#musings of the daughter of class and sass

[duchessxstarbuck]

Gahhh!! Finally x-x sooo I had an issue with the e-mail this account is attached to and couldn't access it. So those who were in threads with me are you still wanting me to reply? If you're still around that is.

[harpershigh]

Headcanon: Rion is Jaheira's only biological child

Thanks @spiderwarden for being the devil on my shoulder for this one.

Jaheira was married to Khalid for nearly 20 years, but they never had children. You might say it was due to their life as Harpers, always on the move with no time — or perhaps no desire — to raise a family. As a druid, Jaheira would likely have known many natural methods to prevent unwanted or risky pregnancies, which could explain the absence of children.

Alternatively, they could have been unable to conceive, which is where this headcanon begins. In this version, Jaheira was initially infertile, and Rion became her miracle baby. Rion’s father is Abdel Adrian. By the time Baldur’s Gate 3 takes place, at least 10 years have passed since Abdel Adrian's death. It makes sense that Jaheira wouldn’t want to raise her children among the city’s nobility. She knows the kind of life they’d be subjected to if she did, and she wouldn’t want to put them at risk — especially Rion, for being the daughter of a bhaalspawn (a secret she kept very well hidden even from Rion herself). Plus, she has a strong disdain for most of the city's noble class, which would only add to her decision to keep her family away from that world.

If you met them in the game, it's undeniable that Jaheira and Rion share a lot of things; both have that commanding presence that draws attention, a bossy aura and sass personality. They even look phisically alike, if you take a look at Jaheira's Magic: The Gathering card.

Personality-wise, Rion is just like her mother. She is bold, confident, speaks her mind, and has that impatient edge that says she’s all about action over words. Where Jaheira was known for being both nurturing and fierce, Rion has those same dual sides — fearless protector and ready to throw hands at any given time, even though her young age makes her far less of a strategist. Their shared stubbornness and quick tempers lead to clashes, but it only highlights how deeply they’re committed to the ones they care about. Even when they joke around, you can catch Jaheira’s wry smirk reflected on Rion’s lips, like the world’s a battlefield and every conversation is a duel they’re ready to win.

Also, I might add Jaheira's children as secondary muses :D

[moneyque]

— monique mitchell, task OO3: p1.

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 ��: 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙲𝚂

What is your full name?

Monique Ella Mitchell.

Where and when were you born?

May 23rd, 2000 in Canarsie, Brooklyn.

Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.)

Michael Mitchell is an infamous drug distributor who owns several clubs throughout New York City. He can be described as stoic, over-protective, and intimidating. Monica Mitchell was a registered nurse before she passed away but was described as nurturing, loyal, and had a lot of sass & cheek.

Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like?

Monique is an only child.

Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people.

Monique lives in her penthouse condo in Los Angeles, California by herself.

What is your occupation?

Monique is currently a socialite, influencer and a model.

Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks.

Standing at 5’4 and a half, Monique has dark brown eyes as well as dark brown hair that runs past her shoulders. She identifies as black, race-wise, and weighs around 145 lbs. She has numerous tattoos scattered around her upper body— a symbol on the back of her neck, ‘MUSE’ underneath her collarbone, her ex-boyfriend’s name tracing her ear, & another small tribute to her former relationship on her hip, ‘get money or get lost’ on her forearm, the outline of a diamond on her finger, and ‘new york’ on her left hand. Her style of dress is definitely trendy/ahead of the trend, fly, anything and everything designer, flashy, revealing, and anything to show off her curvy figure.

To which social class do you belong?

She belongs to the upper class.

Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses?

None.

Are you right- or left-handed?

Monique is right-handed.

What does your voice sound like?

Monique has a distinct New York accent mixed with her somewhat high-pitched tone.

What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently?

‘Stop playing with me.’ ‘Ode.’ ‘Girl.’ ‘Cute.’ ‘Weird.’ ‘Real.’ ‘Likeee.’

What do you have in your pockets?

Dior Addict Lip Maximizer in the color ‘Holographic Pink’ with a matching compact mirror to go with it.

Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics?

Monique has a habit of flipping her hair or touching it. She also rolls her eyes constantly throughout a conversation and is overall very expressive with her facial features to a fault. Monique is very vain, so any time she gets a chance to look at herself or admire herself, she takes it. Monique makes it a point not to wear the same purse/handbag two days in a row. Another defining characteristic about her would be the color pink being incorporated into every single aspect of her life in almost a childish manner.

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝟸: 𝙶𝚁𝙾𝚆𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚄𝙿

How would you describe your childhood in general?

Monique’s early childhood was a rough start for her. At the time, her father was still dealing with the loss of his wife/her mother as well as being a dope boy on the corner trying to bring in a steady income for his new born daughter. Initially, they struggled, living in the projects, surviving off of food stamps and a necessity-only lifestyle. Despite that, Michael always made sure Monique never wanted for anything. So, the transition from the projects to their penthouse in Brooklyn in her late adolescent years was somewhat smooth for her.

What is your earliest memory?

Monique’s earliest memory would be opening presents on Christmas at Sakari’s house, where she celebrated with both Sakari and Josiah’s family. Her father had just gifted her a Barbie DreamHouse, which sparked up her love for the doll/franchise.

How much schooling have you had?

Monique has been in school her entire life up until now, the highest point she reached being her B.S in Business and B.A Communication.

Did you enjoy school?

The only aspect Monique enjoyed about school was meeting up with her friends, or hanging out with them afterwards. She viewed school as mandatory and experienced a lot of pressure from her father to be a straight A/B+ student throughout her years in school.

Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities?

Monique learned a lot from her best friend Josiah, as far as street smarts, gang life, and how to make money.

While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them.

Monique’s father was her biggest role model. As well as Josiah. She also considered Barbie a role model to her, in the sense that she was perfect, very feminine, had it all, and could be whatever she wanted.

While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family?

Monique got along with her dad very well, he was one of her best friends up until she reached high school. Which is when she started to take note of how overbearing, overprotective, controlling, and stubborn he was, which ultimately led her down the path of deceit and dishonesty.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

Monique wanted to be rich.

As a child, what were your favorite activities?

As a young girl, Monique loved gymnastics, exploring the city and watching classic movies with her dad.

As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display?

Monique displayed traits of resilience, sass, being outspoken, very saddity, and very adventurous.

As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like?

Monique was popular amongst her peers, throughout her childhood, mainly because she was always in the latest, had the best clothing, and appeared to live a lavish lifestyle. However, she always kept her friend group short. Her main friends were Josiah Reeves and Sakari Vaughn, but they grew to be like family to her. She kept very few close friends in school and mainly hung around the older crowd that she was introduced to.

When and with whom was your first kiss?

Her first kiss was from one of the boys in her neighborhood at the age of six.

Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity?

Monique isn’t a virgin. She lost her virginity to her first boyfriend when she was 15.

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝟹: 𝙿𝙰𝚂𝚃 𝙸𝙽𝙵𝙻𝚄𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴𝚂

What do you consider the most important event of your life so far?

Monique considers moving out of the projects the most important event in her life so far.

Who has had the most influence on you?

Herself.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

Monique considers establishing herself as a brand, a household name and being able to make money off of just being herself one of her greatest achievements.

What is your greatest regret?

Monique has no regrets.

What is the most evil thing you have ever done?

Monique sold her ex-boyfriend’s social security number and pushed a girl down a flight of stairs causing her to sprain her wrist.

Do you have a criminal record of any kind?

Monique has been to jail for stabbing a woman in the arm, but her father got her record expunged.

When was the time you were the most frightened?

Monique was most frightened during her first car accident during a speed race.

What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you?

Her ex boyfriend’s mom walked in on them having sex when she was 16.

If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why?

Monique would change how fast she grew up. Monique feels like she rushed into being a grown up, and faced harsh realities very early on. She feels as though she didn’t get to experience ignorance and innocence for long.

What is your best memory?

When her dad bought her a G Wagon, her first car, when she was seventeen.

What is your worst memory?

Being in school and finding out her best friend had gotten shot, and was in critical condition at the time.

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝟺: 𝙱𝙴𝙻𝙸𝙴𝙵𝚂 & 𝙾𝙿𝙸𝙽𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂

Are you basically optimistic or pessimistic?

Monique tends to lean towards the pessimistic side, even though she’s working on it, she finds it easier to see and expect the worst.

What is your greatest fear?

Monique’s greatest fear is her father passing away and letting her guard down and then being hurt by someone she loves or trusts.

What are your religious views?

Monique isn’t spiritual at all but believes in God.

What are your political views?

Monique shares liberal political views.

What are your views on sex?

Monique sees sex as something somewhat sacred to her but fun. She doesn’t have sex with just anyone, she’s very calculated with whom she shares her body but she’s also accepting of people who think differently when it comes to sex, and sex work in general.

Are you able to kill? Under what circumstances do you find killing to be acceptable or unacceptable?

Monique isn’t a killer but when she’s pushed to the limit, it’s no telling what she’ll do or is capable of doing. Killing is acceptable when it’s to protect one’s self or someone else, and is unacceptable when it’s senseless.

In your opinion, what is the most evil thing any human being could do?

The most evil thing a human being could do is maliciously harm the harmless.

Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love?

Monique does believe in true love and soulmates.

What do you believe makes a successful life?

To Monique, having a successful life is accomplishing what they want/set their mind on and acquiring wealth while doing so.

How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)?

Monique is usually very honest with how she feels or thinks, especially if she feels like she has the right to be or is justified in her thought process. If she has any doubts in her mind, she’ll keep it to herself and deliberate amongst her trusted friends and loved ones before communicating it.

Do you have any biases or prejudices?

Monique is biased & prejudice against men, in general.

Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it?

Monique absolutely refuses to do anything that 100% comprises her self-respect or whatever she considers beneath her. She holds herself to a certain standard and any time that standard or boundary is pushed, she’s quick to attack the situation or retreat.

Who or what, if anything, would you die for (or otherwise go to extremes for)?

Monique would die for her father, only.

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝟻: 𝚁𝙴𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿𝚂 𝚆/ 𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚂

In general, how do you treat others (politely, rudely, by keeping them at a distance, etc.)? Does your treatment of them change depending on how well you know them, and if so, how?

Monique is very standoffish and keeps everyone at a distance but still is polite/kind and considers herself approachable. Her treatment of them changes depending on how she perceives them, if they are friends or closer, or if she wants to get to know them romantically/financially.

Who is the most important person in your life, and why?

The most important person in Monique’s life is her father because time after time again, he’s proven to be the most genuine, solid and stable person in her life.

Who is the person you respect the most, and why?

Monique respects her father the most, because of all the things he has risked and done for her to be where she’s at today. He could’ve just given up after his wife/her mother passed and stayed stagnant, and hindered her, but he’s put everything on the line to make sure she had what she wanted at all times and nothing/no one could supersede that.

Who are your friends? Do you have a best friend? Describe these people.

Monique’s friends are Asiah Porter, Josiah Reeves, and Sakari Vaughn. She views Josiah as her best friend.

Josiah is an older brother figure in Monique’s life, the second man in her life who took care of her, protected her and introduced her to the street life, fast money, and everything she’s known growing up. Monique sees Josiah as selfless, reliable, solid and loyal.

Sakari is the older sister figure in her life who’s always stuck by her side growing up. Sakari and Monique share similar home situations and upbringings which only brought them closer, as well as their fathers being close friends, and former business partners. Monique would describe Sakari as nurturing, soft-spoken, and not quick to express how she really feels.

Asiah Porter is Monique’s former roommate, she met Asiah through Sakari and once Monique moved to L.A., they formed a strong bond. Monique views Asiah as her partner in crime and a listening ear whenever she needs one. To Monique, Asiah is often the voice of reason, has juvenile tendencies, and is very friendly.

Do you have a spouse or significant other? If so, describe this person.

Monique is single.

Have you ever been in love? If so, describe what happened.

Monique has been in love three times. The first time was with her first boyfriend, rapper Artist Dubose, who she dated for five years consecutively and thought she was going to spend her life with but they broke up due to both sides taking things too far and being disrespectful. The second time was with an on and off again situationship that ended up becoming more serious than she had originally intended it to be. She realized she was in love as she broke things off with him, due to internal issues. Lastly, Monique was in love with her ex-boyfriend of nine months, which also started off as harmless but eventually turned into something deeper. However, towards the end of the relationship, fights broke out that revealed issues with their relationship, resulting in her ending things with him.

What do you look for in a potential lover?

Monique looks for a provider, someone who's consistent, with a charming personality. Someone who shares similar traits to her father, someone who will defend her blindly whenever need be, someone who will cherish, reassure her, and exercise patience with her and not give up on her. She also looks to see if they trick.

How close are you to your family?

Monique is extremely close with her father, being that he’s the only family she’s ever really known or had. Monique is familiar with her mother’s side of the family but doesn’t have a close bond with them due to them not being as fond of her father and his occupation.

