#he can have some maroons/burgundy as a treat but that's about it

[aroaceleovaldez]

Thalia's color is ultramarine, Jason's color is cyan, Percy's is teal, Bianca's is green, Nico's is olive, and Hazel's is gold.

The big 3 kids make a color gradient in order (Zeus [sky] > Poseidon [ocean] > Hades [underground]) hope this helps

[endless-ineffabilities]

Maroon (part one)

modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed your wine into me

And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was (maroon)

themes: fluff, Aemond and the reader being friends first, shy reader, red wine antics, language + Aemond does not have his disability/lost eye in this one (but I plan to write it in for a potential part two)

word count: 3.8k

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader has always admired Aemond Targaryen from afar, the brother of her best friend Helaena. Little does she know, she has caught his eye as well. Something is revealed one night, encouraged by a sudden splash of maroon.

"You've been awfully silent tonight," Aemond says, "and more so after Helaena went to bed. Is something wrong, y/n?"

Your fingers tighten around your wine glass, unsure of what to say. Perhaps you have withdrawn back into your shell when your best friend Helaena decided she was going to bed early. She is quite the lightweight, after all. A few sips of wine and she was out.

You didn't mind. But she left you here with Aemond, sprawled out on the expensive carpet in their living room. He gracefully leans against the couch, remaining poised. One thing you admire about him is the way he carries himself, almost with a sense of regal austerity that makes him intimidating to most people. Add that to the fact that Aemond is one of the heirs to the Targaryen business empire, the richest family in the city.

But for some reason, he is gentle with you. Treating you differently than he does anyone else. Almost with reverence. Helaena once joked that he shouldn't go easy on you too much, with you being tougher than you look. Aemond just laughed it off, but you stood there awkwardly, unable to hide the way your face grew flushed all over.

Your crush on Aemond Targaryen has only gotten worse since then.

"I'm not silent," you find yourself blurting out in a defensive tone, "I'm... just... nursing my wine, that's all."

Get your shit together, y/n.

A small smile appears on Aemond's lips, as he notices your increasingly flustered state, "Okay, I believe you."

"Good," you look down at your glass, swirling it around. What should I say next? What should I say next?

Aemond interrupts your nervous train of thought, continuing his sentiment slowly, "Because, you know, I would hate to think if there's anything wrong, or if you feel uncomfortable in any way. We are friends, y/n. I want you to feel that you can be free around me, as you are around Helaena."

He just knows the right words to say, doesn't he?

"I know," you respond, in a calmer tone that even surprises you, "and I appreciate that, Aemond. I apologize if I come off as aloof sometimes - "

"Don't apologize," he laughs dryly, "if there's anyone who knows what it's like to come off as aloof, it's me."

"True enough," you smile, taking a sip of your wine. You don't notice Aemond’s eyes follow your movement, fixating at last on the way your lips curve against the glass.

"Tell you what," he says, "how about we play a game? Break the ice even more and all that."

"A game?"

"Yeah, like, I haven't a clue... truth or dare?"

You gulp, your mind racing with the possibilities of what that game usually entails when played out, "I don't think that works with just two people, Aemond."

"Why not?" he slides a bit closer to you on the carpet, and your heart races ever faster.

"It just... it just doesn't!" you shrug, breathing out in a slight huff. He's so close. So close.

"I say it can work, y/n."

"Really, now?" you raise your eyebrows, "I'm not built for doing dares."

"We'll keep it simple. Nothing too ridiculous. And if we don't want to tell the truth, or do a dare, we just have to take three sips of wine."

"Hmm..."

"Or even soda, or water. If you prefer. I don't want to feel like I'm making you drink. Helaena would murder me if you get too drunk whilst in my company." Ah, Aemond. Always so considerate.

"I'm okay," you smile, "I'll stick with wine."

"So you accept my offer?"

You take a deep breath, in an attempt to steel your nerves. Before you can chicken out, and change your mind, you say, "Fine. Let's play."

"Wonderful," he smirks, "So, darling... truth or dare?"

"Truth," you croak, the way he addressed you as darling still echoing in your ears. There's no way you'll jump right into a dare.

"Okay. What was your first impression of me?"

"Oh," you rack your brain for an appropriate answer. One that can be said out loud in front of Aemond anyway.

"I, uhm, I thought you were polite."

"Polite?" he laughs freely, "glad to know I make that much of a lasting impression."

"I mean, not just that," you lean forward, "you were well put together, I guess. Quiet, but not shy. I got the sense that you know exactly who you are. You've got a strong sense of self, and as a result, you know how to take care of yourself, and your family. It's admirable, really." You also thought of running your fingers through his astonishingly silver hair, craving to know what it felt like, but he doesn't need to know that now.

"Hmm," he smiles softly, looking down, almost wistfully, "there was a time when I was quite different, you know. I was so insecure, and so angry. It's a miracle that I've grown into who I am now, but I am proud of myself for it."

Aemond is opening up to me? You get a sense of innocence with the way he spoke, and a sincerity, with all pretenses put away. Here, he is just Aemond, not this great heir or this renowned scholar. “That truly is something to be proud of,” you profess, “I, for one, am proud of the person that you are.”

His eyes light up as he looks at you, “That means a lot coming from you, y/n.”

“Does it?” you ask. Why would it? Since the first time you met, over a year ago, you have not had many lengthy interactions. The handful of times you were brought together, with only the two of you, were purely coincidental. Like this very moment. You did not expect to be drinking wine with him on the carpet tonight. You had actually considered heading home after Helaena went to bed, but Aemond took your hand, pulling you back down to sit with him, imploring you to please stay. Just a while longer.

And you are glad that you had.

“It does,” is the only thing that Aemond says in response, and as much as you want to press on, you decide to let it go.

“Okay, Aemond. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he takes a sip of wine. You think of how pointless the whole condition of only having to take a drink when refusing the challenge has become. You two continue to drink, either way.

“I dare you to… uhm, tell me something in High Valyrian.” You’ve always been fascinated by the Targaryens’ native language, them being originally from the faraway country of Valyria. It is truly a place on top of your bucket list, and you secretly wish that Aemond would take you there one day.

“That’s easy,” he smiles, then pauses, looking at you directly in your eyes. He takes a deep breath, as if mulling over what to say. Then you hear it.

“Iksā gevie.”

You swallow nervously. The way his voice deepened went straight to your head, making you feel slightly faint. You whisper, “That sounds… lovely. What does it mean?”

“I’ll let you figure that out on your own.”

You punch him lightly on the shoulder, your confidence gaining a significant boost from the wine, “Come on. Just tell me. What did you say again? Ikse gevya... gevy?”

He beams, amused by your pronunciation, “Iksā gevie,” he repeats, “Eek-sah gev-yeh.”

“Right, right,” you nod, taking another sip of wine, “Just you wait until I type that in Google Translate. It better not have been anything rude.”

“Oh, it wasn’t,” he promises. “Truth or dare?”

“Eh… dare,” you say, but you immediately change your mind. “No, wait, truth! I choose truth.”

“Are you absolutely sure, darling?” Aemond croons, tilting his head.

“Truth.”

“Alright, then. Are you seeing… uh…” he pauses, clearing his throat, “are you seeing any… any chance of you working for our company in the future?”

Are you seeing anyone? He had wanted to ask instead. Aemond internally kicks himself for pulling back.

You notice how weirdly he phrased that question. You choose your answer carefully, “Well, it’s definitely something I would consider. You know how much I admire your family. But, I don’t want anything handed to me on a plate. If I were to get a job there, I want it to be on my own merit. I don’t want you or Helaena or anyone to vouch for me, or put in a good word for me, just because I’m your friend.”

“I understand, darling.” He smiles at the determined way with which you spoke. His stubborn girl. “But if you ever need any help, I’m here.”

You reach out to squeeze his hand gently, as a sign of your appreciation, “Thank you, Aemond. You’ve always been kind to me.”

He looks down at your hand around his, and he clutches yours in return. When your eyes meet, you see that his gaze is so warm, so gentle. You feel as if you are being held. Like you’re safe.

You finally let go of his hand, “So, truth or dare?”

And so, the game continues for another half hour, the two of you growing increasingly inebriated by the minute. The wine glasses have been put to the side, the two of you opting to  take turns with drinking out of the bottle instead. You answer all sorts of questions from Aemond, such as “Which of the Targaryen siblings do you think should run the company?”, “Who’s your preferred drinking partner, Aegon or Daeron?”, and “Do you like my hair better short or long?”

You ask him your fair share, but one thing that sticks to your mind is what he answers to “Are you interested in anyone at the moment?”

“Yes. I think so.” He says, and you can tell that he is being honest. Your heart sinks at that. Of course, there would be someone who already caught Aemond’s eye. He is one of the city’s most eligible bachelors, after all. Women everywhere are vying for his attention. It only makes sense that he would eventually meet someone he truly liked.

“That’s great. I’m happy for you.” Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, and Aemond astutely picks up on what you may have assumed.

“Darling, I - ”

You cut him off bluntly, not remembering that it’s his turn to ask, “Truth or dare, Aemond?”

“Hmm,” he stands, your question hanging in the air, with his hand outstretched for you to take, “come with me. I want to show you something.”

Taking the wine bottle, you stand and interlace your fingers with his. “Where are we going?”

He guides you out of the expansive living room, turning right at the end of a long hallway. He pries open a glass pivot door, revealing the private stairwell of their penthouse. Without a word shared, you climb up the flight of stairs together. One floor, two floors, three. Until you reach what can only be the roof of the high-rise building they live in.

The cool, midnight air is a refreshing assault to your senses. Immediately, you feel more awake, less drowsy from the wine. The rooftop is spacious and has been outfitted with a seating area, plenty of potted plants, dainty lighting fixtures that hang from the posts, as well as an exposed room littered with bust sculptures. The balcony stretches all around its perimeter, made out of ornately carved bronze.

“Wow,” you say, after taking it all in. “I’ve never been up here before.” You turn to look at him, and he seems pleased at your reaction. You add, “And you live here? Imagine. My entire apartment must only be a quarter of this rooftop, if not less.”

“Hmm,” he smiles, looking around, “I like to come up here to think. This rooftop is rarely ever in use, since my family all prefer to huddle downstairs. And well, Aegon’s afraid of heights.” He sneers at the end.

“Is he now?” you hand him the bottle of wine, “Remind me to bring that up the next time we see him.”

“Last time he was up here, he threw up over the balcony.”

“Oh, god,” Aemond laughs at the way your face scrunches up in disgust. “That’s quite a long drop. I hope he didn’t hit anyone on the sidewalk with it.”

“What a shame, really. That would have been the most interesting lawsuit.” Aemond remarks, before motioning with his head for you to follow him.

He reaches a plush seat facing the balcony, and the two of you sit in relative silence for a while. The whole city seems to be sprawled out below you, and the stars above also gleam much closer, like they are just within reach. Your wandering eyes take everything in with awe, but Aemond only watches you.

Instead of the stars, he thinks of how you are within reach. If only he would just let you know how he feels.

When you turn to finally look at him, you are surprised to see that he has been watching you. “Aemond,” you say, “why are you so nice to me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, why are you so nice to me? From what I’ve seen, you are indifferent to most people. It can’t just be because I am Helaena’s friend, is it? You don’t have to treat me like I’m some fragile doll, you know. I won’t break, I swear.” Your voice takes on a sarcastic tone, and the corner of his lips lift in a smile.

He looks away, facing the tops of the buildings in the sprawling city that his family empire practically owns. Prince of the city, some people call him.

“I know that, darling.” He tilts his head partially towards you. “I like that you’re… different. I mean, trust me when I say, the crowd that the lot of us are exposed to tends to be entitled, shallow sycophants.”

“Bit harsh, Aemond.”

“Perhaps,” he smiles sardonically, “but anyway. I’m used to people only being interested in me because of my last name, or the family legacy. No one’s ever bothered to see me for who I truly am, save for only a handful of people. Because of this, I get quite protective of Helaena, since she can be overly trusting. She only chooses to see the good in others.”

“That’s what I love the most about her,” you say sincerely.

“Hmm, yes. But it also makes her more vulnerable. She’s had friends before, who were only clearly hanging around her so they might leech off of her higher status.”

“Aemond, I’m sorry to hear - ”

“But not you. I am aware that Helaena tried to help you before. Tried to get you a better apartment, or get you a high-ranking job with us. It would be easy, just like that. But you refuse, time and time again. You don’t mock us either, simply for being who we are, and having this much privilege. You see us as people, and unfortunately that’s a rare thing. I can tell that you truly care for Helaena, otherwise I wouldn’t let you hang around her at all,” Aemond smiles, nudging your shoulder, then drapes his arm on the back of the seat behind you.

“Overprotective brother much?” you taunt lightly.

“It’s an affliction I choose to bear,” you notice how he has leaned closer, his breath warm on your face.

You swallow nervously, “So, I guess you answered my question.”

“Partially,” he shakes his head slightly, “darling, I’ve got a long list of reasons why I like you, and that’s only scratching the surface.”

“Oh.” If you thought you felt faint before, then you were just about ready to pass out now. Panicking, you raise the wine bottle to your lips, taking a long drag. But when you pull the bottle away, you must have done it in a nervous rush, causing it to tilt in a way that wine spills out and splashes on your shoulder.

“Steady, y/n.” Aemond takes the bottle from you, setting it down on the stone floor.

“Fuck.” You look down and see the wine stain on your shirt, seeping wider, a shade of scarlet so deep it could be mistaken for maroon.

Suddenly, Aemond laughs. You want to act incredulous, or annoyed, but the sound of his laughter is so hearty and genuine. And so rare, that you find yourself smiling at the sight of his dimples deepening, and the faint lines around his eyes bursting free.

“What’s so funny?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he shrugs, shaking his head, “It’s just, at the rate you’re going with the wine, you could be giving Aegon a run for his money.”

“Ha-ha,” you dab at your shirt with your hand, but it doesn’t do much good.

“Come, I can lend you something to wear.” He takes your hand, leading you out of the rooftop.

“It’s alright, Aemond. I can just borrow one from Helaena.”

“She’s already asleep,” the two of you descend down the stairwell, stopping at the first floor below.

“I’m sure she won’t mind.” Where is he taking me? Must be the laundry room, or a guest room?

“I insist,” he declares, dropping your qualms altogether.

You come to a halt in front of a wooden door, painted a brushed forest green. Before you could ask anything, he holds the door open for you, “This is my room.”

You look at him expectantly, unsure of whether you should enter. He only smiles, “After you, darling.”

With your heart pounding in your chest, and the maroon patch still vivid by your shoulder, you step inside Aemond’s bedroom. It’s massive, predictably, just like every other room in this penthouse. The walls are a comforting, deep shade of forest green, just like the door. There are also accented panels of dark gray, to avoid a monotony of colour. The furniture is simple, clean, modern. Yet each one possesses intricate detailing. His bookshelf covers the entire eastern wall. His bed… well. You compose yourself, trying not to let your mind wander.

You feel him standing behind you, waiting.

“Nice room,” you say.

