#me whenever i see a brown girl character in an objectively too short dress and tall boots: i should wear that

[sodrippy]

every time i see robin enies lobby outfit im like actually i should get into cosplay

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Hello! Can I please get a matchup for genshin, blush blush and hsr?

My pronouns vary, as I am genderfluid, but I mostly go with they/them to make things easier on others. I'm mainly into men, and am a Leo and an INFP.

I'm 5'9" and am basically a VERY pale androgynous twig with birth marks here and there. My hair is rather short and boyish right now, although I'm trying to grow it out a little. It's naturally brown, but I like to color it unnatural colors from time to time. My eyes are blue. The way I dress can vary greatly. My body language seems to be a mix of timid awkward girl and confident dude. I’m almost always smiling or look like I’m confused/spacing out.

I'm socially awkward, perpetually confused, and feel a special connection with loneliness. I can be pretty funny in improv situations. I tend to let others dominate conversations, although if they don’t fill the silence I’ll get anxious and try to fill it myself. When I’m in a group of people I tend to get a little overwhelmed. It’s difficult for me to feel connected with others and I worry even my closest friends will leave me if I slip up somehow. It’s extremely rare for me to get angry, to the point where people I’ve known since I was a kid think I’m incapable of it.

I like rocks, geology, mythical creatures, and fictional characters. I dislike storms, rain, loud noises, and people who are always putting others down.

My hobbies mostly include daydreaming (fantasizing about experiencing mutual love), reading fanfics, playing video games (Genshin mainly) and sometimes watching anime. I also write fics occasionally and draw comics. I can sing too, but I’m nervous about doing it for others.

My love language is physical touch.

I have a lot of comfort objects (fidget toys, key chains, rings, etc) that are extremely important to me and that I always keep with me. I’ll sometimes even bring plushies in the car with me when I leave the house. I’m rather possessive of these items.

Hi Anon! Thank you for your request! I hope you like your matchups!

In Genshin Impact, I match you with...

Zhongli is the person to go to regarding your interest in rocks! Considering he's the geo archon, he's the expert in this field so any questions you have, he can answer.

He'd love spending an afternoon curled up with you on the couch, warm drinks within reach and reading or watching you draw.

Zhongli loves watching you draw. He's seen so much destruction in his life that it's nice watching someone create something for a change.

Always keeps an eye out for new fidget toys and plushies when he's out. Not that he can buy them anyway but he'll remember them next time you're both out together so he can point them out to you.

Would love listening to you sing but if you're nervous, he's happy to sing with you. He's got a nice voice and he knows it can help having someone to sing with; it hides mistakes well.

Will keep you company during storms. If it helps, he's more than happy to talk, read to you, or sing. Whatever helps to take your mind off the storm.

In Blush Blush, I match you with...

Nimh totally gets where you're coming from with the worry about people leaving you if you slip up. He's been there before. But he knows a few tips and tricks for helping you to lessen that fear.

Will always reassure you that, no matter what, he'll always be by your side.

I see Nimh as someone who's love language is also physical touch so you're a good match in that regard as well. He's more than happy to dish out as many hugs as you want, just please return the gesture when he needs some love an affection as well.

Enjoys playing video games with you. His favourites are cozy games like Animal Crossing and Stardew Valley.

Nimh loves your plushies. He'll respect your boundaries with them so if you don't want him to touch them, he wont. But if you let him, he'll treat them very carefully and give each one a gentle hug and head pat.

Similarly to Zhongli, whenever he's out, he'll keep an eye out for new plushies and fidget toys. He knows what sort of things you like and is more than happy to get you a present every now and then.

In Honkai Star Rail, I match you with...

I think Dan Heng has his own collection of fidget toys. He's happy to share with you since he usually gets too absorbed in his record keeping to use them.

Thinks your plushies are cute but won't ask to touch them. They're not really his thing. He likes them more because you do and because they remind him of you.

Another one who will keep you company during storms. He'll put on your favourited music to drown out the sound of the storm and will sit with you as long as you want him to.

Not the best with physical touch but he's willing to learn. I see him as someone who doesn't easily get comfortable with people but he's more open with you.

If you want a hug, he'll oblige but you'll have to tell him first. He's not great at picking up on people's emotions but if you can let him know when you want affection, whether verbally or non-verbally, he's more than happy to give you a warm hug.

Dan Heng would enjoy drawing with you. He's not great but he's also not bad at drawing so he'd like to practice. He also enjoys watching your drawing come together.

If you give him any drawings, he'll keep them somewhere safe so he'll always have a reminder of you.

[hadtochangemyurlquick]

i saw in your bio your pronouns are “she/her probs” if you wouldn’t mind could you elaborate on that? you 100% don’t have to bc at the end of the day it’s none of my business but i’ve been thinking a lot about my own gender identity recently and your pronouns caught my eye

okay so basically, when i was born the doctor wasn’t there, he was helping out the teenage girl next door, and my mom had done it a bunch of times already so it was kinda no big deal? so there was no one there to be like “it’s a girl!” and i’ve been chasing that high ever since.

i was the youngest of too many, growing up on street with only little boys and my parents were never home so we’d basically be out and about until like 11pm trying to decide which god from the greek mythos was our secret parent and never once was i a girl with them we just didn’t have gender it didn’t exist

my two older sisters were extremely close whereas my two older brothers were hated each other and I was close with both of them individually so i never interacted with my sisters bc they were always hanging out together

when i started being a woman in middle school (my mom said I had to :/ ) i didn’t do it right and the first question i got asked was “are you a boy or are you a lesbian?”

i was so obsessed with looking like my older brother i kept my hair super super long and to this day he hasn’t cut it he keeps it in a man bun but i cut mine short directly after high school so i could go to an hwc like the fucking lesbian i am

the first girl i dated had four fingers in total on both her hands, not counting thumbs, and we fell in love play wrestling and like, physically rough housing, like i had with the little boys on my street growing up. she plays the viola to this day i think

when i first saw my now ex-boyfriend my first thought was, he’s either a lesbian or he’s trans, and to this day he’s identified as every label on the lgbtqa spectrum which is funny to me

i like the way i look in a binder but maybe that’s just cause i hate my body and want to punish it?

growing up i played a bunch of sports bc the commutes were the only guaranteed time alone i had with my dad and it was on a softball field in sixth grade that i realized i was a lesbian while looking at the short stop. her sister was a lesbian but the girl i liked was very straight :/

every dress i buy makes me look like an ethereal woodland goddess except for the one i bought that makes me look like a witch, and i look objectively gorgeous in them all except i dont wanna be pretty i want girls to jump out of their boots when they see me so i can catch them in my big strong arms and carry them home

once this kid i had a crush on and i watched the carmilla movie together. they were dating someone and i was pretty sure i was in love with them and when the sex scene came on i did not kiss them which i am both proud of and deeply regret

we also watched the miseducation of cameron post together with similar results

my grandfather carried around a pocket knife around with him everywhere bc he wanted to be useful, i carry around a backpack with a playing deck, a phone charger, a portable charger, a charger for my portable charger, a bar, bandaids, hand sanitizer, pen, pencil, notepad, pencil sharpener, a candle, a flashlight, a compass, matches, a book, lip stuff, pads, tampons, advil, neosporin, and a knife.

my dad has a big leather jacket i steal from him constantly and it’s big and brown and i keep an acorn in the pocket of it like i’m a stardew valley character who might need a nature snack. it’s very good for hiding in and definitely conceals my body

whenever i go shopping with my sisters they always try and dress me up as femininely as possible, despite neither of them being feminine in the slightest. whenever i go shopping with my brother i always empty my wallet. so i dont go shopping.

once i explained this problem to a close friend and he dropped off four shirts and those are pretty much the only thing i wear now. i found one pair of jeans that fit and i just wash those when they get dirty and hope low rise comes back into fashion eventually cause high rise hurts my belly

over time my friend group and family (extended family) has become increasingly trans allowing me to explore my gender for what it is, i don’t feel as though i always need to present anything bc often they’re too tired or in chronic pain to present anything either. in truth, my name is not gus, but it’s one i’m considering going by offline and that a few friends call me. i have warned my fam that i might change my name and pronouns and they were all like :/// okay sweetie, but not they/them okay? the grammar would be a nightmare which like. i’ll take it. they accepted me being a theater kid when i thought i was a theater kid, i’ll give ‘em a break on this one

this snl sketch is a very good thing that was made, my sister is one of those women at the beginning, she’s extremely fashion minded and so smart and aesthetic. the line ‘as a child you were humiliated in a kohls fitting room where your mother said something so harmful it seared off the top layer of your brain”

it was actually my mother’s room where i had been called fat one too many times by my brother and went to her and asked if i was. she said i could stand to lose a few.

my mother really struggled to lose her own baby weight as she had me late in life and with so many kids financial woes didn’t really ease out until i was maybe 7? 8? i didn’t realize at the time but she was looking at her reflection in one of the big mirrors she had in her room and even if she was talking to me she wasn’t talking to me, you know?

