#my grammar and spelling are both appalling

[depressedstressedlemonzest]

weekly tag wednesday

tagged by: @samantitheos and @mybrainismelted

Weekly Tag Wednesday - Firsts!

Name: Lem

Age: 32

First Pet? We had an array of different dogs and animals before, but the one I remember solidly as the first one with a name that was there longer than a month was a black pug, her official name was Julianna Opal, why? We got Juliana from the movie Quest for Camelot, and Opal was my brother and dad's birthstone. But her name that stuck was Ding based on the dinging her tags made on her food bowl.

First Word? I think to my mother's dismay it was dada. BUT mom tells this good story about the first time I said fuck. I was about three and she was heavily pregnant with my brother, we were playing with barbies on the floor and i just casually slip a "fuck" between whatever barbie babble I was doing, She calmly asks ("I knew I had to be calm because you were three and if I made a scene you'd say fuck everywhere knowing it was bad because you were a little shit") "where did you hear that word honey?" Thinking I'd say my dad. my reply? "From yooooou"

First Celebrity Crush? oh hell, the only one coming to mind is Adrien Brody, which I know was in middle school because I would print pictures of him off in the school library and keep them in a special folder to look at through the day when class was lame. (no shame)

First IRL Crush? His name was Tommy, starting at least in kindergarten to when he moved in third grade. He promised me a kiss once we both turned 18 too, which he never fulfilled.

First kiss? His name was Marty, we hid in the big tunnel on the playground in first grade and the entire memory is blurry, but I remember that little kiss. Now first KIIIIISS i was 16 and we were watching Tarzan at my house and he just leaned over and kissed me during the opening song, before Tarzan's parents died.

First Car? fuuuuck I loved that thing. a 1991 grand marquis mercury. BEST BOAT ever

First apartment/house/dorm/whatever away from your parents? I moved in with my best friend (still my best friend) and my boyfriend at the time, into a trailer, three bed two bath, big ass kitchen, I loved the shower/bath it was huuuge.

First time on a plane? Never been on one.

First cellphone? a tracfone

First concert? Fallout Boy right before the pandemic.

First Foreign country you visited? Never been to one.

First sport you ever played? soccer when I was four or five.

First career aspiration? National Geographic photographer

And finally… tell me about the first time you wrote/drew/created/whatever something that made you think "wow". Middle School, wrote a four composition book length book about a girl who fell in love with a werewolf then got kidnapped by the evil werewolf creator and taken to his evil castle in the artic, where she started learning spells and when her beloved came to rescue her she helped kick ass.

Cringingly i tried to read through it and edit it a few years ago and I was APPALLED that I ASKED my 7th grade english teacher to read it and edit my grammar and spelling.

I swear to fuck she and the other teachers must have had discussions about it because they ALL made some comment about my book here and there and asked to be mentioned when I published my first one.

THERE WERE MAKEOUT SCENES

THERE WAS DISNEY SONG INSERTS

SHE THOUGHT JCPENNY WAS A HIGH END FASHION STORE

THE MALE LOVE INTEREST (THE WEREWOLF) HAD NEVER HAD MCDONALDS IN HIS TWENTIES AND SHE INTRODUCED IT TO HIM LIKE IT WAS AMBROSIA AND HONEY

god the flashbacks

I'll tag @witchboywitchboywitchboy @suzy-queued @ian-galagher

[mlleonirires]

In the end, you're still yourself (short Hazbin Hotel writing piece)

~Summary~

This short writing piece (about 500 words) is basically about what a random sinner could think upon finally getting to see their new demonic body after being in Hell for a few days. I wrote it in the second person p.o.v so that you can imagine your own OC/sinner-sona in case these reflexions fit them. Maybe it doesn't make sense and I'm aware it's not perfect 😭 I wrote it it less than an hour and English is not my first language, so sorry if there are any grammar and/or spelling mistakes!

Trigger warning: body insecurities (non-specified)

××××

You've been staring at yourself in the mirror for a while now, trying to fathom why your human body -which you never really liked in the first place- completely vanished, leaving you with an even more hideous anthropomorphic bestial shell. Was that your soul? Yet all those insecurities plastered on your new body were perhaps remnants of those you had had in your life, blantant, undesirable reminiscences of the person you once were. Inspite of their presence, all you could see in yourself was a pure demon. You thought you had reached the peak of torture, now chastised in your worsening proclivity to self-loathe. Well, that's Hell. You could not really expect to find anything positive about yourself, or anything positive at all, in a realm whose main purpose was to damn sinners.

Your thoughts shifted to some other sinners you had seen indulging in their sinful desires ever since you had spawned here. On the surface you would swear they were rejoicing, feeling free at last, seemingly not constrained by specific laws or societal standards, not that Hell surprisingly lacked standards, but those were more enabling (when it came to such desires and/or activities). Deep down, however... You wondered whether they were loosing themselves even more. Was it all a desperate attempt to feel some sort of illusion of having control over their predicament? This would explain why deals were so common, especially soul contracts. Both parties seemed to crave for control and power, yet only the dominant one got those benefits.

So, in the end, have you really become a demon yet? Objectively, there was no doubt about it. If you were to ask someone in the streets, they would most certainly give you weird looks and tell you that you were indeed a demon. There was nothing angelic nor humanly about you anymore, now was it? Subjectively, well... As much as you disliked your new appearance, you could still see yourself in your own reflection. Physical concerns aside, your thought process did not change much either. The values you had acquired on Earth, however aligned or misaligned they may have been with Heaven's ones, were still the same. You somehow knew you would still enjoy your hobbies, your favourite food, that one joke you could never get tired of... As corny as it may sound, you hadn't lost your ability to love either. You still got appalled when you saw how horrible some people could be, despite being exposed to the worst practically everyday in Hell.

Granted, it might have been because you hadn't been here for so long, but you were almost certain those were strong evidences showing there was still humanity in you. By this logic, other sinners probably had little traits pertaining to their former human lives, namely the way they felt emotions. Even those who were letting their sins consume them might have felt desperate... What's more human than seeking solace- in questionable things, sure-when one feels lost? All these reflexions were probably asinine. Once you stopped pondering, you were aware you would hate yourself again tomorrow. You would think you're the most vile thing to have ever existed, but right now, you clung onto the comfort of such reasonings.

[imsfire2]

List 5 topics you can talk on for an hour without preparing any material.

I've been tagged by @sleeplessant so here we go, in no particular order:

Ceramics. My current creative passion, and one of the happiest discoveries of my adult life. Believe me, clay is very exciting! There's so much to learn and so much room to experiment, and every time you fire a piece, there's a wonderful additional benefit in having to let go of the need for control, because you can literally never be 100% sure of what state your work will be in when it comes out of the kiln. As well as that, the intense focus of concentrating on making something by hand is intensely relaxing and very good for the mental health. And you get a plate you can eat off at the end (or a bowl, or mug, or a vase, or a sculpture...).

Greece. The beautiful land of Hellas, and the Hellene people with their wonderful culture, history, language and cuisine. I could probably talk for way more than an hour on each of those topics, not to mention the legends and mythology, the landscapes and seascapes, and the joys of travelling in Greece.

Working as an artists' model, with all its delights and tribulations. I love my work and find it fascinating, but I have so many horror stories about the life room, and indeed the art world in general. Many are hilarious; some are appalling. It's an entire subculture, utterly batty at times, and full of extraordinary people, both heroes and arseholes.

Making new clothes out of recycled old clothes. Combine the fun of fashion with the satisfaction of recycling and repurposing things that would otherwise end up in landfill - and get a new pair of shorts out of it!

Proofreading, spelling, and general literacy, and why these are so important. In current education and everyday communications, especially on social media, there's a casual disregard for correct spelling and grammar; and so long as everyone is cool with that, and you're all speaking the same codes, that will work ok. But at some point or other in life we can all find ourselves in a situation where being unable to spell correctly, or unaware of how to construct a grammatical sentence, can be disastrous. You don't get a job interview despite being highly experienced in the field; your manuscipt is rejected out of hand; your dissertation is marked down so hard you fail your degree course. All because you can't spell and don't know the rules of writing in your own language, and irresponsible teachers have been letting you coast for years without learning them. Spellcheckers (and their nightmare cousins, grammar checkers) are by no means the answer - they cannot, for example, tell the difference between "now" and "not", and exchanging one of these for the other will hugely alter the meaning of your sentence. Yes, languages evolve constantly, and this is great; but it's simple pragmatism to be able to write your native language "correctly" in the present time. And if you can't, then own up to it and get a proofreader!

OK, ahem, rant over.

I'm going to nominate @thefulcrumcaptain, @ladyk23, @snooziep, @jynappreciationsquad and @dasakuryo - but only if you have the time and the spoons!

[primordial-shade]

I wanna fix it

Ok, so here I am making a HOTD AU because I have seen a fair few and I am a mischievous crow who picks up shiny things and immediately gets consumed by them.

 General warnings for this AU:

General HOTD fuckery and such.

Also I am Team Black but I do think the little Greens can be redeemed if they were gotten to young enough.

 This was written whilst super very bored but also was stuck in training so please forgive the appaling spelling and grammar.

Ok so here we go!

  The first Key difference is that Rhaenyra took an interest in her     younger siblings.

Ok I know she has an issue with Alicent, which fair, and her     father, which fair. 

But these are her baby siblings. God when I think     about how many she lost I just want to cry.

And yeah I get her resentment for possibly being replaced but after     her father's reassurance of her being heir.

Listen, she must be so lonely.

Like Laenor and Laena have each other and the previous generation     was full of people before all the untimely deaths.

Rhaenyra only really had Alicent and at times Laena and Laenor.

Why did my girl not have a contingency of Ladies in Waiting?? Thats     like a thing? She should have got that.

Ok anyway, my point.

My point is that Rhaenyra is probbaly so fucking lonely so yeah.     After she's assured she is going to be heir she goes and just... visits     Aegon.

He's her only living sibling. She doesn't entirely     love the name and what it represents but she knew her father wanted to     call the kid Aemon after his dear uncle. But both Alicent and Rhaenys took     this poorly for widely different reasons so it was a no go.

So anyway, baby Aegon. She heads to his nursery. 

TO her shock and horror there is only a Nursemaid there.

Like, a single maid.

And a Hightower Guard who demands Rhaenyra leave under orders of     the hand but is summarily 'excused' by Ser Erykwho is her swornshield     still.

Ser Crispy Cunt may have won a Tourney but Eryk has been at     Rhaenyra's side since she was born.

He is not giving that up, that is HIS baby girl your honor. Just     because some Knight unseated him does not mean he is no longer her     Kingsguard.

(I have this headcanon that Kingsguards are assigned to royal     children Pretty much at birthand they stick with them, nothing except     death will seperate them.)

Anyway, Rhaenyra is horrified.

Her mother was pregnant enough times that Rhaenyra learned what was     required of a newborn baby, especially a royal one. And her brother is a     royal dragon.

He doesn't even have an egg in his crib??!

Absolutely not. Not on her watch.

The nursemaid is questioned and she immediately spouts it all. She     is a nursemaid of the Targaryeans, not the Hightowers despite their best     efforts to try and get one in for the young prince. Viserys would not have     it.

She says the Consort Alicent, because that is her proper title, has     not visited the Prince at all since his birthand neither has     Visery's.

(Viserys is still in his fucking guilt trip and Alicent, I'm sorry     to admit I don't think was a good mother due to how young she was and the     way she and her father went about things. I recgonise her victimhood but     she is still a shitty person.)

And Rhaenyra instantly knows this is bad.

She has had motehring beat into her head since she was old enough. And Aemma was explicit on what is     required of a Valryian dragon rider babe.

They need a Targaryean Parent, their natural fire     will suffer if not regularly held by one. And, for those especially     without dragons from birth, can cause extreme illness.

In fact thats when she realises that her baby brother wasn't quiet,     he was sick with exhaustion.

So she wastes no time pciking him up and craddling him.

His nursemaid actively weeps in relief as the young Aegon instantly     perks up in his sisters arms. Beginning to cry like a proper little     dragon.

Rhaenyra spends the first hour with her brother holding him,     helping the nursemaid feed him until he is looking much more alive than he     has in weeks.

He clings to his sister with a strength of a proper dragon and     Rhaenyra is as enamoured with him as she is enraged with her father and     Alicent.

So she storms to her father's office.

Viserys is equally delighted at the sight of his daugher holding     her brother as he is mildly terrified of the look of fury on her     face. 

His dear Rhaenyra took after her mother in many ways, but her fury     was purely the good queen Alyssane's.

She nearly screams his whole model to the ground and by the end of     their 'conversation' 5 more nursemaids nd maids of Targaryean loyalty are     given to her brother, along with Ser Aryk as a Kingsguard.

And this is where, in my canon, Otto has FUCKED UP.

His daughter refuses to see his child and Otto is damned if any     loyalist to house Targaryean goes near his priz-grandson.

Rhaenyra of course demands why a knight forbade     her from her brothers nursey and Viserys gets angry.

The knight fucking buckles like wet bread and admits Otto said the     young princess would kill her brother. And the Queen agreed.

It is the first time in an age that Viserys get angry.

Otto is dragged into his rooms by a gleeful Ser Erryk and his Twin     who is equally as vindictive.

He is not killed but he is immediately banished with nothing but     the clothes on his back and a knight instructed to return him to Oldtown     immediately.

So Otto is GONE, but unfortunately not dead. Yet.

Anyway, Rhaenyra is now heavily invested in her brother's wellbeing     and so takes both of them and their kingsguard to go an fetch and egg,     dragging Visery's along as well and he is just so delighted right now.

And thus Aegon gets Sunfyre's egg and is moved to the nursery     closer to her room.

It takes a few hours for Alicent to realise what has happened.

She is not an attentive mother. Every scene I saw her in she looks     massively uncomfortable with motherhood and being around her kids. Which I     get, don;t get me wrong. She is an utter stone cold bitch but I get why.     But its not exactly conducive to stay in your rooms all day or hang out in     the Saept like an 'ideal' aka religious obsessed, queen when you are     trying to raise a Hightower loyal King.

She only hears about it when her father is removed from his rooms     and unceremoniously marched off to Oldtown.

She goes fucking crazy.

The court nearly pisses itself when they hear she has been sent     into seclusion 'until she regains her senses'

WHat they do not realise is that she tried to attack Rhaenyra with     Aegon in hand.

Needless to say she has to so a lot of grovelling and is only let     out due to being pregnant with Helaena.

But from this moment on Visery's places Rhaenyra as the family     'matriarch'. As in the person in charge of their immeidate family and the     children.

Rhaenyra, immeidately claiming on this, asks for Rhaeny's to come     and assist her as she is still young herself and will be looking to be     married soon.

Visery's of course agrees, and then take on Rhaenyra's insistence     he should employ her Velma as his new hand.

He so desperately wants his cousin to like him again he instantly     agrees. SOrt of again leading into the idea that Targaryeans are very     attached to each other.They are literally the last

And thus Rhaeny's returns triumphant as the new Hand of the King.

Rhaenyra has realised, after seeing what hs occured under he     rbloody nose, that she is not being trained as she should. Her Velma is     the most politically intelligent person she knows and she NEEDS that is     she is protect her right and become somewhat politically skilled.

Rhaenys is informed of this plan and says 'Bet'

She is on it.

Honestly she has the unfortunate relisation that Rhaenyra is     lacking a lot due to her mothers absence, not just due to her untimely     MURDER but also due to her long term weakness and constant state of     pregnancy and despair.

Rhaeny's realises she is one of the last Targaryean women alsmost     suddenly.

Thousands of years of female tradition brought over is suddenly     reliant entirely on her education and teaching of the only two other     Targaryean girls in the world. The Lineage VIsenya and Rhaenys themselves     had passed down.

Shit.

On an off note it genuinely persuades her to have another set of     kids. Much to Corly's delight. Because holy shit, there are so few     of them.

Anyway anyway.

Rhaenyra basically realises, with heart in her throat, what had     been happening under her nose, what her once best friend, the girl     she had loved, thought Rhaenyra would do to her own little brother.

After that and the way Alicent tried toattack her whilst she held     her brother, Alicents own son, kills whatever love may     have still exsisted in Rhaenyra.

Rhaenys basically, between ruling a kingdom as Hand of the King and     trying to rework the system, begins raising and help raising Rhaenyra and     her siblings alongside her own children.

Woman is busy, Corly's just adores his wife so much.

Alicent is not fucking happy. Honestly part of her major     malfunction is the fact she also lost her mother at a young age and her     father see's her more as a living tool than a child. Ss such she has no     idea how to function outside thatand the instant she meets conflict or     aggression due to 'her'actions she fucking buckles down on it.

In sneaks Larys.

Larys, painfully resentful of his brother and father despite     howmuch both love him, and willing to take any chance to gain power.

Unforntunately for him Rhaenys is arguably one of the most     intelligent politicians currently alive. Yes she has her faults but to     keep her family in power she is willing to do anything.

Anyway, Rhaenyra finds herself going from no support to having the     support of one of the richest and most powerful families besides her own.

Rhaenys is immediate in her expulsion of anyne she suspects to be a     Hightower loyalist. Rhaenyra's aunt Jemma is more than happy to send Aryn     loyal soldiers to replace them and Corly's quickly gathers and train more     soldiers compeltely loyal to the Targaryean family.

Rhaenyra flourishes under her aunts care.She is educated in a way     she was never allowed to be before, taken into council meetings as the     heir should.

Rhaenys also gets her a proper retinue of young     handmaidens, all from powerful families to endear herself to.

Rhaenyra begins taking her own initiative as well. She looks at the     city and realises how poor the staution had become.

She uses her own funds to begin funding repairs to the city but it     won;t be enough. She then realises she may have a business opportunity.

The street of silk.

It is always making money, even in the worst of times, and she is     sure that like her many of the women would like better conditions.

Rhaenys thinks this is a clever idea, but she will need more     funding and to be discreet.

What about the war of the Stepstones?

Rhaenys insists the girl train before joining her uncles and cousin     in the war and quickly inlists someone to train her.

A year later Syrax and Rhaenyra leave Aegon in Rhaeny's hands and     she comes back Queen of the Stepstones a mere 6 months later. Queen of the     Goddamn stepstones.

Her father is obviously beside himself with delight and horror.

But his little girl presents him a crown and declares him King and     all his forgotten and his little girl his home.

A little girl who thought in a war and helped take down a Crab     King, a daughter who had shown herself to be a Vinsenya reborn.

Otto of course tries to use this to his by insinuating Rhaenyra was     fucked by every male Valyrian and solider but it never catches in anyone     except Viserys. Because he's really dumb

So, thus begins the royal Tour.

Rhaenyra is fuming. She also takes Aegon, Helaena,     Laenor, Laena and Corlys with her. The only reason she     doesn't take Rhaenys is because the council and the realm will fall apart.

Corly's has far to much fun as he is given the title of     Professional vetter.

He wanted to marry her to Laenor but her and     Rhaenys were blunt in how poor a choice that would be but Rhaenyra agreed     to marry her first born to the first grandchild of the opposite sex born     from Laena and that Laena and Laenor will be given positions in her court.     And obviously Rhaenys is going to be her Hand as well.

Corly's is more than happy with this honestly. And it makes him     take the job of vetting all the more seriously because thats going to be     his grandchilds future spouse.

