#different versions of the magical princess because he’s so magical and sparkly

[leefyberrybread]

Get exploded bozo (affectionate/p)

I almost forgot but ⚠️ FLASH WARNING ⚠️ for the video

[angelkurenai]

Wish upon - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Title: Wish upon

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: You were close when Wanda’s grief took over and she inevitably started controling an entire town, including you. Being her closest friend, though, instead of simply playing along, you were given a normal life of your own, with a daughter and husband whom you knew very well but never thought you had feelings for. Months later as you try to figure out your emotions for Bucky, the man seems to be trying to find every reason to stay close to you. Including asking you to join him when he’s ready to follow Sam in his adventures.

“Is that... Is that what I think it is?” you blinked several times, head tilted as you took in the object your husband was, full of pride you could clearly tell, holding and showing off to you.

“You bet it is. Polished, glittered or bedazzled, I can never tell the difference it's equally sparkly anyway, but above all ready to deliver justice. It's finally finished. Right on time at that.” he set the small pink and sparkly shield on the kitchen counter, right next to the baby bottle you'd just filled, because he knew just as well as you did that it was honestly the only way you'd keep looking at the toy and hoped that you'd like it. Which you did, sure, but not in the way Bucky hoped. “Well, what do you say about it?”

“I say that it would certainly deliver justice, no doubt by dazzling the bad guys first and foremost. Besides-” you tore your eyes away from the toy to narrow them at your husband “Just on time for what?”

“Halloween, of course.” he shrugged casually as he slowly made to reach for a piece of the potatoes you'd cooked to have on the side for dinner, but you noticed him and slapped his hand away, earning a not-so-innocent smile in return “I mean... What else is there else to talk about, of significance, in a small town like Westview besides holidays and who the new otherworldly couples in town are. The second having little to no point when one's wife can read minds, amongst so many other things, and said one is a metal-armed 106-year-old.” he sighed, raising his metal arm which he usually kept covered when outside “Honestly, I don't know who're gonna get called out on it first. Wanda and Vision or us.”

“We're handling it great. Besides, oh well a 15 year old gap is so overrated anyway. I tell you, 106 is the new 30, don't you worry a second, dear. You don't look a day over that.” you smiled sweetly, leaning in to peck his lips as he grinned.

“Ah yes, coming from the woman who last time we fought you told me that it's time to stop mourning over my buddy Rexi the dinosaur cause they're all gone now.” he said with a raised eyebrow and you shrugged.

“I don't see what you mean, I was still right.” you brushed him off, checking once more the temperature of the milk “Besides, getting off track here? You still haven't explained to me how that lovely and sparkly shield is of any use to us in Halloween?”

“Well, not us, obviously.” he turned to, according to everyone including him, his little princess “Jean of course!” he picked one of her hands and let her tiny fingers wrap around one of his as she let a giggle when he kissed her belly “It's all you've been talking about with Wanda these days. Her boys have their suits already in mind, it wouldn't be right for Jean to not have hers. It's her first Halloween anyway, even if she can't do any proper trick or treat yet.”

“I'm well aware of that, seeing as I've been planning all of ours suits. And no-” you raised a finger when you saw him raise an interested eyebrow “No, I'm not wearing the skirt version of it. Besides, what we're talking about here is Jean and I still fail to see how a shield will be any part of our little Phoenix's suit.”

“Well, because it's Halloween and she's- Well, she's part of this and she'll- The shield is part of the suit, honey. Obviously. I don't see what confuses you so much as to-”

“And I don't see what confuses you so much that you'd make a shield for her, beautiful as it might be, even though it has no place in all of it. Especially after I made it quiet clear on what costume will be.” you pointed out, baby bottle back on the counter as you crossed your arms over your chest “Honestly, I would rather her have a sparkly version of Sam's redwing before incorporating the shield in her phoenix look.”

He let silence fill the room, save for your daughter's adorable baby noises, before he finally spoke in all seriousness “No, no you wouldn't. You hate that thing too... It was the main reason that made me ask the question, like when you realize you've met your soulmate.”

“I-” only half a pause before you nodded “Yeah, you're right. I hate it... although I can't really remember how it looks like sometimes to be honest. Huh weird.” you let out a breathless laugh, frowning nonetheless.

“Oh how I'd wish for that sort of blessing.” he huffed “Including its owner.”

“Hush you love him!” you hit his shoulder “And, well, that's still all besides the point. Because Jean is not going to have a redwing or shield to her phoenix look in any sort of way. Maybe next Halloween if you wanna choose the costume, fine by me. But this year I am following through with my plans and not changing my mind.”

“Plans of what? Her being a phoenix bird? I get it, it's all magical and what not but-”

“Not just any phoenix bird, geez weez, do you not even listen when I speak, Mr Barnes?” you shook your head with a roll of your eyes.

“Well, sometimes it gets impossibly hard when you look as stunning as today, Mrs Barnes. Sadly all words fade away and as I am captured by your beauty all I can seem to hear is kiss me. How can I not comply?” he said so innocently and with such an adorable smile you couldn't help your fond one in return.

Seeing such adoration and love written all over your face had your heart on overdrive again, as if it was the first time you realized you were in love with him again. It was incredible how you could barely remember that moment whenever you thought about it, however you didn't care. You couldn't find yourself to care when looking at him had your chest fill with warmth, a pleasant buzz all over your body and no weight dragging you down. He made things more simple, having his love and having him by his side made life have meaning and your future full of hope. It hadn't been easy, that much in a way you could remember, but you knew it was worth it because he was worth it. You wanted to give him all your love, wishing that it could live up to the one in his eyes for you in return, so that he could understand what you did from the first moment you met him: he deserved it.

And even if- you couldn't explain why you thought so, but even if there were ever people that would willingly leave him behind, even if you'd never understand that, you were ready to show to him that you could and would be with him till the end of the line. This love you had in you for him had sealed the deal long before you even knew about it.

If anything, you were more than willing to live in this small town, heavens in these four walls of your house, so long as you had him by your side and were able to give him all the love you didn't know you had for him.

You shook your head lightly and gave him “Sweet talking me will get you nowhere, darling. Or rather-” you paused, smirking at him “It might get you in one place. The bedroom.” you grinned when you saw his eyebrows raise in interest “To get Jean's suit. Cause I remember I have some adjustments to make.”

“Bet you do.” he huffed like a little child “Cause she'll be a bird and not a superhero who-”

“Not just a phoenix bird, Buck. The phoenix, that's different.” you pointed out, making him frown.

“How is that different? And what... is the phoenix?”

“Well, it's-” you started but paused abruptly, frowning at your own thoughts “It's actually-” you blinked several time and let out a nervous laugh “Funny thing, I... can't remember. Wow that's... it happens all the more often lately.”

“Can't be important then, right?” he brushed it off casually even though you kept frowning in deep thought which for some reason didn't lead anywhere “Certainly no more than Jean's suit that it... And how we could incorporate a shiel-”

“No.” you cut him off before he could get to complete his sentence “Not gonna happen. I've already got everything planned, you're not going to ruin my plans.”

“Is this how it's gonna go every Halloween now? Us fighting over what Jean's costume will be until she's old enough to choose herself?”

“Oh dear, of course not. It's not fighting when you don't stand a chance against me in the first place.” you shrugged innocently and he tried to look stern by narrowing his eyes at you but you smiled and pecked his lips before speaking “I mean, you could never say no to these pretty eyes, could you?” you batted your eyes at him and he very fast, much faster than last time, sighed in defeat and nodded his head “Besides, you don't have to worry. Next Halloween we'll make her a costume that incorporates the shield too, happy?”

“Always.” he breathed out with such ease that it took a few seconds for you to not openly stare at just how much relaxed he looked, how he truly meant it and how shockingly different he looked while admitting it compared to only a few months ago... months, you weren't sure of the time anymore but truth was that you didn't care, because if there was one thing you could remember was that he had not always been like this and to have him truly happy made everything worth it.

“However-” he cleared his throat, as if noticing how you'd zoned out “That doesn't really solve the problem. Having to compromise, you know. Why should any of us have to? However, if we were to have more than one option...” he trailed off, leaning in closer without any regard for your personal space, not that he needed to, as you narrowed your eyes suspiciously at him “Say... if we were to have more than one options then things wouldn't be this hard, right? Just... to make it easier on ourselves?”

“Make it easier... how exactly?”

His hands found your hips, earning a small giggle from you as he pecked your neck once, twice and three times before he kissed your cheek and the temple, whispering in the end “Let's make more.” it earned a squeal from your as your eyes widened but he grinned even more widely “Come on, think about it. A little boy or maybe another baby girl, Jean would make a great sister. And we wouldn't have to argue about the Halloween costumes. Besides... would be a fun process either way.”

“You have to be kidding me.” you gave him a serious expression but his hopeful smile- no, scratch that. His smile that was bordering that of an idiot, if not lovesick one (but you were on the same boat on that), didn't fade in the least bit “Oh you have to- Alright, Mr Barnes, how about you learn how to feed your daughter without making a mess first and then you can come and talk to me about a second or third one hm? Cause, good as you might be at changing diapers, it ain't just that.”

“She just makes a mess because she enjoys to laugh at my expense, just like you and Sam.” he pointed out and you fought back a smile “And- Hold up a second... did you just say third? You think you're gonna let me ask for a third one too?”

Your eyes widened when you realized that he was really considering the prospect before your lips parted, you being ready to retort-

Only for no words to be uttered after that from your lips. The only sound being a deep intake of air as you were startled awake. Soon followed by a groan as you took in your surroundings and realized you were sadly still in your room. Sadly? Really? You didn't know if that was the case but even if it was, you didn't want to think even more about it. You buried your face in your pillow, not ready to face the day yet because... who were you even kidding? You wanted to go back to it. If not that fake reality, if not the playhouse that Wanda had built out of her grief and had dragged you into it as well - and maybe you hated yourself for how part of you did want that - then at least your dream would be nice.

It's been months and yet it feels as if it's been just yesterday that you were all released from her control. How could you not feel that way after all? When you were awake, the fake reality you'd thought your life was constantly on your mind, and when you were asleep even if you were not thinking of it, you were dreaming about it. It was constantly on your mind. And as if the experience itself, mind-control and all, hadn't left you with a few mental scares to add to your already existing ones to take care of, then the realization of the truth that lay within your own heart, was more than enough to keep the events replaying on your mind day and night.

To put matters simply: when you had followed your best friend, Wanda, after seeing her so distraught, leaving SWORD, you had never thought you'd find yourself playing house with a fake copy of one and only James Bucky Barnes thanks to said best friend. But while there was a chance for that, you never thought there was a chance that you'd realize you had feelings for the man all along.

Your life had been different there. Maybe because you were always close with the other Avenger, who knew. While there were times where you'd experience Wanda's grief, her nightmares from time to time came to haunt you at night just like it did with the rest of the town, your life was mostly... good. No, forget that, your life was nearly perfect. You had everything you wished for and things you didn't even know you had wished for. Maybe deep down you had always wanted it, a normal life, peace and calm, a kid whether it was yours or not... Bucky. You had probably always wanted him but didn't know it yourself, no doubt you were too busy crushing over Steve.

If only your current self could see your past self, or at least self of barely a year ago, you'd have smacked some sense into your stupid self who thought Steve Rogers was the only man you could ever have eyes for. While you had come to be very close with the Captain and ended up doing almost everything together, everyone thought there was much more to the two of you, that it hadn't even occurred to you to think that Steve wasn't really the one you wanted. Maybe you had convinced yourself so, in a way that now that he was no longer there you were more shaken by the fact that you were not shaken by how he had decided to live his life with Peggy in the past than his absence itself.

You had not felt any sort of betrayal, nor that you were suddenly all alone, certainly not as if anything was missing from your life. Granted, you had plenty to think about most of the time, day and night, but that didn't change things. You wished Steve had had a happy ending and you would on the occasion miss him the way you'd miss... a brother. You were always calm, no worries or fears, content with the fact that you knew he had been happy even if it was away from you because, in a way, you wanted it to be that way, it was natural. However, the mere thought of someone else leaving, someone that you thought far too often about, made your heart leap to your throat and your stomach tie in knots. The mere thought that Bucky could leave the way Steve had done made your throat close in a painful way and your eyes burn with tears, making you realize just who mattered the most.

If, again, Wanda plucking the truth about your feelings for the man to give you a life with him wasn't proof enough.

Your phone buzzing made you jump once more, eyes landing on the device on the nightstand. Reaching for it you were not surprised to see the messages that were pilled in your inbox. All from the same specific someone. A specific someone you had found yourself speaking with all the more often lately. Each time successfully managing to make you smile in one way or another, without fail.

Good morning. :)

Did I use that one correctly? I keep forgetting them, no matter how many times you show me.

And show him you had, just like that there was an option for him to choose from different ones instead of having to type them, but that was still work in progress. So even if Bucky learning emojis was a memory that you'd cherish forever, it wasn't the only important one at the moment.

On second thought, it's a bit too early.

You're probably still asleep. Nevermind. Sorry for bothering you.

And then more, shortly afterwards.

I only wanted to know if you're alright, that's all.

Anyway, hope I didn't wake you up.

He, much like everyone else, thought it was hard on you to deal with Steve being gone so he did his best to keep in touch and being as selfish as you were, you didn't bring yourself to tell him the truth that you cared more to know about how he was and wanted the contact for that. Maybe he was also worried about you after Wanda's mind-control too. But if Sam's words were anything to go by, then it was all an excuse for Bucky to stay close with you. You didn't let your hopes get up for that reason though. You could gladly take whatever you got without wondering.

Again it was followed not much later by another message.

