or I will cut you off” he is so dumb.

I am glad to have got rid of Leyton, he just annoys me with the teenage stage of his life, being cheeky and then telling my mom about me and my child, fuck that shit. She doesn’t need to know anything “you was so angry, I was surprised you didn’t slap him?” Olivia said “I was close, I am glad he is gone” smiling at Cartier, he is sucking on his hand “is he hungry?” Olivia asked, shaking my head “no, he just had a feed. He has learnt to do that, I find it adorable because he be in his own world just doing that” Mia cooed out “he is so cute, make more babies” my eyes bulged out “more babies, I think not. I took plan b so quick. I leaped out of bed and went to get them. I am not risking that shit, it’s not even funny either” Mia snorted laughing “what the fuck happened? So you both had sex?” Olivia said “I told Mia most of it but yeah we did, it was good. I mean it was good to have sex, I did want it but I was shying away from it, just the simple fact I was angry with him. The sex was so deep, I cried” placing my hands over my mouth as they both gasped in shock “no fucking way? You didn’t say!” Mia said ever so loud “ssshhhh” Olivia said, we are in a coffee shop and she is screaming “well it happened, I couldn’t stop myself either. The emotions built up, it wasn’t just sex. He was making love to me and it was just so much emotion to it, you know” Mia touched my hand “don’t” she is going to get me emotional again.

“Are you ok?” Olivia asked me as I sat down, I went to the bathroom “I am, you can put him in the stroller since he has fallen asleep” my chubby little man was done listening to us “it’s ok, I love him here but that is so deep, like I am shook. I have seen love, I mean the word love is thrown everywhere now but this is like soul mate level don’t you think?” Olivia said looking at Mia “I love Mitch but I wouldn’t cry,maybe that is me. I do think the love you both have is deep and I am glad you both got that time alone, you needed it. Did you speak to him at all? Was it all sex?” I chuckled “we did yes, he said he can’t fix the past but he can only make it up to me in the future, he is accepting of his behaviour. It was nice girls, I felt good about me. I have gained weight, I know my body, I know I have gained and for me to just walk out of the bathroom and he was like wow, he taken a back and to get that reaction from him, it was good and for him to want me like he did, for him to love me like he did in bed. I felt it, and I did cry but yeah, we are taking it as it is, for now” I smiled “y’all cute, I think maybe you both need to continue to let it proceed slowly, I am glad I pushed you! Imagine if you didn’t, he needed to knock those cobwebs out anyways” he did that alright without a doubt.

Hugging Olivia “it is always so good to see you both, I love you both so much. I am sad that I am going tomorrow but I will come back, you know me” Olivia squeezed me a little “it’s ok girl we will be right over in Atlanta soon, it’s been a good time with you here” moving back from the hug “my little Cartier, I will miss you” Olivia went over to the stroller “thank you for dropping me back here too” holding my arms out to Mia “oh girl come here, I love you so much” hugging her close “I love you too girl, thank you for always advising me, I need it at times” I do, because I be making dumb mistakes “I think you just close down when you get hurt but I understand but I know he loves you, do what you need to do ok? He is there now” I grinned, she is right because he is around. I sighed out moving back from the hug “when I see him my ovaries just be flipping out, I do at times be like I want one but no. Least he is asleep but take care the both of you and we will see you both soon, call us when when you get back babe” Mia walked over to the stroller, Cartier is getting all the love when asleep, he got a lot of love from his aunties.

Swiping the keycard and pushing open the door, turning my back towards the door so I shimmied inside with the stroller. I am going to start packing things so I can do less in the morning, pulling the stroller in with my one hand and holding the door with the other, heavy ass door. I am actually glad he is asleep, it gives me time to go toilet before he needs a feed “I will leave you in this stroller actually” turning to the door and putting the latch on, you never know what weirdos are here and there. Turning back around I gasped seeing balloons scattered around my room, staring all wide eyed, staring at the balloons “hello?” I said, who the hell. Walking ever so slowly, reaching out for one of the balloons and dragging it down “Mothers Day” I read out the balloon, my smile grew looking up at the balloons “what” I said to myself, I mean I know it was mothers day but it’s Cassius, he barely remembers to do something. Walking into my room seeing three Prada shopping bags, letting the balloon go as I walked towards the bed. Taking a peak in the bag but the card, I want to see this more. Taking the card from the bed, opening the envelope and pulling the card out “happy mothers day to the most amazing mom” I read out the front of the car, I cooed out. That is so cute, opening the card. This is Cassius handwriting he actually made the effort “To my baby mother Sofia, happy mothers day to the best mother out there. I couldn’t have asked for a better person to be the mother of my child, I know he will be loved forever and taken care of, Cartier is lucky to have you. And for that you can go and flex out with the new bags from Cartier and I, love from Cartier and I” my smile grew, feeling tears fill my eyes, I didn’t expect this at all and for him to think about this. A knock on the hotel room door, saved by the knock because I was about to cry.

Dragging open the door, I soon regretted it because nobody was here and that is creepy. Poking my head out of the door looking down the lobby and then turned my head to look at the other side “happy mothers day” was screamed out, I yelped “the fuck!” I spat staring at Cassius “my bad, I didn’t mean to scare you, I just kind of wanted to surprise you but I didn’t think you was here yet. Wheezy knocked and then he was like oh shit you are here. But hey” placing my hand over my chest, he got me shook “it’s ok, thank you” I feel a little shy now, walking back into the room “come in” he did scare me, he was hiding at the side and I couldn’t see him “well surprise, you like it?” watching him walk into the room “I love it, like I am shocked. How did you get into my room?” letting the door close “I told them that I left the key with you, they think you’re my wife now” of course he did that “I wanted to also drop these off to you” he held out a black round box “what is it?” taking the box from him, opening the box “awww roses, Cassius. You didn’t have to you know” I want to cry “well it’s your first mothers day and I wanted to make sure you felt special, ok it’s me. You can imagine I did forget” I had to laugh because that is him “I don’t expect anything less from you Cassius, I am just really shocked, you made the effort and that is the point” walking towards him, I tiptoed up wrapping my arm around his neck “thank you” he has really made my day, I don’t care if he forgot initially.

Watching Cassius place a balloon near Cartier, he is just staring at it like it’s crazy “did you look at your bags?” Cassius asked, shaking my head “I was more excited to see the card, cards are special but I know the bags will be nice. Thank you, I hope you didn’t go crazy” Cartier is trying to touch the balloon with his balled up fist “I uhm, I got told off because I didn’t get you a push gift. I don’t know what it was, I didn’t know it existed till now, Jasmine said it and I was like what? If I did I would buy you something, you know me money is nothing. You mean more, I felt bad. Actually my whole day was me feeling bad about shit but yeah so I got you extra things, I didn’t get you the push gift” I cooed out “I didn’t expect it, I mean I was in pain and everything was so horrible that I never thought of it but don’t feel bad, thank you” I can’t stop smiling, sitting next to Cassius on the bed. Tapping on my camera and turning the camera to us, holding my phone out. Taking the photo anyways even though Cassius is busy with the damn balloon “look” touching his hand with my free hand “where?” he said, still oblivious “oh” he looked at the camera, he turned his face to look at me “I don’t like pictures” he is a damn liar “so what is your insta about then?” he is such a liar, he snorted laughing letting the balloon go so I can now include Cartier “do I have to smile?” he is already annoying “think about my pussy” I said to him which made him laugh and I just took it “I knew it” bringing my phone to me “what?” looking down at the picture “see, the picture turned out cute. You’re laughing but looking at me, I took that” posting the picture but not before putting a caption on there ‘My first mothers day couldn’t have gone better with my men, I love you both’ pressing send “I make an appearance on your Insta, I am honoured” locking my phone “and so you should” I am so damn happy right now.

“I think what we need to understand here Cartier is that you are the boy, you are the don. There ain’t no nigga like you, I mean come on. I am your dad, and I run shit so that means you run shit. Just because we light skinned people underestimate us and honestly, it’s dumb because I mean I can get niggas gone just like that. You the mack daddy, I am the mack so you the mack” looking away from Cartier and looking ahead of me “you think momma will give me the P again, you think she will?” I said in a whisper, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Cartier’ balled up fist “I get it, I know you want to punch me. I will not say it again” looking behind me, where has she gone, she went to the bathroom and never came back. I am laid out on the bed on my stomach with Cartier “one time, when you older. A little I am going take you with me on the streets, just to show you to my friends, show them the next don. I kid, I got you. You don’t need to worry about shit for life now” Cartier is so content with me and I love it, maybe it’s because I talk too much “you on my bed with clothes on” Robyn said, looking behind me “erm yeah, we got bored” watching Sofia walk around the bed in just a long tee, I can see her boobs through it “well I think you need to get up and let him sleep, also me. We got a long day ahead of us tomorrow, well Cartier and I” shuffling back on the bed as I got up “take the jet, I am going back on the jet. It will be better for you” pulling my top down “but I got tickets for the flight back” I shrugged “who cares, I think to save time I stay here” I am trying “or maybe you can go” Sofia waved me off “can I get a hug, least a hug? I be out there, anything can happen” Sofia shook her head at me “why don’t you just go back to your mom’ home? It’s not hard” pouting my lips out “aight fine, I will go then” turning around to go “I will hug you, come here” she is so kind to me “really?” I grinned, Sofia side eyed me “be quiet” wrapping my arms around Sofia “you smell so good” Sofia sniffed me “You could smell that all night?” I will try again “bye Cassius” Sofia pushed at my chest as she walked away from me.

Watching my Range Rover park up in front of me, walking towards the car and dragging open the door “boss” Ethan said, getting into the car “what’s good? Take me to the warehouse” closing the door “cool, you said you wanted the jet for tomorrow?” nodding my head “I do, Raphael sorted it out for me?” I can only use his but I want my own, I am getting my own but putting it under Raphael, it looks like it’s his but it’s mine. I wish I wasn’t watched because honestly I deserve to live lavish “yes he has, I mean he said he has pulled through. I mean we have been in talks of it, we will see tomorrow. You know what is amazing, how much money you are making and yet you still humble. I would have been bought a jet” I shrugged “I need to wait till the heat dies down then I can do what I like, I want the finer things. I mean that is the whole reason I did it but it means nothing when you have nobody to spend it with and I do now. You think opening up in Miami is too much? That means our product will be getting further, I ain’t fuck with Miami so I don’t know” rubbing my chin “then we need to get to know, I know famous drug dealers. You know when you can live lavish, with you knowing Raphael they will assume you made connections. I know they always on your ass, but with the money going through the right ways maybe you can come out of your shell more and be who you want to be” I guess but I don’t want to be famous, I just want to be me without being followed.