And no one is gonna piss off the Sea Snake or his     feral children, especially after Laena and Rhaenyra head to Dragonstone to     pick up some ancestral pieces for Rhaenyra to wear and Laena comes back     with fucking Vhagar.

Laenor pouts, Corly's is proud but nearly has a fucking     heart attack and Rhaeny's is just delighted.

Anyway, royal tour.

Aegon is absolutely not happy his sister is     looking for a husband and delights in scaring away any     possible suitor. Helaena seems calms but will absolutely wail if     someone she hates comes near.

Rhaenyra trusts her siblings instincts and no one is     willing to offend the baby prince or princess. Especially those who barely     made it past Corlys.

Truth is he hated them but just let them past to have Aegon scream     at them.

The they get to Storms end.

Lord Baratheon is being a shit and it takes all of     seconds to send a raven to His wife.

But Rhaenyra takes it on like a chellenge.

Corly's is less able to Vet in this session because these are     all important lords.

Aegon has no such issue and screams and cried when Jason Lanister     Approaches.

Then the fight happens and Rhaeyra stops it and basically rips Lord     Baratheon a new one for nearly allowing a Murder to happen on a royal     procession.

All when one Cregan Stark walks in, a masive Grey Direwolf by his     side.

He practically falls in Love at first sight when he see's his     Silver Haired queen rip into the Storm Lord with fire.

Of course everyone freaks out when they see the future Lord of     WInterfell and his huge Fucking Wolf and Rhaenyra soon realises.

She turns, Amethyst eyes meeting Steel and there is something instant.

He's respectful, calm and looks at her like she hung the sun     itself.

Rhaenyra likes him.

And the best thing is, though Aegon tries, he is instantly won over     by Cregan's wolf, known as Winter.

Rhaenyra head home with a Northern Fiance mcuh to her father's     bemusement and Rhaeny's delight. 

Pulling in one of the most powerful Kingdoms and one     of two that chafed the most under the rule of their family?

Absolute game changer.

Anyway, in my Vision her and Cregan basically become like a new     Rhaenys and Corlys. They match each other like, well, fire and Ice.

(Lol)

Anyway, Rhaenyra also comes back to a new little brother Aemond.

She is very unimpressed with her father but she     quickly takes on her newest sibling with adoration, Much to Aliscents fury     as she is still not allowed near the children without supervision and she     keeps tripping up which means Rhaeny's has her by the neck.

Daemond is also pissy as hell because his Niece is picking someone     else, especially when Laena catches the eye of one Harwin Strong.

He needs to get over it and both women tell him to fuck off and     sulk elsewhere.

He does eventually get over it when he meets the Love of his life     in the form of Lyra Mormont of Bear Island and she basically beats him in     a fight five minutes after knowing him.

Maybe those of the First man Blood are ok?

Poor man, no Targaryean can resist these hnourable and blunt First     man people apparently. (And yeah, harwin is technically of the First men     and his family obviously looks after the Island of trees."

I have a theory they just go sort of feral for each other, Aegon I     had to keep that shit underwraps after finding out because otherwise the     locals couldstart taking advanatge.

Anyway they get super married and soon Jahaera is born, and obvs     all his aunts and uncles adore him.

But they basically think they are Rhaenyra's kids anyway.

But fuck the throne, they don;t want that fucking thing.

Aegon basically grows up how he wants, impassioned by art and story     telling and just flying his dragon.Most key is that he falls in love with     the future Queen of Dorne and basically says, hey can I marry her. They     say yes with the promisehis kid will then Marry Jacaery's kid. Which means     a Dornish Queen.Prince consort in the next generation.

Dorne says ok, because they actually like how Westeros is changing.     Also the yung princess adores Aegon and is like, 'Yes, this artsy pretty     boy who adores me will be perfect."

Aemond, like many true Targaryean men, is a MaleWife. Yes I was     live in sunspear with my spoiled dragon and have many pretty children.

In fact they have 10.

Rhaenyra and Cregan beat them at a whopping 14

And Rhaeny's and Corlys have another three girls. Much to his     delight.

Targaryean baby boom, hells yeah.

Also Aemond and Helaena also get Betroathed, because por girl     deserves a life of chilling with her bugs and going on adventures with her     Love. They have 9 kids. 

Lots of targaryeans and with it, a fuck load more Dragons. Each kid     basically catches a dragon egg or a wild dragon.

Jahaeres grabs Vermithor and Laena's daughter with Harwin Rhaena,     yes I know, gets Silverwing.

The people of Westeros go fucking Nutty for that.

Also Laena and Harwin have like 6 kids, mostly because after the     the 6th giant baby Laena     said no goddam more because the last set were triplets. All their kids are     taller than her, their all giants.

Daemon and Lyra end up having 9 children, three sets of triplets,     all girls. Their also all fucking amazons.

Daemon basically gets to live the life of his dreams. He fights     Iron-Born on the regular and his wife's people love him, he barely has to     do any work, the North actually likes his blunt rudeness, and his family     is prosepering. All his daughters bully him as well. he adores his life.

Also can’t forget my boy Laenor. Love him. Basically lives a more     open life with his partner Joffrey WHO DOESN’T DIE. Creates a new position     known as Maester of Civilians, which is essentially taking care of     education and etc, with his sister as co-Master. Rhaeny’s is hand of the Queen     but eventually passes it on to her third child Aemma.

Also Jahaerys is Jon Snow. I don't make the rules, no yes I do and     I want Jon to have loving alive parents. But the little fucker is also     cursed to be the Prince that was Promised so here he is. But honestly bruv     I gave you living parents who fucking love, an amazon wife who is really     fucking smart, a big ass dragon.

Oh, also a wolf. Yeah, Cregan gets a direwolf up north but also     finds a puppy for each of his kids. So Jon/Jaehaerys gets his Ghost back.

So yeah, the night King things comes a wee bit earlier, around when     Jaehaery's hits 25.

But at that point there are about 60 Targaryeans and their fully     grown Dragons.

Also Jaehaeras sister, Sansa, because I am funny and Cregan wanted     half his kids to have Northern names, becomes Lady of Winterfell.

Because I say so.

Also the rest of Jon's siblings are reborn as his siblings because     I watched a video abut the Starks tragedies and I am now in my feels about     it. SO yeah, all of them. All get dragons and direwolves to. No more     goddamn Stark deaths in this universe.

So yeah, Night King, dead, so fucking dead. He does try bless his     stupid heart, but between Jaehaerys and his protective half feral family     he is wiped the fuck out.

And no one dies. Because I said so no i don't care if its not     realistic.

Afterwards its a golden age.

Maesters are got rid of and replaced with a more robust system with     no connection to any religion, the Old gods and the 14 flames become the     more popular religions but religious freedom is allowed. Quality for men     and women because Rhaenyra and Jaehaerys are fully for women and say no to     them. Say no to their dragons and direwolf. Go on, I dare you. So women     can inherit, matriarchal lines are developed etc.

Also improvement to civilians lives. More education, better health,     a functioning sewer system. Women and men can learn and teach and learn to     fight, because what if something like the Night King happenes again?? Like     fuck are they having half a fighting force. Also women can defend     themselves from men now.

Jaehaerys even gets the first two female Kingsguard, much to his     mother's anooyance and pride because goddamit she wanted to do that.

Basically Westeros becomes a better Valerian empire. No slavery,     religious freedom, less wealth disparity and an ability for better social     maneverability. Jaehaery's cousin Daenaery;s (leave me alone) by Aegon and     his wife even heads over to Essos with her numerous dragon     riding relatives to take out the slave masters and free the free cities.

Because she can and also fuck the slave masters and slavers. She     even brings back her besties Missandei and Grey worm who get set up well     in Westeros because otherwise I will cry.

[roxywild1229]

So I have been listening to the specific episode from The Meat Improv episode with Ellie Kovara and Brennan Lee Mulligan when I'm driving recently and I just wanted to talk about it because I'm currently in a reflective mood, and maybe people will like it.

As a person who went to a tiny village school in the countryside of England with the vicar visiting every other Wednesday to read a passage and then listen attentively to tiny children ramble on about their day, a religion class focused on showing us that other religions and belief structure outside of the one our school practised, with people coming into speak on their own traditions, school walks to the tiny church down the road to sing old hymns and Christmas chorales at the end of the year, passing horses and fields in line of two, where my parents let my siblings and I chose to be christened when we were older than five, and the whole school coming to watch and celebrate. My granny whispering tales and warnings of Sìth and Tylwyth Teg as walked along the shore, whilst also being an ardent member of her tiny village's church choir.

Then I moved to another country, to a massive, very strict, militant catholic school, with a required chapel service every Friday, school-wide mass every month, and hour-long sermons from teachers and priests. Religion class was dedicated to memorizing each and every book, verse, and word, each lesson having to begin with a prayer to a god that some did not believe in.

And all the while I was slowly weeding out through online media my relationship with faith and struggling with my sexuality and gender not fitting into the worlds that many around me let their life be dictated by.

I think about this specific podcast episode a lot.

Because I experienced both this loving, homely god as a kid and then this militant, omnipotent, uncaring god. The dichotomy of all these practices and the process of discovering my identity kinda just propelled me into atheism. But I still have this love of the traditions, of the community. and on top of the hilarious improv, Brennan and Ellie just kinda hit the nail on the head with how i feel towards the faith is was raised in.

I def recommend a listen.

[jiubilant]

Five minutes after foiling a Thalmor plot, the College of Winterhold’s surviving staff straggle into a faculty meeting.

“Tolfdir,” Urag says patiently, “I don’t care what the Psijic Order said. You can’t name some clerk Archmage.”

“He survived Labyrinthian,” says Tolfdir, his voice mulish and thin. He’s sprawled on the steps of the focal well like a disheveled philosopher, his robes ripped, his beard singed and afluff. “The proving-ground of Archmages past. And he brought us the Staff of Magnus, for gods’ sake—”

“That means nothing,” Faralda protests, sinking with a wince to sit on the lowest stair. Her sharp, solemn face is streaked with sweat and dirt. “Less than nothing. Any one of us could have gotten the Staff.”

One by one, the wizards of Winterhold—filthy and frustrated, weary from long weeks of toil and trouble—mutter their agreement.

“Any one of us could have gotten it faster,” grumbles one.

“Ervine sent him to fetch it,” says another, “because he was too useless to do anything else.”

“I’ve got several staves,” someone else drawls. “Should I put them on my résumé?”

Half the voices in the room rise in tired unison. “Shut up, Enthir.”

“He wouldn’t have lasted two minutes in Labyrinthian,” says Sergius, his smile smug, “without my spellery. See that amulet? Those rings? Some of my best work. Ought to make me Archmage.”

Drevis, half-dozing on a lecture bench, snorts. “Ought to make me Archmage for teaching him the only spell he knows.”

A high, hoarse voice pipes up from the corner of the hall. “Can I be Archmage?”

“You’re an adjunct, Nirya.”

“At least I work here.”

“Oh, for the love of Julianos,” snaps Arniel, throwing up his hands. “I’ll say it, if no one else will. The man’s a drake-a-dozen scribbler. We’ll be the laughingstock of the academic world if we appoint an Archmage with a godsdamned grammar-school education—”

The disputed Archmage of Winterhold, to all appearances asleep on the floor, opens one red eye.

“You know,” he rasps, his voice thin as a cobweb, “s’not so different from this place, grammar school.”

One by one, the wizards of Winterhold turn to stare.

The Archmage closes his eyes with a smile. “They both teach you to spell.”

In the appalled silence that follows, Tolfdir clears his throat.

“Well, there you have it,” he says, his smile strained. “Shall we put it to a vote?”

[causeiwanttoandican]

Harry, Meghan and me: my truth as a royal reporter

I've covered elections and extremism, but nothing compares to the vitriol I've received since I started writing about the Sussexes

By Camilla Tominey, Associate Editor27 March 2021 • 6:00am

It is probably worth mentioning from the outset that I never, ever, planned to become a royal reporter. I mean, who does? It’s one of those ridiculous jobs most people fall into completely by accident.

I certainly wasn’t coveting the position when I first found out how bonkers the beat could be after covering Charles and Camilla’s wedding in 2005. Desperate for ‘a line’ on what went on at the reception, journalists were reduced to flagging down passing cars in Windsor High Street and interrogating the likes of Stephen Fry about whether they’d had the salmon or the chicken.

Watergate, this wasn’t.

Yet when my former editor called me into his office shortly afterwards and offered me the royal job ‘because you’re called Camilla and you dress nicely’, who was I to refuse?

Having planned to get married myself that summer, and start a family soon afterwards, I looked to the likes of Jennie Bond and Penny Junor and figured it would be a good patch for a working mother as well as being one I could grow old with. Unlike show business, when celebrities are ‘in’ one minute and ‘out’ the next, the royals would stay the same, making it easier to build – and keep – contacts.

So if you’d told me that 16 years later, I would find myself at the centre of a media storm over a royal interview with Oprah Winfrey, I’d have probably laughed in your face. First of all, only royals like Fergie do interviews with Oprah. And since when did journalists become the story?

Yet as I have experienced since the arrival of Meghan Markle on the royal scene in 2016 – a move that roughly coincided with Twitter doubling its 140-character limitation to 280 – royal reporters like me now find themselves in the line of fire like never before.

We are used to the likes of Kate Adie coming under attack in the Middle East, but now it is the correspondents who write up events like Trooping the Colour and the Royal Windsor Horse Show having to take cover from the keyboard warriors supposedly defending the Duke and Duchess of Sussex’s ‘truth’.

Accusations of racism have long been levelled against anyone who has dared to write less than undiluted praise of Harry and Meghan. But even I have been taken aback by the vitriol on social media in the wake of the couple’s televised two-hour talk-a-thon, in which they branded both the Royal family and the British press racist while complaining about their ‘almost unsurvivable’ multimillionaire lives at the hands of the evil monarchy. And all while the rest of the UK were losing their loved ones and livelihoods in a global pandemic.

Having covered Brexit, general elections and stories about Islamic extremism, I’ve grown used to being sprayed with viral vomit on a fairly regular basis, but when you’ve got complete strangers trolling your best friend’s Instagram feed by association? That’s Britney Spears levels of toxic.

Having a hind thicker than a rhino’s, it wasn’t the repeated references to my being ‘a total c—’ that particularly bothered me, nor even the suggestion that I should have my three children put up for adoption. At one point someone even said it would be a good idea for me to drink myself to death like my mother, about whose chronic alcoholism I have written extensively.

No, what really got me was the appalling spelling and grammar. I mean, if you’re going to hurl insults, at least have the decency to get my name right.

Yet in order to understand just how it has come to pass that so-called #SussexSquaders think nothing of branding all royal correspondents ‘white supremacists’ regardless of who they write for, or sending hate mail to our email addresses, offices – and in some cases, even our homes – it’s worth briefly going to back to when I first broke the story that Prince Harry was dating an American actor in the Sunday Express on 31 October 2016. Headlined: ‘Royal world exclusive: Harry’s secret romance with TV star’, the splash revealed how the popular prince was ‘secretly dating a stunning US actress, model and human rights campaigner’.

Despite my now apparently being on a par with the Ku Klux Klan for failing to acknowledge Meghan as the next messiah, it was actually not until the fifteenth paragraph of that original article that the ‘confident and intelligent’ Northwestern University graduate was described as ‘the daughter of an African-American mother and a father of Dutch and Irish descent’.

Call me superficial, but I was genuinely far more interested in the fact that Harry ‘I-come-with-baggage’ Wales was dating a former ‘briefcase girl’ from the US version of Deal or No Deal than the colour of her skin. A ginger prince punching well above his weight? This was the stuff of tabloid dreams. Little did I know then that covering the trials and tribulations of these two lovebirds would turn into such a nightmare.

The online hostility began bubbling up about eight days after that first story, when Harry’s then communications secretary Jason Knauf issued an ‘unprecedented’ statement accusing the media of ‘crossing a line’.

‘His girlfriend, Meghan Markle, has been subject to a wave of abuse and harassment’, it read, referencing a ‘smear on the front page of a national newspaper; the racial undertones of comment pieces; and the outright sexism and racism of social media trolls and web article comments’. Meghan’s mother, Doria Ragland, had apparently been besieged by photographers, while bribes had been offered to Meghan’s ex-boyfriend along with ‘the bombardment of nearly every friend, coworker, and loved one in her life’.

Suffice to say, I did feel a bit guilty. Although I hadn’t written anything remotely racist or sexist, I had started the ball rolling for headlines like the MailOnline’s ‘(Almost) straight outta Compton’ (referencing a song by hip-hop group NWA about gang violence and Meghan’s upbringing in the nearby LA district of Crenshaw), along with her ‘exotic’ DNA (which I subsequently called out, including on This Morning in the wake of ‘Megxit’ in January last year).

Omid Scobie, co-author of Finding Freedom, a highly favourable account of the Sussexes’ departure from the Royal family, written with their cooperation last summer, would later insist that the couple knew the story of their relationship was coming out and were well prepared for it.

I can tell you categorically that they weren’t, since I did not even put a call into Kensington Palace before we went to press for fear of it being leaked. (I did later discuss this with Harry, when I covered his trip to the Caribbean in November 2016, and to be fair he was pretty philosophical, agreeing it would have come out sooner or later. But that was before the former Army Captain decided to well and truly shoot the messenger, latterly telling journalists covering the newly-weds’ tax-payer-funded October 2018 tour of Australia and the south Pacific: ‘Thanks for coming, even though you weren’t invited.’)

The royal press pack is the group of dedicated writers who cover all the official engagements and tours on a rota system, in exchange for not bothering the royals as they go about their private business. It was a shame this ragtag bunch, of which I am an associate member, was never personally introduced to Meghan when the couple got engaged in November 2017.

I still have fond memories of a then Kate Middleton, upon her engagement to Prince William in November 2010, showing me her huge sapphire and diamond ring following a press conference at St James’s Palace with the words, ‘It was William’s mother’s so it is very special.’

I replied that she might want to consider buying ‘one of those expanding accordion style file holders’ to organise all her wedding paperwork. (Reader, I had given birth to my second child less than four months earlier and was still lactating.)

Not meeting Meghan did not stop royal commentators like me writing reams about her being ‘a breath of fresh air’ and telling practically every TV show I appeared on that she was the ‘best thing to have happened to the Royal Family in years’.

As the world followed the joyous news of the Windsors’ resident strip billiards star having finally found ‘the one’, the couple enjoyed overwhelmingly positive press culminating in their fairy-tale wedding in May 2018, which we headlined ‘So in love’ above a picture of the bride and groom kissing. I tweeted the wedding front page, along with the original story breaking the news of their relationship with the words, ‘Job done’. Yet, as Meghan would later point out in a glossy Santa Barbara garden, that was by far the end of the story.

According to the Duchess’s testimony before a global audience of millions, the seeds for their royal departure were actually sown by an article I wrote in November 2018 suggesting she made Kate cry during a bridesmaid’s dress fitting for Princess Charlotte.

Claiming the ‘reverse happened’, the former Suits star railed, ‘A few days before the wedding she was upset about something, pertaining to, yes, the issue was correct, about flower-girl dresses, and it made me cry, and it really hurt my feelings.’

She then went on to criticise the palace for failing to correct the story – suggesting that royal aides had hung her out to dry to protect the Duchess of Cambridge.

