#argentcus

[cursed-and-chosen]

The Present

@argentcus​, continued from here: X

anonymous asked:

(From cursed-and-chosen:) "I heard it's your birthday, so..." Harry held out a wrapped package. Inside was a sports cloak signed by a player of what Harry assumed had to be Malfoy's favorite Quidditch team. Getting his hands on it so easily had been one of the benefits of having defeated Voldemort to make up for the many disadvantages. He figured it was only appropriate to share some of said benefits with the person who had made his victory possible in the first place. "Happy birthday, Malfoy!"

“—What in Merlin’s name.”

Narrowed eyes evaluated the package Potter had so unceremoniously dropped upon his table. Fingers twitched, both wanting to pull it closer and press it away. It was haphazardly wrapped—perhaps of Potter’s own handiwork, before searching the man’s eyes for clues.

Nothing, and the gathering interest of the crowds in the St. Mungo’s cafeteria certainly didn’t help matters, the curious looks from the Healers and even—Draco suppressed a groan—one of his own patients. Of course Potter would elect now of all times to administer such aphilanthropy.

“What is it?” Draco asked, the package decidedly unmoved where it sat beside his salad. “Don’t tell me you hunted me down all the way here to give me a present, Potter.”

It had been a while since Harry had last been impressed by Malfoy's antics and his attempts at antagonizing him and making him look like a starry-eyed idiot whenever he was trying to be nice to him. At times, he still didn't quite understand just why such behavior could be necessary in the first place, and pride alone didn't serve as an adequate explanation. Besides, he had come too far to back down now – hunting him down and finding him at his workplace hadn't exactly been an easy feat – and Harry liked challenges far too much to give up on this one.

With a cocky smile playing along his lips, he taunted, „What's the matter, Malfoy? Scared of opening it?“

[nevcrperfect]

amaarok replied to your post “REPOST AND FILL IN THE ANSWERS YOU MOST ASSOCIATE YOUR CHARACTER WITH...”

Who’s the someone? I wanna know.

Oh, you know, Kara’s blonde. He said my baby’s a jellyfish, and then kissed her. S O R U D E.

[swanqiu]

a lack of common sense.

“I’ve decided you’re the only one I can trust.”

@argentcus:

( From Umbrella Academy Sentence Starters )

“A decision rather lacking in common sense on your part, don’t you think?”

Even the word itself had his fingers coiling in on themselves, the musculature of his back stiffening until it shrieked with unease. He cast his arms over the fine back of his office sofa, trailing the nervous digits over the fine, polished cherry.

He’d not expected Chang to come to him with concerns. Especially not him. The burden of his last name alone, not to mention the absolute curse of a mark that still shrieked his untrustworthiness from its spot bold and dark upon his inner left arm, didn’t allow him the luxury of a trustworthy aura. They’d been schoolmates, yes, but they certainly hadn’t interacted, nothing beyond the commonplace, Quidditch-fueled spat in the hallway and the tense matches on the Pitch, and in both of the circumstances they were nothing less than one another’s enemies; at least, as much enemy as a schoolchild could have.

And yet. He didn’t miss the determined look in her eye as she peered at him, more imploringly than not, from her spot across the squat and shining coffee table he kept in his work office- St. Mungo’s was austere from within, it smelled of harsh cleaning spells and despair and only in Draco’s suite of medic’s offices had he been able to furnish his surroundings to his tastes- and the look of his guest had the fine hairs at the back of his neck standing on end. He recognized that determination from the Pitch, the same look that preceded her nabbing the Snitch out from under him as she had more times than Draco’s pride would allow him to admit.

He squared his shoulders.

“I’m not sure how you think I can possibly help you.” Draco cast one leg over the opposite knee. He let a hand work its way through the air as he spoke. “I’ve little sway where anything where the Wizarding world is concerned, much as rumors might like to imply otherwise. Even less within the confines of the hospital. And I don’t give out loans without a consult with my personal financier.”

The necessary disclaimers.

Draco stood in a smooth motion, circumventing the sofa, approaching the little bar at the far end of his sorely underutilized desk.

“Coffee?” He called back to her. “Tea? Something- stronger?”

He wasn’t the self-assured boy she remembered from the Quidditch Pitch. That boy walked around with the world at his feet, with the world having to answer to him. This Draco Malfoy walked with the guarded stiffness of someone keenly aware that his entire world could be easily lost if he weren’t careful. Of someone wanting to prove himself to a world that didn’t necessarily want him. 