Walking over to the table and seeing the product, I didn’t know how I would feel about it but it’s not making want it anyways, touching the tip of my finger in the white powder “it’s pure” Ethan said, the worker just stared at me “what?” I said to him “nothing, I just think I am doing it wrong?” licking the white power off of my finger, that is pure “you’re not, continue. We don’t deal in that fake shit” looking around me as we walked off “we hire women now?” when I was around, well Lamar he didn’t have women here “don’t fuck with these girls now Cassius, they always strapped” Ethan rested his arm on her shoulder, and then his other hand reached behind her “ain’t we?” she just smiled “machine gun?” I said “somebody going to get laid the fuck out if they try me and my money, I mean besides you” I laughed “I like it, you got bigger balls than some of these niggas here” she is a bad ass “is it true what they say about you, I have never seen you before. I have heard stories about you, you become a boss so young, you give back to the community. You put families in homes?” nodding my head “possibly” not really answering her question “you kill without a care?” I pointed at her smiling “now you right about that” walking off, that is some good drug. The taste is in my mouth still.

I don’t really come here at all “so this is your office now? Your new office” sitting in Ethan’ seat “well it’s yours boss” Ethan laughed “is it though? What if I wanted to give it to you?” he shook his head “this doesn’t run without you Cassius, it’s not my name people are scared of. I don’t want it, if you want to quit then I will too but it runs well with you. Who the hell can get the fucking Latino’s, black and Mexicans to get along, well it was forced but we in peace. Once you done then shit will be everywhere” Ethan doesn’t want it “but you are the guy I am wanting to give it too, you can’t be real right now?” I think he is being deadass “I am not taking it on, I refuse. Who the fuck is going to listen to me? They listen to me because of you, I ain’t doing that Cassius but thank you of thinking about me” I groaned out laughing “y’all making life hard for me, I get it. I like the loyalty” that is good of him “didn’t think I would have anyone as loyal as Lamar, I miss him but least I know now” I got to come up with something else.

[campdnp]

Tightrope

Tent: Hawaii Summary: “Do you trust me?” / “I do.” Triggers: N/A Genre: Horror Word Count: 1,735

Circus music swayed in the breeze, moving dead leaves as it went. This music call was similar to that of an ice cream truck, but it was much bigger and relatively immobile. As soon as the sun came up, one by one, children dragged their parents to the carnival; and as the sun kept rising, more and more people filed in, especially when the sun began to set.

Even with the big red and yellow tent in the center closed until nightfall, the acrobats and off-duty clowns and off-display animals all went inside and practiced until their joints hurt, especially Hawaii. After she was dropped off by her parents, the acrobats welcomed her contortionist abilities that had gotten her abandoned. However, this was her first show with a new routine, and she was quite nervous as she put on loads of stage makeup hours before the tent opened its door. Bornea the Foreign laughed and waved their way out of the room. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

“Doll, are you crying,” Maui, another acrobat and one of Hawaii’s lovers, asked.

Hawaii quickly wiped away her tear and covered the trail the best she could. “No. I’m just a bit nervous, that’s all.” But, since somebody noticed, more tears replaced it.

Maui moved quickly, standing in front of Hawaii and putting a hand onto the back of her neck. She pulled her hair out of the tight bun, letting the white locks fall. Maui then took a handkerchief from the table and messily wiped all the makeup off of the crying party’s face.

Hawaii sniffed. “Let it out love, you can cry now.” Hawaii took Maui’s advice and did just that, leaning down onto the other party’s shoulder and wrapping her arms around her neck.

They sat together, on the dirt floor, as Maui rubbed all the tears out of Hawaii. Fiji, a new recruit that ran here for cover instead of facing conversion therapy to erase the “transvestite” in her and Hawaii’s second lover, and biggest rival, walked in to this crying session.

“Being a little cry baby, Honolulu.” Fiji softly said, leaning down to join Maui in comforting the poor child.

For 10 minutes, Hawaii’s cries turned into sniffs until they eventually stopped. This is when Maui jumped into action.

“How are you feeling, cry baby?” Fiji asked while rubbing her, earning a soft chuckle out of the red-eyed girl.

“I’d be feeling a lot better if you tripped over that crate and broke your nose, cancelled stamp.” Hawaii replied, and both Maui and Fiji let a deep breath escape their lungs.

Maui, picked up a cup of coffee and dropped a pill from her bag in it. “Do you trust me?”

Hawaii looked at her through wet eyelashes as she wiped her face and got ready to apply more makeup. “I do.”

“Then drink this.” Maui hands Hawaii a cup. “It’ll help you feel better.” So, as any loyal lover would do, she drank it.

Both Maui and Fiji helped Hawaii do her makeup, as the show was to start soon. Nobody wanted to make the Ringmaster angry, as he was the boss of the show.

“Are you ready for the show, Hawaii?” Logan the Ossified burped, slapping Hawaii on the back.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” She smiled nervously. “Don’t take any wooden nickels out there, Logan.”

“I thought that was my job,” He joked, bidding Hawaii farewell as he left with Fiji.

“I hope you break both of your legs, Fiji.” Hawaii called to them, hearing a slight chuckle in the distance before the audience erupted in laughter.

Maui kissed Hawaii on the back of the ear. “I better follow them, have fun without me, doll.”

Hawaii turned and kissed Maui on the lips. “You’ll do great out there.”

“I always do,” she winks, leaving.

A little girl named Lawanya walked through the dressing room as Maui walked out. She looked like she had a mission, and she proceeded to go towards where the animals were held. Concerned, Hawaii followed her.

“Little girl?” Hawaii called out, trying to catch up to the fast-paced toddler.

“Kitty, kitty, kitty,” the little girl purred, reaching up to pet the tiger.

“Little girl,” Hawaii grabbed her hand and pulled it away from the bars of the cage. “Where’s your mother?”

“Believe in Him.” The little girl giggled, running off before Hawaii could catch her.

Oahu the Short walked in from where the little girl ran out. “Did you see where that girl went?”

Oahu raised an eyebrow, “what little girl?”

“Nevermind,” Hawaii shook her head, returning to the dressing room to finish putting on her costume.

On her way back she accidentally bumped into The Great V, and she apologized quickly before continuing on her way. V’s teeth seemed a little bit more wooden than they did yesterday.

“Do you need help?” Diva the Clown asked, and Hawaii nodded. Diva took the strings of her corset into their hands, pulling tightly.

“That’s a little tight.” Hawaii gasped.

“The strings are never too tight.” Diva replied, pulling the corset a little bit tighter before tying it off. Then Diva, without a word, left.

Hawaii needed to go to the bathroom, but since she was new, she didn’t know where the buckets were. She walked around what seemed to be aimlessly until she bumped into Bora the Boring.

“What are you looking for?” They said, and Hawaii did a quick little bathroom dance.

“Do you know where the restroom is?” Hawaii asked.

“Down five rooms on the right,” they pointed down the hallway to the left, the direction that Hawaii was already going. She thanked him and basically ran down the hallway and into the bucket room.

She undid the bottom of her bodysuit corset and used the bucket, a distant laughter and clapping filling the room with noise. However, as she finished and put her clothes back on, a ringing filled that silence instead.

Hawaii ignored it, walking out into the hallway once again, but then she tripped and rolled into the closest room on the right.

The ringing got louder and louder, to the point that Hawaii was forced to cover her ears. Her teeth began to hurt and her heart felt like it would burst. It was rather unpleasant, I suppose.

Then, just as quickly as it had started, it stopped, but now her head hurt and her nose began to bleed. She feared getting up and looking for anybody, as she should. It was all part of The Ringmaster’s plan.

When she looked up from her spot, she observed that the room was lined with dolls, some old and some new, that looked like people that worked in the circus. Hawaii took a deep breath in and held it, trying to move past the dust.

Interprète, the Ringmaster’s favorite puppet, sat on a stool facing her. It was one of the undusted ones, but the other ones were laid out on the Ringmaster’s makeup table. It was everyone, besides the Ringmaster, that she had come in contact with that day. She saw that there were two spots empty but unaccounted for, and turned to the door as her lovers walked in.

“Do you believe in the Ringmaster’s vision?” Fiji and Maui said to Hawaii at the same time, taking a step closer to her. The were not in control of their actions, and if everything worked according to plan, they wouldn’t remember this moment, either.

“In the Ringmaster’s what?” Hawaii took a step back, her hand touching the wall of the tent. The fabric was worn, but not torn. “Are you okay? Is this a joke? Are you half-seas over?”

“Do you believe,” a fire emitted from the performance outside, “in the Ringmaster’s vision?”

“What is his vision?” Hawaii attempted to ask. The puppets moved.

“To do what is best for us.” Maui’s mouth moved, but the words came out static and a bit off. “He only wants what’s best for us. Don’t you understand, Hawaii?”

“You’re not my Maui. Who are you?” Hawaii’s back hit the side of the tent; laughter emitted from the audience. “I’m scared, please. This isn’t funny.”

“Nothing ever is.” Fiji’s voice is too deep and monotone, but it always was hard to replicate. “Especially not The Ringmaster’s vision for us. He loves us.”

“Please stop,” Hawaii sobbed, her voice cracking. “I’m scared.”

“The Ringmaster is the only one who can stop us,” Maui’s head twisted oddly before snapping back into place, her feet floated off the ground. “Do you believe in his vision?”

“I mean, I guess. I don’t know him very well though–” Hawaii screamed as Fiji’s head fell off, revealing a string. I put the head back on, backwards at first, but then I twisted it back around to face the new recruit. “Please.” She begged, covering her mouth. The people in the audience laughed.

“Go onto the tightrope and jump off of it. Believe in the ringmaster. He will always catch you.” Maui’s breath smelled of mine as she leaned into Hawaii. “He only wants what’s best for us.”

“Okay,” Hawaii was shaking, holding back sobs as Fiji and Maui left the room.

The audience cheered as I got up onto the stage, a puppet of Hawaii in my hand.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, allow me to introduce you to Hawaii the Elastic.” The crowd cheered as Hawaii walked out, her eyes red but a forced smile on her face. She was pale, and only got paler when she saw The Ringmaster standing there. “Be kind to this bearcat, this is her first show.” The audience cheered again; The Ringmaster turned the other way as Hawaii climbed the ladder to the rope. She shook violently, but climbed nonetheless.

It was silent and hot at the top as she began walking across the rope, no net below to catch her. Each step was an eternity, but it was even longer as she stood out in the middle.

“Trust The Ringmaster,” the toddler Lawanya floated into Hawaii’s vision. “He Loves Us.”

“Jump,” The Great V’s head whispered next to Hawaii’s right ear. “The Ringmaster Will Catch You.”

Hawaii screamed as a headless Fiji appeared, and she fell in her fear. But I caught her.

I love my interprète too much to kill them; I only want what’s best.

[sole-cuore-amore-e-droga]

Tel Aviv 2019: Straight outta Spain to Eurovision with whole lotta fun

Dare I say Operación Triunfo is a little bit of... a Choice?

I mean, you got yourself a format that a bunch of young-aged/teen/late-teen aged droolies follow for the drama more than the music, at least that’s what I suppose it is because it’s one of those singing reality shows where you’re oh so very welcome to follow the lives of all the 20-somethings that were unfortunate to sign the contract of the show, not being able to read all the fine-prints in the contract and later regretting not doing so because things like Eurovision. In Israel. But more on that later.

