#anyway happy birthday to the little fox. I hope he has a nice day and eats something good 💜

[faunandfloraas]

Birthdate analysis // Jeongin - February 8th.

[misslilli]

It'll get better soon guys, don't worry 🤗

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. PG-13. | tagging @today-in-fic | read on AO3

Chapter 24 - It Takes A Village

[ Felix ]

It’s close to December and my favorite holiday is coming up fast, the lights are already up all around town and in school we make paper snowmen and sing Christmas songs. It’s supposed to be the most cheerful time of the year, but people in my life are sad, which in turn also puts a damper on my Christmas spirit.

Dad is not doing very well, he’s working all the time and doesn’t say much, he just goes through the motions of our day. One day, he just forgets to pick me up from school because he has worked through the night and fell asleep at the dining room table during the day.

Principal Skinner can’t reach him or my mom, who is in Europe right now, so he calls my other emergency contact, my grandma. I don’t know what exactly he tells her, but she’s coming all the way from Connecticut and the Principal will drive me home to check on my dad.

I’m excited that grandma’s coming, she’s really awesome! She’s straightforward and very, very strict and doesn’t like to cuddle, much, but her no-nonsense way of running a household may be exactly what we need right now. And she also makes a mean lasagna!

When we get to the house, dad is beside himself, apologizing to us over and over again for falling asleep and he looks a little relieved when Principal Skinner tells him that grandma is coming over to help.

I launch myself at her - I’m permitted exactly two hugs, one hello and one goodbye - when she walks through the door and immediately try to get her to make lasagna for dinner. She sends me up to my room to play for a bit, while she talks to dad and cleans up the mess in the kitchen. Afterwards, she really makes lasagna, yes!

——————

[ Teena ]

When I got the call from Principal Skinner, I was very worried about what I’d find when I got to the house, I’ve been called to pick up the pieces only once before.

It was after Diana left Fox and Felix and what I found then was a disoriented and confused three-year old who kept asking for his mom and a devastated dad and husband, unable to care for his child in his own heartbreak.

Thankfully, it’s not that bad this time, but I can tell that something has happened. Fox has been avoiding my calls for weeks now, only having Felix talk to me over the phone. I know that Sam knows something, but she wouldn’t tell me no matter how hard I pressed.

So the first thing I do when I get to the boys’s house is send Felix off to his room and sit down my son onto the couch to talk.

“Tell me what happened, Fox.”

And he goes on to me the whole story, from the first day of school where he met a woman that had upended both of their lives, to the birthday party - Sam has actually told me about that one, I thought it was a really sweet story - and the Halloween fair right up until the Basketball fiasco and the last time he saw her, where she asked him to give her some space until she has figured some things out.

“What do I do now mom? I hate myself for scaring her off like that and I can’t stop the tailspin of thinking I’m not good enough for her anyway, with that broken mess that’s our family…”

“I’ll tell you what to do now. You give her space like she asked you to and you get your act together in the meantime. Felix needs you to take care of him, it won’t do to wallow in self-pity. And ask yourself this: How can you expect someone to love you if you don’t love yourself? Go see Connie and fix your self-worth issues because you’re a good man and you absolutely deserve someone who makes you happy.”

“Thanks mom, for everything. I’ve already scheduled extra therapy lessons with Connie. You know what makes this whole thing even harder? I have to see her every damn day at school when I pick up Felix.”

“I’ll pick him up from now on. You focus on yourself, without distractions.” Maybe I’ll even get to meet her, I’m fairly curious about this Rainbow Woman myself.

—————

[ Felix ]

At recess in school, everyone’s on their best behavior, holding their collective breaths because Miss Scully is in a bad mood today. Actually, she’s been irritable for the past two weeks, with a very short fuse and absolutely no tolerance for disobedience.

Since her classroom is right next to ours, we can sometimes hear her yell at her kids for something or other and even our class flinches when it happens.

Right now, she’s over at the playground, leaning into two boys who have gotten into a fist-fight over a game of tag and I’m silently glad I’m sitting over here with Miss Anderson. I look up at my teacher, curious.

“Miss Anderson, why is Miss Scully so angry all the time?”

“I can’t tell you, Felix, I’m sorry.”

“Because you don’t know, or because you don’t want me to know?” When she changes the subject pointedly, I know it’s the second one. ‘Ugh, why don’t adults tell children anything, it’s driving me crazy! Dad won’t tell me anything and now this.’

Grandma picks me up again today and on our way to the car, we run into Miss Scully. 'Uh oh, I hope she doesn’t go off on grandma, I don’t think that will go over very well.’ My grandma can be scary sometimes, too!

“Hey Miss Scully, this is my grandma, she’s staying with us for a while now! Grandma, this is Miss Scully, she’s the fourth-grade teacher.”

——————

[ Teena ]

I’m happy to see that my son has raised Felix to be a polite child when he introduces the tiny red-head I’ve heard so much about.

“Grandma’s not actually my name, Felix. I’m Teena Mulder, it’s nice to meet you Miss Scully!” Holding out my hand, I try to seize her up.

Her handshake is firm and her posture is ram-rod-straight, all professional, but her eyes betray her poised exterior, because I can see flashes of sadness when she looks down at Felix. I can only guess that she’s not having an easy time with everything, herself.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Mulder. I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got an appointment to get to. I’ll see you tomorrow, Felix. Goodbye, Mrs. Mulder.”

With that, she’s off to get her bike and Felix breathes a sigh of relief.

“Whew, thank God, she didn’t get mad at you like she got mad at the two boys at recess today.”

I’m a bit puzzled by his odd statement, but on the car ride, he tells me all about the incident in great detail. I get the feeling that these stories are a staple in the boys’s days and I can begin to understand why my son would rather not hear Felix go on and on about what she did and what she said right now.

—————

[ DS ]

My therapist has told me that it has to get worse before it gets better, but this is getting ridiculous. I can’t sleep more than a few hours at night, which leaves me irritable in the morning and with an incredibly short fuse at school, going off on my kids for the littlest infractions.

They’re so terrified and confused, they end up making even more mistakes, which in turn sets me off even more - it’s a vicious circle that leaves me frustrated with myself and more times that I’d like to admit to, I’ve lost it in the teacher’s bathroom.

Meeting Mrs. Mulder today was unexpected and I tried hard to keep it together for a few minutes, but I can’t stand looking at Felix’s innocent face for a longer period of time, so I bolted right after the introductions.

I actually did have an appointment, with my therapist, and today she suggested I write down my feelings in a journal to get them off my chest and reflect on them.

During the night, I wake after only a few hours of sleep spent tossing and turning. Unable to fall back asleep for yet another night, I drag myself our of bed and downstairs, turning the TV in the living room, hoping it’ll lull me back to sleep.

“10 things I hate about you” is on and by the time Julia Stiles recites her poem, I’m bawling into a pillow. I remember the homework I’ve been given, so I grab a piece of paper and a pen and begin writing.

“Miss Scully’s list of 10 things I hate about you”

The words of the title swim before my eyes as I scribble my feelings onto the patient paper. The poem I write is slightly different from the one in the movie, but writing it all out really does help.

I fold the paper up carefully and toss it in the trash before heading back up to bed.

[rhaenyraisadyke]

It's been a year! Transcript: 8/3/21 Here is also a google doc of the transcript if that is easier to read!

*Starts out with happy birthday on a guitar playing*

Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday to me. Happy Birthdayyyy to meee, Happy Birthday to me

*Drinks a swig of alcohol*

Ah. Yeah it’s my birthday today, which um seems odd, it doesn't feel like i've been here that long… but I have. Cheers everyone uh. I realise I haven't really done much in a while.

I woke up this morning, rolled out of bed, put out this cake I made three months ago and uh, that's kind of been it, but yeah… I don’t think I’ve left this room in 80 days. About 80 days… How long is 80 days? I- I- that's a lot of months… that's been a long time… Also my vision just went black, I’ve been drinking a lot, um this is that possibly catching up with me um please return vision, I’d really like for it to be back, well I can hear things so at least i'm not deaf ya know? The lord has kept my hearing but I am blind, no um yep there we go.

I decided to get dressed up as well. I figured that would be nice, ya know? I’m pretty sure I was part of them back when I joined, so.. .I don't know if it felt like it made sense to dress up again. Um, fucking hell, I have not cleaned. *sighs* I’ll be honest, in the time I was gone, not very… not very much has happened, uh, it turns out you need customers to support a hotel, and I don’t know about you guys but I haven't seen one on this place for a pretty long while. So uh, basically what I’m saying is… the big jack manifold hasn't been going too hot, god, you don’t provide these guys with food for eighty days and they all go bones and evil.

LEAVE out you bard, you-

The point is, very little has been done here for quite awhile, and um I haven't been outside or seen anyone, and I- I didn't’ finish the pub. Um, you may be asking me, “but jack wasn't that the only thing you were working towards? I know but with the failure of the hotel, I kind of realised that again pubs also rely on customers and the very limited people on this server, as we can all see it really ah um, well it didn’t seem very fruitful. So um, we're kinda just here, living here rent free ever since we claimed this place… I actually don’t know who pays the rent.. Maybe Tommy still does um. I Don't know- anyway since I’ve been here for a year and I haven't really looked around in three months, I thought we would go and look around at everything that we once saw, you know?

I must admit the investment of the alcohol from the pub has been the only thing keeping-.. I shouldn't say that, let's not speak about that part. Yeah it turns out that this place, look I haven't been outside in eighty days and I think maybe since I’ve been here for a year I can go back and have a look around at everything. And um as I said I dressed up for the occasion, so um you know… lets see what's changed hmmm?

Anyway let's walk around shall we? Well this didn’t change, we still got mcpuffys here. Hehe, no one noticed my balls sign hehe, no one noticed, I forgot about this, no one noticed I replaced whatever the original one was with balls in hope they wouldn't notice and they didn't. Ahh that's good, I like that. Anyway, there's the duck and Ponk’s tower that seem pretty much the same.

This looks different, this was a hole.. Who are you? Alright? You know we are the only two people on the server right now? (talking to shroud) This basically means we gotta become friends. So.. tell me about yourself.. Sir? Madam? Shroud, alright. Oh Ohhh I stole some of these! Did I ever give them back? Whoops, oh well. Ahh, it's been quiet without him ya know tommy. I’ll be honest, theres been very little to do, with him gone, um, the fuck did ninjas house go? Why does it look like a very small mcdonalds?

Right, this tower, this seems pretty much the same. Does the sewer still exist? Hm oh wait does it not? What ohh no what happened to the sewers? Aw, there was a whole sewer system out there one time and oh wow. Why is there no longer a sewer there? Wait oH OH it is down here!

One of the first things I remember is me tommy and tubbo and quackity, before he even joined and was still in juvy we, hehe, we did a little heist on everyone and we stole the poo machines and stole everything and then we had a little room, and it was here and we stole the phantom membranes. It was a good time, it was a good time, I liked that and then ah there had only been one war. It's crazy to think there's been more, I thought we’d figure it out the first time, you know? It was fun. And we were called the beatles. Either way yeah.

Why the fuck is half of this place beatroots? Why are half of these beetroots and the other half potatoes? Why is it all farm?? Why? Why is it beats? Wait where did gay target go? Why is there just a beacon here? At least there's huts pizza. Employee of the first two days, of dunderbeatlin… the fuck is dunderbeatlin? What's this? Why are there new things? I know it's been eighty days but why?

This is the L’manburg museum, bearing in mind I'm dressed like this I should go see it.

Oh! It's like different things. This is like the community house, okay that's cool and that's the egg.. This is a replica it won't hurt you… oh it doesn't it won't actually hurt you. I guess they remade that shit. What even happened with that thing? I remember it tried to possess me once and then I bathed in the holy water and I was good again. Oh wow it's like a map of the whole server and there's egg gunk. And then and then and then here.. Where am I? Oh… is that lmanburg? Where is lmanburg? Oh wait oh yeah yeah wait I forgot��. Oh…. yeah….. Um….heh yeah….

OH its the lmanburg walls! I remember tearing them down and rebuilding them a lot and the hotdog van! Does it have the declaration in it? No it doesn't… It is blue. Ohhh…… I joined the day after this (the final control room) God, it's been a whole year since then… What's this? Wait… I feel like there's missing lines here. I don’t know if sorry, you know? Oh, look here, oh it just says i'm sorry. (erets apology book) I’m not all that sure that sorry quite cuts that. What's this? Oh this looks unfinished. Oh here's a map of old lmanburg! OH that's ze house! Before… I burnt it down and decided I wasn't gonna have manifold land anymore.. I miss that, I miss lmanburg.

It was a lot easier to dream when we were friends. Everyone feels so distant now but maybe that's because I haven't seen them, maybe that didn't help I mean no one came to say hi to me. Oh, oh, my main takeaway was that, wait it's not glass anymore, it's like a cavern, it was glass the last time I was there, it's changed since I was here to remember what happened… Why does it look like this? Hmm I don't know. Ah this was my cove, and it was untouched until I burnt it down fuck you.

Oh and theres my secret base that I never finished, FUCK YOU - fuck I hate him, anyway… oh there's the big obsidian bridge, oh isn't this where tommy was exiled? Over this way? I think… That means it was somewhere along here that… wait no it was right here… right? We turned on these stairs, stepped down, and pretty sure it was right here… he dug this.. I don’t think I want to visit this place. I want to go back, this isn't really where I want to be.

Anyway um, I wonder if Snowchester has changed. Lets go visit, okay um, that's weird that's freshly planted. Let's head over to Snowchester its that way. Since when was Tubbos' house back? Didn’t Tommy burnt it down? I swear this got burnt down.. I remember the ruins of it, there was a nether tree farm then in it… anyway…. Let's go check out fundys place. I haven't seen him in FOREVER. The last time I saw him was the last war… the day… the last war… WHY ARE THERE BIG MUSEUM THINGS EVERYWHERE??

Where's fundys house? I built it. I remember building it as a prank and then he liked it and lived in it.. Where's my tower? It was here next to the fox, his little fox hole… my towers were gone, it was definitely here, it was a million percent here and it was right next to it. It was somewhere there was a button it had a button. There was a big sign made out of obsidian…

I don’t know if you can tell, but I’ve been pretty purposeless for the past eight days… what the fuck? That's a HOLE. That's a big ass hole! That wasn't always there?! When did a hole show up?? There's a HOLE in my hotel!! I'm trying not to lose my cool and you know when I go the day that I joined, and the first person that greeted me was tommyinnit and still, I wish, I just wish someone logged in and said “hey jack happy one year” and I try to build them a pub and one of these *drinks a swig of alcohol* I mean at least..

Every time….. Everything here and how come it's all the things I care about that get blown up? Lmanburg… Manifold Land- Well I did manifold land but I was pissed off - Everything I care about on this server gets blown up, or destroyed or taken advantage of or.. Betrays me, that happens a lot. I’m not sure if I wanna be here anymore.

I’m not sure if I want to have anything to do with this… maybe that's it. Maybe that's it. What does this place bring? What does this place bring? Ever since I have been part of the “Dream SMP” Things are given to me that are eventually taken or destroyed, friends leave, DEATH, not everyone has died on the server and come back to life admittedly, I have now but the point is, I AM VERY DEFINITE I DON'T WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH THIS SERVER ANYMORE… Alright? Almost everyone that has promised me something has turned their back. Almost everyone. The last thing anyone said to me was “Ah when las nevadas comes about, we will have a deal jack.. I’ll make it big” Yeahh.. .he really brought a lot of business. How's Las Nevadas doing?? Because when I HEARD it would be done and bring me customers, surely not another person would give me false hope.

Tubbos was the only one I can trust, Tubbo and Niki. I know Niki has become an anarchist or whatever but at least she's happy, and Tubbo was always kind.

I think Las Nevadas is somewhere over here. Let's go look at how “done it is” and how ready for business they are… Looking PRETTY finished for me. Big sign, big building, nice roads. Looking pretty… done. Pretty ready for a business deal. Isn't that a shocker… Isn't it weird yet again that someone promised me something and it fell through again?

So FUCK IT I don’t wana see Snowchester, I dont want to see anything, My WHOLE TIME on this server has been doing things for other people and fighting peoples wars, right? Keeping up hotels and pubs for people to stay, trying to kill people at worst that wasnt me and fighting for them. I haven't done anything for myself. ANYTHING AT ALL. And I said the hotel was for me and look where it got me- in a room for 80 days and a giant bottle of cider I have yet to finish- so fuck it! I’m not dealing with anyone else anymore. The “DREAM SMP” I’m gonna go out and start my own thing. I’m gonna call it the “Dream SSP” survival single player because I’m not dealing with anyone else anymore. Alright?

The day Tommy died, I said I was done with manifold land because the only thing it ever stood for was trying to get rid of him, and although it was also about getting back at him, it was about other people, but this time, I have something new in mind, something completely different…

NEW Manifold land will not cater to anyone else, not fight for anyone else, to I don’t know be anything for anyone else really. New Manifold land will stick very strictly to the name and persist of purely Jack Manifold, and I might steal Godzilla back from Tubbo (his arctic fox). Because as much as I said Niki was kind and Tubbo was kind, where they been the past 80 days? No one came to the hotel. No one came looking for me to which point, I say I’m gonna find myself my own little place. I’m just gonna live. I’m gonna do what I want, the only thing is, I need to find an area of my own, we need to travel. So let's get moving hmm?

[maleyanderecafe]

I think(?) he’s the ML, but the Deon from The Princess’s Doll Shop is showing potential I think (warning bc I think he’s the ML and he an FL are step siblings, but implied to not be raised together. Still a warning if you think it’ll upset you!)

I'll be honest I'm still a little traumatized from reading the Red Fox (the step-siblings had sex with each other and my poor eyes) so I'm still a bit shook from the experience. My general opinion on any type of incest is that I don't like it whatsoever. I'll still read it for the sake of the story but generally, incest lowers my opinion of any story by a lot. In The Princess's Doll Shop, Dean and Kathia are not actually related (Kathia was born before her mom was brought in as a concubine) but the fact that Dean still calls Kathia sister while implying having a romantic interest in her is... well, it's really weird and I'm not a fan of it. I wish he would have just called her by her name instead, but that's just a pet peeve of mine.

Anyways, the story is about Kathia, a princess from the castle moving away to the countryside to open a doll shop, and while the first couple of chapters and the summary make it seem like a light-hearted story, it quickly turns into a much darker story. It's only about 22 chapters currently, but I'm sure it will build up more.

Kathia and her mother are really close and they care for each other, however, one day the king saw Kathia's mother and brought her in as a concubine because of her beauty. Her mother started to sleepwalk and Kathia had to keep an eye on her while she slept sometimes. At some point, Kathia becomes old enough to have a coming of age ceremony and while her mom initially refuses, Kathia goes through with it to try to bring her mother happiness after her mother almost drowns herself while sleepwalking. During her banquet, she meets the king's second concubine and her son, Daniel as well as the crowned prince. Daniel is shown to be reserved and shy (though Kathia is still wary of him) and the crowned prince is a twisted person that harasses Kathia during the banquet. After the banquet, Kathia asks her mother to gift her a doll for her birthday but disappears at night, causing her to worry. The crowned prince shows up and finds Kathia before again harassing her. Kathia's mother conks the crowned prince on the head, killing him, and is tried for murder, while Kathia is forced to pretend she had nothing to do with it. Kathia becomes so stressed that she starts to remember a past self (I guess stress can cause you to remember you've been isekaied) where her brother was more important than her and that the story she read over and over is the world she's been isekaied to. During this time, she remembers the main character, Deon, who becomes the future king. The next day she spots Deon and begs him to help her mother. At first, Deon is uninterested, but out of desperation, Kathia tells him that if he is able to save his mother, she will become his tool. During the trial, Deon speaks up before her mother is tried and suggests that she should become a slave instead. The court agrees, buying more time for Kathia's mother. During this time the second concubine is forcing her son Daniel to gain mana in order to power his dark magic, which requires the sacrifice of a lot of slaves and Daniel suffering to please his mother. The next day, Deon brings in a knight by the name of Troy to help with Kathia's mother's escape, although Troy is incredibly wary of Kathia. During this time we learn about Deon's condition, where he can't see color and as such has a hard time distinguishing people apart as a result. However, upon meeting Kathia, he's finally able to see color from her eyes, causing him to become interested in her. Troy cuts Kathia's throat slightly as a warning, but Kathia reminds Deon that she will become his tool and if she fails, that she wants Deon to kill her. Deon is completely in bewilderment since he was happy that Kathia treated him kindly but also thinks of the idea of him killing her as a declaration that she is his. Kathia makes a blanket for her mother who is currently being held in a cell and her mother reveals that Kathia's dad essentially raped her and that while initially, she didn't care for Kathia, she grew to love her. Kathia is so in distress that she passes out, and when she awakens, they take her mother out to be "enslaved". Right when the two are allowed to have freedom, an army comes to fight Deon. We see that Daniel appears and almost kills Kathia, but fails and kills her mother instead. Daniel returns to his mother, and the second concubine manipulates Daniel into believing that he did the right thing.

When it comes to the story, I was pretty surprised about how dark it got. I think some parts of the plot were pretty predictable (because most of it is set in a flashback, some scenes like the mother's death is expected), but I suppose that's just the nature of how it's told. The art style is very pretty and there's something nice about the linework. Kathia is... an alright protagonist, I think her relationship with her mother is very sweet, but probably what pissed me off the most about her is that she didn't even bother to help Daniel. Besides the fact that Daniel is depicted as a sensitive and soft boy who is tortured and manipulated by her own mother (like dang, I feel extremely sorry for him, I just want to pat his head), Kathia knows how the story goes and knows that Daniel will probably kill the entire castle and takes control and doesn't do anything about it. Even though it's obvious that Kathia knows that Daniel is being tortured and that he's a soft boy, she... Doesn't even talk to him?? Doesn't even try to help him?? Like sure, maybe Kathia only really cares about her mother and not the rest of the court, and perhaps even trying to talk to Daniel is a lost cause because he's so far gone due to his mother's manipulation, but... she doesn't even try?? I feel like if Kathia had also tried to talk to Daniel or maybe console him about what had happened, he would be a powerful ally because not only would she have the power of dark magic, but Daniel could also possibly try to help Katha and Dean save Kathia's mother and obviously he wouldn't have killed Kathia's mother but... No?? Maybe I just feel bad for him because he honestly doesn't deserve all the horrible things that happened to him and I have a soft spot for cute, gentle, and soft boys but still. I'd honestly think that Daniel would be a cute yandere if he somehow fell for Kathia and I really hope it builds up to something like that in the future.