I've actually got something to talk to you about. Something happened, though you could already know if you saw the news. Can I come over to talk with you? I need your opinion on the matter.

And shortly afterwards came.

I've already got your favorite breakfast. To make up for, probably, waking you up. :)

The next one had taken longer, he had probably been waiting for an answer all that time. You couldn't help but feel bad about it. That and the fact that the reason behind you not replying earlier was because of how immensed you were in your fantasy life with him that you had not told him a thing about.

(Y/n)... are you sure you're alright? It's getting late even for you.

Truth was you had more trouble waking up after having a dream of that time. But you couldn't tell him that. And then there was the latest one.

Alright, I'm coming over. I really hope you're not dead in there. I'm not going to let you hear the end of it if you are. Oh dear, I sound like Sam right now. Forget I ever said that. Both of it.

Before you even had the time to think about what he could mean, because no you had really not seen the news yet, let alone type back a reply, the door to your bedroom burst open. It earned a squeal from you as you looked with wide eyes at Bucky standing on the doorway. You weren't even surprised how you hadn't heard him, not when he already had keys to your apartment and could easily sneak up on you. Not that him surprising you was what you cared about at the moment. It was, and you could only admit it to yourself, more important how you looked at the moment – and having just woken up you weren't sure just how attractive you looked – than anything else. Especially when Bucky looked better than ever with that new haircut that you were sure he'd gotten on purpose, just to test how much your heart could take.

“I thought doors existed back in your days, Barnes. Maybe knocking was an option too.”

You saw him let out a sigh of relief, shoulders relaxing “What would have been the point if you were dead? You wouldn't have replied anyway.”

“Bold of you to assume I would miss on another chance to lecture you about the proper use of emojis, Mr Barnes. Even death could not stop me.” you broke into a grin and he chuckled.

“What, did I really mess it up?” he asked with a small, far too adorable for your own good, frown.

“Oh no you got it just right.” you said softly, adoring the proud look on his face before you added “However, I've told you, you don't have to type them anymore. There is an option on your keyboard with that kind of stuff for you to-”

“Eh alright, alright I get it. I suck at it. I'm not even gonna try using them anymore.”

“Wha- No!” you whined softly “No, Buck, I didn't mean that. Come on, you're good. You just... have a lot to learn still.” you shrugged “That's all. We didn't do great at first either. Nobody really got emojis a first, but you'll get the hang of it.”

“But you still think I am a grandpa when it comes to technology. And my age doesn't help on that case either.” he shrugged, as if he meant it casually as a joke but you could see a small hint of self-consciousness there as well.

“Nonsense.” you said softly, finally throwing the blankets off you “You're far from a grandpa, Buck. In fact, I strongly believe that 106 is the new 30, and you don't look a day over that.” the words were out of your lips before you could even think about it and when you realized what you'd said, your smile flattered a bit. You were glad his back was turned to on that second that he didn't notice. You cleared your throat, sobering up “Besides, new things are not everyone's cup of tea anyway.”

“Uh yeah...” you notice the relaxed, and almost happy, look fade away from his face as his eyebrows pulled back into a frown. He looked down for a second, leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets “Things do change. Sometimes faster than we can adapt to the new world around us.”

“Alright, unless you're channeling Charles Darwin right now, which I don't think you are, care to explain to me what's wrong? Because... I am guessing something is, judging by your expression.” you got up and approached “Is this... about the shield? I- I don't know if Sam giving it up is that much of a good choice however... he must have his reasons, right?”

“Well, yes, but- this is not just about that.” he sighed, finally looking up to meet your eyes “Something happened and I've been thinking about it, I wanted your opinion on it. You know it matters to me.”

“...And? There is more to that, come on. Tell me.” you knew him too well and you hadn't even realized when that happened too “You know you can... Always.”

“I do.” he paused for a moment, holding your gaze before he let a soft sigh “It's just, I am going to go find Sam and... I want you to come with me. If you're up for it, I would like you to be there with me... maybe?”

“You know... I should punch you just for doubting whether I'd follow you or not. But just because it won't lead anywhere for me-” you smirked at him “Buy me dinner too and consider yourself excused and me up for any challenge. Strongest Avenger at your disposal, Mr Barnes.” you patted his shoulder, enjoying the deep chuckle that came from him. Even if his next words made the air get caught in your throat.

“It's a date then.”

[richincolor]

New Releases

A whole slew of books coming out this week, many we've been looking forward to for a while. I can't wait to add some of these to my TBR pile.

Perfectly Parvin (Perfectly Parvin #1) by Olivia Abtahi G.P. Putnam’s Sons Books for Young Readers

Parvin has just had her heart broken when she meets the cutest boy at her new high school, Matty Fumero–with an emphasis on fumero, because he might be the smoking hot cure to all of her boy troubles. If Parvin can get Matty to ask her to homecoming, she’s positive it will erase all the awful and embarrassing feelings He Who Will Not Be Named left her with after the summer. The only problem is Matty is definitely too cool for bassoon-playing, frizzy-haired, Cheeto-eating Parvin. Since being herself has not worked for her in the past (see aforementioned relationship), she decides that to be the girl who finally gets the guy, she should start acting like the women in her favorite rom-coms. Those girls aren’t loud, they certainly don’t cackle when they laugh, and they smile much more than they talk. Easy enough, right?

But as Parvin struggles through her parent-mandated Farsi lessons on the weekends, a budding friendship with a boy she can’t help but be her unfiltered self with, and dealing with the ramifications of the Muslim Ban on her family in Iran, she realizes that being herself might just be the perfect thing after all.

The Marvelous Mirza Girls by Sheba Karim Quill Tree Books

To cure her post–senior year slump, made worse by the loss of her aunt Sonia, Noreen is ready to follow her mom on a gap year trip to New Delhi, hoping India can lessen her grief and bring her voice back.

In the world’s most polluted city, Noreen soon meets kind, handsome Kabir, who introduces her to the wonders of this magical, complicated place. With Kabir’s help—plus Bollywood celebrities, fourteenth-century ruins, karaoke parties, and Sufi saints—Noreen begins to rediscover her joyful voice.

But when a family scandal erupts, Noreen and Kabir must face complicated questions in their own relationship: What does it mean to truly stand by someone—and what are the boundaries of love?

Check out Crystal's Review: The Marvelous Mirza Girls

Made in Korea by Sarah Suk Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers

There’s nothing Valerie Kwon loves more than making a good sale. Together with her cousin Charlie, they run V&C K-BEAUTY, their school’s most successful student-run enterprise. With each sale, Valerie gets closer to taking her beloved and adventurous halmeoni to her dream city, Paris.

Enter the new kid in class, Wes Jung, who is determined to pursue music after graduation despite his parents’ major disapproval. When his classmates clamor to buy the K-pop branded beauty products his mom gave him to “make new friends,” he sees an opportunity—one that may be the key to help him pay for the music school tuition he knows his parents won’t cover…

What he doesn’t realize, though, is that he is now V&C K-BEAUTY’s biggest competitor.

Stakes are high as Valerie and Wes try to outsell each other, make the most money, and take the throne for the best business in school—all while trying to resist the undeniable spark that’s crackling between them. From hiring spies to all-or-nothing bets, the competition is much more than either of them bargained for.

But one thing is clear: only one Korean business can come out on top.

Tokyo Ever After by Emiko Jean Flatiron Books

Izumi Tanaka has never really felt like she fit in—it isn’t easy being Japanese American in her small, mostly white, northern California town. Raised by a single mother, it’s always been Izumi—or Izzy, because “It’s easier this way”—and her mom against the world. But then Izzy discovers a clue to her previously unknown father’s identity…and he’s none other than the Crown Prince of Japan. Which means outspoken, irreverent Izzy is literally a princess.

In a whirlwind, Izzy travels to Japan to meet the father she never knew and discover the country she always dreamed of. But being a princess isn’t all ball gowns and tiaras. There are conniving cousins, a hungry press, a scowling but handsome bodyguard who just might be her soulmate, and thousands of years of tradition and customs to learn practically overnight.

Izzy soon finds herself caught between worlds, and between versions of herself—back home, she was never “American” enough, and in Japan, she must prove she’s “Japanese” enough. Will Izumi crumble under the weight of the crown, or will she live out her fairytale, happily ever after?

On the Hook by Francisco X. Stork Scholastic Press

Hector has always minded his own business, working hard to make his way to a better life someday. He’s the chess team champion, helps the family with his job at the grocery, and teaches his little sister to shoot hoops overhand.

Until Joey singles him out. Joey, whose older brother, Chavo, is head of the Discípulos gang, tells Hector that he’s going to kill him: maybe not today, or tomorrow, but someday. And Hector, frozen with fear, does nothing. From that day forward, Hector’s death is hanging over his head every time he leaves the house. He tries to fade into the shadows – to drop off Joey’s radar – to become no one.

But when a fight between Chavo and Hector’s brother Fili escalates, Hector is left with no choice but to take a stand.

The violent confrontation will take Hector places he never expected, including a reform school where he has to live side-by-side with his enemy, Joey. It’s up to Hector to choose whether he’s going to lose himself to revenge or get back to the hard work of living.

Enduring Freedom by Jawad Arash & Trent Reedy Algonquin Young Readers

On September 11, 2001, the lives of two boys on opposite sides of the world are changed in an instant.

Baheer, a studious Afghan teen, sees his family’s life turned upside down when they lose their livelihood as war rocks the country.

A world away, Joe, a young American army private, has to put aside his dreams of becoming a journalist when he’s shipped out to Afghanistan.

When Joe’s unit arrives in Baheer’s town, Baheer is wary of the Americans, but sees an opportunity: Not only can he practice his English with the soldiers, his family can make money delivering their supplies. At first, Joe doesn’t trust Baheer, or any of the locals, but Baheer keeps showing up. As Joe and Baheer get to know each other, to see each other as individuals, they realize they have a lot more in common than they ever could have realized. But can they get past the deep differences in their lives and beliefs to become true friends and allies?

Off the Record by Camryn Garrett Knopf Books for Young Readers

Ever since seventeen-year-old Josie Wright can remember, writing has been her identity, the thing that grounds her when everything else is a garbage fire. So when she wins a contest to write a celebrity profile for Deep Focus magazine, she’s equal parts excited and scared, but also ready. She’s got this.

Soon Josie is jetting off on a multi-city tour, rubbing elbows with sparkly celebrities, frenetic handlers, stone-faced producers, and eccentric stylists. She even finds herself catching feelings for the subject of her profile, dazzling young newcomer Marius Canet. Josie’s world is expanding so rapidly, she doesn’t know whether she’s flying or falling. But when a young actress lets her in on a terrible secret, the answer is clear: she’s in over her head.

One woman’s account leads to another and another. Josie wants to expose the man responsible, but she’s reluctant to speak up, unsure if this is her story to tell. What if she lets down the women who have entrusted her with their stories? What if this ends her writing career before it even begins? There are so many reasons not to go ahead, but if Josie doesn’t step up, who will?

[ourplaceinthecosmosphff]

Chapter 1. The Case Against Fairytales

'his eyes across a room tangled up in her imagination they had spent a lifetime together by the time he said hello' atticus

My brother died the same way he came into the world: silent, eyes closed, changing my life as I knew it. 

We spent our whole lives trying to convince anyone we could that we were as regular as they were, but here's the first fundamentally different thing when you are royal: the meaning of the word ‘everyone’. 

In our case, we usually mean anyone in the country, most of the international media, and at least a sizeable majority of the world's population. It's not that everyone knew us... it's just that enough people did. Enough for it to be easier to call them 'everyone'. 

When my brother Louis was born, mom had been rushed to the hospital in the middle of a Sunday afternoon. The press was notified, they promptly set up camp at the hospital entrance, and the people started prayer campaigns to the safe arrival of their new prince and heir. Everyone rejoiced at his arrival. I remember, I was there. 

At three years-old, it felt like everyone was every single person in the planet. It was mostly just the people in our country; to everyone else, his birth was a quick, short line of announcement, maybe some notice to the fact that the newborn baby boy was taking his older sister's place as heir, and not much else. 

When he died, everyone was every single person in the planet. The second thing fundamentally different when you are a royal: from a very early age you must learn that tragedy sells more than joy. And in any constitutional monarchy country, a royal family is merely another commodity.

A few people talked about my early graduation from University. A lot more people talked about my boyfriend breaking up with me. There were a few articles about my little sister's victory at the ice-skating junior final. When she fell on her face in front of the cameras while attempting a risky move, she went viral. When my brother came into our lives, a few people took notice. 

When he left us, everyone did.

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

I, too, am a victim of culture appropriation. Since the dawn of time, from the moment humankind developed communication skills, there has been storytelling. And for the past few thousands of years most stories that parents tell their young as they tuck them into their blankets every night, have been about my culture. As far as that goes, it is not the most damaging kind of culture appropriation. But I have a duty today, and I will not shy away from it. I am sorry to say I must, and will, shatter the beautiful image of fairytales that kids have been fed for so many years now. 

I know what you are thinking – oh, boo-hoo, the poor little princess girl; is life too difficult in your beautiful palace with all the money a person could ever need? And yes, I know. I am not a victim. The same colonialism that placed my ancestors, and therefore, me, in the position of privilege and power I am in today has created many more actual victims around the world. But that is also why I must tell this story the way it was always meant to be told: truthfully. With all the weird, awkward, awful, bits and pieces that fairytales tend to skip. 

Fairytales would, for instance, skip straight to the grand, majestic welcome ceremony between the Queen of the United Kingdom and the King of Savoy in a sun floored courtyard with guards on tall, furry black hats strutting around, standing in a red-carpeted dais, with a handsome prince making eyes at me. But in my story, we will start with the train. 

