#my original goal was to have peaceful summer and be friends when we get back but tbh im j hoping she decides over the summer to move out :D

[alittleemo]

genuinely love my friends so much <333 I love rehashing the same conversations over and over it literally never gets old :]

[xiaomoxu]

Lucien - Intimate Date

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

A date from CN server which hasn’t been released on EN server yet. Might contains some spoiler. Happy Qixi Festival~

Translations under the cut~

-

Whistle: Speaking of which, Mr. Lucien...

When the "whistle" spoke, I did not hear him clearly. He had to knock the steering wheel twice before I came back to my senses.

MC: Yes, what are you talking about?

Whistle: I said that this mission goal is rare to invite you to travel with. You must seize the opportunity and strive to completely gain his trust.

Whistle: You must record his destination, what he ordered on the train, and who he met.

MC: Yes, I remembered it.

My answer seemed to make him dissatisfied, and he looked at me warily through the rearview mirror.

Whistle: MC, It can't be... Are you tempted by that Mr. Lucien?

With a stern expression only face, I sat up straight up steeply.

MC: What are you kidding about, how can I be tempted by that kind of person?

Whistle: Hmm, you just have to know it.

There was no more words in the carriage, and the car continued to drive towards the train station. Looking at the bustling city outside the window, I tightened my lips.

How could I be tempted by Lucien?

If there is someone who fascinates me, it should...

I lowered my head and glanced at the book in my arms.

"Awakening" Snow fox.

ㅡThis "Snow Fox" who can guide me and give me strength first.

The first time I read Mr. Snow Fox's article, I seemed to be drunk, and all the confusion and perplexity I had been dispelled.

He used his pen as a knife to attack injustice and pave the way for peace.

He is a lonely walker with a torch in his hand, walking in the long dark night.

I am a small streamed firefly attracted by the hot flame, chasing this light silently.

Finally, with all efforts, I joined the organization of Mr. Snow Fox

Although I haven't seen his true face yet, but he once asked someone to forward me a book to encourage me.

MC: You are shimmer, you want to hide under the darkness.

I opened "The Awakening" and mumbled out a line of text on the title page—this was also a personal message from Mr. Snow Fox to me.

MC: I will never disappoint Mr. Snow Fox.

The car stopped by the train station, I put the book back in the secret compartment of the suitcase, and carefully sorted out my cheongsam.

The Whistle opened the door for me.

Whistle: For the last, check the mission target situation again.

MC: Okay.

Whistle: Who is your goal?

MC: Lucien.

Whistle: Who are you?

MC: Lucien’s blind date, which is a rich lady who has lived abroad since she was a child and returned to China for less than half a year.

Whistle: Your task.

MC: Monitor Lucien and find out his purpose of leaving Loveland City this time.

Whistle: Very good. One more thing, if there is a suitable opportunity in this trip...

Whistle: Kill him.

MC: Assassinate Lucien?!

This order was a little unexpected, and I couldn't help being taken aback.

Didn't the previous organization say that Lucien maintains the balance of the Loveland market and asks me to focus on surveillance and not to move?

MC: Why did you suddenly kill Lucien? Was it a temporary decision by the organization?

Whistle: What do you ask this for?

MC: Because this is contrary to my previous actions, so I want to confirm again...

Whistle: This is a private order from Mr. Snow Fox.

MC: Mr. Snow Fox...will give me a private order?!

My eyes widened in surprise, and when I wanted to ask a few more questions, a horn suddenly interrupted our conversation.

At the intersection not far away, three black cars approached us one after another.

The black goat logo on the front of the car was plated with a dazzling silver in the sun, like the cold light on the tip of a knife.

The original noisy street became extremely quiet, and only the tires made a slight rubbing sound on the ground.

The convoy drove slowly across the road, and after such a long distance, I still saw the clear profile face of the mission target in the car window at first glance.

It’s Lucien.

Whistle turned his face and saw Lucien's motorcade, and he frowned.

Whistle: You don't need to be too nervous, I will pretend to be an ordinary tourist at the next stop and sneak into the third-class carriage to meet you.

Whistle: Remember what I just said, once you find the opportunity to do it, use the transmitter in your suitcase to contact me.

Whistle: Okay, it's time to play, Miss MC.

MC: Mmhm.

I took a deep breath and got out of the car with a small suitcase.

The door of the middle car across the street also stopped at the same time. A group of black subordinates lined up, and one of them opened the door.

The first thing that catches my eye is a hand holding a cane. The fingers are white and slender, and the nails are neatly trimmed, like the hands of a literati.

Only the thin calluses at the knuckles indicate that this hand can hold a pen or a gun.

The owner of the hand, leaning on a jade cane, stepped out of his right leg first.

With his figure, it may be more suitable to wear a slim dress, but even if the gown is tightly wrapped, you can still see the straight and slender legs.

The silk gown bends like flowing wrinkles between his knees, and the dark lines on the satin surface reflect the shimmering light as he moves.

He raised his other hand again, took a trilby from the hand of his respectful subordinate and put it on his head.

In the silence, Lucien got out of the car slowly.

It was so quiet all around, it seemed that he was the only protagonist of this silent film.

And after Lucien's gaze slowly looked around, he finally stopped at my face across the street at this moment.

In an instant, his indifferent eyebrows were stained with the temperature of the early morning, and the lip line also bends in a pleasing arc.

Lucien: MC.

MC: Mr. Lucien

Obviously his appearance is so harmless, three points gentler than the teacher in the school.

But when I think of the rumors about this "Mr. Lucien" in the market, I still can't help but feel a palpitation.

He held back his subordinates and walked towards me with a smile.

Lucien: Sorry, did you wait for a long time?

MC: Fortunately, I also just arrived.

I took a step forward, trying to maintain my innocence and asked

MC: Mr. Lucien, where are we going this time, why would you think of inviting me with you?

Lucien: What we are going to is a very beautiful place. As for why I brought you...

Lucien: I think a smart girl like you shouldn't be surprised.

MC: You praise me like this, I'm so embarrassed.

MC: Now that Mr. Lucien decides to keep the sense of mystery, I will keep looking forward to it.

I reddened my cheeks pretending to be shy, but my heart was beating wildly because of the other party.

Whistle hurried to the trunk to help me take out the luggage, and Lucien also leaned down and naturally took the suitcase from me.

Then he straightened up, smiled and stretched out his other arm to me.

Lucien: Let's go.

MC: Okay.

I happily wrapped his arms, leaned my body against him-and walked towards the train station.

There is still a short distance from the start of the train. As VIPs, Lucien and I have already arrived in the luxury carriage in advance.

And after the whistle sent my luggage onto the train, he left immediately. Before leaving, he didn't forget to wink me a warning.

Lucien leaned on the sofa. He glanced at the back of the whistle through the window and whispered.

Lucien: Miss MC, your driver...

Subordinate: Mr. Lucien.

The subordinate's knock on the door interrupted Lucien's words, and he frowned slightly.

Lucien: Come in.

The subordinate walked in quickly and whispered something in Lucien's ear.

I tried to prick my ears, but I could only hear a few scattered words-"clue", "check", "eradication"....

While listening, I calmly poured myself a cup of scented tea.

As Lucien listened to the report of his subordinates, the corner of his mouth moved.

Lucien: Don't worry, continue to follow him.

Subordinate: Did you mean...

I don't know if it was my illusion, Lucien's eyes seemed to turn to me.

Lucien: If you want to do it, do it thoroughly.

Lucien: After all, an excellent hunter wants to lure the "Snow Fox" out of the hole, and it can't do without enough delicious bait.

Snow Fox!

Suddenly hearing these two words, my fingers trembled, and the scented tea almost spilled from the cup.

Lucien: Miss MC, what's wrong?

MC: No, nothing, my finger was accidentally scalded by the teacup for a moment.

Lucien: Let me see.

MC: It's okay, it's just hot.

But Lucien had already held my hand, his strength was very light but I couldn't refuse it.

The cool fingertips rubbed my red fingertips, bringing out an ambiguous itching.

He observed it carefully for a while and saw that there was nothing serious, so he pulled a white silk kerchief from his arms and wrapped it around my finger.

Lucien: The walls of this porcelain cup are relatively thin, so you will remember to put something on your hand next time you drink hot tea.

MC: Alright, I remembered it.

Lucien smiled at me, and lightly shook my fingers wrapped in the kerchief.

When he spoke again, his words were directed to his subordinates.

Lucien: Follow the previous plan. I hope to hear some good news when I get to the station.

Subordinate: Yes Sir.

At this time, the sharp siren finally sounded, steam gushing out, and the steel wheels began to move forward steadily.

The people on the platform waved their hands, saying their last blessings and goodbyes to their loved ones, lovers, and friends.

Amidst the hustle and bustle, there is also the persevering cries of newsboys, one after another, like cicadas in the late summer, so ear-piercing.

News Boy: Sell ​​newspapers! Take a look! Mr. Snow Fox's new work "Dark Night Flame" is on the market!

--

Before I knew it, I had been on this train for three days.

During these three days, I was not restrained and could walk around in the train at will. The scenery on both sides of the train was beautiful, and the companion accompanying me was considerate and gentle.

If it is said that the only flaw is that there is still no intelligence.

MC: Lucien...

This man is indeed too perfect and too tricky.

I sighed and looked at the figure on the platform unconsciously from the gap between the curtains.

The train will stop next to a small station, and Lucien is talking to the owner of the food stall, he looked gentle and humble.

He paid the money and was about to return to the car with the paper bag. Suddenly, a boy with a cart next to him slammed his feet and slammed forward, exclaiming.

Seeing that the cargo is about to collapseㅡ

Lucien's eyes were quick, and he held the cargo box with one hand and the boy with the other.

Lucien: You all right?

Boy: You are?! sorry! sorry!

When the boy saw that he almost hit a noble person, he trembled with fear and apologized again and again.

Lucien: Don't be so nervous, you didn't hit me either. Go ahead.

Boy: Thank you sir, thank you sir!

The cargo boy ran away without looking back, pushing the front of the car.

-It seemed like a small accident, but from my perspective, I clearly saw the cargo boy quickly stuffing a note into Lucien's hand when he left.

Why did Lucien use this method to deliver messages?

I watched Lucien's calm and composed face, and suspicions gathered in my heart. I raised my head  and met his gaze.

MC: ...!

I drew back abruptly, avoiding his sight.

Subordinate: Mr. Lucien?

Lucien: Nothing, go up, don't let the kids wait in a hurry.

After a while, Lucien appeared at the entrance of the carriage. He smiled and raised the paper bag to me as if nothing happened just now.

Lucien: Today is Chinese Valentine's Day, there happens to be a fruit seller in the station, wanna try it?

MC: Huh, today is Qixi Festival?

I couldn't help but froze. The spirit has been tense recently, but even the days have been somewhat forgotten.

Lucien: No wonder you forgot, it was my fault that kept you in the train for too long.

Lucien: But it doesn't matter if you forget these festivals, I will help you remember them.

When he made a promise, his brows were dazzling and his tone was solemn, as if he really was a caring beloved.

Lucien sat next to me and handed me the paper bag.

The small and lovely fruit inside exudes a fragrance, I picked up one and said with a smile to Lucien.

MC: "Begging every year is a coincidence in the world, and there are too many inhumanity in the world", my pleasure.

MC: Hmm... delicious!

MC: Mr. Lucien, do you want to taste it?

With a smile, I picked up another dessert and handed it to Lucien's mouth. He fixedly stared at me for a moment and bit it with a smile.

MC: How is it, isn't it delicious?

Lucien: Well, this is the first time I have eaten this kind of dessert. It is sweet and slightly salty, with a crunchy texture, and it tastes really good.

Lucien: What makes me even more happy is... You really like the taste of this hometown.

He just bit the word "hometown" a little bit harder, and it made my breath stagnate.

MC: I don't understand what Mr. Lucien's words mean.

Lucien: I remember that Miss MC who came back from studying abroad. Both your parents are abroad, right?

Lucien: It just so happened that my subordinates went to a country where Miss MC's parents, so I asked him to inquire a little bit.

Every time Lucien said a word, he leaned forward by a point, and the distance between us was closer.

His breath was burning, with the sweet fragrance of fruit, but it caused a chill in the back of my neck.

Lucien: In his reply to my telegram, he said...in the local area, there has never been such a family.

Lucien: So, Miss MC.

His hands are still cold, and when it touch me, it's like touching rare fragile objects.

His fingertips went from my brow bones, to eyelashes, to cheeks, and finally gently twisted away the fruit crumbs from the corners of my lips.

Lucien: Can you tell me who you are?

Silence flows between us. The train has not started yet. What can be heard is the shouting of the platform not far away, as well as the breathing and heartbeat close at hand.

As Lucien's breath enveloped me, there seemed to be a flame igniting in the place where he had just touched. I bit my lower lip and tried not to shift my sight.

MC: Is the answer to this question important to Mr. Lucien?

Lucien: Of course it is important.

MC: Why?

My question made Lucien raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Lucien: Haven't you noticed MC? You are a very important person to me.

MC: Haha, Mr. Lucien's words really flatter me.

tugged at the corners of my mouth stiffly, but my mind was spinning.

What does Lucien mean by "not found"? What does "very important" mean?

How much did he find out about my identity?

With Lucien's ability, as long as he catches any slight loophole in my words, it will be enough to destroy everything.

No, I can no longer answer any questions from Lucien.

It just so happened that the train whistle sounded again, and I put my hands behind me and pretended to pull the tablecloth inadvertently at the moment the train started.

The tea cup on the table swayed twice and poured in response. The remaining tea in the cup was spilled on me and Lucien.

I took the opportunity to sit up, lowered my head to help Lucien wipe his clothes, and apologized to him again and again.

MC: Oh, Mr. Lucien, I am sorry!

Lucien looked down at the tea stains on his silk shirt and smiled.

MC: I'm okay, but you have water stains on your body, so go back and clean it up.

As a pardon, I nodded and left immediately.

Lucien: By the way, I asked the train restaurant to prepare a candlelight dinner tonight, and I hope Miss MC will appreciate it.

MC: With Mr. Lucien's invitation, I will definitely be present in full dress.

Lucien: I believe MC, no matter how you dress it up, it will look good.

Lucien lifted the teacup on the table, seemingly inadvertently added another sentence.

Lucien: After all, such a good day as Qixi Festival cannot be easily let down.

I was sent back to my car by Lucien's subordinates. The moment I closed the door, I felt my strength slip away and plunged into the mattress.

MC: (sighed)

Being vigilant all the time makes me exhausted physically and mentally. Only when I’m in my car, I can breathe a sigh of relief.

My identity will be revealed sooner or later, and once exposed, would Lucien behave like a merchandiser who is pushing goods, showing me a touch of kindness?

Do I really have a fluke with Lucien like the whistle said?

I opened my eyes and slowly spread out my palms.

In the palm of my hand is the little note I just stole from Lucien.

There was a line written on it: Snow Fox is in the car, be careful.

At the moment when I saw these words, all kinds of scenes flashed past my eyes quickly.

Lucien: After all, an excellent hunter wants to lure the "snow fox" out of the hole, and it can't do without enough delicious bait.

Lucien: Haven't you noticed that you like ink? You are a very important person to me.

Could it be that... Lucien discovered that I was an organizer and wanted to use me as a bait to draw out the "Snow Fox"?!

Since this is the case, should I act first to be the best-obey Mr. Snow Fox's order and kill Lucien.

Snow Fox , Lucien...All the emotions in my heart are like a tangled mess. I can't help but reach out to the suitcase by the bed.

Across the wall of the box, the "Awakening" lay quietly there.

After a long time, I took a deep breath, sat up from the bed, and started preparing for the action tonight.

I first took out the wireless transmitter hidden in the suitcase and told the whistle that Lucien and I would have dinner in the dining car tonight.

Then quickly took off the pink dress and put on a purple cheongsam. Opened the secret compartment of the suitcase, took out a pistol from the inside and tied it to my thigh.

While putting on makeup, there was a knock from a subordinate outside the door.

Subordinate: Miss MC, Mr. Lucien is already waiting for you in the restaurant.

MC: Got it, tell Mr. Lucien that I will be there soon.

I put the lipstick back in the box and was about to get up when the light from the corner of my eye suddenly swept over something on the table.

It was the white handkerchief Lucien wrapped around my finger when I lied about being scalded.

When I returned to the car, I put it on the dressing table and didn't move it again.

Lucien's handkerchief is as simple as his clothes, and there is no other pattern except for the embroidered mark of his name on the corner of the handkerchief.

The moment I saw the handkerchief, Lucien's abrupt eyes suddenly appeared in my mind.

Why does a rumored "Mr. Lucien" who is obsessed with power and cruel, has such a pair of calm and sober eyes?

Obviously in my imagination countless times, only the "Mr. Snow Fox" in my mind would have such eyes.

MC: Mr. Lucien... is it really just Mr. Lucien?

I was shocked by the nonsense that I blurted out, and I took a step back abruptly.

I was a little flustered inexplicably. Just about to put away the handkerchief, my fingers suddenly felt strange bumps on the silk surface.

MC: Hmm??

I looked down and found that beside Lucien's name, there was a Morse code embroidered with silk threads of the same color.

I held my breath and fumbled for the code with my fingers, and finally found that they formed a words.

MC: My shimmer?

The setting sun outside the window was sinking, and the fluent sunset glow was gradually replaced by the night.

The lights are lit on each train, and the train shuttles through the mountains and forests like a golden dragon.

When I arrived in the restaurant, Lucien was still writing a letter at the table by the window.

When he saw me, he put away the half-written letter and smiled at me.

Tonight, instead of wearing the daytime gown, he changed into a slim-fitting suit, and his temperament became more capable and chic.

MC: Sorry to let Mr. Lucien wait for a long time.

Lucien: Compared to Cowherd who can solve the pain of lovesickness only once a year, I only waited a while for "Little Weaver Girl", considered to be very lucky.

Lucien: Have a seat

He opened the table seat for me, and I took a seat happily.

Lucien: How have you been on the train these days?

MC: Mr. Lucien seems to ask me this every day.

Lucien: Do you think I'm long-winded?

MC: No, this is your thoughtfulness, I like it very much, and I have had a good time these days.

MC: Even too comfortable, I don't want to get out of the train

Lucien: This is bad.

MC: What's wrong?

Lucien: After eating this dinner, we are almost arrived at the station. If MC don't want to get off the train, I can only use other methods to get you off.

I quickly glanced at the closed door of the dining car, settled, poured a glass of wine, and continued to laugh with Lucien

MC: What other method does Mr. Lucien want to use?

Lucien: It depends on what approach Miss MC likes.

MC: Me, of course I want more....

Before I finished speaking, the ground suddenly shook! A hot air wave overturned the railroad tracks and hit the carriage!

Before I had time to react, I felt like the sky was spinning.

The next second, I fell into a warm embrace.

Lucien: Ugh...!