Anyways, enough rambling about Daniel. For Dean there are a couple of moments of yanderes. In the beginning, while in the new countryside, Kathia starts sleepwalking like her mother and Dean catches her before she falls off the rooftop before bringing her to bed and ordering the rest of the group to make it seem like nothing had happened. During this time, Dean seems really possessive over Kathia. The other instance is when Kathia tells Dean that if she fails to be his tool he could kill her, and to him, he sees this as a sign that Kathia is essentially stated that she is his. While these are both possible signs, it's unfortunately too early to tell if he will become a yandere in the future.

Sorry for rambling about Daniel so much and making this into a much longer ask than before, I just am tilted. I guess.

Have a picture of poor Daniel as compensation before he gets tortured into oblivion by his mother.

[crystalirises]

Um hi when your request are open I really enjoyed the fundy npc au could you do a bit of a continuation, like maybe alivebur is just dragging fundy into his mess at attempting to break dream out of prison. I'm perfectly fine if your not interested in it

Now. As I've said, I usually might not do requests or continuations when it comes to stuff I put in the "Brainrot Central" thing cause it's just full of fanfic stuff that entered my brain and I had to write down so it would leave.

However, the NPC Fundy AU has a special place in my heart. Mostly cause Fundy vibing on his own and not actually getting involved with the whole dsmp thing is nice. And yes, I am very much aware that taking out Fundy within the storyline would cause some stuff to be different. But essentially, all the major stuff that happened, still happened. It's only minor things that have changed. But otherwise, the same stuff still happened.

Anyway, enough of my rambling. I'm adding the link of the ao3 here, but the story is also after the Keep Reading.

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31985884/chapters/81078352

The cottage had rotted beyond repair by the time he got home.

Wilbur had rushed to the front door, forgetting the bags of missed gifts that he’d brought with him. He flung the door open, the hinges so loose that the piece of wood slammed onto the wall before collapsing to the ground. He coughed at the cloud of the dust that flew right into his face.

“Fundy?! Fundy! I’m home!” Wilbur stepped into the house, “Fundy, papa’s home!”

There was no shout of joy, no hurried footsteps, no little boy that clung to his leg and demanded to know where Wilbur had been. He took a deep breath through clenched teeth, quelling the panic that had begun to bubble in his chest. His son was asleep, surely. He walked deeper into the house, frowning once he realized how utterly devoid the house was of furniture. Portraits had been torn off the walls, wooden chairs had been smashed against the floor, and there were random patches of black on the stone floor - almost like someone had set a fire on them. Wilbur quietly headed towards his son’s bedroom, finding the door open and the bed completely empty.

Wilbur staggered back. His son had to be somewhere nearby. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep himself from falling into hysterics. Fundy had to be nearby. He had to be.

At some point, Wilbur found himself wandering over to the living room.

He found the letter on the table, his hands shaking while he reached to pick it up.

Wilbur could only read the first and second lines before his knees buckled underneath him, his breath picking up. A god. A god. A god had taken his son. His hand clenched around the paper, his heart breaking once he realized that the paper itself looked a year old. Wilbur was only glad that it hadn’t been a day old. He laughed at the thought of that misery. Imagine finally coming home, only to realize that you were late for one day. That he could have stopped his son from leaving if he’d just been a day earlier. Then again, what did it matter? One day. One week. One month. One year. One hour. One minute. One second. He was late. Wilbur had been late to come home. He broke his promise. He should have been there for his son. He’d been gone for six years. Six long years. His baby wouldn’t even be a baby anymore. He’d be… He’d be fourteen.

His sadness melted into anger. The gods have been a menace to his life, and now one has taken his son. It wasn’t enough that they’d trapped him in their barbaric world. They took his son too. He’d promised himself to live for his son. That no matter what the gods threw at him, he would not kneel to their whims. Schlatt had called him insane, that he was better off resigning himself to a pitiful life within the gods’ realm, a puppet whose purpose was to entertain them. Schlatt had nothing to live for anyway, except his alcohol. He didn’t know what it was like to be a father.

Six years. Six years of torture, of trials, of fucking betrayals. And all so he could return home to a ruined house and a missing son. The paper crumpled in his hold, forcing him to snap back to reality. It had been a short letter, written in the messy and hurried handwriting of a child. Wilbur traced what his son had scribbled out, ‘I’ll always I love Love you.’ His poor little baby.

Did Fundy think papa had abandoned him? He pressed the letter against his chest, remembering the day he’d left his son alone. It had been the first time he’d left his son alone in the house. It was supposed to be a quick trip to the village. Wilbur hadn’t known that the gods would whisk him away to a world where he would continually fight for his life, his son’s memory the only reason that he kept fighting for his survival. Now, his son was gone, whisked away by a god.

Wilbur didn’t know which god had taken his son. But he knew one person who would know.

He placed the letter inside the pocket of his pants, hesitating for a moment before letting go. Wilbur wouldn’t need to keep holding onto a piece of paper forever. He’ll find his son. He headed out of the cabin, pausing at the doorway while a memory flashed in his mind. The day he left, he crouched down so that he could be level with his son. Fundy had pouted at him, scared that his papa wouldn’t come back. Wilbur had chuckled, patting his son’s head before ruffling his hair. He had promised to be back, promised that he’d make Fundy’s favorite pancakes for dinner. Fundy had been so excited, tail wagging behind him while he told Wilbur to come home quickly. His hands shook, but Wilbur forced himself to move out of the rotting house. He had to leave.

He picked up the bags, glancing down at the toys that he’d brought with him. He had missed so many birthdays and so many Christmases. Wilbur picked a fox plushie among the pile of toys, pressing it close to his chest. Fundy would have been so happy to get so many toys. Tears began to fall down his cheeks. Fundy would get the toys, he’d make sure of it. He’ll get his son back. He’ll get his little champion back. Wilbur didn’t glance back at the house, it didn’t matter to him.

Wilbur could only hope that Phil would be able to help him.

---

General Wilbur Soot was content to stay like this forever…

A soft smile graced his lips, a hand reaching up to ruffle Fundy’s hair.

It didn’t matter to him that Fundy was pretending to not know him. All that mattered was that he’d found his little champion again. This was his second visit of the week, and though his son was jittery about his presence, Fundy had quickly warmed up at the promise of pancakes. Now here they were, in the kitchen that Fundy’s den had. Wilbur would have preferred that Fundy stay near him, that his son be safe and happy within L’Manburg. If Wilbur had to be honest, he had been hurt when his son immediately declined his offer. Then he realized why Fundy had done so.

His little champion had always been so smart. Wilbur leaned back against his seat, glancing over at the bag of toys that he’d left on the couch. Fundy had been confused by the gifts, but he hadn’t complained when Wilbur insisted that they were for him. His poor son. He hadn’t gotten a proper gift in so many years. Well, it didn’t matter now. His papa was finally back, and Wilbur would always make sure that Fundy was content and happy. He’d have to bring Fundy more food soon.

…but first, he had a war to win.

---

President Wilbur Soot knew he couldn’t let his emotions take control of him…

He watched his son run off, the fox hybrid scampering away before Wilbur could ask - demand - why Fundy didn’t want to stay in L’Manburg. Dread and betrayal stung his chest, but he quickly pushed them away. He supported and understood why Fundy didn’t want to stay with his papa.

His little champion thought his papa had abandoned him.

Wilbur sighed, turning his attention towards the blackstone walls that were built for his son.

…for he had a nation to run. But that didn’t mean that his emotions weren’t ripping at the seams.

---

The exiled ex-president Wilbur Soot had no more dreams for the future…

He laid in his father’s arms, the piercing pain in his chest turning numb while blood ran down his mouth. He could feel his father’s hand on him, pushing against the bleeding while he muttered a repeated prayer of ‘no’s.’ He shouldn’t laugh. He knew that. But he couldn’t help the weak giggling that slipped past his lips. He knew what it felt like to lose a son, why was he giving his own father the pain he felt? He shook his head, because he was a selfish bastard, that’s why.

Phil was muttering his name, begging him not to close his eyes. Wilbur closed his eyes. In his last moments, he wanted the world to melt away. He wanted it all to fade away. Wilbur basked in the darkness of near death. There was no L’Manburg. There was no Manburg. There was no Dream. There was no Schlatt. He floated in a black abyss, alone and silent. He felt his hold on the waking world begin to slip, and in the darkness, he could hear his father beg him to open his eyes. Wilbur chose death. It was time for him to leave this cruel mortal realm, for good this time.

His little cha— Fundy would be happier once Wilbur was dead.

… he’d already lost everything in the past anyway.

---

Ghostbur draped a warm blanket around his sleeping son.

They’d had a tiresome day. His little champion needed all the rest that he could get.

Ghostbur… well, he didn’t need any sleep!

He was more content to sit by his son’s side.

He’d make sure Fundy was safe and happy. Ghostbur will chase away all the nightmares.

---

The newly revived Wilbur Soot was very happy to be with his little champion again.

Sure, he wasn’t all too pleased to leave Fundy on his lonesome by the time they reached the prison, but it had been a quick prison break. Never underestimate a father who was in a hurry.

The warden never stood a chance.

Wilbur hummed along while Dream followed after him, his reluctant ally flinching the moment sunlight touched his pale and scarred skin. He didn’t quite wait for Dream, itching to get back to his son. Fundy could be so… He could be so… adventurous. By the time he and Dream returned to where Fundy was, his son was sitting underneath an oak tree, knees pressed to his chest while he stared off into the distance. Wilbur chuckled, the noise snapping Fundy awake from whatever reverie he had been in. He reached down a hand to pull his son to a stand, the fox hybrid pausing before reluctantly reaching out. His son stood up, then shrieked when he finally saw Dream.

“Now, Fundy, it’s rude to scream at others. Be nice, little champion.” Honestly, Wilbur was in limbo for only thirteen years (one year, apparently, in the mortal realm) and already his son had lost any form of manners. Then again, Ghostbur wasn’t much of a father. He had to control himself from thinking about the ghost of his old self, the same man who chose to leave his eight-year-old son alone. The same man who had taken so long to escape from the god’s grasps. He had been a weak man back then, but now he was strong enough to care for his son. He was just… eight years late. He glanced over at his son, the fox hybrid having hidden behind Wilbur’s back. Oh, well, his little champion had always been a bit too shy. Wilbur grinned, gesturing between Dream and Fundy. “Dream, this is my son Fundy. Fundy, this is Dream. He’s a friend.”

“I know who he is!” Fundy snapped. Wilbur frowned, his son was never this… snappy.

“Dream, if you excuse us for one moment. I have to speak with my son, you would understa— No, wait you wouldn’t. Sorry, forgot you were terrible with children.” The masked (well, he wasn’t wearing a mask now, and Wilbur refrained from laughing at the poor man’s plight) man didn’t say anything. He never even looked at Fundy. Good. Wilbur didn’t want Dream near his son anyway, even if they were allies. He led Fundy further away, a hand resting on his back. Fundy’s eyes were skittish, looking here and there almost like he was preparing to run. Wilbur held onto his son’s arm, pausing once they were far enough away from Dream, “Little champion, what’s wrong? Are you upset? I know it’s a lot, but I assure you, Fundy, Dream is a good ally—”

“Friends?” Fundy shook his head, disbelief in his eyes. “S-since when?”

“Dream brought me back to life, little champion.” Wilbur ruffled his son’s hair, the fox hybrid flinching before backing off. He tried not to take offense to that. “He’s the reason I’m here now.”

“... Where’s Ghostbur?”

“Does it matter? I’m here. Who cares about the ghost of a man long since dead?” He grasped his son’s shoulders, ignoring the frightened look in his eyes. Ghostbur had been a pitiful replacement of who he had been, but he had to thank the ghost. Ghostbur had spent a lot of time with Fundy, and had realized that Fundy… didn’t even know who Wilbur actually was. “I’m here now, son.”

“Stop calling me that.” Fundy muttered underneath his breath, eyes cast low to the ground. The sadness in his son’s look pulled at Wilbur’s heartstrings. “I’m not your son. You’re confused—”

“It’s alright, Fundy. We’ll get your memories back, papa promises you that.”

He pressed a kiss to his son’s forehead. Fundy winced, but didn’t make a move to run away. If anything, a bright shine seemed to appear in his eyes at the promise. Wilbur grinned, of course Fundy would want to remember. His little champion would want to remember… But then… Wilbur frowned. Did he really want Fundy to remember the pain of his lonely childhood?

He held his son’s hand in his - still so small. They’d cross that bridge when they got to it.

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

Wilbur @ Dream: No, wait you wouldn’t. Sorry, forgot you were terrible with children.

Fundy, who is literally 21-years-old: 🧍

Also:

Me: you can't make Fundy's hands smol, he's a pianist >:( are you making his life miserable? Also me: Not in this world :p Me: aight seems legit

[s-and-n-writes]

another long day

crimson and bluebell: part two

summary:

Marinette Rossi is tired of everything: from Lila’s constant berating and Madame Rossi’s preferential care of her ‘angel-like’ daughter, to how everyone at school (even Alya) seems to believe her evil stepsister over her.

It’s like she’s Cinderella, except without the fairy godmother and the happy ending. She doesn’t even have a prince.

Or so she thinks.

Between the appearance of a new boy who seems to have captured her heart, and a gala run by her fashion idol Gabriel Agreste, Marinette hopes for an escape the constant ignorance, workload, and bullying she endures, and get a blissful life of her own.

With the help of one tiny god and a meow-velous partner, she might finally get a chance, but not everything is that simple.

They say ladybugs are lucky, so will being the elusive Ladybug bring Marinette the luck she oh-so-desperately needs?

quick links:

< previous chapter | first chapter | next chapter >

| miraculous masterlist | series masterlist |

a/n: so hi again, it’s me, n! im so so so sorry that i didn’t post for a long time, school caught up with me and everything’s getting v stressful these days. regardless, my new year’s resolution is to post more of these, and i’ll actively make an effort to do that hehe, in the meantime, enjoy!

also i’m appalled at the fact that this was 15 pages long and took more than a month to write how are you doing

Marinette had thought that the whole coffee spill, glass breaking fiasco would be relatively easy to clean.

She was wrong.

It takes her all of 10 minutes to clean up the glass, and another 20 minutes to try and clean up the coffee.

Key word: try.

Marinette ends up at school 30 minutes late, the coffee-stained carpet rolled off to the side at home, effectively ruined. She hasn’t even thought about the cracked glass table yet, which she hid by placing a tissue over top of it after Lila left.

Needless to say, all of this puts a little bit of a damper on her day.

As Marinette walks up the staircase of Francois Dupont, the school she goes to, she spots Alya Cesaire inside. Alya is Marinette’s closest friend, and despite having moved to Paris only a year ago, it feels like Marinette has known her for their entire lives.

“Girl, girl, girl…” Alya sighs as Marinette walks through the doors. It’s a free period, and students litter the area. Marinette spots Lila walking with one of her friends on the other side of the school, and luckily, Lila doesn’t see her.

There’s one good thing about school that Marinette adores: she doesn’t have to see Lila. Lila’s always had Madame Mendeleev for homeroom, and Marinette’s had Madame Bustier. Because of this, their schedules never interact, which allows Marinette to avoid Lila for the duration of the school day.

“I’m so sorry!” Marinette pleads, running up to Alya and shrugging her backpack off her shoulder. “There was a coffee spill, and glass broke, and-OH GOD I MISSED THE MATH TEST!!!”

“Marinette, chill,” Alya laughs. “The math test got rescheduled, but Ms.Bustier is pretty mad about you being late,”

Marinette sighs. “That’s a relief,”

“But you still missed a lot of news~,” Alya says, singing the last word.

Alya aspires to be a journalist, so on the occasions that Marinette wasn’t late, Alya would give her anything and everything interesting she’d dug up that week.

"I know, I know," Marinette sighs, fingers loosely picking at her shirt again. The seams stay intact, but Marinette's mind doesn't. The coffee spill and the glass breaking is constantly on her mind; she's not sure what to do. 

"Nice shirt, girl," Alya smiles, breaking Marinette away from her thoughts. Alya's good at that, and she notices when Marinette lets her mind wander, something that happens a little too often for her tastes. "Did you make it?" 

Marinette bursts into a grin. "Yes! I used that gorgeous thread that Sabine bought last week for my birthday, you know, the one I kept talking about, and it was absolutely amazing! I had to make this! What do you think? Do you like it?" 

The shirt is simple; a white base with flowers of varying sizes lining the edge. Marinette pairs it with her old, pink jeans (the fabric for the flowers on her shirt came from some leftover ones she had when making the jeans) and a dark-gray blazer that Lila used to own. 

"It's beautiful," Alya smiles, "But hey, I’m more excited for you-know-who’s reaction," 

Marinette rolls her eyes, hiding her face as an involuntary blush rises to her face. "Alya! You know I don't like him like that!," 

Alya grins. "Just teasing," 

“Well, anyways, tell me what I missed during lunch, I’m off to the classroom, before Ms. Bustier comes looking for me,” Marinette smiles, turning and running up the stairs. 

“Good luck, girl!” Alya says, waving goodbye and pulling out her phone. 

“Good luck, girl!” Alya says, waving goodbye and pulling out her phone.

The day passes quickly, and lunch comes sooner than Marinette expects.

She meets Alya outside of Francois Dupont, and they both head to Ville de Soirée, a cafe which isn’t nearly as expensive as the others in the area. They both order their usuals, and sit in one of the booths as they wait for their drinks.

Marinette sighs and leans back. “Ok, ok, tell me,”

Alya, who is most probably on the verge of exploding from her excitement, gears up. “Ok, so you know Nino, right?”

“You mean the boy you’ve been obsessing over since we met him?” Marinette teases. “Oh hey, I might have an inkling,”

Alya blushes, her cheeks tinting rouge. “Shut up,”

Marinette giggles. “Ok, go on,”

“Anyway, Nino texted me yesterday that his parents finally agreed, and he’ll be starting school starting Monday next week!”

“Ah! That’s so exciting! I’m so happy for you!” Marinette laughs. “Now you can actually make a move!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I’ll let you play matchmaker when the time comes,” Alya laughs, “there���s also something else, and this one I know you’ll be even happier about,”

The barista interrupts Alya, placing two steaming drinks in front of them. They both reach for their drinks, with Marinette holding the cup in her hand and Alya taking a sip. She grins.

“Nino’s friend, you know, Adrien Agreste, is also coming too,”

She pulls back, looking smug as she tries to read Marinette’s face.

The girl in question sighs, shaking her head. “Who even is Adrien, and why does everyone keep mentioning him to me?”

Alya facepalms, groaning.

“Girl, sometimes I swear you live under a rock,” Alya sighs, shaking her head. “How do you not know who Adrien Agreste is? His ads are literally everywhere!”

Marinette pouts. “Well maybe I just haven’t seen him,”

Alya rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Ohh no, there’s no way you’ve missed him ,”

She pulls up her phone and momentarily scrolls as Marinette waits.

“Here,” she says, “That’s him,”

The photo on Alya’s screen is from last February, Marinette recognizes. She remembers how Lila bought a copy of the magazine it came in, although she wasn’t allowed to see it.

But the boy is familiar. His face is similar to someone’s, but Marinette can’t pinpoint who it—

Oh.

Oh.

He’s Gabriel Agreste’s son.

Marinette leans back.

“That’s Monsieur Agreste’s son! I should’ve known, how could I have missed it when Madame Rossi told us about him?”

Alya squints her eyes. “Wait what?”

“There’s a fashion show that Adrien’s dad is hosting, and the embassy’s holding a huge event to greet all the fashion officials that are coming. Madame Rossi got us all passes to go,” Marinette says.

“That’s the one my mom’s cooking for! It’s next weekend right? She would not stop talking about it all weekend. I can try and score a pass, to you know, keep you company?”

Marinette gasps suddenly, burying her face in her hands, “Ah! I forgot! I won’t be able to go, since Li— I mean I, spilled coffee all over our new carpet,”

Alya raises an eyebrow.

“Fine, fine, I cracked some glass too,” Marinette sighs, face growing redder. “Madame Rossi’s gonna ground me for sure!”

Alya shakes her head. “Somehow I can believe it. You are the clumsiest person I know,”

She nods thoughtfully, fingers closing around the fox necklace on her neck. “Well I can’t deal with the whole glass situation, but maybe I can help with the coffee stuff? Happens to my mom all the time,”

Marinette perks up. “Really? Would you? Oh thank you Alya!”

Alya laughs. “No problem girl, I’ll come by after your shift at the bakery,”

Marinette pauses. After work would be...when Lila comes home.

Alya has always been a fan of Lila, but despite knowing Marinette, she’s only admired Marinette’s less-than-wonderful sister from afar. This means that so far, Marinette has managed to keep Alya and Lila separate.

Does she really want to risk that?

Weighing in the situation, she sighs. Would she rather have a shot at attending a potentially life-changing event, or safely escape Alya meeting Lila?

Knowing the both of them, Marinette remembers, they’d be a deadly combo.

But Marinette really wants to go to the event so, maybe this time, she might just give in.

“Great!” Marinette says, happiness laced with fear. “That’s...great!

Alya nods, smiling, watching as Marinette giggles.

“Now about setting you up with Nino…”

Alya turns away, blushing, “Marinette!”

Today

Lie-la 😒: sup loser

Lie-la 😒: im going to the mall with my friends after school

Lie-la 😒: if my mom comes in early

Lie-la 😒: you know what to say

Lie-la 😒: type, maribrat. use those lousy fingers.

You: yea, sure lila.

Lie-la 😒: good.

Marinette sighs and pockets her phone. For today, she is safe.

And that’s all she has ever wanted.

Marinette’s day ends with her feeling happier than when it began. Alya’s coming over to wash out the coffee stain, Lila won’t be there when she gets home, and she’s heading to her shift at the bakery!

It’s normal for work to not be exciting to most people, but for Marinette, it always is. Heading to the Dupain-Cheng bakery is always the highlight of her day, and working there is even better. The owners, Sabine and Tom, are like the parents she never had, what with them spoiling her with all the food they give and teaching her how to bake. Customers even tell Marinette all the time that she looks strikingly similar to Sabine, but she doesn’t see it.

In truth, she’s only ever even thought about becoming a designer because of the Dupain-Chengs, and if it weren’t for their motivation, she’s sure that she would be in a much different place right now.

But that’s not what Marinette worries about right now. Despite school ending early and the bakery being right across the street from where she is, she still manages to be late.

She exchanges a quick goodbye with Alya, who chuckles at her frazzled state, and dashes off towards work.

“I’m here!” she shouts, running into the bakery, the familiar jingle of the store’s door’s bell ringing in her ears. “Sorry!

Sabine laughs as she hands a box of pastries to a customer, waving as they leave. “Just on time. Hello Marinette,”  

Marinette winces as Sabine holds out her apron. “Sorry again, Sabine!”

Tom laughs from the kitchen behind the store, the sound booming through the bakery. “Marinette!”

“Tom!” Marinette says back, her lips curving into a smile.

Sabine eyes Marinette as she ties the apron behind her, quickly joining the older woman behind the counter.