But this is Espain, and this is the sad state of television that is today - if they like your shitty talent show with 24/7 followship of the contestants, and if they watch that, and if they eat that with a spoonful, chances are you’re going to prolong its post-mortem revival state in order to maaaaaybe attract a new audience and acquire a new shippable couple people will vote “a Eurovisión”. Even if your last couple sucked. And even managed to break up unceremoniously sometime before the 2019 show’s Eurovision final <3 god bless them for finally breaking the chain and breaking the hearts of thousands who were ‘dying’ for the ship. It was never EVER meant to last.

So is it a no surprise that Operación went thriving for another year? Certaintly at least it’s no joy to bear with another amount of subpar desperates from every other corner of Spain, but only because Spain deserves a better NF format. I mean, with these other NF formats we can at least have a variety of artists with their own (or composed by others) songs, and it doesn’t matter an inch whether the public’s big fave gets rigged out to me - as long as it’s just a NF I can get easily over with, it’s all fine to me! And of course OT is also fine for me, it’s just that people are begging for it to get axed for some reason. Maybe because of all the ships?

I don’t want to put too much more thought of what happened in the reality show other than the Eurovision Gala, BUT I seemed to notice something rather crazy. You see, at first we had Natalia (or was it Alba Reche or Sabela even?) heavily speculated as the winner pre-show, but in the end the OT glory was all handed to some Dutch-born boy of Nigerian origin named... Famous. Not shitting you, it is his name. But what’s the saddest part about this? Famous CLEARLY wanted it all to himself just because of Eurovision being included in the contract. Yet his only victory in life is being the best among the rest of these stars that were watched over 24/7. Unfortunately, Mr. Oberogo couldn’t make this out to be in his favour in the Eurovision-special gala, to which the “triunfitos” can attend if they have songs chosen for them in the lineup, and yes he was admitted, but then he was given a SUCH DISAPPOINTING SONG EHMERGERD!!!!!!!! :’(

(lol calm yer ladyhormones, “No puedo mas” wasn’t THAT bad, it’s just that given Famous did songs like “Nobody but You” (yes THAT one) on the show, you’d expect something contemporary soulful, not just blatant radio filler that could have easily been an EYD reject?)

So how did it all happen that the girls were rooted for to win OT, but in the end the one that wanted Eurovision the most won? And how come the one that wanted the Eurovision the most was given a song that paled in comparison to that one song that was performed by someone who was blatantly against going to ESC because “nuuuuu Israel stop hurting Palestine” and that one being favoured to win? AND HOW COME ONE OF THE BIGGEST SHOW’S VILLAINS GOT HANDED ABSOLUTE SLAYAGE OF THE SONGS?? Honestly it’s for the best if Spain is just there to subdue everyone’s expectations, just like they did when choosing Manel (be it because of a corrupt juror or whatever). They did it every single turn of the time this year during OT’s run.

And of course I’ll forever love them for that, as the end result was AN ABSOLUTE FUCKING FIESTA BANGER. Courtesy of Miki (Núñez).

Ngl, the first thing I went in for about “La venda” before listening to it was through this first impression tweet on Miki’s ‘eliminated’ song from the selection, “El equilibrio”:

BITCH HOW WAS SHE NOT READY TO SEE THAT COMING AT HER.

Granted, the sudden start of happy sounds rushing right at me was a little startling, but I was able to cope with it and jam to the song in the end.

I completely adore this one, it’s so powerfully joyful with all its instruments and the Spanish language, the interesting turn of events in lyrics, the incredibly easy probability to sing along to this (LO QUE EEEEERE! LO QUE ERE ERE E!), the authenticity, the cultural roots (tbqh Eurovision countries should be welcome to embrace their culture rather than stray further away from it! also this is why more native languages other than English are encouraged)... mmm-mmm.

And like I said, for some reason Miki was seen as a grand villain to the show, and even if I didn’t follow OT all that much, I was constantly questioning why, and after seeing him eliminated I only wanted to know if people in Espain were rejoicing about it. The against-agenda turned up onto him again when he happened to have the most songs in the internet selection bunch handed to him (THREE!!! Two solo tracks and a duet.), but nothing there was to worry, as instead other favourites were discovered, therefore Miki ended up in the dust for a while. Up until something happened that got him a big surge of votes at the end. Go figure.

Despite all this, I think it’s the right direction for Spain songwise! Me gusta mucho, and not only personally, but also objectively, honestly. Miki’s got a right enough good song for the nation and provided the revamp doesn’t make it crash and burn (yes, the good friend of a Eurovision song - the revamp! It’s happening), it’s safe to say that Spain can stand a chance. Not win, for now, but stand a chance. Yes.

Before I repeat myself some more I’d probably have to add this part for no reason as it came from my Twitter review for “La venda” this time, as I heard songs 1 day before the NF as when I expected the NF to go on Saturday but it was on a Sunday:

BITCH HOW WAS I WRONG. Well mostly thanks to the fact the fanwank-ess of OT ESC Gala actively asked to direct her votes to Miki’s song (Monika Marija teas amirite), but still, WRONG!

Now that I finally composed my thoughts I guess, let’s all go and read the below verdict I’m putting this up for:

Approval factor: I’m giving this a big fat SÍ!

Follow-up factor: Of course I like it way better than “Tu canciYAWN”, there’s no doubt in it :) and after Almaia’s romance advertisement they’re doing a great job by coming back to their great Spanish roots of music, honestly. And it’s better that way than forcing a ship onto a Eurovision 2018 ship, so yeah

Big 5 factor: As of this time Spain lowkey fizzled out with everyone now that a big wave of other faves arised, BUT I don’t think that Spain’s drowning in misery this year, not at all! With right kind of energy of the staging and uplift Spain can totally woo them televoters this time around, making them “lo que ere” their worries away to the sunset. And this is a positive thing - as if juries decide to drown this sometimes and televoters don’t, it will still soar somewhere up high enough in top 15.

NATIONAL FINAL BONUS

Now, I don’t quite think this year’s OT was quite as memetic as I expected, but we still have had some pre-NF gems, just like this:

• “THEN POLKA”. That one moment was also brought up to her on her OT Eurovision Gala postcard.

• and this one contestant’s gloriously accidental butt-shot

Though we did have a handful of these kind of moments on the Gala itself (and surrounding it), such as:

• NF’s biggest favourite to win songwise not even trying. Yes, there are those NF winners which underperform but only because they don’t seem to know better, but did you know that there are THOSE like María Villar who decide against it? Basically, she was one of those opposing against the situation in Israel with Palestine, so out of protest towards all this, she voluntarily went against doing Eurovision in a nation like this by encouraging her fans to vote for Miki the night before and sacrificing any slightest grains of trying with her performance - by barely dancing on stage and not outselling anything vocally. And it worked to some extent, as she came SECOND only, and shortly after Miki won, she spoke out loud that she was satisfied to not have become the victor (I mean she just thanked everyone for not voting her to ESC lol). But you know what, for situations like these I really do love ESC NFs - where everything predictable is upturned by some sort of events like these. I mean, I like "Muérdeme", it’s catchy, Latino-appealing enough (for those whores thirsty for Luis Fonsi and similar fucks who sing in Spanish on English songs these days), has a cool breakdown and what not, but it would just probably bring back another disappointing result from Eurovision much to fans’ dismay, especially if the Tel Aviv (oh wait sorry... for Maria’s case this would have probably been Limassol or Vienna) edition was to bring many bops for this time around that are BIGGER and BETTER than this one. It’s just happening that it’s unfortunate to be Spain...

• Yet again, putting Famous up on here, but of course he was disappointed to not get that win. I know I’m not the right person to judge considering I’m WHOLE THREE DAYS YOUNGER than him, but I’d still tell him he only had RTVE to blame for giving him THAT in the end and putting him through online voting rounds... and speaking of:

• Like I mentioned before several times, there was an online voting round for to pick-pocket the songs that sounded the best out of the demo-ic snippets of a minute or less. Its top 3 was of course dominated by ladies and their own bangers/just likeable enough songs, with poor Famous being 4th in it (and the top 3 is a must on there to be automatically admitted to the show without any higher-ups shuffling the other competitors ‘round later on and toying with their fates). I liked the complete final cut of the Gala for the most part, but boy did they miss out some, like this male laidback-acoustic pop bop “Sale”, courtesy of Damion Frost. I can at least forgive the loss of “El equilibrio”, but this? Nah siree. And yeah I know this whole shtick is a tire, but I like some of it, and I saw a worse track from the same shtick collection qualifying through higher-ups and that’s NOT boding well with me.

(yes of course Manel happened but still)

• Miki joining the glorious wall of epic NF victory reactions with his O face of total cartooney awkwardness <3

• and Eleni Foureira being able to rock a trashbag as a dress during her guest performance of both “Fuego” and her ‘new’ ‘smash’ hit in partially more Spanish than “Fuego” was - “Tómame”. Granted the juxtapose transition was a little too jarring, but hey - 2 songs for a price of 1. Go get them Spanish audience people acknowledging your pop art Elli <3 (also her chitchat with the ESC Gala host about what do you need to do good in Eurovision <3)

At this point I’m too not fucked to remember more of them but I’m really sure I missed a lot of the OT lulziness that happened before the Gala, during and after it (such as Natalia (who also sang one song in the NF with Miki himself) not wanting ESC but still trying better than Maria). I don’t want to be reminded of them, as my review’s as long as it is. But I’m sure someone else remembers, so I’ll let them judge.

[silviasutton1989]

T.T.K. Ch. 9 “Friends” Part 2 NSFW*

 A/N: So here is part 2 guys!!! This one is a little longer than I like to do but that is only because chapter 10 SHIT HITS THE DAMN FAN!! and the ball just steam rolls downhill from there. I hope you guys are enjoying it so far!

Word Count: 2600 

Rating: NSFW (Sexual Conduct and course language)

Summary: We see how Drake and Riley's engagement party ends.

  Catch up: Chapter 1  1.2  2  3  4  5  6  7 8  9

Here! Here!” the group cheers as they clink their glasses together.

The friends played several games after their toast. The drinks and fun times continued well into the night.  Riley was dared to kiss someone and chose Olivia. Nevile failed his dare to get the waitress number. Maxwell convinced the Dj to let him play one song as Kiara Penelope, Riley and Hana danced on stage. 

Once back in the room Drake pulls his fiance to a quiet corner. Riley moans at the scandalous words he whispers into her ear before he takes her mouth in a bruising kiss.

“Ok you two, enough with the smooching. Let's play Never Have I Ever.” Olivia scolds. “Neville, you start."

“Ok… never have I ever had sex with anyone in this room.”  Everyone else in the room takes a sip of their drinks, except for Madeline.

“Never WILL you ever have sex with anyone period.” Yvonne states the group bursts into laughter, everyone except Neville who opens his mouth to speak but Madeline sticks a drink in his face, causing him to forget his anger almost entirely.

“So..” She says as she sips the reaming juices of her Pina Collade.

 “So New game.” She stands, her hips swaying to the beat from the music vibrating through the walls. “I’m going to guess who’s been with whom.” Her pointer finger wags at everyone in the room.

