#I would probably be bald by the time I finish a braid

[bbrokenbback]

Hairstyle hcs time!

So recently ive been thinking what if all of those bald-ass primarchs actually had visited a hairdresser of some sort at least once in their lives instead of taking a razor and getting rid of all their hair. And also what if other who canonically have hair had something actually good on their heads instead of just going in a fight with flowing hair of theirs and idk being tugged on it by some warboss of whatever.

So there it.

I. Lion ElJonson. I think he should have had some sort of braids and it is also going to be probably just as loose and messy as it is in the picture since you know he likes a mele fighting.

2. Let him stay bald.

3. Fulgrim. Canonically hes already got the best hairstyle of all of his brothers but i think there must be something that would fit him best and also be a little more practical in a mele sword fight than having loose hair. I sadly havent found a male reference but it doesnt matter. So i would give Fulgrim a neat ponytail with a band probably made out of his own hair. Its practical, it shows how good hes hair is, its beautiful, its everything we need.

4. Perturabo. Hes focused a little too much on a practical side of things so i think if he had hair he would collect it into a bun. Not so neat since he does not really care about hair at all and it gets messy with time cause he just makes it in the morning and does not correct anything about it till the time he goes to sleep again unless the bun collapses. I also think he would have slightly curly hair because well greek. It also charcoal black.

5. Jaghatai Khan. Hes allowed to have messy hair because hes the definition of a mess himself and he messes around and pls stop me. I think his hairstyle is required to be a little more loose than its in canon because i dont think that a person like him would actually care about keeping his hair neat. Although i see him having a little ponytail on the back of his head the hair itself is just to short to be collected in one scrunchy.

6. Leman Russ. It was too easy to find lots of scandinavian kind of hairtyle references so there we have it: shaved sides with long braids going from the top of the head which is sometimes collected in a bun and sometimes not. Hairstyle had quite a meaning in the northen contries so i think hes the unexpected one to actually care about his hair and making his little braids. It must be some sort of a ritural for him.

7. Rogal Dorn. I honestly cannot see him with hair any longer than hes got in canon. Actually I see him as a person who would like it to be even shorter because you know another guy whos focused on practical stuff too much. He does not really care about hairstyle so his head is always neat but with nothing fancy or special. Hes hair looks like hes just gotten out of the army and is trying to grow it up but fails and cuts it short.

BUT i think he cares about his hair condition a lot because its quite hard to have a clear white hair when you are in constant war. Hes got plenty of purple shampoos to get rid of that annoying yellowness in his hair. One of the few of the primarch to actually use conditioner so altough his hair is short its the softes and the silkiest of all.

8. Konrad Curze. This was a difficult one actually. Most of his hairstyle habits disappear the moment he exits the Prime of Emperor after he finished his Fulgrims degree. And when he had any kind of hairstyle at all it was mostly made by Fulgrim himself so Konrad does not look like a junk rat while walking on his flagship.

I can imagine Fulgrim making poor Konrad having the worst and the most difficult hairstyle ever so he does not unbraid it himself or gets too frustrated by the structure before he finishes it. Maybe something that in M2 was popular among brides, all those hairstyle that requires at least two people to make it work on a head. Increadibly neat and shiny and silky though Konrad does not like it at all. Hes head is itchy hes eyes are pulled in two different direction because of how strong the tension on his temples is.

However Konrad does not shave his head bald out of protest. He just endures his fates.

9. Sanguinius. His hair must be so hard to work with because hes got the curliest of all curls so I think it would take a lot of time for him alone to make something of it properly. Thankfully hes got his sons who are all happy to help their dad with his hair and would probably fight each other for a chance to do so because its considered an honour.

He needs something that is strong enough to not fall apart during his flights and also beautiful so I decided it to be a head-circling braid or a few of them. It is held my several hidden hairpins and from outside it looks rather magical than real because of how good its made. His curls although are almost unnoticable.

10. Ferrus Manus. There is not that much to say about his hair outside of it being a total mess all of the time no matter how long or short it is. His hair must be very dry and so straight that it would never touch Fulgrimg stay in any kind of shape and will stick out in all possible directions like hes not a primarch but a hedgehog. If his hair ever grows up more than shoulder lenght it would look spiky.

Also no idea who the character is but his hair fits and also a little beard is something I can see Ferrus having.

11. Cut of his head while shaving it. Deserved.

12. Angron. Ive seen it somewhere as a canon fact but his hair must be red. So hes a redhead! Its cute! Since he was a gladiator there is not so much of things that he might have done with his hair so he would probably just keep it short. It wouldnt get too dirty in fights, practical and not as ugly as a bald head. Simple though not so neat because I think its kinda hard to wash it while being a slave.

Since hes got nails I think he would always have bristle because its hard to shave when you twitch all the time.

13. Roboute Guilliman. I do not know why hes hair is not curly since hes a walking reference to the Roman Empire. Anyway there is not so much to say about him too but I think hes really into accessories. Flower crowns, lauren wreathes, all that kind of stuff. Simple things like little golden leaves as hairpins too.

I also think that in 41M hes wreath hurts him because it has sharp leaves and is spiky in general so hes got little wounds on his temples all the time which sometimes bleed dirtying his hair and making him look even more like a figure of faith.

14. Mortarion. Hes hair is white or rahter colorless and very thin, also its very brittle considering all the toxic stuff hes met on his homeworld and also his casual habit of taking a glass or two of literal moonshine of his own making which is rather a promethium to human body than an actual drink. Since his hair is thin and brittle I think his hairstyle would be very uneven although he would still keep it long rather than shoulder or temple lenght. He lenght is different on every side of his head but somehow he does not look like a mess of a man who cannot take care of his own hair but rather like a fairy moth.

15. Magnus the Red. Hes a literal shapeshifter so he doesnt really care about whether his hair gets cut off or burnt during a fight or not because he can always grow it back in a minute using his warp magic. Although he still would need a hairstyle to attend some official meetings with humans or his brothers so this is it. I have no idea how to call it but with the hair of his it would look so great. It might appear to others like kinda messy but actually it is not and for Prospero where I can see this hairstyle to be quite traditional its very neatly made. Hes also into accessories like Roboute but for him its rather thin chains, strings and necklaces.

16. Horus Lupercal. Somewhere Ive read that hes got canonically red hair too so be it. Hes a redhead. If he wasnt bald he would have a short military hairstyle. Hes hair is straight, thick and healthy in every way though he does not do much to it. Hes got no actual hairstyle but hes very into royal kind of accessories. Crowns. wreathes, tiaras and diadems of all sorts. Nothing too extra like those gigantic russian crowns since he considers himself to be a rather warrior type of king. Its still too much in comparison to his other brothers.

17. Lorgar Aurelian. I think his hair is just like the Emperors because hes always compared to Him in terms of appearance. Brown. straight but not messy, very heavy. If he wasnt bald he would keep it long, much longer than his shoulders, probably to his waist. The hairstyle is simple yet sometimes quite excessive. Little braids with rings and chains of gold braided into them, sometimes with no braids at all and just the accessories put straight onto strands. And there is always a little too much of them than its required. Just as Sanguinius allows his sons to take care of his hair sometimes with braiding and washing it although it mostly Erebus and Kor Phaerons job.

18. Vulkan. Hes getting dreads since it was quite obvoius but its not that simple. I think on Nocturne its very important to keep you hair clean out of all that vulcanic junk that atmosphere is full of and dreads make it much easier to manage. The way it looks, amount of added colours and accessories is the way of showing a status of a person. Since Vulkan is a primarch his dreads would be very colorful and full of small details such as hollow gems, beads, tapes and belts. There must be lots of pieces of dragons` skin too. Its also very practical because a bun of dreads makes it much easier to work in a forge with long hair considering all the sweat and dirt.

19. Corvus Corax. I dont think hes the kind of a person who would put too much effort in his looks but its different with hair. Since hes got very thick hair and its canonically long I think he might grow it even longer and experiment with it a lot. There is a different hairstyle for fight, for meetings with humans, his brothers and his sons, for each and every special occasion. But i think he would prefer ponytails the because its simple, practical and still looks coold with that hair of his.

20. Alpharius and Omegon. Matching hairstyle. I havent found a reference pic for this one that would fit the vibe of the two of them. Its just crazy matching haistyles. Pink waist long dreads? They both got it. Blue quads with a shaved side? They are mirrorying each other. The older they get the more interesting it gets.

[ego-osbourne]

Dumb Witches Festival Costumes

//click for better image quality//

Happy Halloween! I just nearly forgot to post this, but thankfully I caught myself! Enjoy some of the stupid ideas I had for a few of the Masq!

Ego is Miraak, because someone told them that imitation is the highest for of flattery or something something, it doesn’t actually matter bc Ego defo wanted to use their (limited) craftsman skills to make a funny caricature of their older brother.

Sammy G dressed up as Dagon, largely for an excuse to run around in minimal clothing. Set with a bald cap, horned headband, faux arms, and a wooden axe to boot.

Erandur is a moth priest because he’s always thought their attire was interesting and fun. Unfortunately he didn’t consider how he might get around after finishing the costume with a blindfold, and now needs someone to take him by the hand and lead him around (also I rarely draw him with his hair down [ie. not in a braid], and I forget just how LONG I made his hair).

And, lastly, Rakell. Y’know how we have sexy nurses? I like to think a lot of Tamriel’s populous considers spriggans to be the equivilant. So of course Rakell was bet that he wouldn’t be a sexy spriggan that year, and of course he proved the better wrong (though any other year he would probably dress up as Velehk Sain [note that this is TDI-time and Rakell hasn’t met Velehk yet]).

Other life notes below:

This is the first year I haven’t dressed up for Halloween, though not necessarily out of my own volition. I’m at college and away from home, and the friend that I did Halloween last year with left campus, and I had no one else to participate with irl this year. + I’m tighter on money this year and simply couldn’t afford buying myself a costume. On top of that, I didn’t have a whole lot of ideas, either.

I decided to put what money I had saved for Halloween towards a future Ego cosplay that I’ve been working on, but man, it’s just not the same. Doing nothing for Halloween this year has had me really bummed out the past few days.

And then it snowed.

Oh my God did it snow. For reference: I love snowfall, and though snow IS possible this early in the year, it usually doesn’t stick. This snow STUCK. Not a whole lot of it, probably an inch, but enough! (And it’s still snowing so we might get more!) And it was just. So pretty. Bundled myself up and walked around in it for a bit. Just. Ugh. A very nice end to a largely negative-feeling day.

Just wanted to document this :] Happy Halloween everyone! I know I’m having a better one.

[eivorsjawline]

18+ NSFW Alphabet: Kassandra (Assassin’s Creed)

A: (Aftercare) with Kassandra would almost always end with the two of you bonding over a glass of wine. She would spoil you with kisses and if the two of you decide to take a shower afterwards she would help wash you, sneaking in some kisses and cuddles too. If it's morning sex, Kassandra would most definitely cook you up some breakfast.

B: (Favorite body parts) Starting off on an innocent note, I think Kassandra would admire her partner's neck. Neck kisses are her weakness, anything from that point a little downward like the collarbone or shoulders. I also feel like she’d admire a beautiful back, she’d have a tendency to track that line down the middle of your back. Let's be real here though, I can tell she loves some thighs. She also loves to be smothered in between them.

C: (Cum) Kassandra will put her life on the line just to get you to finish. She takes pride in her work, I don't see her being able to mentally handle it if she knows her partner wasn’t satisfied. As for her, she needs her back scratched equally.

D: (Dirty secret) Kassandra is completely and utterly devoted to her partner, so much that she can't help but to look at naughty pictures you’ve sent her or even just your *cough* selfies. Kassandra admires beauty, and she loves to admire her partner's beauty while touching herself when the two are away from each other. If the two of you are out in public she’ll find herself eyeing you up and down like a meal and thinking of all the things she wants to do to you when you’re home (or not.)

E: (Experience) Kassandra is extremely experienced in what she does. I mean, have you played the game? The woman is a sex demon, there's likely nothing that she hasn’t done out of curiosity or spontaneity.

F: (Favorite position) When she’s wielding the strap, she loves to see the expression on your face while she's ramming into you. Whether slow and passionate or rough and hard. Missionary is an intimate position for her, so she definitely treasures it or saves it for when she wants to connect with her partner on a deeper level. However, as we know Kassandra is a pleaser all the way. She loves eating you out, mostly when you’re on top of her and smothering her with your thighs that she can grip on. Kassandra is down for any position though, all of it turns her on. Even more so if she's having sex with someone she loves deeply.

G: (Goofy) She’s always being silly. I could see her taking up with “Dad” jokes. However, she loves being a sarcastic asshole to you and teasing you. All with good intentions, of course. She loves getting her partner riled up.

H: (Hair) Ugh, I love that braid she has but I can imagine a modern Kassandra always having her luscious brown locks well groomed. I think she uses a product in her hair, I could see her having a wavy hair texture when her hair is down. Kassandra with her hair down? *Chefs kiss* But onto down yonder, I think she would likely be well groomed. Her skin looks pretty soft and smooth to the touch in game. However, I don't think she would be completely bald, I think she’d leave a nice patch or simply shave the sides.

I: (Intimacy) She yearns to be intimate, all the time. I could see her being a little clingy and overprotective at times. Nothing overbearing however, she's much too independent and free spirited for that. Kassandra would be the type to kiss you at each stop light if she's driving you around in her car. If you’re out together, she’d hold your hand. If you’re cold she’d give you her jacket. Such a sweetheart.

J: (Jack off/Masturbation) I could see Kassandra masturbating from time to time when she’s not in the company of her lover due to travel/work/business. But, she prefers to get you off.

K: (Kink) She probably has a praise kink due to… yaknow… family trauma. As tough as she is on the exterior, DEFINITELY likes to be babied sometimes. Keen on public sex, likes the risk. I could see her wanting to fuck in a religious place/place of worship (oh so sacred and controversial). Orgasm denial, she likes to see you squirm and beg for her. It feeds her ego. Degradation kink.

L: (Location) Anywhere, everywhere.

M: (Motivation) Loves it when you stroke her ego, anything to inflate it further. For example, compliment her body after a hard day at the gym (She’s definitely a gym girl).

N: (No; Something they wouldn't do/turn offs) There isn’t much that Kassandra wouldn't do but I think she definitely draws the line at anything to do with human excretion/ bodily fluids. However, knife play… She’d be down.

O: (Oral) Likes to give and receive.

P: (Pace) She can be passionate and slow but she will also fuck the shit out of you and leave you in a wheelchair. Then, when you can't walk the next day she’s gonna make fun of you. All jokes of course…

Q: (Quickie) Kass is always down for a quickie.

R: (Risks) I could see Kass definitely taking risks when it comes to sex since she is an experimental person.

S: (Stamina) Endless stamina, she doesn't hit up the gym for no reason. She can go for hours and hours, sometimes she’ll even wear you out. You just can't keep up with this woman.

T: (Toys) Absolutely, she loves to use toys on you and vice versa. She’ll usually just go for the finger blasting but when it’s strap time, it is time. Enjoys vibrators, handcuffs, ropes, whips, ect. Owns a sex swing.

U: (Unfair/How much she likes to tease) Kassandra will tease her partner endlessly, she gets off on it. However, she will give you as many orgasms as you want.

V: (Volume) Kass is LOUUUUUUUUUUUD. So loud, you have to cover her mouth when you’re giving her the strap sometimes. If that's what you enjoy. Her moans are breathy and deep, depending on how hard it is she will whimper and scream.

W: (Wild card) Kassandra once had a business trip coming up and held onto a pair of your panties for safekeeping <3

X: (X ray) She has a toned, muscular body. Thick thighs, strong calfs, protruding biceps. She has a smaller chest, muscular pecks with some scars possibly. Some stretch-marks due to muscle building.

Y: (Yearning) Pretty much anything can trigger Kass’s sexual arousal. However, she can contain it easily if need be.

Z: (Zzz) Kassandra knocks out, actually she snores most of the time so you have to remind her to flip over on her side. However, if you fall asleep before her she will watch you sleep peacefully. She’ll also take pics and vids of you sleeping crazy to laugh at them later.

[hwahawt]

Tried to do French braids, gave up two minutes in

[henry-and-the-seven-lords]

can you do headcanons for when MC falls asleep on the brothers laps during a meeting because they were up all night studying

This is so adorable!!

Brothers Masterlist | Dateables Masterlist

MC Falling Asleep in the Brother's Laps During a Meeting

💙 Lucifer -

He doesn't really pay attention at first because he is focused on what Diavolo has to say and how much work this will be for him.

He then feels a weight in his lap and looks down and smiles.

The smile quickly goes away, but he is definitely massaging their scalp while he takes notes.

He always have to stay after meeting anyway to do paperwork, so he let's MC rest until everyone is gone. He feels incredibly special that he is the only one who gets to see their sleepy face when they wake up.

"Little Lamb, it's time to get up."

💛 Mammon -

MC would grab his arm and snuggle into him. He would internally freak out, but keep a cool facade on the outside.

"So your just gonna use me as a pillow now?"

He isn't listening to the meeting anymore. He is instead moving hair out of their face or gently brushing his fingertips across their skin.

If anyone makes a noise he will shush them! MC's sleep is more important.

He doesn't wake up MC. Instead he tried to carry them, but he starts shouting at someone about halfway through the walk home and they wake up.

🧡 Leviathan -

MC would lay their head on his lap and he would probably freeze with bright red cheeks.

MC would still plop down and fall asleep in his lap. He would be completely still with a bright red face.

Would gently touch their hair, but not too much because he doesn't want to wake them up.

At the end of the meeting, he regretfully shakes them awake and talks to them.

"You can't just do that in a meeting MC... but if you want to do it in my room when we are alone that's fine..."

💚 Satan -

MC would try to sneak into Satan's laugh which would make him chuckle and he would just let them.

"You're acting like a cat. Needing my lap for a good nap. Do you need headrubs too?"

He has a mischievous smirk, but MC nods and he complies with out hesitation.

He cards his fingers through their hair until it is time to go.

Then he wakes them up with sweet words and promises of a better nap on the library couch.

💖 Asmodeus -

MC was about to lay on the table, but Asmo pulled their head onto his lap so they could be more comfortable.

He is going to whisper sweet compliments in their ear, brush their hair, and even do a little styling. (Long haired MC? Braids! Shor hair MC? He has extra hair clips! Bald MC? He has some lotion he would love to apply for them.)

If he get REALLY bored he might even give them a face, neck, and shoulder massage.

He finally wakes them up whenever he finishes whatever he is doing. No matter if the meeting is still going or not.

"MC. Wakey, Wakey. I want you to see what I did. Also do your shoulders feel looser? They felt tense so I gave you a little massage."

❤ Beelzebub -

Beel watches as MC crawls in his lap, curls into a ball and falls asleep. Belphie has done this before so he is pretty unfazed by it.

"Good night, MC. I will wake you up when the meetings over."

MC better expect crumbs in their hair or on their lap... this boy has to fill his appetite... He really tries to eat less when MC might get dirty, but he can't always help it.

He wants to wake up MC after the meeting... but they look so cute! So he carries them home.

When they do wake up, he hands them one of the sandwiches that he was eating during the meeting and saved for them.

💜 Belphegor -

Is already asleep with his head on the desk. When MC leans on his back.

He peaks up at them before snuggling down and going back to sleep.

They both just nap until one of them wakes up eventually.

"MC, everyone left. Let's go home and sleep in your bed. That will be more comfy than this hard table."

He now tries to convince MC to nap through every meeting, which they always resist (he usually wins though).