All of which left me in a bit of a sticky situation. As I told Phillip Schofield on This Morning the following day, ‘I don’t write things I don’t believe to be true and that haven’t been really well sourced.’

Having seemingly been completely bowled over by Meghan’s version of events, Schofe then went for the jugular: ‘I have to say, though, that’s all addressed in that interview, isn’t it, because she [Meghan] couldn’t understand why nobody stood up for her?’

Yet someone had stood up for her, on that very same This Morning sofa: me.

As I told Phil and Holly on 14 January 2019, as more reports of ‘Duchess Difficult’ started to emerge, ‘I think she [Meghan] is doing really well, she looks amazing, she speaks well. She has played a blinder.’

So you’ll forgive me if I can’t quite understand why Meghan didn’t feel the need to correct this supposedly glaring error once she had her own dedicated head of communications from March 2019 – or indeed when she ‘collaborated’ with Scobie, who concluded in his bestselling hagiography that ‘no one cried’?

Moreover, how did the Duchess know a postnatal Kate wasn’t ‘left in tears’? And if she doesn’t know, what hope has the average troll observing events through the prism of their own deep-rooted insecurities?

It appears the actual truth ceases to matter once sides have been taken in the unedifying Team Meghan versus Team Kate battle that has divided the internet.

Make no mistake, there are abject morons at both extremes spewing the sort of bile that, ironically, makes most of the media coverage of Harry and Meghan look like a 1970s edition of Jackie magazine.

It perhaps didn’t help my case that the day before the interview was aired in the US, I had written a lengthy piece carefully weighing up the evidence behind allegations of ‘outrageous bullying’ that had been levelled against Meghan during what proved to be a miserable 20 months in the Royal family for all concerned.

The messages – to my Twitter feed, my email, my website and official Facebook page – ranged from the threatening, to the typical tropes about media ‘scum’ and the downright bizarre. Some accused me of being in cahoots with Carole Middleton, with whom I have never interacted, unless you count a last-minute Party Pieces purchase in a desperate moment of poor parental planning.

Another frequent barb was questioning why the press wasn’t writing about that ‘pedo’ [sic] Prince Andrew instead – seemingly oblivious to the fact that no one would know about the Duke of York’s links to Jeffrey Epstein if it wasn’t for the acres of coverage devoted to the story by us royal hacks over recent years.

It didn’t matter that I had repeatedly torn the Queen’s second, and, some say, favourite son to pieces for everything from his propensity to take his golf clubs on foreign tours to that disastrous Newsnight interview.

Contrary to the ‘invisible contract’ Harry claims the palace has with the press, royal coverage works roughly like this: good royal deeds = good publicity. Bad royal deeds = bad publicity. We effectively act as a critical friend, working on behalf of a public that rightly expects the royals to take the work – but not themselves – seriously.

So when a royal couple preaches about climate change before taking four private jets in 11 days, it is par for the course for a royal scribe to point out the inconsistency of that message. None of it is ever personal, as evidenced by the fact that practically every member of the monarchy has come in for flak over the years.

If Oprah wasn’t willing to point out the discrepancies in Harry and Meghan’s testimony, surely it is beholden on royal reporters to question how the Duchess had managed to undertake four foreign holidays in the six months after her wedding, in addition to official tours to Italy, Canada, and Amsterdam, as well as embarking on a lengthy honeymoon, if she had ‘turned over’ her passport?

While no one would wish to undermine the extent of her mental health problems, could it really be true that she only left the house twice in four months when she managed to cram in 73 days’ worth of engagements, according to the Court Circular, in the 17 months between her wedding and the couple’s departure to Canada?

And what of the ‘racist’ headlines flashed up during the interview purporting to be from the British press, when more than a third were actually taken from independent blogs and the foreign media? The UK media abides by the Independent Press Standards Organisation’s Code of Conduct ‘to avoid prejudicial or pejorative reference to an individual’s race’, as well as by rigorous defamation laws. And rightly so – the British press doesn’t always get it right. But social media is the Wild West by comparison, publishing vile slurs on a daily basis with impunity.

Some therefore find it strange that such a litigious couple would claim to have been ‘silenced’ when they have made so many complaints, including resorting to legal action, over stories they claim not to have even read. There is something similarly contradictory about a couple accusing the tabloids of lacking self-reflection while refusing to take any blame at all – for anything.

In any normal world, informed writing on such matters would be classed as fair comment, but not, seemingly, on Twitter where those completely lacking any objectivity whatsoever are only too willing to virtue signal and manoeuvre.

As the trolling reached fever pitch in the aftermath of the interview, veteran royal reporter Robert Jobson of the Evening Standard called me. ‘Don’t respond to these freaks,’ he advised. ‘It’s getting nasty out there. Watch your back!’

Yet despite my general sense of bewilderment at the menacing Megbots, I can’t say it didn’t appal me to discover a close friend had received online abuse, purely by dint of being my mate. After discussing the lengths the troll must have gone to to track her down, she asked me, ‘Do you ever worry someone might do something awful to you?’ Er, not until now, no.

Of course it’s upsetting, even for a cynical old-timer like me. Worse still are people who actually know me casting aspersions on my profession on social media. Often these are the same charlatans who would think nothing of sidling up to me for the latest gossip on the Royal family, while publicly pretending that reading any such coverage is completely beneath them.

Most pernicious of all though – not least after Piers Morgan’s departure from Good Morning Britain following a complaint to ITV and Ofcom from the Duchess – is the corrosive effect this whole hullabaloo is having on freedom of speech. When you’ve got a former actor effectively editing a British breakfast show from an £11 million Montecito mansion, what next?

I cannot help but think we are in danger of setting race relations back 30 years if people are seriously suggesting that any criticism of Meghan is racially motivated. It’s the hypocrisy that gets me. When Priti Patel was accused of bullying, the very same people who willingly hung the Home Secretary out to dry are now the ones defending Meghan against such claims, saying they have been levelled at her simply because she is ‘a strong woman of colour’.

Of course journalists should take responsibility for everything they report and be held to account for it – but Harry and Meghan do not have a monopoly on the truth simply because the close friend and neighbour who interviewed them in return for £7 million from CBS took what they said as gospel.

If she isn’t willing to probe the disparity between Meghan saying someone questioned the colour of Archie’s skin when she was pregnant, and Harry suggesting it happened before they were even married, then someone must. There’s a name for such scrutiny. It’s called journalism.

The public reserves the right to make up its own mind – with the help of the watchful eye of a free and fair press. But that press can never be free or fair if journalists do not feel they can report without fear or favour. I’m lucky that a lot of the criticism I face is more than balanced out by hugely supportive members of the public and online community who either agree – or respect the right to disagree. Along with the hate mail, I have had many thoughtful and eloquent missives, including those that good naturedly challenge what I have written in the paper or said on TV, which have genuinely given me pause for thought.

I am more than happy to enter into constructive discourse with these correspondents, who are frankly sometimes the only people who keep me on Twitter. I mean, let’s face it, I wouldn’t be anywhere near the bloody thing if this wasn’t my day job.

With the National Union of Journalists this month declaring that harassment and abuse had ‘become normalised’ within the industry, never have members of Britain’s press needed more courage. As Winston Churchill famously said, ‘You have enemies? Good. That means you’ve stood up for something, sometime in your life.’

Who would have thought that the preservation of the fundamental freedoms that we hold so dear should partially rest on the shoulders of those who follow around a 94-year-old woman and her family for a living?

If I’d known then what I know now, would I still have written the bridesmaid’s dress story?

Yes – doubtlessly reflecting sisterly sobs all round. But after two decades in this business, I am clear-eyed enough to know this for certain: whatever I had written, it would still have ended in tears.

[innerthoughtsofblank]

Chapter One

I would like to start off by saying that my grammar and spelling is atrocious and I honestly can not be bothered to edit. This space is for me to just word vomit. Along with that, I would like to mention that I talk about undiagnosed things. In saying that before anyone attacks me I am seeing a psychiatrist soon and this is assumed by both myself, my GP and my psychologist. 

note: I do not have to explain my self diagnosis. it is a privilege to get a diagnosis. Remember, not everyone can afford the fees. not everyone has access to safe help. and remember... no one has to validate themselves to you.

Anyways today was a rough one for me. I, as most young people these days, looked in the mirror and was appalled at what I saw. This isn’t something new for me. I have experienced body dysmorphia majority of my life and have an ED that my undiagnosed ADHD and BPD seems to forget about. But today I couldn't forget about it. This time last year I was a size AUD6 depending on the brand and a year before that I was a size AUD4. Today I am a size AUD12. I know it may not seem so bad but when you see yourself from skin and bones to a healthy weight to now your binge eating kicking full speed ahead within a year and a bit... it’s a massive shock. But don't get me wrong, I've known for a while that I was starting to gain weight visibly. New stretch marks in places I would never expect to see them. I am scared to work out publicly. I have made such a stigma in my head that only skinny people go to the gym. I also don’t buy things I like because i’m waiting to lose weight. I know I'm not healthy and I am angry at myself for getting to this point where I stop loving myself and giving my body the nourishment it deserves.

So here's to me... I am starting a new diet. and no not one that cuts out everything important. and no not one that is borderline an eating disorder. I am actually going to eat things my body is going to thank me for. Not things my body enjoys for a short period of time. I know I should work out too... but I honestly am so busy and my brain is incapable of staying organised and on top of things. Like honestly, I am here writing god knows what for probably no one to read instead of catching up on my three weeks of uni work. 

but hey... HERES TO THE NEW ME! 

- Blank 

[toloveawarlord]

Distractions

You can find my masterlist in my bio!

Event Masterlist: 50 Types of Kisses

Characters: Joanna x Edgar

Prompt: Kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other’s lap.

Requester: @thetwinkims​​

Tagging: @plumpblueberry​     @donthurtmeimbaby​​(Please let me know if you would like to be tagged!)

A/N: I ship these two so hardcore.

[This event is closed]

“You should take a break.”

This made the third time he’d interrupted with those same words.

Truly irritating.

The drumming of his gloved fingers against the wood of the desk. His incessant humming. The glimmer of mischief reflecting in jade irises that refused to do anything other than stare at her as he leaned on the desk with one elbow, chin resting on his palm. A little too close.

Sat at the desk in the main office, Joanna refused to lift her gaze from the paperwork before her. The moment she did, the game would be lost. She couldn’t bear to let him have the satisfaction of distracting her.

God, he smelled so good.

Heat spread across her cheeks. Obviously, it was the new shampoo that she’d recommended that had caused her to notice. With how close he remained; it wouldn’t be outrageous to have such a thought.

Joanna cleared her throat, elegantly penning her signature across the bottom of the document. “I will take a break in the afternoon.” Too much needed to be done. King Lancelot was out for the day, meaning she had both her duties and his to attend to while he was away.

“It’s nearly six, my Queen. The afternoon has long passed you by.”

He’d gained her attention.

Amber eyes rose to find the clock hanging on the wall. “So it is.” Perhaps that was the reason for her foul mood. No soldiers had dared come in to bother her in hours, as she’d properly reprimanded some for inadequately writing their reports. A little too harshly, but they would never learn if not corrected.

Edgar had been the sole one not bothered by her prickly attitude, coming, and going as he pleased.

Her day had begun before the sun had risen and now it had begun its decent behind the horizon.

“It’s irrelevant. I have more work to be completed. And as I have no need for assistance, you can leave me be.” Joanna rose from the chair, papers in hand to file them on the shelf. Keeping her gaze fixed forward, she listened carefully but never heard him leave.

Turning to return to the desk, her eyes narrowed at the sight of the Jack of Hearts now occupying her chair. “Edgar. I’m ordering you to leave.” The endless stack of documents in need of approval or disapproval should be handled before King Lancelot returned.

“I decline to follow.”

She’d dump him out of that chair if she had to.

The moment she came within reach, Edgar snatched her dainty wrist, tugging the Queen off balance and down onto his lap. His arm slipped around her waist to hold her there. “You are quite adorable with that shade of pink across your cheeks.”

His teasing only deepened the color on her porcelain features. “Release me this instant, Edgar! Mmph-” 

Edgar silenced any more protests with a gentle kiss. He nearly chuckled as the tension melted off her, Joanna relaxing against his body. It was clear that she’d wound herself up trying to complete all of the day’s tasks for the two busiest soldiers in the army.

“We really shouldn’t. Anyone could walk in.”

“I believe you thoroughly scared them off for the day.” Whispers of the Queen’s foul mood had spread through headquarters since the morning hours.

A pout set on her lips. “It’s appalling that King Lancelot must review reports riddled with spelling and grammar errors.” They all needed a strict lesson in writing etiquette.

Edgar rested his hand under her ear, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “I’ll assist you in completing this paperwork if you’ll agree to eat something.” Skipping meals wouldn’t do well for her health.

She gave a resigned sigh but relented. “Not that I require assistance. I am capable of doing it myself. It will simply go quicker with two.”

“Of course. I never doubted.” A teasing smirk grew on his features only to be replaced by surprise.

Joanna leaned forward, hands gently holding his face as she stole a deep kiss. A silent and unspoken thank you. His persistence did make her quite happy. The moody clouds that had hung above her were gone. Perhaps, she’d reward him after all the work was finished.

[acrobaticcatfeline]

The Legend of Beowulf (Villain!Logan AU) Chapter One!!!

Word Count: 9583

TW: ok so swearing, abuse, torture, violence, Deceit, assassination attempt, homophobia mentioned once, oh heres a big one, XENOPHOBIA! Sort of the premise of the story. If I missed anything LMK

Notes: So. I made this idea in 2018. It was an April fools headcannon. The story board idea has 271 notes. I started writing this days after the idea was posted, and I’ve been drawing the characters just as long. I haven’t looked at this story since November. I’ve spent the last three hours editing it, which is new, I rarely edit more than for spelling and grammar. But here it is my friends. the original headcannon post is here if you want to read it! I hope you enjoy!

Pairings: You’ll figure it out.

Summary: “They lied. Of course, they lied.” Logan Beowulf was a villain. A criminal, despicable. He had released other criminals onto the streets, he had kidnapped the prince, but was that the whole story? Or perhaps is the truth buried under curses and banishment's and fear? Truth be told, he was the aftermath of a scared child in a world where he was alone. He just wanted to fit in, and he found out the hard way that wasn’t possible.

They lied. Of course, they lied. The king and queen, they are despicable, they don’t care what they do to me. I brought back their son whom they don’t deserve at all. I guess this is what it’s like to be the villain in the storybooks. Only these rulers don’t know the meaning of mercy. They aren’t noble and good, they are cruel and uncaring. Why would they though? To them I’ve always been the dangerous powerless Logan Rainier. But I’ve grown. They turned my parents into monsters who threw me away at the drop of a hat, they turned my one friend into an unfeeling fiend in their army, and they turned me into Logan Beowulf.

-

I was 10 when they banished me. Of course I knew it was coming, I was well aware that the thought of technology horrified the royals, but when you live in a world of magic and happiness and you have neither of those requirements, its likely for you to find entertainment elsewhere. I made gadgets. Little gears assembled just so that the little figure would walk. A pulley system and clamp to grab a snack from the top shelf. Such simple things shook the king with fear. They visited my house one morning as I had expected. The king surveyed me as if I was some new creature never seen before. When he was done I was sent to my room which was my que.

I grabbed all of my contraptions and all the pieces I used to create, my closet and bedding, which I had made to collapse into a small box, my secret stash of a month’s rations, a first aid kit, and plenty of paper and drawing utensils. I managed to fit all of it into my backpack and put on my favorite jacket and hat as well as some gloves. My friend, before he joined the king’s army, told me that when I turned 10 the king would come to send me away. I had been preparing for this day and I knew that I would have to say goodbye to my home, but I didn’t belong here.

               -

A decade ago today was when that all happened. Now my 20th birthday surprise was to be beheaded by that same ruthless man, I had fallen into his trap, he had said surrender did he have no honor, At least that’s what I thought. The king routinely came down to torture me into submission. He burnt and shocked and stabbed me to get me to tell him where my home was. He used my parents as ammunition. He used my old friend who had been the one to apprehend me. He couldn’t do it, I haven’t cared for a living thing in this country in a decade. He wants my anti-magic gadgets to work again. The ones I had sold to apprehend villains, the ones I had shut down shortly before being caught. He wants my technology that he’s been shunning since I was born, and I won’t give it to him.

After a good month has passed, the prince came to see me. That young prince, only 15, who I had kidnapped. The young prince who I never touched. The young prince, the fine piece of china that I dare not break lest I become like his father. The young prince, Roman in name, whom I fell in love with. It was despicable of me, he's but a child, but he's the only person to listen to me and understand me for several years, twas near the only choice and still yet I would die by his hand. Such a pity one so young would be brought to bloodshed. Alas he would achieve all his dreams through it, and I dare not stop him.

“ah, I see the king finally stepped up his game. What are you here for boy? Are you the one here to finally kill me? I hope so, I can’t stand being stuck here any longer. How shall you do it boy? Shall you stab me through the heart like a valiant? Or shall you burn me to death? Oh, so many options for you, young prince. You’ll be viewed a hero just as you’ve always yearned no matter how you do it, I suppose. Oh, how I love suspense in a good story! You’ll finally vanquish your very own villain Roman, aren’t you excited?!” I say in complete sincerity. This kid deserves to be a hero. I look at him awaiting his answer.

“Lo-I mean, mutant, that is not your designated fate,” I gawk at him. “you are to become the personal servant to the king.” I pull against my restraints for the first time since I was placed here.

“wait, what?! No no no, I can’t be a servant! This must be a mistake!!! Roman I should be dying today! Since when has the king ever given mercy?! No, this is not mercy, this is a fate worse than death!!! Roman you can’t let this happen, being kept alive in this castle means pain and bloodshed! They’ll torture me til the day I die!!! I’ve been evil but I don’t deserve this!!! Please Roman, please just kill me!!! You’ll be the hero! The one you’ve dreamt of! You’ll save your father from the dissent of his decision! I swear to you this palace, this kingdom will be better off with me dead!!!” I scream. I can feel my voice break in fear and pain that I had been subduing. I can’t live my life a slave to the cruel king. Roman is fair and just! He must see reason! He knows this is a heinous punishment!

“I cannot do that Loga-mutant. All punishments fall in the king’s power. He wants you to be dressed and brought to him, which is my job,” he releases my bonds and hands me soft clothes, likely cotton. He also sets a bucket of water with soap and a rag next to me. “Here m’lord, please get washed up and changed, if you require any assistance, I shall be right over here.”

I weep for a good couple of minutes as I rub off the dirt and sweat that had accumulated on my skin, much of it having been absorbed into open wounds, I'm surprised I've lasted this long, before stepping into the soft outfit which turned out to be rather simply some under garments, black pants, and a long blue and black tunic. As I stand I stumble, my legs refusing to remember their use. The prince rounds the corner once again and offers his hand. I steady myself on my own before gesturing for him to lead me to our destination.

Before long we make it to the throne room where I’m told to bow. Although I have lost, I will never bow to this beast voluntarily. Of course, one of the guards ends up forcing me down.

“you are an invaluable addition to my guard Virgil; I hope you know that you are to become the head guard when our old friend dies.” I shudder when I realize that my childhood friend is to be in charge of the guard of such an awful king. I hear Virge grunt in assent to the king’s proclamation.

