#to hear somebody earnestly tell you that and not even stop to consider you might be wrong. it is baffling

[piplupod]

it just seems cruel and sick to me that I tell someone "i think this little life has inherent value and I'd like to extend a little kindness to it when I am able to" and they laugh at me as if I'm being foolish and tell me I must squash it with my shoe :/

[lords-of-mayhem]

Here's a bit of Faust x Occultus that I wrote that I don't know where to fit into an actual fic, so enjoy <3

TW for non-graphic conversations about Faust's murder

“Do you still trust me?” Faust asked quietly, finally breaking the silence. His fingers continued stroking small circles over Occultus’ stomach, the familiar and soothing movement helping both of them relax a bit. “It’s okay if you don’t. Believe me, I understand. I just need to know,” And the issue was Occultus knew Faust better than anyone else, maybe better than Faust knew himself sometimes. 

He knew it wouldn’t be okay if he didn’t still trust him, he could hear the hurt in his voice simply asking about it. All he really meant was that Occultus could be honest with him about it. The bigger issue lied in the fact that Occultus didn’t know the honest answer to give him. He didn’t know how they were defining trust. Did he think Faust would ever hurt him? No, absolutely not. But he didn’t know if that knowledge fully equaled trust. 

“This is big,” Occultus replied after taking some time to consider, not giving a definitive answer yet. Instead, he let his thoughts flow freely from his brain straight out of his mouth, no buffer between them. “This isn’t just fucking around and having fun, Faust. You killed somebody and I had to find out through Euronymous and Varg?” And that was another thing he hadn’t even realized was a problem for him, but it was. 

He didn’t mind Faust getting closer to them and he knew it was dumb to get jealous, but he couldn’t deny it bothered him when they seemingly became more trusted than Occultus was. A small kiss was pressed to the back of his head and he sighed quietly. 

“I’m sorry,” Faust told him, so earnestly it nearly hurt. “I see why it hurt,” Occultus couldn’t tell if he loved or hated how well Faust knew him, knew exactly what he needed and wanted to hear. 

“I just don’t understand why you want their approval so bad,” Occultus said and those words hit Faust hard. Because that truly was it, wasn’t it? He hadn’t been seeking their approval when he told them about it. Honestly, he simply thought they’d understand the situation better than anyone else and he didn’t want to freak Occultus out with it, but he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed their praise. 

“I’m not trying to get their approval. I won’t anymore, I mean. I hadn’t realized I was even doing it,” Faust opened up to him about it. He knew communicating was a huge reason why they’d worked so well for so long and he felt a bit guilty that he hadn’t been great at it lately. “I don’t feel good about what I did.” 

“You don’t?” Occultus asked. That was big for him too. A large worry of his was that Faust had enjoyed doing something like that, that he might do it again. He knew that he wasn’t the most moral. He’d never minded watching Dead open up a vein on stage or even had any protestations to the churches being burned down, but this was a different level and he wasn’t sure he could go along with it. 

“I don’t,” Faust assured him and moved back when Occultus turned over to face him. He wrapped his arms back around his waist and pulled the smaller man close. “I promise I don’t. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it,” His voice was soft as he spoke, now stroking the small of his back instead of his stomach. 

“What was it like?” Occultus asked after a moment of silence between them. He wasn’t sure if he’d like the answer he got and Faust seemed aware of that, taking a moment to think about it. 

“I can’t describe it, really. But it’s not like the movies make it seem,” Faust explained to him, finally landing on what he wanted to say. “It changes a person,” He continued and Occultus frowned a bit at him. A kiss was pressed to Faust’s cheek and he leaned into it. 

“You’re still you,” Occultus told him softly and Faust wished it was true. He wasn’t sure if it was, he certainly didn’t feel the same. Maybe one day, he would feel like himself again. For now, maybe it was enough that Occultus thought he was still the same. 

[midnightsnyx]

Consequences - Matthew Tkachuk: part 2

summary: you absolutely hate Matthew Tkachuk so it's just your luck when you wind up pregnant with his child.

a/n: so here is part 2!! i was hoping to have it posted the weekend but i just wasn’t happy with it so i wanted to tweak it a little. 

this is 1.7(!!!!)k so much longer than p1.

i hope you guys like it! 

Consequences - part 2

“There she is!” Johnny shouted, stumbling to where you were seated at the bar. There was another guy trailing behind him and you recognized him immediately as Matthew Tkachuk, right wing for the Calgary Flames and one of Johnny’s friends.  

“Y/N, this is Chucky.” Johnny said, tossing an arm around your shoulders. Your best friend was very drunk but you knew the look in his eyes when he grinned at you.  

“Chucky, this is Y/N. I think you two will get along.” He winked at you before stumbling away but not without embarrassing you by shouting, “use protection!”

You could feel how hot your face was when you turned around to look at Matthew who was leaning against the bar casually. You’d heard stories from some of the girls about how he slept with girls and the tossed them out the next day like garbage so already, you disliked him and it only got worse when he leaned towards you and smirked.

“Do we have to do the whole get to know each other thing or can we just head back to my place?”

Maybe it was the fact that you drank more than normal or because you’d just gotten dumped by your boyfriend of two years but Matt’s comment made your blood boil and without thinking, you tossed your drink in his face.

It’s been a week and a half since you told Matt you were pregnant and since then, you hadn’t heard or seen him. Part of you is relieved because you’re not sure you can handle him right now when you’re still trying to process the fact that you are pregnant. A quick trip to the doctors and some bloodwork confirmed what the seven pregnancy tests showed. You’re seven weeks and five days along.  

The thought scares the life out of you because you feel like you can’t possibly be a mother. You can barely keep a plant alive, let alone a child. But you have to and you’re not sure what made you not even consider taking the easy way out but just the thought of getting rid of the baby made you sick to your stomach.

The only problem is Matt.  

Matt, who you haven’t heard from since you dropped the baby bomb on him. Part of you isn’t surprised because it’s exactly what you were expecting but another part of you is upset because despite some things you’ve heard about Matthew, you’ve also heard that he’s a decent guy so you thought there might be a chance he wouldn’t leave you to raise the baby alone.

But you also know that you don’t need him. You have your family and friends and you’re surrounded by people who you know would do anything for you but there’s still the part of you that doesn’t want to have your child grow up without a father.

And it breaks your heart thinking about it.

Matt doesn’t exactly know how he ended up in the baby isle in Walmart but what he does know, is that there are far too many things that a baby needs. Diapers, formula, clothes, pacifiers, cribs, the list goes on.  

He knows that he’s an ass for not going to see Y/N yet but he just needs time to process it. It felt like someone slapped him in the face when she showed up and told him she was pregnant with his child. It’s not something he ever thought he would hear until he was settled down with a wife and a house – not with the woman who despises him for reasons he doesn’t know.

He’s aware that the entire world thinks he a pest and he knows that he can be an asshole but Y/N has a hatred for him that he doesn’t understand and he’s not sure he ever will.

His head is spinning by the time he leaves but he’s carrying a bag with a bottle of prenatal vitamins and a Calgary Flames onesie so that’s something, he supposes.

“Hello, favourite brother.” Taryn says when she answers the phone. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m telling Brady you said that.” Matt chirps. “Is dad home?”  

“Yeah, why?”  

“Can I talk to him?”

“Yeah, why?”  

“Because.” Matt says sharply. “Jesus, you sound like that talking snowman from Frozen.”

“Chill out,” his sister mutters. “something crawled up your ass.”

“Taryn.”  

“Okay! Okay! Here’s dad.”

Matt mutters a thanks before preparing himself for the lecture he’s going to receive from his father. He can avoid it by just not telling him, but he needs advice and he doesn’t know who else to go to that he knows will keep it a secret.

“Hey bud.” Keith says, “What’s up?”

Best to just get right into it.

“You remember Johnny’s friend, Y/N?” Matt asks, hoping his father knows who he’s talking about so he doesn’t have to explain more.

Keith hums and Matt can picture his father nodding.

“Yeah. Nice girl. Hates your guts. Can’t say I blame her.” Keith jokes, letting out a loud belly laugh. “What about her?”

Matt hesitates before sighing. “She’s pregnant.”

“Wow! Good for her.” His dad says earnestly. “Tell her congrats from me and your mom.”

Did I sound this fucking stupid?  

“Um...”

“Oh, don’t tell me it’s Gaudreau’s kid. That boy has a girlfriend!” Keith scolds and Matt has to stop himself from tearing his hair out. How has his father not picked up on it yet?

“Yeah, no. It’s not Johnny’s kid.”

“Well whose is –” Keith stops mid-sentence and Matt cringes, waiting for the fury.

“You didn’t.”

“I -”

“Didn’t what?” Taryn pipes up from the background and Matt groans, knowing his sister was most likely listening.  

“You did not get a girl pregnant.”

“It was a mistake.”

“Dear Lord, help us.” Keith mutters.

“Matt knocked somebody up?” Taryn squawks and then Matt hears a voice that makes him wish he was never born.

“Matthew Tkachuk,” His mother shrieks. “You did not get a girl pregnant.”

Matt sighs and looks up at the ceiling in regret.

“And don't you think for a second that I won’t be calling her to make sure you actually go see her.” Chantal says firmly and Matt knows that she will so he nods even though she can’t see him.

“Yes, ma’am.”  

She mutters something under her breath before sighing. “Your father wants to talk to you.”

Matt doesn’t get so much as a goodbye before his mom hands the phone off.  

His father doesn’t say anything for a moment but lets out a deep breath.

“You fucked up.” He says in a tired voice.

“Yeah, I did.” Matt agrees.

“I had a friend when I was in my twenties who got a girl, he was dating, pregnant.” His dad says. “They were only seeing each other for a few months when she found out, and you know what he did?”

“What?”

“He left.” Keith tells him. “He ran away and left the poor girl alone and pregnant. Two years later, I heard that he showed up and wanted to be in the kid's life.”

“What did she say?” Matt asks, never having heard this story from his dad but knowing now why he’s telling him.

“She told him to fuck off.”

Matt chuckles. “Good for her.”

Keith lets out a small laugh. “She was tough as nails, that girl.” Then he sighs. “you know why I’m telling you this, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you know what you have to do.”

“I do.” Matt says, already looking for his keys and a jacket. “I’ll call you tomorrow, dad.”

“Good luck, bud.”

“Thanks.”

It’s late when he shows up at your apartment and you’re absolutely furious at him, not because he’s standing at your doorstep 11 o’clock at night but because he made you wait long enough that you were scared that he was never going to show up.

“I uh... I read that you’re supposed to be taking these.” He says, offering what looks like a bottle of prenatal vitamins and although you already have them, it still makes your eyes water and your heart warm and you blame it on the stupid hormones when you reach out and pull him in for a hug.

“I’m really sorry.” He whispers into your hair and even though it’s not, you still tell him it’s okay and if his shirt is wet with your tears, well, you can blame that on the hormones too.

The two of you stand there hugging until your neighbour, Ms. Walters. opens her door, making you pull away from him.

“Hello dear,” she says kindly before looking at Matthew with a raised eyebrow. She doesn’t look impressed with him when she notices you tear stained face but there’s no way you can explain that they are happy tears so you just shoot her what you hope is a reassuring smile.

It must be enough because she smiles and walks away, leaving you and Matthew standing in your doorway.

“Can I come in?” He asks gently and you nod, stepping back to let him walk past you. He kicks his shoes off and walks to the living room with you trailing behind him, trying to think of how to start the conversation.  

But he beats you to it.

“I’m sorry, for how I reacted when you told me.” He says. “I should have handled it better.”

You nod, sitting on the couch and motioning for him to sit as well.  

“You should have, but I also should’ve broken the news better.” You say. “We both could have done better.”

He nods. “I just want you to know that I support whatever you decide to do.”

“I know.” You tell him, waiting a minute before smiling. “I’m keeping it.”

You’re not expecting the wide grin that crosses his face and it makes your eyes water again, making his eyes widen.

“I’m sorry!”

“No, it’s not-” your face turns a light shade of red and you look at the ceiling. “I’ve been crying a lot lately. Hormones, I guess.”

“Yeah, I read something about that.”

You raise an eyebrow and grin. “Read it, huh?”

His face turns red now and he shrugs. “I had a bit of free time.”

You just smile at him again but don’t tease.  

“Did you want to watch a movie?” He asks and you grin.

“As long as it’s not What to Expect When You’re Expecting.”  

[freddiesaysalright]

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes - Chapter 2

Gwilym!Prince Charming x Reader

Summary: After losing your parents, your step-family makes your life impossible. That is, until Prince Gwilym holds a ball. It’s your one chance for everything to change.

Word Count: 3.2k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks​, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @the-moving-finger-writes​, @assembledherethevolunteers​, @rose-writes-prose​, @queenlover05​, @26-7-49​, @drowsebaby, @im-an-adult-ish​, @queen-paladin​, @rogerina-owns-me, @mirkwoodshewolf​, @namelesslosers​, @headl0ng​, @captvianswaan, @xviiarez​, @baltimoresweethearts​, @killer-queen-87​, @haileymoreolikestupid, @itsametaphorgwil​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Once again, I apologize this update took so long. As y’all know, I’ve been going through it with my break up and sad. But! My motivation has returned enough for me to continue and I hope y’all enjoy!

Warning(s): None!

Moodboard

Prologue  Chapter 1

Chapter 2 here we go!!!

No one else seemed to notice him walk in, but to you, it was as if time had stopped. He started toward a table, moving in slow motion, followed by two other men apparently in his class, and he took a seat at a corner table. You were frozen to the spot as you watched him. 

“Earth to Y/N,” Zelda snapped. “Are you going to just stand there or go greet our customers?”

“Right, sorry,” you said, shaking your head to pull yourself out of the reverie.

“And turn on the charm,” she instructed under her breath. “Those men have clearly got money.” 

You straightened yourself and headed over. You began to hear their conversation as you approached. 

“So, your father didn’t say what it is he has?” questioned the blonde one to Gwilym’s left. 

“No,” Gwilym said with a shake of his head. “Just that he’s ill. He really didn’t talk about it.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said the dark-haired one across from Gwilym. “Your father is a good man. You’re lucky you still have him to guide you.”

“I’m more than ready to take on my role,” Gwilym said. “It’s just all this marriage talk that’s got me worried. Say I do marry and start a family, what then? Will he think it’s okay to just give up?”

“Believe me, once he has grandchildren, he’ll have all the more reason to fight,” the blonde one said. “My parents can’t get enough of the twins.”

“It’s still hard to believe you’re the father of twins, Ben,” Gwilym said with a smirk. 

Gwilym’s back was to you when you reached the table. 

“Good evening,” you began shakily, but then cleared your throat. “What can I get for you, gentlemen?”

The blonde one, Ben, addressed you first. 

“A pitcher of ale is fine,” he said. “I’ve got this round, and Rami will get the next. We’re treating the birthday boy.”

He clapped Gwilym on the shoulder. 

“That’s not for another two days!” Gwilym insisted. “You’re the guests, I should treat.”

“Yes, but we’re guests to your birthday ball,” Rami replied, as Ben was already handing you some coins. 

“How exciting,” you said, trying to contain your curiosity. 

A ball? With rich out of town guests? Gwilym must really be somebody. 

“Aren’t you going to wish him a happy birthday?” Rami asked. 

You shook your head. “Sorry, but it’s bad luck to say it before the day.”

Gwilym finally looked at you. You saw his brow crease as he searched your eyes for recognition, but you quickly cut your gaze away. You didn’t want him to know you. Not truly. 

“Well, you can’t argue with superstitions,” Ben said.

“You just say that because you’re friends with pirates,” Rami teased. 

You smiled, and allowed yourself to look at Gwilym once more. He was paying no mind to his friends, and was still gazing at you. His eyes were so clear and blue. 

“I will wish you good luck,” you said sweetly. 

Gwilym felt his heart skip a beat. “I...well, thank you.”

You looked away and at his friends. “I’ll be right back with that ale.”

You turned on your heel and swept away from the table, taking deep breaths to steady yourself. Your heart was hammering against your ribcage. 

“Y/N, are you alright?” Zelda asked as you came into the back, her face drawn with concern. “You look pale, child.”

“I...I think you should take that table, Zelda,” you said. 

“Why?” she demanded. “Were they being disrespectful? Because I don’t care how rich they are, I’ll kick every one of their sorry -”

“No, nothing like that,” you cut across her with a small laugh. “They’re perfectly polite, I just am a bit intimidated.”

