#and my other pin fell off a few minutes ago and my favorite necklace that i never take off broke

[robyn-i-guess]

positivity posting is OVER i am experiencing critical levels of stress and if anyone so much as talks to me within the next 24 hours they will get kicked into the ground and personally hit by lighting

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 8)

a/n: oh my! we have finally reached the end of this story and I never thought it would turn out to be this long but im happy it did! thank you for reading and loving it, and now, enjoy the last part!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 4k

warning: just pure fluff

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

“Girl, even if you don’t win, you’ll surely take the title of the hottest woman on the red carpet tonight.”

Florence’s words make you chuckle, but you try not to move your lips too much as the makeup artist finishes up the last touches on them, using a nude shade.

“Stop, my head is big enough already,” you tell her, giving her a look through the mirror. She is standing a few feet behind you, already wearing her beautiful, golden Versace gown that hugs her perfectly. Her hair is up in a neat bun so her back can be on full display and the diamonds in her ears can also shine brightly. She looks amazing while she is the opposite of what you’ll look like tonight.

Rhonda, the makeup artist has an amazing notion about your look when you showed her the gown you’d be wearing tonight and since the dress is not the sparkly kind, like Florence’s, she went a little heavier with the glitter on your eyes, using mostly whitish-silver colors, creating rosy cheeks and topping it with nude, glossy lips. Your hair is in loose curls with a bunch of extension, creating the illusion that you might as well be Rapunzel herself tonight. But you are the most excited about the gown that’s already waiting for you to be finally put on.

“What time is it?” you ask Florence as you don’t have your phone on you, but she has hers in her hands already.

“We still have half an hour before we have to leave. Dude, I can’t believe you are an Oscar nominee and might turn into a winner tonight!” she sighs, eyes shining bright with excitement. She hasn’t come off of this high for days, so over the Moon that you get to walk the red carpet tonight as a nominee.

“Don’t jinx it, Flo,” you warn her.

There’s a knock on the door of the hotel suit you’ve occupied for the glamming and Florence is quick to rush to it answering, but you both know who it is. As she throws the door open Harry comes to your sight, looking  as handsome as ever, wearing his custom made Gucci suit with a pink dress shirt underneath that matches your gown perfectly.

“Florence, you look wonderful!” his british accent fills the room, making you smile. Rhonda sets your makeup with some spray and you’re finally done. Standing up you move your legs around a bit as they went a little numb from all the sitting.

“Thank you! Pink suits you well, Harry,” your friend compliments your man and you watch them smiling.

When Harry’s eyes set on you, the light up, his smile widening from ear to ear. He looks spotless, freshly shaved, his hair recently cut and combed into place for a change. Not that you don’t like it when it’s all tousled and messy, especially when it’s because of your fingers.

“Angel, wow!” he breathes out as he walks up to you, taking your hands in his. You know he wants to kiss you, but doesn’t want to risk messing your lips up, so he is left with admiring you with only his eyes.

“Just wait until you see her in the dress!” Florence chimes in making you chuckle. You kept your dress a secret, wanting to surprise him with the first look. You gave out only the most necessary details for Lambert so the two of you could match.

“You’d be great like this too,” he teases, taking a look at your fluffy robe.

“I’m not going to the Oscars in a robe,” you tell him with a narrow-eyed look.

“I know, I’m just saying that you’d still be stunning,” he mumbles with a boyish smirk.

“Y/N? Time to choose a necklace!” Your stylist, Rupert appears from the room where your gown is hanging. He has a few jewelry boxes in his hands and he sets them all to the coffee table, opening up you are met with four breathtakingly beautiful diamond necklaces, each of them different yet so magical looking, you can’t decide which one you like the most.

“Harry, which one do you like the most?” you ask, kneeling down next to the table, mesmerized by the jewelries in front of you. Harry leans down and inspects them one by one before poking on the last one in the row. It has three rows of diamonds, not too big, the stones in the last row are shaped like water droplets, it’s such an elegant looking piece, it surely caught your eyes as well and you think it would be perfect with the dress.

“This one,” he tells you and you nod, shutting the other boxes, satisfied with the choice.

“Alright, time to get you into the gown, girl,” Rupert winks, gesturing at you to follow him into the room.

“I’ll be right back,” you tell Harry, risking a quick peck on his lips before you disappear in your temporary dressing room.

You fell in love with the gown on the first fitting when Rupert pulled it out, still in the finishing phase. It still has pins in it, but it already took your breath away. It has a massive A-line skirt and a tight upper part that hugs your body perfectly, a row of buttons running down the middle of it. The sleeves are puffy, but then end in a tight run from a little above your wrists, the same set of buttons appearing like on your chest. It’s giving out some Victorian style vibes in a more sophisticated and simpler way, but it’s by far your favorite dress you’ve ever worn to any event.

It surely needs the extra pair of hands from Rupert to put it on, but once you are secured in it, you feel like a princess straight out of a fairytale and surely, your prince is standing on the other side of the double doors.

“Alright! Everyone get ready for the big reveal!” Rupert announces, sneaking out the room so he can open the door for you. He waits a few moments as you hear everyone shuffle around outside, probably lining up to see you walk out in your finished state. “Okay, three! Two! One! Welcome our Oscar nominee!” he cheers, a round of applause is heard before you even appear, but it’s quickly replaced with gasps when Rupert pulls the doors open and they get the first glimpse of you in your gown.

“Holy fuck!” Florence gasps, mouth hanging open as she keeps raking your form up and down. Your eyes find Harry’s gaze and you see him in a state you haven’t often found him in the past almost two years you’ve been dating. He is completely speechless, eyes glued to you in awe as if he just saw an angel in real life.

“Y/N, I—wow,” he breathes out, still at a loss of words.

“You like it?” you ask with a shy smile.

“I fucking love it, baby. You look… You really are an angel,” he tells you, making you chuckle at his words.

“Would you please help me put on the necklace?” you ask him and he nods eagerly, carefully taking the jewelry out of its box and walking behind you, he brings it around your neck, his fingers delicately working on the clasp. Once it’s all set, you step to the floor to ceiling mirror, taking in the final look.

“There won’t be a straight woman left on Earth once you step on the red carpet,” Florence bluntly comments, making everyone in the room laugh.

“Let’s take some photos, I need to immortalize this masterpiece,” Rupert gestures around, already grabbing his camera.

The next ten minutes you take hundreds of photos, alone, with Florence and then with Harry. He still seems a little stunned by your look, feeling shy when he circles his arm around your waist, but it’s cute that you can still have such an effect on him after being together for almost two years.

Florence snaps some with your phone as well, your favorite is when he held your waist and leant you back, making you arch backwards as your noses touched since he couldn’t kiss you. You already know it’ll end up as your lockscreen, replacing the selfie the two of you took on your latest trip to Hawaii.

When it’s time to leave you grab your little purse with your phone and other necessities and the three of you pile up in a minivan, since your dress needs all the space so it doesn’t get wrinkled before you step out to the red carpet.

As you sit in the car and watch the buildings pass by, your nerves start to rise in you. When the nominations came out a month ago it seemed so far, you couldn’t imagine yourself actually attending the Academy Awards, but now here you are, on your way to find out if you’ve been good enough to be the best.

Your role in Sinful Heaven has brought a lot to your life aside from the nomination. The three months of filming was one of the hardest times in your life you’ve ever worked through and at some points, you didn’t even think you’d get through it. Working so closely with Levi took a toll on you while you were trying to prove in such a heavy and serious role. It was a mess especially at the beginning when you and Harry were still in this weird phase, but that eventually turned right when he literally punched Levi in the face and ten minutes later asked you to be his girlfriend. It’s a badass way to start a relationship and you wouldn’t trade it for anything, especially because it put Levi into place or at least scared him enough to get off your back for the rest of the filming.

When Harry left following that visit, you couldn’t see each other until filming wrapped and you flew straight to him and travelled with him for the next two weeks, hopping from one city to the other, watching him perform every other night and spending all your time with him.

When the movie premiered eight months later, you didn’t appear with Harry by your side, Maya was your date for the evening, but by that time everyone knew you and Harry are an official couple. Neither of you felt like hiding it or caring about what others would think and you were able to focus on each other and rely on the strong foundation you’ve built for your relationship.

He was there with you when the nominations came out and probably screamed louder when your name appeared in the list. With tearing eyes and choked out sobs you jumped into his arms as he mumbled into your ear.

“I’m so proud of you, Angel. So, so proud!”

And now you are on your way to the show, only hours away from finding out if your dreams will come true tonight. Harry squeezes your hand and you turn to face him, his soft eyes meeting yours.

“Nervous?” he asks with a small smile.

“Very,” you admit with an airy chuckle.

“Whatever happens tonight, I’m very proud of you. Don’t forget that.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, giving his hand a squeeze back.

Since it’s the first time you and Harry appear on the red carpet as a couple, once you set your feet out of the car, everyone goes nuts. He helps you out and even fixes your dress so it falls just perfectly around your frame before he offers his arm. You link your through it, taking a deep breath as the two of you start walking down the carpet, posing for the photographers.

You feel powerful and strong, like it’s the peak of your career, but you also feel that it wouldn’t be the same without Harry by your side even though he is making sure to let you shine tonight. At one point he even steps back for a moment so photographers can snap you alone and you think it’s such a caring move from him.

You feel a little dizzy from all the flashlights by the time you walk into the theater, Harry holding your hand tightly as he leads you to your seats.

You’ve been to plenty award shows and it’s not even your first Academy Awards appearance either, but for obvious reasons, it’s the most important. Sitting in your plush chair, you can barely stop yourself from continuously fidgeting as one category follows the other and it’s still not yours.

Then following a jaw-dropping performance from Dua Lipa, Chris Evans walks out with a golden statue and an envelope in his hands and your heart skips a beat, but not because of the man himself, but because you know he is the presenter of the Best Actress category.

Your hold on Harry’s hand on your lap tightens and you glue your eyes to the big screens behind Chris as he smiles around.

“Good evening. It’s a pleasure to be here and to present the award for Best Actress. The theater tonight is filled with exceptional talents, but let’s see the nominees,” he speaks into the microphone and then he starts listing the names.

Emma Stone, Anne Hathaway, Margot Robbie and Rooney Mara are called and a camera fixates on each of them when Chris says their names, all smiling brightly and waving around before your name is called at the end. Taking a deep breath you plaster your most wonderful smile across your face, waving around like the other nominees did before the big screen splits, showing the five of you simultaneously.