Lucien held me firmly in his arms, but his whole body was knocked to the ground by the air wave.

The world in the carriage was upside down, and Lucien's letters and official documents on the table were scattered all over the

The ornate decorations turned into fragments, and the wine in the glass was spilled on the brocade like drips of red blood.

The disaster came without warning, and the steel giant leaned on the rails, uttering a heavy mournful cry.

I turned my face to look at the mess on the ground. The crying and screams from the front and rear carriages made my brain go blank.

MC: What exactly is going on...

Lucien: The train was blown up. It should be coming for me.

Lucien took me up with one hand, and with the other hand drew the pistol from his back.

The explosion plunged the train into chaos, and Lucien's subordinates was at the other carriages and it was too late to arrive.

He turned around and looked at the exit of the carriage warily, while admonishing me.

Lucien: MC, If the other party wants to cut the grass and roots, it is estimated that they will take the opportunity to return to the restaurant to confirm my life and death, you have to be careful....

The words after were swallowed back, because a gun was hitting his abdomen at the moment.

MC: Don't move.

Lucien's gaze moved up from the muzzle a little bit, fell to the hand of my gun, and finally stopped on my face.

For the first time, his eternally calm eyes rippled, and his lips opened slightly, and then he pressed tightly again.

In the next second, a smile suddenly appeared at the corner of his mouth.

Lucien: Miss MC wants to kill me.

Lucien's somewhat helpless expression made me feel embarrassed, as if I was just a little girl making trouble with her lover unreasonably.

MC: Why are you laughing?

Lucien: Nothing, the other side of MC really surprised me and couldn't help but laugh.

I glanced at him and opened his tie with the muzzle of my gun.

Then freed his other hand and groped his waist and chest roughly to make sure that there were no other weapons or wiretapping on him.

And Lucien opened his hands very cooperatively, as if he was at my disposal.

After searching, I glanced at the door again before turning my gaze back to Lucien.

MC: Mr. Lucien, before killing you, I want to ask you a question.

My fingers slowly touched his heart, and said word by word with an voice that only the two of us could hear.

MC: (Do you believe I will be shimmer?)

Lucien's eyes were suddenly bright, and he also answered me with his mouth.

Lucien: (From beginning to end.)

Bang!!

The moment his voice fell to the ground, I shot.

Lucien also slowly fell to the ground under the gunshot.

MC: ....

Holding the gun tightly, I kept my eyes locked on the doorway of the squeezed carriage.

Finally, after a while, a figure appeared at the door.

MC: Whistle..

Whistle: MC? You didn't...

MC: I was lucky, and it happened to be blocked by the sofa when it exploded.

Whistle: Y-Yes...what about Lucien?

MC: Didn't you hear the gunshot just now, I've finished him.

MC: Whistle, You seem to have expected this explosion?

The whistle glanced at Lucien, who was motionless, then glanced at me, his mouth suddenly grinned from an arrogant angle.

Whistle: Of course, this is my plan.

As he said, the hand of the whistle rose sharply, and the black hole pointed straight at me.

Whistle: Because you and "Snow Fox" both have to die.

However, before he had time to pull the triggerㅡ bang! A gunshot sounded faster!

Lucien: Finally bit the bait.

Lucien, who was lying on the ground, opened his eyes. He slowly sat up with a gun in one hand, looking at the whistle for an instant.

Whistle: You..

The man's eyes were full of things, his shrunken pupils were printed with the figure of me and Lucien standing side by side.

When he was about to attack again, the sound of footsteps came from both ends of the dining car. Lucien's subordinates who had survived the explosion finally rushed over and subdued him to the ground.

Subordinate: Mr. Lucien, are you okay!

Lucien: I'm fine.

Lucien: Apart from this person, there must be other pests in this train. Clean it up immediately.

Lucien: Also, immediately contact the headquarters and the nearest hospital, check the conditions of the front and rear carriages, and take all passengers out of here.

Subordinate: But you...

Lucien: Hurry up.

The subordinates' throats stagnated, and they didn't dare to defy him, dragging the seriously injured whistles towards the two carriages.

There were only two of us in the carriage at this moment, and Lucien turned his eyes back to me after watching the last subordinate leave.

Lucien: I just saw, Miss MC's acting is a little bit flamboyant, and she still needs a lot of polishing.

I didn't reply immediately, just stared at Lucien firmly.

At this moment, Lucien's face was strangely clear in the twilight, eyebrows, lips, cheeks... finally merged with "Snow Fox".

MC: ...Mr. Snow Fox's acting skills are outstanding, and the little girl is deeply impressed.

Lucien smiled deeper, and he carefully helped me straighten my temples.

Lucien: When did you discover that the whistle had a problem?

MC: From the beginning. When he faked "Snow Fox" orders and asked me to assassinate you, I began to doubt him.

MC: But at that time I was still not sure about his motives, then...

I took out the handkerchief, and picked up the letters scattered on the ground—the writing on it was exactly the same as the writing in "The Awakening" message.

MC: Did you also find out that there is a problem with the whistle from the beginning?

Lucien shook his head.

Lucien: No. I only found out that he had betrayed the organization and he also found out that I was Snow Fox.

MC: Then when you first got in the car, you said you wanted to get rid of "Snow Fox"....

Lucien: In addition to the whistle, there are other inner ghosts.

Lucien: I arranged this train and wanted to use this excuse to catch them all.

Lucien: But I didn't expect these people to blow up the train in order to get rid of me.

This is a journey of life and death. In the confrontation between righteousness and evil, everyone's identities are constantly changing.

Everyone feels that he is a hunter and the other is a prey. Lucien the Snow Fox. Whistle the traitor.

ㅡOnce Lucien dies on the train, the entire Loveland City may face a bloody storm.

When Lucien said this, his voice became more and more apologetic.

Lucien: I insisted on taking you in the train, because I was afraid that you would be silenced by the whistle while I was away. As a result, I almost made you fall into danger with me. Sorry.

MC: I am not afraid of danger, darkness must accompany danger, I just... a little angry.

Lucien: Why are you angry?

I blushed, and finally threw the gun to him, hold my breath to say the words.

MC: You... the big liar who always talks around the bush!

Lucien laughed loudly. The first time I heard him smile so clear, it was like the early morning when the clouds saw the sun.

He took me to the side of the carriage, supported the window with one hand, and dexterously take off from the carriage.

MC: What are we going to do?

Lucien: There is much more to be done.

Lucien: "Snow Fox" can disappear, but Lucien still has to exist.

Lucien: We have to continue this scene until the darkness fades.

He stretched out his hand to me outside the train. I held his hand and felt the solid strength of his arm.

MC: You are talking around the bush again.

Lucien: Hmm... Would you like to hear me say something less convoluted?

MC: Of course I do.

The glow in the distant mountains has long since faded, and the long night is approaching, and the wilderness will rise from the starting point of the firefly.

Lucien's eyes are brighter than stars and fluorescent lights.

He smiled and took me out of the trainㅡ

Lucien: It happens MC for me, it is indeed a very important person

Lucien: I am very satisfied with the result of this blind date, how about you?

--

Notes from me: You’ve done reading~ thank you for always read Lucien’s date~ I really love the interaction between MC and Lucien in this date, the way Lucien always want to protect MC and MC who wants Lucien’s kindness, is really make my heart fluttered. Again, thanks a bunch for everyone, HAPPY QIXI FESTIVAL!  (*≧ω≦*)

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

I’m guessing all Vmins were right Sweet night is about the past. I guess it’s why Tae give it for the movie instead of for his mixtape. I’m guessing JM gave him the ok to do so and why he’s been silent about it cause it’s over between them. TK are making it too obvious. jk treating JM like they aren’t friends suddenly. jk in purple/green all the time. v not shutting up about jk suddenly. JM is not handling it well. I guess it’s why v said he likes JM the most (guess as friend) cause he feels bad

Admin 1: “Sure, go and release a song easily identified as being about us and your hope of me giving you a second chance with a hopeful ending seeing as we aren’t together anymore, sounds like a nice idea to me. Go, Taehyungie, do it. Then also let me hold your hand on national TV and show it to the cameras happily, smile sweetly at you while we stand next to the president, talk about our song and memories and how much they mean to me, perform this song that's essentially a love letter to our bond in a live-streamed concert for almost 800k people, and when you tell me you like me the most, I’ll say I like you a lot as well. Because we’re over and not even friends anymore.” Sounds like some sound logic to me, and I mean that in the most sarcastic way possible to humans.

Honestly, either I’ve just been around too long and all these asks are starting to sound the same and impossibly uncreative, or they are just getting more farfetched and bizarre. If you want a proper answer, I told you, bring something to the table that hasn’t been talked to dust yet, or leave it be.

To quote Tae, the man who knows best what he feels: 95z is love.

Until he (and Jimin) changes his mind, this is the answer I have for any and all Xkooker ask, as well as any other ship involving Tae or Jimin.

Also yes, I did see the hate against Jimin that exploded yesterday, we even have an ask about it in our inbox, and honestly these types of questions, anon? Yeah, you're not helping, in fact, you are part of the problem, just saying.

Admin 2: Man, man, man!

We didn't really want to answer these types of questions anymore, but this ask takes the trophy when it comes to delulu/nonsensical questions, so I decided to answer it after all. Because it’s hot and I need a distraction.

Also, this question basically confirms most of our suspicions we’ve had so far. Let me explain.

Folks, who is behind these kinds of stories which are being presented and preached as truth on various sns?

I don't believe this is any single persons invention (in this case, that anon came up with this idea “without help”), if anything it’s the result of delulu, and often times toxic, scenarios and stories created by a group of people intended to further a narrative and actively disrupt the “peace” within ARMY (or at least that’s what it feels like since all these things do is ignite hate and toxicity). Where is the origin of it all? Ship centric YouTube channels.

It is very evident that these "imaginative creators/shippers" behind those videos have no consideration of the consequences and harm their content does because, in my opinion, the more controversial and clickbait-y, the better. You know why? More views means more money, which is the goal of it all. We’ve spoken about this before, I believe, how these videos on “ship evidence” and “ship drama” for Xkookers are the most beloved topics of these videos and thus make up one of the easiest means of generating income, in some cases even something upward of $80k a year depending on the channels CPM, sub and view count.

The average person has to work hard all year round to make this amount of money, if they even have a job that brings in that much. So, it is not surprising that these content creators go very far in their fantasies to support their claims and keep their viewers/costumers engaged and coming back.

I wouldn't be surprised if the creators (or rather the whole lot of them) of both Xkook camps are basically the same people, because their ideas, conclusions and explanations all sound the same and follow the same nonsensical patters. Which is why we’ve already told you many times that the best thing you can do is stay away from this type of content altogether.

So! Let's analyze this ask a little more:

"…Vmins were right Sweet Night is about the past. I guess it’s why Tae give it for the movie instead of for his mixtape."

Ok, let's say Tae wrote "Sweet Night" for Jimin, but in the meantime he has changed his feelings (that's how I understand the question) so he gave the song to the Itaewon Class OST instead of putting it on his mixtape. I wanted to note that Taehyung's mixtape isn't finished yet and we will probably wait many more months for it.

It seems to me that Taehyung really wanted to show his feelings to the world, so he saw an opportunity with the OST, and therefore a quicker release for SN, and took it. The fact is that SN is about the past, but there is also hope for the future, hope for the fulfillment of wishes, which likely did come true judging by how Tae said he wrote SN during tour abroad (so sometimes summer/early autumn 2019 perhaps) and we saw vmin holding hands at the airport on Tae’s birthday in 2019 when they thought no one would see, just three months before SN was released (and likely long schedules for said release since these types of things don’t just happen overnight) and many, many other such things.

“I suspect that JM gave him his consent and why he kept silent about it because it was over between them, TK makes it too obvious. "

And I suspect that Jimin was very touched by Sweet Night and ultimately wrote Friends in which him and Tae sing: “Many promises and memories / and more to come / Someday, when these cheers die down, stay hey / You are my soulmate”

The fact is that BTS didn't say much about SN, but it was the same with many of their other SC releases as well, so it wasn’t unusual, especially since SN came out while they were promoting MOTS7. Also, in my opinion, the content of this song is too personal to be able to describe/discuss the song in detail beyond the bit that was mentioned during Tae’s vlive with Namjoon. During a Japanese interview, the members basically confirmed/pointed out how romantic Tae is and when SN came up, Namjoon “coincidentally” turned around toward Jimin who has a similar facial expression of pressed lips as he did during Let’s BTS.

"JK treats JM as if they suddenly weren't friends"

And here I have caught you, dear anon. I think you're not even looking at the original BH content, but that instead you are basing your conclusions and opinions on manipulative YT ship videos instead because if you would’ve watched the original content like RUN, the recent SOWOOZOO concerts, and interviews, you wouldn’t arrive anywhere near such thoughts and conclusions.

Jimin and JK are still close, also Jimin calls JK his little brother (dongsaeng) and JK describes Jimin (or associates these words with him) as charm and cute. Does there seem to be any kind of conflict between Jimin and Jungkook? Certainly not, no.

„JK always in purple / green. v not shutting up about jk suddenly."

You mean their microphone colors? I wanted to point out how Tae wore a yellow shirt during the concert, which is the same color as the chick emoji ARMY associates with Jimin as well as his mic color. LOL.

As far as I know, when Tae has something to say, he will say it, and if he is praising JKs songs, and especially You Eyes Tell which we know is a song Tae liked a lot, that is a good thing. It simply means Tae appreciates the song JK created, appreciates and values his talents and hard work. If the entire band praises Namjoon and his lyrics/contributions on their songs, does that automatically also mean all six are “not shutting up about him” and therefore must be in love and in a relationship with him, or it’s an indicator of it? If anything, it’s merely an indicator that Tae is an honest person and JK did a good job on those songs. Easy as that.

That's my favorite part of the question: "JM doesn't handle it that well. I think that's why I said he likes JM best (as a friend, I guess) because he feels bad."

Personally, I consider myself a person with a great imagination, but I wouldn't really come up with a scenario like that.

How cruel of a person do you think Tae is? Imagine they aren’t together anymore or close anymore, or whatever else you tried to insinuate anon, and then Tae would go on national TV and do this whole thing of asking for the card in his letter to Jimin to be blurred and then said “Jimin-ah I like you the most”? To do something as hurtful as that you either have to be a sadist or an asshole and I’d like to believe even you, anon, don’t think in such a way about Tae, of all people.

Perhaps that’s something dumb teenagers or kids would do, but not adult men in their mid-twenties who see each other every single day, are part of the same team and have to work with each other. This is real life, not a soap opera. If these types of dramas really would be happening within BTS, they would’ve stopped existing as a band a long time ago because no one would be able to live with such actions and people for a prolonged amount of time. BTS are grown men, best friends, even found family, and not actors on a badly written TV show for our entertainment where they act out increasingly stupid relationship drama in which JK somehow ended up being the toy going from hand to hand like he’s not even an actual person anymore.

In summary, this question was written by a child, teenager, or an emotionally immature person naïve enough to buy into outlandish ship narratives.

Anon, hear what the members had to say during FESTA 2021. Make your own conclusions and stop watching and believing the nonsense on YouTube. As Tae said: Get out of your imagination. It’s not good in there.

[cozy-the-overlord]

Dances and Daggers

Summary:   The Summer Festival is upon Asgard, as is the tradition of the dagger ceremony, where each unmarried gentleman chooses a lady to bestow with the honor of carrying his dagger for the night. As Prince Thor’s betrothed, Teki’s only goal is to accept his dagger with grace and hope that her violent stepfather doesn’t find fault with her in the process. But Prince Thor is unpredictable, and when he ignores his engagement on a whim Teki finds herself in a desperate situation. Luckily, Thor isn’t the only prince in Asgard…

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Chapter 10: The Consequences

Previous Chapter  |  Next Chapter

Word Count: 2,249

Chapter Summary: Teki deals with the fallout from the sparring pit.

A/N:  Warning: this chapter includes descriptions of violence. It's not a incredibly long scene, but if that's not something you're comfortable reading, please be aware. 

Thanks for reading! :)

TW: Violence, child abuse

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae

if you want to be tagged, feel free to just send me an ask! :)

Read it on Ao3!

Loki may have called after her—Teki wouldn’t have been able to tell. She barely had the coherence to keep herself from running into anything, barely had the coherence to keep moving forward.

One foot, two foot, one foot, two foot

He’s going to kill you, Tekla.

She ran, ran from the rumors that were likely already taking seed, from the humiliation that awaited her at dinner, from the punishment her stepfather would bring when he returned home.

Embarrassment.

Failure.

Disgrace.

Her stomach was churning, her vision tearing up, but she didn’t stop, couldn’t stop.

Just wait until he gets back.

Wait until he hears.

He’ll kill you.

You’re dead, Tekla.

Her foot caught the hem of her dress and she tumbled head over heels into the grass, smacking her forehead against the ground. For a moment, she just lay there, panting and coughing her lungs out while her mind raced to catch up with her body.

Dead dead dead dead dead dead—

It was nice, lying there in the grass. It smelled like dirt—not in a bad way, more like the clean, fresh, earthy dirt smell that fills the air during the spring, when everything’s crisp and green. For a while, she just laid there, drowning in the scent of the terrain.

Dying here wouldn’t be too bad.

Teki wasn’t certain how long she was there—for all she knew, it could’ve been years. She sat up slowly, painfully, still trembling like a leaf. Somehow, she had ended up on the opposite side of the gardens, nearer to the lake than to the sparring pit—

(“I think they had been swimming”)

Teki choked back a sob.

She had to go back. If she wasn’t home in time for dinner, her mother would send someone looking for her, and that would be more humiliating than any rumor floating around. Slowly, she pulled herself to her feet.

There were grass stains on her skirt. She tried to wipe them off, but the angry streaks of green weren’t going anywhere. Mama’s going to be mad about that…

Don’t think about it, she told herself. Just go home. Go home before anyone else sees you.

She prayed to the Norns that Osvald wasn’t back yet.

For once, it seemed the Norns actually listened. The apartment was empty when Teki returned. She had just enough time to change dresses and fix the rat’s nest that was her hair before her mother came back with Brant in tow. Just hearing her blather on about how excited she was to talk to everyone at dinner was enough to make the pounding in Teki’s ears return.

“Can I stay home, Mama?” she whispered. “I don’t feel good.” It wasn’t a lie. In fact, Teki was certain she was going to be sick any minute.

But still, her mother frowned. “What do you mean? You were fine this morning.”

“I know, I just—”

“You’ve already missed so many dinners, Tekla. People will begin to think you an invalid.”

Maybe if you let me go to the healers when I was hurt…

But Teki bit her tongue. It wasn’t worth it. It was never worth it, but especially not tonight.

“Please, Mama,” she begged. “I’m not hungry. I just want to lie down.”

Her mother fixed her with a warning glare. “Tekla…”

Teki sighed, bracing herself to lose yet another battle, but Brant interrupted.