That’s right, in modern fairytales you don’t take a lovely carriage ride to a neighboring kingdom. You take a train there – a commercial train, if you can, because modern times beg for demonstrating to the masses that the Monarch isn’t throwing money around. We were trying to highlight the easy routes of access to our neighbors to the northeast, and so we took the ferry across the Celtic Sea to Hugh Town Island and from there, Eurostar number 2 train that made a quick stop in Penzance, UK, and then went straight to London. 

The train ride isn’t comfortable – even if you have a first class private car. It’s bumpy and crowded and a terrible place to spend three straight hours. On that particular morning, I was in our car with my father, his household secretary Auguste, my private aide, Cadie, and a few other staff members. 

In fairytale world, when a princess does not look the part, there is usually the appearance of a fairy godmother who sings a nice song and magically transforms her into a Proper Princess™. There is no fairy godmothers when you are a real princess- real ones, sure, but they are not magical-, but you do learn from an early age what a Proper Princess™ should look like, act like, and sound like, and god forbid you don't. 

In the train that day, I heard all that was keeping me from being Proper™ from Auguste, who was in many ways the exact opposite of a fairy godmother. He had all the menacing authority of one, with none of the charm. He also didn’t have wings or a sparkly wand; he had greying short hair, and thin, small, reading glasses that he always pushed down to the tip of his nose to look above, which made me wonder what was the point of the glasses at all.

Before our arrival, I had to change my lipstick, which was too dark, my dress, which was too short at the daring height of above my knees, my shoes, which were open toed and therefore wrong, and finally, make sure to brush my hair once more.

My parents never subscribed to the idea that we were forbidden to do anything. They were raised on stern rules and heavily traditional costumes and wanted their kids to live more freely. So, growing up, they revolutionarily told us that we were free to be whoever we wanted to be – in private. In public, we had an obligation to be Proper™. After all, as I heard repeatedly growing up: royals don’t make mistakes, we make history; and history remembers.

So, yes. I, a grown, 25 years-old, law-school graduate, bar-approved acquisitions lawyer, changed out of my dress into a more proper one because my dad asked. Because as a princess, you’re never just yourself; you’re the country. And if your country comes from a Roman Catholic tradition, your hemlines must reflect that, no matter what century it is.

The country in question was just to the south of the United Kingdom, west of France, a large island named Savoie. The English call it Savoy, which is how it was pronounced anyway. It was originally populated by the Irish, but over the years it was conquered by the English, the Spanish, and the Portuguese until finally, in the 13th Century, it was conquered by France. It was bigger than Ireland, but smaller than England, and one of the biggest GDPs in the world, with a population of 49 million. Under the reign of Louis XV, however, France lost most of its possessions after its defeat in the Seven Years' War, and to secure Savoy, the king sent part of the court to live there and to reign in his stead as his emissaries. Louis XV's reign grew weak, including his ill-advised financial, political and military decisions, which discredited the monarchy and arguably led to the French Revolution 15 years after his death. France dealt with its dissatisfaction by revolting, Savoy however, secluded away at sea, decided to declare independence before the Revolution had even taken steam. The political leaders of the Island reached an agreement with the king's emissary, Prince Louis, the highest ranking monarch on the island; in exchange for support for the severance of all connection to France, he was then made King Louis I of Savoy. The Royal House of Savoy grew steady and strong by protecting its people and assuring them a freer, better life than the one they'd known under French reign.

A few years later, I sat on that train in front of the current King of Savoy. My father. 

“You look beautiful, Maggie.”

“Thank you.” 

“The other dress was beautiful as well. Just not for today.”

“Mm-hm.”

A moment of silence went by. I picked up my phone and checked my emails. There was one from Sophie with the subject ‘urgent!’ so I clicked in it feeling my heart race.

It read,

‘Marie, I’m sorry to bother you on your days off, but the depositions got moved up to Monday and we can’t find the notes on the manager deposition, you were the one who did them. Is there any chance you have a copy and if so can you send them to me? Enjoy England! XO Soph’

Sighing, I put down my phone and quickly found my laptop on my suitcase. I turned it on as I replied to Sophie’s email to tell her to expect my deposition notes shortly. 

“You know if we could I’d let you wear whatever you wanted.” Dad added as I logged into my computer.

“I do.”

I moved quickly through my folders realizing the most recent update on my notes hadn’t been uploaded to the cloud. Sighing, I logged on to the train WiFi and checked the storage service online. It didn’t connect.

“Honestly, darling, you look even prettier with this dress.”

I looked up, mentally wondering if the previous versions of the notes would be useful.

“This isn’t about the dress.”

I realized, then, that it wouldn’t matter anyway because I wouldn’t be able to send them to Sophie without internet. I looked out the window, realizing perhaps too late that we were in the tunnel, underwater. Of course there wasn’t internet.

“Well, what is it about?” Dad asked, putting his book marker back inside the page he was on and laying down the book to give me his full attention.

“Work, papa. I have a job.”

“Yes, and it’s your day off. Maybe you should try and turn off from work for the next few days?”

I smiled down to my computer, “maybe this is a conversation for another time.”

Dad adjusted his posture, looking a little taller, and looked around the room to Cadie and Auguste sitting in a booth nearby with our private hair and make-up artist, and dad’s footman, and personal aide.

“Excuse me, everyone, would you be so kind as to give us the room? Or, uh, the car? There is a little lounge outside, isn’t there?”

“Of course, sir.” Auguste said, jumping up immediately with the aide, and Cadie and Cass, the make-up artist, followed.

After they had left and closed the door behind them, I looked at my father. He lurched back in his seat and smiled at me. 

“Go on,” he said. “If you don’t scream I don’t think they’ll hear us.”

“Why would I scream?”

“I don’t know, Maggie. But I don’t know why you would be so passive aggressive, either. Can you tell me?”

“What do you want, dad?” 

In truth, I added the ‘dad’ at the end of the sentence to make it sound less aggressive, but as he stared at me, I felt uncomfortable not explaining myself.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”, I asked, tiredly. “I’m here, wearing a proper, long, not-slutty dress-“

“No one here used that word-“

“My toes will be perfectly hidden away when we arrive, I have hidden my ugly, evil legs under some stockings-“

“Really, Maggie, no one said your legs were-“

“My make-up is light and my hair is simple and non-threatening. I know not to smile too much or too little and to let the adults lead the conversation”, I said, the word ‘adults’ dangling bitterly from me lips. “And not to walk ahead of you, but always behind, taking your lead.”

“You make it sound so stiff and calculated.”

“And I have taken time off of work to be here.” I said. “All other Junior Associates are working overtime and through weekends to cash in as many billable hours as possible to be promoted to Full-time Associates, and instead I took off four days to travel with my dad.”

“Work, for work!”

“So, again, what do you want? How else am I not meeting your expectations?”

I spoke calmly, gently, and as low a volume as I could just to confront his joke not a minute before about how if I didn’t scream the others wouldn’t hear us. I made sure to be as poised and contained as I could. He heaved a sigh.

“I’m sorry you had to take time off work.” 

I waited, as he stared in his usual lovingly, patient way. I smiled, more as a peace offering than genuinely. 

“You know very well they won’t fire you.”

Still, I was quiet, smiling as sincerely as I could. 

“And I know that isn’t fair, but there’s nothing I can do about it. So tell me something I can do and I will.”

“Okay.” I said, nodding. “I want your honesty. Don’t treat me like a child you need to protect, don’t patronize me. All I want is an honest answer.”

He adjusted himself in his seat and cleared his throat. “Alright. Go on.”

“Why am I here, papa?”

He blinked, seemingly confused. I could tell he expected a harder question.

“Your- Because your mother sprained her ankle?” he answered, still unsure. “What- do you mean philosophically? Why are any of us here, really? I don’t understand.”

I tried not to smile. “I mean I have a life. I am not your heir. Louis is your heir, it is his job to help you when mom has emergencies.”

He sighed deeply, finally arriving at the same page where I was.

“Your brother is in school.” He said. “And you are our oldest child. So, I’m sorry if it disrupts your life, Maggie. But you are needed.”

“And after school?” I asked “His graduation is in 6 months. Are you telling me that after he graduates university and moves back home, when he is starting his career, maybe moving to the capital, when you and mom have an emergency, you will call him up instead of me?”

He gave the table a sad smile. “If that is your wish, yes.”

“So that’s all, then?” I confirmed, suspiciously. “He moves back after graduation and you will give me the space I need?”

He smiled. “Is that what you want, then?” it wasn’t a confirmation. It was a tone of accomplishment. Of finally realizing what was it that I wanted, as if this entire conversation that’s what he had been trying to find out.

“I went to school for years. I interned for a year. I studied hard for the bar exams in America and Savoy. Yes, dad, I want to use the degree I worked hard for.”

“Okay, then. We will give you space.” He said. “Space from us, to be who you want to be. To be normal.”

I rolled my eyes, smiling, slightly amused at his dramatics. “That is not what I meant.”

“But it is accurate.”

“Papa...” I sighed.

“I’m just saying, sweetheart, I understand.” He insisted. “It’s why you went to America for University, it’s why you are based on the capital now. As long as you’re too close to us, you can’t live a normal life.”

“I can never live a normal life. We are not normal.”

“But you wish to try.”

I chuckled. “How?! You said it yourself, they will never fire me. My firm, I mean. Wherever I am, I am never just me and my degree and my career. People look at me and see you, as if I am you. I am their King. I am the Royal Family of Savoy. They’ll never take me seriously or afford me the same opportunities as everyone, because I am not everyone.”

He nodded, slowly, then sighed. “Yikes. You’re right. That sounds tough.”

“And I’m the passive aggressive one?”

“Job security and the attention of your bosses. That sounds awful.”

“Papa...”

“You want the space to dedicate yourself to your career without us pulling you away for royal work. Is that it? Okay. You got it. As soon as your brother is back from University, I will make sure you’re only needed for official events, and only if you’re not working.” 

He sounded serious now. Sincere as when he delivered the End of Year address every Christmas, which was meaningful. Getting dad to afford me the same seriousness he afforded his subjects was as much seriousness as I could get from him. Still, there was no mistaking the sadness in his eyes. 

“Even before his affirmation ceremony?” I asked, trying to sniff around for a trick.

The affirmation ceremony was meant to make clear to the country that an heir to throne had the seal of approval of the Monarch, and it usually happened when the heir was 21 years of age, to signify the Monarch believed in the event of a tragedy, the heir was ready to rule.  In modern times, it meant an heir was ready to start working as a full-time royal. Though my brother was 22, the family had decided to wait until he had graduated university to do his ceremony. 

Dad took longer than I wished, but finally, he nodded. “Yes. I promise.”

If you’re paying attention, then you might have noticed the math doesn’t add up. How come my 22 years-old brother is the heir when I said I am 25, the oldest child? Well, as with most fairytales, as well as with most of life, the problem is the patriarchy. For the thing is, though I was older than Louis by three years, because I was born a girl, he became the heir when he was born. So, at three, I went from future-Queen to lower ranking older sister. 

It wasn’t unusual, my father himself had two older sisters who were lower than him and his brothers in the line of succession. As a result we had older cousins who we outranked. I cared about all this at 25 the same as when I was 3: not at all. 

Absolute primogeniture law was passed in Savoy when I was 5, propelled by my birth and the new times. It was, however, not retroactive. This meant the law was changed for future births, not past ones, so all girls born after the law came into effect would be heirs in their own right, no matter how many brothers they got after, and all girls born before would go into history as having missed it by ‘just a bit’.

Louis and I, though, didn’t sit around having long discussions about who would be a better ruler. There has never been an instance in which we were arguing and I yelled something like, “first you stole my throne and now you stole my cookies! I hate you!”. For us this was just a little footnote in the family tree. A little fun fact to tell our future kids one day. And although I couldn’t remember what it felt like, I always knew it was much better not having to be the Crown Princess of Savoy.

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

When we finally reached Penzance, the small town in the tip of the isle of England where sat the second Eurostar station, I was able to finally connect to the internet. My father left our train car to walk about with his security because he wanted to witness the new English policy of installing a check-point at the entry due to the immigrant crisis – a huge part of why we were there. While he did that, I sent Sophie my notes on the deposition, and answered some messages.

There was one from Louis, my aforementioned brother:

‘are you close?’

And one from our baby sister, Lourdes:

‘what do you think??!!!!!!!!’, with an attachment of two videos.

And, lastly, one from my mother, Her Majesty Queen Amelie-Elyse, back home with a sprained ankle.

‘Hope all is well! Let me know when you’re with your brother. Don’t forget to let your hair down before leaving the train!’

She didn’t mean it in a philosophical, have fun kind of way. She literally meant let my hair down, apparently it softened my features. 

I replied to her with a selfie, with my hair properly brushed and down, in preparation for the arrival in London, which was close now. Let Louis know we were almost there. And sent a quick, uncommitted ‘woah!’ to my sister, without opening her attachments. They were always the same: videos of her practicing. There was only so much ice skating I could watch in a lifetime.

My mom answered my text with, “why did you change your dress?!”

I sighed, getting ready to justify this decision as well, already anticipating she would argue that the fascinator wouldn’t go with this one dress, so I told her I already had another fascinator standing by. 

Growing up with fairytales they don’t tell you about the little annoying details. Characters who are annoying usually are the villains, the ones the Princess escapes from, usually saved by the prince. They don’t tell you sometimes, actually a lot of the times, the people you love can be equally as annoying. 

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

When we arrived at the station in London, I was already wearing my disc fascinator in a light shade of blue matching both my lace dress, this time reaching all the way to my ankles, and eyes. We were quickly greeted by the Savoyen Ambassador to England in front of the press, and escorted into government cars towards Whitehall. 