“mutant boy do you know why you have been summoned?” the king speaks to me at last. I nod with a grimace on my face.

“well of course your majesty, unlike you, your son is competent. I have been summoned to serve a punishment greater than death due to your absolute contempt of me. Also, might I add that I am to be 20 today, and not only is your second birthday surprise far worse than your first, but that also makes me most definitely not a boy, but a man.” I hiss out all in one breath. The look on the king’s face is disgusted and appalled and I smirk in response.

“you should be grateful that I spared you mutant. You shall not speak to your king this way.” I smirk even more.

“I apologize, I’m just saying that it would be a far better present to be killed by your son. To both of us I’m sure, Roman seems to want that seat of yours more than life itself, if he became a hero for killing me? That would make his year. Oh, your boy is not deserved by you. No one in this vile kingdom deserves the right to even know your son. I do hope you don’t do to him as you forced my parents to do to me. He is a gift. And you are not my king.” The hall goes silent. Roman straightens up and puts up a façade. The king and queen do the same. Not a sound is made, even the birds outside took the hint.

“how dare thee. How dare you think you know anything about my son.” I smile genuinely.

“oh, I dunno, maybe he feels the same about you as I do. Maybe he told me his aspirations of being seen as a hero. Or his hope that he will one day impress you. Maybe he told me he’s scared of being alone and that’s why he never complains when in company. Maybe he told me that he wanted to make your kingdom a better place. Or how you mentally abuse him because you believe that you must not have empathy or emotions as a ruler. Maybe he told me how you are trying to turn him as sociopathic as you and your wife are. Or maybe, just maybe, I’m really good at storytelling. I don’t know your son, but I know that a boy as quiet and reserved as yours must have something to say. I didn’t hurt your son your majesty. I didn’t try to in the slightest. Your son is someone your kingdom needs, and I can’t wait til you die, and your people finally see it.” I say before ducking to keep from getting hit over the head by the husk of a boy I knew.

“you do not speak that way in the royal presence. Didn’t you learn anything in schooling?” Virgil speaks harsh and robotic. I clench my jaw before hissing my response.

“you know, I didn’t get that much time to learn that because, as you might recall Virge, I only had 5 years of it before getting banished. I’m sorry my schooling didn’t prepare me to have to face the three people in my life getting brainwashed by the king.” The king stands up abruptly.

“VIRGIL!!! Take the mutant to his quarters. I want him out of my sight for the moment being. Teach him some manners while you’re at it. I will send your prince to retrieve him when needed. You are dismissed.”

-

4 and a half years. 4 and a half years of this eternal prison and I near died by the king’s hand at least 1000 times. Makes sense, I’m not the most loyal of subjects, and I’m not easily brainwashed into it. while living there I meet Patton, a very nice person, untainted by the king’s evil, and somehow has kept himself from tainting the king’s meals. He is the head chef and ends up sneaking me food most days. However, the king has started to weaken, it looks as if he’ll die before the year ends, leaving our young prince at 19 years old is looking for a suitor, and those he enjoys his father hates, and those his father enjoys he hates. The past half year is the most I’ve ever heard the boy talk. The last time he spoke this much was when I had kidnapped him. the boy is a chatter box when not in the company of others. I assume his father had instilled the proverb, children are to be seen not heard, into him. The prince is seen more as a trophy than as a person by most everyone. I’ve fallen into routine of serving the king his meals, getting lashed for most anything, going and being magicked back to health, rinse and repeat with varying severity.

Then my simple routine is disrupted.

Roman comes to my quarters in the morning per usual but has a different outfit for me to put on than he’s ever brought me before. “hurry and change, we’re uh, the king is waiting for thee,” he stated hurriedly and unsure.

As I change I realize just how odd my outfit is. I’m given tight, form fitting, black leggings, a short black tunic with golden accents, black tied shoes, and a large black cloak big enough to hide me and more. If the all black wasn’t suspicious enough, who in their right mind would give a tunic lined with gold to a simple slave? I open the door to head to the king, when Roman pushes in and shuts the door behind him.

“your highness, what are you doing? I must get to thy king post haste lest I get lashed!” I speak in a formal tone as I’ve been instructed to do with members of the royal family, even as I start getting frantic, the king gets testy when I get there late. He starts messing with my goggles that I made to improve my eyesight before shaking his head.

“I’ll cover for you. I want to, er, try something, can I take these off of you for a second? I have an idea,” He looks down into my eyes, as he has grown much taller than me in years past. I nod slightly, as he is one of the few I trust enough to be willing to be blind around him. he pulls them off and I barely see the magic flying from his hands before I have something else laying on my face and am able to see once more. “hey! Now you look like a noble! Nice glasses you got there Bubbles! Okay um, pack up your essentials in this, ok?” I flinch at the nickname he gave me years ago due to the shape of my seeing apparatus. I also look at him incredulously when he makes his request, but I learned long ago not to deny direct orders, so I pack my few belongings in the small bag. Once I do this he smiles and starts messing with my hair, which I find very relaxing. In a few moments he smiles again at his work before lifting my hood, picking up the bag and then grabbing my hand and dragging me.

“what are you doing your highness? The throne room is the opposite way,” I am confused, what is he doing? “and I really don’t see the point of the bag.”

He smiles and turns to me with a finger on his lips. “hush friend! We’re going on an adventure in the garden! We need supplies to fight the sorceress!” he winks at me and I get more confused.

We do end up in the garden, but at the very edge, in the direction of my old lair. He shoves the bag into my hands and gives me a small notebook and a few bright flowers, an azalea, a white chrysanthemum, and a daffodil. I used to know the language of flowers, but I no longer do and am concerned of the meanings. He gestures out of the garden.

“Logan Beowulf, the mutant who has been held captive in the castle for 4 years and then some, you are being released. My father will hurt and torture you no longer. You are not meant to be chained here. Go home. Live,” he pauses as my horse that I rode in on 4 and a half years ago comes running and guards are chasing it. He casts a spell on me, turning me invisible, and points toward her. He uses his other hand to trip all the guards. “and run for your life.”

And with that I’m gone.

I make it home and it has decayed a bit from age, but is otherwise in perfect condition. My mystics and fae come to me as soon as I ride in, flitting all around me surveying my damage, as I pull out one of my healing potions and chug it. I set down my bag and close my door. I start checking all my gadgets, seeing how they lasted the test of time. A small fae settles on my head and I realize it’s my little Deceit. They were trained to attack humans who sought to hurt them, but after proving my equal disdain, I became very close to the runt of my faes. The little thing starts whispering plots of revenge in fae’lan into my ears. I shoo them away, and continue checking on my creations. My favorite, the one I used to send fear into the city, was the only damaged one I found. The broadcast screen was warped and the wires had frayed. Oh well, I don’t need it anymore I guess. I go and check on all my faelings to make sure they hadn’t hurt themselves while I was away. A few of them had cuts and bruises while some had small tears in their wings, and I set to work to patch them all up. D has the most wounds and I shake my head at them. They are a unique faeling, they have bright yellow feathered wings, and a snake birthmark that crisscrosses their entire small frame. They hadn’t preened themselves in a very long while, causing many of their feathers to fall out in lumps. They also had bruises and scars all over.

“you know D, I know I was gone for a while, but that doesn’t mean you should neglect your well-being… listen bud, I’m fine, they were never planning on killing me. The king is a tool yes, but I don’t plan on going back there any time soon… oh yeah, Roman gave it to me for some reason… no you can’t. You don’t even know how to read fae’lan, how do you know English?” the fae keeps whispering to me. After I finish mending them I look at the little note book given to me, reading through it a few times before its message becomes clear. My face reddens. What are these notes supposed to mean? They seem to insinuate… actually no, it doesn’t matter. I close the book harshly before going to check on the stash of food which is likely completely expired. Surprisingly it seems that my fae have been emptying and restocking it regularly and I pull out the fix ins to make a ham and egg salad. I smile at the warmth of my home. I’ve missed it so much.

-

My birthday. 25 today, isn’t that swell? I keep dreading the possibility of the king walking through my door and dragging me away. My faelings woke me up with a shower of pixie dust. When I get up and changed I see that there is a specific outfit that D has chosen for me. It’s a dark blue doublet, with poufy black pants and the cloak I wore when I made my way back home 6 months ago. I put on my black slip on flats and my glasses. When I walk out into the living room I see a large meal laid out for me, my favorite meal which I rarely get to have, cheese steak sandwiches with a heaping side of potatoes and brown sugar carrots. I swear, these little guys have enough magic to summon me a castle to rival the king’s palace.

I sit down to eat and I almost finish before hearing a knock on the door. I rise slowly queuing the others to stay silent. I grab my sword and raise it as I open the door. It’s the prince. It’s the prince oh fuck it’s the prince. I drop my sword in shock. He looks down at me and smiles. Oop, and on my knees I go! I see D try to attack him, and hiss at him in fae’lan that the prince is a welcome guest.

“hello m’lord Beowulf, happy birthday! Might I enter your home? I have none to accompany me this fine day.” He says with the same bright smile. He’s only gotten taller and more regal. I push myself up to my feet, and sheathe my sword before inviting him in.

“might I inquire as to what your purpose of visitation is? Oh yes, and help yourself to anything, what is mine is yours your highness.” He shakes his head as he grabs a bun.

“m’lord, I am to step up as king this time next week. And though I have many a quest on my plate, my father has passed and my mother wishes to meet with you. It appears you were in fact correct about a sort of brainwashing attached to him. Your friend Virgil wishes to apologize for his odd behavior. It seems everyone who lived in the castle was under some sort of influence other than the chef and you. My father was not a great person, and an even worse ruler. I hope to be a better king. I was hoping you would accompany me to the palace?” he asks, his voice soft like velvet, warm like cider, and light and fluffy like the sky. I frown slightly at his words. I gesture towards D before responding. They straighten in shock.

“you know almost as well as I, that I’d rather die than go back there. However, I will concede if you allow me to bring my loyal faeling Deceit. Without them I must politely refuse, that palace holds nothing but hostility towards me.” I state as calmly as possible. I doubt the boy will allow a mischievous fae into his castle so I’m sure I’m-

“of course, you may m’lord!” what. “fae are always fun to be around!”

Ha. Hahaha, he’s joking. He can’t be serious. No way. I can’t go with him. He’ll kill me.

“of course, your highness. Let us be off?” wait what am I saying? No, no no no! he’s gonna kill me! I barely escaped I can’t go back there!

We walk in silence through the woods towards the palace. D continues to flit around my head whispering about how everything is going to go horribly wrong and I ignore him. I can be gracious. I can die an elegant death. Heh, maybe D will get my revenge before they get killed as well. I’ll tell them to get the queen first, they can probably get one of them before getting caught. I wonder if they still let us have a choice for the last meal? I wonder what I would choose? Probably something simple that my mom used to make me… or maybe that last meal I had with my best friend… I don’t know, but all of a sudden me and the soon-to-be king Roman stop in front of her majesty. I kneel for the first time voluntarily. I bow my head and stand up once she bids me do so.

“m’lord Beowulf, it has come to pass that my husband has left us. It seems as if your accusation of him having brainwashed his people was based partially in fact. On his death bed he confessed that his family had been doomed to curse those around them with an emotionless harshness and that only one who was able to see past it would be able to break the curse. We have since found that that person was you, and I thank you for breaking it” she smiles at me and I tilt my head in confusion but nod. “now the real reason you were brought here is far more pressing. Roman, darling son, might you express your request?”

The prince nods and I can’t help but notice the light red tinting of his cheeks. “yes mother. M’lord Beowulf-” I interrupt quickly.

“you may call me Logan your highness.” I state as calmly as possible. He smiles brightly at me.

“of course. Logan, as I am stepping up here shortly, my mother has requested me find a suitor who will share the throne with me. I haven’t really gotten out much in my youth,” I scoff a bit at his word choice, he is still very much in his youth. “and I haven’t found any royalty or common folk who have peaked my interest. That is, other than you.” Oh. Wait what? He, he can’t be, can he? He’s a prince of a magical kingdom and he wants the one person in the world without magic to be his suitor? I feel my face heat up and hear him laugh a bit.

“of course, you aren’t required by any means. However, we wanted to give you some time to dwell on your decision. We request you stay at the palace for a few nights, to see how you feel. In the meantime, I believe you have someone else who wishes to see you,” the queen nods and I here rapid steps behind me. I turn around just in time to stabilize myself for the impact of a running knight.

“well hello there Virgil, gosh, did you finally grow some muscle on those bones or is that all the armor?” I say jokingly as I feel the warmth of Virgil against my neck. I hug him back before he pulls back with a watery smile.

“at least I grew since the last time I really saw you. God you’re just as short as you were all those years ago. Come with me, we must talk about things, and not bother his highness and her majesty!” he grabs my hand and I barely have time to bid the royals farewell before I was being dragged away.

“slow down virge! I’m gonna scrape the floors at this pace!” I laugh slightly as he stops dead and gives me another hug.

“I’m so sorry lo. I don’t know what I was doing. I didn’t believe you when you said he was bad news, and I hurt you multiple times. I can’t believe I actually did those awful things to you. I am so sorry.” I hug him tightly to reassure him.

“I promise you that I don’t hold any of that against you. You weren’t really in control of yourself. Besides, look at where you are now! You’re a knight in the king’s elite 5! You have everything you’ve ever wished for now V. So what if you frayed a few bridges along the way? You’re happy, and that’s all that matters.” I smile up at him and he rolls his eyes.

“first off, you have the better gig by far dude. Secondly, I never wanted to lose my best friend. If I had known that I wouldn’t have signed up.” He smirks at me.

“I don’t know what you mean by gig-” he interrupts.

“you were just proposed to by the soon to be king. You’ll be set for life!” he smiles and starts walking again, pulling me along.

“I don’t know V, I don’t think the best way to fall in love is to get kidnapped by some nerd in a forest. What if he’s playing me? Trying to get his revenge on me?” we turn a corner and we end up in the kitchen.

“you got him away from his father’s influence for the first time in his life. You showed him what life can really be. I’ll tell you something Lo, that kid hasn’t shut his gob since the day the king died. And 75% of it has been about you. And that’s before I put in a good word for you.” My jaw drops and my eyes widen.

“a good word? What do you mean a good word? What did you tell him?” I panic, Virgil has more dirt on me than anyone else.

“oh, just how sweet and kind you are, how you always know when somethings wrong and know exactly what to do to help, how you have super big hands-” I slap him and gasp.

“you did not say that to the prince!!!” I look at him alarmed.

“I most certainly did. You can shower me in your thanks after we see Patton, Remy, and Thomas, I know Patton loves you and Rem and Tommy have been itching to meet you ever since the curse wore off. Patton seems to be the only one other than you who didn’t get turned into a total dick under the curse. Legit he’s fricken pure.” We weave through the kitchen until we see Patton and two more guys who look identical to each other. Virgil clears his throat as to not scare the three men with butchers’ knives. The three immediately turn towards us and smile.

“Logan!! I didn’t think his highness was actually going to- is that a fairy?!?!” Patton squeals and grabs D and starts cooing over them. “who is this little guy?!”

“uh, pal, they like the term pal, not in the binary. Their name translates to Deceit in common. I usually call them D though. Also, they usually prefer fae or faeling over fairy.” I see D struggling to free themselves and chuckle a bit. Patton’s eyes widen and he starts apologizing profusely.

“oh gosh!!! I’m so sorry pal! I didn’t know I’m so so sorry! Deceit huh? Why’re they called that? Does it mean the same in their language as it does in ours?” he blabbers out while examining the small fae who wants to bite him.

“it’s no problem, they are very feisty and angry when overwhelmed, often attacking and sometimes killing humans they see as a threat through false promises. It isn’t exactly the same, but similar. Also, D! Stop trying to bite him! He’s nice I promise.” Patton nods with a smile while D sits “pretty” with a more neutral face than before. I swear the thing is part dog, it’s ridiculous. Eventually they stop being nervous and start to revel in the soft pets they are given by Pat.

“so, this is the infamous Logan Rainier? He’s so tiny! I would have expected such a feared criminal to be a bit taller. I bet he didn’t sleep well as a kid, sleep helps you grow!” one of the twins says. I twitch a bit at the old name.

“Logan Beowulf if you’d please, that name and family has dead for a decade and a half. Speaking of that family, do you know if they are still alive Virgil?” V and the twins look to each other before looking at me with pity.

“I’m afraid they were executed soon after you kidnapped the prince. I am so sorry Logan.” I shrug.

“oh well. They might as well have been dead to me anyways. Even a curse doesn’t take control that easily. They shunned me out of petty fear. They were always scared of me. I just wish I had been able to say goodbye” I turn to the twins. “so, which one of you is which? Thomas and Remy, I assume?” I gesture at them. They nod. Remy slides down his sunglasses, he’s the one who was talking about me earlier.

“yuperoo, sorry for misnaming ya bro. Remy, the older brother. Nice ta finally meetcha.” He holds out his hand and I shake it.

“you are literally one minute older than me, why do you do this?! Hmph, I’m Thomas, the more responsible brother” He sends a look to Remy who returns it with a smile. “so, how’s it feel to be the object of devotion of the soon-to-be king?”

I blush brightly I’m certain. “I-I don’t know, I feel like we should get to know each other before just getting married. All I know about him is all the shitty things his father did to him.” as I finish I see a moment of understanding in all four of them.

“wait, all of that in the court back then, that was all real?!?” I nod slowly.

“honestly, it is pretty obvious when you pay enough attention. The prince, he would never stop talking when I had taken him away. Not for a second. I think he was word dumping so someone knew of the problem. It was as if a metaphorical zipper was pulled open for the first time in his life. Some of it he specifically told me, like him wanting to be a hero, some I guessed, like him being mentally abused. Did he truly never leave the palace? Not even for schooling?” they all look to one another and nod.

“he was taught by his parents, and sometimes a tutor usually being myself or Patton. The king didn’t trust people talking to him for the most part. Scared rumors would spread to him, was what he always said. In hindsight it was pretty obvious. He rarely spoke back then. I think usually he would ask for something small and thank people and that was pretty much it.” Thomas said resigned.

Suddenly I heard a booming voice sounding like none other than the prince himself. “attention staff, not only do we have a guest of great honor for the next week, but remember that tonight is the royal gala. I have taken note of the ill-preparedness of the ballroom and implore thee all to get it ready soon, for guests shall be arriving in approximately 3 hours. In other words, hop to it! Thank you all, remember that you are all very much allowed to join the festivities, as it would be awful for those who put it together to not be able to join! Also please send head guard Virgil and our guest of honor to my quarters, I have some business with them.” I look at Virgil who smiles.

“gala?! I was not told of this!!! What kind of malarkey is this?! D, stay with Patton, Vir-wait let go of me!!!” I’m being dragged back.

“come on Beowulf.”

We get to the prince’s chambers and we see he has outfits floating around the room. As soon as I step in, one of the outfits flies in front of me and Roman starts examining me and it. he snaps his fingers and the outfit flies into the closet.

“um, your highness, what exactly are you doing? I’m con-” and another outfit flies in front of me.

“it’s simple Logan, I’m finding a proper outfit for you to don this evening! As well as Virgil, because he is a dear friend and confidant of mine, and I’m not letting him wear his armor to the ball, and I know for a fact that that is his only semblance of fancy attire. I really need to get you more proper attire my dear sir knight.” He smirks and goes through outfit after outfit for the both of us.