“But what if she makes Prince Thor sick?” he asked, looking up at their mother.

She seemed startled. “What?”

“If Teki—” he stopped himself before she had the chance to correct him, “If Tekla is sick, and she goes to dinner and sits next to Prince Thor, then Prince Thor might get sick too.” His expression was innocent enough, but there was a sparkle in his blue eyes that said he knew exactly what he was doing. “What if that happened?”

Teki could’ve kissed him.

Osvald came back only a little while after her mother and Brant left for dinner, when Teki was already in bed. She pretended to be asleep when he opened her bedroom door and looked in. Really, she half expected him to start yelling at her then and there, but instead he sighed, slamming the door gracelessly as he exited.

Teki let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She was safe, at least for one more day.

Maybe more than one. The next morning, she crept down the stairs slowly, keeping her eyes down as she slipped into her seat across from Brant, bracing herself for a violent breakfast. Her family barely looked up from their plates.

“Are you feeling better today, Tekla?” her mother asked absentmindedly as she cut her eggs.

Teki stared at her for a while before answering, waiting for the blowup. They had to have heard something. There was no way Thor’s friends had kept that delicious joke of theirs from the rest of court. But both Osvald and her mother were blithely chewing away at their food as if nothing had ever happened.

“Yes,” she finally whispered uncertainly. “I’m feeling much better.”

“Good.” Her mother dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “You’ve missed far too many dinners this summer. We don’t want the court to keep seeing you as a sickly little girl.”

They don’t know.

She didn’t know how it was possible, but somehow, they hadn’t heard about what happened at the sparring pit.

…

Really, it seemed no one had. Teki had expected to hear whispers in the hallways, knowing looks and muffled laughter as she made her way to the royal platform at dinner that night, but no one said a thing. When she sat down, Thor gave her a sympathetic glance before returning to ignoring her as usual. To say she was confused was an understatement.

Still, she decided not to push it. She spent the meal with her gaze firmly fixed on the plate in front of her, not budging an inch until it was time to go home. She didn’t dare to look down the table at Loki.

Neither did she risk continuing her daily pilgrimage to watch the warriors train. She spent her days helping Brant with his reading, tucked away in her room as she ignored the dread swirling in a constant cloud above her head. He was getting pretty good at it, although he seemed more interested in the “secret” map he was continuously working on than practicing his letters.

But Teki couldn’t hide in her apartment forever. Word came that the Queen wished to see her in her quarters. And so, an obedient machine, she packed up her music and drifted through the hallways in a fog.

When she entered, Frigga patted the cushion on the sofa next to her. “Before you play, Tekla,” she said. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Oh no.

Teki made her way to the Queen on wobbling knees. Frigga had the same gentle smile she always wore for her, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was going to go very badly. She perched herself rigidly on the edge of the cushion, hands folded in her lap to keep them still.

“I hear you and Loki have become very good friends—”

She whipped up in a panic. “I didn’t—I swear—Your Majesty, I—”

“It’s all right darling, you’re not in trouble!” Frigga soothed, her voice carrying nothing but soft reassurance. “I’m glad you and Loki get along so well. I know Thor isn’t always…” she hesitated, “The most welcoming he could be. I’m happy you feel comfortable with one of us, at least.”

Teki stared at her hands. Her heart was thudding in her throat. Frigga didn’t seem upset, which was a relief, but more frightening questions lurked on the horizon. If the Queen knew, did that mean Osvald did as well?

Frigga rubbed her shoulder. “I can only imagine how hard it must be to be engaged to someone who seems so different from you,” she continued, still smiling warmly. “Which is why I’m relieved to see you’ve found common ground with Loki. Now, is everything all right?”

She gulped. “Why wouldn’t it be, my Queen?”

“Loki told me about what happened at the sparring pit. He said you were very upset. He was quite distraught over it,” she took Teki’s hands in her own. “You have nothing to fear from us, Tekla. I hope you realize that.”

You’re not the ones I fear. But Teki nodded just the same.

“I do, my Queen,” she whispered.

Frigga beamed. “I’m glad to hear it.” She motioned to the piano. “Would you like to play a bit now?”

…

Until Osvald walked in, the afternoon had been peaceful. Teki was curled up on the couch with Brant, looking over his shoulder as he stumbled through reading aloud from his favorite storybook. Her mother was seated at the table, doing her needlework. The familiar haze that came with the end of the day had fallen over all three of them, and Teki had been finding it difficult to keep her eyes open.

But then Osvald cleared his throat, and the tranquility crumbled to the floor.

Teki sprang to her feet, whipping around to face him where he stood by the door, glittering eyes fixed on her. Her heartbeat froze in her throat. She knew that look.

He knows.

Her mother knew that look too. “Brant,” she said sharply. Her little brother’s book had slipped from his hands and to the floor. He sat on the couch shivering, blue eyes already swimming in tears. She stood, beckoning him. “Come here.”

When Brant didn’t move, she raised her voice. “Brant, come here.”

Haltingly, her brother stumbled across the room to her mother’s outstretched hand. Teki wanted to follow, but her feet were rooted to the wooden floor. All she could do was cast a desperate look to her mother as she pulled Brant out of the room. Please don’t leave. Please don’t leave me with him.

Her only response was the sound of her footsteps clodding up the stairs.

Her stepfather waited for the sound of the bedroom door closing before he spoke.

“I just heard a very interesting story.” He approached her slowly, each step heavy and deliberate, a lion stalking his pray. “Do you know what I heard, Tekla?”

Her breath was coming in quick bursts, her mouth too dry to make a noise. She could only shake her head.

“I heard that Prince Loki spent the night of his Nameday Feast cavorting about the palace gardens with a young girl, completely unchaperoned.” Teki pressed her eyes closed, as if that could block him out. “And do you know who this girl was?”

Again, she could only shake her head.

“No?” Osvald feigned surprise. “Ask me, then.”

Her tongue was like sandpaper. “Who—who was it, sir?” she whispered hoarsely.

“Tekla Osvalddottir,” he spat the name as if it disgusted him to say it. “That’s what they said. Tekla Osvalddottir. My daughter. Betrothed to the Crown Prince, frolicking around with his younger brother like a common whore.” He glowered above her. Teki kept her gaze down, staring at his polished boots as she struggled against the tears. “And I said ‘that can’t be true. Not my Tekla.’ Isn’t that right?”

He grabbed her chin, yanking her head up so she had no choice but to look into his blazing eyes. “Tell me it’s not true. Look at me and tell me it’s not true.”

She gulped for air, losing the battle as the tears trickled from the corner of her eyes. “It’s not true,” she wheezed.

The blow hit her right in the left temple. For a moment, her vision blacked out. With a cry, Teki crashed against the floor.

“Liar.” He kicked the side of her head. Pain exploded across her skull, psychedelic colors dancing across her eyesight. She smacked her cheek against the wooden floorboards. “Is this what I’ve raised? A lying, ungrateful little harlot?”

Her mouth was coated in the coppery flavor of blood, burning her throat when she tried to swallow. She struggled to pull herself into the fetal position, but he got a kick into her ribcage before she could manage it.

“Do you have nothing to say for yourself?” he asked, moving behind her as she shuddered on the floor

“I’m sorry!” she sobbed.

“What was that?”

Her throat burned. She choked on her own breath. “I’m sorry!”

Osvald grabbed her from behind by the collar of her dress, yanking her backwards to her knees. His whisper was hot on the back of her neck.

“Go to your room. Now.” He threw her back on to the ground on to her stomach. “If I see your face before dinner, I promise you won’t be able to fucking move for a month.” Teki didn’t have to be told twice. Stumbling, she lurched forward, scrambling up the stairs on all fours like an animal. She barely made it to her bedroom before she completely collapsed, a coughing, gasping mess sprawled out on the rug. Her head was pounding, her brain pulsing with her every move. It was so bad, she almost didn’t hear her mother’s question to Osvald outside her door.

“You didn’t bruise her face, did you? She’s missed too many dinners, we can’t afford for her to miss again—”

Teki didn’t catch her stepfather’s reply. She curled up into a ball and sobbed.

[bookish-mbti]

Some Frasier MBTI types

Scott has gotten me into watching Frasier and these characters are satisfyingly typable, so I wanted to make a post elaborating on the MBTI types of the Crane brothers.

Frasier Crane | ENFJ

Frasier’s functional stack is easily readable and because of it, he is a fantastic example of an ENFJ. The outer world and social structures are what defines Frasier’s reality.

Frasier exists in the outer world of established external structures, measurements of value, and social status. He appreciates things that can be thought of as impressive based on external reference, even such as the items he so values in his apartment: “This lamp by Corbusier, the chair by Eames, and this couch is an exact replica of the one Coco Chanel had in her Paris atelier.” He likes things that are socially recognized to be impressive or renowned.

ENFJs also use auxiliary Ni, and as such, Frasier is very insightful and thrives when guiding individuals towards their best path and potential. His radio show allows him to do this on a broader scale with a wider audience, while also allowing him to fulfill his role in a way noticeable externally within the societal structure he values. Fe-Ni tends to work with groups of people such as a classroom as a teacher, and in Frasier’s case, it is his radio show.

Se is tertiary in Frasier. ENJs, though they are not Se dominant, are often very action-based. This advice from Frasier, in my opinion, exemplifies healthy use of an ENFJ’s functions: “Six months ago, I was living in Boston. My wife had left me, which was very painful. Then she came back to me, which was excruciating. On top of that, my practice had grown stagnant, and my social life consisted of... hanging around a bar night after night. You see, I was clinging to a life that wasn’t working anymore, and I knew I had to do something, anything. So, I ended the marriage once and for all, packed up my things, and moved back here to my hometown of Seattle. I took action. And you can, too. Move, change, do something; if it’s a mistake, do something else.”

Tertiary Se is more noticeable than inferior and ENJs may score surprisingly high on Se, caught between their penchant for deriving meaning and passion for making their dreams realities.

Frasier is sensitive to criticism, which comes from inferior Ti. When he is criticized in a column in the Times with the simple statement “I hate Frasier Crane,” he can’t help but feel as though it is an unwarranted personal attack. Ti is a function based in impartial analysis and criticism of structures or methods, completely independent of people and in conflict with an Extraverted Feeling approach.

Further, after he is sold a false piece of artwork, he is infuriated by the injustice, the blatant lack of regard for ethics. His idealism that people are good, respectful, and care for the well-being of others (Fe-Ni) is shattered. He keeps grasping for some way others and systems may help him—first through calling the police, and then by considering hiring a lawyer. When both Martin and Niles say it isn’t worth it and when Martin tells him that sometimes bad things happen in life and there’s nothing you can do, Frasier has immense trouble coping with the concept. Feeling dominants often run into conflict with the approaches of the Thinking functions, which they perceive to be cold, heartless, and, in the more extreme, immoral.

Another characteristic of Frasier’s inferior Ti can be seen in the second episode, when he is still adjusting to his father and Daphne moving in with him. In the case of an inferior Ti eruption episode, Fe dominants become uncharacteristically cold and withdrawn. In this episode, Frasier is perturbed by all of the ways Martin and Daphne have infiltrated the life he worked to build for himself. He is uncharacteristically in a bad mood, seeking solitude, and short with understanding; his tertiary Se is used defensively to defend his uncharacteristic, self-based need for solitude by saying that since the situation isn’t working out now in the present moment, then there is no hope of it getting better and he should change something about it.

Niles Crane | INFJ

Niles’ function stack is also one that is very readable and makes him a great example of an INFJ.

While he is similar to his older brother, there are some distinct differences. Where Frasier’s typical impulse is to seek out others and talk to them, in need of feedback, Niles is more private and withdrawn, mulling over things internally before externally voicing a conclusion. Where Frasier thrives navigating the social world and being a prominent face in the community, Niles considers his radio show “pop psychiatry” and values a more typical setting where he can see patients one-on-one rather than seeking a broad audience and outward recognition. This is not to say that Extraversion and Introversion have to do with sociability or ability to perform in front of an audience—Niles frequently holds group therapy sessions and workshops etc.—but than IFJs and EFJs tend to differ in their natural preferences. EFJs like to immerse themselves actively in a society and have engagement and involvement. IFJs don’t require this external feedback or engagement, and many times like to help others in more controlled, individual sessions.

One example Niles’ Ni is evident is after he and Frasier see their father having dinner with an old family acquaintance. They remember that her family used to be close to theirs until one summer they had a falling out and were no longer acquainted. The next day, Niles arrives at Frasier’s apartment and announces he had been doing some thinking, wondering why their father was with that woman, so he dug up his old childhood journal and an old photo album their late mother had put together. In the journal around the time they remembered the family friends having a falling out, Niles had written that he had seen his father and her in each other’s arms. In the photo album photos from that summer, there were multiple photos with a woman cut out of them. With these things brought to attention, Niles suggests a theory that their father had an affair. This is Ni—seeing something, mulling it over, connecting separate pieces, and arriving at a conclusion. Frasier first strikes down the accusation, saying there isn’t enough evidence. Again, this is Niles’ Ni—the connections he has made are based on internal thought processes, not totally tangible, but make sense in his linear internal logical deductions based on a couple of pieces of evidence. Ni can derive insight and theory based on minimal things in reality and is not dependent exclusively on what is experienced through the senses.

Another example of Niles’ being his type, and perhaps a good example of how INFJs tend to offer advice in general, can be seen in this conversation between him and Frasier in episode 2.

Frasier: Niles, I don’t know what I’m going to do. Dad and I had another fight. I’m afraid if we stay under the same roof together we’ll do irreparable harm to the relationship we have as it is.

Niles: Well, what are the alternatives?

Frasier: Well, if I didn’t feel so guilty I’d, I’d do what I should have done in the first place: just move dad and Daphne into their own apartment.

Niles: Oh, for goodness sake, Frasier. It hasn’t been that long, you have to give it a chance. And you might remember why you moved him in in the first place.

Frasier: Refresh me.

Niles: You wanted to get closer to dad.

Frasier: I still do. There isn’t anything I’d like more, but he makes it impossible. I can’t read my book, I can’t have my coffee, I can’t have any peace in my own home.

Niles: So what you’re saying is, you want to be closer to dad, but you don’t actually want him around. Ask yourself Frasier, have you tried to sit down and talk to him—I mean, really talk to him?

Frasier: Well, I... Maybe I haven’t done my best. I guess I owe that to the old man, don’t I? Well, ah, thanks for the chat, Niles. You’re a good brother, and a credit to the psychiatric profession.

Niles’ dominant Ni urges Frasier to see past the interpersonal rifts and down to the heart of what matters most, which was Frasier’s original goal: to become closer to his father. Conflict that seems unsolvable through talking it out is a trigger to Fe dominants, and as such, it was hard for Frasier to see past it. Niles’ Ni reminds him of the goal despite this conflict, as Ni as a dominant function is more zoomed out and big-picture; while Niles too uses Fe and is people-focused, he primarily views the world through Ni, which sees things outside of the framework of relationships, whereas Frasier’s dominant Fe was stuck seeing only the relationships and the conflict within them and he forgot the original goal. Additionally, Niles’ use of Ni prompts Frasier to point his own auxiliary Ni at himself and remind himself of his personal responsibility and purpose to the situation with his father.

Niles’ inferior Se is noticed more comically, such as how he doesn’t remember meeting Roz even after he has met her multiple times, nor does he remember where they met. Ni is a very internally-based function, and with inferior Sensation, Ni dominants can have trouble recalling concrete information about their surroundings or people they come into contact with in the external world. Another example of an INJ’s inferior Se can be seen when Niles is gripping shortly after his divorce. He begins to date someone completely opposite from his normal temperament and is impulsive, spontaneous, and doesn’t give any deep thought to his actions or the purpose for these actions. He stays out all night, drinks more, plans a trip with his new girlfriend to another country. It is all very out of character for him, which happens when an INJ is gripping—usually notoriously inert and cerebrally-based, they become active and spontaneous in the outer world, over-indulging in sensory activities.

[lawrenceop]

HOMILY for Pentecost Sunday

Acts 2:1-11; Ps 103; Gal 5:16-25; John 15:26-27,16:12-15

There are certain things that are so important, so essential, that we can take them for granted. Our parents, for example, have always been there for us. Or to use an example that is very topical, the very act of breathing and being able to take a breath with ease. Many of us in the past year will have become more aware of the gift of being able to breathe freely. The masks we wear remind us of every breath we take, especially if you wear glasses like I do. And of course, if you’ve watched the news, seen documentaries about the pandemic, or if you’ve read about the situation facing people in our hospitals or in India, then you’ll know that the coronavirus that we’re fighting affects our breathing. And so, something so vital, so essential that we often take it for granted is taken away from us. So, too, in the past year, various social restrictions have taken ‘normal’ things away from us, which is why we find ourselves in May 2021 confirming our young adults who were meant to have been confirmed in the summer of 2020.

Last week I was at a meeting with the parish priests of our local area, our Deanery, and it had been some time since we had seen each other in person. One priest, from Swiss Cottage, had been hospitalised twice because of the coronavirus, and he spoke very movingly about the novel experience of not being able to catch his breath, and of having to be given oxygen for six days. As I listened, we wept for those in India and other places where oxygen has not been available for them, where people have struggled and died for want of something as basic as breathing – which rather puts into perspective all the other basic normal things that we complain has been taken away from us.

Now, the Holy Spirit who is given to us today – given to the Church at Pentecost, and given to each of us individually through the Sacraments – is in fact the Breath of God: ruah, pneuma, spiritus. And in the Creed we refer to the Holy Spirit as the “Giver of Life”, because without the Breath of God, our Christian life, our spiritual life, our hope of eternal life with God in heaven is dead as a fish out of water –we’re just left gasping for air. And so, just like the breath we need but often take for granted, so too, but in a far deeper and more important way, we human beings need God the Holy Spirit; we need to remain connected to him through the Sacraments of the Church, through regular prayer and coming to Mass week after week. We need God even more than we need the air that we breath because he is the Giver of Life itself.

So when the Holy Spirit is given on this day and he descends upon the apostles, the friends of Christ hear the sound of a “powerful wind from heaven” that fills their whole house. This means that God breathes out his Holy Breath, his Life, his Spirit, and it fills the whole Church. And now, today, when you are anointed and you receive the Sacrament of Confirmation, so too the Breath of God is poured out, given by Christ who is acting in his Church, and the Spirit fills you – each of you are the house in which God dwells – and God in you gives you life.

Those who cannot breathe, in our hospitals, are helped by ventilators and given oxygen. Because we are all born into a state of original sin, each of us have also, from birth, been struggling to breathe, spiritually speaking. Sin chokes the life from us, and leaves us gasping for air. Hence St Paul, in our second reading, talks about the effects of sin on a society and on our relationships. He says: “When self-indulgence is at work the results are obvious: fornication, gross indecency and sexual irresponsibility; idolatry and sorcery; feuds and wrangling, jealousy, bad temper and quarrels; disagreements, factions, envy; drunkenness, orgies and similar things.” If we have experienced such things in our lives, in our societies, our schools, our homes, then we know that our world, and indeed our own selves are in fact gasping for breath because of the deadly effects of sin, a far more terrifying and invisible disease than the coronavirus!