The nosy presuppositions.

"I’ll take a tea,” she finally replied, coolly, stiffening her own back as she sat straighter. “Green, if you have it. No milk, no sugar, thanks.”

It made sense, she supposed, that he wasn’t the same as she remembered, given all that Time and War had so graciously bestowed them. Last she had seen Malfoy, his face had circulated several front pages of the Daily Prophet before the paper finally tired of dragging his family’s name through the mud, and moved on to news that didn’t dredge out the fallout from the Battle. Cho had nearly forgotten him, quite honestly. Flashes of his scrimmage-swept bleach blond hair and permanent sneer of disdain faded from her more prominent memories, with time. Out of sight and out of mind. 

But then his name had made the rounds again, this time in the context of interesting philanthropic developments that forced her to reintroduce him to her mind and ask to meet with him. Urgently. 

She’d been surprised that he’d agreed, let alone responded to her owl at all. 

“Maybe a bit too ambitious of me. Maybe ‘trust’ isn’t the right word,” she began evenly, agreeing, lips pursing at his questioning of her starter. “Your help, then. I’ve decided you’re the only one who can help.”

Draco Malfoy had had an aristocratic look to him, once upon a time. She remembered thinking how out of place he looked on the Pitch, in dirtied gear and one-size-too-big shoulder pads-- a stark contrast to his thin, pointed face and demeanor of having never worked a chore in his life. Now, though, Cho couldn’t help noting the faint shadows under his eyes and the look within them that spoke of a deeper grit, of a history of forced growing up and growing into maturity, that seemed to exchange his once lofty aura for a rougher, broken-in spirit. 

She folded her hands in her lap and drew her knees together, gaze fixing on him as he wandered toward his desk. She wondered what he-- of all people-- was doing, working at a place like St. Mungo’s. “I can’t say that I care much for what sway you have here,” Cho added, drawing out his word of choice.

“What I’m about to tell you doesn’t concern the Wizarding world.”

[inazumashiko-archived]

Stupit little pest

A present for @argentcus.

Shiko’s feet rushed around the house. She didn’t know this one, never been here before, and she’d been brought without her nanny, so it was like a dream come true. She ran down yet another hallway, ricocheting from one wall to the other one. Her hands trailed over the wallpaper, she felt it move, and twirl under her fingers. She opened a few doors, the ones that were not locked, and peered inside. There were a lot of rooms in this house.

She took a turn to the right, and halted at once. She’d found her grandpa and her aunt, talking on a desk. Luckily, she remained undiscovered. Slowly, she tiptoed backwards, until she was out of sight. Shiko frowned and looked around, confused as to where she’d turned wrong that made her return to the starting point. The hallways seemed similar enough, she’d have to pay attention.

Oh well, she shrugged, and sprinted back from where she came from. One turn, two turns, th- oh! A staircase! She hopped up the stairs. Careful Shiko, you don’t want to trip and fall. You’d have to go to the hospital then. Her mother’s voice chided in her head. She shuddered. She never wanted to go back to the stupid hospital. She gasped, and took a hand to her mouth, worried she could somehow be discovered for having thought of that word. She looked around, and up and down the staircase, it seemed she was safe.

Iroh said that word, she’d heard him. And he said other ones too. Worse ones, because Joanne always told Shiko not to repeat any of them, but the word with F never, never. If her mom heard her- goodness, said Joanne. She giggled when Joanne said goodness, it was a cute word. But Shiko liked stupid. Because it sounded funny, and you could play with it a lot.

Stupid. Stuuupid. stUpid. S. T. U. P. I. D. S-tupiT.

She stopped at the top of the stairs, and realized she hadn’t counted, so she went back down and then back up. Sixteen steps. It was a lot, but she had twenty four in her house, so it wasn’t that much. The hospital had twenty, and then sixteen, and twenty two, and another twenty two, and then you turned, and then twenty, and then another turn, and then Dr. Turner was there! Shiko never got to walk all those stairs, or hop them. They took the elevator. But sometimes when her mom wanted to walk, and talk on the phone, Joanne would take her up. And she counted the steps anyway.