my mom did eventually lose the weight and got really in shape, like insanely in shape, she can now outrun god and dead lift satan on the days where her knee isn’t bothering her.

what else what else.

this poem:

“the tomboy grew up and she never went tame and she never found boys or makeup or nothing – nothing wrong with the girls who did but also it’s not inevitable, this progression womanhood rejected you, because where are the grownup tomboys? there’s no room for the rough-and-tumble girls to become rough-and-tumble foulmouthed broad-shouldered women. it’s alright to play at, daughter, they told you, but you have to grow up, and you were confused because you were playing at nothing the tomboy grew up, nonetheless. and instead of wrestling with friends she wrestled with herself for a while. but despite what they said, here she is, still rough, still wild. don’t believe the lies, daughter. grow as you need to. allow yourself to be pruned only to become stronger. grow bold and proud, daughter, like the trees that give you shelter, tomboy, wild girl. love the girls you dream of being strong for and the friends who bear you up when the storms shake your roots. there is value in the crabapple trees, wild daughter, even if the orchard-keeper turns up his nose. know this always, daughter: i love you exactly as you are, and however you need to be” by @sailorshadow

for julia in nebraska by addrienne rich

my friend got me that shirt during quarantine and i got the haircut a few weeks later

on the subject of rita mae brown who wrote ruby fruit jungle, i read the book while overseas in two days, didn’t look up the entire time, and was one of the first gay books i read. one of the things i loved about it was how the speaker was so unapologetically herself. how it ends on a note of bitter strength and triumphant defeat. i reread it while in georgia last year and found i had outgrown it. you might find some comfort in it, idk, just watch out bc there is some terf stuff in it? it aint perfect so just keep an eye out for that, it doesn’t ruin the book i don’t think, there’s other good stuff in it.

here’s some pictures of men:

growing up i was also surrounded by picture books, my grandmother was a children’s book librarian, and here are a couple of important figures:

then how to catch an elephant by amy schwartz but in particular this page:

and i’m sure i’m forgetting things but here’s my gender euphoria playlist:

i’m sure there’s stuff i’m not thinking of but i think that’s the gist of it? if you have any questions feel free to ask

ope! i almost forgot a couple of other important things:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hq27hcPTzDo

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ENxbcvUXfnM

hope this helps you on your journey!!!!!!

[steves-on-a-plane]

Double Trouble (Pt 2)

Part One /  Words: 1222 Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes (formerly & eventually) Other Characters: Betsy Sarah Rogers (oc) & Eleanor Roosevelt Barnes (oc) Other Info: Parent Trap AU Inspired by: @caffeinated--writer​‘s Post Summary: Betsy and Ellie come up with a grand plan to get their fathers back together. They spend the rest of the summer teaching each other about their lives and ultimately decide to switch places as part of a plan to get Bucky and Steve back together.

“What’s he like, Bucky?” Betsy asked Ellie. The two were sitting on the steps outside of their cabin where Joss and their other bunk mate were sleeping. Betsy was looking down at the photo of Bucky that she still hadn’t given back yet.

“He’s like a normal Dad I guess.” Ellie shrugged. “He owns a Motorcycle company, but you already know that. He spends a lot of time at the shop overseeing everything. He likes to be available when people need him. That important to him. Some how he always manages to make it to my school events. He never forgets to sign permission slips or pack my lunch.”

“My dad’s not like that.” Betsy shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong, I love him. He’s my favorite person in the whole world, but…” She sighed. “It’s like Steve Rogers is one person and Captain America is another and sometimes it’s hard being Captain America’s daughter. Like when we’re in public I literally always have to be on my best behavior. He doesn’t ever let me leave the apartment in sweatpants and…”

“Some days you just want him to be Steve.” Ellie nodded with understanding. “You know, you said Steve never really got over my Dad.”

“Yeah.” Betsy agreed. “Like I’ve never seen him really look at anyone else, besides Peggy I mean. But that’s different.”

“Right of course.” Ellie nodded again. “And you know I’ve never seen Dad really interested in anyone else either. Like sure men, and women, have tried. The delivery driver who brings gasoline to the shop once a month for example. I mean Dad still has a picture of Steve taped to his toolbox. What if there was a way that we could get them together? Like Together together.”

“So you want to set our dads up?” Betsy questioned.

“Sure.” Ellie shrugged. “Why not? Look I can tell that you really want to get to know Dad, and I really want to get to know…Dad…we’re going to have to find a better way to differentiate between them.”

“Well, we do look a lot alike.” Betsy acknowledged, biting her lip. “I bet we could switch places and they’d hardly notice.”

“Switch places?” Ellie laughed. “They’d figure us out immediately! I mean sure we might look a like but Betsy we’re still different people.”

“I know, I know.” Betsy agreed. “But we have a month before we go home right? We could teach each other how to be more like each other. And If we switch places we’ll get a little time together with each other’s Dads. They’ll have to switch us back eventually, so we just have to make sure that by the time we’re ready to switch back we’ve helped them fall back in love with each other.”

“Do you think that could work?” Ellie asked.

“I think we should try.” Betsy told her.

“Can I think about it?” Ellie was uncertain.

“Sure.” Betsy nodded. “But it was your idea to try and get them back together. I think this is the best way to do it.  Otherwise what are we supposed to do? Go home at the end of camp and pretend that we never met?”

“Couldn’t we just tell them the truth? That we met at camp and we want to stay in each other’s lives?” Ellie suggested.

“Do you think that will work?” Betsy was skeptical. “I mean they’ve kept us apart for the last thirteen years.”

“No, you’re right.” Ellie sighed. “Okay.” She decided, getting to her feet. “Let’s do it.” She held out a hand to her sister expectantly. Betsy jumped up too. She took the hand that Ellie offered and shook it.

Starting immediately the next morning Betsy and Ellie began coaching each other on how to become each other. Ellie walked Betsy through her complicated morning routine, including how she got here eyeliner to look just right. Betsy started telling Ellie everything she needed to know about living with the Avengers. For the next week and a half they worked while doing camp activities to help prepare for their big switch.

“I’ve just realized something.” Ellie frowned one afternoon as she and Betsy canoed around the lake together. “My hair is bleached at the ends and yours isn’t.”

“You want to bleach my hair?” Betsy frowned from the back of the canoe.

“No. I think we should cut it. I’ll cut mine too.” Ellie promised. “If we both cut our hair, we can just tell Dads that it was really hot at camp. We won’t cut to too short, just to our shoulders.”

“I guess.” Betsy continued to paddle. “As long as I can still put it up whenever I’m no pretending to be you.”

“Great!” Ellie squealed excitedly. “We can get Joss to help us! Her Mom’s a hairdresser!”

“Now wait just a minute, I said you could cut my hair, not Joss.” Betsy argued. “She’s so jittery she’ll probably cut my hair crooked.”

“Oooh Do you think we should get bangs?” Ellie was obviously not listing to her sister’s objections as she abandoned her paddle on the floor of the canoe and pulled a section of hair forward in front of her face. She twisted the section of hair trying to imagine what she would look like with bangs.

“Absolutely not!” Betsy insisted. “Pick up your paddle and help me. We’ll never make it back in time for lunch if you don’t.”

“Fine.” Ellie rearranged her hair to its normal position before picking up the paddle and helping Betsy canoe.

“Are you ready for this?” It was the last day of camp. Ellie and Betsy stood inside their cabin. Their bags were packed, and the girls were spending their last minutes together before their big switch.

Betsy had woken early that morning and curled her hair and put make up the way Ellie had shown her. She was wearing a flowy floral dress and impractical open toed sandals that Ellie Assured her were fashionable. Ellie, used to waking early every day lounged in bed most of the morning before running a brush through her hair and putting it up in a Ponytail. She was wearing Betsy’s favorite brown leather hiking boots and her signature denim jacket that she hardly ever took off all summer.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Betsy sighed. “I can’t believe you got all of this here on a plane. Actually, I can’t believe I have to take it all with me on a plane now.”

“I can’t believe you went away to camp for a month and this is all you brought.” Ellie commented holding up Betsy’s duffle bag and backpack.  

“I’m going to miss you, El.” Betsy was the first to say.

“Ohh Bets I’m gonna miss you too! We’ll see each other again soon, I promise. Hug?” Ellie opened her arms to her sister. Betsy complied, pulling Ellie into a tight hug.

“Okay, he’s here.” Betsy told Ellie about Steve. “Last thing left to do,” She held her cellphone out to her sister. Ellie took the phone and swapped it with her own. “You’ll text me when you get home, right?”

“Of course!” Ellie agreed. “And you’ll text me when you land?”

“Absolutely.” Betsy nodded.

“Alright, I’d better go.” Ellie decided. With one last look at her sister, She left the cabin.