When you and I were baptised, then, it is like being given ventilators, again spiritually speaking, so that we could breathe more easily and receive life. For God’s Holy Spirit was given to us then, and working within us, giving us his grace, his life, his energy, we were empowered to live Christian lives. The effects of our Baptism, therefore, as St Paul says to the Galatians, are “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, trustfulness, gentleness and self-control.” The reason why I say that we’re still on ventilators, spiritually speaking, and we’re not able to breathe easily by ourselves, is because sin continues to influence us and have a hold over us. Hence, every day, we need the Breath of God, we need to receive God’s grace in the Sacraments of the Church, through regular prayer and coming to Mass week after week. Pope Francis has referred to the Church as a “field hospital” because it is here that wounded souls are healed, and so it is here that those who are left breathless and asphyxiated by sin can receive the Breath of Life, the ‘ventilation’ of the Sacraments!

But as with the simple act of breathing, which we can take for granted because it is so essential, so too, the Holy Spirit, and the grace of the Sacraments, and coming to church can all be taken for granted. In part, you were brought here by your parents, and encouraged by them to do so. But also because you were baptised as babies, so Jesus Christ and his Church and her Sacraments have always been part of your lives, and you can end up taking it all for granted. Please don’t. The most important things are often taken for granted, but we now realise how much we need them, and we pray that they will not be taken from us. For as the psalmist says: “You take back your spirit, they die, returning to the dust from which they came.” Hence, our prayer today and everyday is always: “Come Holy Spirit”! Come, give us the Breath of God for without you we are left for dead by sin and the hardships of life and mortally wounded by a godless world; without you we fall!

One young man who knew this was Blessed Carlo Acutis, the first millennial saint, born in London, who died of leukemia in 2006, aged just 15 like you. He once said: “Our soul is like a hot air balloon. If by chance there is a mortal sin, the soul falls to the ground. Confession is like the fire underneath the balloon enabling the soul to rise again. . . It is important to go to confession often.” Although he was only about your age, Carlo knew what life was ultimately about. He said: “Our goal must be infinite, not the finite. The infinite is our homeland. Heaven has been waiting for us forever.” But he knew that we didn’t just get to heaven automatically. Rather, to reach our goal he knew that we need to stay close to Jesus, and also to love his mother Mary. So he said: “The Eucharist is the highway to heaven” because “The more Eucharist we receive, the more we will become like Jesus, so that on earth we will have a foretaste of heaven.” Listen, then, to this young saint, and to his profound insights, that must have come to him through deep prayer, and through the gift of the Holy Spirit.

That same Holy Spirit, the Breath of God, is going to be given to you today in the Sacrament of Confirmation. As you know, the word ‘confirmation’ means to be strengthened, to be made firmer in your resolve, your commitment, your promise to live as Christians in the world. In our hospitals, those who are breathless are given oxygen to help them breathe more easily. The Holy Spirit is like oxygen, who helps you live the Christian life more easily. Oxygen also causes things to ignite, to burn hotter and brighter. Hence, when the Breath of God comes down upon the apostles on Pentecost day, they see tongues of fire! Because the Holy Spirit, given to you today is, spiritually speaking, like oxygen, who will cause you to burn with greater love for God, and to shine with good works, loving actions, give glory to God your heavenly Father.

My dear young people, our parish here at St Dominic’s, this community, we have great need of you. We need you to help us, as a Christian parish community, to burn hotter and brighter; to contribute to what we do and say here so that we can love God better, and show the world that this is where they need to come to receive “the Lord, the Giver of Life”. So, after your Confirmation today, be sure to come back week after week: remain connected to God, the Breath of Life, through the Sacraments of the Church and regular daily prayer: come to Confession at least once a month, and come to Holy Mass every Sunday. And do come and speak with me, and tell me how I can help you to burn more brightly as a Christian, how I can help you in your friendship with Jesus, and ask the questions that trouble and confuse you about being Catholic in a world that thinks we’re drunk or strange or mad! And please, don’t let me, your parish priest, take you for granted. Because you’re too important to me, and essential to all of us here at St Dominic’s!

Together, we will renew this place, and even this neighbourhood, and indeed, transform our lives through the grace and power and Breath of the Holy Spirit. If I may end by borrow the words of a certain song by ‘Fun’: “Tonight, we are young, So let's set the world on fire, We can burn brighter than the sun.” Indeed, we shall burn brighter – with the light of Jesus Christ the Son!

[sinagrace]

Iceman’s been back on my mind lately. It started with the internet rumor that Shia Labeouf was being considered to play the role of Bobby Drake in a Marvel Cinematic Universe version of the X-Men. My DMs and @Mentions on social media were a mixture of intense reaction and then asking my take on who would make a great Bobby Drake (for the record: in my head I always saw him as a younger Antoni Porowski with a theater background, ‘cuz playing the funny guy with a vulnerable streak requires serious acting shops). My mind went back to the time of BC, when I was doing a lot of touring, and answering this very question because of my work on the Iceman book at Marvel. One thing led to another, and I decided to take a trip further down memory lane to look at my favorite volume of the series: Amazing Friends. Now, I know I’ve spent equal amounts of time publicly stating what a gift working on Iceman was, while also calling out the challenges that came with the experience, but the third volume really was a pure blessing. I was able to take every valuable lesson I learned as a writer, and apply it to telling a story that would be interesting to one person: Me. I’ve been a lifelong X-Men fan, I live and breathe comics, so my own expectations for a return to the series seemed like the only ones to really worry about meeting/ surpassing. The first two volumes had been so bogged down by rotating editors, complex continuity, company-wide events, multiple artists… The third volume was my chance to focus on what an Iceman series was outside of so much context. All that mattered was challenging myself to do an X-Men story that focused on the aspects of the franchise I felt were valuable and relevant, meaning: excuses to have Emma Frost be an asshole and finding an opportunity to make fun of Kitty Pryde’s haircut. Before moving on from Marvel, Axel Alonso made time to call me for a pep talk about the series. I wanted to get the series extended, and he wanted to help me succeed with the ten issues he could commit to. First, he offered an eleventh issue to give me more time on the stands. He took a look at everything I had planned, and basically told me to restructure with an eye for ramping up the pace. My writing background comes from prose and essays/ think pieces… both of which are methodical and provide some allowance from the reader to really take your time and set up the world before diving into the meat. That’s not the case with comics. You gotta work fast. Especially in today’s market, there is less and less room for a retailer to say, “give it two volumes, because shit starts really coming together by the third trade.” That was literally my speech for hooking people on such iconic series as Invincible, Fables, and Strangers in Paradise. Nowadays, every single issue is not a brick to be laid down as foundation so much as a bullet in your gun. Conflicting imagery, but that’s the point. Axel told me to think about the Big Moments in my life and sort out how to inject the mutant metaphor into it and make the most compelling comic book story I could. This was epic advice that I took with me into the new arc, but I struggled a bit with what could be bigger than the “coming out” storyline in volume one. Love was off the table because I wanted to keep Bobby single and ready to mingle. Death was off the table too, because my editor felt like we’d done enough with Bobby’s parents in the first two volumes. Upon looking at my own life, and considering the stuff me and my friends were dealing with, I landed on something a bit more reflective than LIFE or DEATH. I wanted to focus on that moment when a gay guy looks outside of himself and realizes the folks around him may not have it so easy. After everything we’ve been dealing with this summer, Iceman’s “big issue” of the arc feels oddly prescient. Bobby Drake had to reconcile his accidental complicit role in keeping the Morlocks down, and he has to investigate new approaches to being a better ally to those who don’t want to or can’t live under the protection of the X-Men. I used the Morlocks to allegorically speak to the issues that the trans/ NB community face today. Considering that trans folks are facing higher rates of homelessness and murder than other members of the LGBTQIA+ community, all I needed to do was find a perfect villain to treat the Morlocks as “lesser-than.” Cue Mister Sinister, who I wrote as particularly Darwinist with a major flair for interactive theater. While Amazing Friends definitely is the most fun I’ve had working on the book, it was also full of the heaviest shit I’ve written about. I’m so grateful that my editor let me use Emma Frost for a story about the trauma of gay conversion therapy with her brother Christian, but I’m still annoyed he wouldn’t let me put her in a sickening Givenchy outfit for her reveal. Similarly, creating the Madin character required that I chat with several mental healthcare professionals and members of the NB community to respectfully portray them as a resilient and fleshed out hero. I included personal lessons that I learned from years of the therapy (the sandcastle / sea image, a Jay Edidin fave moment). My editor and I weren’t always aligned, but we definitely were on each other’s side. He understood what I was trying to do and asked questions when something flew over his head, and he even had the good instincts to stop me from going too heavy handed with the ending. My original idea for the arc’s finale was to have Bobby become permanently scarred in his fight with Sinister, where he’d have a cool ice gash running across his face or something, a la Squall from Final Fantasy 8. The goal was to show Iceman stripping himself of his ability to pass as non-mutant to save the Morlocks, but the Mutant Pride fight scene being a stand-in for the Stonewall Riots kind of already made enough of a statement. Plus, no one in editorial wanted to deal with remembering to track his scar in other books. At first I tried to balk at his point of view, but when I looked over my original notes for the series, the point was to focus on optimism and hope. Giving Bobby a permanent scar and emphasizing the notion of sacrifice was too bleak a message for a series wherein the hero carbo-loads hoagies while riding an ice scooter and mutant drag queens emcee local festivals. Of course, the crowning achievement of the series… my mutant drag queen :) I’ve witnessed a lot when it comes to the world of pop culture and myth-making, and I 100% believe that you can’t plan the success of something. I’ve seen bands forced into breaking up because labels spend six figures failing at making listeners connect with an album. I witnessed firsthand how The Walking Dead was built from relatively humble beginnings as a buzzy cable drama into a literal international phenomenon over the course of its first three seasons. Everyone hopes for the best, but you never know how something will land with audiences. When the Shade character took off, I was truly astounded. Things I posted on Instagram while half-asleep became official quotes on major news sites. Queens and cosplayers were interpreting her like Margot Robbie had unveiled a new Harley Quinn lewk. The impact was so legit and immediate that we had to jump in and give Shade a proper Marvel hero alias, to truly welcome her into the X-Men canon. Hence the name change to Darkveil. (Funny story: I tried to fight hard for Madame X as an alias, but CB didn’t want another Agent X / “X-Name” character. Three months later, Madonna announced the Madame X album. Phew!) There was a time where I felt uncertain that the folks in charge at Marvel would bring Darkveil into any stories outside of the ones I wrote. My understanding was that Hickman was like the Cylons and had A Plan-- one that didn’t include her character. I made peace with my contribution to the Marvel Universe being contained, but then someone on social media pointed out that Darkveil showed up in an issue of Marvel Voices. After breaking down and reading Hickman’s House of X, I saw that his Plan was one of endless possibilities, and that he was moving EVERY character into new and dynamic places. I have hope now that he sees the possibilities with Darkveil, and takes advantage of her and all of her many body pouches. Amazing Friends really is my favorite thing I’ve done for the Big Two. I made a lifelong friend out of artist Nate Stockman (DC, please hire us for a Plasticman book), and I got to run a victory lap with the most encouraging and supportive readers out there. It was worth every dreadful conversation, every shitty thing a person said to me online, and all of the fun nonsense that goes into being creative for a living. Being stuck at home in quarantine has given me a lot of time to reflect on the gift that my career to date has been, and I feel so grateful to be where I am today. Other people may groan when they have to talk about something they’ve moved on from, but not me. I made people happier, I got to work with my favorite characters at Marvel, and and I'll say it again: it’s a frickin’ gift to make people move from your work. So, I will engage every tweet or message asking me my thoughts about who should play Bobby Drake in the Marvel Cinematic Universe… I’ll just never have a good answer.

[lil-creatorwritings]

Summer of Smut Writing Challenge July 4: Evening Pleasures [Lancelot Kingsley]

Fandom: Ikemen revolution Pairing:  Lancelot Kingsley x Reader Word Count: 1,519 words Prompt: Banging on the beach Warning: Pure, unadulterated smut. There is zero plot. A/N: Part of @voltage-vixen ’s Summer of Smut Writing Challenge. You can check the original post for the rules and prompts if you’d like to join in as well! I'm trying to catch up with the prompts since I posted late, so bear with me! Though the end goal is to be able to write all 15 prompts, I'm trying to see if I can finish it on the 15th. So far, I'm enjoying writing these and I hope you all are having fun reading these as well. Special tag for @plumpblueberry cause it's her mans and she needs more Vitamin D.

---

The sound of laughter in the background made you smile as you looked out into the ocean, mindlessly tracing your finger over the sand. Things have been quite hectic around the Red Army headquarters ever since the war with the Magic Tower had ended. There was still much to do in the aftermath, such as keeping the peace and bridging the gap with the Black Army, which also resulted in additional work. You couldn't help but notice the exhaustion written on your friends' faces, especially with Lancelot. Being King meant that he was responsible for almost everything that went on and you worried that he was exhausting himself too much. You had thought about different ways on how you can help them until Edgar gave you the idea of arranging this weekend trip by the beach.

When you brought it up with him, you didn't expect that he would agree to it so easily. But here you all were, spending the last night having more fun with a small party. The past days have been full of adventure and new memories. Even though it was a short vacation, you were glad for the opportunity to give them a break, even for a little while.

You felt something graze your back, looking up to see Lancelot drape your shawl over your shoulders. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing much. I was just admiring the scenery."

He nodded. "It's a beautiful sight, just like you."

Tomorrow, all of them will be back to their normal routines, attending to their duties and obligations. Although you understand that it's simply a part of how things are, you couldn't help but feel a dull ache in your chest. You stood up and stepped into the waters, hoping that it could carry away your sadness. Forcing a smile, you turned to look back at him. "I'm going to miss this though. It was a lot of fun spending time with everyone like this."

He moved towards you, reaching out to cup your cheek. "Yes, I feel the same way. But I missed you the most."

"Me too." Leaning into his touch, you looked up into his blue eyes. "I know I can't do much, but as long as I can stay by your side, I'll do my best to support you."

Lancelot could only smile at your words. "That's more than enough for me."

Wrapping your arms around his neck, the two of you shared a sweet kiss. Before you could pull away, he tipped your chin up and nipped on your lower lip. You opened your mouth, whimpering as he pulled you to him and deepened the kiss. It had been far too long since he was this close to you, the need for him growing even more when his fingers caressed your side.

Your body trembled as a cold wave splashed up your legs. Breaking the kiss, you tugged your shawl closer around you and rubbed on your arm. "I think we should get out of the water first."

"Come with me."

Following along, he led you away from the lively cottage and down the shore until you spotted a secluded alcove by the far corner. It was quite cozy inside with enough space to lie down on the sand if you wanted to. He brought you back into his arms, nuzzling in the crook of your neck and resumed to shower you in kisses. You moaned softly when his hand slid up your chest, massaging your breast through you bikini top as you arched your back.

His touch sent a throb between your legs as you ran your fingers in his hair. "Lance..."

"Here, let me help you warm up." Sliding further down and in your bottoms, he teased your clit with his fingers, rubbing with light pressure. You heard him groan as he realized how wet you already were, sliding two digits inside you with ease. With your other hand holding on to his shirt, you ground your hips against his hand for more. He pushed a third one in, stretching you and thrusting them faster as you gasped wantonly into his ear.

You dug your nails into his shoulder, fighting the urge to give in to your release. "Lance, please... I want you inside me..."

By your command, he pulled his hand away and licked them clean. You felt the gush of your arousal as you watched him before he undressed you of your shirt, guiding you to a nearby rock. Leaning down, you placed your hands on a smooth portion. With a tug, your bottoms slipped down your legs as his hand caressed your inner thighs. Parting them further, you felt him rub his length along your slit before pushing in your waiting entrance. He grunted from your wet heat, your walls throbbing around him as he started to slowly thrust his hips.

Biting your lower lip, you tried to keep your voice down as he filled you with each push. Lancelot tilted your face towards him, kissing you briefly to stop you. "Don't do that. I want to hear how much you want me."

Pleasure spread through your body as he sped up, making you cry out when his fingers circled your aching clit. You rocked your hips in time as he pushed deeper, making you shudder when he rubbed against your spot. His mouth trailed a series of kisses up your back, his free hand cupping your breast and teasing your nipple.

"Lance...!" You moaned his name, your walls squeezing him tighter as you felt your body reaching its limit.

His voice was hoarse, hips thrusting harder and his fingers relentlessly rubbing your clit. "Come with me."

Everything seemed to fade when your orgasm crashed over you, your body trembling as you cried out in bliss. Drawing out your pleasure longer, he kept you flush against him until it was too much, your spasms triggering his own release as he spilled his warmth inside you. The two of you struggled to catch your breath as he gently pulled out, placing a tender kiss in your shoulder before whispering his devotion for you. You turned around and gave him a kiss on the lips, answering him back.

Before the two of you left the cove, Lancelot pulled you in his arms again. Lifting the shirt you wore, he nipped and sucked on a spot above your breast to leave a hickey. He pulled away when he was done, your body shuddering over the memory as he traced his thumb over the mark. "I promise to make love to you before this fades. And when I do, I'll make another one in its place and promise you the same thing."

It was simple yet it filled you with much joy. You nodded, placing your hand over it. "Okay. I'll make sure you never forget."

"I don't intend to." He smiled, kissing you on the forehead. "But you're free to remind me whenever you wish."

Everyone was still there when you returned to the cottage. You could only assume what happened, seeing as Jonah was red-faced and giggling with Kyle about something while drinking. Edgar and Zero seemed pretty sober as they chatted normally, having a few cups of tea.

"Oh, you're back." Zero looked at the two of you. "Would you like--"

"Lancelot!" Out of nowhere, Kyle managed to launch himself at the man, draping an arm around his shoulder. "Where'd you go! I can't believe you would miss out on our party. We should have more fun before we go back to working day and night!"

You could only watch while Lancelot got dragged off by the merry doctor, giggling as he tried to sit him down. Edgar offered you a fresh cup of tea as you took a seat across them. "So where have the two of you been?"

"Just by the shore. We were just talking and admiring the view."

"It must have been quite a stimulating conversation if you were away for a while."

The implication in his tone almost made you choke on your tea. Zero nudged him with his elbow. "Edgar, don't pry into their personal affairs."

"Yes, of course, you're right." He nodded, hoping he didn't notice the blush creeping up your face. "Although I am curious, isn't that King Lancelot's shirt you're currently wearing?"

"It was cold so he gave it to me."

"Ah, I see. And your hair..."