The top of the stairs looked nice. Like grandpa’s house, that had lots of carpets and all the gold stuff. She skipped down the new hallway. This one had three doors only, and they all looked super fancy. The first one was locked, she pouted. The second one had a bed, and bedroom stuff. So boring. She skipped to the third one. It was the coolest room ever!

Shiko looked around the hall, and peered into the room to see no-one was watching, and entered, carefully clicking the door behind her. She was amazed, this room was filled with books! So many of them! And there were a couch, and another couch, and a desk- the desk had a computer! She ran to it, and inspected the screen. It looked like her mom’s. She couldn’t touch that one. Iroh’s either, until he put on some secret code thing. He had secrets in it. She liked playing in the Penguin Club, she didn’t care of Iroh’s secrets.

Her finger moved over the pad, she’d found music, so she put it to play. Play was the button with the sleepy triangle, Iroh taught her that. Shiko bounced around the room to the music, looking at the books, and caressing them. There was one that had the letters all in sparkly blue, and another one all in gold. A lot had letters in gold. There were some tiny ones. Baby books! She picked up one and hugged it, and took it to bounce with her.

The music stopped. “What do you think you’re doing up here, little pest?” Shiko froze on the spot, and turned around scared, she’d been caught.

There was a man there, tall, with yellow hair and gray eyes, and he was looking funny at her. She squinted at him, head cocked to the side.

“Hey!” She pointed at the man, she knew him. “I know you!”

“Do you now?” He crossed his arms, Shiko left the baby book on a little table with a kiss, and imitated him.

“Yes, you’re aunt Zula’s boyfriend, Dwaco! You’re in a picture with me.” She rocked on her feet, excitedly to meet someone that knew her. “I am a baby on the picture, Joanne said it was me though, do you remember me?”

“I do remember you, as a matter of fact.” He laughed.

“You talk funny. I like it.” She commented with a grin.

“Dear God, you’re just as insufferable as your aunt, aren’t you?” Draco walked away and sat on one of the sofas. She followed him, sitting on the end of it, cross legged. Watching him.

“Insufferable.” She repeated, trying to imitate his accent. “Insufferable. Ins- Insufferable. This is a hard word.” He rolled his eyes. “Hey, what does pest mean?”

“It means you’re like a bunch of little mice.” He smiled. She smiled back at him.

“I like that. Mice are cute. Like Minnie, and Mickey. I have a Minnie doll. She has a polka dress.” Shiko played with one of her pigtails.

“A polka dress?” Draco asked, frowning. “Does the Minnie doll dance polka?”

“What? No, silly. A polka dress has lots of dots in it!” She giggled.

“Right, silly me. I just never had a Minnie in a polka dress.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll lend you mine!” She was quick to offer her doll. She had other dolls to play anyways.

“So how come you’re here alone, little pest?” He raised an eyebrow at her, and Shiko blushed a little.

“It’s ‘cause I came without a nanny today. Did you know I have a nanny? Her name is Joanne, and she makes the best cookies. Sometimes she lets me cook them with her, and I get to put the chocolate chips in it, and she brushes my hair, and she always goes with me everywhere, but today she couldn’t, and grandpa said, you can come with me, and I said for real, and he said for real, and then we came, and then aunt Zula said don’t break anything, and I didn’t.” She grinned up at him.

“Dear lord, what have you created?” He shook his head. Shiko repeated the phrase, working hard on that accent, and mimicking his movements. He sighed. She did too. He snorted. She did something similar. And then he was laughing. And she was laughing with him too.

“What did he create?” She asked serious, when they stopped laughing.

“He created you!” He poked at her ribs, and she laughed once more. “You, little pest, that comes here to my office and touches my stuff.” He kept on poking at her sides, and tickling her.

“No! Stop it! Stop it Dwaco!” She squirmed in his arms, and almost falls from the couch.

He caught her right before she reached the floor, her eyes were big with fear, and they both stayed very still for the longest time. Her doctor said she was okay now, that she could play and do stuff now, kids’ stuff. But still- when she hit herself he mom got a little crazy, and her dad too. And even Iroh got worried.

“Did you hit yourself?” Draco asked, worried. He had that crazy voice too. He inspected her arms and legs. “Does something hurt, Shiko?”

“No.” She looked over her body, frowning a bit. “No, it doesn’t hurt. I don’t want to go, please. I promise I didn’t hurt myself, let’s have the secret to us. I don’t want to go to the hospital. It’s stupit.” She marked the final T with a click of her tongue to her teeth.