The large parade ground was a traditional courtyard in central London that usually housed ceremonies related to the military and the royal family. When we arrived, the day finally was washed in a feeling of ceremony. 

The place was lined neatly with military guards, security barricades and the Scotland Yard Police kept watchers and paparazzi at bay, the press lined up inside to have the best view of all involved. As we arrived, the traditional 41 gun salute was already sounding on. A military band was playing. People waved and yelled hello as we drove inside. I suddenly knew what to do, as if my body had the gene for it. This was one thing that was definitely genetic.

I stepped out of the car delicately, smoothly, knees together like a proper lady, polite smile on my lips in thanks to the guard who saluted as I left. My father greeted a handler who escorted us to the front of all the lined guards, where three structures had been set up: one large one in the middle, with a red-carpeted stage and a large roof, the British Royal Coat of Arms in the center with the British flag to its right and the Savoy flag to its left. Decorative flowers and elegant plants here and there. Two smaller, simpler structures to both of its sides. Inside all of them, men and women in formal suits and ties and knee-length, appropriate dresses and hats. 

We walked the grovel path to the larger structure as the band played and the press, lined up in front of this platform, took their photographs. My father climbed the steps first, quickly being received by the small, elder, lady in a lavender overcoat and matching hat, impressive set of pearls dangling from her neck. She smiled as he lowered himself down to kiss both her cheeks warmly. 

The queen then looked at me and I approached, just as our handler told Her Majesty:

“And may I present, Her Royal Highness, Princess Marie-Margueritte of Savoy.”

I lowered myself in a curtsy, and as she extended her hands to hold mine, I also kissed her cheeks, trying to avoid knocking her hat with mine. 

“Welcome.” She smiled. “I hope the ride was forgiving.”

“Very comfortable.” My father told her. “Always surprising how fast it is.”

“Yes. You’ll remember, I’m sure, the Prince of Wales.” She said, walking us to the center of the platform where another two men awaited.

My father and the Prince of Wales greeted each other warmly, they were more used to running in the same circles – royal weddings here and there, international summits and meetings, or whatever it is they do. 

“We’re so glad to have you.” He told my father. 

“I don’t know if you’ve met my daughter, Princess Marie-Margueritte.”

Smiling, I curtsied to the Prince of Wales as he held my hand, before kissing my cheeks. 

“You brighten this day, Your Royal Highness.” He told me, before stepping closer to add, in a whisper. “Sorry you have been dragged to this.”

I giggled, “I’m happy to be here, sir.”

Straightening up, he noticed my father was already greeting the man behind him. “Hopefully we won’t bore you too much. I have tried to bring someone else closer to your age. Have you met my son?”

The handler didn’t know it, but there were no introductions necessary. And yet, all I could do was smile politely as we were introduced to:

“His Royal Highness, Prince Harry of Wales.”

I wondered, for a moment, if he would acknowledge that we already knew each other. 

“It’s a pleasure, Your Royal Highness.” Holding my hand in his, he brought my knuckles to his lips. 

The answer was, obviously, no. So I lowered myself again in a curtsy as an excuse to avert my eyes from his.

I couldn’t understand why, but I had been unprepared for him. With all of Auguste’s preparation, all the briefings, with all the preachings about my appearance, no one had prepared me for him. I don’t know if it was that, like me, he was one of the youngest there, or how absurdly, almost ridiculously tall he was, or maybe how the blue in his eyes contrasted with the red of his hair, but he just… stunned me. When he kissed my hand, his eyes traveled down my legs all the way back to pierce mine, igniting a wave of electricity down my spine I was unable to control. 

He leaned back, and there we stood, hand in hand, wordlessly. 

“You can follow the King, ma’am.” Auguste whispered behind me, his voice making me jump slightly, as I quickly pulled my hand from Harry’s, not before realizing he had something scribbled on his palm.

My father and the Queen were deep in conversation, with Charles besides them, as they reached the center of the platform to watch the guards. The Queen in the middle, my father to her right, and the Prince of Wales to her left, I walked forward to stand beside my father, while Prince Harry walked to his. 

We waited just a moment, and then the band started playing the Savoy National Anthem, and the British Anthem after it. A few words said, more ceremony here and there, and the Prince Wales formally invited my father to inspect the Guards, so they left together, accompanied by one of the military leaders to walk among the rolls of guards,  as the three of us stood behind to watch.

“I was sorry to hear about your mother, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” I said, looking regretful, walking towards her, closing the gap left behind by the others. “She was sorry she couldn’t be here.”

“I hope it’s nothing serious.” Prince Harry interjected.

“A sprained ankle.” I explained, looking ahead. 

“Harry is also here after a small hiccup with the Duchess of Cornwall, my daughter-in-law.” His grandmother told me. “An illness in her family, nothing serious.”

“Hopefully I’ll have time to meet her before we leave.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” She nodded. “How did you mother hurt herself?”

“Horse fall. She was never very fond of Polo, I’m afraid this will drive her further away from it.”

“Oh, that is regretful.” The Queen said. 

Harry looked at me. “Do you play?” 

“I do, sir.” 

“Harry is very good,” his grandmother told me, “he will be the one playing with you in the charity match in the coming days.”

“I look forward to-“, I started, but Harry had started the exact same sentence. We locked eyes, and chuckled.

“You first.” I said.

“Please, I insist.” He responded, cheeks reddening.

His grandmother looked between us, and then back to the uniformed men in front. She then said, in a low tone, something I would spend a large part of the upcoming months thinking obsessively about:

“Be careful with him... He will charm you, but he is a heartbreaker.”

The words astonished me so much I looked at her, unsure she had actually said them. But she had, clearly, because Harry was also looking at her, quite shocked.

“Granny!” he complained, in such a whiny tone I broke into laughter.

“Do I lie?” She asked him, grinning. It only made him look more shocked. 

“Don’t ruin my reputation in front of foreign royals!” he said, in a low tone, before looking at me. “Specially such pretty ones.”

My giggle froze in my throat under his intense glare, and I could feel my cheeks reddening.

The Queen looked at me. “Oh, you’re blushing. It’s too late, I see.”

It was.

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

Margueritte’s outfit

The ask box is open! Let me know your thoughts? And if at all possible, like this page so I know you liked it? Thank you so much!

[A/N: Attention: by continuing to read you are accepting that some sad stuff is coming. You been warned. Thanks for checking this out! Let me know your thoughts?? thanks!!!!]

[A/N2: Hey! Nat here. I wanted to talk a little more about the story we are about to go on together.

In the upcoming chapters you will be introduced to the Royal Family of Savoy, a fictitious European country right below the UK, to left of France. When I first posted a fanfiction, FIUYMI, I made the main character latina, since that’s what I am, and I had previously felt that I couldn’t relate to other characters I had read. In this one, however, I decided I wanted to write about a fictitious monarchy, and I knew I wanted to make it as realistic as possible. 

As much as I wanted at many points in the story to make the character look more like me, the idea felt like cheating: Margueritte is a blood royal, born to a life of specific privileges and hardships, and pretending she could look like the type of people who don’t have white privilege would be trying to ignore a very real issue: all monarchies - past and present - existed, lasted and gathered riches on the back of people of color. Most of their descendants still carry white and wealth privilege because these royal families, however many years ago, supported and perpetuated colonialism and white supremacy that left countless countries and their populations still recovering today.

That is a legacy Margueritte didn’t chose, and which she also doesn’t have to face, but in this story she will chose too. As you’ll see, she finds herself in a much more influential position she thought she would have, and as such she realizes she has two options: she can stick to the message her family - and other royal families - have perpetuated for generations and keep her head high, mouth and ears shut, so their legacy can survive; or she can chose to be a modern Queen who will make the institution relevant again. I want to write about this because this issue is important for the times we live in, particularly after the way the Duchess of Sussex was treated in the United Kingdom.

What that will look like will depend on who Margueritte is as a person and whose advice she takes, and that is a journey I hope you’ll take with us =) ]

[matildainmotion]

My Cure for the Blues, thanks to my Daughter who Loves Pink: What Might Yours Be?

I am blue. I don’t know why. There are many blatant reasons for blueness in the world right now - more than there have ever been in my lifetime - yet still I don’t know why. If I did I wouldn’t be blue. I would be sad with purpose. Or angry. Or upset. But what I have is a slightly pointless feeling. Being blue is vague. Vaguely low. A big wash of a dark colour, devoid of detail.

Meanwhile my four year old daughter is definitely not blue - she’s pink. “What’s your favourite colour today?” She asks, everyday. I find it a hard question to answer with accuracy, perhaps because of my vague blue feeling. She does not: “What’s yours?” I say. “Pink,” she replies with absolute certainty, “And gold.” Another favourite question of hers, that she poses most evenings at supper: “What are you the fairy of?” The grown-ups round the table come up with various quips in answer: Daddy is the fairy of mashed potato; Granny is the fairy of hearing aids; Mummy is the fairy of tiredness. 

“And you, Tenar?” 

“I’m the fairy of beauty, sparkly things and everything I like,” she replies, while skipping up and down beside the dinner table, because the fairy of beauty is much too busy to pay any heed to the fairy of meal time manners. Her favourite Christmas present was a gold princess gown, which she dons daily, and Snow White-like, checks in the mirror to see if she looks suitably fair. She wants to grow her hair down to just above her bottom. 

This all comes as rather a shock to me because I was not a pink girl - my favourite colour as a child was navy blue, no pastels please. I refused to wear dresses. I had a party boiler suit- dark blue - for birthdays. I climbed trees, ran along garden walls and lived in trousers. I was inconsolable when my father once brought me back a kilt as a present from a trip to Scotland - imagine being given a skirt! Despite being told this was a skirt meant for men, despite the photos in the family photo drawer of my father, a proud soldier in a Black Watch regiment kilt, I remained unconvinced. I have stayed relatively consistent in my tom-boyness into adult life. As a mother my children rarely see me in dresses, hardly ever in make up. Mummy has long hair under her armpits and on her legs but often shaves her head.

Given the version of womanhood I have presented to my daughter, I assumed  her predilection for pink princesses was a result of the vicious marketing to which children, especially girls, are subjected - the bright pink magazines with plastic toy lipsticks and hair curlers sellotaped onto the front, placed at just her height on the wracks near the supermarket check out. This is just one example of the many things about the world that make me blue so, when her pink princess phase began, I set to work. 

I had already consistently switched pronouns around in books - mostly from he to she - or had discussions with my daughter about the absence of active female heroines.  More recently, her questions such as “Why is it girls that have long hair?” Or, “Which one of these princesses is the most beautiful?” lead to long discussions about the history of fashion, gender as a colourful spectrum, and how peacocks are just one example of a species in which it is the boy that gets to wear the gorgeous feathers. None of this seems to make the slightest difference to my daughter’s commitment to pink, but two developments recently have eased my concerns and made me think that there is more than 21st Century patriarchal capitalism at work in her choices, and that the pink thing - or the thing for pink -that is sustaining her spirits through this hard time might actually contain within it a clue to the medicine I need for my blues.  

Firstly, last weekend, after a day on which I had had to work and so had resorted to letting Tenar watch Disney’s Cinderella (the 1950 animation) she ran back and forth during supper and told us her version of the story. In her rendition, she played the part of the fairy godmother, and having magically rustled up a stunning dress for Cinderella, she thought she should be the one who got to enjoy it. So it was she, the fairy godmother, who danced the night away with Cinders. And what of the prince? No princess for him - he was left with a slice of pizza. After three nights of dancing together, Cinderella married Tenar, the fairy godmother, and they lived together happily ever after, with an ever-expanding wardrobe of fabulous dresses. The prince married the pizza, and was, apparently, content with his lot. 

I was reassured by this that my daughter is in no way either a passive consumer of pink-ness or likely to become an easy victim of social norms. Soon after marrying Cinderella, she came up with the second thing which allayed my concerns, and made me question my fast feminist assumptions as to what is at work in her psyche. She announced, seemingly out of the blue (that colour again), that one day she wants to acquire a white, calm, mare.  

We have some chickens, but on the whole we are not an animal-focussed family. No cats. No dogs. Certainly nothing as large and demanding as a horse. My daughter accepts the fact that owning a horse is a big deal - you need a stable, a meadow, and various other bits of kit, so she is going to be patient - not a quality that comes to her easily - and wait, but it is important that she gets the mare when she is still young, she says, by the time she is twelve. By then her hair should have grown to her full desired length and both she and the white mare can ride over the fields with their locks streaming behind them. She is also keen on a cart to go with it, which will, she says, make shopping much easier and less boring. She will look after it very well: she will dress it in garlands of flowers, feed it hay and apples and exercise it daily. Its stable will be right beside the pink, gold and violet-painted bedroom of her own, into which she will also have moved by the time she turns twelve.  

I am not entirely sure from where this horse has ridden into her mind. She has a sticker book of white unicorns, but much of the dream seems to be of her own invention. I am not about to surrender to an essentialist narrative and suggest that all little girls harbour a horsey dream - how could I when I myself never have?- but it has touched me, this sudden passion for a white horse, the oddly mature way in which she discusses the details of it, and it makes me think there is more than magazine marketing at work in her.  