“We’ve seen some spectacular performances from these ladies and now let’s see who proved herself to be the best this year.”

Chris flips the envelope open and pulls the little paper out that has the winner’s name written on it and for a moment you’re convinced you’ll pass out. You’ve never felt this anxious before and you’re gripping Harry’s hand so tightly you’re surprised he hasn’t pulled it back, but he is patiently putting up with your nerves, his eyes glued to the man on the stage as well.

“And the Academy Award for Best Actress goes to…” Chris starts with a charming smile, holding a short pause before he finally says the name. “Y/N Y/L/N for her role as Marie Davidson in Sinful Heaven!”

Your mouth hangs open, ears ringing as you process that your name was called. Everyone around you jumps up, including Harry, who is screaming just like when the nominations came out, while you are completely blank. It takes you a couple of moments to realize that you in fact just won your first Oscar and everyone is waiting for you to go and get your little statue.

“Baby! Baby you won!” Harry cheers as he helps you up from your seat and you throw yourself into his arms as reality sets in. “I fucking love you, Angel. Go and get your Oscar!” he laughs, pride all over his face as he urges you to walk up to the stage.

“Walk me up, please!” you stammer, not trusting yourself with walking in this fragile state. He offers his hand without a second thought, walking you to the stage where Chris is politely waiting for you to help you up on the stairs.

“Thank you,” you breathe out once you’re finally up on the stage, every set of eyes on you as Chris hands you the little statue.

“Congratulations,” he smiles as the two of you exchange two kisses on the cheeks before he steps aside and lets you give a speech.

You thought about writing a few words beforehand, but you figured if you end up being the winner you’d forget the whole thing, so there would be no use and that’s the case. Your mind is still blank as you look down at the award in your hands, the crowd still cheering on you, giving you a few extra moments to figure out what to say.

“I uhh—I don’t even know what to say, this feels like a dream,” you admit talking into the microphone, the clapping dying down so that everyone can hear your words. “I want to thank to everyone who worked on Sinful Heaven, because I wouldn’t be here without them. To my wonderful director and amazing costars, it’s been such a wonderful journey with you all. Thank you to my friends and family who were there with me from the very start, believing in me when I was losing faith in myself, thank you for never giving up on me. To my parents who I assume are now crying in front of the TV,” you add chuckling softly, imagining your mom and dad in tears as they listen to your words. “This is a wonderful sign to me that I am where I need to be and that I’m on the right path, so thank you for giving me even more motivation to keep me going on my way.”

Your eyes roam around all the guests until they fall on one proud man staring at you in his Gucci suit and pink dress shirt, his green eyes looking glossy as he listens to your words.

“And last but not least, thank you to one special person, because I’m convinced I wouldn’t be here tonight without him. I have one thing to tell you.” Forgetting about everyone in the theater you hold up the Oscar in your hand as you finish your speech: “Never have I ever loved someone like I love you.”

The crowd starts cheering again as you step away from the microphone and Chris is quick to jog up to you and help you down the stairs, Harry rushing back to take your hand once Chris lets go of it.

You catch him wipe a tear off his cheek as the two of you walk back to your seats hand in hand. Once you are settled, you take a deep breath and turn to Harry who is already looking at you, the same proud smile you saw from the stage still on his handsome face.

“I have never,” he tells you as his answer to the last line of your speech and you chuckle as your free hand finds the back of his neck, pulling him close. The lipstick on your lips long forgotten as you finally kiss him for the first time tonight.

“I have never either,” you whisper against his lips before kissing him again and again.

***

  Smiling around you wait for the audience to quiet down as you make yourself comfortable in the familiar armchair. It’s such a nostalgic feeling to sit here again.

“Y/N, it’s so nice to have you here again,” Ellen greets you once the clapping has stopped.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course. A lot has happened since the last time you were here, you won an Oscar just a few weeks ago, congratulations!”

The cheering starts again as a picture of you appears on the screen behind you, wearing your iconic pink gown, holding your Oscar in your hands.

“Thank you,” you shyly smile, still not entirely in peace with the fact that you are now an Oscar winning actress.

“Such a major thing, congrats.”

“Thank you, it is a huge thing, yes.”

“Do you already have a spot for the award? Does it have a designated place?”

“Well, for now it is in my study along with some more mementos, but I’m planning to have a little stand made in the living room,” you share your plans.

“Surely, I would want to show it off if I had an Oscar,” Ellen chuckles. “You have such a busy time behind you, have you been up to something new lately?”

“We finished filming the third season of The Umbrella Academy, so now I’m having a little break before I jump into anything new.”

“Sounds nice, you deserve all the relaxing. Anything planned while you’re on a break? A new book to read, or maybe a concert to go to?” she asks and you already know where this is heading.

“You know you can just ask if I’m planning to attend a Harry Styles concert,” you bluntly tell her, making the audience and Ellen laugh.

“Well, I was just asking around about your plans, but I’m happy you plan to visit Harry’s concert! It’s also good to know that the situation has changed since the last time you were here, you definitely have been to one of his concerts since then.”

“I have been, yes,” you admit smirking.

“And I assume the two of you are now very close, am I right?” she asks and suddenly a paparazzi photo of the two of you appears where you’re walking down the street hand in hand just a couple of weeks ago.

“You could say that,” you nod, biting into your bottom lip.

“Amazing, because he is going to join us now. Everyone, please welcome Harry Styles!” Ellen announces and turning around you spot Harry walking out from backstage, the audience screaming for him. He shyly waves around walking up to the center, greeting Ellen with a kiss on the cheek before he turns to you, pecking your lips shortly as he sits down next to you.

“Harry, so good to see you again,” Ellen smiles at him.

“Good t’ see you as well,” he nods.

“So, the last time you two were sitting here, you—it was the first time you ever met, right?”

“Right,” you nod with Harry.

“And now you are…” she gestures at the two of you, not finishing the sentence, but everyone knows what she meant by that.

“And now we are… not strangers anymore,” Harry says chuckling, making everyone in the studio laugh.

“Certainly,” Ellen nods. “Alright, I thought that we could play another game, just to bring back some nice memories,” she explains, reaching behind her armchair, grabbing the familiar board from her, flipping it in your hands with a nostalgic smile.

“Can we keep it PG rated though?” Harry asks, examining his board before looking up at Ellen.

“No,” she simply answers, reaching for her cards as the audience starts laughing. “Okay, you know how to play it, no need for explanation. Here is the first one: Never have I ever used my fame to get in somewhere.”

Ellen is quick to show the I HAVE side of her board and you slowly do the same while Harry thinks to himself.

“Oh come on, you surely have,” you elbow him playfully as he smirks in your way, holding up the same side as you and Ellen.

“We all have, it’s not a shame,” Ellen shrugs. “Next one. Never have I ever forgotten the name of someone right after they introduced themselves.”

Ellen holds up the I HAVE side and you do the same again while this time Harry flips it over to I HAVE NEVER confidently.

“Really?” Ellen asks him, surprised at his answer.

“I’m good with names,” he simply shrugs.

“That’s a good trait. Alright, let’s move on. Never have I ever punched someone in the face.”

It’s a sneaky and very shady statement. Just a few days after the incident with Levi, word got out that he was punched, a few blurry pictures floating around the internet of his bruise, then fans figured out it had to happen around the time Harry visited set and people were quick to put the picture together and assume that Harry was the one who hit Levi, but it was never confirmed.

Glancing at your boyfriend you are fighting your smile back, holding up the I HAVE NEVER side as he is looking back at you slyly, continuously flipping his board before it finally lands on I HAVE, the audience immediately rumbling at the partial confirmation and seemingly Ellen is also amazed by Harry’s honesty.

“Alright, interesting. Love that for you, Harry,” he comments making everyone laugh as you reach over and give Harry’s hand a squeeze. “Last one,” Ellen announces, reading the last statement from her cards. “Never have I ever fallen in love with someone I played never have I ever with.”

Ellen quickly shows her I HAVE NEVER side as you suck your lips into your mouth, glancing at Harry again. You share a look before you both slowly raise your boards, both reading the same sign on them: I HAVE.

[sassycassie-s-writing]

Movie Night, Pillow Fight [Version 2]

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC/BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood

Rating: PG-13/T (maybe pushing M? but there’s still nothing super explicit. this is just a lot dirtier than I usually write holy cannoli. Heavy kissing, a little bit of suggestive dialogue and narration, minor swearing?)

Original Idea: This (V1 follows this idea a lot more than this one, which I spun off of about halfway through and did my own thing)

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) I didn’t think this would be as long as Version 1. I was wrong. This one is ~200 words longer, at 3,491. Version 1 here. They start the exact same but change about halfway through. I wrote both of these two over the course of 1 day by the way, and refuse to pick a favorite. @welovegroot @jason-redhood @jason-todd-squad

^^^^^

“No, Bruce,” Jason said sharply into his phone as he grabbed his motorcycle helmet. “I’ve already told you a hundred times: Tuesdays are my day off. Unless it’s a Court-of-Owls-attacking-All-Hands-On-Deck emergency, I’m not going on patrol. I’m allowed one night off per week. And I have plans. It’s weekly movie night with a friend of mine. We’ve been doing movie night since college and I refuse to disappoint her. You know why I chose Tuesdays? Because Gotham’s crime rate is lowest. You’ll be fine without me.” He hung up before Bruce could reply.

—

I opened the door. “You’re late,” I said.

“Yeah. I had to go to two different stores to find your popcorn because they were out at the first one,” Jason replied, letting himself in and dropping his motorcycle helmet on my couch. “Let me go change into my sweats.” He pulled his grey sweatpants out of his backpack, two microwave popcorn bags falling out.

I grabbed them. “Thanks Jay,” I said playfully.

He gave me a brief hug before stepping past me to my bathroom. “The things I do for you,” he teased with a sigh.

“Get out of those jeans. You know they aren’t allowed,” I retorted before going over to the microwave. My bathroom door shut loudly. I boosted myself onto the counter and watched the popcorn spin in the microwave.

By the time Jason emerged from the bathroom, only one bag was done. He leaned against the counter next to me, arms folded, and joined my staring.

“So what movie did you bring?” I asked. “You said in your text it was one of your favorites.”

He beamed at me. “Well, my friend, we are watching the very first ever made Frankenstein. From nineteen-thirty-one.” He fixed me with a stare as my shoulders slouched. “Don’t you start moaning in complaint. You put me through watching that awful musical last week—”

“Excuse you, Phantom of the Opera is also a classic.”