[elementoftheeye]

1 Oct. 2022, warning that if anyone reads these posts I am by no means a creator with words… so that being said here goes. On Saturday October 1, 2022 was a busy day. Mainly it was our classes 40th high school reunion. For the 1st time I helped setup. At 3:30 some of us met up and we toured our Junior High School that has been converted into apartments, very nice apartments. I don’t remember much about going there in the late 70's…. The reunion started at 6:30, and we arrived at 6:45. Dark and raining. We walked in as Rusty was making the welcome speech. We kind of stood in the doorway until he was finished. Then went to the bar for a drink, but as we stood there, I could see classmates looking our way, the game of trying to identify the newest person, I have changed a good bit… and most people have… hell when I graduated I was 6’0”, full head of hair and didn’t even need to shave my face. I was chubby. I am now mostly bald, I am 6’4” tall, still a bit thick around the stomach and I have a long and braided goatee. People would casually walk by and sneak a glance at my name tag. I did the same thing… The DJ was playing music, maybe a little loud, we found some friends and sat with them people watching. I talked to some people that I have never talked to before. Mostly everyone was friendly, still some just were not. I try and think back to who I hung out with… honestly maybe I blocked out those years or maybe I really didn’t hang out with classmates from this graduating class… but I still know a bunch of faces and names. … if you are still reading this, it probably isn’t what you might expect. This morning I woke up planning this post and it has gone to shit. I think that the emotions were so high and that there was so much in my head that it all slipped into some crevasse and I just can’t retrieve it now. I will say that I am happy sitting here this morning… the day after with my wife, dogs, coffee and the quiet. I do want to say thanks to everyone that worked so hard to put this together. It was a really good event! So some important people that I personally want to mention, that took time to chat with me… and I am sure there are more than I will mention… Connie, Tom, Ellamae, Jay Jay, Barb, Rusty, Norma, Kim, Trisha, Sue, April, Jerry, John, Pat, Deb, Scott, Marcy, Dirk… and many more.

[milliethekitty27-writing]

The Ladder

In a hole in the ground, there lived a lonely hobbit. It all started when Bilbo grew tired of his empty kitchen.

He hadn’t been fond of eating alone since the dwarves destroyed his pantry, but he hadn’t after Frodo joined him in Bag End. He’d eaten with the elves in Rivendell, which had been full of lovely music and pleasant conversation, and then he’d eaten with the elves, Frodo, and Gandalf when they’d traveled to the Undying Lands.

Now he was here, in Yavanna’s Garden, living in what was basically Bag End. (the actual Bag End was right next door for his parents) He had his beautiful garden back, which only mattered really because he’d been brought back to his youthful self with working hands. The house was always clean (and he’d never really liked cleaning, so that didn’t matter much to him) so he had all the time in the world to work on his maps and his stories. He got the occasional social call from neighbors or family. He ate dinner with his parents on Thursdays and went over to their home on Sundays for family nights with many cousins and aunts and uncles, but he spent the rest of his time alone. He got the same whispers he had in the Shire, but he was satisfied with his cooking and working in the garden. Except… on the days there were no social calls, no family dinners, Bilbo Baggins sat in a very quiet house and talked to nothing.

“You know-” Bilbo said to no one in particular as he weeded a particularly stubborn patch of grass out from underneath his rose bush. There was a basket of tomatoes ready to be made into a sauce, or maybe used the fish tonight, but he’d seen the weeds and wanted to deal with it before it spread. “-I would have expected the garden to take care of itself when I died. Not to be doing the same tasks as before. But here we are, fighting with weeds, aren’t we Tho-” Bilbo stopped, shook his head, and pushed that thought aside. 

He made dinner for fourteen but only ate for one. The rest got put away for the multitudes of meals of the next day, but almost five years after he’d died he found himself looking at the empty table with a frown.

The next morning he perused his bookshelf until he found a collection of stories. From there, he found tales of the dwarves. He sat in his armchair until a collection of cousins knocked on the door and pulled him away, but he found what he was looking for when he was waiting for a peach pie to bake.

Dwarves belief that they return to the halls of Mahal upon their deaths. From there, they await the Final Battle. Upon the arrival of that day, they will be sent back to rebuild Arda, but until then the dwarves rest in their creator’s halls. 

Bilbo hemmed over that. He wandered down to where most of the Tooks lived, asking if they had any maps or had heard of the Halls before. It was a bit of a long shot, and he wasn’t surprised when they all said no. He returned to his smial and examined his garden. 

“Well-” he said to the same problematic patch of clover that refused to leave. “-I know that dwarves do like their underground tunnels and their mines. And if the Green Lady is married to the Smith, then it stands to reason that they might go underground nearby. I don’t think there’s any harm in looking, I’ll just get a bit dirty and ruin my garden, and I do that on the regular. Or I’ll fall into a great underground river and run back into Gollum.” Bilbo sighed, then went to see if he could borrow Hamfast’s good shovel.

There was a patch of yard in the back Bilbo had been planning on planting carrots in, but he had a better idea now. He wiggled his toes in the cool earth, nodded, and stretched out his shoulders. Then Bilbo Baggins put his shovel into the soil and started to dig.

It took quite a bit of time, but he didn’t get as tired as he had in his old age and he didn’t have to take as many breaks. Death might mean you didn’t have to eat, or sleep, but it was routine, and he had dinner with his parents that were tradition. One day, maybe, he’d be able to bring more than just himself and whatever his mother wanted him to bring for dessert, but he pushed the idea of muddy boots and braids out of his mind in favor of helping his mother finish up the roast. 

“What are you doing, Bilbo?” his father asked during one dinner. “Gorbadoc says he hasn’t seen you at the Green Dragon in some time.” 

“I’m digging a tunnel.” Bilbo said matter of factly. “I’m going to try to find the halls of Mahal.” His parents looked at each other for a minute. 

“What for?”

“I… suppose it’s just because I can.”

“Have you considered asking the faunts?” Belladonna suggested as she took a second helping of mashed potatoes. “I’m sure they’d be more than thrilled to be asked to ruin a garden.” Bilbo considered that.

“I think this something I want to do myself.”

Bilbo digged and digged. The hole was big enough for him to stand in rather comfortably, though he had to dig some stair-like notches into the side so he could get in and out. It took almost a week of non-stop digging to reach literal rock bottom, and then he was left with a conundrum. He’d dented Hamfast’s good shovel, so he returned it with an apology and a promise to pay him back, but would Hamfast please lend him a good pickaxe?

Bilbo woke up that next morning with arms that were incredibly sore and demanded he take a day, if not more, off. He agreed. The dwarves had waited this long, they could wait a bit longer. Bilbo went to market, got a drink, avoided questions about what he was up to, dodged a few nosy grandparents, and returned home with arms full of goods. The next day he baked an apology pie for the Gamgees and sent his mother and father cookies, lounging for the rest of the afternoon with a good book. On the third day his arms didn’t yell at him for raising them above his head, so Bilbo hoisted his pickaxe. 

“How’s your hole going?” Belladonna asked as she took out a tart to cool. It was nearly time for the harvest festivals. Hobbits loved to work in their fields and grow their goods, and that meant the harvest festivals of the Shire still went on. That meant competitions (his mother was entering a lovely pumpkin she’d been growing all year, while his father was entering in a poetry competition) and baking, canning for the winter, and family time. 

“Rather well, I like to think!” Bilbo gave the bread he was kneading one last good push. “I think I’ve nearly reached it, the rocks started to change to the next type of rock underground that I read about in the book that Adamantius lent me last week. It’s supposed to mean you’ve gotten to the next layer or… something. The book was rather complicated. I suppose I’ll just have to see what happens.”

“Maybe you’ll have it fixed in time for the summer planting competitions.” His father brushed his hands off on an apron as he came in from the garden with a basket of potatoes, placing them on the counter and taking a moment to kiss Belladonna’s cheek. For a moment Bilbo wondered if soon he’d be seeing his dwarves, be able to kiss one particular cheek, but he pushed those thoughts aside. It was possible he was nowhere near being able to see his dwarves, but that was a thought he’d deal with when he came to it. He was nothing if not practical, as a Baggins (no, Baggins weren’t actually practical, he knew that now, but don’t bother telling the Baggins side that) and he didn’t want to consider that what if.

“Maybe.” he ceded. “But I’m hoping that I’ll be able to make it a permanent feature.”

Bilbo returned to his hole the day after the festivals had finally finished. His larder was filled to bursting, along with all his storage rooms, and he was just planning on doing a little bit of work before settling in with a nice book. 

That plan fell a bit short, though. He drove his pickaxe in rather deeply and the earth suddenly crumbled all around him. Bilbo let out a yell as he fell through a suddenly rather large hole, landing with a rather sharp thwack on something… surprisingly soft. 

When he looked around, he found that he was surrounded by an incredible amount of short, bearded people wearing multiple colors and gems. 

Dwarves. 

He looked up and found an incredible amount of sunlight falling on him, along with a decent amount of dirt. 

It seemed he’d found the Halls of Mahal. Now the question was how to get back to Yavanna’s Gardens. 

...he’d cross that road when he got to it. For now, he had dwarves to find, and, uh, oh dear. The dwarf he was sitting on didn’t look very happy. He jumped off of the poor dwarf’s back.

“I’m so terribly sorry-” Bilbo offered the dwarf a hand. They were covered in braids, with long black hair, and Bilbo tried to dust them off once they were up. “-I had no idea I’d almost broken through like that, I would’ve given some warning.”

“You’re what’s been making all that noise?” a dwarf behind him said. Bilbo turned on his heel. This dwarf was dressed like a miner. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“The noise-” the dwarf gestured at the ceiling. “-for the past month, we’ve been getting this awful banging- that’s coming from you? But you’re a halfling!” There was a great deal of yelling at that as the crowd of dwarves surrounding Bilbo all realized what he was. Bilbo felt his cheeks heated up with rage. 

“What do you mean a halfling fell through the ceiling?!” someone bellowed after several minutes where Bilbo couldn’t get his voice loud enough. There was a great deal of pushing through the crowd and Bilbo offered another apology to the poor dwarf he’d probably concussed in his fall. 

“I’ll have you know I’m not half of anything!” He said loudly into the suddenly silent hall, but there was a further commotion.

“That’s not just a halfling that our halfling!” Bofur, that was Bofur, he knew that voice. A bald dwarf covered in tattoos practically rammed his way through the crowd and there were all his dwarves, looking alive and well and whole, no blood or funeral garb, no sorrowful letters or tearful tales from Frodo about bodies and ancient stone walls. He was hugging them, pinching cheeks and smiling as wide as he had in some time. He did a quick head count - twelve. Where was thirteen, where was-

Oh.

There he was. 

Thorin was standing at the other end of the mass of dwarves in the hall, firelight glinting off the silver in his hair and around his neck. There was no sign of gold or bronze, just silver. He practically blended into the cave wall in his nearly black clothes but Bilbo met those beautiful blue eyes and something just clicked. He was covered in dirt, and in his gardening clothes. He looked a mess, he was sure of it, but Thorin was looking at him in a way that made his breath catch in his throat. 

“Master Burglar.” Thorin’s voice rumbled across the nearly silent crowd. 

A moment later he and Bilbo met in the center of the path, both having run as fast as their feet could carry them. Bilbo’s fingers curled into the thick, wiry hair and he inhaled the smell that was undeniably Thorin. 

“I thought I told you to call me Bilbo.” he said in a thick voice after a moment. “Or should I be calling you your majesty?”

“No.” Thorin said instantly. He shook his head and Bilbo felt the gentle thuds as beads connected with his skull. “No. Never you.” 

They looked at each other for a moment. Thorin didn’t have the wrinkles around his face anymore, the silver in his hair was less than it had been, but there was still that shadowed look in his eyes. Bilbo took a quick breath, then leaned up and kissed his cheek like his father kissed his mother’s, like he’d been thinking about for ages and ages. 

“Hello.” he whispered. “Hello, Thorin Oakenshield.”

“Hello, Bilbo Baggins of the Shire.” Thorin’s face was flushed now, but he reached up and brushed his thumb along Bilbo’s jaw. 

“That counts as a kiss!” someone bellowed. There was a loud thud and the dwarf, definitely Nori, yelped. “That hurt!” 

“Bilbo can we get a boat through your hole?” Fili called. A moment later there was a thud and both Fili and Kili were there, smushing Bilbo into the center of a Durin family hug. 

“A bo- what do you need a boat for?”

“I want to find Tauriel.” Kili sounded elated. “If you could get through, then she-”

“Boys, I have to get back up myself, I can’t just pull up a boat-”

“What about cheese?” Bofur piped up. Bilbo realized that the entire company had encircled him. He was surrounded in a mass of dwarves. Stinky, hugging-too-tight, wonderful dwarves that he’d missed. “Bombur’s been talking about that recipe you sent him-”

“He sent me dozens of recipes, you’ll have to be more specific-” Bombur started. 

“I told you he could break in, I don’t know why you’re still not giving me money!” that was Nori again, directed at Balin.

“These are the Halls-” Balin began.

“Bullshit, this is Bilbo, he stole from a dragon! This is all in a day’s work for him!” 

“Have you seen my Gimli up there?” That was Gloin. “You know, my beautiful laddy, with the curly red hair and the most beautiful eyes, I haven’t been able to find him and we haven’t heard anything about him in a long time for a while, I’m starting to get worried-”

“He just got here, Gloin, don’t start yelling about your kid again-” that was a voice he didn’t totally recognize but he saw Bifur without an axe and grinning widely as he spoke. 

Bilbo looked back up at Thorin, who was smiling at him in a way that made him come into focus and drown everything else out. 

“I’m glad to see you, Bilbo.” 

“I’m glad to see you too.” Bilbo smiled back at him. His dwarf reached up as if to touch his face again, but faltered.

“We’ve… we’ve got a lot to talk about.” 

“We do.” Bilbo agreed. “Bu-”

“Bilbo?” Someone shouted down the hole. He recognized his mother after a moment. He struggled out of the throng of dwarves much like a whale breaching for air. There was a shadow over the patch of sunlight from above, bits of dirt trickling in. 

“I’m fine!” he yelled back. “Be careful, it’s a pretty hard landing at the bottom, I don’t want you to slip!”

“Wait that’s the burglar?” someone in the crowd said. There was a loud shushing noise, a thwap, and an ow. 

“Are you hurt?”

“No, Mum, I’m alright!”

“Wait is that your mother?!” Kili and Fili said together. 

“Did you find your dwarves?”

“I’m going to regret this-” Bilbo sighed, then he pitched his voice back up high. “I fell but I’m alright, I just didn’t realize how far down I was!” He paused for a moment, then shouted back. “Do we still have the apple picking ladders?”

“I’m sure we can dig one up-” there was his father. Poor Bungo was probably tearing his hair out. “-are you hurt?”

“No, he’s not, he said he’s alright-” his mother’s voice was muffled. “-we’ll go check, darling, stay out of trouble!” 

“Can you throw down some cheese?” Bofur shouted. 

“Bofur!”

“Oh some apples would be lovely.” Dori sighed. 

“And some apples!” Bofur yelled a bit louder. 

“Just send down his whole larder!” Kili yelled. “And a boat! I need the hole to be big enough for a boat!”

In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit. This hole was comfortable, and warm, and cozy. It was also full of Bilbo Baggins’ things. This hobbit had lived a remarkable life and thus his home was quite remarkable in many ways, but the most intriguing bit about this hole was the larger hole in the backyard. It was surrounded by stones, with a lovely set of carved steps going up to the house. It led to a sturdy but worn wooden ladder that had been used for apple picking but now served to connect the Halls of Mahal to Gardens of Yavanna. This ladder fell in the center of a massive stone hall, which was filled with flowers that hobbits would come down to tend to. The two races regularly wandered through Bilbo Baggins’ garden to meet - dwarves would come up for market day bearing gifts and coins, eyeing steaming bread and crisp red apples, while some of the more adventurous hobbits would slide down the ladder to inquire about repairs for their tools. 

For Bilbo, though, this hole meant so much more. It meant thirteen dwarves crashing into his house ridiculously early in the morning to nag him into making them breakfast. It meant having his family, blood and not, over for dinner. It meant listening to his mother talk with Dori and Balin about tea, to his father engage Fili and Ori into long tales of age-old tales. It eventually meant Kili tugging a tall, red-haired elf into Bag End no. 2, covered in water while a tired Fili collapsing into a chair complaining that Kili and Tauriel hadn’t stopped making doe-eyes at each other. 

It meant that, after a long conversation with tears and laughter and shy touches, Bilbo made dinner with a dwarf that made him laugh as he stole pie filling and got flour on his nose and in his beard. It meant that Bilbo would come back to market to find someone frowning on his porch with little metal bits twisted in his lap as he worked on making ornaments for Bilbo’s garden. It meant that Bilbo Baggins woke up next to Thorin Oakenshield, one hand tangled in that beautiful dark hair. It meant that they sat on the bench under the oak tree and blew smoke rings into the setting sun, holding hands.

When Frodo Baggins finally entered Yavanna’s Gardens, he found his uncle beaming like he hadn’t in years, with a braid in his curls and a ring on his finger. There were thirteen dwarves in the living room, and Frodo was just in time for tea.

---

Thanks for reading!

This is based off of a post made by @wheeloffortune-design about Bilbo digging his way into Halls of Mahal, which has literally been living in my brain since I read it. (and @gallusrostromegalus put down some delightfully funny comments that also made my day) So… here we are. You can find the post here, assuming the link works!

The AO3 link is here!

man i love bagginshield. 

[unmaskedagain]

Remember You Young

I answered this ask because I thought it was adorable. I loved the show they wanted me to do, and I want to see who could guess it before it became obvious. Its a one-shot . 

She was being followed. At first it had been daunting when she realized it, and Marinette had done everything she could to shake them off her trail. Then she realized she was being stalked by kids. Literally kids. None older than ten or eleven at best.

           They had been terrible at hiding, rarely ever whispered, argued constantly, had the most outrageous costumes but somehow managed to keep up with Marinette’s every move... most of the time. They ran around with toy guns and pretend walky talkies.

           It either said the best thing about the kids’ skills, or the worst thing about Marinette’s.

           There was a husky boy who ran around in a blue shirt and goggles. He never took off the old pilot’s hat he wore. He was also… always eating cheese. Or candy. He liked puns that caused his friends to groan constantly.

           There was an Asian little girl who wore an adorable green sweater that was too big for her and the arms of the sweater went well past her hands. She was girly and seemed to be the sweetest of the bunch. Honestly, she was the happiest girl Marinette had ever seen in her entire life. The only time the kid had gotten upset was when she had cried when couldn’t find the stuffed animal she wanted in any of the stores. Marinette had been heartbroken for her. The bluenette didn’t know what a “Rainbow Monkey” was or why it had to be French but she was going to get it for the girl if it was the last thing she did it.

           A bald British boy seemed to be the leader as everyone took direction from him. Marinette had never seen his eyes due to the black glasses he wore. The kid seemed to believe himself to be some sort of superspy. He had a fierce take-charge attitude and barked orders like a pro and preferred to a treehouse their hung out at as headquarters. He didn’t smile often.

           A pretty black girl seemed to be the one with the most sense of the much, and the most style. She wore her hair in a long braid, a blue shirt-dress and an old red cap. The girl had a natural charisma and coolness to her that made Marinette feel awkward in comparison. She seemed to second-in-command .

           The smallest of the bunch was a blond boy with an unfortunate bowl cut and a bright orange hoody. He was loud, brash, and was the “tough guy” of the bunch. He picked a fight with nearly everyone. A fierce little guy that called Marinette a “Ruddy Teenager.”

           However all the kids seemed to dislike adults and teens to some degree. They cast suspicious glances at everyone thirteen and older no matter how nice they were. None of them ever called each other by their names, always opting to follow the rules of whatever game they were playing and called each other by numbers. And always mispronounced the word: number.

           Numbuh 1. Numbuh 2. Numbuh 3. Numbuh 4. Numbuh 5. Marinette hadn’t gotten close enough to figure out who was who but she did suspect the numbers were ranking order or anything. They were probably just random.

           After over two weeks of being stalked, Marinette still hadn’t been able to figure out what they wanted from her. Only that they didn’t know she was Ladybug. It was frustrating.

           She finally got answers one day while walking home from school when she got attacked by an evil cat lady who weaponized her pets, a deranged dentist who put braces on everyone, and a man dressed like toilet. They attempted to kidnap Marinette and raise all out heck on everyone around them. They weren’t Akumas. They were just crazy people.

           The kids fought them back. They saved the day. They saved Marinette. The villains ran with their tails between their legs.