Have you started your own family? If so, describe them. If not, do you want to? Why or why not?

Monique hasn’t started a family and doesn’t wish to at the moment, simply because she’s currently too selfish to have kids at the moment. Pregnancy scares her.

Who would you turn to if you were in desperate need of help?

Monique would turn to her father or her best friend.

Do you trust anyone to protect you? Who, and why?

Monique trusts her father or Josiah just because they have shown her things in the past that make her feel comfortable with them doing so. Her father’s shielded and protected her, her entire life, treating her as if she was fragile and Josiah has fought for her many times before.

If you died or went missing, who would miss you?

Monique believes the entire world would miss her.

Who is the person you despise the most, and why?

Monique despises her entire block list, and people who don’t like her in general because she feels as though they’ve picked unnecessary problems with her.

Do you tend to argue with people, or avoid conflict?

Monique would 100% argue with someone and by no means avoids conflict.

Do you tend to take on leadership roles in social situations?

Monique leads herself in social situations, she wouldn’t try to control the crowd unless she’s being paid to host. Amongst her ‘peers’, she does her own thing or keeps her distance.

Do you like interacting with large groups of people? Why or why not?

Monique doesn’t mind interacting with large groups of people, she’s used to entertaining a large crowd because of her social position what she does for work, and who she is. She doesn’t necessarily like being around a lot of people, and if she had the choice, she’d stay by herself.

Do you care what others think of you?

Monique cares about how she's perceived, not necessarily about what others think of her. This means she cares about the impression she gives and the vibe she projects, but she doesn't necessarily care about how people personally interpret it.

@la-resources

[tuiccim]

Water and Whiskey

Pairing: Frank Adler x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: After over three year away, you finally return home for the holidays. Could a chance meeting with an old crush spark a new flame?

Features: Fluff, Implied smut TW: Family drama (Reader and family are not on good terms.)

A/N: This is for the Thot Neighborhood's Tis the Season to be Thot-y writing challenge and gift exchange. This story is gifted to the ever lovely, @beach-daydreaming. I hope you enjoy it lovely! This is my first time writing for Frank. Thank you so much to my beta readers, @whisperlullaby and @awesomerextyphoon!

The security guard of the marina looked at your modest car dubiously as you pulled up to the entrance. Flashing your pass and license at him, he waves you through with a shrug. After coming home to Florida for the first time in nearly three and a half years, you had spent an uncomfortable evening with your family. Hoping for the holiday spirit would lighten the mood had proved fruitless. So, after several hours and more pointed conversations than you could stomach, you had no choice but to escape. You head to the one place where you had always found solace growing up, the water. 

As you walked down the dock to your family’s boat slip, you could see there was only one other boat with lights on further down. The clink of tools and softly spoken curses were unmistakable as you carefully boarded your vessel and made your way down below. It was the same as you always remembered and the bottle of much needed whiskey was easily located. A highball glass, a perfectly square chunk of ice, and a stiff pour had you sighing in relief. 

The night had been taxing to say the least. You had returned at the behest of your family to discuss an important matter. You were hopeful this would be a reconciliation of sorts and looked forward to telling them you were being transferred back to the area. The night had begun smoothly enough but as dinner progressed it became increasingly more obvious that the “important matter” was your need to move up in the world or marry well to stop embarrassing them all. You were a stain on the family reputation, the reprobate that chose to follow your heart rather than the family dictates. 

Your musings are interrupted by a voice from above, “Ahoy there!” 

Your eyes widen as you recognize the voice as smooth as the drink in your hand. You down the liquid contents and grab the bottle before taking the stairs up. 

“Ahoy yourself,” you smirk as your eyes light on the handsome face of Frank Adler. 

“Well, if the prodigal daughter hasn’t returned,” Frank smiles as he looks you over. 

“Yup,” you pop the 'p' while pouring yourself another glass of the amber liquid. 

“Shouldn’t you be home having a fancy dinner?”

“Been there, done that, and lost my appetite. Besides whiskey is a perfectly acceptable alternative to turkey,” you sip from your glass while studying him over the rim. Making up your mind, you smile at him, “Care to join me?”

“Permission to come aboard?” Frank raises a playful eyebrow. 

“Granted,” you turn away coyly and return below. As expected, he follows you. “How have you been, my fellow prodigal?”

"Missing you mostly," Frank quips. 

"Awwww, be still my heart," you sass back.

"How about you? Where have you been?" Frank's voice turned more serious as he found a seat on the couch and watched you fix his drink. 

"Got away, finished school, found a job, and lived my life on my own terms. Not anyone else's. It's been great," you hand him the glass and sit next to him.

"What brings you back to town then?" Frank raises an eyebrow. 

"My family asked me to visit. I hoped this would be a reconciliation but not so much," you shrug and then change the subject. "How's Mary?"

Frank gives a genuine smile, "She is a little sasshole."

"Sasshole?" You laugh. "Must take after her uncle."

"Definitely," Frank grins and launches into an explanation of Mary's college classes, girl scout troop, and growth as both a prodigy and a kid. 

"Sounds like she's doing amazing," you study him over the rim of your glass. He looks the same, maybe somehow even more handsome than you remember. You’d always been so attracted to him but you knew his reputation and you were sure you had never been his type.

"Yeah. What about you?"

"I'm, uh, I'm moving back."

"Why? Your parents?" Frank’s brows knit together. 

"No, I got a job offer. It's a dream job and I can't pass up the opportunity. Even if it is here," you explain.

"What happened tonight?" Frank asks the question he's had on the tip of his tongue since he first saw you. He knew you being here alone could only mean one thing. 

"Same thing that always happens, Frank. I'm a stain on the family's pristine reputation. I need to move up or marry up in the world and stop embarrassing them with the demeaning work I do." You shake your head at the absurdity of it all. 

"Your family is a piece of work," he shakes his head and shifts a little closer to you. 

"Tell me about it " you roll your eyes.

"Of course, you know about mine. No room to talk."

You laugh and salute him with your glass, eyeing him as he leans in closer.

"You could always start dating me. That would give them another reason to look down on you," Frank winks. 

"Oh no, they'd love that. Evelyn Adler's son! The brother of the brilliant mathematician that solved Navier-Stokes. What excellent stock to produce grandchildren from," you roll your eyes.

"Are you serious?" Franks asks incredulously.

"I don't know," you shrug.

"Is that why you were never interested in me?"

"What?" Your confused stare makes him chuckle.

"I mean, you always kept me at arms length. We'd always talk but you rarely flirted back whenever I saw you at Ferg's," Frank elbows you playfully.

"Pfft, you never flirted with me. Besides, you were looking for a one-nighter and that's not my style. You knew that," you look down at your glass, a little embarrassed.

"What if I had wanted more than that?" Frank asks.

"Frank, we both know that the only person you could commit to then was Mary. She took up your whole life except for Friday nights. That's all you had to give to anyone."

"Yeah," Frank sips his drink while staring into the distance. "Yeah, that's true. Still true in some ways."

"Just some ways?" You raise your eyebrow and shift a little closer to him.

"Yeah. Mary still takes up most of my time but…" he trails off, looking away. 

"But what?" You prompt, forcing his gaze back to yours.

"But now I'm ready. I want to have the same person on those Friday nights. Eventually, in between Friday nights, too."

"What? Frank Adler is ready to commit!?!" You tease him.

"Yeah, I am," Frank scratches the back of his neck as if a little bit embarrassed. 

"Anyone made the cut?"

"I was dating a teacher, Mary's teacher, for a while but it didn't really pan out."

"Sounds complicated," your lips twist.

"It was,” Frank chuckles.

"What about now?"

"Hadn't really been anyone who caught my attention until recently," Frank’s gaze makes your stomach drop. 

"Do tell. Who's caught your eye recently?" You ask.

"Old acquaintance. Showed up out of nowhere. I hear she might even be moving back to town soon."

"Frank," you roll your eyes at his insinuation, trying to hide how you really feel.

"You really never realized I was flirting with you?"

"You never flirted with me!" Your mouth gapes in disbelief. 

"Only every single time I saw you," Frank looks at you with raised eyebrows.

"No, you… We were just friends. You never-" cutting yourself off, you look back on the times over the years you ran into Frank. He was always sweet, solicitous but not flirtatious. He always complimented you but it was just him being nice. He- shit, you realize what an idiot you are. Frank seems to see the realization on your face and smirks. 

"It's not Friday. Where is Mary?" You ask suddenly.

Frank seems caught off guard by the question,"Uh, Roberta has her for the night so I could work late. I needed to have that boat repair done by the morning. Why?"

Draining your glass and setting it on the table, you lean into Frank. His arms immediately go around you. Putting your lips close to his you say quietly, "It's not Friday so I won't be one of your Friday Night girls."

Frank looks at you with a grin, "Shouldn't I take you on a date first? If we're gonna do this right?"

"Frank," you say coyly, "we're the renegades. We do things our own way. Sometimes completely backwards."

"I have some backwards moves I can show you," he teases, nudging your nose with his.

You straighten, smile at him, and begin unbuttoning your shirt, "Then let's get started."

[scary-lasagna]

hi! i absolutely loved the ballgown oneshot with slendermom and slenderman! is it okay if i request a similar one with the same prompt, but with a y/n that’s like a daughter figure to slender? i’d prefer an adult y/n, but you can make y/n younger if it’s easier for you to write! tysm! :))

A Mother’s Ballgown [Sequel to Ballgown]

I made the reader from Ballgown the mother of this reader :]

Ballgown [Prequel]

Prompt

“ “I’m sorry if I'm misunderstanding, you invited me over to play dress up?”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry, do you have other opportunities to dress up like Regency era royalty?” “

_______

Your father has always made time for you to spend time together. Especially on weekends, even though there were times where you stop by to bother him during his office hours. But honestly, he was never bothered by you, you were his child. A being who carried his own blood, how could he be put off by you? He endeared you with all of his cold, black heart.

And you were to attend your first Operator party next Wednesday. How you grew up so fast! It seemed as if just yesterday you were feeding on your mother’s stomach lining. And now you’re already blossoming into the age of majority. 

“So why are we at Grandmama’s?”

A familiar and thin hand was placed between your shoulder blades as he ushered you towards the marble staircase. “We’re going to find you a dress for the party next week.”

“Does Grandmama know we’re here?”

“No, and don’t tell her I let you try on clothes without her or I’ll never hear the end of it.” You couldn’t help but giggle at that as your father failed to hide a sly smirk.

“I told you I had a dress, Jane gave it to me and it fits perfectly fine.” It was perfectly fine! It matched the shitty conservative dress code while having the just-right amount of class. 

“The dress is too short; and ugly for that matter.” The tall man ignored the protest of your sucking teeth and lead you into one of the many walk-in closets. “They wouldn’t even let you in with that length and sheer of cloth.” 

“None of Grandmama’s clothes would be able to fit me, I’m sure.” You said a little stubbornly. Your father only huffed and pressed a button similar looking to a doorbell, causing all of the doors in the walk-in to slide open and expose their beauty. All of them were breathtaking! You never knew black could look so pretty other than the night sky. You peeked past his shoulder and scanned the elegant hanging dresses. 

“Perhaps not, but a few of your mother’s dresses are here as well.” He mumbled, taking the hem of the skirt in one of his tendrils and examining the sequins.

Your mother, yes. She had been gone on a business trip for the past four months, and how dearly you missed her presence. It showed in your father as well, as he became more protective and attached to you. She’d be home soon, any day now. And all three of you were hoping she’d be home by the party. She’d love to see you in one of her dresses.

“This one should fit you quite well.” He pulled the gown off the mannequin and held it up to your neck.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“I may not be your beloved fashionable uncle, but I at least know what brings out your inner beauty.”

“Is that why you’ve picked out five other dresses while I was watching you talk?”

The silence was deafening, and it physically hurt not to laugh right in his expressionless face. 

“Just put one on and see how you feel in it.” The other dresses were placed temporarily on a rack as your father started to exit the room. "If you don't like it, there's plenty of others to choose."

“I'm sorry, you invited me over to play dress-up?” The fabric felt heavy in your hand when you examined the layers under it. It looked so heavy, there’s no way you’d be able to walk down the aisle in this, let alone with the addition of heels.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry, do you have other opportunities to dress up like Regency era royalty?” The sass, as usual, was not a surprise. It ran in the family. “I’ll make tea while you get dressed.”

You turned back towards the display, finding a hoop skirt that might fit your needs. “There’s no bloody zipper or anything..” You mumbled, watching as the fabric morphed off of the mannequin. How were you supposed to put it on without a zipper or buttons? Did it just open on its own?

You’d have to find out.

____

None of the dresses fit your taste. Too poofy, too heavy, too much cleavage, not enough neck, the list went on. You sighed in exasperation. There had to be at least one dress in this house that fits you! Maybe another closet would suffice.

Just down the hall, was a walk-in that your Grandmother liked to show you when you were a child. Running your hand over the jewelry gave you a sad, nostalgic feeling. Maybe you were growing up too fast. 