[averyscarlet-blog]

Percy’s Story Pt. 1

The Naive Knight

Warning: Slightly R-18

Theme(s): Coming of Age, Power & Corruption

Type: Original Story

Featured Original Character(s): Perseus/Percy and Rei

Other Character(s): Rayner, Jankin, Tybaut

Inspiration: The Tale of King Arthur

Summary: Not everyone gets the chance to obtain what others have sought for for years. In Perseus's case, he was able to obtain everything he was looking for. But at what cost? Was there truly no other way to obtain one's knighthood? That's what he asked himself. By the time he had obtained what he sought for, many of his closest friends had died in his place, backstabbed by someone he almost viewed as a brother.

Since I was a child, my grandfather had always wanted me to achieve great things. Far greater than my father, him, and his father before him. There was only one thing I could think of that could place my name in history, and that's by taking over Camelot. The Saxons failed because of the lack of proper equipment to fight against the Britons strong defense. The only reason the King fell was because his failure to properly maintain his important bonds, especially with his own queen and his most trusted Knight. I could rule the land King Arthur and his Knights had sacrificed their lives in protecting, bring the peace they dreamed of. With the recent loss of their monarch, the kingdom is open for the taking, anyone could claim the throne if they want. Aside from that, there is another issue to be dealt with, the remaining knights of the round table.

Without their King to guide them, they became a flock of lost little sheep. I’m not even certain if they are willing to allow anyone, let alone an outsider, take the throne. In order to gain their trust, I need the very reason they followed King Arthur.

All I needed to do was tearch for the weapon that once acted as a beacon of light, the weapon that made many kneel before its bearer and slew those that went against them. Excalibur. The magical blade which was lost after the Battle of Camlann. I’ve heard stories of where it was left, but the only person that I know is still breathing and out in the open that could tell me. And that person is the former Queen of Camelot, Guinevere. Last I heard, she was taking up residence in a convunt. If all else fails, I have to locate the so-called powerful wizard himself, Merlin.

He disappeared into the magical forest, Brocéliande, after the King's death. In order to start my journey, to test if I'm truly strong enough to face such trials, I had to fight and kill my grandfather. I didn't want to, but he was right, I'll be facing foes far stronger than him on my journey, and if I want to prepare for such encounters, I have face of someone that I'm on the same level as. And that's my grandfather. Before we started, he told me to put a blindfold on. I didn't understand why I needed one, especially since I have long since passed that part of my training, but I did as I was told. My grandfather wasn’t as young as anyone initially believed him to be, though I can understand why.

Despite being in his eighties, his platinum blonde hair never turned gray, the skin of his was almost absent of any age lines, and most curious of all, remained just as strong after all those years. Honestly, whenever I compare myself to him, appearance and personality-wise, I had some difficulty believing that we were of the same blood. Hell, I even questioned his age. He was rambunctious, a flirt, short tempered man that rarely acted as an adult when around strangers. The fact he could hardly hold his alcohol after two cups reminded me of myself when I was younger. I could hardly drink through half a cup on my first try. I could hardly get through half a cup.

Still, despite his flaws, people were always drawn to him. I could never tell if they were attracted to his personality, that large grin he wears even in battle, or both. An oddly youthful-looking elderly man who held the valor and pride of a knight; and is also one of the strongest swordsman in all the land.

That’s how I always viewed him as, until my sword pierced through his armor. It was only a split second, but when he accidentally sliced the cloth from my face, the same mysterious eye color we both shared was filled with grief. By the time I realized what I had just done, I had already plunged my sword in his heart. I can still recall the surge of emotions I felt that day. My only issue was I didn’t know how to express them all at the same time. The one thing I could stare down at his bleeding corpse with expressionless eyes.

My entire body felt numb. My mind was clouded, only his face appeared in my thoughts on repeat. I don’t even know how long I’d been standing there, watching as the pool of blood began to reach my feet.

Only my eyes knew how to react, and that was by crying the same tears as my grandfather. Despite dying with a smile, for the first time since my father’s death, he cried. Not because he was going to die, he cried because he was going to leave me by myself. That when I realized the true purpose behind my blindfold. It was to hide the fact that he was holding back by using his non-dominant arm. It was to keep me from seeing his true feelings, preventing from feeling any remorse for pointing my blade at him. He wanted me to be free of such feelings, to walk the path he had laid out for me. 

He wasn’t the strongest knight. He was a simple man that, rather than wasting his life by serving under a crown, chose to use his strength to protect others, use his charm to lift the spirits of many. Upon performing the burial rites, I raised my sword and vowed to follow his example. I may not be successful, I may even scare off several people for trying too hard to be like him, but I will in memory of him. Although I do not know what has happened in Camelot since King Arthur’s passing, but I had hoped the Knights of the Round table were able to maintain some form of stability when I arrive.

Sadly, it wasn’t the case. When I arrived, everything was in a disarray. Poverty riddled the land as far as the eye can see. Homes appeared as it they would crumble from even the slightest touch. Shops were either abandoned, destroyed, or had little to no customers inside. I had hoped to encounter at least one patrolling soldier that could point me in the right direction, but all I met were apprehensive stares and fearful cries when approached. I can understand if the Knights of the Round table had some difficulty maintaining certain parts of the kingdom, but never in my dreams did I imagine things to turn out like this. As I wondered around what I assume was the marketplace, I ran into a girl, an exotic one at that.

She had partially dark skin, silky brown hair and... Yellow eyes. The same color as mine and my grandfather. I didn’t have the chance to approach her as I was taken by her striking beauty. Her outlandish appearance did help me chase after her, but when I was so close to reaching her, she disappeared. I’ve never seen anyone with such an appearance before in my life. Could I be a descendant of her people? I hope that once I obtain my sword I am able to find her.

As I resumed my search for answers, I stumbled upon a church. It was the only structure that was properly maintained. In hopes of receiving a point in the right direction, I met with the priest and prodded as much as I was allowed. And ironically, the woman I was hoping to meet enters the church. Despite no longer adorning the attire of a noble and only wearing black clothing, she carried herself with high regard as she walked into the room. The way she moved, the way she maintained a neutral face, it’s no wonder she was chosen as Queen. Her beauty was not as well described from the stories I heard.

From what I know, many had approached King Arthur, begging, hoping they’d look their way. The only one that was able to capture his attention was Guinevere, whom he met after helping King Leodegrance defeat a rival king. When I approached her, I had recalled her past; her affair with Sir Lancelot. I felt ashamed to approach her with the sole intent of finding her deceased husband’s sword. She was clearly still grieving, hence the pulled back veil and the black dress. While I do not know the details that led to the end of the affair, I am certain that many still hold some malice towards the former Queen for her ‘betrayal’ towards the King’s feelings.

Still, with a nervous breath through the nostrils, I greeted, “How fair thee Your Majesty.”

Taken aback at the formal address, she merely laughs. “Your Majesty... it’s been quite a long time since I was called such a title.”

“Ah... I’m sorry...” I apologized and bowed my head.

“There’s no need to apologize. I’m simply merely pleased to know there are still others that hold me in such high regard.” Her smile, although real, held a hidden sadness. “I see you’re a swordsman,” she noted.

“Y-Yes!” I stammer, failing to hide the two weapons which hung from my hip.

“May I see them?” Guinevere requests.

 I do so without objection. At first, I felt a surge of pride when I handed her my blade. I made it myself when grandfather had me become an apprentice of a blacksmith, hoping it would put some muscle in my previously thin arms. The sword had a basket-shaped guard with a blade almost similar to a rapier.

“My, what an interesting sword... I can tell just how much love was put into its creation.”

I felt a little bashful at the comment. When I was about to reach for the other, I hesitated. My grandfather’s broadsword. Even if he was holding back, it’s a wonder how I was able to fight against him. After exchanging weapons, I panicked when she suddenly began to cry.

“This is.... Rayner’s weapon.”

Realizing that she knew my grandfather, I bitterly took advantage of the situation and told her of my heritage and my purpose for travelling to Camelot. She wasn’t upset as I had anticipated nor was she disappointed. Rather, she seemed relatively calm to learn someone was searching for her husband’s blade with the sole intention of taking the throne. I could have lied to her, but I felt I had an obligation to be truthful towards her after learning she had known my grandfather. She was saddened to learn of his recent passing, but she understood his reasons. 

Guinevere admitted that while she doesn’t know what had happened to the sword, she knows who was the person present for when he drew his last breath. Sir Bedivere. That was all I wanted to know. Not wanting to linger any longer, I said my farewells and took my leave.

Before I did, she called out, “If you happen to encounter Lancelet during your journey, please tell him... I’m sorry.”

I stopped midway from the door. I told her, “I may not know what had happened between you three nor do I want to know the reasons. As a man inexperienced in love, I may yet understand what had led you to make the decisions to did back then, or I may never will. I do know this, if you truly love someone, you do not give up on them and wait. I’m certain Lancelot is waiting for you somewhere, so rather than having a stranger pass on the message, please face him yourself.”