           …Suddenly everything the kids had been doing didn’t seem like a game anymore.

           …Then the kids kidnapped Marinette. The kids jumped her, hogtied her, gagged her, and carried her back to their tree house… which Marinette now realized was way more advanced than any tree house should be. EVER.

           As soon as they got to there, and Marinette was uncharitably tossed on to the couch, the kids panicked.

“We shouldn’tve done this!” Goggles boy chimed. “We weren’t supposed to make contact. Moonbase will decommission us for sure.”

“And let the adults have her, Numbah 2,” The bald boy said. “I think not! We can never let the adults win. Its against everything the Kids Next Door stand for.”

The black girl nodded, “Numbah One’s right, we can’t let Father have what’s in her brain,” She said. “It could destroy the KND!”

“But that’s not possible, Numbah five, we all know that!” The girl in green said. “She got decommissioned. Her brain got all wishy-washy. Right, Numbah Four?”

           The blond boy huffed, “Yeah! Numbah Three’s got a point. And what’s so important about some ruddy teenager anyway? Tell you what! We should drop her artic ocean and never look back.”

           Numbah five groaned, “Are you stupid, boy? They sent Numbuh 274, I mean Chad, after her. And CREE! They wouldn’t have done that if she wasn’t important. The supreme leader wouldn’tve sent us to stop them from getting her! Ya moron.”

           Marinette frowned at that. Chad, the handsome foreign exchange student that came to Marinette’s class a few weeks ago. All the girls in school thought he was so dreamy. Even Marinette, even though she had been perplexed at the sad, almost wistful looks he would shoot her when he thought he wasn’t looking. And at the stories he told about his childhood, and woud look at Marinette like he was waiting for her to jump in and finish them. Almost like he knew her. Or expected her to suddenly remember him.

           The same with Cree, a foreign exchange student in a grade above Marinette’s, but to a lesser extent than Chad. The older girl liked to make sly remarks about what being a teen meant where she came from. She cracked what seemed to be inside jokes at Marinette and looked crestfallen when it was clear the bluenette didn’t understand what she meant. Then Cree would grumble about stupid kids ruining everything.

“But WHHHHYYY?” Numbah Four whined. “We got sent a like bajillion miles away to         a city where they force kids to eat bugs and smelly cheese all to protect a teenager. A TEENAGER! And they don’t even tell us why.”

           Numbah Two frowned, “It is kind of strange. I mean we hate teenagers! They’re the worse. Why save this one?” He looked at Marinette like she was specimen in a jar.

“Because team,” Numbah One announced loudly, pausing for, what Marinette knew was, dramatic effect.  “She is Numbah Seventy-Two.”

           Gasps rang through the room. The kids reared back as if struck. Their eyes went wide and they started at Marinette in awe.

“…Or at least she used to be,” Numbah One added.

“Woah,” Numbah Four said, looking at Marinette with newfound respect.

           Numbah Two sqeauled, “This is the best day ever. You have to sign my Yipper card.” He told Marinette. “It’s an ultra-rare collectable. Only three still exists. The rest were destroyed.”

“But, but, but how?” Numbah Five asked, removing her hat. “All records of Numbah Seventy-Two was struck from the history of the KND. Only the supreme leader and her team ever knew what happened to her.”

“They pinky-swore not to tell anyone what happened!” Numbah Three added. “No one would ever break a pinky promise.”

“That’s true,” Numbah five nodded. “No kid ever would. Expecially not her team. She saved us. She saved the KND. She saved the world and made it better for kids everywhere.”

           Numbah One nodded. “Exactly. No kid would ever break the solemn oath. But do you remember just who was one her team?”

           Looks of realization appeared on the kids’ faces, and then anger.

“Numbah Two Hundred and Seventy-Four,” Numbah Five said bitterly. “He was Number Seventy-Two’s second in command for years. And He betrayed her. Why am I not surprised?”

“But why?” Numbah Two asked. “I mean if she was still Numbah Seventy-Two I’d understand. She stopped Principle Boutface from ending summer vacation forever. She stopped Father from making Halloween adults only forever and ever. Name a bad guy, and I can guarantee she kicked their butts! And most importantly she even beat…” Numbah Two paused, clearly afraid. “well you know. She’s done loads of cool things. But She can’t remember anything. So why? Why come get her now?”

“She beat who?” Numbah Four asked. “I don’t know. Who’d she else did she beat? Why were they so important?”

           Numbah One and Five looked away. Both remembered but neither wanted to say anything.

“We were still just little babies when it happened,” Numbah Three answered seriously. “Still finishing training. We never really knew what was going on. Too little for anyone to tell us. We just knew it was bad. Kids were always scared, always hurting…”

“It was a dark time,” Numbah One agreed. “Before Father took over, there was another in charge of the evil adults in the world. But he worse than Father could’ve ever dreamed of being. Kids were scared to go to sleep. They were afraid of their closets and what was under their beds. OF every shadow. No kid would be caught out after dark. They were too scared. Nowhere was safe. No one was safe. Not from him. Not from…”

“The Boogieguy,” Numbah Five finished. “The most powerful leader the adults ever had. The strongest, most evil villain you can imagine. But Numbah Seventy-Two refused to back down. She was the only who could stand up to him. The only one to ever beat him.”

           Numbah Two nodded, “Legend says the Boogieguy had a nasty plan to open a portal to unleash meanest, nastiest monsters another world to get kids to behave better. But Numbah Seventy-Two heard and went to beat him once and for all. And she did too. She trapped him in his own trap. He’s been there ever since!”

Numbah Three added, “Numbah Seventy-Two finally defeated the Boogieguy, she locked him away in a place so scary, so terrifying not even the adults would be willing to go near it. Which it means it has to be really, really, REALLY, scary. Only she knew how to get him out. She used a super-secret password that only she knew. And then, and then she, she!” Numbah Three burst into tears.

Numbah One placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her down, “To stop the Boogieguy for good, and to make sure no kid ever had to suffer his wrath again, she decommissioned herself. She was only eleven.”

“It was a hard sacrifice, but one kids everywhere will never forget,” Numbah One vowed. “And the Global KND didn’t let it be in vain. We fought back harder than ever before. Her team-”

“But, but,” Numbah Four look around, “She wasn’t even a teenager, why’d she go and do a stupid thing like that for?”

“To save us,” Numbah Five answered, and put her hat back on. She looked at Marinette with hard eyes. “To save the KND, and protect kids everywhere. Because of her, the KND finally turned the tables on adults. We weren’t scared of the dark anymore.”

“Was never the same!” Numbah Five snapped at him. “None of them were ever the same after fighting Boogieguy, after what happened to Numbah Seventy-Two. They couldn’t handle being around each other anymore. They are transferred to different teams. Their entire sector was retired. Number Three Hundred and Sixty-Two. Numbuh Sixty. My sister- Cree! Numbah Two Hundred and Seventy-Four, UGH! Look what they became. Ya don’t need to be decommissioned to not recognize them anymore.”

           It went quiet. The kids not knowing what to say. Marinette had never been so confused in her life. Had she been some sort of Spy kid? Had her memories been erased? What was going on?

           And if everything, the kids were saying was real, and Marinette decided that it was, then she was a little peeved at Chad and Cree, her old teammates apparently, for going against everything this KND had accomplished… That Marinette had apparently sacrificed herself for. And what for? To side with some evil adults?

“…The KND have figured out a way to destroy Boogieguy forever,” Numbah one said. “Unfortunately the adults have also become aware of the Boogieguy’s location and want release him. In order for either side to succeed in their mission, we need Numbah Seventy-Two.”

           All eyes turned back to Marinette.

Numbah Five cast a sad look at Numbah Seventy-Two, Marinette, “Chad and Cree will come for her.” Of that Numbah five was certain. The lone picture of ABC that sat next to Cree’s bedside nightstand was proof enough of that. It was the only thing her big sister ever kept of her KND days, apart from her memories. The only “little kid” thing she didn’t scorn. “They won’t stop until they get her. I don’t think Cree or Chad ever forgave the KND agreeing that Numbah Seventy-Two should erase her memories.”

           They never forgave themselves for letting her, Abby didn’t add.

“She was decommissioned, hello!” Numbah Two reminded them. “She can’t remember anything.”

           Number One took off his glasses and looked at the teenager who, in another life, had been everything he ever dreamed of being in the KND. She was a legend. A hero. She had, once, been the best of them all. “She will.”

[written-beyond-the-grave]

Elija Mikaelsaon Dating a Black S/O Headcanons

Did anyone ask? No, did I deliver? Yes.

- Alright, so Elijah and the Mikaelson’s have been alive for a while. Never got a specific date, but we have vikings. And as Elijah has been alive for a minute, he’s had flings, situationships, lovers, and at some point out knight in shinning armor was probably a fuck boy… don’t @ me.

- What I’m trying to say is man probably did it all, Asian, Latinx, Caucasian and African American and maybe even African and Caribbean… Maybe even fucked around with his sexuality for a second because he got it like that and the writers were too pussy to put this shit on

- Tbh probably the originals tried all the genders and non-genders, change my mind. But elijah strikes me as a free for all who loves something refreshing that’ll take him out of Klaus’s bullshit for a minute

- But here’s were this shit gets spicey… Elijah… with a black s/o….. Just hear me out poc who been waiting for someone to give them good fucking food on poc x tvd/ the originals, I got y’all… unless college comes back.

- OK so, I feel like if you’re rocking with Elijah he’d dress you up and ice you out because he can. Nothing under $5,000 for his s/o… We talking furs, diamond, real leather, snake skin, hell even a whole ass snake if you wanna be on your Bruce Wayne shit一 better yet, your T’challa shit with a whole ass panther (black panther ain’t real soooo y’all can get a black puma and call that bitch a panther lmfaoooooo)

- He’s asking you to a dinner date and then you say you’re ready…. Wearing pretty little things…. Missguided… honey. (Nah ain’t shit wrong wit those brands, they be having bangers tbh and sales like a bitch) Let him upgrade youuuuuuu. You only wear Givenchy, Yves Saint Laurent, Burberry, Balmain, etc. Try walking out there looking a damn mess and distasteful… just try it sis 

- Speaking of which… my mans got you with hair too! Fuck you mean ?1?! 

- He had a black s/o in the past, even though her hair had loose curls… we won’t discredit her. He has some knowledge on how curl hair works, and if he’s lacking, he as a whole library and might fuck around and ask Bonnie in exchange for some witchy ingrdients (im cdfuuuuuu)

- Name, braids, twists, locs, finger waves. Wanna shave bald??? He’s for it, let him get you his barber. Fuck it, he’ll get you Marcel’s barber. Lined up and all that shit, throw in a fade too

- And coming in for wash day, he’s sitting behind you days in advance helping you take down your hair after a month or two. Grey sweatpants, scissors in hand, spray bottle to the side with Netflix as background music…. Fuck with it. You’re all tired after doing like 8 and he tells you to take it easy, with vamp speed and the deterixty of those fingers…. *chefs kiss*

- He sets up a lil wash day station for you, or if he’s on the clock just books a whole salon for you alone already paid for. But if he’s doing the work, best believe he spent the coinssss COINS for the organic shampoo shit you have the refrigerator and the deep conditioner, AND THE FUCKING LEAVE IN. He’s keeping your shit moisturized in the winter. His big hands and gentle fingers helping detangle your hair, you in a fluffy robe, enjoying being loved on….

- Y’all didn't even get me started on him doing twists… or plaits, or the bantu knots, the concentration on his face

- IDK why I gotta say this… nails done too, he loves the feel of your nails gliding on his scalp and down on his back when he’s giving you those slow strokes. 

- This doesn’t have to do with anything, but the fact that the originals were set in New Orleans which is mostly BLACK BLACK BLACK BLAAACCCKKKKK and I saw like 3 black people in that bitch, ong….. Julie Pleck, you basic bitch

- Anyways, I feel like Elijah in a trench coat coming to pick you up from work would be such a vibe and a mood. Like, he knows when you get off and you might just take public transportation or something to have some sort of independence. But he shows up after work when you’re leaving with some friends from work…. Nigga shows up in a dark blue cadillac, trenchcoat with the collar up, leather gloves… and a fresh cut

- Who tf let him out the house??

- And ik you’re friends trifling too asking who is he, a damn fine tall glass of milké

- And he’s just leaning against the door waiting for you and once he sees you, he waits for you expectedly and kisses your forehead in greeting and gets the door for you

- Speaking of driving, Elijah be too damn serious, and that’s were you come in. 

- I need him and the Miakelson’s at a cookout doing line dancing, the electric slide, cupid shuffle (and give Rebekak some goddamn friends shit, she everyone stay chasing love and shit but have 0 friends and boundaries, they drag family though the mud) 

- Like I need him out his suit and in some dark jeans, a solid white v-neck, rolex on his wrist, and white air forces

- Sitting there, kinda out of place until he settles in. Like I deadass see him asking where the tables are at the cookout and like… you break it to him he’s gonna have to do the table legs for that shit

- And the plastic cutlery! LMFAOOOOO his soul is slightly quaking

- And its finna be a whole ass test when an uncle comes up and grabs him by the shoulder in a greeting and tries to fill in the seat for spades or even worse…. Dominoes…. That’s it. It’s over. Elijah been alive for too long and knows every play in the book and can bluff his ass off

- But if we talking dominoes… we gon have the boondocks animation version of a nigga moments cuz y’all fights will be started, money will be lost…. To Elijah. In the end he gives it back bc he’s a good sport and bc humiliation is a greater victory 

- Lmfaoooo and the quiet drive back, you’re exhausted but the music station is playing throwbacks and Usher’s climax comes on and bitch… the high notes, the lamp posts that give you both a glimpse of each other’s side profiles. And for once Elijah is relaxed and coming down from his amusement. No one is trying to kill him or his siblings, and good food albeit greasy in his stomach.

- Dare he say he felt human for a moment

- You staring out the window and softly singing along enjoying what the day was, Elijah loving the ambiance created. Mmmmmm such a mood

- THAT BEING SAID imagine you and Elijah on a long drive and “I Mean It” by G- Eazy comes on and you start singing along bc data is expensive over long ass drives and being stuck in traffic. And Elijah is giving you a bemused look, you in all your glorious wonder and you just make the lyrics more dramatic ashit trying to be a heartbreaker and all that. But, the true heart breaker is Elijah

- He comes in on the verse and gives you all eye contact, lips completely sync but your can kinda hear his voice keep the tempo…. Bitch this makes me feel some type of way… and as he’s going on he grabs your face and tilts your chin up OOOOUUUU gets up all close and personal and finishes the lyrics which is perfectly timed with when the light turns green and turns back like nothing just happened. There yo are aping like a fish bc tbh if anyone could rap it’d probably be Kol, he’s like the emnemin mixed with busta rhymes type, but tone it down….

- Bitch imma go fantasize rapping Elijah, y’all been slept

- And for those asking yes, I do write for black readers, mor specifically female but I can try male

[amlovelies]

from which they never recovered

fandom: fhr pairing: Julia Ortega/f!sidestep (Cynthia Basri) rating/warnings: M--alcohol use/abuse as well as death/suicide reference. light spoilers for retribution. there’s some soft fluffy moments, but it ends with pretty heavy angst  words: 2.4k read on ao3

“They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered.” ― F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise 

 1525 days before            

               Julia winces and drops her hand. The angle she needs to start the braid is putting too much pressure on her injured shoulder. Her long dark hair is still damp after the shower washed away all the traces of blood and grime and God knows what else the fight had left on her. She could just leave it alone, let it air dry, but that’ll just mean a bigger fight later. Better to grin and bear it now, get it braided and tucked away even if hurts. It’s just pain. Julia is no stranger to pain.

               “Let me idiot” Sidestep says from as she rises from her chair on the other end of the breakroom.

              “What are you plotting?” Julia narrows her eyes. She never should have introduced her to Anathema. Themmy had always enjoyed pranks, but they had gotten much more effective ever since Sidestep had begun hanging out at HQ.

               “Nothing, I promise.” It’s amazing how Julia can hear the eye roll behind the unmoving mask. “It’s just a little pathetic watching you struggle, old woman.”

              Not afraid to ruffle feathers this one, maybe that’s why she likes having her around, even if the old barb stung a little. That’s fine, two can play at that game, “do you even know how to braid? For all I know you could be bald under there.”

               “I know how to do lots of things, Marshal.” Sidestep crosses to stand behind the couch, and Juila has to tilt her head back to keep her in her sights. Is she flirting?

               “Oh really? Have any other skills you’d like to show me?” Julia replies with a wink. Is she flirting back? This is new.

               “Do you want help or not?” She doesn’t wait for an answer instead pushing Julia’s head forward and beginning to gather the hair in her hands.  

               Julia is used to other people touching her. The doctors checking on her mods, the media team preparing her for an appearance. Hair and makeup and wardrobe buzzing around her making sure she looks presentable, attractive, heroic. It comes with the territory. So why then is a quiet tension building in her stomach, a fluttering awareness of how close Sidestep, no not Sidestep—Cynthia, stands? It’s still a new concession, the name, a small piece of the mystery of Sidestep. She rolls it around in her mind, still not used to it, but the moment feels too personal, too intimate for aliases.

               Her gloves are off, Cynthia’s bare fingers brushing against the shell of her ear, the back of her neck as she gathers all the loose strands together. Cynthia’s breath ghosts over on her scalp, her body standing so much closer than usual. Cynthia’s movements are soft and timid; the braid is looser than Julia would prefer, as if she’s afraid of making it too tight of pulling her hair, of hurting her.

               A world of difference from training where she never pulls her punches. Julia had gotten more than a handful of bruises from their sparring matches. Had given them too, Sidestep was never one to tap out, just a single minded intensity and desire to win. Julia could understand that.

               “I should have been quicker,” Cynthia’s words breaking the silence. Her voice cracking, just a little, just enough to make Julia reach back and grab her hand. Her skin is cool, softer than she expected.

               “And I should have been more careful.” A gentle squeeze of the hand

              “Fat chance of that happening,” Cynthia says with a laugh, extracting her hand, and returning her attention to finishing the braid.

              “You know me,” Julia’s chuckle is soft, her hand slowly returning to her lap. Her skin tingles, itches and she fiddles with the emitter. “I’d be a hell of a lot worse off than a sore shoulder if you hadn’t been there.” Hospitalized for sure, maybe dead.

               “I couldn’t let that happen when you owe me dinner.” A final twist and the braid is finished.

               “I better clear my debt then; c’mon I know just the place.”

1329 days before            

               “You don’t even know what I look like.” Cyn paces back and forth in the empty training room.  Frustration rolling off of her in waves.

              It had been six weeks, two of which Julia had spent worried sick because Cynthia wouldn’t return her calls. Finally breathing a sigh of relief when she’d shown up at HQ as if nothing had happened, resolutely sidestepping all of Julia’s attempts to get her alone, to talk to her about the kiss.

               Like dealing with a skittish animal, Julia had done her best to give her space. This was all new for her too, but dinner was a safe place to start, wasn’t it?

               “So?” Julia smile is soft her voice certain, “I know you.”

              “You only think you do” Cynthia scoffs, her pacing finally stilled as she stands with her arms crossed. No doubt glaring behind the mask.

               “Then show me, tell me.” Just one step closer. She isn’t moving away.

               “Nosy.”

              “I am.” A pause, “I would also like to kiss you again.” It comes out softer than Julia had intended, more an admission than a tease.

              She waits. Waits for a quip or an insult, something caustic and sharp, a way to put more distance between them, but it doesn’t come. Just silence.

               A deep breath, and then quick, so quick, Cynthia’s hands are moving and the mask is off. Her voice is hard as she asks, “still want to kiss me?”

               She looks smaller without the mask, smaller and younger and fragile. Just Cynthia, not Sidestep. She won’t meet Julia’s eyes. Her stance rigid and fierce as if expecting some sort of condemnation, as if Julia would take one look at be disgusted.

               “Very much so,” Julia admits, and it’s the truth. She’d hardly allowed herself to speculate on what lay under the mask. There were things she knew; facts gathered from the bits and pieces she had seen. The warm tawny color of her skin, the full swell of her lips, the way her smile goes crooked, images which had haunted the edges of her dreams.