The dress in the main display case was beautiful, it looked heavy with the multiple layers it was sporting, but it was out-ratioed by its astounding glimmer. You had to try it on.

Although difficult by yourself, you managed to secure the body of the dress around your hips. It slimmed your waist and filled your hips to perfection. And with surprise after taking your first steps in the gown, it had a high slit that your leg peeked through teasingly. 

You really liked it.

The clinking of the teacups against the platter alerted you before your father even entered the room. 

“You look just like your mother did when she tried on that dress.” His tall figure stood behind you, flipping up the lace collar around your slender neck. A ribbon pressed to the back of your neck as he sidestepped to tie it in front in a small bow.

"This was hers?"

"And your Grandmothers. She had to find a dress for her wedding, and as you can tell your Grandmother is full to the brim with expensive ballgowns." He was straightening the skirt now to compliment the train.

"YOU'RE TRYING ON CLOTHES WITHOUT ME?"

Both of you physically jumped at the yelling, and there stood your Grandmama. With a knight's sword.

"Grandmama! Why do you have a sword?!" 

"It's an accessory." She teased, pacing over to you. She was still wearing her business suit from work. "No, I thought someone found a way of breaking in." Your grandmother dismissed, setting the blade by one of the dressers. 

"You could've asked who it was."

"Yes, because if it had been a thief, I'm sure they would have answered me." She said sarcastically over the sound of clinking jewelry. You glanced at your father with a shared look, trying not to chuckle.  "Here! I found it." 

The clicking of her heels paced over towards you, and the cool metal of the necklace bit your skin. "This is the exact outfit your mother wore." She whispered, combing her clawed fingers through your hair to fluff it up.

"Including the lack of shoes." You hid your toes under the hem after your father mused, joining your grandmother to admire his daughter in the mirror. You smiled, feeling a rush of glow and proudness as he placed a hand on your shoulder. "You look divine, Mäuschen*. Your mother will without a doubt be overjoyed that you stole her wedding gown."

You giggled, "I'll just tell her you let me do it.

“Of course,  verwöhntes kind**.“

*  Mäuschen = Small mouse, cute.

**  verwöhntes kind = Spoiled child.  

[cinna-wanroll]

*Is not writing the Obitine novel since apparently Disney cant fit it into their schedule*

That was a lie, in case you hadn’t already guessed lol. Anywho, here’s an excerpt from the first chapter since I’ve been a bit slow on uploading any original content. Keep in mind that this is a first draft, so I’ll probably end up editing it later

“Hey, buddy,” Vos clapped him on the shoulder enthusiastically. 

“Hello, Quin,” Obi-Wan offered the Kiffar a good-natured smile and continued his walk. 

“Off to the races again already, I hear,” Quinlan continued, following his friend. 

Obi-Wan cocked a suspicious brow, “Yes,” he kept his tone mild, almost adding ‘unfortunately’ to the end of his sentence, “who told you?”

Quin shrugged and turned, beginning to walk backwards casually, “Oh, you know, my usual informants. Word travels fast around these parts, especially if you’ve got connections.”

Obi-Wan grinned disbelievingly, “Mm.”

“So,” his friend gave him a little nudge as he pivoted back around, “who’s this lady you’re off to rescue, hmm?” He waggled his eyebrows.

Obi-Wan hated to admit it,, but Quinlan was actually quite charming, so he let the insinuation slide. 

“The duchess of Mandalore.”

Vos’ eyebrows shot up in disbelief, “The duchess?” Quin repeated in shock, “Damn, Obi-Wan. Aren’t people like her, like, hardcore Jedi haters or somethin’?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, “Not anymore, since the treaty of Kal’desh almost 82 years ago,” he cast a pointed gaze at the Kiffar who he’d obviously lost at the word ‘treaty’, “You’d know this if you’d paid any attention in Galactic History. 

Quinlan grinned, “Hey, I passed that class.”

“Only because you bribed Bant with Gumbah pudding for a month and a half.”

“Whatever, man.”

Obi-Wan smiled adding, “Not to mention, she’s supposedly the leader of some pacifist group there. The New Mandalorians.”

Quinlan wrinkled his nose, “Sounds like a bunch of nonsense to me. Nothing ever got done by pacifist legions in the past- at least not anything that lasted longer than a couple of years. This galaxy needs structure, not some peaceful delusionists. Besides, how peaceful can a Mandalorian organization be?”

Obi-Wan pursed his lips and looked down, forced to admit he’d thought the same things. How peaceful was a group that’d managed to stay alive among even the harshest of cultural climates? Obi-Wan was guessing not very peaceful at all. 

“I’m not sure, but Master Windu said that this mission is of utmost importance.”

Quinlan sniffed, “Yeah, to his paycheck, probably.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, “Quinlan, you know Jedi don’t get paid.”

“Most Jedi. I’m just saying, those council members always seem to be a little concerned with issues outside the Republic, than with issues at home.”

Obi-Wan grimaced- he and Vos had never agreed on that particular subject, “We are defenders of the galaxy, Quin.”

His friend shrugged again, changing his tone immediately and smiling, “Yeah, well, just don’t fall too in love with her, mmkay? She might chop that pretty little head of yours off for peace”

“Isn’t that technically what we do sometimes?” Obi-Wan made a pained expression, despite the fact that he was willing to admit it. There was just something about it that made him feel guilty. 

“Yeah, but at least we’re upfront about it.”

“And who’s to say they’re not?”

“Fair enough.”

They walked in companionable silence for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts.

Although unlikely friends at first glance, Obi-Wan and Quinlan actually got along quite well. They were both calculated, witty, mischievous, and sarcastic fighters with a knack for getting themselves in trouble. 

 Except while Quinlan owned up to causing his antics, Obi-Wan was always the unfortunate person who could be convinced to join in for a cause when things were already taking a turn for the worst. 

They stepped up to the entrance of the mess hall, which was bustling with masters and padawans alike cramming generous heapfuls of muja muffins and mist-pudding onto their trays. 

“Mm-mm,” Quin rubbed his hands together, “I am starving!”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but nod eagerly in agreement, eyeing the tantalizing food as a group of creche students passed them. 

He wasn’t surprised to spot Qui-Gon at the very front of the extensive line, on time for the food, of course. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.

“Good morning, boys.”

Obi-Wan turned around towards the direction of the voice, lighting up.

A familiar emerald face greeted him, serene and kind. 

Quin turned his head to her as well, “Mornin’ Luminara.”

Obi-Wan bowed and nodded towards the food line. 

“Can you believe this?”

Luminara smiled faintly and sniffed, peering in, “On buffet day? Certainly.”

“Aka the only day they serve real food in this Force-forsaken place,” Vos chimed in.

Obi-Wan and Luminara shared a look, but inside Obi-Wan couldn’t help but agree.

The Temple was many things, but it definitely wasn’t a diner. 

“What do you think our chances are of paying off some people at the front for their spots?” The Kiffar queried, gazing back at Obi-Wan and Luminara for suggestions. 

“Oh?” Obi-Wan couldn’t help the sarcasm that snuck into his tone, “and with what credits do you intend to do that?” 

“Dunno. I was thinking more… services,” Quin countered.

 Just as Obi-Wan was about to ask what services Vos was implying, Luminara interjected, “At this point, I doubt we’d even get close enough to the masters at the front of the line without being taken away.” 

Obi-Wan nodded as he followed her gaze to where a group of large, burly-looking masters stood glaring at the passerby. It looked like they hadn’t gotten their caff yet that morning. He gulped.

“Luminara’s right, Quin, we should forget it and wait until the line dies down.”

His friend glanced over at him, “Don’t you have to leave by then?”

Obi-Wan drew in a sharp breath as Luminara frowned.

“What? You’re leaving again?”

He nodded, glaring daggers at Vos and refsing to look at Luminara. 

“Yes, I was just notified about it this morning. Had I known sooner, I would’ve told you.”

“And yet Quin knows,” she quipped, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms indignantly.

“I’m tellin’ you people, I’ve got connections,” Vos emphasized, leaning against the entrance wall. 

Ignoring the Kiffar, Luminara began, “They’re over-working you again.”

Obi-Wan threw Quinlan an accusatory look that was responded to with a simple ‘here we go again’ eyeroll.

“It’s not fair to you, or to the other padawans who want mission opportunities. They want and deserve experience too! I cannot understand why the council is doing this. My suggestion would be-” she was cut off by an approaching figure, which turned out to be her master. 

Obi-Wan winced.

“Padawan Unduli, do you really think your time is best spent here, dawdling with these hooligans?”

Obi-Wan disregarded the snide comment, instead trying to throw an apologetic gaze at his friend. Although out of the corner of his eye he saw Quinlan bristle at the remark.

Luminara bowed and lowered her head, “No, master.”

“Then come along, it’s no wonder you’re always hungry.”

She followed obediently, but not before shooting Obi-Wan and Quinlan a sad, apologetic gaze as she left.

Quin snarled when they were out of earshot, “Now there’s someone I’d like to pay off. With a good kick in the-”

“Vos,” Obi-Wan chided sternly. 

His friend huffed and glowered, “What?”

“Don’t be crass. At least, not this early in the morning.”

 Quin shrugged and rolled his eyes, finally stepping away to look for an open table. 

“Besides,” Obi-Wan added while following, “I’m pretty sure you’’l have plenty of chances to do that when I’m gone, and am unable to provide you with proper impulse control.”

Quin laughed.

“Nah, it’s not as much fun without someone there sassing me.”

He returned his friend's cheerful look, “That’s a fair point.”

Luckily for the pair, Obi-Wan spotted a good amount of free space beside Qui-Gon, mostly because his master had a reputation of being a messy eater- not to mention, he had taken two trays. 

“Bingo,” Obi-Wan grinned at Vos.

The two padawans approached Jinn and sat beside him, Obi-Wan respectfully nodding while Quinlan eyed the food on the second tray. 

“Hello, master,” Obi-Wan greeted. 

“Hello, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon replied after swallowing a mouthful of food. He took a swig of blue milk and then turned to acknowledge Quin, “Padawan Vos.”

The Kiffar snapped his gaze away from the food, nodding quickly.

“So,” Obi-Wan began, “are there any other details I should be aware of during this mission?” 

Jinn turned his full attention on Obi-Wan, “The duchess is young- about your age, I believe. She’s said to be stubborn but kind, with a deep passion for all living things… much like someone else I know.” A playful spark lit up Qui-Gon’s eyes, something about them very knowing. 

Obi-Wan did his best to concentrate on what his master was saying instead of Vos’ waggling eyebrows and his hand, which swiped a biscuit from Qui-Gon’s tray. He nodded, encouraging his master to continue.

“She’s also just returned home from a political academy located here. But most importantly, she probably won’t take kindly to our help. This mission was administered by her advisor, not her. And, despite the current peace, I’m sure she hasn’t been brought up in an environment that is… encouraging of the Jedi.”

Point two, Quinlan grinned like a fool as he stole a piece of meat of Jinn’s tray. 

“Not to mention,” Qui-Gon continued, oblivious, “her father was a warlord.” 

Oh, Force. Suddenly, Obi-Wan was a whole lot less enthusiastic about this whole thing, and that wasn’t saying much considering his attitude towards it was already pretty negative. 

He had to protect a war-monger’s daughter? Perfect.

“Wow,” Vos mused, “talk about impressing the father in-law,” he chuckled as Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan turned to glare at him, “she better be really worth it Obi-Wan. Is she at least ho-”

He was interrupted by Qui-Gon’s harsh tone, “her father is dead, padawan Vos.”

“Oh,” Quinlan replied faintly, looking down, “my condolences.”

Qui-Gon shook his head and turned back to Obi-Wan, “All in all, our goal is to be an unseen protection service. After all, we don’t want her getting into more trouble just because we put her off.”

“Why is it that we don’t want her getting into any more trouble, master?” Obi-Wan asked, frowning slightly.

Qui-Gon mirrored his expression, “Because, padawan, she requested our help.”

“I thought her advisor was the one who requested our help,” Obi-Wan retorted under his breath, although he knew he shouldn't've. Although he was surprised to admit to himself that he didn’t quite care- after all, the burly masters in line weren’t the only ones who hadn’t had their caff yet.

 Qui-Gon’s frown deepened, “She is her people’s last hope for peace and civility, Obi-Wan. And you will do best not to question her, our assignment, or the council again.”

Obi-Wan looked away dejectedly, “Yes, master.”

He left out any remarks he could’ve made about Qui-Gon doing both of the aforementioned things constantly. 

“Now, just let me finish my-,” Qui-Gon turned to his practically empty tray, where Vos had mysteriously disappeared, and sighed.

Obi-Wan stifled a chuckle, leaving behind only a mischievous sparkle  in his grey-blue eyes. 

“Master?” He asked, encouraging Qui-Gon to wrap up his thought. 