Eventually he finds us satisfying attire. I get adorned with a black tailcoat with royal blue trim, matching dress pants, a royal blue shirt, black boots, and a blue messenger cap with black, blue, and peacock feathers. Virgil ends up with a purple hooded, double breasted trench coat with black accents and covered in awards and medals, with matching slacks, a maroon long sleeved collared shirt, and black, knee high, heeled wrap boots. He also combs back his hair and is told to grab a favor from someone. When his highness steps in front of me once again, I feel my face darken as his glance seems to be inspecting the entirety of my soul. He smiles and conjures a bright red carnation. He tucks it in my breast pocket before sweeping my hair to the right and conjures a white carnation tucking it behind my ear. He steps away quickly and looks at us both with a proud look.

“you both look lovely. It seems I took a bit longer for you two than I planned, it’s been two hours, which leaves me one to figure myself out! Heheh! If you would, could you go check on the preparations in the kitchen and ballroom for me?” we both nod and hurry out being careful with our new outfits.

“our young prince is quite generous is he not?” Virgil says on the way.

“yes. He is quite… over the top however. Why do I have two different flowers on me? What do they mean?” Virgil snickers.

“oh, have you forgotten your second language? The boy is not subtle. The one easiest to see is the white carnation, symbol for purity and luck, while the red means love and affection. The young prince is also the only one who gives flowers as favors, so everyone will know not to mess with you. Did I mention he’s a bit possessive?” my face only reddens more.

We head to the kitchen and see the three from earlier doing even more work faster than before. Even D is flitting around and helping. Virgil clears his throat and the three look at us for a second before going back to work.

“sorry V, too much to do right now, we only have an hour left to get all this ready.” Patton said tiredly.

“don’t you three need to get ready? Can we help?” Patton looks at us again and nods slightly.

“we can’t have you doing it manually since you’re already dressed up, so Logan probably shouldn’t, but you have stronger magic than the three of us combined so sure!” I frown and pull one of my cooking inventions out of my invention band and toss the toy back and forth before activating it and helping, to the shock of Patton, Remy, and Thomas. In a few minutes we have everything done, and the three are thanking us.

“now you three really should go change, stained baking clothes aren’t exactly gala outfits.” Patton shakes his head.

“oh no, we aren’t attending, someone has to tend to the kitchen while the rest of the staff is having fun! His highness can’t leave everything without staff, the kitchen doesn’t run on its own. But thank you two for the help, it will make the rest of tonight much easier!!” Patton, Remy, and Thomas all smile at us.

“uhhhh, yeah no that’s not happening bud. I will keep this kitchen running bare handed if I have to if it means you three get out there and have a fun night. No ands ifs or buts, you are getting changed right now, and you are going to attend the gala if I have to drag you all by the ears.” Patton argues with him of course.

“Virgil, while that’s a sweet sentiment, it’s not happening. I am in charge of this kitchen, and I’m not leaving it unattended when there is work to be done. And I am stronger than you, you can’t make me leave with you.” He looks sternly down at Virgil with crossed arms.

“hm, true but you know who you will listen to, and is also stronger than you? The prince.” Patton’s eyes widen and the other two gasp.

“you wouldn’t dare. Besides, what reason does he have to care?” he smirks slyly.

“listen, I might have a little sway in the prince’s good book, as well as him having specifically requesting all staff join the gala. You don’t want to disregard a direct order, do you?” Patton’s arms drop and he struggles to respond.

“l-listen, he’s just barely an adult! He’s never worked in a kitchen! He’s trying to be nice, but if his father was ever right about anything, it would be keeping the kitchen staff in the kitchen at all times, the kitchen needs us to stay here, without us who will make more food if we run out? I’ve been working in kitchens since I was five, I might know a thing or two more than him about this! Just- please don’t tell him! It’s for his own good! He won’t even notice! To him this kitchen can run on its own, but you and I both know better!” he’s pleading with him now. Virgil shakes his head.

“you are attending the gala. If there’s a problem his highness can take it up with me. Go change Patton baker. You too sanders twins.” The three sigh and go to change. I look at Virgil once they’ve gone out of earshot.

“you have quite a high status here huh?” I ask him as we walk to check the ballroom.

“meh, his highness likes me I guess? Most of the other guards are assholes, so I guess I’m a nice change. I also have a hefty amount of magic, reason I got knighted so soon. My weapon usage is fantastic, and my magic is OP. People think I had more magic than the king himself, I know for a fact that the prince is better than I am however.” He smiles at me and looks around to see staff members assembling the last arrangements for the ball.

“how do you know that?” I ask curiously.

“he saved you. Once within the king’s radius there was no reversing the affect done to you. He overrode it, it may have only been for an hour, but it was something, and he saved you. If I didn’t already swear my life to him on oath, I would have owed him my life for that alone” He grins at me brightly. “if he wants to be a hero, he’s got another thing coming, cuz he’s one already. I can’t wait to see him grow as a ruler.” Virgil smiled and squeezed my hand, I squeeze back and smile as well. I missed him so much, I’m glad he’s back as himself again.

“neither can I. I hope to be able to move back into the city. I missed it here,” D pulls my hair a bit. “hey, hey cut it out! I like it in the woods too, I just also like speaking to humans ok? Humans don’t live to prank anything that moves. Hey! That hurts!!!” I shoo him off of my head and glare at him.

He starts whispering to me. I shake my head. “listen D, if they are willing to accept me sitting on a throne, I’m sure they’ll be fine with magic creatures roaming around the gardens. I have no doubt. And if I decide not to stay here I will find a place to stay that can host all my faelings anyway” I pat his head and he pretends to bite my finger before sitting back on my head. “you have to behave tonight, if people think I have an unruly fae they will judge the prince and I don’t need that weight on my shoulders.”

Virgil chuckles. “too late for judgement lo. His highness has already been met with much backlash due to his choice of suitors.” I look at him once again.

“who were his original choices?” I ask. Why did I get chosen?

“oh no, don’t get me wrong you were always his choice, he however, made proposals to both myself and Patton out of fear of the backlash of choosing you. But, as me and Pat are already Romantically involved, it wouldn’t have worked out anyways. Besides, like I said, it was always you. He’s the prince it doesn’t matter who he chooses so long as he’s happy. If anyone has a problem with that I will kill them” he laughs when he sees my shocked face. “listen it’s my job. And he’s a good friend, you should know that I’d take a bullet for either of you two. The three cooks too, though I don’t think anyone wants to kill them at this point, considering how hidden they are from the public eye, not to mention how innocent and sweet they are.” Virgil smiles wistfully.

We wander through the ballroom and after a few minutes the three chefs show up all fancied up. The twins are matching in black and red Versailles coats, black slacks, and black flats. Patton is cleaned up very nicely. He is wearing a vest? It’s a white and blue half vest with one long sleeve of light blue color with a thin light blue sash draped around his midriff that is otherwise bare, poufy pants that match his sleeve and a belt matching his vest. His hair covers half his face and I notice that the sides of his head are shaved and also a light blue. He is wearing tan sandals as well. They all look amazing, I’m glad Virgil convinced them to attend. Patton walks up to Virgil and gives him a kiss and I giggle at Virgil’s surprised expression. I only laugh louder when Virgil flips Patton into a dip and Patton squeals.

Some girl passes by us and smiles at us, and Thomas shoves Remy towards her and the two wander off together with the girl hanging off of Rems arm. Thomas smirks at him and starts talking to me.

“finally, he goes and talks with her! He’s been on and on about her for months, and she’s been just as head over heels. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to get me the cute butler! See ya later Beowulf!” and off he goes in the opposite direction than his brother. Patton and Virgil are just talking as the doors fly open and trumpets sound.

“attention all!!! The guests are to be arriving any minute and I request all to be on their best behavior. The festivities shall commence now!!!” the prince heralds to the large room. His mother is by his side and he bows to her before heading up to the mezzanine and looking over the guests. I get a good look at his outfit now. He is wearing a red, white, and gold crop top with angel sleeves and a red sash around his waist, white knee length leggings with a red mid-thigh length skirt, golden knee-high boots, and pure white gloves. He has his golden hair curled so it falls in his face like a waterfall. I get nudged by a smirking Virgil.

“you really do like him, don’t you? You two would be so cute together heheh!” I blush and shush him.

“I was just-hey shut it! I was just admiring his outfit. He looks nice! That’s all! Shhhhush you!!!” Virgil doesn’t stop laughing at me until guests start filing in. His expression sours before he puts his hand on his waist and does something magic. As soon as it left he had a grin back on his face. He steps slightly in front of me and Patton and I notice his smile doesn’t reach his eyes and I’m suddenly stricken with fear.

“well hello there lord Matthew, I thought you were taken off the guest list after the last ball? Don’t you have other parties to crash and reputations to tarnish?” he manages to hiss out with a plastic smile.

“oh, old Richard invited me! I couldn’t turn down the chance to meet the prince’s suitor!!! Why isn’t that him right there? The little criminal? I’m sure his highness will break from his spell soon! What a wicked spell, lasting 5 whole years!” I growl lowly at him.

“yes surely, the one person in the country who doesn’t have magic put a spell on him. yeah that’s reasonable.” I mutter angrily.

“listen Mattie, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave at once. I will not ask twice.” Virgil’s smile drops and he take another step forward.

“how dare you. I have every right to be here. Besides, you’re unarmed, what can you do?” the man tests Virgil. V pulls out a dagger from his waist. He looks over at me and gestures toward the prince.

“you two, please go see the prince. I’m sure he’ll want to know of this.” With that I grab Patton’s hand and run up to Roman. When he sees us, he smiles until he realizes something is wrong.

“what is the matter? No, you can stop running, what’s wrong?” Patton rushes to speak.

“well-uh, so uh, lord Matthew is here, and refused to leave, and Virgil just pulled a knife on him, and he said you needed to know-” before Patton completely finishes Roman is walking down to where Virgil is. Of course, walking, he isn’t scared, he’s calm and in control. We both follow behind at a safe distance.

“lord Matthew! So kind of you to show! I’m sure lord Richard invited you? Virgil please unarm yourself, there shall be no need for violence.” He walks towards them with a sort of swagger in his step. The man sneers.

“I wouldn’t miss meeting your suitor for the world my princess. Yes, lord Richard did invite me! How did you know?!” there was a twitch felt through the room at the use of the term princess. Virgil nearly jumped him there and then, but Roman gave him a stern look.

“oh, it was just a guess! The only other person to get thrown out of a ball other than you! Listen dear lord, my dearest lord, I must ask you to leave, I don’t stand for the harassment of my guardsmen. Virgil would you-” Matthew laughs, interrupting the prince.

“oh no, if anyone hear is leaving, it will be you! We can’t have a gay man as our king! Let alone have a villain upon our throne! No, I shall be taking that throne tonight.” He summons a sword and points it at the prince. I feel myself moving before I fully realize what I’m doing. I pull out my collapsible sword and wrap it around his neck.

“I think you might want to rethink that. Another move and you’re dead, trust me I have no qualms, as you said I’m a villain.” The man drops his sword and falls to his knees. I pull my cuffs out of my storage band and cuff him before putting the sword away. I look up to see all eyes trained on me and my wrist. Someone jumps out and grabs my wrist and pulls on it, causing me to groan in pain.

“what is this?! This is dangerous! Why do you have this?!” I groan again before pulling my arm free.

“It’s connected to my arm. I made it a few years ago, it holds my inventions. It’s no more dangerous than magic swords appearing out of thin air. Also please refrain from touching me.” I glare in the random persons direction. They glare back.

“well you’ll have to take it off. No weapons are allowed in the palace!” I scoff and turn fully towards him.

“listen, first, priorities, you should get some, second, it’s much easier to notice me pulling from my wrist, I’d have another weapon at my neck before I’d be able to do anything, third, what do you think this guy just did?! You should be thanking me not harassing me, fourth, there is no way to detach it. I made it that way, and fifth, I only have like, four weapons in here, the rest is far more important. If you have a problem, you can figure out how to get it off yourself” He looks at the prince likely trying to get sympathy and backing down when he sees he has none. I turn towards Roman once again and bow. “your highness, I apologize for breaking one of your rules, however, my mind went into panic mode. I hope you can forgive me.” He tells me to stand and smiles.

“you have been forgiven, if you were not I would be petty. However, I will have to take a look at that band later. Virgil might you escort lord Matthew into the dungeon? Thank you! Now everyone, please do continue to enjoy the festivities!!! No need to worry, the situation is being handled. Might I speak to you Logan?” as Virgil walks off with the man, and Patton goes over to the twins who had grouped together again, I nod. Nothing better to do I guess.

“of course, your highness. Please lead the way” We head back upstairs and sit down on a bench and start talking about random things before I bring up the topic we were both avoiding. “so, uh, was this the first time something like that was pulled?” I ask quietly and I’m met with a sigh as he leans back on his hands.

“no. most definitely not. I’ve had countless since I came out to the people. for the most part people are accepting, however, there are a handful who aren’t. First one to be at such a big event though. Usually assassins. It’s weird, my father never had anyone attempt to kill him, I guess it must have been his curse at work. There were a few who tried to kill me when I was younger as well, but Virgil hasn’t failed to protect me since he started out here. I honestly wish I had friends like him when I was younger.” He rambles and I frown slightly.

“I’m sorry Roman. You are by far a better person than your father. I want to protect you… and um, I uh, I didn’t need a week to find my answer by the way. I mean, you can still take it back! There are far more men who would be better! And uh, you don’t have to choose me, I don’t deserve to be happy with you, I kidnapped you for god sake! You really-” he interrupts me by just smiling. I lose my words somewhere in my throat.

“listen Logan, you are most definitely who I wish to stand by my side. You were not my choice out of convenience, or out of pure lust. You saved me. You saved me from something that was slowly killing me, and it had almost won. Can I confide in you? I was to be dead in a week when you took me. I had plan after plan to die that following week. You saved me that day, and I’m so sorry that it took me as long as it did to return the favor.” I feel my face flush and he giggles.

“I-I don’t know what to say, I had no idea, you had seemed for the most part just happy.” I admit, looking away slightly.

“no one did. I think the only people at the time who would have cared would have been the twins, Patton, Virgil, and my mother. But that’s old news now, irrelevant. Listen, if you do in fact accept my proposal, would you mind if I kissed you?” my face only feels hotter when he asks that. Instead of speaking, because I’m sure my voice will betray me, I nod firmly.

He leans in rather slowly as if giving me a chance to leave if I choose. When our lips finally touch it’s soft and slow and mind-blowing. I feel my pulse quicken and the urge to just lose myself. I realize that all those stories of having to breathe stopping a kiss were completely false. It starts “heating up” I think is the term? And he wraps his arms around my waist and I panic for a second trying to figure out what to do with my arms before setting them on his shoulders. Almost as soon as I had done that he bit my lip. I gasp and am ready to pull away when he... sticks his tongue in my mouth? I don’t-what? I mean it feels fantastic, don’t get me wrong but- oh ok. I have no idea what is happening but it feels amazing I don’t want it to stop? Unfortunately, that’s exactly when he does. He pulls away with a loopy grin and a look in his eyes that is heart stopping. Not literally but-you know what I mean! I am pretty sure at this point my whole face is completely red. I shakily adjust my glasses before looking away shyly. God why am I so timid?! I just want to be normal for once! I notice that the rest of the ballroom is waving slightly. Huh. Interesting.

“I wanted a bit of privacy. It’s an illusionary wall. To everyone else we were just sitting and talking. I’m sure Virgil already knows its fake by now, I’ve used this trick countless times. Do you mind if I touch you?” I feel my heart melt. What did I do to deserve someone like him falling in love with me?

“of course, Roman. I’m only uncomfortable with strangers and those I don’t trust touching me. I um, I also wouldn’t mind um, doing that-that thing we just did? Again. It was quite uh, p-pleasant.” I sound like an idiot he’s going to hate me god why do I do this?

“hey, Bubbles. Calm down that mind of yours,” he rests his palm on my cheek and I subconsciously lean into it. “I can see you thinking up a storm in there. Relax. And I would also love to do that again if you don’t mind.” I nearly dive into the kiss. I cant believe this is happening, am-am I finally getting my happily ever after?

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[kimmiherself]

CHAPTER TWO: THE BEGINNING

It was almost the end of the first half of the school year. Examinations were coming up. Projects piling up. As the editor-in-chief, I still hadn't finished working on our school paper, which was almost due for release. School activities were also lining up, waiting to be planned. To my friends' distaste, I also became the president of our student organization. We all knew I wasn't the best candidate for the position, but I won anyway. My small group of friends at school thought I was kind of immature and way too emotional—definitely a cry-baby—to handle a responsibility as big as that, considering I had to lead the entire high school. Well, I didn't believe I was immature but I had to agree I was a little sensitive, but the points to my grades mattered so much to me that I couldn't care less.

It was barely noon and my morning classes weren't finished yet, but there I was, lying uncomfortably in one of the beds in the school clinic, bothered by both the warm compress the nurse laid over my lower abdomen and the pain it was trying to relieve. I loathed the cramps that came with the monthly visits. When your stomach felt like it was being twisted into knots and being squeezed out of its life, it could do more than dampen one's day. But if I were to look at more tasks left unticked in my notepad, I'd rather embrace the physical pain and thank the heavens for the blessing in disguise. I badly needed the break.

The pain had been coming and going for the last hour but it sure was becoming more and more bearable each passing minute. And I was starting to get bored too. I tried sleeping but it wasn't working at all so I settled with fiddling with the mobile device in my hands. It wasn't the hottest cellphone in the market but it was a gift from my father and was better than most of my classmates'. It had a built-in camera that I barely used. I tried taking photos of myself in private a couple of times but I never learned to like any of them. In fact, I cringed at those horrible selfies. I filled my gallery with girlish wallpapers and cute GIFs instead. It also didn't have an MP3 player like the very high-end ones but it had ringtones of some of my favorite love songs, enough to entertain me.

But that day it seemed like nothing was working for me. I went to check my inbox for unread messages. There was none. I scanned through them and found Matthew's long list of sweet messages that I'd like to read over and over again, along with some inspirational quotes from my friends. One text caught my attention, though. It simply said hello but it lacked the appropriate punctuation mark and the first letter wasn't even capitalized. Coming from an unknown number, it was weird that I hadn't deleted it yet. I knew texts needed not to have proper structure and grammar but I still preferred it that way. Matthew didn't have a problem with that since he was also as particular as me in that department.

I'd barely respond to unknown numbers, especially if their texts looked stupid and offensive to my eyes—grammar-wise, that was why I was so surprised with myself when I typed, "I don't usually talk to strangers, but who are you?" and sent it back to that unknown number.

I really wasn't expecting anything from that number and started sending Matthew some messages next. I missed talking to him. He mostly never responded to my messages and I couldn't even call him. I'd hate to take so much of his time that I hardly ever called and I especially hated it when the calls got rejected. Aside from having a hectic schedule, Matthew needed money and he couldn't always afford to buy prepaid load for his phone. And I understood that. I just really missed him. When I bought him prepaid load one time, it just didn't end well for me. I probably even offended him. So I learned to wait...and wait.

My phone suddenly chimed.