               “You’re ridiculous,” Cynthia’s voice is brittle, all the hardness from before falling away.

               Had she really expected rejection? Couldn’t she see how beautiful she is?

               “I’ve been told that once or twice.”

              She’s rolling her eyes, but she isn’t pulling away as Julia tilts her face up. Her lips are chapped, but still soft. Soft, like the gasp that falls out of them just before their lips meet. Cynthia’s arms rising to wrap around Julia’s neck, and the kiss deepens into something molten and breathless.  

               The kiss breaks, and Julia pulls back. Not far, just enough to watch Cynthia’s face, to try and memorize her features and make them fit into the idea of Sidestep, for her brown eyes to begin to replace the white of her mask in her mind.

              She kisses her again, a small peck, and Cynthia chases her lips. Pulling her down, the kiss is hungry and unexpected. Soon, too soon, she’s moving away. Mask pulled down, features concealed, only the familiar blank visage of Sidestep and even that is turning away.

              “I should go,” mumbled almost as an afterthought as she nearly runs for the door. Julia watches her go hoping it won’t be weeks until she sees her again.

 518 days before

               Cyn is sleeping again. Good. Maybe those dark circles under her eyes will start to fade. She’d slept for most of the drive, passing out almost as soon as they left the city limits. Something is wrong, has been wrong for weeks now. Should have forced her to go to the hospital after the nanosurge. Thrown her over her shoulder and carried her there if she had to. It wasn’t right to see her this way. Julia knew using her telepathy took a lot out of Cyn. Had seen her drained and exhausted, but never like this.

                The city would be smoldering ruins if the military had their way.  Julia would be . . . she shudders at the memory. There wouldn’t be anything left but her mods. No piece of Julia left to bury, just Charge.

               Cyn had saved them all, and maybe broke herself in the process.

              At least she’s at the ranch now. Oh, it had taken days to get her to agree, but in the end, Julia had worn her down.  Mama hasn’t quit fussing over her; Cyn has offered little resistance, probably just because she is too sleep deprived and weak to protest, but it’s still a victory.

               Julia rejoins her mother in the kitchen. The last thing she needs is for Cyn to wake up and accuse her of watching her sleep. It would be true, but she can’t let her have the satisfaction.

               “You should have brought her sooner,” Elena admonishes.

               “I tried, Mama. She’s stubborn.”

               Her look is pointed, “so are you. Never stopped me.”

              “It’s not the same, Mama.” Julia sighs. They’ve struck a delicate balance the last few years. Cyn still disappearing on occasion, but only for days at a time. Not like before when she would be gone for weeks at a time. Reappearing with no explanation, but always looking worn. She keeps hoping that one day Cyn will share her secrets and let her help.

              Mama purses her lips, and Julia knows that look, knows she has more she wants to say and prepares herself for the old arguments and questions. Questions she wishes she had the answer for. Or at least wishes she knew Cyn’s answer. Julia knows hers, has for a while now.

              A shuffling sound as Cyn joins them and stops the lecture in its tracks. The circles are still there, but the deep crease between her eyes has softened. Good.

               “Did we wake you mija?” Mama voice is gentle unlike the glare she shoots at Julia. As if she hadn’t been talking too.  

               “It’s fine,” Cyn says with a yawn. “I’ve been napping too much today as it is,” she adds as she leans against Julia.

               It’s still a surprise when she’s willing to do that. To lean in, to hug, to kiss, to initiate contact rather than waiting for Julia to bridge the gap. Perhaps it’s a testament to how much stopping the nanosurge took from her. Cynthia not just accepting comfort, but seeking it out. The nosebleeds haven’t stopped, but at least they are less frequent. Leaning down, Julia presses a quick kiss to Cyn’s temple. She doesn’t even push her away.

              “Well, in that case, come help me with the vegetable, and Julia can work on the sauce.” Mama says as she begins grabbing ingredients and piling them on the counter.

               The three of them work well together, and Julia doesn’t even mind being the butt of all their jokes. Not that she’ll let them know that, after all she has a reputation to uphold. The bruising to her ego is worth it though, because at least Cyn is smiling and laughing. Almost looking like her normal self. Julia doesn’t trust her when she says she’ll be fine, but she hopes its true. Maybe a few days away from the city will be enough.

              Later, Cyn joins her outside. The stars are an unfamiliar sight, so used to the neon haze of Los Diablos, it’s easy to forget about them. It’s strange to think that they are still there, just hidden. They feel so much a part of the ranch and the open air, of childhood and more innocent times. A different world than the one of heroes and villains.

               Slipping her hand in Julia’s she whispers, “I won’t say that you were right, but thank you.”

              Julia can’t hide her smile as she captures Cyn’s lips in a kiss, but at least she resists the urge to say I told you so.

6 days after      

               She’s out of tequila. Fuck. Her edges are coming back into focus and there’s nothing to dull them.

              There’s a bar in walking distance, or she could get a cab. Have it take her to the wrong part of town, maybe get into a fight. Feel someone’s bones crunch under her knuckles, pretend it’s her own face. It’s all her fault after all. Should have trusted her instincts, should have made her stay out of it. Should have been quicker, should have had a firmer grip. Flash of green and the sound of breaking glass, right there in the back of her eyes. Nearer is better. Just need to get another drink. Need to make it all disappear, stop feeling the skinsuit slipping out of her fingers. Stop seeing her face (oh god she’ll never see her face again, never hold it in her hands, never see her crooked smile). Tequila, she needs more tequila.

                Her braid is a sad and tattered thing in her hands. Jagged edges where she’d had to fight to get the knife through the thickness. She shakes her head and it feel light, her hair swinging around, wrong. It feels so wrong. Everything feels wrong now.

               It still feels unreal. An empty coffin in a grave marked by a fake name, it can’t be real, it has to be some cruel joke.

               The braid goes in the trash, she can’t look at it anymore. Can’t look at it without feeling Cyn’s ghostly hands. Always so careful and thorough (not anymore, they can’t do anything anymore), pulling loose strands back from her temple. It had been such a fragile thing at first. A closeness she hadn’t looked for. She could never have expected the way the touch of her hands would make her breath catch. Need more tequila. Have to keep the memories at bay.

               The feeling of loss when the braid was finished and Cynthia stepped away. As if she knew the first thing about loss then (is that her laugh?)

                She’d been such a coward. So afraid of pushing too hard, but she’d lost her anyway and it was her own fault. She’d lost her anyway and the words she never said burn in her stomach. Tequila. She wants to drown them (it won’t be enough) wants to drown herself.

               Tequila. She’s no stranger to pain.  She just needs (needed to tell her, will never get to now) more tequila.

tagging: @lord-king-saint, @roses-and-roo @lilyoffandoms @pearlsandsteel @kittlesandbugs and @bunny-loverxiv

[inspector-montoya-fox]

let’s talk about why Justine Courtney is a badly written character

it’s been a hot minute since i’ve finished Investigations 2 but i can confidently say it’s very much one of the best Ace Attorney titles, perhaps even as good as Trials & Tribulations. but, that doesn’t mean it didn’t have its flaws, and i think, as much as i love her, Courtney was one them. loads of stuff didn’t really make sense, and her story arc as some sort of antihero didn’t quite gel. let’s dive into specifics (spoilers ahead):

i wanna start off by saying that this character genuinely holds a special place in my heart. if you follow me and my friend’s podcast, Turnabout Podcast, you might know that Investigations 2 was the first game i played without my friend giving me any previews or opinions because it’s the only game in the series that i played first. as such, when Courtney was first introduced, she made an impact by being a female judge sans the restraint of the court. you mean to tell me the judges in the Ace Attorney universe have... a waist, legs and feet !? when i tell you i thought this character was amazing, i mean it. easily one of the best things about my playthrough, something that surely wouldn’t change ever. but before i get into the bad writing, i wanna say that honestly, Courtney has some pretty nice moments in the game.

i think, first and foremost, diversity. like we can clearly see that the traditional Judge borrows heavily from what we all imagine a stereotypical judge would look like. bushy beard, black robes, bald (?). the only thing missing would be an over-the-top white wig with the curls. so, enter Courtney, this woman wearing her pink garment with some astral/cross details, braids in a circle with a thunder-esque fringe in the front, and holding a mini gavel to smash your skull in with. her attire and overall character design successfully portrays a woman who places her faith on the justice system above all else - and that’s a major aspect of her character. honey, she’s serving Florence + the Machine Ceremonials, divine eleganza. this is a prude above all else, and a firm believer that the justice system will prevail in the end, always and forever.

so, with this all in mind, you’d think we’d get a character who’s shtick is ‘blind faith’, etc. i mean, i love Ace Attorney but i have to admit most characters are pretty one-dimensional: Lisa Basil is a computer, Olga Orly is a reveal queen, Phineas Filch is a thief, and so on and so forth. it was a pretty big surprise when Courtney failed to maintain her single trait. the woman clearly doesn’t have a personality or a life outside her job; and even that would make for more interesting character development than what we got. instead, she starts off as an annoying foil to Edgeworth’s plans with some crazy-ass antics, and then proceeds to be excruciatingly irritating just because... she can ???? i feel like the writers had no idea what to do with her so they merged all their half-baked ideas together to form someone with enough systematic power to go against Edgeworth once he effortlessly put Sebastian Debeste in his place. lemme change the paragraph because i’m about to pop off.

Justine Courtney is like... 26 different people. she’s a mother, a judge, an investigator, a babysitter and a pain in the ass all at once. lil mama multi-faceted. the shift in tone doesn’t make sense and isn’t supported by anything in the narrative whatsoever. ok, she was basically playing lapdog to Sebastian in order to get closer to Blaise, i guess. but, why introduce her as someone who’s an avid justice system aficionado and supporter and not drive it all the way home or make it consistent throughout? that’s her entire thing in the Imprisoned Turnabout, talking about the Goddess of the Law and her motivations, but then in the Inherited Turnabout, she barely mentions any of it. instead of maintaining her black-and-white view of the law in order to develop it and make her come to a realisation that it’s not always like this, the writers tried shoving in other stuff like her playing secret agent trying to bust Blaise, or her being a mom.

the storyline at the end where she has a change of heart is completely and utterly unsupported by anything. why help Edgeworth when you’re the one who is to blame for everything !? you’re the reason he’s locked up !? again, if they had just stuck to one tone/ story arc/ theme, it would all make sense. black-and-white view Courtney would realise that Edgeworth is clearly a grey anomaly; mom Courtney would feel something for Sebastian because of her love for John; film noir Courtney would be a double-faced minx who reveals to Edgeworth why she was so eager to antagonise him. but when you put all of these together, it becomes such a convoluted mess that sees none of these aspects fully develop. most of these “character traits” also clash with each other at times, like how she helps Sebastian, an amateur prosecutor, put away people who are most likely innocent (apart from Simon Keyes) despite her undying trust and devotion in the law, or maybe even how her strong motherly instinct would probably prevent her from using Sebastian in order to get closer to Blaise and then ignore the kid’s meltdown in the final case.

and don’t get me started on the teen pregnancy thing. you had to know a secret or a reveal was coming, but that took me out of an otherwise outstanding case just because the Ace Attorney writers refuse to acknowledge that they have an issue with women and their ages. it was a horrifyingly disgusting experience for me doing the math during the Grand Turnabout and then, until it was revealed that John is actually her nephew, i couldn’t think of anything else. looking past how much of a horrible decision it was and how the writers don’t know how to properly give accurate ages to their female characters, it further took away from Courtney’s flawed character. you can’t just give this woman 209131 different storylines, neglect to develop them because she’s kept in the sidelines, and then place her in the forefront of the final major case. that’s not how it works? because when John was abducted, putting my hate for children aside, i genuinely didn’t really care about him. although, i have to admit, the mother-son moments were pretty sweet, and we often praise this on the podcast as well - i truly believe Courtney is an amazing mom, who wants nothing than the best for John. either way, the work wasn’t put in and as such i didn’t really care for a character who failed to gain my devotion and emotional attachment.

when you compare Courtney to other main female characters such as Franziska or Mia, the difference is undeniable. even when we compare her to the Judge, it’s clear that she fails to make an impression on the player because her traits are not consistent. ‘she lacked substance’ would be the TLDR version. if you want more Justine Courtney criticism, @ironicsnap​ quite literally pops off here and we discuss the age thing in detail. but to conclude, i think we should have gotten one version of Courtney. my favourites from the bunch would have to be “film noir” investigator Courtney or the “blind faith” one because i think that would make for interesting character development above all else. i would love to see Courtney be the prosecution’s pawn and then realise that and actually switch sides. if this was the case then she could return in later installments and interact with characters such as Kristoph Gavin, who have similar story-arcs.

[cantteachanoldguardnewquotes]

Trich

Special thanks and much love to my beta readers @energievie @thebiggestnaturaldisaster @god-of-narcissism @haniawritesthings they were a Delight to work with and my story was very much improved 💕💕💕💕💕

Read on ao3

Warnings: Trichotillomania, emotional hurt/comfort (please let me know if I should tag anything else)

It was still unbelievable. It had been four months and Andy still couldn't believe Quynh was back with her. Most of the time when she had to remind herself this was real, that she wasn't only dreaming, she would have to find Quynh and tell her again how much she loved her. This time, as she mulled over the miracle of Quynh's return in her mind, she only needed to whisper it in her ear.

"I love you." Andy murmured, stroking Quynh's hair.

Quynh was already half-asleep but she still smiled and managed to mumble it back.

Quynh was still getting used to the twenty-first century. She loved the modern conveniences and how simple many things had become, her favorites being a toss-up between showers and how easy it can be to make food, but everything was so new and different it was still a lot to process, still a lot she needed to catch up on. She would excuse herself from the group frequently, still feeling the need to rest a lot. This meant ample time for cuddles and Andy was not complaining.

Andy continued to stroke her hair as the two of them drifted off. She was surprised when her hand ran across a smooth patch on the back of her head. She ran her hand over it again, wondering what it could be. It was covered by the rest of her long hair. She tried to look but couldn't with how Quynh was laying on top of her. She shrugged it off, since it hadn't been bothering Quynh enough to mention it and quickly joined her love in slumber.

Quynh woke up early that morning to make coffee and brought it back to Andy. She sat quietly, waiting for Andy to open her eyes, letting the smell slowly wake her up. Of course if you asked Andy she would argue that with all the sugar and cream Quynh added it couldn't even be called coffee.

Andy looked up at her and smiled a half smile letting her eyes drift closed for a few more moments before she stretched and sat up. She took her cup, taking in a long slow breath to smell the wonderful aroma and then let it out in a contented sigh. "Did you sleep well?" It had become something of a habit to ask Quynh how she'd slept. Andy tried everyday to ease the pain in Quynh's heart, but she couldn't chase away all of her nightmares. It was her way of gauging what pace to set for the day.

Quynh took a sip of her coffee. "It was alright. I slept most of the night and this time it actually feels like I did." She gave Andy a soft smile.

Andy smiled back. "I'm glad to hear it." She then set her cup down. "Can I fix your hair for you?" She never tired of brushing and fixing Quynh's hair, but she was also thinking about the spot she'd found last night.

Quynh didn't need to be asked twice, nodding happily and moving to the edge of the bed so it would be easier to sit without putting her drink down.

Andy grabbed a brush and an elastic and started gently working the knots out.

"Will you tell me a story?" Quynh asked sweetly. She loved hearing about all the things Andy had done while she was gone and Andy had a way of making her feel almost as if she was there too.

"Anything in particular?"

"Something nice."

Andy racked her brain for something light and smiled when she thought of just the right story to tell.

"I was the first person to introduce Joe and Nicky to skydiving. It's an amazing rush and I've been hooked since the first time I did it, I'll have to take you one of these days. I did it often enough that I got some training and became certified to jump with someone strapped to me. Naturally, I picked Joe to go with me and Nicky was strapped to another dive instructor. They weren't really scared, I mean, with everything we've been through we've all jumped from things under worse circumstances but the first time is always intimidating. I told him I would jump on three and the noise that came out of his mouth when I jumped on one is going to be something I cherish forever. Thought he might kill me when we landed because I pretended the chute was broken and only pulled it at the last second. Told him to come up with a cover story while we plummeted for why we weren't dead and everything. I don't think he fully believed me but he was still mad." Andy was laughing too hard at the memory to keep fixing Quynh's hair and had to take several deep breaths before she could continue.

Quynh was laughing too, how could she not when Andy's was so contagious?

That was another thing that surprised Andy. Her laugh came so much easier now that Quynh was back. Sure, she had laughed and joked with the guys plenty of times but she felt so free now, so unburdened and her laughter showed it.

Andy began fixing her hair once more and rediscovered the spot, parting her hair to get a good look at it. She frowned, slightly when she saw that it was actually two spots, both about the size of a dime, though not perfectly round. "Does this hurt?" Andy asked, gently running her fingers over the spots.

Quynh seemed surprised. "No, I don't feel anything. Why?" She reached her own hand back to feel where Andy had touched.

"There's just some hair missing but it's small and if it doesn't hurt I'm sure it's nothing."

Quynh shrugged. "Yeah, it's probably nothing."

Andy finished braiding her hair, giving it a playful tug to signal she was done.

*****

A few days had passed and Andy was still thinking about the spots on Quynh's head. She didn't know how concerned she should be since Quynh didn't seem concerned herself and she didn't want to overreact to nothing, so she didn't bring it up again.

It was a quiet day around the house. Joe and Nicky had gone for a hike, Nile and Booker were checking out the farmers' market and she and Quynh were relaxing at the safehouse.

Quynh had the TV on, watching some murder mystery show. Andy had missed the whole beginning despite Quynh's attempts to wait for her, so instead she was working on fixing the wobbly side table.

At a particularly intense scene she looked over to see Quynh's reaction and noticed she was messing with her hair right where she had seen the bald spot. "Does it itch?"

"Hmm?" Quynh put her hand in her lap and looked at Andy, confusion written on her face. "Does what itch?"

"It looked like you were scratching the spot I found the other night." Andy gestured to her own hair as a reminder.

"Oh no, it doesn't itch."

Quynh got sucked back into her show and didn't say anything else about it, so Andy went back to fixing the table.

*****

The next time Andy noticed Quynh messing with her hair was when she took her to a very busy mall. Sometimes she still struggled with the hustle and bustle of twenty-first century life. Andy had made sure she actually wanted to come and wasn't just doing it for her sake and Quynh had insisted she would be alright.

Quynh was not alright, though, it was too loud, there were too many smells and too many people. She should have taken up Andy's other offer to go for a bike ride instead.

Andy was holding her hand, taking great care not to get separated and add more unnecessary stress on top of what her love was already experiencing. She knew Quynh was trying to put herself out there, being the fearless spirit that she was but Andy also knew it was overwhelming and she was still healing emotionally and mentally from being isolated for so long. Andy tried to get her to take things easy but Quynh refused. She wanted to feel like she fit into these times now, not in a few months or even worse, years. Andy both admired her for it and worried about her. Most days she wasn't sure which emotion was stronger. In the end, she always let Quynh set her own pace.

"We can leave anytime you want." Andy reassured her, pulling her in close and linking their arms together, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Quynh smiled gratefully but ultimately shook her head. "I want to try that ice cream you've been talking about."

Andy chuckled at her undying love of sweets. "Alright, it's right this way."

Andy noticed when Quynh was trying to pick a flavor that her hand went to the back of her head again. She found herself wondering why that spot in particular if it didn't hurt or itch? She made a mental note to check on it again.

They enjoyed their ice cream and bought some new clothes, then went back to the safehouse. Booker and Nile had dinner ready for everyone and they all had a good time catching up on everyone's day.

When they retired to their room after helping with dishes, Andy asked. "Can I braid your hair before bed?"

Quynh looked about ready to fall asleep as soon as where head hit the pillow but it had been a while since Andy had done her hair and after such a long day it was an offer she couldn't refuse. She hummed her agreement and they both sat cross-legged on the bed.