He was thinking about it, she knew that grown up face. She didn’t like it. They always said awful things when they did that face. Finally he looked at her, grinned, and then laughed. “So the hospital is stupit, huh?” He asked amused.

“It is.” Her lips stretched to a smile. “It so stupit. I don’t ever, ever want to go back to the stupit hospital.” She was determined. She’d never go back to it.

“Come little pest.” Draco stood and extended a hand towards her. “Let’s go give your grandpa and aunt a fright for leaving you alone.”

“Where are we going?” She asked, hopping off the couch, and taking his hand in hers.

“We’re going out, to Mcdonalds, what do you think?” He looked down at her mischievously, and Shiko couldn’t possibly nod any quicker without loosing her head in the process.

“And then ice cream?” Her eyes widened in a plea.

“Yes, and then ice cream.” He pulled one of her pigtails, and she laughed.

[corda-comminuta]

A tainted Future

@argentcus

The Slytherin compartment was all but deserted – safe for them and a few others, who hadn't gotten the hint that Hogwarts was no longer their second home, that they were no longer truly welcome. Or perhaps, they actually did get the hint, but were foolish enough to harbor the desire to atone. Atone for decisions made for survival, decisions the validity of which only a Slytherin could grasp.

It was depressing, really – both, the presence and absence of those who'd decided to come or stay behind with their heads bowed in shame, and the weather, too, couldn't be drearier, reflecting the resignation and shame hanging over the compartment, the lush trees and scenery barely visible through all the fog.

“Isn't it pathetic?” Pansy turned to Draco, the only remaining member of her group present, and huffed. “It's only common sense to join the winning side, yet in that place poisoned by Dumbledore's ideals, it's become a crime to not care about idiotic bravery. Besides, from what I've heard, Potter only won because of luck again. Is that what we should've been betting on? On a so-called 'chosen one' being lucky?”

However, as acerbic as Pansy's words were, there was a growing part of her that wanted to be validated. After all, as the one who'd wanted to hand over Potter to the Dark Lord, it was her who bore the brunt of the other House's contempt, her who had fallen from the position of a prefect to the most unwanted and despised.

“Oh Draco,” she sighed, tone adopting the fragility and softness she only displayed around him. “Will things ever return to normal?”

[vaillance]

Neville resisted the urge to grimace at Draco. He should’ve expected some form of sharpness from him, after all, the Slytherin was notorious for his retorts, perhaps it was naive for him to think that Draco had outgrown such a thing and yet,  there was a part of him that found nostalgia within it. 

It didn’t stop him from exhaling a short breath in reply. His brows furrowed with resolve as Draco produced a list of plants he needed. This was something he could definitely help with. 

Reaching out to take the list, he read over it carefully and looked up at Draco incredulously.

 “ Many of these plants are dangerous to handle Draco and if I recall, you’ve spent a great deal of Herbology not paying attention. What kind of research are you doing that you need so many exotic plants? ” he had to know. 

@argentcus Continued from here: XXX

[panalamb]

Such a Boob

Draco Malfoy {@argentcus}

“You’ll forgive me, Parkinson, but when one grabs a man from behind, he very well might subsequently thrash in his haste to get out. I won’t have you reading into my attempts to break free.”

Still. His fingers encircled her wrists, viselike, and he held on tight. Lest she attempt and escape and alleviate his shoulders of her soothing weight.

“They’ll toss us in detention for acting the part of reckless first-years in the hallway.”

Pansy brought her legs around him to better her grip, kissing his cheek once she had readjusted.

“I’m going to get you back, you know,” she said, voice heavy with the threat despite her affections. “And it’s going to get us into a lot more trouble than detention.”

[foxturned]

❝ Facts are for the unimaginative. ❞

“Six of Crows” sentence starters. | Accepting.@argentcus

There were very few things which managed to render Theodore speechless, but his fellow Slytherin had very successfully done so with one simple sentence. What exactly was he supposed to reply to that? How could anyone imply that facts were merely a means of orientation, something that could be considered if one wanted to do so? Were they not the one thing that you could always trust in, no matter the circumstances?

He said none of that, though, despite the historian inside him almost screaming. This was a conversation Theodore did not want to have – especially because he could not just grab Draco’s shoulders and shake him until he saw sense.

After blinking a few times in confusion, he finally replied, “I fear I can’t quite follow your train of thought”, hoping it was enough.

