#they did a fantastic job with wrapping it up with a nice bow honestly

[waterbearwasteland]

Man the ending of Fiona and Cake made me cry so much but I’m so happy with what they did

[sainzfilm]

hello can you do a pierre gasly x driver!reader where they’re friends and always flirting but pierre does something that accidentally makes reader jealous so he makes it up to her? thank you ❤️

pairing: pierre gasly x driver!reader

a/n: i love the jealousy trope sm i want it to happen to me irl……but then again not all men are pierre gasly

ps. i nicknamed her ace :) just because i thought it’d be nice to make her the new star of ferrari and im making her a duo with carlos!

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

“She’s won twice from provisional pole in Formula 1 and is going to win from pole again! To start the season off with celebrations from Ferrari, Y/N Y/L/N wins the Bahrain Grand Prix!”

Zooming past the checkered flag, you screamed through the radio as your race engineer congratulated you, “We fucking did it! Oh my god!”

Your race engineer chuckled as she clapped through the radio, “Fantastic race, ace! Well done, you coped brilliantly today.”

“It’s unbelievable,” You exhaled deeply as you threw your fist up in the air, “This won’t be the last time.”

The crowd cheered and screamed as you pulled yourself out and stood on top of the car, waving your home flag as you basked in the victory once again.

Making your way up to the podium alongside Lewis and Carlos, you grinned as you held the trophy up, spotting a familiar pair of blue eyes looking up at you with a smile.

It didn’t take long enough as you immediately went down to run up to Pierre as he wrapped you in a big hug, “Great job, ace. You proved that you’re worthy of your seat in Ferrari.”

“It was a tough one honestly,” You mumbled against his neck as you sighed and hugged him tighter, “You started off the season with points too!”

He laughed as he grabbed his cap from his head and placed it on yours, “Enough about me, darling. Wanna walk to the holding for post race interviews?”

“Of course,” You smiled as you bowed down and offered your hand, “Shall we go, monsieur Gasly?”

Pierre bowed down and grabbed your hand, “Always, mademoiselle Y/L/N.”

Laughing as you walked alongside each other, Pierre’s hand never failed to find home around your waist, which caused drivers and fans to always tease you about a possible blooming relationship with the Alpha Tauri driver.

“You wanna go out for a snack after? I discovered this new food park nearby,” You nudged his shoulder, “Just to have a mini celebration.”

Pierre frowned as he pulled his arm away and sighed, “Oh. Uh, I’m going out with a friend. She’d probably get upset if I cancelled so suddenly.”

Friend. She. Maybe you should’ve not assumed that what you had with Pierre was going somewhere beyond friendship.

“I see,” You nodded slowly as you forced a smile and took his cap off your head and gave it back to him, “I’ll go ahead. Have fun with…uh, your friend.”

Pierre frowned as he couldn’t say anything return from how quickly you left to attend to your post race interviews. He didn’t miss the way you forcibly smiled at him, even the way you emphasized the word ‘friend’.

Post race interviews were dragging – maybe it was because of Pierre. You should’ve been happier, you snatched the season’s first win. But, why was this bothering you so much?

Did you like Pierre? No, you couldn’t. This was the guy that you jokingly flirted with. That was all it was to him. It’s on yourself for falling for those antics.

“Ay, ace,” Carlos nudged your shoulder gently as you two rode up the elevator in the hotel, “What’s been going on with you? You’ve been so…out of it since the post race interviews.”

You shook your head and ran a hand down your face, sighing in the process, “Nothing. I’m just tired.”

“You sure about that?” Carlos raised his eyebrow, “So that’s Gasly’s name now? Nothing?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Carlos,” You gritted through your teeth as you crossed you arms, “Who cares about him?”

Your Spanish teammate chuckled as he patted your shoulder and exited the elevator, “Sure, ace. Keep telling yourself that. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Scoffing, you called out as he entered his hotel room, “He sucks! All you boys are the same!”

“Who sucks?”

You stopped in front of your door as you held onto your keycard tightly, “What are you doing here?”

Pierre sighed as he put his hands inside his pocket, “Uh…I just wanted to check up on you.”

“I’m fine, there’s nothing to worry about,” You mumbled as you opened your hotel room, “It’s late now. You’re going to be late for your plans.”

“Ace, hold on,” Pierre grabbed your hand quickly, turning you around to face him, “Be honest with me. Did I do something to upset you?”

“I said, nothing,” You pulled your hand away from him and frowned, “I’m tired, Pierre. I want to go to sleep.”

Taking a deep breath, Pierre looked in your eyes, “I…cancelled my plans with her.”

“So? What do you want me to do about it?”

“I know that’s the reason why you’re upset,” He replied as he grabbed your hand once again, “She’s just a friend. Nothing more than that.”

You frowned as you looked at him, glancing at his hand holding yours, “Why does this concern me?”

“Because you’re not a friend to me,” He mumbled as he cleared his throat, “You’re more than that. I should’ve realized that sooner, ace.”

“Pierre…”

“I promise, I’m not lying,” He squeezed your hand as he gave you a small smile, “I want…I want to see where this goes.”

“You sure about it?” You looked up at him, voice feeling smaller than usual, “I don’t want to jump in something if you’re not all in.”

“I’m all in, ace,” He looked down at you, gently caressing your face, “Let me make it up to you. Day by day. I’ll prove myself.”

Huffing, you frowned as you rolled your eyes and hugged him tightly, “You better. I’ll make sure you’ll have a DNF next to your name in the next races of the season if you’re fooling around.”

Pierre chuckled as he wrapped an arm around you, kissing the top of your head, “You still wanna go to that food park now?”

You tried to fight back a small smile as you looked up at him, resting your chin on his chest, “Your treat?”

“Anything for you, ace.”

bonus scene!

“Ay, what’s taking her so long…” Carlos mumbled as he knocked louder on your hotel room, “Y/N! We’re about to leave now!”

As the door swung open, Carlos couldn’t believe who he saw in front of his eyes, having to blink a few times before he was certain.

“Huh? This isn’t your room?” Carlos raised his eyebrow as he paused for a moment and grinned, “I knew it.”

“She’s…uh almost ready,” Pierre smiled sheepishly as he scratched the back of his neck, “Sorry she woke up late. I took her out to the food park last night.”

“Sure, Pierre,” The Spaniard smirked as he patted his shoulder, “Just be sure to take good care of her. She’s like a little sister.”

Panting, you pulled your suitcase out of the room as you looked at the two drivers out in the hallway, “I’m ready?”

“Time to go, Gasly’s!” Carlos clapped as he grinned and ruffled up your hair, “Wait until Charles hears about this.”

“Damn it, Carlos! Come back here, don’t tell him yet!”

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 7

Saturday November 9th, 2019

Aberdeen Bloom was nervous.  

Halloween night has been…interesting, to say the least.  After Will had walked her home and tried to kiss her, she’d gotten into the elevator and started a quick, mad scramble of flailing arms and limbs about what had just transpired.  She couldn’t believe it – how he tried to kiss her and she flat-out denied him – when every single fibre of her being wanted to kiss him back.  But she knew she couldn’t, for her own sake and for Will’s sake, too.  There was no way she would jeopardize her job like that, and there was no way she would jeopardize Will’s good standing with the club, particularly Brendan, who was fond of him.  It was an internal fight she needed to win; reason needed to triumph over passion.  

When she got back into her condo, she took off her costume, washed all her makeup off, and brushed her hair through.  When she was done, she looked at herself in the mirror – really looked at herself.  To try to see what Will apparently saw.  The long, brown, wavy but frizzy hair; the thick eyebrows; the Greek nose; the pink lips with their cupid’s bow.  She was pretty, somewhat, though she knew beauty was in the eye of the beholder.  Not as pretty as Siena though, who inherited much of their father’s elegant Persian characteristics, so much so many people didn’t believe they were sisters; and not as striking as her brother, who was a perfect mishmash of Mizra’s Persian and Orla’s Scottish, with his olive skin and blue eyes.  She wondered what Will saw in her to make him say “I want you”; what he saw to make him call her minskatt, his treasure, when she didn’t really believe so.  

Her first text to him was that night.  text me when you’re home safe please

A few minutes later, she received what she wanted.  im home minskatt

Every time he called her that she couldn’t help but swoon.

But the show had to go on, and Aberdeen still had a job to do, despite what happened on Halloween and despite all her swooning.  She still needed to be Brendan Shanahan’s personal assistant.  She still had to travel with the team when needed.  She still needed to share charter flights with them, stay at the same hotels, and show up at the same continental breakfast areas.  She still couldn’t let anybody know anything had happened between her and Will.  And when she was on the job, running around and fetching coffee and Prada shoes and Gucci suits and organizing meetings and accompanying other teams’ general managers and presidents to Brendan’s office, while simultaneously trying to shield comments from Ethan, she was too busy for her mind to be constantly preoccupied by Will.  But the second she saw him, in work out gear or a suit or in his jersey, she was done for.  She tried not to let it show.

Though every part of her wanted to kiss him back that night, at the same time, she didn’t want him to get too close.  Halloween had her feelings had bubbled to the surface.  That wasn’t the problem, because she could suppress them, especially on the job.  The problem was Will.  He apparently couldn’t suppress them like she could, especially on the job.  He started to flirt.  Openly.  Not in front of Brendan or anyone else in the office, but definitely in front of the team.  And definitely more when they were alone.  She knew it was part of his personality, to be an open flirt, but he’d started asking her how he looked in his suits walking into the arena.  

So she’d have to come up with retorts.  

Saturday, November 2nd, against the Flyers, he’d asked, “How do I look?” when he walked in with a perfectly tailored grey suit.

He looked fantastic.  But nobody could know she thought so.  “You look like you can save me 15% or more on car insurance,” she responded.  His lightning fast wink wasn’t caught by anyone or any camera.

On Tuesday November 5th against the Kings, he’d asked, “What do you think?” as he walked in wearing a black suit that made his blonde hair stand out.

“You look like a honey glazed ham,” she responded.  Jason, who was walking with him, spit out his water all over his suit.

On Thursday, November 7th against the Golden Knights, he’d walked into the arena with the most ridiculous ensemble she’d ever see a person wear in her entire life, and she went to school in downtown Toronto.  He had a Sugo hat – from the great Italian restaurant on Bloor – secure on his head.  Stubble.  A more prominent moustache.  Vintage eyeglasses on.  A blue, yellow, and black throwback Reebok tracksuit jacket on, unzipped slightly to let his chest breath and just enough to show off his chains.  Matching trackpants.  Best of all, a pair of the most absurd looking Leafs Uggs.  They were alone at that point – he was one of the first players in for the morning skate, and even arrived before the media – and she audibly scoffed when she saw him.  “How do I look?” he asked, smiling.  

She knew that he knew he looked completely ridiculous.  She could do nothing but shake her head.  “I don’t even have the words.”

“Find them,” he practically begged.  That’s when she knew this would become a thing between them.

“Honestly?  You look like my father when I see pictures of him living in pre-revolution Iran.  Except blonde.  And more facial hair.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” he asked.

“My dad’s awesome, so take it as a compliment.  But fourteen year old teenagers don’t exactly have the best fashion sense.”

“Maybe I’ll get to meet him and see that picture one day,” he quipped.

“No chance, William Nylander.”

Tonight, on a Saturday Hockey Night in Canada, the Leafs were facing the Flyers again, the second time in a week, back to back Saturdays.  This time, however, the Leafs were at least at home, though everyone had to get on a flight after the game to head to Chicago for a game tomorrow.  Busy as usual, she walked into the staff kitchen to warm up the snack wrap she’d bought to get her through the day.  When she walked in, she saw Ethan making a tea.  

“Hello,” she greeted him, trying to be polite to him though he had never really been polite to her.  

“Hey Girl Friday,” he said.  He wasn’t even looking at her, so she had an opportunity to roll her eyes.  “What brings you into the kitchen?  Shouldn’t you be fetching coffee?”

“I’m heating up a snack wrap,” she said, walking over to the microwave and popping it in for a minute.  

“Should you really be eating that?”

Aberdeen’s back stiffened.  “Why shouldn’t I?”

“Do you really need it?” he said, finally looking at her after he finished making his tea.  “Nobody likes a piggy working for a hockey team with some of the most in-shape guys in the league.”

She couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.  Her jaw dropped open as she couldn’t find the words to respond to him.  “W…What?” was all she could muster out pathetically.  

“Seriously Girl Friday, do I really have to spell it out for you?” he asked.  “Your clothes might be stylish but I can see right through you,” he said, leaving her hanging as he walked out the door.  

Aberdeen couldn’t believe what had just happened.  The words that Ethan just said.  Commenting on her snack and the fact she was eating.  She couldn’t believe he had the gall.  He’d used the word piggy.  PIGGY!  What man in their right might would say something like that to another human being, let alone a woman?  She looked down at her body, covered by a black cable-knit sweater and skinny black plaid pants.  Did…did she really…

No.

Ethan Baker was just being a colossal fucking asshole.  

Instead of getting low on herself, she got angry.  She had been nothing but nice to him, and had succumbed to his stupid hazing and initiation, and he still treated her like shit.  What else did he want from her?  Why was he so incessant on making her life a living hell?

As the microwaved beeped to signal it was done, Aberdeen felt a buzz from her phone in her pocket.  It was, of course, from Brendan.  Please go meet Cliff Fletcher at the entrance and bring him to my office.

She left her snack wrap in the microwave, taking the elevator down to the main floor and walking towards the entrance.  On cue, Cliff was getting out of a black SUV.  She opened the door for him.  “Hi Mr. Fletcher,” she said.  She tried her best to conceal the anger and annoyance in her voice, but she could hear it.  She wondered if he could.  “How are you?”

“I’m great, Miss Bloom.  How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” she said as they walked towards the elevator together.  She pushed the button and waited for the light.  

“Excited about the game tonight?” he asked.

“Sure,” she shrugged her shoulders.  The elevator pinged and the doors opened.  They got on and the doors closed, with Aberdeen pushing the floor button.  “Hope that we don’t have to play Philadelphia for a while after this.”

“Why not?”

“The jerseys.  They’re awful.  Their home jerseys at least are awful.  That hideous orange,” she made a face, sticking her tongue out in disgust.  “Imagine having to wear that all the time?  Who’d want to be general manager?”

“My son, actually,” Cliff said, chuckling slightly.  

Aberdeen’s face dropped.  Oh, shit.  Here we go again.  Aberdeen just had to go and open her big mouth again.  She just had to let her emotions get the best of her; had to let Ethan Baker get the best of her.  “Are you for real?”

“I am for real,” Cliff mimicked her, smiling.  “My my, Miss Bloom.  You’re really keen on speaking your mind.”

“Mr. Fletcher, I’m sorry—” she said as the elevator door opened.  

“That’s quite alright, Miss Bloom,” Cliff waved her off as they stepped off the elevator together.  “It’s quite refreshing to hear your take on hockey jerseys, but if I can give you a word of advice, be careful about who you speak your mind to.  You never know when their son could be a general manager of the team with the hideous jersey,” he winked.  “Or, conversely, if that general manager’s father used to be in charge of the Maple Leafs.”

“Mr. Fletcher—”

“I’ll see myself to Brendan’s office,” he said, making her stop dead in the tracks.  “I’ll see you during the game, Miss Bloom.  I’ll be looking forward to seeing you in the box and hearing more of your thoughts.”

***

“Aberdeen, can you come in here for a minute?” Aberdeen heard Brendan call out as she sat at her desk outside his office, busy entering some new appointments and meetings into his Google calendar.  She stood up from her seat and walked into his office.  He was standing near one of the windows, moving eventually to lean against the frame.  

“Yes sir?”

“I just had an absolutely wonderful discussion with Cliff,” he began.  It was a normal start, but Aberdeen noticed that he hadn’t corrected her like he usually did when she called him sir.  That automatically made her nervous.  “We talked about his time here, we talked about how the kids were doing, his son who is somewhere in this building…and then we talked about you.”

Aberdeen gulped.  He was going to absolutely annihilate her, just like he’d previously done.  “Mr. Shanahan—”

“Do you know why I hired you?” he asked, interrupting her.  “I always hire the same sort of person.  Male, workaholic, of course…worships the team.  But so often, they turn out to be – I don’t know – disappointing and, well…stupid,” he began.  “So you, with that impressive resume and the big speech about your intelligence and your so-called work ethic…I – well, I thought you would be different.  I said to myself: go ahead.  Take a chance.  Hire the smart girl who knows nothing about hockey.  Hire the girl with immigrant parents who grew up in an old bungalow in Etobicoke,” he used her own words from that disastrous interview.  “I had hope.  My God, I love on it.  Anyway, sometimes you end up disappointing me more than…more than any of the other silly boys.”

She bit her lip.  She didn’t even care that her eyes were watering and he could see that she was about to cry in his office.  “I really didn’t mean t—”

“That’s all,” he dismissed her coldly.

Aberdeen turned and walked out of the room.  She didn’t even bother going back to her desk.  She didn’t want him to hear her cry.  But instead of going to the staff kitchen, instead of going to the women’s bathroom or outside or just anywhere else that wasn’t the office, she found herself walking directly towards Kyle Dubas’s office.  He wasn’t her therapist.  He was barely her friend – hell, barely her acquaintance.  But for some reason, she gravitated towards his office because she knew, at some level, he would listen.  