“Let’s just be on our way then, Obi-Wan.”

They rose and exited the mess hall, out into the long corridors and what would be a much more eventful trip than what young Obi-Wan was expecting. 

╭━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━╮

The temple docking bay was huge, containing as large as a republic freighter to as small as a landspeeder. 

 Droids whizzed about everywhere, attending to some business or another. A few officials or Jedi stood out against the field of endless gleaming metal, but besides that there was nothing else living operating within the place. 

Enormous ceilings towered over Obi-Wan’s head as his master led him through the maze of docking bays and landing platforms, until they finally reached a small doorway towards the back. 

A droid met them there to provide them with a datapad of information on the ship; mostly a run-down of the controls and its condition. 

Qui-Gon nodded in satisfaction, “Everything seems to be in order here.” He handed it back to the droid, who whisked it away immediately.

“How long will our journey be, master?” Obi-Wan inquired, hoping he didn’t sound whiny. 

“Not very long. About six standard hours, providing there aren't any hyperspace issues.”

Obi-Wan nodded, stepping out of the doorway and into the bright light of Coruscant. 

The ship was a pretty good size; a standard model with red stripes running along its sides. 

The Trial, curious. Obi-Wan didn’t pay ship names much mind, but that was just rather odd. 

Qui-Gon went to go check with the official while Obi-Wan spotted Quinlan leaning against a couple of crates near the door. 

“Vos? How did you know this is where I’d be?”

“Relax man, I just came to say goodbye before you left to go out and find your true love or whatever.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Vos grinned and pulled him into a tight hug, Obi-Wan squirming beneath him.

“Stop that,” he said, finally managing to push his friend back.

“Was Qui-Gon pissed about his food?” Quin asked, gazing hopefully to where Obi-Wan’s master and the other man were still conversing.

“Probably, although not any more than me- I still haven’t had any food yet.” His stomach growled, as if to prove a point.

“Eh, you snooze you lose.”

Obi-Wan grimaced as Vos began to saunter away, his finally parting words being, “Later, buddy! Don’t, like, become a father or anything while you’re gone- I’d hate to miss that.”

Eyeroll. “Goodbye, Vos!”

He shook his head at the sound of his friend’s distant laughter, pacing over to Qui-Gon without so much as a glance backwards. 

“Is everything alright, master?”

“Yes, just making conversation while you and Quinlan said your goodbyes.”

So he did know. Well, that showed Obi-Wan not to underestimate his master. 

“Then lets away.”

Obi-Wan nodded to the man and walked up the ramp into the ship, glancing back at the gleaming building one last time before he took a seat in the cockpit, not even bothering to explore the rest of the ship. He already knew what this model’s interior looked like, and wanted to get this assignment over with as quickly as possible.

Later, Obi-Wan found irony in that wish as he sat in the exact same seat upon the departure of his mission, where the room and his heart had seemed a lot more empty. 

Qui-Gon sat beside him, taking control and handing Obi-Wan the mission log from earlier. 

“What am I to do with this?” He asked, frowning at the tablet-like device. 

“Make notes of the journey,” Qui-Gon replied, “the council emphasized everything is to be included, and since I can’t ever seem to write it the way they want, I thought I’d have you do it.”

“But-”

“Do you have something more productive you could be doing, padawan?”

He shook his head and took the log obligingly without further complaint. It was light in his hands, and he placed it in his lap as he strapped himself in. 

“Our belongings have already been loaded on, everything is in order,” Qui-Gon said, still fiddling with the ship’s settings. 

“Do we have any food?” Obi-Wan asked hopefully. 

Qui-Gon nodded, “It’s back in the kitchen area. Why didn’t you eat earlier?”

Obi-Wan scoffed, “You saw the line, right?”

“You snooze, you lose.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “How about caff?”

Qui-Gon shook his head no, and Obi-Wan deflated. 

“Something tells me that despite my hopes, this is going to be a very long couple of months,” Obi-Wan pouted, leaning his head back against the seat. 

Qui-Gon smiled, “You’re such a pessimist, Obi-Wan. Ready?”

Obi-Wan nodded, “I suppose.”

“Good. Then let’s get this show on the road.”

The ship lifted off, soared out of the atmosphere and into space, and Obi-Wan made sure to note in his report that Qui-Gon forgot which lever to guide forward for hyperspace. When he did find it, darkness and impossibly bright specks of light blended together, and they rocketed forwards before coasting through space, towards destiny. 

[taiblogcomics]

A Schemer With Streamers

Hey there, fields of scarlet rot. Got one more issue of this MLP cross-generational comic for you. Shame that there's two issues after this! Gonna have to leave you on a cliffhanger and review some other stuff before we finish this story! So sorry, but I only have what issues I have. I hope this one will tide you over for the time being~

Here's the cover:

Violet Shiver's cool, right? She's probably the best of the S'monies, mostly because she's actually purple like G1 Smooze. It strengthens the identity of her origins, you see. Plus Pinkie's also on the cover! That's always a bonus in my book. Notably, the skies are also red, presumably a DC crisis event is about to begin. That would be suitable for a crossover of this magnitude, at least. Anyway, Violet's beset by some Venom ropes or something, I dunno. Let's read this issue and find out.

So, last time, Grackle and Dyre, daughters of the G1 witches, sent their Smooze-created evil ponies to sow some discord among the School of Friendship, installing them as teachers. Despite being kind of obviously villainous, the S'monies are accepted by the cast, even after their lessons are also obviously evil. And then they start to spread their chaos into the larger population of Ponyville...

We open with one of Fluttershy's classes at school. She's lecturing on the traits of a creature called a Shriek-Yowl, which is basically the traits of a cat and an owl wrapped around a mandrake. Silverstream and Ocellus are being very rude and talking through the lesson. When Fluttershy asks them if they'd like to share, they sass her something fierce, upsetting the shriek-yowls. And by "upsetting", I mean they projectile-vomit (offscreen, fortunately, but it's implied through text). The teachers later meet to discuss the problem that seems to be plaguing their school.

Starlight Glimmer decides to call in a specialist to help them work through the problem: Mayor Mare. Honestly, wasn't expecting that. You'd think it'd be her best friend and school guidance councellor, Trixie. Her conspicuous absence is greatly and powerfully felt through this whole miniseries. Anyways, Mayor Mare is keenly aware of the problems also going on outside the school, and this much harm at once has put everypony on guard, and they begin musing which villains might be behind it. That's when Pinkie steps in as the voice of reason.

Pinkie Pie points out that they're jumping to the villain conclusion awfully fast. Sometimes ponies have disagreements and fight, it doesn't mean mischief is afoot. Now, we know this is dramatic irony because it totally is the work of villains, but Starlight thanks Pinkie for her uncharacteristic level-headedness. So obviously Pinkie's solution to the disharmony festering under the surface is to throw a big party and cheer everypony up. Because it's always parties with her. At least that much is characteristic for her~

When Trench reports this to the witches, they scoff at the idea of a mere party being a solution, but resolve to inform their minions anyway. The S'monies volunteer Violet Shiver for the decorating committee, just to keep an eye on things. And here's our chance to look in on Violet in a solo setting. Pinkie sets her up on streamer duty so they can hang out, and Violet now has to convincingly pass as a normal pony. This is actually strangely adorable, as she has basically the same results at trying to adhere to an aesthetic as Jack Skellington.

Meanwhile, Twilight has dropped by (or maybe she's still here from her brief cameo in issue 1) to check on Starlight's mental health. She puts the stressed headmaster to bed, then drops in on the party progress. Twilight notices some of the magic Violet is using to make her crafts look normal seems suspicious (like, shadowy snakes flowing from her horn to reshape the streamers type suspicious), but neither Violet notices Twilight noticing nor does Pinkie notice Violet's magic. While Pinkie lectures Twilight to not be so judgemental, Twilight borrows one of the streamers for analysis.

Twilight and Pinkie meet with Zecora to discuss the issue, since Zecora can analyse magic from a different perspective than Twilight's unicorn-focused expertise. With some testing, they determine that the magic comes from another dimension, and that the animosity they were feeling comes from actual contact with the magically-infused streamers. In fact, prolonged contact actually causes Twilight to briefly become possessed by it, until Zecora manages to knock her out of it by hurling her into the nearby river, severing the connection.

With these findings, however, they're able to determine that it's a kind of Smooze, very different than the one Discord knows. They're also able to determine its dimension of origin, so with the help of a book, they can set up a portal to visit said dimension and elicit some help. All of the Mane Six and Starlight turn up to help out with this one. And the seven of them prepare to step into another dimension, with beings very similar and yet very different to them. As they do, the issue ends with another group of G1 ponies landing before them...~

This issue’s interesting. A big switch from the previous one, since that one was pretty much entirely focused on the villains. This one has only a single scene with the witches, and barely a page for Shadow Storm and Black Belle. Violet gets the brunt of the focus here, and it’s actually quite enjoyable. Gives her a little more depth, as you can see her first struggle and then take pride in making her crafts for the decorations. Otherwise, though the villains are lightly depicted, their effects are very much the issue’s focus. So much so, that we’re actually going to get the crossover part of this crossover miniseries underway at last~

Alas, we won’t get to that next week. Like I said, I don’t have the relevant fourth or fifth issue yet. Only got the first three in my shipment! So next week... Back to the New 52 well, I guess. It’s been a nice break, at least~

[heroicintention-a]

ALL THE QUESTIONS! (For Mary)

💓 When did they have their first crush?

Mary’s first crush was in sixth grade. Being the little rebel she was, she set her sights on an eighth grader. She never spoke to him, still being shy in sixth grade. Middle school made her a loudmouth, taught her how to tell people off and how to sass everyone within a ten foot radius– much to her parents’ irritation. In her freshman year, she saw that first crush again and wasted no time making sure he noticed her. Of course, she didn’t ask Joseph out and she definitely played hard to get. (Also I adore the idea of Joe and Mary being high school sweethearts??? Please??)

❤ Have they ever been in love?

Yes. Mary was madly in love with Joseph when they got married and she’s still very much in love with him. 

💕 How easily do they fall in love?

It has only happened once (or so Mary will claim and she will deny otherwise), but she falls pretty easily. With Joseph, it was incredibly quick but this may also be because her home life wasn’t great. He was like a lifeline and a constant as she watched her parents going through a particularly nasty divorce.

💖 How do they say ‘I love you’ without really saying it?

It depends. Mary has a lot of little ways she will say I love you without words. Sometimes it’s walking up and embracing for a long moment, arms around her husbands neck and head placed just right so she can hear his heart beat, fingers tapping it out rhythmically. Or it’s cooking large meals– she did this a lot when she had just dropped out of college and was living with Joseph for the first time, she joked about culinary school but never went– with everything made from scratch. It’s talking about Margaritaville. It’s setting up Margaritaville for when her husband gets home…. lately it’s coming home drunk and instead of shouting, curling up close to Joseph’s side or in his lap or whispering that she wants to dance to ‘that stupid Jimmy Buffett shit.’

😕 Have they ever said ‘I love you’ without meaning it?

Yes. This is one of those times she’ll never admit to and honestly, she doesn’t remember it. It was when she and Robert were out barhopping one night, one of the evenings after Joseph was gone for a full night. She got drunk. Usually Mary can function, she keeps herself to a certain number of drinks, tipsy is usually a better word for her. Or buzzed. But she was drunk, much worse than Robert (thank God he was in somewhat sound mind). The two of them were stumbling walking home. She was humming Hey Good Lookin’ and then he started singing it, and she looked at him and just said it. And then started sobbing… and saying a lot of things. Things she wouldn’t say without drinking. Joseph was awake when Robert got Mary home. Mary collapsed into him. She was asleep before he got her to bed. 

👀 Would they ever enter/have they ever entered into a friends with benefits relationship?

There have been several times such a dynamic has crossed her mind. If she wasn’t with Joseph, she probably would. As it is, she is a faithful wife and plans to remain that way.

💋 How old were they when they had their first kiss?

She was thirteen. It wasn’t with Joseph but with one of her friends at a sleepover during a game of truth or dare. 

🚗 When did they go on their first date?

Define date. The first time she went out with Joseph, she snuck out the window to go to a party and may have gotten a little tipsy off of wine coolers. And may have thrown up in the host’s pool (Joseph held her hair and after that made sure she ate and drank water if she had any drinks). 

Their first legitimate date wasn’t until a year into their relationship because her father didn’t like her dating an older boy… but her mom didn’t care. Being old enough at the time of divorce to decide where she stayed most of the time, Mary would go to her mom’s when Joe asked her out so there wouldn’t be a fuss. Her mom loved Joseph, but mainly she liked that her daughter had a boyfriend. 

🌹 What is their idea of a perfect date?

A night out, no kids, a good wine and dine. Or staying in, still no kids, and a home cooked meal, sharing a bath, flower petals on the bed… Just something romantic, damn it. 