“So?” she asks. “What’s new with you?”

Marinette sighs. “Not much, not much...oh! Madame Rossi has an embassy gathering to welcome a couple of famous people into France. And not just any people, people who work in the fashion industry!”

Sabine nods, smiling at Marinette’s delight. “And why exactly are these people coming?”

“It’s for the Gabriel event. I don’t know when it is, but apparently Gabriel Agreste is holding a huge gala, something about searching for a fashion assistant?,”

Sabine perks up at fashion assistant. “Marinette, you should enter!”

Marinette gasps. “I couldn’t! There’s no way! I mean, my designs are barely adequate, let alone Agreste worthy!”

Sabine shakes her head. “Everyone knows that isn’t true. Don’t put yourself down like that!”

Marinette blushes. “Thanks Sabine,”

The woman smiles. “Well, anyways, are you allowed to go to the embassy event? It’s a great opportunity, you wouldn’t want to miss it,”

“I mean, Madame Rossi did invite me and Lila, but Lila spilled a bunch of coffee on the carpet, and cracked the dining table this morning. It’s all a stunt, she did it on purpose. She’s blaming it on me, which means I’ll get grounded, and I won’t be able to go, and you know there’s nothing I can do about that,”

Sabine sighs, placing a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “Oh dear. The next time I see Lila, I’ll tell Tom to get that girl and her mother arrested!”

Marinette laughs. “As much as I’d like that, where would I live?”

The rumble of the oven from behind the store dies down, and Tom walks into the main room. The room seems friendlier all at once, his large personality filling the space.

“Here, with us,” he declares proudly. “You’re like a daughter already,”

Marinette giggles, her cheeks growing red. “Alright guys, we’ll see,”

Sabine and Tom laugh as Marinette runs away to help a customer. Their afternoons with Marinette pass by quickly, and while they wish it was longer, you know what they say: time flies when you're having fun.

By the time Marinette gets off her shift, it’s 5:30 in the evening. Paris’s sky starts to fade from its normal cotton-candy blue to a marmalade orange. The hustle and bustle of the busy streets start to die down, and once she texts her address to Alya, Marinette makes her way to the bus stop.

While her time in the bakery is her favorite time of day, her time on the bus doesn’t prove to be too bad either. She likes the quiet silence, and enjoys her time away from the world around her.

The bus is probably her favorite mode of transportation (but her only one as well). When she volunteered to work at the bakery after school, Madame Rossi decided that ‘the streets were too dark at night for Marinette to walk alone’, and she was given a bus pass.

It was a small and random act of kindness that Marinette wouldn’t ever get again. It was also the only gift she ever got from her adopted mother, and despite not being too fond of Madame Rossi, she did treasure the gift.

Madame Rossi paid for her bus rides until Marinette was actually hired at the bakery. It was then that she decided to have Marinette pay her own bills, an action that most certainly helped Marinette for the future.

The sound of tires skidding against the pathway jolts Marinette out of her thoughts. She turns to see her normal bus waiting in front of her, and grabbing her bus pas, waits in line behind a couple others to get on.

That is, until she sees what’s about to happen.

Marinette watches as a man across the street tries to cross. He’s old, as his grayed hair and aged face tells, but his most identifiable quality is the red Hawaiian shirt he wears, embossed with a white hibiscus floral pattern.

Besides that, there’s also a car coming straight for him, and though it’s a little while away, there’s no doubt that he’ll get hit.

Marinette does the only thing she can think of. She runs.

The street is narrow, and Marinette manages to pull the man across the pathway before the car comes. She huffs, turning to the man to smile.

He has an odd look in his eyes, lips curved into a mysterious smile as Marinette quirks her eyebrow.

“Thank you, young lady,” he nods.

“You’re welcome!” she smiles, turning to look at the bus, which has started leaving. “Goodbye and stay safe, sir!”

The old man watches as Marinette just manages to catch the bus, stopping it and shouldering her backpack as she climbs on.

Marinette seats herself as the bus starts once more, and turns to her window to look for the old man.

But by the time she does, he’s gone.

Alya gets to Marinette's house at just the right time. When she reaches, Marinette has done a couple of her chores, cleaned up the living room, and put out the carpet in the first floor bathroom. Against the white rug, the coffee stain is obvious, and Marinette sighs as she inspects it.

How were they ever going to get it out?

There’s a knock at the front door, and Marinette knows it’s Alya. Smiling, the girl heads to the living room to open it.

Alya gasps as she sees the house. From the marble kitchen to the hickory-brown wood flooring, everything is pristine and clean, as if the Rossis live in a mansion.

(They don’t, but the house is still fairly big. Marinette sometimes has to clean it all as part of her chores, but luckily that hasn’t happened in a while.)

“Dang girl,” Alya sighs, “you rich or what?”

Marinette nervously laughs, cracking her knuckles. “Uh, I don’t know,”

“I’m joking,” Alya smiles. “But, random thing, where’s Lila?”

“She’s out. Doctor’s appointment for her, um, wrist,”

“Aw, that’s too bad. Tell her I said get better soon!”

Marinette sighs. She doesn’t like lying, but it’s far better than what would happen if she told the truth.

“Yea. Anyway, how are you getting the stain out? I tried all morning, but it was stuck,”

“Just watch me, girl,” Alya smirks. “Before we start though, you already blotted the stain,right?”

Marinette furrows her eyebrows. “Blotted? What do you mean?”

Alya demonstrates with her hands. “Like, did you take a paper towel and try to get as much of the stain out as you could?”

Marinette nods. “Yeah, that’s why I was late this morning,”

Alya nods. “Ok, so now we just have to make the cleaner,”

Marinette raises an eyebrow. “Make? This is getting a little crazy,”

“It’s really not,” Alya laughs, “I’ve done this a thousand times before. My sisters knock over my dad’s coffee way too much,”

Marinette laughs. “Alright then, show me what to do,”

Alya makes her way to the kitchen, filing through multiple cabinets. “Where’s your dish soap?”

“Bottom-left drawer next to the sink,” Marinette points.

“And your white vinegar?”

“Fridge. Anything else you need?”

“Just water,” Alya replies. “Warm, that is. And two cups of it,”

Marinette nods. “Got it,”

Alya takes out a steel bowl from one of the cabinets. “And can I use this?”

Marinette nods again. “Go ahead,”

“Great,” Alya says, pouring a spoon of dish soap followed by a spoon of vinegar. She waits for Marinette to get the water before adding that in as well, and then mixing. “That should do,”

“Work your magic then,” Marinette laughs.

“Just watch and see girl, I totally will,”

Alya finds a cleaning rag from a drawer in the island, and she runs over to the carpet. “Grab yourself a rag, Marinette, and let’s get started!”

Marinette laughs, and runs over to help. The time passes quickly, and by the time the coffee stain is gone and the carpet is dry, two hours have gone by. Their hands are sore and their legs are tired, but both can say that they had fun.

In the midst of it, Marinette almost doesn’t notice when Lila texts her.

Today

— 2 New Messages —

Lie-La 😒: open the back door

Lie-la 😒: im right by my house

Almost.

“Alya!” Marinette gasps, both sitting on the couch after the carpet was rolled back underneath the dining table. “It’s so late, don’t you have to go at 7?”

Alya tilts her head, confused. “No?”

“Oh well then I must have said it,” Marinette laughs nervously. “Yes that’s right! I’ve got work, haha. Bye!”

Marinette practically pushes Alya to the front door, while Alya looks lost and puzzled.

“Didn’t you already have work?” Alya asks.

“Yep, but gotta save up for uni right? Haha. Haha,”

Alya nods, squinting her eyes as she walks out the door.

“Um, bye? See you at school, girl,” Alya nods, quietly laughing.

“Bye!” Marinette smiles. Once Alya is farther away and out of sight, Marinette runs to open the back door. She can faintly hear the sounds of Lila’s friend’s car pulling into the driveway, so she dashes back upstairs as fast as she can. The last thing she wants to do is talk to Lila, much less be alone in a room with her.

She hopes that Lila won’t try anything while she’s in her room.

Sighing, she smiles when she stops at the attic door, and heads inside.

Before Madame Rossi found her and decided to take her in (how she came to that conclusion, Marinette would never know), the attic was all set to be Lila’s playroom. The entire room was painted pink from head to toe (even the carpet was a light shade of pink). There was a wooden wardrobe for all of Lila’s toys, and a desk with markers, painting supplies, and coloring pencils galore.

But then Marinette came along.

For one reason or another, she was given the attic as her own room. Out went the ideas of toys and tents in the room, and in came Marinette.

Madame Rossi didn’t give her anything. From the age of 2 till the age of 4, she slept on the ground, the lack of a bed present to her each night.

Until Lila outgrew her bed of course, which was then given to Marinette.

It was simple. Since Marinette was smaller than Lila, and slower at growing, she was often given Lila’s old things. All the clothes that Lila didn’t want, Marinette had. From her bed to the old beanbag in her room (one of the only things Lila gave her as decoration) everything was a hand me down from Lila herself.

Marinette sighs, and then flops into the bed. She’s lucky that Lila doesn’t bother if Marinette doesn’t get on her nerves.

Hopefully, until she can get out of this place, she’ll manage without angering Lila too much.

Standing up, Marinette locks herself in the attic, a faint click of the door behind her, and gets out her phone. Opening up Spotify, she starts her playlist, and goes over to the desk.

For the next hour, she does homework and finishes a project, all while sketching out designs for new dresses.

And hey, if she’s lucky, she might just be able to make one for the gala.

Marinette shuffles through her desk drawers, pop music playing through her earbuds. It’s nearly 8 PM and she’s searching for the special gold thread she had bought a couple weeks ago. It cost nearly a month's pay, and she’s been saving it for a special occasion.

With the dress she was sketching, she wanted to know if it was now.

She’s still searching through the drawers on the left side of the desk when she finds a box.

One that she feels might not have been there before.

(Then again, she rarely looks through all her drawers, so there’s always a chance that it could’ve been.)

Marinette feels confused. The box is made of a dark brown wood, and shaped like an octagon. The top of the box is embossed with a red design. Glimmering red circles meet wavy, thin lines, but Marinette is preoccupied with figuring out what the box is for.

In the end, she decides to open it. There can’t be much inside, can there?

Turns out, Marinette is wrong.

The moment she opens it is a frightful one. In that second, there’s a bright flash of light. It swirls around her as Marinette gasps, dropping the box onto the carpet as two solid-black earrings fall out.

That’s not the amazing part of it all though. After a second, Marinette comes face to face with a spotted red creature.

Needless to say, she screams.

“Hi Marinette!” the spotted creature says. “My name is Tikki! It’s nice to meet you!”

“Mouse!” Marinette hollers, “Bug! Bug-mouse! Talking bug mouse!”

Marinette scooches back, her hand grabbing books and papers off her desk as she throws them at Tikki.

“I’m here to help!” Tikki says, dodging the objects. “I’m here to help you!”

“Liar!” Marinette calls, searching for more things to throw. “This must be Lila’s version of a joke ! I can’t believe her!”

She takes her water-bottle from her backpack, and quickly moves to trap Tikki in it.

“It’s ok Marinette, I won’t hurt you,” Tikki smiles. “But if this makes you feel better, then this is ok!”

There’s a pause, and then Marinette sighs and chooses not to answer, leaning back, and quickly grabbing her school tablet off her desk. She points it at Tikki, trying her best to look intimidating.

“Who are you?” Marinette asks, “and what do you want?”

“Like I said, my name’s Tikki! I’m a kwami!” the tiny bug says, (still trapped in the bottle but floating in midair, Marinette notes) “And I want to help you!”

Marinette sighs, lowering her weapon tablet. “Did Lila send you somehow?”

Tikki furrows her forehead in place of her eyebrows. “No? Who’s Lila?”

Marinette bitterly chuckles, standing and throwing her arms into the air. “This. This. This is why you can’t help me. No one can. Anyone who meets Lila thinks she’s an ‘absolute angel’, and no one else knows her. How is someone supposed to help me if no one knows that my problem exists?!”

“Marinette,” Tikki sighs, “I promise you, I can help, if you’ll listen to me. Please let me explain, and then you can decide if you want to trust me or not, ok?”

Marinette pauses, considering the situation, and sits a fair distance away from Tikki, keeping her tablet in her hands.

“Ok,” she responds, facing the little bug. “But you have 5 minutes,”

Tikki smiles again. "And that's all I need,"

quick links: < previous chapter | first chapter | next chapter >

a/n: i resolve to post the next chapter soon lmaoo, thanks for reading! have an absolutely amazing day, you deserve it! 

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[blushing-starker]

Cold mates and black coffees

For @starkerfestivals prompt of mates

There is, he supposes, something beautiful about a world such as this, primitive yet advanced and sophisticated. Children no taller than his knee carry around super computers that fit in the palm of one's hands, talk to friends thousands of miles away whenever they want. It used to take him months to receive his preferred concoction for the early night wake up call, now stores inhabit every corner of every city. They patiently wait to receive their dependents, all sorts of people relying on some version of the simple black coffee to jolt their system. Convenient, sure, no doubt about that. A quick stop at a Starbucks and violá, five hours of productivity guaranteed. But nothing builds character like swimming laps through a freezing lake infested with piranhas to keep away the urge to rest for just another five minutes. Unfortunately, sleepless days were the norm for him and Rhodey whenever they endeavored to race each other underwater.

There are clothes, too. Clothes for each season available year round. Fox fur adorns a lanky mannequin next to a twin showcasing how breezy summer fabrics can be. Riding boots that he would have spent a small fortune on decades ago shine below man made light for the cost of a nice meal over at Pepper's. Jewels fine enough for the family vault enchant any who take so much as two steps in either direction. Everything is for sale; it just means swiping a plastic card, presenting a number off a super computer or giving the cashier the remains of ancient trees. He could buy an ice cream cone (with sprinkles, of course, he's not an idiot) and immediately wander over to a restaurant selling sizzling curry. It's what his father dreamed about, a thousand years ago. How odd then, that his only heir couldn't be more nonchalant to all this.

It's his what, first month back from sleeping for half a century? He got accustomed to this whirlwind of a consumerist world by the first week. The soft purr of self-driving engines, flashing neon street signs, a melting pot of twenty, thirty languages, glittering clothes clashing with garish makeup, an overwhelming scent of smoke, perfume and money is as familiar as the palm of Rhodey's left hand or Pepper's right. Is it fantastic, being alive for the wild ride that is the twenty-first century? Yes, of course it is. But it's his father's dream; not his. His dream is the same as what drove Maria Stark into the world: finding his mate. Which, logically speaking, won’t happen until time has colored his hair with quite a bit more starlight and streaked thin lines around not too shabby cheekbones. (Rhodey’s teasing words.)

Going along with logic, there is a chance his mate will never show up. It was mere luck his father met the only woman besides Peggy that could stand his whole. Well, that could just stand him, period. A mate is found by scent, identified by touch and only bound with words. If his father had gone for one more drink, he’d probably be as real as the tooth fairy. In the back of his head, there lives a voice. And this voice he named Miss Lucky. She told him how lucky he would need to be in order to find a mate not too close to cradle or grave, a person that saw eye to eye in the majority of the basics and was open to his predilection. Someone that wouldn’t fear or expose him, wouldn’t want to strike the killing blow themselves. And Christ, with or without Miss Lucky, it’s a fool’s idea, thinking that in the middle of New York amidst one of the coldest winters to ever grace the city, his mate, his soul’s match, his other heart will chance upon him and actually accept the fact that he barely exudes a scent. Let alone something useful enough to help others recognize his class.

That’s the one downfall to living in this time; so much tension regarding one’s class. It is infinitely better than before when there were only three possibilities and the social restrictions could very rarely be shattered. But now it’s about pulling rank, percentages listed on a piece of paper could be used against you or signify one’s survival. A double-edged sword. To be a nurse, any applicants must be less than thirty percent alpha. Soldiers were forbidden from entering foreign countries if they had more beta characteristics than not. Lovers, in some parts of the world, could marry exclusively when their percentages were compatible. In the old times, if you smelled like an omega, you were treated as such. That could entail being thrown into a whorehouse or perceived as royalty destined to bring life into the world. Once puberty came, a simple prick and a vial of blood determined one’s next decision regarding the future.

He took the test. Just out of curiosity and it’d be rude not to provide a mate with information so readily accessible merely because of an unjustified fear over his identity. He is an alpha. And if the test had said otherwise, it would have been no problem. Of course not, he would have been proud to identify as a beta or omega. His mother was a beta and his nanny, basically his second mother, was an omega. No shame would’ve clouded his mind at receiving such news. The matter was this, though, he had believed to be an alpha the entirety of his life. If the paperwork said that was his lowest percentage, different rules and procedures, updated to today’s society, would need to be learned.

And he’s so tired of it all when only a handful can smell the fact he’s an alpha. What was he supposed to do, carry the results in his pocket in case a bigot searched for a fight? No, that would be, as Pepper had made very clear before, extremely silly.

He carries the test in case his mate considers such matters important. Or their family. Yes, it’s not because he worries that society will somehow doubt his identity. In the end, being an alpha is an integral part of who he is. It shouldn’t be that way and he barely knows what that means, but it’s true. Miss Lucky comes back around swiftly now, what if his mate isn’t interested in him because of his percentage? What then? Learn what the other classes represent to that person and behave in ways they believe suit said classes? Could his match be with a pureblood, intent on “staying true” to their highest percentage? Would he be able to, cinnamon. Wait, cinnamon and honey? Is that rain and sunlight? Since when does Starbucks incorporate those smells? And how the hell does he know what sunlight smells like? He’s insane. There’s no other explanation, oh that must have hurt.

A young man has just barreled into him. Slammed into his arm like a linebacker. A linebacker that weighs a feather and a half. How is he this light, a breeze had more force. What should he, what’s the proper ritual here, oh my god

“Your nose is bleeding- “

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking. I’m just late for class and- “

“Calm down and let me buy you some coffee; you’re half dead- “

“Shit, your coat. I will pay you back, I swear.”

He hums, looks down and apparently he was too involved in his quest to find a mate that he completely bypassed the thought that this man had accidently crashed into him while holding a coffee…

A mate. He doesn’t know what sunlight smells like. How could he? Unless that’s what his mate smelled like. The young man inhales sharply, lets out a little “oh, I think, I know it’s you.” and, on further reflection, he notices this kid has the voice of an angel. Soft and kind while not being so lilting he’d think it weak and demure. Ah, he looks like an ethereal entity too. Of course he does.

It’s the eyes that do it for him, enchant him enough he wants to kneel and propose right there in the hopes of waking up each night to those amber pools as familiar and mysterious as the universe itself. The rosy lips, pink cheeks and sweeping lashes are also quite nice. He has the body of a being from the old tales, a nymph or a muse destined to bring light and joy to the world. And black coffee to coats older than his father and grandfather combined.

“Could I touch you properly? I think spilling sugar over that coat didn’t really give me the chance to feel my mate, Mister?” Rhodey’s gonna annihilate him. This is a child, twenty-one at most. They could exchange numbers; communicate when his best friend wouldn’t be tempted to take one look and accuse him of going for jailbait. He could make a plan, organize a way to gently explain how he’s an undead creature of the night whose low circulation means that somehow his hormone production slowed and therefore he barely smells like wood let alone an actual human being. They could make it work. If he’s lucky, Angel here won’t fall for another. If he’s lucky, lots of things won’t happen. Or they will anyway.

“Stark. Tony Stark. It’s a pleasure to meet you, all things considered. When I learned one’s mate smells like something unknown, I didn’t quite expect literal sunshine to be what I noticed. And don’t worry about the coat; it’s nothing.”

Marie Antoinette gave him this coat as a gift on his sixteenth birthday a few years before her death. It’s fine.

“Oh. I, I wouldn’t have thought I smelled like that. It’s really nice, actually. You smell, and please don’t take this the wrong way, like alpha. And home. I know it’s weird, but I can’t explain it any other way. I’m sorry if it’s too- “

At least he already knows he dislikes that worried furrow on such a happy face. He surges forward, clasps a soft hand and lets slip a shocked gasp, sees the mirrored reaction because Jesus, it’s as if he licked his finger and then stuck it inside a power outlet. Every hair on his body stands on end and when was the last time his heart beat that fast? Surely it was the night his old flame left or when they, no. No memories of a past lover when his mate is right here, clutching his hand like a lifeline.

“I don’t believe I know your name. Seems a little unfair, don’t you think? Wanna even the odds?” It’s meant to make the young man smile and he does.

It’s only when he grins that Tony notices the sharpened incisors and the slight cold coming from the small figure. The same fog that follows him around even on the hottest of days. The exact shape of teeth Tony cleans in front of his bathroom mirror each night.

“Peter. My name’s Peter. Nice to meet you, Tony.”

[imnotwolverine]

The marriage pact - Island folk

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 6 | Part 7 Island folk | Part 8 >

Disclaimer: mention of late motherhood worries

Author’s note: This story is just so much fun to write. I set a scene and *BOOM* it just kind of writes itself. Now, I don’t know how long this writing craze will continue, but so far you can expect an update every day. You read that right; every day! 

Word count: 1.525

(Link to my Masterlist)

--

[ Alice.in.writing.land ]

Dear readers,

Dark are the abysses of my heart sometimes, and I know that keeping those thoughts under lock and key only make things worse. And so, for the first time on this blog, I’d like to share something really, truly personal with you. A little snippet of my thoughts for a tender of your time, I’d like to come clean about my most recent Google search which I did late last night, after hours of laying awake.  

Late motherhood.

Why? You may wonder. Well, with my relationships continuously failing and the years - and candles - slowly adding up to my birthday cakes, I feel the increasing unease in my heart whenever I come to think of having a family of my own. Will it happen? And if so, am I not too late already? All my friends and family members had their first children in their late 20s, yet here I am, the oddball, single Pringling through life at 37.

It was about 3 AM late last night when I found myself quelling my nerves by looking at pictures of older female celebrities having kids at the “ripe old age of 35”, which in my book is still super young, but of course we are looking at Hollywood standards here. And, to be quite frank, I’m not sure if it helped me, but at least it did offer me the slightest sliver of hope as I found that I’ll probably just need a little luck, good preparation..and perhaps a donor, to make my wishes come true.

Research is required.

But, let’s not get carried away just yet. I know what I want, now all I need to give myself is time. Time to listen to my heart and learn if this is truly it, time to investigate my options a little more and time to sleep. Because honestly, Google is one hell of a click-through trap when you can’t sleep - I may or may not have ended up falling asleep to videos of laughing foxes, which are truly..the cutest. In case you want to look it up and dare to delve into the time consuming trap that is watching random Youtube videos, then search for: “Finnegan fox”.

Hi-la-ri-ous.  

Also; apparently chocolate cakes have internet access. So, aherm, hello and welcome to my little writing den, oh mysterious chocolate cake of mine!