“Hmm,” you can practically hear the smile in his voice, “thank you. I don’t really bring anyone in here.”

“Oh, I don’t mean to impose - ”

“Stop. I asked you to come in here, y/n.” He walks over to a sliding door to the left, revealing a large walk-in wardrobe. Of course he would have one of those.

He disappears inside for a moment, before returning to you, a dark green sweater in his hand. The same shade as his bedroom walls. Hmm. Aemond seems to have an affinity for green.

“Here, put this on.” He hands the sweater to you. “This should be comfortable enough to sleep in.”

“Thanks,” you take it, feeling the material in your hands.

“No problem,” he continues to look at you, and you have to ask, pointing to the walk-in wardrobe, “Could I maybe change in there?”

“Right, sorry, I should have offered,” Aemond smiles, looking down.

“One second.”

When you gently slide the door shut, you lean back against it, taking the deep calming breath you’ve been holding in. Being around Aemond makes you feel as if your very skin is on fire. The attraction you feel for him becomes so palpable, making you somewhat a nervous wreck. There’s no need. Like he said, he is your friend, y/n.

You sit on the bench in the middle of the room, taking your shirt off. Hurriedly, you put on his green sweater, and he’s right. It is so damn comfortable. And it smells exactly like him.

“Everything alright in there?” you hear him from behind the sliding door.

“Y-yeah,” you say. Taking your stained shirt in one hand, you stand, and meet him outside.

He studies you, admiring the way his sweater hangs off your torso. “Hmm,” he remarks, as he always does, “you look better in it than I do, y/n.”

“Well, thank you,” you say sincerely, before adding, “but I have to disagree.”

“You look beautiful.” He suddenly says, the words immediately taking root in your heart, “You are beautiful.”

“What?” you croak, your voice coming out in an astonished whisper.

“That is what I said earlier,” he continues, “That is what iksā gevie means.”

“Oh.”

Aemond crosses the few steps needed to erase the distance between the two of you, plucks the shirt from your hand, and deftly tosses it to a nearby chair. Then, he takes your hands in his. He gazes into your eyes, and his expression is a mixture of longing and reluctance. He then traces your cheekbone with his fingers, delicately, as if you will crumble under his touch. And you just might.

“Aemond - ”

“Iksan jāre naejot vūjigon ao sir.”

You feel the urge to ask him what those words mean, instead you choose to simply let it be, and just bask in the sincerity in his tone. In the way he does not drop your gaze when he spoke them. In the way his hands slowly find themselves on your waist, pulling you close.

He leans in, slowly. And the whole world ceases to exist around you. The ringing in your ears becomes silenced, and there is only Aemond. You’ve always wondered what it would feel like, his lips pressed against yours. His devotion reserved only for you. It seemed like a dream, but now, it is well within reach.

But the dream is shattered when a heavy knock echoes throughout the room. Three, brief, raps on the forest green surface. That was all it took to break the spell.

Aemond’s brows furrow in frustration, his hands still on your waist. There is an anger in his voice when he calls loudly over his shoulder, “Yes?”

“It’s me, sir.” You recognize the intruder to be Criston Cole, the head of their family’s security team.

“Wait here, darling,” Aemond says, running his finger over your lips, over what he could have taken if you had not been interrupted.

Aemond opens the door, and you briefly meet Criston’s eyes from across the room.

Your presence in Aemond’s room seems to catch him off guard, but he straightens quickly, “Aemond, there is someone here for you.”

“At this fucking hour?”

Looking at you once more, Criston lowers his voice when he replies, but you hear it anyway. “It’s Alys Rivers. She’s waiting for you downstairs as usual.”

As usual. Alys Rivers. The famous model and socialite. You knew of her from the magazines, the internet. There have been tabloid articles of her and Aemond, but you knew better than to pay any attention to them, not believing that there could be any truth to such lowly forms of media. Or at least, that was what you assumed. But if she’s here, in this ungodly hour, then…

“I think I should get to bed,” you walk towards the doorway, “to Helaena’s room, that is.”

“No,” Aemond stops you in your tracks, grabbing your arm, “wait. We aren’t finished yet. I just - ”

“Your guest is waiting, Aemond.” You cut him off, not meeting his eyes.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he says, while he tries to get you to look at him, but to no avail. You’re worried that if you do, you might not be able to leave.

Criston shuffles out of the way to let you through, greeting you with a cordial, “Good night, y/n.” You notice how there might even be a hint of regret in his eyes.

Each step feels heavy as you make your way down the hallway to Helaena’s room. Compared to how you felt, mere moments ago, as though you were floating on air.

Sleep doesn’t come easy to you that night, your thoughts racing on what might be happening down the hall. Who is Alys Rivers to you, Aemond? Why did she have to ruin what would have been a perfect night? Are you just stringing me along?

When you finally succumb to slumber, you fall into a dream.

Of who else but Aemond? Of who else but the one whom your heart desires?

Ok ok ok. This will be the last thing posted before part 5 of Heart on Fire. I think. 🤞

“Iksan jāre naejot vūjigon ao sir.” - "I'm going to kiss you now." - Aemond 🖤

Maroon just had to be multi-chaptered. It might be my favourite track from midnights.

Apologies to those who have sent requests. I do see them, but I'm just a bit bogged with uni/life at the moment. Hopefully will write a lot more soon!

Also, thank you thank you for all the kind remarks/messages. You guys are amazing. Any suggestions for part 2? Let me know in the comments 🖤🖤🖤

Aemond/HotD taglist: @aemcndtargaryen @cryztalline @fairaardirascenarios @blackravena @vensidia @xinyourdreamsx @mrswhitethornbelikov @mikariell95 @thermiting @witchofthenorthstar @m00n5t0n3 @booknerd2004 @throughgoeshamilton @xcallmetaniax @wrendermeuseless @m-indkiller @graykageyama @nsainmoonchild @milemarianne @immyowndefender @moonmaiden1996 @caspianobsessed @schniiipsel @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @random-human02 @icarusignite @flourishandblotts-inc @siriusdumblittlepuppy @just-a-harmless-patato @moni-cah @boofy1998 @huntycola @angel6776 @sanguinalia @thelastcitysposts @daeneeryss @wondergal2001 @huntycola

[iamvegorott]

Meeting A Magical Man Pt. 59

Part 1: Link Prev: Link Next: Link

“Spider-Man. Taylor Swift. Joker. Britney Spears.” Mad named off the pictures Phantom and Jackie showed him, treating it like a flash card quiz. Mare sat on the couch while the other three were on the floor, watching them with a smile. “Deadpool. Beyonce.” Chase and Marvin were also watching but were standing beside the couch.

“Hey, Marv, can I talk to you in the kitchen?” Chase asked, feeling happy and confident with how peaceful the past few days have been. 

“Of course, darling.” Marvin stepped away with Chase. “What’s on your mind?”

“You’re amazing.” Chase started with what he had tried last time.

“Starting with compliments is always welcome.” Marvin giggled.

“You’re amazing, smart, and kinder than you want people to…believe.” Chase’s last word trailed off when he saw Al walking past them with a sock in his mouth.

“I feel like you’re about to ask me a big favor,” Marvin said. 

“No, no, it’s just that…every day I’m-”

“Is that my sock!?” Mare’s shout cut Chase off, and Al ran between him and Marvin.

“Albert! No!” Mad yelled, and a second later, he was running between them. Then it was Mare, and after a good laugh, Phantom was running through. 

“So…um…how are we doing?” Jackie asked, awkwardly rocking on his feet.

x~x~x

“I’m thinking of painting the walls, maybe a dark red? A maroon?” Phantom said as he gestured in the empty room. 

“Maybe paint three walls dark gray and have an accent wall with maybe a more reddish burgundy?” Marvin suggested. “You can have the bed be against the accent wall.”

“Oh! I like that idea.”  

“Beep, beep, coming through.” Chase sang as he walked backward into the room, he and Jackie carrying a mattress in. They had surrendered their shirts a while ago since they had brought everything into the house and were now working on putting them in the correct rooms. 

“What a view~” Marvin giggled, looking at Chase’s ass. 

“Wait for it.” Phantom held out the last word until Chase had passed, and they could see the back of Jackie. “Now that’s a view.” He said and got himself and Marvin to giggle more. 

“Eyes up here, boys,” Chase said, pointing to his eyes before he and Jackie started laughing.

“Mare needs help with the couch,” Mad said, peeking in. 

“I got it,” Jackie said with a nod to Chase, and he stepped out, Phantom following him. 

“This is a cute little house they found,” Marvin said, handing Chase a handkerchief for his forehead, seeing that he was sweating.

“I bet we’ll still see them at the house more often than not.” Chase chuckled, wiping his brow and pocketing the handkerchief. “With Mare still living with us.” He added as his explanation. 

“Phantom acts like he’s annoyed at his brother, but it’s clear he loves him and doesn’t want to not see him again like before,” Marvin said. “But I bet he’s happy to be able to continue his relationship with a little more peace.”  

“Yeah…and…” Chase cleared his throat and took hold of Marvin’s hand. “You’re amazing.” 

“And so are you.” Marvin smiled.

“You’re amazing, smart, and kinder than you want people to believe. Every day, I’m happy to wake up next to you, and-” 

“Marvin! Marvin, come in here!” Mad called out, voice showing he was excited about something.

“We’ve been summoned.” Marvin squeezed Chase’s hand and walked with him to the living room. “Oh, wow.” He giggled at Phantom and Mad sitting on the couch while Mare and Jackie held it up. 

“We just need some crowns.” Phantom grinned. 

“Wait, you’re missing someone.” Marvin went over and sat between Mad and Phantom, feeling the couch dip a little before Mare and Jackie adjusted and got it back up in the air. 

“Really? Trying to make this even harder?” Mare clicked his tongue. 

“Wait! Incoming!” Chase ran over and jumped.

“Chase!” Marvin squeaked before Chase landed himself on top of all of them and caused Mare and Jackie’s hold to falter and drop the couch. 

“Whoops.” Chase laughed as Marvin playfully drummed his stomach while Mad messed up his hair, and Phantom stole his shoes and threw them across the room. 

x~x~x

“Get him! Beat his ass!” Phantom’s voice echoed from the other room. 

“How is he winning by just spamming?” Jackie laughed

“Talent!” Mad laughed with him. 

“Luck.” Mare corrected. 

“Sounds like they’re having fun,” Marvin said as he dried off the plate Chase handed him. 

“I’ll kick all their asses in that game when we finish.” Chase chuckled, rinsing off the last plate.

“I look forward to seeing you destroy them.” Marvin sat the dried plate down and kissed Chase’s cheek. 

“Before that…I’ve been trying to tell you something for a while.” Chase sat the wet plate down and took both of Marvin’s hands. “You’re amazing.” 

“I’m going to get that tattooed with how many times you’ve said it.” Marvin teased.

“You’re amazing, smart, and kinder than you want people to believe. Every day, I’m happy to wake up next to you, and I feel like I’m a better person because I’ve met you.” Chase held Marvin’s hands tighter. “I’m terrible at words, and I’m always afraid of jinxing what we are and what we have, and I want to always be by your side-”

“You sound like you’re proposing.” Marvin nervously laughed. 

“That’s Jackie’s plan.” Chase blurted out.

“Jackie’s going to propose!?” Marvin nearly shouted. 

“You’re what!?” Phantom properly shouted. 

“Chase! Dude!” Jackie shouted as well.

“Sorry!” 

x~x~x

Chase, Phantom, Jackie, and Mare stood together in the yard while Marvin and Mad were a few feet away, softly talking to each other before nodding, and Marvin went to stand with the others. 

“I know I shouldn’t be worried, but I am,” Mare said, foot tapping.

“Calm down, or you’ll make Mad nervous and ruin this.” Marvin put his foot on top of Mare’s. 

“I’d calm down if you gave me details about what you two have been working on. ‘It’s cool’ doesn’t tell me much.” 

“Just breathe and watch.” Marvin got off of Mare’s foot. “It’s going to be cool.” 

“Have some faith in your man.” Phantom teased, bumping his hip to Mare’s.

“I have faith,” Mare said, and when he noticed Mad looking at him, he smiled at him. 

Mad perked up and smiled back. He then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. There was a pause, the air going still, and when Mad opened his eyes, they were glowing a soft orange. 

“Is that-” Chase’s question caught in his throat when Mad’s body suddenly burst into flame. 

“Stay!” Marvin told the others when they were about to take off. 

“I’m a firecracker!” Mad threw his hands in the air. 

He was fine. He was perfectly fine. 

The flames were part of his body. They weren’t harming him at all, moving with him and almost dancing to the beat of his heart. 

“Holy shit!” Jackie was bouncing. 

“Dude!” Chase bounced with him. 

“Wow,” Phantom said in awe. 

“He…He has control.” Mare whispered before laughing out of pure joy. “He has control!” 

“Good job, Mad!” Marvin cheered as Mare ran over and hugged him. The flames wrapped around Mare as Mad hugged him back. They appeared like they were holding him as well. 

“He’s worked so hard to do that,” Marvin said to Chase, eyes soft with pride and placing both hands over his heart.  

Chase looked at Marvin and felt his own heart swell at how happy Marvin looked. How much he’s put into helping Mad, making sure he had the mentor he never got. Late nights rambling to himself about how to teach Mad, make it make sense, and do everything that needed to be done without hurting him. And he did it. He’d proven that he was a great mentor. 

“Chase?” Marvin saw that Chase was staring at him.

“I love you,” Chase said the words without a thought. They came out naturally, and that made them feel even better to say. Marvin froze for a second before placing his hands on Chase’s face.

“I love you, too,” Marvin said and pulled Chase into a kiss. 

----------

Tags: @brokentimewatch @bookwormscififan @d-structive @rainymae523 @ashtonisvibing

[garrickxvelour]

as the temperatures in merrock continue to climb higher and higher (as warm as maine tends to get), garrick is soaking up the season in every way that he can.

answers to the prompts are under the cut!

What does your character think about summer? Are they a fan, or do they long for the colder, more temperate months?

Garrick isn't the biggest fan of summer. A casual enjoyer, but he's much more of a fan of the colder months. With his birthday in early November, he loves the fall and winter season. In all of their crisp morning and snowstorm glory.

2. Is there a certain food or cold treat that they reach for on a hot night when a regular dinner just won’t work?

Some ice cream always hits the spot. He doesn't have an insane sweet tooth, but he loves some savory flavors like coffee.

3. What about a beverage they enjoy in the summer?

A nice cold beer. A Corona or Blue Moon. While he has a wide array of favorite alcoholic beverages, when summer rolls around, it's only right to welcome the season with some beer.

4. Describe your character’s sense of style / fashion go-tos when it comes to the warm months.

His style during the summer could very much be described as something between mature frat boy and vacation dad. He’s stylish and takes care of his appearance—has an eye for color and the occasional accessory. Open button downs with floral or beachy patterns paired with shorts. Boat shoes and sunglasses and maybe a matching hat. Some comfy loafers for a night out.