[rorydesigns]

Draco Malfoy moodboard for @argentcus

-please do not repost-

[cursed-and-chosen]

A new future

@cursed-and-chosen asked:  “I wouldn’t have changed a thing . I need you to know that.”

@argentcus answered:

from Haunting of Hill House starters.

Draco spared the offensive tangle of black hair a disparaging glance over the rim of his drink.

“When a man looks back at his life and cannot think of a thing to change, that is not wisdom, Potter, it’s idiocy. Honestly, one would wonder if your last battle with snakeface knocked away some IQ along with the bit of soul that was clinging to you.”

It was in poor taste, perhaps, but Potter knew better than to cause a scene, at least not here, at least not in a Muggle bar that he’d dragged Draco to despite insurmountable well phrased objections on the victim’s behalf. But Potter, solid and thickheaded and blind as ever, had seen fit to ignore them. Hence why Draco was here, leaning upon the grimy cushioned barstool and drinking Muggle liquor for the first time in his life.

A disgrace, truly. And he’d thought he could sink no lower.

“So,” he started again, when Potter saw fit not to break the silence that had expanded between them. “Were you referencing anything specific, or would you prefer I utilize my vast imagination?”

Instead of protesting or lashing out, he simply remained silent.

If anything, Harry had almost missed Malfoy's acerbic taunts, so refreshing compared to the constant hero worship he'd been exposed to ever since Voldemort's defeat at his hands. It was a speck of normalcy amidst the chaos of interviews he was being roped into, of rabid fans attempting to break into his home, people bursting into tears as they clung to his hands or robes.

At this point, Muggle-run establishments like the bar he'd come to frequent were his sole safe haven.

“I wasn't. Just... everything, I suppose. But please, go ahead and use your imagination. That way, we can skip what you don't consider worth your precious time and get to the heart of the matter.“

Putting down the drink he'd been holding with a soft thud, he sought Malfoy's gaze with his own, emerald boring into silver as he declared, “You're lost, aren't you? Let me help fix that.”

[nevcrperfect]

Continued with @argentcus

Azula didn’t care to stop the bothered purse of her lips, nor the face towards the barista; honestly she couldn’t care for anything that was happening today, or the past couple of weeks, with her therapist.

She even felt like fighting his suggestion of the chair, except she had a limit on how much of a child she allowed herself to be while outside. And he knew it, of course he did, and that’s why he always found ways to get her surrounded by people, so that she couldn’t throttle him like she felt like doing.

“I can’t remember where I left off.” She said, eyeing her fingernails uninterestedly, lying with no care for a reprimand. Her eyes travelled to the lighting features on the wall behind him, rolling her eyes at how ordinary all of it was, water pipes and rustic wood, and could it get more hipster than this? Ugh, disgusting.

“So, what are we doing today, Dr. Malfoy?” She crossed a leg over the other, leaning back on the chair.

[swanqiu]

angst meme.

been cheated on  |  been bullied | told a horrible lie  | stolen something of value  | overdosed on drugs |  been drunk | cheated  | bullied | punched someone in the face | been beaten up | broken a bone | been admitted to a hospital  | had a near-death experience  | been drugged | done drugs |  smoked  |  kissed someone you weren’t attracted to | bled severely | killed someone | had an attempt on your life |  made an attempt on your own life |  lost someone | loved someone | gone without food for over three days | gone without sleep for over three days |  been tortured  | been slapped by a parent or higher up | been abused by someone who should have loved appreciated/valued you | had a panic attack |  been in a car accident | had sex | had sex with a stranger | passed out from pain |  cried yourself to sleep | spent a whole day in bed  |  hurt yourself | taken your anger out on yourself | taken your anger out on someone you love | been used | felt used | used | been terrified | played a cruel game on someone | been dominant | been submissive | been forced to smile | felt too many things at once | laughed when you felt like crying

tagged by : @lvncher tagging : @fallenmulciber @cunninghoused @argentcus @thelovelymissparkinson

[inazumashiko-archived]

MUSE: Shiko Inazuma

1) WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE SMELL LIKE? 

Peach, jasmine, vanilla, those are usually her predominant perfume and shampoo scents. In Modern Verse, her favorite perfume is Dolce & Gabbana, Dolce Garden.

2) HOW OFTEN DOES YOUR MUSE BATHE/SHOWER? 