“It’s basic.”

“You’re basic.”

“Maybe so, but after going through that ordeal, you promised we could watch one of my favorites. I managed not to fall asleep last week, so it’s my turn.” He stuck his tongue out at me, then shook his head. “I really need to refine your taste in theatre. Remind me to convince Bruce to give me his season tickets to the real opera. He never uses them anyway. Doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

Given Bruce’s parents were shot after leaving the opera, I imagined there was some childhood trauma there. I didn’t bring it up with Jason. We didn’t talk about family besides passing comments on movie nights.

When the second bag of popcorn was finished popping and put in its own large bowl—I had quite the collection of popcorn bowls, usually given to me—we went to my room.

Ever since we’d graduated college—two years ago—we’d had movie night in my bed, rather than on the couch, like we’d done in my dorm. The bed was comfier and gave us more room to spread out. I can’t even remember who suggested it, but it was probably me one week when I was sick or something and we’d just stayed that way ever since.

I’d always hosted too. In college it was because my roommate was never there, and now Jason just liked the escape from his family. They didn’t know where I lived, so the one time he hosted and they interrupted by coming over, he and I agreed we’d just have it at my place. I liked his brothers and sister well enough, but they’d ruined that movie night. I doubted Wayne Manor movie nights ever involved any movies no one had seen before—because everyone talked and yelled at each other too much to actually pay attention to the movie.

Jason put the DVD in the player in my room. “Prepare to be wowed,” he said.

“I’m prepared, trust me,” I replied flatly.

—

“Heeey,” Jason’s voice said softly. “Wake up, doofus.”

I blinked my eyes open blearily. “Wha…?”

He started chuckling. “You fell asleep about halfway through.”

“Duh. It was boring. What did you expect for a casual movie fan from this century watching something from nineteen-thirty-one?”

“Well, all that means is that we get to rewatch it—from the beginning—next week!” Jason declared. I frowned. “Don’t you pout at me. Those have been the official movie night rules since our freshman year of college.”

“That’s not true,” I said, pulling out my phone. I dug deep into the Google Docs on my phone for Movie Night Rules from our freshman year of college. Six years was a long way to scroll through, but eventually I found it. I opened the doc and scanned the rules. “Oh, buzz off,” I muttered, poking Jason in the side.

“No poking!” He lurched away. Jason was selectively ticklish. Sometimes I would poke him in the side and he’d jump, other times he wouldn’t even notice I touched him. And he swapped between the two randomly.

“Why didn’t you wake me up like two minutes after I fell asleep?”

Jason pursed his lips, trying not to smile. “I thought about it. But you looked so cute—” He pinched my cheek and I was reminded of the fact that he had the personality traits of an eighty-year-old grandmother. “—with your hair all messy and your cheeks all squished that I just couldn’t.” He laughed as I batted his hand away from my face. I poked him again. “No poking!”

“Then don’t tease.”

“I have a right to tease you. Look at my shirt! You drooled all over it.”

I grabbed the hem of it and pulled it up. “Let me throw it in the wash, then.”

I expected him to smack my hand away and shove the shirt back down over his torso, but to my surprise, he helped me take it off. I’d seen him shirtless too many times to bother staring at his remarkably muscular torso. I just climbed out of my bed and went to the small closet out in the hall that held my tiny washer and dryer. I threw his shirt in the washer, dumped a bit of detergent in, and got it started before going back to my room.

“Take that off! You’ll stretch it out!” I snapped.

Jason struggled to get one of my—much smaller—T-shirts from college off. I scoffed and helped him yank it over his head before throwing one my pajama shirts at him. I wore my dad’s old T-shirts to sleep in, so it was even big on Jason. “You could have just asked for a replacement and I’d have handed you this.”

“That’s not as fun as surprising you,” he joked.

I rolled my eyes and perched back on the bed. “Fine. Next week, we rewatch Frankenstein. I won’t fall asleep. But you’re bringing snacks again.”

“Of course.”

“And don’t forget the popcorn.”

“Doofus, if I forgot the popcorn, you wouldn’t let me through the door.”

I snickered. “True enough.”

Jason leaned over to set his popcorn bowl on the bedside table closest to him. “Maybe next week we should try this on the couch. I always feel bad about getting popcorn on your sheets—and then you won’t be so comfortable that you fall asleep.”

I grabbed a pillow and whacked him in the chest. His expression turned affronted.

“Did you just initiate a pillow fight?” he demanded.

“No,” I retorted. “I got payback for you insulting me.” I whacked him again. “That was me initiating a pillow fight.” I started flinging the pillow at him again and again.

“Hey! Not fair!” Jason protested. “I’m unarmed!”

I ignored him and kept up my pillow smacking.

He laughed. “Well, if you’re going to play dirty, I will too.” He reached out as my pillow hit him again and he wrangled it from me. “A-ha! Look at that! Got your ammo. How does it feel, to be attacked by your own pillow?”

Jason started smacking me with it. I squealed and blocked him as best I could with my arms. We were both laughing as I tried to reach around him to the pillow he’d been using to brace his back against my headboard. He grabbed my wrist with one hand and hit me with the pillow using the other. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I’m not going easy on you just because you’re adorable.”

I laughed as he nearly hit me hard enough to knock me off the bed.

So, I switched tactics.

Getting inside his much longer reach was the hard part. Once I managed to duck around his arms and wrench my wrist free, I started tickling him. Tonight was a ticklish night. He squirmed away from me.

Jason yowled—and I hoped my neighbors weren’t home—in laughter. “Stop it—stop tickling!”

I didn’t. I ran my wiggling fingers up his sides and across his neck. He tried to catch my hands, but I was quick enough to evade him.

For a few moments anyway.

“No. No!” His protests didn’t work on me. “Oh you’re as bad as my brothers. Stop it—stop it.” His voice went firm, all traces of laughter gone. With one quick movement, the pillow we’d attacked each other with was discarded on the floor. He grabbed my ankles and pulled me so I was lying flat in the center of the bed.

Jason straddled my waist, trapping my lower legs with his ankles and pinning both my hands above my head on the mattress. He was breathing hard. We both were.

He smiled. “There. Not so feisty now, are you? Hands pinned above your head, lying beneath me all… helpless.” He chuckled and licked his lower lip, his smile turning both playful and wicked. “I could have… any kind of revenge I want.” He bent his elbows, lowering himself over me. My breathing grew shorter and blood roared in my ears. “I can have any…” He paused, eyes flicking from mine to where my necklace charm had fallen down one side and landed on the mattress. His eyes widened, as if he seemed to just barely realize how close we were. “This is…” His elbows straightened, pushing him higher above me. “I’m… sorry.” He started to gently pick his way off of me. “I’m gonna let you go now.”

He released his grip on my wrists. I rolled them and flexed my hands to get some feeling back into them.

He swung his leg to get off me and used it to step off the bed. “I should go,” he said breathlessly. “I’m so sorry. I’ll grab my T-shirt next week.” He strode to the door of my bedroom while I sat on the bed, dumbfounded, jaw hanging open.

As he opened the door, I bounded off the bed.

I caught him before he could reach for his stuff on my couch, grabbing his wrist. “What was that about?” I demanded. He refused to turn and look at me.

“Just… let it go,” he said, shaking his head. He tried to pull his wrist out of my hand, but I grabbed it with my other one to hold him in both.

“No! What the hell is going on with you?”

“Leave it alone,” he growled out.

“I can’t! What happened in there that made you shut down? What did I do wrong?”

He whirled. “It’s nothing to do with you. It’s me!”

“Then tell me what it is!” I shouted.

Jason grabbed me by the shoulders, wrenching out of my grip so hard my fingers ached. He spun me around and pinned me by the shoulders against my front door. A muscle worked in his jaw as he clenched it before fixing me with a crystal blue stare. “It’s just… seeing you beneath me—all flushed pink and panting, your eyes hooded and staring up at me… seeing you like that… I just felt myself fall in love with you!”

If he hadn’t pinned me against the door I probably would have fallen over from shock. My mouth definitely fell open. “Jay… I…” I breathed.

Still holding my shoulders, he spun me around so I was away from the front door and moved to shove his jeans into his backpack.

Before he could, I threw reservation to the wind.

I grabbed his shoulders, forced him to turn and face me, moved my hands to the back of his head, and pulled him down to kiss me.

Our mouths crashed together hard enough to make my front teeth ache, but I didn’t care. My heart leapt into my throat and I almost melted as his arms circled my waist, pulling me closer, so our torsos were pressed against each other. My eyelids closed as I sighed. We were both breathing hard, air from our noses warm against each other’s skin. Holding my waist in both arms, he turned and pinned my back against the door again.

“Oh, God…” Jason breathed against my lips. He kissed me again and I moaned. He reached one hand up and tangled it in my hair. He could palm the back of my skull as though it were a basketball. His fingers were warm against my scalp.

When he pulled his lips away from me, I groaned quietly in complaint.

“We—we should not be doing this,” he whispered, shaking his head. The white streak at the front of his hairline flopped back and forth with the movement. I wanted to reach my fingers up and twist that streak between them. But I didn’t.

“Why not?” I replied, just as breathless.

“We’re friends. This isn’t us.”

“You just said that you just barely fell in love with me.”

“I did. But I’m not willing to ruin the good thing we’ve had going on here for six years.” He panted, shoulders heaving up and down, as he reached up and took my hands away from his face, gently dragging them by the wrists. “You’ve been the best friend I’ve been able to keep longer than a year or two. I can’t… I can’t just… this isn’t about what I want.”

“I’m the one who kissed you,” I pointed out. “What does that say about what I want?”

“It’s not just about wants,” he said. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Us being together is dangerous? To whom?”

“To you.”

“Why would it be dangerous for me?” I pushed.

He let me go and spun away from me. He looked like he wanted to shout and rage—maybe throw something—but he just clenched his fists and panted.

When he finally turned back to face me, he’d calmed down a little. “It’s dangerous… because… I… oh, Bruce is gonna kill me…” he whispered, shaking his head again. “Because I… am… the Red Hood.”

Two big confessions in one night. I felt a little dizzy and remembered to breathe.

“Red Hood. As in… the vigilante. And… the crime boss.”