My husband plays Tenar the theme tune to White Horses, the 1960s TV series, whilst I remember all the stories I know that feature a woman and a horse. One of my favourite Ted Hughes’ tales concerns the first woman complaining to God that she is bored - she wants a playmate. After trying out various creations and getting it horribly wrong, God finally gets it right when, out of the crests of the waves, he conjures a horse, who rides ashore to greet the waiting woman. Going further back in time, there are the tales of Epona and Rhiannon, Celtic horse goddesses which I know of thanks to mother-maker, Jackie Singer, who made a brilliant show about them that explored women’s power and sexuality - both its repression and liberation. Rhiannon in particular, who can outride any man with ease, is no passive princess. Whilst the image of a girl dressed in pink is no more than eighty years old, the image of a woman riding a horse is clearly a good deal older. However, irrespective of age (simply using the fact that something has been around for a long time is a highly dubious reason for justifying it - patriarchy, for example, is ancient!) it seems to me, listening to Tenar, that she has somehow tapped into an image-geyser - it has sprung up mysteriously, and with tremendous energy. It feeds her.  Life is tough, we are confined in a tiny house, while we try to stay well, stay sane, shield Granny, but my daughter is buoyant, not blue, because she is dreaming of horses- I need some of what she’s got.  

But I never dreamt of horses. They don’t do it for me. I think back to when I loved navy blue and try to recall what else I was dreaming of then. What made me run around the kitchen table with delight like my daughter does? And then the answer comes: I wanted a meadow too, but not for a horse. I wanted a cabin in one corner - I was going to run across the meadow, barefoot, marvel at the wonder of the world and then head into my cabin and write. I didn’t want to be a princess, I wanted to be a poet. With the same passion, the same weird mix of realism and fantasy as I see in my daughter and her horse ambitions, I made plans for my poetry cabin. I remembered this when I watched the amazing Amanda Gorman, not dressed in pink or blue but brightest yellow, reciting at Biden’s inauguration - a young poet woman warrior. I can feel it does me good to summon up this archetype, this image. It starts, slowly, to dispel the blue. It’s a dose of a meaning-of-life medicine, the first iteration of it that I ever brewed for myself and so, because of this, it still holds a certain potency. As Victor Frankl argues in his classic Man’s Search for Meaning a sense of purpose, of meaning, is what we (man, woman, or betwixt and between) need to survive the hardest times - a holocaust, a global pandemic, or, closer to home, just a tough day of schooling with the kids. 

So, here are your questions for the month - actually a mix of my daughter’s questions and mine:

What is your favourite colour today? What are you the fairy of? What do or did your children, if you have them, dream of? And what were your own childhood dreams? And can your answers to these questions change the colour of your days?

As I type this, Tenar is sitting on my lap, and she has asked for the last word. I have said she can dictate and I will type. Over to Tenar, then, to finish this off:

“I ask my mum so many questions that I feel in my body and I say my heart is the thing that controls my feelings. I ask every night to my mum, why she was a tom boy? And I say that I love you as much as I am going to love everything around me, and I love my heart, and my horse. And I am a girlie girl, not like my mummy.  I love princesses, I say, every night.”

[epic-summaries]

Herakles, Destructo-Boi

I see people complain about Classical Mythology and the terrible things the heroes did, even if technically it’s not terrible (coughPerseuscough). Let’s add to the discourse with everyone’s favourite Jerkules! I mean Herakles.

These eyes are the eyes of a monster.

I’m going to complain specifically about Herakles’ city sacking fetish. Once fine, he was still high on that Hera crazy juice. Twice, I’m starting to get worried but the ruler was an asshole. Thrice, ummmm. The fourth time you sack a city I’m calling it a fetish. Now, one man armies aren’t anything new to Ancient Mediterranean mythologies. The other most famous example would be Samson defeating the Philistine army with a donkey jawbone. But as per usual, this is Herakles and Herakles is extreme! He can’t just do everything better than everyone else, but he has to be a thousand times better than everyone else (or else he will kill you coughLinushismusicteachercough).

Elis

So, the twelve labours. It’s a thing Herakles has to do and labour number five is the cleaning of Augeas’ stables (oh who is King of Elis). And this is not the one with the carnivores mares (In the OG Percy Jackson series in book 4, this labour and the labour with the Mares of Diomedes are fused together). This is the stable with the heavenly cattle from Helios that produces a massive amount of dung (for reason? I think Helios finds it funny when he looks down from his chariot because I have no other explanation for this). In this labour, Herakles reroutes a couple of rivers and wow it’s like oxyclean! Sparkly clean stables. But wait, there’s more, the labour is actually considered a foul because Jerkules did not do that work but the rivers did. (Herakles is meant to have ten labour but due to this being discounted and Lerna Hydra being discounted do to him using his sidekick, it became twelve.)

Herakles is pissed that his labour was discounted. This is the second time this happens! And it’s not like Herakles is trying to learn humility and get forgiveness for going into a murderous rage and killing his family. So, Herakles goes into a murderous rage and sacks the city of Elis.

Ormenium

So, Herakles has himself a reputation for being hated by Hera and for destroying cities. Image each time this asshole leaves a city, he leaves it in the same state as Metropolis at the end Man of Steel. Or this:

It’s not a surprise that people don’t want him in their cities. But Herakles wants to go through Ormenium. Amyntor, the King, is like nope, go away. One does not say no to Herakles. So, he sacks the city for daring to say no. Then horndog here fathers a child with the Queen. It was a damned if you do, damned if you don’t kind of situation.

This isn’t the traditional telling of this story, usually he just kills Amyntor and not most of the town, but it is a version I have heard, so I have added it.

Actual response people had when they saw Herakles walking up to their city.

Troy

HOW MANY GODDAMN TIMES DOES THIS CITY NEEDS TO BE SACKED?! But Herakles can’t miss out on the most famous story of Greek Mythology. But it doesn’t match the timeline? (Now they care about a timeline!) So, let’s make One-Man-Mongol-Army sack Troy before the more infamous sack of Troy. Guys you’re making the Achaeans’ awesome feat seem way less impressive. Like, Achilles how can’t you sack Troy? Herakles did it by himself a generation ago! You guys are pathetic. SMH.

Anyway, what excuse did the Greek give for Herakles to sack this wonderous city? (I know there’s mentions in the Iliad of Herakles sacking the city). Long story short, Poseidon is pissed at the city for reasons that we will not go into here. So, Laomedon (Priam’s father, so Hector and Paris’ grandfather) does an Agamemnon before Agamemnon was born, and decides to sacrifice his daughter, Hesione, to appease a god. But before that can happen Herakles pops up out of nowhere and is like I’ll kill the monster crab for you! But wait, there’s more, he’s not going to do this for free. Oh no, he wants the magical horse Zeus gave the city when he kidnapped Ganymede (because the proper replacement for a person is a magical horse?). Laomedon is like sure. So, Herakles slays the monster. Laomedon does the faithful mistake and says well maybe we want to keep the horse. Did no one learn from Minos and the White Bull?

Anyway, Herakles sacks the city, with a couple of friends. Kills the entire royal family minus Priam because Priam gave Herakles a golden veil made by Hesione (so he likes shiny things). Hesione is taken away and forced to marry Telamon and thus Teucer is born. Um, so Hesione’s life sucks.

Proud father Zeus watching this from Olympus.

Oechalia

So, we all remember that time Hera drove Herakles crazy and forced him to terrrifyingly murder his wife and children? Right? Well the people of Herakles’ time certainly did not forget. Because who can forget that? So, even remembering this, this story is still messed up.

This is how it starts, Herakles sees the Princess Iole and goes me horny (I see the apple didn’t fall far from the Olympian tree). He finds out to marry the princess he must beat her dad, King Eurytus, in an archery contest. Eurytus here is one of the best archers in all of Greece, but he’s about to go against Herakles and anything you can do, Herakles can do better.

Herakles enters the competition and to no one but King Eurytus’ surprise Herakles looks like he is going to win. So, King Eurytus very much not wanting second most famous wife killer after Henry VIII, Herakles, as a son-in-law, stops the competitions. We’ve learned by now, no one tells Herakles no. Iphitos, Eurytus’s son, Argonaut and Herakles’ friend, asks his dad to reconsider. King Eurytus is in a pickle, let Jerkules here take his daughter and possibly murder her, or say no and suffer other conquences? A real Sophie’s Choice here. But then one of the King’s mares is stolen and Iophitos asks Herakles to get her back. Herakles of course does this, because he is such a great guy, then drinks some Hera crazy juice (allegedly) and throws Iphitos over the walls of Oechalia. He’s dead, very much dead. And King Eurytus says, naw, I’m not going to let you marry my daughter.

Then, Herakles meets Deianira (aka wife number three) and King Eurytus must think he’s safe. No. You are never safe from Destructo-Boi! Because Herakles can never let anything go, he comes back and sacks the city and kills all the males in the royal family. Ioles, who btw does not have the hots for ultimate Chad, Herakles (understandably), tries to jump off the walls of the city. But wait, her clothes are secretly a parachute (for some reason in a world full of monsters and magic, the most unbelievable thing to me is that a woman’s clothes turns into a parachute), and she lands perfectly fine. Herakles rapes her and keeps her as a ”paramour” (people call it was it is, she’s his sex salve).

Me punching Herakles for being an asshole.

Then, Herakles is killed by his wife, but that’s a post for a different day. Also, Herakles had to become Omphale’s salve for the murder of Iphitos, which I would like to ask, does Herakles ever get punish for things he actual does or for only things when he’s under the influence of Hera’s crazy juice? Because I’m pretty sure going all Danearys on a town on your own free will is punishable, but apparently I am wrong.

That random voice in Disney’s Hercules was right, Destructo-Boi should be his super-hero name.

[starberry-cupcake]

Disney Concert in Teatro Colón

You folks I cried my eyes out today. The thing hadn’t even started, Donald came out from a theater box dressed in a tuxedo to say hi and I started crying. I was expecting an orchestra and a movie screen and knew I was gonna cry anyway but by the second song, Aladdin and Jasmine were suspended midair in a flying carpet over the entire orchestra and I knew I was in for a journey. By the time the intermission came in, I was bawling and a guy who was recording the crowd for a promotional video was right next to me filming and I was there crying like a baby in the potential promotional video. But anyway, I’m gonna share a bit of a summary, the setlist, descriptions and some pictures (taken when it was allowed to take them) and a bit of an explanation of what this concert was and how it came to be, even if just for my own safekeeping. 

This is a collaboration between Disney Concerts (the part of Disney Music Group which works with licences and promotion for different type of worldwide concert productions, like the symphonic Star Wars concerts or the special orchestra editions of movie releases and so on) and Teatro Colón, their orchestra and conductor (Enrique Arturo Diemecke), their dancers and choreographers, and some stage musical performers and other folk who were brought in for this specific thing (I recognized at least 4 ensemble members from having seen them in local productions of musicals like Bare, Pleybill and Phantom). 

I thought it was going to be like those movie editions which have a screen and the orchestra. It was enough to want me to see it and know for sure I was going to cry, but it ended up having on stage performances with effects, costumes, face characters, beautiful scenery and puppetry. 

Before the show began, Donald, Goofy and Pluto came out from boxes on the sides of the stage to say hi to the audience and once it began Mickey and Minnie also joined. All the fab 5 had costume changes, Mickey was the one to have most of them. 

The setlist was as follows: 

Act I (52 minutes)

Overture (Bob Hilliard/Jimmie Dodd/Sammy Cahn/Al Hoffman/Jerry Livingston/Allie Wrubel/Sammy Fain/Mack David/Ray Gilbert/Richard Sherman/Robert Sherman)

This was a great medley with a lot of things I won’t fully remember but you can guess by the composers listed. It included Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, The Mickey Mouse March, various Cinderella songs (I teared up there), Peter Pan’s You Can Fly!x3, Small World and a Mary Poppins medley, among others. I loved that one of the kids next to me shouted more for Mary Poppins than for any other movie in the entire concert, he was so excited when Chim Chim Cher-ee started. I mean, same. Also in the end there was a Walt quote with his photo and I was crying once more. 

Aladdin

Friend Like Me (Howard Ashman/Alan Menken)

This was sang by 3 singers rather than only one and had a very big choreography including pyrotechnics, ensemble singers, dancers and a lot of props. 

A Whole New World (Howard Ashman/Alan Menken)

I already mentioned it but there was an actual carpet suspended over the orchestra which flew around the stage with Aladdin and Jasmine as they sang this one, with the movie background on a double screen. It was pretty magical. 

The Princess and the Frog

Down in New Orleans (Randy Newman)

I loved how this song was performed but I was confused by Tiana’s costumes in both songs, this one had an entire ensemble singing as well, with props and really nice costumes. 

Almost There (Randy Newman)

Tiana had a costume change but I still didn’t quite understand it because they didn’t match the movie ones. I mean, they were appropriate for the time period, but not quite like any of hers. Maybe they changed the palette because of staging reasons idk. She didn’t have the dress from the parks either, maybe because it isn’t very comfortable for dancing. In any case, Tiana had a great voice and this song isn’t easy to keep up with but she did great. 

Fantasia

The Sorcerer’s Apprentice (Paul Dukas)

This was just the orchestra with the movie sequence, without any actors until the very end, which I appreciated because I wanted to see the orchestra performing a segment I have so vividly in my mind I can hear it in my head and see what each instrument was doing. Kids got scared because who didn’t get scared with Fantasia as a kid. In the last bit, Mickey came in with his red robe and the two buckets and it was adorable. 

Beauty and the Beast

Be Our Guest (Howard Ashman/Alan Menken)

Lumiere had a similar outfit to the Broadway production and, like in the Broadway production, was one of the only characters, aside from the fab 5, to interact with the audience. Lumiere is always a good MC. The performance was also similar to the Broadway one but scaled down for the occasion, it was like a simplified version of that one, in a way. 

Beauty and the Beast (Howard Ashman/Alan Menken)

The entire audience audibly gasped when Belle and the Beast came in. The performance was based on the Celine Dion/Peabo Bryson version instead of the movie one, so there were two singers instead of one, all dressed in period attire and Belle’s dress was more sparkly than her usual, to glimmer under the lights of the theater. It was so magical. 