5. What about what they wear to the pool or the beach?

He’s definitely breaking out his little swim trunks. His shorts for day to day wear or pool wear always are above the knee. He tends to prefer darker colors such as deep purples and plums, burgundies and maroons, but in the summer he does make a little exception. He has some salmon swim shorts in his arsenal.

6. Speaking of – if they’re at the beach, what is their favorite thing to do?

He parks himself under a large umbrella in a beach chair, water in one cup holder, a beer or another refreshing beverage in the other, and a book in his lap. He’s the type to take a dip in the water from type to time, but he’s too fair to be out in the sun without burning. Listening to the waves rolling in and seagulls calling is enough ambience to soothe him.

7. If your character had to choose, would they rather spend time at the pool, or at the beach?

As much as he enjoys both, I think growing up he spent more time at a pool in general and has so many fond memories associated with them. He appreciates the beach for what it is. Enjoys reading alone. But the social nature that comes with lounging by a pool supersedes that of a beach.

8. When they’re at the pool, are they a lounge around, soaking up the sun type, or in the water, causing chaos type?

Oh, a lounge around kind of guy for sure. Catch him drinking and striking up conversation, throwing charming smiles and flirting. He won’t get rowdy in the water unless someone instigates.

9. Outside of pool and beach fun, what is your character’s favorite summer hobby or pastime that they can’t wait to do?

He loves a good BBQ. A classic, big family and friend gathering. Cooking at a grill with a drink in hand, jumping into a pool, sitting around a fire pit, lighting sparklers. He’s romanticized it just a bit, but enjoys it all the same.

10. Are they big on vacations, or are they more of a staycation kind of person?

He loves a nice vacation. A habitual enjoyer of touring historic locations and rustic historic towns to match. He loves museums and sightseeing around cities and towns. He's been known to dabble with some outdoorsy escapades like kayaking and hiking.

11. When it comes to outdoor space, gardening, etc., what does your character do? Do they mow their lawn, do they have a garden, is their home full of plants?

He has some landscaping in the front of his house—some shrubs and flowers and simple plants. He isn’t the biggest gardener, but after years of tending to some simple crops on a farm, he has an eye for helping house plants flourish.

12. What is their favorite spot to spend time in Merrock that doesn’t include the public pool and the swim beach?

He really enjoys the market. The bustle of people moving about, buying goods and food from local sellers. Live bands playing on the street. The sense of community it lends.

13. If they had to pick one thing to say that they disliked about summer… what would it be and why?

The heat. As much as he likes the sunshine, high temperatures are sometimes too much for him and his northern upbringing.

14. What is your character’s favorite summertime memory? Whether it be from their childhood or their big kid years?

The first summer he spent in the states. All of his new friends from college once spent a weekend at someone's parents' house on a lake, skinny dipped in the water, and made s'mores, kissed under the stars and crashed in a heap of blankets and pillows. The quintessential "American" summer.

15. And lastly… what is one thing that they really hope to do this summer?

T watch the sunset on the beach while on a picnic. Even if he doesn’t have any company. He wants to take full advantage of not only living on the Atlantic again, but having beautiful beaches to enjoy.

[rileywrites]

For a prompt: Nile/booker, "OH you're jealous" thank you!!

Thank you for your prompt! Read on Ao3 here.

...

"Hurry the fuck up, Booker! You're going to miss her at this rate."

"You can't rush perfection, Nile." Booker steps out of the en suite, resplendent in a maroon suit and burgundy shirt. "How do I look?"

Nile curses Nicky's sense of fashion. He picks outfits for Booker to torture her.

"You look good, Book. You'll knock 'em dead." Nile hands him his comm, and Booker hooks it to the wire he's wearing. "You good on weapons?"

"Boot gun, various knives, and several tranquilizers, just in case." Booker squares his shoulders. "Are you worried about me, Nile?"

Nile shrugs. "Nope. Just making sure. Run over the plan for me."

"I go in, meet Ms. Danvers, woo her with my 'obnoxious French charm,' to quote you, and get her alone and talking. Get as much info on her husband as I can, get in, get out." Booker waggles his eyebrows. "Do what needs doing."

Nile scoffs and smacks him in the arm. "Fucking rude. Go on, get, before she gets to the bar."

"Will do." Booker winks. "You got my six?"

"Always, you asshole. Go."

Nile gives Booker a head start, checking her own weapons (shoulder holster for her Glock, thigh knives, etc.) and pulling on her suit jacket to cover everything. Nicky and Joe have their eyes on the building from the front, so she's on bar duty.

Yay.

Booker is leaning on the bar when she walks in, so Nile posts up at a high-top table with a clear view.

The target enters, a beautiful woman of around forty-five in a slinky green dress. She's clearly on the prowl, and Booker is easy bait.

"May I buy you a drink, mademoiselle?" Booker asks, accent thicker than usual.

You can tell that she's American, because she finds the title endearing instead of insulting.

"That would be lovely, thank you." She holds out a hand, wedding band conspicuously absent. "Natalie."

Booker kisses it instead of shaking it. "Sebastien."

"He is so good with women," Nicky says in Nile's ear. "I will never understand."

"That is because you are an old gay man, habibi."

Nile shushes them and orders a drink. She's going to need it if she's going to watch Booker flirt.

"Do not frown, cara. You look too pensive."

Nile sticks her tongue out in the direction of Nicky's sniper scope. No one fucking asked him.

"So, what brings you to town?" Natalie asks, crackling in the wire.

"Business," Booker says. "My firm is closing a deal with a new client, and they wanted me here to help tie up loose ends."

"Are you in advertising?" Natalie asks, perking up. She also leans in, pushing her voluptuous bosom in his direction.

Nile knows exactly what she's doing. It's quite distracting. Booker's gaze drifts down, and Nile grits her teeth.

The conversation gets flirtier and flirtier, all the way until Booker says something about having-

"A whole suite to myself, because my business partner was unable to join me. It's a shame, the room is beautiful." Booker sips his drink. "It's wasted on me all by myself."

It isn't subtle. He isn't trying to be.

"We can't have that," Natalie says, fluttering too-long eyelashes. "Would you like some company? You can show me this beautiful suite yourself."

Hook, line, and sinker. Booker is damn good at his job.

Nile is grateful that he doesn't run point on honeypot stings more often.

"Get in, get the information, get out," Joe reminds him over the comm.

Booker nods slightly, making eye contact with Nile over Natalie's head as he guides her out of the bar and toward the bank of elevators.

Depending on how much this bitch talks, how much information Booker is able to get, they might be able to make an early night of it.

…

Two hours later, Nile has given up on standing in the adjoining room and is sitting against the door between the suites.

"…and it's been months since he's taken me out. He's constantly on business trips, Dubai one week, Moscow the next, Hong Kong, DC, Rio." Natalie sniffles. "He always brings me gifts, diamonds and furs and things, but nothing is as good as the attention I would get if he loved me."

"It's the diamonds," Nicky says. "Andy was right, he's hiding the money in his wife's jewels."

Thank fuck. After this long, surely they have everything they need.

"You deserve to be treated well," Booker says, gentle and genuine.

The sap has gone and empathized with the wife of a known criminal. Nile knew he was too soft for this.

"I cannot offer you a better marriage," Booker says. "But I can care for you tonight."

Nile grumbles as the comms fill with kissing noises. Fucking hell.

Miracle of miracles, they're interrupted by Natalie's phone ringing.

"Hello? Oh, yes, dear. Yes. You're coming into town early? You've got a present for me?"

Nile rolls her eyes, and she imagines Natalie doing the same.

"I can't wait to see it, my love. Yes, I'm out with the girls, but I'll be home in twenty minutes to meet you. Okay. I love you too. Twenty minutes. Goodbye."

Thank whatever deity is listening.

"Sebastien, you've been more than lovely." Kiss. "But I really must go." Kiss. "You've put up with so much shit." Kiss. "But he'll be mad if I'm not home."

"You should go. I don't want you inflaming his temper." Fabric rustles as Booker helps her into her coat. "Remember, you deserve better."

By the time he finally gets Natalie out of the suite, Nile is on her feet at the adjoining door, waiting with arms crossed.

Booker barely looks at her when she opens the door, already shedding his waistcoat and pulling the wire out from his shirt.

"Jesus, that woman knows how to talk. I know more about her life after two hours than I've known about actual romantic partners in the past." Booker loosens his tie further and opens his comm link. "Did we get it?"

"We got it," Nicky says. "Joe and I are signing off. Good luck."

"Good luck? What does he mean by - " Booker finally looks at Nile straight on. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh. I wasn't a fan of the gratuitous noises over the wire. You didn't have to kiss her."

"You didn't see her face. The poor woman is caught up in more than she realizes." Booker pauses, and something seems to click. "Oh. Oh. You're jealous."

"Pft, no. I just don't appreciate jobs being any longer than they have to be."

"This is more than that." Booker unbuttons his cuffs, and Nile forces herself to stand her ground. "Would you rather be in her position, ma belle?"

"Don't start shit you won't finish," Nile warns. "Don't tease me."

"I'm not teasing. I'm asking a valid question. Would you want to be in her position? The object of my flirtations, my… amorous attentions?"

"You are a pretentious asshole," Nile declares as she shoves him against the wall. "I hate your fucking face sometimes."

She uses the height advantage her shoes give her to kiss his dumb, smirky mouth.

For all his teasing, he wasn’t expecting that. It takes a second for his brain to catch up, but when it does his lips move against hers, his hands go to her hips, pulling her flush against him.

Even immortals have to breathe eventually, but Nile doesn't go far. She rests her forehead on his, arms wrapped around his stupidly-broad neck.

"If I had realized this was all it took, I would have taken Joe's duty as bait years ago." Booker laughs.

"Shut the fuck up," Nile says, breathless. "You're the worst."

"I may be the worst, but you love me for it," Booker says offhandedly, a throw-away line that Nile can't help but pick up.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do." Nile kisses him again, claiming his mouth. "I love you and your dumb fucking face."

Later, they’ll have to tell the others, there will be congratulations and surely some money will exchange hands. But right now it’s just them. And they have a hotel room to themselves for the rest of the night.

"You should show me your beautiful suite," Nile teases, unbuttoning Booker's shirt. "Would you like some company?"

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Never. Prepare for an eternity of teasing."

"With you? Happily."

[madamecaos]

Just co-stars

where Harry is in a movie and Y/N is his co-star and romantic interest.

Warning: a bit of angst, maybe fluff.

Just co-stars

“... Yes, it has been a lovely experience.” Harry, more than gratified with his answer, got comfortable into the lightweight chair, wireless mic hidden between the ruffles of his white prominent blouse. 

You never being the one fall behind, followed suit.

The movie ratings had gone splendidly, the audience loving the instant connection between the young pair that played a stranded couple on the verge of divorce in a rom-com, if one could call it that since it’s plot didn’t derive of comedy. Their genuine like for each other obliged with every checklist within the genre; like-able, clumsy-ish and yet, relatable, or at least you read in the latest Teen Vogue article.

“It couldn’t have gone better.” You added into the conversation and the interviewer fleetly shuffled through her cue cards until landing on her next question.

The same bit of the same scene had to be repeated several times and already the sun of the next dawn was peeking through the bleary sash window. Enervation suffocated the atmosphere that encompassed through the crews’ bones and your eyelids, irritation running through every sentence and every word, even if scripted.

It was a tight fit and only the main crew, sound, camera and lighting were allowed in, other than you and Harry of course. A little apartment simulating the look of an impoverished studio in New York city found the main couple stranded between what they said and what they truly meant… oddly relatable.

Usually emotions coming from real places in your life helped you convey of faux ones, even if unrelated. This time, it was the opposite. 

You kept messing up the words, failing to comply with the emotion of the scene and the director was set on getting the perfect shot, a sequence of a fight and then a superficial reconciliation between the characters. 

In the end, it was mostly your fault at this point, even if that little stubborn part of yours tried to blame Harry just a little bit.

In a cold night on November, one of the producers set a little barbecue for the cast to bond and to know each other better before filming. This was set to be your first big project, only student films and local theater as your experience. 

Everyone, even the biggest Hollywood names had been overly friendly to you, especially Harry, who you surprisingly met before knowing you had the role in the audition.

After several table readings, he slightly kept you apart from others, arms around your shoulders or your hips, cold thick rings digging into your flesh lightly until they became warm for being close to you for too long. 

An improvised little bonfire was set in the middle of the reunion and Harry, as his usual affection, had his left arm around your shoulders, fingers undeniably tugging a curl around his fingers.

You weren’t really paying attention to the conversation around you, several drinks into your system and the fire in front of you romanticizing the cold night with flickering lights.

“So what now? ‘Will travel alone?” Ryan, one of the director’s assistant who had indubitably invited himself, tried to keep up with the light chat around him.

“I’m almost 30. I have to enjoy my free years while I can” He lowly commented to Ryan, a gray beret hiding rumpled curls that reached the slight stubble.

You felt yourself pulling away not knowing if he noticed.

Sometimes, in most cases, anger over hurt felt better. 

Anger meant blindness, realization and the possibility of nulling an attachment that wasn’t really there and yet, this bitterness didn’t feel yours. 

“All right, we’ll try this again. We have to finish this before the sun is completely out or we’ll have to do this tomorrow.” The director tilted his head down and promptly looked at you through the upper rim of his glasses. “We good?”

A nod was your only response and handed the script to the makeup artist lightly powdering your face for the seventh time this night, well, now morning. 

Harry stood up from the hole-covered maroon loveseat and went back to the center of the dimly lit living room, steps slightly shuffling over the burgundy aged carpet.  After that night filled with drinks and some indirect confessions, he hadn’t felt the need to interact with you outside of his line of work, other than niceties of a coworker being polite.

He was looking at you and for someone who’s overly expressive, he looked emotionless.

He was looking at you like he knew.

You returned his stare and got into position. 

“And action!” The director sat back and the room went silent.

“I came to find you.” Harry, in comparison to other takes, looked exhausted.

“Then, you found me.” You went towards the cabinet to serve yourself a drink as directed. “Want one?”

“No, I…”

You expected his line, one of the-if not the- easiest of his dialogue.

“I…”

“Want one?” You tried again with flushed cheeks as everyone’s stare was on the two of you; his feelings and your reaction.

“I-I…”

“No thanks? Then, more for me... Cheers.” The clink of your glass filled with a little bit of Iced Tea simulating was the only sound in the room for a while, the stare of the director intensifying.

You kept to the script, adrenaline forbidding you for another mess up by your part. Now it seemed like you and Harry exchanged roles.

“I…” 

“What? I what?” Exasperated and annoyed you went off script and expected the imminent cut by the director, but when you turned to face Harry, at your peripheral you saw the director’s hand rise up, crew on standby and cameras still rolling.

“I… dance with me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, confusion genuine.

He beckoned you to walk towards him, hand extended in invitation. 

This certainly wasn’t part of the script or the movie.

He tried again and your curiosity didn’t let you flee like your instinct obliged you to. 

“Please?” 

You took his hand, slender, ringless and yet opaquing yours by size. He gently pulled you closer until nothing but your clothing fit between you. His other hand guided your free hand onto his shoulder before encircling you, set position firm at your lower back. He pulled you even closer if possible until your body molded to his.