“Intimidated?” she questioned. 

You couldn’t really make her understand. There was something about Gwilym that made you want him to see you as elegant and refined. Not a helpless orphan and waitress.  

“Well, I’m sorry,” she said. “But as your friend, I’ve got to make you face your fears.”

“But, Zelda, I -” 

“No buts,” she cut across you, handing you a pitcher on a tray with three pints. “You’ll be just fine.”

She gave you a little push and you stumbled out of the kitchen. Zelda watched you make your way back to the table with a sigh. The truth was, she saw how lovely and charming you were, and she hoped that one of those men was your ticket out of this life. 

“Here we are,” you said cheerfully, donning the mask you usually wore, and placing the drinks down in front of each of the men. “Anything else for you gentlemen just now?”

“We’re alright, thank you,” Rami told you. 

“Perfect, just shout if you need anything,” you said quickly.

Again, you scurried away, but still felt Gwilym’s eyes on your back.

“Did she give us her name?” Ben asked. 

Gwilym didn’t answer. He was watching the door you’d disappeared behind. 

“Hello?” Ben said to his friend, exchanging a concerned look with Rami.

“Gwil!” Rami barked.

Gwilym started and looked at his friends, straightening his shirt. “Sorry. What?”

“What’s got you so hung up on her?” Ben asked, jerking his chin toward the kitchen door.

“I swear I saw that girl earlier today,” Gwilym answered. “While Father and I were out riding. She looks different, but something about her face, I just…”

“Oh, no,” Ben said grimly.

Gwilym’s brows came together. “What?”

“He’s got it,” Rami added.

“Got what?” Gwilym demanded. 

“The love stare,” Ben answered.

“I beg your pardon?” Gwilym questioned. “Love? I don’t even know her name.”

“Doesn’t matter, you’ve got the stare,” Ben said. “I’ve had it, Rami’s had it, and once you’ve got it, it’s the end of your life as you know it.”

Gwilym frowned. “What on Earth are you talking about?”

“The first time I saw my wife - well, the second time actually since the first time I was barely conscious - I looked at her and nothing else mattered,” Ben said. “I couldn’t stop looking at her. Tell him, Rami.”

“It’s true,” Rami agreed. “With my wife, it only took our first meeting for me to become sort of obsessed with her. All I wanted was to be close to her.”

Gwilym rolled his eyes. “You’re both being absurd. I was just trying to place her from earlier, nothing more.”

“And I was just trying to find the girl who rescued me,” Ben said. “You tell yourself whatever you want.”

A beat passed as Gwilym considered this. He did find you rather attractive earlier. Your pretty eyes - so sad, but so beautiful - shining in the sunlight. The way your cloak framed your delicate face. Sure, you were pretty, but that didn’t mean he was in love, did it?

“Do you want to see her again?” Rami asked. 

“I don’t know,” Gwilym said. “She’s probably a perfectly lovely girl, I just -”

“Invite her to the ball,” Ben said. 

“My father is planning on introducing me to dozens of ladies that night, I can’t show up with a date,” Gwilym said. 

“Then invite everyone,” Rami suggested. “The whole town. That way, she’ll turn up if she’s available, and you can be introduced to her as well.”

“I’m not sure my father would approve,” Gwilym said. 

“Listen, mate,” Ben replied. “If there’s anything Rami and I have learned, it’s that you’ve got to bend the rules a little to get what you want. And let’s say that’s not the girl of your dreams, some other girl might be. But you can’t know that if your only options are other nobility.”

“I did tell Father I wanted to give everyone a chance,” Gwilym conceded. “I think that’s a brilliant idea. The castle should not be off limits to the townspeople. Everyone will be invited to my ball.”

The three princes grinned and clinked glasses.

Meanwhile, you were busy running food and more drinks. You found yourself constantly glancing over at Gwilym and his friends, and they eventually waved you over to order another round, which you handled just as briefly as the first time. Although they were so pleasant, a large part of you wanted nothing more than to sit down and join them. 

They left after about two hours, and you watched them go, feeling heavier somehow. You sighed as the door began to close, casting one last glance Gwilym’s way. The night wore on, you continued in your work, and then closing time came, and you and Zelda began to clean up. It was well after midnight. 

You were wiping some clean mugs when Zelda approached you. She put all the earnings for the night into the safe and then she stretched backward and groaned. 

“Better take it easy soon, Y/N, or you’ll end up with a back as bad as mine,” she joked.

You half smiled. “I’m afraid Frank allows me no time for taking it easy.”

Zelda paused, looking long and hard at you. You stopped your cleaning and met her eyes.

“What?” you asked.

“Y/N, don’t you think it’s about time you got away from Frank?” she wondered earnestly.

“Of course I do, but I haven’t any money,” you replied. “Or a place to go.”

She bit her lip and looked at the ground, hesitating on what she wanted to say. You wrinkled your nose and fixed your gaze on her face. 

“Zelda, what is it?” you pressed.

She looked at you again. “You’d have those things if you got married.”

You blinked, as shocked as if she’d slapped you. 

“Married?” you questioned. 

She nodded. “Yeah. I mean, goodness knows, you’ve gathered the heart of almost every single man who comes into this place. Any of them would make a fine and loyal husband.”

Your heart sank at the mere thought. True, the men you served here were sweet and fun, but you had no real attraction to them. At least, nothing beyond a friendship. You had your heart set on falling in love, and being as passionate as your parents were. What else made a marriage worth having?

“I don’t love them,” you replied plainly. 

Zelda struggled not to roll her eyes. “Romantic as the notion is, most people are not as lucky as your parents were. Most people find a good person and settle down, and make it enough.”

“I’m not most people,” you returned. “I could never promise myself to just anybody to get out from under Frank.”

She heaved a sigh. “I’m asking you to be realistic, Y/N. It might be the only way out.”

“But that’s a horrible foundation for a marriage!” you argued. “Besides, if the whole point is for me to get my freedom, then what good would it do to go from my stepfather to a husband?”

“Y/N, think!” she cried. “Any of the men here would be much kinder to you! It’s true, you wouldn’t have complete independence, but at least you would no longer suffer this abuse!”

You paused, heart cracking at the idea. She wasn’t wrong. Your life would be fairly pleasant as the wife of a farmer or a merchant. But love…

“I can’t, Zelda,” you said levelly. “I just can’t. I’ve clung to the hope of love for too long. If I give up on it now, I...I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed each day. I can’t compromise.”

She sighed again. “At least think about it, Y/N. Please.”

You gave her a curt nod. She walked away and you watched her go, mind reeling with her suggestion. 

***

The next day, Gwilym sat at the breakfast table with his father. As he spread some butter on a fresh piece of toast, the prince looked at the king, debating how to tell him of his idea to invite the townspeople.

“Father,” he began. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh, here we go,” the king grumbled. “What is it?”

“I’d like to invite the whole town to my birthday ball,” Gwilym said, pushing down the urge to snap at the insult. “And I mean everyone, from the gentry to the servants.”

The king shot a glare down the table at Rami and Ben, who were looking pointedly at their own plates.

“Is that so?” the king questioned. “You do realize how much more work we’ll have to do in order to accommodate that amount of guests?”

“You’re the king, surely you can make it happen,” Gwilym said. “It would mean a lot to me, Father. Please?”

He held Gwilym’s gaze, and he softened. As gruff as he was, the king lived to make his son happy. And if the prince wanted it, he was almost always granted it.

“Very well,” he sighed. “We will send out the invitations this afternoon.” 

“Thank you, Father!” Gwilym exclaimed, standing up to hug the king. “You are a most gracious monarch.”

The king squirmed away from his son’s grasp and mumbled irritably under his breath. Gwilym chuckled and looked at his friends. 

“Shall we head out?” he asked. 

“Absolutely,” they agreed. 

The three of them were going hunting today to get out of the palace while the ball was being put together. Ben clapped Gwilym on the back as they exited the palace and walked toward the stables.

“Well done, mate,” he said. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“He did agree surprisingly quickly,” Gwilym remarked.

“Well, it is your birthday,” Rami joked. “You should have whoever you want at your party. I invited the whole village to my wedding, and it was great!”

“I do want to be more involved with my people,” Gwilym agreed. “And who knows? This may be my best birthday yet!”

They laughed together as a footman brought them their horses.

***

You spent the morning cooking with Elise before going up to get your step sisters dressed. Part of you hoped they’d soon get married. That way they could have breakfast in bed and give you some reprieve in the mornings. Your step sisters were okay enough women, and you were certain Frank was plotting some advantageous marriage for them as soon as possible. And it seemed they were also eager to be away from their father.

You walked with Eleanor down the stairs, but parted ways to go to the kitchen. You brought them fresh tea and poured it into their cups.

“Y/N, I need you to mend my coat that’s hanging in my room today,” Frank said as he took a sip.

You were on edge this morning, especially after the events of the previous day. And you were nervous about your conversation with Zelda. You felt that somehow Frank knew how badly you desired to leave now.

“Yes, sir,” you said quietly. 

“And I won’t be going into town,” he said. “I’ve got to update the books of the estate today, so I’ll be in my office all day.”

You nodded. It was always a disappointment when Frank had to stay home during the day. He seemed to find random, pointless tasks for you, lest you find yourself with time to read or eat. But, if it was to balance the books, then he likely would be cooped up in his office.

“Would you like me to bring you your lunch when it’s ready?” you asked. 

“Yes,” he said. “The girls have their music teacher coming so take theirs to the music room. Other than that, we are not to be disturbed.”

The only exceptions to the “do not disturb” rule were fires and injury. You nodded again, understanding.

After breakfast, you cleaned up and did the dishes. Then you headed to the fireplace in the parlor. It was in desperate need of cleaning, so you agreed to take it on. Elsie’s knees just wouldn’t be able to bear it. Before you began, you looked at the chair that your father used to use. When you were a little girl, and your parents hosted parties, the men gathered in this parlor after dinner for brandy and cigars. But your father always told you goodnight before you went to sleep, so you’d slip into the room, to find him in that chair every time. He’d smile, scoop you up, and put you on his knee to give you a big good night kiss. You could still feel the little scratches from his facial hair. 

With a sad smile, you got to work. 

The fireplace turned out to be a bear of a project. It had not been cleaned in years, apparently, and the soot had really built up. After hours of sweeping and scrubbing, you finally got to your feet and admired the clean brick. You were covered in ashes now, and smeared a little on your forehead when you wiped your sweat away. You decided you’d better change and rinse off before mending Frank’s coat. 

You walked out into the entrance hall with surprising timing. Just then, there was a knock at the door. You glanced around, but Robert wasn’t close by. With a shrug, you went to answer it.

The door creaked open when you turned the knob. There stood a young man in a handsome suit, with a huge bag slung over his shoulder. In it, appeared to be hundreds of matching envelopes. 

“How can I help you?” you asked politely.

“Good afternoon, madam,” the man replied, grabbing a letter and holding it out to you. “An invitation from the king.”

You gasped. “The king?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “The whole town has been invited.”

“Invited to what?” you wondered, taking the letter.

The man offered a short bow, which you returned, and then walked back to his horse. You closed the door and looked at the envelope. It was addressed only to “Residents” and then the address, so it wasn’t technically wrong for you to open it. On the other hand, Frank was particular about things like this. You had no desire to set him off again. 

In another remarkable moment, Elsie was coming with Frank’s lunch tray. She offered to take it since you’d taken on the fireplace. 

“Elsie,” you said as you approached. “This letter arrived from the palace. I’m sure Frank will want to open it.”

“Right you are, Y/N,” she agreed.

You placed the letter next to his plate and offered her a little smile. Whatever it was - if it was royal business - likely had nothing to do with you. Still, you were a little curious.

You forgot about the letter while you changed your dress and washed your face. When you came back down from your room and opened the door to Frank’s chambers, he burst out of his office so suddenly, it startled you. His eyes were crazed, a strange burning behind his irises. 

“Y/N, fetch my daughters!” he demanded. “This instant!”

You didn’t hesitate to hurry down the stairs to the music room. You opened the door without knocking.

“Y/N!” Eleanor cried, hands on her hips. “We’re in the middle of a lesson!”

“Your father says to come quick!” you urged her.

The two of them picked up their skirts and ran with you all the way back up to Frank’s office, leaving their music teacher stricken at the piano. Your heart was thumping with excitement. What could this be?

“Father?” Miranda questioned as the three of you entered the study. “What’s the matter?”

He held up the letter. 

“There is a ball at the palace tomorrow night,” he said slowly. “And we’ve received an invitation.” 

[the-quiet-winds]

It’s Always Darkest Before the Dawn (part two)

hello! welcome to part two of this particular series by @ichlugebulletsandcornnuts and myself. part three will probably be up tomorrow :)

 [part one]

[Part 2: The Purest Element but it’s so Volatile]

jane is the first to arrive to rehearsal the next morning, her bag laden with snacks and water bottles for herself and the other queens (she’d be lying if she said they weren’t for katherine.) she sits and waits for the others to trickle in. surprisingly, considering jane herself was a half hour early, katherine walks in next. jane not too slowly stands up, wringing her hands together. “good morning,” she says as katherine comes closer. “how...how was your evening?”

“it was okay,” katherine says quietly. she fidgets with the strap of her bag for a moment. “listen, i just wanted to say sorry for last night,” she suddenly rushes out. jane pauses, confused.

“apologise for what?”

katherine flushes slightly pink and she shrugs. “you know. for falling asleep while you were texting me.”

jane blinks, baffled by the revelation. “you fell asleep? that’s why you stopped replying?” she pauses. “i thought...i thought i was too forward with you,” jane admits. “i thought you’d stopped responding because of that.”

“it wasn’t that,” katherine says, an  odd sort of determination in her tone. jane suddenly lights up. “i brought you something.” she rummages through her bag and pulls out an energy bar. “i noticed you weren’t too fond of the berry one yesterday, so i thought maybe you’d prefer chocolate,” she explains lamely as she offers it to katherine.

katherine looks at the bar for several seconds, before looking up at jane with the most genuine smile jane has yet seen from her.

“thank you,” she says, and jane smiles back.

“any time,” she replies firmly. it may have seemed a throwaway response, but jane means it genuinely and hopes katherine can pick up on that.

“what do you think we’ll be doing today?” katherine asks her a little hesitantly, playing with a pink strand of her hair.

jane’s smile remains as katherine initiates conversation with her. “i heard that today we were doing the last part of the opening, then starting the solos.” jane pauses thoughtfully. “i think they’re doing a random order for those, but i’m not entirely sure.”

jane’s information turned out to be accurate. the rest of the queens arrived, and an hour later they had finished the first song. then the choreographer held what appeared to be a fish bowl. “i’m going to pull a random name. we’ll work on their solo till lunch, then another’s after.” she reaches in, shuffles the papers, then pulls one out. “howard! looks like you’re up first.”

katherine freezes like a deer in the headlights at the sound of her name. she makes her way to the front of the room and stands where the choreographer tells her to. her face had paled considerably, and jane shoots her a comforting smile.

“you’ve got this,” she mouths, and katherine gives her a weak smile.

the choreographer arranges the other girls in formation around katherine.

“we’ll start with a sing-through so everyone can get used to the song,” she announces. “if you’re ready, howard.” she directs the last part at katherine, who gives an unconvincing nod. the choreographer looks over at the woman on the keyboard who makes a sign she’s ready.

“let’s start then,” the choreographer commands.

jane listens earnestly to the bright, poppy feel of the first chorus, then it goes into the first verse, and jane's spirits fall. the lyrics are littered with sexual innuendos, telling the story of a thirteen year old girl named katherine and a twenty-three year old man named henry mannox. then francis dereham. then king henry himself. the lyrics are bad enough, but the sheer pain in katherine's voice resonates in jane's soul, and stays there even as they begin to learn the choreography.

the choreography calls for the other queens to touch katherine from time to time, and when jane is told to place her hand on katherine’s upper arm she can feel the unpleasant shudder the girl gives at the contact. they focus mainly on the first two verses and choruses, trying to get the choreography memorised there before moving on to the latter half of the song.

the choreographer finally allows them to take a break and jane watches as katherine grabs her sweatshirt from the chair and leaves the room, slow enough that someone looking might just think she’s going to the bathroom, but with the unmistakable tremble of a girl about to burst into tears. jane dithers for a moment before following her; she knows she might be overstepping the boundary, but she can’t in good conscience allow katherine to cry alone with nobody to comfort her.

jane takes long, slow steps through the halls of the theater. it's very quiet, but the unmistakable sound of sniffles and tears ring directly into jane's ears, pulling at her heart. katherine is in a corner, near the stairwell, knees pulled to her chest and face buried in the tiny space there. jane creeps forward, before settling down on the floor across from katherine, careful not to intrude on her space, especially not after the last two hours of what must have been absolute torture for the girl. "katherine?" she quietly calls, trying not to startle her.

katherine looks up suddenly, eyes wide.