Sleeping Beauty

Sleeping Beauty Medley (Piotr Tchaikovsky)

This was a medley that involved some of the ballet music, including Once Upon A Dream and I Wonder. There were no singers and a couple of ballet dancers in their classic attires for this ballet rather than characterized as in the movie, which is something I’ll mention again later. It was very beautifully performed. 

Mulan

Reflection (David Zippel/Matthew Wilder)

The performance was based on the pop single more so on the movie version, much like with Beauty and the Beast and not like in Aladdin where they kept the movie one. I assume this had to do with length, since it was the only Mulan song featured, so they went with the longer version. There was some choreography and an ensemble together with her on stage. 

Pirates of the Caribbean

Pirates of the Caribbean Medley (Klaus Badelt/Geoffrey Zanelli/Ramin Djawadi/James Dooley/Hans Zimmer/Sreve Jablonsky)

Well, this was inescapable. It’s not the first thing I think of when I think “Disney concert” but the music is good and it appeals to a big audience and the performance was pretty epic, so it’s ok. The sequences didn’t showcase actors specifically much, it was more an edited track with action and scenes along with the tempo of the music, which was cool. I have to admit I got kind of focused on the fact that as this was going, they were setting up the props for the next segment, which I was looking forward to. 

Moana

Tulou Tagaloa (Opetaia Tavita Foa’i)

There were several effects in the Moana segment and it started with one third of the stage, which had been lowered, coming back up with someone starting to sing, then the opposite third also came up, with the middle of the stage still “submerged” in the ocean. 

How Far I’ll Go (Lin Manuel Miranda)

Moana came in from beside the orchestra and she moved across the stage with the boat still submerged in the ocean. This part made me weep, I’m not even gonna lie. Moana’s outfit wasn’t exactly like the one in the parks but wasn’t as far off as Tiana’s, it was a bit of a blend. This was one of my favorite performances overall. 

We Know The Way (Lin Manuel Miranda/Opetaia Tavita Foa’i)

If the first two parts of the Moana segment made me weep, here I was outright crying. The ocean rose to the shore with several dancers and performers, a part of which used a sheet and movements to lift Moana’s boat and carry it to her, it looked amazingly impressive. 

Intermission (20 minutes)

Act II (43 minutes)

Fantasia 2000

The Firebird Suite (Igor Stravinsky)

This one, much like the segment from the first Fantasia, was just the screen with the animation accompanied by the orchestra. I was surprised they’d include something from Fantasia 2000 but given that there were a good amount of classics included, this one was a good choice with the animation being one of the most well-remembered of Fantasia 2000. It didn’t give me the chills The Sorcerer’s Apprentice did though. 

Hercules

Zero to Hero (David Zippel/Alan Menken)

BOY OH BOY I LOVED THIS ONE. The Muses were great, there was a chorus of ladies and they danced and everything was beautiful. The Muses were on the lower stage in pillars posing as statues and as the music started, the stage came up and they started dancing. Before the song began the orchestra did the intro for the movie with the scene of Olympus and a bit of Go The Distance. 

A Star Is Born (David Zippel/Alan Menken)

PEOPLE WERE SO INTO THIS ONE. The little girl in front of me was dancing so much and I don’t think she even saw Hercules at all because she didn’t know who they were but she was so into it and I’m glad, Hercules deserves more love. These ladies brought the house down in two songs, it was epic. 

Tangled

When Will My Life Begin & Reprise (Glenn Slater/Alan Menken)

Rapunzel came in on a gorgeous piece of scenery painted like her room with props and stairs and the Claire Keane painting and at least 3 grown ups around me sighed when they saw her and I started weeping again. This was the point when I realized I know most of these songs in two languages by heart and I sang along all the Tangled songs in Spanish too. Rapunzel was gorgeous, her outfit was just like in the parks, as was her hair, and her voice was so good. She sang both the original and the first reprise back to back. 

I’ve Got A Dream (Glenn Slater/Alan Menken)

The stage that was lowered came up again with a good bunch of the pub thugs with the Snuggly Duckling on the screen behind. Some where doing pirouettes and it was impressive. Then there were even more thugs coming in and Eugene entered a bit later, when everyone was singing. The crowd noticed, let me assure you. He sang his bit and then Rapunzel did hers and when the song was done, the thugs said goodbye and left them along to sing the last part. 

I See The Light (Glenn Slater/Alan Menken)

OH BOY THIS. I LOST IT AT THIS. The moment Eugene brought out the lantern, the entire theater illuminated faintly with lights and there were projectors with the Corona sun lighting up the ceiling. Now, for context, let me show you some picture of the theater. 

Imagine those lights faintly glowing with he rest of the lights out. Now look at this chandelier. 

Picture that chandelier with its multiple tiny yellow lights also glowing and the ceiling illuminated by corona suns. 

Everything while the stage there had Rapunzel and Eugene and one lit lantern in their hands. Amazing. The Tangled bit was the best bit and people loved it the most as well. 

The Nutcracker and the Four Realms

Waltz of the Flowers (Piotr Tchaikovsky) 

I personally think this was a bit of a cop out, in terms of song selection, people aren’t immediately thinking of Nutcracker when they think Disney, even if Helen Mirren is my goddess, but the performance allowed the kid dancers to perform and they were so good I can’t complain. They were adorable and the girl playing Clara was stellar. 

Tarzan

Two Worlds (Phil Collins)

So, these performances were a bit strange but I can’t complain because some of the ensemble members are performers I’ve been following for a while and I really like, so I’ll allow it. The group of singers were dressed in rock attire, I guess, not in any sort of Tarzan related clothes, maybe it was a take on making it more Phil Collins-y. 

You’ll Be In My Heart (Phil Collins)

This one was sang primarily by one lead singer and accompanied by the previous ensemble. Remember when I said the ballet dancers from Sleeping Beauty didn’t have their movie character costumes? There was a couple dancing to this song as the singer performed it and their costumes looked more like what I was expecting from Sleeping Beauty than from Tarzan (pink dress, red-ish vest, boots, you know the thing). I wonder (pun intended) what happened there. I attended the very first of 6 shows so maybe it was something that they’ll fix later. 

Son of Man (Phil Collins)

Ok so, here’s the thing. This song is my weakness. I love it. I know it in two languages and I sing it in both. I have an unreasonable amount of love for this song and it was performed so well and Pilar Muerza is one of my favorites and she nailed the song so I’m happy with this. 

Frozen

Do You Want To Build A Snowman? (Robert Lopez/Kristen Anderson-Lopez)

This was sung by only little Anna and it was more heartbreaking than the movie. Only the first two bits were performed and the “hang in there, Joan” bit was so cute. Little Anna did great. 

For the First Time In Forever (Robert Lopez/Kristen Anderson-Lopez)

This one was also just Anna’s bit, and here we had face character singer Anna, with her parks attire (not the coronation one, the other one). She was a good Anna, her energy was really great and she was accompanied by an ensemble to sing with and perform with on stage. 

Let It Go (Robert Lopez/Kristen Anderson-Lopez)

Instead of moving towards Elsa’s bit on the previous song, the medley changed to Let It Go, which was performed fully. I thought this was going to bring the house down but apparently Tangled and Hercules were the favorites over Elsa in this round. There wasn’t a dress change (I have not seen a single Elsa outfit and hair in any incarnation of Frozen by Disney I have liked, not in the parks, not on Broadway, not on UOAT, not On Ice, not here either). But, this Elsa could sing. She was one of the best singers of the day and the competition was tough. I’ve seen this song performed SO MANY TIMES and very rarely I see someone nailing it 100%, this girl did. There were snow effects and light effects but the Tangled effects had already spoiled us from the best of the best. 

The Lion King

The Circle of Life (Tim Rice/Elton John)

This was one of the favorites of the audience, hands down. It was a blend between the Broadway version, with some of the costumes, puppets and stilt performers, and halfway kid-friendly, with some more noticeable animal costumes, which were also very nice. There was a huge ensemble for this one, a kid chorus, the stage elevated again and a row of animals entered from the hallway and onto the stage. This was a huge performance. 

Finale

Fantasmic (Bruce Healey)

Am I the only one who cries when she hears the Fantasmic song? I cannot deal, I don’t know what is. Is it the idea that imagination defeats pain and sorrow? Is it that it brings you to a magical place where good is always stronger than evil? Is it Mickey? I don’t know, but Fantasmic, guys. In this one, the fab 5 were on stage all together, Pluto entered first, then Goofy, then Donald (who was the best, as usual), and then Minnie (who made a pirouette, in those shoes) and Mickey, who said goodbye and thanked the audience. Some of the face characters who had performed came in for a last bow and both Minnie and Mickey brought the conductor to the front of the stage and people clapped and gave a standing ovation. 

And that’s all, my experience crying my eyes out in a Disney symphonic concert. I missed having The Litter Mermaid and Snow White featured, but that’s ok. If anything, I wanted to keep this all in my blog for safekeeping, now that it’s fresh in my memories, because it was an amazing experience I want to keep forever. Also, Mickey told us to never give up on our dreams in the end and that also made me cry. 

[newyorkcitywater]

Questing Buddies!

Also known as Questing Buddies: The Musical! or simply Chapter 4. Long ass post, so it’s under the cut.

Gaudy, CJ, and M carefully approached the concert, which is to say that they tangoed dramatically until they reached the crowd of people waving their hands in the air, jumping and screaming in front of many, many signs that said “ETHAN THE LOUD.” Yes, everyone had roses in their teeth, and no, don’t ask me where the roses are coming from. I’m just the humble storyteller.

Ethan seemed to be hyping up the crowd violently, though from what they could see, he had no idea how rowdy they were getting. “HE LOOKED AT ME! HE LOVES ME!” they heard one girl shriek, and she immediately decked the poor boy standing next to her with a chair. “HE LOVES ME, NOT YOU!”

The concert turned into what was almost all-out war within a few minutes, and Ethan had to stop singing. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, stop fighting! All of you!”

They ignored him. The Questing Buddies tangoed carefully through the crowd and reached Ethan, who looked like he wanted any way to get off the stage. The stage, incidentally, was far too tall to get on or off without magical intervention or stairs without suffering serious harm.

“You three are the only ones fighting, right? I need to get down here before there’s a mob or something. Do any of you have a ladder?”

CJ looked questioningly at Gaudy, but M shook her head. “Leave this to me,” she said, and leaped impossibly high into the air, landing on the stage in a perfect crouch. A shockwave dramatically rippled through the ground, and the crowd stopped their brawl. “Whoops, sorry,” she said. “I don’t know how to do it without the cartoony shockwave, but just tell them the concert’s over and we can jump down from here.”

“People! I’m sorry to do this, but I have to bring this concert to an early ending. So thank you so much, and quit fighting!” Ethan looked questioningly at M.

The crowd went back to ignoring him.

“Okay, just, I don’t know, grab onto my elbow or something and hold on tight and-” She finished her sentence in midair, screaming, “CROUCH WHEN YOU HIT THE GROUND OR SOMETHING!”

Ethan and M hit the ground, looking surprisingly badass. “There. And if you ship us, we’ll kick your teeth in!” she yelled to the crowd. 

The crowd, surprisingly, did not ignore her, but stared at what they thought was a new competitor for Ethan’s hand.

“Exactly what the fuck is going on?” said Gaudy. “Don’t worry, I won’t ship you guys. We can hash out the newest member’s application form later, but we should probably speed tango away from this...mob. Take a rose, I’ll explain later.”

GAUDY

WE’RE BEING CHASED BY A MOB

WHY AM I NOT SURPRISED

THIS IS NOT THE FIRST TIME

CJ

THAT CAN BE SURMISED

I THINK WE SHOULD RUN

ALTHOUGH IT’S KINDA FUN

TO TANGO AWAY WITH YOU GUYS

ETHAN

I USUALLY SING

TO A NORMAL CROWD

MOBS REALLY AREN’T MY THING

M

BUT YOU’RE ETHAN THE LOUD!

WE REALLY SHOULD RUN

EVEN THOUGH IT’S FUN

TO TANGO AWAY WITH YOU GUYS

ALL

WE MIGHT REGRET THIS LATER

BUT THERE’S REALLY NOTHING GREATER

THAN TANGOING AWAY WITH YOU GUYS!

“Well, that was a lovely impromptu song and dance number, but we are now running for our lives and in desperate need of a plot device in real life- is that a lettuce farm?” Gaudy skidded cartoonishly to a stop at the sight of an adorable cottage with a garden full of lettuce. Add in a “screeching tires” sound and you’ve got the perfect mental image.

Someone who looked like your mental stereotype of a lettuce farmer, AKA a gay badass (we are all being completely serious, Tath is a gay badass), walked out of the cottage. “Hi, I’m Tath,” she said. “My wife and I were in there trying to figure out which lettuce seeds are the best, so- is that another mob? I’m not even going to ask at this point. Our cellar has a random secret passageway which has been there forever and serves no point, but it might work to hide in if you’re going on a quest.”

“Holy fuck, Tath, we are literally indebted to you at this point. I’d promise you my firstborn if I hadn’t already bet it,” said M. “Different story,” she added. “Not important right now.” 

                                                       ***

“How can cellars be cute? This is adorable!” CJ stepped back to take in the true majesty of the cellar. It was truly an adorable cellar. 

“All right, all of you, go into the miscellaneous passageway, my wife and I are kind of busy and it looks like an important plot point might be up there,” said Tath. “Hurry up, I was making dinner and I don’t want it to burn.”

The ragtag band hurried into the passageway. “Bye, all of you!” called Tath’s wife. “Don’t forget to put in a good word for us if you meet the king!”

The passageway started to climb, and the walls turned from tightly packed soil to stone bricks. Stairs started to appear as well, and the passageway morphed into a spiral staircase inside a tower.