"The wind messed it up as we were coming back."

"Really?" Zero tilted his head. "I didn't feel--"

"You know, I'm feeling quite tired, so I think I'll have Lance escort me back to the hotel." You put the empty cup down and shot Edgar a look. He only smiled at you, though you knew better than to give him more fuel to tease you with. As you left to rescue your lover from the two inebriated men, you heard Edgar chuckle while the other one asked him what was going on. Lancelot was more than happy to accompany you, leaving Jonah to discuss the intricacies of eating custard cakes with Kyle.

[the-dragon-central]

May I request a fic about Nuffink or Zephyr's naming ceremonies? Thank you in advance! You are all such great writers!!!

Hey @queenofthearchipelago! I’ve been working on your request since last summer and it ended in a +5k words one shot… I really hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I do!

I want to thank my friend JoyOfBerK and @wolfie-dragon-rider who corrected it! And also @poppysfanworld who helped me a lot with the story!

P.S: Be aware, there is a nsfw scene at the beginning of the flashback…

Origins Of A Name

“I present to you Zephyr Haddock the First, heir to the throne of Berk!” proudly announced the chief of New Berk. 

The voices were then raised in the Great Hall, clapping loudly for the newborn’s entry into the tribe. Cradled in the arms of her father, the little girl did not seem to be disturbed by the loud noise. Not far behind, Astrid looked tenderly at her husband, who smiled back at her. She approached them and Hiccup wrapped his arm around her. Astrid delicately placed her hand on their daughter’s head, stroking the few hairs that covered her skull before kissing her forehead. You could see on their faces how happy they were. 

It had been almost a month since little Zephyr was born, but the naming ceremony was not to take place until you were sure that the baby was viable. In other words, if it was able to ensure the continued existence of the clan. However, it was a girl. And only the elder boys could claim the throne. But Hiccup thought otherwise. She was his first-born child, so she would be the one to succeed him. During Hiccup’s time on the Edge, he had had the opportunity to meet several women in power, starting with Mala, the Queen of the Defenders of the Wing, Atali, the leader of the Wingmaidens, and nowadays, Heather was the leader of the Berserker clan. As for Astrid, she was chieftess at his side. Besides, from what he remembered, all these tribes were known to be at peace. Then why shouldn’t women rule? No ridiculous tradition could change his mind. He was pretty clear on the issue when he introduced Zephyr earlier. 

Also, finding a name could take some time, especially since one was not supposed to think about it before the birth of the child, as the fear that the child could die in childbirth was present. And then, we could say that the couple had been a little taken aback with the birth of their daughter. To tell the truth, the little girl had almost been born into the world on the high seas. So one would think this name was chosen in haste, but no, it had its full meaning. The name had already started to make a name for itself. Hiccup could no longer hear himself think in the Great Hall. 

“I declare the banquet open!” he managed to announce amidst the general hubbub.

Further on, the gang was among those who gossiped about the little girl’s name. 

“No, but Zephyr, like, how do you pronounce that again?” Tuffnut asked. 

“Hasn’t it been a month since they’ve been coming out to say that that’s a name?” Snotlout looked up at the sky, indignant. 

“And then, Zephyr, what’s the origin of that name?” 

“Well, well… looks like our little girl’s already getting some attention…” said the chief as he approached his group of friends with a smile on his face and the child in his arms. 

“Ah guys… we didn’t see you coming…” Fishlegs swallowed in a low voice.

Fishlegs seemed to blame himself when he was the only one who didn’t say anything about it. Ruffnut moved herself in front of him. 

“In fact, yes, we did see you coming from a distance, and we might actually be discussing your daughter’s first name.”

Fishlegs hid both his eyes for fear of what would happen next. 

“So, why did you give her that name?” the twin girl finally dared to ask. 

Hiccup and Astrid exchanged a glance before starting to laugh quietly so as to not wake up the little one. 

“Well, what? What’s so funny?” Snotlout was outraged. 

“To tell you the truth, we didn’t think you’d be interested,” Astrid confessed. 

“It must be said that Zephyr is an unusual name…” said Fishlegs, again interested in the main topic of conversation. 

“Certainly,” Hiccup nodded. “It’s true that with everything that’s happened since she was born, we haven’t had much time for you.”

“This marvel requires a lot of work,” Astrid added, while playing with Zephyr’s little fingers. 

“Yeah, we understand you guys were busy. In the meantime, we still don’t know how your honeymoon went,” Snotlout said, impatient. 

“Well, we already know what came out of it…” Ruffnut replied, turning her eyes to the baby. 

Astrid turned beet red. 

“Now do you really want to know what happened or not?” tempered the chief, placing his hand in front of his wife to prevent her from jumping on the twin. 

Ruffnut displayed a satisfied grin as Astrid shook her head in annoyance. She took her daughter from her husband’s arms and sat down, scowling, all without taking her eyes off Ruffnut. 

“So,” he insisted, raising his voice before things got out of hand. “As you know, a few months after we got married, Astrid and I, we had a well-deserved honeymoon.”

“Honeymoon that lasted nearly seven moons…” said Snotlout in a low voice. 

Hiccup looked at him, looking desperate. 

“As I was saying, we had a well-deserved honeymoon,” he continued, this time emphasizing the end of his sentence.  “… which took us far beyond the already known parts of the archipelago…” 

His firm arms wrapped around her waist while his hands rested on her sweaty abdomen, rising with her panting breath. The hand of her beloved slipped over his own to caress his fingers. Her blue eyes crossed his green eyes and their irregular breath soon merged into a languorous kiss. The hands of the auburn-haired boy went up along the young woman’s body. He liked to contemplate her curves, the very ones that seemed so perfect to him. By making love to her so regularly, he knew her body inside out and if he wasn’t so meticulous, he would have sworn her breasts were bigger than before. He grabbed one of them while continuing to kiss her and she moaned against his mouth. He then stopped to observe her. 

“I seem to have hit a nerve…”

“It’s because you keep tickling them…”

“And you like it… admit it,” he blew as he defied her mouth. 

He pressed a little harder on the breast he was holding in his hand while playing with the tip of the other. Astrid refrained from moaning, wondering how he had become such an expert in this field. Her eyes were closed but she could feel his gaze on her. He was taunting her, waiting for her to crack. But Astrid Haddock didn’t give in so easily. Slowly, she slides her hand up to her partner’s budding erection and grasps it to apply pressure at the tip with her thumb. The young man let out a little scream. 

“Hey, that’s not fair!” he took offense. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” said the blonde, opening her eyes and smiling at the corner of her lips.

She applied more pressure. The young chief moaned. 

“Oh, you want to play that…” he said, catching his breath. 

He grabbed her breasts with his hands and kneaded them while pressing on them. 

“Hi-Hiccup! S-Stop it… now! Otherwise I’m gonna…”

He put his lips on hers to shut her up. Astrid was desperate. He had won. She finally gave in to her feelings that urged her to let go. Hiccup was kissing her while he continued what he had started. He accelerated his move and exerted even more pressure. His hands grabbed both breasts at the same time and he squeezed them as hard as he could. Astrid screamed with pleasure and a whitish liquid flowed from her nipples. Hiccup watched the scene, a little confused. 

“But is that… milk?” he finished saying. 

Astrid, panting, was taking a breath. She looked up at her husband before taking a look at his chest. She redirected her attention to Hiccup.

“There’s only one way to find out…”

It took the young man a few seconds to understand his wife’s request. He rose to his height and brought his head close to his chest. He kissed her gently at first before sticking out his tongue to lick the white liquid that covered them. He found himself wanting more. So he grabbed one of her breasts with his mouth and started sucking. Astrid became red, somewhat embarrassed by her initiative but also because she liked it. When he had finished, he brought his face close to hers to kiss her. 

…

Later that morning, they saw on a large cliff the remains of a temple overlooking the sea. They knew at that moment that they had arrived. 

“What was the name of their sea god again?” asked the young woman. 

“It seems to me that it was Poseidon.”  

“Poseidon, what a funny name…” Astrid whispered as she approached the young man to snuggle up against him. 

They admired the time-worn temple standing before them. This trip promised to be exciting. 

Later in the day, they had found a place to lie down and enjoy a good hot meal. The fact that Hiccup knew several languages had been very helpful to them on their journey. Of course, the chief did not master the rules of all these languages, but he knew the most common words, which allowed them to get along with the inhabitants of the different regions. And it must be said that over a glass of red wine, it wasn’t always essential to know the language of the country you were in, especially at the end of the evening when everyone ended up speaking the same language… Fortunately, Hiccup and Astrid hadn’t spent their honeymoon running around pubs but rather sightseeing the different places they went and enjoying their life together. Greece was the furthest place they had traveled to so far and they were not planning to stop there. At Lavrio, where they had moored their boat, there wasn’t much to see except the temple they had discovered when they arrived. Their goal was the capital of this part of the Roman Empire: Athens.

They left at dawn the next day for a journey of about three days. They stopped several times along the way to regain their strength or to spend the night in a hostel where they enjoyed a good meal. Greece was a strange country. At this time of year, it was hot and the air was dry. It had nothing to do with the climate of the northern countries, it was the exact opposite. Hiccup and Astrid had given up their furs for lighter clothes, they were beginning to get used to them. When they finally arrived in Athens, the young couple first became interested in ancient architecture by visiting the remains of temples like that of Zeus, which is very impressive in size. They also discovered large arenas, called “stadiums” here, where they did not train dragons but men who practiced various sports according to what they were told. Another place that attracted their attention because of its grandeur was a large theatre dedicated to Dionysus, the god of wine and drunkenness. The theater could hold thousands of people, it was incredible. 

“It’s nothing like the show we used to play at Snoggletog night when we were kids…” Astrid laughed. 

Days passed and the young couple discovered more and more things, each one more interesting than the other. They were also interested in the new religion in force in practically all of Europe, which was Christianity. They had more or less understood that it was the story of a man, Jesus then called Christ. He was “the son of God” who came down to Earth to save humankind and show them the love that God his father had for them. And according to reports, the Romans had put him to death on a cross, and he came back to life three days later. A whole cult had then organized itself around this man, and that intrigued Hiccup and Astrid a lot. 

“I really find it hard to understand how you can spend your life worshipping only one god,” Astrid whispered, puzzled. 

They were in a baptistery to attend the baptism of a citizen. They had made a point of going there to find out what customs existed outside the archipelago. 

“That’s a different way of thinking things, I guess. Maybe they’re better off that way,” the young man replied in a low voice. 

“Still, all these rituals for one being. At least we have a god for every occasion, Freya for fertility, Thor for thunder, Balder for light and Loki for the twins’ nonsense!” the blonde exclaimed. 

“Sure, but you forget that Odin is the king of the gods, so we could worship only him.”

“It’s completely ridiculous, the gods must have a leader. You need someone to run all these beautiful people. Look at us for example; you are the chief and everyone has his role in the village council. Fishlegs is in charge of diplomacy, Snotlout of everything that is put into practice and the twins of the entire organization. And you and I will handle the strategy. We’re a good team and you’re essential to make sure everyone is in their place, but you couldn’t do anything without them. You know what I mean?” 

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it into his before smiling at her. 

“Very well.”

He kissed her on the cheek. 

Astrid always had the right words to make him smile again. She was always there for him, reassuring him. At that very moment, all those present in the room rose to recite a prayer:

“Πάτερ ἡμῶν ὁ ἐν τοῖς οὐρανοῖς,

ἁγιασθήτω τὸ ὄνομά σου,

ἐλθέτω ἡ βασιλεία σου,

γενηθήτω τὸ θέλημά σου,

ὡς ἐν οὐρανῷ καὶ ἐπὶ τῆς γῆς•

τὸν ἄρτον ἡμῶν τὸν ἐπιούσιον δὸς ἡμῖν σήμερον•

καὶ ἄφες ἡμῖν τὰ ὀφειλήματα ἡμῶν,

ὡς καὶ ἡμεῖς ἀφίεμεν τοῖς ὀφειλέταις ἡμῶν•

καὶ μὴ εἰσενέγκῃς ἡμᾶς εἰ�� πειρασμόν,

ἀλλὰ ῥῦσαι ἡμᾶς ἀπὸ τοῦ πονηροῦ.”

Afterwards, the newly baptized was cheered and everyone was allowed to leave the building. Always fascinated by the architecture of the buildings in Athens, Hiccup and Astrid stopped to contemplate the architecture of the Baptistery, which, in fact, had been built long before the arrival of Christianity, judging by the deities present on the facade. 

Seeing the young couple taking an interest in the building, an old woman approached them and told them in Greek that it was in fact an ancient hydraulic clock called “Tower of the Winds” because of the allegories of each wind represented on each of the facades. She explained to them how the clock worked and to which allegory each wind direction was associated: Boreas was the north wind, Kaikias the northeast wind, Apeliotes represented the east wind, Eurus the southeast, Notus the south wind, Lips invoked the southwest wind, Skiron the northwest wind and finally Zephyr, the messenger of spring, directed the west wind. This was a lot of divinities to remember since in the pantheon of the Nordic gods, there was no wind god as such. The last allegory piqued Astrid’s curiosity.

“Why is this one lying down when all the others are in action or seem to be flying?” 

After Hiccup translated Astrid’s question to the old lady, she answered tacitly: “That’s because he is represented as a woman.” 

The auburn-haired man hesitated before translating the old woman’s answer to his impatient wife. 

“What did she say? Tell me, Hiccup. Right now.”

Astrid’s glance became more insistent so he ended up repeating to her what the old one had told her. He held her back before she attacked the old lady. Luckily for him, no one could understand the swear words the young woman was uttering, otherwise the situation could have been much more awkward than it already was. Hiccup took Astrid further after apologizing to the old lady and thanking her for all her explanations. 

“Seriously, what is this domination of man over woman! For them, the woman is only good for staying at home and taking care of the children!” Astrid choked. 

“Keep calm Astrid, we shouldn’t let ourselves be noticed these days…” 

“And how can you stay so calm?”

“Well, I just accept that these people have a different conception of the world than I do. I don’t agree with that, but I have to admit that I am in their country and they offer me hospitality, so I have to live with it,” he said in a firm tone of voice. 

The blonde-haired girl was about to say something but she frowned, knowing full well that her husband was right. They had made this trip to find out how people lived beyond the world they knew and they had discovered wonderful things, but not everything could be perfect. Besides, they were just passing through, it was no time to get into trouble. So they continued on their way, blending in with the crowd and headed for the Agora of Athens where the city’s largest market was held. They went into it and discovered a thousand and one wonders. There was product coming in from all over the place. They had already had the opportunity to go to markets in the kingdoms they had previously visited, but this one offered food from afar, from a place called “Orient”. Astrid let herself be seduced by the aromatic spices, which, mixed with the fragrances of the flowers, provided the buyer a very original bath product. The young couple moved from aisle to aisle having a good time. They enjoyed conversing, whenever possible, with merchants who had nothing to do with Trader Johann. During a discussion with a carpet merchant, Astrid asked to sit down. The daughter of the woman who ran the shop brought her a chair to sit on. The chief continued to speak with the merchant, but he did not have time to finish his sentence, the merchant interrupted him with a shout of stupor while pointing at his wife who had just collapsed to the ground. Hiccup ran to his wife to pick her up.

“Astrid! Are you okay?” asked the young man, worried. 

“I… Yes… Well no… I… My head is spinning a little…” the young woman mumbled. 

“Where can I find a healer around here?” he asked in Greek to the woman whose house he was at. 

“Πάρτε τους στο Αθηνόδωρος”, she blew to her daughter. 

Without having time to translate the woman’s words into his head, the little girl grabbed his hand and invited him to follow her. Hiccup questioned Astrid with his eyes but she couldn’t get up, so he took her in his arms and followed the girl through the crowd. He fought his way through the human tide against all odds, trying not to lose sight of the little girl. Eventually they left the market and followed his little guide. They walked down a few alleyways until they reached the door of a house. The girl knocked on the door and a man, with facial features marked by time, appeared in the frame. 

“Γεια σας Αθηνόδωρος” greeted the little girl. 

Hiccup understood at that moment that the man’s name was Athenodorus, and he walked towards him to greet him and introduce himself before explaining the reason for his coming in the usual language. 

“It’s my wife, she’s fainted.” 

The man frowned with his thick eyebrows before backing away to invite them into his home. 

…

He was pacing in front of the practitioner’s office. He had waited there for over an hour without knowing what was going on. He had answered all his questions before he took Astrid to rest in his room to examine her more closely. Just as Hiccup was about to lose his patience, the door finally opened. Athenodorus beckoned him to come in and he found his wife looking better. She smiled at him and he took her hand to show her his presence. The old man made them both sit down and explained that he needed more information in order to examine Astrid more closely. Hiccup was very impressed with the very precise way he assessed the symptoms and the young woman’s experiences. It was very… scientific. In fact, he had learned that this man practiced another type of healing, which here was called “medicine”. 

He then asked them various questions, but the more he progressed, the more complex and personal they became. Hiccup had to ask Astrid when was her last menstruation, if she had observed a change in her chest or if she had a more frequent urge to urinate… He had to translate Athenodorus’ questions to Astrid and translate her answers. The interview quickly became tiring for Hiccup who was not used to speaking so long in a language that was not his. The last question somewhat baffled the young man: it concerned the frequency of their sexual activity.

It is this very moment that Ruffnut chose to interrupt Hiccup in his story. 

“He couldn’t have been disappointed with the answer!” she laughed. 

Astrid wanted to get up but she remembered that it was her who was holding Zephyr in her arms. She satisfied herself with a simple threat: 

“Another remark like that and you won’t come out of this conversation unscathed.”

Hiccup put one hand on his wife’s shoulder to soothe the beast that threatened to come out. She was even more on edge since the birth of their daughter and after her husband, it was her friends who benefited most from her mood swings. 

“Yeah, that’s all well and good, but we still don’t know why you called your daughter Zephyr!” became impatient Snotlout.

“If I wasn’t interrupted every five minutes, maybe I could give you this explanation…” the chief despaired. 

“So? Once you realized Astrid was pregnant, what did you do?” Fishlegs asked, seeking to motivate his friend. 