A very sleepy, but glad to have this off her chest,

Ali

The waves broke softly onto the shoreline as the wind tugged gently on my hair, my pen scribbling away on the paper notebook on my lap. For some odd reason I found it much more comfortable to write by hand, and so whenever the mood struck and I found the time, I snuck out to my little beach hide-out and started to write. This time it was for work, but sometimes I also worked on smaller fictional stories, the very act of writing calming my nerves considerably.

I looked up when I heard the sound of slushing feet through the fine sand, the distinct vibrations telling me someone was approaching me with slow, dragging feet. And.. it appeared to be not just anyone.

Henry.

So very suddenly I felt terrible about posting that blog this morning. Had he read it? Would he start a conversation about it? I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to have that conversation with him right now. We were at best just dating, our newly rekindled friendship slash relationship only a few days young.

He stifled a yawn as he plopped down beside me on the picnic blanket, his eyes sporting large dark circles beneath them, his shoulders slumping slightly as he looked me over. I sniffled, shaking my head at the fact that we both had barely slept - obviously.

‘Mornin’.’ He grumbled, a gentle smile reaching his lips, his body leaning forward, but halting mid-morning kiss. Almost automatically I closed the distance, my hand moving aside my notebook so I could lean in, lips brushing over his, which apparently was just what he needed, his lips curling up in a full smile. ‘Hi.’ I whispered into his lips, then leaned back, tucking some rogue curl behind his ear before studying him better. Once more he wore a blue shirt - he had a gazillion of those, didn’t he? - and some dark jeans, his hair fresh and messy straight out of bed.

’So…no sleep then?’ I inquired, watching him as he slowly moved his gaze towards the rolling waves before us. ‘Nope.’ ‘How come?’ ‘Hmm..’ He thought aloud. ‘..I suppose it is difficult to just stop my life right dead in its tracks.’ He sighed.

‘What’s up Hen?’ I scooted closer to him, fingering a hand through his curls, his eyes closing as he revelled into the simpleness of my touch.

‘I have to fly back to London for the weekend. There’s this event that my manager can’t seem to cancel without serious repercussions and..’ He sighed again. ‘You don’t want to go.’ ‘Not really no. But I will have to. The fox videos helped by the way.’

My heart summersaulted at his words - not only because he apparently read my blog, which wasn’t entirely surprising, but also because he was showing so much vulnerability. This large bear of a man was being honest about the things that frustrated him, something I had never experienced with previous partners. They’d always just burst out in flames all of a sudden, without giving me any fair warning before hand.

‘Hmm..’ I hummed, thinking. His eyes were still staring out to the sea, soft waves cascading in similar shades to his cerulean irises. He truly seemed to be a bit done with it all. 

‘I’ve got some swimming pig videos at the ready too.’ I added, laying my head onto his shoulder and wrapping both my arms around his large chest, wishing to comfort him a little. ‘Hehe..swimming pigs.’ He chuckled, his chest vibrating with near silent mirth. ’Yea..can you imagine? Those tiny, tiny legs kicking through aquamarine water, their noses sticking out the water like living, breathing, skin coloured electricity points. Oink oink!’

Henry’s chuckle turned into rumbling laughter, his shoulders shaking until he finally looked back at me, my head still resting on his shoulder. ‘Ali..I ..eh..know this is maybe a bit weird, but, would you perhaps like to join me? To London? Leaving Friday night, back Sunday morning?’

I sat up, my brown eyes staring into his deep blues. Tender, hopeful blues. ‘Hmm.’ I hummed, blinking for a moment as I mulled over his words.

‘I know it’s all going fast and I don’t want to pressure you.’ He added.

‘No, it’s okay. It’s ehm..okay. Yea, sure, I’ll come. I haven’t been to London in ages and don’t have weekend plans anyways.’

‘Ages?’ ‘Naa..okay..maybe not ages. More like months.’ I snorted. We both laughed until finally my eyebrow quirked up. ‘So..what kind of event are you ..or we..going to?’ Henry smiled, leaning in to kiss me, the sound of my fluttering heart drowning out all else around us.

The answer to my question didn’t matter, I was simply very happy that I could join him and finally get a sneak peek of his usual life. Henry’s life.

—

‘I’m still amazed at the fact that you managed to pack all your things in that one backpack.’ Henry grinned, pushing my backpack in the overhead storage locker in First Class. I grinned in turn, shrugging my shoulders as I sat back in my seat. ‘Oh you know. I don’t mock about. No need to bring the unnecessary.’

‘You’d make for a fine traveller.’ He admitted, plopping down in his seat, right next to me, his hand quite instantaneously interlacing with mine - he didn’t even seem to think about it -, a smile tugging on the edges of his lips as he watched two business men enter, taking their seats a few rows ahead, leaving us plenty of privacy.

Slowly, he cast me a curious glance. ‘What is it, dear?’ He asked, noticing my studious look, his smile growing and his blue eyes sparkling.

‘Mmm..just wondering. You probably thought about this far better than I have thus far. But if you’d start a family..how would that..go? Like..-‘ ‘The travelling and stuff?’ ‘Yea.’

Henry leaned into the headrest, his head tilting up slightly as he licked his lips. ‘It’s going to take some back-and-forthing with my partner. And it won’t be easy. It will not only be my children that will give you broken nights, you see.’ He grinned and my heart fluttered at his words - children! -, yet my mouth remained sealed, waiting for him to continue. He sighed. ‘I..would definitely slow down my career. For the longest time I didn’t even think of that as a possibility. But like you wrote quite perfectly; all my friends and family members had their children young and here I am..the oddball. I know I should not press my luck by demanding my partner to give up everything for me. That is just not fair.’

‘Give and take.’ I added.

‘Yes, give and take.’ He smiled at me, his large warm hand squeezing mine gently. It felt nice. ‘Okay..so another question. You live in London right?’ ‘Mostly, yes.’ He nodded, making me grin. ‘Yea yea..Superman has several mansions and a jet setting career that makes you quiver right back into your 2-bedroom flat.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘But all joking aside..why did you chose to stay with your parents, now you requested a “time-out”?’

Henry shifted in his seat, his smiling face turning to one holding a more serious expression. ‘I’m from the island baby. And I will always, ALWAYS return to the island. It is my one true home after all.’  

--

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[ogamagirl]

WELL friendos, it looks like it’s gonna be a stressful week. I did a little think last night to de-stress myself, so I figured I’d share it here with y’all as well; maybe it’ll be fun for you to look at too.

It's been a while since I've documented The Plush Hoard, so I went through it this evening!

A few notes before we begin!

-Before the "but where do YOU sleep" comments come in - I move them around when I sleep lol. The vast majority of my plushies are up on my top bunk nowadays (which u purposefully cannot see because after I was done taking pictures I just started tossing em up there and didn't feel like making them look nice jskdhgf;;; ) - I only keep my very favorites with me. Every time I blog about my plushies I get that comment and it's not funny anymore ;; -I am not a collector that keeps my plushies on shelves or behind glass cases; one of the primary reasons I love collecting plushies is because I love soft textures, so I love hugging and cuddling with them. So some of them are pretty beat up at this point! I also have a cat and if you have a cat, you know cat hair Everywhere is just a fact of life, so if you happen to see any...sorry! I cannot possibly de-cat-hair my entire apartment at all times. -I am not a photographer and my bedroom has crappy lighting, so these pictures aren't ~the prettiest~; the point of this is for me to just have some fun talking about one of my hobbies! -I have cultivated this collection over years and years and years; as I said, it's one of my hobbies, and it just brings me joy!

That said, THIS GON BE A LONG POST LMFAO, so if you're on board, hop under the read more and we'll get started uvu

We shall start with the non-weeb plushies skdjfhldfg, which is the smallest cohort |D;;; of special note are the baby penguin from Sunshine City Aquarium in Ikebukuro, the moose my parents got for me in Alaska, the big doofy red panda my college roommates got me for my birthday one year, and the dragon. THE DRAGON IS WEIGHTED. The dragon is delightful oh my god all plushies should be weighted;;; 

Ghibli plushies! I got the vast majority of these while I was physically in Japan - the only two that I didn't were the foxsquirrel and the Totoro on top of it. The soot sprite I got at the Ghibli Museum itself uvu 

Digimon plushies! I wish there were more decently sized Digimon plushies TAT;; (I like bigger plushies because they are easier to hug ok) The Culumon and Viximon (? I think I'm remembering that name right: Renamon's in-training form, the yellow fox blob sdjfgdfg) are bootlegs I am very sorry ;;; My Digimon Plush Goal is to somehow find an official Culumon someday TAT;;; I rlly like Culumon there was a period of time in elementary school where I drew nothing but Culumon so lol. 

Random fandom plushies! Lessee, what's represented here...Sanrio, Hamtaro, Madoka, Heartcatch Precure, Higurashi, OneShot, Made in Abyss, Re:Zero, Undertale, and Deltarune! Ralsei's hat and glasses obviously come off...I, full disclosure, do not know where they are. They are probably under my bed somewhere sjkdfghsdg;;;; 

OK HERE WE GO: most of my plushies are Pokemon plushies. What can I say...they're just so much fun to collect TAT;;; first up are a couple groups of miscellaneous babbies; you will soon see I like collecting some Pokes over others... 

Miscellaneous babbies part two! See the lil Riolu? When I lived with my parents still, that Riolu was Joji's favorite plushie to steal |D;; she would semi-regularly come into my room and take plushies from me, but that one she took far more often than any other. She's such a small dog no damage was ever done, but still...Joji these are mine, not yours! 

Miscellaneous babbies part three! This was originally meant to be legendary/mythical Pokes but then I remembered Raboot and Galarian Ponyta and was like "OH NO I HAVE TO INCLUDE THEM" I am not very good at this jsdhfglsjfdg 

'pixs! (and two Ninetales) I have a very vivid memory of watching the first episode Vulpix appeared in in the anime and wanting a plushie of one so bad, but alas they were certainly not readily available to me yet, so I carried around a Simba plushie I had that evening pretending it was a Vulpix xD so if little me could see my Vulpix collection now she'd be very happy!! 

'vees! ...I like me an Eevee, what can I say. There's actually one Eevee that's missing from this pic - I told you I'm not very good at this |D;;; 

...oh there were TWO Eevees missing and I stuck them in this pic lol I CAN'T EVEN REMEMBER WHAT I TOOK PICTURES OF HOORAY anyway, Eeveelutions! I obviously favor certain evolutions over others |3 Eventually I would like to get at least one Espeon, Glaceon and Leafeon, just to say I have them all. But there is one more Eeveelution that I couldn't fit here... 

...cause she BIG. My life-sized Sylveon takes the prize of biggest plushie I own. She hangs out at the foot of my bed uvu (also her ears are top heavy/don't have any wires in them so they've clearly flopped backwards...but she cute any way you slice it TAT) 

THE PIKAS. ...Somehow I thought I had more Pikas than this. (Oh wait, I DO...they're just coming later cause they're in a special category |3 ) this is still a good amount of Pikas! Detective Pika is extraordinarily soft he's very good TAT;;; also two Raichu cause I don't have enough Raichu to take a separate pic of. 

Mimis! I have a couple other Mimis that are also in the special category coming up hehe. Big Mimi was stuck in customs for a month after I got him so I'm glad he made it home eventually TAT;;; 

HERE WE GO I have...a lot of Litten. Litten is my baby. Best Poke-kitty for me. I love my Litten TAT///// 

PICHU PICHU PICHUUUU!!! My ultimate baby TAT///// Pichu so good...so happy to have so many Pichu...aaaa///// but wait, there are Absol here too?? Well, yes, of course. For I am a Pichu and my love is an Absol. So. I had to take pictures of the plushies together uvu 

Some Large Friends that got their own picture. That rolly Charizard was the first thing I ever won from a crane game; I was ridiculously proud of myself |D;;; 

SPECIAL CATEGORY: Halloween Pokes!!!! The PokeCen always has an Extremely Good Halloween campaign and it makes me angry...they're all so good...TAT//////// 

Aaand! Best for last!! SE plushies T//u//T The middle two Souls are very beat up, ahaha....I've had the smaller one for over a decade and the bigger one for almost a decade, so...they've gotten a lot of love//// (plus it is also funny to tease Soul - u know I'd give u a hug over the plushies any day baaaaaabe u3u) I really want to get Liz, Patty, and Tsubaki too, but Tsubaki is SUPER hard to find and I don't want to get Liz and Patty and not her TAT;;; there are also Excalibur plushies...............but I think I'm ok without an Excalibur plushie sjdkfghsdfg OH also not pictured; I do have a plush Shinigami glove |D

So! There it is! The hoard! If I were a dragon this would be my treasure hoard! It was nice to go through this so if you went through it with me I hope you had fun too!

[thespiritofthoughts1234]

The warriors

              Hi, my name is Isabela! I live in a small town called Ocna’s Village in Romania. Actually, I was born in Italy, but I’ve moved to Romania without knowing why, ok when I moved, I was a baby so is pretty logic to not know lots of things on that young age…Eh, doesn’t matter, cause now I don’t wanna tell you my story, but I really want to discuss about Dimension F35A.

                F35A is a place where everything that appears to be unrealistic, impossible or even dumb on this planet it can happen there. Now you might ask yourselves: “How can a little girl know so much about an interdimensional world”, well I know because I WAS THERE. You know, a very long time ago it was known about a rock that once rubbed by someone, it could create a portal between dimensions. That rock was called then a “curly rock”, a natural object that can be modeled in any other form, in today’s world it can be recognized in bracelet form and you can purchase it at an affordable price… (I swear I don’t make advertisement) …not true, actually you get it from birth (not literally anyone can say that).

               This dimension was perfect for my imagination, but it comes out that…I couldn’t get there till I turned 7…okay, technically, even at that age I still could NOT go in that universe, so I took my mom’s bracelet -I know that I’m not a good role-model, but I was DESPERATE, I asked her each year on my birthday (to be more convincing), and guess what she told me…I’ll make a scheme to show you my agony: -3years=No.

                  -4years=No!

                  -5years=NO!

                  -6years=NOO!

                  -7years=NOOO!

                So, it turns out that I’ve woken up for 8 years (1 year was under warranty) at 6 am because I had a “noghtmare” (eh, eh, get it…anyway, I wanted to make a pun but I noticed that no one laughed…L-LET’S KEEP GOING).

                  Ok, so when I first got in, I saw… a party with ponies and rainbows, that is what you were thinking...well, YOU’RE WRONG, it was just an unending war with random characters, it means that Batman could fight Bambi or something like that. Anyway! I looked around, everything was a chaos, but I’ve noticed something weird, I realized that everyone in there was fighting for a purpose or covering themselves or conquering new territories, so I made up a purpose too…the most important one. The thing that actually matters is that someone must clean this mess, a person that must be good, brave, and WORTHY FOR SUPREME LOYALTY, a creature that will stop this disaster.

And that’s why I’m…going to find it, what did you think that I am the person, no, not even a word, I won’t get into those knuckleheads, they freak me out.

                So, I transformed myself into a mouse and tried to reach the closest spot to hide (a rock…t-there will be many rocks in this story). And exactly when I thought that I’m safe, a giant robot crushed me (obviously I didn’t die because after you are crushed, sliced, shot, burnt, etc. you get back to your home dimension). But a second before game over I saw an iconic red color being, with deep black eyes that penetrate souls, three fox tails, two fox ears and one fox nose, who wore a leaf that covered all of its body, and who appeared to be a little bit confused by the chaos behind him, but in the end, he still crossed the road, very chill, to resolve his problems. I scanned it to have it like “skin” in the future (Minecraft users in the public, or Standoff or PUBG, whatever) but what future, because that stupid stack of iron CRUSHED ME:

                  --Hmm, what if I turn in that thing? I did it. Ew, this leaf doesn’t work on me… therefore, I changed. I was wearing a blue vest, white shirt, black jeans and brown boots…BOOM, it’s betTEEEER! I was screaming because a giant iron sole was going to crush me again (I would give a reply but I don’t have one…OH, WAIT, it looks like we can’t STEP inside without being CRUSHED by hospitality, HA HA, I’m a horrible pun maker…BACK TO THE STORY). However, I’m talking about one second before the impact, I ran but not like a penguin, I ran like FLASH:

                    --WHAT THE…WOW, I am running with the speed of light (clearing throat), doesn’t matter, now let’s find that person…I will look over mountains and valleys, lakes and oceans, and I will be recognized like “The random girl who brought the hero of this world” … after I will visit this place with the super-speed thing. Now I think I went through 3 kingdoms -I despite no one saw me- And then I arrived on a land with a dense fog, without…(cough)…clEAn AiR:

                    --NO…I need…(COUGH)…to continue mY qUeSt-not too far away from me stand a humanoid silhouette…at least that’s what I thought…however, I started to scream, powerless: PLEASE…(COUGH)…YOU, THE STRANGER IN THE HORIZON …I’M VERY YOUNG…EVEN IF I APPEAR TO BE IN MIDDLE AGE FROM THE DISTANCE AND UNCLEAN AIR! I fainted waking up in a cave:

                  --(Clearing throat again)…Uh, where am I? I said after being a little dizzy.

                   Suddenly a sound came out of nowhere, like a growl:

                  --W-what? Who’s there? I asked scared. An animal came out of shadow, actually it was the same animal that I saw a few moments ago: You again! What do you want for appearing in those mysterious ways? the animal growled harder showing its big fangs: Uuuh, what BIG fangs you got there, buddy, ha, ha! Wait do I have fangs too?! What’s your name? No, no, no, how do your friends call you? I have many questions about…you…I was slowly going back, because the animal was slowly coming to me. Unfortunately, I reached the end of the cave: Understand that I mean no harm, although we are in the same species, no…I scanned you, didn’t I…I scanned you…and I transformed into you, I hope you don’t want to…EAT ME?! I said with a worried expression.

                    After the last phrase the humano-animal -partial human, partial animal- for a second it stopped, and then it came rapid, got its huge bloody red color claws out -literally anything is red on you? – Well in that moment I nodded and I said:

                      --N-nice…c-claws. Did you do your manicure?... the best pun that I could tell to a creature with an unpredictable behavior, oh and more than that,

before I didn’t know if she/he was furious or happy, because I was seeing just his/her dark eyes -even the gender is unknown-, and after that innocent joke its eyes changed a lot, they were yellow with a keen red iris. “OH MY GOD I’M SO DEAD!” I said to myself…BUT yes, of course, I can’t die in this dimension, yeah thank you for reminding me, I don’t need to worry…just if I bump into a particularly type of being…a being that can destroy anyone and anything…

                          Is known about an ancient legend that reveals some sort of creatures, warriors, who disintegrate everything that stays in their way, although it doesn’t exist in their dimension, it’s speculated that those legendary creatures are the most dangerous beings in the multiverse…who told me? ... Mama told me!... Ok I don’t know how those legends look, but I hope that the respective humano-animal wasn’t a part of those fighters -WAIT A SECOND I HAVEN’T NAMED THE GUY YET, hmmm…let’s see…Neferis…no, to Grecian…Falohe, no, to Hawaiian, hmmm…Do…Ba…Aaaa I know, Zentofea, why this name? I DON’T KNOW!

                      Back to the story: That Zentofea -Oh gosh, I love this name- came closer to me being just as predictable as unpredictable like before, but the Zeantofea…Zen-a-to-fe-a?... seeming to be more furious. I said quickly:

                      --WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME! the Zento- Agh- that humano-animal, appeared to attack me, …but no, he/she? Destroyed the boulder behind me to make clear way to the outside world…really nice gesture from a   wild animal…By the way, after that giant stone, there was a pasture full of cold crystal flowers - why didn’t they named them ice flowers-: WOW, I hope you wanted to do this for the first time, because you might just miss and… Ya’ know…

                       At first, the animal had a disapproving look, and then it smiled and leaved:                    

                       --Ok…anyway…I’M GOOD! Now I seriously need to find that person, the battlefield is getting dirty, and I don’t want to clean the mess…I made a few turns in the pasture…aaand then I got lost…Um…I think I should go in that way…or that way…or…that…way…uuuh, …HEEEELP! After the previous phrase a humano-animal came out of the forest near the pasture: DUDE, if I owe you, every time you appear, I’ll buy you a yacht. Then the animal came closer, showing itself not being a Zentofea, but a humano-animal with a body of a wolf, a more evolved wolf, with human head and some different sized crystals placed uniform on the fluffy chest -I should wear glasses.

                       It came and smelled me:

                       --Uuuh, are you some sort of dog? it has stopped from smelling for a second and showed his sharp fangs… sharper than Zentoffe-a’s ones -I’m still thinking how to pronounce it correctly-…anyway…of course I got scared: UUUH, GOOD BOY, GOOD BOY, SIT! He growled: WHAT, DID I OFFENDED YOU IN SOME WAY?!SAY! LOOK I DON’T KNOW WHO YOU ARE AND WHAT YOU ARE, BUT TO KNOW THAT TODAY IS MY FIRST DAY IN HERE, AND ALL THE ANIMALS ALREADY HATE ME!

                        --Get out of our territory, Zentofea!

                       --Ooooh, so it’s pronounced Zentofe-e-a, ok I noted AND HEY, HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT NAME, and did you say “OUR territory”!? after that phrase, a bunch of more humano-animals came out of the forest. Ya’ know, don’t ya’ think you have to many friends? They were slowly approaching me, I know, you think that I could’ve escaped, but the answer is NO, I couldn’t escape because I was surrounded, and I also know I could have jumped, but those animals seemed to have springs instead of legs, really now, I think they evolved from kangaroos…Siberian kangaroos. Many of those animals had an white with a little of black fur, WE C-CONTINUE: So I was there surrounded by those oversized human-headed dumb dogs, I was helpless, TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII- increase the suspense-IIIIIIIIIIIILLL … nothing happened, I’m kidding, I figure it out that:” BUT WAIT I HAVE SECRET WEAPONS TOO!”. I tried to annoy myself to get my claws out, first time it didn’t work, and then I thought about the most annoying thing for me, not even this worked because I love all the things unless the things that I hate, so I went to Karate, Judo, and putting my fingers in other one’s eyes:

                       --OUCH, WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!

                        --That’s how I know!

                        Even with my MASTER moves, I still couldn’t stop those hundreds of humano-wolves - hmm, surprising- until one bit my tail. In that moment I was angry- I took out the sharp fangs, yellow eyes with small pupil and iris, big claws, now I don’t boast myself, but I took down at least 20 wolves, ok I boast myself a little bit. Doesn’t matter because everything happened in my MIND, after that guy who I put my fingers in his eyes, another one threw a stump in my head.

                         I woke up tied up of a plank, carried by 4 human-wolves -I’ll name them later- to the chief of the tribe. They put me in a cage, still tied, with fire under the cage, very chill. The chief said:

                         --Oh, divine spirit of the frozen forest we give you this offering in exchange of a great dinner.