1 new message received flashed on my screen.

I readjusted my back so I could settle comfortably and quickly pressed the ok button, hoping to see Matthew's reply.

It wasn't his.

"Not a stranger, just Raven Maude," I read the text from the unknown number. Scrunching my nose, I typed, "I'll decide on that," and paused, thinking where I heard that name. "Well, I know one Maude. Her name's Cathy." We didn't go to the same high school but Cathy's from my village and everyone around there seemed to just know each other. One of my friends from the village had a crush on her too so whenever we met, she was almost always part of our conversations.

I barely waited when my phone chimed again. Surely, it was from the stranger. It said, "She's actually my little sister. Jeje..."

I cringed at the last part of his text. Emojis weren't a thing yet in 2007 so you really had to spell out your laughs in texts, but I preferred h for haha or hehe over their j counterparts. The latter bothered me a lot. Wait...did he just say she was his sister? "Huh," I puffed out. He just pointed out two things. One, he couldn't be a total stranger when I knew one of his kin. Two, I was a moron thinking I knew everyone in my village.

I tried to picture him out in my head. Although petite, Cathy was pretty good-looking so he couldn't have deviated that far if they were truly siblings. Then I remembered there was one time, a few years ago, some of those kids in the village talked about Cathy's brother, whose name I didn't even care to know, and they giggled as they did so. I was curious for like five seconds and went on with my life. I never even got to see his face. It's weird how we never bumped into each other in the village until now.

"Really? Small world," I started typing my reply. "By the way, where did you get my number?" I asked, not at all amused that someone shared my personal information without my permission.

He said it was Marie, another common friend of ours from the village. "I saw you with her and your other friends in the plaza a few weeks ago. I asked her for your number. I hope you don't mind...with your aversion to strangers and all."

I rolled my eyes but decided to let go of that comment. Indeed, there was a recent community event in the village square and I was invited by Marie and her group to perform one dance with them. I hadn't caught on the steps yet and I was lucky the lights went out and didn't get to perform in the end. It sure would be embarrassing especially now that I learned there was someone behind those throng of expectators whose eyes were on me for at least a moment.

"It's fine. You're only half a stranger after all," I said, without fully meaning it. I looked at his first message once again and realized it had been sitting there on my phone for a few weeks now. I wondered if he thought I was a snob. Not that it mattered. I knew this was just a hi-and-bye encounter, just two people who belonged to the same community nodding at each other's way to acknowledge their existence.

My phone chimed yet again. "Good. Now we're friends."

********************************************

Raven didn't warn me how clingy he was for a friend. We sent each other messages more than friends usually did—at least, more than I texted my friends. We easily got past awkward introductions and dove right into casual conversations that had started to become a routine. Mornings started with greetings and ended with, "Have you had your lunch yet?" Nights were filled with a cannonade of questions about each other and always ended with either a good-night or a sleep-well.

I knew it was unfair of me to compare Matthew with Raven but I couldn't help but wonder how amazing it would be if my boyfriend showed me as much attention as Raven did. I sighed, reminding myself that Matthew was not just a college student but also a part-time employee of a fastfood chain, which implied he had way more important things to do than waste time on his phone. Besides, he asked me to give him time and wait for us to be together; I shouldn't be feeling resentful. But talking to Raven had been a pleasant experience and, though I still missed my boyfriend, my nights had started to become less lonely than they used to be.

By the end of the week, I learned that Raven was a freshman in college in the same city as Matt's. He wanted to become either a civil engineer or a seafarer but, by his mother's persuasion, ended up taking a two-year course in Hotel and Restaurant Management. He said his mother thought his aim was too high. He didn't graduate at the top of his class in high school but he wasn't dumb either. It's a shame he didn't even get to try it out.

I learned that Raven didn't have a favorite color and that was weird. Who didn't have a favorite color? Like even the slightest bias to one or two? Raven just didn't think it mattered. He liked playing the guitar, though. In fact, he just bought one, out of his savings from his school allowance and other sidelines. He didn't mention he worked part-time so I wondered what those were.

Raven also talked about basketball, saying it's that one thing he really was passionate about. I knew nothing about it and thought it was crazy to go home almost every weekend for a game or two. Basketball leagues, according to him, topped the sports activities in our district. Leagues were hosted everywhere and Raven and his team wouldn't dare miss one. He even mentioned he would've been in the seminary already instead of his current school if that one big game didn't fall on the same day as his departure. It appalled me how he could just easily make big decisions and outright change plans just to suit his schedule. It was so not my cup of tea.

"It's funny, you know," Raven said once over the phone.

"What?"

"That you say you've never seen me when we've had several encounters already."

That piqued my curiosity. "Really? I don't recall ever meeting you."

"No, you haven't," he said. "But when you were little—we were little, I used to see you with your uncle all the time in their farm. I'm friends with his nephews, you know."

"Really?" I gasped. I hoped he didn't catch me in those moments when I was stuffing my mouth with so much fruit that I could barely chew them, because the food was all the reason why I stuck around my uncle and their family's farm. But who could resist fruits, right, especially my favorites, Durian and Rambutan?

"And we also used to play basketball in front of your house. There's like a makeshift basketball ring there, if you haven't noticed. Whenever you came home from your school, you would just walk right in front of us—with that gigantic luggage you call your school bag, your head always down, never looking at anyone."

That made me chuckle. "I'm sorry I'm such a snob," I replied, feigning remorse. "I'm just not comfortable walking through a crowd." A crowd of boys, especially. I just tried to be as invisible as I could be. I knew I would just embarrass myself like tripping over or something if I knew someone was looking at me. I just knew it. Yes, I was a dancer and I performed on stage with enough confidence and grace, but as soon as the performance ended, I quickly went back to being shy, awkward, and clumsy.

"It's funny how you squirmed whenever the ball rolled towards your feet," he said with a laugh.

"It's called a reflex, Raven!" I exclaimed, shuddering at the recollection. I didn't have any phobia with balls but I couldn't help but picture my impending demise whenever it came near me, considering my rather inept ability of handling surprises. I just knew that a time would come when I'd finally trip over that evil orb and fall down on my knees, my white skirt uniform flying over my head and showing my bum, and everyone would just laugh at me. I shuddered at the thought. "Everything would be fine as long as the ball and I kept our distance from each other," I whispered to myself.

Raven didn't seem to hear that. "You never noticed how the world would seem to stop whenever you walked past us, do you?"

I snorted, but I felt the heat creep up my cheeks. "Now you're just being silly, Mr. Raven Maude!"

"Seriously, Kier..." My name just sounded a little strange coming from him. But not in a creepy way. It just sounded a little soft and sweet and it made me feel a little warm and fuzzy. Great! I rolled my eyes at the thought. "A lot of boys like you, Kiera." He paused then added, "But we all know you're like the stars...twinkling at us from up the sky but impossible to reach."

"Yeah, right..." I chuckled nervously, pushing away the thoughts that came flooding with the we and us from his last statement. "You're just exagerrating things, Raven, because that's not probable. They don't even know me and, mind you, no one has ever asked me out." Even at school, no one really shows interest in me...well, except for Aaron, but he's already moved on to the next girl.

"That's the thing, Kier. You're different from the rest of the girls. Everyone knows you're that pretty, smart, and talented girl—who barely comes down from her castle to mingle with us, commoners," he paused to chuckle. "But no one really knows you. You're like a mystery waiting to be solved," he continued, causing tiny drums to start playing inside my chest. "But everyone's scared of the unknown, so..."

"So everyone's scared of me?" I said, laughing.

He laughed too, then paused for a while before saying, "I'm not."

I didn't know when or how but those tiny drums were now accompanied by other instruments that my chest had morphed into a grand venue for an elaborate orchestra. And it was overwhelming. Too overwhelming that I started to feel nauseated. What am I doing? I didn't know if it could be called flirting but Raven and I were becoming more than casual friends. And this most definitely wasn't a hi-and-bye encounter! I realized I had been responding to his messages all too eagerly and began looking forward to those everytime my phone beeped. I also didn't have a problem answering to his phone calls even at school. I knew Matthew wouldn't be too thrilled about this new friend of mine, especially if he knew he never really surfaced in our conversations. I was a terrible liar and I wouldn't deliberately lie. It's just that Raven never asked me about having a boyfriend. And I never did ask him too. A girlfriend, I meant. I didn't ask him if he had a girlfriend. We were just being friendly to each other and there was no harm in that. And I thought it was probably just me and my obsession with love stories that I had started thinking about a budding romance between the two of us. I was probably just reading too much into things.

********************************************

Semestral break was now days ahead, just the breather that I needed. Examinations were almost done and there I was with the group of dancers at my school, practicing for our presentation to be showcased during the opening of the week-long inter-school sports competition for next month. Dancing was what I loved, next to reading books and sketching portraits. I'd easily get lost to music and beautiful movements. It made me feel free. And nothing was more freeing than dancing contemporary under a new choreographer for the event, which was a challenge that my group and I accepted wholeheartedly. Plus, I couldn't play sports. I was clumsy that I'd either miss serving a volleyball or get hit in the face with a basketball. The only way I could get those points from sports events was through cheering and dancing.

When we had had enough pirouettes and toe touch jumps, my friends and I slumped into the floor to rest. "I can't wait for the semestral break," most of them murmured. I also looked forward to creeping into my bed without body aches and waking up without a worry in the world. Just as my heartbeat started slowing down from racing and my sweats stopped pouring, my cellphone rang.

I turned rigid. I didn't have many people calling me. There's just my mom, actually. Matthew barely even texted. And there's...Raven.

My heart raced once again as I rummaged through my bag to look for my phone. When I finally found it, he really didn't disappoint. I ran outside the room to answer his call, my friends' curious eyes on me.

"Hi," I said through ragged breaths. When I realized Raven and I had been constantly on the phone to text each other, I tried to pull back and refocused my attention to school and Matthew. I hadn't heard from him for a while and this was so unexpected it kind of made me all flushed. I tried to sound a little less excited but I couldn't help my lips from twitching into a full-blown smile.

"Hello, Kiera..." he answered, his voice just as rasped and as sweet as I remembered it. It was weird that I could imagine him smiling behind that voice. And I hadn't even seen him yet. "Where are you?"

"School," I answered shortly.

"Isn't it your semestral break already?" he asked, his voice still making me feel all the fuzzy feelings I first had with Matthew.

I shook my head but felt stupid for doing it over the phone. "Not yet. I still have a couple of days or so. Why do you ask?"

I heard him chuckle. "I'm going home, Kier."

"Y-Yeah?" I murmured, my heart now beating erratically. I didn't know why but the thought of this person, whom I had shared a lot of conversations with over the phone for the last few weeks, coming home and probably wanting to see me felt like a really bad idea but one I still wanted to succumb to. "So you're done with your first semester in college?"

"Absolutely, maam," he said in a more playful tone. "And I can't wait to go home..."

He dragged his last word that I thought he still had something else to say, but there was nothing. I was glad our conversations still remained completely platonic and innocent. "That's great, Rave. Congratulations!"

"Thanks!" I imagined him grinning as he said that.

"So when is this great homecoming?"

He chuckled. "Soon," he said. "I'll see you when I see you."

I laughed too. "Sure," I answered. "I'll see you when I see you too."

The call didn't last long. He only wanted to say he was coming home and it left me feeling weak on the knees. I was scared of seeing him, of fully realizing that he was a real person and not just a figment of my imagination...and that I had been entertaining someone else, even if it was hardly romantic, behind Matthew's back. My excitement died down a little.

I went back to the room, my head still wrapped up around Raven's impending homecoming. I didn't realize what my face looked like until André, my gay best friend, shot me a curious look and asked, "What's with that grinning face? It's annoying!" I went to him and slumped giddily beside him. "Who was that?"

"Matthew..." I answered with a slight shrug of my shoulders.

"Uh-huh? If you say so," he said, his eyes still pierced on mine, telling me what a terrible liar I was.

Nobody knew about Raven because I didn't want my friends telling me that what I was doing was wrong especially when there was really nothing between Raven and I. I knew they wouldn't believe that. Even I have my doubts too. But Raven and I never crossed a line, which was what really mattered, and his presence in my life was a breath of fresh air I didn't realize I was craving so much. And again, I might have been just imagining things that weren't really there. Raven was a college student who probably had a lot of beautiful college girls flocking around him. He might even have a girlfriend waiting for him too. I just knew him through our text messages and calls but I didn't really know him that much. I was stupid to think of anything other than a platonic relationship between us but it also somehow felt disappointing, which scared me a lot because that would be validating I somehow felt something for him. Even just a little. And it would crush Matthew.

Oh, Matthew...

I had never been more guilty in my life.

[thunderclouds-house-of-fun]

You wanna talk shit about someone's Grammer yet you couldn't even spell beautiful correctly. Face it you got rejected by a blog you wanted to to with now your harping on other people because you got served your own medicine.

I’ll just go ahead and humor you for a bit and simply say; “oh, of course! I know how to spell, and I already knew that both my grammar and spelling is bad…. like, really bad! so bad in fact, I’m appalled that you even cominted on my bad grammar and incorrect spelling. when it comes to spelling out words and coherent sentences, for certian pepole its a brez (which I’m still having trouble with vic versa), i sometimes skim over what I have in mind and don’t usually mean what I say, like, forgetting to put the proper words, in coherent sentences, or mispunctuating my punctuations in their respective places. 

[yes-fandoms-united]

A/N: I would like to do a quick shout out to @universityjourney2017 my close friend who has offered to edit my Supernatural works considering that my spelling and grammar is appalling hahah, so go check out her page and give her a lot of support! Thanks guys! 

Also I apologise for being so inactive 

WARNING S13 SPN SPOILERS AHEAD

"Dean stop!" You cried running into the room with a look of panic. He had his gun raised and aimed at the strain fly grown, naked boy in the courner of the room. Too late, in the time the shot was fired and you feel unconscious time seemed to slow. Pulsing light and glowing eyes filled your vision and you managed a glance at the boys before being thrown against the wall and darkness fell. 

"Y/N?" You groaned rubbing your head, you where in the back of the impala and Sam and Dean where watching you carefully. "What-?"

"We need to find Jack, can you tune into angel radio and find him?" Dean asked gruffly and you grimaced sitting up 

"but-" you began and Dean reached around the car seats to place a hand on your knee soothingly. "I know it hurts babe, but we need to know where he is and it’s the quickest way now Cas..." he trailed off and you could see the hurt in his eyes before nodding and closing your eyes reluctantly. The pain was almost instant as the voice screamed through your mind but after enought years of experience you had taught yourself to tune out the noise and listen for what you needed. But the pain was burning, like fire in your mind and you screamed through it. Dean hated asking you to do this but both him and Sam knew it was the only way to find the spawn of satan. Your eyes flew open with a sudden gasp and fell back in the seats of the car panting for air. "Police station, in town" you gasped and before you could take your next breath the car had been put in gear and shot off down the highway. "We still got any holy oil?" Dean asked as he drove and Sam pulled a face"I think so, wh-?" he began 

"Becuase this is Lucifer’s kid, we’re gonna have to hit him with everything we’ve got" Dean snapped back and you sat forwards, breath now regained. 

"Dean’s he’s just a kid, you can’t just go in all guns blazing" you said and Sam shot you an agreeing glance. 

"He’s a monster, we kill monsters, kinda what we do" Dean huffed

"Dean, he less than a day old. Despite having hit puberty in about thirty seconds flat, he’s still a kid. He’s probably scared and probably doesn’t know that much - Can’t we at least reason with him. Maybe even…"

"Don’t even suggest it" Dean threatened and you glared at the back of his head. 

"Maybe even take him in. We might be able to nurture him, its not necessarily all about who your parents are."

"But Y/N he is the kid of the devil himself, a monster, half and half, shouldn’t be here-"

"Half and half huh Dean?" you snapped and you spied him watching you in the rear view mirror "Being half of one thing and half of another makes you a monster and that qualifiys you as a target for your gun?" you where nearly screaming now but you took a breaht to steady yourself before nearly whispering "Then why am I still alive?" 

No one spoke for the rest of the drive and it wasn’t until you reached the police station that something happened. The three of you rushed in to see Jack on the floor screaming. "Angel radio" you told them and Jack looked up from the floor clutching at his head in pain, that was until Sam came from behind and tazered him. "Sam!" you cried and fell to the floor next to Jack brushing his hair back. This resulted in you, Sam and Jack getting locked in a cell and Dean dragged off to explain everything to the sheriff that found this sitiuation. 

You sat next to Jack, who was unconsious on the hard table like bed in the cell while Sam sat on the bench stiff as a brick with fear of the boy. "Y/N, you need to get away from him, you dunno what he’ll do" he warned and you shook your head, looking over your shoulder at him. "No, you don’t understand Sam. I may be one of the only surviving nephilim left and I found safety with you and Dean, even Cas an angel accepted me as not a monster. My heritage and parents don’t define who I am. I like to think that Dean loves me as who I am. This boy, this child need someone to care for him in the way that I never got as a kid, but like I have now" you said, your words where carefully choosen and Sam understood that he would never understand the suffering you had edured, the alienation that a young nephilm might experience, and how meeting someone like yourself that you could care for, made you feel. 

Suddenly Jack sat bolt upright, almost flying across the room, eyes glowing golden and an almost red colour. It was compareable to watching a cat hiss and spit in defence of itself, back arched and teeth at the ready to attack. "Hey, we’re not gonna hurt you" 

Sam said holding his hands up and slowly you got to your feet. "Jack?" you said carefully 

"You already hurt me" Jack growled and Sam nodded hurriedly.

"I know… I… and I’m sorry" he said 

"Jack it was for your own safety, you where hurting people" you said and it was like he hadn’t realised you where in the room before you said that. Suddenly Jack’s eyes stoped glowing and he’s back was no longer arched and he cocked his head to oneside watching you. "Jack, please, you need to calm down. I know its scary but-"

"You're like me?" he said and they way he phrased his sentence made it sound like a question and you nodded. Jack moved to sit cross legged on the bed and you smile kindly, Sam was still frozen where he sat. "I’m sorry" he said suddenly "When I’m scared…" he said as if trying to explain his actions. 

"Why where you scared?" Sam asked

"The voices, their so loud" you glanced at the younger Winchester and nodded with a shared knowing look. 

"Can you hear them now?" 

"No…" he answered not taking his eyes of you. 

"Jack, it is Jack yeah?" you asked and he seemed to nod or at least respond to the name. 

"I’m like you, so I understand that is disorientating and scary, but could you explain how you grew so quickly?" you asked sitting next to Sam who seemd to be trying to sink into the wall in an attempt to get as far away from Jack as posssible. "I had to, my father-"

"Lucifer?" you asked and Jack shook his head standing up and walking to the wall, tracing the lines between the bricks with his fingers. "No… that is not his name. His name is Castiel, my mother… said he would protect me. But the world was dangerous, I had to grow up quickly."

"Wait what?" both you and Sam said in unison. 

"Dean, he has to come with us" you whispered leaning to rest you head on his shoulder and he grimaced. 

"But come on, Y/N, Lucifer’s kid" he complained and you sighed watching as Jack sat on a bench not far off watching the paramedics wheel a boy away on a streacher. 

"I know, but he said that he choose Cas as his father, and if you gave me a chance, surely this is the right thing to do. You’ve let even vampires go before. Why not a nephilim?" you asked. 