“Well, as Astrid was already about four months pregnant, that left us five months to go home. So we went back to Lavrio where we’d left the boat and left. From that point on, let’s just say that things have been more difficult…”

After leaving Greece, Hiccup and Astrid made their first stop in the Iberian Peninsula. They had sought shelter for the night, but no one was willing to take them in; there was a rumour that an ill-intentioned Viking couple was travelling through Europe. They’d ended up sleeping under the stars. Fortunately for them, in the middle of summer, the nights were rather mild, especially in this part of the world. The next day, they were soon back on the road, which was shaping up to be long and perilous. And they were not at the end of their surprises… In the kingdom of France and more precisely in Brittany where they stopped over, the inhabitants were no longer welcoming. Rumours were spreading between the kingdoms as fast as they were distorted: now we were dealing with ungodly Vikings who wanted to convert the Christians, preventing them from entering paradise. They had been denounced by the fishmonger, who had repeated this to the village bishop. Except in those kingdoms, religion was no joke, and Hiccup and Astrid knew that. As a result, they had been forced to spend more time than expected on Brittany’s land while awaiting trial. The two lovebirds were only released several weeks later when a young woman vouched for their good faith. They could leave but they were still far from home and Astrid’s belly was getting rounder every day. When they stopped on English soil, the locals were no more welcoming than in Brittany. They held them captive for a while, so that they could appear before their king to answer the charges against them. Fortunately, Hiccup managed to convince the king of their innocence. When they were allowed to leave again, the journey ahead of them was still long because, by going down to the capital, they would have to return to the north of the kingdom. Two months had already passed when they finally returned to their boat. They had enough supplies to last a month at sea, which discouraged them from stopping again. They went on their way, but they did not take the same route as on their outward journey and Hiccup had gotten them lost. He had gone too far, drifting them into the farthest corners of the North Sea. They were surprised by violent storms carrying huge blocks of ice that led them to the Icelandic coast where they were stranded for several weeks before they were able to leave. After that episode, Hiccup was determined to bring them home. Astrid was looking good but he felt that the fatigue was gaining on her more and more, and the situation was as stressful for her as for him. The dragon rider would have given anything for Toothless to be there to help them, but they had to fend for themselves now. All they had to do was hope the west wind was on their side.

…

The mist thickened as they went along. Astrid’s pain could be read on her face. Hiccup knew they had to get to land and fast. His face was tense, hollowed out by the trials they had had to go through and which the apparent hairiness accentuated. The former dragon master was afraid. He couldn’t lose her or he’d go down in the ship with her. The path finally cleared when he saw two familiar statues. 

“Berk…” he breathed in a mixture of surprise and relief. 

Holding his wife in his arms, he turned to her to smile and kiss her. Hope was returning, they were saved. Hiccup rushed to the boat’s sails to pull them and increase his speed. They docked shortly afterwards. The chief helped his wife downstairs while she was screaming in pain and calling him a bunch of names. Old Berk had aged well. Most of the buildings were still in place although traces of their departure are still visible. They went to the great hall where they knew they were safe. Astrid sat down on a table and Hiccup helped her undress. Blood had stained her clothes. The young woman was having trouble calming down, she was on the verge of tears and had difficulty breathing. Hiccup stroked his sweat-soaked forehead to free the hair that was hiding his eyes. He grabbed her face in both hands. 

“Astrid, look at me. Look at me… shhhh… that’s it, that’s it… breathe,” he reassured her by mimicking a calm, deep breath. “Calm down, you’ll be fine…” 

“But Hiccup, it’s too soon, much too soon! What if… what if…” 

“It’s okay, Astrid, it’s going to be okay. I’m right here with you. I’m here for you. I’ll support you all the way. Do you trust me?” 

The young woman nodded. He then brought his head closer to hers to kiss her hair. 

“Come on… let’s go, Astrid, you can do it. When you feel it coming, you push with all your might, okay?” 

The blonde-haired woman nodded her head while clenching her teeth. She was holding Hiccup’s hand firmly in hers. The young man was watching the baby’s progress, whose head he could not yet make out. A new contraction then seized Astrid’s body which started to push while shouting. 

“It was very good Astrid, you’ll do the same thing next time.” 

And the next one was not long in coming, they were getting closer and closer together. Astrid screamed. 

“I see the head!” Hiccup cried out. 

“I can’t take it anymore Hiccup… I… it’s too hard…” moaned the young woman. 

“Come on Astrid, just a little more effort… I know you’ll make it, you’re a fighter.” 

It was too much all at once, the pressure was too strong and she couldn’t control anything. Tears ran down her cheeks. Hiccup hugged her and reassured her. 

“Come on, love…” 

Contractions resumed. Astrid screamed and soon another scream came to cover hers. Time stood still at that moment. Hiccup took the baby out and placed it on its mother’s stomach. 

“It’s a girl…” he sobbed. 

“A girl…” repeated the new mother who laid trembling hands on the newborn.  “She’s very small…” 

“And she’s beautiful… just like her mommy,” added the father with emotion. “You were amazing, Astrid.” 

The young woman smiled broadly and nerves finally relaxed, she brought her face close to her husband’s and kissed him. 

“Thank you,” she whispered in his ear.

The gang went religiously silent. 

“Zephyr led us to Old Berk,” the chief concluded with emotion. “ the wind brought us back.” 

“Aww,” squeaked Fishlegs. 

Hiccup smiled. 

“There you go. You know what happens next,” he concluded, turning to his daughter whom he caressed tenderly. 

“That’s it?” Ruffnut wondered, disappointed. 

“Wait, what? Did I miss an episode or something? Because I don’t get it now!” exclaimed then Snotlout, visibly lost. 

“Come on man, they talked about it when they mentioned the baptistery they had visited. An old lady detailed her facades and explained to them that they represented each of the winds,” Tuffnut recited, annoyed. 

The brunette was speechless. 

“Because you listened to what they were saying?” 

The chief face-palmed. 

“Pff, you’re pitiful Snotlout…” Ruffnut blew before turning to Hiccup and Astrid. 

“And that’s your explanation? You’re serious?” 

The couple was stunned by the twins, who looked very serious. 

“What do you mean?” Hiccup finally asked. 

“Well that’s very nice, the story of the wind helping you to reach your destination, but apart from that? Is there anything else? No particular symbolic significance?” Tuffnut intervened.

“Because Zephyr, the wind god, we already knew all that,” Ruffnut explained. 

Her brother nodded. 

“No, we thought there was something else behind that name!” added the twin. 

“Yeah, something big!” said Tuffnut. 

“And what exactly were you thinking about?” questioned Astrid whose patience had reached its limits. 

“Well we thought it had something to do with the recent departure of the dragons… it affected all of us and you, Hiccup even more so we thought you wanted to give your daughter a name that carried that legacy…” Ruffnut explained seriously. 

“And also because the wind is what carried us when we flew up there with them…” added her brother with nostalgia. 

“Oh my Thor! Twins, that’s beautiful!” sniffed Fishlegs, trying in vain to hold back his tears. 

Hiccup and Astrid looked at each other, moved. The chief took Ruffnut’s hand.

“Thank you, this meaning is even more beautiful.” 

By nightfall, the young couple had laid their precious little girl in her cradle. They watched her sleep peacefully huddled together. Hiccup ran one hand through his wife’s hair and wedged one of her locks behind her ear before kissing her temple. 

“I really like the meaning the twins have given to our daughter’s name,” Astrid whispered. 

“I like it very much too. Maybe she was subconsciously given that name so the memory of the dragons wouldn’t be lost.” 

There was a hint of sadness in his voice. All this discussion had brought up feelings that he had tried to bury deep inside himself. 

“We’ll never forget them Hiccup, they’ll always be there,” Astrid murmured as she put her hand on the young man’s heart. 

“Thank you, Astrid.” 

Zephyr’s birth was a breath of fresh air after all they’d been through. Her arrival in this world marked the beginning of a new era, synonymous with renewal and advancement for an entire people.

[rudra-writes]

E’manafa’s Dream

(This is a short scene involving Dolorous Bear's adventuring party, before the events of Copperbell Mines. It can also be read at my AO3 here.)

It was dusk. Seated around a campfire in the towering forest of the Shroud, was an adventuring party of three people.

They were a miqo’te, a folk with cat-like ears and a tail, a lalafell, a small people gifted with a keen mind, and a roegadyn, a race of giants from the northern isles. The three of them were fast friends who had traveled together for years. Together they had faced many adventures, and seen remarkable sights far and wide.

It was spring, and the Shroud was at the height of its natural beauty. Ferns carpeted the forest floor. Lupines, daisies, and all manner of other wildflowers were in bloom. The setting sun bathed the trees in hues of golden light, while the last of the daytime birds called.

In spite of their beautiful surroundings, E’manafa, the miqo’te, was not at peace.

A pot of soup simmered over the fire. Kikina, the lalafell, was playing a slow melody on a wooden flute. She’d had plenty of time to practice, and had become quite good at it. Across from Kikina, still clad in his armor, sat the roegadyn with his hands folded. His head was tilted downwards, and his eyes were half-closed, but they knew he was listening to Kikina’s song. He was always appreciative of her playing.

The roegadyn’s name was Dolorous Bear. E’manafa guessed he had been named such for the slight, downward turn at the outer corners of his eyes. It afforded him a somewhat sad look, even when he was happy.

He was known to be ambitious. It was his dream that their heroic deeds be remembered through the ages. It was a lofty goal, but one Dolorous made seem obtainable, through rigorous self-dedication and hard work. It was he who had suggested the three of them join forces originally, and he was usually the most proactive in finding new assignments.

E’manafa had, in more than one instance, wondered if his ambition was a trait that came with being so large in size. Perhaps that would make someone braver. But it wasn’t his long-term goals she had taken special notice of, but something more subtle, something only she appeared to see. That was his kindness.

E’manafa hadn’t known many other roegadyn, but Dolorous seemed to her to be a generous man, sparing no expense to make certain she and Kikina were wanting for nothing on the road. He was brave, both in placing himself between the two of them and the dangers they encountered, as well as fully entrusting his life to them.

Perhaps it was inevitable spending so much time together, but the three of them had become like a found family. And that was part of why it was so hard for E’manafa to speak of her feelings. She knew they had a good thing, a precious thing, in the bond of their friendship. The thought of doing or saying something that could change that, gave her great hesitation.

But adventuring was a high-risk occupation. And there was never a guarantee the three of them would always be able to see one another’s faces.

If E’manafa was going to tell Dolorous her feelings, she felt it needed to be soon. She had never been a superstitious person, but she had a lingering premonition that it was something that needed to be done. Or she might regret it.

Kikina finished playing her song. Dolorous had fallen still a statue while she had been playing the flute. Now his eyelids fluttered, and the muscles under his chainmail tensed and relaxed as he stirred.

Kikina raised a brow at him. “It appears, Dolorous, that you found my performance dreadfully unexciting,” she said dryly. “You seemed ready to go into hibernation.”

The roegadyn shook his head, a sardonic smile uplifting the corners of his mouth. “If I was quiet, it was only because I had no wish to disturb our master flutist.”

Kikina nodded. “Indeed. If you had fallen asleep, this flute would have made an entirely different sound against your head.”

E’manafa hid her smirk at their banter. She judged this to be an opportune time to try to get Dolorous alone. It wasn’t unusual for one of them to need to discuss something privately with one of the others. “Dolorous, if I might have a word with you?”

The roegadyn looked over at E’manafa, then got to his feet. “We won’t be long,” he apologized to Kikina, who merely waved him off.

E’manafa led Dolorous Bear a short distance from their campfire to a shady spot under the boughs of a huge, ancient conifer. There, she turned and looked up at his face.

The roegadyn was blinking down at her curiously, a furrow of faint worry between his brows. “Something on your mind, Emmy?”

E’manafa hesitated. She could sense the impending change that was imminent between them, for good or for ill. But there was no turning from this point. She took a deep breath, and replied, “Dolorous Bear… How long have we journeyed together?”

He tilted his head, then smiled. “It will have been four years, I reckon, come summer. I can still vividly remember the day we set out... Perhaps, you are not satisfied with what we have achieved in that time?”

E’manafa was unsurprised that Dolorous’s first attempt to guess her thoughts involved concern over a perceived lack of progress, since that was usually foremost on his own mind. She shook her head. “Quite the opposite. I think we’ve come a long way since we began… and not merely in the sense of us as adventurers.”

The roegadyn nodded, slowly. “Then… in the sense of us as individuals? And friends?”

E��manafa nodded. “That’s what I was thinking. The three of us have grown and changed so much. And we were always present in one another’s lives, through thick and thin. We are more than an adventuring party now. We’ve become like a family.”

She paused, worrying her lip between her teeth. Dolorous looked concerned. “Emmy… This is nothing that I did not already know. I may not speak of the way I feel often... but you and Kikina are the most important people in the world to me. When we achieve our dream - and I’m certain we shall - there’s no one else I would rather have at my side, than you, and her.”

E’manafa nodded. “Then you would understand why I would be hesitant to tell you the way I really feel.”

For a moment, Dolorous looked pained. “You do not feel the same? Do you mean to tell me you wish to leave?”

E’manafa quickly shook her head. She reached out and took his massive, gauntleted hand in both of her own. “No, I share your dream, as strongly as ever. But what you may not know…” She swallowed, releasing his hand, “...Is that I also dream of a future, in which we are together.”

She watched as understanding slowly dawned across his face. The revelation that she had feelings for him had not, apparently, ever occurred to him. The roegadyn was utterly blindsided, blushing and struggling to form a response. Finally, he looked away, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

“E’manafa…” Dolorous Bear began, “I am… humbled beyond words, that you would want this with me. It is very unexpected. I will not tell you that I entertained similar ideas for the future…” He turned back to the miqo’te, who was listening to him with preternatural focus, “...but, that may have been short-sightedness, on my part. I only ever thought of our shared goal. To become lauded adventurers, the kind of which stories are told.”

He sat down on a stump. “I don’t wish to cause Kikina to feel she is no longer one of us, if we were to do this. However… If the three of us can continue to be a team… and we can continue to work towards our goal… then I…” The roegadyn swallowed, “I wish to accept, if you’ll have me.”

He paused to look at her. E’manafa was covering her mouth with a hand. She moved it to wipe tears from her eyes, but she was smiling. “Dolorous…”

Dolorous smiled in return. No longer quite so worried, he was starting to look excited. “Emmy, you and I can make our own dreams for the future. Dreams I’d never before even considered… They could be ours.”

E’manafa stepped forward, towards the stump Dolorous was sitting on. He looked surprised, but managed to remain still, as she slid her hands around the sides of his broad face.

“Are you all right?” Dolorous whispered, noting the shed tears on the miqo’te’s face.

E’manafa nodded. “Yes, Dolorous. I’m so touched, and so glad… I carried these feelings inside me for so long.”

She leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

It had never before occurred to Dolorous Bear, that he might one day find something he would deem even more precious than the lifelong goal he’d always held in his heart. But he knew, as he felt E’manafa’s lips against his, that he had unexpectedly discovered such a thing. He moved to reciprocate, his kisses forming delicately around her own, tender and reassuring.

For Dolorous Bear, E’manafa, and Kikina, the world was as an open book, and all of their dreams could come true.

[glon-morski]

Coming back at you with 3 characters as well! >:3 Bakugou, All Might, Kirishima

OMG Thank you Daily! 🥺 <3

Bakugou Katsuki

Favorite thing: His determination and sheer drive. When this boy decides to get something done, he gets it done. When he has a goal, he does anything and everything that can help him reach it. And yet despite that, he doesn’t forget self-care (most of the time), like eating well, sleeping enough, having hobbys outside of heroics... honestly, he’s kind of what I want to be like in this particular aspect ^^’

Least favorite thing: His tendency to misinterpret other people and be so sure of his (faulty) conclusions that he can’t even consider that it might just be him miunderstanding things, let alone dealing with being proven wrong. He’s working on it, I know, but still...

Favorite line: "If all you ever do is look down on people, you won't be able to recognize your own weaknesses."

brOTP: Basically all of the BakuSquad, though Kirishima gets a special mention.

OTP: BakuDeku. Though I’m also partial to BakuOcha if the build-up to it is satisfactory to my tastes and BakuToga is a dynamic I’ve been thinking about *a lot* lately...

nOTP: Any of the teachers, Shigaraki, basically most of the villains

Random headcanon: The reason he wears the U.A. uniform ‘delinquent style’ and categorically refuses to wear a tie is because of trauma from the sludge villain incident, later made worse by being restrained and muzled at the Sports Festival and then again when he was kidnapped from the summer camp.

Unpopular opinion: He’s badass and no one can say otherwise, yet he’s also a complete damsel in distress. He’s Mr. Gets-Saved-All-The-Time. There’s the obvious stuff like the sludge villain and the kidnapping, but there’s also the ‘smaller’ stuff that doesn’t seem as serious but definitely chipps away at his self-confidence (and the image of him as someone undefeatable) like the time during the provisional licence exam when Kirishima pushed him out of the way of the ‘meat ball Quirk’ (though it only saved him temporarily). In fact, out of everyone in 1-A, he’s the person who got hurt the least not matter what kind of shit hit the fan and while that’s partly due to his combat skills and stuff, it’s also because, compared to any other character (and especially among 1-A) he gets saved the most while others have to get out of trouble by themselves more often than not. No wonder his superiority-inferiority complex nuked if you think about it :’3

Song I associate with him: The Final Countdown by Europe

Favorite picture of him: Hard to pick just one, but if I have to... it’s gotta be the winter costume reveal :3c

All Might

Favorite thing: His character developpment. He started off as a great hero, but an awful character for me due to his one-dimensional portrayal (hero first... and basically nothing else. Read further down for more on this). He’s come so far since then as a man, as a teacher, as a father figure, as a mentor... I love this developpment :’3

Least favorite thing: His absolute idiocy when it comes to teaching, especially about stuff pertaining Izuku and OfA (and AfO). He’s half the reason Izuku thinks his breaking his bones is just ‘a price he needs to pay’ if he’s not ‘strong enough to win without taking that risk’ in a given moment (-_-)

Favorite line: "If you can learn to respect each other and lift each other up you can become the ultimate heroes. Ones who save by winning and win by saving.”

brOTP: Sir Nighteye.

OTP: I don’t really ship him with anyone, but I guess I’m not against YagInko

nOTP: AfO

Random headcanon: Until he looses OfA once and for all (and even long afterwards), he doesn’t see himself as ‘Yagi Toshinori’, but just as ‘All Might’. The Symbol of Peace. The number one hero. He who always smiles, always wins and never fails. Yagi Toshinori, the normal person? He might as well be dead. Until he’s forced to the forefront because All Might needs to retire and suddenly he needs to live but All Might has no idea how to live as ‘Yagi Toshinori’, as a normal person, anymore :(

Unpopular opinion: He’s very strong and a very capable hero, obviously... but he’s also atrocious at his job at the same time. Look at how he neglected to call the ambulance after Izuku nearly drowned with the sludge villain! Or how he was about to leave just after he woke up! How he woke him up in the first place by slapping him on the cheek instead of, you know, checking his vitals! And only after he collected the sludge villain into a bottle and signed his notebook. All Might, you’re a great hero. You really are. But fucking Hell, read up on your ‘first aid response in case of crisis’ at least one or ten more times, won’t you?

Song I associate with him: The Sound of Silence by Simon&Grafunkel (for the melancholy side of his character connected to my headcanon :’3)

Favorite picture of him: The first time we saw him really pissed

Kirishima Eijirou

Favorite thing: His dedication and loyalty to his friends, particularly Katsuki. ‘Nuff said.