“Well. I wasn’t expecting to be running around inside a castle today, but you never know.” Gaudy looked completely fine with everything going on, sort of floating up the stairs. They were the only one who wasn’t complaining quietly about how many stairs there were.

GAUDY

THIS IS A CASTLE

I THINK?

PRETTY SURE IT’S A CASTLE

I GUESS

CJ

I THINK IT MIGHT BE A STRONGHOLD

OR A DUNGEON, THAT’S THE BEST

GAUDY

BUT I’M NINETY PERCENT SURE IT’S A CASTLE

I GUESS

BOTH

IT MIGHT BE A DUNGEON,

IT MIGHT BE A TRAP

BOTH OF OUR IDEAS

MIGHT BE FULL OF CRAP

BUT SINCE WE’RE GOING 

ON A QUEST

I THINK IT’S A CASTLE

IT’S PROBABLY A CASTLE

PRETTY SURE THAT IT’S A CASTLE

I GUESS

“This tower is freakishly high, so how about some backstory?” CJ looked at Ethan. “You need to explain the mob, and you-” they looked at M- “need to explain where and why you bet your firstborn. You don’t even have kids!”

Ethan sighed. “This is gonna be a long story.”

*gratuitous flashback noise and animation*

“I was kind of wandering around pointlessly, wishing I could do something and go on a cool quest, when I ran into this lady in a huge pink poofy ball gown. You know the kind, the one any toddler would sell their soul to Satan for? She was wearing that. And a beauty-queen sash. She was smiling and doing that wave thing that made it look like she was washing a window, and when I went up to her, she was all-” Ethan pouted and did a bad impression of the lady’s voice- “’Oh, hello, I didn’t see you there.’ And then she went 'You’re cute. I’m gonna give you a gift.’ And she bopped me on the head with this wand that was like a pink sparkly star on a stick and told me that people would always be fans of my music and love me when I sang. Hard not to feel like she cursed me, yanno?”

“Well, that cleared that up,” said CJ. “Now you, M. “

M shrugged. “What can I say? Being an evil wizard’s apprentice means you bet a lot. You bet a lot of shit, and sometimes you bet your firstborn. Joke’s on them, I’m never having kids. If I do they’ll be dragons I’ve adopted or something.”

“Good life choices,” said Gaudy. “Wait-there are windows, and while I appreciate the natural light as much, if not more, than you people, the fact that they’re there is worrying.”

“Is now the time to dramatically point and scream ‘A DOOR!’ Because I’m all ready and drama waits for nobody,” CJ said.

“Alright, sure, point and yell, Christine,” said Gaudy. CJ looked at them. “What? It’s fitting! This is the musical!”

CJ pointed to the door and yelled, “A DOOR!” They bowed. Gaudy, M, and Ethan applauded.

“Let’s go through it. I mean, if anyone has any other plans...” Luckily, there were no other plans, and CJ’s plan, also known as the only plan possible, was carried out. Unluckily, this door opened onto a corridor, and down that corridor was a direct route to the throne room.

“What do we do?” CJ hissed. “If I know this king, he’s a flaming asshole and I don’t need this kind of negativity in my life.”

The luckless group tripped, as one, over a hilariously long carpet and quadruple somersaulted into the throne room in a move that was the textbook version of “undignified.” 

The king and his queen lolled mockingly on their thrones, looking like incredibly disgusted magazine models with a long and tiring day of nothing to do. “Hmph.” It was nothing but a noise of boredom and distaste. The king emitted it masterfully, being that boredom and distaste were his day jobs. 

The queen looked down her long nose at the ragtag band. “Desmond, dear, don’t you think they’re a little too raggedy to be in our throne room? I mean, we just got a new carpet and it’s already mussed...”

Her voice trailed off, only to return complete with a dusting of sugar. The queen had seen CJ.

“Oh, sweetie darling honeypumpkin, how we’ve missed you! Come up here and give Mummy a hug.” The queen smiled. She had lipstick on her teeth, a bright red color that added to the ambiance.

“Hey, I remember you!” Ethan was staring at the queen. “Weren’t you the one in a fairy princess dress with a...” He stopped talking. It had sunk in. This woman was CJ’s mother.

“Thank you ever so kindly,” said CJ, icicles hanging on every word. It suddenly felt much colder in the throne room. “But even though I was welcomed so warmly, I feel the need to alert my sister to my return. Thank you, Mother, for allowing me to leave.” With a final jab of sarcasm, they swept off, head held high, probably to their room.

“Ah,” said the king. “That leaves you raggedy bunch. Drusie, what do you want to do with them?” From far above there was a loud thunking noise, followed by a shriek. CJ was locked in.

“Oh, I’m quite sure I haven’t got a clue,” muttered the queen. “How about--THIS!” She pressed a button on the underside of her throne arm, and a pit opened in the floor. The ragtag band plummeted through into the dungeons. “Oh, Dezzy baby, we are brilliant! Those little shits are bribes in human form!”

DRUSILLA

OH DEZZY, DARLING, WE’RE BRILLIANT

YOU’RE THE KING OF THE HILL

I’M THE CREAM OF THE CROP

DESMOND

SILLA, SWEETIE, WE’RE KILLIN’ IT

WE’RE LIKE A ROLLERCOASTER

WITH NONE OF THE DROP

BOTH

YEAH, BABY, WE’RE GONNA BE ON TOP

CJ

TRAPPED IN THIS TOWER

AND HOUR BY HOUR

GETTING MORE ANNOYED

SINGING LOUDER AND LOUDER 

GLASS’LL CRUMBLE TO POWDER

AND THIS DAMN WINDOW WILL BE DESTROYED

AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!

(The window breaks. CJ squeezes through and begins to rappel down the castle wall.)

DRUSILLA

DEZZY, LET’S GO FOR A SPIN

DESMOND

IT SUITS THE SITUATION WE’RE IN

BOTH

YEAH, BABY

YEAH, HONEY

OOOOOH YEAH

WE ARE GONNA BE ON TOP!

To be continued.

[like-bunnies]

Most Magical Place

Most Magical Place – Ichabod and Abbie take their daughter on a trip to Disney World. This is a tiny little look at that event. Reblogging for Ichabbie Summer II because it’s a summer story and I don’t have time to write anything right now! 

*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^

“Ellorie Grace, return to this spot immediately!”

That was never going to be enough to stop a three-year-old determined to get to the Dumbo ride. Abbie gave Ichabod the side eye and shooed him off to chase after their daughter as she screamed out in her most terrifying ‘mama’ voice, “Ellie Crane, you take one more step and this day is over!”

Ichabod had just caught up to the girl and swooped her up into his long arms, her little arms waving desperately in the direction of the ride. She finally gave up and started crying instead, her tears (and some snot) now soaking her father’s shoulder.

At this moment, standing in the hot sun and covered in various bodily fluids, he was trying to remember why he had thought a family vacation here was a good idea. He had to wear a ridiculous mouse shirt because the staff at the gate had felt his clothing might be mistaken for the costumes of some of the Liberty Square ‘cast.’ Like 'employees’ wasn’t a good enough word. The day had been nothing so far but inane rides featuring animated characters he now knew too well.

And no one wanted to go to the Hall of Presidents with him. He had to suffer through this heat and humidity and afternoon thunderstorms like none he had ever seen before and he begged for one indulgence. Instead, here he was in Fantasyland. This was no man’s fantasy.

Abbie reached for the girl and she knew better than to cry for too much longer with her mama. Daddy, yes. Mama, no. Ichabod straightened the tiara on her curly hair and pulled her Princess Tiana dress so that it wasn’t riding up anymore. Her sparkly green slippers completed the outfit that they had to buy for her this morning.

He never imagined his daughter being part of the aristocracy but there it was.

“Are you taking her on this ride or am I? Only two people fit in each elephant,” Abbie said, frowning.

“After suffering through that Pooh ride I’m now expected to cram myself into a… a… flying elephant?” he asked.

“Daddy! I want to ride on this one with daddy!” Ellie screeched, reaching out for her father again. He grabbed her and looked at the line. It went into some waiting area and seemed to go on forever. Abbie shrugged her shoulders and pushed the stroller over to where the rest of them were parked.

“I can go with for the line. And to take pictures,” Abbie said, grabbing the giant backpack that she had with her from the rack under the stroller. It contained every item a mother could possible need and it made it look like she was going on a world tour instead of spending a day at a theme park.

Ichabod Crane never imagined this would ever be his life. Beside the fact that he should be long dead and decayed by now, just looking at this child made his heart swell. This was the reason he was here, suffering through fat bears with honey addictions and singing birds. He and Abbie had stopped the apocalypse. Held off Armageddon. And then created a person. The most glorious person on earth.

He couldn’t help it that he wanted everything for her after what happened with the last child he fathered. This one would know his love every singe day of her life, even if that meant he had to fold himself in half and climb into a silly elephant. Abbie constantly accused him of spoiling Ellorie and she was right.

Abbie and Ichabod stood in line and traded around their daughter and the backpack a number of times when each of them would get tired or too hot. A few people here and there stared at his family but he didn’t know whether it was because he was wearing a mouse shirt and colonial-era breeches or because they had the most beautiful child in all the kingdom.

He wasn’t so naive as to think that a relationship between a white man with a foreign accent (and strange trousers and boots) and a stunning black woman (exquisitely dressed in this era’s current fashions) – where there was also a one foot difference in height between them – would go unnoticed. Still, he wanted to believe that it was because his daughter made the best princess ever.

They got to an area where she could play and Ichabod followed, never taking an eye off of her. Abbie was there, too, smiling as he saved his daughter from some mayhem with a little Cinderella and a tiny Belle. He scooped her up and kissed her cheek as Abbie snapped a picture on her phone and sent it to someone. That had to be the millionth photo today.

“Still want to ride with daddy?” Abbie asked when it was their turn to proceed to the next part of the line. “Mama can go with you instead.”

“I want daddy!” she said with glee, as if she knew just how painful it would be for him to be strapped into this ride that only went in a circle while Abbie filmed it.

Ichabod turned to Abbie, gave her a kiss on the cheek as she continued to smirk. “For this, we all have to sit through the Hall of Presidents. And listen to whatever I have to say about it.”

“Oh, seeing you on this ride will be worth it. I hope she doesn’t get motion sick like on the plane,” Abbie said, laughing now.

“Hall of Presidents. And we get to eat at the Liberty Tree Tavern and while there, I get to tell at least one 'cast’ member just how wrong their version all is,” Ichabod said, heading off to the ride.

A few minutes later, just watching his daughter smile and laugh as the two of them soared around in a little circle made the fact that Abbie was probably sending the video to YouTube for the whole world to see all worth it. The heat. The rain. That stupid song that he couldn't get out of his head now.

The two women in his life smiling and happy made everything worth it.

The End

[ephemeralem0tions]

4100 Chapter 5 - It Takes Two

I seriously need to boost this story, I have noticed its having a hard time gaining reads unlike my past fics. Please drop by and read it if you can <3 

P.S. Abby is Hanji

Theme: future AU

Rating: PG

Warning: Curse words, future nsfw, violence

AO3 version overe here x

Send a request here >>> ASK

He adjusted the cuffs of his long sleeve polo with ease, then topped everything with a blazer which completed the formal look. He sure looked like a noble himself, if only he dressed like this every single day. But of course, he would not. The clothes may look good, but they are far less comfortable than people think. The tight slack restrain him from moving too much, collar somewhat chocking him and rubbing around his neck, the double layers making him feel the heat which will make him sweat a lot if there was no proper air conditioning. Still, he felt that the get up was incomplete.

He pulled out one of his white cloths that he usually used as bandanas from his closet. Artfully tying it around his neck till it became a cravat.

“Not bad” he whispered, admittedly admiring himself in front of the mirror. He also had his hair slicked back with hair gel, his freshly groomed undercut showing below the tamed hair above.

“I hate this dress” Abby groaned, entering his room and tugging the neckpiece of her halter type gown. She looked human, and started to act like a human as soon as he got up. This is the first time he’s actually seen her looking genuinely irritated and not smiling. What a good actress, she really did her research last night.

She continued to pull the sparkling fabric away from her neck and he sighed. Erwin may have went over board with their undercover outfits. The goal was to look less noticeable, but her stunning sparkly gown may even draw the attention closer to them. Abby’s back was also exposed to the public. Although her figure lacked some chest, she was tall, thin and well built for a woman’s body. She would surely be a topic for young bastards in the gala. Only they don’t know she actually isn’t human after all. Especially if she keeps a great act.

“Stop pulling at it, you might rip it. For all we know Erwin might have splurged his tight ass budget for this” he hissed, pulling her hands away from herself.

“But its really itching, I hate it” she frowned. Fucking great pretentious girl indeed.

He eyed at her nape which was already turning red fro all the scratching. Wow, she can even make herself physically human now and have rash.

“Its because of your hair, its hitting the area and causes more irritation” he pointed out.

“So what am I supposed to do? Cut it?” she rolled her eyes. Was that a terrible display or sarcasm? Or a bratty attitude.

He grabbed her hair and inched her face closer to his, slightly bending forward so their heights would match. Geez, her hair feels so greasy, is it the product of being a bionic? He made a mental note to tell her to take a bath. Or can she even take a bath?

“You tie it four eyes” this time, he was the one who rolled his eyes at her. “I thought you were supposed to be the smartest in your kind?” he smirked once seeing her rare, irritated look.

“I am! I’m just still having a hard time coping up with this human thing” she sighed.

His mind suddenly drifted off to the time when he’d fix Isabel’s hair into pigtails, or braids in some occasions. He wondered if he can still work the magic and do it on Abby.