"I don’t like this but I think we should take him back to the bunker, at least there the only people he can hurt are us." Dean muttered thinking it over out loud. You shared a cautious look with Sam, Dean would never put the two of you in danger unless he knew it was the best and only opption he had. "Just remember Dean" you said lifting your head and looking at him, but he wouldn’t meet your gaze only continued staring ahead. "You didn’t kill me." You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before sliding off the car bonnet where you where sat to walk over to Jack and sit next to him with a kind smile. 

[so-many-youtubers-so-little-time]

Collabs and Secrets

Summary: You decide to film a video with the whole buttercream gang, your best friends, but find it’s much harder to collab with them, especially when you are keeping it a secret that you’re dating one of them. 

A/n: So this idea came to me a few days ago and I just wanted to keep it simple but I sort of melded a few ideas and this is the result lol. Forgive any grammar mistakes and spelling errors, also if you notice any inconsistencies just hmu, hope you enjoy! 

Pairing: Joe Sugg x reader

Words: 4.7K 

You fixed your hair and stuck a tongue out at the camera before centering yourself on the huge, empty, sofa then began your intro. 

“Hey, guys! It’s me, (y/n), again! And today...” You paused for suspense, “I have the whole Buttercream gang with me!” And on cue, Josh, Jack, Joe, Oli, Conor, and Caspar jumped out from behind the sofa. 

“Yay!” Caspar yelled excitedly as he fell face-first on the sofa and slid down the front. Jack began stroking your face while making creepy eye contact with the camera and Joe jumped forward and took a seat on the sofa, almost kicking you in the face while doing so. 

You jumped back before facing the camera, “I swear one day, these boys will do something and I’m gonna get seriously injured,” you joked to the camera. 

“Aweh (y/n)...” Conor took a seat next to you before sharply turning to face the camera, “You’reprobablyright, I’msorryinadvance!” He spoke really fast which broke all of you into laughter. 

After all of the guys settled into the sofa or tried to, but Jack and Conor ended up having to sit on the ground, on each side of your legs. Joe and Caspar were seated on each of your sides. Oli on Joe’s other side, and Josh on Caspar’s side. “Everyone seated? Can we properly start now?-” 

“Where’s Mikey?” Caspar interrupted which is when you guys started noticing he wasn’t to be seen. 

“Probably taking a shit,” Josh joked which made you chuckle. 

Joe said gesturing at you, “It’s alright, (Y/n) can take his spot in the ‘Buttercream gang’.” 

“Cor, Mikey’s gotten hotter!” Oli flirted but was interrupted by an appalled Jack. 

“That implies that Mikey was hot, to begin with,” he said with while side eyeing the camera. 

“You are right,” Oli mumbled making everyone laugh more but you turned your attention back to the camera. 

“Anyway!-” You blanked on what you were gonna say next and Josh caught you. 

“Did you forget?!” He nudged you with his hand, which was placed over Caspar’s shoulder

Joe peered over to Josh while snickering, “She did!” 

“She was so busy getting all of us for one video, she actually forgot to plan the video!” Caspar stated before you slightly shoved him, but he was being over dramatic and fell on Josh then rolled onto the ground. 

Everyone laughed again but before Caspar could get up and take his spot again. Josh and Jack lunged for his spot. You scooted closer to Joe and watched them both try to fit on the sofa as Caspar also began fighting for his spot back. 

Oli looked at the camera and said with a deadpan expression, “She’s our only female friend if you haven’t noticed.” 

Conor chuckled then went cross eyed. “A FUH-MALE?!” which no one must’ve heard over the sound of Caspar, Josh, and Jack arguing. 

“Guys! Guys! Guys! The Video!” You tried but they would not bother until they each had the seat next to you. As they continued fighting, you just stared into the camera with a blank expression, Joe noticed and began doing the same. Then Conor noticed, then Oli, and they too stared at the camera as the three men acted childishly. 

Finally, Josh won and got the spot next to you, with Jack stuck beside him and Caspar forced to sit on the ground, near your leg, next to Conor. After they settled down and became jovial again Caspar noticed you and the other boys,“Wha- huh?” Caspar asked as he looked back and forth between you four and the camera. 

“Oh, nothing,” Joe said as you all cut the act and laughed at how in sync you four were. 

Jack pretendingly grumbled in the corner about how unfair it was that Josh got the spot next to you when Oli peered over, “Buddy, we can all hear you-” 

“I don’t think he cares, he just loves (y/n) too much!” Joe kidded to which you made this face at the camera. 

Jack and Conor, who were on opposite ends of the frame began joking around loudly while Joe, Caspar, and Oli also began cracking their own inside jokes, forgetting that they were there to film for your video. 

You tried to grab their attention and focus it back to the video but your voice drowned out, Josh noticed and thankfully helped you out, “Are- Are you guys done?” Josh asked with a slightly annoyed tone while glancing back and forth between each of the boys and the camera until each of the boys had quieted down.  

You looked up at Josh and smiled, opening your mouth to say something when Mikey walked out of the bathroom and stood in front of the camera, blocking it. “You guys started filming without me?!” he questioned with his back to the camera. “Why- Can’t you wait-” He took a step back as he questioned you seven. 

“Mikey!” all of you shouted in unison. 

“The camera, mate!” Joe shouted as Mikey almost knocked over your set up, but he whipped around in time and didn’t.

“Can you just sit down, LP?!” Josh yelled, starting a tsunami of people yelling at Mikey too. So Mikey just mumbled nervously and walked up to the sofa. 

“Mate, whatcha looking for? There’s no space on the sofa?” Joe pointed out as he gestured at how cramped everyone was on the sofa.  

You nodded your head at Joe’s comment and pointed to the ground but Mikey just gestured at the sofa, “I dunno- Couldn’t you make some more space? Just- like- scoot around-?” he shrugged.

“If there was more space on the sofa, why would we be sittin’ on the ground, Mikey?” Caspar questioned. 

After moments of banter, Mikey also resigned to sitting on the ground, near Jack’s feet, even though he was occasionally met with tickles and tasers from him, which distracted everyone but you could finally get back to the video. 

“Ok! So as you’ve read the title, this is a new type of game, basically, a ‘who knows me better’ and a ‘hypothetical scenarios’ game put together-.” 

“Oh boy!” Joe exclaimed before you could finish your sentence. 

“Is there a prize or anything?” Oli questioned as he peered over to you. 

You nodded, “There is actually!” You turned back to the camera, “Whoever wins gets a kiss from me!” In the corner of your eyes, you noticed Joe’s eyes widen then his expression change to pretend like he wasn’t shocked. 

“Really?!” one of the boys questioned, with hints of surprise and disbelief, while looking at you but you broke out laughing. 

“No,” you replied while laughing at their reactions, “The prize is actually winner’s choice,” you explained when you finally caught your breath.  

“That’s even better!” Conor said as he slowly faced the camera and creepily smirked. 

“Oi! To a limit! I’m not gonna murder anyone or like that cause you won-” 

“Wait, I can still ask for a kiss if I win?” Jake flirted in front of the boys but before Joe chimed in. 

“IF you win.” 

“Oohhh!” Josh went glancing between him and Joe, who then began pretending to get angry and put their fists up, implying that they were gonna fight for you. 

You chuckled before going deadpan and screaming, “The video!” They laughed it off then went back to normal so that you could finish the instructions. “There are some rules for the ‘winners choice’ but I’ll get to that after the game instructions-” 

Conor mumbled something to Jack, causing him to giggle, and you made a mental note to edit that out before going back to the game. “So I asked you guys, my followers, to send in questions and scenarios, some which would include these guys and some which wouldn’t. Then each of you,” you gestured at the boys, “-would get a chance to answer. Whoever answers closest to what I would do or have done in that scenario, gets a point!” 

Oli chimed in, “So we could literally have any answer and if we convinced you enough it would be right?-”

“You couldn’t have done a simple ‘best friend vs. boy friend?” Jack questioned jokingly. 

“She just needed an excuse to get all seven of us on the same screen,” Conor stated while laughing. 

“Yeah plus she doesn't have a boyfriend,” Caspar responded to Jack.

“...Or best friends,” Joe mumbled before giggling. You caught his eyes and gave a glare before jabbing his side with your finger, making him jump back. He pushed you away and you two had a minor poking fight but your attention was caught by Mikey.

“OK, (y/n), but I am obviously at such a disadvantage,” Mikey pointed out, “I’ve known you the least amount of time out of all these boys- I don’t even know your favorite color-” 

“Mikey, we’ve known each for over two years, I reckon that’s a good amount of time to get to know someone,” You told while Conor explained to Mikey that it wasn’t a fact-based question-answer game but rather a set of hypothetical scenarios where they would have to predict how you would act. 

You got back to your sentence, “Whoever has the most points at the end of the game is the winner and can use me however they want-” when the last sentence came out of your mouth you knew it was wrong. And broke out laughing. 

“Whaddya mean ‘use you’ (y/n)?!” Joe questioned while everyone laughed their ass off. 

“What I mean is, the winner can make me do something and I won’t be able to refuse, but... but... nothing inappropriate and nothing which could hurt others. Those are my rules, other than that I’m good with whatever the winner makes me do, cause I trust you all equally.” 

Conor looked up at you with a weird smile and you giggled, “Not you though, I don’t trust you.” 

You picked up your phone and informed the camera, “I have my questions and my score board here,” you showed the boys your notes on your phone without giving away too much. “Shall we get started? Question number one,” 

In an instant, all of the boys dropped their side conversations and diverted their full attention to you. Your mouth opened to read a question but you glanced up and snickered, “Why’d all of you just get so serious so fast?” 

They looked around at each other and also laughed at their behavior when Oli answered, “It’s cause we really wanna win that prize.” 

Your eyes widened and you spoke to the camera, “Am I gonna regret ‘winners choice’?” the guys started talking again but you interrupted, “ANYWAY! Scenario #1: If I was a time traveler, where would I go: the future or the past? And what would I do there? I’m open to your explanations,” you finished but then a detail came to you, “Remember: more than one of you can get points for each question so you guys can team up and discuss, but there can only be one winner, in the end.” You looked around to find them still watching you, “Go on!” you had to say before they began talking amongst themselves.

Jack, Mikey, and Josh discussed on your left but you heard that they disagreed with each other so Josh quit sharing with them. 

Conor and Caspar whispered near your legs, but you didn’t think it was an answer being talked about because they were giggling and rambling on. 

On your right, Joe had turned to face Oli and they seemed like they were actually being serious about the answer so you leaned in closer when Joe turned around and smiled, surprised that you were so close to his face. 

You were tempted to kiss him, and you knew he was too, but the boys were watching so he just began talking with a silly accent, “Excuse you, ma’am, how may we help you?” He asked while extended his neck out to you, making you move back into your original sitting position. 

You chuckled before to trying to eavesdrop on the others again until everyone was ready with their answers. 

“Ok let’s go in a circle, starting with Josh, ending with Joe.” You said as you clapped their shoulders at their names. 

“I think you would travel to the past, before WW2 and try to stop Hitler.” He said so with a serious face.  

You nodded, “Alright, next: Jack,” You peered over Josh and met Jacks eyes who was just finished giggling at something he and Mikey chatted about. 

“Ummm... I think you would travel to the future and visit a personal milestone in your life,” he glanced at the camera before mumbling, “Like our marriage.” 

Which made the guys chuckle but you just rolled your eyes at him and moved on to watch Mikey answer. “I- uh-” he chuckled nervously, “I think you would travel to the past and meet your mother?” He sounded like he was guessing which cracked you up. 

“She doesn’t need to time travel for that, she could just hop on a plane,” Conor joked. 

“Oi, you know what I meant!” Mikey argued as he pointed at Conor. You just laughed it off and looked down at Caspar for his answer. He said past too, and something about bananas. 

Then Conor went, giving the funniest and most unbelievable answer ever, following him it was Oli who was actually the closest to something you would do then finally Joe went. 

“I think you would travel to the future and maybe meet your future self -not a milestone or anything- but ask a couple of questions- maybe try to pinpoint any mistake you made so you could avoid them after you return to present time?” He seemed really into his answer and the more he explained it you could imagine yourself doing that too. 

“Alright good answers, boys, out of the seven of you, I only found three to be something I would do.” The boys leaned in closer to hear who got points, “ the first point goes to Oli-” he pumped the air and smiled as you continued on, “ the second point goes to Jack! I would totally visit a future milestone in my life- just not our marriage- cause that won’t ever happen-” you said with slight disgust as you faced the camera before breaking character, “And the last point goes to...” you waited for effect before swiftly turning the other way and meeting Joe’s eyes, “Mr.Joe Sugg!” He cheered and shouted in victory but you looked down to see the opposite in Caspar and Conor. 

Caspar began- pretend- crying. 

Conor stood up and began swearing profusely which made all you of a laugh, “This game sucks!-” he acted, “You’re a liar, (y/n)- a liar, I say!” He stormed off the frame before entering back with a large grin on his face. He ran a hand through his hair and sat back down for the next question. 

You cleared your throat and waited until everyone was done chatting to carry on to the second question, hoping it wouldn’t take as long as the first question/answer because, after every answer, the boys got too distracted & started having side conversations and wrangling their attentions back for the video took all the energy out of you. “Guys, question #2:” they quieted down and listened, “If I had no obligations for 24 hours, and had the ability to do whatever I wanted, what would I do?” You decided to let the boys answer in whatever order they felt in and reached the end of that answer session. 

Caspar, Joe, and Jack got points at the end of the round since they all predicted that you would either just sit in your room watching tv/youtube or try to meet your idol. 

After a few questions, you decided you needed a break so you called a time out and checked the clock. 8:38. 

“You boys wanna order pizza?” You asked as you held up a pizza place pamphlet. 

“Sure.” Caspar voiced before he went back to chatting and joking around with the others. You tried calling from the living room but the boys were so loud that you had no choice other than going into your bedroom. 

You pulled out your phone and began dialing the pizza place when the door closed and two arms wrapped around your waist. You turned around to find your boyfriend, Joe, with a smile on his lips. 

“I didn’t get to tell you how gorgeous you look,” he leaned into to give a soft kiss. 

When you pulled away you looked up to meet his eyes, “How’re the boys? Do they suspect anything?” 

Joe chuckled to himself then answered, “I don’t think so, me and you’ve been best friends for so long, they’re just used to seeing you and me so close, I mean- Jack can’t stop flirting so-” 

You chuckled, feeling bad for Jack but also delighted that you were so good at keeping everything under wraps. “I know, I know, but something tells me that he’s just doing it all for this video, something’s changed & I just think he’s pretending.” 

Joe nodded and took a step forward, making you take a step back, towards your bed. “Hey,” you whispered, “Not right now,” you warned trying not to smile as he continued walking you towards the bed. His hand rubbing circles on your hip, underneath your shirt. Your legs hit the edge of the bed and you two fell onto the bed. 

“The door-?” You pointed. 

“Locked,” Joe smirked as he laid on top of you. 

“Joe,” You met his eyes, “we can’t, not now, but later tonight maybe...” your hands wandered from his chest to his stomach, before beginning to tickle him. 

He rolled off of you and squirmed as you tickled him even more. Wrinkles around his eyes and laugh lines around his mouth gasped for air in between the laughs. He was about to laugh a little bit too loud so you quickly covered his mouth and ‘shhh’ed. 

The two of you froze but you shouldn’t have put your guard down because, in a swift motion, Joe was on top of you, his hands pinning your wrists down. You gasped but kept the volume down, “Joeseph Graham Sugg, let me go or else someone won’t get to sneak into my house at night,” you warned and gave him a smirk, you could even see the gears in his mind turning. 

He quickly rolled off you and you two just laid there on the bed, side by side. He interlaced his fingers into yours and you turned to face him, “I don’t wanna keep this a secret anymore. I don’t want to keep us a secret anymore.” Your eyes grazed over his lips and went to his sapphire eyes.  

“I know, (y/n), but I don’t know if the fandom will be open for us yet.” He also turned on his side and placed his other hand on your waist. 

“Yeah, I don’t know if the fans should know just yet but the boys deserve to know, I mean they knew that we had crushes on each other, and I think they deserve to know that we’ve been dating for a month now.” 

Joe smiled at the thought of not having to hide this relationship in front of them then nodded, “Yeah, let’s tell them tonight itself.” 

“Tonight?” 

“Yeah, the whole gangs here, let's.” 

You smiled and bit your lip before nodding, “I’m ok with that.” 

Everyone had pizza in their hands and stared at the camera with a deadpan expression, just so you could put in a clip of the break in the video, “That’s good!” You yelled and everyone became normal again. Pizzas were laid out in the center of the coffee table. 

Conor, Jack, Mikey, and Josh were sat in a circle around it. Joe, Caspar, You and Oli were sat on the sofa. 

After dinner, You and the boys got back into position and decided to start filming again. You & Joe glanced at each other, trying to contain smiles and went back to playing the game. Around the sixth question, you looked down to see Caspar stroking your leg which made everyone crack up but after that, the game continued well, even though there were about ten thousand tangent conversations and inside jokes during the whole filming. 

“Who’s winning, (y/n)?” Oli asked as he peered around Joe. 

You checked your count on the phone and looked up with a mix of surprise and shock, “It’s me, isn’t it?” Conor said while grinning at the camera even though he only got two points so far.  

“Ummm actually it’s tied between Caspar, Jack, and Joe.” 

“What?!” Conor yelled pretending to through a fit, “Lemmeseethat!” He rambled as he lunged for your phone but then pulled back, making everyone laugh, “No but seriously,” he went deadpan, “How is Jack up there?” 

“Yeah, how is he up there?” Josh asked in disbelief. 

“What does that mean, mate?” Jack asked with hints of annoyance.

“Alright, Alright, I just called it like it is, you guys still have four more questions to redeem yourselves-” 

“Mikey has a negative point?!” Joe interrupted as he gazed at your phone.  

“What?!” Mikey questioned as he stood up and took your phone to find that Joe was only messing. 

“Mikey, sit down, he was only joking,” you told as he nervously chuckled along with Joe before taking his place again. 

The next three questions flew by and Joe & Jack were still tied but Oli took Caspar’s place in the tie. 

Getting the group of boys to focus again after the previous round took a few moments but you were now ready for the last question. “Ok boys, this is the last one. It’s fairly easy too. Ready?” you asked as you looked around, “If I had a superpower, what would it be and why?” 

The boys took a few moments to discuss amongst themselves. Josh had just given up or he must’ve made up his answer already because he just sat there in silence. Joe was the next one to finish, so he picked up his phone and began scrolling through Insta. Soon all of the boys were ready for the answers so you pointed at Caspar to start them off. 

“I think you would have X-ray vision because you love being nosy.” 

You cracked a smile and glanced at the camera with a puzzling look. 

Following Caspar went Conor, then Joe, then Josh, and so on until everyone had given their answer, you awarded points to Oli and Jack, which meant they were tied. You didn’t know what to do, you wondered if they could ‘rock, paper, Scissors's it but your discussion with Joe came back to your mind and you decided to add a secret question which would be edited out of the video. 

“So do we both win, (Y/n)?” Oli asks with a toothy grin, glad that he won. 