My search for Sir Bedivere was far more challenging that locating the former Queen; his whereabouts were unknown. Everywhere I went, no one knew exactly where he is. They didn't even know where he lives. All I heard were rumors; rumors that did not match up or make any logical sense. The most outrageous one I heard was that he had travelled across the neverending sea to fight against mythical creatures in honor of the king. On my way, I met various people along my travels. While many still saw me as a mere boy, they respected my skills with the sword during combat.

Eventually, I made several friends along the way, some of them agreeing to join my journey. Jankin, born from a line of knights, was the oldest but not the wisest man. He always picked fights left and right, even when sober. That’s how we met, inside a tavern completely before we ended up butting heads for no particular reason. Even now, I still have no idea how I invited him to join, he just approached me after my hangover and told me he was ready for the quest. Tybaut was a well-known thief of the next village I visited. He attempted to steal mine and Jankin’s swords, but the man, just as quick as he is in drinking a mug of beer, snatches back longsword before he got far. He was a surpisingly lean man for someone that could move so swiftly.

Instead of arresting him, I offered him to join our party. Since I had unknowingly invited Jankin while drunk, I thought it’d make sense to expand our numbers. Plus, I saw what happened to criminals when caught, they lose their hands. While I understand the reasons, I found no justice in such a cruel act. I promised to provide all of his needs so long as he swears to never steal for himself ever again. He was uncertain at first, especially since I was still a teen, but he agrees and joins us. The last two were siblings, brothers in fact.

One of them would become my long time best friend, as well as one of my greatest foes.

[feelsgood-anon]

Eros - Bar AU Chapter 6

DISCLAIMER: THIS PIECE IS A MYSTIC MESSENGER AU.  IT IS HEAVILY INSPIRED BY THE AMERICAN SITCOM CHEERS, A SHOW CENTERED AROUND A BOSTON BAR CALLED CHEERS AND IT’S REGULARS.  EVEN THOUGH I HAVE TRIED TO KEEP AS MUCH OF CANON PERSONALITIES WITH ALL THE MYSTIC MESSENGER CHARACTERS JUST REMEMBER THAT IT IS AN AU AND A FEW THINGS MAY BE DIFFERENT THAN IN GAME OR YOUR HEADCANONS. THIS HAS BEEN FUN TO PLAN AND I HOPE YOU FIND A BIT OF JOY READING IT!  

PG13+ FOR SWEARIN’ AND BOOZIN’.

CH.1 PT.1 | CH. 1 PT. 2 | CH. 2 | CH. 3 | CH. 4 | CH. 5 |  Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 |

Swinging in the backyard Pull up in your fast car Whistling my name Open up a beer And you say, get over here And play a video game

I'm in his favorite sun dress Watching me get undressed Take that body downtown I say you the bestest Lean in for a big kiss Put his favorite perfume on Go play your video game

Red rolled his head around as he let out a loud yawn. His eyes blinked firmly a few times as the bottles of liquor fuzzed before him. He was tired as hell and could barely keep from falling into a short nap behind the bar.

 “Yo, sleeping beauty, my order? Hello?” Cannon smacked his brother a few times with his notepad, “Wake up, I don't have all day.”

 Red recoiled as he felt the hits, grumbling as he finished up the drinks he had earlier started, “Cut me some slack, man. I'm running on three hours of sleep.”

 “Not my fault, you’re the one who stayed out all night after your shift. You should've thought about how tired you'd be before you went and had a late night rendezvous.”

 Zen slid a full shot glass towards Red, “Take that, it will help. I need you alert, it's getting a bit busy.”

 In his dazed confusion he took the shot obediently, eyes widening as the liquor burned down his throat and into his stomach. “Damnit, Zen! What the hell did you give me?”

 “Just a bit of 151, it won't hurt yah.”

 “You're trying to kill me with that rubbing alcohol?” Red coughed out, “I'm sure as shit awake now, my life flashed before my eyes.” He finished Cannon’s order and placed it on the tray, rubbing at his chest, “You could have at least warned me.”

 Zen pat his back firmly a few times, “You would have objected if you knew what it was. Help me get these drinks for Sunny, she's got a table of eight waiting.”

 Jingle~!

 “There’s the man of the hour!”

 “Tom!”

 Red looked up from the beers he was filling up, smirking towards the man that walked in, “Fancy seeing you in here.”

 Tom. A squirrelly, lanky type with a head of shaggy brown hair that came to Eros often only to shoot the breeze with Red who was one of his best friends. They lived in the same neighborhood as kids and often got into trouble when they were together.

 “Hey Tom, how's life in the fast lane?” Zen called out, eyes too busy mixing drinks to turn properly to address the man.

 “I dunno, got stuck on the on-ramp. I'll let you know when the traffic let's up.” Tom sat himself in front of Red and gave him a wide grin, “So that was fun yesterday, eh? We should go out more often, you're always stuck at work.”

 “Yeah, being an adult with responsibilities sure is the pits. Why aren't you at work? It's still pretty early for you to be here.”

 Tom shrugged, “They think I'm in the bathroom. I'll give it about half an hour before they start wondering where I am. That’s not important, though. That sassy blonde was asking me about you this morning. She sure was disappointed that you left with-”

 Red cleared his throat loudly, glaring at his friend, “Tom, how’s your girlfriend? Still out of town for college?”

 The brunette frowned, “How about a beer, bartender? Why are you being so sensitive?”

 “What I do in my spare time doesn’t have to be showcased here,” Red hissed, “Just keep things to yourself, alright?”

 “What did you do last night, Red? It must have been quite the party if you came to work so tired!” Zen poked into their conversation, casually pouring a few drinks for a fresh order, “You didn’t even invite me! Any pretty ladies?”

 Red groaned now that Zen had overheard, “We played video games all night. You know me, so nerdy.”

 Tom snickered as he took a sip, “Oh, we played alright…”

 “How about a round of shots on me?” Red called out as he tapped his hands loudly against the bar top, “But don’t let Zen pour them, he’ll knock you out until next week!”

 Zen let off a pout as he finally backed off, “Fine fine, sheesh. Don’t let your ol’ pal in on your fun.” His attention was stolen by a few ladies that had walked up to the bar, all thoughts of trying to find out what his employee had done the night prior flew out of his mind as he flashed them a smile, “Well hello~ What can I get you gorgeous women? A drink? A shot? Me?”

 The group giggled and one of them leaned forward as she looked him over, “Could we get a few martinis? We’re celebrating my birthday and having a girl’s night out.”

 His red eyes sparkled as she had given him quite the bit of attention, “Well happy birthday! Of course you can get some martinis! First round is on the house for the birthday girl.”

 “And next round is on me!” Tom interjected, smiling deviously at them.

 “The round of shots after that? You can take them off me. They’ll be free if any of you ladies can find my ticklish spot.” Zen countered, now feeling the need to exert a bit of dominance since Tom had slid his way into the exchange.

 “You boys are silly!” One of the other girls laughed, “We’ll be sitting at the table over there if you want to come join us.”

 Tom stood up and shot Zen a wink, “Don’t mind if I do. Put their drinks on my tab.”

 Zen scowled as they walked off towards the table knowing he was far too busy to join them, “You know, Red, your friend really kills my mood.”

 “Leave me out of this~” the other bartender sang out, “I want nothing to do with you two’s flirting battle. As you said before, we are getting pretty busy, let’s stay on top of things.”

 Jingle~!

 “Hey Everyone!”

 “Duckie!”

 The blonde smiled and waved, making his way towards the bar before he heard a voice call to him, “Duckie! Kiddo! Come join us!” He whirled around to look at the summons and seeing Tom surrounded by multiple women he dashed to hide around the bar. “Damn! Why does that guy always try to round me up in his escapades! I thought he was out of town for work, Red?”

 Red slid a glass of beer towards him, “Yeah, he got back two days ago. He was going to call you last night but I told him you’d broken your phone. You’re welcome, by the way.”

 “Yeah, thanks for that! He keeps trying to set me up! What is with that guy?”

 “He wants everyone to have a good time, and he feels sorry for you. You’re a bit lame when it comes to getting dates.”

 “What!” Duckie exclaimed, “I do just fine on my own! In fact, I have a date this weekend!”

 “Study groups don’t count, bud.” Zen said as he placed some glasses in the sink to wash, “You gotta get ‘em one on one. You know, a nice dinner, maybe a movie. Why don’t you ever go out with...wait a minute!” he glared at Red, “You guys invite Duckie but you don’t invite me? What gives, man?”

 Red let out a sigh, “Look, I don’t go out, it’s Tom. If you went, you’d steal all of the attention and he wouldn’t be happy with that. Look at him now.” He nodded his head towards the table, “He’s probably pulling out every line in the book on those girls and if you were there they would be fawning all over you. Let him have this one, Zen. You get enough numbers already.”