🔑 At what point would they move in with a partner?

With Mary? Probably quickly. She has a good sense of people, and it doesn’t take long for her to know if they’ll get along. In the case of Joseph, she didn’t move in right away. She tried college and moved into a dorm, but she found the entire place depressing. Classes were boring, her professors weren’t motivating… When one of them offered her a raised grade in exchange for a private meeting, she decided she had enough and dropped out. 

She bounced from her mother’s to her father’s, having gotten used to at least a little independence. In the end, she moved in with Joseph and got a job at a run down superstore. Which was also bleak, but she was happy coming home.

💟 What is their stance on PDA?

When she was younger, Mary was a big fan of it. Partially because in high school, it was ‘no PDA’ and she liked being a bit of a troublemaker. And after that? Why the hell should she care? If she wanted to kiss her boyfriend, she would do it. And God the look she got from his mom when they kissed was hilarious.

Now, Mary wouldn’t know how to react to PDA.. But it would probably be somewhat the same.

🍵 Do they prefer to ask out a partner or be asked?

She wants to be asked out. In a way, it’s a self assurance that people want her. 

👥 What is my muse’s sexual & romantic orientation?

Mary would consider herself somewhat flexible, but mainly she is attracted to people with more masculine qualities (for example, she wouldn’t date someone with breasts). More than likely, she would still flirt if she found someone interesting enough, and she wouldn’t mind kissing a woman, but that would be as far as it went.  

💦 When did they lose their virginity?

Prom night, her’s not Joseph’s because she wanted to be eighteen before being involved sexually (or, rather, before having sex). It was more her idea than Joseph’s and for a hot minute, she thought he was going to tell her no after she went to fucking Victoria’s Secret to pick something out. 

⁉ Have they ever questioned their sexuality?

The entirety of middle school after that first kiss. 

💡 What made them realize their sexuality?

She had a bit of a…. interaction freshman year with one of the girls on the cheer squad, before she was with Joseph (but while she was trying to get his attention). It just didn’t feel right to her. She wasn’t into the girl, she didn’t like how she felt… It just didn’t click and she realized that. 

💌 When was their first serious relationship?

High school. Starting in Freshman year. 

💘 What was their most serious relationship?

Same guy as in high school– Joseph.

💝 What was their most recent serious relationship?

She has literally only been seriously romantically involved with one person, and that is her husband Joseph. Even if things aren’t great right now.

💗 What advice would they give a potential partner about making their relationship last if they could with no judgment?

Don’t. Fucking. Cheat. 

💫 Have they ever been hit/struck by a partner?

No. Physical violence would be something that Mary wouldn’t stand– or else would retaliate against. But she has never been afraid of Joseph hitting her, and she would never hit him, though while drunk she has shoved him after finding out about an affair. This would probs be different in cult ending ngl.

❌ What is the biggest mistake they make in their relationships?

Having children. Having a miscarriage. Not leaving after the first time. Probably self medicating with alcohol after her miscarriage, and not accepting the mental health that the hospital offered because of the stigma her mother had always put on the subject of psychologists being ‘for crazy people.’

💥 What was their worst relationship?

I mean, she’s miserable and her husband has cheated on her more than once so…

😓 Have they ever cheated on a partner?

Mary has flirted with men, usually when she’s a little drunk and usually to get more drinks or because she sees the men messing with some girl because she loves making shit heads uncomfortable. However, she has never gone farther than that, and after a man buys her a drink (or refuses to) the flirting stops. Usually she also distances herself.

�� Have they ever been cheated on by a partner?

Yes. Her husband on multiple occasions. 

💞 Would they ever enter/have they ever entered into a polyamorous relationship?

Mary probably still would enter into a polyamorous relationship so long as she felt secure that she would not be left behind in it. She would definitely have guidelines, but it could work. 

😭 When was their first breakup?

She and Joseph broke up for a couple months or so after he graduated. But obviously, it didn’t last. It was mainly because Joseph was supposed to be going far away for college… but things worked out differently, and with a very large bouquet, Joseph asked for Mary to take him back.

💔 What was their worst breakup?

Joseph. Mary was heartbroken. She wouldn’t do much that wasn’t required from her for the first couple of weeks, but she slowly got back to normal. Her father hoped she would meet someone else and she did, but that fell out of the picture when Joseph came back.

👍 What was their most amicable breakup?

Also Joseph (for the few months it lasted). It was a breakup on mutual terms, even though it was upsetting. 

🌙 Have they ever had a one night stand?

Nope.

🍷 How far would they go on a first date?

She doesn’t kiss on the first date.

💍 Would they ever get married?

She is married. And if she and Joseph divorced, she would be open to remarrying. 

💎 Would they rather propose or be proposed to?

Proposed to. Again, it has to do with her sense of self esteem/self worth.

💒 What kind of wedding would they want to have?

Originally, she envisioned something very traditional… Church wedding, bouquet of roses, marble cake… But she and Joseph eloped (which, with their families, was a much better idea), and she decided it was a lot less stress.

👶 Do they want children?

*half laughing, half sobbing*

🍼 Could a partner ever change their mind on children?

Mary did want children, so originally no– her mind wouldn’t be changed. But if it was a ‘if you knew then what you do now,’ she would have stopped after Chris. She wouldn’t risk going through what she did again, the physical and mental pain of it, the slow ruin of her relationship… She’d never admit that though. 

this took over a fucking hour omfg XD

[rauliskafan]

A Hard Lesson in Vanity: Chapter 7

Authors’ Note: Happy Thursday, lovely readers!!! Now that the verdict is in, what exactly is Eve Selby’s next move? And will Rafael get caught in the crossfire? Read on to find out!!! @vintagemichelle91 and I hope that you enjoy!!!

          “Hermosa? Are you sure you don’t mind?”

           Ducking into a corner of Forlini’s with his phone pressed to his cheek and a finger in his free ear, Rafael waited for Natalia’s answer, his heart sliding some when his wife released a heavy sigh.

           “I can come right home if you want,” he continued.

           “No; it’s fine. It’s not as if you have a curfew when I chain you to the bed.” He heard a new sigh slip into the smallest of chuckles, and Rafael relaxed against the wall, his lips curling into a smirk.

           “Could be fun to give that a try,” he teasingly suggested. “I sort of love the idea of submitting to you.”

           “Do you now?” she queried.

           Suddenly the celebration seemed a moot point, and he was ready to catch the first cab en route to Natalia’s embrace.

           “Is everyone there?” his wife asked. “Or… or is it just you and Ms. Selby?”

           He thought he heard her voice hitch in her throat and shook his head while speaking fast.

           “No,” he said. “Mike. Fin. Liv and Carisi. Even Rollins… the gang’s all here.”

           “Must feel like old times,” Natalia mused. “Have a few drinks. Enjoy yourself. My mother and Trevor might take the girls, and I could do with some down time.”

           “How are our bellezas tonight?” he asked.

           “Violetta tried her trick on Trevor,” Natalia started.

           “Had to help him out when he couldn’t tell the difference?”

           “But she swapped the ribbons,” Natalia answered. “My father is still apologizing to Holly for calling her the wrong name. He’s even offered to pay for all the therapy he’s sure she’s going to need.”

           “He does realize that she’s only five months old, right?” Rafael asked.

           “It’s sweet, Atticus,” Natalia hummed. “Besides, he doesn’t know much about babies.”

           In that instant, he could have made a snide comment about his father-in-law’s globe-trotting adventures while he abandoned two daughters of his own stateside, but Rafael let the matter drop and met Natalia sigh for sigh.

           “It does sound sweet,” he concurred. “You know what, I’ll just call it a night.”

           “No,” Natalia said. “You’ve earned the victory lap. Give… everyone my love.”

           “All of this is thanks to you, hermosa,” he stressed. “Because you made me play nice.”

           His wife paused again, and he started to speak when his soul was relieved by the sound of her light laugh.

           “Will you be the nicest when you finally make your way home to me?” she inquired.

           “Without question, hermosa,” he insisted. “And if you want to try something with one of my ties, then I’m all---”

           “Just get home safe so I can kiss you closer.”

           Natalia punctuated the sentence with the sound of her lips pursed together and smacking through the phone.

           “Te amo,” he said. “I’ll see you soon.”

           “I’ll leave a light on in the window.”

           The call ended. Rafael smiled and returned the phone to his breast pocket. He felt a small grin forming on his face when Carisi rehashed Eve’s prowess in court, and he had to applaud when the detective reached the end of the story.

           “Well told,” Rafael said.

           “And the next round is on me,” Carisi replied.

           Waving towards the bartender, he finished his shot and made sure that Eve had a fresh drink before anyone else. Of that Rafael took note. The other ADA and the detective clinked glasses, and Rafael heard Liv’s voice not too far off until she joined them at the bar.

           “Not bad at all, Ms. Selby,” Liv said. “Nice to see Buchanan backed into a corner.”

           “A tight fit,” Eve joked. “But I got the job done.”

           “That you did,” Liv agreed, and Rafael held his tongue as they toasted, a small part of him feeling as if he was on the outside looking in, recalling memories from school. The short kid only picked for stick ball on Eddie’s say so. Or even at Harvard, something of a token in the scheme of the debate club or mock court. The feeling hardly sat easily in his heart, but this was Eve’s moment and---

           “You were just lucky that Barba came back to play on your team.”

           Fin stuck close to Rollins as she headed towards them with an empty glass in hand.

           “I think you’ve had enough for tonight, Amanda,” he said.

           “I say no, Fin,” Rollins said, helping herself to part of Carisi’s recently purchased round. She drank fast and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

           “Wonderful job, Eve,” Rollins continued. “We love one in the win column. Don’t you?”

           For a second, the detective’s eyes shifted towards Carisi. He blushed and pulled on his drink, but Rollins grabbed his hand and gritted her teeth.

           “Is it a win for you too, Sonny?” she asked.

           “Amanda, don’t do this,” he implored.

           “You like her so much?” Rollins challenged. “Make her dinner. See how far that gets you.”

           “Stop,” Carisi warned, and Rafael thought to take her out for some air. But Rollins would not move.

           “Why should I?” she asked. “What the hell am I being punished for? Because Declan came back and wanted to spend some time with Jesse?”

           “So you keep telling me,” Carisi said, standing fast, his stool falling out from under him. “And what was I meant to be to her? Or you?”

           Rollins lip quivered for a second, but just as quickly she bit back her tears.

           “You were meant to be my friend,” Rollins said. “But I’m not so sure about that now.”

           Stumbling backwards, she said it was time to leave as Fin caught her.

           “Think you better come with me,” he said.

           “Want to be alone,” Rollins replied, brushing him off and barreling towards the door. The party sat in silence until Carisi was the first to blink.

           “I better go after her.” A part of Rafael knew that Natalia would be glad to hear that he was following fast, but then the detective turned back to Eve.

           And he took hold of her hand.

           “Sorry,” he started. “Rain check?”

           “Text me later,” Eve said. “So I know you got home safe.”

           With that he was gone, and the others stayed silent until Liv looked to her phone.

           “I need to get back to Noah,” she said, patting Rafael’s arm and then Fin’s before staring down Dodds.

           “What?” the sergeant asked.

           “If you talk to your father, tell him that Noah and I await his swift return.”

           “You know how these conferences are,” Dodds said.

           “Yeah I do.”

           “Hold up, Liv,” Fin said. “I’ll come with. Getting too old for these all-nighters.”

           They waved goodbye, and Dodds glanced at the clock of the wall.

           “I’m out, too,” he said. “Gotta meet Maggie after her dance class. We’re picking out wallpaper for the bedroom tonight.”

           “We?” Rafael queried.

          “What? How fast you forget the nursery.”

          “Not at all,” Rafael said. “But let’s be real; Maggie’s picking out wallpaper. You, my friend, are nodding and smiling.

          “Touché,” Dodds said. “Want to split a cab with me?”

          “I---”

           “No! Have another drink with me!”

           Eve tilted her head to the side and flipped a few locks of her hair over her shoulder.

           “I…” Rafael said. For the smallest of seconds, his eyes drifted down the length of her long legs crossed at the knee. No question about it… she was lovely. In another time… possibly…

           “I have to get home,” Rafael said. “My girls.”

           “I insist on one more,” Eve said. “I need to run something by you real quick.”

           Her flirty demeanor evaporated, and she signaled for two fresh shots before standing tall, her face hardening, and suddenly she was all business again.

           “Guess I have to listen to the boss,” Rafael said. “Go on without me, Mike.”

           “Are you sure?” he asked. “I mean cause… because I can hang here if you need me---”

           “And keep Maggie waiting?” Rafael shot back with a smile. “She’d be mad at me for months. Go. Give her my regards.”

           He tottered slightly as he started to step towards Eve and the table she had snagged in the back as Dodds peered into his eyes.

           “Rafael? Don’t have more than one,” Dodds warned. “Just hear her out and head home to Natalia.”