“jane, hey,” she croaks, hastily wiping her tears away with the palms of her hands. “w- what are you doing here?” she attempts to hold jane’s gaze, but the tears are still welling up in her eyes despite her pretending they aren’t.

jane's eyes are full of concern, her head cocked slightly down and sideways to keep eye contact with katherine. "i came to make sure you were okay." jane desperately wants to reach out and comfort her somehow, but restrains herself. "i guess that song has a lot more depth than i realized," she says levelly. more tears begin to escape down katherine's cheeks, and jane can't just sit by any longer. with the gentlest of touches, she reaches out and wipes a few tears away with the pad of her thumb.

katherine doesn’t stop her, which jane takes as a good sign. she moves slowly nonetheless, just so if katherine wanted to stop her it would be easy for her to.

“you know,” she says softly, “if the song was too much, maybe we could talk to somebody and get it changed for you.”

katherine shook her head, sniffling. “i can’t.”

“of course you can,” jane persists gently. “if it’s hurting you then-”

“no, it’s not that,” katherine pauses, tears still tracking down her face. “I need to tell my story on my terms and not... his. i need to do my song. it’s just... so hard.” she chokes out the last two words and her eyes squeeze shut, hands clutching at her own hair.

jane pulls back her hand, leaving it lingering in the air. it's then that she takes in the full weight of katherine's words. "oh," she breaths, long and slow and very quiet. katherine begins to curl up tighter, her hands grabbing at fistfuls of hair. some instinct inside jane tells her that katherine is most definitely about to have a panic attack. she very lightly places her hands on katherine's biceps, just barely enough contact to ground her. "katherine? can you hear me? it's jane. it's just me." katherine begins to shake. "it's jane. he's not here. he can't hurt you anymore." her tone is feather light and china delicate as she tries to calm the near-hysterical girl in front of her. "it's alright, love."

katherine’s breathing keeps getting faster and faster, and jane realises if she doesn’t do something soon then she might hyperventilate.

“katherine, can you hear me?” she asks again, more urgently this time. “just concentrate on my voice, sweetheart. if you can hear me, you need to breathe with me, okay? deep breath in and deep breath out.” katherine doesn’t give any indication that she heard, but jane carries on. “here we go, katherine, can you breathe with me? in-” she takes a deep inhale, and to her relief katherine takes a breath, much smaller than jane’s own but at least a sign she could hear. “that’s so good, katherine, well done,” jane praises. “can you breathe out now?”

katherine’s chest feels impossibly tight, several knots tied between her heart and lungs, to the point where black spots are blurring her vision. she hears a voice cut through, kind yet firm. “can you breath out now?” katherine wants nothing more than to exhale, let all of the pain out, but something is pinching her chest. grief and trauma smother her senses until she nearly stops taking in air altogether and slumps into jane’s arms.

jane catches katherine as she practically collapses.

“katherine?” she says frantically, desperately trying to reach the almost unresponsive girl in her arms. “katherine, please, listen to me. you need to breathe.”

she could just about hear the strained wheezing breaths that katherine was taking and she practically winces at the sound; this was not good. “come on now, baby, you can do it,” she implores, taking katherine’s hand. “if you can hear me, squeeze my hand.”

there was no response for a few seconds. and then- jane feels the tiniest amount of pressure on her hand.

katherine’s brain is on hyperdrive. she can’t see or breath or do almost anything at all. then, again, jane’s voice, soft and loving, cuts through it all, pulling some of the wool from katherine’s head as her brain reacts just enough to barely squeeze jane’s hand. “that’s good, love,” jane says. “can you do it again?” little by little, katherine’s thoughts unfog. she’s still breathing fast and shallow, still shaking, but she’s no longer almost blacking out.

she manages to squeeze jane’s hand again, trying desperately to focus on her voice and follow her instructions. she takes a shaking breath in, and when jane tells her to release it she does, a tiny exhale that relieves her lungs for just a moment. jane keeps murmuring reassurance, helping her through her breathing, until she can manage it by herself.

“that’s it, love,” jane says, a little louder than her previous whispers of reassurances once katherine is breathing on her own again. “you did so well.” her own breath hitches in her throat as she picks her next words. “i’m so proud of you, sweetheart.” even as katherine’s breathing returns to normal and her trembling subsides, jane does not let go, still holding her in a warm and comforting embrace.

katherine seems exhausted, leaning against jane without any thought. the tear tracks on her cheeks smudge against the fabric of jane’s shirt and her eyes are still closed, although no longer squeezed shut. jane keeps her arms around her and allows katherine to put her weight against her; regardless of the situation it wasn’t as if katherine was particularly heavy. katherine takes a breath and finally opens her eyes.

with a very soft touch, jane brings her hand to the back of katherine’s hair, caressing the soft locks. “that’s it, my darling,” she whispers lovingly. “that’s it.”

katherine sniffles quietly, bringing a hand up to wipe the tears off her face. she opens her mouth slightly to speak but her voice catches in her throat and she closes it again, making an indistinguishable mumble instead. she looks up at jane, slight anxiousness in her eyes, and jane smiles gently at her, not stopping her slow comforting movements, and katherine lets out a quiet sigh and leans her head against jane’s shoulder.

jane’s heart twists as katherine relaxes into her hold. “such a brave girl,” she whispers, barely loud enough to reach katherine’s ears. kat’s throat finally unconstricts. “can i ask you something?” her voice is timid and shaky and raw. “of course, sweetheart,” jane answers in that same calm and loving voice. “why...why are you doing all of this?”

jane answers without a pause, in a tone so honest that katherine can’t help but listen.

“we’re friends, katherine. and this is what friends do, they help each other.” she offers katherine a soft smile. “at least, i hope we’re friends. i’d like to be your friend, kat.” the nickname slips out without jane really thinking and katherine’s eyes widen slightly.

“...you really mean it?” she asks quietly.

katherine’s voice was so young and pained that jane’s heart hurt. “yes, kat, i mean everything i’ve said to you.” she smiles that gentle, loving smile. “i wouldn’t lie to you, love”

katherine smiles, a genuine smile that lights up her face. “thank you,” she says. “for coming after me.”

“i’m here anytime you need me,” jane squeezes her hand reassuringly. “that’s a promise, kat.”

a few moments pass in silence, save for katherine’s occasional sigh. then jane speaks again, “they’ll probably be expecting us soon, are you ready to go back?” katherine doesn’t, for some reason, want to leave the warm embrace of the woman she barely knows? but she does, nodding. “i think so.”

when they return to the room, the choreographer is bustling around collecting her things. “i just got an urgent call, i have to leave,” she explains. the music director stands up from behind the piano. “we’re going to work on the non-dance heavy song,” her eyes fix on jane, “miss seymour, you’re up.”

jane steps forwards. she actually is really fond of her song; there was a lot of emotion behind it, but the lyrics were so beautiful and it felt so good to sing too. she feels a sense of calm, standing ready to perform, a feeling that settles around her and makes her hold her head just a tiny bit higher. the pianist begins to play the introduction and jane takes a deep breath, then starts to sing.

from the moment the first note leaves jane’s throat, katherine is enraptured. the song is so powerful, so tragic, yet jane carries herself with a quiet pride that nearly startles katherine. when jane chokes on the final chorus, emotions charging her system and tears running down her cheeks, katherine wants nothing more than to run and hug jane like they had earlier. it’s a strange feeling, and katherine can’t quite figure out where it’s coming from

she can’t bring herself to, not in front of everyone, but she shoots jane a sympathetic glance when she finishes singing. jane catches her eyes and sends her a weak smile, wiping the tears from her eyes with her sleeve.

“you okay?” katherine mouths hesitantly, and jane smiles just a little wider at that. she gives a small nod.

it doesn’t feel enough to katherine, and the urge to hug jane and make sure she’s better continues, but she lets jane take notes from the musical director. she waits in her assigned spot, picking at a loose thread on the hem of her shirt, but she notices jane sending her glances from across the room. she can’t quite work out the emotion behind them but it makes a smile quirk on her lips regardless.

jane is forced to sing the song four more times. each time ends with more tears, more sympathetic glances, and more of katherine’s wish to hug jane. finally she is given a break. jane makes her way towards the hall. with her hand on the knob, she catches katherine’s eyes and flicks her head back subtly, beckoning her to come with. they head into the hallway, and the door is barely closed before katherine instinctually throws her arms around jane and holds her tight. she can’t even think of words to say.

jane hugs her back fiercely, letting the tears fall freely down her face in the relative privacy of the hallway. katherine hesitantly reaches up and begins to trace her fingers through jane’s hair in the same way jane had to her before.

jane makes a strangled whimper of a noise at the touch, and katherine shoots back, afraid she overstepped a line. “sorry,” she mumbles instinctually. jane, through teary eyes, looks at her confusedly. “for what, love?” she asks in that same gentle tone. “did i upset you?”

jane takes both of katherine’s hands in her own. “it’s been a long time since someone has been there for me like that,” she explains. “but you have done nothing wrong, kat.” she pulls the girl back into her arms. “nothing at all,” she whispers.

katherine clings even tighter to jane, wanting desperately to make sure she was okay, to bring her just the tiniest fraction of the comfort that jane brought her. she starts to tear up slightly too, although she can’t quite work out why. jane’s tears start to subside, and she pulls back enough to look at katherine and offer her a half smile.

“are...are you feeling any better?” katherine clumsily asks. she’s as unfamiliar with comforting someone as she is with being comforted. “i’ll be right back.” she dashes down the hall and jane’s heart sinks. she thinks she just scared off katherine, because of course katherine would be skittish. just as she’s about to turn to go back to the rehearsal room, fresh tears threatening to fall, katherine comes back around the corner, bathroom paper towels in hand.

katherine offers the paper towels to jane who takes one, unable to hide a small smile.

“thank you, kat,” she says. “you’re such a sweetheart.”

katherine plays with the ends of her pink hair while jane wipes her tears away, hovering awkwardly.

“your song was beautiful, by the way,” she says in a rush. “you have an amazing voice.”

“thank you,” jane says quietly. she sighs and closes her eyes. “i always wanted to sing to my son, but i...” she lets out a sharp laugh, “that didn’t work out the way i imagined, huh?”

there’s a different tone in jane’s voice that katherine can’t help but wince at. the soft and gentle words forgotten, replaced by sharp resentment and old bitterness that must have been cultivated by years of regret. “jane?” katherine cautiously interrupts the woman’s thoughts. “are you sure you’re alright?”

jane sighs again, running a hand absently through her hair. “as alright as i can be, i suppose.”

katherine just gives a small nod. “i understand,” she says quietly. a moment of solidarity passes between them, an understanding of the situation that was pushed on not only them but all the queens; they would have to relive these painful memories every day. the moment was broken by the musical director opening the door to the rehearsal room and peering out at them, frowning slightly.

“oh, there you are, good. the break’s over, so it’s time to work out the harmonies for the finale.” the musical director goes back into the room and jane smooths out her clothing and wipes any trace of tears off her face.

jane, completely absentmindedly, reaches out and pushes a stray lock of pink hair behind katherine’s ear, then lets her fingers tenderly slide down across her jawline. she pulls back. “back to it, i guess,” she says aloud, but more to herself than kat. she secretly wishes they didn’t have to go back, that they could sit and talk and be there for each other. ‘not yet,’ a voice in jane’s head reminds her, ‘don’t push your luck.’

“yeah,” katherine says, sounding almost disappointed. “back to it.” she fidgets slightly as if wanting to say something else, but then she simply nods her head questioningly at the door and jane understands. she can’t quite resist taking katherine’s hand to lead her back to the room, and katherine pauses for a moment. jane briefly panics that she’s pushed katherine too far, but then katherine allows her to lead her over to the door without any warning signs.

they work on the finale harmonies sitting in a line. everyone once in a while, jane subtly passes a hand over and squeezes lightly on katherine’s wrist or knee, just as a silent reassurance of “i’m here, it’s okay.”

[lewiscarrollsocietynorthamerica]

CHAPTER I. Down the Rabbit-Hole

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, ‘and what is the use of a book,’ thought Alice ‘without pictures or conversations?’

So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her.

There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it so very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, ‘Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be late!’ (when she thought it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but when the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waistcoat-pocket, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge.

In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.

The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very deep well.

Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to wonder what was going to happen next. First, she tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves; here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs. She took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed; it was labelled ‘ORANGE MARMALADE’, but to her great disappointment it was empty: she did not like to drop the jar for fear of killing somebody, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she fell past it.

‘Well!’ thought Alice to herself, ‘after such a fall as this, I shall think nothing of tumbling down stairs! How brave they’ll all think me at home! Why, I wouldn’t say anything about it, even if I fell off the top of the house!’ (Which was very likely true.)

Down, down, down. Would the fall never come to an end! ‘I wonder how many miles I’ve fallen by this time?’ she said aloud. ‘I must be getting somewhere near the centre of the earth. Let me see: that would be four thousand miles down, I think—’ (for, you see, Alice had learnt several things of this sort in her lessons in the schoolroom, and though this was not a very good opportunity for showing off her knowledge, as there was no one to listen to her, still it was good practice to say it over) ‘—yes, that’s about the right distance—but then I wonder what Latitude or Longitude I’ve got to?’ (Alice had no idea what Latitude was, or Longitude either, but thought they were nice grand words to say.)

Presently she began again. ‘I wonder if I shall fall right through the earth! How funny it’ll seem to come out among the people that walk with their heads downward! The Antipathies, I think—’ (she was rather glad there was no one listening, this time, as it didn’t sound at all the right word) ‘—but I shall have to ask them what the name of the country is, you know. Please, Ma’am, is this New Zealand or Australia?’ (and she tried to curtsey as she spoke—fancy curtseying as you’re falling through the air! Do you think you could manage it?) ‘And what an ignorant little girl she’ll think me for asking! No, it’ll never do to ask: perhaps I shall see it written up somewhere.’

Down, down, down. There was nothing else to do, so Alice soon began talking again. ‘Dinah’ll miss me very much to-night, I should think!’ (Dinah was the cat.) ‘I hope they’ll remember her saucer of milk at tea-time. Dinah my dear! I wish you were down here with me! There are no mice in the air, I’m afraid, but you might catch a bat, and that’s very like a mouse, you know. But do cats eat bats, I wonder?’ And here Alice began to get rather sleepy, and went on saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of way, ‘Do cats eat bats? Do cats eat bats?’ and sometimes, ‘Do bats eat cats?’ for, you see, as she couldn’t answer either question, it didn’t much matter which way she put it. She felt that she was dozing off, and had just begun to dream that she was walking hand in hand with Dinah, and saying to her very earnestly, ‘Now, Dinah, tell me the truth: did you ever eat a bat?’ when suddenly, thump! thump! down she came upon a heap of sticks and dry leaves, and the fall was over.

Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a moment: she looked up, but it was all dark overhead; before her was another long passage, and the White Rabbit was still in sight, hurrying down it. There was not a moment to be lost: away went Alice like the wind, and was just in time to hear it say, as it turned a corner, ‘Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it’s getting!’ She was close behind it when she turned the corner, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen: she found herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps hanging from the roof.

There were doors all round the hall, but they were all locked; and when Alice had been all the way down one side and up the other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle, wondering how she was ever to get out again.

Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of solid glass; there was nothing on it except a tiny golden key, and Alice’s first thought was that it might belong to one of the doors of the hall; but, alas! either the locks were too large, or the key was too small, but at any rate it would not open any of them. However, on the second time round, she came upon a low curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little door about fifteen inches high: she tried the little golden key in the lock, and to her great delight it fitted!

Alice opened the door and found that it led into a small passage, not much larger than a rat-hole: she knelt down and looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw. How she longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about among those beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains, but she could not even get her head through the doorway; ‘and even if my head would go through,’ thought poor Alice, ‘it would be of very little use without my shoulders. Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if I only knew how to begin.’ For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things had happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few things indeed were really impossible.

There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes: this time she found a little bottle on it, (‘which certainly was not here before,’ said Alice,) and round the neck of the bottle was a paper label, with the words ‘DRINK ME’ beautifully printed on it in large letters.