“Actually, I’ve decided to add an extra question worth two points,” you bit your lip, glancing at Joe from the corner of your eyes, “It’s not gonna be in the video though, so umm... yeah lets get to it.” They were a bit confused but they complied when you told all of them to pull their phones out and have the notes app on so that they could show you the answer without any others hearing and agreeing. 

“Ok.. ready? Phones out?” The boys nodded and watched you, your heart beating faster than ever as you opened your mouth, “I’ve been keeping a secret for the past month, what is it?” 

The boys began typing quickly and finished in an instant. “Conor first.” He handed you the phone and mumbled something to Jack before erupting into laughter. You read his answer and closed your eyes before cracking a smile, “No, I am not ‘pregnent with an alien baby’, Conor.” 

The boys broke out in laughter as you shook your head and grabbed Josh’s phone. His answer wasn’t correct either, so you just moved onto Joe’s phone. He obviously knew the answer but he just wrote: ‘You’re cute AF and IDK how lucky I am to have such an amazing woman as my GF and best friend.’ You blushed like a strawberry but got him out of your thoughts and moved on while avoiding eye contact. Following him was Oli, then Caspar, so far none of them had guessed your relationship secret yet but you also knew the chances of guessing that was slim.

Next went Mikey followed lastly by Jack’s phone. He had a smirk on his face as he handed it to you. Mikey tried peering onto his screen but you grabbed it fast like a child. You looked down and read his answer and your eyes went wide, “Oh my god!” Joe glanced and gasped too, “How, Jack?!” you yelled out, he took that as a win and cheered. 

“I knew it!” 

“Wait, what?” Caspar asked as Jack continued cheering. 

Joe decided to tell the others, “(Y/n) and I-”

But Jack yelled out, “JOE AND (Y/N) ARE DATING!” 

What followed after that was just a blur for you. They were all happy for you two obviously but it was overwhelming answering so many questions, at least the guilt weighing you down was gone and you felt open to being yourself around the boys again. 

After lots of explaining and well-wishing, everyone had settled down to film the outro. “So who won the game, (Y/n)?” Conor asked as you all acted normal for the camera. 

“Well... after a very intense round of ‘rock, paper, scissor’s,” you lied, “...Jack Maynard is the winner!” You hung your head in fake sadness as he stood up and cheered. Later, after he settled down, you finished the outro and the boys began filtering out of your home. 

Caspar and Josh left first, they had a meeting the next day and it was pretty late. Next was Mikey, then Oli. 

You were laying on the sofa with your head on Joe’s lap as you two chatted with Conor and Jack. “Ugh go back to being a secret if you’re gonna be so cute,” Conor said with fake disgust written across his face 

“Hey, what’s done is done, mate.” Joe leaned down and kissed you before tickling your side a little. 

You were gonna respond to Conor but a thought came back to you. “Wait, Jack, how’d you know me and Joe are dating?” You sat up and snuggled into Joe’s side. 

“Oh,” he chuckled, “I was editing Sunday’s vlog when I noticed Joe give you a cheeky kiss on the lips, in the background of one of the clips.” 

You scoffed, “Joe!” You playfully slapped his arm, “I told you not to be so obvious-” 

“Sorry, sorry-” 

“Now that Jack’s won, who knows what he’s gonna make me do-” 

“You got yourself into that, (Y/n)” Conor told making you chuckle. 

“Even though I did know you two were dating, I made it till the end of the game without that affecting my points, I still would’ve won cause I know you the best.” Jack shrugged, “I was just trying to get Joe jealous and admit your relationship himself but that never happened.” 

The realization dawned on you, “Ohhh, that’s why you were flirting so much with me-” 

“Yeah who in the right mind would flirt with you, (Y/n),” Jack joked while gagging. You turned to Joe with a sad puppy face but ended up laughing. 

“Jack, you’re true gentlemen,” Conor said sarcastically as he stood up to leave too. 

“You betcha,” Jack said with a cheesy American accent as he stood up too.  

[betsynagler]

1.8 Insults a Day

On inauguration day in 2017, which was also, sadly, my birthday, Damon and I were feeling shitty about the world, and so one way we decided to resist was by creating a Twitter bot called About a Bully, with the handle @insultingdonald. For those of you who don’t know what a Twitter bot is, it’s a Twitter account that you digitally alter to run automatically. Most bots tweet on a regular schedule or in response to certain stimuli, like people tweeting at it who want to see what it will come up with when it answers them. You can make it generate its own material if you know enough about AI (although if you think you know about AI and you don’t you can end up creating something like this, so it’s best not to fuck around), or you can create a bunch of material that it can mix up according to formulae you give it and send out at random. The material we chose for About a Bully was Trump’s insults, but rewritten so that they are directed at him. So if you follow @insultingdonald, about three times a day you will see it tweet out things like “Trump is a liar!”, or “Sleazebag President Donald Trump,” or “Never in the history of our Country has the ‘president’ been more dishonest than he is today.” If you're familiar with our current president, you will recognize a lot of these tweets for who they are typically directed at. For instance, from time to time you'll see something like “Donald Trump, who I call Pocahontas,” which refers to Elizabeth Warren, or something about “FAKE TRUMP,” which fills in for his many tweets railing at the media, and of course lots of “Crooked Donald”s — which you'd have to be living under a rock to not know was in its original form “Crooked Hilary,” something that also comes up at lot because he’s still regularly tweeting about her this way, two and half years after the 2016 election, especially when he’s feeling defensive about the Mueller probe, which is basically always.

Which brings me to something that I didn't anticipate when we created this bot. Because Damon is the coder in our duo, I do most of the analog end of our work. To maintain About a Bully, this means that I am the one who has to go in every few months and collect and adapt Trump’s insults, which means I have to comb through months of his tweets at a stretch. Given how industrious he is in this one area (as opposed to pretty much anything else, other than maybe watching Fox), that generally means I spend several hours immersing myself in…well, just garbage. A stream of pure, steaming, foul-smelling offal. At least that’s how it feels. 

This is not what most people experience when they follow the president on Twitter. For them, he’s just one person in their feed, that flow of tweets from all of the people they follow, that appears basically in real time. If you're following maybe 200 people, one of whom is Trump, you'll see his tweets mixed up with everyone else’s, popping up a few times a day — which is why lots of people I’ve always assumed are sane, like some of my friends as well as Jordan Peele, Chris Pratt, Chris Rock, Seth Meyers, and John Cusack, who don’t have to follow him for work like journalists or politicians presumably do, can tolerate following him (although the comedians do also need to generate material, so there’s that). 

But if you go to Trump’s Twitter page and read three to six months of tweets at a stretch, the picture is very different. First of all, you see just how much he repeats himself, over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and just keep going with the overs. He hammers away at the same claims, complaints and attacks, day after day — sometimes the exact same, when he retweets himself, as he frequently does, or when he uses his regular slogans, like some version of “THE FAKE NEWS MEDIA IS THE ENEMY OF THE PEOPLE.” He also repeatedly uses the same words or phrases, such as

exciting 

beautiful

tremendous  

great

smart

sacred (this one’s especially bizarre, given all that we know about him)

special 

NO COLLUSION

PRESIDENTIAL HARASSMENT (ironic)

not smart / low IQ (also ironic, for someone who threatened his high school and college not to divulge his transcripts or SAT scores) 

crazy (okay, let’s just say they are all ironic)

disgrace / disgraceful

conflicted (used to describe someone or something that has a conflict of interest, not someone who feels conflicted. Yeah, took me a while to figure that one out, since my reaction was always, “I don't really think Bob Mueller is conflicted at all about the Russia investigation.”)

dopey 

fake or FAKE 

failed, or failing 

illegal

dishonest

lying or lyin’ 

Crooked, as I already mentioned, always capitalized because it’s always used as part of, or a substitute for, Hilary Clinton’s name. 

Whether this repetitiveness is a strategy or something of which he's unaware, or a combination of the two, is hard to say since we can’t actually go inside his mind (although reading his tweets gets pretty close, which, again, is why I feel covered in filth after doing it for a few hours). Regardless, it is mind-numbing, and thus hard not to read as both the work of someone absent-minded and slightly deranged, and propaganda. Especially because, second, his tweets are just full of flat-out lies, which he also repeats. This is a technique we’ve seen perfected at Fox News and then passed on to the entire Republican Party as “staying on message,” but it’s especially necessary if you’re trying to generate a "fact” out of thin air. Here are just the ones that he said so far today:

“The Wall is being built and is well under construction.” People on both sides of the aisle (most blatantly his friend and foe Ann Coulter) have pointed out repeatedly how untrue this is. 

“We are apprehending record numbers of illegal immigrants - but we need the Wall to help our great Border Patrol Agents!” Impossible, since only 521K were apprehended in 2018, and the trend is downward overall, from a high of 1.5 million in 2000. He actually claimed himself that the numbers were down throughout 2017 and 2018, as proof that his border policies were working, and has only now 180-ed on that to prove we have a “state of emergency.”

“Both the Judge and the lawyer in the Paul Manafort case stated loudly and for the world to hear that there was NO COLLUSION with Russia.” What the judge actually said was that Manafort was “not before this court for anything having to do with collusion with the Russian government to influence this election,” which is not at all the same thing, and the lawyer who said there was no collusion was Manafort’s lawyer, who also claimed he wasn’t guilty of bank fraud or cheating on his taxes, two things of which he was just convicted.

And this is not an unusual amount, since, according to the Washington Post the president averaged 15 false claims a day in 2018. 

Third, his tweets are full of incorrect grammar and spelling. Typos like “hamberders” and “Covfefe” have become the most famous instances, but nearly every tweet has something wrong with it. There's erroneous capitalization (most of which he claims is for added emphasis, but in the case of, for example, “Where are the new Texts between Agent Lisa Page and her Agent lover, Peter S?”, what is there to emphasize about Texts?). There is the weird/incorrect use of punctuation, like dashes and scare quotes where they don't belong and missing apostrophes where they do (here's one that contains all three!: “Without strong Borders, we don’t have a Country - and the voters are on board with us. Be strong and smart, don’t fall into the Democrats “trap” of Open Borders and Crime!”). And there are the most basic mistakes like spelling “lose” as “loose,” “heal” as “heel” (very Freudian), “there” as “their” and vice versa, “too” or “two” as “to,” etc etc. Of course with any of these, you can say that lots of people make these kinds of mistakes, but you must always remember, they aren't the president of the United States.

Which is what's so remarkable and disturbing about diving into this stream of spew: it’s yet another appalling example of something we've just accepted Trump does that you cannot imagine any other president would have been caught dead doing, of something that is not normal that we've just gotten used to. Even W, who we all thought was not the sharpest tool in the shed, knew enough to delegate things he wasn't good at (and if the world as we know it is fucked because he delegated too many of them to Dick Cheney, that’s not because Cheney was not competent at achieving what he wanted, but because he was). Trump’s Twitter feed shows him not only to be just as stupid and arrogant as you think — because he figures that all of this thoughtless, repetitive crap that comes into his head and then out of his tiny fingers is exciting, beautiful, tremendous!, just as it is, and thus doesn't need to be vetted or edited, even when it potentially obstructs justice or reveals information damaging to national security — but even more self-promoting, defensive, childish, crude, and vindictive, and obsessively so. It's the feed of someone who so believes that the only truth is what he wants it to be, and that he can make the whole world that way if he just continues to hammer it into submission, repeatedly, day after day after day. And on a lot of those days, it seems that America keeps proving him right. Republican lawmakers are certainly trying.

Perhaps the saddest thing that we’ve figured out since 2015, when the New York Times started collecting his insults (and we give them full credit for tracking this phenomenon before we did), is that Trump has averaged 1.8 per day. And that means, since he actually can go for days without an insult if things are going well for him or if he just feels like retweeting other people (and we only include the insults that originate with him), that the concentration of insults you’ll encounter on a given day can often be an impressive four or five. Now, I’m sure we all know people who average more insults than this — the worst bully you ever encountered in junior high, the most horrible boss you ever had, the crazy neighbor down the hall who made your life hell, Howard Stern, Rush Limbaugh — but again, none of these people are the President of the United States, to whom we somehow chose to give more power than anyone else in the nation, and in doing so, perhaps the world.

One other thing I noticed this time around, though, was that there are now a lot of people trolling Trump. More people who are anti-Trump than pro respond to his tweets these days, and there are people who do it relentlessly. Sometimes they have cogent arguments with evidence to support them, but a lot of the posts just include memes and name-calling. Then the MAGA people troll the trolls, and then other people troll them, and on and on, until all the yelling and insults surrounding his feed become a reflection of it. It’s sort like what our bot does, only we created our thing to purposely hold up a funhouse mirror to Trump’s tweets and point out their ugly absurdity, whereas this flow of comment bile just shows how he's actually reshaped so much of the way people “talk” about politics now into a warped reflection of himself. And yes, you can and must also blame the internet for that, and Newt Gingrich, and Steve Bannon, and Roger Ailes, but Trump is their golem, the ultimate manifestation of what we let them do, brought to life in such horrible fashion that many days it still doesn’t seem real to me. And then I go read his fucking tweets.

I used to think that if your average Republican — not his die-hard supporters, because I've given up on them — read his feed the way that I do, with all the repetition and lies and mistakes, and repetition of the lies and mistakes, over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and hopefully you get it now, they'd recognize how appalling it is that Trump is our president, and realize they can't vote for him in 2020. But now I think maybe they'd just see it all as normal, as the way we talk about issues, the way we talk about each other: us vs. them, good vs. bad, my truth vs. your truth because I make mine real, everything justified in this zero-sum conflict which is best expressed not in conversation, but in insults. And where do you go from there? 

[magnificent-dragons]

Supercorp The cook off

chili cook off/ first kiss fic

I just finished so there are probably some grammar and spelling and capitalization mistakes that i have yet to fix but i hope you enjoy

When Kara had found out that lena had never been to a cook off she found herself appalled a cook off was the best way to get food free in college it had helped make sure her huge appetite had not been noticed she had made it a tradition to go to as many as she could in her free time. So she ended up taking it personally. How could the billionaire have never been to one surely the rich and famous had to have some sort of cook off like function it would just be absurd not to. So Kara had decided that she would make sure the ceo experienced the best of what national cities cook off’s had to offer.

The two were in the park where the annual chili cook off was being held Kara was being her giddy self happy as could be to have managed to rope Lena into actually showing up. Lena caught on to the basics of what was going on without any explanation needed from Kara. She however had not expected to see so many people at the function. There had to be at least two or three hundred people at the park, people had set up tables for the event the park was decked out kids with balloons entertainment Lena had expected simply food but certainly not all of this though the social event was certainly a cheery place she could definitely see the sunny reporter regularly going to.

“ Lena look over there is that who i think it is?’ Kara’s excited voice broke Lena out of her thoughts and she looked over where the blond was pointing and there was Jess sitting next to her little daughter who from what lena could recall had just turned five. Jess may have been the only person Lena had confided in when it came to her crush on the puppy reporter and she may also have been the only one who dared tease the ceo about said crush.

“ NO it can’t be she wouldn’t” Lena bit her tongue trying to stop the rest of her train of thought from coming out of her mouth, Jess had been the only one she told about the cook off Kara was bringing her too Jess had never been much for chili.

“ What do you mean” Kara’s head was tilted and her eyebrows scrunched up in that adorable way they only did when she was confused about something.

“ It's just that Jess isn’t much for chili thats all I just think it’s rather odd that she would be at a cook off specifically for chili.” Lena tried to feign disinterest in the topic.

“ well let's go talk to her if that’s okay with you though” Kara slunk back into her slightly unsure demeanor that always came when she was worried she had done something wrong. Lena hated seeing her doubt herself so she could not help but indulge the blonde’s wishes.

“ sure let's go see her” Lena tries to seem excited to keep Kara’s mood up.

The two headed forward making their way through the crowds toward where Lena’s former assistant had set up with her daughter.  Jess’s daughter Nyla was sitting on the edge of the table swinging her legs Nyla had often been a visitor of Lena’s office before the move to national city. Kara managed to snake her hand into Lena’s as they made their way over Lena looked up at the slightly taller blond who was looking at their hands blushing slightly Lena could not help but smile at her and squeze her hand in reassurance that it was alright.

“ Miss Luthor I had no idea you would be here today!” Jess pretended to be surprised at the couple's appearance of course she had to come she needed to make sure Lena did not end up crashing and burning on her first date. She could not deal with another six months of pining after the blonde reporter. So she may have learned a few chili recipes so that she could compete as a reason to try and discreetly watch over the not quite date.

“ well Kara decided that I absolutely had to come to the cook off so here I am”

“ you had never been to one you can’t blame me for wanting you to experience normal people things.” Kara said pouting slightly at Lena in that way that the ceo could never argue with.

The three spent a few minutes talking before Lena decided she could not have Jess embarrassing her any more in front of her crush. And pulled Kara towards other tables to start trying some of the chili. Kara said only to take little from the first few tables so that she would not get to full to try any more of the chili so she sat down with her two half bowls of chili while Kara sat down with two full bowls. Lena knew Kara had to eat much more with her super metabolism and she would be lying if she said she had never wonderred what other super things Kara had. The two sat next to eachother hip to hip at a table most of the tables were being shared.

“ what do you think so far I hope I didn’t drag you into something you hate, if you hate it we can--” Lena cut Kara off mid ramble.

“It's fun Kara anything is enjoyable when I’m in your company” Lena said putting a reassuring hand on Kara’s arm and smiling at the blonde. They sat eating in silence for a while after that Kara still having remnants of a slight blush upon her cheeks. Lena let out a small moan as she took a bite of the second bowl Kara would be lying if she said she did not turn crimson at the sound.

“ Have you tried the second one it's delicious Kara” The ceo said looking over at the blushing blonde. She smiled at the blonde and could swear she saw Kara’s eyes flicker down to look at her lips, but it was probably just her imagination right.

“Not yet I will” she said immediately using just a smidge of super speed to try and finish her first bowl she managed to get some on the corner of her mouth without even noticing it. Lena could not help but chuckle at the site of the blonde who could never get through a meal without getting some of it on her face.

“ What is is there something on me” Kara said frantically checking her shirt and trying to wipe off her mouth. She managed to simply spread around the bit of chili that was on her.

“ You have a little” Lena motioned to her mouth and kara tried once again and failed to get the chili off.

“ Here let mle get that for you” Lena wet a napkin and gently brushed it over Kara’s face she slowly looked at Kara’s eyes as they both froze there leaned into each other Kara’s eyes flickering down to Lena’s lips she slowly leaned in to give Lena time to move if she did not want this. There lips met in an almost serene way it was not frantic or heated but simple and perfect warm and caring. Kara had imagined this moment more times than she would like to have admitted but this was so much better. Finally pulling away from each other they rested their heads together Kara smiling broadly at Lena. She did not  notice the paparazzo that took a picture of the two.

The two spent the day together at the cook off Lena may not have ever been to one before but she certainly loved them now. She would definitely have to go to another one whenever she got the chance. The two left hand in hand Lena managed to get one more goodbye kiss in at Kara’s door when she dropped the reporter off at her apartment and she  spent the ride back to her penthouse skimming her hands over her lips smiling at the thought that she had kissed Kara she had Kissed her.

The next morning a picture of the two’s kiss ended up on the front page of quite a few tabloids.

Thank you for reading this is my first fully supercorp fic i hope it was not to bad and once again i appologize for any mistakes.