Kyle watched as she walked in to his office, and he could automatically see the redness of her eyes.  He didn’t put his pen down or close his laptop.  “Everything alright, Aberdeen?”

“He hates me, Kyle.”

“Who?”

“Brendan.  I don’t know what else I can do because if I do something right, it’s unacknowledged.  He barely says thank you.  But if I do something wrong, he is…vicious.”

He knew what he had to do here.  He knew his role.  “So quit.”

Aberdeen looked at Kyle, furrowing her brows at his words.  So simple yet so direct.  “What?”

“Quit.”

“Quit?”

“I can get another person to take your job in five minutes.  One who really wants it,” he said with such confidence it made her worried.

“No!  I don’t want to quit!  That’s not fair!” she raised her voice.  The notion, to her, was completely ridiculous.  “But…I…you know, I’m just saying that I would like a little credit for the fact that I’m killing myself trying.”

“Aberdeen, be serious.  You are not trying.  You are whining,” Kyle deadpanned.  She stared at him, surprised that for such a soft-spoken and articulate guy, he was laying down the law.  “What is it that you want me to say?  ‘Poor you.  Brendan’s picking on you.  Poor you’?  Wake up, Aberdeen.  He’s just doing his job,” he said harshly.  “Don’t you know that you are working at the place that housed some of the greatest and influential athletes of the century?  Bower.  Clancy.  Sundin.  And what they did, what they created in this city, was greater than the sport, because you looked up to them,” he said.  He stopped momentarily.  “Well, not you, obviously, but most people,” he fixed his mistake.  “You think this is just a company, hmm?  Just a hockey team?  This is not just a hockey team.  This is a shining beacon of light for…oh, I don’t know, let’s say a young boy growing up in Sault Ste. Marie who couldn’t continue playing hockey because of concussions but worked his way through the offices until someone like Brendan had faith in him and gave him a chance.  You have no idea how many legends have walked these halls.  And what’s worse, you don’t care.  Because this place, where so many people would die to work you only deign to work.  And you want to know why he doesn’t kiss you on the forehead and give you a gold star on your homework at the end of the day.  Wake up, sweetheart.”

He was right.  God, she knew he was 100% right.  He was wrong about nothing.  And for him to be so open with her – she knew he was referring to himself when he spoke about the young boy growing up in Sault Ste. Marie.  She was being a complete suck.  “Okay, so maybe I’m screwing it up,” she acknowledged.  Kyle cocked his head to the side in agreement.  “But I don’t want to.  I just wish I knew what I could do.”

“Well, for one, you need to walk into this building everyday knowing and understanding the history of this hockey club beyond just the surface level and what Brendan tells you.  But you already know what to do, Aberdeen,” Kyle said confidently.  “You just need to find it within yourself and do it.”

***

Aberdeen didn’t know where her mind was for the rest of the night.  Kyle told her she already knew what to do, and that she just had to do it, but she didn’t know what that was.  At least not yet.  It occupied her mind for the rest of the day, until the team started walking in and she greeted them all before they went into the locker room.  

When she saw Will, he was on his way up the stairs with Auston Matthews.  Word had gotten around the locker room that she’d been saying these things – that she had a wicked sense of humour – and now everyone wanted to hear it for themselves.  The game-time roast of William Nylander.  She saw him wearing a tan wool coat.  His face was red from the cold wind outside.  “You like what you see?” he asked.

“You look like a Costco hot dog.”

Auston almost fell over.  His shriek was so loud she closed her eyes from the noise.  “Jesus Christ, Auston,” she pretended to plug her ears.  

“I always knew you had it in you, Aberdeen,” he said, shaking his head and wiping the tears that fell from his eyes from laughing so hard.  

“What’s it?” she asked.

“I don’t know.  It,” he looked back at her before walking into the locker room with Will.

Now he was in on it too.  She had it inside her?  What the hell were he and Kyle talking about?  She didn’t think she was anything special, especially in the world of hockey.  

***

Instead of winning in a shootout like last week in Philadelphia, the Leafs lost in a shootout at home.  It was dumb, and she knew the players hated the shootout.  Aberdeen and Brendan arrived at the locker room at the tail end of Mike Babcock giving them a stern talking to about something they did wrong during the game, and after he was done, the boys dispersed and began to take off their gear as they always did.  She watched quietly as Will pulled his jersey over his head and began unstrapping his gear.  

Brendan was looking down at his phone when she looked at him next.  He was furiously typing something.  “Can you go pick up guests at the door, please?” he asked, not looking up from his phone.  He was probably still mad at her for earlier.  

She nodded her head and began walking down the hallway, only for Will to show up beside her, his hockey socks still on.  She figured he was being deliberately annoying, taunting her knowing that Brendan was in the same room and in close vicinity.  “Get out of here,” she mumbled.

“You get out of here.”

She rolled her eyes, reaching for the door handle and opening it.  She was greeted with a man and a woman.  The man was tall and bald, already with a smile on his face, a grey polo shirt and slacks on; the woman had long blonde hair and striking blue eyes, wearing a simple pair of jeans and a Leafs jersey.  “Hello,” she greeted them politely.  “You’re here to see Mr. Shanahan?”

“Actually…” the man began, smiling at Will.

“Hi mama, hi papa,” Will said, smiling from ear to ear, leaning in to hug both parents.

Aberdeen’s face dropped.  She took another look at the man and the woman.  Of course.  Of course they were Will’s parents.  He was a carbon copy of both of them; a perfect mix of his mother’s blue eyes and his dad’s smile.  “Mr. and Mrs. Nylander!  Hello!” she said, suddenly nervous.  When they were finished hugging their son, she extended her hand.  “I’m Aberdeen Bloom.  I’m Mr. Shanahan’s executive assistant.  It’s so nice to meet you!”

“Aberdeen?” Michael said, smiling slightly.  “Det här är flickan som du berättade för oss?” he switched to Swedish as he looked at Will.  [[ This is the girl you told us about? ]]

“Ja.”  [[ Yes. ]]

“Så hon var varför du var älskar sjuk hela sommaren?” Camilla asked her son.  [[ So she was why you were love sick all summer? ]]

“Jag var inte älskar sjuk,” Will furrowed his brows slightly at whatever Camilla said.  [[ I wasn’t love sick. ]]

“Säker,” Michael rolled his eyes.  [[ Sure. ]]  He focused his attention on Aberdeen again.  She’d been looking in between all of them speaking Swedish, trying to pick up on any semblance of word that sounded like English.  “It’s very nice to meet you Aberdeen,” Michael smiled.  “Will mentioned that Brendan had a new assistant.”

“There he is!” Aberdeen heard Brendan’s booming voice from down the hallway.  She looked behind her to see him making his way towards them, a giant smile on his face.  “Nice to see you guys!  Come in, come in!”

“William was just introducing us to Aberdeen,” Camilla smiled, motioning to her.

“Ah yes, my new executive assistant,” Brendan smiled at her.  She smiled nervously.  “Come come, let’s take a walk.  We need to catch up.  How is Jacqueline?”

As Michael and Camilla followed Brendan down the corridor, completely ignoring their son and Aberdeen now, Aberdeen and Will were almost alone.  She felt him grab at her elbow gently.  “You don’t actually think I look like a Costco hot dog, do you?” he asked.

She snorted, biting her bottom lip to stop from letting out a laugh and having Brendan, Michael, and Camilla look back at them.  “You really are no thoughts, head empty, aren’t you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you have no thoughts going on in that little brain of yours,” she smiled.

“I think about one thing…two things,” he clarified.

“Hockey’s one,” she knew that already.  “What’s the other one?”

“You.”

The revelation hit her like a tonne of bricks.  He had to know by now that he couldn’t just say stuff like that and expect her to have a normal reaction.  “You just love to see me squirm, don’t you?” she asked.

“I just love to see you, minskatt.”

[werejusttouchingeachother]

DUBAI 2019 [August 26th, 9:00PM]

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 T/W: smoking, smutty Words: 3638

True to your word, you’d shown him all of Dubai in the ways that it was meant to be seen—at night. Of course, the crowds never did recede but it was easier to go unnoticed with you manoeuvring him through less packed areas.

More than any other city you’d been in, Dubai reeked of luxury. Fancy sports cars were on every corner, most of the crowds were decked in designer from head to toe and the buildings were taller than any you’d ever seen. One would have to drive quite a bit out of the heart of the city to find areas inhabited by the average middle-classes.

Places that no common tourist guide would ever take anyone.

And so you did. You drove Baekhyun to all your favourite parts of the city, revelling in the awe on his face as you lead him all over downtown.

It was easy to lose yourself in a city like Dubai. Much like New York, it was easy to be caught up in the hustle, a lifestyle where you merely drove from your apartment to the workplace and back, using what little of the weekends that you’d had to yourself to just stay in your bed.

But after three months of living in such oblivion, you ventured out on a Friday night. You drove alongside the beach, wanting to see where the ocean ended or where the land began. And in true Dubai fashion, you hadn’t realised how long you’d been driving.

Until you’d seen the first glimmer of the sun’s rays as it filtered through the dark sky.

There weren’t many places that were dark in Dubai since almost all the roads were lit with the faint yellow streetlights but as you drove along the beachside, you’d wandered too far from the city’s bright lights and closer to the murky darkness that seemed like an abyss as the shore and the ocean merged into one black void.

But then the sun had risen far in the distance, a narrow streak of the first bright ray almost blinding you as it crept over the coastline.

You’d gotten out of the car and watched the sunrise then as it cascaded over the city.

It was slow at first, almost tentative as it leapt over the still waters and you watched as the ocean turned teal again, sparkling with every hit of the sun’s rays that then reached out farther to the skyline and brushed against the peaks of the skyscrapers in the distance.

You can recall how you’d immediately thought of Baekhyun then, sitting down on the sand as you felt the warmth slowly envelop you. You were reminded of all the cities, all the times you’d seen him, all the countries.

But the sunrise reminded you of Paris. Of that afternoon at the hotel after you’d both confessed, of the way he’d taken you into his arms and kissed you. Of how you’d been crying, feeling a cold numbness almost set into you until he’d wrapped you in his ethereal warmth, basking you in his sunshine.

You took him into the heart, driving along the highway that bordered the same Corniche beach.

You’d rolled down the window and watched Baekhyun as he leaned his head back in his seat, eyes closing at the rush of the cool wind against his face. He held your hand over the gearshift, smelling the salty ocean and at one point, you were certain that you could even taste it in the air.

“It’ll be nice to see the sunset here,” he’d murmured and you’d tightened your grip on his hand, closing the windows when the car had slowed as you drove back to the main streets. You let go of his hand to grab his mask and handed it to him, saying, “Sunrises are pretty, too.”

“You don’t like sunsets?”

“I like sunrises more,” you’d shrugged as you turned to the alley behind the restaurant, driving into an empty parking spot. “They remind me of you.”

Baekhyun blinked then, cocking his head in confusion as you unlocked your seatbelt and grinned at him.

“Never mind,” you answer his unasked question, taking the hat off his head. “You can take off the mask. Let’s go have dinner.”

Baekhyun seems wary as you lead him up the familiar wooden stairs by his hand, noticing his spooked expression as he looked around the slightly dark restaurant. You finally reach the glass doors of Trance, pushing them open and smiling when you see the familiar face.

“Zahid,” you call out and he looks up from his phone at your voice, a grin mimicking yours as he stands up to greet you warmly.

“I was starting to worry, Y/N,” he admits, shaking your hand fondly. “You haven’t been here in a long while.”

“I’ve been busy with work,” you confess apologetically before swatting his arm jokingly. “I’m here now to make up for it, aren’t I?”

He shoots you a look, feigning a mock-impressed expression as he says, “Yes, it’s always a pleasure when a guest buys the entire restaurant for four hours.”

You grin as you mouth a genuine ‘thank you’ before pulling your boyfriend by his arm forward, switching to English as you say, “Zahid, this is my boyfriend, Baekhyun. Baek, owner and co-chef of Trance, Zahid.”

“Ah, hello, nice to meet you,” Baekhyun greets, holding out his hand and bowing slightly by habit.

Zahid smiles widely as he takes his hand. “EXO’s Baekhyun, I’ve heard so much about you! I must admit I never listened to Korean music until she told me about you but I really like it! I was there for the fountain show, Power!”

“He was,” you agree, laughing and raising your arms when you could tell Zahid was about to attempt the choreography. “Okay, please don’t embarrass me.”

“But that’s my job!”

“No, your job is to cook for us and run this place that I just paid a lot for,” you retort, rolling your eyes playfully as you grab Baekhyun’s arm. “I’ll be at my usual booth.”

The air is cooler on the rooftop, the wooden floors slightly echoing against every step that you take. The rooftop lounge is wide and spacious with modern furnishings and sleek interior designs. The red and blue moody lightings gave a relaxed and an almost seductive vibe with the dark colour scheme of the restaurant. A cluster of Moroccan-styled pendant lamps are placed at the corners to casting the intimate mood lighting softly over the plush cushions and sitting booths.

Overlooking the banister around the lounge is the breath-taking view of the Dubai skyline. Trance was not on an extremely high floor that overlooked the buildings but there wasn’t really any place from which you could look down at towering Burj Khalifa—except maybe from a plane.

Nevertheless the view was impressive and you knew the Baekhyun felt the same as he stared off into the distance, the city lights reflecting in his eyes like a cosmic galaxy as you lead him to your usual booth at the corner.

“When’d you start speaking Arabic?” Baekhyun mutters as you take off your jacket. He blinks, looking down at the plush couches of the sitting booth, caught off guard.

“Okay, so,” you start in explanation, feeling excited. “I know you expected a fancy restaurant with tables and chairs but this is a lot better—it’s a rooftop shisha bar. The non-smoking restaurant area is downstairs and this is for shisha mostly. Now, okay, listen, I know—” You raise your hands in a calm-down gesture when his eyes widen at your words. Slowly, you say, “I know you haven’t done this before so I thought you could try it because honestly, there’s no better place to do it. No one is here nor can anyone come in because I’ve reserved the whole lounge for the rest of the night for utmost privacy.”

“But,” you continue, giving him a small smile, “I also know that you’re sensitive to smells which is another reason why I booked the entire place actually so that other people smoking won’t bother you. But if you don’t want to try it at all, we can just eat out here because honestly—” You throw your arms open to gesture at the expanse of the sky above you, stepping close to the banister to gesture at the sparkling city below.

“—the view is fantastic,” you complete, grinning at him.

Baekhyun leans back against the banister across from you, crossing his arms with an unreadable expression as he asks, “How long have you been coming here? It must be often since you’re really close with the owner. Also when did you start smoking?”

“Not as often as I’d like to, and no, we just struck up a conversation once and got along fairly well.”

“Y/N, he knows me. You introduced me as your boyfriend.”

You throw your hands up in exasperation. “Okay, fine, we’re kind of close! He’s a great guy and trustworthy, so just believe me, please. You know I wouldn’t tell about us to any random person.”

Baekhyun stares at you in silence, raising an eyebrow when you don’t continue. “Okay. I believe you. Now answer the smoking question.”

You sigh, slumping your shoulders as you shake your head at him. “Relax, Baek, I’m not doing it often. I just come here when I’m stressed because it honestly is relaxing.” You hesitate before crouching to grab your coat from the couch, ready to leave but Baekhyun takes your hand, pulling you down.

“All right, fuck it, let’s do it,” he relented, sighing and giving a small smile when you start bouncing with excitement. He holds up a hand, loudly stating, “Buuuut please get something that doesn’t give me a headache. I have to shoot tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry!” You nod excitedly, calling over the familiar waiter. “I’ll get something mild.” You think before teasing, “Maybe cucumber—”

“Bye,” Baekhyun deadpans, starting to get up and you grab his arm, laughing as you pull him back onto the couch. You sink back into the plush couch after ordering, relaxing into Baekhyun’s side as you watch him stare at the waiter in fascination when he walks back in with the shisha vase in his hand.  

You sit up straighter as he sets up the vase on the crimson Persian carpet between the two of you, stirring the coal atop the plate before handing you the hose. You thank him softly and Baekhyun turns to you as you remove the plastic wrapping around the mouth-tip to insert it at the end of the hose, hearing him ask what you just said.

“Thanks,” you responded, looking up at Baekhyun as the waiter leaves.

“No, say it in Arabic, the way you just did.”

You smile slightly before enunciating, “Shukran.”

“Shukran?” he repeats softly, eyes on your mouth to imitate you and your own gaze drops to his, grinning as his lips form a pout.

“Yes, shukran,” you whisper, unable to stop yourself from pressing a light kiss before pulling back and giving him a teasing smile. “Do you like it when I speak Arabic?”

“I like it when you speak any language,” he replies huskily, leaning forward and pausing when he notices the hose in your hand. “Okay, why can’t I smell it? How mild did you ask it to be?”

“It’s not something you smell that strongly, Baek, it’s not weed,” you laugh at his worry, placing a hand on his knee comfortingly. “Give it a minute. Just relax and just watch me, okay?”

You lean back and raise the hose, wrapping your lips around the brightly-coloured tip and inhaling slowly. Baekhyun watches you carefully with hooded eyes, gaze darting to the base of the vase, watching the liquid bubble slightly as you inhale and remove it from your mouth, a puff of smoke escaping your parted lips.  