It was all very well to say ‘Drink me,’ but the wise little Alice was not going to do that in a hurry. ‘No, I’ll look first,’ she said, ‘and see whether it’s marked “poison” or not’; for she had read several nice little histories about children who had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts and other unpleasant things, all because they would not remember the simple rules their friends had taught them: such as, that a red-hot poker will burn you if you hold it too long; and that if you cut your finger very deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and she had never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked ‘poison,’ it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.

However, this bottle was not marked ‘poison,’ so Alice ventured to taste it, and finding it very nice, (it had, in fact, a sort of mixed flavour of cherry-tart, custard, pine-apple, roast turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast,) she very soon finished it off.

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

‘What a curious feeling!’ said Alice; ‘I must be shutting up like a telescope.’

And so it was indeed: she was now only ten inches high, and her face brightened up at the thought that she was now the right size for going through the little door into that lovely garden. First, however, she waited for a few minutes to see if she was going to shrink any further: she felt a little nervous about this; ‘for it might end, you know,’ said Alice to herself, ‘in my going out altogether, like a candle. I wonder what I should be like then?’ And she tried to fancy what the flame of a candle is like after the candle is blown out, for she could not remember ever having seen such a thing.

After a while, finding that nothing more happened, she decided on going into the garden at once; but, alas for poor Alice! when she got to the door, she found she had forgotten the little golden key, and when she went back to the table for it, she found she could not possibly reach it: she could see it quite plainly through the glass, and she tried her best to climb up one of the legs of the table, but it was too slippery; and when she had tired herself out with trying, the poor little thing sat down and cried.

‘Come, there’s no use in crying like that!’ said Alice to herself, rather sharply; ‘I advise you to leave off this minute!’ She generally gave herself very good advice, (though she very seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into her eyes; and once she remembered trying to box her own ears for having cheated herself in a game of croquet she was playing against herself, for this curious child was very fond of pretending to be two people. ‘But it’s no use now,’ thought poor Alice, ‘to pretend to be two people! Why, there’s hardly enough of me left to make one respectable person!’

Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under the table: she opened it, and found in it a very small cake, on which the words ‘EAT ME’ were beautifully marked in currants. ‘Well, I’ll eat it,’ said Alice, ‘and if it makes me grow larger, I can reach the key; and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep under the door; so either way I’ll get into the garden, and I don’t care which happens!’

She ate a little bit, and said anxiously to herself, ‘Which way? Which way?’, holding her hand on the top of her head to feel which way it was growing, and she was quite surprised to find that she remained the same size: to be sure, this generally happens when one eats cake, but Alice had got so much into the way of expecting nothing but out-of-the-way things to happen, that it seemed quite dull and stupid for life to go on in the common way.

So she set to work, and very soon finished off the cake.

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

[moddernallanpoe]

Chapter 1, Down The Rabbit-Hole

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, ‘and what is the use of a book,’ thought Alice ‘without pictures or conversations?’

So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her.

There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it so very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, ‘Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be late!’ (when she thought it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but when the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waistcoat-pocket, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge.

In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.

The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very deep well.

Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to wonder what was going to happen next. First, she tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves; here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs. She took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed; it was labelled ‘ORANGE MARMALADE’, but to her great disappointment it was empty: she did not like to drop the jar for fear of killing somebody, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she fell past it.

‘Well!’ thought Alice to herself, ‘after such a fall as this, I shall think nothing of tumbling down stairs! How brave they’ll all think me at home! Why, I wouldn’t say anything about it, even if I fell off the top of the house!’ (Which was very likely true.)

Down, down, down. Would the fall never come to an end! ‘I wonder how many miles I’ve fallen by this time?’ she said aloud. ‘I must be getting somewhere near the centre of the earth. Let me see: that would be four thousand miles down, I think—’ (for, you see, Alice had learnt several things of this sort in her lessons in the schoolroom, and though this was not a very good opportunity for showing off her knowledge, as there was no one to listen to her, still it was good practice to say it over) ‘—yes, that’s about the right distance—but then I wonder what Latitude or Longitude I’ve got to?’ (Alice had no idea what Latitude was, or Longitude either, but thought they were nice grand words to say.)

Presently she began again. ‘I wonder if I shall fall right through the earth! How funny it’ll seem to come out among the people that walk with their heads downward! The Antipathies, I think—’ (she was rather glad there was no one listening, this time, as it didn’t sound at all the right word) ‘—but I shall have to ask them what the name of the country is, you know. Please, Ma’am, is this New Zealand or Australia?’ (and she tried to curtsey as she spoke—fancy curtseying as you’re falling through the air! Do you think you could manage it?) ‘And what an ignorant little girl she’ll think me for asking! No, it’ll never do to ask: perhaps I shall see it written up somewhere.’

Down, down, down. There was nothing else to do, so Alice soon began talking again. ‘Dinah’ll miss me very much to-night, I should think!’ (Dinah was the cat.) ‘I hope they’ll remember her saucer of milk at tea-time. Dinah my dear! I wish you were down here with me! There are no mice in the air, I’m afraid, but you might catch a bat, and that’s very like a mouse, you know. But do cats eat bats, I wonder?’ And here Alice began to get rather sleepy, and went on saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of way, ‘Do cats eat bats? Do cats eat bats?’ and sometimes, ‘Do bats eat cats?’ for, you see, as she couldn’t answer either question, it didn’t much matter which way she put it. She felt that she was dozing off, and had just begun to dream that she was walking hand in hand with Dinah, and saying to her very earnestly, ‘Now, Dinah, tell me the truth: did you ever eat a bat?’ when suddenly, thump! thump! down she came upon a heap of sticks and dry leaves, and the fall was over.

Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a moment: she looked up, but it was all dark overhead; before her was another long passage, and the White Rabbit was still in sight, hurrying down it. There was not a moment to be lost: away went Alice like the wind, and was just in time to hear it say, as it turned a corner, ‘Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it’s getting!’ She was close behind it when she turned the corner, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen: she found herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps hanging from the roof.

There were doors all round the hall, but they were all locked; and when Alice had been all the way down one side and up the other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle, wondering how she was ever to get out again.

Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of solid glass; there was nothing on it except a tiny golden key, and Alice’s first thought was that it might belong to one of the doors of the hall; but, alas! either the locks were too large, or the key was too small, but at any rate it would not open any of them. However, on the second time round, she came upon a low curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little door about fifteen inches high: she tried the little golden key in the lock, and to her great delight it fitted!

Alice opened the door and found that it led into a small passage, not much larger than a rat-hole: she knelt down and looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw. How she longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about among those beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains, but she could not even get her head through the doorway; ‘and even if my head would go through,’ thought poor Alice, ‘it would be of very little use without my shoulders. Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if I only knew how to begin.’ For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things had happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few things indeed were really impossible.

There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes: this time she found a little bottle on it, (‘which certainly was not here before,’ said Alice,) and round the neck of the bottle was a paper label, with the words ‘DRINK ME’ beautifully printed on it in large letters.

It was all very well to say ‘Drink me,’ but the wise little Alice was not going to do that in a hurry. ‘No, I’ll look first,’ she said, ‘and see whether it’s marked “poison” or not’; for she had read several nice little histories about children who had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts and other unpleasant things, all because they would not remember the simple rules their friends had taught them: such as, that a red-hot poker will burn you if you hold it too long; and that if you cut your finger very deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and she had never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked ‘poison,’ it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.

However, this bottle was not marked ‘poison,’ so Alice ventured to taste it, and finding it very nice, (it had, in fact, a sort of mixed flavour of cherry-tart, custard, pine-apple, roast turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast,) she very soon finished it off.

  *    *    *    *    *    *    *

    *    *    *    *    *    *

  *    *    *    *    *    *    *

‘What a curious feeling!’ said Alice; ‘I must be shutting up like a telescope.’

And so it was indeed: she was now only ten inches high, and her face brightened up at the thought that she was now the right size for going through the little door into that lovely garden. First, however, she waited for a few minutes to see if she was going to shrink any further: she felt a little nervous about this; ‘for it might end, you know,’ said Alice to herself, ‘in my going out altogether, like a candle. I wonder what I should be like then?’ And she tried to fancy what the flame of a candle is like after the candle is blown out, for she could not remember ever having seen such a thing.

After a while, finding that nothing more happened, she decided on going into the garden at once; but, alas for poor Alice! when she got to the door, she found she had forgotten the little golden key, and when she went back to the table for it, she found she could not possibly reach it: she could see it quite plainly through the glass, and she tried her best to climb up one of the legs of the table, but it was too slippery; and when she had tired herself out with trying, the poor little thing sat down and cried.

‘Come, there’s no use in crying like that!’ said Alice to herself, rather sharply; ‘I advise you to leave off this minute!’ She generally gave herself very good advice, (though she very seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into her eyes; and once she remembered trying to box her own ears for having cheated herself in a game of croquet she was playing against herself, for this curious child was very fond of pretending to be two people. ‘But it’s no use now,’ thought poor Alice, ‘to pretend to be two people! Why, there’s hardly enough of me left to make one respectable person!’

Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under the table: she opened it, and found in it a very small cake, on which the words ‘EAT ME’ were beautifully marked in currants. ‘Well, I’ll eat it,’ said Alice, ‘and if it makes me grow larger, I can reach the key; and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep under the door; so either way I’ll get into the garden, and I don’t care which happens!’

She ate a little bit, and said anxiously to herself, ‘Which way? Which way?’, holding her hand on the top of her head to feel which way it was growing, and she was quite surprised to find that she remained the same size: to be sure, this generally happens when one eats cake, but Alice had got so much into the way of expecting nothing but out-of-the-way things to happen, that it seemed quite dull and stupid for life to go on in the common way.

So she set to work, and very soon finished off the cake.

[dicecast]

Rethinking of Star Wars: The Character of Darth Vader

In addition to being the most Iconic character in the whole series, Vader is kind of the emotional core of the movie, despite his being the villain and the antagonist.  When I talk about the original Star Wars being really weird, this is what I mean, who is the emotional core of these films?  You might say its Luke, but the movie is kinda weirdly distant from Luke, we don’t really delve that deeply into his head, the film seems a lot more excited to talk about Han Solo and Leia.  So are they the emotional core?  Well no, because in the third movie they just kinda stop doing stuff after awhile.  Is it the droids?  We are with them throughout the earliest bits of the movie, and their perspective seems to dominate about 50% of a New Hope, but not so much the other movies.   These movies don’t really have an emotional core the way that the first Matrix movie does, or Pirates of the Caribbean do, its more of a spectacle.  Because while these stories are a heroes journey, they are a really distant one (more on that later.

(There are emotional moments but not emotional themes) 

           The exception to this is Vader, who is a constant presence in all three movies, and in fact it is his decision which decides the final conflict.  Rewatch his scenes in the triology, and emotionally the camera is with Vader (except being his first confrontation with Luke), when he chokes the guy mocking his religion, that guy is presented as annoying and you get the anger in the scene.  When he is frustrated and obsessive in the second movie, the movie seems to display it, like the scene where the falcon gets away or when he is in his little life pod. The emotional high point of the third movie is Vader’s core.  Now I’m not saying this is particularly well done, or even deliberately experimental, only that it’s kinda weird considering how this movie is basically the king of main stream.

(pictured, emotions) 

           Vader is also the greatest failings of the prequal series, because Anakin from the original doesn’t resemble Vader at all.   And I don’t mean “oh Anakin is whiney he isn’t dignified” I mean the emotional logic of Vader’s actions doesn’t synth with the prequals.  

(this is more movement that Vader uses than like the entire original trilogy)

        See it’s a fallacy to assume that the only way you can devolve a character is by showing their back story (YOU HEAR THAT MARVEL).  In that blessed glorious time in the golden days before the prequals existed (aka my elementary school), you could look at Vader and try to imagine what made him into this monster.  Because Vader is remarkably well characterized, most of that credit going to his actors, and it is mostly done just through little things, namely his movements. Vader is heavy, he is slow, he is ponderous, all of his movements just feel like this evil glacier in human form is stalking around a space ship*. And this slowness isn’t combined with carefulness or even elegance, Vader feels heavy and brutish, walking straight into reality and just expecting it to get out of his fucking way.  All of this movement direction are tied to two core emotions.  Anger, and exhaustion.

(guess I will move my arm now)

    So I already talked about Vader’s relationship to anger earlier, but summing myself up. There are many different approaches to anger, and Vader’s is not explosive like in the prequels, Vad’ers anger is like a dull constantly burning ember, he is just kinda quitely pissed off all the time, basically moving via his constant hate.  But that doesn’t make him a passionately anger fellow, its burnout, he just occasionally snaps when his overwhelming frustration with everyone around him just kinda makes him at somebody not following the rules.  Its not explosive rage, nor a cold rage, it’s a constant low boiling frustration that has so consumed Vader that he only keeps going out of spite.   I could never picture Vader explosively slaughtering a whole village of people or even dramatically screaming at his mentor, I can see him just making a frustrated scoff and killing everybody in the area out of contempt because they wasted his time.

(Not ever bothering with villain banter, fuck off) 

   The other emotion that defines Vader is exhaustion, especially in the first movie, because is so fucking zoned out in that first movie.   Literally every single interaction he has in that movie except for his duel with Obi One is curt, brusque and dismissive, Leia is like “I defy you” and Vader is like “Yeah what ever, I don’t care move on”.  He stands in Tarkin’s meeting room like an extra prop, he feels so superfluous and barely interacts or move until somebody insults his religion, and even then he is like “oh well I guess I’ll hurt you”.  He is zonked out, and if you think about it, it makes sense.  Vader’s reason for joining the Empire and embracing the Dark Side aren’t clear in the original, but presumably he came out of some sense of believing in something, even if that thing wasn’t good.  Well after decades of atrocities and murdering most of his former friends, Vader has won, the empire is in control and he reigns supreme…and he still isn’t happy.   He is this massive badass and is just...doing his job because its what he does.  

 Based on how eager he is to turn Luke, my personal headcanon was that Vader wanted to remake the Jedi order in his new fascist empire, but the process of making the empire basically wiped it out, and now he is alone in an empire where his own subordinates say his religion is sad and outdated to his fucking face. Whatever goal Vader went into this for, it clearly hasn’t worked out for him, he is basically on rage field auto pilot.  

(phoning it in) 

Compare that to how he behaves in the second movie, Vader has so much fucking energy, he is focused on the task at hand, he is talking to people, it really does feel that for the first time in a decade he has found something worthy living for.  Which brings up something else, Vader always felt old to me, in fact he is referred to as old a few times, but he also just felt like an old exhausted man.  According to the prequals he is basically in his early 40s, which just feels wrong, Vader doesn’t feel like he is having a midlife crisis, he feels like somebody age is catching up to them and they are just sort of realizing how out of place they are.  I always pictured Vader in his early to mid-50s, I mean Obi One was 63 when he played Obi One, though you could believe him being a little older, I thought Vader was like ten years younger, and they had more of a peer relationship, that is what it feels like in their duel, two old men who are the last relic of a conflict which ended over a decade ago.  Vader’s fall to evil never felt to me like a dramatic sudden break, rather it felt like a slow steady loss of humanity over the course of decades, like John McCain.

(I wrote this before he died, I have very mixed feelings)

           And like a man who earnestly held principles to be valuable while betraying all of them simultaneously, Vader never espouses a morality or a philosopher, but he feels like somebody who’s sense of self is founded upon some sense of duty and purpose, even though both have long ago been lost.  He earnestly is deeply religious concerning the force, and in the third movie seems largely ok with the Emperor letting him be killed by Luke in order to cause his son to fall to the dark side (First time I wrote that I wrote Dark Souls and suddenly Star Wars became a lot cooler).  He feels like somebody who does everything he does due to duty, even though its meaning is long past, so the Dark Souls reference I accidentally made wasn’t actually all that off point.  

(an armored man following rules long past their relevance) 

           Actually seriously now, do you know which character Vader reminds me of more than anybody else. Leo McGarry from The West Wing, I mean imagine if Leo McGarry’s master wasn’t Barlet but somebody vile and destructive who encouraged his own anger and frustration, and imagine if he didn’t have a family or friends who could help him alienate his own pain, and he just comes this manifestation of a system that he enacts without understanding it.  