“Where are you going?” she asked him, once he passed her and went straight towards a drawer beside his bed.

“Tying your hair” he nonchalantly replied, pulling out a spare black cord he remembered he had.

He gestured for her to sit on the edge of the bed, and he carefully, and artfully tamed her hair the best he could. He twisted it upwards with both hands as he stuck the cord between his teeth. He then layered her hair on top of her head into a neat bun before securing it with a cord. Then, he pulled small wisps of hair back to her face so it looks quite like an unintended but beautiful mess.

“This is actually really nice” she complimented his work, after looking at herself in the mirror. But his brows furrowed upon realizing that she would make the perfect show stopper with her current look. He should have messed up more to the point that she would look like a Poodle and no one would dare look at her. Or would that bring more disapproving looks on her?

“They’re here” she turned around and made her way towards the door with him in a tow. This is it, their second task begins.

“The deal is to look less distracting, you two look like you’re the fucking celebrant” Mike laughed, only to earn a harsh glare from Levi.

Compared to what him and Abby were wearing, Mike and Oriana’s suits were really far from what Erwin sent to him. Mike’s suit was almost similar to him, only that the fabric used was less shiny, cheaper in fact. The tall man also had a bowtie instead of a cravat, and he also made no effort with his looks. Mustache untamed as well as his hair. Heck, Mike’s bangs already covered his eyes. Oriana wore a rather plain satin dress, which had thin straps above her shoulders, and a straight cut right to her soles.

Certainly, Erwin had something up his sleeved, if he maid the pairs look different.

“You look beautiful” Abby greeted Oriana with a subtle smile.

“Thank you” Oriana replied, still stiff and evidently less human-like. Either Abby really did a great job, or it had something to do with their ranks.

“Considered we picked you up right at the HQ, it would only take us half an hour to reach Utgard. Did Erwin give special orders awhile ago?” he went back to his serious demeanor, and so did everyone inside the vehicle. This time, no more jokes, it was time to work.

“No, not at all” Mike responded. “But he did give the both of us these ear pieces so he can instruct things from the outside. He said he’ll be with the brigade to back us up at the perimeters of the palace” he was handed a small metal ball he inserted inside his ear. “Abby and Oriana can use the mind link to talk with everyone else” the two girls nodded.

“How about weapons? Did he give out guns?”

“Nope. He believes that we can pull this off with the help of our bionics. They are our lucky charm for this” Mike gave a glance to his partner, who just ignored him.

Damn yeah he has a clumsy bionic by his side. Whom he expected to be all great again on the mission. If there was a time to release all her talents, it was now.

“Sannes is by the bar, getting a drink” a static echoed right at his left ear after Mike spoke. Sure enough, he can see the target a good distance away from him and Abby.

It had been torture to him for the last two hours, trying not to shoot a death glare to everyone who came in their way. Glances were also directed to them, probably people thinking how wealthy he and his date are, but that is very far from reality. They were here for an undercover mission, possibly to kill someone if it was the worst case scenario.

“Target is on the move out” This time, Oriana was the one to speak. She had been standing on her post, casually chatting with a group of young men on a corner, while him and Abby stayed on the balcony. He figured it was the best spot, so he and Abby could be able to spy without any people watching their movements. She stood a good few meters away from him, a champagne glass in hand. If he didn’t know that she was a robot, he would have thought she was a princess.

“It is quite flattering Levi, but please, I am a bionic not a robot” damn, he forgot about the mind link. “Target moving towards the dance floor” She set her glass down on a tray of a server that passed by. His sight then followed Sannes, who indeed looked like he was about to socialize before he commits his crime.

“Levi” a sudden static made him wince and lean sidewards. Erwin’s voice came from the ear piece, booming and loud.

“Will you please be gentle?” he groaned.

“The dance is a waltz. Go to the middle with Abby” his eyes widened at the command.

“I thought we were supposed to go undercover? Not be the circus act?” he hissed. He wasn’t even sure if Abby can dance.

“Downloading basic step sequence” he internally cursed. “You know I can hear you right?”

He gave her a single glance, and in a split second the two were already making a grand re-entrance from the flower clad staircase, to the dance floor. God knows he never learned how to skate, nor dance. It was going to be a disaster, specially when he did not know how to lead.

“I’ll lead then” his eyebrows furrowed at her suggestion. “Just make it look like I’m the follow when I’m actually leading” This is going to be a disaster. “It won’t” her reassuring voice snapped him out of his negativity. “It takes two to tango. As long as you are showing effort, the two of us can pull it through”

He took one of her hands in his, his other arm supporting her back, while she grabbed his shoulder. She felt really warm, from the touch of her bare skin down her back. The heat seemed to envelope him as well, due to the piling circumstances. There was the pressure to dance, the lack of knowledge on why they are doing this, the number of eyes looking at them and only them. He knew he could not mess up and just get away with it. When Erwin has a plan, it always works, and he sure would not like to fail his second task. There will be a grave consequence if he slipped up on this one.

“I bust the windows out your car”

His eyes widened at the sudden change of phase by the music. This was no waltz! Damn Erwin tricked him!

“And no it didn’t mend my broken heart” Abby was quick to adjust, stepping sideways then right into a box step, the foundation of a tango. He silently prayed that his feet and body would let him sway with the flow. If he can shoot, fight, be acrobatically good, then perhaps he can also do an impromptu dance.

“I'll probably always have these ugly scars But right now I don't care about that part I bust the windows out your car”

She suddenly leaned backwards, and he caught her out of reflex, a few claps erupting from the crowd. She then lifted herself up, and stared at him right in the eyes. Her hazel irises were also warm, like her body. On contrast to his cold grey eyes and cold demeanor.

“Trust in me” it was as if she whispered inside his thoughts.

“After I saw you laying next to her I didn't wanna but I took my turn I'm glad I did it cause you had to learn”

Her hips started to sway into the rhythm, his breath hitched. ‘She’s just a robot, not a human’ he reminded himself.

“Again, I’m a bionic” She gave him a sinister smile and swayed even furiously against him. So she also knew the concept of teasing now. As she said, it takes two to tango, and it can also take two to play this game.

“I must admit it helped a little bit To think of how you'd feel when you saw it”

He took a few steps away from her and let himself loose in the music. He watched her every move against the light, remaining focused on his partner as he put on the face everyone loved. A playful looking Levi who smirked and glowed under the spotlight.

“I didn't know that I had that much strength But I'm glad you'll see what happens when You see you can't just play with people's feelings Tell them you love them and don't mean it You'll probably say that it was juvenile But I think that I deserve to smile”

They met again, their faces dangerously close to each other, while he caressed one of her cheeks in a seducing manner at the back of his palm, before pushing her away with a twirl and pulling her back into his arms.

“I bust the windows out your car You know I did it cause I left my mark”

He let her leaned backwards, slowly, and followed her till they were only inches away from the floor.

“Wrote my initials with a crow bar And then I drove off into the dark I bust the windows out your car You should feel lucky that that's all I did”

He pulled her back up, but never letting her free leg go. He brought it up to his waist level as her breath fanned out on his face. Their sweat started glistening like small beads through the light.

“After five whole years of this bullshit Gave you all of me and you played with it”

They stood there, in a daze, lips a few centimeters away from meeting entirely. She was really keeping up a good act. From his view, it looked like she was sincerely attracted to him as well for the moment.

He slowly closed his eyes as the crowd cheered for them. He pulled it off, thanks to his amazing partner, although he still would not admit.

“You don’t need to say it to my face” He saw her laughing as he opened his eyes. His breathing had barely turned to normal after fatigue and she was already laughing at him. Right, she isn’t human, he needed to get a grip.

“Hey short lover boy!” Mike’s voice echoed from his ear.

“What?” he asked with a groan.

“Target is already escaping towards the west wing. Oriana and I are on his trail, but we might need you on the opposite side” his eyes widened as he dragged Abby out of the dance floor.

“Shit” he cursed. “We are on our way”

He was already panting, trying to catch his breath whilst running, While Abby effortlessly jogged beside him with her usual smile. Either she is back to her old self, or adrenaline was rushing into her. But who knows? She is only a top class bionic with good acting skills and exemplary wits.

“Target has already reached the second floor” Abby had alerted him via the mind link. She was already effortlessly jumping from one step to another up the stairs, while he held unto the railings and silently cursed. Sure he was trained for cardio, but the dance had already slightly tired him. The running and jogging had taken its toll on him too. Days of no sleep, and no decent food due to his stress had surely caught up with him.

“Hey short stack, where are you? He’s already went out the terrace” Mike whispered from the other side of the intercom.

“This way Levi!” Abby peeked behind her to get a view of him as she turned towards the left.

“Already on the hallway you hairy beast” he responded, still trying to regain his normal breathing.

“Well hurry up!” he heard, before the line went dead.

They had no guns or knives to fight with, only two robots, or rather, bionics by their sides, and hand to hand combat skills. He aced the subject, and so did Mike, but the exact situation was never presented to them. They never knew how to apprehend Sannes the right way. There was a code, but he hoped the man did not carry a remote or any kind of bribing device with him or else the situation would be damned.

In all honesty, all he wanted for now is some rest and a cup of high grade tea. Everything in his life was already starting to set into place, his home and a stable but dangerous job. All he had to worry about now is Abby, and his budgeting.

“You fucktard! What are you doing?!” he winced as Mike’s booming voice rung in his ears.

“Levi!” Abby soon after followed. He started to wonder why they were talking like he did something wrong.

Then it dawned on him, he spaced out while walking. Abby, Mike and Oriana were no where to be seen, and Sannes was standing in front of him with a confused look. The now dark, and star clad sky behind the target.

“Can I, help you?” Sannes asked, a bit of hesitation evident with his tone.

He was shit with words, since then, he was never good with talking. He knew he would fuck up the first sentence that comes right out of his mouth, and he had no time nor patience to think about it logically. He gave away his most disinterested look and spoke.

“The code” he can already hear Mike’s face palm from his ear piece.

“The what?” his opponent tried to be innocent, and his brows furrowed in annoyance.

“You heard me” he growled. “The code”

“I have no idea what you are talking about” Sannes laughed, but he knew with the man’s tone that he was lying.

“Don’t shit with me. We know your plans for Trost and you are damned” the man smirked with his words. The intel was correct, the culprit had a plan in mind. Even if Sannes did not fire the missiles, he was already framed for stealing the code from the Factory city.

“So I suppose if I have the code, I’d just need to turn it over?” the man shrugged.

“Yes” he replied, although he already expected that there would be a catch. No villain was to succumb without a fight, not even in a fairy tale.

Soon enough, a metal controller was brought out of Sannes’ back pocket, a huge red button laying between the metal pad and the man’s thumb, just a few centimeters away from getting pressed. He knew it, the code would already be transmitted into one accessible object.

“I was going to fire this along with the fire crackers so that all Reeve’s attention would be on his beloved town as it crumbles. But you stealing the show had backfired my plan. At this very moment, the scientists are already probably trying to change the code so I don’t have any time to spare. I’d just have to let him witness a destroyed city the next morning after he comes ‘home’” his teeth gritted at the statement, if he took another step, Sannes would surely press the button without hesitation.

“Levi, distract him for a moment will you, I’m going in” He heard Abby from inside his mind.

“What?!” He reacted in disbelief. “What are you going to do?!” One single mistake, and the fate of the citizens of trost will vanish from their hands. He did not need a clumsy bionic right now, there must be another way.

“Just trust me! It takes two remember?” he sighed, he had to trust her, just like how they did on the dance floor.

“Any last words?” A sinister smile sat on Sannes’ chapped lips, making him cringe. Sure the villain role fitted the man, but his over try to become intimidating when he wasn’t — At least for him — was awful.

Abby emerged from his peripheral vision, sneaking behind Sannes. He silently prayed that she succeed in her plans, as he tried to take his gaze away from her.

“Yes” he replied, just to buy time.

“So what is it?” this, would probably be the dumbest antagonist we would know.

“Damn you little shit” Anger flamed from Sannes’ eyes. Surely, the once noble man could not take any insults.

“Why you-“ he was about to press the button, but Abby slapped it away just on time. She locked her hands on her wrists although she was failing miserably to hold the man due to him harsh movements.

He let his reflexes take over as he grabbed the remote from the ground, immediately putting it inside his pocket for safe keeping. Mike and Oriana had also emerged from one of the pillars behind him, stepping into the action.

“Fuck!” Abby yelped, one that greatly surprised him. She still held unto Sannes for a few good seconds before the taller man thrashed her to the side, whimpering. Although it is essential in work to finish the job first before thinking of yourself and your friends, he found himself rushing to his partner’s side while Mike and Oriana took care of Sannes.

Fury flashed in his eyes as Sannes dropped a steak knife down to the ground after getting pinned down by Mike. A gush of dark fluid rushed out of Abby’s left side, her eyes closed as if she was in pain. Maybe bionics can also feel pain once it reaches a certain intensity.

“Are you okay?” he crouch down beside her, pressing on her side and feeling the warmth.

For one moment, he was sure that he saw red after staring at his ‘blood’ tainted hands, but it suddenly turned blue, as if it was oil or gas. Her cut seemed like it was flesh as well, his confusion, curiosity and shock mixing all together with the mystery.

“Abby-“ he was about to ask her if she can heal, but she had already passed out in his arms, only a rip on her dress leaving the area where she was stabbed. Her skin, already a clean and fixed slate. All the regeneration must have taken its toll on her just as he was tired. They both needed a rest, and good food.

“Levi, lets go” Mike motioned for him to carry Abby, and so he did, despite the girl being ten centimeters taller than him. And for a moment, he wasn’t sure if it was shock, or dismay he saw in Oriana’s eyes, although he did not know why.