Andy carefully brushed her hair but before she began braiding it she checked the spots again. To her dismay they were bigger and there were a few more spots near them. She looked more closely and could see that some of the hair was starting to grow back but it was so short you couldn't even grasp it yet.

Quynh was too tired to notice Andy had stopped, so she finished braiding her hair, wondering the whole time what was going on. She knew Quynh was still healing, she had watched a paper cut heal just this afternoon.

After Quynh had fallen asleep, her head resting comfortably on Andy's shoulder and one of her legs thrown over her, Andy decided to see if the Internet had any suggestions for the hair loss. She hated using her phone for anything other than talking into it but it was a practical way of getting information.

She saw plenty of reasons why someone could be losing their hair and it was a little tricky factoring in their healing abilities. Trichotillomania kept coming up and it seemed to fit. Usually caused by stress, PTSD or anxiety. Andy knew just how much Quynh was suffering from all three of those despite trying to hide it. She decided she would keep a closer eye on her to see if she could tell whether or not Quynh was doing this to herself.

*****

A few days after that night Quynh wanted to go with Nile and help with the grocery shopping.

Andy double-checked that Quynh was sure about going out again but she insisted it would be fun, even telling Andy she could stay home and relax if she wanted.

Of course, that was the last thing Andy wanted to do.

Driving there Andy watched Quynh out of the corner of her eye and noticed her hand going back to that spot. Andy felt her heart break a little when she saw that Quynh had plucked a piece of hair from her head. In that moment she desperately wished she could take all of her troubles away with just the sweep of her hand or a gentle word but healing always takes time. Andy decided to simply place her hand on Quynh's knee and give it a gentle squeeze. She smiled when Quynh used both of her hands to cover Andy's.

*****

Andy continued watching Quynh. She was waiting for the right moment to sit down and talk to her about what she thought was going on but she was also trying to figure out if there were specific times Quynh was pulling so that she could find a kind way to distract her. She was worried it would only stress Quynh out more if she talked about it.

"Can I fix your hair before bed?" Andy asked one night. She felt like they could both use a little help with unwinding.

"That's ok, I can do it." Quynh answered.

Andy nearly got whiplash from turning to look at Quynh so fast. "What?"

Quynh shrugged like it was nothing. "I can do it."

Andy just stared at her. Of course there were plenty of nights when Quynh would braid her own hair, even a handful of nights when Quynh had told her no, for one reason or another but Andy instantly knew this was different.

Still it had been a long day, so she kept her voice light and teasing as she said. "I know you can do it but don't you want me to?"

"Tonight I'll do it."

Andy didn't miss the guilty look that passed over Quynh's face, and Quynh knew it. She looked anywhere but in Andy's eyes and quickly started braiding her own hair.

Andy walked over to her, gently covering Quynh's hands with her own to still them. "Quynh, what's going on?" She asked softly.

Quynh still wouldn't meet her eyes, instead looking down at the carpet. "Nothi... Wha-?" She tried to say Nothing, silly, to ask her Whatever do you mean? But she couldn't lie to Andy, she wouldn't, but she also didn't have the heart to tell Andy what was going on, she didn't want her to worry. Instead she squeezed her eyes shut and just stood there.

Andy tugged lightly on her hand, leading her to their bed and Quynh followed, she would always follow Andy.

"Hey, hey it's alright, Quynh. You can relax, I've got you." Andy murmured as they sat down and Andy gathered her into her arms, laying Quynh's head over her heart, kissing the top of her head and then resting her cheek on it.

"Please, Quynh. Please talk to me." Andy pleaded as the silence stretched between them. She couldn't stand the thought of Quynh feeling like she couldn't talk to her, like she needed to hide anything from her.

Quynh couldn't refuse, not when Andy held her like she was scared of losing her again. "I..." She trailed off with a shuddering breath and then started again. "I don't want you to see how much hair I've lost. Because... It's me. I'm the one causing it. I... I keep pulling out my own hair and I don't know why and I don't know why I can't stop."

Andy felt Quynh's tear land on her arm and realized she had waited too long before talking about this. She hadn't thought Quynh would feel the need to hide this and carry it on her own. "Oh my heart, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry, I should have talked to you earlier about this. I think you have something called Trichotillomania and it's when people pull their hair because of stress and anxiety. It's compulsive, you'll hardly realize you're doing it, but a lot of people have it, you're not the first."

"There are other people who do this? So many it has a name?"

"Yes and considering everything you've been through..." Andy's arms tightened protectively around her. "Well, I count myself the luckiest person alive just for having you back with me."

Quynh pondered her words and when she spoke it was barely a whisper. "But what if I pull it all out? I know how much you love my long hair, how much you enjoy braiding it."

Now it was Andy who had to squeeze her eyes shut to keep the tears at bay so they could keep talking. "Oh, Quynh, I hope you know that nothing will ever stop me from loving you and wanting to take care of you."

"I know, Andy, I do."

Andy believed what she said, but she had to make sure there wasn't a shred of doubt in Quynh's mind. She tilted Quynh's head back and kissed her soft lips, tasting the salty tears. She kissed her long and slow and Quynh kissed her right back.

"I love you, Quynh. You could have no hair, no limbs, your face scarred beyond recognition and I would still love you because those things don't define you, those are not what I fell in love with a millennia ago."

Andy saw her eyes relax some but not completely, so she kept talking. "I fell in love with your brave spirit that never puts up with cruelty, I fell in love with the way you laugh at every bad joke you've ever heard, I fell in love with the way you fight for what you believe in. Everything that makes you you, Quynh, that's what I'm in love with."

Now Quynh was crying even harder. She wrapped her arms around Andy's neck and sobbed into her shoulder.

Andy held her tight, slowly rubbing Quynh's back just the way she liked and she cried too.

They stayed like that for a long time, until both of them felt like they had cried out every tear they had.

"Hey, how about I get us some water? Are you as parched as I am?" Andy asked, placing a kiss to Quynh's neck.

Quynh nodded her head and squeezed Andy's hand, returning a kiss to Andy's temple.

She came back with two cups of water and they both drank them down quickly. "More?" She asked, taking the cup from Quynh.

Quynh shook her head. "No, thank you."

Andy put the cups on the floor and crawled back in bed, gathering Quynh close to her once more. They were both completely exhausted.

"I love you." Quynh whispered.

Andy nuzzled her neck. "I love you too."

*****

Quynh was up before Andy and went to make coffee and start the day.

Andy was awake when she came back into their room. "How are you feeling?"

Quynh shrugged. "Tired. Worn out." She handed Andy her coffee.

"You could have stayed in bed with me." Andy tugged playfully on her pajama shirt.

"I like bringing you coffee in bed, it makes your eyes light up."

"Oh, it's not the coffee that makes my eyes light up." Andy leaned forward and gave Quynh a kiss.

They fell silent drinking their coffee and staring out the window at nothing in particular.

Quynh cleared her throat, breaking the silence. "I got up early to look into Trichotillomania." She said it quietly, as if she almost sounded guilty about it.

Andy's eyes softened. She moved so they were sitting side by side and took her hand. "You are not alone in this, my heart. Please don't forget that."

Quynh laid her head on Andy's shoulder and stroked the back of her hand with her thumb. "I know, I know you're here for me. I just wanted to look for myself while the house was still quiet and everyone was asleep."

"And?" Andy felt like she wanted to continue.

"While I'm getting used to everything." She vaguely gestured." To being back, to adjusting to the twenty first century, I... I think I would like to shave my head. I can't stand the thought of pulling it all out, and even if I start to pull from somewhere else it should be better than this." She paused, tracing the rim of her mug with her thumb. "Then when I'm more adjusted to this new world I can try growing it out and work on getting help." She held her breath, waiting to see what Andy would say.

Andy kissed her forehead. "I have clippers with me, whenever you're ready. May I do the honors?"

Quynh let out the air she'd been holding. "Thank you, my love. Thank you for understanding, of course I'll let you do it."

"There's nothing to understand. I've been wondering what you would look like with a new do anyway. I think it will look incredibly chic and sexy."

Quynh actually laughed at the way Andy wiggled her eyebrows when she said that and it warmed Andy's heart so much she thought she might burst.

"I'm ready now, let's do it this morning." Quynh said with confidence.

Andy jumped up and grabbed the clippers from the drawer she kept them in. "How short do you want to go? Do you want to see skin? No skin?"

Quynh cocked her head to the side. "You pick, just make it short."

Andy placed a hand dramatically to her heart. "Your trust in me is touching."

Quynh grinned. "Drama queen."

They headed out to the kitchen and Andy began to set up just as Nile and Joe emerged from their rooms looking barely awake. Nicky was already in the kitchen making omelets for everyone.

"What's going on?" Nile asked, looking skeptically between the two of them.

"Quynh's getting a haircut." Andy flicked the clippers on and off once for emphasis.

"She's letting you do it?" Nile asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Hey, I can cut hair."

"Hmm, I'll have to see it to believe it."

"She's cut all of our hair before but she's not allowed to touch Joe's anymore." Nicky chimed in.

"Why can't she cut Joe's?" Quynh asked.

"She gave him a terrible mohawk and then hid the clippers so we had to wait days before we could fix it." Nicky explained. "I haven't let her touch his curls since."

Andy threw her head back and laughed. "He deserved it."

"I did not!" Joe interjected.

"He ate my baklava and didn't even buy me more." Andy explained.

"It wasn't me, that was Booker!"

"Booker didn't do it. I knew instantly you were lying."

Joe grumbled something about her having no proof.

Nile looked around. "Is he still in bed?"

"Most likely, I think he stayed up late watching movies." Nicky said.

"Sorry, my heart, for the delay, I'm ready now." Andy patted the chair and Quynh sat down.

"Hmm, I don't know, I think they've changed my mind about letting you do it." Quynh teased.

"Turning my own wife against me." Andy shook her head.

Nile rolled her eyes. "As if."

Quynh only laughed.

Andy studied her assortment of clips before selecting the number two. "It's gonna be short." She warned Quynh.

"I'm ready."

"A buzz? Oooh, that's exciting, Quynh!" Nile moved chairs so she could easily watch Andy work.

Andy turned the clippers on, took a breath and made the first cut. She worked the clippers around Quynh's head and made sure it was perfectly even before turning them off and admiring her handy work.

"I love it." Andy said, running her hand over the top of Quynh's head feeling how different it was compared to what she was used to. She had to resist the urge to kiss it until after Quynh could wash it and make sure all the little hairs were gone.

Quynh ran her hands over it. "It feels so weird."

"Good weird or bad weird?" Andy asked.

"It's good." Quynh reassured her.

"Wow, Quynh, you pull it off so well! It makes you look very elegant." Nile said.

Joe and Nicky chimed in with their love for the new look.

"I'm gonna go look at it." Quynh said.

"Wait." Andy said, causing her to pause. "You said you trust me?"

Quynh eyed her, trying to figure out what she had up her sleeve but answered immediately. "Yes."

"I'm gonna add something, alright? A finishing touch I think you'll like."

Quynh nodded and settled back in the chair.

Andy picked up the trimmers and got to work.

Nile came up behind her to watch what she was making. "Aww." She exclaimed once she realized what Andy was doing.

Quynh smiled but didn't say anything, waiting patiently.

"Done. This time for real. Go look, my love." Andy kissed Quynh's cheek.

Quynh ran to the mirror to see and was surprised by how much she liked the shaved look. Then she turned her head so she could see what Andy did to the side and saw she had shaved a heart just above her ear.

She ran back out to the kitchen, flinging her arms around Andy to give her a crushing and urgent kiss.

Quynh knew she had a lot of healing left to do, that none of it would be easy but if her heart remained by her side, she knew they could face anything.

[happys-crazy-queen22]

Title: The Perks Of Santo Padre

Gif credits @clayymarek. @fromthesixteenthfloor

Requested on wattpad

Hope you all enjoy

Happy reading dollies

Taglist: @ilovetaquitosmmmm. @nocturnalherb16 @jesseswartzwelder @twistnet. @leaalfred. @mayans-mc. @baylishh. @ifoundmyhappythought

It was your first week at your new home in California, the place was beautiful. You didnt think it would be this nice. The sun shined all the time, not like rainy old Ireland.

This was going to be a life for you and it needed food. So you went shopping at the local farmers market.

You were causally going to venders and grabbing what you needed. They were super nice  and sweet to you. Stopping at a honey vender you grabbed a bottle of honey and almost dropped it when the roars of motorcycles came flying through. They cat called and whistled at the girls as they went by. Some of them quite handsome. They had some nice bikes too.

"Mayans". The man said as he came up to the table you were at.

"Excuse me"?

"Mayans. They run theses parts. I suggest you stay clear of them. They're bad news".

You laughed him off. "Thanks. How much"?

"Take it. As a welcome present". He smiled.

"Thank you. That's very kind of you". You smiled back and went on your way, the bikers lingering in your head. 

Months had past and you were working as an event planner with friends. You've had made so many new friends that life was partying and enjoying your youth.

You had went back to the farmers market like you did every weekend but this one time would change.

You were out with your friend enjoying the smells of food and music. Just happened to bump into one of the Mayans that had been on your mind.

"Sorry, there lil mama". A tall bald guy chuckled to his friend as he rolled a toothpick between his lips.

"It was me. I wasn't paying attention". You shyly looked up at him.

"You're not from around here are you"? Another man asked.

"I'm from Ireland".

"Long way from home. Why would you leave a place like that to move here"?

"I needed to breath. Parents were smothering me. So I found a place that I knew they wouldn't come to". You giggled.

"Yeah, we know how parents can be. I'm Gilly and this is Hank". The bald one introduced him and his friend.

"Y/N".

"Well, it's nice to meet you Y/N. You should come to one of our parties. We'd love to have a sexy girl like you there". Hank made you blush under his gaze.

"I dont know". You bit your lip.

"Locals warned you didn't they? You shouldn't believe everything you hear. We're not that bad". Gilly got close to you and whispered in your ear.  "Here's the address if you want to stop by". He handed you a piece of paper.

"We'd love if you came. All the guys will drool over you. You'll be beating them off with a stick". Hank said making you giggle and blush hard.

"I'll see".

"I will pick you up at nine". Hank said as he and Gilly went to walk off.

"Wait, how do you know where I live"?

"Like I said locals talk". He sent you a wink and walked off. Your heart beating a mile a minute. It was exciting to be noticed by them. You never got that back home.

You just had to get home and get dressed up. The perfect outfit was calling your name yet you had nothing to wear for this special moment. So you called over your friend and brought over a sexy little number. It was a black strapless dress, that was super tight and showed way to much but you looked really good in it and you felt powerful.

Nine pm on the dot someone came knocking on your door. You checked yourself before opening the door. Had to make sure you looked good.

"Wow, you look great". Hanks jaw dropped as you closed the door behind you. 

"Thanks, you dont look so bad yourself". You ran your hand down his kutte. 

"Shall we"?

"Yeah". Hank lead you to his bike. Crap, you totally forgot that you had to ride a bike.

"How am I supposed to ride that thing"?

"Push up that dress, throw your leg over and hop on". Hank chuckled.

"Not funny". You laughed sticking your tongue out.

"I have a jacket you can wear. It's kinda big". He went to his saddle bags and pulled out a hoodie and handed it to you.

"Thanks". You slipped it on and did as Hank told you, you wrapped your arms around his waist.

"You look even sexier with a hoodie on. Damn". He growled as he started up his bike. "Hold on tight". He said and pulled off, going what felt like a hundred miles down the road. 

"You okay"? Hank asked as he turned off the motor of his bike.

"Yeah. I'm great". You got off and waited for him.

"You keeping that"? He pointed to his hoodie.

"If that's okay? I'm cold". You said as your teeth chattered.

"Yeah, let's get you a drink to warm you up". He chuckled under his breath as he wrapped his arm around you.  Heading into the Mayans club.

As you walked in you saw some of the faces that road past you. They were laughing and drinking. Having a good time. Hank walked with you to the bar and order you and himself a beer. 

"Tranq. How's it going brother"? A tall man with long hair came up and slapped Hank on the back with a laugh.

"Good. Brother.  Really good". He smiled at you.

"Who's this lovely lady"? He asked taking your hand in his. 

"Y/N". You replied with a smile.

"Oh and she's Irish". He whistled.

"Taza is the name".

"Nice to meet you".

"This is Creeper. He's not really a Creeper, he just tells people he is. Especially the ladies. They get a kick out of his name". Taza explained, as the man beside him named Creeper rolled his eyes. 

"Nice to meet you too". You watched Taza as he looked you up and down, a blush crept upon your cheeks.

"Hey, I'm going to introduce her to Bishop". Hank lead you away from the bar, going to a man named Bishop. On the way you picked up a strangler named Gilly.

"Prez, this is Y/N". Hank introduced you to a man with a mustache. They all were good looking, maybe it was in the water. But they probably didnt drink water so it had to be in the beer or the weed.

"Nice to meet you Y/N". Bishop took your hand in his and brought it to his lips and kissed the top of your hand.

"Like wise". You chewed on your bottom lip as he licked his lips after he kissed your hand.

"Are you having fun so far? Everyone being polite"? He sat back in his seat.

"Everyone is great. I'm really enjoying myself. Maybe a little to much". You made Gilly, Hank and Bishop laugh.

"Well I hope you do come back.  We always love to have beautiful women like you hanging around. It makes people think we're not so scummy".

"People think that? I dont see why. You all been so nice and I feel right at home".

"Well thank you". He spoke when the door opened and in came three other men laughing.

"Those loud mouths are Angel, Coco and Ez". Bishop pointed out.

"Ez"? You laughed.

"Yeah, its Ezekiel. He's not to easy with the ladies so he doesnt live up to his name". Bishop told you, in the back Gilly and Hank were laughing.

"Alrighty".

"You want to meet them"?

"Sure". Gilly took your hand and pulled you through the bodies in the room.

"Listen up fuckers, this here is Y/N from Ireland". Hank said so smoothly and sultry. Which made you roll your eyes with a chuckle.

"I'm Coco". The short haired one said as he lit a cigarette.

"Angel and this is my little brother Ezekiel". Angel ruffled what little hair Ez had.

"Ez".

"Not from what I heard". Ez stopped and eyed you making everyone around bust out laughing.

"You have to come sit be me. I like you". Angel scooted down for you to sit in between him and Ez. Ez moved down away from you as he pouted.

"So how long you been in California"?

"A few months. I work for a company that plans events".

"What kind of events"?

"Well all kinds. Like last week I did a bachelorettes party. I had cocks everywhere". You say making Coco get choked on his cigarette, Angel get choked on his beer, Hank and Gillys mouth dropped.

"What"? You asked as they all looked at you.

"Nothing. Just a girl like you buying dicks and stuff like that is kind of a shocker". Ez spoke up.

"Well unlike you I'm in to having some fun. My name isn't Ez but for the right guy I'm not afraid to get a little dirty". You smirked. Angel licked his lips.

After your little slutty side came out and was over with you and the guys drank and talked. Getting to know each other. Angel took a liking to you really well. He didnt seem like a big bad biker like people warned you.

"Hey Angel"?

"Yeah"?

"Can you get me another drink and I'll roll you another blunt"?

"You got it, babe". He squeezed your thigh before he got up.  You stood up and pulled Hanks hoodie off as you were getting hot. Angel turned around just in time to see you in your dress. His mouth started to water.

You sighed and sat back down and started on Angel's blunt. For some reason he liked how you did it. Probably the way you licked it.  As you finished it up another man came into the club house and went straight to Bishop. He didnt look like a biker, he was dressed in a suit and tie. Tight braids and extremely handsome.

Angel watched at the bar as you saw Nestor come in. He didnt like the way you looked at him. Nestor made the mistake of stopping and gazing at you. Then he made a bigger mistake by coming over to you. Angel balled up his fist.

The man with the braids walked over to you and you gulped as he came closer.

"Nestor". He smirked licking his lips with a click of his tongue.

"Y/N". You blushed under his gaze.

You knew this was going to be trouble but you couldn't help it. A part of you wanted him and another part of you wanted to say get lost for Angel who in the corner of your eye was already planning Nestors gruesome death.