           It’s also interesting to me because Vader is such a Kinetic person, I mean the is basically second in command of the Empire and the main enforcer, why is he flying a Tie fighter around personally?  Can’t he delegate this shit, doesn’t he have like administration or something to deal with? For somebody who is trapped in a robot suit which doesn’t move very much, he is clearly somebody who likes to move around, when I was really little I never really got that he was a cyborg just in how human his movements seemed to be.  I think Darth Vader isn’t somebody who thinks very critically or questions his decisions once his made them, so when all of his life chocies have made him miserable and hollow, he just kinda distracts himself by going to people’s houses and kicking their doors down, cause you know, its active.  

(like, why is he doing this, delegate man, your not commander Shepard) 

           All this combined actually comes together quite nicely at the ending or rather, it is one of the only two character arcs that are complete in Star Wars, Vader changes in each movie.  This is not fantastic story telling by any means, but Vader is the most iconic character for a reason, and his emotional arc is kinda more important than Luke for reasons I will get into later (seriously Luke’s story line is really weird). In the first movie, he is totally burned out, just kinda doing the Empire’s will out of inertia, and is so exhausted he basically on auto-pilot.  The only three scenes where he seems like he is paying attention is when somebody insults his religion, Obi One shows up, and Luke gives him a hard time in the Death Star Trench.  Rest of the time he just phoning it in. 

(weeeeee)

 In the second movie, Vader seems alive, active, mobile, like he actually has something to care about, and it is also freakily obsessive.  I know there is this meme of Vader murdering people at the drop of a hat, but I think that is less Vader and more this particular point in Vader’s life, he doesn’t kill anybody in the first movie, in fact a guy basically feels so confident that he again..insults Vader’s religion to his face. Sure he gets chocked afterwards, but can you imagine anybody doing that in the second movie?  Sometime between New Hope and Empire, Vader seems to have figured out who Luke is and now he has purpose, a goal, turn Luke and remade the Jedi order, since Palpetine seems to not to give a shit, so Vader is heading to that, regardless of how many ships he throws away officers he murders.  And at the climax of Empire he just…kinda retreats back into his depression, and mopes away.  .  

(jump to 10:35, I couldn’t get the whole sequence) 

   And while Jedi doesn’t focus that much on its main story (more on that later), Vader here seems to be totally conflicted even before Luke shows up. He is surely and unfocused, and basically is letting the Emperor take the wheels, except of course the Emperor doesn’t give a shit.  But it isn’t burnout, it’s the realization tht Vader might have to actually you know…consider an alternative possibility.  Before the Prequals corrupt our imagination of the past, the impression I had of Vader was a man who set a goal for himself and basically followed it for decades, even though in the process he kinda destroyed the thing he was trying to protect.  He is basically a hyper lawful person who isn’t creative enough to consider alternative possibilities, and only now with his family involved, does Vader actually thinking larger thoughts rather than immediate goals.  Going back to my thesis that the Force=Emotional Health, then Vader is finally realizing that his way of coping with the world and his emotions isn’t working at all, and he needs to actually choose what he wants.  

(wait...I have autonomy?) 

And even so, it takes him so fucking long to make up his mind at the end, because Vader is a really clannish type of person, he values his “Group” over everybody else, and picking between his master and his son is a hard choice.  And then he dies, movie over.  Honestly, Jedi kinda fails, but it has a pretty good arc for Vader, it’s the story about a fascist who questions “why did I become this?” You know that scene from pan’s Labyrinth where Captain Vidal slices his own reflections throat?  That is basically Vader character arc in a single scene

[backpfeifenguy]

BBRAE Week 2018 Day 4: It’s 3AM

Beast Boy opened his eyes, something he was pleasantly surprised by. After all, when somebody loses consciousness due to blood loss in an alley, they don’t exactly expect to wake up. He was in a lot of pain, which made sense, all things considered. But he was familiar with pain; on a scale that included his time with Doctor Register, this rated as a five out of ten, six when he moved too suddenly.

“Dude,” He moaned to nobody in particular. “What happened?”

“Nothin’ good, Grass Stain.” Vic answered, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Blood loss, fractures, burns… you’re lucky to be alive.” Beast Boy looked around the dark infirmary, seeing Raven in the bed next to his.

“Is Raven okay?” He asked the instant he saw her. “She’s not hurt, is she?”

“Is Raven- Is Raven okay?!” Victor spluttered incredulously. “You have a brush with death and you’re worried about her?” He shook his head, smiling to himself. “She’s fine man; a couple bruises and a bad case of exhaustion.” He smiled reassuringly. “She just needs a little rest, B.”

“Healing me must’ve taken everything she had.” Beast Boy murmured. “She said she wouldn’t let me die.” Suddenly, a spectre of recollection reared its ugly head. “Oh no…” He groaned.

“What’s wrong, man?” His best friend asked, concern, possibly even panic, in his voice.

“I can’t believe I told her all that!” The changeling whimpered.

“Told who?” Vic enquired, sounding equal parts worried and annoyed.

“Raven!” Beast Boy exclaimed.  

“...Well damn, now I’m just curious.” Victor shrugged. “So what’d you tell her, Grass Stain?”

“I told her that I love her.” He groaned.

“Okay, Am I missing something?” Victor asked after a moment of confused silence. “Because I don’t see what the problem is.”

“She’s gonna freak out when she wakes up!” Beast Boy exclaimed angrily. “I can’t believe I just sprang it on her like that!”

“Seriously, B?” Victor scoffed. “You’re worried that your girlfriend, the empath might not have been ready for you to use the ‘L’ word?”

“She probably wasn’t ready for me to start talking about marrying her!” Beast Boy squealed.

“You’re not wrong.” Raven deadpanned.

“Raven?!” Gar squeaked “You’re awake?”

“And that’s my cue to leave.” Vic muttered, leaving slightly faster than Gar felt was necessary.  

“Did he seriously just bail on you?” Raven asked.

“Yep, he bailed.” Gar confirmed.

“Some friend he is.” Raven muttered shaking her head. “So… are you okay?”

“Not too bad,” Gar shrugged, wincing as he did so. “I’m not doing too great, but I’ll live. You okay?”

“Just tired.” Raven replied simply. “You took my beating for me, remember?”

“Vaguely.” Gar chuckled.

“Well… I guess we’d better address the elephant in the room.”

“I can’t shapeshift until I’ve healed properly,” Gar stated bluntly. “Otherwise I’d be an elephant right now.”

“Of course you would,” Raven rolled her eyes. “Because Azar forbid you actually take this seriously.”

“You want serious?” Gar asked, taking his girlfriend’s words as a challenge. “Fine, let’s get serious. We’re in the infirmary, and Vic’s probably eavesdropping, but who cares?”

“If he is, he’ll regret it.” Raven replied, a warning for their friend. After a moment, they heard the sound of an extremely heavy man running away on feet made of metal. “Victor’s gone, and so is your excuse to avoid awkward conversations.”

“Fine,” Gar groaned; he really wasn’t ready for this conversation. “What’s first?”

“You nearly died.” Raven said flatly. “You nearly got yourself killed being an overly sentimental idiot.”

“They said they were demon hunters!” “Gar responded, trying his best not to let his irritation show. “They landed a hit on you, and I went kind of nuts, okay? It wasn’t a conscious decision.”

“It was one sloppy punch.” Raven pointed out. “They weren’t exactly cutting me to ribbons.”

“My instincts didn’t seem to care.” Gar shrugged. “And honestly, I agree with them.”

“It was stupid and reckless!” Raven snapped.

“And burning yourself out to heal me wasn’t?” He shot back. “Besides, we both know that isn’t the real issue here.”

“You’re right,” Raven agreed. “It’s not. When you were… injured, you said that you loved me.” She blushed faintly; god, he loved that blush. It was something that the rest of the world didn’t get to see, a moment of openness, a reminder that, around him, she felt comfortable letting her guard down almost completely. “And, well… did you mean it?”

“Can’t you tell?” Gar asked, genuinely confused. “You’re an empath, after all.”

“I need to hear you say it.” Raven said, almost pleading.

“I meant every word of it.” Gar replied simply. “I love you, and I’ll keep saying it as many times as you want me to.”

“And the other thing?” Raven asked, her voice hopeful and her face terrified. “Did you mean that too?”

“...Screw it.” Gar shrugged. “I wish I could’ve gotten this right, but hey, why start now, am I right?” He hoisted himself off of the infirmary bed, wincing as various body parts lodged complaints. “No time like the present.” He felt the wound in his thigh reopen as he lowered himself to one knee. “Raven, I love you with all my heart. Will you marry me?” At first she was silent, and Gar felt himself beginning to worry that he might have made a mistake.

“Yes.” She whispered. “Yes!” She threw her arms around him. “I love you too, so much it feels like I’m going crazy.” She kissed him, soft and chaste. “Of course I’ll marry you.” Another kiss, considerably less innocent. “And if you weren’t still injured, I’d rip that hospital gown right off of you and--”

“Rae, as much as I’d love to hear the end of that sentence,” Beast Boy reluctantly interrupted his fiancee (fiancee!). “We’ve got an audience.” He pointed to the door, where Kori, Dick and Victor stood.

“Oh no,” Their leader smirked. “Don’t let us stop you. Just pretend we’re not here.”

“Dude, it’s 3 AM!” Beast Boy exclaimed. “Why are you guys even awake?”

“I asked Vic to tell me when you guys were awake.” Dick replied.

“And I was awoken due to my being asleep beside boyfriend Richard after a vigorous session of lovemaking!” Kori offered cheerfully, causing Dick to blush to the roots of his hair. Kori had once told Beast Boy in confidence that she knew how much it flustered Dick when she was candid about the physical side of their relationship, which was why she was so candid about it in the first place.

“I was going to ask you for information on your attackers, but the debriefing can wait until morning.” Nightwing said, clearly eager to change the subject.

“It sounds to me like you already got some debriefing done while we were out cold.” Beast Boy snickered.

“And it sounds to me,” Victor interjected. “Like Raven was planning to do a little debriefing of her own.” Beast Boy could feel himself blushing.

“Oh, what glorious news!” Kori exclaimed, flying in and sweeping Beast Boy into a hug like a hydraulic press.

“Star,” Raven said levelly. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather you didn’t suffocate my fiancee.”

“Oh!” Starfire released him. “My apologies friend Garfield, I did not mean to cause you harm!”

“It’s cool.” Beast Boy croaked.

“I guess congratulations are in order.” Dick began, smiling earnestly. “We’re all happy for you.”

“You won’t be happy for long,” Beast Boy snickered. “After all, you’ve got a lot of explaining to do when Star starts to wonder why We got engaged before you did.” And just like that, their fearless leader went white as a sheet.

“I, uhh… I should go.” Dick stammered nervously. “You guys need your rest.” And with that, he bolted, with Kori in hot pursuit.

“Two down,” Beast Boy smirked. “One to go.”

“You ain’t shiftin’ me that easy, Grass Stain,” Victor grinned. “Unlike Bird Boy, I don’t turn tail and run from unexpected emotional intimacy.”

“Vic,” Raven began, her tone patient. “You know I care about you.”

“Same to you, Rae,” Victor smiled warmly. “You’re like my little sister.”

“I know,” Raven nodded. “I’m counting on it. Because if you don’t give us some privacy until morning, I’ll begin to describe Garfield and my sex life.” She sounded deadly serious. “In graphic detail.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Victor replied, narrowing his eyes. “That’d be getting way too personal, and you don’t do personal.”

“Gar does,” Raven replied simply. “And I’m giving him permission to do so effective immediately.”

Beast Boy grinned evilly as his best friend turned to face him, fear in his eyes. “You know I’ll do it.”

“You win, you win!” Vic shouted in a panic, backing out the door.

“We’re way too good at messing with them.” Gar noted.

“Absolutely.” Raven agreed. “This sort of power is sure to corrupt us.”

“You sure it hasn’t already done that?” Gar shot back.

“You might have a point.” She smirked. “So…”

“So…” Gar chuckled. “What now?”

“I’ll be blunt;” Raven replied. “I’m thinking that I’d prefer a long engagement.”

“Works for me,” Gar shrugged, trying and failing to keep a huge, giddy grin off of his face. “I wouldn’t want you to rush into anything.”

“And I’ll want to see this ring you’ve ‘already picked out’ before you buy it.” She stated plainly.

“Makes sense.” Gar nodded. “After all, you’ll be the one wearing it.”

“I suppose we’ll have to tell Titans East and all the others.” Raven said, seemingly going through an internal checklist.”

“Heck, tell the villains while we’re at it.” Gar joked.

“But for now,” Raven said. “I say we get some sleep in a bed that’s actually comfortable. Mine, for example.”

“It’s like you read my mind.” Gar grinned, throwing one arm over her shoulder.

“And just to be clear,” Raven said, her tone carrying the merest hint of mischief. “I retain the right to act on my previously-stated intentions vis a vis that hospital gown.”

“Thank god I heal so fast.”

[ash818]

hi ash, how are you? Was wondering what Jon and Tish were up to these days?

It is not possible, as it turns out, to involve yourself with only one Queen.

They are all hopelessly tangled in each other’s lives, and to love one of them is to surrender to the rest, who will adopt your troubles as their troubles and your triumphs as their triumphs. Aunt Thea settles in next to you, swirling a glass of wine, and smiles as if she knows your secrets just before deftly teasing them out of you. Mrs. Queen tiptoes up to the edge of her children’s boundaries, but she can’t resist peeking over; mostly, she is too sincere to refuse. Abigail doesn’t even bother to tiptoe. Mr. Queen is the most hands-off, but even he quietly smooths over little difficulties behind your back. You don’t find out that he’s done it until months later, if ever.

So when Mrs. Queen was struggling to find an administrative assistant not long after my graduation, I suppose she found it perfectly natural to ask me.

“I can’t exactly post ‘occasional vigilantism’ as a requirement on LinkedIn,” she told me. “But the secret is safe with you, and you have the requisite skill set. I think you’d be perfect. Ideal. Sans pareil.” She tilted her head faintly. “Did I say that right?”

I tried to be gentle when I pointed out, “My boyfriend’s mother would be my boss.”

“Is that weird?” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m Jon’s boss, and it’s not weird. You know if you get tired of him, you still get to stay. I hope that’s not your concern. You can keep coming to family dinners and everything.”

That honestly had not occurred to me. “Wouldn’t the rest of the office consider it blatant nepotism?”

“With Jon, they got over it as soon as they realized he wasn’t useless. You’ll be fine too.” She leaned closer to me and said earnestly, “Look, I could really use the help.”

I knew as much; Jon had been complaining for months that she shouldn’t be going it alone anymore.

“I know you’re looking for something in your field, but it seems like that might take some time. This is only a first job to get you started and build a little work history, just until you find something better.”

As I said, Mrs. Queen is too sincere to refuse.

When I came into the office to formally accept her offer, she shook my hand across her desk and said, “Don’t breathe a word to Jon. I want to surprise him.”

My first morning at Panoptic, she called Jon into her office to meet her new admin, and she had a good giggle at the look on his face. But the shock wore off in about five minutes, and at the first opportunity, he tried to back me against a wall and put his hands up my shirt.

“This was nowhere in the job description,” I said, once I had worked up some self-control.

“Nope.” He bent down to kiss my neck. “This is just perks.”

It took me longer than it should have to push him backwards, but eventually I managed it. “Your mother did not hire me to make your life more fun.”

“Of course she didn’t. That would be messed up.” He sighed theatrically. “So no bending you over my desk.”

Heat washed through me, and I closed my eyes and let myself imagine it for just a moment. With an effort, I shook my head. “No inappropriate use of any desks.”

In my first week as Felicity Queen’s admin, I learned to navigate her unusual scheduling software, the source code of which she had modified heavily to suit her preferences. I learned to document meetings in her idiosyncratic system, to recognize her frantic hand signal for, “Tell them I’m busy,” and to brew coffee strong enough to wake the dead.

A few of the employees - mostly protectors who had guarded me in the past - welcomed me enthusiastically. The others reserved judgment, and I overheard at least one joke in the break room, speculating on what I had really been hired to do here, which cemented my resolve about desks and the uses thereof.

On my sixth day at Panoptic, I met Jeremy Price Longwood.

“I’m sorry, who?” Mr. Queen asked at dinner the previous night.

“Think Chris Hemsworth,” Mrs. Queen explained. “Or Pratt or Evans or Pine. Really, any of the Chrises.”

Mr. Queen blinked, just once, where a man less stoic might have grimaced in distaste. “Ah.”

“We’re guarding his face,” Jon said. “Specifically his face. It’s insured for half a million.”