“Madeline that’s very intrusive..” Liam starts

“Ok Let’s go! Well 1’st ones easy Neville…nobody.” She and the group chuckles

“Next up Yvonne and Helen…that’s obvious. “  The two women giggle to each other. She looks at Penelope the poor girl can’t help but to go red as her eyes dart from two of her friends.

Madeline smirks and stands in front of the trembling lady. Like a lioness to her prey. “My my my looks like little Ms. Innocent gets around I see. So you’ve been with…”

“Too bad all the King’s guards aren’t here or this would actually be a fun game. Right Madeline?” She whips her tight blonde curls to see Olivia’s eyebrow arched her emerald eyes on fire.

Madeline stands and tightly clasping her hands together but unable to keep her balance. “Oh I’m sorry Olivia or should I call you Cherry, since that’s what lover boy here has been calling you all night.”

Olivia sucks in her teeth trying her best to seem calm. “Issac and I are just friends.”

“Friends my ass! He’s been rubbing on your thigh like it's a damn Genie bottle or something.”

“I agree” Liam mumbles. He scoffs as he looks at the two.

“Does the thought of me with Olivia irritate you Liam?” Issac straightens in his seat. The two men finally lock eyes for once the entire night. Liam’s knuckles are white as his grip on his glass tightens, he could see the brown liquid shake in it, as his knees vibrated against it.

“No I just think she could do a lot better than a lttle one-time fling.”

“I guess it’s safe to say that Liam and Olivia are more than friends too.” Madeleine, who is clearly very pleased with herself sits back into her seat. She crosses her legs “You go girl!” She snickers as she searches her empty glass for more liquor.

“Shut the hell up Madeline before I reach over there and shut you up myself.” Olivia says through gritted teeth.

Madeline pantomimes zipping her lips together while rocking in her seat. The room is dead silent. Issac and Liam haven’t broken eye contact yet. Everyone else in the room watches on, their eyes darting between the two men.

Yvonne and Helen devoted their attention to the whole scene seen as well.

“We should have some popcorn for this kind of drama.” Helen whispers to her friend.

“Shh… girl Issac is about to say something. I don’t know what is going on but I. Can’t. Breathe.”

Issac opens his mouth to speak again but Olivia places a hand on his knee.

“Hey how about another game? Yeah? Ok Riley truth or dare?” Olivia gives her a pleading look.

“Um Truth—“

“Wait I didn’t get to do my ‘Never have I ever’” Issac’s smile is wild his eyes are just as inflamed as they look into Liam’s bloodshot pupils.

“Never have I ever taken a certain someone’s virginity, after the guy she wanted to be with just couldn’t rise to the occasion.” He cocks his head slightly as he says the words “Rise” No one moves. “Oh wait I guess I did huh?” The sound of his laughter is the only noise in the room."That's some one time fling huh?" He say as he takes a sip of his drink. 

“Oh my god” Olivia puts her head in her hands, praying that she simply imagined what just happened. But through her fingers she could see Liam’s disappointed face.

“Wow Olivia so you saved yourself for Liam but then just gave it away to a commoner? Talk about slim pickings! Why didn’t you just bone Drake like Kiara” Madeline begins to hiccup through her words.

Olivia jumps to her feet towards the blonde drunk when a hand stops her. She looks up to see Riley who looks just as upset.

“Madeline I think it’s time for you to leave. Plus Issac is a Noble so clearly you're delusional.” Riley guides her friend back to her seat tightly keeping a grip on her hand.

“No he’s not…” Madeline says sing songsy.

“What the hell is she talking about? Issac is a Count...right? am I missing something here?" Riley looks around the room  at her quiet friends.

Issac finally looks away from the King, setting his eyes to Riley. “Come on Duchess you’ve been doing this unity tour for at least a month now how many Counts have you met?”

She stammers  trying to think.

“I’ll help you out you haven’t. Your King here took away my family’s duchy—“

“My father did that Issac, and all of that is resolved now.”

“What is resolved?”  Issac is at the edge of his chair ready to jump up at any second. “Your father may have taken my heritage but you…you just put salt in the damn wound giving it away to like a damn wedding gift.”

Riley gasps finally understanding, “So Valtoria is…was.”

“Yes it was my family's duchy. Constantine stripped us from our title and land, all but killed us. The only reason he didn’t do that was because he realized my parents were innocent. So what does he do? He gives us a spacious room at the palace. Hoping to compensate for selling it off. Providing us with a new title “Count" meaning companion of the Emperor”. a sarcastic laugh fills the room from the jilted man. "You could have fixed this. You choose not to because you don't care about anyone unless it effects you. You’re just like your father you know that?”

“Woah Issac you being a little harsh.” Drake interjects to defend his friend.

"Yeah you're right, Drake. Liam is such a nice guy. Tell me, Drake, have you ever figured out why you were locked out of the ball room the other week? 

“No but..."

"Ask your friend the King he knows. My little fling here told me all about it."

“Madeline I’m going to kill you!” Olivia snaps.

“What did I do?” She leans back into her chair she watches all three men with the cliched jaws and tight fist.

“Ok we can both play this game. Hey Hana do I have some news for you” Olivia states. 

“Save it Cherry.” Madeline hops to her feet stumbling  over to the confused Hana. “I will tell her myself.” She straightens her spine giving her best sober look. “Hana Lee I am in love with you. You are the most perfect person I have ever met. You are flawless and beautiful and sometimes you smell like bubblegum. Which on anyone else I would think is completely childish… but on you it’s intoxicating ...and sexy.” Madeline lets go of the breath she had been holding. She swallows, realizing how dry her mouth is. Her eyes finally focus onto the girl sitting before her. As she expected Hana was frowning. Her eyes filled with disgust and tears, exactly how Madeline pictured in her nightmares.

“Well…I….I just thought you should know.” She hurries to her seat grabbing her purse before heading to the door. “This party is lame I’m going home.” She let’s the door slam closed being her. Neville follows.

The vibration from the music of the club fills the room. Everyone looks to each other waiting for someone to speak, eventually deciding that enough was said already, they all begin to leave out the room.

Issac pulls Olivia back. He shuffles his feet for a second before running his fingers through his hair. He tried to look at her to figure out how upset she was but her demeanor was stoic as she crossed her arms that dark red eyebrow rose to its designated place.

“Jeez Liv I’m… well you know he had to find out some time… but I know I had no right to expose you in front of your friends but I…”

“I’m going to go check on Liam.” She turns for the door, Issac jumps in front of her his body blocking the doorway.

“Why can’t you just choose me for once?”

Olivia brushes past him. “I did. Remember?”

By the time Olivia made it out of the club she could see Liam heading to his car. She quickens her pace catching up to him before he reaches the door.

“Liam.” He turns around. “I just wanted to say. I’m sorry...

“Don’t apologize to me for who you decide to have sex with that’s your choice.’

“Wait..  No I’m apologizing for what he said about you being like your father, about you being a bad friend. He shouldn’t have said…”

“He’s right though” Liam leans against the black limo. The night air gave the two a chill, and by instinct Liam takes off his blazer wrapping it around Olivia. Not letting go of the jacket he pulls her in close. “I haven’t been a good friend to anyone lately.”

“Liam you have a lot to deal with. With the country in chaos you have assassins trying to… You’re not perfect. You don’t have to be perfect.”

As he holds the jacket around her she can feel his icy hands brushing against her arms. And like instinct she has his hands in hers filling them with warmth from her mouth, thawing his chilled palms with her breath. She hadn't even realized she done it until her looks up and sees his dark almond eyes looking at her in a way he never had.

Something in Liam just snaps. With his hands braced on either side of her cheeks he leans forward and brushes a soft kiss onto her lips, teasing her then quickly retreating, but not for long. One look into her wanton eyes and he was back for more. Much more. With a low grown he captures her lips again far more intensely this time. His tongue finding its entrance into her mouth. Her taste was intoxicating. By far sending him on a better high that anything he had in that club. He spins her so that her back is against the limo. His thoughts on propriety evaporated the second her limbs: arms and legs, are wrapped around his neck and waist.  His hips lean into her, pinning her to the car, showing her exactly what her body was doing to him.

“Oh Liam…” she manages to moan out once their lips part. He lowers his mouth to the valley of her neck tasting the sweet taste of her sweat. His hands grip her ass. His fingers daring to find her warmth just within reach

“Shit Liam we can’t do this. “ Olivia stands to her shaky feet, breathless and heady.

“You’re right. I think... I just hand too much to drink tonight. I’m sorry Olivia.” He takes a small step back trying to calm his body. "Do you want to ride back with me?"

“I should probably go find Issac.” She says as she moves passed him.

He wants to stop her but he couldn’t think of what to say, or why she shouldn’t go.  All he could get out is her name, but she doesn’t hear his call and is back inside the club.

It didn’t take long to find Issac. She knew exactly where he would be: at the bar. He sits alone, his eyes focused on the empty glass in front of him. She begins to walk over but watches as he starts to smile. No he’s laughing. Olivia hadn’t noticed that their was a woman sitting next to him until the long haired blonde runs her fingers playfully through his mane. Issac puts his hands around her waist and the two begin to kiss.

Olivia thought to turn around. To run back to Liam. She also thought to run to the bar to  drag Issac out of the bar by his hair. But she chose to do neither. She left the club for a second time, alone. Once inside her limo she could still smell Issac’s cologne in the seats she can also feel Liam’s hands on her body.

"Fuck Cherry I'm going to...oh fuck me." Issac groans his lover's name as she rolls her hips on his cock. His head falls back to the headboard allowing her to have full control of their rhythm.

Olivia was finally getting the knack of riding him. Last week, the sight of his fully erect penis intimidated her. But now she wanted to be stretched and filled. Wanted him to hit that spot that makes her whole body shake. 

She continues her menstruation, loving the beat the headboard made as it hit the wall. Issac was right. She would love sex, and she did. She loved everything about sex. The way he would look at her. The way they would rip each others clothes to shreds in heated passion. The way he teased her body with kisses and touches and that look of pride on his face when he feels how wet she is for him. But the best part was...the climax. When all her thoughts fade away. Her orgasm (and his for that matter) gave her confirmation she was succeeding It was her payoff, her reward for a fuck well done.

They lay in the bed together, only thing on their young bodies is sweat.

"Do you think we could be doing this too much?" Olivia says as she looks to the ceiling. "I mean too much of a good thing has to be bad right?"

"Your pleasure is never a bad thing." Issac ghost his fingertips down her petite frame. "If you ask me we aren't doing this enough." He pulls her in for a kiss and she playfully pulls away.

"If you keep this up we are going to end up married with 3 kids before we graduate." She laughs at her comment but her doesn't.

"I'm never getting married. Monogamy isn't my thing you know that."

"Yeah...yeah I know..." He doesn't notice the pain in her smile as his mouth dips down to kiss her neck. There was one thing she didn't like about sex: How alone she always felt after it was over. His hands creep lower, and she decides to close her eyes hoping that soon her thoughts would disappear, if only for a short while.

Tag List: Ok so I do not want to upset anyone so I’m going to put this with the tags every time. If you want to be on the tag list permanently (this one is randomly selected with some permanent in as well)  let me know. If you DO NOT want to be tagged ever just send me a message I will not be upset.