           “Will do, sergeant,” he said, waving, watching Dodds reluctant to depart. Once he was gone, he returned to Eve and slipped into the booth.

           “Here’s mud in your eye,” Eve said, and they clinked glasses.

           “Salud,” Rafael echoed. “So what’s the topic of conversation?”

           “Topic?” Eve echoed.

           “I’m guessing our next case. Let’s do this.” Maybe it was the liquor or the triumphant high, but he was ready to work with her again. If he had to. After all, she was gifted.

           And he told her as much.

           “Do you really think so?” Eve asked. “Coming from you that means… so much.”

           “As if I’m so---”

           “No, no. Don’t tell yourself short. Everyone’s heard about you sassing a jury. Giving the defense hell. The way… the way you can be so tender and so… so gentle when it comes to your witnesses.”

            After a sip, Eve lowered her glass to the tabletop and stretched her arms across the surface. The tips of her nails just grazed the edges of his, and her hand closed for an instant before Rafael fled from her touch and returned to his drink.

           “Sorry,” Eve said, “Did I embarrass you?”

           “No,” Rafael said, lied, sipping what little that remained at the bottom of his glass and tensing against the leather-backed bench. He expected her to shift back, to laugh it all off as too much alcohol on everyone’s part and turn the conversation back to something like Rollins’ impromptu exit. But again Eve’s hand drifted, her fingers starting to curl around his.

           “I had a tall bill to fill stepping into your shoes,” she said. “Daunting at first. But then…”

           He froze as her nail found his palm, her touch tracing the lines of his hand.

           “But then you handled it with aplomb,” he said.

           “Is that your verdict?” she asked.

           “I’ll defer to the jury,” he quickly said. “They gave you the verdict you wanted most.”

           “For that I’m glad,” Eve said.  A small puff of air left her lips, hitting the hem of his sleeve and just creeping up his arm. 

           “It truly has been something to follow your career,” she went on. “To step into your shoes. Such large shoes to fill.”

           “What of it?” he asked, uncomfortable as he caught her meaning.

           “Add to it these hands! What else is properly proportioned?”

            “Stop,” he said. “We’re not doing this.”

            “What?” she innocently asked. 

          “You know. Look I’ll work with you for as long as I have to. But as for the rest of it I---”

           “Fine,” Eve said, signaling for another round of drinks, and Rafael was parched enough to accept the bitter, icy taste before sliding deeper into the booth…

            … and seeing nothing but her face.

           “Looks like I have a captive audience,” Eve quipped. “And I didn’t even have to tie you up.”

           One of her hands moved tightened around his wrist. She hadn’t tied him down; only Natalia had the charms and the means to do that. He had to get home to her…

           “Maybe I should see if Mike is still waiting for his---”

           “Hold up, Rafael.”

           Eve’s hold turned surprisingly strong, and he found himself fixed to his seat and trapped in the path of her eyes.

           “Eve… do you want to discuss the next case or what?” he weakly asked.

           “Or what?” she echoed. “We’re all good in the courtroom. I knew you’d come back… at the end of your suspension… I’ve wondered how it would play out.”

           Now it wasn’t just her hands; her foot slid up his leg, and Rafael’s vision blurred. In what felt like a second and an hour all at once, Eve was sitting at his side, one of her hands at the small of his back.

           “What… what about Carisi?” Rafael asked.

           “What about him?” Eve challenged.

           “You… I mean you brought him to the dinner party,” he said. “Made Rollins upset.”

           “She shouldn’t be,” Eve chuckled. “Sonny is sweet. But I was just---”

           “Stringing... him... along?” Rafael asked, struggling to speak. “How could you? You know he... he could sit second chair ? And he… he’s my friend. My wife’s friend…”

           “They cook together,” Eve said. “Would you like us to put our own spin on that?”

           Eve winked, and Rafael wished that he had taken Dodds up on his offer. Scrambling from his seat, he tripped over his own feet, having no choice but to fall into Eve’s waiting arms as she kept him from the floor and sighed into his ear.

           “Easy, Rafael,” she purred. “Don’t you trust me?”

           “I… I don’t...  want to call...”

           “Natalia?” Eve asked.

           “Always,” he said, finding her eyes as he nodded his head. “She’s waiting for me.”

           “She’s sort of sweet,” Eve said. “I bet she’ll wait a little longer. And if you’d like someone a little more... sophisticated...”

           The drinks were taking over, his legs like jelly as he scanned her frame, and when his stare settled on her face, he had next to no words.

           “I can help you with that,” Eve promised.

            "No,” he muttered as her lips fell toward his. “Can’t... don’t want to.”

           “Which is it?” Eve asked as she guided him into the night, Rafael’s head growing fuzzier with each step until she patted his cheek.

           “It’s alright, Rafael,” Eve whispered. “I’ll figure out what’s best for both of us.”

[duchessxstarbuck]

I am back home! And will be making posts and replies. I am so sorry for being away but a lot happened while I was on vacation. I suffered withdrawal from a medication I was on, and the biggest thing. I got engaged!

[spellsandpixiedust]

11 Mun Questions

tagged by: @gentlegiantingvar

tagging: no one...? because almost everyone’s been tagged already and I guess we’d just be tagging each other back and forth with new questions so I’m gonna be that arse who breaks the chain at this point - sorry

1. What drew you to Tumblr Roleplaying?

A few years ago, when roleplaying on tumblr was still possible without using xkit, I was posting a lot of gifs on my personal blog and this one beautiful rp blog reblogged absolutely everything I did with this one particular actor since he was their muse’s fc). I got curious, checked them out and fell in love with the gorgeous and twisted and gorgeously twisted writing. We talked. We plotted. That’s how it all started on tumblr. Thank you, Luna! You know I love you!

2. Did you RP somewhere else prior to Tumblr? Where else?

Of course. I’ve been roleplaying for sixteen years now. All started out with regular pen and scraps of paper during classes, then we swapped loose paper for small notebooks. It was all just dialogue we noted down (and crudely announcing action by letting the character comment said action - “I leave now” - horrible) and every character had their own colour. (Sharpies are your friends, you know that?) Apart from the only thing that kept me sane during my school career, I have rp-ed on designated roleplay pages, on ICQ (wow, I am THAT old), deviantART and Skype.

3. What is your favorite part of RPing?

That moment you read a reply for the very first time and it’s all like a new episode of your favourite show. All new and exciting and you just absorb every word hungry for more. This and plotting. Fuck, I love plotting and I indulge in some serious character development.

4. What is your least favorite part of RPing?

The fact that I have rarely time for it. Also OOC bitching. No one is better or worse because they write or don’t write a certain way, a specific style, a particular genre or what not. Please respect everyone if you want to be respected. Thank you.

5. Any former muses you miss writing?

Occasionally, yeah. I do miss writing the Master in the Doctor Who verse. Very rarely I miss Zagreus and Rassilon, too. But more like I miss certain interactions, certain relationships they had with others, not so much the muse per se. Rassilon and his daughter(s) was a wonderful angst-fest. Zagreus with most people was a wonderful psychotic, violent sass-fest. Oh, did I mention I’ve been writing villains non-stop for over ten years? Yep. That is exactly why I don’t crave playing my old muses much. I need some fresh air; hence the repenting dark magician.

6. What’s your favorite thing about your muse?

That he can create conflict in ANY situation. And without conflict, sorry, unpopular opinion, a roleplay is bound to whither and die. So if I think things need some spicing up, he’ll see to it. Perfectly in character, of course. 

7. Do you think that if you and your muse were to meet, you would get along?

Yeah, definitely. We’d talk music over a cup of coffee and have a way good time. Only main-muse I ever wrote that would probably not kill me. So... yay?

8. Is there any genre or setting of Roleplay that you cannot stand?

Slice of life? Yeah, that never seemed very captivating. Not for me anyway. Torture porn is also a no go. I mean, I can stomach a lot. Gore, violence - no problem. But people getting off to having their muse mutilated... eh... well, I’d rather not participate in that, thanks.

9. Do you ever reread threads? Which ones?

Of course. I reread threads regularly. Mostly the plot heavy ones with character development and an overarching story line. And smut threads. Because I’m an adult and I can appreciate the poetry of porn. Yes, those threads tend to be the most poetic and beautifully written threads for some reason. This is not a joke.

10. Is there any particular plot or dynamic which you haven’t yet had the chance to RP that you want to? What is it?

I’d love to have Liam interact with someone in his main verse whom he knows from his teenage years or preferably from when he was a petty criminal roaming the country. An ex-boyfriend, a copper, a bully, anyone that would give off real bad vibes upon a reunion (and Liam can hold a grudge forever). Maybe Liam is asked for help and he has to bring himself to cooperate. Or an old enemy challenges him once again? And definitely more young!Liam vs. authority threads. More young!Liam threads in general, really. Less cynical, but definitely not less trouble.

11. What are your favorite books?

Douglas Adams is my favourite author. Yep. This is going to be one of those underwhelming short answers: The entire Hitchhiker series by Douglas Adams. And the Dirk Gently novels, too. 

[gratitudejoyandsorrow]

Wanderlust

Prompt: “She was a nomad at heart. Unlike him, she didn’t need to have a place to call home.” Told in Lin’s POV.

Pairing: Lin x reader

A/N: I’m glad I got this out in time for V-day! Though I’m not as satisfied as I should be, I decided to share it with you guys. Hope you guys enjoy it!

 Lin was going to do it tonight.

 He had the support from his family, friends, and even some random old lady on the subway he told last week.

 He was partnered up with Y/N in an acting class during his Sophomore year of college. The second her eyes landed on him and she gave him her million-dollar smile, he should have known he was doomed.

 He and Y/N became fast friends and spent every single waking moment together. They would text each other at night, have breakfast and coffee in the morning, head to class, and then do whatever the hell they pleased until it was time to go home.

 Junior year they met each other’s parents. Y/N had her mother’s looks, but everything else about her was her father. Her personality, the way she carried herself, her love for travel and adventure… it all came from him. And of course, his parents loved her. They called her their daughter and fed her bottomless stomach with food whenever they would visit.

 Senior year, even though they were both stressed and drowning in exams and projects, they managed to find time for each other. It helped that she was practically living with him. She cleared space in his tiny closet for her clothes, left her toiletries in his bathroom, and slept in his bed. Somehow, she managed to book small affordable getaways, either in nearby states where she would drag him around and explore the city or a “staycation” in New York where she would show him things even he, a native, haven’t even heard of before.

 It was during a random night in the middle of the semester, where she was cramming for an exam that was in the morning, that he realized how much he really loved her. He sat in the kitchen across from her, papers sprawled on the table and his laptop in front of him, watching as she began to doze off. The pencil in her hand fell to the table with a thump and he chuckled when her head began to bob, drifting further into the calls of sleep.

 “Time for bed,” Lin whispers, getting up and going over to her side.

 As he pulled her up from her seat by her hand, she began to protest. “No,” she yawns, rubbing her eyes.

 “You need sleep,” Lin urged, pulling her towards his bedroom.

 “But I need to study,” she whined, but let him lead her to bed.

 “I’ll wake you up early in the morning so you can study,” Lin smiles, opening up the duvet and helping her inside.

 Just as he was about to turn and leave, she stops him by grabbing the sleeve of his hoodie.

 “Stay with me, please?”

 Her question tugged at his heartstrings.

 She scooted over to make room for him and kept the duvet open to let him in. Lin’s smile gets bigger, and with a defeated sigh, slips in beside her. She immediately attaches to him, tucking herself under his chin and swung her leg over him. She was asleep within seconds.

 Lin stared at the ceiling, heart hammering against his chest.

 He wanted this every day for the rest of his life.

 He wanted to come home to her, sleep next to her, be with her...

 Lin wanted it all and more.

 And today, after months and months of suppressing it, he was going to tell Y/N. Even if she didn’t feel the same, he had to do it. So what if the little hope he’s built after overanalyzing every conversation, every single touch, every unspoken word he’s had with her is crushed?

 At least he gave it a shot.

 “Lin! I have exciting news!” Y/N came rushing in the bar full of graduates, graduation cap still pinned to her head and heels clicking with every step.

 Lin spreads his arms open and she runs forward, squeezing him tightly.

 She draws back, eyes gleaming with excitement, and grabs his hands. She jumps up and down, not able to contain her excitement.

 “I got the job!” she squeals.

 Lin’s heart drops.

 “The job?” he echoes.

 “The job for The National Geographic, silly! How could you forget?”

 He didn’t forget.

 It was the freelance journalism job with The National Geographic.

 She was going to be whisked away from New York, away from her home, her family, him…

 “Oh my god, Lin! They left a voicemail earlier today and they said they want to fly me out to Australia tomorrow. Can you believe it? Australia!”

 “Australia…” Lin whispers, throat feeling tight.

 He felt as if the floor was going to slip from under him. She was finally going to travel the world and experience all the things she’s dreamed of, but he felt so devastated.