“Much more than that, certainly,” I said.

He gave me a look.

The next morning, Mrs. Queen called together the team delegated to Mr. Longwood’s case. “He’s in Starling to shoot a Romeo and Juliet ‘reimagining,’ as if we needed another one of those. Ever since that werewolf movie, he’s been seeing an uptick in creepers. Nothing he hasn’t handled before, but we’re going to keep somebody nearby. We don’t want some poor deluded soul running on set and shoving a bundle of love letters down his shirt. It’s embarrassing, and he’s had enough of that this year.”

“Enough love letters down his shirt?” said Ms. Ramirez.

“Enough embarrassment.” Mrs. Queen gave a little shudder. “The werewolf thing. Poor guy.”

He had his shirt off for half the movie. Personally, I thought he had nothing at all to be embarrassed about.

“Sounds pretty standard,” Jon said, getting to his feet. “Who wants the first evening shift?”

Not half an hour later, the man himself came striding through the front doors with a small styrofoam cup in his hands, and he came straight to me at the front desk. “Hey, sorry I’m late,” he said. “Y’all know the numbers have rubbed off the elevator buttons?”

On film, he was lovely, but in person, he was devastating. It took me a moment to answer him. “I apologize for the confusion. Can I get you anything? Water or coffee?”

He raised the styrofoam cup. “Your neighbors one floor up - the divorce law firm? - they hooked me up.” He gave me a conspiratorial smile, and my heart skipped a beat. “No one tell my wife I walked in there.”

I would have loved to joke right back. All I managed was, “Of course not.” Hopefully my cheeks weren’t visibly pink. “I’ll show you to the conference room and lets Mrs. Queen know you’re here.”

“How did you find out about us?” was among Mrs. Queen’s standard battery of questions for new clients.

“A friend gave me your name,” said Mr. Longwood. “You came recommended by Bruce Wayne, so he figured you must be the real deal.”

Mrs. Queen looked unduly pleased by that, considering.

By the time he left an hour later, half the staff was as charmed as I was.

“Aw, he’s gonna be easy,” Darius said. “I can already tell. No clubbing, no foolishness, no babysitting his drunk ass. This dude lives in the gym and eats unsalted chicken breast.”

“Certainly looks that way,” Ms. Ramirez agreed. “Did you hear he called me ma’am? I love when these Southern boys do that. It means they’ll fucking listen.”

Once everyone else had cleared out, I turned to Mrs. Queen. “Didn’t Mr. Queen and Mr. Wayne have a bit of a falling out?”

“They did, but he never fell out with Panoptic. Bruce used to have Dig guarding him every time he was in Starling.”

“Was that, ah, strictly necessary?” I said delicately. “For Batman?”

“Of course not. Bruce just thought it was funny.”

Within a few days, Mr. Longwood left us all utterly disarmed.

Except for Jon. Very few people can disarm Jonathan Queen, and Jeremy Price Longwood is not among them. After a week of protective services and one more office meeting, Jon’s ultimate assessment was: “What a cheeseball.”

“I think he’s sincere,” I said.

“That’s because he’s a skillful cheeseball.”

“Ah, of course, he fooled the silly little girl,” I said, crossing my arms. “But you see right through him with an unbiased eye.”

“He makes you all fluttery. Admit it.”

“Darius and Ms. Ramirez also found him courteous and friendly, and you can’t accuse either of them of getting fluttery.”

“Jones likes anyone who pays for lunch, and Ramirez likes dumb golden retrievers who sit and stay on command.”

“You weren’t this mean about the oil exec making business trips to Angola - the one who almost definitely had a genuine personality disorder. But this one, you can’t stand.”

“This one expects me to like him. The BP guy had the decency not to give a damn.”

I sighed. “All right, Jonathan.”

It’s not difficult to understand, in the end. Jon is a good-looking man, if I do say so myself, and he is in fantastic shape. But he lives in a permanent state of three-day scruff, and he will always look more boyish than debonair. He is in the kind of shape optimized to slam into you like a hammer, not the kind engineered to look good on camera.

Perfectly gelled and professionally dressed Jeremy Price Longwood is standing right there, and of course Jon is supremely irritated by him. It’s like when I have to stand next to willowy Elaine Diggle, magnified severalfold.

“Tell me something,” I said, mostly as a distraction. “What was so funny about asking Mr. Diggle to guard people who didn’t exactly need guarding?”

“Oh, that.” Jon shook his head. “My dad spent years pretending to lose sparring matches to Dig, just to make sure everybody knew what a helpless marshmallow he was. Drove Dig up the wall.”

I never quite understood the dynamics of combat sports. “Why would he care, if it was all part of their cover?”

“You know when you get old enough to realize your dad is letting you win at Battleship or whatever?”

No, I couldn’t say I knew how that felt.

Jon cleared his throat. “It’s condescending as hell. Especially when he thinks it’s hilarious, and you can’t make him stop laughing, because if you try he’s just going to lay you out on the floor again.”

“He did this to you as well,” I surmised.

“He wears ties and reading glasses,” Jon said, rolling his eyes. “He’s just a boring middle-aged public servant, play-fighting to stay in shape. He doesn’t even know how to break someone’s neck. Honest.”

“You Queens are a strange tribe.”

Jon shrugged. “You joined. What does that make you?”

What, indeed?

That summer, I learned Panoptic inside out. I took notes on Mrs. Queen’s consultations with a businessman who traveled extensively in Mexico, with one of Laurel Lance’s attorneys recently assigned to an organized crime case, and with a woman who wore a cast on her left wrist and who had recently procured a restraining order against her husband.

Most of the people who came through our doors were terrified for one reason or another. Mrs. Queen coaxed information out of them with a practiced cheerfulness that should have felt inappropriate, but which they mostly found comforting. Jon did it much more bluntly, which occasionally rubbed people the wrong way, but more often inspired shockingly unreserved trust.

“That’s one of the upsides of a runaway mouth,” Mrs. Queen said ruefully. “People notice you’ve fumbled the reins, and they assume that’s the same thing as honesty.”

I shook my head. “I think it’s because they can tell he’s genuinely listening. Most people wait for their turn to talk.”

“You know,” Mrs. Queen tipped her head at me, “not one of his teachers, through twenty-ish years of school, ever singled out listening as one of his strengths.”

“Mr. Queen is the same way,” I pointed out. “He looks you right in the eyes, and you feel like you have his complete and undivided attention.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Even when he’s actually thinking about the fastest way to get you out of his office.” She grinned, swiveling back to her computer. “Oliver worked hard at his politician face.”

By September, I knew more about my boyfriend’s mother than anyone reasonably should.

I knew that she could only stare at a screen for three hours before she got a headache. She took her disgusting coffee with a disgusting amount of artificial sweetener. She got anxious before Skype meetings with Dig and Lyla, because this was their baby she was raising. She wore a size six or eight, depending on the brand, and a nice man named Warren dyed her hair every seven weeks.

“I suspect Thursday nights are date nights,” I mused out loud to Jon one afternoon. “She rarely leaves after five, and she sometimes sends me to Martin’s Wine Cellar first.”

“That’s nice,” he said vaguely. “Thursdays are Bordeaux sex. Everybody loves Bordeaux sex.” A few moments later, he looked up from his glassbook to frown at me. “Do you think my family has boundary issues?”

I shrugged and went back to my backlog of emails.

Over the course of Romeo and Juliet’s shooting schedule, Panoptic intercepted a few cringeworthy letters to Mr. Longwood, and our protectors turned away the odd paparazzo or pushy fan, but altogether the job was as easy as Darius predicted.

“Longwood’s got a solid right straight too,” Darius said. “Apparently stage fighting isn’t complete bullshit.”

Mrs. Queen narrowed her eyes at him. “You’ve been beating up your principal?”

I glanced at Jon, who looked both annoyed and intrigued.

“He’s gone to work on some strike mitts with me, that’s all,” Darius said. “I told you, this dude lives at the gym.”

“Just don’t mess up his face,” Jon advised with mock seriousness. “Be very careful with the face.”

“You want to take a swing at him,” I said, as soon as Darius left the room. “Don’t pretend.”

His shrug was not denial.

“He’s an excellent client, and you may not hit him,” Mrs. Queen said. “No matter how annoyingly pretty he is.”

“That’s not the - “

“Yes, it is.” On her way out the door, she patted his cheek, and then she nodded meaningfully at me. “She thinks you’re adorable. Good enough, right?”

She winked at me, and then she headed for her office.

Jon rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. “I think the boss just gave us permission to flirt at work. I don’t like it.”

I gave him a couple of consoling pats. “It’s just perks, darling.”

When Romeo and Juliet wrapped, there was no call for Mr. Longwood to return to our office, but he dropped by to say thank you and sign autographs. He had that kind of class. For Jon, he offered an especially strong handshake and his most sparkling Southern smile - “Thank you for all you do” - and Jon returned it warmly.

As soon as the door closed behind Longwood, Jon muttered, “Extremely punchable face, though.”

Mrs. Queen and I exchanged a smile, and we went back to work.

[zacklover24]

Prompto in Wonderland Chapter VII

Tagging: @femmescientia, @itshaejinju, @themissimmortal, @blindbae, @stunninglyignis, @sweetchocobae, @neko-otaku13, @mini-moogle-queen, @wolfissac, @eternallydaydreaming2015, @lady-asuka, @rubyphilomela

Prompto woke to a sandpaper like tongue licking him. He cracked open one baby blue eye to see his pet was licking him, and he woke to the sound of someone knocking on his door. With a tired groan prompto sat up, sending the Corel tumbling down the bed.

“Come in.” The blonde yawns stretching his arms up, Cor came in without a word carrying a tray of food.

“Good morning prompto. Did you sleep well?” He asks setting the tray down on the table and opening the doors to the balcony.

“Good, what time is it?” He asks yawning again and rubbing his eyes. He looked up at the ceiling to see that the ceiling, had changed from night to day. The sky was clear with sun shining down on the blonde.

“Early/late depending on the who. I talked with the king this morning and by his order I am to be your bodyguard.” Cor explains.

“What?” Prompto was in shock.

“The king has ordered me to be your bodyguard. After you eat, bath, and dress you may go and see the hare.” Cor bowed and left the room. Prompto was still in shock over the new news, but if he could go and see Noct, who was he say anything. He also came up with a name for his Corel, his name was now cloud. And Prompto loved his new dress.

“I look good.” He whistles as he looked at himself in the mirror on the bathroom door. The base of the dress was ivory colored with soft blue trim on the hem of the skirt which just ended below his knees. The bodice had flowers and butterflies in purples and pinks, while the sleeves and neckline with trimmed in soft pink. He tied a white and yellow bow in his hair and put on a pair of white stocking his black shoes. Those cloud didn’t like it Prompto tied a pink and blue ribbon around his neck.

Cor was waiting for him by the door, he didn’t look bored.

“Shall we?” He asks gesturing down the hall. With a nod, Cor started to walk down the hall. Prompto noted that each door that different crest on it. And all the maids looked human and smiled at him.

“Noctis room is the one with the hare on it, if you ever wanted to come here without me.” He tells Prompto as they stopped in front of a door with a gold hare on the front, “I need to see his majesty and to my other duties.  If you need me or any of the maids please bring the bell.” As he bowed.

“Thank you, Cor.” Prompto whispers.

“Your very welcome.” Leaving Prom,  Noctis room was very the same as Prompto. Expect instead of flowers on the walls it was a forest. The forest had chocobos, foxes, birds and other animals milling about. And laying in the bed was Noctis. The young hare looked pale, but was alive. The hare looked peaceful sleeping in the bed with a stuffed carbuncle next to his head.

“Why did you do that?” Prompto whispers as cloud climbed onto the bed. Noctis didn’t answer. Cloud let out meow made himself at home on the bed. As Prompto eased into the chair next to the bed, he noticed a book, the title was a little funny,

“Alice in Wonderland? Would you mind me reading to Noctis?” He asks opening the book to chapter one, seeing noctis didn’t say no,

‘Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, `and what is the use of a book,' thought Alice `without pictures or conversation?'

So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her.

There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it so very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, `Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be late!' (when she thought it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but when the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waistcoat-pocket, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge.´

“You have a nice reading voice.” Noctis says, causing Prompto to let out an eep as he drooped the book, “Sorry. Where are we?” He asks sitting up, he knew he was not at the old looking glass.

“The White King’s castle. After Gladio and myself were kidnapped Ignis brought you here. And then Nyx and Crowe got me, Gladio and Lady Lunafreya here.” Promtpo explains picking up the book.

“Okay by where is there a Corel on my bed?” He asks staring at the cat who just flicked his tail at Noct.

“Oh, he’s mine, I guess because I showed him some kindness he took me to me. He’s name’s cloud. Cute, right?” Promtpo smiles. Noctis smiled back and settled back against the pillows, he knew his body wasn’t strong enough yet. And he knew the king would be here the moment he found out he was awake.

“I was wondering, if you don’t need to see the king. Could you umm?” Noctis mutters turning his head to face the wall with the fireplace. Prompto smiled and opened the boo back up,

‘In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.

The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very deep well.

Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to wonder what was going to happen next. First, she tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves; here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs. She took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed; it was labelled `ORANGE MARMALADE', but to her great disappointment it was empty: she did not like to drop the jar for fear of killing somebody, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she fell past it.

`Well!' thought Alice to herself, `after such a fall as this, I shall think nothing of tumbling down stairs! How brave they'll all think me at home! Why, I wouldn't say anything about it, even if I fell off the top of the house!' (Which was very likely true.)

Down, down, down. Would the fall never come to an end! `I wonder how many miles I've fallen by this time?' she said aloud. `I must be getting somewhere near the centre of the earth. Let me see: that would be four thousand miles down, I think--' (for, you see, Alice had learnt several things of this sort in her lessons in the schoolroom, and though this was not a very good opportunity for showing off her knowledge, as there was no one to listen to her, still it was good practice to say it over) `--yes, that's about the right distance--but then I wonder what Latitude or Longitude I've got to?' (Alice had no idea what Latitude was, or Longitude either, but thought they were nice grand words to say.)

Presently she began again. `I wonder if I shall fall right through the earth! How funny it'll seem to come out among the people that walk with their heads downward! The Antipathies, I think--' (she was rather glad there was no one listening, this time, as it didn't sound at all the right word) `--but I shall have to ask them what the name of the country is, you know. Please, Ma'am, is this New Zealand or Australia?' (and she tried to curtsey as she spoke--fancy curtseying as you're falling through the air! Do you think you could manage it?) `And what an ignorant little girl she'll think me for asking! No, it'll never do to ask: perhaps I shall see it written up somewhere.'

Down, down, down. There was nothing else to do, so Alice soon began talking again. `Dinah'll miss me very much to-night, I should think!' (Dinah was the cat.) `I hope they'll remember her saucer of milk at tea-time. Dinah my dear! I wish you were down here with me! There are no mice in the air, I'm afraid, but you might catch a bat, and that's very like a mouse, you know. But do cats eat bats, I wonder?' And here Alice began to get rather sleepy, and went on saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of way, `Do cats eat bats? Do cats eat bats?' and sometimes, `Do bats eat cats?' for, you see, as she couldn't answer either question, it didn't much matter which way she put it. She felt that she was dozing off, and had just begun to dream that she was walking hand in hand with Dinah, and saying to her very earnestly, `Now, Dinah, tell me the truth: did you ever eat a bat?' when suddenly, thump! thump! down she came upon a heap of sticks and dry leaves, and the fall was over.

Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a moment: she looked up, but it was all dark overhead; before her was another long passage, and the White Rabbit was still in sight, hurrying down it. There was not a moment to be lost: away went Alice like the wind, and was just in time to hear it say, as it turned a corner, `Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it's getting!' She was close behind it when she turned the corner, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen: she found herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps hanging from the roof.

There were doors all-round the hall, but they were all locked; and when Alice had been all the way down one side and up the other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle, wondering how she was ever to get out again.

Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of solid glass; there was nothing on it except a tiny golden key, and Alice's first thought was that it might belong to one of the doors of the hall; but, alas! either the locks were too large, or the key was too small, but at any rate it would not open any of them. However, on the second-time round, she came upon a low curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little door about fifteen inches high: she tried the little golden key in the lock, and to her great delight it fitted!’

“How’s Luna?” Noctis asks as Prompto paused.

“I don’t know, once we got here she went right to her room. That guy Nyx took her.” Noctis smiled a hidden smile. Well it would seem that Nyx was going to be one happy bastard.