@walkerismychoice @darley1101@speedyoperarascalparty@mfackenthal  @jadedpixiescribbles@boneandfur @andy-loves-corgis   @blackcatkita @missevabean@snyggflicka@stopforamoment  @agent-zephyrkah @endlessly-searching-for-you  @indiacater  @choiceswreckedme @tmarie82@liam-rhys @viktoriapetit @alicars @jlouise88 @mrsdrakewalkerblog@walkerisbae @butindeed @greyeyedsmile14 

[legrandepapillon]

Put On A Show (mardrienne)

Summary: Adrienne was a powerhouse, a captivating light in a sea of black. And Martha wanted her.  Prompt: “While I was looking away my kid went up to you and said ‘My mom thinks you’re cute’ and I was really hoping I could tell you that myself but whoops” Author’s Notes: ‘Lights’ is the name of the fashion line Hercules had on the runway. It was called this because all of the outfits contained either small LED lights or glitter.Also, listen to the song Mine by Bazzi (the slowed version). That shit is a mfn bop and I’ve had it on repeat ever since I started this

Martha claps enthusiastically with the rest of the crowd as the line of models complete their final sashay down the runway, all of them somehow managing to look glistening under the deep maroon spotlight under the stage as the evening gown twirled lightly around her ankles. This particular fashion line was so far one of her favorites that Hercules had done, and she was glad that his line had been allowed to be featured in the New York Fashion Week main event. The burlesque style dresses and well cut tuxedos had looked fantastic on the models, and he himself seemed to be glowing under the praise he was probably already receiving from critics.

Though… if the woman was going to confess, she wasn’t there for Hercules at all. She felt a tad guilty and selfish for admitting this to herself, especially since Herc had been designing for her fashion company since the thing was nothing but a little pop-up show on the corner of some rundown neighborhood. However, she simply couldn’t lie to herself as well as everyone else. Though no one had even seen the models Hercules had chosen for the Lights debut─he’d wanted it to be a surprise, who he was going to have in those spectacular dresses that Martha had only glimpsed once before this─Martha had known he wouldn’t be able to resist having either of the Lafayette twins in the show. And she’d been right.

The two famous French models that had immigrated to America had gained quite the cult following. Whether it be for the boys taste for always finding himself in some sort of celebrity scandal─the latest escapade in his long list of lovers and debauchery was getting caught sleeping with Martha’s own ex-husband, George Washington─or the fact that the nobody really knew anything about his sister. Adrienne de Lafayette was a mystery that the American public was desperate to solve… Martha included. She never was seen outside of a runway, and she had a squeaky clean record. No vindictive exes, no shady past, certainly none of the scandal that shrouded her brother’s reputation like the plague.

And ever since Martha had seen her in someone else’s line the previous year at Fashion Week, the older woman had had the slightest bit of a crush on her.

This was Martha’s niche, you see? She fell in love with mysteries, with things she couldn’t have, with things always just out of her grasp. George had been that. An… enigma. A giant question mark, just begging to be turned into a statement. She’d spent ten years as the Democratic congressman’s wife, attempting to do just that. Solve who he was, knock down those walls he so loved to build. The only thing she managed to find out was that he’d been cheating on her for five of those ten years with his hot young secretary. His hot young boy secretary.

(The kid got married too quickly after that scandal and married some poor soul that probably didn’t even have the slightest clue of his inclination to carry on affairs.)

She knew it got her hurt. She knew that mysteries were mysteries for a reason and not everything could be deciphered… but she couldn’t help herself. Adrienne was… beautiful. Her daughter had called it a minor obsession─the way she practically hoarded all the magazines the woman was featured in. Lovely hooded green eyes that seemed to say nothing and everything at all. A slender frame with a walk that always made her seem like she wasn’t quiet floating… more like floating. A bright smile─though, it was very rarely seen in her shows─that dazzled anyone with half a brain and a pair of eyes.

And it wasn’t just the looks. It was… the allure. She had a demeanor that called for… no, demanded attention. It was… stunning.

“Mom?” Patsy says, and Martha realizes she’d been staring at the space where Adrienne’s retreating back had once been. She blinks herself out of her mind and turns to look around the room. Those that were invited were slowly making their way to the rooftop venue for the afterparty, filtering out of the room. In the corner of her eye, she can see Hercules giving an interview for some magazine so she decided to catch up with him later.

“Yes, let’s go. I want to get there before him.”

Adrienne can’t help but feel considerably more relaxed when she find Gilbert’s face in the crowd of the after party, flirting with that politician he’s been fucking and looking positively electric. She is beginning to think that this George guy isn’t just another one of his fucks but having quite the effect on him, seeing as he hasn’t looked so positively electric in a long time. She wishes she could say the same for herself, but she probably looks half a mess right now. Her heels are killing her, her eyes and cheeks hurt from smiling into the flashes of cameras, and she’s so tired of playing nice with the A-list sleazebags that felt simply because she didn’t have a ‘boyfriend’, they were owed her attention. She just wants to go home with Gil, put in a copy of White Chicks and drink some nice warm tea.

Though, judging by the two men’s flitting glances and the way they keep inching near the exit, she’ll be partaking in the Wayans comedy classic alone.

Before she can finish parting her way through the crowd to get a confirmation on that, however, a hand relaxes onto her forearm and gives a gentle tug. She’s about to turn and snap─once and for all, she was done with this shit─but instead of some creep, she finds the slightly cherubic face of a young girl. The child can’t be much older than fifteen or sixteen, which meant she certainly had no business at the late hours afterparty. Didn’t she have school in the morning, or something?

“Hi, Miss de Lafayette, yes?” the young girl asks, in surprisingly eloquent French. Adrienne has to school her expression in order not to seem so excited. The only time she’d ever really spoken much of her native tongue since leaving her home in France was when she was alone with her brother─well, it was the only time she could at least get a challenge out of a conversation. America, surprisingly, did not have a ton of French-speaking models or fashion designers─which meant she’d been deprived of good conversation for awhile.

Mood admittedly a little better, but not by much, Adrienne responds with, “Yeah, that’s me. What do you need, little one?”

“I… I have something to ask you. But I’m afraid that if anyone hears it in English, it could get my mother in a lot of trouble.” The girl is fidgeting with her hands─wringing them out as she glances around. Maybe she’s trying to make sure said mother is out of earshot, or maybe she’s trying to keep something far more serious under wraps.

Whatever it is, Adrienne is immediately suspicious of it. A faint call to mind of how much of a mess Gilbert had been when he’d gotten mixed up with drugs for all those years sends a chill down her spine, and she takes a cautious away from the younger lady. “Uh… if you’re trying to get me into some sort of drug thing, I’m not interested.”

“What? No! I just wanted to tell you that my mom is pansexual, and she’s very… very interested in you. Martha? You know, the owner of the company that the guy that did this line helps design for?”

“Mart─oh! Martha Washington?” Adri knows her. The woman was a powerhouse in the industry. She had a fairly expensive line that sold millions everyday, and was so influential in the fashion community, she helped the young designers that worked under her get their upstart with their own companies. She created competition for herself, if only to have a challenge. Martha Washington’s reputation preceded her─which was saying a lot, because she started as some little nobody congressman’s wife and worked her way up by playing the field. Adrienne was pretty sure she was in love with that woman─or at least, in love with her cunning.

She’d nearly slapped the shit out of her brother when she found out she was fucking Martha Washington’s cheating-ass ex-husband.

“That would be her. Her reputation is already consistently tarnished by my step-father’s scandals, so she can’t afford to come out of the closet. But she’s got the biggest crush on you. I just want her to be happy, you see? So. I figured if she wouldn’t tell you, then I will.”

Once again, Adrienne finds herself having to rush to school her features into something professional, make sure this little sweet girl didn’t see the internal fangirl she was having. Martha had a crush on her? Her?! She was just some model, she didn’t even have half the attention her brother got. How could Martha even know about her?

“Ha, you’re a sweet kid,” she says, instead of asking all those questions. If this was true─which, she couldn’t see the child’s motives for lying─then she wanted to make a good impression. She didn’t want to be a giggling, blushing mess should Martha find her daughter and join their conversation.

And just Adri’s luck, that’s the exact thing that happens.

“Patsy? What are you doing bothering Miss de Lafayette?” a voice asks, and both girls eyes flit up. For a moment, Adrienne thinks the woman looks out of place. No, that’s not it… she looks significantly less important than she actually is. Weaker, even. She looks like she’d been dragged to this by her rich, connected husband─not that she was the one that fronted most of the money to make it happen. The dress she wears is less evening party and more housewife─even having soft pastel blues and pinks─, and her hair isn’t in any favor elegant updo but hanging loosely around her shoulders. Her eyes are warm and brown, and there’s a look of nervous concern on her face.

“She’s not bothering me. Simply telling me about… your eagerness to meet me. I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced,” Adrienne tries, using all her efforts to be as smooth as humanly possible. Don’t fuck this up. Don’t fuck this up. Don’t. Fuck. This. Up.

“Well, I was hoping to tell you that myself,” Martha says, aiming a careful glare to her daughter─who had been trying to inconspicuously sneak away from the conversation the moment she heard her mother’s voice. She mouths an apology before running off to join her step-father and Gilbert, probably much preferring to be around the two laughing men than her mother’s impending wrath. “But… yes. I actually, erm… I─”

“It’s okay, Martha. I know,” Adrienne comforts, placing a light hand on the other woman’s bicep─checking her expression to make sure the touch is welcome. When all she receives in response is a light blush and wide eyes, she gives a cheeky grin. Was this woman was actually… cute? “I have some ideas for some of your merchandise. Here’s my number. Maybe we can talk some time?”

Once the card is in her hand, Martha manages to find her words─digging her own card out of her clutch to pass it to Adrienne. “I’d like that. This is my number. You can contact me here.”

Figuring now is a good time to leave before things get awkward, Adrienne lowers her hand and takes a careful step back─jerking her thumb over her shoulder as she begins moving towards the man. “Well… I’ve got to go get my brother. He’s trouble if left alone too long, y’know? I’ll call you, though!”

Later that night, when Gilbert is snuggled up to George in bed and Patsy is thoroughly grounded in her room, both women pick up their phones and are especially delighted to find their notifications blowing up with headlines.

ADRIENNE DE LAFAYETTE SEEN FLIRTING WITH CEO OF FASHION       COMPANY: HAS THE MYSTERIOUS WOMAN FINALLY BEEN SOLVED?