“Vigilante, yes. Crime boss days are behind me. I was newly-back-from-the-dead and not in a stable mindset when I became a crime boss.” I decided not to ask about that. He huffed and sat on my coffee table, instead of the sofa, rubbing his temples. “And I wasn’t going to tell you about it, by the way. You’re the only normal friend I have right now. But it’s too dangerous for us to be together. If any of the rogues in this city knew I had someone I cared about as much as I care about—as much as I love you… you would not survive to the end of the year.”

I crossed from the front door to the sofa and sat on the sofa cushion closest to him, setting my hand on his knee. “Jay, I… I’m willing to risk it. To be with you. We just need to be careful—”

“I’m not willing to lose you. I would have been terrified before tonight if someone worse than me caught you. Knew you were just a friend. Now, though? Now, I don’t know what I’d do if you were captured, and that scares me even more. I saw you under me in that bedroom and I saw a future that was good—for the first time in the nine years since I was resurrected—but I can’t let that be my future. For your sake.”

I bit down on my tongue to keep from shouting. But I did tighten my grip on his knee hard and snap, “Get over yourself, Todd. You’re not the only one who gets to make this decision.”

“No, but apparently I’m the only one who can see things objectively enough to make the wise decision.”

It was my turn to want to throw something. “Jason. Peter. Todd. I don’t care about the danger. And I know you do. But do you know what it’d do to me, knowing that you love me and I feel the same, but you won’t let me be yours? Do you know what it would do to you? I know what it would do to me. It would eat me up inside day in and day out. I would sit here dying for you, waiting for you to come to your senses and carry me back into that bedroom to stay in there all night. But you never would. And I would just wait. I’d never date anyone else. If I tried, all I’d be doing was wishing they were you.

“You and I are cut from the same cloth. Some people are just born to sacrifice. To give up what they want—what they need—for the sake of other people. It’s the only choice we’re ever given, so it’s the choice we make over and over and over again. Sometimes people will split others into Givers and Takers. Those of us born to sacrifice are a step beyond even Givers. We’re the ones who give up everything for others. I’ve done it with my family my entire life. Everyone else always wanted so strongly that my only option was to give up my own. You’re the same, I see it every time I see you with your brothers.

“Jason, it’s time for us to Take. It’s time to let life give us something. This is the moment to be selfish. To put aside Batman and his zealous crusade for one damn moment and let yourself be happy.” I dug my fingernails into his knee through his sweats. “Be selfish for once, Jason.”

He finally looked up at me, eyes meeting mine. “I can’t,” he said.

I clamped my mouth shut and sighed loudly through them. “Yes, you can. If you’re waiting for my consent, you’ve more than got it. I’m telling you now to give yourself consent to want. To take. Get over this hold out that a double life has on you and—mmph!”

He cut me off by slamming his lips against mine, surging off the coffee table and straddling me on the sofa. I moaned and wrapped my arms around his neck. He pulled me to one side, sitting on the sofa and guiding me to straddle himself. His hands were splayed over my shoulder blades. I twisted his white streak through my fingers. Our breath shuddered in and out of our lungs. I parted my lips slightly and ran the tip of my tongue over the seam of his lips.

They opened immediately and let me in. I sighed out my nose. “Please ruin our friendship,” I breathed into his lips. “This is so much better.”

He snickered out his nose, smiling. “Does your consent to let me want you include me carrying you back into that bedroom and neither of us leaving until dawn?” He nodded toward my room.

My body shivered. Not from cold. Excitement. Electricity.

“Definitely,” I said breathlessly.

His hands slid from my shoulder blades and down to my legs. He held them and stood up. I hooked my ankles around his back, locking my arms’ grip around his neck.

He carried me to my room, kicked the door shut, and laid me gently on the messed-up bedsheets and disarrayed pillows. On all fours above me, my legs around his waist, he kissed me. Gently, at first, but he quickly grew hungry. His hands worked their way under my shirt, callused palms scraping slightly against my skin.

“Still okay with this?” His voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper.

“Oh yeah,” I breathed, unable to even speak loud enough to be heard from inches away.

He smiled. Wicked delight flickering on his face. “Well, get ready for me to call you mine. Because I am all yours.”

I smiled. “I’m yours, Jason.”

[love-pyramus]

Crow’s Backstory

Yeah I did it! So, Amanda is Crow’s deadname, hence why it’s referenced-

Tw: Crow gets kicked out, fights, mentions of cancer and character death from cancer, some sad shit, and hospitals

WC: 1487

Tagging: @joshkatz @thatsmycigarbutyoucanborrowit @am-i-the-boy-you-dreamed-of

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

The steady beeps from the heart monitor would’ve driven Crow insane if they weren’t steady like they were. The whines were like a metronome, and they used the tempo to play their moms favorite song. She was asleep in the hospital bed next to them, and Crows hands moved along the frets, each chord echoing in the large hospital room. 

The surgery wouldn’t get rid of their moms cancer, they knew that, and that her disease was terminal, so the thirteen year old wanted to spend every minute they could with their mom. But they needed to tell her. They wanted her to know the real them. Her child, and not her daughter.

Rebecca Alvarez slowly woke up to the sound of guitar chords playing, and she smiled a bit. The tune was familiar, and she quietly hummed along, smiling as she heard Crows quiet laugh. 

When the music stopped, Rebecca looked to her kid, smiling. “Mom...I have something to tell you.” 

Rebecca tilted her head, gesturing quietly for Crow to continue. They took a deep breath before speaking. 

“I’m not Amanda. I’m not a girl. I’m non-binary, and my name is Crow.” 

Rebecca smiled, and nodded, mustering the strength to speak. 

“You’re still my baby. This doesn’t change anything Crow. I still love you more than you know.” 

Tears began to roll down their face, dripping around the creases their smile made. 

Though one year later, tears fell for Rebecca Alvarez in a different way. Sobs in an otherwise quiet graveyard, a fourteen year old sitting in front of a gravestone, their dad standing to the side. The rain was pouring, soaking the teen as they sat, mixing with the tears on their face as they reached and traced their fingers over the engraving of a crow on the gravestone, and they look at the necklace in their hand. It was a crow, Rebecca's way of showing her support for her child in a hostile environment. 

Crow put it on with trembling hands, moving to sit in the car, ignoring the towel offered to them by their dad. The only relief they were given on that day was the face of Alex waiting on their steps, and they sobbed more into the shoulder of their friend. 

“I know Crow...I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” 

Two years later, Crow lost another parent. 

“Amanda-” “How many times do I have to tell you! That isn’t my name!” 

The shouts echoed through the house, and sixteen year old Crow ducked as a piece of china was thrown. Their eyes went wide as they stared at their dad, and he stormed forward, nearly pulling the necklace off Crows neck. They let out a yelp as the chain dug into their skin, and they mentally begged it not to break. Their dad switched his grip to their wrists, pinning them above them, forcing them against the wall. 

“So long as you live under my roof, young lady, you will obey my rules. And since you didn’t, you can leave. Now.” 

Crow didn’t hesitate, they wrenched their hands from their dads grip, and walked out the door, trying to ignore the trickling of blood from where the necklace had cut. 

The sun began to set, and Crow looked around, letting out a sigh. They had about 40 dollars in cash on them, but that wouldn’t get them much. The homeless shelters weren’t kind to youth, and they feared they’d be sent back to their dad. That wasn’t a home, and they had known it. It hadn’t been a home since their mom had died. 

So immediately, they turned towards the cemetery, walking the familiar path to the gravestone, and laying down beside it a the stars shone. 

“Hi mom...I miss you. Dad...I came out to him like I said I would, but he kicked me out..”

Warms tears fell from Crow’s face as they turned to lay on their side, and they let out a shaky sob, pulling at the weeds that had grown.

“I miss you mom...come back! Please, god, come back! I need you…”

Nearly a year had passed since they had been kicked out, and Crow had gotten used to life on the street. The fights they got in were never easy, but after a month they had learned how to win. Sure, there were bruises every so often, and nights where they couldn’t move after fights, and most days they went without eating, but they had convinced themself it was better than their fathers house. 

The alley they were in smelled of smoke, and each gunshot made them jump, but they were banking on the old men ignoring them. It had worked so far, and they’d managed to take about 70 dollars from the three wallets they’d managed to grab. They tossed the wallets away from their hiding place, letting the men come back and find them later. 

As the last round of men went into the range, Crow was counting the money they had stolen and yelped as they were pushed over. They shoved the money into their pocket, zipping it quickly before kicking. The man who had tackled them was older, though Crow couldn’t pinpoint his age. They yelped again as they were tackled, and kicked again, failing as the man grabbed them. 

The man grabbed their wrists in one hand, pinning them against the hard concrete, and Crows breath caught in their throat. The mans face distorted, looking like their dad. They only realized where they were when a piece of glass was forced into their cheek and dragged along, causing them to scream. The sound was masked by the round of gunshots from inside the range, and Crow weakly kicked. 

Their foot found its mark, and the man rolled off them. They shakily got up, bolting out of the alley, towards Alex’s house. They knew he’d probably be awake, so they ran into the yard, slumping against the door before knocking. When Alex opened the door, Crow backed up, even though Alex’s look showed only kindness and concern. 

“Please- let me in-”

Their breathing was laboured as Alex did so, and they walked in, turning to look at Alex before their legs went out and world turned black.

When they woke up, there was a pad on their face, and they recognized the beeping from the monitor next to them. 

They sat up, quickly looking around, noticing Alex next to them. 

“Crow! Oh thank god you’re awake-” Alex goes to hug them, but at the contact, Crow lashes out, and their eyes go wide. 

Alex backs up, noticing the fear. 

“Hey, it’s alright. We called your dad, he’s gonna be here soon-” “No! No, don’t let him come here! No!”

Their panic became even more visible, and Alex nodded, quickly texting June. 

When Crow was discharged, they went with Alex, back to the Claremont-Diaz household. They were on edge the entire time, only allowing Alex near them, and even then it was just to bring food and water. 

Two weeks passed, with Crow barely talking to anyone, spending most of the day sitting on the porch. Alex walked the few blocks to the Alvarez house, knocking on the door. 

“Hi...is Amanda here?” Alex hated the way the name sounded, and got even more pissed at their dads response.

“She’s out right now. What do you need?” 

“I was wondering if I could borrow her guitar?” 

Crows dad nodded, grabbing the instrument and passing it to Alex, who took it quickly and walked back to his house. He sat on the couch and tuned it quickly before walking back to Crow on the porch. 

“Hey Crow? I got something for you.” 

He offered them the guitar, watching them hesitate before taking it, and letting him drop the pick in their hand. 