Baekhyun is leaning back against the couch, watching you with wide eyes. You raise an eyebrow at him and he asks, “I want to be repulsed by this so bad but why the hell am I turned on watching you do that?”

You laugh, shaking your head as you hold out the hose to him. “Do you want to try it? It’s fine if you don’t—”

He grabs the pipe, cutting you off. Gently, you instruct how to do it and you watch as he hesitates before following your words. You watch as he blows a puff of smoke and give him an impressed look as you cheer, “Hey, you did it! And you didn’t cough!”

“Why is that smooth?” Baekhyun demands like he’s offended as he stares down at the pipe. “And what is that flavour?”

“What do you taste?” You grin, leaning back on the couch.

“… something fresh,” he answers, looking at you in bewilderment. “Like the beach. Almost like mint but it isn’t.”

“It’s called Spring Breeze. Do you feel relaxed?”

“Yes, very, and I hate it.” At your confused expression, he explains, “No, I love how relaxed I feel and I hate how much I love it.”

Beaming widely, you call over the waiter to order dinner as Baekhyun gets more comfortable with the pipe, smoking and puckering his mouth to attempt blowing circles.

“Okay, hon, relax,” you chide, taking it from his hand to slow him down. “It’s not vape, you can’t do all the cool tricks with this.”

“What can you do then?” Baekhyun questions, sitting back to watch you take your turn.

You pause before taking another puff and then lean forward until your face is hovering a few inches away from his. Locking eyes with his, you lift the pipe and inhale deeply, feeling the fresh almost minty-cool mist settle on your tongue and lower it only after a few seconds. Slowly, you exhale from your nose, causing thin tendrils of wispy smoke to drift down your nostrils.

Baekhyun leans forward, inhaling the sweet-smelling smoke as you breathe it out and you feel his fingers on your arms then, pushing you against the couch. You make a muffled noise of surprise upon being pressed against the plush velvet when he closes the distance between your mouths, a smoky mist still around your faces as you taste the coolness of the shisha on his lips, his tongue. An intense sensation of arousal rises deep within you and you can’t help but moan softly into the kiss, melting in his arms like putty.

“Does this get you high, Y/N?” Baekhyun mutters against your skin as he presses kisses into your throat. You whine out a protest to his question when you feel a sting as his teeth bite down slightly on the soft flesh.

“It does give a buzz, though,” you admit breathlessly and Baekhyun pulls back to look at you lazily smile up at him with half-lidded eyes, swollen lips and a reddening neck.

“Does it get you horny?” He asks, voice husky with arousal and you feel his hand hike up the hem of your dress, resting on your thigh.

“From past experiences, no,” you answer honestly, raising your finger to trace the defined cupid’s bow of his lips. Baekhyun’s eyes dilate slightly at your touch and you whisper, “Pretty sure that’s not the shisha and just my red lipstick doing things to you again, Baek.”

He doesn’t respond as he grabs your raised hand by the wrist, lowering it and bringing his own fingers to your mouth. You hear his breath audibly catch as your lips part almost with a mind of their own to allow his fingers slip inside easily.

Choking slightly from the way you’re sitting back, Baekhyun’s other hand comes around your neck to tilt your head up enough and he pushes his two slender digits in almost all the way to his knuckles.

“Yeah, it’s the lipstick,” Baekhyun agrees as you suck lazily, rolling the tip of your tongue on the underside of his fingers and he groans at the sensation. His other hand quickly dives in between your pressed knees, roughly parting them and you gasp aloud, arching up from the couch when you feel his hand dive in between your thighs. His eyes meet yours with disbelief as his knuckles press against your clothed core, asking, “Why’d you wear underwear?”

You narrow your eyes at him, wrapping your hand around his to yank his fingers out of your mouth, a trail of saliva connecting his fingers as you reply, “Because I dressed for dinner and not sex.” You straighten on the couch and tug down your dress, much to Baekhyun's dismay, continuing, “Also, this country is kind of strict about its rules against PDA so you might want to—Baek, the waiter's coming, get your hand off my ass.”

You elbow him on his side, glaring as you shove him back when the waiter walks to your table. You grab the shisha's pipe that had been temporarily forgotten on the carpeted floor and grab a tissue to busy yourself while wiping the mouth-tip, unable to meet the waiter’s eye—especially since you noticed his expression as he entered the lounge that was a dead giveaway that he definitely knew what the two of you were doing even though you stopped right as he walked in.

Your messy hair and flushed face most certainly did not help.

He placed the meat platter down along with a plate of the traditional Arabic bread and the condiments.

Exhaling the puff you just took, you turn to him to explain the delicious meal you had laid out in front of you but he was pouting, eyes narrowed as he sighs loudly.

“I still can’t believe you wore your panties,” he stated with annoyance.

“I have literally only skipped wearing it that one time at the Milan club, Baek!” You exclaim with a laugh at his childish pout. “Shut up and listen to me about the meal now.”

You smiled as you saw Baekhyun immediately grab the pink-coloured fizzy drink in the tall glass, sucking on the straw and humming in content at the sweet liquid.

“It’s strawberry mint mojito,” you explain, taking it from him to sip a bit. “It complements the shisha flavour.”

True to the consistent Baekhyun that you knew, if there was one thing that could have him distracted enough to not be groping you—it was food.

There weren't many moments in your life that you remembered or cherished closely in a way that they’re still crystal clear when you recall them again years later.

In fact, you could count them on your hands.

The adrenalin rush you had at the Incheon airport, heart pounding louder in your ears than the intercom announcements about boarding your flight to Paris as you decided to run, once and for all.

The sky as you stepped out of Roissy Airport and looked around Paris for the first time with hardly any money in your pockets but a luggage of scrapbooks filled with designs.

The exact time, location and outfit you were wearing when you got a call from Sylvie’s assistant as she told you that they’d received your portfolio and Madame Sylvie herself was interested to have you as her apprentice.

Seoyeon’s elated expression as she sat beside you when you handed over the signed contract to the Chamber of Commerce in Paris for officially opening your first place of business.

The way you’d practically collapsed as you received an invitation to present your work at your first Paris Fashion Week.

Baekhyun’s gaze at the power room as he stared at you in the dark like he was seeing you for the first time, a look in his eyes that to this day you couldn't describe—the one that changed everything, the gaze that lead to your undoing.

The way you’d burst into happy tears for the first time in your life when Baekhyun had walked back into your hotel room at Paris while you were crying, the way he’d kissed you and you’d felt like you had the sun in your arms.

The way Baekhyun had felt, the way he’d sounded against your chest as he hugged you on the floor of his dorm room while misquoting Frozen after almost two hellish months apart.

And now, as you laughed at Baekhyun's stories of the boys, you stared at him with a heart fuller than your stomach, despite all the kebabs and koftas you’d just had.

This. This right here would go on to be another memory that you’d remember as clear as ever—the sweet smell of the shisha hanging over the two of you, the soft Arabic music that Zahid had left playing in the background, Baekhyun’s sparkling eyes that were prettier than any skyline, his warm lingering touches dancing across your skin, his loud boisterous laugh that you could hear echo heartily around you without fearing anyone else hearing or seeing because you’d been wise enough to finally create a private paradise in a big world that always seemed too small for both of you.

Hours after you’d cleared all the plates on the table and were laughing at his story about Jongin being clumsy again, you both fell into a comfortable silence and your eyes met over the table.

And you knew. So did Baekhyun although you were sure he’d blame the shisha for its ‘buzz’ later.

“Hey,” he said, taking your hand that was atop the table. He stares deeply at you without saying a word and you smile.

“I know,” you reply with a nod, your voice soft. “Me too.”

Baekhyun’s eyes became crescent moons from how hard he grinned at you and you tighten your grip around his fingers, feeling him squeeze back.

My sunshine, mine.

[staygoldponebone]

Sweater Weather

Part Fifteen: Sandy

The next morning was strange. Sandy got outta bed and made breakfast. Usually Evie was already at her house with one of the other girls or with Steve. But today, the living room was empty. The tv wasn't on and she couldn't hear any low chatter. There was just a deafening silence.

Going into the kitchen, she heard quiet whispers. Two people were talking. A male and female. They said her name a couple of times. She didn't know where the whispers were coming from and she was worried. She grabbed a pan from the top shelf of kitchen supplies by the fridge.

Holding it over her head, she pulled open the door that lead to her garage. There was a scream, then Sandy stopped. Evie.

She was standing beside Steve's car, while he was beneath it. She dropped her cigarette on the concrete floor when she jumped at the sight of Sandy with a pan over her head. "What the hell are you doing?!" Evie breathed.

"You scared me! I thought you guys were robbers."

"I wouldn't rob this place if you made me." She says, stepping on her cigarette. "No offense."

Sandy lowered the pan. "Have you guys seen Soda?"

"We stopped by his house, but Darry said he went to work early."

"You wanna drive me over to the DX?"

"Sure."

"You wanna get ready first?" Steve asks, looking Sandy up and down. Sandy noticed her pajamas and nodded, going back into the house.

After getting ready, she got into Steve's car. The ride was silent and Sandy was praying Soda wasn't mad at her.

When she went into the gas station, Soda looked up and smiled. There were a couple of girls at the counter that were flirting with Soda the best they could. He looked really uncomfortable.

Sandy went over. The two girls at the counter gave her dirty looks, then walked away. "Hey, Soda." She greets.

"Hey, Sandy." He came around the counter to hug her. "What're you doing here?"

She pulled away, looking him right in the eye. She was frowning. "I just wanted to tell you that you don't have to stay with me, ok? I don't wanna embarrass you or make you feel like you-"

"Sandy, you could never embarrass me." He smiled. "I was just surprised yesterday. It's no big deal. I'm real happy you're here." Soda grabbed onto Sandy's hands, then kissed them. "I love you."

Sandy suddenly felt sick. She didn't tell him. And no one else did either. All Soda knows is that she's pregnant. He doesn't know the baby's not his. He doesn't know about the party. He doesn't know and she feels bad for not saying anything. She glanced at Steve. He hadn't been happy with her since he found out that it was only her baby not hers and Soda's. She felt panicked.

"Listen, babe. We need to talk, ok?" She felt tears in her eyes.

Soda noticed and nodded. "I'll tell Pete. We can go outside for a few minutes."

He walked to a room in the back and Sandy waited impatiently. She put her hands over her face, then soon enough, Soda was back and he took her outside.

"I'm sorry." Sandy cried. She fell apart, right there. Soda wrapped his arms around her and she buried her face in his shirt.

"What're you sorry for? I mean, it's my baby too." Soda whispered, running his hand through her hair. She only cried harder. Soda didn't understand. "C'mon, San. Talk to me. It's ok."

"I'm scared." She hiccups.

"Of what?"

"You're gonna hate me, Soda. I just know it. After today, you'll think like everybody else. And...I don't blame you."

Soda felt himself stop. He felt his face get hot with anger and he swallowed hard. "What do you mean? What're people thinking?"

"People think I'm a slut. A whore." She shrugged, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter. They're right. I'm awful."

"Is this about yesterday with Steve? Look, he didn't mean it, ok? Don't worry about it, Sandy. He was just-"

"The baby's not yours." She waited. She waited for the anger. She waited for him to cuss her out. To call her every name in the book. She waited for him to scream and yell and tell her to get an abortion. She waited.

But Soda's heart only sank. It was like the weight of the world falling onto his shoulders. He was numb. Confused. Hurt in some ways. He didn't realize he'd taken a step from Sandy, but she didn't seem to care about where they stood physically.

She wanted to know what he thought. What he was thinking. Then he cleared his throat to speak calmly. "What?"

"I'm sorry, Soda. I didn't- I was just- I-I don't know. I'm just sorry. I never meant to do this. I never meant to- to screw up this badly. It was once and I'm so so sorry." She didn't wanna look at him. She was too disappointed in herself. She didn't think she deserve to be standing with him. She didn't think she deserved him.

Soda slowly nodded. "It's ok, Sandy." He wrapped his arms back around her, holding her tightly. "I still love you. I still wanna marry you. I still wanna-"

"Why? Don't you hate me? Don't you want me gone? Like Steve? I'm an awful girlfriend! I don't deserve anything nice. I don't deserve you, Soda!"

Soda's eyes went glossy and he smiled. "We all make mistakes, Sandy. I'm not mad at you. I want you to know that I care about you. And I love you more than anything in this world and I still wanna marry you. And y'know what? I think I'll marry you, then you'll have this baby and we'll all live happily ever after!"

Sandy gave him a sad smile. "That's sweet of you, but I couldn't let you do that."

"Do what?"

"Throw your life away. I'm not that important, Soda."

"What're you talking about? You are important!"

"I don't wanna ruin your life! I know that you're already under a lotta pressure, Soda. If you stay with me, you'll regret it. And how could I live with myself after that, huh? I couldn't."

"Maybe you won't ruin my life! Maybe you'll make it better! This will work out, Sandy, I know it will!" He could feel tears threatening to fall from his eyes and he held Sandy closer. "Please don't leave, Sandy. I'll do whatever it takes. Please."

~ ~ ~ ~

"This is from Angela!" Evie exclaims, handing over a polka-dotted box with big, purple bow.

Sandy took it, opening it carefully. It was a set of baby food. Sandy grinned. "Thanks, Ang."

"You're welcome. Tim says that that's the good kind. Don't ask me how he knows."

"Open this next, Sandy. It's the best gift." Two-Bit states, handing her a gift bag.

She opened it, pulling out all the paper filling. She looked into the bag and smiled. It was filled with a whole bunch of toys. "Thank you."

"Anytime. And don't be afraid to ask me to babysit."

"You should be terrified to ask him to babysit." Kathy argued, leaning over on her boyfriend. She laughed.

"You're just jealous because my gift was better than yours."

"I got her diapers. Babies need diapers, not a bag full of toys. Great job, Santa Claus!"

Sandy laughed at the two, then Darry sat beside her and gave her a bag. Inside was a teddy bear and some of the Curtis brothers' old baby clothes.

"I wasn't sure if you were having a boy or a girl, but if you're having a boy, there are way more of those in our attic." He states.

"Thanks, Darry."

He nodded, then Pony went over with a box. He smiled and set it on her lap. Books.

"What a shocker! Brainiac got the kid books!" Two-Bit exclaimed.

"I'm honestly surprised Kathy didn't give me books." Sandy replied.

Kathy grinned. "I can get you some, if you need me to. I know exactly where the good ones are."

"Me next!" Johnny announced.

He picked up a big box and set it beside Sandy.

"Need a knife?" Evie questions.

All the boys dug down into their pockets. Pony produced his first. Sandy took it with a smile and opened up the box. It was a rocking horse.

"Do you like it? I know that it wouldn't be able to ride it for a while, but I figured it's best to have it now instead of spending your money later..."

"It's fantastic. Thanks, Johnny." Sandy gave Pony his knife back and Johnny took a seat beside Angela.

Sandy started looking around. "Where's Sylvia?"

"Her and Dally are on their way. They forgot the baby shower was today." Evie says, rolling her eyes.

Sandy's front door opened and Steve came in with a cigarette in his mouth. "Ok. My gifts outside." He states.

Sandy got out of her seat, then zipped up her jacket and headed outside. Soda was standing next to a smaller version of Steve's car. "Isn't it cool?!" He shouted.

Sandy grinned and felt tears on her face. She turned to Steve and hugged him. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me. It was your fiance's idea." He said plainly, motioning to Soda.

"I meant for showing up."

He looked at her. He wanted to say that he was there for Soda, not her. But he didn't. Instead, he said "you're welcome."

The three went inside. "So...can we have some cake or do we have to wait for Bonnie and Clyde?" Angela asks.

"Come on. We'll wait a few more minutes, then if they don't show up by then, we'll have cake." Sandy answers.

Right on cue, Dally pulled into the yard. Him and Sylvia jumped out of his car and went into the house. "I see you've fixed your broken window." Dally states.

"My dad fixed it. If you do it again, you'll get your ass beat." Sandy replied.

He was skeptical. "Ok..."

Sylvia handed her a bag. Sandy's eyes widened at the contents. "You don't like it?" Sylvia questions.

"I mean, it was nice of you to give it to me, but I don't-"

"I didn't think it was that bad. Geez, if you don't like the onesie, just say so."

"Sylvia, this isn't a onesie."

Sylvia went over and grabbed the bag. She looked down at the lingerie inside, then laughed. "Wrong bag."

She went back to Dally's car, grabbing a different bag. There was a tiny, blue onesie in it with a bolded font that said 'My mommy is the best.' Sandy smiled. "Yeah, I like this a lot better."

Sylvia laughed, then sat with Dally. "What'd you bring, Dal?" Steve asks.

Dally patted his pockets, then handed over a box of condoms. "There."

"Condoms?" Soda states.

"Yeah. As a reminder to practice safe sex."

The three boys laughed.

"Alright! I need some cake!" Steve announced.

The boys started eating first while the girls talked. No one was expecting the next guest. No one.

~ ~ ~ ~

@darrybutgay. @salladwinston. @mocurlyshepard. @mushrooms-iscat. @illhangyoutwo-bit. @sunique2005. @omni-hamiltrash. @darrycurtisappreciation.

[shield-maiden-of-sherwood]

OC Interview Meme

Not tagged but I got this from @cullywullycake

1. What is your name?

“Lena.”

2. What is your real name?

“Technically it’s Alena but I prefer just Lena.”