 Cannon lazily came up and set his tray down at the bar top, “Speaking of which, another round of martinis for Tom’s table. They also asked when those body shots would be ready.”

 Zen quickly whipped up the drinks, adding a round of shots to the tray along with a salt shaker and some limes, “I’ll take these myself. Red, watch the bar for a few. If Tom wants a battle, then he’ll get one!”

 As the guys watched him walked towards the table, he placed the tray on to the side, “I heard you were requesting those shots?”

 Tom frowned but didn’t object as to not ruin the mood all around. He knew he had to pull his biggest tricks to take some of the attention off the other male that could woo a room just by flashing a smile. “Just remember what he said, ladies. You find the spot where he’s ticklish and they are free!”

 Zen bowed his head slightly, “Yes, I did promise that and I am a man of my word! So, who’s first? Who thinks they can find it? Just sprinkle the salt where you think it’ll make me hot!”

 Cannon scoffed as he went towards a table that had waved him over, “Does that shit work on anyone?”

 “You’d be surprised.” Red said flatly, “It’s gotta be his looks that make them forget he says the dumbest things sometimes.”

 “What’s going on over there?” Sunny piped up as she had approached the bar from the back area, “Some sort of special event?”

 “I think some girls are going to take body shots off Zen. That guy...he’s my hero.” Duckie sighed as he turned back around, “He could get a date whenever he wants.”

 She scrunched her nose in disapproval, “What a gross display. Are these things they really do in public? How much more macho can someone be?”

 “Me first, me first!” One of the girls squealed out. She motioned him to unbutton his shirt which he did, showcasing his amazing physique to the other girls. Poking at the skin right above his belt, he grinned mischievously, “My my, you are bold! I’m going to have to lay down for this.” He cleared the table off and draped himself a top it. He put a slice of lime in his mouth as the girl sprinkled salt on the area. She quickly took the shot and licked slowly along his skin before reaching her lips over to take the slice from him. He waggled his eyebrows at her making her spit the lime to the floor and pressing a kiss to his lips. The folks around the table cheered, Zen moved to stand up keeping his arms around the girl, “Close, but not the right place! Hey, you know what? I’ll change the rules. Find a ticklish spot on either me or Tom and the drinks are free! Who wants to give him a try?”

 Tom shot a surprised look towards Zen, “What? I mean, yeah!” The white-haired male leaned in to whisper in his ear, “Look, I don’t know what idea you have about me, but I’m not greedy. I’ll always make sure you have a good time too.” A smile spread across Tom’s face as he carefully nodded in response, “Ah, perhaps I did misjudge you. No hard feelings, eh? Ladies~!” He pulled up his shirt, “Zen has made a grave mistake since I am very ticklish so pick your place!”

 Sunny rolled her eyes as the acts continued, “How disgusting. It sometimes truly amazes me how barbaric humans can be.”

 “Jealous that you can’t lick Zen?” Cannon jeered towards the girl as he set up his tray, “I’m sure if you just asked nicely he’d be more than happy to oblige.”

 “That’s not it!” She cried, cheeks blushing furiously at the thought, “Some people just have no shame! I have half a mind to go over there and say something-”

 The presumed birthday girl came around from the restrooms and stopped at the bar, eyeing Red carefully, “Say, your friend Tom over there said you were really into playing video games. I like playing games too. Maybe you could come over to my place after you get out of work and...go a few rounds with me.”

 Sunny clapped her hands together and gave a big smile, “Now see! Here’s a woman with some sense! She doesn’t care for that ridiculousness that is happening over at the table and wants to share a common hobby with you. There is hope in this place!”

 The woman quirked a brow at her and nodded slowly, “Right...well...here’s my number…” She slid a piece of paper towards Red, “I know a few other people that might want to join in, if you’re interested.” Waving her fingers to him she walked back towards her friends, Red reached over and took the number to place in his pocket.

 “Really, Sunny? Did that go over your head?” Cannon let out incredulously.

 “Huh? What do you mean?”

 He walked behind the bar and leaned over to whisper a few things into her ear. She let out a gasp and glared at Red, “You too? I work with pigs! I’m going to check on my tables.”

 Red finished up the rush of orders that had come in staying mostly silent the entire time except for a soft chuckle in response to Sunny’s reaction. His brother stared at him, “So you’re really going to just keep quiet? Act like nothing happened? If they only knew-”

 “Knew that I liked to play video games a lot with friends? Yeah, they know that and that’s how they will continue to think. My personal affairs are not for public consumption, you all get enough of that with Zen. Order up, Cannon, you’ve got work to do.”

 Cannon sighed deeply and took his tray, “Whatever you say, bro.”

 Red pulled the paper out once everyone was distracted, looking at it then towards the girl at the table who managed to catch his gaze and shoot him a wink, “A few rounds indeed.”

 “Say Red,” Duckie waved him over, “Why don’t you ever play video games with me? I know you do it a lot and so do I. You never invite me!”

 “Well you see, Duckie,” Red walked over to refill the beer glass for the blonde, “I’ll let you in on a little secret. I don’t actually play video games. Tom and I go scouting the town for people to bring home. Pretty ladies...handsome guys...you know. Anyone that wants a good time. So we head back to his place since he lives alone. Sure, we play games. Strip poker, naked twister. But by the end of the night it really just turns into a huge orgy! He wants to invite you for specific reasons, you know. Sometimes there are just too many ladies to handle and we could use some helping satisfying them all!”

 Duckie sat mouth gaping open as he listened. He finally shook his head and glared at Red, “Like hell you do that! I know your life isn’t that exciting! If you don’t want to play games with me you don’t have to make up an elaborate lie like that. Geez…”

 “You’re right, buddy, i’m sorry. We both know I’m not capable of anything like that. I’ll make you a deal! Next time I have an all-nighter with games you’ll be the first I call, okay?”

 Duckie huffed and nodded, “You better! Ugh...strip poker...orgies...you have a really wild imagination, you know that?”

 “Yeah...imagination...Cannon! Order up!”

  **************

  The next afternoon at Eros was forgiving as the customer flow was a bit slower than the day before. Red let out a loud yawn as he filled a glass with beer from the tap to pass to a patron down the end of the bar.

 Zen handed him a cup of coffee, “It has Bailey’s in it, just so you know.”

 “Funny that you mention what’s in it when it won’t kill me.”

 “Funny that you are, once again, tired out of your mind. You really should have joined Tom and I last night. Man...was it crazy!” Zen sipped from his own cup of coffee, “Did a new game come out or something? You’ve been staying up pretty late these past few nights.”

 Red hummed a bit as he drank, “Yeah, new game. Did you two have a good time?”

 “I’ll say! You know that fiery little lady that kissed me on the table? Turns out that’s not the only trick she had up her-”

 “I get it, I get it. No need for details.” Red groaned out, “I’ll just have to hear it again from Tom. Looks like you two get along now which is good. Maybe you both will stop competing.”

 Zen shrugged, “A little competition never hurt anyone, but overall I think we both know we are on the same team. Hey, weird thing. The girl who’s birthday it was disappeared after a while. I wonder where she went? She was pretty cute, I bet she is a great kisser.”

 “She is. And so is her boyfriend.”

 “Oh, she had a boyfriend? No wonder she really didn’t stick around.”

 Red nodded and watched his boss from the corner of his eye, waiting for the moment.

 “Wait, you know she’s a good kisser? You know her boyfriend is a good kisser?! Red, what the hell?” Zen sputtered, dribbling coffee down his chin.

 There was the moment.

 “Hmm? What was that?” Red smirked from behind his mug, “A brand new game, came out a few days ago. It’s been keeping me rather interested.”

 Zen slammed his mug on the bar top and towered over Red, “Alright, spill. What the hell were you up to last night?”

 Red pointed towards Zen’s shirt that had started to stain with coffee, “I think you’ve spilled enough for the both of us, boss.”

 “Damnit!” Zen exclaimed as he dabbed a towel along his chest, “I’m going to go change but when I get back you are telling me everything! I knew you weren’t holed up in your apartment all the time!”

 The other bartender removed his glasses from his face to wipe the lenses with his shirt, “Video games, boss!” He called out, “It’s just video games!” He laughed to himself, pulling out the piece of paper with the phone number from his pocket as soon as he placed his glasses back on, “Ah well, at least the ending was good.” He carefully tore it up, sprinkling the shreds into the trashcan before busying himself with a few drinks.

 “Hey Red!” Sunny called out as she leaned across the bar top waiting for him to fill up her serving tray, “I thought Zen gave everyone a nickname and is really adamant about only addressing them in that way.”

 “He does!” He replied, “At least to anyone he sees more than once. I thought he explained it to you?”

 She shrugged slightly, “He did, but you guys call your friend by his name. Why is he an exception?”

 “Who, Tom?” Red inquired, “That is his nickname.”

 “Sounds like a real name to me.”

 “Nah, he’s simply Tom.”