[imherongraystairstrash]

Sophideon Wedding

A/N: Thank you to the Anon that suggested this and for their kind words! I’m sorry for the delay. School and Physics are killing me at the moment but I hope you enjoy! (Anna and Christopher are next!!)

Sophie had never thought she would marry. She had definitely dreamed of it ever since she was young, but ever since she begun working in the institute, it was but a wild dream, distant and unobtainable. And yet, here she was, sitting on a chair, looking at her reflection while Tessa styled her hair into an intricate braid.

“Oh, Tessa, I’m having trouble believing this is really happening.”

“Would you like me to pinch you?” Tessa joked

“Perhaps.” Sophie said. “Tessa?”

“Hmm?”

“What if we fall out of love?”

What if he falls out of love? Sophie wanted to ask.

“Sophie, you cannot worry about such silly things. You and Gideon love each other too much to ever fall out of love”

“Yes, yes. You’re right Tessa. Of course you are. I’m just stressing over nothing.”

“Nothing indeed.”

For a moment, all that could be heard was the sound of the hairbrush running through Sophie’s hair. Tessa sighed.

“What is it, Sophie?”

“Tessa, what if it’s not like I imagined it?”

“What? Marriage?” Tessa said, “It probably won’t be.”

“It won’t?” Sophie asked, her eyebrows traveling up her forehead. That was not the answer she was expecting at all.

“No. It will be so much better.” Tessa said, and squeezed Sophie in a sisterly brace.

“Now enough of all of this fretting, it causes you to age quicker.”

“Then I must look like I’m a thousand year of age.” Charlotte said, coming into the room with Cecily. “I apologize for not being able to help prepare the bride earlier.” she bent down and planted a kiss on Sophie’s cheek. “Charles would not stop fussing.”

“How did you get him to stop?” asked Tessa.

“Oh, I didn’t. I just handed him over to Will.”

In spite of her nervousness, Sophie could not help but laugh along with everyone else. Her problems didn’t seem so bad once she imagined what Will must be dealing with.

The rest of the morning was a blur. While Tessa finished Sophie’s hair, Cecily got a bottle of champagne and they toasted to Sophie’s ‘final hours of freedom’. They had spent hours helping put on Sophie’s wedding dress, which was impossible to figure out. By the time she was ready, Cecily had made them all laugh so hard with tales of her childhood with Will and Ella, that her cheeks hurt. Sophie was gasping for air, when all of a sudden Charlotte said:

“Oh, Sophie. You look so beautiful!”

“Tell Gideon to watch out because I might just steal his bride.” Cecily joked.

Tessa choked on her champagne, fanning herself with her hand as she laughed. Sophie smiled and turned around, so that she was facing the full length mirror. She sucked in air and she ran her fingers over the gold dress. All of a sudden, it felt real. She is getting married. And to the most incredible man she could ever dream of. At the thought of Gideon, it felt like there was a cord around her heart and it was being pulled taunt. She was dreading having to walk down the aisle, in front of all of those Shadowhunters. She knows what they think of her. The whispers that say it’s a shame a fine man like Gideon is marrying a scar-faced mundane like Sophie. Although she knew she should excited for the ceremony, all she really wanted to do was sleep in his arms. She wanted him to love her and for his face be the first thing she sees in the morning. She felt a blush creep up her face.

She turned around and faced her friends.

“So, am I ready?”

“Hell, no.” Cecily said as Tessa nodded solemnly and they got back to work.

...

Nooooooo no no no no no no no, no. Gideon thought as he looked around the room. Will, Gabriel and Charles were seated on the floor, staring at him while he ran around the room, looking for his shoes.

“They’re not here!”

“Calm down, Gideon. They didn’t sprout feet and just walk away.” Gabriel said.

“They wouldn’t need to.” Will said, wincing as Charles pulled a fistful of his unruly black hair. “Shoes are like foot-gloves, they would just bounce away.”

Even Charles looked confused.

“What I meant to say, was that they are not capable of going anywhere without assistance.” said Gabriel

“It doesn’t matter whether they walked away or not, all that matters is that I don’t have shoes.”

Gideon was growing restless, which was strangely out of character, since he always carried a calm demeanor. He took a breath and let it out.

“Will,” he said, “could you get one of the ladies?”

“Okay.” Will said quickly, his face scrunched up as Charles continued to pull his hair. He had finally managed to pry Charles’ hands away from his hair and turned to Gabriel, as though to hand Charles over to him. Gabriel put his hands up.

“I’m not taking that hair-yanking demon.”

Will grunted, saying something about Lightworms being ruthless before shutting the door. Gideon sat down and immediately got back on his feet and opening the door.

“Will!” he yelled.

Will turned around.

“Don’t get Sophie.”

“What?”

“When I said ‘get one of the ladies’, I meant any of them that other than Sophie. Don’t get Sophie.”

“I wasn’t planning to! Do you really think me that stupid?”

“Yes!” Gabriel called from the room.

“Shut up, Lightworm!” Will turned back to Gideon. “I’ll get Tessa or Cecily.”

“Alright.” Gideon let himself breathe.

He was going back into the room when he heard Will curse in Welsh. Over his shoulder, he saw that Charles had, once again wrapped his hand around one of Will’s curls and was yanking it hard.

...

Tessa was sitting down for the first time in what felt like ages. Her sister-in-law Cecily was hunched over Sophie, adding the final touches, when Will came in through the door. Charles had Will’s soft curls wrapped around his fist and was pulling, rather harshly, causing Will’s cheeks to turn an adorable shade of pink.

“Charlotte, your brat seems very keen on making me bald before I reach the age of twenty.” He said through clenched teeth.

“Give him here,” Charlotte said.

Will handed him over with obvious relief. Then he looked around the room, as though seeing it for the first time.

“Sophie, you look wonderful.” He said.

“Thank you, Will. Though, sadly, I cannot say the same for you.” Sophie said, looking at his hair which, thanks to Charles, was sticking out in every which way.

Will and Sophie’s friendship grew for the better after Will discovered he was not cursed anymore. There used to be a time in which Sophie couldn’t stand Will. Now they act as siblings, joking around and laughing over memories. It was strange to think that out of all of the five children Charlotte and Henry practically raised (Jem, Jessamine, Will, Sophie and Thomas) only two remained present. The thought was Jem sent a pang through Tessa’s heart.

Will laughed, locked eyes with Tessa and walked over to her. The other girls were back to gossiping when Will sat down next to her.  

“Tess, could I talk with you?” He said so that only she could hear.

“Of course. What’s the matter?” She said, as she massaged Will’s head, where Charles had yanked.

He looked at the other girls and signaled her to lean closer. His breath tickled her ear as he whispered in her ear.

“Gideon has lost his shoes.”

Tessa’s eyes widened.

...

When Tessa came into the room, Gideon felt as though cold water was dropped on the back of his neck, after a very hot day. She immediately knew what to do. She forced Will to take off his shoes “You won’t need them during the ceremony” she had said. Thankfully, Will’s feet were only a little bit bigger than Gideon’s shoe size, which they fixed by putting fabric in the empty areas.

“So, am I going to be in my socks the entire time or—?”

“Just ask Henry for his, I don’t think he’ll mind. Come to think of it, he probably wouldn’t notice either.” said Gabriel.  

“What?” Henry asked, looking up. When Will came back with Tessa and saw that Henry was there, he practically threw Charles into his arms.  

“Could Will borrow your shoes for the wedding?”

“Of course! It’s not like I’ll need them.” Henry replied, smiling down at his legs.

“Thank you, Henry, but I’m not sure they will fit like a glove.” said Will eyeing Henry’s shoes.

“Why would they fit like a gloves? They’re shoes.” Henry said.

Before anyone could respond, Cecily Herondale burst into the room. She locked eyes with Gideon before speaking.

“I need you to come with me. It’s about Sophie.”

Gideon stiffened. Everybody in the room stood up, ready to help Sophie. Well, except Henry for course, but he did straighten up, which was his equivalent to standing up.

“Just Gideon.”

“Is she hurt?” Tessa asked, clearly worried.

“No, she’ll be okay.” She said as she steered Gideon to where Sophie was.

Sophie didn’t remember ever feeling this way before. It was as though, all of a sudden, she couldn’t breathe. Her hands were sweating and numb. She was trembling like a small dog. She felt cold all over. It was a though someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over her body. By the angel, she can’t breathe. Charlotte had a hand on her shoulder and was telling her to remain calm. She was standing up when the feeling had come, though she was now on the floor, leaving against the wall closest to the door. Her panic had subsided when she heard a knock at the door.

“Sophie?”

Sophie wanted to cry. She wanted to shrivel up and disappear. She wanted her face to not be scared, she didn’t want to walk down the aisle. Not because she didn’t want to marry Gideon, because she had never loved anyone as much as she loved him, but because she didn’t want to hear the whispers.

“Sophie, can I come in?”

“No!” She said, though it came out sounding something in between a gasp and a whisper, “It’s bad luck!”

“Sophie, I don’t care if it’s bad luck. If you need help, I will do so to the best of my ability.”

Sophie was about to argue that Charlotte and Cecily were here, only to find they were, in fact, gone, probably to give her and Gideon some space.

“It’s alright, Gideon. I’m fine now. It was nothing to worry about.”

“Soph, I’ll close my eyes, just please let me in.”

Sophie closed her eyes and nodded when she remembered that he couldn’t see her.

“Okay.”

Gideon opened the door and, sure enough, he had managed to blindfold himself with what she was sure was his cravat. He felt around the wall and Sophie couldn’t help but smile at how silly and adorable he looked.

“A little bit more to the left.” she said, helping him.

Gideon sat down beside her. She put her head on his shoulder, and he held her with both of his arms. She breathed in his lovely scent as he pressed a kiss on her head.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“It’s silly.”

“No. You do not worry about silly things, Sophie.” he paused, “Is it b— do you not wish to marry me?”

Sophie pushed away.

“No. No, Gideon of course I want to marry you. You are all I could ever dream of marrying.” Sophie’s eyes were stinging. Did Gideon truly think she did not return his feelings?

Sophie swore she felt Gideon relax beside her. He turned to her, even though he couldn’t see.

“Then what is the matter, love?”

Sophie swallowed. How could she tell Gideon about the things she hears? The whispers behind her back. The ones that say Gideon is throwing away his life. That he is further disgracing his family name by marrying a mundane, despite the fact that Sophie is an ascended shadowhunter. She couldn’t burden him with that. She looked over at Gideon, who was patiently waiting.

“Are you sure you want to marry me?”

“I have never been more sure of any decision in my life.”

“My face is ruined.”

Gideon turned her face and ran his fingers over it, until finding her scar. He kissed her left temple, the place where her horrible scar ended. He kissed a line all the way down to the other end of her scar. He kissed the corner where the scar and her mouth met, and then hovered other her lips. He gently nudged her nose with his own, as though he were asking for her permission. She leaned in and their lips met. Gideon kissed her softly, as he always did. Sophie held her hand to his face and stroked his cheek with her thumb.

“Your face is beautiful.”

“I just want you to be happy, Gideon.”

“But Sophie, I could never be happy without you.”

Sophie looked at Gideon. She wanted to see his entire face and his beautiful eyes, not some stupid cravat across his face. She held her faces up to his face and lifted the silly blindfold from his face. Gideon looked at her in surprise.

“I love you, Gideon Lightwood.”

“I love you, Sophie Collins.” He kissed her forehead.

Sophie smiled. “That’s not my last name anymore.”

“Yes, but I met and fell in love with you when you were still Sophie Collins. It was the name a whispered before I went to sleep, and for that reason I could never think of you as anything else. Besides, Sophie Ashdown does not have the same ring to it.”

“What about Sophie Lightwood?”

Gideon smiled and kissed her. “I like the way that sounds.”

“Me too.”

They sat there for a while, Sophie in Gideon’s arms, occasionally stealing small kisses. Then, all of a sudden, Gideon sat up straight, and put his hand over his eyes.

“Sophie, you didn’t want me to see you before the wedding! It’s supposed to be bad luck!”

“It’s alright, I think our love can survive a little bad luck.”

Gideon smiled, but proceeded to cover his eyes with the blind fold again. “Nonetheless, I shall leave you to finish up here. Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

“Are you are sure?”

“Yes!”

“Okay then.” He kissed her one more time, and felt his way out the door.

Sophie smiled. One day, she will tell Gideon of the whispers. Or maybe he will hear them for himself. But this was their wedding, and it was going to mark the start of the most wonderful life she could ever imagine. One that she would discover hand-in-hand with Gideon Lightwood.

[bastillewolf]

Emeralds & Sapphires (I)

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield/Reader

Summary: When the King Under The Mountain is deemed ill once more by the Grey Wizard himself, he falls under the care of a strange woman, who claims to be a healer. But even she couldn’t comprehend the severity of the situation, or everything that would follow.

Notes: I’ve always had a big crush on Thorin, yet never had the guts to write about him, as Middle Earth is a very intimidating universe that I do not know enough about. I apologize for any mistakes, and must warn you that updates are not weekly, as I have two major fics I still need to finish first. This one’s just for fun.

I promise the next chapter will be much longer, by the way. Oh, and fuck BOFTA. No one’s died.

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

Chapter I - Calentiris

“And who might you be?”

The dwarf before her held a defensive stance, his spear tilting dangerously close to her neck. Naturally, however, she remained calm, as it was not like her to feel outraged by such primitive behaviour. She was above that, having seen more unnecessary violence in her lifetime than these mere mortal folk ever would. They didn’t know any better.

“I do believe that’s none of your concern,” she replied sternly, “However, as time is of the essence, I request an immediate audience with Gandalf. Tell him the Green Wizard sent you.”

The dwarf’s eyebrows nearly hit the edge of his hairline with the incredulous look he gave her.

“You shall do as I ask, master dwarf, or something worse shall befall you other than a rude introduction.” Her irises grew dark, her voice heavy, and the spark of electricity running through the sky seemed to be what did the trick to get the guard to listen.

Not long after, a familiar figure clad entirely in grey appeared in the grand doorway of Erebor. He opened his arms towards her in greeting. “Calentiris, how good of you to come.” He was slightly out of breath, and if she hadn’t known him all her life, she would’ve probably been fooled by his old man act and offered him assistance. But since this was not the case, and she was clearly not sympathetic over his antics, he took notice and got straight to the point. “We need to speak in private.”

As she followed him through endless hallways and stairwells, she couldn’t help but voice her thoughts. “I thought you would be done with these dwarves by now, Gandalf. Weren’t you only supposed to be a guide to help them get their home back?”

“Yes, and I did. But I made a promise; that I would get them home safe.” He turned to her and looked her straight in the eyes, something dark and worrying looming on the tip of his tongue. “The king is ill. And I do not think it would be wise to leave him here without proper aid. I’m not only doing this out of the goodness of my heart, Calentiris. I’m trying to prevent a war from happening between the same people who once stood united against the orcs of Moria.”

He continued their journey, with her following closely behind. “Saruman will not be pleased about this, Gandalf.”

“Saruman doesn’t need to know, as far as I’m concerned,” he grumbled in response, not even bothering to look back at her. She smirked.

 ***

“Who is that?” a dwarf spat, only moments after the doors had been closed behind them. Gandalf had led her into what appeared to be a conference room, with only three chairs filled, and the king’s seat empty.

On the left of the intricately large piece of royal furniture, sat a dwarf with hair as white as freshly fallen snow, and beard almost reaching his middle. Next to him, was the grump who had asked the question, and he seemed fitting for the part. His head was almost entirely bald, but covered by intricate tattoos in a language she’d only seen fragments of before. Khuzdul, she recognized. Two axes were slung across his back, and she was sure those weren’t just there to intimidate.

She met a pair of hazel eyes sitting across from the brutish man. His golden hair was intricately braided, bearing many beads and different patterns. She sensed that he was apprehensive, but perhaps also the one who was least concerned by her appearance.

“This, master Dwalin, is the acquaintance I spoke to you about. She might be able to help us on this matter, so you’d be wise to behave properly. She is a lady, after all.”

Both Dwalin and the Green Wizard rolled their eyes, as Gandalf merely grinned with satisfaction.

They stepped towards the table, and introductions were made quickly.

“Balin, at your service.”

“Fíli, at your service.”

Dwalin… At your service.”

She nodded to each of them, raising a brow at the golden-haired dwarf who seemed to look at her with so much underlying desperation she almost felt the need to take a step back. But knowing who he was, and the state of worry he must be in for his uncle, she understood.

“At yours. I am Calentiris, also known among many as the Green Wizard.”

“Calentiris?” Dwalin scoffed, “You best go under a different alias around here, lass, for most of our folk won’t utter a word of Elvish.”

“I appreciate your concern, master Dwalin, though I dare assume that the only folk I’ll be speaking to are the decent kind, as I take this is an urgent matter only your closest will be familiar with.”

The dwarf’s eyes narrowed at the underlying insult. “If you’re saying what I think you’re saying-“

“You’d be right, mistress,” his brother interrupted quickly, before any more damage was done, “As our folk are most certainly the decent kind, only guarded towards strangers. You must understand.”

She gave a nod in response. She couldn’t blame the people of the mountain for their grudge against the elves, not whilst their history books clearly stated that they never forgave, and never forgot. However, for them to show any form ill intent towards those who might be acquainted with elves was a bit dramatic, even for her standards. It would rule out a lot of humans, hobbits and other kin alike.

“I’m afraid must cut our small talk short,” Gandalf gave her the side-eye, “As more important matters await. I do apologize for the curt message, Calentiris, but things have turned for the worse the past few days. It couldn’t wait.”

“What’s happened?”

Fíli stepped forward with a grave sense of severity.

“Thorin struck my brother.”

And the room fell deathly quiet.

[is0gild]

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 22

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 9,146

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

“Alright, Elsa, you can do this! You're going to get up on that stage and you're going to wow them!"

So all that stuff about me not trying out? Total bald-faced lie. Kudos to any of you who saw right through it. Since, you know… I'm so good at the whole deception thing.

"...alright fine, maybe not wow them, per se… but you can do okay at least, right?"

This was all just for fun, after all. It's not like it was anything important, it's not like it really mattered. It was nothing, just a silly childhood dream. Just one moment, one blip in time that would be over before I knew it. No big deal.

"...passable? Surely, you can at least give me passable!"

Now if only I could convince my reflection of that.

Which, judging by the flat look she was giving me from the mirror on my vanity, was not going too hot.

"Ugh!" I huffed, tossing up my hands and turning away to pace my bedroom floor. "Just try not to fall flat on your face and I'll be happy. Can you just do that much for me? Please?" I snapped, facing my reflection once more.

She scrunched up her nose and gave me a noncommittal shrug.

My shoulders slumped and I hung my head, bracing my hands atop the vanity table. "Look, you've been practicing nonstop since yesterday. And yes, I know what basically amounts to cramming sing-alongs for almost twenty-four hours straight isn't going to make up for the lack of any sort of professional training. Or the absence of any real experience. Or the fact that besides karaoke that one night, you pretty much haven't sung in almost a decade except for maybe a personal concert in the shower once in the blue moon. I know you're going into this blind and have no idea what you're doing and others there will be way better prepared than you and-" I frowned, narrowing my eyes, "...and I had a point. Fudge, what was it again?"

My reflection looked remarkably unmoved by my rallying little speech just now.

"Ah!" I snapped my fingers, face brightening before jabbing my index up against the mirror. "The point was that none of that matters! What matters is you've done the best you could do in the time you had! So worrying about it any further is nothing more than a useless waste of time and energy! So just go on out there, have a good time and… and give it your all!" My hands closed into fists and they made weak, halfhearted thrusts into the air over my head as I gave a tiny, "Woo!"

She just drooped her eyelids at me.

I plopped down hard into my chair with a small growl. "I know I suck at pep talks. Yeesh, you don't have to be so negative!"

I don't know why I even bothered. Reflection Me was always such a downer.

Sighing, I propped my chin in my palm while I brought my other hand up to fiddle with the flower poking out of a miniature vase sitting on my vanity. It was the winter honeysuckle Lea had given me, dried out now because I'd wanted it to last. I toyed with its delicate petals, my fingers gentle so as not to break them. Somehow merely touching it seemed to sooth my frayed nerves and lighten my spirits, even if only just a little bit.