3. Do you know why you were called that?

“Um... I don’t really remember. There was this big blast thing that apparently wiped my memories. Had it not been for Josephine’s vast knowledge of noble families, I wouldn’t even know my name.”

*** Lena was named after her mother, Madalena.

4. Are you single or taken?

“Taken. It only took me making suggestive comments for a few months and then almost dying for him to want to be with me but here we are.” [Smirks as Cullen blushes nearby]

5. Have any abilities or powers?

“Um... I have the anchor which allows me to do some pretty cool things. I guess that could be considered my “power”. Otherwise, I’m a pretty good hunter when I’m able to venture off on my own.”

6. Stop being a Mary Sue

”A what? I have a feeling that’s not a good thing, is it?”

7. What’s your eye color?

“Green. Forest green to be more specific.”

8. How about your hair color?

“Like a light-ish medium brown? There might be a specific name for that but nothing is coming to mind.”

9. Have you any family members?

”Um... as far as I know I do.Josie says I’m the youngest daughter in my family and that I have two sisters named Sara and Emely and my father’s name is Ryland Trevelyan. Other than that, I have no memory of anybody else.

10. Oh? What about pets?

“None that I’m aware of. I guess you can say that thanks to Leliana, the Inquisition has birds?”

11. That’s cool I guess, now tell me about something you don’t like.

“I really don’t like being commanded to do things or chided for insignificant things.” [Makes pointed glance at Cullen and Cassandra.]

12. Do you have any hobbies/activities you like doing?  

[Smirks] “Indeed I do. Sex, drinking, playing wicked grace and hunting. Out of those four, I tend to mostly drink and hunt.”

13. Ever hurt anyone before?

[Shrugs] “Technically. I mean, my job description is literally “Kick ass. Take names”.”

14. Ever… killed anyone before?

“Of course. I have enemies everywhere.”

15. What kind of animal are you?

“Hm... that is a very good question.... fox maybe?”

16. Name your worst habits.

[Grins] “Cassandra would say that I drink too much. Josie probably thinks I swear too much around nobles and Cullen definitely thinks I’m too reckless.”

17. Do you look up to anyone at all?

“Anybody who is taller than me.” [laughs and clears throat when nobody else laughs.] “Um... yeah. The Hero of Ferleden is pretty inspiring.”

18. Gay, straight, or bisexual?

“I would have to say bisexual.” [Cullen’s eyes widen from the sidelines. “What?”] “However, while I’m attracted to both men and women, I typically only date men.”

19. Do you go to school?

“Um... No?” [Looks at Josephine for confirmation before nodding] Yep. No I don’t.

20. Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day?

“Um...that’s a tough question.” [Nervous laugh] “Maybe someday?”

21. Do you have any fanboys/fangirls?

“Hm... would having somebody posing as me in Ferleden count? They do say imitation is the highest form of flattery.”

22. What are you most scared of?

[Suddenly looking distant] “Many things. Next question.”

23. What do you usually wear?

“Typically I’m wearing my armor which is lightweight brigandine armor since I need to be protected but still be able to use my bow. otherwise, I like clothes that are loose and don’t constrict me.”

24. Do you love someone?

[blushes and glances at Cullen who smiles] “I can’t say. Next.”

25. When was the last time you wet yourself?

“Hm... I honestly can’t remember. I’ve probably done it at least once while drunk.”

26. Well, it’s not over yet!

“Fantastic.” [groans] Maker....this is long.”

27. What class are you? (High class, middle class, low class)

“According to Josie, I’m of noble birth. My father is the Teyrn of Ostwick.Not entirely sure what that makes me....”

28. How many friends do you have?

”I’d say many. I’ve made many while part of the Inquisition at least.”

29. What are your thoughts on pie?

“Pie is delicious! I’d love some right now... maybe with a nice big cup of wine.”

30. Favorite drink?

[Chuckles with a smirk} Anything alcoholic.

31. What’s your favorite place?

”That’s tough to say. I’ve been to a few places and don’t remember my homeland. I guess I’d have to say... Haven. While it’s no longer around, I liked being able to escape into the valley to hunt. I miss it.”

32. Are you interested in someone?

[smirks] “You can say that.”

33. What’s your bra cup size and/or how big is your willy?

“Well---”

[Cullen stands and strides over[ “That is highly inappropriate!”

“It’s fine, Cullen. Sorry about that. I’d say... maybe the size of...”

[Zevran: “I’d say like small melons.” Lena nods.

“Yeah. Sounds about right. Small melons.” 

[Cullen glares at Zevran who shrugs innocently]

34. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

“Um... I have no preference. Swimming is swimming. Both are cold.”

35. What’s your type?

“My type?”

Yeah. Like in your potential significant other.

“Oh boy....um.... I don’t know. I don’t really have a type I don’t think. I don’t remember any past relationships I may have been in so I have nothing to draw on to figure out a pattern.”

36. Any fetishes?

“Hm...” [smirks as Cullen shifts uncomfortable from nearby] “I really like facial hair, rough sex, wrestling, spanking, I love seeing a man in armor or stripping....”

[Cullen jumps up] “That’s enough! Move on!”

37. Seme or uke? Top or Bottom? Dominant or Submissive?

[Chuckles] Depends on who I’m with. I adapt to my partner.”

38. Camping or indoors?

”While I don’t mind camping while travelling, I definitely prefer inside where its warmer and I can sleep on something other than a cot or a bedroll.”

39. Are you wanting the interview to end?

“I did before but now the questions are getting interesting!” 

[Cullen: “Yes. Wrap it up.”]

40. Now it’s over!

“Damn,” [chuckles] “Well that was fun.”

I’m tagging any of my followers who wants to do this and also @enchantment1385, @bitch-cafe, @ladycremecaramel and @thelionandthelight. I hope you all do it. I can’t wait to see your interviews! lol

Also, if anybdy wants me to do this for Ana, Hawke, or any of my other OCs, let me know. :)

[misakiohayshi]

Rain Doesn’t Just Fall On Sundays

Pt. 2

“You’re a useless, useless, useless child… La la la la, eventually I grew up and left the abuse..”

     I had know idea how I even ended up at this moment in my life. How in the hell did I get to this point?! I quickly but quietly got up out of bed and gathered my clothes from around the room to get dressed. Man, where is my left heel?

     “I can’t believe this,” I mumbled. I sank to the floor. “Here I am, at God knows what hour in the early morning, sitting naked on my boss’ bedroom floor, searching for my clothes after sleeping with him! What the hell?” This was unbelievable. On the edge of breaking down into a hysterical meltdown, I finished finding my things and getting dressed so I could leave as silently as possible, in hopes to not wake up the man I was leaving behind to dream.

     I had spent eight years in college to get a degree in both economics and financial management in hopes to getting a promising job in a big name company. Graduating high school at seventeen and college at twenty five, I finally caught an intern job at a small clothing designer’s company, only to end up a glorified front desk lady who got fired for getting senior worker’s coffee wrong. Desperate to try and get my job back, I was thrown out of my old company’s building and rudely ran into a unsuspecting stranger.

     “I’m so sorry!” I bowed in a low, apologetic manner in hopes to receive forgiveness from the man I just bumped into.

     “It’s quite alright. Are you okay?” The inquiry of my condition was soft and genuine.

     I began to straighten and as I raised my eyes up to gaze at the person in front of me, I found myself shocked speechless at his sheer breath taking appearance. He had smooth, pale skin, perfect enough to make any high school girl jealous, dark chocolate brown eyes that were somehow soft despite their color, rich black hair that was neatly kept but not stiff and perfectly arranged pearly whites that adorned his generous smile. He was tall with a strong build, judging by the way he filled his suit.

     Realizing that I must’ve been staring at this point, I nervously stumbled over my reply, “Yes, T-thank you.”

     His brow crinkled together in worry as he took me by my right arm and helped me stand straight, “You’re not hurt, are you? Why’d they throw you out?”

     “Oh,” how embarrassing, he saw! “I used to work here… I got fired,” I softly uttered.

     “That’s too bad. You seem very competent to me. Why ever would they fire you?”

     “Uh… I’m bad a making coffee?” It was a little uncomfortable telling a stranger why I was fired. It couldn’t have made a good impression.

     “Hahaha, why that’s such a foolish reason to fire someone!” His laugh was light and carefree. “Say, would you like to sit down for coffee with me, miss…?”

     Surprised by the sudden proposal, I stuttered, “S-sure… Uh, ____, nice to meet you,” I bowed, “and you are…?”

     “Yixing, Zhang Yixing,” He gave me a low and respectful bow. “Shall we?”

     “Good morning sir. Here,” I entered Yixing personal office and came around to the left side of his desk, “Your tea and the prep work for the upcoming dinner party for the Russian orphanage fundraiser,” opening the folder I began to go through the pages with him, “You have a meeting with the head representative for the recipients of the turnout today to discuss the organization of the auction portion of the party. At two thirty this afternoon, you are to head down to the charity race you volunteered to help set up. After that, the board members wish to meet before they leave, to close the month and further overlook this past month’s numbers. Now, in regards to the representative, he said he is open any time to meet today, shall I set up for eleven thirty this morning?”

     “That’s fine but I’ll call him. Remind me in about twenty minutes?”

     “Of course, sir,” I bowed and began my exit.

     “____?” He called, glancing up from his paper work.

     “Yes?” I turned to face him.

     “Thank you,” He smiled warmly.

      I returned the gesture, “It’s my pleasure, sir.”

     I have been working for CEO Zhang Yixing for nearly six months now, ever since he hired me over that cup of coffee he had offered me the day I got thrown out at my last job. I honestly couldn’t be happier. He’s extremely fair with my pay and time off as well as my work load. He had appointed me to be his personal secretary so as to help ease the burden of keeping everything straight, for he could be a little scatter-brained sometimes. But I have started to notice a problem that was raising for me personally…

I’ve started to grow fond of him. And not in the admirable, cool-kind-of-boss way. I think the increased amount of time I’ve spent with him at work (especially over others due to being his personal secretary) has caused me to develop a crush for him. Now, naturally, this is completely inappropriate for professional reasons, but also because the man is already taken. Of course, I would never ever impose on his already existing relationship because I have no desire to wedge myself between him and his wife. Not just because I’m not that type of person but also because I actually admire that woman greatly. I have never seen such a loving, supportive and kind partner in my life before, not to mention what a wonderful mother she is to their two year old son. I’m actually quite envious of their seemingly quint family life.

     Ring, ring, ring! Ring, ring, ring!

     “Oh!” the office phone rudely startled me from my thoughts, “CEO Zhang Yixing’s office, _____ speaking, how can I help you today?”

     A cheerful and airy giggle greeted me on the other end, “Hi ____!”

     “Oh, Mrs. Zhang! How are you today?”

     “I’m doing lovely, dear! And please, no need to have formalities with me, how many times much I tell you that? Haha!” She chimed.

     “But I simply must, madam! You are my boss’ wife after all. Anyway, what can I do for you today? Would you like me to patch you through to Mr. Zhang?”

     “Oh, no need for that, I want to surprise him anyways! I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t busy in a meeting or anything first!”

     “No, he’s not doing anything at the moment. He actually should be finished with all of his appointments today,” I informed her.

     “Fantastic! Don’t tell him I’m coming, okay? Keep it a secret for me!”

     I couldn’t help but smile, “Of course, you know I will.”

     “Thank you! Bye bye now!” Click!

     “Taking personal calls, are we?”

     “Ah!” I whipped my head around, “Oh, not at all, sir!”

     He wore a cheeky grin. “Haha, I’m just kidding ____! Here,” He placed a folder on my desk, “The documents you had asked me to review.”

     “Thank you, I will make sure they are filed in the proper records.”

     Just then, the door opened from the elevator lobby, “Hello, ____! Is Yi-” Just then, the Mrs. landed eyes on her husband, who was suddenly making an endearing expression.

     “Ming, you’re here!” He approached her and wrapped his arms around her while kissing her tenderly.

     “Yes! How’s work going, dear?” She teased.

     I was sure to divert my attention to my workload so as not to impose on their moment.

     “As well as it can. ____ certainly makes it easier,” He included.

     “Yes, she’s simply delightful! Thank you for keeping it a secret for me dear,” She called to me.

     “Of course!” I answered with a smile in my voice.

     “So that’s what the called was about?” Yixing laughed.

     I only giggled in response.

     “Are you ready to go? I dropped your boy off at grandma’s for the night…” The Mrs. whispered mischievously

     Yixing’s eyes lit up, “If you are. _____, you don’t have to file those this evening. It can be done tomorrow.”

     “But, sir-”

     “Ah, what’s the first rule?” He cocked his brow at me.

     I sighed, defeated, “No buts.”

     “That’s right. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” After that, he left with his wife, to enjoy the evening together I would assume.

     I was really tempted to stay anyway and file those documents, but not wanting overtime against my boss who asked me to go home, I chose to pack up and leave.

    “Ugh…” I rolled over in bed and groaned at the clock. I can’t sleep.

Deciding to get up since I wasn’t loudly snoring any z’s, I entered the kitchen and pulled out a beer to settle on the couch with. I absentmindedly flipped through the channels before settling on a cliche Korean drama. I quickly found myself not really paying attention to it and dosing off. Hmm, I wonder if Yixing and his wife had a good time…

     “But I love you, lao—”

     “No, we can’t! My father forbid us!”

     “I don’t care, I’ll never….”

     “____? Are you alright?”

     “Oh, I’m sorry sir. It’s just the weather didn’t say it would rain today. I thought it said Sunday, not Wednesday,” I trailed off as I stared out the window.

     “Hmm, maybe they mixed it up.”

     “Perhaps,” Turning back to the paperwork in front of us, I continued, “The board would like to meet about the donation you proposed to the children’s hospital in town. They are worried it is not timely due to it being close to the end of the month.”

     “But I thought we already met about the numbers a couple weeks ago,” he practically whined.

     “Yes, but that was three weeks ago,” I laughed. “Come now, it’s not for long.”

     “Alright,” he sighed. He got up from his seat as I gathered his necessary spread sheets to take to the board room. It only took me a few minutes to gather everyone and set up. “Anything else you’ll need from me, sir?”

     “No, that will be all. Thank you,” he took his seat.

     I felt a little bad, lounging at my desk, not doing anything. Since I didn’t have any other work until my boss finished his board meeting, all that was left for me to do was to sit and wait. They should be done soon. It has almost been an hour, I thought.

     Ring, ring, ri-!

     “Hello, CEO Zhang Yixing’s office, ____ speaking, how ca-”

     “Is Mr. Zhang available right now?” The man on the other end sounded impatient.

     “No, I’m afraid not at the moment. He’s currently in a meeting,” I attempt to cover the annoyance in my voice.

     “I must speak with him right away! It’s important!”

     “I’m sorry, sir, but I cannot interrupt his meeting. If you’d like, I can take a message for you and be sure he get back to you afterwards.”

     “No, he needs to leave right now!” This time, he sounded outright panicked.

     “Sir, may I ask what the matter is?” I started to grow concerned.

     BANG!

     Yixing’s head shot up in surprise at the door, “____, what the- What’s gotten into you?”

     I gasped for air, “It’s your wife-!”

Yeah, I’M BACK BITCHES!!!! God, it’s been so long. I’m about to make this story a lot worse before it gets better, but it will get better, I promise!

[dreamingjustice-blog]

Part 6: The Family

Marshal nearly startled when Dogamy’s horse came to a stop. The city was thick with life this far in, people coming and going from all directions, and his growling stomach wasn’t making it easier to focus. 

“We’re here.” Amy said, dismounting. He turned to give Marshal a hand getting down, then walked around the horse to do the same with Dogaressa. 

The Boss Monster rubbed his head, looking around. The house was fairly close to the center plaza-area, and they’d been riding for what had to be an hour. He’d noticed a trend with the houses- each had a fairly unique emblem painted beside the door, with the same official-looking symbol painted above it. He’d been in enough of a haze that he forgot to ask about them, but Amy put his hand on this one for a moment.

From within the house, a soft chime sounded. Marshal tilted his head, peering past Amy at the door, and when it swung open he found himself staring at a human woman in a dark green woven dress. She wore leather gloves, kept her graying hair tied up into a ponytail, and had green eyes that sparkled in the sunlight, shining out of her dark-skinned face.

“Amy and Ressa!” She exclaimed, stepping forward and giving Amy an enthusiastic hug. “It’s been ages!”

“Desi!” Amy barked a laugh, hugging his friend back. “It really has! It’s so good to see you!”

“Yes!” Ressa waved, tying the horses before coming over to join in the hug. “You look absolutely fantastic.”

“Well, the kids keep me young. And look at you two! Your fur looks great. Nice to see they’re not working you too hard.” Desi grinned. “And what’s this behind you? One of the royals?”

Marshal’s eyes widened, and he avoided her gaze. “Er. I, uh.”

“It’s a bit of a story.” Ressa interjected. “Marshal, this is Desirée Comeaux. Desi, this is Marshal. May we come in?”

“Now listen here, Marshal.” Desi said, hands on her hips. Her face turned stern, but her eyes didn’t lose their shine. “There are two rules afore you come into my house.”

“Ma’am?” Marshal said, reflexively. 

“First, you call me Desi. ‘less you’re family, then you call me that or maman. I ain’t never been a ‘ma’am’ and I never will be.”