You hadn’t been so close to him for so long. Even after a long day on set, he smelled fresh with a hint of peppermint.

Warmth enveloped you and it brought you to that night beside the bonfire.

Harry started to slightly rocking the two of you, a slow and intimate pace set between a sea of people staring intently at your act.

His eyes didn’t leave yours but you didn’t feel like facing him so you tilted your head down, forehead brushing the hollowness of his cheekbone. 

“Why are we dancing?” You whispered, imagining that if you were to speak louder, the intimate bubble would burst.

He took a moment to answer, like he usually did, as if savoring the words to say was his favorite pastime. 

“I’m sorry.” He leaned back, obliging you to meet his eyes. “That’s why we’re dancing, because I’m sorry.”

“I don’t… You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Yet again, his stare was too intense for you to match, but he didn’t leave you with any options as he stopped the rocking and leaned back even more, separating you completely with hands still not letting you go.

“You know I do. What I said- back when… How’ve been treating you, is not what I feel.” 

You looked for an answer in his expression, not really understanding if his apology meant a chance to reunite what never was there in the first place.

You had a platonic friendship and nothing more. Did he want to go back to that, go back to nothing?

“It’s ok. Don’t worry about it.”

The two of you assumed back the position until you found your head leaning down on his chest, arms circling his waist and his encasing yours. 

His cheek now found a resting place at the top of your head and your eyes started to water.

Did he do this in front of everyone so you wouldn’t overreact?

...is this just part of the scene?

“Y/N…”

That certainly wasn’t the name of the character.

“Look at the sun.”

The two of you didn’t move for a bit as the sun of the next dawn peeked through the bleary sash window, painting the room in sunlight, seeing you two as close as the air would let.

“Did you know that the sun is a star?”

Of course your instinct was to roll your eyes and grin but you didn’t dare to move.

You didn’t feel like saying anything else... then everything felt warm. Everything felt right again.

“Ok, cut!”

“It couldn’t have gone better.” You added into the conversation and the interviewer fleetly shuffled through her cue cards until landing on her next question, not before Harry discreetly circled his pinky with yours.

“Yes, you could say...” He leaned in, promptly letting you know that another bad joke was coming. “... we were golden.”

A/N: Thinking about writing more about co-stars. Let me know if you would like to see more. Unrevised (as always).

Requests are open!

 Masterlist

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #201

“one for all, all for one. we are strong, we are one. we are one nemesis.”