My phone buzzed and I checked it to see that it was a text from Lea telling me he'd arrived and was on his way up. I exhaled slowly. Okay, I couldn't procrastinate any longer. It was now or never. I stood up and made my way over to my bed, on top of which laid the sheet music I'd managed to hunt down after some internet searching. Gathering it up with care so as not to wrinkle any of the pages, I then headed towards my bedroom door.

"Who's a pretty, pretty princess? Daddy is! Isn't that right, jelly-belly-welly-bean?"

The dulcet tone of Rayne cooing down at her own tummy was the first sound to greet me when I walked out into the living room. I blinked, taking in the scene before me as Rayne returned her attention to the, er… "pretty, pretty princess." That is to say, her husband, whose lips were set into a grim line while his left eye gave a little tick. She had him seated in one of the kitchen chairs as she stood behind him, putting the finishing touches on the long braid she'd fashioned his hair into. It was complete with teeny butterfly barrettes, a colorful assortment of flowers weaved throughout, and a giant, frilly bow at the end holding it all together.

More practice for styling her future daughter's hair.

I'd know, since normally I'd be the one sitting in that chair instead of Riku.

Thankfully, it was now his turn to suffer hair bedazzling hell.

"Not one word, Fryse," he grumbled. "Not a single, solitary word."

I held the sheet music up to my mouth, concealing a tiny grin behind it. Then carefully schooling my features, I told him, "I was only going to comment on how masculine and rugged you look this evening."

"Damn straight," he harrumphed, crossing his arms and slouching further into his seat.

"I have the bestest, sweetest, manliest hubby in the whole wide world," Rayne declared happily, pulling his head back so she could plant an upside down smooch to his lips. This seemed to mollify him somewhat. Giggling, she then glanced my way. "You all ready for your big debut, pumpkin?"

Rubbing one elbow, I shrugged, "...as ready as I'm going to be, I suppose."

Her lips twisted sourly as she clipped another glitzy butterfly into his hair. "Still wish I was able to go and give you moral support."

"No no, it's fine," I said hastily with a shake of my head and a small, reassuring smile. "Lea's driving me so it's not like I'm stranded in need of a ride or anything. Plus you have your baby appointment to get to and I wouldn't want to make you reschedule for some silly little thing like this. Really, just don't worry about it."

"Besides," Riku tacked on, "friends and family of those trying out aren't usually allowed in to watch the auditions anyway."

Rayne's cheeks gave a little puff of annoyance. "I'd like to see them try and stop me if I showed up."

There was a knock at the door just then. Knowing it was Lea, I moved to open it and found him standing there, one shoulder propped against the doorframe. He grinned down at me, "Hey, El! Ready to go? I-" he stopped as he looked past me, blinking a couple times. Then the curl to his lips grew a touch evil, "Yo, Raindrop, who's your new gal pal? She's hella cute!"

"Cram it before I curb stomp your ass," Riku ground out through his teeth.

"Threaten me with a good time, mamacita," he purred back at him, waggling his eyebrows.

Riku sneered with a tch, grumbling under this breath, "Better pray we don't meet in a dark alley, clown, because I will crush you."

"Oof, I usually like a girl to ask me to dinner first, but I might be willing to make an exception just this once if ya keep sweet talking me like that, gorgeous," Lea winked. As Riku shot up to his feet with a black look, I ran out the door and grabbed Lea's arm. "Oops, looks like duty calls. We'll hafta continue this later, hot stuff. Call me!" he blew Riku a kiss with a snigger as I dragged him away, slamming the door shut behind me.

I started jogging down the steps, listening to Lea's footfall as he followed close behind. Shaking my head with a soft scoff, I said, "Can't believe Mr Guyliner here is making fun of a dude with flowers in his hair."

"Was only doing it cuz I knew how butthurt he'd get over it," he snerked as he appeared at my side. "Now me personally? Don't have a problem with it. I'd rock a thousand posies in my majestic mane and look damn fine doing it too."

I glanced over at him, one corner of my lips tugging up. "I might have to hold you to that."

He flung himself onto the handrail and slid down past me in a blur. Converse hitting the landing below, Lea spun around to block my way just as I caught up to him, smirking as he brought himself nose-to-nose with me. "Only if you're the one weaving all them pretty lil blossoms into my hair."

My heart spasmed.

Down, girl.

After all, it was only the empty teasing he always did.

I turned my head a little, shooting him some side-eye. "...do I get to choose the flowers?"

"I don't see why not."

"Good." I ducked under his arm to slip past him and make my way towards the next flight of stairs, "Leadwort it is then."

"Well now, that sounds ominous." I could hear the frown in his voice. "Should I be worried?"

I shot him a sly grin over my shoulder. "Depends. Very pretty. Very, very itchy. Hope you're ready to suffer for fashion."

"For you?" he beamed, hopping down the steps two at a time now to gain on me once more. "Totally worth it."

I merely rolled my eyes, electing not to dignify his comment with a response.

Soon enough we'd climbed into his car and were hitting the road. Sunset Hill Auditorium wasn't really all that far, but still a bit further than I'd rather walk. Thankfully Lea had been free and only too happy to give me a lift over, seeing as how Riku and Rayne had a prior commitment on the other end of town. Speaking of, they'd probably left immediately right after us and I idly wondered if Riku was planning on showing up at the doctor's with his hairdo still all fab like that. The image brought a little smile to my face.

It quickly faded however as I stared down at the sheet music sitting in my lap. My fingers twisted at my braid as I took in a shaky breath and blew it out slowly. Now that I'd fallen quiet, I could feel that nervous energy creeping its way back into my chest. It was actually kind of sort of a good nervous. I was a bit loathe to admit it, but a small part of me was looking forward to this.

That said, it didn't mean I wasn't also absolutely friggin' terrified.

I was actually a little relieved that friends and family weren't normally allowed into the auditions. The offer of moral support was appreciated, but ultimately I think I would have been more anxious if Riku and Rayne had been able to come and watch. Anna too, for that matter. I know my sister would have dropped everything to be here in a heartbeat, which is why I hadn't even mentioned anything about this to her. Making a fool of myself in front of strangers? Mortifying, but I'd survive - at least if I royally screwed up, I'd never have to see any of them again and could just pretend the whole big mess had never happened. Not so if people I actually cared about were there to witness me flop hard. And it wouldn't matter how kind and supportive they would have been after any sort of epic failure on my part... in fact, that might have only made me feel even worse.

Still, them not coming was only a minor comfort lost in the sea of dread filling up inside me now. My stomach burned with queasiness and my lungs felt like they were shrinking, making it harder and harder to breathe.

"Hmm," Lea's low hum broke me out of my thoughts. I glanced over at him as he pursed his lips to one side before shaking his head, "Mm-mm, nope. Too tangy. You need to be spoiled rotten with the sugary sweetness."

Feeling that cold anxiety loosen its grip and recede somewhat, I furrowed my brow for a few seconds before it clicked. "Ah. You've ruled out another ice cream flavor for me."

"Yup!" he chirped, switching his car over into the next lane.

"So which one got the boot this time?"

"Ever After."

"Huh," I fixed my eyes on the road straight ahead, squinting slightly. "Didn't you rule out a different flavor previously for being too sweet?"

One of his hands came to rest on the shoulder of my car seat. "Well yeah, but having a sweet tooth is one thing, while suicide by pure, massive sugary overdose is something else altogether. I think you know where to draw the line."

I tipped my head to one side. "Interesting."

"Interesting?" he echoed, quirking an eyebrow as he checked his side view mirror. "...am I wrong?"

"Didn't say that," I muttered, my fingers absently fiddling with the corners of the sheet music. "Just said it was interesting."

He frowned. "Crap. That's gonna bug me now."

I flashed him a half-grin. "I know."

"Cruel, cruel woman."

I just crinkled my nose at him smugly.

I knew he was trying to take my mind off the audition. And the distraction was welcome, but unfortunately brief. I could already feel that frown resurfacing, that apprehensive chill knotting tightening in my stomach once more.

Lea shifted his head slightly towards me, watching me out of his peripheral with a small downward tug at the corner of his lips. "...ya know you got absolutely nothing to worry about, right?" he asked softly. My eyes flicked over to him for a second before staring back down at my lap again. He elaborated, "It's community theater."

My eyebrows knit together. "...so?"

"So that means ya got no one to impress. Nothing to prove. No one's gonna be expecting a Julliard education from you or for you to have a few Broadway shows under your belt. This is all just for kicks. An absolutely zero pressure environment. Just a buncha goofballs who like acting and singing and dancing around in wacky costumes and so have found others who share their same brand o' crazy so they can all geek out together doing what they love in their free time. Doesn't matter to any of 'em how good or bad ya might be. They're not there to judge, they just wanna have a good time." He lightly tapped his knuckles to my shoulder, "So loosen up, will ya? You're gonna have a blast and knock 'em dead."

The knots loosened a little and a small grin found its way onto my face despite myself. "Thanks, Lea."

Surprisingly, his words helped.

For a grand total of two minutes.

Which just so happened to be right about when we were parking in front of the auditorium. Imagine that.

"Break a leg! I'll just chill in the car and you can meet me back here when you're done," Lea told me as he rolled down his window and fished his phone out of his pocket.

I barely heard him over the sound of blood rushing in my ears. Swallowing hard and finding my throat too tight for words, I simply gave a stiff nod before climbing out of the car. Hugging the sheet music to my chest, I stepped over the curb and up onto the sidewalk before pausing to stare at the auditorium's double doors, opened wide to invite people in. My bottom lip tucked in and I made a quick glance back towards Lea who grinned and gave me a thumbs up through his window. Then I looked at that doorway once more.

My eyes hardened. My hands gripped the papers more firmly. My chest puffed up and my spine snapped straight.

Let's do this.

I determinedly marched right up to the bottom of the stairs leading up to the entrance.

Then I spun one-eighty and determinedly marched straight back the way I'd come from.

Lea looked up from his phone, both eyebrows shooting up his forehead. "El? Did you forget-"

Whipping back around, I drew in a deep breath before releasing it.

Alright, let's try that again.

I stomped towards the building once more.

This time I actually made it onto the first cement step before retreating.

Expression blank, Lea said nothing as he watched me do this again (making it as far as the second step up) and yet again (third step). By my next attempt, he'd gotten out and was leaning back against his closed car door, arms folded beneath his chest, ankles crossed. Drat, only the third step again. As I returned and came to a stop in front of him, my eyes narrowed and I released a huff through my nose. He just gave me a small shrug, as if to ask what exactly I expected him to do. I whirled on my heel once more, stormed back towards the auditorium and… fudge! Third step again! Now I was just in a friggin' rut!

Beyond frustrated with myself, I walked up beside Lea this time, folded my arms atop the roof of his car, pillowed my face into them and let out a muffled yell. Then I flipped around, bracing my back against the vehicle and scowled up at the sky.

A pause.

Then Lea piped up, "Ya know you actually have to go inside the place in order to audition… right?"

I whacked him upside the head with my sheet music.

"...take that as a yes."

My shoulders sagged and I hid my face behind the papers in my hands, mumbling, "I can't do this. I'm too much of a scaredy-cat."

There was a snort from him. "You kidding? You're one of the bravest people I know."

I scoffed into the printouts, "Stop patronizing me. I don't appreciate it."

"I'm serious." I felt his hands on mine, gently pulling both them and the sheet music down so I could see him standing in front of me now, hunched down to my eye level. "Do you know what the definition of being brave is?"

"Not Elsa, that's for sure," I muttered, looking away.

"Shush," he flicked my forehead. Rude. "Being brave is not a complete and total absence of fear. No, being brave is taking action despite your fear. Remember your wedding day?"

I fixed him with a dull stare. "How could I forget? I ran away. Like a coward."

"No, a coward woulda done nothing. A coward woulda just done as she was told cuz she would be too chicken to make any waves. A coward woulda stayed, gone through with the wedding and led a miserable life she didn't want just to please her folks. Just because it was the safest, easiest route. But you didn't do that."

"No, instead I oh so bravely ran away like a warrior," I corrected my previous statement with a roll of my eyes.

He nodded, "Exactly! You were frightened, had no idea what you were gonna do, didn't have the foggiest of where to go or who to turn to, and yet you still did it. Took that leap and did the whole independent thing and guess what? You've been thriving!" His hands still cradling mine, I felt his thumbs start to trace soothing circles along my knuckles. "And sure, everything's been new and scary… finding a job, meeting new people, not caving to your family's demands… but no matter how afraid you may have got, you never hid from any of it. You've been facing your fears and meeting each new challenge head on. Now I'd call that pretty damn brave."

Wow, his pep talk game was way, way better than mine.

That said, I still eyed him dubiously. "Really?"

"Hell yeah! Shit, if I had to carry around as much fear inside of me as you do, I dunno if I'd be strong enough to do half the things you've done! You're a goddamn hero, babydoll!" he smiled big. "Now, I know this is something ya really want."

My face heated and I averted my gaze. "...how can you tell?"

"Trust me, I can read you pretty well by now," his fingers tweaked my nose. "So listen up: if you can do all that other stuff that terrified you before, if you can just grab hold and take charge of your life the way you have so far, then this one teensy-weensy audition should be a total piece of cake!"

"You really think so?" I frowned uncertainly at him.

"I know so!" he declared with a laugh. "So whaddya say? Think you're ready to do this?"

Though my chest was still tight with anxiety, I could feel that tiny glow of excitement and longing deep, deep down sparking back to life. I slowly smiled and gave a hesitant nod, "...yes, I believe so."

"Then what're you standing round here for? Go on, scoot!"

I didn't budge an inch. After a few seconds, I hung my head. "My feet won't move."

Lea blinked, then chuckled softly. "Do you need me to give ya a tow?"

I grimaced, "Maybe."

"Alright, I can help you inside, but that's as far as I'll be able to take ya. It'll be up to you to get yourself on that stage."

"Just get me through that door," I agreed quietly.

Linking his hand in mine, he turned and led the way towards the auditorium. I stumbled into a walk behind him, drawing what little strength I could from his warm, steady grip. With his help, I finally made it all the way up those daunting stairs and through that foreboding doorway.

Only to be stopped almost immediately once we stepped inside by someone standing in our way.

That someone being a tall, familiar, skinny guy with a spooky yet snappy suit.

"Elsa!" Jack flashed me what I was beginning to suspect was his signature ear-to-ear grin. "You don't know how thrilled I am to see that you could make it! Here to try out or just observe?"

"...try out?" I said, voice small. Yes, it came out just like that. Like it was a question. Like there was a right or wrong answer and I was just guessing, hoping for the best.

"Splendid, Splendid! Glad to hear it! I'll get you added to the director's list and your name will be called when it's your time to shine. For now, you can just take a seat and watch the others. Lea," he turned his gaze on him now, "good to see you too, but you know the rules. Unless you're here to audition, you're going to have to wait outside."

I unconsciously sidled closer to Lea, squeezing his hand.

Huh. Guess I actually wanted him to stick around and watch me make a fool out of myself. Shocked? I know I was.

Maybe it was because he thought I was brave. Maybe if he stayed, I could trick myself into thinking I was brave too.

Lea snuck a glance my way. Eyes crinkling, he squeezed my hand back before returning his attention to Jack with a sheepish grin and ruffled his fingers through his crimson spikes, "Aw c'mon, man, this is her first time! Could ya maybe be a pal, do me a solid and bend the rules a lil just this once?"

Jack crossed his arms, squinting at him with a flat look. Then he sighed and stepped to one side, his smile back and bigger than ever, "Alright, just this one time though! And you better be on your best behavior, bucko!"

"I will! Scout's honor!" he held up three fingers pressed together and beamed. "Thanks, man! Let's go, El." And with that, Lea was pulling me further inside.

The auditorium was larger on the inside than I expected, with rows upon rows of theater seating stretching out before us. While those seats were far from full, there were still more people here than I'd expected there would be, making me gulp. Auditions were already under way it seemed as I watched a familiar guy I recalled seeing in the food court previously - Joshua, I believe? - dip into a flamboyant bow before jumping down off the stage. Remaining up there was an old, clunky piano on wheels with Mullet Boy from the Blue Sitar seated at it.

"Setzer, you're up," came a call from someone sitting in the middle of the third row, presumably the director. All I could tell about him from the back of his head was that he had choppy, shoulder-length pink hair. Slumping lazily into the seat next to him with feet kicked up onto the chair in front of her was that blonde chick from Cinema XIII - I'd recognize that weird hairdo anywhere.

"Ah, looks like Marluxia The Douche-ah is running the show this time round," Lea whispered into my ear with a nod towards Mr Rosy-Locks as we walked down the aisle. "Not gonna be winning Personality Of The Year anytime soon, but I hear he can be a halfway decent director."

He then straightened back up, eyes scanning the people gathered here for a second before his face lit up, "Oo, let's sit with them!" His hands went to my shoulders and he steered me into a sharp turn down one of the rows. Coming to a stop next to two more faces I vaguely recognized, Lea greeted, "Ladies, mind if we join you?"

The two women looked up at us with friendly smiles, the ginger nodding, "Of course! Take a seat!"

We did just that, with the pair of them to my right and Lea to my left. He reached across in front of me to fistbump the closer of the two girls, "Sweet! Redheads of the world unite, booyah!"

I looked over with a timid grin. It was time once again for another one of my little misadventures into the world of small talk! Clearing my throat and tapping my sheep music against my knees to straighten them even though they were in no actual need of straightening, I asked, "It was Tiana and… Ariel, I believe?"

"Mm-hm!" Ariel closed her eyes as her smile grew. "Elsa, right? We haven't officially met yet, but I remember seeing you around at 7th Heaven that one night! You and Lea were amazing at karaoke! Well… really more so you. No offense, Lea," she giggled.

"None taken. I know my gal's got a beautiful pair o' lungs on her," he slung his arm around my shoulders, hugging me close and pressing a kiss into my hair.

Tiana leaned forward to look past Ariel and meet my gaze, "You really do. Do you work with a professional voice coach or anything?"

I blushed, tugging on my braid. "I, uh… no. No, nothing like that."

"Really?" Ariel's lips formed a surprised little 'o'. Then her face brightened once more, "Well, if you're looking for someone, I can put you in touch with mine if you'd like. His name is Sebastian and he's absolutely wonderful. He can be uptight and a bit of a party-pooper, but he gets results!"

Squeezing my braid harder now, I gaped at her slightly. "You actually have a voice coach?"

This was community theatre, as Lea had made a strong point of earlier. People here weren't supposed to have friggin' voice coaches!

"Yup! I'm going to be a famous singer one day and finally leave this sleepy town to tour all over the world, after all, so it's important I do my best right now! I've been practicing ever since I was-"

"Eric to the stage please," Marluxia's voice suddenly echoed throughout the room.

Ariel gasped excitedly and struck a finger up to her lips, shushing Tiana, Lea and me (despite the fact that none of us were talking) before eagerly sitting forward in her chair, practically buzzing with anticipation. That silver-haired Setzer guy - oh gosh, had he come in costume or was that crazy getup just what he normally wore? - swaggered cockily down the stairs to the right of the stage while another dude was coming up the left. The newcomer had short black hair, dimples when he smiled and I suppose what some might call Prince Charming good looks.

Ariel plonked her elbows down onto her knees and propped her chin up in both hands with a delighted sigh. "Isn't he dreamy?"

Tiana wrinkled her nose and muttered to me behind Ariel's head, "She has a bit of a crush."

"You're one to talk," Ariel snorted, elbowing her in the arm. "Naveen's should be up next. Believe me," she smirked towards me, "you haven't seen heart-eyes until you see the ones Tiana has for this guy."

"Shut up, do not!" she laughed, swatting her shoulder.

Brushing her off, Ariel suddenly pointed towards my sheet music. "May I?"

"Oh, uh… s-sure," I handed them over, freeing up both my hands to strangle my braid now. Noticing this, Lea took one of them in his own, shifting it over to the armrest between us and lacing his fingers into mine. The warmth of his palm against the back of my hand brought me some comfort and I felt a little less restless.