                         --An offering for a great dinner? Do you know that you can hunt? I mean you’re half wolves after all!

                         --GASP, who would’ve done such a shameful deed!? They looked offended.            

                        --Says the guy who is making an offering to a horse!

                         --It’s a majestic wolf!

                         --Riiight, you really aren’t good at sculpture!

                         --Oh, yes, we are, everyone is criticizing us, and why aren’t you worried, you’ll be burnt, are you a player?

                         --OF COURSE, I AM -a brilliant idea just crossed my mind- n-not…of course I am NOT a player, because I’m a destroyer undercover!

                         A sound of surprise came from tribe:

                          --Wait a second why did you smell like a Zentofea?

                          --Well, it’s a special thing that none of you heard about, it’s called perfume!

                          --Oh!

                          --A-and if you don’t untie me, I’ll destroy you ALL!

                          --But if you’re a destroyer and you can destroy us, why didn’t you destroy the rope and the cage already?

                          --Uh- OH, yeah…uh, thanks…I forgot I can… DO… that -I was pretending to concentrate to destroy the cage, but as an amazing coincidence, a thing came out of nowhere and cut the iron box and saved me…still tied up…but free…i-in a way. Uuuuh, yeah, I telepathically sent a message to a recruit to save me, good job soldier! I caressed his head, good part he was fluffy, bad part he pulled out a laser gun from his pocket and pointed it to my forehead, he had 2 guns, the other one was pointed at the public -how dangerous can be a creature with 3 feet high:

                           --Run! Said The Short One, that’s how I call him, with a deep voice.

                           --I would’ve run already, if I haven’t my legs TIED UP!

                           --A Zentofea has stronger muscle power in lower limbs!

                           --…Yes…

                           --…That means that you can rip the string that ties your legs!

                           --Ooooh! I ripped the strings and I ran… after a few seconds I stopped and I returned to The Short One.

                           --WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING, I TOLD YOU TO RUN!

                           --I won’t let you down!

                           --I’ve been here more than you so I learned a lot in my time!

                           --Ok, I trust you on this, but can I do somethin’?

                            --Yes, try to survive!

                            --…I hope I can do that!

                            Well, it appears that The Short One had a plan to escape from that situation, I don’t know how, but The Short One shot with the laser gun in a cold crystal (ice), bounced off another two cold crystals (two pieces of ice), and then to the base of a tree, that rip causing a chain reaction, putting down tree by tree, the last tree falling in front of the angry crowd:

                           --WOOOOW!

                           --COME ON, I CREATED A DIVERSION!

                           --But, wait, how did you know that tree was going to fall in front of them? I have said while I was running with The Short One.

                           --D-do you really want to know?

                           --Uh, yes?

                           --Really, no one has asked me about this for a decade!

                           --Uh, about what?

                           --Science stuff…oh my God…I’m…so…excited…(clears throat) ok I’ll tell you…GASP, first time I calculated the area between the laser gun and the target, and then I’ve calculated the variables- he continued talking until I realized that we both have stop from running.

                           --Uh, dude ya know…an entire squad of human-wolves with six packs is like…following us!

                           --…And then I measured…

                           --…Uh, maaan?

                           --…But the distance was equal with…

                           --I beg you to stop!

                           --…So, I created a way to…

                           --Sigh, who am I kidding? I took him by the arm and jumped in a tree.

                           --…Although if I would’ve taken the theory…

                           --CAN YOU KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT…please? I put my hand to his mouth and I pointed to the tribe that passed us.

                             --Oh, yeah, I-I’m sorry!

                             --Look, man, I understand your excitement, I think you’re a little lonely here by your independent character, but can ya wait until we get rid of this dorks?        

                             --Yeah, I know, and by the way I’m a girl!

                             --You are a girl, but how do you have such a deep voice? SHE took her mask off!

                             --It’s a changing voice device, dear!  

                             --Oh. My. Goodness. YOU ARE SO CUTE! I think she was the cutest specie of humano-animal that I’ve ever met in my life. I hugged her… SHE WAS FLUFFY!

                             --Look, that’s why I’m always wearing a mask…ok, this and other 3 reasons!

                             --Daaww, why, like someone would really attack you?

                             --Yes, many would attack me, players, qualified and unqualified hunters, maybe…MY OWN ENEMIES!?

                             --Aaww, but wait, you have enemies?

                             --Yes!

                             --Why?

                             --Because of my high intelligence!

                             --Really, well, that means that you have common enemies with many of your species.

                             --Meh, not really, I’m a very rare case, usually creatures in my species are…

                             --Let me guess, dumb, goofy, jerks, but with no reason?  

                             --I wanted to say idiots, but your description is much more extensive.

                             --I know how it feels, I mean a lot of people from my species are like that!

                             --Zentofea?

                             --No, humans…but I have one question, how does everybody know about this name? I named that creature!

                             --Uh, no, it has been named like that since forever!    

                             --How?...

                             --Look, stop asking useless questions and care about your purpose!

                             --My purpose…OH YEAH, MY PURPOSE, I FORGOT ABOUT IT!

                             --How can you forget your own objective?

                             --My PURPOSE…is that an ocean? I’d said while I was exiting the forest.

                             --Yes, the terrestrial space from this planet is predominant in isles and archipelagos!

                             --DAMN IT, how am I going to cross the ocean now?

                             --But why do you want to cross it? Do you need to cover a territory?

                             --No…

                             --Do you want to conquer a territory?

                             --…No…

                             --Then why do you want to cross the ocean?

                             --I want to change the world!

                             --Wait, you want to change the world…alone?

                             --Nope, that’s why I’m looking for a person to help me!

                             --Wow, really…wow, you’re the first person who said that! Hey, HEY, what are you doing? I took off my boots, I rolled up my jeans and I tried to run above the water, for 3 seconds I really have run above the water, and then I began to sink. I swam back to the beach.

                              --So, do you wanna tell me…where…the heck…were you thinking?

                              --I thought that I could run on water.

                              --Kiddo, if in your dimension exists some force who keep things together, however are you calling…

                              --Gravity…

                              --I knew about that name, I’m a genius, I just wanted to clarify that you know what I’m talking about…What I wanted to say, is that, the respective force exists in this universe too, but it acts with a different attraction.

                              --Aha, so what other idea do you have?

                              --Hmmm, first, you still didn’t answer the previous question!

                              --Well, I think the person might be after the ocean!

                            --Do you think that this motivation is certain, I mean isn’t assuming an attempt to know something that can be inexistent, do you really think, in this life anything can have a scope, don’t you think that life is an illusion meant to prepare us of everything what can be beyond the bars of reality?

                              I remained without words:

                              --I made this up 10 seconds ago, what’s so hard to understand?

                              --No, no…I-I understood!

                              --Then why are you doing this!

                              --Um, I don’t know…I think I just needed an adventure!

                              --Then why did you choose to change this world?

                              --I don’t kn-…YOU KNOW WHAT, leave me alone with those weird questions, you’ll provoke me an existential crisis!

                              --Ok!

                              --I just wanted to know How. Can. I. Cross. THE DAMN OCEAN?  

                              --Stay chill kid, I’ve got this! She took out a thing from her pocket and she blew in it, then a 45 feet animal came out of water and it wasn’t a blue whale. A little help from a seahorse!

                               --You can’t put the words “seahorse” and “little” referring to that thing!

                               --Oh, yes, I can. Player, say hi to Rudolf!

                               --RUDOLF? WHAT ARE YOU…SANTA…THE BARBARIAN!?

                               --Not really. Rudolf, say hello to the player! He said hello…i-in his language.

                               --Yep, I’m clearly going to make a raAAF- the monster picked me and sank into the water!

                               --Bye, bye, bon voyage through the ocean!

                               The monster took me to a temple under the water. In temple:

                                --COUGH…when I said to cross the ocean I DIDN’T MEAN UNDER WATER! All the torches in the room blew up.

                                --Greetings, my dear child! Said an old lady when she appeared from nowhere in front of my face.

                                --HOLY SHAMALAMA…sigh…ma’am I think you have the wrong person!

                                --No, no, that’s how I tell to the visitors!

                                --Ooo, so, you have tourists…riiight!

                                --No, every new player comes to me for the closet! She showed me like a Chinese closet -I made a redundancy, everything is made in China.

                                 --Closet, do you have problems with the furniture?

                                 --No, they get in it!

                                 --So…you kidnap kids... I’m calling the police!

                                 --No, you didn’t understand, it will be worth, plus is no police station in the middle of the ocean!

                                 --You’re the creepiest person I’ve ever met in my life!

                                 --Many people say that! Now, come on, it doesn’t bite!

                                 --At least I got rid of a fear! I got in the closet, immediately after I got in, I remained unconscious and I woke up in another world.

                                 I’ve heard a girly voice:

                                 --WARM WELCOME TO THE DIMENSION OF THOUGHTS! Said a grey colored skin girl with black clothes and amber colored eyes. And I’m the Spirit of Thoughts!

                                 --AAAAA!

                                 --Hmm, I thought that a Zentofea wouldn’t fear of literally everyone who says hello!

                                 --How did you know about that…AND MORE IMPORTANT, HOW DOES EVERYBODY KNOWS ABOUT THAT NAME!?

                                 --Well, first, I know what every player thinks, and second, I know about that name because I put it!

                                 --But ho-

                                 --How do I know that? Well, the answer is in the name, MY NAME, DUH!

                                 --And how did I-

                                 --And how did you name it? Ho ho, well, that’s simple kid, it’s because all of those subliminal messages that I left around the place!

                                 --If-

                                 --If I control the thoughts, why didn’t I end the war, yet? …It’s because that war shouldn’t end, it’ll declare the true leader of this world, like you said it must be a good, brave, and worthy person to clean this mess.

                                --An-

                                --And that means-

                                --Oh, will you please let me talk?

                                --Ok, go ahead!

                                --…And that means I’ll have to fight to make a little difference?

                                --Kid, I think that you will change the whole world, trust me, I don’t say this to any other player…but you have to fight for that, although it’s like the real life!

                                --Yeah…it is!

                                --…So, are you ready for your first match?

                                --Y-yes…yes, I do! Let the game begins.

[cutegirlmayra]

Sonic OVA: Sonamy AU

Birthday week! So exciting! I’m posting as many prompts as I can while it’s my birthday week! :D EEEEeeeee!!!! It’s gonna be so much fun! It’s my treat for all my wonderful readers out there who have supported me so much! Here’s a little birthday gift to you from me!

Yes, prompts and commissions are open ;)b (However, if you’ve already submitted 3 prompts, please let others have a go too and hold off, okay?)

Prompt:

It wasn’t long after Sonic went off on his own to find Metal Sonic that a familiar pink hedgehog showed up again in his life. Rosy the Rascal, as he heard others call her, stepped out in his way boldly but with a sweetheart expression on her face as he skidded to a halt.

Normally, he wouldn’t bother, and just race around her. However, this time there was some serious danger afoot. “Look, it’s not wise to follow me this time, Rosy.”

As he folded his arms, keeping a neutral expression on his face, she opened her eyes and raised her intertwined hands up to her pinkening face, clearly love-struck by catching his attention enough to have him wait for her to move.

“Sonic, my love, I’ve heard the awful news of what Eggman has done to you.” She began, but Sonic just raised an eyebrow and sweated a little, not sure what she was getting at.

“He does a lot on his spare time...” he grumbled, not really understanding himself why he was pausing to explain things to her.

He didn’t really mind being rude when he needed to be... anyway... so why give her a second?

“I’ve heard that he’s made a robot in your handsome image!” Her eyes opened to reveal a starlit darling that craved her hero’s safety and happiness above all things. “So I’ve come to trash that robot and put your mind at ease. He’s clearly using it to give you a bad name, and I won’t allow it!” she swayed her body back and forth a moment and lowered her bundled together hands down, ceasing to blush as his eyes remained annoyingly on her.

He lowered his eyelids, clearly frustrated and to prove it, he started to tap his foot and put his hands on his hips. “Are you done yet with the cutesy act, already? Look, flattery gets you no where in life and besides that, you’re not as cute as you’re pretending to be. Either step aside and let me handle my own affairs or get somewhere safe. I don’t have time to play around with you.” He swished his arm out, and she opened her eyes in a flinch at his words.

“Y-you... You aren’t bothered by what Eggman’s making you look like?” She seemed shocked to hear that, and quivered as he responded, parting her hands in horror.

“I couldn’t care less what Eggman makes me out to be, everyone can tell that it’s a silly impostor and not me.” He suddenly widened his eyes a moment in realization when Amy cupped her face and looked embarrassingly away from him. “Or... rather... is it just you that didn’t see the difference?”

He knew he was right, and his eyes drooped again at the nonsense of that innocent mistake.

“Oh, how embarrassing!” she covered her face as awkward tears sprayed from the side of her face in an animated way, “Not even recognizing my betrothed! I’m so ashamed! I don’t deserve to be your girlfri-ien-iend!!!” she whined in hopelessness.

Feeling something like--perhaps wanting to comfort her--he nervously held out a hand out to her, “H-hey, no need to cry over it... If it’s a honest mistake, then you probably just didn’t see it clearly enough...”

He twitched back when she peeked through her hands, looking perfectly fine. “You say... everyone could tell?”

He sighed, looking annoyed again that he fell for her girlish act. “Everyone.” he countered, growing upset he so easily was led into that farce.

She covered her face again, “Bo-ho-ho!” she faked the distressful tears, hoping he’d stay longer to soothe her ‘troubled heart’ but he just began to back up and stretch.

“Nice touch on improving the cutesy act, Rosy. But I really don’t have time to cheer up little girls who clearly can find better things to do with their day. See ya!” he raised himself a few times on his toes for the last remaining stretches and then zoomed at light-speeds to curve around her and take off.

“Ah! That meanie! Doesn’t he know he’s leaving me in the middle of nowhere! His fiance for Pete’s sake!” she straightened herself out and threw her arms down by her sides, disappointed her ploy for his tender mercies didn’t work. She sighed, watching his dust cloud take to the wind, “Honestly, sometimes I wonder how I’ll ever keep up...”

Then, as though blurring into existence, Metal Sonic’s red eyes and the rest of his menacing form sketched in behind her like lines on a television screen glitch--due to how fast he was moving, that was the image created as he looked off at Sonic, then only turned his eyes to the side to look to her.

“Huh?” Rosy turned around, “Ahhh!!! Sonic, help me!” she crunched her body to the right to avoid his frame and fell to the ground, crawling backwards, “S-stay away, you big fat fake! Ha! Ha! HA!” She kept throwing tiny hammer toys at him, but they just ‘piko’d off his metallic hide as he walked after her.

“Whhaaa!!! You don’t give up, do you!? Why can’t Sonic be this interested in me!” she shrieked, forming light fists with her hands and putting them up by her face as she cried out again, “SOOONNICCC!!!”

In her desperate cries, flowers were placed before her.

“H-huh?” She turned back shocked, “What’s this? Is this for me?” She looked up amazed as Metal Sonic continued to remain cold and silent, presenting the gift.

“Ohh... d-do you want me to take them?” She bent her eyes a bit, not sure what this was...

Metal Sonic lowered his head, and little robotic noises seemed to answer her in return.

“W-well, that’s very kind of you, but I’m in love with Sonic. The real Sonic, okay?” She held up a hand, then pushed his flowers back towards him. “And I’ve already made him upset by mistaking him for those rumors about what you’ve done! So the best way to make up for it is to kindly reject you and be on my way, sound fair?” She got up and dusted herself off, sighing and wiping some sweat from her forehead. “Phew, glad that’s over with. Now that Sonic knows my eyes are only for his organic shape and heroic smile, he won’t think twice about marrying me!” She daydreamed and swooned as she looked up to the sky and held her hands to the side of her face, longingly.

Metal Sonic’s hand twitched, and he ripped the flowers into blades of grass. His red eyes glowed brighter than before in clear rage before taking a powerful stance, as though ready to rush her.

“Ah! H-hey, what’s with the sudden change of atmosphere, huh?” Rosy zipped back in an blur, not wanting to be so close to him as he seemed to power up. “I-I’ve rejected boys before but this seems a little extreme, don’t you think? S-S...Sonnnicccc!!!” she cried out and ran, but dirt whipped up around Metal Sonic as his engine rotated to rapid speeds and pursued her.

Picking her up, he took off into the air as she cried out, “NOT AGGGAAIINN!!!”

Hearing her getting closer in the distance, Sonic just let out an exasperated sigh and looked over his shoulder, “What does she want now? Huh?” Seeing Metal Sonic holding her above, his expression quickly changed to anger. “What’s that?! Come and get her? You punk,... alright. Have it your way. But I still don’t get why you have to get little Rosy involved in all this.” He took off towards some protruding metal spikes that were also buried under thick dirt and sand, racing up it to jump and take on Metal Sonic.

Metal Sonic dropped Rosy and battled Sonic, having her cry out as she fell through the air. “Noooo..!!!”

“Rosy!” Sonic broke out of the fight with Metal Sonic to reach for her, but he went behind Sonic, his spikes not bothering his metal body. Sonic was held in a choke hold while still struggling to jump down and free her.

“She may be small, but her hammer packs a punch, I remember that much!” A twirling duo of fox tails burst and jumped over the different protruding spikes, dashing over with a homing-attack to knock Sonic out of Metal Sonic’s grasp and then fly off to grab Amy, “Got’cha! Miss Amy Rose, right?”

“Oh, you remembered.” Rosy looked up to him, amazed by his speedy entrance.

“Remember? I still have a bump on my head!” Tails called her out as she twitched her ear from him yelling directly into it. “Why is Metal Sonic so interested in using you against Sonic, though? I don’t get it.”

Rosy batted her eyes, “If you convince Sonic to protect me, then maybe you both won’t have to worry about it.”

“Oh, that’s a good point.”

“It’s not!” Sonic countered, kicking a final striking blow to Metal Sonic’s noggin’ and sending him down into the sand. “Tails! Help me out!” he held out his hand behind him, still glaring down at Metal Sonic as Tails flew to his side, having Rosy switch to his other hand, “Errr... Are all hedgehogs this hard to carry?” he held his nose up, struggling to keep both hands on them.

“Ah! How rude! Sonic, teach your sidekick some manners!” Amy huffed.

“Manners?! Lady, I’m his best friend!” Tails protested, but helped the two down to safety.

“Best friend, huh? Well, I guess every groom still needs a best man. Okay, you can come along too.” She put her hands on her hips as though judging Tails, as he bent his ears back, not liking her forwardness in how blunt she was.

“You’re still on about that?” Sonic spat out, “And give it a rest, Tails, she’s only formidable when her opponents play by the rules, isn’t that right, Metal me?” After defending Tails a moment, he turned back to Metal Sonic, getting up from the impact his face made with the ground.

“I hope I got a new dent in that face.” he smirked, folding his arms. “What’s with you picking on little girls anyway? Didn’t Eggman every teach you not to bully those weaker than you?” he wagged his infamous finger out to him, and heard Metal Sonic’s engine blare in the distance. “Heh, guess not.”

“I’m not weak!” Rosy summoned another Piko Piko Hammer, but this one was slightly bigger than the last few she tossed. “See? Ha-ha-ha!” she swung it around, forcing Tails to duck and fling his two tails over his head protectively, but Sonic just ‘tsk’d as if not impressed.

“I’ll deal with you later, kid.”

“I’m not a kid!” Rosy stomped her foot down. “I’m gonna be your wife!”

Sonic rolled his eyes, “Anyway... back to reality, is that scrapped head of yours able to understand, Metal Me? Let’s settle this, hedgehog to machine, and leave them out of this!” He waited for a response after holding a hand out to Rosy and Tails.

He pulled Amy behind him, almost instantly as she was flung to his side and hid behind him, admiring his protectiveness of her.

“S-Sonic...” Her eyes shone before realizing what he had said before. “B-but-!”

He held her against him as he pointed back to Metal Sonic, “Quit sticking your nose into other people’s lives, Metal Me, what are you? Desperate or something?” she was amazed to be in his arms a moment before he lightly let her go and stumble over to Tails in her dreamy step. “Girls hate it when you hog them all to yourself, don’t ya know?” He kept taunting, getting Metal Sonic even more revved up now.

“B-but I can hit real hard...” Rosy muttered, her lower lip trembling as Tails got back up, lightly patting her head.

“There, there. Sonic’s just trying to distract Metal him from not targeting you again.” he explained, but quickly moved his hand behind his back, still not sure how to take the silly little fan-girl.

Though, he did admire Sonic, he felt she was a bit more of a extremist in her hero worship than his idolizing of Sonic.

Still, he felt he understood--somewhat--of how she felt towards him.

She sniffled in her budding tears, “You... You really think so?” She looked towards him and he nodded.

“Sure! He probably heard you pleading for help and couldn’t stop himself from jumping in. That’s Sonic for ya, always a helpful guy.” He praised him, as Rosy wiped her tears away.

“You’re much better than I thought you were, Tails! I’m glad Sonic has a buddy to help him out on his dangerous adventures! Let’s be friends!” She jumped into his arms, but he immediately dodged her, holding his hands out as the whites of his eyes were exposed in his fear.

“N-no-no, that’s okay! Just hearing you say that is enough!” he panicked, still afraid of the girl’s strength from the fighting tournament.

Sonic ditched the two, leaving Rosy to cry out, “H-hey! Where are you going!?”

“To fight.” He responded, keeping his eyes glued to Metal Sonic, waiting for him...

“Ah! W-without us!” She looked worried, but Tails also seemed to match her concerns, stepping forward with his arms to his sides.

“You’re gonna leave me behind again..? Oh, rats!” He snapped his fingers and looked disheartened.

“Do yourself a favor, Amy,”

She perked up at him using her real name.

“...Don’t get involved.” he stated very firmly, and went to take down Metal Sonic in another all-out duel again.

Her heart was broken by his words, but she stayed out of the battlefield since.

Later, Knuckles and Tails were watching the end play out, and the many awards Sonic was rejecting receiving that Sara and her father were trying to force him to wear and accept but failing miserably too.

Rosy didn’t like Sara’s fawning of him but listened in on Old Man Owl and the boys’ conversation...

“So you’re saying...” Tails began, looking a bit worried at his words.

“Precisely!” Old Man Owl hooted, “If what you said is true, I have a theory!”

“But saying that Metal Sonic actually liked that hedgehog girl because he was being influenced by Sonic’s data doesn’t add up.” Knuckles, incredulous as ever, leaned forward accusingly and shook his gloved hand out, turning his head to the side as he spoke a bit down to the mad owl.

“Ho? Isn’t it obvious?” the old owl could have sworn he was right. “She is a cute girl, after all.”