“Yes’m. Er, yes, Desi.” Marshal said, his cheeks getting warm. He glanced helplessly to the two dogs, but their grins offered him no respite from Desi’s stare.

“Second, you enter here, you don’t leave without a smile.” Desi said. Her features softened, and she offered a warm smile to the poor Boss Monster. “You best promise, boy.”

“I promise, I won’t leave without a smile.” Marshal said. He bit his cheek lightly to keep the ‘ma’am’ from popping out, and wondered where that habit came from.

“Then y’all are free to enter.” Desi said, stepping inside and sweeping her arm in a gesture of welcome. The Dogi each patted Marshal on the shoulder, and then entered together, tails wagging in unison. 

Marshal stepped up to the door, and finally met Desi’s eyes. She nodded to him, and he felt a warmth behind his scar. Unlike before, it was a pleasant sort of warmth, comforting on a level he didn’t understand. Reminding himself not to think so damn much, he walked inside.

The Comeaux household was roomier on the inside than it appeared on the outside. Perhaps that was because they had carved it into the rock, but Marshal had a weird feeling that there was more to it than that. Nothing about Kin haalʼá had been predictable so far, although he had no way to be sure how much of that was his amnesia and how much was the city itself. 

The door led directly into a room with several comfortable-looking chairs, more than a few toys scattered throughout. The Dogi followed Desi to an adjacent doorway, then glanced back at Marshal.

“Hey, you mind waiting out here?” Amy asked, with a slight frown. “It’s just, sensitive stuff we need to talk about.”

“Yes, and you must be worn out from the day you’ve had so far.” Ressa said. “Sit down, relax for a while, okay?”

Marshal nodded, taking a seat and rubbing his eyes. He couldn’t explain it, but he certainly did feel like he’d been through hell. Maybe it had something to do with the source of his memory loss, he reasoned. His tail flicked nervously on the chair beside him, and he let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes.

Once the Dogi and Desi had left the room, he decided to simply rest. This lasted all of three minutes before a small finger prodded his shoulder, and he jumped, yellow light flaring from his hands.

Before he had a chance to figure out what the hell that was all about, his eyes fell on the source of the disturbance- a young monster, maybe six or seven years old. The kid wore a woven knee-length skirt and a plain shirt over white feline fur. Her eyes were wide and wondering, her pupils as big as saucers.

Thank goodness he didn’t yell. Marshal took a couple of deep breaths, staring at the kid and making a concentrated effort to calm down. 

“’re you a prince?” The kid asked, suddenly.

“Wha?” Marshal asked, then shook his head. “Er. No, I don’t think so.”

“Y’don’ think so?” The kid’s mouth quirked, her tail swishing in thought. “How come y’don’ know?”

“Can’t remember.” Marshal said. “I’m just Marshal. What’s your name?”

“Blanche.” The kid said, and stood up on the arm of the chair, hands on her hips proudly. “Blanche Comeaux. M’six! M’gonna be in the guard when I grow up!”

“Oh yeah?” Marshal smiled. “Like Amy and Ressa, right?”

“Yup!” Blanche said. “They said they’s gonna teach me how ta be a super tough guard! An’ maman said m’allowed!”

“You’re gonna do a great job.” Marshal said. “You snuck up on me really well already.”

Blanche giggled, hopping down and nodding. “Yup! I do it t’my bro all the time.”

“Bro?” Marshal settled back into the chair. “What’s a bro?”

“Means brother!” Blanche said, her tail swishing again. “You dunno that either?”

“I don’t remember a lot.” Marshal said. “Is that okay?”

“Guess so.” Blanche said. “Y’need me t’teach y’stuff!”

Marshal smiled again. “That’d be nice. Why’d you ask if I was a prince?”

“’cause you look like you should be.” Blanche said. “Like th’ King an’ Queen. I thought y’might be a Dreemurr.”

The Boss Monster’s head buzzed again, and he closed his eyes for a moment. Dreemurr. What was it about that name? Surely, he wasn’t somehow related- if someone so important as that had gone missing, he figured Undyne wouldn’t have even bothered to check the Gatehouse. But something about it bugged him, something on the edge of his mind...

“Sis!” Exclaimed a new voice, a boy’s this time. A twelve year old human boy stepped around the corner and scooped up Blanche, wearing a similar shirt and rough-worn pants. He had Desi’s dark skin and hair, and the same sparkling emerald eyes. “You bugging someone? I’m real sorry, mi...ster....”

The boy trailed off, and Marshal blinked. Just like Blanche, his eyes had gone wide, and he had the same wondering stare that people on the street did when they saw the Boss Monster riding by. 

“It’s- it’s okay.” Marshal said, and his cheeks again grew warm. “She and I were just talking. She wasn’t any trouble.”

“Yeah!” Blanche said, wriggling in his grip. He wasn’t so much bigger than her that he could hold her through this even if he wasn’t awestruck by Marshal’s appearance, and she slipped free and darted around the corner to hide from her brother.

“Are you-” The boy started, then shook his head. “Er. Well. My name’s Jean Comeaux, and- you, uh-”

“I’m not.” Marshal said, and couldn’t stop his tail from performing an agitated little wiggle. “Honest. My name’s Marshal, and I’m here with Dogamy and Dogaessa. That’s all.”

“Sorry.” Jean rubbed the back of his neck. “You just, you know, you look- anyway. How come Amy and Ressa are here?”

“Me.” Marshal said, and leaned back in the chair, letting his head roll back against it. “I lost my memory. I guess Desi can help, so we’re here.”

“Maybe she’s seen you before, yeah.” Jean said, starting to pace. “That’s super weird, though. Someone like you-”

Marhsal cleared his throat.

“-but it’s true! You’re- I never thought I’d even meet someone like you!” Jean said. “E-even just getting to talk to you is super cool! ‘cause we’ve been studying magic, and Royal Boss Monster magic is supposed to be super powerful and unique to each one, and-”

“Jean Comeaux!” Desi said, emerging from the side room like a sudden storm. “Are you harassin’ this poor boy?”

“Maman!” Jean exclaimed, and immediately retreated for the hallway. “I was jus’-”

“You was just about to apologize, is what you was just!” Desi said, planting a finger on Marshal’s muzzle to shush him before he could protest.

“Oooh, you’re in trouuuble!” Blanche giggled from around the corner, then squeaked in surprise when Desi took a step her way.

“Blanche Comeaux, you get your tail out here an’ apologize to the boy, too!” She commanded. Both children lined up in front of Marshal, despite the Boss Monster’s flustered expression, and bowed their heads in unison.

“Mo chagren! Very sorry!” They said, then scampered away to avoid further motherly attention.

Desi let out a long breath, then shook her head. “Those kids. They get it from their father, y’know. Never stop’n think before talkin’ up a storm.”

“It was honestly fine.” Marshal offered, meekly. “I think I just need to get used to it. Being- you know- rare and unique.”

“Whatever else you may be,” Desi said, crouching down to eye level with the sitting monster, “In this house, you’re Marshal Comeaux. Ain’t no boy with no memory goin’ to have no family either, not on my watch.”

“You- wait, what?” Marshal asked, sitting up straight again. “How- do you really mean-”

“What I mean,” Desi said, reaching forward to place a hand on Marshal’s own. “Is what I say. I know what it feels like, bein’ without anyone to turn to. ‘specially bein’ alone down here, it’s- bad. Wasn’t for Amy and Ressa, I’d prob’ly have given up after I fell down from th’ topside.”

Marshal stared into Desi’s eyes. After a moment, he turned his hand upward, wrapping his fingers around hers and holding on tight. 

“My husband’ll be happy t’have you. Lord knows, we’ve got a room empty. The dogs explained everything. I may not have seen you afore, but you are not a stranger in this house. From today on, y’have family here. My husband and I’ve got you, even once y’start rememberin’. No matter what y’learn, or who y’might be, I’m callin’ you my son, no arguin’.” 

A spark of green arced up Marshal’s arm, rippling out from Desi’s fingers. The warmth it sent through him was too much, on top of the sudden rush of emotion, and he pulled himself forward to wrap her in a hug. He buried his tear-filled eyes against her dress, hiccuping out a sob. 

After all of the mystery and craziness, to hear all this, to be treated as a person who is instead of one who was to such an extreme, to be given so much love... it was like the wall he’d been trying to hold back his fears and anxiety with suddenly broke, and he was letting it all out. Desi held him as he sobbed out his feelings, his worry about who he might be, the ‘other’-ness of being something so rare and prized, the overwhelming life and magic of the city. He gripped her dress, and she rubbed his back, reaching up under his poncho to let the warmth of her skin reach through the shirt and touch his fur. 

The pair stayed that way for fifteen full minutes. At some point, her husband- a fire elemental monster named Feumé whose flames burned a gentle blue- returned from work. The Dogi corralled him into the kitchen to explain, then the trio went to keep the kids busy on Feumé’s suggestion, recognizing that Marshal probably didn’t want extra witnesses while he worked through this. Desi hummed a song from her homeland, back in Louisiana, and rocked the boy gently in her strong arms. 

Finally, Marshal slipped into a quiet sleep. Desi wiped his tear-streaked cheek fur, then reached down and hefted him into her arms, still humming. 

The spare room would take time to set up, and there was plenty of furniture missing. Instead, she carried him into her bedroom, gently removing his poncho and shirt and folding them on a chair near the door. She laid him on the bed and pulled the sheet up over him, running her fingers through his hair once. 

Upon her return to the family room, she met Feumé and the Dogi. Desi crossed her arms at the two dogs, blocking their way to the door, and shook her head. 

“Absolutely not.” She said. “Y’all are stayin’. I’m makin’ a double batch of my special jambalaya to welcome the boy, and y’all are eatin’ it too for bringin’ him. If Undyne has a problem, she can come tell it t’me. Ain’t nobody, nobody, ruinin’ that boy’s homecomin’ feast. If y’all want to help, I have an idea...”

And as she spoke, so it was. When Marshal finally woke from a fitful dream that he couldn’t remember, it was to the smell of meat and spices and vegetables. His nose dragged his paws out of bed, and he half-sleepwalked his way to the kitchen to discover Desi, the Dogi, Feumé, Blanche, and Jean sitting at a table waiting for him. An impressively large pot- perhaps more of a cauldron- stood in the center of the table, filled to the brim with a jambalaya that could surely have been served in the heavens. 

Whether or not he was royalty, Marshal ate like a king that night. He laughed for the first time, a full belly laugh, when Feumé and Desi shared a story about the festival dance that brought them together. Jean introduced him to the concept of magic, in particular magic as a science, by recounting the teacher’s demonstration that had created a rainbow which smelled like fruit. Blanche challenged him, once they were all good and full, to a game of chase that wore the two of them out thoroughly. 

Marshal helped get the kids- no, he thought, my little brother and sister- tucked into bed, yawning the whole time. Feumé wrapped an arm around his shoulders, a bright-blue grin on his fiery face. 

“C’mon, kiddo.” He crackled. “This way.”

The Dogi had been busy while Desi was cooking. The room had a plush fake-fur carpet that felt wonderfully soft as Marshal stepped onto it. A dresser made of fresh wood, a twin bed that was blessedly long enough for Marshal’s lanky legs, and a closet that surely hadn’t actually been built into that wall before. On the nightstand there was a small bowl of herbs that smelled absolutely wonderful to the boy’s sensitive nose, a handwritten letter with ‘Amy and Ressa, for Marshal’ written on it, and a paper-wrapped box. 

Marshal fell into the bed wordlessly, his jaw slack. After a long moment, he turned to Feumé, who was standing in the door with a proud smile.

“For... me? All this?” The boy asked. 

“Of course.” Feumé said. He leaned on the doorframe, flames sparking gently. “No child of mine deserves anything less than the best. Ressa and Amy helped, too. The crystal there by the bed lights up when you touch it, if the dark bothers you too much. I’ll teach you how to control how bright it gets tomorrow. Right now, how about you get some more sleep, okay, kiddo?”

“Th- thank you.” Marshal said, quietly. Feumé nodded, then turned and left, closing the door but not latching it behind him.

The boy turned, picking up the envelope and opening it. 

Marshal,

Amy and I are so happy that you’ve got a home now. No matter where your memories come from, or who you might be, you’ve got a family here and friends at the Southern Gatehouse. 

To make sure you don’t ever forget that, we left you a special little present. It’s got a few other secrets- you can get messages through it, and talk to people, which should come in handy- but it’s mostly there to help you stay grounded. 

We’ll be back in a week to check in on you. Remember, you’re more than some special Boss Monster that people are surprised to see, and you’re not some empty person without your memories. You’re Marshal Comeaux, and you’re the friend of the Dog Guards. 

Good luck,

Amy and Ressa

Marshal wiped his eyes, folded the letter carefully, and set it back on the nightstand. He opened the box gently, and gasped at what he found.

Inside was a golden locket in the shape of a heart, attached to a leather necklace. Upon opening it, Marshal gasped again. Somehow, the Dogi had managed to get a picture of the entire group assembled at the dinner table at the very moment Marshal started to laugh. His family, the family that had taken him in, all looked so happy. 

He shut the locket again, slipping it around his neck and taking a deep breath. 

Marshal Comeaux. He had to admit, it sounded nice in his head. He laid back and closed his eyes, one hand resting on the locket and the bone charm nestled in his chest fur, and let sleep take him. 

This time, he had a smile on his face as he drifted away.

[illusivegore]

Gore Reviews Tomb Raider

Release Date: March 5, 2013 Platforms: Microsoft Windows, OS X, Linux, PlayStation 3, PlayStation 4, Xbox 360 (reviewed), Xbox One

Note: This review only includes thoughts on the single player experience.

Tomb Raider is a franchise that I’ve never been particularly fond of. I’ve played a few games in the series and they weren’t bad, but the tongue-in-cheek nature of those games and the way Lara Croft was portrayed was something that always put me off. This lack of interest quickly changed when the reboot of Tomb Raider was announced though. To take this not-so-serious franchise and turn it into a brutal and gritty story of survival was an ambitious idea, but was the follow through on this idea a stellar feat or something best left to rot deep inside a cold, dark forest?

Tomb Raider at its core has always been about Lara Croft and this version is no different. This time around, Lara is on an expedition in search of the lost kingdom of Yamatai and sets out on the ship, Endurance. She is joined by a variety of crew members, most of which are working toward documenting whatever is found during the trip for some sort of television program. Things quickly take a turn for the worse as the group enters the dangerous waters of the Dragon’s Triangle and end up shipwrecked. Soon after washing up on shore, many within Lara’s group are abducted by members of a violent cult known as the Solarii Brotherhood. This leaves Lara in a fight to not only survive and escape these psychopaths, but also to find her friends and a way off of the island.

The story of Tomb Raider is decent enough, but isn’t going to blow your socks off. I didn’t find it all that compelling, yet it did a nice job of moving the game along from point to point and was paced very nicely. While the overall narrative was nothing too spectacular, the development of Lara Croft as a character was a highlight of the game. Seeing her go from confused, timid and just doing whatever she could to survive to a complete badass is something I won’t soon forget. She witnesses and experiences some incredibly disturbing things throughout, so getting to see her persevere and come out stronger was an amazing journey. In the beginning she lacked confidence and had to reassure herself of everything she did, but by the end of the game she was screaming things like “You better run, because I’m coming for you all!“ and “Die you son of a bitch!” and I was right there cheering on those sentiments. Not often does a game come along that produces a character that I truly care about and the fact that it happened in a Tomb Raider game (after the joke that Lara Croft had become thanks to previous titles) is something that should be applauded.

Story and character development aside, Tomb Raider solely as a gameplay experience is incredible. Like games in the franchise before it, most of your time will be spent exploring the mysterious island you’ve washed up on. During this exploration you’ll be tasked with doing a lot of platforming in order to maneuver around the environment and not only is it intuitive and seamless, but it remains enjoyable throughout the game. In Tomb Raider, the platforming stays fresh throughout thanks to a variety of new tools and abilities you acquire. For instance, you’ll use your axe to climbs certain craggy walls and you’ll use a bow and arrows to create rope lines that allow you to reach new areas. In some ways this progression feels a bit like a Metroid or Castlevania game (in the vaguest sense) and when you begin to string together all of these skills you’ve learned, the platforming is an absolutely joyful experience.

With exploration comes collecting and there are a ton of items to find in Tomb Raider. Relics, documents and GPS caches serve as your main collectibles, each of which add to the game’s lore (relics and documents a little more so than the GPS caches). Some you’ll find just playing through the game and others will take a little more work to locate. Luckily, there are treasure maps that can also be found that will help point you in the right direction, if you so desire to collect them all. There are also numerous challenges to complete (each unique to a specific location), but most just boil down to finding certain items in the environment and collecting or destroying them. These can add to your play time, but I found I wasn’t as keen on completing these as I was collecting the other items.

Also sort of lumped into the collection aspect of Tomb Raider are various optional tombs you can find during the course of the game. Each one has a unique feel and design and all were nice distractions well worth their rewards, but these tombs did leave a little to be desired. Each tomb is rather easy to find (thanks to blatant signs within the game) and perhaps just as easy to complete. Once in an optional tomb you’ll face a small puzzle and then you get your reward (more on these later). A little more challenge would have been nice since these are optional, but completing each tomb is still a fun experience and well worth your time.