“Do you want me to keep reading or do want to get some more rest?” Prompto.

“You can read a little more if you want, I might fall sleep listening to you read. Not sure what the king has in store for you.” The hare smiles.

‘Alice opened the door and found that it led into a small passage, not much larger than a rat-hole: she knelt down and looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw. How she longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about among those beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains, but she could not even get her head though the doorway; `and even if my head would go through,' thought poor Alice, `it would be of very little use without my shoulders. Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if I only know how to begin.' For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things had happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few things indeed were really impossible.

There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes: this time she found a little bottle on it, (`which certainly was not here before,' said Alice,) and round the neck of the bottle was a paper label, with the words `DRINK ME' beautifully printed on it in large letters. It was all very well to say `Drink me,' but the wise little Alice was not going to do that in a hurry. `No, I'll look first,' she said, `and see whether it's marked "poison" or not'; for she had read several nice little histories about children who had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts and other unpleasant things, all because they would not remember the simple rules their friends had taught them: such as, that a red-hot poker will burn you if you hold it too long; and that if you cut your finger very deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and she had never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked `poison,' it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.

However, this bottle was not marked `poison,' so Alice ventured to taste it, and finding it very nice, (it had, in fact, a sort of mixed flavour of cherry-tart, custard, pine-apple, roast turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast,) she very soon finished it off.’ Prompto looked up from the book to see the hare was indeed asleep.

“Thank you.” A soft male voice says form behind prompto. The young blonde let a startled sound and feel out of the chair and onto the floor. Prompto looked at the man, he was tall. He had light black hair with some grey and warm green eyes, he wore a white suit with a blue rose in the pocket. On his right knee was a gold brace, he had on black shoes which looked freshly polished, and an oak cane with a silver dragon topper.

“Umm who are you?” Prompto asks getting up from the floor.

“How rude of me, I am King Regis the White King of Wonderland. I came to check on Noctis, I am happy to see that he is doing better.” Prompto quickly bowed to the King.

“It’s an honor and pleasure to meet you your majesty.”  The king let out a chuckle.

“The honor is all mine, tell me Prompto would like to join this old man in a stroll through the gardens?” Regis asks.

“I would love to.” Prompto smiles. There was no way in hell he could say no to the king.

End of line

[otabekismybff]

The Matchmaker’s Theme (Leojichu)

Pairings: Leo de la Iglesia/Guang Hong Ji/Phichit Chulanont (poly) Rating: T Words: 3504 Summary: Phichit has never touched a dating site, but now he's getting desperate since all his friends have coupled up. He's eager for a relationship of his own. Two different boys on the dating site capture his attention. Will this online messaging lead to love...? Prompt: @deadeyellentigh (posted at end of fic)

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Couples spring up all around Phichit. Yuuri and Viktor. Chris and his choreographer. Otabek and Yuri. And most recently, Leo and Guang Hong. He's happy for everyone, of course, but Phichit can't help but feel left out.

Always, always the third wheel. Always, always the matchmaker. Never, ever the matched. He's like Emma from that Jane Austen novel. So when will his Mr. Knightley, his friend-turned-lover, appear? Why are all of his friends already matched up?

...

Phichit has never touched a dating site, but now he's getting desperate. Maybe a few dates will cheer him up. He takes his time filling out his profile, writing out an extensive list of hobbies and favorites, and posts one of his favorite selfies from Barcelona.

Then he turns off his computer, turns off his phone, and goes to the rink. As he skates, he tries not to think about what he's just done. Tries not to worry about an inbox full of creeps. Or worse, an empty inbox.

...

Hours later, he returns home and cooks himself a full meal. Time passes. He watches TV. He showers. He feeds his hamsters. Finally, when it's close to midnight, he pulls out his computer and checks the dating site.

Ten new messages. Not bad.

Eight are nudes. Delete.

The last two catch his attention. Their profile pictures are fuzzy, but their messages seem to be only words. That's promising.

He clicks on the first message. The name line reads Levittome, 19.

Hi, phichu! Is that your name? If so, I think it's super cute. Your profile is so detailed! It feels as if I know you already lol. We have a lot in common. If you click on my profile, you can see that we like a lot of the same movies and shows. But really, what drew me to your profile was your honesty. I see so many fakers on here, so it's good to see someone real, you know? If we could chat and get to know each other, that would make me very happy. Hope to hear from you soon! -levittome

Phichit smiles and tries not to squeal. Honesty. It's something he values too. This “Levittome” person might be interesting. He clicks on the profile to compare favorites. Levittome wasn't kidding. They have so much in common that Phichit half-wonders if he copied his profile. Thankfully the site shows the date the page was last updated. Weeks ago. It's legit. Hurriedly he types up his reply.

Hi, Levittome! I'm guessing that's not your name. Lol. My name is actually Phichit, but Phichu is a nickname some friends call me. Wow, we really do have a lot in common! I know exactly what you mean about someone real. That's what I'm looking for too. I hate to ask this, but are you a boy or a girl (or something else)? I can't tell from your profile pic. Thanks. -phichu

“Auuugh, I'm such an idiot!” Phichut buries his head in his pillow, then peeks up at the screen. The cursor blinks at him. No reply comes. After a few minutes, he sighs and opens up the next message. This one is from Bearycute, 18.

hey hey! today i got gelato from the supermarket. when i ate it, i got brainfreeze uwwaa. but it was super tasty. do you like gelato? i'm asking bc on your profile you said you've been to italy. what's it like? are there really statues everywhere? i've been begging my bf to take me there, but we haven't had a chance yet. it would be nice to have a tour guide lol. anyways, i hope you'll reply to me. i'd love to chat with you. goodbye~ -bearycute

Phichit blinks at the message, a bit stunned. He likes that Bearycute just jumped into the conversation part, and he wants to reply that he really loves gelato, but he's a bit confused by the i've been begging my bf to take me there line. Bf usually means boyfriend, right? Or could it mean best friend? Phichit feels stupid as he types his reply, but he sends it anyway.

Hi, Bearycute! I absolutely love gelato. Mango is my favorite flavor. What about yours? Italy is a very interesting and fun place. In Rome, there are statues all over. It's like an outdoor museum! When you say 'bf,' do you mean boyfriend or best friend? I'm a little confused about whether you are interested in dating me or just being friends. Sorry if that's a strange thing to ask. I'm still new to this dating site stuff. Thanks. -phichu

He goes back to his inbox and is surprised to see a reply from Levittome.

I'm a boy. You're a boy too, right? If you're not, it's still okay, but I definitely have a preference for boys. -levittome

I'm a boy too. No worries. I prefer boys too. Lol. Most of my friends are gay or bi. -phichu

Oh really? How come you aren't dating any of them? -levittome

They're all taken. I'm the only one still single. Kinda lonely tbh. -phichu

Oh no! I don't want you to be lonely. Maybe if we talk more, we might turn out to be compatible? I suck with dating sites btw. You're the first person I've messaged on here. -levittome

You're kidding. Has anyone messaged you? -phichu

A few, but I'm most interested in you. -levittome

Phichit puts a hand to his chest. His heartbeat is thundering. He's only talked to this Levittome guy for half an hour and already his body is responding. Thankfully a new message from Bearycute saves him from having to answer right away.

strawberry is my fave! ahhhhh, i wanna go to rome now. that would be so much fun. we could take pictures everywhere. of everything. and eat all the delicious foods. you'll show me the best places, right? lol i mean my boyfriend. i'm gay. don't worry! that's fine to ask. i am def interested in dating you. you're super cute and seem like a fun guy~ -bearycute

What...? Phichit rereads the message to make sure he read it right. Bearycute is a guy who has a boyfriend and wants a new boyfriend??

Sorry. I'm still confused here. You want a new boyfriend? Are things not going well with the current one? I think he'd be pretty mad if he found out you were looking for somebody else. Cheating isn't a good idea. I speak from experience. My boyfriend in college cheated on me with a girl. -phichu

The reply comes minutes later.

yep i want a new bf, but don't worry! things are going great with the current one. i think you'd like him. you both have a lot in common. i let him look at your profile, and he said you were super cute. we're looking for a third person to form a triad. we're polyamorous, so we'd love to both date you. -bearycute

Phichit doesn't know what to say. This is getting weird. He opens up Google and spends the next hour researching polyamory. It's an interesting concept, sure, but he'd definitely get jealous since Bearycute is already close to his bf. That would give him a huge advantage, and Phichit would just end up feeling like a third wheel again. No, he can't do this. He needs to stop talking to Bearycute and just focus on Levittome.

Levittome, is there a name I can call you? It doesn't have to be your real name, if that makes you uncomfortable. Just I'd like to associate a name with you instead of just a username. -phichu

You can call me Lev. It's pronounced like the word “leave.” My username is a pun actually lol. -levittome

Hi, Lev! I like that name. Where are you from? -phichu

I travel a lot, and I've lived many different places. Right now I'm staying in Bangkok. What about you? -levittome

No way! I'm in Bangkok too. That's a crazy coincidence. Wait, do you follow me on Twitter? Is that how you found my dating profile?? -phichu

Lol busted. I've been curious about you for a while. You post the most interesting things. I thought you weren't interested in dating, so I never reached out to you. Then I saw your post and just had to give it a try. Ah, does that make me a loser? -levittome

No, no! You're not a loser. It's okay. Honestly that makes me feel relieved. It would have been too crazy a coincidence otherwise. Have I seen you around town? -phichu

No, I'd definitely remember if I saw you here lol. It's such a big city anyways. -levittome

Halfway through typing his reply, Phichit notices another message in his inbox. It's from Bearycute. Hesitantly, he clicks on it.

i'm so sorry! did i make you uncomfortable? i'm not in it just for a threesome, i promise. i'm really poly. your profile said you value romance more than sex and that's how i am too. please consider talking to me some more. i'm not a bad person, though i guess i get anxious sometimes. if you don't want to talk anymore, just tell me, okay? i don't like when people never reply. it makes me feel bad about myself. Dfhaskghasa i'm sorry i'm so awkward... -bearycute

Now Phichit feels bad for ignoring him. It isn't like Bearycute said anything mean. He should just calmly tell him that he's not interested in a “triad,” as he calls it, and move on. But maybe he won't tell him right away... That would be too abrupt and rude, right?

No, no. Don't feel bad! It's my fault for taking so long to reply. I got distracted talking to a friend. You didn't make me uncomfortable. We can keep talking. Cheer up, okay? You seem like a fun person, and I'd love to hear more about you. -phichu

Phichit bangs his head on the keyboard. What is he doing? He's not interested, so why does he care so much about how Bearycute feels? He's probably used to getting ignored. Phichit feels bad for him, honestly. This boy is earnestly trying to find a boyfriend, and even taking the care to make sure his current boyfriend likes the new one. He's not being selfish or pushy. It's kind of endearing actually.

The hours pass. Phichit exchanges messages with both Lev and Beary until he's too tired to type. He falls asleep with his laptop still on his lap. In his dreams, Lev is a handsome Russian model visiting Bangkok for a photoshoot and Beary is a cosplayer dressed as a bear and his boyfriend is dressed as a rabbit.

When Phichit wakes up, he's confused about whether he dreamed up the conversations from last night or not. He opens his computer and sees the messages still there. Relief washes over him. They're real. And he's got two new messages.

The one from Beary is from the previous night.

i'm guessing that you fell asleep lol. hope you have sweet dreams! i've really enjoyed talking to you. let's talk again tomorrow! i wake up late so i'll message you when i'm up. -bearycute

Good morning! It's Lev again. I fell asleep on you last night. So sorry. It's because I'm so not used to staying up late. Did you sleep well? -levittome

Since Beary said not to reply yet, Phichit replies to Lev's message.

I slept great. Feel well rested. But I fell asleep with my laptop on me. Lol. I have practice this afternoon, so I can't talk for long. -phichu

Practice? Ice skating? -levittome

Yep. It's a closed session though. Do you skate? -phichu

Yeah, but I'm not nearly as good as you. Do you have a theme for next season? -levittome

Not yet. Still working on the choreography for my short program. And **fingers crossed** trying to land a quad Salchow. -phichu

Oooooh, good luck! I bet you can do it. Have faith~ -levittome

…

Phichit does not land his quad Salchow. He falls on his ass more times than he can count, but he still stays cheerful. Celestino keeps trying to comfort him, but Phichit assures him he's okay. Honestly, he's just anxious for practice to be over so he can message Lev again.

...

When Phichit finally gets to his computer, a message from Beary awaits him.

good morn—or afternoon now i guess. i just woke up lol. did you have a good day so far? or are you sleeping in like me? reply when you can! -bearycute

Hey, Beary! I've been having a good day. Sorry about falling asleep on you last night! I'm a total morning person. It drove my old roommate nuts. On days off, he'd sleep through most the day so I had to try to be quiet, but I'm not a very quiet person so it was difficult. I woke him up several times accidentally.  -phichu

my bf is the same way lol. he's a morning person, so when he stays over, he ends up waking me up in the morning. i get really groggy and tell him to become a mute. oh and i make him wear slippers in the morning cz his footsteps are loud. -bearycute

...

Phichit becomes addicted to his computer for the next week. Anytime he can get on, he messages Lev or Beary. He's not even sure who he enjoys talking to more. They're both interesting in different ways. He no longer feels the sting of jealousy when Beary mentions his boyfriend. His brain has gotten used to the idea that he has one, and he feels as if he knows him too, just from what Beary's said about him. He's almost okay with it...or so he thinks...

me and my bf want to meet you! well, not meet-meet, but video chat with you. would you be okay with that? it would be like a skype date, just the three of us. -bearycute

The invitation surprises Phichit. Beary's never even sent him a picture, and now he wants to video chat? With his boyfriend too. Phichit's stomach churns. He's not sure how to feel about this. Curiosity makes him want to say yes, but he's so worried he'll freak out once he sees them being intimate. Better not to accept, right? But Phichit doesn't want to seem rude...

I'm sorry. I don't think I'm ready for that yet. Let's talk more first, okay? -phichu

The reply doesn't come until an hour later.

no problem. we can talk more. it's only been a week after all, right? i'm sorry if i moved too fast. -bearycute

The absence of exclamation points worries Phichit. Beary is clearly disappointed. Phichit almost changes his mind, but a message from Lev pops up.

I apologize for being the most tactless boy in the world, but I really want to meet you. It's killing me knowing you're so close and not being able to see you. Would you like to go on a date this weekend? -levittome

Phichit doesn't even need to think about it.

Yes! Do you have a place in mind? -phichu

…

A few days later Phichit is freaking out about what to wear on this date. They're going to meet at a seafood restaurant near the movie theater. Lev didn't say anything about a movie, but Phichit is hoping they can watch one after they eat. It's been forever since he's seen anything in the theaters.

He decides on a dark-green collared shirt and black trousers. Somewhere between casual and fancy. He can always roll up the sleeves if it's too fancy.

When he reaches the restaurant, he walks up to the host stand, feeling more nervous than he's ever felt before a skating competition.

“Table for one?” the host asks.

“I'm meeting someone,” Phichit says. “It should be under the name Lev.”

The host smiles and nods. “Right this way, sir.”

He leads him through the restaurant all the way to the private room at the back. The host gestures to the door and leaves Phichit to stand there awkwardly. He's surprised that Lev is going all-out on their first date. All of this. Just for him. He takes a deep breath and opens the door.

Colorful streamers decorate the room and cutouts of animated hamsters are taped to the walls. Phichit walks inside and sees a long table decorated with rose petals. He reaches for the chair nearest him when suddenly a pair of hands cover his eyes.

“Guess who,” a seductive voice whispers in his ear.

Phichit chuckles. It's just the silly thing he would do. “Lev?”

Lev spins him around and kisses him on the lips. Phichit's too close to get a good look at him, but he can see thick, long lashes, tan skin, and thick eyebrows. Handsome from what he can tell. He puts his arms around Lev and kisses him back. Then he feels a kiss on the back of his neck.

Phichit jumps a mile in the air and pulls away from the two. Leo and Guang Hong. What the hell is going on? he wants to scream.

“Sorry, we didn't mean to ambush you.” Guang Hong looks sincerely upset. “We just wanted to surprise you. I'm so sorry. I planned all this.” He gestures to the decorations and the rose petal-strewn table.

Leo rubs his thumb across Guang Hong's cheek. “Don't take all the blame, babe. This whole scheme was my idea in the first place.”