They began practicing chords before switching to a song before beginning to sob.

Alex takes the guitar from their lap and puts it down, sitting next to them. He carefully put his arm around them, and they sobbed into his shoulder. 

“Dad kicked me out just over a year ago and I was on the streets- I slept with mom a lot, and- and-” they gasp, letting out a sob before trying to speak. “I-I had to do things to survive, I stole things, I-I couldn’t just- and I had to fight- there were other kids-” 

Crow’s rambling was near nonsensical, but Alex sat and listened through it all. 

“And-and the last fight, when I came here- he pinned me- he pinned me just like my dad did- and I couldn’t breathe- he took glass and cut my face-”

Crow’s sobs were loud, and Alex continued to softly hush them, his hand softly going to play with their hair. 

“This okay?” 

Crow nodded, and Alex continued to rock them until they fell asleep. 

“I’ve got you...I’ve got you.”

[goodbyecringe]

(Un)Natural Selection Chapter 8

Éponine

As soon as I felt myself falling asleep I could feel Elise jostling my shoulder to try to wake me up. I had no desire to leave the bed even if it meant not getting to meet with Prince Julien.

“But Lady Éponine, all of the other ladies have been awake for half an hour,” she said with her large eyes.

The panic that went through my heart made me jump out of the bed and run into the bathroom hyperventilating.

“Lady Éponine, you’re allowed to sleep in because your routine is far less complicated than the other girls,” Miriam laughed, opening the doors to my large closet.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked as she pulled me inside of the closet.

“Some of the other ladies have a hair and makeup routine that takes 3 hours while you should only take an hour and a half at the latest,” she said, pulling dresses.

She seemed to be in a significantly better mood this morning. I could see Laila pulling out brushes and combs at the vanity while Elise began to make my bed. It seemed that they worked as a well oiled machine. Miriam was the captain because of her seniority while Elise appeared to be the youngest and responsible for doing the more mundane tasks.

“Which dress would you prefer to wear, Lady Éponine?”

In her hands were two of the most spectacular and extravagant dresses I had seen in my entire life. There was a deep maroon dress that appeared to fall off the shoulder with a thick satin skirt and a sleeveless, tight-fitted grey dress that seemed to glimmer in the sunlight.

“We decided to base your wardrobe on Earth tones. Most of the other girls will be going for light or deep colors to make individual statements, but no one has a neutral wardrobe. Neutral doesn’t have to mean boring if done correctly,” she smiled, obviously very proud of herself.

In the end I decided on a green dress that was tucked away behind the dozen dresses that I had. I could see the disdain in Miriam’s face when I pulled it down and I could understand why. The dress was some shade of dark green with a full, but not overly large skirt. The top half covered my shoulders and collarbone and even though it was the simplest dress in my closet, it was the nicest thing I had ever worn. Laila braided my hair into a loose and thick bun that was held up by several dozen pins. Finally, under the watchful eye of Miriam, Elise did my makeup. She narrated what she was putting on my face and what it would do for my appearance.

“This toner has a natural papaya exfoliant that will help to brighten your complexion,” she sang as she spritzed a clear liquid onto my face.

“What’s papaya?” I asked as she picked up one of the many bottles on the vanity.

“It’s a fruit. Don’t they have them in Allens?”

“Probably, my family can only usually only afford rice, beans, bread and pasta,” I said shrugging.

“Well I’m sure the palace could get as many papayas as you could eat if you got the Prince to ask,” she giggled.

When my makeup was finished I stood up and looked in the mirror and in the end, I still looked like me. A much better version of the me that entered the palace not even 24 hours ago, but that was aside from the point. Justine and I both agreed that I didn’t want to make it look like I was trying too hard or I would quickly become the least favorite inside and outside of the castle. Before leaving my room, Miriam had me choose my jewelry for the day. There was a golden headband that emulated flowers, a large pair of earrings, golden bands, and several large necklaces.

“You can wear these as statement pieces to perk up your dress,” she said, motioning towards the larger items.

After a heavy scolding, Miriam let me settle for the necklace Justine gave me, a pair of small golden stud earrings, and a gold bracelet. She then laid out a pair of heels covered in rhinestones. The shoes were significantly more comfortable than the ones that I wore last night and the heel was noticeably shorter. Deciding to forgo any form of conflict with Miriam this morning, I put them on gladly. Ten minutes until 8 I was out in the hallway making conversation with Cosette who radiated royalty. She wore an off the shoulder baby blue gown with a layered pearl necklace.

As I looked around the growing group of girls I realized that Miriam had been right when she said everyone would be going for either bright pastels or bold colors. Musichetta Simon came out of her room in what looked to be a plain white wedding dress that glittered when it caught the Sun. Her stylist team had given her at least a foot of red hair extensions that now past her waist. I found myself unable to take my eyes off of her until Claudia came to bring us downstairs.

“Ladies, you all look like you could be princesses this morning,” she said with a frown on her face. It wasn’t hard to tell that she was very upset.

“I would like to point out that only thirty-four of you are joining the Royal Family for breakfast. After supper last night, Miss Lucy decided to neglect the rules and sought out Prince Julien.”

Gasps and whispers immediately overtook the hall. Cosette and I looked at each other and I worried that she was about to cry. Lucy had been one of three Fives selected.

“Please settle down, ladies. Prince Julien had her immediately disqualified from the selection and she was sent home last night. I hope this serves as a lesson to all of you that we take the rules very seriously.”

As she led us downstairs to the Great Hall many girls were giving their opinion on the Lucy situation. Teresa claimed it was a good thing that “the help” had left before the competition even started because it would be shameful for Prince Julien to marry anyone lower than a Three. I looked around the group to see if the other Fives had reacted to what she had said but they were all deep in conversation with other girls. Liberty Cook, a Three that was wheelchair bound from a boating accident when she was younger, said that she had heard the Guards whispering that Lucy claimed to have been tricked by another girl.

I tried to imagine who would already be trying to sabotage the competition this early but the thoughts were immediately pushed out of my head upon entering the Great Hall. There was a small camera crew in the corner waiting to film our first interactions with Prince Julien. We were free to sit wherever we liked, probably because we would be in our seats for a bit. Cosette sat behind me and I decided to sit next to one of the Fives, Alyssa. She smiled and adjusted her large purple skirt.

“Have you ever eaten at a table with so many forks and knives?” She laughed.

“I can definitely say that I’ve never even seen this many forks on a table,” I said looking around for a sign of food.

“Ladies, this morning we will begin our first etiquette lesson. Someone in this room is going to become a princess and she must be able to meet the royal standards for manners. Now, please unfold your napkin and place it on your lap,” Claudia said holding up a cloth napkin and folding it in the air as a guide.

This etiquette lesson was harder than learning any language combined. Periodically Claudia would circle around to Alyssa and me to tell us to straighten our backs and lift our chins. Once I turned around to how Cosette looked and I was immediately intimidated. She handled everything with a grace and ease that made her an obviously strong competitor and a dangerous enemy. If Cosette made her approval of me known then maybe that would allow the Threes and Fours to accept me. Just as I felt my stomach begin to demand food the doors opened to reveal several guards and Prince Julien in tow.

Every girl held her breath and straightened her back when they saw him.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” Claudia said, entering a deep curtsey. He responded in a curt head nod.

“Good morning Claudia and good morning ladies,” he said clasping his hands together in front of him.

“If you don’t mind Claudia I would like to address the women of the Selection for a moment before we proceed,” Claudia took a few steps to the left of the room.

“Ladies, I am eagerly awaiting the chance to interact with you all but first I would like to make several brief points. For starters this is not a well fact but I prefer to be addressed by my surname as Claudia can verify it is a certain formality that I practice. Secondly, as I said on the Report I want this to be a caste-blind Selection so please do not reveal yours or another lady’s caste. If you break this rule there is a strong possibility that your time here at the palace will end,” a hushed whisper fell across the room.

Claudia took a step forward and cleared her throat, immediately silencing any noise.

“Now, I will be speaking with all of you one-by-one in private. I’ll try to keep this as brief as possible as I’m sure you’re all anticipating breakfast more than speaking with me,” he joked, walking towards Liberty inviting her over to a few couches in the corner of the room.

“What are we supposed to talk about?” Alyssa said, panic covering her face.

“I’m sure he’ll ask us about how we’re liking the palace so far and let the conversation go from there,” I guessed as Cosette turned around to whisper with us.

We all talked about our rooms, our maids, and our clothes until Enjolras approached Cosette. He met my eyes and to my continuous surprise, smiled at me.

“If the Lady Éponine would permit, may I please borrow Lady Cosette for a few minutes?” He asked.

I tried not to let my jaw hit the floor.

“Luckily for you, Your Highness, the Lady Éponine will permit it,” I said, straightening my back.

He took Cosette’s arm and turned towards the couches and Alyssa hit my arm.

“What was that about?” she demanded, looking visibly hurt.

“I- I don’t know, it was probably just some joke he made because we were all talking,” I stammered, not daring to tell her about our brief encounter.

“Sure,” she said staring at Enjolras and Cosette interacting.

While we watched Cosette smile with her large eyes the camera crew approached the two of us. Alyssa quickly recovered from any distress she may have been experiencing before their presence. They asked us how we were enjoying the palace and Alyssa talked about all the beautiful pieces of art since she herself was a painter. The only thing I could think of was the food, since I couldn’t remember the last time I had a meal like last night.

When Cosette returned from her conversation with Enjolras she looked like she had won the lottery.

“What did you talk about?” Alyssa asked.

“Well we started talking about how beautiful the palace was and we talked about home and how I missed our garden, and he asked me if I’d like to tour the garden before dinner this evening,” she whispered.

Before I could think about congratulating her, I could see a mass of blonde curly hair approaching me and I stood to approach him. I remembered Justine’s advice in the back of my head and after meeting all the girls, I realized how right she was. All of these girls would start with the same strategy, immediately planning on making Enjolras fall in love with them.

“The strongest love happens when you least expect it. I married my best friend,” I remembered her saying as she looked at Victor.

Enjolras held out his arm as we walked towards the couches.

“In case you need help walking in those heels,” he offered.

“Thank you but I am in much more sensible shoes now,” I declined, holding up the skirt of my dress so he could see my short heels.

“I’m surprised you’re not barefoot after your run last night,” he whispered as we sat down.

“I would have come in my slippers but my maids would have thrown a fit,” I laughed.

“How are you getting along with them?” He asked leaning back in his seat.