 She lunges forward, hugging him again.

 “I’m so happy!”

 Lin lifted his trembling hands to embrace her.

 “Me too.”

 The rest of the night passed by in a haze.

 It didn’t go away even after he said goodbye to her at the airport the next day.

  For the last five years, the only way he kept in touch with Y/N were through emails. She had a horrible habit of losing her cell phone and it was almost impossible to find signal in the middle of nowhere.

 She’s been to every single continent, every nook and cranny of the world. From the Great Pyramid of Giza to Seychelles, she was there, her smile brighter and bigger than he’s ever seen it.

 She was a nomad at heart. Unlike him, she didn’t need to have a place to call home. The whole world was her home. She didn’t want stability, she wanted excitement. She didn’t fear the unknown, she thrived in it and faced it head-on.

 She was the polar opposite who he was, but damn, every time he would scroll through her pictures, he felt a deep sorrow in his gut of what could have been.

 He knew that they would have been amazing together.

 He could just picture it... Y/N, in the front row of the Richard Rogers Theater on the opening night of In The Heights and then Hamilton, screaming her head off in some gaudy dress. Her getting annoyed with Karen and her sass, adoring Chris and his big-brother tendencies, and silently rooting for Jasmine and Anthony…

 But she wouldn’t have been truly happy.

 She would’ve felt trapped and miserable if she stayed in New York. That’s why he let her go, why he chose to smile and ignore every cell in his body that begged to speak up the day she left. It would have been unfair and selfish of him to say anything to her. He didn’t want to hold her back from experiencing the world.

 So instead, Lin sent her scanned Broadway pamphlets and newspaper clippings his mother saved, cast recordings of the musical, and pictures of people she would never meet.

 They emailed each other every day and he hung on to each and every word she sent. From three sentences to a full page of words, he saved it. It was pathetic that even after all these years, Y/N was all he could think about. Every girl he’s dated was nothing compared to her.

 Maybe it was time to stop pining for a girl that was always seemed to be out of his grasp.

 “Lin, are you ready?”

 His father’s voice pulled him out of his musings. He glanced around his surroundings, remembering that he was supposed to do a press conference for the record-breaking Tony nominations Hamilton set.  He cleared his throat and nodded, leaving the dressing room and heading towards the stage.

 After he was announced, he walked onstage, the bright lights of the cameras blinding him. One by one he was asked routine questions from reporters: his inspirations for the play, his reaction to the sudden popularity of the show, and how he felt about the nominees of each category.

 The final question came from the back and Lin squinted his eyes, barely making out a form of a man.

 “Andy from the New York Times,” he said, “back in your college years, I heard that you got banned from the girl’s dorms after being caught in bed with one of the students multiple times. Would you like to comment on that?”

 Lin reared his head back and laughed when the crowd let out a murmur. “You must have done a lot of digging to find that story,” he hums, tucking his hair behind his ear, “but, you’re correct.”

 There was another buzz from the crowd, but this time, it was accompanied with flashes from the cameras.

 “But, it’s not as wicked as you think it is,” Lin continued, smirking, “I spent a lot of time with a very dear friend in her dorm, studying. We had a lot of classes together and it was easier to stay at her place than to go back to my own dorm. The RA just happened to catch me sneaking into her dorm at night and assumed the worst.”

 The crowd seemed unconvinced, but Lin didn’t have a chance to elaborate because time was up. He was escorted off to the side to take pictures and he posed as best as he could as he walked through the row photographers.

 “Lin!”

 The familiar voice caught his attention, and with a grin, Lin walked towards Andy. “That was a tough question,” Lin says, shaking his outstretched hand, “I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned that story during any of my interviews.”

 Andy returns the grin and winks. “I have a great source.”

 “Oh? I’d like to meet them,” Lin responds, genuinely intrigued.

 Andy laughs. “You’ll have to wait for it.”

 Lin was left to ponder his cryptic answer as he was ushered to the fans that awaited him.

 Lin didn’t know why there were so many parties he had to attend.

 He was currently getting ready for a banquet to celebrate the Tony nominees. In all honesty, the question from Andy completely threw him off-guard and caused him to feel a mix of emotions, longing the being the strongest. He wanted to stay home and reminisce the precious memories he had with Y/N, but it would have caused him to spiral into the depression he fought so hard to climb out of.

 His phone buzzed, indicating that the escort was in front of his apartment, waiting. With a sigh, he pocketed his phone and wallet, mentally preparing himself for the event.

 He swung his door open, stunned to see a woman whose hand was poised to knock on his door. A woman who strangely looked like…

 “Y/N.” he whispers, eyes wide.

 She drops her arms, letting them fall limply against her side.

 “Hi,” she breathed, a sheepish smile on her face, “I… I got your address from your Father. He told me about your event tonight, but I couldn’t wait. I needed to see you.”

 Lin felt his eyes water and his heart felt like it was going to burst. His eyes took in Y/N, her skin tan from all the days she spent out in the sun, baby-face long gone, and body slimmer from all her travels.

 She’s still as beautiful as ever.

 “You’re here.” Lin couldn’t recognize his voice.

 “I’m here,” she repeats, “for good.”

 Lin couldn’t comprehend what Y/N was saying. “For good?”

 She swallows thickly, and wet her lips before she speaks. “My contract with National Geographic is over and I didn’t want to renew it. I’m done, Lin,” her voice wavers, “I got a job with New York Times a couple weeks ago –”

 Lin lets out a sharp laugh. “You’re Andy’s source.”

 She pauses. “Yes.”

 Lin runs a hand down his face, trying to make sense of the situation. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner that you were back, Y/N?”

 She frowns, her eyes searching his face as she explains herself. “I was scared, okay? It’s been five long years... Things change, Lin! Would we really be able to pick up where we left off? I’ve missed so many important events in your life. I should’ve been there,” she stops, voice quivering.

 Lin smiles sadly. “I wanted you to be there too.”

 “But I’m here now, and if I have to, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

 Lin stares at Y/N, her declaration causing the tears in his eyes to spill. His heart felt full and wordlessly, he opens up his arms for her.

 She runs into his embrace and it felt like he was young again.

 The nomad finally decided to stop wandering.

 “I’m home,” she whispers.

 “Welcome home.”

[lilyvandersteen]

Mine

by lilyvandersteen

This is a Klaine ficlet for @notthetoothfairy and @skivvysupreme because it’s their birthday. Enjoy, ladies!

As the football team filed back into the locker room, Sheldon Beiste gave Kurt an encouraging shoulder clap. “You did well, pumpkin.”

Kurt grimaced. “That new kid kept challenging me.”

Sheldon grinned. “You dealt with it, didn’t you? After so many squats and sit-ups, his muscles must be screaming. I don’t think he’ll sass you again.”

“Here’s hoping…”

Kurt waited impatiently for the boys to be done showering, so that he could take his turn. They were dawdling, though. He heard them laugh, and throw things at each other, and scuffle, and he gritted his teeth. Were they doing this on purpose? To force him to check in on them and tell them to get a move on?

A loud peal of laughter seemed to confirm that hypothesis, and Kurt saw red and just stormed into the locker room without knocking. “Come on, hurry up! It’s late, and I don’t know about you, but I’m starving, and I’d like to go home and have dinner.”

“Hey, Coach…”

There was that pain-in-the-neck new kid again, grrr!!

“Yes, Anderson?”

“You get the deciding vote,” the kid continued.

“What?”

“We were comparing our dicks, and voting for the best one. Mine and Sam’s got the most votes, but it’s a tie. So tell us which dick you like best.”

Laughter rang through the locker room again, and Kurt felt steam coming out of his ears, but he tried his hardest not to let it show. Of course they’d guessed he was gay. And of course it was funny to them to see how far they could go, baiting him.

Don’t show them they got to you. You’re better than this. Calm down.

So Kurt slapped on his poker face, gave both Evans and Anderson a quick once-over, quirked an eyebrow and announced, “Mine.”

“Uhm, what?”

“My dick is the best.”

More laughter. Lynn shouted, “Good one, Coach!”, and Puck’s half-brother drawled, “All riiiiight, be proud!!” and held his fist up for a fist bump. Kurt hesitated a moment and then bumped it. Puckerman grinned and then turned around to pull his undershirt on.

That seemed to be the end of the prank. Everyone continued washing themselves or getting dressed. They didn’t seem fazed by Kurt’s presence in the least. Not homophobic then, this lot. Well, that was good to know.

Kurt cleared his throat. “You get five more minutes before I throw you all out of the locker room, and I won’t care if you’re dressed or not. Not my fault you’ve wasted your time dicking around.”

A few of the boys snickered at his choice of words, but this time Kurt didn’t let it get to him. He just reminded them “Five minutes! I mean it!” and then left the locker room.

Kurt’s stomach growled, reminding him that he’d forgotten to eat lunch, because he’d had to take a tiny and terrified freshman to the hospital. They’d been rope-climbing in PE, and she’d done a really good job, too, nearly reaching the ceiling, but then she’d made the mistake of looking down, panicking and letting go of the rope.

Kurt, who’d been helping out a classmate of hers who was making no headway whatsoever, had been too late to catch her. She’d landed on her arm, and everyone had heard the crack.

Seeing that it was only five minutes until the lunch bell, Kurt had dismissed everyone and driven the girl to the hospital. She’d kept apologizing all the way there, in the waiting room, in the plaster room, and all the way back. It had taken all Kurt’s patience not to snap at her, and to exude calm and comfort.

His afternoon classes had been pretty tame, but coaching the football team had tested his nerves beyond their endurance, all because of that brat Anderson and his smart mouth. He was a decent player, though, when he wasn’t too busy goading Kurt. Fast, excellent reflexes and a good strong kick.

The newbies worked well as a team, Kurt mused. Only the first week of the school year, and already, they were like a well-oiled machine. They had each other’s backs and they worked towards the same goal. Yep, if they could keep that up, they’d do a lot better than the McKinley Titans did when Kurt was on the team.

Back then, he’d been the only one not involved in the girlfriend-stealing and the fights for dominance and the general self-centered behavior of his teammates. And he’d been such a good kicker that he’d been scouted by the OSU in spite of the McKinley Titans’ meager results.

So now he combined being a kicker on the OSU football team with a teaching degree, which was how he’d ended up back here at McKinley, a college junior doing his teacher training by assisting the PE teacher and the football coach two days a week.

It wasn’t what he would have chosen to do had the circumstances been better, but hey, they weren’t. His dad had had a first heart attack when Kurt was sixteen, a second one just before Kurt’s graduation, and now he was battling cancer.

Kurt needed to be close by, to drive his dad from and to the hospital, to help out at the garage and to monitor what his dad ate. So he’d shelved his dreams of Broadway and fashion design, and he’d set his goals lower. He’d get a degree that wouldn’t cost the earth, that didn’t take him too far and that would guarantee him a job.

Best-case scenario, his dad would get better, and he’d get the chance to pursue another degree after a few years of teaching and staying at home to save up money. Worst case scenario, his dad would die, but at least Kurt would have spent as much time with him as he could.

Kurt shook off these maudlin thoughts and checked his watch. Six minutes had passed, and a steady trickle of freshly scrubbed football players had come out of the locker room. Not Anderson, though.

Kurt’s temper flared up again, and he stalked back into the locker room. Anderson’s bag and clothes were still there, and he could hear a shower running.

Kurt’s eyes flashed, and his chin went up.

Taunting me again, is he? Thinks I won’t dare throw him out of the locker room when he’s naked? Well, I’ll show him!

Kurt strode into the shower area, all ready to grab Anderson by the scruff of his neck and tug him away, when he heard the boy start to sing. His voice wrapped around Kurt like the softest of blankets, and Kurt’s anger slipped away, leaving only wide-eyed and open-mouthed wonder as he listened, spell-bound.

“You made a rebel of a careless man’s careful daughter You are the best thing that’s ever been mine.”

Anderson threw his head back on the “mine” and twirled around, coming to a sudden stop when he saw Kurt standing there.

“I said five minutes, Anderson,” Kurt said, as gruffly as he could manage.

The boy nodded, switched the water off and hurried away, hastily wrapping his towel around him.

“For what it’s worth,” Kurt called after him, “That was beautiful. You’re a great singer.”

Anderson turned his head, looking at Kurt from under his lashes. “Thanks. I was inspired.”

[whatdoyouexpectthistime]

‘Choosing Sides’ Part Six - Class Is In Session

At the residence of the Prime Minister of Japan, Hiraizumi Ryuichiro, the security was as tight as ever. Even Miho, who had been there many times, she was thoroughly searched before she was allowed inside.

“Damn,” Subaru smirked, meeting her in one of the inner corridors and nodding to her security escort. “I missed the pat-down?”

The guard then left Miho in Subaru’s custody.

Miho leaned toward him a little.

“You did,” she whispered, barely restraining a grin. “And it was hot.”