Ariel squinted at the papers for a second before grinning, "Oh wow, I love this song! Good choice! Although, if I remember correctly…" she flipped towards the end. "Ah, yup! A second singer does come in. They only have a couple lines though. I can go up with you and fill in for those bits if ya want, the director shouldn't mind!"

"That's really nice… thank you," I smiled, taking the pages back. Sally had said pretty much the same thing when I'd texted her to make sure the song would be okay, but that still had meant I needed to find someone to sing those few extra lines. I hadn't counted on someone finding me instead. Thank goodness for small miracles.

This was one of my most favorite songs too. One from a musical I'd watched over and over again when I was a child, so often that it'd probably driven my parents to the point of insanity. I had just identified so much with the character who sang this number and it still to this day held a very special place in my heart, even after all these years. I knew this song forwards and backwards. Knew it like the back of my hand. I figured if I had any chance of leaving any sort of good impression here today, it would be with this song.

Looking up from the music notes scrawled across the papers, I saw that that Eric person had left. He'd been replaced by a man with a newsie hat on over his wavy, dark brown hair and was singing something jazzy. The way Tiana was reddening while Ariel giggled and whispered to her, I suspected this had to be Naveen. I tried to just sit back, relax and enjoy the show. Tried to banish the anxiety from my thoughts, instead focusing more on Lea's hand now toying with my fingers. On the way he lightly traced up and down their lengths, making them tingle pleasantly. Hoping that little tingle would help keep the nervousness at bay.

But it didn't.

I began to flinch slightly with each new name called, fearing it would be mine. Feeling a little relief when it wasn't, as well as a little annoyance from just wanting to get this over and done with already. A flinch for when Olette was called, who was sitting with a boy with black spiky hair held up by a headband. I idly wondered if it was that buddy of hers who hadn't been able to make it to Friday night drinks - Pence, I believe? Another flinch for when Yuna was called, some brunette with mismatched eyes who sang a pop song I was unfamiliar with. Two more flinches for each of her friends when their names were called, a perky blonde with a long ponytail full of small braids and a freaky looking goth chick in a tight, strappy leather outfit. And yet another flinch for when Rhyme was called, a girl whose sweet demeanor was at odds with the little skull on her black cap and the rap number she'd chosen to sing.

I had to keep resisting the urge to glance towards the doors in back. The ones leading to the outside world. To freedom. Not for the first time, I wondered… what if I made a run for it? You know, just straight up booked it? The idea did hold merit and was very tempting. Nay, extremely tempting.

The only drawback? I'd hate myself.

Because as much as I was dreading this, Lea hadn't been wrong. This was something I wanted. Like… really, really wanted. I'd been trying to lie to myself, pretending I didn't really care, downplaying how important it actually was to me. But this was something I'd dreamt about since I was little. Sadly, I had lost that dream somewhere along the way as I had grown older. Had misplaced and forgotten it in favor of pleasing my parents, of fulfilling their wishes and expectations for me and how I led my life. I had carelessly discarded it, giving it up for nothing more than useless childhood fantasy.

But now it had found its way back to me and I'd been given a second chance. And even if it ended up going nowhere and turned out to be nothing more than a deadend, I still had to try. I just knew that this was something that I had to do. That I needed to do. For me. For the sake of my own happiness.

...gah, just why did it have to be so scary though?!

And all these women trying out before me? Were so not helping! They were all so amazing and talented. Each one seemed better than the last. Each one had most likely been practicing for this audition for days, if not weeks. Each one had probably done this at least once before. Everyone knew everyone here and were all friends. Everyone, that is, except for me. How could I, a stranger with no real experience or training and very little preparation, possibly even hope to stand a chance?

Man, making a break for it through that back door was looking better and better by the second.

My fingers clutched the sheet music more tightly, wrinkling and creasing it after I'd tried so hard not to this whole time. I didn't really seem to care anymore. I could feel the blood draining from my face and-

"Yawn, total snoozefest," came a sudden whisper in my ear.

I jerked my head around towards it, blinking owlishly at Lea once, then twice. "...huh?"

"Her," he nodded to the current girl trying out, her long golden hair ending in curls. "That Aurora chick. She's got me just 'bout ready to hibernate over here."

My wide eyes darted back and forth between her and him. Then it happened. A tiny snerk, escaping through my nose before I could stop it. Too late I clasped a hand over my mouth. After a short pause, I lowered it to whisper back, "You don't really mean that. You're just trying to distract me."

He bobbed his shoulders and grinned. "Is it working?"

I looked away now, carefully schooling my expression as I attempted to smooth the crumples out of my sheet music. "...maybe."

Next up was Tiana. "Jeez, talk about frog in your throat," Lea murmured low out of the corner of his mouth. A mutinous little snort burst out of my nose and I tried to shush him. Then it was Ariel's turn. "Love that girl to death but I'm sorry, a warbling seagull sounds better." I bit back a soft pft and pinched his arm. I was trying not to laugh, I really was, but each remark was so ridiculous, so stupid, so obviously not true that it was hard to resist. A Snow White was called next - now that was a stage name if I ever heard one. At least, I hoped it was. She'd gotten about halfway through her audition when I heard a hushed, "Tch, who taught her to sing, a buncha tone-deaf coal miners?"

I spluttered, clamping my hand firmly over his mouth. "Okay, you need to stop now," I hissed out in a poor attempt to hide my amusement.

There was a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Then I felt him licking my fingers.

"Ugh, real mature," I scrunched up my face, snatching my hand back only to wipe it off on his cheek a second later.

"Psh, acting like ya don't like it," he sniggered, cupping the side of my head so he could pull me in and rub his damp cheek to mine.

I squirmed, trying to break free. "Gross! Why? Just… why?"

Grip holding me firmly in place while he still nuzzled our cheeks together, he cooed, "Consider it a good luck charm from me to you! Now you have no choice but to knock their socks off!"

"How old are you, seven?" I grunted, trying to wedge an elbow between us. "You seriously need to gro-"

"Could Elsa please step onto the stage now?"

Both Lea and I froze for a split second. Fudge, I'd all but forgotten where I was and why I was here. Now it all came crashing back to me.

Ka-thunk.

What was that, you might be wondering? Oh nothing really. Just the sound of my heart plummeting to the bottom of my gut.

Before I'd even realized what I was doing, I'd sprung up onto my feet and was walking briskly towards the center aisle with all the grace and dignity I could muster. As if I couldn't still feel Lea's slobber drying on my cheek. Good luck charm, indeed. I'd show him good luck!

...that hadn't come across sounding as threatening as I would have liked.

It took a few seconds for it to really sink in. What I was doing. Where I was going. What I was about to do. I was about to audition… to sing in front of all of these people. I had to remind myself that this was something that I really, truly wanted. It was hard to remember right now in this exact second, but the desire was still there. Way deep, deep down inside of me, there was still that tiny spark valiantly burning away, smothered and small though it may be at the moment.

As each step brought me closer to that stage, I felt it again. That chilly dread pooling in the pit of my stomach. The iciness seemed to spread outward and I slowly grew numb. My mind started to feel detached and far away from the rest of my body, like I was no longer in control of it. Instead, it was more like I was only a passenger as it kept moving me forward seemingly of its own accord now, taking me up those stairs leading to my doom. That's right, my doom. I wasn't being over dramatic here at all. Not one bit.

Conceal, don't feel.

As I started crossing the stage, I was hardly even aware of Ariel out of the corner of my eye, whispering something to Marluxia before he gave a curt nod and she was scrambling up those steps after me. My ankle boots against the hardwood echoed loudly throughout the quiet theater. Too loudly, it felt like. But it paled in comparison to the thundering of my heart - oh gosh, could everyone else hear it too?

Conceal, don't feel.

All too soon, I was reaching the pianist and offering him the (rather abused at this point) sheet music with a shaky hand. He took it, looking it over briefly before setting it down on the music rack and smiling, "Just give me a nod when you're ready."

Ariel popped up then, plonking down onto the bench beside him with a grin. "I'll just sit with Demyx here and jump in for the parts you need me. Don't worry, you'll do great!"

My mouth tightened into a crude approximation of a smile before I turned to face the audience.

Big mistake.

Jeez, were there more people out there now? I could swear there were more people. Somehow, I willed my feet to move me closer to the front and center of the performance area. My fingers were running along my braid nonstop, up and down, up and down. My breathing had become so rapid and shallow. It felt like I wasn't getting enough oxygen into my lungs. Could the air be thinner here on stage? You know, all the way up at this higher altitude of a whopping five feet?

Conceal, don't feel.

My eyes darted from face to unfamiliar face, not sure where to look. At the director maybe? That'd make sense, right? He'd be the one to decide my fate here, after all. I glanced down at Marluxia. At that blonde chick next to him - maybe she was his assistant director? Did community theater even have an assistant director? Well I suppose it would just depend on- focus, Elsa, focus! I squeezed my eyes shut with a grimace before opening them back up, looking to that pair once more. By their expressions, they both already seemed so remarkably unimpressed by me and I hadn't even begun yet. No, staring at them would only rattle me more.

I gripped at my braid more tightly and my gaze shifted about once more, almost desperate now, searching for what, I wasn't quite sure. But at last I seemed to find it - a face I knew. Lea's face. There, suddenly, like a beacon in the crowd. I wasn't quite sure how I'd not seen him until now. When our eyes met, he merely bobbed his head slightly and smiled at me. So small, so simple. And yet it filled me with such warmth and encouragement.

Lea thought I was brave.

And maybe, just for this one moment, I could pretend to be.

I inhaled deeply, my breath a raspy hiss through my nose. Holding it in for a couple seconds, I then puffed it out softly, releasing my braid and letting my hands fall to my sides. Finally, I gave Demyx a stiff nod over my shoulder.

Welp. This was it. No turning back now.

It was probably only a second, maybe two, but it felt like an eternity before that first piano note sounded. When at last it did, I swear it practically gave me a heart attack and my knees almost buckled. But I steadied myself, my clammy hands smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles out of my dress as I let the tune wash over me, trying to find solace in its familiarity. I kept my eyes fixed on Lea. Anywhere else and I knew I would lose my nerve completely. I could hear it coming in the music. My cue to start singing. I sucked in a breath.

"Every inch of me is trembling," oh gosh, that had never been more true than it was in this very moment, "but not from the cold. Something is familiar like a dream I can reach but not quite hold." Was I too quiet? Pretty sure I was too quiet. Licking my dry lips, I pushed my quavering voice to be louder, "I can sense you there like a friend I've always known... I'm arriving and it feels like I am hom-" I choked, my tongue stumbling over the word. My pulse flatlined, my blood turned to ice in my veins, and every atom in me was screaming at me to run, run, run.

But I resisted. I don't know how, but I did. Maybe it was Lea's reassuring gaze still holding mine. Maybe it was that spark deep down inside, flaring up obstinately to fight back against the cold fear closing in around my heart. Whatever it was, I remained rooted to the spot, clenching and unclenching my hands and eyes hard.

"I have always been a fortress," my heart hammered in my ears as I stubbornly pushed on, pretending I hadn't made a mistake, "cold secrets deep inside. You have secrets too, but you don't have to hide." Lea folded his arms atop the back of the chair in front of him, bending forward to rest his chin atop them and looking quite content. Feeling emboldened, I went into the chorus, "Show yourself, I'm dying to meet you. Show yourself, it's your turn." I think my voice was getting stronger. Perhaps it was only wishful thinking. "Are you the one I've been looking for all of my life? Show yourself, I'm ready to learn... Ah-ah, ah-ah!" I rang out the last bit and I heard Ariel's voice echo an answering call behind me.

"I've never felt so certain, all my life I've been torn," some of my tension was beginning to melt away and I took a tiny step forward. "But I'm here for a reason, could it be the reason I was born?" I could feel something bubbling up inside my chest… giddiness, maybe? "I have always been so different, normal rules did not apply. Is this the day? Are you the way I finally find out why?" A smile was beginning to find its way onto my face. I couldn't believe it. A small, but actual, genuine smile of pure joy.

"Show yourself, I'm no longer trembling!" I burst out suddenly, almost triumphantly. Lea was lifting his head back up, face slack, eyes round. I had no idea what that meant. Was it a good reaction? A bad one? Either way, I was spurred on to do better. "Here I am, I've come so far! You are the answer I've waited for all of my life! Oh, show yourself, let me see who you are!" I wasn't even looking at him anymore. I was starting to forget about where I was, just getting lost in the was the only thing that mattered to me anymore in that moment.

I brought my voice back down, singing slowly, sweetly, "Come to me now, open your door, don't make me wait one moment more... Oh, come to me now," I repeated the line with more energy, "open your door, don't make me wait one moment more!"

"Where the north wind meets the sea," Ariel chimed in now and I took the moment to close my eyes, pulling in a big breath and reveling in the delightful tingle in my chest. I was entering the home stretch and there was no fear left. Only excitement. "There's a river full of memory... Come, my darling, homeward bound…"

"I am found!" I sang, putting all I had into it, letting the last word stretch and ring throughout the theater. "Show yourself, step into the power! Grow yourself into something new!"

Ariel came in one last time, "You are the one you've been waiting for…"

"All of my life!" I belted out, finishing the line she'd started. "Oh, show yourself! Ah-ah, ah-ah!" I vocalized the notes a few more times, each round louder and more confident than the last before finally ending the song in one long crescendo.

The auditorium was suddenly very quiet except for my low panting as I tried to catch my breath.

Then I heard it.

The sound of clapping. More specifically, of one single person clapping very enthusiastically, reverberating noisily around the otherwise dead silent room.

Feeling my face erupt in heat, I immediately buried it in my hands. I knew who it was, even before I parted my fingers to peek between them out into the audience. Yup. There he was. Lea, up on his feet to give me a standing ovation while everyone else remained seated, staring at him blankly.

The dork.

Ariel was at my side now, snickering as she muttered behind her hand to me, "This is why they normally don't let the boyfriends in to watch."

He didn't look like he planned on quitting any time soon either.

"Hsst!" I blew through my grit teeth at him discreetly. Well… as discreetly as I could, given I was still standing on a stage in front of a room full of people. "Stop it," I whispered, narrowing my eyes on him. I could see Jack making long, annoyed strides towards Lea. "You hear me? Stop. It."

He seemed to take 'stop it' to mean 'applaud harder and pepper it with a few shrill whistles for good measure.'

I sighed, hanging my head and pressing my fingers between my eyebrows.

"D'aw, I think it's cute," I heard Ariel laugh and I hazarded a glance up again. Lea, finally spotting Jack coming for him, had vaulted himself over some chairs into the next row and was trying to make a run for it. "Your boyfriend is your biggest fan."

"...yes," I rubbed a curled finger over my lips, eyes crinkling as I watched the little scene he was making. Sally had been waiting for him on the other end of the seats opposite of Jack. Realizing his mistake too late, she snagged him by the ear before he could backtrack and started dragging him out of the auditorium. "Yes, I suppose he is."

I still had to sing my second song, the one from Wicked itself. That one ended up being a lot less nerve-wracking. Don't get me wrong, a few jitters yet remained to wriggle about my insides, but I was still riding the endorphin high from getting through my first song, making the second one seem like a breeze in comparison. When I was done, the only acknowledgement I got from Marluxia was an impassive, "Thank you," before he was calling the next person. I hurried off the stage and had a quick word with Jack and Sally before saying my farewell and walking outside.

The sun was beginning to set by now, making the shadows stretch long. It wasn't hard to spot Lea, leaning against his car as he thumbed through his phone and waited.

My heart swelled and my feet suddenly had a mind of their own, propelling me forward.

He glanced up, pocketing his phone and grinning big at me as he used his foot to push himself up off the car. "Hey! You kicked some serious ass up th-" A surprised grunt was forced out of him as I suddenly crashed into his chest, hugging him tightly around the waist.

"...thank you for that," I muffled quietly into his shirt.

Lea was very still for a second. But then I felt a small chuckle rumbling throughout his body as his arms slowly wrapped around my shoulders, returning the embrace. "Nah, that was all you, El. I just provided the wheels that got ya here."

I loosened my grip but didn't fully let go. Just enough so I could lean back slightly to smile up at him. "Thanks for coming with me. I didn't think I'd wanted anyone here, but… it made a difference and meant more to me than I realized it would. And thank you for encouraging me to do this and…" my nose wrinkled a bit, "...and for making me get up on that karaoke stage a couple weeks ago, despite my multiple protests."

He snorted, but his face softened as he brushed some of my hair behind my ear, his thumb just barely grazing along my cheek with the gesture. "What can I say? Being a pushy, overbearing asshole is one of my many wonderful talents."

"That's not what I meant," my eyelids drooped.

"I know," he hummed a laugh as he pulled me in for another hug, squeezing me close as he rested his chin atop my head. We stayed that way for a few seconds more before he released a heavy sigh. Then he pulled back, cupped my face with both his hands, tenderly pressed his lips to my forehead, and...

...blew a goddamn raspberry.

I gasped and shoved him away, furiously scrubbing at my brow with my forearm. "Ugh, was getting more of your slobber on my face completely necessary?!"

"Oh without a doubt! I know what a huge fan of it ya are," he smirked cheekily as he made his way around his car to open the door for me. "Now then, shall we get you home, m'lady, so we can spread the good news?"

I squinted at him with a frown as I followed him over and took a seat. "...what good news?"

"That ya got the starring role, of course!" he chirped down at me.

"I did not-" I was interrupted as he shut the car door in my face. Huffing and buckling myself in, I waited until he was climbing into the driver seat to try again, "They won't even be announcing who's getting what part until next week, but I seriously doubt they're going to give me a lead."

"You're right, my mistake," he stuck his key into the ignition and twisted it, shooting me a wink. "They'll give ya two."

"Goodness, I'm getting two leads now?" I fought the upward tug I felt at one side of my mouth. "Do you even know how plays work?"

"Course! That's why I know for a fact that they're just gonna give you all the parts."

I bit back a grin. "Huh. A one-woman Wicked show. Now that'd certainly be a… choice."

"And one I have every confidence in you to pull off!" he nodded chipperly as we exited the parking lot.

I just shook my head at him. Honestly, I didn't care what part I got. I'd be honored just to be included in the chorus if they even gave me that much. But no, all that I really cared about was that I'd actually done it. Gone through with the audition and lived to tell the tale. And sure, it had scared me out of my mind, but in the end it'd been worth it. Because you know what? Turned out I'd absolutely loved singing on that stage. And I knew for sure now that this was something I wanted to do… something that I wanted to play a part in my life, no matter how big or small. And so what if I most likely wasn't going to get the lead this time around? I could just use this experience to learn the ropes and get better prepared.

Better prepared, that is, to totally crush it at the audition for the next show.

Author's Note: And yet another scene where I included the full lyrics of a song sang by a character - again, it's not something I would normally do, but I felt this was a rare occasion where it's important enough to Elsa's character growth that again I shouldn't just gloss over it. But gosh, I feel so awkward writing detailed singing scenes! Why oh why did I have to make her want to do something with singing? This was a story decision I fast grew to regret, haha xD I hope it turned out okay tho! Anyhoo, for anyone out there who hasn't seen Frozen 2, the song she sings this chapter, Show Yourself, is from that - I suggest you give it a listen if you haven't heard it before :) Actually hearing it does it way more justice than I could ever do in writing xD And I've decided that Disney movies still exist in this AU, they're just musicals now and the characters in those musicals most likely just all have different names than their Disney movie counterparts, but the plot is otherwise unaffected xP Fun fact: The ice cream this chapter, Ever After, is named after Corona's keyblade and I imagine its description on the menu would look something like: "Let down your golden lemon soft serve! A specialty from Corona, this treat is garnished with edible flowers and served in a stack of purple waffles cones to form a tower."

So, did Elsa manage to impress the powers that be at the audition? Will she make the cut and land a part the musical? Will she get a lead, a bit part, or the boot? WAS Lea's slobber actually lucky enough to tip the scales in her favor? Find out… NOT next chapter xD No, we have something else on the horizon for next time… could that fated yet dreaded weekend with the folks finally and at long last be upon us? Stay tuned to find out!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

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