I hadn’t seen him do that with another girl. Was he comfortable with me because he’d already spoken to me? Or was he comfortable because he had already decided to kick me out?

“Let’s just say that if it weren’t for them I would be sitting here in a nice dress without any makeup and my hair a mess.”

“Good, that’s why we keep them around,” he said absentmindedly. He must have seen my reaction because he quickly scrambled to make up for what he had just said.

“Not that that’s the only reason why we keep them around. Many of our servants have families that they need to support and we have a respectably low turnover rate as our average servant works here for upwards of ten years,” he began to ramble.

“I understand, that’s just how the caste system works. It was just like this in the Old Middle East and many people accepted it,” I said looking at my hands.

“How do you know about that?” Enjolras asked sitting up.

“I’ve read some books on how different religions have affected the structure and function of the government.”

“Well you must know that my views on the caste system do not reflect the current state of Illeá. I’m sure you know that I have invited a group of anti-caste sympathizers to stay in the palace.”

“The Friends of the ABC?”

“Yes, after dinner this evening we’ll be holding a meeting in the Men’s Room. If this is something you’re interested in you are more than welcome to join us,”

“Do you ask every girl to join in your political escapades?”

“No, I’m afraid most girls prefer walks around the garden and bowling.”

The way he said it made it sound like he wasn’t looking forward to his date with Cosette.

“Well everyone came to become your wife, not your political alley. They probably aren’t thinking of the responsibilities of an entire country, they’re just thinking about how they can win over one boy. ”

“You’ve turned out quite different then what I expected Lady Éponine,” he said, writing something on a notepad.

“And what did you expect of me?” I asked as a butler leaned over to whisper something to Enjolras.

“Terribly sorry, but it appears we’ve gone quite a bit over our allotted time,” he said standing to button his maroon waistcoat.

“Will you be answering my question?” I asked, standing.

“Will you be coming to the meeting tonight?” He asked, his face serious.

“I haven’t found a reason not to yet,” I said, locking as with him as I curtsied.

“Then all of your questions will be answered tonight,” he bowed.

As I walked back to my seat I could feel the eyes of the other Selected girls staring at me. I tried to focus solely on Cosette’s beaming face, excited to hear why our conversation ran so long. Alyssa walked past me, not even waiting for Enjolras to approach her. I could see her shake as she curtseyed to him before she sat down on the edge of the couch.

“Well? What did you talk about?” Cosette asked eagerly.

I don’t know what but I felt very compelled to lie to her even though she had been so kind to me. Maybe she secretly remembered me and was waiting until she could use something against me in the competition.

“Oh we just talked about movies and how I’ve never been to a movie theatre. He thought that it was a crime and demanded that we watch a movie together after dinner,” I laughed, realizing that I was shaking.

“Look at us,” Cosette whispered, “we got the first two dates! Oh you must help me pick out the perfect dress for tonight!”

I let Cosette talk about dresses and hair until the last girls had finished their conversations with Enjolras. Alyssa came back beaming, but wouldn’t elaborate on any details. She probably didn’t trust either of us either. Finally, when I had begun to hallucinate the smell of a warm breakfast, Enjolras went to the front of the room.

“Ladies thank you for your patience! Please proceed to the Banquet Room and enjoy your breakfast. If I asked you to stay behind, please remain seated.”

I looked around at the girls that were still sitting and noted that Alyssa was one of them. Maybe it was some special group date with Enjolras during lunch. He did seem pretty eager to make himself busy with us. When we transitioned to the Banquet Room we were greeted by the King and Queen who were reading the morning paper with their coffee. We collectively curtseyed, sat at our assigned seats, and waited for Enjolras to come back.

We stood to curtsey and sat back in our seats, presumably waiting for the other girls to join us. We all waited in silence until the Butlers began to pour orange juice into our glasses.

“He must have sent them home,” Musichetta exclaimed from across the table.

While Cosette looked around the room to count I stared at Enjolras. He was rushing to lather a piece of toast in jam, and appeared unbothered by his elimination.

“There’s twenty-six of us, he sent home eight girls,” Cosette whispered.

[rogmobile]

I’ll Be Home for Christmas

Roger Taylor x fem!Reader or Ben!Roger x fem!Reader

note: i literally got this idea while listening to the song and looking at an ornament on my tree..anyway enjoy grammatical mistakes, incorrect punctuation, etc. enjoy my trash!

Word Count: 2.3k

Snow fell soundlessly on the ground outside as you slept. Your chest lifting and falling as air swelled and deflated from your lungs. Dreams coming and going, yet you wouldn’t remember the blissful thoughts when you woke up. In your peace you were oblivious to the phone that rang out in the kitchen. It rang seven separate times. Each call ringing as much as it could, begging for you to pick up, before giving up. Hours later your nose flooded with the bitterly enticing scent of coffee, but it wasn’t the same scent you had grown to love. With a blanket wrapped around your shoulders and the impostor coffee in hand you sat watching the snow fall with only one worry on your mind: Roger.

Your boyfriend was the drummer for the band Queen. He was the best of the best, extremely talented and it made you feel nothing but proud to see how far he’s come. All the way from bar gigs when the band was still Smile and Tim was still in the picture. Roger was planned to come home this evening, Christmas Eve, but you didn't hear from him with an update. They should have left JFK airport last night, but you had not idea that had not happened. Trying to keep your mind off of it you get back to the finishing touches to your elaborate decoration after your coffee.

The decently sized tree, you dragged up to you and Roger’s flat on your own, was spotted spotted with mostly decorative ornaments with a few sentimental ones here and there. Like the one you had bought for your first Christmas together. However the top of your beautiful evergreen was bare. Because you had been waiting for Roger. It was attempt to birth a tradition of placing the angel on the pine when together. Fairy lights twinkled and danced throughout the pinewood branches causing the sparkles on the tree skirt to reflect the light, sending it in different directions, making it appear as though the bottom of the tree was on fire from the divine glow.

Lights were delicately strung around the windows in the living room. Their colourful glow illuminating spots of the white window sills in pockets of blue, red, green, yellow, and white around the large light bulbs. You seemed to be running out of things to keep your mind away from Roger, but that’s when you remembered you had yet to hang Roger’s favorite decoration. Mistletoe. It wasn’t truly his all time favorite, it was more of a joke between the two of you.

In the studio the boys were becoming miserable. It was drab and the sleet and streets full of graying snow seemed to be following them inside, as it was the last thing they’d see before being in the studio hours on end. Of course they loved what they were doing but the holidays were upon them and that’s enough to make everyone a little stir crazy. You took it upon yourself to bring them all coffee and tea in the afternoons during your breaks at work. It helped lift spirits for about two days. You had had enough of it because it put Roger in a mood every evening he’d come home. He hated spending long periods of time on the same part of a project the band was working on, especially when they wouldn’t get anywhere with it. He liked results. So having enough you went all out on your next drink visit. You showed up with a box of goodies and humming Christmas tunes. You handed out orders, which you had come to know by heart, to their corresponding consumers as they looked at the box with anticipation. Within a few minutes, colourful lights were draped against the top of the walls. Then you pinned mistletoe over the center of the door frame. Smiling at you with a love so pure and an overwhelming sense of gratefulness Roger stepped into the doorway next to you. His hands found your hips with great ease as he pulled you into a kiss. Pulling away from the sweet kiss, Roger’s hands cupped you face and squeezed your cheeks together, smearing a goofy smile across your lips. He smiled back at your cutely distorted smile before asking, “What did I do to deserve you?”

The routine kiss under the mistletoe quickly came into play. It became such a second nature to you both that at one point John decided to take the mistletoe down to see if either of you would even notice. You didn’t. The guys gave up trying to get you both to catch on, so they just told you. It became a joke between pretty much everyone in the studio, but it never stopped the two of you. Because not kissing in that doorway before you would leave would’ve been a crime.

The memory of Roger kissing you and being with you Christmas past wasn’t helping you temporarily forget how much you truly missed him, so you quickly busied yourself again by wrapping some more presents. An in depth book on star theories and constellation origin stories for Brian. A shirt with an eye catching animal print that was cut so low the neckline would rest below one’s sternum for Freddie. Then you folded, creased, and taped wrapping paper around a small box of bright blue, orange, and purple pecdeliums that were engraved to read “Deacy” for John. The boys had planned to all get together for a family Christmas feast and present exchange, which gave you a little bit more time to wrap presents. It gave you a little hope to think that they’d be home in time for the get together to recieve their presents as planned. You had already wrapped Roger’s gifts for the next morning. Admittedly you had gone a little overboard. When shopping you weren’t able to choose what to get him causing you to get him a few necklaces of different lengths, yet another fur coat to add to his growing collection, and a hat that was made of at least six different fabrics. Placing the last of the gifts under the douglas pine, you stepped back with the hope you would feel like everything was normal. But it wasn’t. Roger would’ve been wrapping his warm arms around your waste as he handed you a cup of hot cocoa while humming into your neck about how you had out done yourself with the beautiful decoration job yet again. But you were practically freezing. Trying to keep the tears gathering in your eyes from gliding down your cheeks you turned to the kitchen to busy your hands and keep your mind off of your missing other half. It didn’t work. Not only did you miss Roger, but you had something to tell him. Something that was going to change your lives forever.

About three months ago Queen had been on the East Coast stopping in all the big cities: New York, Philadelphia, Boston, Baltimore, D.C. and so many more. But it was a New York show you were flown out for. It was an unexpected surprise for Roger. He really showed you just how much he had already missed you, even though they were only on tour just over a month. Saying goodbye two days later was extremely difficult for the both of you. Because you both knew that between work and money not permitting it was the last time you’d see each other before their planned return for the holidays. Once home your time of the moth had rolled around, but was it was late which wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for your body. Then another month passed by initiating your call to the clinic. Time dragged by before your appointment. It seemed from that phone call on everything had been going so slow it was practically in reverse. Feeling the cold burn of the gel hint your lower abdomen you couldn’t help but feel as though you were watching a film. You stared blankly at the tech, not taking your eyes off of him for a split second, as if you were searching for the answer before anyone even told you. After informing you a doctor would be in soon to tell you your results the tech left. Time was dragging again, but within a few true minutes the doctor appeared. He sat next to you, looking you directly in the eye, and congratulated you with a smile.