Much like the tombs, a majority of Tomb Raider’s puzzles fall into the simplistic category, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. The puzzles, much like the platforming, are presented in such a way that solving them is not only intuitive, but they also keep the game moving along at a steady pace. That’s not to say there weren’t a couple that had me scratching my head, even if just momentarily. Thankfully, should you happen to find yourself stumped at any point (which shouldn’t happen very often), the game offers up “Survival Instincts” mode, which helps you identity objects that can be interacted with in the environment. This is completely optional, but is a nice tool if you happen to find yourself in a bit of a pickle.

While exploration and puzzle solving is where you’ll see most of your time invested, a good chunk of gameplay is devoted to combat. The combat in Tomb Raider is a lot of fun and works well when it is used sparingly, but when it starts to become the focus and you have enemies attacking you from multiple directions, it begins to suffer a bit. In most cases you can take a stealth approach and systematically take down your foes, but there are some sections where that simply isn’t an option and these can make for a frustrating experience. Although these situations only popped up on a couple of occasions and shouldn’t be something that has you questioning whether or not to play Tomb Raider, they can momentarily take you out of the experience and might take a few (frustrating) attempts to overcome.

The combat of Tomb Raider revolves mostly around four weapons: bow, pistol, rifle and shotgun. While most of your encounters will probably be handled using your bow, each of these weapons eventually becomes useful and can be upgraded with salvage that you loot from slain enemies or animals and scattered throughout the environment. You’ll also need to find parts for each weapon in order to perform some of the upgrades, but these are a little harder to find and seemingly drop at random times (or upon completing an optional tomb). Unlike some other games, weapons in Tomb Raider actually look and feel significantly different and more powerful as they are upgraded. Upgrades offer everything from increased damage to new ammo types, which isn’t too shabby considering you’re basically fixing them with random garbage you find.

Whenever you defeat an enemy, take down and loot an animal, complete an objective, or finish an optional tomb you’ll also earn experience points and as you acquire more and more XP you’ll be able to unlock special skills in three different categories: Survivor, Hunter and Brawler. Survivor abilities will help you gain more salvage and find tombs and collectibles more easily. With the Hunter skill set you’ll be able to focus on mastering your weapons and, finally, the Brawler abilities put emphasis on hand-to-hand combat skills. Some of these skills are more useful than others, but to get that instant feeling of gratification for each and every thing you do in the game is indeed satisfying.

Once you finish up the game there isn’t a traditional new game plus mode, but you will be able to go back and visit areas of the island in order to wrap up any loose ends you might have. This is done by using various campsites found throughout the game. These campsites not only let you fast travel to other areas, but they are also where you’ll assign your skill points and upgrade your weapons. While having the option to go back and upgrade your weapons completely, unlock all skills, finish each challenge and find every collectible and optional tomb is a welcome feature, some of these aspects can become a bit of a grind towards the end. Once you start going back to previous areas, enemies will spawn infrequently, making it somewhat tough to acquire all of the salvage you’ll need for weapon upgrades (I had to resort to killing deer and rabbits to get my last few hundred salvage). Luckily, XP is a little easier to amass by simply completing sets of relics or documents and finishing challenges. One thing I can say is that even though it got a little tedious near the end, I still felt compelled to go back and find every little thing I could, which I can rarely say about a game.

Tomb Raider not only reinvents Lara Croft as a character and makes her someone people can relate to and care about, but it’s also a damn fantastic game. The combat stumbles in certain spots, but only slightly and never in a way that has a lasting effect on your experience. Outside of that one small issue, Tomb Raider offers up an absolutely amazing experience. If I had to describe it in just one word, it’d be “fun”, and honestly, that’s all I really ask for from the games I play. If you’re even the slightest bit curious about reboot of the Tomb Raider franchise, I highly recommend you give it a shot because it is one of the best games I’ve played in years.

Score: 5 out of 5

[misssugarpinkshome]

omg that sans and reader was so good! i hope ur feeling better. would a Papyrus X male reader be good? If requests aren't open then sorry :(((

Requests are open and I plan for them to remain open! I am feeling so much better. I never actually get many requests, so these little fics are just sorta little balloons of happiness for me. I tried something new in this one and I hope you’ll all forgive me if I messed up some details! I tried to do my research, and I’ve also never written a Papyrus ship before. I hope you like the fic (under the cut!), and thank you for the request!

You were, admittedly, just a bit nervous.

When you first met your date for the evening, you were fairly certain he was ace. Or maybe that he didn’t know what a dick was? His only focus had been the dogs gnawing on his legs. At first, the sight had both shocked and alarmed (and, okay, you would admit it, made your heart sigh from adorableness). But, well, the skeleton said it was only natural for dogs to want to eat his legs, as he was made of bones.

You had only gone into the pet store that day in order to get food for Pebbles, your rambunctious 11 month old Pomsky. Imagine your surprise when you saw a line wrapping around the store on adoption day, not just to adopt some dogs, but to see the skeleton caretaker that was wrangling them all.

You had shared a nice conversation with the skeleton, learning that his name was Papyrus (well, more like “THE GREAT AND VERY GOOD WITH DOGS PAPYRUS”) and that he had just gotten the job that day. Evidently, the person who had been overseeing the adoptions that day had gotten very sick. “AS THE UNOFFICIAL OFFICIAL MASCOT FOR MONSTERKIND, IT IS MY DUTY TO BE AN UPSTANDING CITIZEN AND HELP THESE PUPS IN NEED!” He had said. “BESIDES - I LOOKED AFTER MANY DOGS IN THE UNDERGROUND. THESE PUPPIES ARE MUCH EASIER, AS THEY DO NOT HAVE KNIVES. OR AXES. OR SWORDS.”

You had laughed for awhile after that, sharing those laughs with the energetic man. You only realized how long the conversation went when your phone alarm went off, telling you to get your butt home to walk Pebbles before the night shift. You explained to Papyrus that you were essentially a helper in the cafeteria at the nearby college, letting students into the cafeteria via swipes of their card. Papyrus was absolutely enthralled by the idea. “WOWWIE! YOU ARE LIKE A FOOD GUARDIAN!”

You exchanged numbers - “YOU MUST MEET MY BROTHER SANS. HE TOO LIKES FOOD AND ALSO ME, WHICH MEANS YOU WILL GET ALONG VERY WELL!” - and said your goodbyes. All through your shift that night, you and Papyrus texted back and forth; he sent you so many dog pictures that day. You made sure to send him some of Pebbles.

And now, 2 months later, after Undyne, Alphys, and even Sans - yeah, even the overprotective brother of Papyrus - had egged you on and pushed you and told you to take the chance, you had finally asked Papyrus on a date.

And, to your surprise, he had agreed.

You straightened your bow tie, gulping. Did you look ridiculous? You never wore fancy suits. There hadn’t really been an occasion for it in the past, after all. But, well, you had really wanted to dress up for Papyrus. It seemed fitting. Er, more so than the bow tie did - that is to say, it really didn’t fit very well.

But it was too late to take it off. Here you were, outside of Papyrus’s house. You’d been here before, of course, but that had been under different circumstances. Now, you licked your lips nervously before knocking lightly.

The door swung open quickly, startling you slightly. “HELLO, HUMAN FRIEND!” You blinked, gaping at Papyrus. His irises sparkled. “WOWWIE… YOU LOOK VERY NICE. I HAVE NEVER SEEN YOU LOOK SO FANCY!”

You smiled, albeit a bit awkwardly. “I, uh… You look… different?” You weren’t sure what else to say about his new outfit. You were used to him wearing handmade sweaters and skinny jeans that clung to his bones. But today, he was wearing very loose short shorts that showed off the tips of his pelvis, a crop-top with the words “Bad Girl” crossed out - under it was written, in large marker, ‘GREAT BOY’ - and basketballs attached to his shoulders. He also had a baseball cap on backwards.

“IS DIFFERENT GOOD?”

“Well, I like you no matter what you wear, Papyrus. I think you look fantastic.” He squealed happily, bouncing on his feet. That was definitely cute. “Can I come in?”

“OH! YES, PLEASE, COME IN!” Papyrus held the door open for you, letting you inside. You could smell something in the kitchen. “I WOULD NOT WANT YOU TO FEEL COLD OUTSIDE!”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound too nice.” You glanced at the couch, smiling as you saw Sans stand up, dusting himself off. “Hi, Sans.”

“heya. have fun, you two. don’t stay up too late, paps.”

“OF COURSE I WON’T, SANS! I AM NOT AT ALL IRRESPONSIBLE. I WON’T STAY UP UNTIL 2 IN THE MORNING LIKE SOME SKELETONS!”

“what can i say - i was just two full of energy to get to sleep.”

“SAAAAAAAANS! NO PUNS IN FRONT OF MY DATE!” You couldn’t help but laugh, relaxing a tiny bit despite the tension from nervousness in you. Sans winked as he saw you relax. He was a pretty good brother, making you feel more relaxed for this date.

“alright. ulna-t bother you two anymore. have a good night.” You blinked, and he was gone.

Papyrus sighed. “I AM SORRY ABOUT HIM. HE WOULDN’T PROMISE ME TO KEEP HIS PUNS AWAY FROM OUR DATE. HOW DISAPPOINTING.”

“It’s alright Papyrus.” You sniffed; it smelled good. “What’s that you’ve got cooking?”

His spirits seemed to brighten instantly. “OH! WHY, HUMAN, IT IS MY FAVORITE AND BEST RECIPE FOR SPAGHETTI! ONLY THE BEST FOR MY DATE TONIGHT! HERE!” He held out his hands for you. “I WILL REMOVE YOUR COAT, SIR!”

You couldn’t help but giggle a bit at that, slipping out of your blazer. Honestly, it had been a little warm in the outfit - and, well, probably because of Papyrus’s outfit, you had felt a little overdressed. You were going to have to teach your boy about proper dating outfits.

‘Your boy’, you repeated in your head, feeling a soft blush rise to your cheeks as he hung up your coat. When had you started thinking of him that way?

“AND NOW, LET US EAT TOGETHER! AND THEN WE SHALL COMMENCE WITH THE DATE FURTHER!” Papyrus chatted away as he walked into the kitchen; you felt compelled to follow him, even if you hadn’t wanted to in the first place. He was just… God, his entire personality was so good. He was energetic, kind, and most of all, he just… believed so strongly in everything. In himself, in his friends…

In you.

It was like everything he said was made specifically to get you through your day, and even better, to do it with a smile. You’d never met someone quite as… optimistic as him. You couldn’t help but just be happy with him.

You felt your heart pound and, unlike the other times you had thought you’d felt that feeling, this time… it was surprisingly nice.

You both chatted absently through the (surprisingly tasty) dinner. He had definitely been practicing - either that, or Sans had secretly made dinner himself so that the date would go off without a hitch. You chose to believe the first idea, however. “God, Paps, that was delicious,” you said, wiping your mouth on a napkin. You’d been raised to be polite, after all, and you didn’t want to talk with spaghetti stains all over your face.

Papyrus blushed lightly, looking away. “WOWWIE… ANOTHER GENUINE COMPLIMENT.” You tilted your head softly. Something seemed different about him. “YOU ARE VERY KIND, HUMAN!” He sounded almost… you couldn’t really fit a word to it. Distracted? Lost in thought? Almost…

Dejected?

“Paps? What’s wrong?”

“W-WHAT? OH! NOTHING, HUMAN! ABSOLUTELY NOTHING IS WRONG WITH THE GREAT PAPYRUS, MASTER OF DATING AND ALSO OF BEING ABSOLUTELY FINE AND NOT-WRONG.”

You sighed softly, a tender smile taking to your lips. God, this goofball was incapable of lying. “Papyrus, you don’t need to lie to me. I don’t want you to! Now, what’s wrong?”

He shifted uneasily in his seat, blush worsening. “W-WELL… I HAVE ONLY BEEN ON ONE OTHER DATE BEFORE, AND… WELL. I AM NOT POSITIVE HOW WELL IT WENT. AND THIS DATE IS QUITE A BIT LIKE THAT DATE EXCEPT IT FEELS WEIRD AND DIFFERENT TOO?”

Weird? Different? Wait, Papyrus dated someone else before? You had been almost certain this innocent fluffball didn’t know what dating really was until you had asked him out. “Well… Why don’t we talk about it? That usually helps me feel better. Maybe it’ll help.”

“BUT HUMAN! THIS IS YOUR NIGHT! I COULD NEVER DISTRACT FROM YOUR FEELING GOOD WITH MY FEELING WEIRDLY GOOD!” You couldn’t resist a small chuckle at his wording. “I DO NOT WANT TO RUIN TONIGHT!”

“Papyrus… You wouldn’t be ruining my night. I like talking to you. And if that would make… er… whatever is bothering you go away, well, nothing would make me happier.”

“OH? WELL THEN…” Paps quickly stood, a determined look in his sockets. “IF THAT IS THE CASE, THEN THE GREAT PAPYRUS MUST TELL YOU WHAT IS AFFECTING HIM!”

You laughed at the look on his (still spaghetti stained) face. “First, let’s clean up. We can talk in the living room.”

Together, you tidied up, cleaning around each other in the kitchen. You kept accidentally bumping into Papyrus’s side - it was a pretty small kitchen, after all. Neither of you seemed to mind or notice. You also pointed out that Papyrus had spaghetti stains on his face. He was extremely embarrassed, but also was able to laugh about it a bit. It was a nice laugh - no matter how many times you heard it, it still made you laugh along.

After that, you both moved into the living room. Once again, Papyrus quickly looked just… off. He was still blushing as well, you noted. “Alright, Paps,” you said, relaxing on the couch. “Do you wanna talk about it now?”

“IT…” He sighed. “IT’S SILLY.”

“Silly Billy.” He tilted his head, confused. You smiled. “That’s what I’ll call you anytime you say what you think or say is silly. You’re a Silly Billy.”

“BUT MY NAME IS PAPYRUS!”

“Silly Billy works just fine, because the only silly thing you said was that it was silly in the first place.” You crossed your arms, tilting your chin up with a smirk. “If you get to be silly, then the words I say get to be silly too.” Papyrus’s eyes widened and he laughed softly, “nyeh heh heh”ing under his breath. “Now, c’mon, Silly Billy.” His eyes sparkled a bit as he looked at you - they did that so often, it seemed - and you swore you felt your heart pound in that same way as before. “Go ahead and tell me what’s got you so twisted up inside.”

Papyrus looked down at his hands. “WELL… UNDERGROUND, I DATED FRISK, THE AMBASSADOR!” What. You covered your face to keep from laughing. Papyrus saw the movement. “OH, HUMAN! I AM SO SORRY! I KNEW YOU WOULD GET JEALOUS THAT I HAD ONCE DATED A VERY FAMOUS PERSON!” You coughed into your hand. “OH NO! YOU ARE EVEN CHOKING UP BECAUSE OF MY WORDS!”

“I-It’s fine, Papyrus,” you quickly said, struggling to keep your voice steady. Papyrus dated FRISK? God, you had met the kid once before. The little scamp probably led the poor skeleton on. Did either of them even understand dating at that age?? “What happened?”

“WELL… FRISK SEEMED VERY INTERESTED IN ME. THEY GAVE ME SO MANY COMPLIMENTS AND SEEMED TO TRULY LOVE ME. BUT… I COULDN’T WORK UP ANY OF THE SAME FEELINGS FOR THEM! NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRIED, I… I COULDN’T LOVE FRISK BACK.”

“Oh…” So what was he saying?

“AND SO I TOLD MYSELF, PAPYRUS, YOU ARE JUST CLEARLY NOT MEANT FOR FRISK! BUT THEN I HAD MANY PEOPLE IN MY LIFE WHO FELL IN LOVE! ASGORE AND HIS CLONE ARE NOW LIVING TOGETHER.” You chose not to comment on that. “UNDYNE AND ALPHYS ARE TOGETHER AND ARE GOING TO BE MARRIED ONE DAY, I KNOW IT!” They were just too cute. “EVEN FRISK HAS STARTED MOVING ON FROM ME - I HEAR THEY ARE VERY INTERESTED IN THE MONSTER CHILD FROM SNOWDIN!” Good for them!

“BUT I… WASN’T FEELING ANY OF THE SAME FEELINGS AS THEY WERE. WHEN I ASKED SANS ABOUT IT, HE DIDN’T SEEM CONCERNED - HE JUST SAID THAT…” Papyrus was fidgeting, his thumbs crossing over each other repeatedly. “HE SAID THAT MAYBE I JUST DON’T FEEL LOVE?”

“What?” Papyrus looked up at you. You were frowning. “Paps, I… I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but I also feel like that’s not something Sans would just… say outright. What did he say exactly?”

“WELL… YOU’RE RIGHT. HE SAID… HE SAID ‘MAYBE YOU WON’T FEEL LOVE’. AND I…” Papyrus sniffed - you could start to see tears in his eyes. “I WANT TO FEEL LOVE! AND… AND I…” Oh no. Oh no, he…

Papyrus was crying.