Do you feel pressure to keep your life interesting? It's not interesting at all, so. I'd sure as hell like it to be. At what time in your life were you happiest? If it was in the past, would you want to go back and relive it, though still knowing all the things you know now? Like... early-mid-'17, maybe? That's when my recovering really kicked off. I wouldn't go back. Is there anyone who seems to always be under the influence of something when you see them or talk to them? Does it bug you? No. Have you ever found the blog of someone you knew in real life, but not very well? How did it change your opinions on them? No. Then again I've never tried to. What is something you are incredibly behind on? Politics. I'm more importantly (to me, lmao) half a year behind on Good Mythical Morning, believe that or not. I don't watch TV anymore so don't really care, but I'm massive seasons behind on Supernatural. What’s the last allergic reaction you had? Shit, right now with this seasonal business. I've been congested for weeks. What does it mean when you start eating less? What does it mean when you start eating more? If I eat less than usual, it'll always relate to weight loss, I assure you. I've worked to greatly improve on the latter, however; eating more generally means I'm extremely depressed. Or bored, but I've got enough discipline by now to not eat if I'm not hungry. Is there anything you feel the need to organize by chart? No. What’s your opinion on mid-day naps? Go for it, it's good for you anyway. When’s the last time you spontaneously made plans? With who/to do what? Who knows; I don't have people to spontaneously make plans with. What’s the strangest named pet you’ve ever had? Probably Harry Potter the guinea pig. Or the fact I had a Chinese water dragon, green lizards, named Shadow. Okay look he was my second pet and I was little. What are some defense mechanisms you find yourself using when in an argument with someone? It's very likely I'll try to be totally factual and short without true thought as a fear reaction of losing the person, while on the inside I can be in a total panic attack. Do you know if there is anyone who was once important to you that you will never talk to again, even though you could? I absolutely will not speak to my former best friend unless completely necessary for whatever reason. Do you and your boyfriend or girlfriend fight a lot? Not at all. Have your parents ever told you that you couldn’t hang out with a certain someone? No. Have you ever cleaned up someone else’s vomit? I. Absolutely. NEVER will. I will absolutely hurl. Does your boyfriend or girlfriend get mad/jealous when you talk about the opposite sex? Nope. What was the last R-rated movie you watched? Halloween, I believe. Have you ever painted a car? No. Are there any gnomes in your yard? No. I've never understood the appeal of them at all... Do you have a funny last name? Does anyone make fun of it? No. Are the blankets that are on your bed now made by someone you know in life? No. Have you ever been pulled over by the cops for speeding? No. Have you ever met someone in person that you met online? Sara! There're others I hope to one day, too. Have you got any half or step siblings? Four halves, one step. Do you like kids’ movies? Not tiny kids (like, Barney and such type of things), but "kid movies" like Disney and such, hell yeah. Have you ever been kicked out of somewhere? No. If you have younger siblings, how old were you when your siblings were born? I was just over two years old. Do you sometimes use your music player to help you fall asleep? No. I did that in... I think middle school and some of high school, though. I have NO idea how I used to be able to do that. The last time you burned your tongue or mouth, what were you eating? I'm not sure. Are there a lot of trees in your yard? Not in the yard, no. There's a good number just beyond our fence, though. What was the high and low temperature where you live today? Phone says 31*F and 50*F. Have you ever made ice cream out of snow? Snow cream, yeah. That's a common southern treat when it actually snows. What’s the coldest you remember ever walking outside in? Maybe single digits? What’s your least favorite color? Puke green. Or maybe bright yellow (pastel is pretty). …and your favorite? Pink. What’s your second favorite color? Maroon or burgundy. How many pairs of gloves do you wear in the winter? Usually zero. What’s one thing that most people complain about that you love? COLD WEATHER. What do you remember the most about recess at school when you were a kid? Oh boy... when my meerkat obsession began, I unintentionally started a trend of digging "burrows" with others in the sandbox. Our nails by the time we were done, holy shit. I LOVED doing it. What color are your kitchen chairs? A mess of beige hues with floral stuff on it, I think? I just know they're hideous and we all hate them. I don't really pay any attention to what the cushions really look like, though. Have you ever dated anybody online? *points to Sara* Do you listen to instrumental bands such as Hammock, Trentemoller, etc.? Nah. Were you ever a 'secret admirer’ before? No. Ever stalked someone? No. Do you poke a lot of people on Facebook? Is this even a thing still? But I didn't, no. What was even the point. What’s the farthest you’ve ever been from home? Illinois. Have you ever been close to getting kidnapped? Oh um no. Never seen this one on a survey before. Do you have any eating disorders? No, thank god. Do you plan on getting married? I hope so. What is one of the saddest novels you’ve ever read in your lifetime? First thing that came to mind was The Giver. I'm sure there's others on par with or sadder than it, but it's just the first that came to me. Orbit or 5 gum? I think I prefer 5? Ever had a friend online for a long time without seeing a photo of them? Many. The last time you threw up, what caused it? An ex-med I was on that had a strong side-effect of vomiting. Quit that. Did you have any foreign exchange students at your high school? Maybe? Idk. Any foods from other countries you would like to try but haven’t yet? I'm sure there's something somewhere, but nothing that comes to mind. Do you think the world would be more peaceful without any religion? I think that's fact... I'm not saying religion itself is bad, no, but I think everyone can agree there'd be more peace without it. Have you kept the same icon here for a long time? Yeah; I don't take nearly enough pictures to have a new one, though I wanna change it because WOW do I look like a bitch. Why did you choose your icon, anyway? I thought the picture itself was decent, and it let my inner goth pop out a bit. If only I had the wardrobe and dedication. Any fun facts (on any topic) you’d like to share? Well here's your meerkat one: Meerkats are the second-most social animals on Earth, falling just behind naked mole rats. Does it hurt your feelings when people talk shit about things you love? "Hurt my feelings" isn't the right word; I feel embarrassed. Do you like it when people give you nicknames? Yeah, actually. Even just calling me "Britt" makes me feel like we're closer or something. More personal ones though, I really like. When you make friends, are you usually the one to "make the first move"? Definitely not. What fandoms are you in? Like, A LOT, but actively, Markiplier, a few other YouTubers, Silent Hill, Shadow of the Colossus, World of Warcraft, and meerkats. Maybe more, idk. I lose count. I would say Spyro, but I'm totally uninvolved in some areas of it, like Skylanders. Are there any fandoms you used to be in, but left? I wouldn't say left, just lost a considerable amount of interest, like Good Mythical Morning and  PewDiePie. Used to watch every day, and now both are seldom. Do you more often feel superior or inferior to others? Inferior. Do you prefer ruffly or regular potato chips? Ruffled, definitely. Can you do any impressions? Not of a specific person. Do you carry pepper spray? Have you ever had to use it? No. Best thing to do during a power outage? Play a horror game as my laptop's battery dies lmao. At night, anyway. During the day, idk. Has your power ever gone out for more than a day? I don't believe so. When was the last time you had a headache? What about stomachache? Headache, I believe once when Sara was here early this month. Stomachache, not that long ago. Which one of your classes goes by the slowest? N/A The last time you walked somewhere, who were you with? Probably at Sara's down the path. Maybe something later, but idr. Where is your second home? Sara's is the second house I'm most comfortable in besides my own. Or maybe Dad's, idk. What did you last have a conversation with one of your siblings about? Idr. Do you have the person you hate the most on Facebook? No. How many times did you clean out your text inbox today? I don't clean it out. Well, I have once or twice while trying to make space on my phone. What’s something you would do drunk but never do sober? I have a feeling I'd be way more open than I'd like. Have you ever had a night that’s been hands down the best night of your life? If so, describe what happened? I'm not sure. What time do your parents normally get home from work? Dad, idk. I don't live with him. Mom, it varies greatly, but typically 8:30ish. Is family the most important thing in your life? If not, what is? My definition of family (only includes people who I feel are emotionally family), yes. Or my mental health. Is writing something that you enjoy doing? Ha ha obviously. —would you rather read or write? Write. Would you rather draw or take photographs? Take photos. Do you prefer black and white or color photographs? Why? I can't pick a side; changes in color can seriously alter the emotions of the shot, making neither superior to the other imo. Both are beautiful, some moreso than others, depending on the composition. What was the last thoughtless thing you did? I'm not sure. What is one movie you’ve seen, but few others have? A lot of "idk" in this one. Off the top of my head, the kids movie Napoleon wasn't popular in America, I think? —how about a movie you haven’t seen, but many others have? The entire Harry Potter series. What is something you do subconsciously? Play with my lip ring. Who was the last person to toy with your emotions? *shrugs* When was the last time you cheated at something? I have no clue. what’s the most money you’ve received from the ‘tooth fairy’? I think $5? Describe the main problem with your last relationship? I didn't like him in that way. When was the last time you debated with someone? Some time ago with Sara about a political view. And mind you it was a friendly debate, not an argument as apparently all are nowadays. What cartoon/anime character can you most relate to? There's too many characters to think through. Do you have any pictures of celebs saved to your computer? Leave me and my Mark icons-in-the-making alone. Do you have your own personal water jug? If so, where did you buy it? No. How do you get rid of your hiccups? Nothing works for me. When you sneeze, do you sneeze into your hand or the inside of your elbow? Elbow. What actor/actress do you find weird? Lol I'm not to judge there. What’s your ultimate favorite bagel? Just a normal one with a moderate amount of cream cheese. Do you have a blister anywhere on your body? No. Do you get manicures/pedicures regularly? I never do. When was the last time you saw the person you had your first kiss with? February '17. What was the most severe punishment your parents gave you when you were growing up? She'd spank me and/or say I was grounded for a week, which always only lasted like a couple days or so. What’s something you’re really bad at compared to others? Like, any kind of math. Who is the person you are the closest to? (emotionally, not physically) Mom or Sara in different ways. What are some odd habits you have relating to food/eating? I'm picky as fuck with texture. I'm particular with food in general. Last furry thing you touched: My kitty. <3 What do you check out first when you check someone out? I've never really paid attention... I mean, it probably depends on the person, what catches my attention most? Have you ever kissed someone in a band? No. Would you raise your children like your parents raised you? In some ways, in other ways no. Has someone ever made you a Build-A-Bear? No. Are you donating your organs? Yup. Did your mom or dad ever put soap in your mouth? No, but Mom threatened it. Have you ever dated someone with more piercings than you? No. Who was the last person you spent more than 15 minutes on the phone with? My dad. Have you been swimming in the last six months? How long ago was the beach trip... idr. Maybe. What hair color looks best on you and what’s your natural color? From what I've had so far, I love red on me. My natural color is brown. What is your favorite show to watch? That '70s Show is something you can always put on and I'll pay attention. Like, I'm never /not/ in the mood to watch it if I have to watch TV for whatever reason. Do you wear necklaces? Rarely. Do you blush easily? Yup. ;-; Are you an artist/writer? Not professionally, but I do both. Are you in love? If so, does the one you love know? Yes and yes. Are your maternal/parental instincts strong? With kids, not at all. At all. Instead, I have them big time in serious, romantic relationships; I have the biggest "PROTECT PROTECT TAKE CARE FOR THEM AND PROTECT AT ALL COSTS" instinct. ACTUAL mama bear. Is there someone in your life whose career/life choices you find immoral/unethical? Have you ever told that person your views? Do you find it difficult to support them (emotionally or otherwise) because of their choices? Does anyone not have this kind of person in their life? Anyway, I've maybe said so casually and gently where it was relevant, but I'm not positive. Of course it's hard to support them, and sometimes I simply can't, ex. with my former best friend. What trait do you feel you lack that you wish you possessed? INDEPENDENCE. I'm borderline on the diagnoses of dependent personality disorder with how I have a very difficult time making my own choices and doing lots of things on my own; it's a serious problem with my mom, and I worry how I'll be when I no longer live with her, really. Like, she still schedules my appointments, makes some serious phone calls I'm scared doing myself (but sometimes she can't with me being an adult), she handles just... a lot. Have you ever considered writing your memoirs? No. Do you find it difficult to stay invested in online relationships? Not at all, romantic or platonic! My online buds mean just as much, some even more, than my "real life" ones. Are you the type of person who pays close attention to the release dates of movies, music, etc., and will, for example, go see a movie or buy an album on the date it is released? If so, when is the last time you did so? Not on a lot, but for things I'm really hyped for, particularly games and music, yeah. For the second part of the question, yes. I did that for WoW's Warlords of Draenor expansion, and maybe Legion? Idr tho because I was nervous asking my mom. I also think I mighta seen the Warcraft movie the day it came out, but I'm also uncertain. Have you ever been in trouble for illegally downloading something? No. Do you have any stickers on your laptop? No. Would you rather have a job for which you had to go in early in the morning or one you had to stay late into the evening at? Early, defs. Whenever I work, I'm certainly aiming for a morning shift. Get it over with, and plus, I'm in a better mood in the mornings, so it'd be easier to get work done; plus, getting out of the house is a good way for me to come home and actually feel like I got my dose of social interaction for the day, so now I can enjoy the rest of the day. Is there someone who seems to only reach out to you when they want something from you? No; I don't tolerate that shit. Do movies often make you cry? What kind of films/scenes make you tear up most? Yeah. Tragic romantic things get me easily, and seeing someone die and another character lose it over their death kills me. Happy reunions are tear-jerkers, too. I would probably still cry at the end of Homeward Bound. How did your expectations of the last book you read compare to your thoughts after reading it? What about your expectations of the last movie you watched? The original Alice In Wonderland was a book I was surprised to be that short, and it wasn't really as "out there" as I'd expected. I still enjoyed it, though. Last movie... that was Elf. I didn't anticipate it being as damn cute and funny as it was. Do you use any apps to track your health or medications? Just to track my period. Whose opinions/recommendations do you value most? Sara's. If you could’ve been at any historical event, which would you have liked to witness firsthand? Perhaps the first Thanksgiving? OH, but I would without a doubt choose the extinction of the dinosaurs if I was somehow entirely protected. That had to be, sad as it is, visually incredible. Is there something that you really want to do but are afraid of doing? If so, why are you afraid of doing it? Rollercoasters; I'm terrified of vomiting, however, and also fainting with how I handle dizziness. What is something society “expects” you to do that you don’t want to do and/or don’t plan on doing? Don't expect me to dress up all fancy going to an expensive restaurant or something. I'm going to eat, I'm not worried about my damn clothing. But more than anything, I absolutely refuse to let a job hold me back from getting tatted or pierced. I'm perfectly aware that really slims down my options, but I sincerely couldn't care less. I'm not bending to one of the most ludicrous expectations I know of. Are you interested in architecture? Is there any particular style that you’re drawn to? Yeah! I ADORE gothic especially, and Roman, too. What’s the most stalker-like/creepy thing you’ve ever done? If you don’t think you’ve done anything like that, what’s the most stalker-like thing someone’s done to you? Lol I should really have an answer for this, considering the breakup... I don't believe I did anything "stalker-ish," maybe not even creepy, just rude and nosy. Sorry for trying (but thankfully failing) to hack your Facebook to see if you were talking to a girl some time early into the breakup, Jason. ;_; Reeeaaally regret that. What is something you can only understand if you’ve experienced it first hand? Pure heartbreak. It is absolutely, utterly agonizing. Are you more of an open person or a private person when it comes to talking about personal things? (Relationships, your sex life, finances, etc.) It depends on the subject, but usually, I am very private, particularly irl. I'm more open online by a long shot. Do you agree or disagree with the saying “If two former lovers can remain friends, either they were never in love, or still are.”? Why or why not? That's bullshit. People change, and you can lose romantic interest. What’s a part of yourself, physically, that you’re unhappy with? (Hair, face, skin, body part, etc.) Is it something you’re able to change or something you’re stuck with? Uh, pretty much everything because of weight? I can change that and am trying so hard to, but I've been at a stagnant weight for over a damn year, and I can't even begin to wonder how. It dropped like flies in '17. Do you think it’s a double standard that a woman can hit a man and expect to get away with it, but if a man hits a woman it’s assault? DOUBLE. FUCKING. STANDARD. Fight the hell back to protect yourself. In terms of a wedding, put these things in order from what would be MOST important to be perfect, to LEAST important… Engagement ring, dress, hair, venue, ceremony, food, pictures, decorations, honeymoon. Ceremony, pictures, honeymoon, dress, venue, hair, ring or decorations, food. Do you have a go-to small talk conversation topic? Asking how they've been. Does anyone owe you money? Do you owe anyone money? (Besides credit cards) No. Well, I owe my previous college money, anyway. Even though I shouldn't, so Mom's trying to take legal action with that and their shitty communication. If someone was going to buy you any practical gift (anything except a house or car), what would you choose? A sum of money for a big 'ole tattoo, boys. Is there a quote that’s helped you through hard times or really stuck with you? What is it? "You're perfectly flawed" from an Otep song. I have that tattooed for a reason. Then there's countless ones from my partial hospitalization, but "Deal with life, or life deals with you" particularly will stick out to me probably forever. There's loads more. What’s something practical and useful “real world” things that should be taught in high school aside from the basics like English, math, science, etc.? CHRIST, why the FUCK do we not have classes teaching us how to handle the adult life with things like finances. What are some things that a person or couple could do that would show they’re insecure about themselves or their relationship? More than anything probably, go through their phone. ACTUALLY fuck off. Do you have sympathy for people who die as a result of their own actions? (Example: someone doesn’t wear a helmet when they ride their motorcycle and they get in an accident and die.) Well of course; a human being still died, and maybe it's even sadder when it was in their own hands. It's disappointing, but you should of course feel sympathy. What’s your favorite old Disney movie and favorite new Disney movie? Old, The Lion King. New, there's SO many to choose from, so I can't give a certain answer, but possibly Coco. I adored that movie. Name something “trendy” or popular that you dislike. I don't pay attention to what's trendy, really. Idk. Oh wait, is that "Kiki Do You Love Me?" or whatever that trash is called still around? There’s a quote that says “Anyone who gave you confidence, you owe them a lot.” Is there a person who YOU can thank for your confidence? Hm... I'm not sure about this quote. But anyway, I don't even have confidence to begin with. “Dirty talk” in the bedroom…love it, like it, don’t care, dislike it, or hate it? Usually like, particularly if we're being extremely passionate. I'm suuuuper shy delivering it, though. Hell, I get flustered hearing it towards me sometimes, too. What is/are your favorite type(s) of ethnic food, and what’s your favorite food within that type? American. Favorite... I think cheeseburgers. Would you be more hurt by your significant other having a long drawn out emotional affair but never having sex with that person OR a long drawn out physical affair where it was just lots of sex and no (or few) emotions attached? The first, my reasoning being for them to be emotionally invested in another person says more about how much they "love" me versus the latter option. I dunno... the second is awful, too. Tough question to answer. Say one positive thing and one negative thing about your boss (or any other authority figure). I'll pick my mom. Positive: Her support is never-ending. Negative: She's "always right." How would you describe your relationship with your hair over the years? I've grown more and more comfortable with it as I've grown bolder with cutting it. How do you practice truly living in the moment? I'm bad at this... Do you think most abusers know they’re being abusive? Probably, especially if it's physical. How do you feel about your SO daily/regularly checking up on a couple of his exes on social media? That'd be pretty suspicious, but then again, I can't really talk? One of my best friends/my ex is still a very good friend of mine, and we talk every now and again with no romantic interest (at least on my end; idk if he still like-likes me). That being said, I don't know how I'd feel, especially if it was daily. I do know I'd be less anxious if our relationship was strong and steady. What perfume of yours does your SO love on you? She doesn't like perfume, and I almost never wear it anyway. Have you made any (at least semi-) permanent alterations to your appearance? If so, how did you find the experience and do you regret it? Tattoos, there's a visible hole where my first lip ring was, and the holes in my left earlobe have been seriously stretched (it goes to literally the bottom of my lobe) from heavy earrings for a long time. No clue how the right side is totally fine. Anyway, the only tattoo I regret is my "ohana" one, as it doesn't really suit me; I don't give a damn if you're blood, I choose my "real" family, but even then, people change. I know I'll get it covered at some point; right now I'm considering a bat tat on my chest with its wings expanded at some point, and it may conceal it, but it's not high on my to-do list. I love my "how rare and beautiful it is to exist," although I wish I'd made a more unique design of it instead of stealing it from Pinterest... ha ha. I don't want tattoos others have; I want mine to stand out. I also wish I'd chosen an even more professional artist to do my Markiplier piece, but I plan on going to a better parlor when I can afford it to get my vision "right." It's probably the most important tattoo I'll ever have, so I want it perfect in my eyes. My artist didn't do bad, not at all, it just came out with a less convincing-galaxy background. It'll be an easy fix with the right artist. Onto the lip ring, I regret deliberately wanting it slightly to the left and not dead-center through my lip. I have no idea why I wanted it there? You can still see the faint hole when I pull my lips back, which I hate. Lastly, I just HATE the appearance of stretched-out earlobes. I don't even wear earrings anymore with how they look like there's about to just fall off. Women with disabilities/anxiety/depression/other mental health issues/chronic illnesses, how do you get it across to your SO/friends that sometimes you just can’t do something? Why specifically women? But anyway, sometimes it's just impossible. I don't think anyone can really "get it" until you have a breakdown/accident or whatever in front of them. Do you prefer your guy to wear cologne or not? I like the smell of light cologne. Ladies, how important is it to you that your SO wears/would wear a wedding ring? I suppose it'd be concerning if they just didn't want to, but like if it doesn't fit or anything, of course don't try to wear it. What was the turning point that led you to decide for or against having children? First, I took a look at my mental health and capabilities and chose I would NOT be a good, healthy mother able to raise them. Also, aforementioned maternal instinct lacking. As well, I don't want to invest years into a person that might just wind up hating me. And super importantly, my alone time is extremely important, and thaaat's pretty impossible with kids. They're expensive. Peace and quiet, bye. Pressure to ensure they grow up to be a good, independent person. Yeah, there's lots of reasons I can confidently say no, I don't want kids. How do you feel about men who preface statements on non-gendered things with “as a guy”? *shrugs* It depends, I guess. Does anyone else just HAVE to wear pajamas/lounge clothes when you’re at home? I live in my pjs. Is having your “dream” wedding really that important to have? No. What would your reaction be if your SO wanted the opposite type of wedding than you did? Just compromise. Who says things have to match a theme. What kind if body type do you find attractive and unattractive (for your preferred sex)? Let's get this straight first: I don't care about appearances. But of course, that doesn't mean I don't have preferences. For girls, I'm really attracted to curvy women at a healthy weight. Men, I like just a tad bit muscular, but noooot very much. How do you feel about strangers approaching you with compliments? I'm flattered, but I will definitely get anxious, especially if it's a man. I'm more terrified than anxious if they do that. Do you consider it cheating if your SO goes to a strip club and then doesn’t tell you? Hm, not really cheating. I'd be preeeetty unhappy if my s/o did that and kept it a secret, but I'm not quite sure how I'd react to knowing they went to a strip club. I think most likely I'd just feel like I wasn't enough and cry. Maybe I'd be fine with it if they asked me beforehand how I felt and I had their word they wouldn't "do anything." Like it's simple fact that you can be in a relationship and still find others attractive, so I guess if you just wanna go out for once and I feel you're genuine when telling me you'll behave, it's not too big a deal? But I'm still not sure. Would you be more offended if your man cheated on you with a guy or a girl? I'll just pretend you said "your partner." Both would upset the hell out of me, but I think doing it with the opposite gender would most hurt me, especially because you're taking a risk of someone getting pregnant. Is there something you are afraid, embarrassed, or ashamed to tell someone? That I love/play World of Warcraft, lmao. Admitting I'm an RPer would be even worse. DON'T ask what my worst weight was. The Joel thing. There's probably loads more. Are you struggling in any way right now?  Oh, of course. When was the last time you made a REALLY stupid decision? Oh boy. Really bad... HA, actually, probably this one time I drank a milkshake too fast, and my stomach still hasn't forgiven me. Do you put candy canes on your Christmas tree? Sometimes. Have you ever written/drawn/painted random stuff on your bedroom wall? No. What do you currently hear? "Professional Griefers" by deadmau5 ft. Gerard Way. What’s your favorite flavor of Doritos? Cool ranch. Who was the last person to hold your hand? Sara. Do you have any clothing with animal print on it? No. Have you ever seen a hippo in person? I don't believe we have any at our zoo, no. What’s something you do too much? Sit here. In the bed. On my laptop. Fun. How often do you have nightmares? Rarely. What was the last thing you downloaded on your computer? A game on Steam. I can't remember which. Honestly, are you spoiled? I don't think so, at least not much. Is there anyone’s laugh that makes you laugh when you hear it? Mark's. Have you ever parked in a handicapped spot when you weren’t supposed to? I will lose all respect for you if you pull that shit. Do you have a tan yet? It's winter, and I don't tan anyway. Have you ever been told you have a bad attitude? I think my grandmother did once on the same occasion she called me a bitch. Do you make other people laugh often? I don't think so, no. What are some things you want out of life? Satisfaction with all I've done and experienced, more than anything. Do you feel bored with your life? Boy, do I. Who’s someone you miss that you haven’t talked to in years? Megan. Do you miss anyone who was mean to you in the past? No. What’s the most weight you’ve ever gained from a medication? No. No. No. Nope. Not answering. Stay the actual fuck away from Abilify. How do you get through hard times? Talking with/venting to Sara and/or Mom, watch my favorite YouTubers, listen to (usually relatable) music, and just remind myself if I survived '16, I can persist through just about anything. Rarely, I draw some vent art. Have you ever been suicidal? Yes. Do you pray? If yes, to whom? No. I don't believe it has any power, even with me believing in some kind of ultimate creator. What do you miss about high school? Friends. What do you miss the most about college? I was in a very bad mental state through both attempts, so I miss nothing. Did you like high school? I've hated school since I was in pre-k, dude. Have you ever been the victim of a crime? I don't think so? Is your life worse than you could have ever have imagined it to be? or is it better, or just what you expected? Worse. I mean it's not awful, but I expected muuuuch more by this point... What was the last good book you read about? Arthas' rise to the Lich King, and it hurt me okay I still wanna press charges against Christie Golden. What’s the last great song you discovered? "Natural Born Sinner" by In This Moment. Do you feel free to post how you feel on Facebook? Nope. I pretty much never post about myself because I'm too afraid of saying something stupid "in front of" all the people I call friends. AvPD is a blessing. What is the most beautiful landscape you have ever seen? Mountains. Who were your favorite celebrities as a child? Steve Irwin was everything to me. I also loved Jesse McCartney and the Backstreet Boys. Oh, Jeff Corwin, too. What do you miss the most about your past? No mental illnesses. .-. Do you like getting older? At my current age, I don't really care... What hard thing are you going through right now, if applicable? The biggest thing currently is practically being chained to my house. I'm home alone almost everyday and usually all day, so day after day I'm just. Sitting here in this house by myself. Even as an introvert, it's gotten to a serious severity of loneliness and maddening boredom. I'm just gonna stop here before answering this any further ruins my day. Do you prefer slow songs or fast songs? Generally, more towards the fast side. Have you made any progress toward going after your dreams? Yeah, just teeny-tiny baby steps, sadly. What color is your trash can? Like, the big one you put on the side of the road for the dumpster? Dark green. What color is your dresser? Brown. Do you own a computer? If yes, is it a desktop or laptop? Yeah; laptop. How old were you when you first got a cell phone? I dunno, maybe the start of middle school? Do you like pineapple on pizza? You are a certified psychopath if you think that tastes good. No. What medication or drug has given you the worst withdrawals? I'm not sure. I've been on waaaaaaay too goddamn many to remember.