Rosy’s renewal and faith in Sonic beat back into her heart like a rocker’s drum. Hearts flew all around her as she thought to herself, ‘Aw, he must be too shy to confess such things upfront!’

“If that’s true, then Sonic has some odd tastes! And not just in looks alone!” Tails laughed.

Rosy blinked her eyes a moment, then turned to the boys, summoning her hammer to an exceptionally large height and width. “What did you say?”

The three flinched, having huddled up and not realizing she could hear them..!

But that’s when Sonic blazed by, grabbing Rosy and holding her bridal style without a word, just rushing her off with him.

“O-oh!” she blushed, her hammer disappearing from her clutches, and reverting to her coy manners. “Sonic... is everything alright?”

“I’m taking you home.” He stated, shaking his head then suddenly, “Ugh, anyone every tell you--you smell like flowers and machine oil. Peh!” he must have meant her run-in with Metal Sonic, but she swooned into his chest anyway.

“I knew you cared!” she chimed.

“About your smell? Keep dreaming, you rascal!”

[pluviophile-bookworm]

AWAE 2x9 rewatch: thoughts and reactions

This review is dedicated to Dalila Bela, who turns 19 today. Happy birthday!

After a long wait, there she is at last - Muriel Stacy, decorating her new home with potato stamps. What a lovely way to show she is a kindred spirit. She’s basically like an older Anne. 

Marilla and Anne utter the same words upon passing Miss Stacy, who is cycling in the opposite direction at top speed - ‘My heavens!’ - except their intonations are so different. Marilla is shocked at the sight of the unconventional-looking stranger, while Anne is in awe of her, and especially the fact that she’s wearing trousers. I don’t think the women of Avonlea, be they progressive mothers or not, won’t be so fascinated with her, though.

And again, Miss Stacy acts exactly like an older Anne, going on and on about potatoes and tardiness and motorbikes before she’s even caught a breath. I can’t wait for Anne to finally meet her. And that concludes the cold open. 

I don’t care what Prissy and Josie, or their mothers, say about Miss Stacy- I’m with Anne on this one. They shouldn’t judge their new teacher before they’ve met her up close. She’ll warm her way into their hearts, I’m sure. I actually know it for a fact.

I simply cannot believe Billy brought a gun to school and is openly proclaiming he’s about to kill an animal, a living being, with it. And it’s not just any animal - it’s the fox, Anne’s fox. What has it done to him that he’s so personally violent towards it?

Again, Gilbert alone is the voice of reason (unlike season 3 Gilbert, who is the most confused individual I’ve ever seen and has the eyebrows to prove it). ‘There’s no fox here, so how about you put the gun away?’ It’s as if he speaks for me. 

Who does Billy think he is, calling his teacher ‘little lady’? He’s lucky she’s not Phillips, otherwise he wouldn’t get away with such disrespectful behaviour. 

Once again Anne uses the exact same words as someone else, but with a different intonation. Prim and proper Tillie’s ‘Oh my goodness!’ is one of disapproval (which she’s not to blame for, that’s probably just what her parents have taught her), while Anne’s is an expression of pure admiration and fascination. [Side note: Let’s put things into perspective, though - what would you think if your new teacher showed up to school with no bra on, on her first day at that? I don’t really know what to think of corsets anymore, so I’m not sure how to take this. You tell me.]

What, now Matthew and Jerry, two of my favourite AWAE men, want to catch the fox too? I understand it’s stealing people’s chickens, but hey, a fox must eat too, and it’s not like it can get its food in another way.

What’s happening to Bash? Is farm life not his speed? I’m worried about him, I hope he’s alright. 

For this next scene, the introductions, I’ll insert a note from when I first watched this episode. I notice I’ve been doing that a lot lately, but well, it seems I’ve got quite a lot of first impression notes on this season written down, so why not make them public now, here where it’s appropriate? Here goes:

And, just as I was fascinated, things got dramatically bad. Anne wouldn’t stop saying quite private things about everyone who spoke, and Miss Stacy reprimanded her for spreading gossip, resulting in her being unable to come up with words to describe herself (the method used for introductions was everyone would use words starting with their initials to describe themselves. I really wanted to know what Anne would have said about herself, as nobody else seemed to struggle much with the exercise (although I myself always do when asked to do it).

Alright, now I’d like to add something to this. When Ruby describes herself as ‘romantic’ and looked for a G word for ‘Gillis’, I could swear she thought of a certain young man right to her left - heck, she even looked at him before quickly blurting out ‘girl’. Well, yeah, she is a girl. But she’s also defining herself through Gilbert too much. I hope she knows how much potential she has beyond him. Besides, he only has eyes for Anne. I wish we’d got another season so we could see how far Ruby and Moody go. I liked them, but we saw too little of them together. #renewannewithane

Ok, but... it was like Miss Stacy just finished Anne’s sentence. ‘Ruby has a crush on...’ ‘Gilbert Blythe?’ Well, yes, but that’s not what we’re talking about. See, I’m noticing details I did not deem significant enough to note down the first time around. This is what rewatches are for. 

Rachel Lynde needs Marilla’s help. That’s a first. Oh, well, it’s rumours, what else. She’s against Miss Stacy. I really don’t like her right now. 

No, seriously, what is happening to Bash?

Of course, what the mothers of Avonlea fail to see is that, female or not, trousers or nor, corset or not, Miss Stacy is much more capable of teaching the young minds of Avonlea school than her predecessor. Or at least she’s much more willing to educate them properly. Of course she’ll tutor Gilbert. And Anne will soon find her way into her good graces. I hope. Nay, I know it. 

‘Appalling, stupid, clueless...’ this is what I hoped wouldn’t happen, but it happened anyway. Now Anne is beating herself up for the scrape she got into by complete accident. Gosh, I hope someone can fix this.

From my old notes:  And again, Cole knows how to fix things, and he does so, brilliantly I would say. Also, with the way he goes out into the nature, raises his hands and shouts out “Come to me, Muse!”, I can totally see him being a pagan... and who’s to say he’s not? I mean, Anne has the makings of one too, remember the Beltane ritual in season 3?

Rachel’s only job seems to be to stick her nose in other people’s business. She has no right to go around asking about Muriel’s marital status and whether she wants to be an old maid. But as anyone who’s watched the full series knows, this will be carried over into season 3.

Seriously, Rachel right now reminds me of Anne earlier with all the gossip, and I see now why she (Anne) made such a bad impression on Miss Stacy. Unfortunately, she (Miss Stacy) cannot assign Rachel Lynde an essay.

Anne’s mind is all taken over by the fox... so much that she’s fallen asleep over her papers... and now, disaster after disaster lead to a small fire, which grows into a bigger fire. If Anne’s essay burns in it, I’ll literally cry. I know a thing or two about lost work. Why, half of this very post I had to write a second time after my computer decided to restart the page with the unsaved draft open. But hey, this is not about me. 

So I guess they’ve figuratively and literally forced Miss Stacy into a corset. That’s sad. But I see she’s not giving up on her unique identity.

Oh, great, now the found brothers are fighting. I guess it turns out Bash’s problem is he’s inexperienced in farming and he needs help, but Gilbert is pursuing his own future now and doesn’t seem to care all that much. I feel bad for Bash. But we know Gilbert will stay at least another year and Bash will figure farming out by the time he has to leave. 

Ah, I see Anne is feigning sickness so as not to go back to Miss Stacy after yesterday’s fiasco. Well, I’d do the same if I were her, but I’m not quite sure that’s the best solution to the problem at hand. Marilla’s suggestion seems much better to me. Going together so Anne has someone to vouch for her... reasonable and concerned like a true mother.

I see Bash is trying to figure out horse-riding on his own. It looks tough. But he can manage it. 

It’s a shame Jerry won’t help Anne with the trap... but well, he was promised good money, and his large family is so poor... the ends sort of justify the means here. Still, Matthew is not in the right to plan on skinning the fox for money. 

Gosh, things are heating up between Shirbert. Anne seems to be all the more determined to find and develop her vocation now that Gilbert is working on his. And he doesn’t seem to care much about her feelings right now, being so busy studying and all. But I wonder how this whole thing really makes him feel. 

Hey, there are the potato light bulbs! The first science lessons Miss Stacy teaches the class. And they never forget it. How inspiring!

Hey, I just realised something. In her ramble in the cold open, Miss Stacy mentioned that you can use potatoes for a lot of purposes... well, here’s the second one she demonstrates in this episode. Stamps and... lighting a bulb.

Marilla, who took up Miss Stacy’s offer to stay and observe, seems to be a new supporter of the young teacher. See? If people only gave her a chance and saw what she does and how she does it, she might soon be a hit in town. But no, some choose to condemn her instead, as if she’s ever done them wrong. Just like the fox. Except the fox stole some chickens. Miss Stacy is perfectly innocent. 

And... poor clumsy Moody had to ruin everything just as Rachel and the ProgressiveTM mothers came in. Too bad. But hey, it’s him who recalled this very first lesson later on when they were graduating, isn’t it? 

Hey, Bash has gone to see Mary. Things are getting serious. I guess.

Alas, the mothers are not too pleased with how the lesson turned out. Luckily, Marilla was there to see the whole thing from beginning to end and can support Miss Stacy in front of the rest of the women. And it seems Gilbert and Anne are ready to step in and defend her as well. On their second day with her. That speaks volumes. 

Oh, so he’s visiting Mary to talk about Gilbert. But he also talks about himself and his idea to go deep into farming. His story is truly an inspiring one. And also, he’s staying with Mary for supper. As I said, things are getting serious. 

Anne decided to show Miss Stacy the story clubhouse... nice. But she’s made another blunder in doing so. She’s forgotten Cole is hiding there from his parents. And now they’ll force him into farming again... as my younger self said when I saw this for the first time, ‘this episode is one of the most devastatingly dramatic ones of this series – ever. What a way to lead up to the season finale’. I think that says it all. 

Ah, yes, nobody told Gilbert that Bash wouldn’t be home for supper this evening. Too bad... now he’ll think Bash has run away on him. Meanwhile, Bash is having a good time with Mary. But there’s no way for Gilbert to know that. How unfortunate. 

One shot, one gunshot and... wait, it seems the fox has not been killed yet. But the poor clubhouse... Billy is the worst person in this series, hands down. I can’t even. I’m crying. Real tears. Right now.

See, Anne’s blunder was not telling Miss Stacy about Cole. After all, she swore her to secrecy. But it was a blunder nonetheless because Miss Stacy takes her duty as a teacher more seriously than her promise to Anne. If only she’d known the full story... Cole might have been saved. 

Miss Stacy riding with Harmon Andrews... I wonder what Rachel, aka the Avonlea yellow pages, will make of that. 

‘Sometimes you just have to use your imagination.’ This is powerful because it comes from Marilla. Also, perhaps this is the hidden sense of humour that L.M.Montgomery talked about in the book, which I’m currently rereading. 

I can’t, I just can’t. Now Cole feels betrayed by Anne, and Anne is devastated about the clubhouse.... and the women of Avonlea are against Miss Stacy, and Matthew disappointed Anne... can nobody be happy in this episode? It’s truly tragical and devastating. I should not have opted for rewatching it right before going to bed, on a school night at that. How will I sleep now?

Gosh, Cole really has had it now. I’m not saying Billy Andrews did not deserve it (he did and he does), but violence is never the answer. Still, I guess it’s justified now. Too bad it will probably lead to even more trouble for Cole. See, even he’s scared of what he’s done. He surely didn’t mean for it to go that far. And to the creators - this is no way to end an episode.

Let’s sum up: we meet Miss Stacy; intonation matters; the fox is in danger; Billy the bully has a weapon now - how bad can things get?; Bash struggles with farming; Anne accidentally makes a bad impression on a kindred spirit; appalling, stupid, clueless; ‘Come to me, Muse!’; Rachel Lynde sticks her nose into things that are not her business - what else is new; potato light bulbs; Bash visits Mary; the clubhouse is destroyed; Anne accidentally betrays Cole, leading to dramatic consequences; a disastrous ending to a devastating episode.

[fangyymusic]

Some things I could imagine happening between my boyfriend and I’s fursonas and OCs:

1. Fang has his two friends over- Boris and K9- and they’re all playing a dumb game of Truth or Dare. Because K9 “Isn’t a wuss”, he picks dare. Fang clears his throat and asks for a pizza. Already realizing how he shouldn’t have said dare, K9 reluctantly pulls up his phone.

“What do you want?”

“Get us a medium pizza. Split it in half. One side just plain cheese and the other sausage. For Sirus.”

K9 sighs.

“Is that all?”

“Cheese sticks.” Sirus hisses while he stares K9 down and K9 proceeds to hate himself more as he puts that in.

“Are you going to at least share?” K9 asks the two boyfriends, whom are cuddling on the couch.

“No, you owe me.”

And, as usual, Fang was right. That dipshit always owes Fang money.

2. Sirus literally tying into Fang and playing Rocket League while they both wait. Fang has no idea how to feel about this.

3. Sirus tends to fall asleep in a variety of places around the house. Fang finds him napping in the corner of the couch curled up, under surfaces, and sometimes lodged in weird spaces like behind the couch or on the floor, plopped down right where that perfect, single ray of sunlight hits.

4. Fang makes breakfast for Sirus before he leaves to work. He likes to leave sticky notes for him too.

5. Something tells me Sirus’s diet is 5% spaghetti and the other 95% is Fang’s boy syrup (hAh boy syrup).

6. Sirus catches Fang listening to one of his songs. He’s humiliated, super flustered, and flattered at most. Then Fang proceeds to ask him if he’d like to make a song with them. Sirus melts, as per usual.

7. Sirus gets lonely super quickly when Fang isn’t around. Fang works most weekdays, so Sirus is usually home by himself. I feel like to cope with his loneliness, he’d call his friend Styrix over to hang out.

But he’s still lonely.

So he whips out his phone and begins to call Fang. When Fang answers, Sirus whines.

“Fang, honey, I miss you... I’m lonely and it’s been foreverrrr...”

Right in front of Styrix. Poor guy is a third wheel.

8. Fang has flowers in the front yard. Something tells me Sirus waters them if Fang forgets. Something about that is super cute.

9. Fang definitely squish’s Sirus’s cheeks.

10. Sirus blushing when Fang and Styrix begin showing off how impressive their maws are. He just has this dumb obsession with how big Fang’s teeth are.

11. They probably both have a height difference fetish to be honest.

12. Sirus REFUSES to let go of Fang’s tail and probably has gotten lost in it several times. He sleeps with it and is just obsessed.

13. Fang makes a self-deprecating joke and Sirus stops him and makes him eat his words. Sirus makes a self-deprecating joke and suddenly he’s showered with gifts, a fancy dinner is planned and probably some one-on-one sexy time. Nice.

14. Them. Freaking out over Monstercat artists. Essentially my boyfriend and I on that field.

15. I feel like Fang pays Styrix to cash in on his weird shenanigans.

16. If Styrix ever met Boris and K9 and got along with them, they’d all be the chaotic, stupid boy group to constantly annoy Fang and Sirus. Not that they don’t already, just the floor may be coated in soap one afternoon.

17. Boris and K9 are British so that means they don’t exist.

18. Fang and Sirus have like no friends and chronic crippling depression.

19. Sirus definitely likes to get Fang “excited” before important work meetings just for his own enjoyment.

20. Sirus definitely squeezes into weird spaces for no reason. He gets stuck often and needs his heroic boyfriend to get him out.

21. FANG. AND SIRUS. SINGING TOGETHER. ABOUT. THEIR. LOVE. Or just in general, that’s cool too.

22. Fang and Sirus dressing edgy together.

23. Fang is having a breakdown so he dabs on some glittery eyeshadow and sticks on some bizarre long lashes and Sirus walks in and casually asks to be done too. Just to accompany Fang.

24. If Fang is too anxious to check out in a store, Sirus will do it. And vice versa.

25. Fang sitting on the couch and Sirus is curled up around him, napping and purring.

26. Fang’s constant expression is simply just flat out exhausted and angry. His brows are always furrowed and you can visibly see how little sleep he got. Same with Sirus; his face is usually void to most emotion. Suddenly they see eachother and smiles explode on their faces and they become a hugging, kissing mess.

27. They hold hands in public.

28. Fang playing guitar and singing to Sirus during a hill picnic. He’s a hopeless romantic like that.

29. Sirus watching Fang furiously and precisely brush his precious teeth.

30. If any sort of mention of “parent” is brought up, I feel like Sirus would deck somebody on the spot if Fang’s around.

31. Although I do, Fang doesn’t make jokes about his dead parents. Please don’t. His feelings will be very hurt.

32. Fang makes weird fox noises at Sirus, probably.

33. Since Sirus is short, he can probably sit on Fang’s shoulders and purr,,

34. Sirus likes to go get his hair cut and every time Fang freaks out over it and insists taking a few pictures to keep for himself.

35. Neither of them would ever ask for the other’s passwords to anything. Privacy means everything to them.

36. Sirus cheering on Fang deepthroating whole eggs.

37. “E.” “Agreed.”

38. Don’t touch either of them. They don’t like being touched. Funny because nobody wants to be around them anyways.

39. Fang LOVES cooking for Sirus. He will cook anything Sirus wants and do it out of the blue. I can imagine Sirus minding his business playing Xbox with his friends and suddenly Fang walks in with a plate. It has a sandwich on it. He cut the crust off and cut it into triangles. On the side, some cinnamon applesauce. As he sets the food and a can of soda for him down he says,

“Here, sweetie. I made you something to gnaw on. If you need absolutely anything else, let me know, okay?” And he goes and kisses Sirus on the forehead and Sirus is all blushy and everything. Sirus tells him he loves him and briefly explains to his friends his boyfriend’s odd, caring nature.

40. In case I haven’t mentioned before, Fang is super motherly toward his boyfriend and just in general. He cleans and cooks idly like some sort of NPC.

41. Fang, Sirus, Styrix, Boris and K9 all on the floor playing DnD.

“Can I roll to fuck the dragon?”

“No.” - Probably Fang.

42. Fang using a laser pointer to play with Sirus.

43. If alcohol is mentioned you will be bashed in the head by your mom, Fang.

44. Fang casually walking up to Sirus with a broom and several other things in his other hand asking for help making a cover art for a song.

45. Fang humming Sirus to sleep.

46. If Fang doesn’t hear from Sirus in ten minutes tops (nice) he will probably sob in a pillow hoping he didn’t do anything wrong.

47. Spoiler alert, Fang and Sirus never fight and always come to eachother maturely if something is up. It’s usually fixed in seconds but Fang is an anxious mess and wants his precious boyfriend to be happy all the time.

48. Fang hates his birthday and the day it’s on. Sirus goes out of his way to make it enjoyable for him.

49. Styrix texting and calling Sirus at like 6 AM to the point Sirus wakes up and just questions his existence.

50. “I have this pretty bad stomach ache... I don’t know from what though.”

“Mm... Could it have something to do with the fact we cooperatively ate two large pizzas together?”

“Couldn’t be.”

51. Fang is hemophobic. Not so much if he himself bleeds, but if Sirus bleeds as much as a paper cut he will literally pass out.

52. They definitely sing in the car together.

🎶“When you say I’m the only one I must admit it!” 🎶

53. Fang sucks ass at games, but Sirus doesn’t mind at all when it comes to him. When it comes to anyone else, however...

54. Fang’s room is freezing cold so they kind of have to snuggle.

55. Homemade dinner is common from Fang. If you go over to have dinner you’re in for something special.

56. Sirus loves Fang’s food. I’d imagine Fang cooks steak one night and Sirus is hesitant until he tries it. He then concludes he only likes Fang’s steak. (Nice.)

57. Pet names galore. They love gushing over eachother like weirdos and never ever leave eachother alone. They’re so dumbly in love.

58. Fang and Sirus making out on Styrix’s couch and Styrix is just like “This is fine.”

59. Fang and Sirus have Styrix over and say something relatively dirty. Styrix is an innocent, good-looking dumbass and just furrows his eyebrows and questions what’s going on. This is hard for everybody.

60. K9 and Fang are talking. K9 briefly mentions his daughter and Sirus just “Wait, how old are you?”

61. Fang is really closeted. Yet is cool with usual PDA and won’t hesitate to stand up for his homosexuality.

62. Soda.

63. Sirus, a 5’3 petite Canadian Lynx absolutely tops and dominates his 6’1 fox boyfriend.

64. Both of them are covered in questionable marks and scars. They both try to hide it.

65. “You’re adorable!” “No! You are!” And then they make out to make a point.

66. Them eating ice-cream together,,,

67. Their relationship is 40% wholesomeness and 50% other kinky dirty shit.

68. Fang’s closet is just full of questionable things he’d rather only Sirus see.

69. They definitely do this.

70. Making out but, like, all the time.

71. Sirus getting a body pillow that smells like Fang in order to cope with his separation anxiety. Chances are he fucks the pillow- So- That must be interesting.

72. Fang comes home and the first thing Sirus does is ask to be fucked. He sighs.

73. You mention something remotely dirty and Sirus gets a boner somehow.

74. Styrix sitting on their couch and doing something on his phone. He just looks up at Sirus and asks, “What’s a ‘handjob’ and why are they so expensive?” And Fang and Sirus just. Die.

75. Styrix just walks in on Sirus getting beat off from Fang and he doesn’t get why they screamed.

76. K9 getting “kicked out” of his house (he lives with his siblings). Fang and Sirus are snuggling in bed late at night and K9 just. Knocks on Fang’s window and scares the hell out of him. And he just begs to stay the night. He sleeps on the couch in the living room but fails to sleep due to questionable noises. He then begs Fang for breakfast because he likes his food. I for some reason feel like he’d bother the fuck out of Sirus because he’s like that and Sirus just chills in Fang’s room, probably snuggling his body pillow and being horny and just trying to ignore the fact someone is using his Xbox. I mean, not that he cares... or does he?

77. Sirus expressing his dislike toward Amy to Fang while Fang tiredly makes himself coffee. Sirus is ranting while eating his spaghetti and Fang chimes in to wipe the bit of marinara sauce on his chin.

78. Fang and Sirus casually listening to music and suddenly Monochrome Romance plays and Fang just “WAIT” and Sirus just morphs into a tomato.

79. “My aunt wants to come over.”

“Does she know you’re gay?”

“Good question.”

“Should we be worried?”

“Maybe if we take her out to dinner she’ll be too focused on the food to care if I’m being pegged.”

80. Sirus’s gallery is just full of pictures he took of Fang without him knowing.

81. I feel, for some reason, Fang and Sirus have each other’s nudes on their phones so they hesitate giving their phones to other people.

82. Styrix calling Sirus and Fang picks up.

“He can’t talk right now-“ All while he’s breathing uneasily.

“What? Why not? Are you okay? Your voice is all shaky.”

Then he just hears the phone drop and Fang “Sirus!” In the background followed by other concerning sounds. Two minutes later Sirus picks up his phone.