“Can one of you please explain what's going on?” Phichit says, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I'm Lev,” Leo says. “From the dating site.”

“And I'm Beary,” Guang Hong says.

Then it clicks. The boyfriend Beary was referring to was Leo. But this is too much for Phichit to comprehend. Was everything a joke? Or...?

“Why would you two flirt with me on a dating site? Were you making fun of me?” Phichit demands. He can't even hide the hurt in his voice.

“No, of course not.” Leo takes a step towards him, then stops when Phichit flinches. He rubs the back of his head, his cheeks going red. “We saw your post on Twitter about wanting to try online dating. Before that, we always thought you weren't interested in dating anyone. I mean, we flirted with you all the time, but you never responded.”

“We honestly like you,” Guang Hong says. “And we never lied about anything. Please don't get angry at us.”

“I...you...the reason I never said anything about dating is because you guys were dating. You never told me you were poly or whatever, so I didn't want to interfere. But I...” Phichit pauses as his thoughts trace over the last few years. “I've liked you, Leo, since I first met you at Four Continents. And then when Guang Hong came along, I liked you too. But you guys hit it off right away when I introduced you, so...”

Leo and Guang Hong exchange knowing smiles.

“So,” Leo says, “what you're saying is that you like both of us and you wouldn't mind forming a triad with us?”

“I...” Phichit thinks back to his earlier worries. His main reason for rejecting the triad was because he was worried Beary would give more attention to his boyfriend since he knew him better. But with Leo and Guang Hong, he knows them both equally as well. He likes both of them, as friends and romantically. And they like him. So what's the problem? “Yes.”

“Huh?” Guang Hong tilts his head.

Phichit beams and bounds over to them. “Yes, I want to be with you guys.” He kisses Guang Hong this time, and Leo wraps his arms around him from behind, then kisses the top of his ear.

“Wait, wait!” Guang Hong says, his voice chipper. He rushes into the corner and comes back with three hats. He places one on each of their heads. Hamster hats.

Phichit's heart practically melts. “You guys know me so well.” Happiness bubbles through him, and all he can do is embrace his two new boyfriends. Finally, his friend-turned-lover match. Only it's two friends instead of one. (Somehow he one-upped Emma. Take that, Jane Austen.)

...

Afterwards, Guang Hong turns on a stereo and they dance in a circle, hands linked. Laughing and smiling and taking pictures of each other. Once they're worn out from that, they sit down to eat and take turns feeding each other. Then to make the evening even more perfect, they head to the movies and sit in the dark theater. Phichit sits between the two, and by the end of the movie, the boys are resting their heads on his shoulders and he's holding their hands tightly. Phichit kisses Leo's head, then kisses Guang Hong's.

Guang Hong stirs and smiles at Phichit sleepily. “What's on your mind?”

Phichit squeezes Guang Hong's hand. “We should have gotten together a long time ago.” ... NOTES: Based on the prompt by @deadeyellentigh: "Leoji adorably begging Phichit to make a triad of suffocating cuteness, complete with an elaborate welcome party involving hamster hats, would be adorable." - It got longer and more dramatic than planned, but hopefully the cuteness still came across! And I made sure to include the hamster hats. XD

[daythomas1994]

9mm Tmj Ammo Miraculous Cool Ideas

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Tmj Doctors Near Me

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Ucla Tmj Clinic

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[readbookywooks]

Down the Rabbit-Hole

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, `and what is the use of a book,' thought Alice `without pictures or conversation?'

So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy- chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her.

There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it so very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, `Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be late!' (when she thought it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but when the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waistcoat- pocket, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge.

In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.

The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very deep well.

Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to wonder what was going to happen next. First, she tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves; here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs. She took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed; it was labelled `ORANGE MARMALADE', but to her great disappointment it was empty: she did not like to drop the jar for fear of killing somebody, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she fell past it.

`Well!' thought Alice to herself, `after such a fall as this, I shall think nothing of tumbling down stairs! How brave they'll all think me at home! Why, I wouldn't say anything about it, even if I fell off the top of the house!' (Which was very likely true.)

Down, down, down. Would the fall never come to an end! `I wonder how many miles I've fallen by this time?' she said aloud. `I must be getting somewhere near the centre of the earth. Let me see: that would be four thousand miles down , I think--' (for, you see, Alice had learnt several things of this sort in her lessons in the schoolroom, and though this was not a very good opportunity for showing off her knowledge, as there was no one to listen to her, still it was good practice to say it over) `--yes, that's about the right distance--but then I wonder what Latitude or Longitude I've got to?' (Alice had no idea what Latitude was, or Longitude either, but thought they were nice grand words to say .)

Presently she began again. `I wonder if I shall fall right through the earth! How funny it'll seem to come out among the people that walk with their heads downward! The Antipathies, I think--' (she was rather glad there was no one listening, this time, as it didn't sound at all the right word) `--but I shall have to ask them what the name of the country is, you know. Please, Ma' am, is this New Zealand or Australia?' (and she tried to curtsey as she spoke-- fancy curtseying as you're falling through the air! Do you think you could manage it?) `And what an ignorant little girl she'll think me for asking! No, it'll never do to ask: perhaps I shall see it written up somewhere.'

Down, down, down. There was nothing else to do, so Alice soon began talking again. `Dinah'll miss me very much to-night, I should think!' (Dinah was the cat .) `I hope they'll remember her saucer of milk at tea-time. Dinah my dear! I wish you were down here with me! There are no mice in the air, I'm afraid, but you might catch a bat, and that's very like a mouse, you know. But do cats eat bats, I wonder?' And here Alice began to get rather sleepy, and went on saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of way, `Do cats eat bats? Do cats eat bats?' and sometimes, `Do bats eat cats?' for, you see, as she couldn't answer either question, it didn't much matter which way she put it. She felt that she was dozing off, and had just begun to dream that she was walking hand in hand with Dinah, and saying to her very earnestly, `Now, Dinah, tell me the truth: did you ever eat a bat?' when suddenly, thump! thump! down she came upon a heap of sticks and dry leaves, and the fall was over.

Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a moment: she looked up, but it was all dark overhead; before her was another long passage, and the White Rabbit was still in sight, hurrying down it. There was not a moment to be lost: away went Alice like the wind, and was just in time to hear it say, as it turned a corner, `Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it's getting!' She was close behind it when she turned the corner, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen: she found herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps hanging from the roof.

There were doors all round the hall, but they were all locked; and when Alice had been all the way down one side and up the other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle, wondering how she was ever to get out again.

Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of solid glass; there was nothing on it except a tiny golden key, and Alice's first thought was that it might belong to one of the doors of the hall; but, alas! either the locks were too large, or the key was too small, but at any rate it would not open any of them. However, on the second time round, she came upon a low curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little door about fifteen inches high: she tried the little golden key in the lock, and to her great delight it fitted!

Alice opened the door and found that it led into a small passage, not much larger than a rat-hole: she knelt down and looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw. How she longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about among those beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains, but she could not even get her head though the doorway; `and even if my head would go through,' thought poor Alice, `it would be of very little use without my shoulders. Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if I only know how to begin.' For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things had happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few things indeed were really impossible.

There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes: this time she found a little bottle on it, (`which certainly was not here before,' said Alice,) and round the neck of the bottle was a paper label, with the words `DRINK ME' beautifully printed on it in large letters.

It was all very well to say `Drink me,' but the wise little Alice was not going to do that in a hurry. `No, I'll look first,' she said, `and see whether it's marked "poison" or not'; for she had read several nice little histories about children who had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts and other unpleasant things, all because they would not remember the simple rules their friends had taught them: such as, that a red-hot poker will burn you if you hold it too long; and that if you cut your finger very deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and she had never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked `poison,' it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.

However, this bottle was NOT marked `poison,' so Alice ventured to taste it, and finding it very nice, (it had, in fact, a sort of mixed flavour of cherry- tart, custard, pine-apple, roast turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast,) she very soon finished it off.

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`What a curious feeling!' said Alice; `I must be shutting up like a telescope .'

And so it was indeed: she was now only ten inches high, and her face brightened up at the thought that she was now the right size for going though the little door into that lovely garden. First, however, she waited for a few minutes to see if she was going to shrink any further: she felt a little nervous about this; `for it might end, you know,' said Alice to herself, `in my going out altogether, like a candle. I wonder what I should be like then?' And she tried to fancy what the flame of a candle is like after the candle is blown out, for she could not remember ever having seen such a thing.

After a while, finding that nothing more happened, she decided on going into the garden at once; but, alas for poor Alice! when she got to the door, she found he had forgotten the little golden key, and when she went back to the table for it, she found she could not possibly reach it: she could see it quite plainly through the glass, and she tried her best to climb up one of the legs of the table, but it was too slippery; and when she had tired herself out with trying, the poor little thing sat down and cried.

`Come, there's no use in crying like that!' said Alice to herself, rather sharply; `I advise you to leave off this minute!' She generally gave herself very good advice, (though she very seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into her eyes; and once she remembered trying to box her own ears for having cheated herself in a game of croquet she was playing against herself, for this curious child was very fond of pretending to be two people. `But it's no use now,' thought poor Alice, `to pretend to be two people! Why, there's hardly enough of me left to make ONE respectable person!'

Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under the table: she opened it, and found in it a very small cake, on which the words `EAT ME' were beautifully marked in currants. `Well, I'll eat it,' said Alice, `and if it makes me grow larger, I can reach the key; and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep under the door; so either way I'll get into the garden, and I don't care which happens!'

She ate a little bit, and said anxiously to herself, `Which way? Which way?', holding her hand on the top of her head to feel which way it was growing, and she was quite surprised to find that she remained the same size: to be sure, this generally happens when one eats cake, but Alice had got so much into the way of expecting nothing but out-of-the-way things to happen, that it seemed quite dull and stupid for life to go on in the common way.

So she set to work, and very soon finished off the cake.

[f1rstmistake]

Chapter 1: Down the Rabbit-Hole

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, `and what is the use of a book,' thought Alice `without pictures or conversation?'

So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her.

There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it so very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, `Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be late!' (when she thought it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but when the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waistcoat-pocket, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge.

White Rabbit checking watch

In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again. The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very deep well.

Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to wonder what was going to happen next. First, she tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves; here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs. She took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed; it was labelled `ORANGE MARMALADE', but to her great disappointment it was empty: she did not like to drop the jar for fear of killing somebody, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she fell past it.

`Well!' thought Alice to herself, `after such a fall as this, I shall think nothing of tumbling down stairs! How brave they'll all think me at home! Why, I wouldn't say anything about it, even if I fell off the top of the house!' (Which was very likely true.)

Down, down, down. Would the fall never come to an end! `I wonder how many miles I've fallen by this time?' she said aloud. `I must be getting somewhere near the centre of the earth. Let me see: that would be four thousand miles down, I think--' (for, you see, Alice had learnt several things of this sort in her lessons in the schoolroom, and though this was not a very good opportunity for showing off her knowledge, as there was no one to listen to her, still it was good practice to say it over) `--yes, that's about the right distance--but then I wonder what Latitude or Longitude I've got to?' (Alice had no idea what Latitude was, or Longitude either, but thought they were nice grand words to say.)

Presently she began again. `I wonder if I shall fall right through the earth! How funny it'll seem to come out among the people that walk with their heads downward! The Antipathies, I think--' (she was rather glad there was no one listening, this time, as it didn't sound at all the right word) `--but I shall have to ask them what the name of the country is, you know. Please, Ma'am, is this New Zealand or Australia?' (and she tried to curtsey as she spoke--fancy curtseying as you're falling through the air! Do you think you could manage it?) `And what an ignorant little girl she'll think me for asking! No, it'll never do to ask: perhaps I shall see it written up somewhere.'

Down, down, down. There was nothing else to do, so Alice soon began talking again. `Dinah'll miss me very much to-night, I should think!' (Dinah was the cat.) `I hope they'll remember her saucer of milk at tea-time. Dinah my dear! I wish you were down here with me! There are no mice in the air, I'm afraid, but you might catch a bat, and that's very like a mouse, you know. But do cats eat bats, I wonder?' And here Alice began to get rather sleepy, and went on saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of way, `Do cats eat bats? Do cats eat bats?' and sometimes, `Do bats eat cats?' for, you see, as she couldn't answer either question, it didn't much matter which way she put it. She felt that she was dozing off, and had just begun to dream that she was walking hand in hand with Dinah, and saying to her very earnestly, `Now, Dinah, tell me the truth: did you ever eat a bat?' when suddenly, thump! thump! down she came upon a heap of sticks and dry leaves, and the fall was over.

Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a moment: she looked up, but it was all dark overhead; before her was another long passage, and the White Rabbit was still in sight, hurrying down it. There was not a moment to be lost: away went Alice like the wind, and was just in time to hear it say, as it turned a corner, `Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it's getting!' She was close behind it when she turned the corner, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen: she found herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps hanging from the roof.

There were doors all round the hall, but they were all locked; and when Alice had been all the way down one side and up the other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle, wondering how she was ever to get out again.

Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of solid glass; there was nothing on it except a tiny golden key, and Alice's first thought was that it might belong to one of the doors of the hall; but, alas! either the locks were too large, or the key was too small, but at any rate it would not open any of them. However, on the second time round, she came upon a low curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little door about fifteen inches high: she tried the little golden key in the lock, and to her great delight it fitted!

Alice finding tiny door behind curtain

Alice opened the door and found that it led into a small passage, not much larger than a rat-hole: she knelt down and looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw. How she longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about among those beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains, but she could not even get her head though the doorway; `and even if my head would go through,' thought poor Alice, `it would be of very little use without my shoulders. Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if I only know how to begin.' For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things had happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few things indeed were really impossible.

There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes: this time she found a little bottle on it, (`which certainly was not here before,' said Alice,) and round the neck of the bottle was a paper label, with the words `DRINK ME' beautifully printed on it in large letters.

Alice taking "Drink Me" bottle

It was all very well to say `Drink me,' but the wise little Alice was not going to do that in a hurry. `No, I'll look first,' she said, `and see whether it's marked "poison" or not'; for she had read several nice little histories about children who had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts and other unpleasant things, all because they would not remember the simple rules their friends had taught them: such as, that a red-hot poker will burn you if you hold it too long; and that if you cut your finger very deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and she had never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked `poison,' it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.

However, this bottle was not marked `poison,' so Alice ventured to taste it, and finding it very nice, (it had, in fact, a sort of mixed flavour of cherry-tart, custard, pine-apple, roast turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast,) she very soon finished it off.

`What a curious feeling!' said Alice; `I must be shutting up like a telescope.'

And so it was indeed: she was now only ten inches high, and her face brightened up at the thought that she was now the right size for going through the little door into that lovely garden. First, however, she waited for a few minutes to see if she was going to shrink any further: she felt a little nervous about this; `for it might end, you know,' said Alice to herself, `in my going out altogether, like a candle. I wonder what I should be like then?' And she tried to fancy what the flame of a candle is like after the candle is blown out, for she could not remember ever having seen such a thing.

After a while, finding that nothing more happened, she decided on going into the garden at once; but, alas for poor Alice! when she got to the door, she found she had forgotten the little golden key, and when she went back to the table for it, she found she could not possibly reach it: she could see it quite plainly through the glass, and she tried her best to climb up one of the legs of the table, but it was too slippery; and when she had tired herself out with trying, the poor little thing sat down and cried.

`Come, there's no use in crying like that!' said Alice to herself, rather sharply; `I advise you to leave off this minute!' She generally gave herself very good advice, (though she very seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into her eyes; and once she remembered trying to box her own ears for having cheated herself in a game of croquet she was playing against herself, for this curious child was very fond of pretending to be two people. `But it's no use now,' thought poor Alice, `to pretend to be two people! Why, there's hardly enough of me left to make onerespectable person!'

Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under the table: she opened it, and found in it a very small cake, on which the words `EAT ME' were beautifully marked in currants. `Well, I'll eat it,' said Alice, `and if it makes me grow larger, I can reach the key; and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep under the door; so either way I'll get into the garden, and I don't care which happens!'

She ate a little bit, and said anxiously to herself, `Which way? Which way?', holding her hand on the top of her head to feel which way it was growing, and she was quite surprised to find that she remained the same size: to be sure, this generally happens when one eats cake, but Alice had got so much into the way of expecting nothing but out-of-the-way things to happen, that it seemed quite dull and stupid for life to go on in the common way.

So she set to work, and very soon finished off the cake.