[storyteller15]

Chapter Seven: Spilled Tea and Cracked Macarons

As I entered the room, the warm sunshine flows over my skin. An enormous garden spread out elegantly before me like a painting on display, as it reflected the early morning sun.

I audibly gasped, but found no words to describe the beauty. To be honest, I expected to walk into an ordinary greenhouse with concrete floors and flowers aligned in different sized pots. How wrong I was. Instead, I walk into an enchanted botanical garden. It's as if I just stepped into another world; a world where no creature has ever set foot in.

There are so many different varieties of flowers and herbs growing among the beds; bluebells, orchids, chamomile, and even daisies. I even spotted plenty of hydrangeas growing along the glass walls and around a small fountain with a Cupid standing on some kind of pedestal, shooting water out of its hand.

As I began to walk, I notice the soft warm feel of the grass beneath my feet. I find it strange that this botanical garden had no stoned paths or anything hard to walk over. Just a whole lot of grass, the paths outlined with shiny rocks that sparkled like jewels. I don't think I want to leave this place. Whatever Asgore did to this garden, seemed to have me bonded here. The more I discover, the harder it was to leave.

Off in the distance a pristine white bridge arched lazily over a big pool. Two leafy arches stood one at each end of the bridge, and glowed in an odd burgundy maroon light. I even saw water shoot out from the pool forming three arch shapes. Feeling drawn to the leafy arches, I walked over to get a closer look. As I approached the arch, I was flabbergasted. The leaves are fake! Despite how realistic they appeared, they carried that rustic scent of a craft store. Hidden among them were strands of lights; the source of their unique glow. Nonetheless, it was still a beautiful sight.

I looked down at the water, watching my reflection dissipate when a bunch of multicolored koi fishes swimming under the lily pads, scavenging for whatever food they could find. I counted them all, finding at least fifteen of them. They're pretty big for a fish their size, but then again, they eat a lot anyway. The question is, how did Asgore manage to have these colorful carps? Maybe I'll ask him in another time when I see him again.

Suddenly, something caught my view. My eyes grew wide with shock and anticipation. "No way . . !"

I quickly crossed the rest of the bridge, running towards the radiant blue roses that grew near the bed of golden flowers. Just to be sure they're not fake, I gently stroked the soft petal with my delicate fingers. I gasped, they're real! They're absolutely real! But how? I asked myself. I thought the blue roses went extinct many years ago. I only saw pink, purple, orange, white, yellow, and black roses. Never blue. How on earth did Asgore manage to grow and save such a very rare colored rose?

Suddenly, I remembered what Nanny used to tell me when I was a child, 'If you love a flower, don't pick it up'. Of course, she probably read that quote from a book or a movie, but it is a reminder that we express our love for the flowers by appreciating it. And since then, I only look at the flowers and not pick them.

"What the heck is taking that smiley trash bag so long?" A voice growled, snapping my gaze away from the blue roses.

Who? What? I looked around to see if anyone one else was here, besides me. But there was no one.

"Why did I have to trust him to fetch me some food? I'm so tired of eating spaghetti! For once, I want something sweet for a change!" The voice complained, sounding as if they're close by.

I backed away slowly, trying as hard as I could to follow their voice. I know they're close by, I thought to myself. But there's nothing else here other than a bed of golden flowers with a circular patch of green grass in their center. My gaze stopped on the single flower that occupied the grass patch. It was yellow like the others, but possibly bigger than them.

"Ugh! All this waiting is starting to irritate me!" The flower shouted, making me gasp loudly enough for them to hear me, whipping their petal bordered face towards my direction. "What? Never seen a cranky, talking flower that's starving before?!"

I blinked, having a blank expression on my face. A flower. It's a talking flower. And it's speaking to me.

"No? But it sounds cool." I responded, walking towards the talking flower.

"What are you? An idiot? You’re definitely an idiot! Don’t you know better not to approach something you’ve never seen before? A little talking flower,” his face twisted into a malicious grin “could kill you right where you're standing.”

I shook my head slowly. The things a cranky flower could do when they're hungry.

"You know what they say," I sat down a few feet away from the flower. "It takes an idiot to know one. And my guess is, you're an idiot too."

The flower gaped at me as if I just insulted him. He opened his mouth, but closed it, unable to come up with a better comeback. I giggled and looked at the flower, but he turned his head away from mine to avoid my gaze. Is he mad?

"I'm Zafrina Alban. But you can call me--"

"Who cares? Idiot suits you better. You don’t listen. And you're wearing some kind of tarnished clothing." He spat out, cutting me off.

Heh. If he's going to try to agitate me, he'll have to do better than that. And I think I have an idea that'll have him soften up to me. Maybe a little.

"So, I heard that you're hungry right?"

"What are you deaf? Of course I am! Didn't you just hear me complain about how empty my stomach is at the moment?!"

"Well, I happen to have something that could be considered a snack before your meal gets here."

The flower's expression changes as if he's suddenly interested. "I'm listening."

Bingo.

"I have these sandwich cookies my mom baked me before I came here. The problem is, they're inside my room." The flower grimaced before I quickly spoke again. "However, there's a faster way to get it down here instead of going back up to go get them."

The flower made a smug expression. "What? Let me guess, you're gonna somehow make them magically appear above your hand? Pfft. You'd have to be an idiot to even try."

"Actually, yes. I am going to use magic."

"No way, you're bluffing!" He shouted, his fangs visibly bared. "No human can preform magic unless they're a--"

"A mage?" I finished his sentence for him. "Why yes, yes I am actually."

Before he could cut me off again, I laid out my palm, closing my eyes and called out to my magic by whispering a chant in an ancient language. In the background I hear the flower gasp as my magic begins to hum until I felt something appear over my hand. Slowly I felt my magic dissipate as I opened my eyes, finding Nanny's different colored macarons safely packed in a clear plastic bag, tied with a blue silky ribbon. They made it through the trip without breaking or melting. Thank goodness. In the corner of my eye, I notice the flower's eyes now twinkling with anticipation.

"Huh. You're not an ordinary idiot after all." He turned his head away to hide his flushed cheeks.

I can only smile at the flower. "Pretty much."

"So what? Are you gonna be a fatty and gobble them all up just to mock me?" His gaze pierces mine, hoping I'd say no.

"No, they're for you," His eyes twinkled. "But only if you introduce yourself."

"What? Pfft that's it? Well that's easy! Howdy! I'm Flowey, Flowey the Flower!" He beams, his voice sounded as if he's trying to force himself to be happy.

"Please to meet you, Flowey."

I pulled the ribbon, opening the bag as the sweet scent of the macarons began to make our mouths salivate. Flowey's eyes didn't leave the macarons as I pulled out a yellow one. I think yellow is supposed to be vanilla.

"Here you go," I said, holding the macaron in my outstretched palm.

Flowey looked at me like I was stupid. "As you can tell, I don't have any hands. You might as well feed it to me."

"Well I had to check in case you decide to get sassy with me for treating you like a baby." I challenged.

"Whatever, now hurry up and feed me, you idiot."

I chuckled softly and reeled my hand away from his face. "I suppose no one taught you manners?"

"I have, but I don't use them because they're a waste of time." He grumbles, slamming his head against the soft grass.

"It doesn't hurt to say it," I slowly laid my stomach over the golden flowers, not caring if my dress gets grass stains. "Even if they are a waste of time, it at least lets people know that you appreciate them."

Flowey opened his mouth again as if he wanted to insult me, but he closed it and finally gave up. "Fine . . . Can I have that thing . . . Please?"

"You're adorable," I gushed at him as he grumbles. "And these things are called macarons. They were invented in France; they're my favorite dessert to eat."

I extended my arm slowly, holding the macaron for him as he leaned forward slowly and snatched it with his mouth and chewed on it. My eyes didn't miss on how his eyes twinkled like stars after he swallows it. I couldn't help but chuckle. Despite the fact that his attitude is similar to a Tsunderplane, I can tell that he and I could manage to be friends.

"That was yummy," he crossed his arms 'leaves' looking to the side. "Can I have another? Or do I have to waste my time and use my manners again?"

"Nah, no need. Once is enough for me. Pick a color."

"Purple."

I chuckled, and dumped out the rest of the macarons over the grass, lifting the purple one up close to his mouth as before. We spent the last five minutes in silence as I continued to feed Flowey. He should smile more often, but I don't think he's the type that does. And I didn't mind that one bit. If you love a flower, don't pick it up. Even if this flower has thorns, I still look at him with appreciation.

"Why are you laying near me?" Flowey began to speak out of nowhere."Even though you have magic, don’t you think you should be afraid of me? What if I kill you when you let your guard down?"

"Now why would you do that? There's no reason for you to." I responded with my eyes closed.

There was a long silence. I opened one eye, finding him at loss for words. I chuckled and sat up, which made him flinch.

"I'm not going to hurt you. Besides, sometimes I don't like using my magic."

"What? Why?" He asks, looking puzzled.

". . . Because my magic is far too strong and dangerous. It nearly killed my next-door-neighbor's cat. And I was only twelve years old."

"Wait a sec, you weenies at that age shouldn't be that strong enough to hurt a fly. How is that possible for you--" He stops talking, his gaze leaving mine as if someone else was here.

"Flowey? What's wrong?"

"Howdy, my child," I gasped and looked over my shoulder, finding King Asgore standing over me. "I see you have met Flowey. Please do forgive him, he seems to have a bad habit of being rather rude."

"Hey, I have no soul remember? What do you expect from a flower like me?" Flowey responds in a rather irritated way.

He slowly lowered down a pot filled with dirt for Flowey to climb into, watching as his roots crawled into it. I noticed that Asgore was no longer wearing his cape and metal armor. Instead, he was wearing some kind of pink shirt in a flowery pattern with purple pants. I chuckled, he looks a bit goofy in it, but it suits him.

"Hello, Your Majesty," I stood up, sweeping the grass off my dress and curtsied. "I'm terribly sorry, I didn't mean to intrude your garden."

He lets out a chuckle, placing his large hand over my head. "You can call me Asgore, little one. Your mother and I are best friends. There's no need for you to be formal with me. And besides, anyone is welcome to the garden."

I suddenly lowered my head, feeling crestfallen. "That's the problem . . . You see, ever since the girls knew that Nanny is my mother, they suddenly see me as a threat. As if you and Toriel will influence Asriel’s choice because of that . . ."

"Ah, I see . . . I so badly want to say, 'would you like a cup of tea?' Why don't you join me and Flowey for some, little one? Perhaps we can continue our conversation from there."

My eyes widened a bit. Tea? I didn't want to tell him that I disliked tea, they don't really have that much taste to it. However, I didn't want to be rude and decline the offer. Asgore loves his tea. So, I responded with a smile and a nod.

"That sounds lovely, Mr. Fluffybu--" I gasped putting my hands over my mouth. Oops. "I-I mean Asgore."

His cheeks flushed red through his white fur and chuckled. "It seems my reputation precedes me. Your mother and my wife still goes on about it. Now, shall we?"

"We shall," I placed my hand over his rather large fluffy arm as we walked towards a large glass circular table with four big chairs that are rather large to fit his size.

Flowey remained quiet, but still looked rather irritated. Asgore pulls a chair out for me; as I sit on it, he pushes it forward a little before he takes his seat across mine. Flowey was set over the table between us. It didn't surprise me when Asgore's tea sets looked simple. Nanny did tell me that they're not much of a royal type to have things such as fancier dishes. They like to have them plain just to stay in their comfort zone.

"Here you are little one," Asgore spoke, pushing my filled teacup towards me. "Would you like one too, Flowey?"

"No, I don't want any. I prefer those macarons instead." Flowey spoke, eyeing the rest of the uneaten macarons I had scattered over the grass.

I chuckled and used my magic to pick up the rest of the macarons and placed them next to Flowey. And just like that, he beamed and used his vine to pick them up and place them inside his mouth. I gaped at him, he lied to me?! He looked at me and made a smug expression, waiting for me to get mad, but I chuckled instead.

I turned my gaze away from Flowey, focusing on my tea. The smell of it is inviting, the liquid is in a golden honey color. The steam began to rise from my cup, now making my mouth salivate with anticipation. I don't think I've ever felt like this before when it comes to tea, I dislike them after all.

"What kind of tea is it?" I asked, looking at Asgore while Flowey continued to eat in peace.

"Golden flower. It's my favorite type of tea to drink. I'm sure you'll like this one, my child."

I responded by smiling. "Thank you."

I held my teacup by the handle, watching the steam rise from the honey colored liquid. Slowly, I tipped the cup and took a sip as I felt the warm liquid run down my throat. Oh! It turned out to be sweeter than I imagined! I take a few more bigger sips until there were no traces of liquid left inside my cup, feeling my stomach and muscles warm up and relaxed. Ah, that felt nice . . .

"This tastes so good! May I have another, please?"

He chuckled at my reaction and took the teapot to pour another serving for me. "I was right to bet with Runa that you would enjoy this one. Now I have a reason to send more of the golden flower tea back to her."

"Why? Does she not like this one?" I raised my eyebrow.

"Oh, no; she does. However, your mother doesn't like to drink tea when it's always summer in Aura Cove. She prefers to drink them in cold weathers."

I chuckled softly. I didn't know Nanny was like that. I guess that explains why she never drinks hot beverages on hot summer days. Maybe when she visits the palace in a winter season, she and I could sit down and have a cup of tea.

I drank my tea silently, looking down at it and found my reflection. Suddenly, I can see Fiona's cold glare, including the other girls that stared down at me. A threat, the king and queen's favorite, a suck up. I gasped, looking away from my tea, feeling sad. I can't stop thinking about the cold stares some of the girls gave me after what happened at the ballroom and the dining room. There's nothing to be jealous about; I can't help it.

"What ever is the matter, little one?" Asgore spoke again, suddenly snapping me back from my dark thoughts. "If you continue to hold your cup like that, it'll break and you'll injure yourself. Why, you'll even scald yourself."

I looked down and gasped. He's right, I was holding my teacup so hard, my knuckles were white. With a few deep breaths, I released it and breathed heavily.

"Is it about the behavior some of the girls were giving you?" He asked gently, picking his words carefully.

I only nodded, unable to speak.

"Wait what? So, this idiot right here is part of Asriel's Selection?" Flowey suddenly spoke, squinting at me.

Asgore shoots Flowey a warning glare before he gazes at me again. "Little one, you are only giving them the satisfaction if you they see you break down and give up. You must stay determined, my child."

I didn't respond again, only looking down at my teacup. In the corner of my eyes, I can see him trying to think. Now I feel terrible for wasting his time. I guess it's time that we end our tea session.

"Why don't you use your magic and blast them all? It's what I would do if they pick on me." Flowey chuckled darkly, making that creepy face again.

"Ah, I suppose there is only one option left to help you understand, young one." He says, ignoring Flowey's suggestion.