“Can we talk later?”

“Why?? I need to talk now-“

Then he just hangs up and Styrix proceeds to annoy him in every way possible,,

83. What even IS Styrix’s size?

84. (Again with the K9 staying over concept) Sirus walks into the dark kitchen to see Fang making something and he’s all like

“Baby, you left bed. What are you doing?”

“I’m making hot chocolate with rainbow marshmallows for K9.”

Sirus squints.

“Isn’t he our age...?”

Fang just looks over at him with bags under his eyes.

“Yes.”

85. K9 is riding in Fang’s car and Sirus is in the passenger seat. K9 leans in toward Fang through the back seat and he just whines, “Faaang, can we pleaaaase get McDonald’s? I’m hungry...”

Fang thinks about it and flicks his eyes over to his boyfriend. He knows Sirus likes fries. He also likes fries.

“Well, that means I don’t have to cook; but you’re paying.”

“That’s fine! Just don’t get something super expensive!”

It was easy to tell K9 was super excited. As they waited in the drive-thru Fang’s fingers curl within Sirus’s. He somewhat shyly looks up at him.

“What do you want?”

K9 at this point knew Fang only pulled into McDonald’s to feed Sirus but who cares when you have McNuggets.

86. “You underestimate my love for steak.” “Fang, I literally didn’t say anything.” “My original statement still stands.”

87. Fang and Sirus run into K9 in public with his daughter. Fang goes up to K9′s daughter and introduces his boyfriend to her.

“Hey, Maple! How are you doing?”

“Oh, you know.” She fumbles around and crosses her arms. “School... Yourself?” She eyes Sirus next to him.

“I’m fine! Have you met my boyfriend? I don’t think you have. This is Sirus. Sirus, this is K9′s daughter. Her name is Mapleleaf.”

He gives Sirus a hearty smooch on the cheek, Maple giving off a funny smile.

“I had no idea you were gay, uncle Fang.”

“Well, neither did I half of high school.”

88. K9 is on an important Zoom call but Fang and Sirus just begin violently fucking behind him and he just picks up his camera and says “Right, I’m moving out of this room.”

89. K9 playing on the Xbox Fang keeps in the living room while Fang sweeps in front of him.

“Could you get out the way? I’m trying to play Skyrim. This is like, the eighth time you cleaned today.”

Fang stares at him with tired, angry eyes.

“Does it matter? You can’t play Skyrim worth shit.”

“... Is that a no, then?”

“I swear there’s this one speck of dust I just can’t get.”

90. Fang and Sirus are lying awake in bed. Sirus is recording the whole ordeal on his phone and it’s easy to see Fang is very annoyed at the fact his friend K9 invited his brother and a friend over- very late at night.

You can clearly hear them talking and laughing loudly and Sirus can’t help but snicker at Fang’s temper very slowly leaving him. Fang finally gets up and starts putting some clothes on.

Sirus turns his head over to the doorway and watches Fang leave. This is the conversation he hears them yelling.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Sirus hears in a deep, stern tone that could have the potential to turn him on probably.

There’s a silence until K9 speaks up.

“Oh, I just invited Boris and Amy over...-“

“Do you have any idea of what time it is?”

There’s another silence.

“It is three. In the FUCKING. MORNING. I wake up at five every fucking morning for work. Did I mention it’s Monday? Do you know how long it takes for my fur to dry? An hour. I work hard every fucking week. I work overtime whenever I can to squeeze in every little penny possible. I cook for you, offered you a place to stay because you have the weirdest FUCKING relationship with your siblings, I give you money that- oh yeah, YOU NEED TO PAY BACK. You owe me about one thousand... ten? Dollars now and I expect it. All of it, every penny of it. I do all this for you and you don’t even let me sleep so I can work tomorrow? This ISN’T your house. This is me and my boyfriend’s house. OUR house. You’re just staying in it. I’d personally appreciate if you could let me fucking sleep so I can wake back up, shower, wait an hour just to dry my fucking fur, put on my suit, make breakfast, and whatever the fuck so I can afford a ring and support Sirus and I’s dreams. The LEAST you could do. Is ASK to invite someone over. The LEAST.”

Sirus has his eyes wide in bed and he’s staring at the doorway. He could hear the living room be dead silent for a hot minute, then an unfamiliar female voice shyly rose.

“Do... do you want me to leave?”

“Whatever. Whatever. Make youself at home, Amy, Boris. At three in the morning. Uninvited. Without me or Sirus’s permission.”

Fang walks back into the bedroom, closing the door. He begins to button his shirt back off and his eyebrows immediately soften.

“Are you okay darling...?”

Sirus snorted and laughed into his pillow.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“You- you just... grew soft so fast... I’ve never heard you be so mad...”

“Mm...” Fang slid back into bed next to Sirus, Sirus quickly returns to his place on Fang’s chest. As soon as Sirus considered stopping the recording, K9 walks into their room. Ah, this is gonna be good...

K9 clears his throat.

“Look, sorry for not asking either of you for permisson, but please... come on Fang, even you usually have some decency when it comes to this stuff-“

“This isn’t your house.”

“I’m not finished!”

“I wouldn’t care if it kept me from getting sleep!”

“Oh! So you care about getting sleep, huh?? Well it sure is hard to tell when I lay on your couch every night to... to hear you and Sirus just FUCKING!! Fucking every fucking night! How do you expect ME to sleep when all I can hear is ‘Aahh! Sirus! Deeper, please!’?! If anything, this is payback!”

Fang quietly lipped at Sirus, “Are... are we that loud?”

“I tend not to pay attention.” Sirus said and shrugged, laughing internally at the two’s arguing.

“Oh, so you do it on purpose? Wow! But you come in and scream at me like you’re my mom that you can’t sleep-“

“I work tomorrow. Get the fuck out our room.”

K9 turns and stubbornly slams their door. Fang completely slides himself free of all his clothes and holds Sirus real close.

Sirus began to purr... “A ring...? You’re saving up to marry me?”

Fang put a finger to the lynx’s lips. “Rest love... rest...”

91. Fang eats ice-cream religiously and his freezer is full of nothing else.

92. Fang wearing a variety of gay looking outfits.

93. Wouldn’t it be cute if Fang owned Monstercat merch?

94. It’s canon Fang’s laptop is covered in Monstercat artist stickers.

95. Sirus is blogging through his phone and walking throughout the house just talking. He walks across the living room to a coat closet next to the front door.

“Uhh, yeah. This is our coat closet, and-“ He opens the door to reveal it’s Fang’s storage for his weird, expensive emo boots, chains, belts and whatever else. He steps inside just to circle around.

“I don’t know what the hell he’s doing... I don’t think I’m interested in knowing how much money went into this but some of these I’ve just never seen him wear... look, we have coats, but they’re...” He pushes other clothes like jackets a little farther up the clothes rack to show that the coats here are old and clearly have been forgotten about. “We only have like, two coats in our coat closet. The rest is just shoes and stuff.”

He stops touching things and starts moving out the door.

“So... anyways, he wants to fix this door, because, for some reason? The doorknob is really weird,”

He closes the door to the closet and shows off the doorknob that looks perfectly fine.

“I told him it’s been bothering me because this doorknob looks different from every other doorknob in this house... I don’t know what we’re gonna do about it because neither of us are very ‘handy’...” He turns the camera toward him while he’s running his fingers through his hair. “I think that’s a gay thing. I don’t know. I haven’t met a single homosexual who can fix stuff...”

96. Fang screaming, “Sirus! Sirus! Sirus! Sirus!!!! Look at me!! Look!!” And Sirus tiredly looks up at him to see him holding a roll of toilet paper. He puts it on top of his head.

“I’m Marshmello.”

97. A picture of Fang holding Sirus by the scruff captioned “Capped me one of those Canadian Lynx bfs”

98. Sirus gets the slightest upset with Fang and Fang is on his knees trying to make it up to his tiny boyfriend.

99. Sirus is showing Fang a song in process. Fang hums.

“Ooh, oh wow! That sounds amazing! And when you add the vocals it’ll be even more amazing! Just one thing though... that reverb is way too wet on the master. Why do you even have reverb on the master?”

Sirus looks really confused, and he furrows his eyebrows at Fang.

“... You... can have too much reverb?”

“Way too much. Turn that reverb down and maybe even consider taking it off the master.”

“I need... it on the master...”

“No, you don’t. It sounds way too wet throughout the entire song. That’s not what you want.”

“I like wet.”

Fang sighs.

100. Why is the thought of Sirus having a potentially thick Canadian accent so hot?

101. I’m pretty sure Styrix doesn’t even know his own sexuality. He’s too busy looking in a mirror to care about that.

102. If Sirus did have a Canadian accent, Fang would beg him to just keep talking.

103. (Again with the accent) Sirus is talking on the phone to Styrix. Fang is next to him, doing work on his laptop.

Sirus looks over at Fang.

“Fang, Styrix is wondering if he can come over to our house?”

Fang pauses for a minute. He slowly smiles and looks at Sirus with loving eyes. He begins to to repeat him.

“‘House’ huh?” Fang said, mimicking Sirus’s accent.

“Oh my god, not this again. House.”

“‘House’.~”

“... House!”

“‘House’.”

“Can he come over or not?!”

“Sure thing, cutie.”

Now Sirus is angy.

104. Neither of them have self-control. I know for a fact Fang won’t hesitate to suddenly and randomly hug Sirus just so he could start feeling around his body. Best thing? Sirus won’t be able to do anything about it. Fang’s got a tight grip on him and now he can play with Sirus’s body as much as he wants.

... Same with Sirus. Sirus may be small but he can still make dirty remarks and fondle with Fang’s crotch- sitting on it, taking off his shirt, any of that.

To be fair just Sirus talking turns Fang on, so. Nice.

105. Fang is snuggling Sirus in bed. He starts to feel him a little bit, Sirus whining.

“Is that poke I feel you?” Fang chuckles, sliding his hand down Sirus’s pants.

“Shame.~”

106. Sirus fake moans just for shits and giggles. In response, Fang pins him down and dares him to do it again.

107. Fang threatens to beat Sirus up for jokes. He takes off his belt and immediately Sirus starts blushing when he’s trying to escape getting hit.

108. Sirus wakes up early to feel a tender, warm rubbing at his crotch along with something a little heavy resting on his leg.

“Sleep well, little lynx?” Fang whispers in a bass-y tone, kissing his cheek. Sirus mumbles.

“What time is it?... What are you doing?...”

“Just thought I’d help you wake up a little bit, kitty.”

“... Why are you so horny...” Sirus squeaks, moving around a little bit.

“Mmh... woke up this way... like the way that feels, sugarplum?~”

Sirus sighed longingly. “Ghh... yeah...”

109. Fang is groping at Sirus’s ass softly on the couch, holding him tight.

“Hey kitty... you’re all mine, aren’t you?”

“Mhm...” Sirus groans, his face snuggled into the fox’s chest.

“All mine... nobody else’s... my lynx... right?~”

“Yes, darlin’... I am... ghh...”

He spanks Sirus softly and listens to him hiss in pain. He rubs the spot gently. Sirus moans.

“I-I am all yours, daddy! I am!”

110. Sirus looking rabid with a chicken leg in his mouth.

111. “Imagine having dead parents, couldn’t be me.” Fang says as Sirus stares at him and watches his eyes tear up.

112. Sirus is being pouty.

“I’m not cute!”

Fang pushes him right up against the wall and smooshes their lips together, making out with him passionately. He pulls back to Sirus blushing and says,

“Yes you are.”

113. Fang is snuggling with Sirus.

“Are you purring?” Fang leans into the lynx, listening to his body and feeling the vibrations.

“... Y... Yes...?”

Fang melts and covers him in kisses. He absolutely LOVES it when his baby purrs.

114. Fang is wearing a blue polo with small, colorful geometric shapes on it. You know, casual clothing.

Sirus squints at him.

“What is your obsession with looking like a bus seat?”

115. Fang fucking Sirus so raw that Sirus can’t move for like, a week.

[austrohungarianwriteblr]

Follower Celebration/WIP Excerpt: The Night We Met

60 followers? On my simple country blog? Amazing! Here, enjoy a snippet from the part of the tale where Our Heroes meet and it’s awkward for everyone. (which can alternately be summarized as “Marta, quit being horny on main, you’re scaring the hoes”). 

WIP Tag List (As usual, please give me a shout if you’d like to be added) :  @carumens, @galsinspace, @writingonesdreams, @booksnotbookies, @ren-c-leyn, @kiesinger, @ella-writes-words, @fields-of-ink, @halleiswriting

(Side note: If you follow my main blog you may have seen a version of this before. Please forgive me for airing a rerun).

At least partially to avoid Ludwig’s unsettlingly earnest gaze, Marta glanced over his shoulder at the small orchestra, whose members seemed thoroughly professional and focused despite not being in the Court Opera. The violinist closest to her was certainly entirely absorbed by the music; Marta’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, absentmindedly admiring his slightly-too-long dark red hair and long, elegant fingers. She didn’t know much about the Odysseum Opera Company, but they certainly seemed to be turning out nice-looking musicians… Then the violinist lifted his head, just slightly, and glanced in her direction. Good heavens. Now that was unfair. If Marta ever met God, she decided, she would have to have a very stern talk with Him about allowing mortal men to have eyes like that. Eyes that particular shade of blue-green, and of that intensity to the point where they seemed to be lit from within, belonged on pagan gods from the old Celtic folktales Marta’s English governess had told her—the sort who did interesting things like turning into foxes and kidnapping mortal girls to be their wives. Eyes like that had absolutely no business belonging to violin players in birthday-party orchestras. Was he looking at her? He had to be looking at her, or Marta thought she might scream, or do something equally ridiculous to get his attention. She eagerly leaned forward, hoping to catch his eye, her heart pounding in anticipation. “Marta? Are you all right?” Marta came back to herself with a start, suddenly aware that Ludwig was looking at her with concern in his pale blue eyes. With a twinge of embarrassment, she realized that while she had been staring at the violinist she had completely stopped moving her feet, leaving Ludwig to shift her about awkwardly. “Are you all right?” Ludwig asked again. “You’re looking a bit…feverish. Are you feeling ill?” “No, I’m really…” Marta put a hand to her cheek and realized, with surprise, that her face was quite warm. Probably bright red, too. How funny. “Do you know what, Ludwig, I think I am feeling a bit poorly. I must be tired from all the dancing. Would you excuse me for a moment? I believe I’ll sit down and have a glass of punch.” “Well, if you’re sure,” Ludwig said with a frown. “Would you like me to come with you?” “Oh, no, that’s quite all right. The dance is nearly over anyway, and I’m sure Sophie would be delighted to dance the next one with you. Don’t let me keep you.” Before Ludwig could object, Marta ducked out of his grasp and hurried to one of the benches set along the walls, dropping into a seat from which she could watch the handsome violinist to her heart’s content.

----

It was an agonizing twenty minutes before supper was announced and the orchestra was finally permitted to take a break. As groups of guests found partners to escort them to the dining room Marta hopped up from her seat, determined to find her violinist before the musicians disappeared down to the kitchens or wherever the help went during these breaks. She wasn’t entirely sure what she would say to him (a wordless scream of admiration, while representative of her feelings, was likely to be startling), but she could learn his name, at least. And congratulate him on how lovely the music had been. And stare at him some more. Thank God, it took her less than two minutes to find him. He was in the corner where the orchestra had been set up, engaged in an intense conversation with the Baron von Braumark, and was nodding valiantly as the Baron gestured wildly. Marta paused for a moment, inspecting his clothes with a connoisseur’s eye: his black suit was elegant, if threadbare, and she could not help but notice that his trousers were perhaps an inch too short for his long legs. Strangely enough, the air of shabbiness around him only made him more attractive, in a tragic way. “Ah, the lady of the hour!” Baron Ulrich boomed, seeing Marta approach them. “Mr. Király, I don’t believe you have made the acquaintance of Countess Marta von Holstadt, the very reason we are gathered here tonight. Countess, my dear, allow me to introduce Andras Király, one of the orchestra’s finest new violinists, fresh out of the Academy.” Andras turned those glowing turquoise eyes towards Marta, regarding her so intently it made her breath catch in her throat. Of course he was even more beautiful close up, Marta thought, her heart pounding. His cheekbones had to be sharp enough to cut glass, and his eyelashes were the longest Marta had ever seen on a man. Even his nose—which was on the long side, and had a bump in the middle—was utterly charming. And what a name he had. Andras Király. It sounded thoroughly heroic. He had to be Hungarian, with a name like that. “Countess,” Andras said politely, dipping into a graceful bow. He had a lovely voice, low and seductive, with a hint of a husky accent; Hungarian, just as she’d thought. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Marta managed just the slightest of curtsies—if she bent any deeper, she thought, her slightly shaking knees were certain to give out. “Likewise, Mr. Király. And you must let me congratulate you…the music tonight has been absolutely lovely.” Andras looked down at her—quite significantly down, he had to be at least eight inches taller than her—and offered her a small but sincere smile. “That’s very kind of you to say, Countess. I won’t say I entirely agree with you, but then it’s not easy to be satisfied with one’s own performance, as I am sure you’ll know if you have ever played music yourself.” “Oh, yes, you’re quite right. I spent ten years taking piano lessons and I was always terrified of being asked to play at a party because if I made even the smallest mistake I’d be furious at myself all night. I remember once at Christmas when I was eleven I forgot what came next halfway through Silent Night and I wound up just playing the same line five times in a row…” Realizing she was starting to babble, Marta quickly bit off the end of her sentence. “I beg your pardon. What I mean to say is, you and the rest of the orchestra have been excellent, and we’re awfully grateful you’re here. The orchestra is lucky to have you, I think.” “On the contrary, I think I am the lucky one. It’s quite an honor to be able to work here in Vienna…” Andras’ jaw tightened as though he was suppressing a yawn, and for the first time Marta noticed the pale violet circles under his eyes, as though it had been a few days since he’d gotten a good night’s sleep. “…Though,” he added, looking away absentmindedly, “my father might disagree with me about that…” “Would he?” Marta leaned forward eagerly, sensing a hint of intrigue. “Why is that?” Andras blinked, as if only just remembering she and Baron Ulrich were there. “Nothing important,” he said quickly. “Forgive me for keeping you, Countess, Baron, I expect they’ll need you to lead everyone in to supper. Allow me to wish you a very happy birthday, Countess.” He bowed again, this time kissing the back of her hand—merely brushing his lips against her gloved fingers, but even that was enough to make Marta feel her skin had burst into flame. With this he departed, leaving Marta to admire the lean, graceful lines of his body as he walked away. “A very pleasant young man, that,” Baron Ulrich remarked. “Far too many of these artistic types, especially the Hungarians, have no sense of how to speak to their betters.” “Mmm,” said Marta vaguely. “He works for the Odysseum Opera Company, didn’t you say, Baron?” “Quite so. Not a bad little troupe, even if their theatre is a bit run-down. I believe their next production will be Don Giovanni; your family will have to accompany us to one of the performances.” “Oh, yes,” Marta agreed ardently. “I can’t think of anything I would like more.”

[edorazzi]

Well, here we are again! Twitter said yes to a review post for a Miraculous magazine that suddenly showed up in my local area. ‘Tis the season after all, and by that I mean someone bought it for me as a joke birthday gift and I was way too happy about that.

I’ve done previous reviews of the Miraculous Christmas calendar, Easter egg set, superhero fashion dolls and action figures, so let’s dive into the unknown world of merchandising yet again!

(As always, if you enjoy my posts, please consider checking out my Twitter page or supporting me on Patreon for lots of bonus content!)

4 FREE GIFTS! PACKED WITH ACTIVITIES! MEET THE KWAMIS! PRANKS & LOLS! CUT-OUT MEMES! FANGIRL ALERT! NAIL ART! 100% OFFICIAL! I’m overwhelmed! It feels like I’m having a seizure just from the packaging!!! 

I should preface this by saying I haven’t bought a magazine like this in years. Possibly ever. I read things like the Beano, Animals & You and the odd Disney Princess zine when I was a kid but I have no idea what to expect from a free-gift-packed kiddie magazine in 2019. If the outside is anything to go by we’re in for a wild ride.

I’m noticing that it says “Miraculous #20″ on the back. Does this mean I’ve missed 19 previous issues? I’m genuinely a little upset by that. My local area is a complete dry zone for Miraculous so I haven’t had the chance to pick these up.

First step: let’s separate everything out and get a look at these freeeee giftssss. Except they aren’t free, because this magazine was like £3.99. This does seem to be the current trend - it’s kinda rare to see any kids’ zines without the excess packaging crammed with ‘free’ stuff. Is it really too expensive to just produce the magazine? Probably, in this economy.

Chat Noir is revealed on the cover! He was on the back of the plastic jacket, but it’s still nice to see the kids as a front-cover duo. Apparently we’re going to learn to draw Pollen, too, which sounds fun. I’m actually liking the look of the gifts as well, but we’ll get into those in a minute.

This hairbrush............. is adorable. Oh my god. It’s pretty cheap and flimsy but it functions the way it’s supposed to, and the Ladybug design has been taken into account in a better way than “it’s red/black, that counts” (lest we forget the UTTER BULLSHIT of the Christmas calendar, and YES I’m still mad about that). I don’t know how well I expect the outer sticker to last, but if it can take a bit of wear and tear this would be an adorable little travel brush. Nicely done, lads!

These nail stickers? Also adorable. They remind me of the kiddie makeup sets I had when I was little, back in the early 00s when plastic stick-on nails and decals were all the rage. Are they still a thing? That’s nice to know.

There are 13 designs (that I can count) - a Queen Bee mask, Chat Noir pawprint cake, macaron, cupcake, heart-print cookie, Ladybug stud, flower, lightning bolt, love heart, Marinette heart, bee, fox tail and star. The majority are directly related to the show and that makes them feel special. No Carapace though? :(

I’ve put a little Marinette heart on my furthest finger. At the time of typing this up (about a day later) it’s still firmly in place. I haven’t really knocked it around, granted, but it’s not flimsy enough to fall off after five minutes either. It’s also really cute to look at. Guess I’m still a decal-loving 2004 girl at heart......

These stickers though!!! Wow! They’re those holographic and slightly-puffy kind and they feel like pretty good quality, and the designs are so cute! I can’t fault these, they’re absolutely adorable. I immediately want to stick them everywhere.

So I’ve stuck them everywhere. I’m especially proud of the light switch pun. My room looks GREAT.

I saved these “mystery stickers” for last because I’m weak for the thrill of mystery bags, and there wasn’t anything on the packaging to indicate what kind of designs to expect. And OH!!!! OH, IT’S MY BOY!!!! Look at him!!!! 

I made jokes with the Christmas calendar about all the Chat Noir items being stolen ahead of time, but that’s definitely NOT the case with this magazine. I have been SPOILED with the presence of my cat son.