Least favorite thing: His self-confidence issues and the way he puts his Quirk down as ‘boring’ in the beginning of the manga. Mostly because it’s so damn relatable but I just want to smack him across the head and tell him to stop being an idiot because he’s awesome already, he just has to see it for himself :’3

Favorite line: "When I heard that they were after my buddy, I couldn’t do anything! I didn’t do anything! If I don’t act now, forget being a hero, I’M NOT EVEN A MAN!!!”

brOTP: With Katsuki.

OTP: KiriMina, definitely. Although KiriDeku is cute, too :3

nOTP: Overhaul. And generally truly evil villains. Also all of the teachers.

Random headcanon: He didn’t originally intent to actually become Katsuki’s friend (because he’s ‘not cool enough’), he just wanted to observe him from afar, learn from his confidence, maybe emulate him a bit. But then USJ happened (it was the first time they’ve really properly interacted if you recall and Eijirou saw the first short glimpse of something beyond the anger and vitriol Katsuki spewed on the regular and not becoming friends with him has been a lost cause from there.

Unpopular opinion: Beware the Nice Ones is a big thing with him. Much like Deku, you do not want to piss this cinnamon roll off, not unless you want him to turn very feral very fast. (Though I’m admittedly not sure it counts as an ‘unpopular opinion’ LOL)

Song I associate with him: The Eye of the Tiger by Survivor

Favorite picture of him: Definitely Kiri’s Big Bad Hero moment :’3

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Wet Sugar” [Part 19 of 30]

Summary: Erik teaches Yani a lesson and change is in the air...

NSFW. Mature Audience. Smut.

"Sunshine & the rain Sunshine & the rain I'm feelin that pressure, now, now I'm feelin that same old round and round I can't go forward

I need a boost to catapult me high feels like the come up is way too tight chokin and squeezin' my life, every time"

Joi—"Sunshine & The Rain"

Yani knew Erik watched her from the security cams when she left for the night. She made sure to walk in front of all visible optics in case Neal was lurking for her too. Huntsman commenting on her relationship with Erik frightened her. Did Klaue know about it too?

The thought worried her all night when she slept at Leona's apartment. When she arrived back at the compound to cook breakfast and prep for the dinner meal, she stayed in the front house the entire time. It wasn't until the men left for the day to explore island bars that she even took a bit of time to walk down to the cove to relax. Erik was gone with the men. She had hoped that he could stay behind with her, but he made a point of driving the others into town. She asked him to pick up bottled water and extra batteries just in case they needed them.

The sky was even grayer when the men returned late in the evening. She ignored them all, including Erik. The standing freezer had an abundance of nickel-sized scallops and prosciutto. Yani cooked thin spaghetti noodles with fish sauce and fresh garlic with the scallops and tossed together an Italian salad with the thin slices of cured ham. This particular crew wasn't particular or even cared for dessert, so she watched them eat her food and quickly cleaned up after them when they were done.

She heard Erik talking to the others in the front house den. He was encouraging the men to leave early in the morning before the storm arrived, but the captain of the boat had trepidations about sailing back to Florida. Erik mentioned Puerto Rico but there was grumbling. The point became moot when one of the men turned up the view screen and the weather report was dire. The storm had grown and would pass by the island sooner than originally predicted.

The men would stay longer.

Erik sent her a text.

Go home and don't come back here until I tell you. Get to safety with your family.

She quickly texted him back.

If it gets bad, the safest place here is under the middle house. There is a large crawlspace there right under the kitchen window outside. The panic room is only for you. No one else.

Hug the baby for me.

Yani put together a to-go plate for herself and slipped away from the grounds without the men noticing.

Her Aunt and cousins made plans to stay in a shelter and she packed up pull-ups and baby food for Sydette and a small clothing bag for herself. Piling blankets in her car, she drove herself, Sydette and Twyla to the church shelter they had used since she was a child. It was better to be safe than sorry, and the other islanders who thought the same were already hunkering down for the night. As a child she had survived a Category 3 storm, so she was only slightly anxious with a Category 2 on the way.

The entire night she listened to prayers, a short sermon from the Pastor, and soft whispers from all around her as they all waited to see what the next day would bring. She dozed off around two in the morning but was abruptly woken up with Sydette clutched in her embrace as the wind howled outside the church. It was seven in the morning but darkness surrounded them.

Yani sat up and looked at Leona and Twyla.

"How bad is it?" she asked.

"We were lucky. The hurricane died down and didn't even come near us. Right now we are getting the tail end of a strong tropical storm. Praise God. Them say it'll pass through by evening," Leona said.

Yani exhaled with relief.

She changed Sydette's pull up and cleaned her hands with hand sanitizer before opening up a jar of baby food.

"We should go home," Twyla said.

"I think we should stay until we know for sure it is safe," Leona said.

Yani checked her cell. Erik sent a few texts while she was asleep. It looked like he was awake all night by the number of messages he left for her and the baby. She texted him back letting him know her family's plan to stay at the church longer. She was glad that their cell phones still worked.

Food was served throughout the day and by early evening, the winds had died away leaving a summer rain and the winking of sun rays peeking through the last of the clouded sky. She packed up her things and drove back to Leona's.

There was a time-sensitive notification in her emails that jumped out at her as she contacted relatives in the states to let them know they were okay. Although cell service worked on the island, it was crackly and hard to hear when they tried calling overseas.

The email was from the University.

A nursing student had dropped out of the early summer track for three online classes and Yani was offered the spot because of her high entry test scores. She accepted quickly and took a deep breath. She was going to start school sooner than expected. It meant she could qualify for three prerequisites for the newly created nurse/midwife track she wanted to get into. It also meant she had a shot at entering the accelerated program that was opening the following Spring.

It was happening.

Her career goals were coming to fruition.

Yani took a moment sitting in front of her Aunt's desktop computer in the living room. She touched her chest and felt her heart pounding. As long as she kept up her grades she would succeed. Gratefulness swelled inside of her. The time Erik gave her to relax and do some self-study on her own made her feel confident accepting the early start. She could do this. For herself and her baby.

She grabbed her phone.

"Killmonger."

"You and the baby good?"

Hearing his voice made her eyes water. She was glad she didn't face chat him.

"We're fine. Back at Auntie's. Killmonger…I get to start school early."

"Yeah?"

She spilled out her good news and Twyla walked in on her and saw the joy on her face. Her cousin's hand rubbing her back at the news made Yani feel happy.

School would start in a week.

She was ready.

###

Erik didn't allow Yani to return to the compound until the mercs had left.

He baked her a cake to congratulate her on her early start for school, and he damn near ran to her car when she pulled onto the property with the baby. His hand gripped her neck so tight once he had her in his arms. He didn't allow Sydette to leave his side once he had her back with him. The mercs leaving along with the storm made the compound feel light and free again.

Watching Yani eat the cake he made while feeding some to Sydette calmed his nerves. Their first night back together had them all cuddled together in one bed, and he spent the rest of the week spoiling Yani with fancy food, back rubs, foot massages and nights out with her friends while he looked after the baby.

Her last night going out before she started her classes found him cooking oxtails the way Leona showed him how to do it and attempting to make a decent batch of stew peas and rice. Sydette ran around him in the kitchen of Klaue's main house while Yani got showered for her evening of fun. He made the food for Yani's return because she was always starving after a late night out.

Packing the food up into the fridge, he gathered Sydette's overnight bag and carried the baby into the master bedroom.

"Aye Sweet Pea, say bye-bye to Mama. Kiss!" Yani said holding out her hands for Sydette.

Draped in a fluffy white bathrobe and face unmade, Erik watched Yani give smooches all over Sydette's face.

"Be a good girl for Twyla," she said.

"Be back," he said.

Taking Sydette away from her, Erik drove to Leona's and handed the baby over to Twyla. By the time he made it back to the compound, Yani had on her make-up and her clothes…

"The fuck you wearing?"

She stood in front of the master bedroom vanity mirror primping and smoothing oil onto her platinum-colored hair. Face beat like a Boss Bitch, her eyes dragged away from her own visage and gazed at him.

"What you mean?"

"Bend over."

Yani leaned forward slightly and the short form-fitting white shirt she was wearing like a mini dress raised up and he could see the underside of her ass cheeks clear as day.

"Nah…nah…put some pants on or get something else on—"

"Serious?"

She sucked her teeth at him.

"You ain't got no panties on—"

"Yes, I do."

She lifted up the dress higher and he saw silky white boy shorts.

Erik twisted up his lips. He didn't want to be that dude. He didn't want to sound or look like an insecure pooh butt. Women could wear what they wanted. He appreciated women who dressed sexy and were confident in that sexiness.

However…

"Yani, these niggas be ruthless in the club. Why you gotta have so much ass out? You know they gonna push up on you…I can see your cheeks, girl—"

"Barely. Just tell me you don't wahn mi grindin' on niggas—"

"I don't want you grindin' on niggas with that dress on."

"I'm not changing clothes."

She put her hand on her hip and her eyes challenged him to say different.

He fell back and watched her slip on her heels and grab her small purse.

"Who's picking you up?"

"Lesonne. I'm catching a cab back if I get tired early…stop trippin'. It's really not that short…"

His eyes dragged down to her thighs. He could see the tops of them. The dress shirt flared out on the sides hanging low enough to cover her hips, but the cut still showed a lot from the front and back.

Let her show off in peace.

The click-clack of her silver heels on the tiled floor broke him out of his thoughts of making her stay home with him. He seriously thought of going with her, but she was so bubbly gossiping with her girlfriends that he had to figure out why he was so agitated about a dress. A stupid dress he would've lusted over himself had he seen her in a club with it on. He would've been one of the men pushing up on her if he didn't know her.

She checked her phone.

"They're on their way," she said.

He followed her up to the main gate of the compound, and the longer they walked with her ahead of him, the more time he had to look at her hips twisting as she walked, her thighs all out teasing him. Erik felt that gnawing need to control what was happening. He reached out and stroked the right curve off her ass.

"Don't have them dudes—"

She brushed his hand away from her body.

His eyes narrowed and he pulled her arm back toward him.

"Are you listening to me?"

"I'll be a good girl."

She said the words, but the twist of her lips told him otherwise. He reached behind her and slapped her ass. Hard.

"Ow!"

She punched him in his chest.

"I'll be up waiting for you."

"I may not be back until early tomorrow."

Now he was really irritated.

"So what was the point of me taking Sydette to your Aunt's? We were supposed to have a grown- up night together before you start school—"

"I told you that I wasn't sure when I would be back—"

"You said no later than one or two."

"Well, it may be later than that—"

"So we not fucking?"

She checked her cell and fixed the thin white belt that cinched her waist.

"We'll see how I feel when I get back."

She rubbed his arm and turned around to show him her backside. Jiggling her cheeks, she giggled at him with her teasing.

"See, now you're being mean," he said.

He took his flat palm and smacked the shit out of her rump. She yelped and rubbed her ass.

"Save that for when I get—"

He yanked her panties down and slapped her vulva.

"Killmonger!"

Her hands tried to block his.

"Take them off."

"They're going to be here—"

"Take them off."

They heard Lesonne's car roll to the front of the gate, music blaring, tires screeching to a halt. Yani's phone vibrated in her purse. She pulled it out.

"Tell her you'll be out in a minute," he whispered.

Her fingers swiped her phone screen and she put her cell back in her purse.

"Panties."

Yani stepped out of her tiny boy shorts and held them. He moved up against her and traced his finger along her lips, the red matte lipstick rich on her mouth. He bent down and kissed her, serving her his warm tongue and he felt her body go limp against his.

Slipping two fingers between her legs, he separated her folds. She tugged on the bulge in his jeans. Inserting his fingers into her pussy, he thrust in and out slowly making her squirm. Her hand made his dick lift up so that it pointed at her.

"You wore that dress just to fuck with me," he whispered.

Her eyes were glassy and her pussy was dripping. The sticky fluid from her body made squishy sounds. He kept manipulating her folds until her legs shook. She vacillated between biting her lips, staring down at his fingers, and closing her eyes as he varied the depth and speed of his digits inside of her.

"Erik…fuck…"

"You come home at a decent hour so I can get in all this. Hear?"

Yani bit her lips as she tried to stifle the tiny groans coming from her mouth.

"I should fuck you right now, right here," he said.

"They're waiting…"

"So."

"Huuhnnn…"

Her hands rested against his chest, her warm fingers, pushing him back.

Hooking his fingers, Erik tapped on her walls and let his thumb flick over her clit.

"I should pick you up and let you slide down this dick. Fuck you standing up—"

"Stop!"

Yani removed his fingers from her slit and stepped away from him.

"Let me get going. I'll let you have it all when I get back."

He spun her around and pushed her against the gate. Dropping to his knees he pulled her soft ass cheeks apart and shoved his entire face into her pussy lips.

He heard Yani's hands slam against the metal gate bracing herself and she pushed her backside out giving him even more access to her private parts. Sliding his tongue along her outer labia, he licked his bottom lip that was wet with saliva.

He heard faint sounds escape her mouth as she tried to keep quiet as her friends waited on the other side of the gate. Shoving his tongue deep inside of her, Yani rocked her hips back to smash her ass into his face and he loved it. He gripped his dick through his pants and squeezed his balls to keep himself from cumming. He wanted to be knee-deep in her walls when he did that.

Removing his tongue, he let Yani's ass strike his face, getting his beard drenched with her sweet fluids. He had her soaking wet. It was time to make her pussy submit. Erik became a flurry of fingers and wet tongue kissing as he licked her engorged labia like icing off a cake. Bathing her pussy with his saliva, he dragged his tongue along all the sensitive parts that made her melt in his mouth.

"Daddy gon' chop this peach up when you get back."

He felt the heavy throbbing weight between his legs and before the surge from his balls could overtake him, Yani shuddered while his lips sucked on her clit, her release making her plump vulva spasm.

"Pussy sloppy, baby…"

He licked up all the excess juices that poured from her and kissed her folds gently, his full lips pressing against her skin, still feeling the slight spasms from the tail end of her orgasm.

"Watch yourself," he said.

She pulled her panties back on while he stood up and adjusted his dick. He was so horny for her.

"Just gonna leave Daddy like this?"

She rolled her eyes and he opened the gate for her.

His erection grew more rigid as he watched her walk away from him and get into the car.

Such a tease.

###

Erik surveyed some gun schematics on his laptop. It was nearing midnight and he was restless. He had tried to watch porn earlier, but none of the women he saw online excited him enough to rub one out. All he had eyes for was Yani and that mini dress. He took out some weed he got from Kendall and rolled a tight one. The baby wasn't there so he felt cool about indulging.

His cell buzzed and when he checked it, there were a series of pictures that Yani sent him. A few group shots with her friends, but a few with men at the club posing with her crew, and sure enough, that fucking dress was doing too much.

He went back to looking at gun designs and another text blew up his phone.

A video.

Yani and her girls dancing, but Yani was winding on some Rasta looking clown who was pressed up against her.

"See, this the shit I was talking about," he grumbled.

It didn't matter. He was going to use up a whole bottle of lube when she came home. A long drag on his herb had him toasted. Shit was potent as fuck.

The clip was only a minute long but long enough to let him know she was buzzing and showing off. Her girlfriends were egging her on and just as tipsy and feisty as she was.

He texted her.

Slow your roll, Ma. For real.

You not my daddy, lol!

She sent him more pictures, trying her best to be provocative. He didn't fall for it.

It wasn't until he saw a thirty-second video clip of another man grinding on her and patting her vulva through her dress that he jumped off the couch.

###

"We run tings. Tings nuh run we!"

The Flourgon song made Yani's hips dip, and she watched the crowd dance while she sipped on her apple martini in the V.I.P. section she reserved for her friends. It was ladies' night, and this particular club was a diverse mix of locals and white tourists. She liked the booth they were set up in. They could see what was happening around the club, but other patrons couldn't see what they were doing.

All of her friends were happy for her, and she was cutting up in the club with them, feeling powerful and ready to take on the world. Bottle service was popping and she was given extra drinks for free because of her connection to Kendall who had performed there the previous weekend.

The music switched to R&B and Yani followed her friends onto the floor and they became ridiculous with their dancing. She kicked off her heels and swung them in her hand as she downed shots and sang off-key to the music with her girls.

She took out her cell and took more video shots to send to Erik. She posted two pictures on her social media page of the group shots she had in their V.I.P. booth. On her way back to her section, she stopped by the bar to order hot wings and potato poppers to snack on and soak up the liquor in her belly.

Stepping near her booth, Lesonne tugged on her arm.

"Is that your man?"

Yani was confused by the question until she saw Erik bee-lining his way toward her. His lips were tight when he reached her group.

"There she is, Miz fatness."

The gruff island voice startled Yani as a man she had danced with earlier rubbed up against her, his hand sliding around her waist, his locs falling against her cheek.

In front of Erik.

Her man's eyes lowered to stare at the stranger's hand and Yani moved up on the single step that led to her booth to separate herself from the man. Her friends filed behind her, their eyes taking in the whole scene.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

Erik shoved past the other man, his shoulder knocking him aside.

"Aye!"

"Fuck you want?" Erik said.

The stranger looked Erik up and down, and what he saw made him move along without another word.

Yani's friends stood away from them, leaning against the railing that separated their section. They looked out onto the dance floor. The tone of Erik's voice made Yani nervous.

"Why yuh here?"

She eased him into a corner of their section where no one on the floor could see them too well. But her friends could hear everything.

"You tryna be too cute. That's why I'm here. Got niggas touching your pussy in public—"

Yani heard her friend Milah let out an "Ooh…I knew it."

His eyes were on her dress again.

"Please. Don't make a scene, man. Not here. We're having a good time. You didn't need to come down here to tell me that. Coulda texted—"

"Nah, you wanted this attention."

His eyes were blazing. She caught a whiff of weed from his breath.

Lesonne placed a shot glass into Erik's hand.

"Drink up. It's a celebration," Lesonne said.

Erik tossed back the tequila and Yani moved over to the railing to watch the crowd and divert Erik's attention. She was shocked when she felt his palm strike under her ass. He pressed up against her and let his hands grip the railing, trapping her there. His hot breath tickled her ear as he leaned in to whisper.

"Didn't I tell you to watch yourself before you left? You think I was playing?"

"It was nothin'."

His hand reached down and clutched at her mound.

"He had his hand on you like this. Bitch, I can feel how fat your puss is through this dress. You let that nigga touch my shit."

Yani's eyes darted to the side. All four of her friends had their eyes glued to the dance floor, but she knew their ears were stinging from Erik's words.

"Let's talk about this at home—"

"No."

His voice was raspy against her ear.

"You tryna get fucked in the club?"

Now he was getting loud. She tried to turn around but he kept her in place, his groin shoved hard against her ass. She turned her head and his lips met hers. He wasn't gentle with her mouth, but he was gentle with his hips rocking into her. He dropped his right hand down and wiggled his fingers under the front of her dress and slipped them down her panties. The stimulation from his fingers across her plump clit had her mewling and pushing back against him. The blood in her body thrummed hot as his tongue slid against hers. No matter what happened between them, his kisses always disarmed her.