“Well if you’re confident enough to sass me you must be all right,” he laughed. “You here to see Katsuragi?”

“No, I’m having tea with Prime Minister Hiraizumi,” she replied casually.

“Business or pleasure?”

“Nosy,” she smirked. “A bit of both I suppose. Not too sure how it’ll go over but I have to try.”

“Colour me intrigued. My shift ends at six, you up for drinks?” he then offered as they reached the antechamber of the Prime Minister’s office.

“Sorry, can’t,” she frowned. “I’ve decided to make a whole lot more work for myself, but it should be worth it… if I survive.”

“Well you know Katsuragi would endorse a full time position for you here,” he pointed out. “Sora’s English is terrible.”

This made Miho laugh.

“Well if this doesn’t work out who knows, I might have to take him up on that.”

“Just think about it,” he urged. “Surely there are worse fates than seeing my face every day.”

“Oh yes, I believe that to be the truth,” she snickered, and then nodded to one of the guards at the door who entered the office and announced her arrival.

Having spent two years coaching the Prime Minister’s daughter through English scripts, pronunciation and annunciation, as well as other lessons on the language, Miho had earned the trust of Hiraizumi and his friendship. Of course it wasn’t the hang out at a bar or sing karaoke type of friendship, but they enjoyed the kind of familiarity that allowed them to speak with one another frankly.

And that is what Miho did.

“I see,” Hiraizumi mused, touching his chin thoughtfully after Miho had explained her proposal to him.

“I know it’s asking a lot, Sir,” Miho nodded, having already bowed to the man as she pleaded her case, “but it has been long enough just bobbing about from job to job, and after last night I’m certain now is the time to do more than just… make money and survive.”

“That may be how you have viewed your time here, Miho, but I can tell you the impact you had on my daughter, and subsequently me, has been quite significant.”

“Your praise means a lot to m…”

The end of Miho’s sentence was then completely consumed by an explosion that rocked the whole building.

Instantly both Miho and Hiraizumi dropped to the floor, and Miho guided the Prime Minister toward the door before Katsuragi could burst into the room.

“Was that a bomb?” Hiraizumi gasped as he clambered to his feet in the antechamber.

“Sir!” Subaru called, jogging down the corridor. “Car bomb hit the gates.”

“Are the gates in tact?” Katsuragi questioned as he escorted the Prime Minister to a more secure part of the residence, Miho following in tow.

“Looks like the wreckage is blocking the way through,” Subaru reported. “Which could have been the plan.”

“Let’s get the other exits secured,” Katsuragi ordered, then was clearly speaking into his radio mic. “Mizuki north exit, Kaiji east e…”

A second explosion sounded, originating from the same direction as the first.

“Someone’s trying to blast their way in?” Miho hissed.

“Possibly,” Katsuragi nodded gravely. “Stay close. Kaiji, secure that east exit and watch out for fast moving vehicles approaching.”

There was little Miho could do to help, and ultimately was just ushered toward to a safe room; when they reached it however, Katsuragi turned to her with a grim expression.

“I’m afraid you can’t go in Miss Fujiwara,” he stated, and Hiraizumi looked back over his shoulder, a little shocked even though he knew protocol.

“Katsuragi, this is Miho we’re talking about,” he argued.

“It’s okay, Sir,” Miho nodded, taking a step back to find Subaru at her side.

“I won’t let anything happen to her, Sir,” he declared adamantly. “Though, from what I hear she can take care of herself.”

“Do not leave the residence,” Katsuragi ordered.

“No Sir,” Miho responded with a nod, then looked to Subaru. “Hey, don’t just stand there, you have work to do, so go do it.”

The safe room door closed with a heavy thud of finality.

Subaru knew Miho was right, and yet still looked conflicted.

“I’ll just camp out here with these guys until the all clear is called,” she promised, and he narrowed his eyes at her. “Jesus Subaru, will you go already?” she snapped, and with an uncomfortable shrug of his shoulders he took off and left her with several other security staff outside the safe room.

In the two hours of lockdown following that, there were no further explosions, and eventually the Prime Minister was ‘allowed’ to leave his safe room.

“I’m sorry, Miho,” he apologised when he was ushered toward a most necessary briefing.

“Don’t be,” she smiled, shaking her head. “Public Safety is going to be all over this if they aren’t alre…”

“Miss Fujiwara,” a familiar voice came from behind Miho, and it was indeed Ishigami that she found.

“Captain,” she bowed shallowly.

“Your presence here is a mystery to me, but that will have to wait,” he said, curt as always, and she was then pretty much dismissed.

It was Subaru who escorted her from the residence grounds, but she couldn’t even get him to tell her much more about what had happened than she already knew.

“Fine,” she huffed dramatically when he saw her to the far side of the police cordon. “I’ll just have to squeeze Kaga for information later.”

“Later? What later?” Subaru scowled. “Seriously Miho, he’s already gotten you shot, I think you should give the guy a wide berth.”

“It’s sweet that you’re worried about me, but I don’t need a bodyguard,” she laughed lightly, despite the seriousness in his eyes.

“Your shoulder would suggest otherwise,” he retorted, and this made Miho frown.

“Come on, you’re in danger every single day and you don’t see me demanding you stay indoors where the bad guys can’t get you,” she pointed out.

“Because it’s my job and I’ve had training,” he glared, raising his voice a little.

This did not sit well with Miho at all, and her feet scraped in the loose gravel as she adjusted her posture and drew herself up.

“You want to throw down and see whether your training is enough to prevent me from whooping your ass?” she growled. “Ugh! Go… protect someone else!”

Despite her suggestion that they spar for the right to not need to be wrapped up in cotton wool, Miho spun on her heel and began stomping off in the direction of the nearest train station.

 She was still fuming when she returned to the academy, and though classes had finished for the day, the campus was abuzz with news of what had occurred at the residence of the Prime Minister.

“Another terrorist attack?” she heard one student say in a hushed tone.

“Think it’s the same guys?” another questioned.

“They’ve got some real balls attacking the Prime Minister though; these guys mean business.”

Then she overheard something that caught her off guard.

“Hey,” a student whispered as she passed them by. “Did you hear? Instructor Kaga took Instructor Fujiwara on a date last night.”

Spluttering, choking on air, Miho stopped in her tracks, and had to remain there for half a minute while she regained her composure.

“I guess I can see why he’d be into her but, what the hell could she see in him?” another student responded. “What a freakin’ nightmare.”

“Nightmare is right,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head as she headed for her office where she ensconced herself until just before 7pm.

“You’ve got some nerve telling me not to be late,” Kaga dropped when Miho opened to classroom door to find him already there, “then showing up after me.”

“It’s not my fault you’re early,” she pointed out smugly, making a point of leaving the door open.

“What were you doing at the Prime Minister’s residence this afternoon?” he then asked, completely out of left field – though in hindsight, Miho thought she should have seen it coming.

“Is this part of your interrogation technique?” she responded, placing her folder at the front of the classroom, trying not to feel irritated.

Because that is probably exactly what he wants.

“Whether it is or isn’t,” he said, pushing to his feet and beginning that slow, controlled walk in her direction, “doesn’t change the fact I asked you a question.”

He loved doing that, but now she knew what he was up to, Miho told herself it had no effect on her at all.

“Jerk,” she grunted under her breath, digging around in her jacket pocket for a pen when she was shoved firmly back against the whiteboard. “What the…”

“You’re going to ignore me?” he enquired coldly, one hand pressed to the front of her uninjured shoulder.

“I’m going to tell you to take a step back,” she asserted, teeth bared. “If this is how you conduct your interrogations, it’s a wonder you haven’t been discharged for police brutality.”

“This is why I’m the police, and you’re not,” he pointed out sharply, not moving an inch. “I suppose you’d let an alleged terrorist, suspected of blowing up the Prime Minister and killing innocent civilians in the process, go, because you didn’t want to infringe his rights.”

“The law is the law for a reason, Kaga,” she glared, wrapping her right hand around his wrist and attempting to push it away.

It didn’t budge, and if she exerted that arm too much, she might hurt her right shoulder more.

“So you’d be happy with blood on your hands?” he asked, putting his face right in front of hers, noses almost touching. “You’d be okay with the guilt of letting someone go who went on to kill others, only because you didn’t have the guts to take it where it needed to go?”

“I…” she began, and hated herself for how breathless she sounded. “I would not be okay with the guilt of being responsible for a terrorist walking free because I couldn’t control myself and stick to protocol,” she retaliated, her voice growing stronger the longer she spoke.

But she nearly jumped out of her skin when Kaga slammed his left hand against the board beside her head.

“Holy shit,” she chuckled to cover her embarrassment, but inhaled a sharp breath and held it when Kaga’s cheek ever so slightly touched hers. “Ka…”

“This is why Narita thinks women have no place in Public Safety,” he whispered harshly against her ear.

Miho fought not to move – partly because she couldn’t deny this guy was truly frightening, but as much because she didn’t want him to believe she thought that.

“Narita now?” she swallowed, voice painfully, hatefully small. “Narita’s an asshole, and you…”

“Me?” he prompted, and this time he leaned his body against her lightly, this time with that single syllable his lips brushed her earlobe.

“Kaga, the door is open,” Miho pointed out, turning her face in the other direction, hoping that a face full of her hair would discourage him. “Anyone could walk by – Jesus, it’s already all over campus we took me on a date.”

Abruptly, Kaga rocked back, and before she could stop herself, Miho’s body released some of its pent up tension in relief.

A bit prematurely.

“Should I close it then? The door?” he suggested, but he was already moving toward it.

“No,” Miho barked, then tried to temper her tone. “Ah, no, Kaga, let’s just leave it…”

Click.

“… open,” she finished, giving herself completely away.

“See, now your heart is really pounding,” he told her, a sinister narrator reapproaching. “You’re starting to sweat, and you’re questioning just how far I will go.”

“True,” she admitted, hoping perhaps that she could placate him by taking his ‘lesson’ seriously – as a lesson – if that is what it was. “I should write this down.”

But his hand against her folder prevented her from picking it up.

“Okay, I get it,” she hissed. “Can we move on now?”

“And you’re asking yourself if you actually have the skill or the strength to fight back, if I’m serious about… moving on,” he pressed, and Miho bumped against the lectern as she stepped back.

As she stumbled, throwing out her good arm for something to steady herself against, it was Kaga she found.

Bravado scampered like a cockroach as far from her as it could go, taking part of her self-respect with it, and her body became rigid as his other hand slithered up her spine and lightly took the back of her neck.

“And what was your answer?” he exhaled, hovering so painfully close to her lips Miho dared not respond – all she could do was stare back at him, praying she didn’t look wretched and insipid. “Hmm,” he smiled, tilting his head ever so slightly. “Is that your answer then? Silence?”

There he held her for agonising seconds just hovering with his lips incredibly close to her – and yet she didn’t shove him away as she had the students who had accosted her in the bathroom. Katsuragi’s hot-off-the-press report indicated he had found the Prime Minister being quite calmly ushered along by her after the first explosion at the residence, and but here, now, in his arms, there was no response at all, she was frozen.

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” he then announced, releasing her completely and stepping well out of arm’s reach.

“You…” she murmured, blinking rapidly before she caught herself and snapped her mouth shut.

“You didn’t actually think I was going to kiss you, did you?”

“Actually,” she exhaled, before inhaling very carefully so it didn’t rattle in her chest. “I don’t know what I thought… or think.”

Hastily she grabbed her folder and crossed the room for the door before he could attempt to bar her path, but he remained where he was.

“I didn’t take you for the running away type,” he mused airily, but he did feel a little bit bad for doing what he had… just a little.

“I’m not,” she said as she opened the door, and made a point of looking back at him and glaring with all the balefire she had in her. “I’m the you’re a fucking asshole so I’m leaving, type. Thanks for the lesson.”

The door slammed and Miho stalked down the corridor. She scrawled the wrath of hell on her face, so that should she run into any students they would just get out of her way - and not a single person stopped her.

Her cheeks were still on fire when she reached the edge of campus, and she was glad she found her phone and apartment keys in her pocket.

“God damnit,” she hissed, shaking her head, pacing back and forth across the same piece of sidewalk several times before she took out her phone and tapped out a rapid fire message.

Usual place. RIGHT NOW.

She didn’t wait to see if her recipient responded, stuffing the phone back into her jacket and heading for where she could hail a taxi. There was no need to wait for a reply – she hadn’t been denied yet.

Continue to Part Seven - Don’t Talk

@hifftn -wink- You know where she’s going... don’t you?

[duchessxstarbuck]

No one ever tells you how hard it can be, when you’ve been fighting for a year and are worn down.

[duchessxstarbuck]

Replies coming I am so so sorry for the delay! Tomorrow I promise

Those that don’t know I’m just coming out of chemo treatments and just finished heavy pain meds and so went through a withdrawal phase from them which made me ill, painful and just a mess I couldn’t function right but I’m back to normal now after needing rest.