Before I could question what he means, Asgore suddenly brings out an empty teacup and places it in the middle of the table. I was puzzled. Is there another guest who will be joining us?

Just then, Asgore begins to pour the tea into the cup, watching as the liquid rises to the top slowly. Panic ran through my body as the tea began to overfill, noticing the rest of it spilled over the table. Flowey quickly used his vines to pick up the rest of the macarons to prevent them from getting soaked by the hot liquid. What the?!

"A-Asgore! The teacup! It's overfilling!" He didn't bother stopping as he continues to tip the teapot while the tea began to spill into the grass.

"Asgore, please! The teacup is already full! You don't need to put anymore!" My hand reached for his wrist and grabbed it, stopping him from wasting anymore tea.

Suddenly, he looks up to find my eyes meeting his soft gaze. "Ah. It seems we've ran out of tea, little one."

"W-wha? I don't understand . . . Why did you do that?"

"You see this teacup Zefie?" I looked down at the overfilled cup and nodded before he continued. "Imagine that this little teacup is your mind, and the tea is the negative opinions the girls think of you. As you can see, there is no room for anything else. Without an empty cup, you can never make more room to think clearly. You must remember to--"

"Keep an open mind . . ." We said in unison.

He chuckled softly. "That's right. Thinking too much will only complicate your life. It only creates a problem that never existed in the first place."

I blinked, leaning against the chair to let his words sink in. Maybe I have been overthinking too much about it. I nearly forgot what I wanted to accomplish in the first place. I was so stupid to even let them get to me, that I nearly forgot that their opinions about me don't matter.

"Ah, I guess I was out of focus today. Thank you, Asgore."

Asgore chuckled and reached for my shaky hand and held it in his, giving it a tight squeeze. "You know, you remind me of myself before."

"W-what? I do?" I raised an eyebrow at him. "How?"

He remained silent for a little while, before his gaze finds mine as he spoke. "When my parents passed away, I was weighed with a heavy burden to take the throne. I was your age when it happened, and your mother's parents were the only two people who I considered as my second family. And one day, I snapped; breaking furnitures, bellowing at my subjects; I couldn't take the madness of the humans waging war against us. It was just too much for me to handle at a young age . . . I wasn't ready to lead all on my own."

My breath stilled, unable to say anything. I didn't know he had to take the throne at a young age. Nanny must have seen how badly Asgore was before. Now I'm starting to wonder if Asriel too feels this way.

"Of course, your mother, Runa, tried so hard to comfort me," Asgore continues, solemnly holding his teacup close. "But I responded by pushing her away, telling her that she was not helping. Guilt ran through me for putting up a wall against my own best friend. And so, to prevent myself from hurting anyone again, I locked myself up in my room for two weeks. I never ate, nor slept. But one day, Runa's mother, Sakura, came to me holding a tray of two cups and a teapot filled with my favorite tea to try and comfort me. Like you, I never spoke the whole time, she knew what was wrong with me and thought talking about it could help. I was far too sad and angry to even speak. Of course, Sakura was a very patient monster. And with enough time to think through, she did something that made me panic. She poured too much tea enough to overfill my teacup." I could hear his voice break as he spoke the last word.

My eyes widened. "W-what? Do you mean to say that she--?"

Asgore smiled warmly at me. "Yes, your grandmother was the one who showed me the spilled tea . . . And it seems that I have forgotten about her wisdom she has passed on to me when I . . . Had a another break down later on in the future."

I leaned against my chair again, taking it all in slowly.

"So you see, little one; this is my wisdom that I will pass on to you, as what Sakura had passed on to me. Do not overthink to create more problems that will stop you from staying determined. Stay as the young lady who smiled beautifully in the ballroom."

Without speaking, I stood up from my chair and quickly ran towards his chest, burying my face against his pink shirt. Perfect, I suddenly thought. Asgore's shirt is going to be smothered in makeup. He didn’t seem to mind though as he kindly responded by wrapping his large arms around me. He held me close like any other father would do to comfort their children. I sniffled and began to sob as he hushes me softly.

"You have been through so much, but I know that you can overcome it." He spoke gently, putting his hand over my head.

"How so?" I looked up, finding his face looking so blurry from my tears clouding my vision.

"Because, Runa raised her children to move on and not let anything hold them back. And that is why my wife and I adore your mother so much."

I smiled and wiped my tears as I heard Flowey munching in the background. "Should we be worried that he'll get a tummy ache?"

"Ah, don't worry about him, little one. His stomach doesn't work that way compared to ours."

I shook my head slowly, what an odd flower monster Flowey is.

"So, what happened after my grandmother shared her wisdom with you?" I asked, even though it was very obvious that I knew what happened.

"I was able to clear my head again. Of course I had to mend the cracks that I have done through my irrational behavior, Runa included. With your grandparents as my only guide to help me rule and understand my kingdom, I was able to lead my people with hopes and dreams to overcome the worst. Runa even introduced me to Toriel, bless her heart for having me meet the love of my life. And of course, you knew what happened after that. But still, Sakura's wisdom will always be here to guide me through my toughest and saddest moments in my immortal life. And I hope it will also help you along your journey, little one."

"It already has." I breathed, wiping away my tears.

And just like that, I was finally able to empty my teacup from anymore negative opinions they have on me. Even though Nanny was not here to give me the words I needed to dissipate my problems away, Asgore has done his job by sharing his wisdom my grandmother had. I could never ask for more. Nanny chose the best people to talk to.

With some magic to clean up the mess, and a maid to bring us a new hot fresh pot of golden flower tea, Asgore and I were able to continue to chat for awhile. In the background of our conversation, Flowey shouted in distress as his last macaron disappeared into his belly 'stem'. Luckily for him, I knew how to bake these delicious French sandwich cookies.

♕ ❀ ✩°｡⋆*:･ﾟ✧ ❀ ✩°｡⋆*:･ﾟ✧ ❀ ✩°｡⋆*:･ﾟ✧ ❀ ♕

"Oh my gosh, Zefie! Today was the best time of my life!" Colleen beamed as we were eating dinner.

"I can see that," I chuckled with my mouth full of roast beef and mashed potatoes. "How did it go?"

All day, I spent my morning and afternoon with Asgore and Flowey. I was able to help him water the flowers and plants that needed our attention. And yes, I was able to feed the koi fishes as well and watched them gather in groups to eat what was left. Boring as everyone will think, but this was the best time I've spent today.

There were times when Flowey would talk to me and ask me questions about myself, with that ass of a personality of his. In the end, he was able to call me Zefie. Well, Zefie the idiot to be exact.

"It was so magical, I can never sleep at all! We went for a quiet stroll around the palace to admire the nature and places I never thought that existed. And best of all, he told me how cute I am when I smile!" She places her hands over her mouth to muffle her squeals.

I chuckled softly and turned my gaze towards Asriel. He looks a bit exhausted, but still smiled as if nothing happened. I'll have to find someway to thank him when we're alone.

"I'm glad you're happy, Colleen. I'm happy for ya." Delilah gushes, holding her hand to give it a squeeze.

"Me too, I'm glad that you're the first person Asriel went on a date with." I said earnestly.

"You guys are the best!" Colleen beams again.

"Your Majesty," a ram butler walks in bowing before he approaches to Asgore, holding a small white box wrapped in a blue ribbon. "You have a parcel from Lady Cordelia. It is said that we must give this to you once it is delivered to the palace."

Everyone perked their heads up once they heard it was from Nanny. However, I was the only one that didn't look up. I was too hungry to even fuss about the parcel Nanny sent, perhaps it's a small thank you gift for having Asgore and Toriel look after me in her place.

"Ooh! I wonder what's inside," Colleen cranes her neck. "Your mom must have sent something to them that's considered special."

"Do you know what it is?" Delilah asks, looking at me.

"I'm not sure, I didn't talk to her ye--"

"Zefie, my child. Come forth, please." Toriel calls out to me, her voice filled with excitement.

Huh? Me? What for? I stood up slowly, feeling all the girls staring at me as I approached the end of the table where Asgore and Toriel sat. I forced myself to not give into my temptation to look at Asriel as I stopped and curtsied. Frisk waved at me, as I returned it with a smile before I spoke.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

Asgore and Toriel looked at each other, smiling before she spoke. "You have a present from your mother, my child. And she wants you to wear this everyday when you compete. She says it's a good luck charm that will remind you of home."

"Take care of it, young one. This present is considered irreplaceable." Asgore smiled, placing the small box over my hands.

I looked down at it, finding a small note with Nanny's handwriting on it that was meant for Asgore and Toriel. I shook it slowly, hearing something clatter against the box. What could it be?

"Thank you, Your Majesties. I will take great care of it." I curtsied to them and turned away to head back to my seat.

I felt my whole body chilled to the bone, feeling once again the gazes of the other girls following me as I took my seat. It took them awhile before they went back to finish their dinner. I can tell both Delilah and Colleen are trying so hard to hide their anticipation; their faces are overflowing with the hope that I would open the box now. I took a deep breath and slowly untied the blue silk ribbon, lifting the small box’s lid and gasped.

Inside was a beautiful crystal pendant that glimmered in a beautiful bluish-lavender-gold color, carved into the shape of a seashell with a small pearl hanging on top of it. Some of the girls awed in wonder as the gold chain began to glitter from the lights when I held it up to watch the crystal shine twice as bright as a diamond could have.

"That looks beautiful!" Colleen gasps, staring at my pendant.

"Is it some kind of diamond?" Delilah tilts her head, admiring the color it's beaming.

"No, it's an Aurora crystal. They only grow in a special cave back in Aura Cove, they're known to give good luck to their wearer. The pearl is the jewel from the sea, it's supposed to represent integrity, generosity, and loyalty, but they share some kind of power to keep a child safe. The white one that I have is supposed to symbolize new beginnings."

"You're so lucky to have a mom like Runa to worry about you!" Colleen says with adoration.

"Yeah, I really am." I go ahead and wrapped the gold chain around my neck, hooking the small circle onto the clip and let the pendant hang above my chest.

"It suits you well," Delilah comments, nudging my shoulder.

In the corner of my eye, I found Asriel staring at me. Has he been staring at me this whole time? Nah, I doubt it. Maybe he wanted to see what Nanny gave me. it's understandable to why he was looking.

The girls that sat across me commented that my necklace looked beautiful and gorgeous. I only responded by thanking them with a smile. In the end, it was still nice to have some of the girls show their kindness towards me. However, I'm still unsure about the others that didn’t.

I clenched onto my skirt. No. No, I won't let their opinions cloud my judgement. I will not let my teacup be overfilled with negative thoughts. I am Zafrina Alban. I am my own person, and they are their own selves. I’d rather be the odd one than to look the same as everyone else.

Suddenly, I notice a small note hiding under the cotton that held my necklace. I pulled it out, unfolding the paper. Oh. It's from Bryn! Smiling like an idiot, I go ahead and read the note mentally in Bryn's voice.

 Nanny and I thought it was a good idea to send you something that will remind you of home. Knowing you, I assume you're stuck in a situation where the girls are putting you in a tight spot. Who the hell cares? They better back off and stop before Asriel eliminates them. Remember Zefie, he dislikes those type of girls. And you are not like that! Which is why we sent you this necklace. Don't worry about not wearing it in the ocean or water. Nanny used her magic to keep the gold from losing its color. And yes, it's real gold. Don't ask how she had enough money to have the jeweler crafter make your necklace, I love you.

I felt my eyes well up in tears, quickly wiping them away before anyone sees it.

In the end, some of the girls began to disappear back to their rooms after finishing their meals. I left as well, wanting to do nothing but shower and lay on my bed so I can use my iPhone that's piled with texts and missed calls. I also have to call Nanny and Bryn to thank them for giving me a lovely present.

"Heh. Come on, kid, you're making me blush."

I stopped dead on my tracks with my eyes widened. Is that Sans' voice?

"Pfft! I'm trying not to. Keep quiet before someone hears us."

Oh. Could it be? I bent down to take off my heels just so they can't hear me come by. I walk down the corridor slowly, following the hushed voices until I stopped behind a pillar. Just as I suspected, Sans talking to Frisk.

She was against the wall, with Sans leaning a bit too close to her enough for her chest to be pressed against his. They looked so peaceful and happy, it's honestly adorable.

Wait, why am I overhearing this? I thought to myself. And what am I doing spying on them? That's just plain stupid of me. Ugh, I just want to go shower! I shook my head, I can feel my sins crawling on my back. And that feels creepy.

"I'll be honest, Frisk, you looked gorgeous today. And I couldn't take my eyes off of ya." Sans chuckled darkly.

"You don't have any eyes, Sans!" Frisk giggles, lightly punches his arm before they leaned towards each other and shared a sweet passionate kiss.

I can only respond by smiling, feeling my cheeks flush pink for seeing something so adorable. I quickly ran across the hallway while I had the chance to be unseen. I ran all the way towards an unfamiliar corridor, hiding behind a pillar to catch my breath.

"Sans . . . A-and Frisk? They're together?" I said, breathing heavily.

I was feeling puzzled. Why would they be in the hallway to secretly see each other? I don't think Asgore and Toriel are the type to forbid a royal to be with a guard, they're far too kind to even try. Unless they're--

"Well hello there, Zefie." I stopped breathing, feeling my heart get smothered by my lungs.

I turned my head towards Fiona, finding her a couple feet away from me. Well, so much for avoiding trouble . . .

I straightened my posture, remaining stoic and began to walk past her. I don't have time to listen to her insult me, I'm in no mood for it at all. I hear her laugh dryly before she walked faster than me to block me from leaving the corridor.

"Hey, where are you going? Don't you know that it's not polite to leave your friend behind when they're trying to have a conversation?"

"There's nothing for us to talk about, Fiona. What you said to me yesterday, was crystal clear." I said, enduring my heart pounding painfully.

"Oh, there is something alright," A malicious smile spread across her face. "It's something about you. Ever since you announced your mother, half of us can see that you're nothing but a threat; no, the biggest threat in this competition."

This is bad. She's letting her emotions get out of control. Beads of sweat started to appear over my forehead, feeling them fall across my cheek. I opened my mouth to say something, but Fiona continued to speak again.

"So, what did you do huh? Did your mom ask the king and queen to have Mettaton pick your name in the lottery when the announcement of The Selection happened? Because if she did, then that's considered unfair of her to do such a thing."

I clenched my fist tightly. "She has done nothing! Nanny would never do such a thing! They're her best friends, she knows better than to ask them something this low and dirty. My name was picked out randomly just like everybody else."

"Oh? What's this? You don't call her 'mother?' You just call her 'Nanny?'" She lets out a haughty laugh before a wicked smile appeared across her face. "So what? Does that mean she's nothing but a maid to you? Is that it? Wow, you really are pathetic. I don't know what Asriel could possibly see in you. All I know is that you're nothing but a weak . . . Weak orphan!"

"Fiona, calm down. This won't make things better--" I gasped as my words trailed off. In the corner of my eye, I thought I just saw Papyrus standing at the end of the passageway, but at a second glance nobody was there.

"Don't you tell me to calm down, you conniving bitch!" She glares at me, taking a few steps towards me until she was a few inches away from me before she spoke again.