 Sunny squinted her eyes at him, “That just...doesn’t seem right. Everyone else has some weird name with an explanation! What’s the story behind Tom?”

 “No story.” He said plainly, “He’s just Tom.”

 “So it’s just...Tom? Your friend Tom?”

 “Yeah!”

 She rubbed at her temples with two fingers, “Why do I even continue to stay employed here.”

 “Because you have work to do. Order up!”

tags! @illneverrecover @zenscrotch @suzunesays @serensama

[undermycitadel]

Evangelina//Request//Part 3

I aroused that next morning from my dreamless slumber by the strong aroma of rose perfume. My eyes barely peered through the sheets to protect my eyes from the sunlight illuminating what seemed to be only in my direction. Where was I? Why did I have a wicked headache? Why was I in a mysterious room? The warmth of the blanket was like an oven cooking me underneath, burning me into the bed, bound by the sweat of my brow. I was opposite a bed with another snoring body under its velvet blankets like how I slept, on my side. If I paid close attention to my surroundings the night before, I would have known but It hadn’t dawned on me that I woke up in the place I resigned last night. I turned in the blankets, away from the world, and to the wall, groaning into the cause. Wherever the clock lay, it was too early for me to care. Later when I’d had enough, my legs took to the vanity mirror. The mirror was very beautiful. Like an object, my mother would plastic and never let me breathe on. Carved by the gods, the wood frame was a rich, chocolate brown, and if I squinted, I could see through the crusts in my eyes the delicately carved flowers in the wood. Marvelous. Unlike the vanity, I was horrid. My makeup was smeared, hair was weathered. You’re only as old as you feel, I thought aloud. I winced at the thought of finger-combing the knots out of my hair. “Fuck,” I grinned because no one could hear me. My skin was so horrible it was hysterical. If you squinted then you could detect some scarce pimples on a bad day. Crust under my eyes and dried up saliva on the corners of my dried lips. The classic example of a wreck. Maybe I giggled a bit louder than I’d like to and caused a stir from the other bed.

“Mmm...No, pas bon, Gaston. Oui, pas bon…” muttered the dead body.

“Oui?” I repeated, not knowing what language she was dreaming in.

Without waking the other body in the room, I slipped a towel from my bag and snuck into the bathroom down the hall. Before noon any sound I made was loud. The tiniest toe on the floor boards would wake my parents in a frenzy. On that Saturday morning, the clock struck ten and my steps were comparable to those of an elephant. Unlike the night before, I cared. Therefore, I made an effort not to wake up the house. My manners.

I was fine, finally. My long hair was tamed with an elastic, my wardrobe made an effort to brighten my mood; rose gold silk skirt, flat shoes, and a white blouse. No black, nothing black for my sake. With an outfit as sweet as this there had to plan for the evening. Brigitte would think of something. She had a million things in her mind scrambled. Even without plans, we’d walk around Dartford past the ugly bits where craters melted into the grass fields from the war. Strawberry bushes where we’ll pick from the earth and eat till we hate them. I needed a distraction from my rituals because I’d go crazy sitting down when I have freedom to do what I please. What I could never do in NYC.

When I opened Brigitte’s bedroom door I should have known to knock. She was in her undergarments, pulling a teal jumper over her gray mop of hair. She wore nothing to cover her pubescent breasts but the sweater she was tending to. Her legs were shaved and I was jealous. Mother never let me shave. But I also never saw an undressed girl before; Dad hid his Playboys. I dropped my bag, eyes wide in her glory, and my mouth was parted slightly as I failed to muster any words in my defense. Brigitte was only startled by the sudden plop of fabric on the floor. She turned, ready to shield her modesty but she let her guard down once she says it was me. Her furrowed brow eased and her squinted eyes squinted even more because she was laughing. “Oh my god,” she giggled. “You scared me half to death.”

I responded with a nervous laugh. “Sorry.” While I was relieved that no boundaries were pushed, I was still on edge. An ounce of myself still thought I would be in hot water after Brigitte signaled things were cool. I’ll blame Mother for that.

“Oh, that’s quite alright, Evangelina. No shame in a bit of skin, eh?” She continued to dress. There certainly was no shame in her nudity. She was beautiful and had no reason to feel ashamed for other people watching. Maybe that’s why she didn’t mind getting close to her friend, Mick. I don’t know why. I don’t know why I didn’t have her confidence. I nodded in agreement as I got the bag up then set it down on the bed where I sat Indian style. I watched her open her dresser and pull out a folded pair of black hot pants and dress.

“What do you want to do today, Angie?” She asked as she put her left leg in.

“I haven’t thought about it much, really,” I lied.

“Good.”

“Good, why?”

“Because I know what we’re going to do today, silly,” she snickered.

I loved her laugh.

“Remember Mick? The sonofabitch you met yesterday, right?”

“It’s only been one day. That’s entirely too short of an amount of time to forget a face.”

“Well after you fell asleep, he called. Said he was going to a bonfire with some of his friends and we should come.”

“Okay...so are we going?” My excitement blossomed. I’d always wanted to participate in a bonfire, however, you do so. The urge to jump out of my skin and prance around submerged me. The best I could do to suppress it was to tether my hands under my thighs.

“Obviously, Angie. He’ll be over at around six.” Her sarcasm didn’t bother me like it should have. “I think he likes you,” she gossiped.

My heart dropped. No boy ever had the hots for me in school. Boys would never approach me either. Often when a boy in my class came up to me the purpose was to either ask for answers to an equation or to poke fun at my thick eyebrows. I’d only known of Mick Jagger for less than twenty-four hours and he thought I was cute? Likewise, but I wasn’t going to protest. I supposed every girl would love to steal a kiss from him.

“What makes you think that?” I asked.

Brigitte giggled,”With the way, he was staring at you yesterday, anyone would believe me.”

“He wasn’t staring!”

“You weren’t looking!”

I shot her a look of confusion. One to say, “elaborate,” and she did, giggling all the way.

“Mick’s always been so obvious to me when he was interested in the opposite gender...And he’s always told me.”

“...He’s told you?” My cheeks began to flush through my seemingly calm demeanor. Who would I be out of character if I were to flake out over an alleged love interest? But my face was on fire, and smiling like a toddler with sweet would only cool it. Brigitte saw me and caught the drift and was quick on her feet to interrogate.

“...You like him, don’t you Evangelina?” She scurried to my bed. Bless her,

“I don’t know,” I blushed, “I mean, he is handsome-”   

“Of course he is,” she shouted after suddenly covering her mouth. She was surprised by her outburst of excitement and so was I. She giggled in spite of herself. Crazy girl, yet she continued. “He’s such a sweet lad, he even has a band- oh, and he’s loyal, too! He never tried anything on me and was always there for me when my boyfriends broke up with me.” As she came to the close of her lecture I could barely make out the words because she sped up due to the overpowering excitement. “A band” was what I heard over everything. The power of one-thousand strongmen was the only force to stop myself from sputtering with laughter but I was all ears. I was listening to the potentially valuable information about Mick.

I wanted to know more about him because If I was found attractive by him I wasn’t going to let an opportunity pass to get closer and perhaps spare a date. I could never do this at home. Never, but I wasn’t there and far away from it, too. He did look good. I could be bold this one time… She continued.

“He’ll be at the bonfire and you two will have plenty to talk about,” she strutted to the mirror to check herself out. But I still had questions to ask her. And I told her of my concerns. “Nope,” she declined any further interrogation, “you’ll have to ask him yourself, love.”

Bonfires were off limits back home. My school friends would often invite me but I had to decline because of the consent of my parents. Mother saw it unladylike to burn literature and dance with boys to rock and roll music bursting from the radios. Dad didn’t want his precious daughter’s mind corrupted by a bit of communal gathering. The last time I asked to go he made the argument that a lady should have more pride than to make her parents look bad. I could never make my parents look bad. But they’re far away. I can do what I please.

The simple pleasures were what I lived for. To pass time, Brigitte and I walked around the hollow melodies around the streets and telling old stories and made up tales. It felt nice to connect with another girl my age, again. Yesterday was so corrupt. Brigitte must have noticed my moodiness and made it a priority to make me smile at every other word she giggled or emphasized. Her Brothers, again, were out looking for work and playing sport, and her parents were out to work. We saw Mick down the block near 5:20 p.m. dressed rather dapper for a bonfire. Sort of mod; striped sweater and slacks. I’d never been to one, but my school friends talked it up to be fun. Anything fun was bad.  Brigitte and I sat on the stoop of her house making up for lost time. When she saw Mick, she went ballistic. As if Mick was her husband coming home from war and she was his troubled housewife. Then, I doubted he even liked me and preferred Brigitte instead. And he greeted her with open arms. How sweet. How friendly. You could never be as friendly in New York. I couldn’t hear their brief conversation, as they were farther down the block, but innuendo concluded I was the topic of gossip. On the stoop, I sat patiently while they conversed. Brigitte’s neck turned around to my attention every so often, peaking my curiosity, and the creases on the older boy’s face showed when she’d crack a joke, or he’d smile or react whenever something was said at my expense. I appreciated the little things about his face that I could observe from afar without him catching my peering eyes. The way he could bust a gut, yet, find the composure to transform into a serious state. Our relationship barely reached a ‘hello’ but already I felt a familiarity between us and my feelings towards him. Schoolgirl crush, I suppose. I felt at home, where my parents would chatter about my progress in school or how little I ate every day. They judged me and I didn’t like it, and I didn’t like those figures gleaming through the two teenagers who were supposed to be like me and not like my parents. I rest my elbows on my bare knees, risking the pink pressed color if put too long and allowed my shoulders to dip a bit. At least while they talked of me I could be comfortable. Maybe the chat was of the fun at the bonfire. I’d never been to a bonfire so I wouldn’t know. I must stop assuming things. It’ll only depress me to believe a loved one would suppress your good name.