Without noticing your hands had traveled down down to your stomach that didn’t show much of a swell yet. There was no holding it back anymore, and tears quietly spilled from your eyes. It was Christmas Eve you were alone, confused, a little frightened, and you missed Roger. You look back to your pine tree for some comfort and your eyes fall to the ornament you bought when you were told the news. It was a little bear propped up on the shoulders of a big bear that had a shirt reading “Best Daddy”. It got a sad smile out of you as you turned to go to sleep after admitting defeat that Roger wouldn’t be home for Christmas. You dragged your feet with every step you took in your retreat to the bedroom when there was a irritatingly urgent rapping at the door. Your lack of expectancy kept your hopes low and convinced you that there was no way in hell it was the only person you wanted to see. With sluggish steps and a few annoyed grumbles at the repeated knocking you opened the door. Before you even looked at who the visitor was your balance was knocked backwards by a large force. Your eyes came into focus but only to be obscured by a fluff of blonde hair. Roger. His arms were tightly wrapped around you as if he feared to lose you. His lips rapidly moved across your lips, cheeks, and then trailed down your neck in a rush of excitement. You tried to keep up, but your brain still had not processed that Roger was really there in front of you. He pulled away, eyes inspecting you with great importance like he had forgotten how you looked.

“God, I’ve missed you!” Roger beamed.

“Roger?” you let out in a breath like a prayer, as if to ask for him to truly be there. His hand found the small of your back and the other rose to the back of your head pulling you into his chest. You breathed him in. The harmonious blend of cigarettes, that cologne you loved, and the familiar musk and slight spice of his deodorant that had faintly worn off on his journey. It was intoxicating. Sliding his grip to your hand he leads you into the living room. He scanned the room, covered in decorations, causing his eyebrows to disappear under his bangs above his scintillating blue eyes.

“I’m sorry I’m so much later than you expected, (Y/N). I tried calling yesterday but Brian reminded me that it would’ve been one in the morning here.” Roger explained while inspecting the tree

“What happened?” You inquired following him around the tree your hand clasped in his with a loving squeeze.

“They delayed the flight because of weather, but the few flurries didn’t really cause an issue in the end. Did you lose the angel?” he prodded with a questioning tilt of his head. You had almost forgotten all about your goal of starting a tradition upon Roger’s arrival.

“No I didn’t lose it,” you glower at him jokingly. “I was waiting for you. I wanted you to be here.” a smile crept across your face with your eyes twinkling as you grabbed the angel and handed it to Roger. Turning back to the tree he stretched up and situated it atop of the pine. He began to shift his weight evenly back on to his heels when he froze. You made to ask him if he was alright when he spoke. “(Y/N)?” his voice faltered, eyes locked on the evergreen, and swallowed hard. The ornament. He let out a croak from deep in his throat as he couldn’t formulate any words. Your eyes widened and your lips parted slightly standing in partial shock. This wasn’t how he was supposed to find out. You had gone over countless versions of this conversation in your head, but now that you were actually having it you were at a loss for words.

“Roger,” you finally managed. Taking in a deep breath that seemed to hitch and get stuck in your lungs. “I’m pregnant.” you exhaled surprising yourself with the announcement. If he wasn’t already motionless before he sure as hell was now. His face held a very calm expression until his eyes slowly left yours to land on your stomach. After just a few seconds his expression melted and a smile crept across his lips as his eyes softened. In one swift motion his arms were around you once more and he let out cheers loud enough to annoy the neighbors. He spun you around and the weight that had been on your shoulders for the past few weeks disappeared in Roger’s arms. The release of pressure that had been weighing you down, pushed tears down your cheeks in steady streams. Roger placed you down gently and apologized thinking he hurt you, but you reassured him you were as happy as you could ever be.  Falling to his knees he threw his arms around your waist, pulled you in as close as he could get you, and placed his forehead against your stomach. Your fingers ran through his blonde lock making him hum a reflection of the same euphoric joy that was coursing through your veins. Tears continued down your cheeks, but you were far from sad. Anything but, exactly. The sense of excitement, bliss, and comfort of Roger finally being home is something you wouldn’t trade for the world.

[balancoire]

Fandom: Tales of Vesperia

Estelle/Rita, fairytale AU for @talesfemslashweek

Day Three: Storybook

Once again I descend into my favorite genre: AU hell

Rita thought that being held captive by a dragon would a little more...exciting. It would give her more alone time to read and work on her experiments. No more servants or advisers or other nobles telling her that it was time to get dressed, time to attend court, time to sit in on another meeting... Blah, blah, blah.  

Who knew being princess could be so tiring? She had almost no time to herself now that she was nearly an adult and preparing to take Aspio's throne.

And then came the Dragon, who demanded the kingdom's princess and riches in exchange for their safety.

Rita, eager for a little change of pace, quite willingly gave herself up.

Now she was being held hostage in a dingy old fortress on the outskirts of her father's territory. Her room was nicely furnished with the necessities: a bed, desk, torches and the like. But there were no books or blastia for her to mess with, and the Dragon refused to bring her any.

Instead the Dragon gave her a notebook filled with blank paper halfway through her second week – something to shut her up, she supposed. She tried her hand at journaling and hated it.

Hey Journal, she wrote the first day. This feels really stupid. Never mind.

Her only option was to sit at the picture window and watch the world go by.

Which might have been fine...if there was anything to look at. This corner of the territory hadn't been used for ages; the Dragon told her that a war was waged here centuries ago, but the surrounding towns and villages had picked up and left since. No one settled here.

Except the Dragon, of course.

Rita sighed, her chin resting on her open palm. What a bore. The scenery outside her window was the same as always: those stupid fields of grass, a few stupid trees and bushes, a rider off in the distance-

She nearly fell out of her chair. A rider, coming all the way out here? Rita leaned as far out of the window as she dared.

She could see a brown-and-white spotted horse approaching the fortress's outer walls. The person astride the beast was wearing armor, with the helmet pulled down so she couldn't see their face.  

They rode inside – the front gates had fallen to ruin a long time ago, and the courtyard beyond was choked with weeds and crawling ivy. Rita watched as the rider brought their horse to a stop and slid from its back.

Rita ran to the bedroom door and started pounding on it. "Hey, Dragon! Open up or I'm gonna burn this place down!"

"I already know about your knight outside," a voice said, smooth and slithery all at once. "There's no need to shout. You don't have your blastia. You can't use magic."

Rita huffed. It was true – the first thing the Dragon did was take away her blastia and scroll. Oh, what she wouldn't give to shoot a bolt of electricity right in his face...

Her door swung open. The corridor beyond was empty, but she knew the Dragon was somewhere nearby.

"Why don't you come watch the fun?" he asked.

Rita pretended she didn't hear him and went stomping down the hall.  

At the end was the fortress's foyer: a massive, two story room, where Rita could stand at the banister and look down at the first floor below. Like the rest of the building, it had mostly been left to rot, and chunks of the ceiling had fallen in and scattered below.  

The Dragon was in the center of the foyer, resplendent in the rays of sunlight that filtered through the broken roof. But it was the knight that caught Rita's eye: they were short, but walked with purpose and grace. They carried a sword in one hand and a hefty shield in the other.  

"Reveal yourself," the Dragon said.

The knight slowly lifted the helmet from their head. Rita held her breath.

Short, pink hair. The knight shook it out and set her headgear aside. Her eyes were green and angry when she opened them.  

"So you're this Silver Dragon everyone was talking about," the knight said, lifting her sword. "Alexei, why would you do this? Aspio is such a peaceful kingdom. They mean us no harm."

So the Dragon had a real name. That was news to Rita, who never bothered to ask – she never really cared.

"It would be in the Empire's best interest to absorb it. They have some of the best and brightest mages and blastia researchers in the country. What if they were to turn against us?"

"Were you even listening to what she said?"

Rita didn't realize she'd spoken out loud until the words were echoing through the foyer. Alexei and the knight looked up at her. The knight smiled.  

"This doesn't concern you, princess," Alexei said with a wave of his hand. "I'll send you back to your room if you don't behave."

"You're not sending me anywhere. I've had enough of listening to you," Rita said with a scowl. His voice was starting to annoy her. Now if only she knew where he'd hidden her blastia and scroll...

"I've come here to place you under arrest," the knight said to Alexei. "You're wanted by both the Empire and the kingdom of Aspio. You can come with me peacefully, or-"

Alexei drew his sword. The knight threw up her shield just in time to block his strike. Alexei was lightning-fast, and the bisected cape he wore fluttered behind him like a pair of wings. It must've been how he earned his nickname, Rita thought.

The knight gave a mighty heave and pushed Alexei away. He staggered backwards a few steps, his eyes wide, betraying his surprise. The knight's expression was fierce.  

Rita's, on the other hand, was smug. She liked this knight in her shining white and gold armor.  

Alexei wasn't distracted for long. He struck again, harder this time, but the knight hardly budged. She swung back at him and they locked swords.

Rita's fists were clenched on the banister. She saw how Alexei fought when he came for her in Aspio; he took on each of her bodyguards and succeeded. He was fast and strong, but he had to have some kind of weakness.... Something to catch him off guard and give the knight a chance to really pummel him...

That was it! She needed her blastia and scroll. Alexei took them from the start of her kidnapping, but they'd been together for the entire ride out to the fortress – they had to be here in the building somewhere.

Rita ran back down the hall, past her bedroom and deeper into the fortress. Where did Alexei usually sleep? She knew it wasn't far from her room, because most of the other parts of the fortress were either too decrepit or too dangerous to stay in. Her little corner was the safest, based on what she'd seen when he first brought her in.

She checked each of the other rooms she passed. Most of them were empty, though she did find the kitchen – it looked like Alexei had been partway through preparing her lunch. Vegetable slices were strewn across one countertop and a massive pot was stewing over a fire. She ignored it and kept going. She couldn't afford to waste time.  

One of the last doors she found was locked. This had to be it. Rita kicked it a few times, but it was solid, heavy. Her own bedroom door was the same way. It looked like these were the only things in the entire fortress that Alexei had bothered to restore.

Great! Her blastia was probably in there. She growled and ran a hand through her ruffled hair-

Oh. Wait. Her fingers touched something slender and metallic. She pulled out one of the bobby pins that had gotten lost in the tangles. She never actually brushed or styled her hair herself; that was usually left to the one of the handmaids who came to help her dress every morning. It hadn't been touched since the day Alexei broke in and spirited her away.

Rita smiled at that stupid little pin as she shoved it in the lock. She'd have to thank the handmaid when she got home.