"You have no right to tell me what to do, and if you think your 'friends' are there to help you, well you are dead wrong. I'm pretty sure that they're talking behind your back, thinking what an arrogant spoiled brat you are, just because you're foster mom is the last creature of her kind to live. And you know what? I don’t think she deserves to be best friends with the king and queen. I mean really, what kind of a friend is she for letting her friends stay locked up under a mountain? She could have just taken seven souls and released them. Instead, she wasted her time acting as a human.”

“It's called showing ‘mercy.'” I said, my voice sounding stern. “She knows better than to spill blood, and take innocent lives just to release the monsters.”

She sneers at me, placing her hands over her hips. “Did you forget what I just told you, Zefie? In this competition, there is no such thing as friendship! And here you are now, acting so innocent and shy while the others eat off of your hand before they can see what a coward you really are. So what did you and King Asgore do in the garden huh? Did you seduce him and have him favor you so he can have Asriel choose you?"

"You are disgusting!" I snarled, staring down at her with a glare of my own. "Why would you think I’d even do such a despicable thing?! He's a married man, and my mother’s best friend for crying out loud! I look at King Asgore like a father!"

Fear ran through me, the sooner I saw Fiona raised her hand. "Someone needs to teach you a lesson on how to act like a proper lady. And knowing you, Zefie, you're far too smart to be a snitch and tell Asriel on me. So, allow me to do you a favor and help you remember where an orphan Mage like you stands."

I quickly shut my eyes, prepared to feel her hand strike my cheek, but I felt nothing.

What? I opened my eyes slowly and gasped. I watched in horror as Asriel restrained Fiona's hand from hitting me. Her face suddenly went pale, no traces of blood existing. My body felt so weak that I slowly fell to my knees, panting as my heart pounded loudly. A wave of lightheadedness overtook me.

"I was going to go upstairs to call it a day until Papyrus came up to me in panic stating that he saw something happening between the two of you." He spoke, his voice deep with pure anger. "I told him that maybe it's nothing terrible but came anyway to soothe his fears. And this is what I find: Miss Taylor gravely insulting not only my family, but Miss Alban’s, too."

Fiona's lips started to quiver, watching as beads of sweat suddenly forming over her forehead. "Y-Your Majesty, I-I didn't mean any of that! I swear--"

"So, you didn't mean it when you said Miss Alban is a coward for being herself? Or when you said that Lady Cordelia doesn't deserve to be my parents’ best friend for leaving them behind? And when you asked if she seduced my father, just to have him tell me to choose her?" He asks, cutting her off from saying anything.

I swallowed hard, looking away from them to remain calm. My magic was dangerously thrumming under my skin as I try to breathe slowly to make them disappear, listening as Asriel continued to speak.

"You know, I was going to give you a chance to redeem yourself when I saw that you're one of the girls that stared down at Miss Alban, but Miss Darwin suggested that I give you a chance to see what kind of person you are under those insecurities. So, I agreed with her. People do deserve second chances. Yet, after hearing you say awful things to Miss Alban, I now see what kind of a person you truly are. Your jealousy is considered unattractive and unappealing to me. And if you truly knew me so well, Miss Taylor, you would have known to bite your tongue down and keep your jealousy to yourself. What you said about Miss Alban and my father is truly disgusting of you."

"W-wait! Please, Prince Asriel--"

"You've said enough, The damages you have inflicted to Miss Alban are unacceptable. I cannot allow to you to remain within my home if you're going to continue harassing the rest of the girls in secret. You’ve disrespected Lady Cordelia, my family, and Miss Alban. Thus, you have disrespected me the most."

In the corner of my eye, Asriel turns his head to beckon the nearest guard to come, releasing Fiona’s wrist. I squeezed my eyes shut, blocking away what he was ordering the guard to do. Keep it together, I begged myself.

In the background, I hear Fiona calling for Asriel as she began to cry loudly. Dammit, keep it together. Her cries began to echo among the corridors, hearing heavy footsteps from the guard's heavy armor.

"Zefie? Are you okay?" I gasped, opening my eyes instantly, finding Asriel knelt before me. "Did she hurt you?"

I shook my head vigorously. "I'm alright, just shocked."

Asriel lets out a loud heavy breath. "Can you get up?"

"Yes."

I slowly get up, regaining my posture before facing him again. His gentle gaze was on me again, smiling softly at me. Oh no, please don't look at me like that . . . My heart was thumping loudly in such a fast pace that my head, too, began to pound just as hard. I need to go now before things possibly get worse.

“Zefie? Are sure you're okay? I can take--” he reaches for me, but I backed away.

"I'm sorry Asriel, I have to go," I quickly ran past him, pretending that I didn't hear him calling for me to come back.

This is too much. This was far too much drama for me to witness! I ran around the corner, rapidly pressing the elevator button to go up. Hurry up!

"Zefie, wait!" I gasped, hearing his footsteps coming towards the elevator.

This is taking too long! I frantically call out to my magic, chanting a spell as a bright pink light surrounded my entire body. I could feel an odd pressure surround and cave in on me. And in a flash, I found myself in my room again.

My body won't let me cry, I've used up too many tears today. Since Barbara and Lesley are nowhere to be seen, I didn't bother waiting for their return. Once again, I use my magic to remove my dress and undergarments. Quickly, I entered the shower, closing the glass door shut and began to wash away the traces of sweat and the mixed up emotions I have experienced today.

After getting cleaned and dressed into my comfortable pajamas, I immediately collapsed onto my bed, feeling far too lazy and weak to pull the sheets over me.

If I could define my mood right now, it would be an under-mixed macaron. I was too fluffy, that I cracked after coming out of the oven. Stay calm, Zefie, I said to myself. Stay determined.

And just like that, my eyelids felt heavy as sleep began to take me into a warm comfortable dream.

[cloudbattrolls]

The Path of Most Resistance

Jastes Verdan || 9.5 sweeps || Civitrecce || Present Night

Your claws change and harden into steel, allowing you to cut extremely thin, careful lines around the control panel. They’re hardly a millimeter deep; not enough to trigger its alarms. One day the factory might improve their security, but you’ve always kept a careful eye on their sensors; they’re surprisingly careless about so-called minor damages.

“Move it, pal.” says the voice in your earbug. “The others are plenty busy, but that’s going to be worthless if you don’t goddamn manage!”

Xineck only used one cussword, so you have at least five minutes. 

You take out four small gray capsules, your breathing mask firmly in place. It’s technically a cocoon, but nobody likes to be reminded they’re wearing a bug in their nostrils. 

You barely give it any thought as you turn your hand back to flesh slowly, precisely attach each of them in front of the four lines of the box shape you made around the panel and then quickly press sealant onto them. The quick-hardening adhesive will not only provide a temporary disguise, but will also seal in the degeneration agent from the capsules as they burst and ensure their acid eats away until it reaches the control box’s inner workings. 

It’s a shoddy job. If you were grading someone else on this, you’d give them a four out of ten.

A stream of profanity issues from the earbug, but you’re already heading for your exit.

A great deal of shouting and thundering feet - the factory’s security - go by as you pass, then stop and turn around. 

“Hey!”

You appear slightly apprehensive as they catch up to you. 

“Yeah?”

“What’re you doing out of the column? It’s still your shift!”

“Oh.” You look vaguely surprised and pluck at the uniform that became yours as of tonight, and will leave your possession again very shortly. “Look, I...”

A burly bronze girl waves her hand irritably. “You know what? I don’t want to hear it. Let’s just write you up so the boss can deal with it.” 

You make half-hearted noises of protest as she goes over you with a handheld scanner and registers your implanted ID chip in for disciplinary action the following night. 

You feel sorry for the girl whose face and identity you’ve stolen for a bit. The worse crime is probably her slightly altered memories from a few quick slips into her wetware.

“Hey.” The bronze girl adds, even though the other guards have shuffled off. “I’m just doing my job, y’know? I’ll treat you tomorrow night. You like ice cream, right? I know a place.”

Your pumper skips a beat as you blink in surprise, but you figure that wouldn’t be out of character for this girl.

“That sounds cool.” You say, the hesitant new helm glad and wary to receive such sympathy from someone far higher-ranking.

She nods, and then walks off.

You continue to the front door and let yourself out, obediently typing in your clockout number. Then you go to her hive (its cameras are currently being fed a series of loops pieced together from old footage and its microphones’ ranges have been reduced), turn metal, rearrange your features, and return to your organic state again with your own face intact. 

You’re just doing your nose when Xineck struts in and nearly gives you a pumper attack, not that you show it. He’d enjoy that way too much.

“Everything’s peachy.” He drawls. “Girl hasn’t got a clue what happened, and it looks exactly like a rival messing with their junk. You did such a shit job that they’ll have no problem pinning it on amateurs like GrubTech. ”

“I thought it was only sort of bad.” You say mildly. “She’s a kid; I thought I did pretty good as an amateur.”

The maroon snorts, elbowing you in your side. “You’d think we got our ideas from b-list movies. Did you really have to waste four capsules of that shit? It’s not cheap.”

“I had to look anxious and tryhard.” You say, delicately inflected to suggest the possibility that those are things he’s quite familiar with.

“I’m gonna cut you some night just for the hell of it. Will I throw up? Yeah. It’ll feel good later, though.”

You finally flush slightly yellow, and Xineck grins with as many sharp teeth as his lusus. Totally against the style for a burgundy, but he’d rather swallow live earwigs than file them or get surgery. 

He’s the one troll who knows what you can do, and thus your weaknesses. A more pragmatic troll would have had him culled for that. Sometimes you wish you weren’t so sentimental.

The rest of the group knows you’re a psiionic, but many just assume you have illusion-based powers and access to expensive tools, or secretly prosthetic limbs under your skin.

You’re as flesh and blood as any troll; it just happens to be optional.

You look away. 

“A guard was kind to her.”

“Big whoop.” He says idly, cleaning under his claws with a knife.

“She deserved to be there for that.”

“You going to go write down your feels, buddy? That guard would still shove her into a column with a whistle and a wave. Her kind are sellouts. Put your thinkpan back in your skull, the others’re getting the taxi and restoring the apartment’s stuff.”

People who aren’t Xineck sound incredibly appealing right now, and you brighten up. 

He laughs at you, but at least the job is done and you can, very slightly, relax.

[amorbid-artist]

Stasis, The Villain who Constantly Searches

Overview

Name: Karada Ikiirugai ( 生要る甲斐  体 ) 

Kaiju GP-ID: Proto-IV-0925-42

Biological Name: Val Kakeragi (掛けらぎ バール)

Alias: Stasis

Age: 25

Birthday: October 25th || Zodiac: Scorpio

Gender || Pronouns: Male || He/Him/His, They/Them/Theirs

Orientation: Demiromantic Demisexual

Height: 6′4″ (193 cm) || Blood Type: AB

Quirk: Freeze-Frame (Emitter/Activation-type Quirk)

Details found in the Comprehensive Quirk Analysis: Freeze-Frame

Combat Style: stealth/assassination skills; usually just takes the piccy and then commences the stabby

Face Claim: Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Ookawa Tamaki (Mahou ga Tsukaenakutemo + Suginami Ku Nite)

Appearance & Notable Features

Hair: soft/silky; shaggy; thin; dark maroon hue -- in broad daylight it looks more burgundy

Eyes: left -- purple; right -- bloodied sclera with a shutter lens pupil

Complexion & Marks: fairly light (somewhat sensitive to sunlight); stitches (along left forearm, along right hip, just below left side of ribcage, along right collarbone)

Notable Accessories: eyepatch over right eye

Personality & Preferences

General Personality: quiet/reserved, observant, emotionally detached(?), perfectionist/nitpicky, morbid curiosity

Interests: fine art photography, human physiology & psyche, piano, numerology, possibly coding, the surgical field

Likes: art, photography, animals...?, sour treats, astronomy, OWLS (and ravens)

Dislikes: wasted time, empty promises, ‘false heroes’, betrayal

Tendencies: empty smiles

Fashion Taste: simple yet semi-formal wear --- sweater vests & slacks are apparently his jam

Bio

A reserved man who usually keeps to himself, even though there’s secretly a desire for company and some understanding. Karada struggles to convey his emotions, and more often than not, he covers it up with an empty smile if not visible irritation. His past constantly haunts him, but he prefers not to reveal much of it to those who don’t need to know. At the same time, connections behind his upbringing always seem to come back and find him, for better or for worse. Sticking around him long enough tends to reveal more of his internal conflicts and his past, but usually he tries to distance himself before it’s all let loose. Nobody knows where he gets his money or ‘resources’, but it probably has something to do with the fact that he has to keep the name ‘Stasis’ as an alias under wraps.

Backstory

In the time before Symbol of Peace’s era had begun, there existed an underground business sought to make profit out of Quirks through any means necessary. Scientists worked to selectively pair Quirks together via artificial insemination with captured women with Quirks they sought to profit from. Originally meant to be a bio-weapon, Val Kakeragi was one of the few products of his generation created by Kaiser Corporations that managed to survive and escape from one of the facilities. Originally, he was brought in to an orphanage after some rehabilitation, but after a mortifying incident between him and a few children, Val was instead brought to a psychiatric ward in an attempt to ‘correct’ him. Dissatisfied with his treatment and the constant associations between his identity and his origins, he escapes from the psychiatric ward at the age of thirteen, and decides to search for his place in society his own way.

Fun Facts

Ikiirugai is a combination of iru [ 要る (v.) = to need; to want ] and ikigai [ 生甲斐 (n.) = something one lives for, purpose in life, raison d'être ], creating a surname implying a need for a purpose in life.

The kanji used for karada ( 体 ) means body, substance, object, and/or reality, and is also counter for images -- all of which can be a reference to his Quirk one way or another.

Generally, though, karada [ からだ ] can mean “body, health, physique” or even a “corpse”.

Kakeragi is a combination of kakera [ かけら (n.) = fragment, broken pieces, splinter ] and gi [ ぎ (suffix) =  -like nature, -like disposition, -ish temperament ], creating a surname meaning something like ‘a fragmented disposition’.

The name Val was meant to be a nod to three demons in Ars Goetia, one of five books for a grimoire (spell book) in demonology called Lemegeton (Lesser Key of Solomon).

The three demons are: King Baal, Duke Valefor, and President Valac. A list of the demons in Ars Goetia can be found here.

Val has musphobia (= fear of rats). Coming across one makes him absolutely frozen still in fear. He doesn’t hate them, he just... fears them.

His right eye has photophobia, or light sensitivity. This leads to an aversion from brightly lighted locations when he doesn’t have his eyepatch on.

Had he been put on the right path, Val would have likely pursued fields such as Fine Arts, Computer Science/Engineering, Astrophysics and/or Architecture. Being a pro hero seems ‘too out there’ for an introvert like him, which is disheartening, as his Quirk would be very useful in safely capturing villains.

His sensitivity to light and pain tolerance would also have been properly addressed.

More On Stasis:

Available Verses

Still looking for some insight on what Stasis is like? Perhaps the tags #about the muse and #about stasis may be of help!