A bit of laughter cluttered my post. No male voices. Only Brigitte supported by a Mick embarrassed to be seen with such a mess. I was polite so I stood to greet them like Mother taught me. A strange feeling came over me when my eyes met his. A pit formed in my stomach and a clam in my throat forced a cough into my elbow. “Excuse me, I’m so sorry,” I chuckled nervously. Brigitte was still coming down from her fit, and Mick didn’t seem to be upset by the supposed impoliteness on my behalf. He sprouted a few chucks, himself. Mom would have smacked me if I pulled something like that in front of my Grandparents. Even worse if she’d seen the bonfire.

“Hi Evangelina,” he greeted me. “I hear this is your first bonfire, is that right?”

I nodded. “Yeah, it is. I feel as though my trip will be full of firsts and this is just the first one.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he chuckled. “I’ll be sure to stick around long enough for most of them… You look nice this evening, Evangelina-”

“I thought I looked rather lovely, too, Jagger,” pouted Brigitte.

“And you do, love, but I do think Evangelina’s skirt is very pretty.” And I blushed and Brigitte agreed with him. “Don’t mind Brigitte, she’s a bit off on some things. Doesn’t know when to recognize a true beauty- can you believe her?” And I giggled modestly.

“Oh, piss off, Mick,” Brigitte smacked the base of his neck.

“Evangelina, do you now see what I have to put up with? I-I can’t get rid of her!”

“Unfortunately-,” I nodded, head slowly tilting to the ground, “and you don’t have to call me ‘Evangelina’. I know it’s kind of a mouthful.”

“How would you like to be addressed then?” he smirked.

“Everyone calls me Angie but that’s been so overused- I think. Few people at school call me ‘Lina’.”

Brigitte smiled, “That’s pretty Angie, I wanna start calling you that too!”

“No,” Mick mocked parents enforcing a rule, “That’ll be my name for her while she’s here.”

For a second my eyes looked past Mick to the winking Brigitte standing in the back of him. As if she’d planned for him to get defensive over me. God, if she planned this then she was much smarter than she led on.

Jagger’s eyes squinted as he sized me up, probably silently testing the name to see if it matched my exterior. Lina is most commonly used with girls with curvaceous bodies, alluring voices with long golden-blonde hair and cigarettes. I wasn’t too far off. I was quite thin, had curves for a girl my age, I didn’t smoke, and although my hair wasn’t blonde it was long enough and had my mother’s volume. And I loved her hair. So maybe I did have a chance. He saw the name fit and nodded his head.

“Lina…” the name lingered on his tongue. “I rather like it.”

Brigitte checked her watch. “Mick, who’s supposed to be there again? I remember Monica, Edgar, and Petra but I’ve forgotten who else.”

“Um, I believe Dolores was bringing Abel- and probably Giselle...” he started to walk forward, Brigitte followed next to him and I trailed close behind while he listed the friends to show up.

The prolonged walk to the designated area for flames took an hour of our time. After arriving I was no longer concerned about his early arrival because we’d arrived on time. Usually, I didn’t like walking for too long but I didn’t mind it once smothered with conversation. Like an Oreo cookie, I was sandwiched between them as we walked down the sidewalks, passing streets, and stepping stones to cross ponds. Brigitte held my hand the entire time. “You’ll get lost without me,” she reasoned, “hold my hand, love,” and I didn’t protest.

“Okay Mum,” Mick answered for me, causing Brigitte to break open the Oreo cookie bond to hit Mick, fulfilling the Mother character bestowed on her.

“I wonder how much you two go at each other,” I smiled modestly, giggling because Brigitte and Mick were too entertaining.

“Just a bit of fun, eh Brigitte?” Mick upped the intensity on his posh accent.

“Yes, Mr.Jagger, fun indeed,” she agreed, continuing the gag. Personally, I saw this as an attack to make me laugh. I did what I could to prevent any wheezing and snorts from escaping my mouth, and it was quite difficult when every other word Brigitte says is joke bashing Mick Jagger’s lips.

Walking wasn’t bad at all and we were to the scene in no more than thirty minutes just in time to meet the setting sun and flickering of fireflies. The fireflies in my stomach erupted again during the voyage. Every joke he made caused me great joy, every interesting fact he told us was extra interesting, and every detail on his sweater was clearer to me than a solution to an arithmetic equation. Obviously, the normality of my feelings was crushed and more frictionally driven. And the dimmed scene and fresh air certainly contributed. I was deprived of this joy elsewhere. Unlike the attention I’d receive back home I felt Mick was genuine and funny. I’ve felt this way before in elementary school over another nice boy in my class. I didn’t want it to be the same feeling, though, Mick had to be different. My first real crush.

However, my anxiety was the instrument of my demise. As more kids came to the bonfire I felt less of the good fireflies and more bees in my chest. I knew none of these people and were intimidated by the lovely looking girl with painted lips and shaven legs. I’d began to rethink my choice of hairstyle. Hours in, I tried to absorb the beautiful sight of the blazing flame, ombre sky, and glittery lake but I couldn’t bring myself to fully commit. So I sat on a log by a rich apricot tree facing the water, hoping to cool my pink face but then I heard his voice again. “No, no, no, you can’t fool me twice!” I heard Mick laugh. I turned around on the log to trace the voice only to see him close with a friend who wasn’t my cousin. Was I not good enough? I contemplated for a bit whether or not I should hang around or split and find my way back home. I wouldn’t be missed. And so I fled the scene, and sure enough, no one noticed my absence.

Isn’t it sad of familiar the night hours are? There I sat, on the stoop again, my head slung over my shoulders and blinded by the waves in my hair. Nights prior, I would do the same when my parents worked overtime or left for business trips while I stayed home on breaks. I was supposed to have fun. I was supposed to forget about what troubled me and now I felt the hurt more than ever. But I didn’t even make it to the damn fire. What the fuck? Feeling neglected was familiar already but something about being left out by someone you admire leaves a pit in your chest, unlike the whole in your heart that is left from parental neglect. felt right at home. Home was what I was trying to get away from but I wanted to go. Reader, understand how my hormones may have affected my internal conflict. Picture a teenage girl, practically flooding with estrogen and hopes too high for her own good. I’d always been this way, why had I felt any different-thought-I would feel any different? Those night hours were haunting. Where I sat, by my lonesome, a ghost of nightmares shadowed over me. I shielded my eyes in my palms of my hands. Just then I heard drunken chatter from my right side fading closer. I didn’t care to look up. I didn’t care that Brigitte had a few drinks and was stumbling up the stoop with Mick’s assistance. “Lina! We missed you,” I heard her slur, but no trace of a face was seen. I didn’t dare look up. The front door closed shut. I heard that, too. I removed my hands when Mick joined me on the concrete. I felt the footsteps and the eyes on me.      reminded

“What happened?” Mick asked tone stalled on the now calm night.

I sighed and rested my head on my folded arms. As I looked up at him, his eyes gleamed in the moonlight. I could only imagine the sparkles I would have seen had I been to the past event.

“If there’s anything I did-”

“No, you did nothing wrong, Mick. I just… I don’t know. I wasn’t feeling it tonight.”

“What’s upsetting you then? I know you’ve only you a few days but surely you can tell me a wink of your problems,” his head draped over folded arms, mimicking my pose to face me.

I couldn’t speak.

“...I see. Do you want to go for a walk to clear your mind?”

I nodded.

We stood up and clicked our heels to the right of the street. The moonlight was beautifully sprawled on the stone street. I didn’t know where we were going at first. We walked in unison. Our feet hit the stones in perfect sync and I blushed at the thought of my doing anything as together as this with a handsome boy. My blush did not mask my original annoyance with myself. Inside I felt a variety of colors: blue, red, dirty brown. Mick was probably on the rainbow side of the rainbow. Brigitte was fucked up, even he’d agree, so his time at the party was not entirely spent on my problem. Whatever it may be. This was a first for me. Walking about after midnight, being with a boy on top of that, and being so in love with the willingness of a “stranger”. Mick shouldn’t be a stranger for much longer, though.