Every day, especially in Avatar verses, where she trains daily, although she washes her hair less frequently, not to ruin it. 

3) DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE ANY TATTOOS OR PIERCINGS? 

So far, only a little blue flame on the inside of her right ankle, just in Modern Verse. Her ears are pierced, but just the usual lobe one.

4) DO THEY HAVE ANY BODY MOVEMENT QUIRKS (E.G. TAPPING HEEL, SHAKING KNEE) 

She bites her lower lip when she’s worried, or feeling shy. Tucks hair behind her ear a lot, and toys with her clothes, wrinkling and smoothing the fabric.

5) WHAT DO THEY SLEEP IN? 

In Avatar verses, a light nightgown, usually reaching to mid thigh. In Modern, she has an array of PJs, all with some colorful, and oftentimes childish cute print, although she sometimes just uses a large shirt and her underwear.

6) WHAT’S THEIR FAVOURITE PIECE OF CLOTHING? 

A cherry goldenrod dress she used to wear when she was little, and her brother took her out for ice cream. It’s kept carefully in a sheath at the back of her wardrobe, and she plans to put it to her baby girl if she ever has one.

7) WHAT DO THEY DO WHEN THEY WAKE UP? 

Unless something needs her attention early on, she’ll get dressed to train. It usually happens in a half-asleep state, where her bending’s call is stronger than her want to sleep in, and she usually allows a maid to braid her hair, because that gives her five more minutes of keeping her eyes closed.

Modern verse will usually find her burrowing further into the bed well into the third alarm on her mobile. She’ll then walk around her room in a zombie-like state, trying to avoid stepping on her cats, as she goes about her morning routine; bathroom, clothes, makeup, and the amazing cup of coffee that Joanne makes her, bless you Joanne.

8) HOW DO THEY SLEEP? POSITION? 

With ten thousand pillows, some make it all the way to the morning, some end up on he floor. She usually cuddles into them, curled on one side and the other.

9) WHAT DO THEIR HANDS FEEL LIKE? 

I’d imagine soft, delicate. She keeps her nails manicured, and her hands moisturized because of the calluses that the fire create. 

tagged by: @amaarok - Thank you!! ♡❤♡

tagging: @youngestgeneral, @bitofthisandthat (Asami), @argentcus

[panalamb]

[ read ]

Non-Sexual Acts of Dominance: [ read ]  your muse reading something to mine.

Pansy stared at the flames dancing in the fireplace as Draco’s voice washed over her. She wasn’t even sure what he was saying, what book he was reading from, or whether it was something important that she needed to actually be paying attention to. But his voice was captivating, as it always was, and she was thoroughly in his thrall.

[cursed-and-chosen]

Humor me, Potter.

“I’ll indulge you this time, Malfoy.”

[ @argentcus

My Opinion on;

Character in general: (This is another copy pasta :P) I used to dislike Draco for a long time thanks to JK Rowling’s *cough*wonderful way of treating characters who are not morally pristine *cough*, but thanks to some wonderful RPers (you included), I’ve been warming up to him more and more and by now, I consider him a tertiary-to-secondary fave of mine :) How they play them: I don’t even have words to describe how much I love your darker, more mature take on Draco. He’s so wonderfully intelligent and three-dimensional and complex he could easily be my second primary HP fave next to Tom Riddle because GOD, does your Draco outshine both canon versions of this character in every way possible O.O Just... please never stop writing Draco, okay?? O.OThe Mun: You’re one of the nicest people I’ve met in this fandom and talking and plotting with you has always been a complete and utter delight

Do I:

RP with them: Yesss!! And I couldn’t be more excited about our three threads O.OWant to RP with them: Always. Seriously, if you have any plot idea you’d like to explore, throw it at me hard - doesn’t matter if it knocks me off my feet :P

What is my;

Overall Opinion: I cannot even describe how much Harry and I adore this muse and mun O.O That and your writing is so incredibly vivid and beautiful I couldn’t be more in love with it either

Thank you very much for asking

[nevcrperfect]

“I pity the fool who taught you to take a stranger’s table without asking.”

“First of all, there’s nothing wrong from learning from fools.” Azula turned towards the annoying drawl, a hand on her hip, while the other one kept tapping impatiently on the host’s stand. “Some of the best lessons come from them. 

“And secondly, I reserved this table, over a month ago.”