[adriennescomingbacktolife]

           There it was.    The Baltimore City Championship. Resplendent in all of its glory. The golden plates shimmered in the overhead lighting. Encased in glass, it rested on a dark red velvet pillow.    Adrienne Levi shared that bright spotlight. She would be one of the women competing for the honor of representing Carnage Wrestling and its home city at the 100th edition of Chaos. Sitting in a chair, elevated far off the ground, she adjusted a mic clip to the collar of her logo t-shirt.    Looking at the camera, she smiled and asked, “We on?”    The red recording light on the camera answered that question for her. Adrienne exhaled sharply as she considered her words. Here she was, on stage, speaking to an opportunity that rarely comes. Earned through unorthodox means. Against an adversary that had been her partner for the last month.    “I haven’t talked about this much,” Adrienne said as she gestured to the championship on her right, “and to tell the truth, it’s because I didn’t totally believe that this would happen. Everyone has been so gracious in their assessments. That I deserve this. That I’ve come a long way.”    Smiling graciously, she cast a small glance towards the case.    “Thank you.”    Steepling her hands in her lap, Adrienne leaned forward.    “These past few weeks have been challenging. Losing stinks but that isn’t what this is about. I’m not the sort of girl who dwells on one bad night at work.”    Thinking back to former champion Eli Goode, he became more and more unhinged with every defeat. His delusion grew as he talked about which championships mattered and didn’t. It had consumed him.    And everyone now seemed to be an enemy to him. Things that had never been said by her were attributed to her without a second thought.    Nervous to admit, Adrienne saw a strange parallel emerging in her current circumstances.    “No, that isn’t it. I told you all right away. I’m not new to this industry. I don’t have the accolades or credibility of all of you, but that’s okay. Everything I’ve earned has been right here this year. But prior to Carnage, I was,” Adrienne paused, reaching behind her to retrieve a folded up photograph. Carefully, she opened it. For just a second, her eyes narrowed, and her expression could be construed as contempt. She turned the photo forward before continuing. “This was me.”    Adrienne was certainly right in the corner, but this was the “first autograph” she had shared earlier this summer. Someone else was featured prominently: “Magnificent” Danny Levi.    “Well, Danny and me.”    She tossed it aside, and the piece of bent up glossy paper floated down onto the wooden stage.    “You can draw your own conclusions here. Or if you want to, go on to YouTube and look up Danny Levi’s Greatest Hits. I’ve given up trying to remove the compilation of every time he struck me. Clearly, people enjoy watching it more than anything else he ever did. And as you all know, he’s gone.”    This had been no real secret. It’s just something she didn’t want to talk about much. Recent events had forced her hand.    Softer this time, she said, “He’s gone.”        That night was not Adrienne’s best effort. She had been a non factor against Axton Gunn and Sebastian Hawke. Leaving The Dragon Lady to twist in the wind. And in the end, they had lost.    Not that she really cared. Uncharastically, Adrienne left the show early. Within twenty minutes, she was back at Kohaku’s apartment, slowly emptying an unwieldy three-liter jug of zinfandel. Getting on Twitter, she poured out her guts and then logged off. Should have probably not pressed Send on those. Setting down her glass, she hiccuped. Feeling queasy, she realized this was a poor idea. However, it was the only thing she could do to take off the edge.    Everything piled up, and anyone who she thought would understand - was possibly part of the problem. Or reminded her.    The fox had held to his word. Phone number no longer worked. He was long gone. All that was left was that confusing book. Something she couldn’t even wrap her mind around with the rockstar around.    Axton Gunn had upset the apple cart.    It wasn’t him exactly, it was --    There was a sharp knock at the door.    Adrienne tried to remember if she had ordered delivery. Or if it was just one of those “wine and me” sort of evenings.        But before she could get off from the couch, the door opened. She sat there, dumbfounded, as Danny Levi sauntered through the doorway. He had cleaned up nice. Always valued a nice fitting suit.    Giving her a little wave, he smiled, “Surprised, aren’t you?”    “How?”    Raising an eyebrow, he pointed to the wine with an appraising look. “What do you think, Ade?”    Waltzing into the kitchen, he opened the fridge.    Disappointed, he called back out to her. Adrienne hadn’t left the couch as she stared at the still open door, “You aren’t a very generous host, are you? I could go for a nice porterhouse right now.”    Danny entered the living room. Nonchalantly, he plopped down on the couch next to his wife.    “I mean if I weren’t wormfood.” Laughing incredulously, he placed a warm hand on Adrienne’s shoulder. She closed her eyes. His exclamation pierced her mind with ease, “Goddamn. You can’t even look at your old man?”    “Cuz, you aren’t real.”    With deep, slow breathing, she tried to refocus on the night she had been having prior.    “Of course, I’m not real, you dumb bitch. So, just look at me.”    Danny’s arm shot forward, grasping her jaw and twisting her head towards him. He spoke low, hissing through his teeth, “Look. At. Me.”    Adrienne’s slowly opened her eyes. Danny Levi smiled that crooked grin. On closer inspection, his skin was pallid, and he looked like he hadn’t rested for a long long time.    “Good girl.”    He let go. Danny eyed the contents of the coffee table, besides the wine that is. Adrienne had been signing a stack of autographs to mail out in the next few days.    “Doing alright for yourself, aren’t you?” He said insincerely. Grabbing one up, he eyed up the promo photo. It was one in her new full bodysuit. She smiled at the camera, fists balled up, and ready to right. Her looping signature was bold and elegant. “What the fuck are you even wearing here?”    “I like it.”    “Nobody cares what you like.” Chuckling, he moved on, tossing the photo back on the pile. “You remember the good old days? That little blue dress. The first few rows would always try to see up your skirt. Don’t blame them; you were a good piece of ass, Ade.”    Danny pantomimed a chef’s kiss. Adrienne looked back towards the door, and she could have sworn he had left it open as he strolled in.    “Be serious. This is just the worst of who I was. How you choose to remember me, right? We haven’t talked in so long. I know you said goodbye. Disposed of me like garbage. Tossed away that ring of yours into the drink. Moved far, far away. And promised that you’d never think of me again.”    Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, Danny drew her in. He smelled of decay.    “But thanks to Axxxxxton,” sarcastically, he exaggerated his name in a manner she was familiar with, “I found you.”    “Wasn’t his fault.”    “I know, I know. Could have been anyone. Fitting it was that piece of Cali trash. Remember the time when I tore up that special poster. Signed just for you, and you wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it. Moped around for days until I set you straight.”    Danny messed her hair up with an affectionate nuzzle.    “You always come around eventually.”    Adrienne swallowed hard. His imagined touch repulsed him. This past summer, she had seen and heard things she couldn’t begin to explain. And here was another one. But she knew he was gone. She saw the light leave his eyes.    “Side effects of becoming a drunk, I suppose. See, you can run away from mommy, but I’ll always be inside you. Like a parasite, Adrienne.”    Abruptly pushing her away, he then stood up.    “Anything to say for yourself?”    Staring at the ground, Adrienne mumbled to herself, “What’s the point?”    “None really,” he concluded, “I just wanted to see if you had it in you. Here’s your chance. You’re the hero of the story, and I’m the villain. Look at me with all of my flaws, and you’d see I ended up being a truly despicable person. And here you are. You know the truth, you’re right down in the hole with me. You are moldering beside me. You keep manifesting these ways out, but fuck, none of them are real.”    Danny started to take off his suit jacket, folding it neatly on a chair next to the couch.    “So, maybe I should stick around. Perhaps every night, when you’re all by your lonesome, I’ll drop by. We can reminisce about all of the bad times. Maybe you throw me a fuck for old time’s sake. Maybe Fairman takes a break from his eternal rest, and you swallow him whole. As awful as I was, I was always a generous man. You gotta give me that.”    She shook her head, unsteadily. He sat down in the chair. Unzipping his fly, Danny signaled to her with a disingenuous suggestive tone.    “Danny’s had a long day, Ade. Why don’t you--”    Her phone chimed. It startled her, but it also made her realize that she was alone in the literal sense. Gathering her scruples, Adrienne clicked on the notification.    A brief, direct message from Matt Knox. Yo. kidYou're lovedSee you at 100        “I’m just trying to start over.”    Adrienne recalled the conversation she had with Amber last month. Ultimately, she just wanted to prove Danny wrong. She never considered that she’d become so attached to the people here to the point where she would quit an unsatisfying but secure job. Or running away from her family like she were some wronged teenager.    “It hasn’t been smoothest road. But this shot represents something I’ve never had. I’ve always stood in someone else’s shadow. And while I’m not that impressive compared to others, I’ve worked hard to get better.”    She paused, giving the belt another look. Who wouldn’t fantasize about that moment? She would bask in the glow of victory, holding that championship high.    “I deserve this.”    That statement hung in the air. It was something that many have said. Depending on who, it always took on a different feel.    “But not more so than The Dragon Lady.”    Adrienne wanted to give this woman her utmost attention. It was time.    “I guess I’d like to apologize to you formally about the last match. My head wasn’t in the game, and it cost us against a unit that had something to prove. To some, that makes things interesting. Personally, It hasn’t changed much. This was going to happen either way. The next Baltimore City Champion will be one of us.” Adrienne chuckled briefly, “Is that enough sports cliches for you?”    She steeled her resolve. Adrienne always found these next moments difficult, and after Axton, she was perhaps more reluctant than ever.    “We’ve spent a lot of time together. Trained. Ate together. I even met your manager.”    Mameha was impressive. She enjoyed her company, and the excellent tea certainly helped.    “But we always knew that everything led to 100. That every action would be measured. These past few times, I guarantee we’ve studied each other just as much as our opponents. I know my weaknesses. I know that I can’t match your skill or ability. I don’t possess the knowledge you have when it comes to a good fight. But that’s the thing.”    She paused, emoting that this was a realization for the audience to hear.    “I don’t need to. I just need to be me. I know this will be the most challenging match of my life. You aren’t some cartoon villain like Grant or Winter. You’re not lashing out at shadows like Eli Goode. You’re one of the most formidable opponents I’ll ever step into the ring with. Some of your decisions have perplexed others. You gave up an opportunity for the Chaos title to roll in the mud with Alex Winter. It’s not hard to see why.”    Adrienne thought back briefly to Winter. Nobody seemed to be learning the nature of this guy. Every action creates a reaction. Whoever chose to accost Alex has only made it worse.    “He gets under your skin. And by hook or crook, he humiliated you. I think we were fortunate against the likes of Goode and Matthews. Your attention seemed to be on Alex Winter that evening.” She raised her pointer finger in the air as to qualify her statement, “This isn’t to say that you can’t walk and chew gum at the same time but could have been a different story if Goode or Matthews were actually on the same page.”    And that brought her to their most recent outing.    “And while I was far from my best against Gunn and Hawke, I would be remiss if they didn’t get credit for their outstanding teamwork. Their game plan was simple.”    Taking a moment, she leaned forward.    “You.”    And she hated to admit that, but the strategy was plain as day.    “At first, I considered this to be an exhibition of sorts. I had my apprehensions about Axton Gunn. I’ve explained it enough. Sebastian was a little abrasive at first, so it was strange to hear such shining praise from his lips. But I think what you did only served to put a fire under them. It gave them the motivation to work together and wipe away that initial sting of defeat. I still don’t know either of them very well. Axton, sure. He’s a big deal. But personally?” Adrienne shook her head. “So I would hope that this championship is your focus this week.”    The camera panned out slightly to put Adrienne and the title in the shot.    “Because I wouldn’t be a student of the game if I didn’t take advantage. I want to become champion. I’m not sure if I can say it any better. I’m not like the Jack Michaels of old. I’m not Mitch. Or Silvio. Or anyone else for that matter. I just know that it’d mean a lot to represent this company. A company that, despite whatever issues linger, gave me a chance. It would mean everything for me to represent a city and a community that has welcomed me with open arms.”    Shrugging her shoulders, she concluded, “I guess it would make me happy.”    Adrienne shared a little smile. Not a lot to smile about recently. But again, that little fantasy took root. It would be awful nice. She had a guest coming, and with every passing conversation with Sylvia, she thought it would be cool if she saw her win that title. Retrieving a little slip of paper from her jeans pockets, she read it to herself.    “I’ve been thinking about this a lot. The Dragon Lady probably knows what this is or at least whose handwriting this is.” Tapping a finger against the note, she said, “She’s right. Just a few months ago, I was huffing and puffing my way through my debut against Starburst. And before that, my life was just passing me by because I don’t think I understood who I am. Who I could be. I’m not sure I should be so definite here, but these chances like this don’t come often. I have to seize this opportunity. It won’t come easy. But this right here is my story, my life, and yeah, this might be my only chance for it. I’m choosing to rise and become a champion this city can be proud of.”    Tucking the note back away, she then slid off the chair onto her feet. She didn’t fall on her face on camera, fortunately.    “I hope that’s okay with you. But either way, that’s who I am. A champion in the making. The future. Whatever else others want to say.”    Danny Levi’s specter remained, and so maybe it didn’t have to be one thing or other. Adrienne could fall in love with this business, and at the same time, she could take everything he had ever had. His claim to fame. His success. And more…    Adrienne Levi’s mouth twisted in a slightly mischievous smile. Knowing she could get away with this, and it would infuriate him.    “Maybe at the end of the night, you’ll just call me Magnificent.”