“I-I DIDN’T LOVE YOU BEFORE YOU CAME OVER OR BEFORE I AGREED TO THIS DATE! I JUST THOUGHT - YOU SEEM TO LOVE ME SO MUCH AND I WANT TO LOVE YOU VERY MUCH BUT I AM NOT SURE HOW AND I FEEL VERY STRANGE TONIGHT AND I FEAR IT IS BECAUSE YOU DO NOT KNOW THAT I DO NOT LOVE YOU AND I CANNOT BEAR YOU NOT KNOWING THAT FACT BECAUSE I BROKE FRISK’S HEART AND-”

“PAPYRUS!” He gasped, looking up at you, startled. You blushed, embarrassed that you rose your voice. But, well… “Breathe for me, okay, Papyrus?” He nodded, breathing very visibly for you. “Thank you… Now… I’m not upset.”

Papyrus sniffed, wiping his tears on his forearm. “Y-YOU’RE NOT?”

“Of course not!” How could he possibly think you could ever be angry at him? “Paps, I… While I can’t say I’m happy you don’t feel the same way about me, that doesn’t make me mad. All it means is… Well. You’re going to be my best friend instead.” Papyrus blinked. You looked away, blushing softly. “I’m not going to force you to love me. Maybe… Maybe what Sans was saying is that you just aren’t someone who gets into romantic relationships. There’s people out there just like you, Paps - aromantic or asexual people who don’t feel love the same way or don’t feel it at all. It’s… It’s not wrong and don’t you ever think it is-”

Papyrus sniffed, drawing your attention once more. He was crying harder. “Paps?”

“W-WHY ARE YOU SO NICE?” I JUST TOLD YOU THAT I DO NOT KNOW IF I CAN LOVE YOU, A-AND YOU…” He looked right at you. “YOU SAID THAT THAT’S OKAY?”

“I’m not going to force you to love me,” you repeated. You smiled, albeit a bit sadly. You weren’t happy to hear that… that your crush didn’t love you back. But what were you going to do? Yell? Scream? No. Papyrus, of all people, definitely didn’t deserve that (not that anyone else did, but especially not this man).

He blinked, looking at you. He shook his head. “I… I DON’T…” His smile drooped a bit. “I don’t understand this.”

You’re eyes widened. You… You had never heard his voice like that. It was… honestly, it was scary. You were suddenly concerned. “Understand… what?”

“I thought… I thought telling you would make the feeling in my sternum go away…” Papyrus rested his hand over his chest, blushing softly. “B-But… It’s still there. I just… I want to hug you,” he said, smiling ever so softly as he spoke. “I want to hug you and make you feel happy still, and I want you to eat dinner with me like this every night, even though I am very sad, and I want to do more things with you, like walk and laugh and enjoy days together…”

“But that doesn’t make sense! I just broke your heart! So… Why do I still want… why do I still want to date you?”

You tilted your head. You were… a little confused. “Papyrus… What’s this feeling that you’re feeling?”

He sniffed. “It’s like… It’s like my soul is beating against my ribs when it should not be there! And like I swallowed butterflies instead of spaghetti! And I cannot stop thinking about you even though I need to be thinking about what time it is so you can get home safely instead because I know it is getting later and dinner is done and-”

“Paps, that’s…” You gently put your hand on his, silencing his rant. He watched you. “Papy, that’s how I feel about you right now. I… I think what you’re feeling is love.”

He blinked.

“I…”

He blinked again, watching you.

“I… That’s what it feels like?”

You smiled, feeling your cheeks burn a bit. “I… Paps, I think that feeling you’re feeling is love. Does it feel all warm inside, almost like you’re gonna be sick?” He nodded quickly. “Does that feeling get stronger when I’m around?” He nodded again, bouncing slightly as he did. “When… When did you start feeling this way?”

“I-I’M NOT SURE,” he said, voice raising in volume alongside his excitement. “I JUST… NOTICED IT. I THINK IT WAS… I THINK IT WAS WHEN YOU MET FRISK. YOU WERE VERY NICE TO THEM AND I JUST STARTED THINKING ABOUT HOW NICE YOU WERE AND I COULDN’T STOP?” When you met Frisk? That had been just a few days ago. You had known each other for awhile. “AND THAT WAS THE DAY WHEN I SAW YOUR SOUL.”

Your eyes widened once again. You… God, you remembered that. You’d gotten into an argument with Undyne about something. And it had triggered… something that everyone had called a ‘confrontation’. Your soul - greener than the grass and trees in the middle of spring - had been quite the surprise. “So… The day when you saw that, you started to feel love for me?” Papyrus nodded. You smiled. “Paps… I think you might not be aromantic. I think you might just be… greyromantic?”

“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?”

“I… Honestly, I don’t know very well. I know the terms and vague definitions, but… This is something we’ll both need to research.” You rubbed your neck. “I… I don’t want to force you into any positions you’re uncomfortable with. But… I feel like what you’re feeling is love. And I know I love you, Papyrus. You’re sweet, kind, enthusiastic - you’ve made my life so much brighter, and we’ve only known each other for a very short time. So… Maybe… Maybe, we should see where this goes and… try dating more?”

“I… BUT HUMAN, WHAT IF I DO NOT LOVE YOU? WHAT IF I ONLY FEEL FRIENDSHIP FOR YOU AND IT IS JUST MAKING MY SOUL RESPOND ODDLY?”

“Who cares?” You smiled. “I’ll still get to spend time with the best man I know.”

Papyrus smiled widely, tugging you forward into a hug. You gasped before laughing. “HUMAN! YOU ARE THE KINDEST, NICEST HUMAN I KNOW! THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME THIS CHANCE TO EXPLORE STRANGE NEW FEELINGS AND UNDERSTAND WHAT I AM FEELING. I PROMISE, I WILL BE A VERY GOOD BOYFRIEND, EVEN IF IT TURNS OUT THAT I AM MORE JUST A FRIEND WHO IS A BOY. AND ALSO A SKELETON.”

You chuckled, patting him on the back, blushing. So, your boyfriend might not love you. He might love you. It just might require that you get to know him more. But that was alright.

There was no place you’d rather be than with him anyways.

[alitotechelamine]

“I’m not like other girls.” - Luke Skywalker (2/3)

Summary:  The trade negotiations with a local rebel group were to the point of stagnating-then the Arconan noticed Luke when he tried to break up a fight between Han and Leia and it sort of went downhill from there. On the upside, it turns out Luke cleans up nicely and Leia missed indulging in a few girly past times.

Also posted here <-- Chapter two

“Leia, you’re killing me.”

“Don’t be such a baby! Now hold still or I’ll mess up the lip liner.”

“You look like a million bucks kid.”

“Shut up Han, or you’re next.”

“Wow, speaking in unison – you two could be twins!”

Luke squirmed in his seat, trying not to flinch as Leia came at his eyes with a black pencil. The moment they’d gotten back on Home One just outside the planet’s atmosphere, she’d dragged him to her quarters and thrown him in her fresher. Shouting through the door, Leia had instructed Luke to use the different small bottles of products for his hair and skin, something Luke felt slightly bad for because how long had she waited to come by these things and now he was using them? Whatever he’d lathered into his hair though had made detangling and brushing it out go much faster than it normally would. It was even shinier than it was before, and Leia wasted no time in sweeping his bangs to the side and brushing the flyaways into submission. She sprayed his hair into place and nodded to herself before diving into a beat-up box of makeup while Luke fought to clear his airways.

Foundation, highlighter, and glitter dusted his face. His lips dyed a soft pink, and now Leia was busy lining his eyes with black liquid eyeliner. Han stood behind her sniggering, enjoying the show while Luke sent him dark looks promising revenge when he least expected it.

“It’s one night Luke, for a good cause.” Leia chided gently as she inspected her work, “And no one would think anything of it if you declined a second date with this guy, if anything if he takes offense then he’s the one in the wrong. If he wants to make this part of his business deal then he should expect this to not mean anything.” She turned Luke’s head side to side, using a careful eye to look over what she’d done. Satisfied, she dug mascara from the box, inspecting the glass bottle to see if she had enough before untwisting the cap and holding Luke’s head steady before she came in with the brush.

“And hey, maybe this is how you meet true love.” Han shrugged, “Just give us the signal and we can clear Chewie’s bunk out fast to give you two some time alone.”

“Han I will kill you.” Luke said evenly.

“How un-Jedi of you.” Han feigned insult.

“If he doesn’t, I will.” Leia shrugged, “Now Luke, you stand over here by the closet and let me see if we can squeeze you into something.”

“What’s wrong with my own clothes?” Luke cried.

“You don’t have any formal wear.” Leia said flatly, “And Gruto said he was interested in seeing you in something… of mine.. anyway?”

“Add to that, I’m not lending you my pants again if you’re gonna get intimate with Gruto.” Han grinned. Retaliation was Leia’s brush flying through the air and into Han’s chest as he laughed, Luke ready to vault the hairspray next while Leia ordered Han out of the room. He left, rubbing his chest and chuckling gleefully.

“I’m glad he’s having the time of his life,” Luke muttered as Leia pushed him to stand beside her small closet.

“We’ll find some way to get him back, don’t worry.” Leia sighed, “Chewie feels for you if it’s any consolation.”

“Unless he’s slathering lipstick on with me, then no, no its not.” Luke muttered.

“Lip stain, it’s cheaper than lipstick.” Leia said as she sorted through her clothes, holding various articles up to compare to Luke. Silky dresses, shiny shirts, and a few slinky black numbers Luke batted away before they could even get near him.

Leia sighed, “Come on, work with me here. We’re gonna run out of time if I have to fight you into something.”

Luke groaned, casting a look over Leia’s closet before throwing his hand out and grabbing something that didn’t look to tight or too much like a dress. He was wrong, as he pulled it out the fabrics full length fell to the floor and he was left holding a billowy champagne red robe-looking… thing (he refused to say the “D” word). Leia came to stand beside him, considering the outfit against the rebel pilot before nodding confidently.

“I can work with this, although we might have to touch up your makeup.” She gently took the hangar from his hands and slid the fabric from it, letting the front fall open, “Turn around and take off your shirt, you can drop your pants once we get this secured on you.”

Luke couldn’t stop the blush that engulfed his face at “drop your pants”, but he was already on edge and uncomfortable so he simply did as instructed. Once his shirt was sitting in a sad, crumpled pile on the floor Leia slid the arms of the… he’d call it a robe, that sounded manlier than… dress; the robe onto Luke before walking around the front and pulling it closed. The sash was pulled tight and knotted twice before Leia started pulling at the fabric so that the robe wrapped attractively around Luke’s shoulders. The rest of the robe was allowed to billow and fall, roomy and baggy enough to not feel constricting but tight enough to look like it was an actual dress. Leia secured the knot at Luke’s hip before dashing over to the closet and digging through a box on the floor, coming back with a large brooch to clip over the knot.

“There we go,” Leia grinned, continuing to adjust the material, “Now we finish hair and makeup and then you can help me get dressed.”

“As long as I’m through, you can do whatever you want.” Luke sighed, letting himself be led to the fresher and Leia reopened her beat-up box of makeup. It was quiet as Leia worked, darkening the shading of his lips and eyes, pausing every so often to check her work.

Eventually Leia broke the silence.

“I used to do things like this all the time,” She smiled, “I didn’t realize how much I missed it.”

Luke swallowed, “Really?”

“My mom loved teaching me how to do hair and makeup,” Leia nodded, “I’m not a huge fan of all the intricate hairstyles being a princess puts me through, but sometimes it’s fun to just play around. There are so many different styles to do when your hair is as long as mine, and it was fun to experiment just how complicated a hair bun could get.

“Clothes shopping was one of the only not-senatorial things I enjoyed doing too. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love going down to the blasting range whenever I had free time or finding somewhere to read or something. But sometimes it was fun to just try on pretty clothes and look good every once in a while.”

“I’m sure you were a heartbreaker as a kid.” Luke grinned.

“More like nose breaker,” Leia grinned, “You don’t get catcalled often in high Alderaanian society, but I gave the boys even more of a reason not to.” She pulled another spray bottle from the box, “Close your eyes, this’ll keep the makeup from smudging.”

“Am I free?” Luke asked once he could properly breathe again.

“Not yet, last touch.” Leia grinned (he did not like that grin), hurrying out of the fresher ahead of him and diving back into her closet. She emerged holding a green flowery hairclip.

“It’ll match the brooch,” She said, pointing to the emerald encrusted brooch sitting on Luke’s hip, “And hold back your hair better.” Carefully, she slipped the clip into Luke’s hair, pinning back his bangs further.

“There,” Leia grinned, stepping back, “Now you’re done.”

“Thank you!” Luke groaned.

“You shouldn’t feel too bad, you look good.” Leia grinned before disappearing inside the fresher. He heard the shower turn on and sat back down on the bed. He caught a glimpse of himself in the dark datapad screen Leia had left propped against the wall on her nightstand and, frankly, he had to agree with her. The Princess had done a fantastic job. He didn’t look like a boy wearing women’s clothes and playing with their mother’s makeup, he looked like him but with accents. His blue eyes stood out among smoky red and blacks, his lips looked full for once (and a light red-like he had a bloody mouth or something), and his hair was shiny and clean. The dress (because honestly it was a dress) was one of the most comfortable things he’d ever worn… and okay it didn’t look half bad. Simple and elegant, he looked like he belonged at a party.

And Leia looked like she was having fun dressing him up.

Speaking of, the Princess emerged from the fresher toweling her hair and wearing a bathrobe. She’d already started the makeup applications judging by her suddenly pink lips and fuller eyebrows, and was now looking through her closet.

“I like that pink dress on you,” Luke offered after a moment, “And we’d sort of match right, at least color-wise?”

Leia held out the low necklined, short sleeved pink dress Luke was talking about and grinned, “Yeah, only color.” Then she disappeared into the fresher again.

When she emerged Luke was standing there holding a silver circlet looking a bit embarrassed.

“I wanted to help, I didn’t mean to make a mess of all your hair things.” Indeed, there was a small pile of hairclips, bows, and other accessories sitting on the floor of the closet, “Sorry.”

Leia took the circlet from his hands and carefully slipped it on her head, “It’s fine, I’ve done it plenty of times myself anyway. How do I look?”

“Amazing.”

“Right back atcha.” Leia grinned, entwining her arm with Luke’s, “Now, let’s go break some hearts.”

[haiskulstories-blog]

Hai Skül Story #1; 2 Girls : 1 Boy

PART II: Anastacia Raynolds

My name is Anastacia Raynolds. My friends call me Ana. I’m one of the brightest girls in school, but I hate school. Fuck Wilson High School and all the shitty kids that go there. Except my friends, who are OK. We like to hang out and systematically plan the deaths of all the popular kids while we paint our nails and watch Heathers or Twin Peaks. Sometimes we watch My Sweet Sixteen if we run out of popular kids to fantastically destroy.

I do well in school because I’m bright and I’m nice to the kids who are smart but too socially incompatible to aggregate any sense of a circle of friends. Turns out, they are some of the coolest kids in school because they die to have a class next to me and in exchange, they will do anything for me. Usually it’s like: “Will you please get me a cup of water? I’m still working on this problem,” but they are happy to fulfill a variety of purposes. Needless to say: wrapped around my little stinky pinkie.

Part of the reason I like them is because I have a lot of shit to take care of in my life and I don’t always have time to go to Hot Topic in the mall if, say, my striped leggings get a run. Diane Blair works there. She acts so goth with all of their weird, glittery, off-color makeup, but she honestly just makes herself look like a clown. The popular boys seem to like her though, so whatever.

Now, you get the basic idea of what I do in and out of school, except I have a few hobbies I didn’t mention that I like to keep to myself. I’m actually really tight with my family. I have a little sister who I aspire to mentor as much as possible. She is going to Wilson High next year and I’m almost done with her starter kit. It includes profiles on the ten most popular seniors-to-be, including their favorite brands (in case she decides to fall in with them). She’s awfully pretty and I could see her falling in with one of the jocks. I’ve also included for her where the ten people they live and what kind of cars they drive (for obvious reasons, if she follows in my footsteps).

I’m a little bit torn about what social group she is going to choose, but I’ve made a full proof plan to flat out not care. She may be more popular with boys than me since she flat out likes them more than hitting the books, a divergence of our personalities. She’s had some guys over that, yeah, I can call guys, to the point that sometimes I’m slightly concerned for her since she’s still only 14, but the guys drive awesome cars and buy her clothes and she seems happy enough. She gets them to help her with homework, so I really can’t complain.

When we were younger, we used to be a pair of tomboys and would fight like boys with the neighborhood boys, play in the mud, steal the other kids’ bikes and such. I guess we both have the rebel bred into us, we just have matured into different ways in terms of how we logically put it to use. When I started to see the way she was getting guys to do her bidding, I figured she might have picked up better on our mom’s pretty housewife thing.

All for good reason: our mom is a fox. I guess I got girly when I hit high school and switched up my style, started puting on a little makeup. But I still never dropped my boyish pursuits. Quite the contrary. Neither my sister nor my mom were much thrilled when I started excelling in math and became the president of the motorsports club. They end up opting to spend Saturdays at the mall and for reasons I cannot comprehend, Jaqueline, my little sis, never got over going to church. Personally? I say burn it.

They say having a large network of friends is a guaranteed path to increasing the likelihood of longevity. I care a shit ton about my little sister, so when I saw she wasn’t growing out of her Catholic pursuits, I felt I needed to take action, so we could sit together well after our primes, saggy wrinkles eating up the Carribean sun, sipping piña coladas. I had the realization  just about halfway through sophomore year and up until then, I’d been hitting the books hard, outperforming even the nerds and not thinking too much about a social life to any degree. But I have a decent amount of foresight and I imagined my girly little sister getting to High School, failing at academia and not having any friends, so I figured I should buff up on the real extracurriculars for her sake; I started going to parties.