These stickers are similar to the sticker sheet (and the Chillin’ Out design is reprinted), but they’re puffier and non-holographic. I’m deeply allured by the “decorate your phone or tablet” suggestion on the packet, but I’m going to see how the previous stickers withstand the wear-and-tear of my laptop lid before adding any more. If I damage these beautiful Adrien stickers I’ll be devastated.

Those are our free gifts! They’re actually very fun and cute, I’m really happy with them! I guess now it’s time to get into the magazine itself...........

I genuinely almost forgot the magazine was the main part of this package. I figured I was done, but we’ve barely even started! Here’s a splash page of the kwami. Kwami with a capital K? Kwamis? I still feel like it should be singular-lower-case-k-kwami. I’ve never been happy about this “miraculouses” business either.

But is that--

It IS!!!! It’s Nino!!! 

I guess this is the new flavour of Miraculous tie-ins. Now they’ve broadened out to a full team we’re seeing a lot more of Adrien alongside the girls, and Nino is the elusive hero who shows up once in a blue moon. At least this time his name isn’t in the title of the gotdam show.......

Anyway, I can see I’m supposed to draw my “fave Kwami”. Better get to it.

Felix just wants a break. Just one break. But not in this magazine.

Speaking of seeing more of Adrien (and, tragically, less of Nino), this is the kind of splash page I want to see! Both kids are here! The banner themed with Marinette’s signature flowers is a nice touch too; that’s associated with her arts ‘n’ crafts in the show already and it makes sense to apply it to the creative portion of this magazine too.

I LOVE the promotion of Chat Noir nails as something the little girls buying this magazine will definitely want to try. I’d expect them to do Marinette vs Ladybug nails, but instead we get a boyish option! Hell yeah!

I’m a little confused by the Queen Bee masks apparently going on the Chat Noir nails though. I guess they’re friends? Is this secret AdriChlo confirmation? Watch out, Marinette, Kagami’s not the one to be worried about.

SURE WOULD BE NICE TO HAVE SOME TURTLE STICKERS FOR AN ALL-BOYS THEME BUT I GUESS NOT HUH

Next up is a short merch catalogue (why would you put the big bold arrow pointing right to the underoos.....). Would those Chat Noir socks come in my size? Asking for me.

Then there’s......... this page. FANGIRL ALERT. God. It’s like the Ladyblog, if only the Ladyblog ever gave a heck about reporting what Chat Noir’s up to.

THE SPELL WAS BROKEN AND THE FANDOM IMPLODED WITH JOY.

I really have to wonder what age range this is meant for. Do kids know what a “fandom” is? Do little girls consider themselves “fangirls”? I guess most kids have enough internet access to figure it out these days (all the hashtags and LOLs and memes speak volumes), but I can’t imagine being young enough to fit the target range of this magazine while also knowing these terms. I dunno.

(Also, the definition of ‘implosion’ is ‘an instance of something collapsing violently inwards’, so I’m not sure that’s the word they’re looking for. Unless the return to the status quo in Dark Cupid and the continuing stagnation of the love square was enough to make people quit in frustration? Probably.)

I’m filling it in, of course. Because I must.

I gave up on the pre-approved ratings system pretty much right away, but I think this is an accurate rating of my LadyNoir opinions. 

I might be kinda cynical about it here, but I am actually pretty fond of how this magazine sells Ladybug and Chat Noir as a couple. The show’s portraying it as very onesided lately, with Chat pining over Ladybug who has absolutely no interest in him (Glaciator was a TERRIBLE episode and I’m still hurting from it), but reading this zine I’d guess they were already dating. It’s cheesy, but in a nice way.

I have to laugh at “the most amazing thing about this super duo is that they always look out for and protect each other” though. Chat’s usually pretty focused on LB, sure, but there are endless instances of LB using Chat as cannon fodder and just generally abandoning him to get mauled by akuma while she carries out her personal private plan to save the day. Maybe we’re just focusing on the better-written episodes, huh?

Moving ahead. I’ve been dreading this page since reading “Plaggs Pranks & LOLs” on the back of the packaging. I feel hatred in my very bones just looking at it.

I like that there’s ONE instance of the term “ladybird” in the joke column. This is a UK-based magazine and that IS the word we tend to use over here - “ladybug” is an Americanism - but it’s like they’re worried kids could have got to the middle of this magazine about a superhero named Ladybug and then not understand the bug jokes. Maybe whoever was writing this page slipped up?

OH NOOOOO. MARINETTE, NOOOOOOOOOO.

THIS IS WHY FELIX GOT RID OF YOU, PLAGG. THESE ARE ADRIEN’S PROBLEMS NOW.

(mmm whatcha saaaaay)

I mean........... YEAH, I guess, but we absolutely did see Plagg destroy Felix with an entire shelf of heavy books. I guess he’s nicer with Adrien. It’s all fun and games until someone has a nervous breakdown in the library.

I do love the concept of Tikki getting glitter-bombed by Plagg through the mail. She just curiously opens up the little letter which got slipped into Marinette’s purse, and-- WOOSH. One entire wall of Mari’s room is glittery except for a little Tikki-shaped silhouette. 

Next up is a two-page comic which is absolutely adorable! Look at those little chibis! The warm and soft colour palette! This is nicer than most of the official Miraculous comic book art I’ve seen, I hope they keep giving this artist work.

Nino’s here too (and he looks great!), and I like the touch of Marinette and Adrien playing as each other’s superhero characters. Adrien even wins the match, though I guess there’s something to be said about Ladybug beating Chat Noir (again)...... 

It does raise the question yet again of where this tie-in merchandise is coming from! They’ve had action figures, a movie, music video features, now an arcade game... Who’s getting the royalties here? Who’s profiting? Is this how Fu can afford to buy all those rare ingredients for the magic potions?

Over the page we have an activity to Design your Secret Lair! Right away I love the Marinette theme of the page, the soft pink and flowers, and the drawing space looking like a page in a binder with marker tabs and everything.

I have to design my secret lair, of course: 

What do you think? I’m very creative. I’ll need an adult to send in the drawing of my hideout but I think I’ve really got a shot at those unicorn headphones.

Now we’re on to puzzles and character pages. I don’t know what ol’ Gabe is doing trying to meet a 13 year old girl in the dead of night without telling anyone, you’d think if he’s got that much free time on his hands he could be spending it with his son.

I don’t know how those points in Ladybug’s power profile are awarded or what they mean, but you can tell this is a fan magazine. Official sources would have put her at a 10.

Standard House of Villains page! Most of these were good episodes but I’m deeply offended Riposte isn’t on here. Maybe her motives weren’t dramatic and cartoonish enough to be up in the ranks with Glaciator and Gorizilla?

“Cat Noir’s dad is also the evil Hawk Moth”, huh? I mean that’s not WRONG, but is it really something to put in his power profile when Adrien doesn’t even know yet??? Feels like we’re kinda jumping the gun on the poor boy. What if he picks up this magazine?

Apparently he’s one point weaker than Ladybug (seriously???), two points faster, equally as agile, one point less skilled and two points less cool. Despite all those lesses he still comes out at an equal 9, which is a relief! These kids are a team, putting either of them below the other would have been a big no.

I did the colouring page too, naturally. Je suis un artiste.

Now we’ve got a page fresh from the Ladyblog, a Miraculous quiz! Not a lot of excitement, but it’s nice to see Alya getting her own section.

I like that the qualifications of “you could be Ladybug herself!” are knowing what city Marinette lives in and what school she goes to. Well done, Mari! You’re doing your best!!!

TEACHER I AM SO HUNGRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

I gotta say, I’m not so sure about decorating donuts with fondant. I’ve never tried it so I could be wrong, but it feels like rolled icing instead of frosting(?) would be too heavy for an entire donut. The texture is totally different.

I mean I guess if you’re going to load your kids up on sugar you might as well go all the way. They’re going to look like they’ve eaten something horrible with all that black fondant, but they’ll have fun. Adrien would love these.

WHERE’S NINO. THIS IS JUST UNFAIR. You’ll have four out of five heroes, then a double of Marinette and Tikki? Maybe this just goes to show how little memorable dialogue Carapace has.

Though if “Spots On!” is Marinette’s dialogue and not Ladybug’s, why are the other transformation phrases attributed to Rena Rouge and Queen Bee instead of Alya and Chloé? Surely they could have picked something better for Marinette to justify having her on this list twice instead of Nino.

The next page brings us one of those flowchart quizzes! And ouch, yet again the absence of the other heroes is obvious. I can understand not including Chloé here since she’s technically not a “friendly” character yet, but no Nino? Alya and Marinette are close friends, but Adrien doesn’t really hang out with them without Nino around. Having the three of them together just seems strange.

I do like the little fashion page! They’re all cute and affordable and easy to find on the high street here. I’d love to see how other issues of this magazine are structured; is there a different fashion spot every time? Styles to channel each individual hero would be adorable.

Moving on to a tutorial for a Ladybug notebook! I would have made this, but I didn’t have the time nor a notebook to stick it to.

Between this and the donuts, it seems weird that these designs are based on, like... an actual beetle, eyes and antennae and all. Shouldn’t it be Ladybug’s symbol? These come across more like “fun animals” arts ‘n’ crafts instead of themed after Miraculous specifically. I think if I made this (or decorated the donuts) I’d miss out the head and match the spot pattern to Ladybug’s symbol. 

The hidden message design is adorable though. I can see this being a craft kids are super proud of.

Another activity page! I didn’t have a go at these but they’re pretty standard. It’s cute that the coded message designs are the same as the stickers and nail decals!

Also, apparently Ladybug’s ‘secret’ is “LB mask + heart + CN mask”, which was (somehow) stolen by Volpina. Is that the secret Hawk Moth was talking about earlier in the magazine? Is he blackmailing Ladybug with revealing she has a crush on Chat Noir? How did Volpina ‘steal’ this secret? Is LadyNoir finally reciprocated???? THIS IS A WHOLE EPISODE IN ITSELF, I NEED ANSWERS--

Next page we have an ad for another girly magazine (Quizzes! LOLs! Celebs! Cringes! Puzzles!). I think I’ll pass, no matter how appealing that giant microphone pen is. 

And a “Miraculous Identity” quiz! Tikki’s apparently super fickle with her wielders, three seasons of relentlessly praising Marinette and now she’s telling us we’re the Chosen Ones. You can’t fool me with those big ol’ eyes.

My inner superhero is Marvellous Fox, by the way. Though yet again I’m noticing we don’t have turtle options...................

And on the back cover... the memes. Oh, sweet lord, the memes. They’re hashtag-SoRelatable! And I can cut them out to keep! Oh boy!!!

Is this what kids do when they have limited internet access? Cut fresh memes out of magazines and carry them around? I need to know.

That’s a very sinister Ladybug at the bottom of the page though. What’s-- What’s she going to do to me if I don’t cut out and keep these memes. Ladybug what are you going to do if I d--

Well that brings us to the end of the magazine! And yet again I’m surprised by how much time it takes to just put a bunch of photos together and write about them.

This is a neat little magazine all in all! The ‘free gifts’ are pretty nice, there’s a fair amount of content and the whole thing is pretty cute for young fans of the show. I could see myself buying this again - if it ever shows up on shelves, Miraculous is so scarce around here that I fully expect it to disappear again after this one issue - just for the free junk, but it would be interesting to see how they’d structure different issues too!

I notice we never did get that promised tutorial on how to draw Pollen; the one advertised on the cover. Was the “draw your favourite Kwami” activity supposed to cover that? I’m not sure that really counts.

If you got this far, thanks for joining me on this Miraculous journey! We’ll meet again whenever I get another piece of weird ML merch to cover. Bien joué!

[storybycorey]

Happy Halfway Point, guys!  

Thanks so much to all of you who’ve been following along with this fluffy, romantic alphabet of Mulder’s!  I hope you’re all enjoying reading Mulder’s thoughts about Scully as much as I enjoyed writing them!

Since we’ve gotten to M (halfway through the alphabet), I thought I’d post the fic up til this point, for anyone who may have seen the individual letter posts floating around and been intrigued. Here is A-M all in one place, for easy reading!

The Fox Mulder Phonetic Alphabet

author: @storybycorey

rating: PG-13

wordcount (so far): 2163

A is for Apple

She brings her lunch from home most days. Well-balanced, just as he’d expect— portions of protein, fruit, and grains—while he grazes a bit less elegantly on a plethora of offerings from the upstairs vending machine.  

She packs an apple once, eats it right in front of him.  Red and juicy, but not nearly as red and juicy as her lips, or at least the way he’s imagined her lips to be after nearly seven years of imagining such things.  He wonders whether, if he ever works up the nerve to kiss her, he’ll taste her on his mouth afterwards, the way you taste an apple—tart and sweet and lingering there. 

He realizes he’s staring, goes quickly back to his bag of Funyuns (Onions, Scully! They’re vegetables!). Later, when she throws her apple core in the trash, he feels a sudden urge to retrieve it, as a reminder of things he wants but probably doesn’t deserve to have.

B is for Basketball

She beats him at basketball one day. Unbelievably. Finds him in the gym one evening after an endless day of seminars. She knows how to find him the way a dog finds its bone—even when he’s buried, even when he’s mangled and chewed-upon and disgusting.  On this day though, he’s none of those things; instead he’s just plain bored.

In her black suit and heels, she stands out like a sharp smear of ink, poignantly distinct amidst the wooden floors and the bleachers. He doesn’t expect a response to his hey Scullz, wanna go one-on-one?, but she lifts her eyebrow in challenge and slips off her blazer.  The tank top hidden beneath is tight and it’s blue (and made of a soft, shiny material his fingers ache to touch). 

He could say he lets her win, but honestly, imagining that mystery material sandwiched between his palm and her skin leaves him much too distracted to pay attention to the game.

C is for Candles

He’ll forever associate candle-light with her pale and trembling back.  With a maroon satin robe and hair that curls up sweetly in the rain (she’d never allow that now). 

Before that night, the only candles he owned were a melted-down cluster from some birthday or another, remnants of a relationship he’d rather forget. He owns an assortment now though, scented and not, but all at the ready should the opportunity arise.  His greatest want is to see the rest of her body lit by that warm, amber glow, to trail his fingertips across more than just her back, to chase the soft shadows around her curves as her breath hitches with desire.

He and the candles are prepared; they’ve been prepared for seven years now. She and her curves and her shadows? He thinks they’re getting there. He hopes anyway.

D is for Dana

Her first name is a secretive, foreign thing to him these days.  Scully is Scully—strong, competent, loyal.  But Dana is an enigma.  He catches glimpses of Dana sometimes—a woman, a girl—and he wonders whether she’s fighting to break free.  It saddens him to think he may have stolen that girlish part away from her, filed her inside a metal cabinet down in a basement office like everything else that crosses his path. 

Sometimes he whispers it and it gives him a small thrill, like there’s a hidden part of her he has yet to know.  He imagines saying it intimately, with his mouth pressed to her ear, but can’t decide whether it feels terribly wrong or perfectly, undeniably right. He only know that his lips are ready, should he ever earn the chance to try. 

E is for Earrings

He almost buys her earrings once. Foolish, really.  But while waiting for a watch battery to be replaced, he can’t help but browse.  The sapphires would match her eyes so stunningly.  Has he ever seen her in anything but small diamond studs or pearls?  Anything but a business suit or hotel room pajamas? He wonders whether she likes dressing up, whether she stands before her mirror and admires herself, deciding between this evening gown or that one, holding earrings up next to her cheek.  

He stands at the counter and looks at the earrings for ten minutes, picturing the delicate arc of her neck and the auburn of her hair and those earrings sparkling between.  He’d be lying if he doesn’t also admit to imagining his tongue tracing around them and his teeth scraping against them and the moan he’s sure would slip from her throat while he plays. 

A pushy saleswoman interrupts his thoughts, asks “For your wife?  Girlfriend?”

He shakes his head, “Neither.”

He leaves with a hard-on and a working watch, but the earrings stay behind for someone with a little more courage.

F is for Friends

They use the term friends sometimes.  Usually it’s partners, occasionally colleagues, coworkers, but really, none of those words does their relationship the slightest bit of justice.  He couldn’t define it to a stranger (should one ask) if he tried.  Hell, he can’t even define it to himself.

How do you define someone so ingrained in your bones, you taste marrow at the back of your throat each time she walks away?  Webster would be hard-pressed to condense that into a single word, he’s sure. Even best friend feels trite and inadequate where Scully’s concerned. She’s not just a friend, not just a partner, not just a lover (even in his most daring of fantasies)—she’s not just anything. 

She’s Scully, and she’s everything.  

G is for Globe

He used to play a game with Samantha.  Spin the Globe it was called.  They played it when their parents were fighting, when they wanted nothing more than to be far, far away.  He tells Scully about it once, when he can tell she can’t get out of her head.  Luckily, amidst the files and slides and mess of the office, he happens to have a globe.

“Spin it, Scully.  Close your eyes and point, and I’ll take you on an adventure wherever your finger lands.”

She rolls her eyes, but plays along, extending her French-tipped fingernail to land upon the spinning globe.  Antarctica. 

“Spin again,” he murmurs quickly, “That one didn’t count,” but she stops him with a hand curled around his like a comma.

“You found me, Mulder.  That was more extraordinary than any adventure.” 

H is for Hands

Once on a stakeout, he holds her hand. 

Hours in a darkened car breed strange and wonderful things sometimes—discussions and games that only boredom can inspire.  He tells her he can read palms (he’s lying, of course, but at least it’s something to do), and she scoffs, but then surprisingly offers her hand.  It’s really too dark to see, but he tickles her palm and bullshits his way through, blathering about wealth and fate until her giggle makes his heart stand still.

“According to your palm…,” he says softly, “…true love awaits…as soon as you’re ready.”

She’s silent at first, and he worries he’s ruined things— ruined seven years’ worth of things in the span of a minute. 

But then, in a quiet voice he’s never heard before, she responds, “I’ll be ready… soon.” 

He holds her hand until their shift is over.

I is for Ice Cream

Her favorite ice cream flavor is Mint Chocolate Chip.  He knows this (even though she doesn’t know he knows this), and once, during a rough case, he brings her some. He sneaks from his room after dinner, stops at three different gas stations before finding his prize. Sylvia’s Sundries and Smokes perhaps wouldn’t have been his first choice of establishments, but beggars can’t be choosers where ice cream’s concerned.

Surprise in hand, he knocks on Scully’s door and, with flourish, whips two plastic spoons from his pocket.  The nice thing about it?  She doesn’t even pretend not to want it.  She smiles a shy little smile and invites him in.  They climb up onto her bed where they scoop big whopping spoonfuls right out of the tub.  She’s full after only a few bites but sits with him while he finishes, lays her head on his shoulder. They watch the Late Late Show until it’s late late late, until it isn’t even the same day anymore.

J is for Jacket

Her suit jackets (he supposes they’re probably technically called blazers) have shrunk over the years.  Dana Scully of the plaid and boxy, of the oversized shoulder-pads, is now Dana Scully of the sleek and fitted, of the black and stylish and sexy.   He finds himself tugging his collar from his overheated neck sometimes. More than sometimes.

He wonders when things changed, because he can’t quite place a pin on it, when she went from a woman he loves to a woman he lusts after as well. Or maybe it’s unclear because he’s always done a little of both where Scully’s concerned. 

She left a jacket (blazer, whatever) at his apartment last year and he keeps forgetting to tell her he found it.  It hangs now in his closet next to pairs of pressed dress slacks.  He catches a glimpse of it sometimes, stands there wondering how soon ‘soon’ will come.

K is for Kiss

Back in the 60s, the 70s, when the turn of the millennium seemed ridiculously far away, Fox Mulder fantasized about the future. His comic books predicted: In the year 2000, there will be flying cars, teleportation devices, vacations on the moon and Mars... 

He imagined the party awaiting him on New Year’s Eve, complete with robot wait staff and space-age hors d’oeuvres.  Never would he have guessed he’d actually spend the evening in a hospital corridor, arm in a sling, nary a party nor robot in sight.

They were wrong about more than just the robots though, dead wrong, because not a single one of those comic books predicted this:  In the year 2000, there will be Dana Scully and her flame-red hair, Dana Scully and her skeptical sighs, Dana Scully and the world not ending while she presses her lips to his for the very first time. 

To think that at one time he wanted robots and jetpacks.  It’s laughable really, to have ever wanted anything on this earth (or on the moon, or on Mars) but Dana Katherine Scully.

L is for Lists

He arrives earlier than usual one morning, finds Scully’s open notebook lying flat on the desk. The beginnings of a list, he’s sure.  Scully loves lists. Books to Read, Articles to Write, Times Mulder Has Driven Me Crazy… He hasn’t physically seen that last one, but he’s sure it exists, somewhere in her purse or briefcase, or maybe just hidden away in her head.  

A quick glance confirms his suspicions. Personal Goals.  

He’s taken aback; he’d expected something trivial. Pros and Cons of Sunflower Seeds perhaps, but this…

He stalls, waits a minute, maybe two, but in the end is much too intrigued not to peek.  

1. Call Mom more often

2. Reach out to Bill

3. Volunteer at the church

They’re all so wonderfully Scully.  He’s not sure what else he expected.  Curiosity satisfied, he’s about to turn away when:  

15. Stop being afraid of my feelings

and below that:

16. Mulder

He stands stunned. He’s joked about appearing on Scully’s lists, but never like this, never as #16, never as a personal goal.  

He makes a list himself that night, condenses every one of his own goals down into just six letters.

1. Scully

2. Scully

3. Scully…

372. Scully…

1049. Scully…

He types her name until dawn has broken, until the printed ‘S’ has all but disappeared off his keyboard.

M is for Maybe

Maybe tomorrow’s the day.  He’ll toss her an innuendo, and instead of just catching it, she’ll throw one back herself.

The sun’ll come out tomorrow, isn’t that how the song goes?  Good things happen in the darkness, too, though—cemetery downpours, X-marked stretches of highway where her hair grows wavy from the rain. He and Scully manage just fine with no sun at all; they thrive in the darkness, no matter what the song says.

He packs up his things on a Friday afternoon, grabs his coat and offers his usual weekend farewell. But instead of Have a nice weekend, Mulder, she stops him, hand to his forearm, “It’s supposed to be beautiful tomorrow… Do you wanna… Maybe…”

Her cheeks are pink as she ducks her chin to her chest, and it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“Yeah,” he interrupts quickly, “Yeah, I do.”   He’s a bit too enthusiastic probably, but maybe tomorrows don’t actually happen that often for him on Friday afternoons.  

She smiles, cheeks still flushed, “Okay, then. Tomorrow…”  

On his way out the door he finds himself humming. Maybe the forecast for tomorrow is sunny after all, and not just because a little orphan girl told him so.

to be continued- we still have N-Z to go, and I promise Z will have been worth the wait!