[moonraccoon-exe]

Early Morning Hours

For @gladnisweek Day 4.

Prompt: Early Morning Hours

Summary: Really it’s just Ignis staring a lot and Gladnis starting the day very nicely.  ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Warning: Gets somewhat NSFW towards the end. Descriptive narrative so it may get boring for some.

Also on AO3 here.

 The birds had either forgotten how to, or had yet not woken up to start singing.

The silence of dawn was curious. It was different than the quiet at night, and different than the quiet of the day. It had its own color, like the sky; not blue or black, rather an incredible mixture of a wide variety of colors in constant change; from the black to the purple, going through red and orange, yellow tones, even pink here and there, before starting to eventually turn into the blue of day.

Right in those moments, the sky was in that stage of constant change with no definitive color. The light that peered through the curtains was scarce, but its shape and intensity changed along the colors of the sky, both being controlled by every inch that the sun moved up. 

And said light, in constant change, also made of the ink feathers and the lines of muscle look different with each variety. It was not as obvious as it was on the colors of the sky, but the change was there; a shadow that could have been here disappeared after five minutes into the changing light of dawn, and a feather that could have been illuminated enough could have turned darker, depending on how the play of shadow and light moved on the canvas.

Ignis liked to imagine that, if he could record this and if he played it at high speed forth and back, maybe the subtle change of light could make the feathers look in movement, as if though the bird was in plain flight. But he liked it like this; slow, too slow for anyone to notice as it changed, and only able to tell by comparing ‘this moment’ to ‘five’ or ‘ten’ or ‘fifteen minutes ago’. He did have as much time; he had, like usual, woken up too early. 

Gladio always nagged him about his ‘caffeine overdose’, but Ignis never considered that to have any influence on his sleeping habits. He had always been an early bird, so far he remembered. That he was also becoming a night owl did not mean he was not an early bird anymore. He had to admit he got poor hours of sleep, but to him that did not matter; why on Eos would he want to sleep, even if he could, when he had this absolutely beautiful and worth-more-than-any-money-could-ever-pay canvas right at his side, in front of him, for him to admire?

He knew that every Amicitia Shield got the tattoo when they received or were to receive the title officially, and it was always the same design. But, just like fingerprints, as similar as they can get, there are always differences. Lord Clarus’ back could have been similar in his days to his son’s, but it was not the same. Even if only one spot, or one birthmark, or one tiny scar, or one single pore, a single line in a slightly different angle, there was always a difference. No human is exactly the same than any other no matter how similar they can be, just like no Amicitia tattoo was the same than others. 

And this was one of them, a unique Amicitia, with his own tattoo, unique in its own way. And Ignis had the honor of seeing it during these lazy morning hours when neither he could nor did he want to sleep any longer. The adviser laid in bed, resting on his side, hand holding the weight of his head and curious eyes tracing every line of the tattoo drawn on the strong back in front of him.

Gladiolus adored being the little spoon, so that was a vantage to Ignis, who oh so dearly adored to spend some moments staring at that wonderful back, strong like a mountain, wide like a shield, beautifully sculpted like a statue of ancient times, and stunningly painted with fine art as mark of the Amicitia. 

Gladio’s back on its own was a real wonder; broad and unmovable, the strongest back Ignis had ever known. Lord Clarus was a big man himself, but nobody could compare to his son. The tattoo was like a beautiful royal gown on an already beautiful woman; it was not the reason of beauty, only a complement to it. The lady was already majestic on her own; the gown only did but give emphasis to said beauty and turn it into almost celestial art.  

Gladio himself was like that beautiful goddess in her beautiful gown, but better, because he was real, and his own kind of pretty. Ignis, lying on his side and smiling all the time since he woke up to the sight, stared at all of Gladio’s body from behind, admiring it, admiring him. His hair was not like silk, like in the romance novels they sometimes read; it was soft, but not a wonder. Still, the locks of brown were exquisite like dark chocolate, and there was nothing that Ignis adored more than caressing said hair whenever Gladio dropped himself on the adviser for a nap.

Even though he could not see them from that angle, he did not need that to add more to his list; his scar, the wonderful reminder of his courage and morality and loyalty. The beard that he so annoyingly (in a good way) insisted to rub against Ignis’ face and thighs, harder for each complaint Ignis gave. 

Ignis’ smile grew a little and his eyes moved to the Shield’s nape. There was still a little mark of a bite nearby it, between it and the shoulder. He felt both proud and a bit ashamed of it; he knew Gladio liked it rough, but Ignis’ urgency to take care of others made him feel a bit of guilt too.

He sighed as his eyes went down to stare at the Shield’s strong, wonderfully sculpted arm. Sometimes, Ignis forgot just how built Gladio really was. The arms that could make of Gladiolus either the most loving of hugging lovers, or the roughest dominant in bed. Ignis closed the eyes and stopped breathing for a moment, controlling himself. He did not want his own arousal to interrupt his moments of admiration for Gladio’s body. Art first. 

His eyes went to the tattoo again, and discovered it had changed again under the light. There were many more parts in the light now that the sun had to be halfway up, and the angle had changed some shading, at least according to how it looked when Ignis first moved back enough to look at the gorgeous canvas. The adviser took in a breath through the nose and slowly let it out; gods, how he adored looking at Gladio’s tattoo. He could do that all his life.

He wanted to wake up every morning to that sight; either Gladiolus’ face in front of his own, or his tattoo exposed for him to admire. No matter how many times Ignis looked at it, how many mornings he had spent doing this, he never grew tired of staring. Gladio’s back was wonderful, Gladiolus was wonderful, his tattoo was wonderful. Ignis wished Gladiolus could see himself as the adviser saw him; maybe then, he could understand why Ignis did not even desire sleeping a little longer and why he loved the early morning hours. It was all of Gladiolus just for him to look at and appreciate. 

Ignis moved his free hand closer to his boyfriend, and softly, oh so softly put a fingertip against the skin of Gladio’s back. The Shield did not react. Ignis could hear his heavy but quiet breathing of sleep. The adviser could not help a smile and the thoughts when he laid a finger on Gladiolus’ skin. Gladio, as an Amicitia, was a Shield. The purpose was pretty clear; they were as their name tagged, a living shield, sometimes literally, with the duty of protecting their prince or king.

Their duty was mostly physical; the body was the most primary, basic and necessary tool for an Amicitia. An Amicitia’s body protected a king; in some way, an Amicitia’s body protected the entire kingdom. Their only duty in life was to not die under any circumstance unless it was protecting the person they were sworn to. Their only duty was to not let anything happen to or touch that body.  

And there Ignis was, touching an Amicitia’s body. An honor very little people could earn, an achievement not many realized was an achievement on its own; touching an Amicitia. Even more than that, touching an Amicitia while said Shield was asleep. Profoundly asleep at such early hours in the morning, Gladiolus was not even conscious of Ignis’ fingertip on him. Gladio had gone to sleep aware that Ignis was at his side and would be there while he slept; sleeping was switching off for long hours, which was any human’s most vulnerable state. While he slept, anyone that was around could do anything to him, to his so needed, so valuable and so imposing body.

  That Gladiolus slept next to him was a way of giving him that power; the power to lie beside a sleeping Amicitia, vulnerable and completely exposed for Ignis to do as he pleased, if he pleased anything…but trusting he would not. That Gladio allowed Ignis to sleep beside him so unwittingly, not even thinking about all the concept behind, was like one of the highest recognition of trust coming from an Amicitia; ‘I allow you to be nearby me in my most vulnerable and exposed state, because I trust you will do no harm’.

  Absolutely wonderful, in so many ways, to be given the marvelous honor of touching an Amicitia, and to be given said trust. And so, so dearly appreciated…

  Ignis kept the finger gently pressed in the same spot for a few moments, before he used the fingertip to very slowly and barely touching at all start tracing the curve line of the feather drawn in there. He followed it slowly until it was covered under the line of another feather. His fingertip caressed onto it like it was the continuation, and deviated to the left when he found another line. The minutes passed as Ignis continued with what had become his morning ritual, tracing Gladio’s tattoo with a fingertip. He paid close attention to feel every millimeter of skin, every pore under his touch, and closed the eyes as he did. His finger continued and he half-opened an eye sometimes just to make sure he was going in the correct direction, but mostly kept the eyes closed. He was trying to complete his mental map, so that he could see the tattoo even without seeing, only out of memory.

  Ignis opened the eyes after a moment, smiling widely. Gods, he loved Gladiolus’ tattoo so dearly. It was such a huge part of Gladio, a very beautiful visual but an even more beautiful concept; it held part of his essence, his family, his purpose of life. Gladio was not Gladio without his tattoo. The adviser sighed yet again and continued looking at it, tracing it with the fingertip, apparently distractedly, but focusing. Gladio’s breath had gone quieter, and he shifted slightly in his sleep. Ignis had started to know Gladio’s early morning persona a little better, and that was a sign to know the Shield was starting to wake up. Ignis, however, continued tracing through his tattoo, the fingertip drawing every feather with invisible ink over the visible one. He was counting the feathers, and lost count at fifty-three.

  The adviser continued smiling all the while as his finger followed the lines. He saw Gladio move a little in his sleep when Ignis’ finger reached the lowest part of the tattoo, at the shield’s lower back, one of the most erogenous zones of his body. Ignis smiled more widely and contained a little laugh, and decided to not touch there too much or for too long, and his finger got away only to find another line to land on somewhere between the shoulder blades.