It was just around that time that I began to gather a following. My grade is a little weird in that most of the alternative girls are of the gothic persuasion and they simultaneously have a lot going for them looks wise. Using my head to grow my popularity but sticking to my cute and nerdy alt guns, I became a pin-up magnet and I soon had every pierced and ungodly chick’s posts rolling out a black carpet for a funeral-themed wedding whenever I scrolled through my Facebook feed. I guess they were excited by my bad-chick sleuthing skills to find the ragers and for good reason: I got them skin with boys they probably would never have seen until finishing their tattoo artist apprenticeships after graduation.

In turn, I was granted a spot in the throne as the prettiest in a flock of birds who would peck to pieces any sausage party. To put it plainly, we get what we wanted by sheer volume of pussy. I don’t even have to make plans on a Friday and by nine, I know where the party’s at and I know my gang will blow it up and turn even the lamest bangers into a roving burlesque.

And that’s exactly what we did over winter break when Stacy Fields, one of my prettier girls, let on that her boy Monty was having a get together with the basketball team. Stacy had visited Diane at Hot Topic earlier that day and snagged a couple bottles of O.P.I Midnight Glitter, so as soon as the bell rang, we all piled over to her house, ate strawberry Poki and watched The Devil’s Rejects while we spread layer after layer of shimmering jet black nitrocellulose over upwards of 100 nails.

We like to be fashionably late, so we rolled up to the party around quarter past eleven, ten girls decked out in torture garb with purses full of candy in a big black Chevrolet Suburban. When I got inside, it was apparent the party had already started because there were quite a lot of empty bottles sitting around, but the music was a little soft, dishearteningly acquiescing to hoots in a smoky family room focused on a plasma TV playing a videogame.

Monty walked up to me out of the smoke and asked me if I’d like a drink, so we headed to the kitchen where a couple other girls from the South Valley were comparing their boyfriends’ dick pics while sitting on the tile countertop, tugging out of a 32 of Miller High Life. Monty mixed me something strong that tasted flowery and vaguely like blue toilet liquid, but it got the job done. Uninterested in the dick pics, I walked back into the smoky living room, took a hit off a blunt that was being passed around and was lit. Then, I spotted him.

Across the room, sitting on an overstuffed brown faux-leather couch, was Erik Crooners, A-team player for the Wilson Wildcats basketball team. He looked uncomfortably out of place, not playing video games and not doing much at all except just kind of waiting for me to pounce on him and eat him up like he were a cup of soft serve.

Now, please don’t get me wrong. If I told you my taste in men, I’d first have to tell you my taste in women, to have a juxtaposition with with which to easily compare. I like Latina girls: tall, thin, but muscular. If she has a tattoo: especially my type. The more, the better. As for men: ditto! And Erik fits the bill to the ‘T,’ his sinewy body was even just ever so slightly caramel color, surely from all that time he spend with his oafish bestie DeShawn. Even made his white ass look a little bit vato: Swoon!

So then I stood there for like a split second, eyeing his most prominent tattoo, a ridiculously vain spidery scrawling of his own name that seemed to bulge out of his tank top on his left pectoral. I didn’t want to be a deer in headlights though. The faux-leather furniture set made the room feel especially ‘den’-like, so I took off my shoes and pranced over, flinging myself onto the big brown cushion next to Erik.

The whole chase was as much like eating soft serve as it had looked from a distance; all I had to do was pull on the little black bow in my hair and kind of tilt my head to show him my neck and he was melting. He tried to make conversation a little like a car trying to start when it’s battery’s dead. After he tried for the third time to say something incomprehensible, then he just kind of pulled his head back a little bit and squinted his eyes all Chinese.

We were up in the master bedroom for probably 20 minutes. He was acting a little like putty, but I’d had only one drink so I decided to take control. I’d had a crush on Erik Crooners ever since the third grade, ever since he gave me a stupid valentine that had a bunch of misspelled words on it about farm animals. I remember when he gave it to me, I took the sweater I had just taken off and threw it in his face.

Ever since then, my feelings of guilt had sort of blossomed into an obsession with his pathetic attempt, his embarrassment, his red little cheeks after I threw the sweater, stuck in my mind as cute but also loving. But when he came, his face got all sort of red and puffy and his eyes bulged. It was a little repulsive and made me question the whole engagement. I didn’t waste time and quickly got up to use the bathroom. On my way down the hall to the bathroom, I got a string of texts from Stacy: 

“Where R U??? // 

We jackt the keg! // 

Alreds in car + keg + we gonna leave yo asssss!!!!”

Even though I felt like I was about to piss myself, I sprinted downstairs and out into the car. As soon as I got in, everybody started asking me where I’d been and then Felicia shouted out that she’d seen me go upstairs with Erik. While my opinion had just been stilted by Erik and the idiosyncrasies fornication will no doubt pull out of a lover every once in awhile, all of the girls started screaming. The keg had already been tapped and we took turns pulling out of it directly, half the girls in the car, including myself, blacking out by the time we reached Stacy’s house.

Looking back, maybe Erik wasn’t all that bad in bed. I remember at one point he started saying something and it pains me to think that I might of heard him confessing, “I love you.” Maybe that’s why he didn’t pull out and maybe that’s why I had to pee so bad after running out of the room, even though I thought he had. All in all, one thing came out of that night: me, pregnant with Erik Crooner’s baby.

[exfrenchdorsl4p0a1]

Saying Goodbye To 'The Vampire Diaries'

After eight successful seasons, CW’s “The Vampire Diaries” is closing the doors of the Salvatore mansion and saying farewell to Mystic Falls. 

The supernatural series, which starred Ian Somerhalder, Paul Wesley, Candice King, Kat Graham and Nina Dobrev, is wrapping up on March 10, leaving behind a legacy of wacky, witchy, blood-sucking, doppelgänging storylines. 

But how will it all come to an end? Below, “The Vampire Diaries” showrunner Julie Plec and stars Paul Wesley (Stefan Salvatore) and Candice King (Caroline Forbes) reflect on the show’s run with The Huffington Post, and hint at what’s to come in the series finale.

The episode is not without its share of heartbreak. Like Elena says, 'Sometimes you have to feel pain in order to know that you’re alive.' Those are some of her words from the finale and are certainly true of the finale itself. Julie Plec on death in the final episode

Bidding Farewell To The Characters  

Julie Plec: I told everybody at the read-through that we would be saying goodbye to every set, every person and every important prop along the way, up to and including, literally, the last shot of Damon’s Camaro. [Laughs] 

Candice King: I think the only time I kept getting choked up was at the mention of saying goodbye to Caroline. I’ve been lucky to play a character for so long that I kind of felt like I knew who she was. I didn’t really have to dive into it too much after eight years, and so whenever anyone asked me what it would feel like to say goodbye and put that character to rest, that’s when I started tearing up a little bit. This was my first show, it was my first significant job, and for the first couple of years I didn’t know if I was going to be lucky enough to keep my job because they killed a lot of characters off. So she just represents so much of who I became as an actor. I feel like playing Caroline prepared me for whatever happens next in my career, wherever that takes me. 

Paul Wesley: Saying goodbye to the character Stefan and the things that came along with being on the show [was hard]. Honestly, the show went on for so long that you sort of start saying goodbye by Season 6. It’s not a sudden jolt — you’re already starting to transition into a different phase in your life. So it wasn’t like I was splashed in the face with cold water and in complete shock. I’ve sort of been saying my slow goodbye to the character for about three years now, which I’m grateful for because it makes it easier to transition.

Last Day On Set 

CK: The last day on set was incredibly emotional. I knew that I needed to cry … a lot. And luckily Julie was directing and wrote the last episode and she’s a crier, so it made me feel comfortable to cry as much as I did. It felt like an important moment of closure. “The Vampire Diaries” represented the majority of my 20s. I booked the show when I was 21 and I’m about to turn 30 now, so it’s really defined a decade of my life — and a pretty significant one as far as growing up and who you become. It really did shape me, and a lot of that is because of the people I got to work with. It felt so significant to stand next to so many people that had seen me grow and change and who’ve I’ve seen grow and change. We’ve all been with each other through life and death and marriage and divorce, and to be able to all stand in the Salvatore House great room set and hold hands and put arms around each other and really say goodbye to the series was a powerful moment I’ll never forget. A lot of tears, and silly string. The silly string brought the laughs after the tears.

JP: In that last moment, we really wanted to get Paul and Ian [Somerhalder] at the same time and so I had Candice and Kat [Graham] work with the art department, props and the AD department so that they could ninja-style launch an attack with the silly string and all the poppers and the sparkling champagne and all that. So we ended up wrapping on a party note.

PW: Oh, it was really funny. It was a bit surreal. I finished my take in my final scene and literally they hadn’t even yelled cut yet and someone just sprayed silly string directly into my eye. [Laughs] I have grown up on the set of “Vampire Diaries,” and, in many ways, it’s a beautiful thing and, in many ways, I have a relatively myopic view of things because you’re on set eight months out of the year. I’m 34 and I certainly want to be able to honor some of the artistic feelings I have in terms of my taste level. “The Vampire Diaries” is a fantastic show and I am so grateful for it and I think that it’s been incredible, but it will be exciting for me to do a series or a film or a play, as an actor, that is definitely a little more focused on adult stories.

The Finale Script

JP: We wanted to accomplish both tying it in a bow and leaving it open-ended, and give a sense of the future for each character ― whether they lived or died, understand where they were heading in their lives and what they were feeling. So you get a real sense of what’s to come but also a real sense of feeling like, “OK, these people, in their own way, are each going to be fine.” And that was important, since the launch of the series for me personally, to give it “a happy ending” in the midst of heartbreak. And then being able to have Kevin [Williamson] there to shape the “the how,” “the who” and “the what,” and help make the choices with me, and say goodbye to these characters with someone else who’s loved them equally for eight years was a real pleasure. In the directing, the burden was on me not to mess anything up. I’d rather have that burden on me then put it in the hands of somebody else. [Laughs] So, I took it upon myself to make sure we got it done.

CK: I was so proud of the writers and what they accomplished in writing the finale — specifically Julie and Kevin, but the whole team, too. It really gives the fans of the series everything that they wanted. I read it and it felt so good as a fan of television knowing how much space they had to fill and all these doors they had to close. I felt like they did a really, really wonderful job.

JP: The first challenge was just figuring out the cleanest and most powerful way to wrap up Season 8. Then, we got into how we were going to wrap up the series. And when it all comes down to it, we were actually able to balance the two really nicely. The first half of the episode is the roller-coaster ride of resolution to Season 8 and the second half of the episode is the emotional roller-coaster of saying goodbye to all the characters.

Reuniting With Former Cast Members

CK: Season 3, we were still having goodbye parties for when people left, but by the time everyone started coming back as guest stars, that stopped. [Laughs] We’ve seen a lot of the characters come back and forth throughout the years, but it was so special to have everybody back for the wrap party. There are some more people making an appearance in the finale, so it was really fun. It was a walk down memory lane ... I don’t want to list people because I don’t want to get in trouble! But yeah, you’ll see a bunch of people in the finale.

JP: These are good people whom we’ve had good friendships with over the years and characters that we love and said goodbye to very early, so being able to bring them back into one spot and celebrate their existence as characters but also as actors who are a part of the family was really great.

It’s just amazing how you can take people eight years later, plop them in the exact same situation, and they’re completely different human beings. Paul Wesley on the original love triangle

Nina Dobrev’s Return

PW: It was wild. I kept having these kind of flashbacks of Season 1 on specific sets — I don’t want to give away the sets because I don’t know what I’m allowed to say — but I just remember we were like kids and our lives were completely different. Ian’s priorities and his sort of outlook, as well as mine and Nina’s, were all so radically different than what they are now. I had this surreal moment where I just looked at both of them and I just thought, “Oh, my goodness, we’re doing a very similar scene to what we did eight years ago yet the way our brains are wired and our priorities have completely shifted.” It’s just amazing how you can take people eight years later, plop them in the exact same situation, and they’re completely different human beings.

JP: They kind of slipped right back into their roles with each other and shooting scenes with the three of them was a nice nostalgia.

CK: We all knew from the beginning that Nina would be coming back, so it wasn’t a surprise for us. But yeah, it was great. It was nice to have everyone there for those final moments. We were all so young when the show started, so it was fun to be able to go back through old pictures from the pilot. Also, It was great to be a part of a show that encouraged female friendships as opposed to female backstabbing. This show actually celebrated women being friends and I think Nina, Kat and I were very proud of that.

Will True Love Win? 

CK: Stefan is still human and Caroline is a vampire — and with people coming back to Mystic Falls, we’ll see what kind of chaos they bring with them. All of your questions [concerning Stefan & Caroline, Damon & Elena and Bonnie & Enzo] will be answered, and not everyone always ends up with what they wanted, but that doesn’t mean they’re not happy with where they end up. 

PW: I’m not sure that because Elena has suddenly awoken Stefan is going to leave Caroline to jump into another woman’s arms. Stefan is very loyal. I’m not saying that it won’t be challenging, but there’s going to be a variety of different things that test their relationship. Look, I don’t want to give away too much but it’s definitely going to be emotional, that’s for sure.

JP: I think that “how” we wrapped up the love stories is a less answerable question than “we did.” I’m not sure how we managed to pull it off, but we did. Whatever form it comes in, everyone will have a sense of hope for what the rest of their existence will look like.

Death Is Upon Us

CK: “The Vampire Diaries” has never been scared of saying goodbye to characters. So as we’ll be saying hello to a lot of characters we haven’t seen in a while, we might be saying goodbye to some, as well.

PW: Look, there’s definitely a death coming, and potentially multiple. Someone is dying, I’ll tell you that right now. It is and it isn’t surprising. We’ve had people die and come back to life, but there’s no coming back [now]. This is the final episode, so whoever dies here is dead. I think that’s the difference.

JP: The episode is not without its share of heartbreak. Like Elena says, “Sometimes you have to feel pain in order to know that you’re alive.” Those are some of her words from the finale and are certainly true of the finale itself.

Spinoffs, Sequels, Revivals, Oh My! 

PW: No spinoffs. There’s no going back, which is a bigger deal in many ways.

CK: Oh man, I’m not going to mess with that answer. I have no idea. But as far as this season and this series and this version of “The Vampire Diaries,” it’s answered. You kind of see where everyone [ends up]. You’re finally not going to end the episode with a bunch of questions, you’re going to get your answers.

JP: I would never say no to continuing to explore the — somebody coined the phrase for me the other day, which I love — “TVDU,” “The Vampire Diaries Universe.” I have no desire to exploit it, but I also know that there are plenty of opportunities for stories left to be told. That being said, I don’t have that plan right now, it’s just something that’s always living in the back of my brain as a future opportunity.

The Cultural Significance Of “TVD”

JP: I remember my freshman year of college sitting in my TV room at the end of my dorm hallway with one other girl watching the premiere of “Beverly Hills, 90210.” And then, a year later, walking into a room packed with college students watching “90210,” and I thought, “I wonder what it must be like to be part of a phenomenon like that.” And when all is said and done, I think that if you look at the success of this show across all international platforms, and Netflix, and on streaming, and the run that’s it’s had on The CW, it’s been that and I’m so proud of that.

PW: I really worked pretty diligently to get onto a series that I thought was going to have an impact and I thought was going to last a long time. I really wanted it to have a pop cultural significance and I think we accomplished that. What I learned from playing Stefan is to really enjoy the process. I look back and I think about the times when I was worried about how something was going to turn out or a certain character choice when I should have been enjoying the ride a little bit. Stefan, in a synonymous sense, can be a little brooding and self-serious, and I think that is parallel to my life a little bit. So whatever I’m doing now and as I’m getting older, I learn to appreciate it and be in the moment and more present as opposed to always thinking about the future and the past.

So Long, Fake Fangs, Red Eyes and Prop Blood 

CK: I’m excited to see what happens next for me. I love television and I love working in TV, but I’m open to any medium that will have me. I might need to take a break from fake blood and prosthetics, and always being on the cusp of death or someone always being about to die. I just need to laugh instead of cry for a while. But I’m just so grateful that this has been a career that I’ve pursued and had some success in at this point, so I just want to keep working.

PW: I think saying goodbye to fake blood and fangs for a little while is kind of an understatement. [Laughs] It’s been a great chapter. I find genre can be an amazing metaphorical phase and can convey human stories on a very analogous level. But I know that unless it’s the absolute role of a lifetime, I don’t think I will ever be able to play a vampire again, that’s for sure. I mean, never say never. The original conceit of a vampire dating back to “Dracula” or “Nosferatu” or movies like “Shadow of a Vampire” with Willem Dafoe, they’re obviously great stories. So, I wouldn’t turn a blind eye to that, but I think in the near future I can’t imagine playing a vampire again.

JP: I want the fans to know that we loved this show over the years as much as they did and we wanted to honor these eight years by telling the best end to this story that we could. We have had a very emotional experience putting it together and are all collectively really proud of it, and so we hope that they can enjoy it along with us.

“The Vampire Diaries” series finale, “I Was Feeling Epic,” airs Friday at 9 p.m. ET on The CW.  

These interviews have been edited and condensed for clarity.  

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