We walked over bridges, skipped stones, and watched frogs jump in ponds until he finally found where he wanted to take me. One would think him to be a Casanova because the place was too beautiful. By the water, grassy field, apple trees… The finest jewelry couldn’t have taken my breath as quick. It took very little to impress me, actually, so I appreciated the gesture. I looked back to him next to me. Mick’s face was cursed with grin. As much as I wanted to stay hurt and play victim I had to give him credit.

“Where did you find this place?” I asked. I trotted forward, wanting to drink in the summer night.

¨I always come here. Never had a girl up here. You’re the first,” be kicked dirt into the sweet air.

I took what he said into consideration with the nod of my head. He stepped past me to sit on a textured brown and green log that must have fallen off the thick oak tree it laid dead next to. He looked so beautiful as the wind blew back his fringe. I wanted to find the lie but the night was so sincere. “I don’t believe you,” I told him as I went to sit down next to him.

“I’d only take a girl up here if she was worth my while.”

“So you’ve taken Brigitte up here then?”

“No, she’s different,” he shook his head. “She’s like my sister. I couldn’t be up here with her. You’re different…”

My cheeks grew warm. And although the same breeze that made Mick mesmerizing to look at flew past, it did nothing to calm my growing anxiety, and for once I didn’t mind it. He pulled down the rolled up sleeves of his striped sweater and made eye contact with me. I feared awkwardness so I tried for another meaningless conversation, or what I thought would suffice as ‘meaningless’. “How so?” I smiled modestly.

“Well, um… Sort of…” he looked to his shoes, stuttering a bit. “I don’t even know how it happened, but I’ve sort of fancied you since the sweet shop.”

I didn’t understand the regional slang. “Fancied?” I asked, my voice barely audible.

Mick chuckled, then looked at the moon. “I forgot you’re not from this area for a moment. “Fancy means ‘like’, and that’s been my place with you for the past day.” His eyes fluttered from my own and to the floor, deciding which to focus on.

“Oh,” I nodded, “I get it, yeah.”

“Mhm.”

Was I dreaming? Mr.Confidence was shy! I couldn’t believe that for once an interest of mine was in the same place as I was of him. When Brigitte told me of his fiend for me, I was very hesitant to believe her. Because he was such a doll, I was sure he could get any girl and then toss her when he was through but his regular teenage play with my cousin showed me a side of him more to my liking, rather than what I assumed him to be. One would call this a dream and I would agree. Right there, with the night just right and nature around us, it was too good to be true. Already I could see our children playing in the lush yard of our Manhattan mansion near the flowers of blue and magenta. Our wedding venue would be lovely: a private affair atop a deserted hill. My eyes were glossed over with a hope of a lust I would encounter. I suppose I fancied him, too. Him and most of the habits of his that I’ve encountered over my stay so far. The butterflies transformed to wasps and the familiar tingle returned from the day I first saw him bother the owner of the sweet shop. The night hours weren’t as bad. However much I “fancied” Mick, I couldn’t slide past our familiarity with each other. As familiar as I was with my joy, it was the opposite with him although it felt like much longer than a few days. I felt goosebumps prickle up the exposed skin on my arms.

“I think I could say the say the same,” my mouth twisted, “but it’s crazy how we’ve known each other for a couple of days, right? To me, it feels much longer.”

Mick looked up to me, relieved almost. I must have reacted cooler than he had in mind. “Yeah, I normally don’t act so fast… But you’re different,” he said once again. “And you’ve hardly spoken three words to me it's been driving me crazy,” he half smiled.

I giggled, tucking a stray strand of golden brown behind my ear. “How am I different?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged as he stood up, using his knees as leverage before walking around the grassy plain. “It’s, like, when I saw you, you stood out to me. You looked so pretty and shy. I kept talking to Brigitte about you.”

“She told me about that earlier-or, yesterday, I suppose.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” I nodded, “got real excited about it too. Told me ‘bout your band…”

Mick’s face drew a smug grin. Must be proud of it. “She tends to brag whenever I tell her such things that could impress. I dunno… There are many girls my age around who act so rebellious and misleading like they only want to piss off their parents. That’s nice and all but those girls aren’t the type you’d put effort into, much.”

My face turned a shade of red. “What are they like, then?” I asked, genuinely curious. Because you never know, girls in the UK could be different from the ones back home.

“You know…” he walked further away from me and towards another towering tree, “the girls who get bad reports in secondary school and talk don’t clean their rooms and become a nuisance after some time-”

“So unhygienic?”

“Not as much ‘unhygienic’, more so ‘unmannered’. The girls have no idea who they are themselves, yet, they want to change a boy ‘for the better’,” he leaned against the tree as he picked the silk petals from another rose picked fresh from the earth. The clover was tucked behind his ear safe and sound. “I didn’t want to make too many assumptions about you but by the looks of it, you don’t seem very much like that at all. I mean, you could barely hurt a fly, could you?” Unintentionally, my eyes were innocently looking at him in place of my verbal response, still answered the question sufficiently. I was as green as the grass below me. I was so underexposed to the mature things in nature that supposedly come naturally for those of my demographic. The girls of Mick’s description were similar to the mean girls who attend my school. Those girls talk back to the teachers, get no consequences, but do receive anything they want from their parents from dresses to makeup to the latest fashion magazine. I was proud to have his assumptions be true because I didn’t favor the girls too much and wasn’t similar to them. Personality wise, I was much too forgiving and empathetic to be accepted into their social groups. Mick obviously dealt with those time wasting girls in the past. I could tell from the virtue in his tone as he spilled his guts to me. He didn’t deserve that treatment and wasn’t a skirt chaser from what I saw in his efforts. He wouldn’t have that with me, certainly.

The silence gave my mind enough time to scurry. Of the possibilities of things to go wrong, my parents were the forefront of all worst things. The little things that could slip through the cracks like receiving a surprise call and I’m not around to answer because in a grove with my new boyfriend or my parents, for some reason, flying up to Dartford to see how I’m doing away from home. Mother and I never had the conversation about the birds and the bees. She only told me that if it were to happen without her consent, she never had a daughter in the first place. Just thinking about it made me uneasy. But I also knew how my mind worked at this point; i’ll think of a ludicrous situation-purely fictional at that, and scare myself straight into doing anything put stepping out more than a few times a month. For me to have a first here, I would have to listen to what I wanted rather than what I was tricked into thinking I needed.

He turned in a circle while still glaring at the floor. He hadn’t made eye contact with me for a while.  Finally, he picked a four leaf clover from the abundant grass. What luck, I thought to myself. Out of desperation, he came to me. I could thank him at least for taking the initiative to talk to me after I bailed on the bonfire. Rather selfish on my part, but at that point, I could do nothing about it.

“Do you like compliments?” We made eye contact. For once it wasn’t awkward, rather, it was surprising. I wasn’t mad at it.

“Not particularly, no,” I tucked another loose strand behind my ear. Part of my humble character was to discourage any confidence boosting calls. I never did like compliments. Probably because whenever I felt beautiful or even remotely, I’d see another youthful, slimmer, prettier girl than myself. He’d probably seen prettier than me, too.

“Well, I’m going to give you one.”

“Um, okay,” I giggled, embarrassed. How could I decline now?

Mick laid his hands out in front of me, to which I carefully took hold before he pulled me to my feet. I stood a few inches away from him. There I was able to see the smooth surface of his skin, a better version of his baby blues, the light brown of his hair under the moonlight, and each and every wrinkle of his kisses. I drew my lips between my teeth as I waited for his words. I paled, I was so nervous.

“You have the most beautiful hair I’ve seen in some time, Lina,” told Mick with a boyish, yet, determined tone. “ And I want you to be with me-at least for the time you’re here. I don’t want to see you and let you past. There’s something here worth my while and I want you to see the same in me.” Mick kneaded my hands between his fingers. I wanted to kiss his hands all over. My eyes met his and I noticed the involuntary pout of his lips. After his hands, I wanted to kiss his lips all over, make it another first. Still, through the goodness, the bad elements still stood tall.

“I don’t know,” I simply said, looking away from each little pore and wrinkle.

He came closer. “What can I do to make you stay?”

“I don’t know,” I said, knowing nothing else to say to him. I honestly knew nothing of how to maintain a healthy relationship as this would be my first. I was growing tired but didn’t want to move a muscle without him being with me. The wasps calmed down to dainty butterflies and I wanted nothing more than to be held by Mick Jagger. I came closer to him and hugged him at the nape of his neck. He held me at my waist, locking his hands in place at my lower back. I rested my head on his shoulder and together swayed to the baseless tune of the wind and chirping magpies. I inhaled the scent of his musk and he did the same with my lotion and perfume.

“Will you me my girlfriend?” Mick asked, voice hardly above a whisper.