Too bad I didn't find this sooner. I could've been out of here weeks ago! Rita thought, angry with herself. Whatever. It didn't matter now. No need to make her feel any stupider than she already did.  

It took a few good minutes of effort, but Rita managed to pick the lock and pushed the door open.  

Alexei's room was very similar to hers in terms of furnishings: spartan, boring. He didn't seem to have books either, but there was a trunk in the middle of the room. Rita beelined for it and started digging through.

Clothing, rations, a few notebooks with handwriting she could hardly read... Ah-ha! Her scroll and blastia were at the bottom. She'd never been happier to see them in her entire life.  

The blastia was affixed to a necklace; she wound it around her neck as she raced back to the foyer. She could hear Alexei and the knight still fighting. Rita positioned herself back at the banister and started unrolling the scroll.

Things weren't looking as promising as they had before. Both the knight and Alexei were looking more tired, worn down. The knight's hair was sticking to the sides of her face. Alexei was similarly disheveled, but his swings were still strong. The knight was doing everything in her power to fight him back – and Rita could see with a tiny thrill that Alexei's left arm was bleeding from a massive cut.  

"Hey!" she shouted, scroll unfurled in her hands. "Up here, Dragon!"

He quirked his head, but the majority of his attention was focused on the knight. "Princess, if you-"

A bolt of lightning crackled down from the glyph above Rita. It smashed into Alexei's chest and threw him to the ground. He drew in a startled breath.  

The knight whipped around to face the princess. Her smile was wide.  

"I've been waiting so long to do that to him," Rita said. She reassumed her defensive stance.  "Come on, let's wrap this up. I'm getting bored."

The knight nodded and charged forward. Alexei tried to stop her, but the lightning strike had left him weak; he barely fended her off. The knight stepped back, her strength renewed, and attacked him again. She stabbed at his side, cutting a red path along his flank.

Rita summoned a plume of fire beside Alexei. See how the Dragon liked that.

He fell to his knees. Tried to push himself back up with his sword and failed. He looked up at the knight, a grimace on his face.

The knight's expression was grim. "I'm bringing you back to the Empire. I'm sure Ioder would like to speak with you about what happened in Aspio."

"He'll see things my way."

"I doubt that," the knight said, barely loud enough for Rita to hear. She'd come down the stairs and was standing just behind them.

The knight secured Alexei with some of the things she'd brought with her – strong rope and shackles to keep him from escaping. When she was finished, she turned to face Rita.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to get here," she said. "We noticed Alexei was missing, but we couldn't figure out where he'd gone until someone broke into his chambers and found the notes."

"It's fine. I was holding my own pretty well," Rita said, hands on her hips.  

A smile pulled at the knight's lips. "Oh? You do seem adept at blastia. You didn't use it on him before?"

Rita thought of the stupid pin. Of forgetting about it for weeks because she never brushed her hair.

"I was just waiting for the right time to strike," she said. "I mean, it was more satisfying to see him being ganged up on."

"Mhm."  

Rita folded her arms over her chest. "So. What's your name?"

"My name is Estellise. I'm a knight from the Empire – you probably guessed that already. It's a pleasure to meet you, Princess Rita," she said, bowing low.

Rita scoffed. "Ugh, please don't call me that. Just Rita is fine. No need to bow either."

"Rita."

Estellise's smile was brilliant. Her cheeks was still flushed from the fight, and she pushed sticky strands of pink hair from her face. She seemed so confident, self-assured... Rita couldn't help but admire her. Not that Rita needed saving, but it was nice of her to lend a hand.

"The Empire's borders are close to the fortress. I was hoping to bring Alexei back to stand trial, but if you'd prefer, I can bring you back to your castle, Your Hi- I mean, Rita."

Rita frowned. She didn't want to go home just yet. The whole reason she'd allowed herself to be kidnapped was because she wanted to do something different, wasn't it? Going back to the castle meant going back to her old routine... Which would probably be so much worse now with her guards and her parents on high alert.

"I want to go back with you," she said, much to Estellise's surprise.

"Are you sure? Don't you want to see your family? I'm sure they're worried sick."

"Eh. I can tell them all about it in a letter home."

"Well..."  

"Hey, I'm the princess here, right?" Rita said with a smirk. "I'm commanding my knight in shining armor to show me the Empire. To strengthen our alliance, and all that boring stuff."

Estellise shrugged her shoulders. "If you insist, Your Highness."

Rita started to correct her – and stopped herself. Whatever.  

She followed her knight back to her horse, and away from the old fortress.  

[kinetic-elaboration]

June 22: ALA 2019

I have just returned from ALA. I am very exhausted and a little dazed and just want to turn off my brain. A few hopefully short notes first.

It was a LOT. Even though I literally just walked in my door ten minutes ago I already feel kind of like it didn’t happen, in a weird way. I was talking to J (who gave me a ride to/from the bus drop off point) and she said she felt the same way, like if someone told her ‘actually it didn’t happen, you did something else on Saturday’ she would believe it. A bit like a fairy tale where the only way the protagonist knows that a fantastical adventure was real is by some memento he has with him upon waking. Except my memento is a half dozen books, several pins, bookmarks, pens, calendars, and posters.

I would describe the ALA Exhibition center as basically a very big bookstore and/or school book fair, except that instead of the books just sitting there for you to look at and potentially buy, they’re being aggressively pushed into your hands for free. They’re also interspersed with various other things, including library furniture, tech, zines, jewelry, research innovations, and on and on. There are tons of people, including tons of people hawking books or author signings, and of course, authors. Everyone wants your attention so there’s lots of, again, free stuff, as well as stuff to do, like spin wheels for prizes or make scarves twirl around in a wind tunnel. There was also a full-sized robot that talked and a robot scanner (I want one) and I think a place for children to build robots. We had to explain many, many times that we worked in a law library and thus had no need for children’s books (I’m not sure if there was actually a high proportion of children’s book publishers, if there seemed to be a lot because they were especially shiny/colorful/aggressive, or if there seemed to be a lot because we started on the left side of the center and moved right, going faster and less energetically as we progressed, and they happened to be concentrated in the section we were most thorough in exploring--but for whatever reason there seemed to be many of them). Even the law-relevant stuff wasn’t really relevant as we had no authority to buy things. Though J and I did advocate for some colorful new Demco carts. (Our supervisor: we have lots of carts! J and I, who use them most: they’re the wrong shape and they squeak and they’re old.)

The law library people mostly stayed as a group, but not entirely. Like we weren’t all at the same booths at the same time, but we tried not to go more than one aisle ahead of each other or get left more than one aisle behind. At least until the end, when L and S were ready to finish and J and I decided to check out the zines (which were awesome--I’m glad we went, especially because those tables were staffed by people more our age.). I also picked up a necklace from a booth we’d seen coming in, because I love necklaces, and I still wanted it at the end of the day so it seemed a fair purchase. It’s a silver cassette player charm.

The challenge of the day, in addition to not being overwhelmed by ALL THE STUFF AND ALL THE PEOPLE AND ALL THE MOVEMENT ALL THE TIME was finding things you did want and grabbing them while avoiding being given too many free things you did not want. I admit I was not anticipating the second problem. I knew there was free stuff but I didn’t realize I’d have to be savvy about not getting stuck with too much. I’d say I was partially successful on both fronts. I didn’t get the ALA bag I wanted because the opportunity to snag it came too early, before I’d quite learned the rules--specifically, that you really should grab just about anything you see lying around because unlike the real world, it is MUCH more likely to be free than for sale--and the Baker and Taylor bags with the cats were already gone by the time I got to their booth. On the other side of things, I ended up with a couple books I could probably do without. They’re signed specifically to me, so I’ll probably have to keep them for eternity lol. Of the total haul, I’d say two look legit interesting, another looks potentially promising but I’m uncertain, one looks kind of bad, and the last (which was the first one I got signed, before I realized that free signed books were going to be thrown at me a lot) is a complete mystery. It’s a non-fiction self-help-y book, which isn’t generally my jam but IDK the author was cute and a millenial and like maybe it’ll be surprisingly good? Of the four of us I would say I showed the most restraint, which I’m proud of.

I also ended up with two calendars, one from NASA which is badass, and one for children’s books that was thrust upon me; a couple pens (I love free pens! haven’t bought a pen in like 4 years!); an eraser that is too cute to use; fewer pins than I thought (not that I use pins for anything... my favorite is 60s themed and says ‘bitchin books��� on it); a feminism poster for B; a NASA poster for myself; a NASA bag that I like and another bag I do not much like; several random bookmarks; a little inktober book about a witch and a pumpkin monster; and of course my necklace.

Is it weird I just listed off my bounty all in a row? NO because this is THE MAIN POINT of the ALA Exhibition Hall I am 100% convinced.

The trips to and from DC were semi-brutal, going there more than coming back because I had to get up so fucking early (5:30!! and the bus was late so we didn’t even leave until 7:15) and every time I semi-fell asleep, I’d wake up with a jolt and a hit of motion-sickness type nausea, which was sooo fun, whereas I actually slept through big chunks of the return. I was on my feet and walking most of the day but it wasn’t that hard. And since I didn’t collect an absolutely excessive number of books, I wasn‘t carrying as much as other people and didn’t find that aspect hard. (We all four brought backpacks, which was a good idea I’d almost discounted because I wasn’t sure if it was, like, real advice?? IT WAS THOUGH NEVER GO TO ALA WITH A SHOULDER BAG.) I did get sort of overwhelmed, as I said. Though even that, it was like... I was fine if I was concentrating on something. I just couldn’t deal with being in the middle of things, uncertain where to go.

We had lunch at a restaurant associated with the hotel attached to the conference center, which was not really my favorite idea, but I think people with heavier bags were unkeen to leave the building, and one person was against going to the Aramark restaurant-area right outside the convention hall, which basically left this sit-down restaurant with slightly inflated prices and minimal options and kind of a long wait time. I inhaled my food so fast that I feel sick thinking about it, and didn’t think it was that good. If I’d been by myself I probably would have grabbed fast food from the window next to the convention hall, but whether this would have been a better or worse thing to do, I’m not sure.

That was a while ago and I haven’t eaten since. I’m not really hungry now but I am starting to lose whatever energy I had when I came in the door and I am also cold... which means I might be hungry and/or under-caffeinated and/or about to enter post-excitement Letdown Mode, or all three. All food seems disgusting to me right now, though, so I’m not sure what I’m going to do about that.

From now until I go to work on Monday I am Officially Relaxing.