He only got to trace a few more feathers before Gladio’s shoulders moved, his breath calmed and he sighed, and he started coming awake. Ignis did not take the finger off him and only waited, giving his boyfriend the time he needed. A few minutes later of slowly coming awake, Gladio moved the shoulders again and started rolling onto his back. Ignis did withdrew the finger before it was trapped between the mattress and the boulder that his boyfriend was, and widened his smile while watching the Shield land on his back and take even more moments to wake up.

  Soon, Gladio was moving the fists up to his eyes to rub the sleep away. Ignis, on the meanwhile, rested the same fingertip on Gladio’s chest, on more lines of his tattoo. The Shield either did not process it or did not care, as he offered no complaints or reaction and only continued rubbing his eyes, dropping his arms on his face and staying half-asleep for a few more minutes, or sighing to come awake.

Finally, after he was able to mostly come awake, Gladio rolled onto his side so he was facing Ignis, and the adviser put his finger away, looking at his boyfriend. Gladio’s hand softly but firmly found his hip and caressed it, his long fingers resting on the beginning of the curve of his boyfriend’s butt.

“Morning” he lazily greeted with a hoarse voice, dry from the lost of moisture from the previous night, and still rather sleepy. Gladio looked at him with half-opened and dirty eyes and a sleepy but sincere smile. The sight was beautiful, at least to the adviser, and it made him smile back.

“Good morning” Ignis greeted back and put the hand down so he could rest the head on the pillow again instead of holding its weight on his palm.  

“You were touching me again without my consent” Gladio told him with the same sleepy voice and a hint of playfulness in it. “You perverted man.”

“I think I almost have it now” Ignis told him quietly. “The map.”

“The map?”

“My mental map…” Ignis moved a fingertip up and drew an invisible curve on the air. “I’m memorizing your tattoo, so that I can see it even when I’m not seeing it. So that I can trace it from heart without having to look.”

“Really?” Gladio asked him as his smile grew wider. He was able to open the eyes a little more by now, more conscious with each second. He stared at Ignis sweetly and felt a nice and warm puddle spill in his heart, and he, like every single morning, fell in love with the adviser again. “It’d be interesting. One day let’s make the experiment; we blindfold you, you dip the finger in paint, and you trace the tattoo, see how much of it you get right.”

“Oh, so blindfolding has other uses?” Ignis asked him with the same hint of playfulness in the voice. He smiled when Gladio lowly laughed.  

Gladio continued grinning as he moved up and closer to be half-hovered over Ignis, leaning down to press his lips against the adviser’s. The younger man closed the eyes and kissed back, a hand moving up to find Gladio’s chin. His fingers shyly touched the itchy beard as their mouths moved together, lips capturing one another, letting go and coming to lock again. After some more kissing, Gladio broke apart only to stop, but his lips still ghosted on Ignis’. He kept the eyes closed, adoring the sensation of breathing the same air than his boyfriend, and reached for a little peck.

“You know, I can still feel you…there, inside me” Gladio whispered to him without opening the eyes. He moved a hand up and his fingertips caressed Ignis’ face. When he opened the eyes, he found the adviser’s cheeks subtly blushing red, and his lips smiling.

“I told you to get a shower to clean that” Ignis whispered back, and let Gladio brush away some locks of his messed-up hair from his forehead.

“I didn’t say it was a bad sensation” Gladio replied with a growing smile, and Ignis’ cheeks burnt noticeably this time. The adviser hated it whenever the Shield made him blush, and Gladio knew it, so he laughed lowly when Ignis snapped the head to a side and tried shoving the Shield away of his face.  

Gladio let himself be moved away, and he rolled back onto his back, head going back to the pillow. He sighed and growled lowly, closing the eyes and resting again. Ignis gave him a few moments to recover from waking up, adoring the little grunts and the way Gladio stretched without standing or sitting up. Ignis rolled on his side and put the head on a hand again, staring at Gladio once more. At his vulnerable Amicitia recently woken up, and lying in bed, nude, only half the body hidden under the sheets, and beautiful, at his side.

“Since when are you awake, Ignis Scientia?” Gladio asked after a few moments of rubbing his own eyes and a little sigh. He let go of his face and turned to look at his boyfriend. “And why are you not touching me anymore?”  

Ignis laughed very lowly and got closer. He moved up so he could hover over Gladio this time, and gave him a sensual but not heavy kiss. Only this adviser knew how to make of a peck something arousing. Gladio moved a hand up to land on his boyfriend’s waist, softly.

“Somebody woke up feeling horny, I presume” Ignis said lowly with the face at mere inches from his boyfriend’s.

“You’ve been touching me while I sleep” Gladio replied and smiled at him. “It’s not my fault.”

“It’s not my fault that you’re so stupidly stunning, my dear” Ignis said with a playful grin that Gladio mirrored. The adviser gave him another little peck and used a hand to caress the Shield’s cheek. “What else am I supposed to do? I wake up early and there’s you for me to admire. Of course I’m tempted to touch.”

“I’m not complaining, my heart” Gladio replied and closed the eyes as Ignis leaned down to kiss him again.  

After some kisses, Ignis soon properly climbed on top of him to be more comfortable, and straddled Gladio’s waist, without breaking apart. His legs tangled a bit in the sheets that half-covered them, but he paid no attention. His lips focused on Gladio’s, catching them, soaking them and tasting like it was the first time he ever kissed and wanted to study the sensation. Gladio’s hands found their place on his boyfriend’s thighs, slowly caressing them up and down in slow motions.

The kisses started getting heavier and slower, and their mouths started opening more with each kiss that was given. When Ignis pressed closer to him and sneaked the tongue into the Shield’s mouth, Gladio’s hands slowly moved up until finding the other’s hips and stayed there. Their tongues rolled against each other, lips roughly collided, and teeth started joining in the dance.  

Minutes went by and the morning started with the couple greeting each other good morning that way, rather unexpectedly, but unable to stop or refrain. They had no reasons to do such a thing, and let the flow go on.

After long moments of kissing and whispers, some caresses, teasing, and a few bites, after permission was asked and given, and after some lazy preparation, Gladio had finally slipped a pair of fingers inside his boyfriend. Ignis sighed tremblingly at each movement inside and softly bucked the hips. The Shield praised him and looked at him while the adviser focused on his own pleasure, still hovered over Gladiolus, legs spread at the sides of his boyfriend’s hips and body thrusting back slowly and onto the other’s fingers.

Lying as he was with Ignis on hands and knees on top of him, Gladio was in a disadvantaged position where he could not push his fingers as deep as he wanted, but Ignis was loving as little as he was getting, and the Shield adored looking at him. He adored that it worked as teasing as well, when Ignis’ expression transformed from content to hungry. It was then that Gladio knew it was suddenly not enough for Ignis, but he did nothing to fix that for a moment.  

Instead, he asked Ignis to tell him what was wrong, why the sudden change of mood and why he did not seem as content. The adviser denied anything, but the Shield knew his ways through his mind and his body, and moments later the had Ignis asking him for what he wanted, where, how and how much he wanted it.

Gladio listened to him, teased a little longer, and adored of his boyfriend’s shaky breaths and occasional moans as he continued thrusting back on Gladio’s fingers, looking for that ‘More’ that he needed and could not find, and loving the sound of dissatisfaction that Ignis made when he pulled the fingers out, but adoring so dearly more the high pitched but very soft moan that slipped past Ignis’ lips when the head of Gladio’s cock entered him.  

At first, the Shield had intended to have Ignis do all the job for him, but Ignis requested he took the top. Once Ignis, sat on him and controlling the pace, had adjusted and gotten used to him, Gladio brought him down only so that he could roll them around, without exiting his boyfriend, so that it was Ignis resting on the bed with the Shield on top of him. 

Ignis rounded him with legs and arms, and moved the head to a side to expose the neck for Gladio to eat from as he wished. He hugged the Shield by the shoulders and rested the palms flat on his back. Ignis opened the mouth and he closed the eyes, shivering and muttering a small curse when his boyfriend kissed right on the exact spot of his neck that drove him crazy, and felt Gladio starting to slowly but steadily move the hips.  

He opened the eyes again and let his own hands wander on Gladio’s strong, so architectonically beautiful back. For a moment, he let a few fingertips find some of the lines of the tattoo, without needing to look, and traced them slowly and softly, moving down along them as best as he could remember, while Gladio continued rolling the hips against his, until he reached his boyfriend’s lower back. Ignis laid the palms flat there and teased with the fingertips, which earned a breathless curse from the Shield into his ear. Ignis smiled and breathed in synchronicity with him, heavier with each thrust.

Apparently motivated from the previous gesture, Gladio’s hips gained speed and the Shield focused, shaking any hint of early morning laziness away to start moving as only he knew how to do it; steady and good, trading speed for strength.  

Some moments into it, Ignis started moaning every now and then. He let Gladio move as he pleased, let the man talk against his lips before licking them, answered to his dirty questions with dirty answers or with little moans when he could not formulate words, and let him kiss and lick as he pleased where he could reach, hips doing the opposite to stopping and only gaining more speed and energy with every thrust.

At some point Gladio buried the face in the crook of Ignis’ neck again, and the adviser hugged him again, hands flat on the Shield’s back, caressing it, adoring it, tracing his mental map and adoring of the skin against his hands.

It was rare to be given the opportunity to touch an Amicitia, but this sort of touching was even rarer. And Ignis and only him had been given that honor.

Usually, Ignis did not like possessive pronouns, but sometimes he could not help the pride to know himself, him among millions and millions of people, not having become an owner but something even better; chosen as partner, by an Amicitia. Him, among everybody else.

Adoring the weight of his Amicitia on top of him and adoring him regardless of any name or title, adoring him with all his heart and the strings of his soul, Ignis hugged him and called out his name, digging his short fingernails on the traces of the tattoo, and adored this Gladiolus, the one of the early hours of the morning, before the sun had finished rising, before the birds had started singing, before he had showered, eaten, dressed or done anything at all, because this was the most natural that he could get to be; a Gladiolus in his natural and most vulnerable state.  

Ignis smiled while hugged to his boyfriend and closed the eyes.

“My Amicitia” he whispered to his boyfriend’s ear while Gladio thrusted back and forth inside him, and loved the little shaky breath of response. “I love you…”

His words were followed a few seconds later by a little moan when Gladiolus pushed deeper inside, a small breathed moan slipping past the Shield’s lips as well, hips moving at an even and normal pace, not rushing. It was early in the morning; why rush? They had time. 

Gladiolus moved slightly up, grounding a forearm and a hand at the sides of Ignis’ head, staring down at him with lust and affection in the same brown gaze. Ignis looked up at the imposing, dominant figure, and only closed the eyes when his boyfriend moved down to lock their mouths together. 

As the Amicitia on top of him gained strength in each thrust, Ignis hugged him tighter with the legs and dug the nails a little more in the traces of his tattoo, that he did not require to look at to see, and quietly moaned into his mouth. 

Finally, the birds started singing, but Ignis did not hear them.