Her head dropped forward when his fingers sunk into her pussy.

"This what you wanted?"

"Ooh."

He was digging deep.

"I saw you out there dancing. All this big ass out in the open…"

Her friends pretended not to notice, but they could hear everything. Even her wet folds being assailed by his hand.

Erik removed his hand from her slit for a few seconds, and she felt him unzip his pants and lift up the back of her dress. She gripped her fingers around the railing. Two of her friends slipped away to the dance floor. The other two stood rooted, heads facing forward. Erik yanked her panties down to her knees.

Her skin felt tingly and once she felt him lining his glans against her opening, she accepted what she had done. She wanted to incite his ardor. She wanted to flaunt her body to get him enflamed for her. She wanted him begging for her pussy. At home.

But no.

He drove all the way across the island, walked into this club so he could-

"Fuck, Killmonger!"

His dick stretched out her opening, and from the angle he entered her, the head of his dick tugged down on her clit and the sensation shot out a hot ripple of pleasure up to her nipples and down to her toes.

From the floor, if anyone looked up, they would simply look like a couple hugged up watching the action. Erik kept his hands gripped on her waist as he rocked into her.

"Fucking slut."

His words slurred in her ear.

"Look at your friends. Making them watch Daddy fuck you like this."

Her eyes flicked over to glance at Milah and Lesonne who stayed behind. Milah's eyes were brazen and aroused watching Yani get pounded in public. Her eyes trailed down Yani's body until she was staring at Erik's dick pumping in and out of her.

"Shit, Yani. Yuh nasty. Him beating up that pum pum," Milah said.

Erik dragged her over to the back of the VIP section and away from her friends, his dick still rooted deep within her. He grabbed her arms to balance himself and really started to thrust. Yani chewed on her lips trying to keep quiet, but a few cries got out, drowned by the loud bass thudding throughout the club. Her balance was thrown off when he released her arms and she reached out to hold onto the wall.

Erik yanked her underwear back up as he pulled out.

"Be still."

She whimpered as he placed his erection between her thighs and jerked off his load into her panties. He swallowed the grunts in his throat as the last of his semen spilled out.

"Pull your panties back up," he said.

Yani did as she was told, her soaked underwear sticking to her vulva. She smoothed down her dress and still felt the thumping of her clit. She turned to face him and he zipped up his pants.

"Let somebody touch my shit now, girl."

He looked at her friends who avoided eye contact with both of them and left her standing there. They watched him move through the crowd, his swagger so acute that Yani had to pour herself a glass of champagne and gulp it down.

Panties filled with cum and a face filled with embarrassment, Yani said nothing to Milah or Lesonne.

###

Erik was reading in bed when Yani returned to the compound. He'd been at the house for over an hour before she came back.

She showered and crawled onto the bed next to him. He ignored her, even though she was butt naked. After a time, he put the book on the nightstand and looked at her.

"Rest of the night was cool?"

"Yeah."

His eyes tried not to stare at her body too much, but he couldn't help it. Her face looked pouty. He pinched one of her nipples.

"You fucked me in front of my friends."

"So. They didn't look bothered by it. They say something?"

"Not really."

"You need to apologize to me."

"For what?"

"Making me come out there. I had shit to do here. But you got out of pocket. Stole some work time from me."

Her fingers stroked his naked chest tracing the skin between his keloids.

"I'm sorry."

"Nah. Not like that. You know what I want."

He pulled the covers back from his body and lifted up his dick. Her fingers clasped it and she lowered her head and wrapped her lips around it.

"Damn," he hissed.

Once she had him standing at attention, her fingers slipped between her legs and she fondled her clit.

"Get it ready for me. You got some making up to do."

Her mouth sucked and licked up and down the sides of his length and he groaned from her loving tongue swiping against his balls. He reached for the lube next to his book and slathered his dick with it.

"Turn around. Sideways," he directed her.

He tilted his hips to the left slightly and Yani lowered her ass, her fingers holding open her labia.

"Slide down Daddy's dick, baby."

She was on her hands and knees and he had the pleasure of watching her entire side view as she bounced on his dick. His left hand rested on her ass cheek.

"I'm sorry, Daddy."

"Show me."

Her breasts jiggled and he reached over to play with her big nipple. She had a steady rhythm.

"You gon' let some other nigga touch my pussy again?"

Her lips curled up and she shook her head vigorously when he started thrusting up into her.

"What? I didn't hear you."

Her hand reached back and touched his side.

"Ooomph…Daddy!"

He was stretching her out real good.

"Answer me."

He slapped her backside. She leaned down on her elbows and pressed her face into the mattress. That wouldn't do. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to face him. She plucked on her nipples and pushed her breasts together for him. Her pussy was squeezing him while he let her do most of the work. He slapped the side of her hip and her eyes shot open.

"You betta answer me—"

"I won't let no one touch my pussy…just you…just you."

"This pussy is so good…you liked it when Daddy fucked you at the club, huh?"

"Yeah."

"You liked your friends watching me dick you down, huh?"

Her pussy clenched around him.

"Yeah, you liked that shit. You liked them seeing what you get all the time. Daddy's big dick all in your fat pussy."

She was wailing as she bounced on his dick. He played with her nipple and watched his thickness split her good. He lifted up and held her back, widening his thighs so he could get his balls all up in her ass. He held her in that position for a long time, punishing her folds until she was begging him to let her cum.

"Don't you ever let me catch you with some other man's hand on this pussy. Hear me?"

"Yeah!"

Erik pulled out and pushed her onto her stomach. He climbed on top of her and inserted his dick once more. He gave her slow thrusts until her fingers were clawing the pillows.

"Cum on me, Yani."

She screamed his name and fell apart on his dick. He didn't wait for her to finish as he sped up his pace and then pulled her on her knees so he could watch her rock back onto his length.

"Had all my cum in your panties…"

"Yeah…"

"You liked that, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

He groaned out loud.

"Cum in me, Daddy."

"Whatchu want Daddy to do? Tell me again…"

"Cum in my pussy…"

"…fill your pussy up?"

"Make a big mess, Daddy…"

"Like I did at the club?"

"Yeah."

"Wet your pussy up like I did those panties?"

"Please—"

"Tell me—"

"I want you to wet my pussy up. Make a big mess like you put in my panties—"

"That's what you want?"

"Yeah."

"You like it when I make you sloppy—"

"Yeah."

"Give you a big cream pie—"

"Mmmhmmm."

"Ah shit-!"

It never failed. Talking to her while watching the sexy dimpling in her ass, her thighs striking his, it never took long for him to let go whenever he was ready. He ejaculated, the tight pulling on his balls letting him know he had emptied out another huge load.

He stayed in her pussy for the rest of the night, fucking her until she fell asleep in his arms. The bottle of lube was empty like he thought it would be.

###

Erik worked hard to get a workable mock-up of the weapons he wanted to convert with the vibranium. He found it hard to concentrate for the last few weeks because he and Yani had both been busy. Sex was infrequent, and she was gone from the compound a lot. He thought her online classes would keep her close, but it actually took her away. She started a study group with a few other online students on the island and met with them three times a week. Her courses were time-consuming and her energy was spent on assignments, getting high grades on her quizzes and tests, and caring for Sydette. She was mentally drained by the end of the day and was often knocked out by the time he joined her in bed at night.

He felt displaced.

Their life had been perfect, but now he was losing her to school.

When her midterm rolled around and they were easing into August, she dropped some news on him that upset him. The apartment she was going to share with her roommate was available and the leasing agent wanted her and her roommate to take it right away or risk losing it to another tenant. She wanted to move out right away. Her roommate was ready to get the apartment too.

She told him while he took out braids from Sydette's hair on the porch.

Yani was going to settle on the other side of the island with the baby, leaving him at the compound alone.

As always, when it rained, it poured.

While Yani went out for several days with her roommate to buy furniture and cookware for her new apartment, he received word from Klaue: he was coming back to St. Thomas.

Early.

###

Chapter 20 Here

Tag List:

@fd-writes​ @soufcakmistress  @cherrystainedlipsbaby @tclaybon  @thadelightfulone

@allhailqueennel @bartierbakarimobisson @cpwtwot @shookmcgookqueen @yoyolovesbucky

@raysunshine78 @the-illllest @terrablaze514  @l-auteuse @amirra88 @jimizwidow @janelledarling

@chaneajoyyy @sweetestdream92 @purple-apricots @blackpinup22 @hennessystevens-udaku

@scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @bugngiz @stariamrry  @honeytoffee @meilintheempressofdreams

@tyees @eye-raq @writerbee-ffs

[mxenigmatic]

2020’s Self Care Books for Trying Times

With Covid-19 a global pandemic that is still lingering in the air, and keeping our connections at a social distance, added how here at NYPL our librarians miss the frequent interactions with our patrons, I was contemplating on ways to keep our reading connected, our souls warm, and our health having its self care. Before google, I’d rely on the plethora of information our branches hold on any challenge in life I’d be facing. Now with a myriad of problems we can tackle, and resources we can all use to improve our lives, I wanted to tackle grounding and elevating ourselves to cope with our surroundings, than advice I can provide on financial, relationship, life goals, etc.

In this blog “2020’s Self Care Books 4 Trying Times” I’ve comprised my 20 favorite titles for the year 2020 on wellness, people’s journeys, and how health experts can help guide us to a calm and vibrant place for our wellbeing. From parenting tips, to self acceptance, coping with a mental health disorder, or even self care rituals, the need for healthy habits is a topic we all can relate and rely on to keep us striving through this winter, and being united through our current unstable climate. We should never be ashamed of our experiences, asking for help, and addressing challenges in our lives to be at peace with our pasts, content with our present, and hopeful about our futures.

What is Self-care, according to very well mind, describes a conscious act one takes in order to promote their own physical, mental, and emotional health. There are many forms self-care may take. It could be ensuring you get enough sleep every night or stepping outside for a few minutes for some fresh air.

What is mindfulness? Mindfulness refers to being in the moment. This means feeling what our bodies feel, letting ourselves think without judging our thoughts, and being aware of our environment. It is about paying attention on purpose to both what is happening inside and outside of you.

ADULT

The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People: Powerful Lessons in Personal Change by Stephen R. Covey

Topics: Professional Development, Success, Psych Evaluation

One of the most inspiring and impactful books ever written, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People has captivated readers for nearly three decades. It has transformed the lives of presidents and CEOs, educators and parents—millions of people of all ages and occupations. Now, this 30th anniversary edition of the timeless classic commemorates the wisdom of the 7 habits with modern additions from Sean Covey. The 7 habits have become famous and are integrated into everyday thinking by millions and millions of people. Why? Because they work!With Sean Covey's added takeaways on how the habits can be used in our modern age, the wisdom of the 7 habits will be refreshed for a new generation of leaders.

Stay Positive: Encouraging Quotes and Messages to Fuel Your Life With Positive Energy by Jon Gordon

Topics: Self Help, Affirmations, Optimism

Stay Positive is more than a phrase. It's an approach to life that says when you get knocked down, you'll get back up and find a way forward one faithful step and optimistic day at a time. Start your day with a message from the book, or pick it up anytime you need a mental boost. You can start from the beginning, or open the book to any page and find a message that speaks to you. The book is a go-to resource for anyone wanting to inject a healthy dose of positivity into their life

$9 Therapy: Semi-Capitalist Solutions to Your Emotional Problems by Megan Reid and Nick Greene

Topics: Life Skills/Hacks, Self Care Rituals, Budgeting

A collection of the authors' favorite life hacks and mini-upgrades, such as craft cocktails on the cheap or tips for a perfectly planned staycation. Sometimes it takes as little as nine dollars to turn your life around. How to find simple pleasures in a pricey, wellness-obsessed world.

You Were Born For This: Astrology for Radical Self-Acceptance by Chani Nicholas

Topics: Astrology, Self Acceptance

A revolutionary empowerment book that uses astrology as a tool for self-discovery, success, and self-care from the beloved astrologer Chani Nicholas, a media darling with a loyal following of one million monthly readers.

TEEN

Teaching Mindfulness to Empower Adolescents by Matthew Brensilver

Topics: Mindfulness, Educational Guides, Learning Disabilities, Reflections

Effectively sharing mindfulness with teenagers depends on distinct skill sets . . . done well, it is incredibly joyous." Matthew Brensilver, JoAnna Hardy and Oren Jay Sofer provide a powerful guide to help teachers master the essential competencies needed to successfully share mindfulness practices with teens and adolescents. Incorporating anecdotes from actual teaching, they blend the latest scientific research with innovative, original techniques for making the practices accessible and interesting to this age group. This text is an indispensable handbook for mindfulness instruction in its own right, and a robust companion volume for teachers using The Mindful Schools Curriculum for Adolescents

The Self-Love Revolution: Radical Body Positivity for Girls of Color by Virgie Tovar

Topics: Self Esteem, Plus Size Positivity, Hygiene

Every day we see body ideals depicted in movies, magazines, and social media. And, all too often, these outdated standards make us feel like we need to change how we look and who we are. The truth is that many teens feel self-conscious about their bodies and being a teen girl of color is hard in unique ways. So, how can you start feeling good about yourself when you're surrounded by these unrealistic, and problematic images of what bodies are "supposed" to look like? This book is an unapologetic guide to help you embrace radical body positivity. You'll identify and challenge mainstream beliefs about beauty and bodies; celebrate what makes you unique and powerful; and build real, lasting body empowerment. You'll also learn how to spot diet culture and smash your noisy inner critic so you can start loving your body. It's time to create your own definition of beautiful and recognize that your body is amazing. It's time for a self-love revolution!

Out!: How To Be Your Authentic Self by Miles McKenna

Topics: Coming Out, Self Acceptance, Family Dynamics

Activist Miles McKenna came out on his YouTube channel in 2017, documenting his transition to help other teens navigate their identities and take charge of their own coming out stories. From that wisdom comes Out!, the ultimate YA guide to the queer lifestyle. Find validation, inspiration, and support for your questions big and small--whether you're exploring your identity or seeking to understand the experience of an awesome queer person in your life."

Dancing at the Pity Party: A Dead Mom Graphic Memoir by Tyler Feder

Topics: Grief Counseling, Coping with terminal illness, Bereavement. Family Estrangement

Tyler Feder shares her story of her mother's first oncology appointment to facing reality as a motherless daughter in this frank and refreshingly funny graphic memoir.

Superpowered: Transform Anxiety Into Courage, Confidence, and Resilience by Renee Jain and Dr. Shefali Tsabary

Topics: Health, Fitness, Selt Esteem.

The perfect tool for children facing new social and emotional challenges in an increasingly disconnected world! This how-to book from two psychology experts—packed with fun graphics and quizzes—will help kids transform stress, worry, and anxiety

Teen Guide to Mental Health by Don Nardo

Topics: Teens, Mental Health, Body Image, Puberty

Todays teens face and are expected to deal with a wide array of personal, social, and other issues involving home-life, school, dating, body image, sexual orientation, major life transitions, and in some cases physical and mental problems, including eating disorders and depression. This volume examines how many teens have learned to cope with and survive these often stressful trials and tribulations of modern youth.

KIDS

Turtle Boy by Evan Wolkenstein

Topics: Social Life, Friends, Relationships, School Stress

Seventh grade is not going well for Will Levine. Kids at school bully him because of his funny-looking chin. His science teacher finds out about the turtles he spent his summer collecting from the marsh behind school an orders him to release them back into the wild. And for his Bar Mitzvah community service project, he has to go to the hospital to visit RJ, an older boy struggling with an incurable disease. Unfortunately, Will hates hospitals. At first, the boys don't get along, but then RJ shares his bucket list with Will. Among the things he wants to do: ride a roller coaster, go to a concert and a school dance, swim in the ocean. To Will, happiness is hanging out in his room, alone, preferably with his turtles. But as RJ's disease worsens, Will realizes he needs to tackle the bucket list on his new friend's behalf before it's too late. It seems like an impossible mission, way outside Will's comfort zone. But as he completes each task with RJ's guidance, Will learns that life is too short to live in a shell.

How To Make A Better World: For Every Kid Who Wants To Make A Difference by Keilly Swift

Topics: Activism, Human Rights, Organizing

If you are a kid with big dreams and a passion for what is right, you're a world-changer in the making. There's a lot that can be changed by just one person, if you know what to do. Start by making yourself into the awesome person you want to be by learning all about self-care and kindness. Using those skills, work your way up to creating activist campaigns to tackle climate change or social injustice. This fun and inspiring guide to making the world a better place and becoming a good citizen is packed with ideas and tips for kids who want to know how to make a difference. From ideas as small as creating a neighborhood lending library to important ideas such as public speaking and how to talk about politics, How to Make a Better World is a practical guide to activism for awesome kids.

All About Anxiety by Carrie Lewis

Anxiety. It's an emotion that rears its head almost every day, from the normal worries and concerns that most of us experience, to outright fear when something scary happens, to the anxiety disorders, that many kids live with daily. But what causes anxiety? And what can we do about it? All About Anxiety tackles these questions from every possible angle. Readers will learn what's going on in their brain and central nervous system when they feel anxious. They'll learn about the evolutionary reasons for fear and anxiety and that anxiety isn't always a bad thing--except for when it is! Most importantly, kids will discover new strategies to manage their anxiety so they can live and thrive with anxiety

Dictionary for a better world: poems, quotes, and anecdotes from A to Z by Irene Latham

Topics: Inspiration, Self Help, Advice

Organized as a dictionary, entries in this book for middle-grade readers present words related to creating a better, more inclusive world. Each word is explored via a poem, a quote from an inspiring person, and a short personal anecdote from one of the co-authors, a prompt for how to translate the word into action, and an illustration".

I feel... meh by DJ Corchin

(E-book)Topics: Health, Fitness, Management

This series helps kids recognize, express, and deal with the roller coaster of emotions they feel every day. It has been celebrated by therapists, psychologists, teachers, and parents as wonderful tools to help children develop self-awareness for their feelings and those of their friends. Sometimes I feel meh and I don't want to play. I don't want to read and I have nothing to say. Sometimes you just feel...meh. You don't really feel like doing anything or talking to anyone. You're not even sure how you're feeling inside. Is that bad? With fun, witty illustrations and simple, straightforward text, I Feel...Meh tackles apathy—recognizing it as a valid emotion, while also offering practical steps to get you out of your emotional slump. It's the perfect way for kids—and adults—who are feeling gray to find some joy again!

Violet Shrink by Christine Baldacchino

Topics: Phobias, Relationships, Social Skills

Violet Shrink doesn't like parties. Or bashes, or gatherings. Lots of people and lots of noise make Violet's tummy ache and her hands sweat. She would much rather spend time on her own, watching the birds in her backyard, reading comics, or listening to music through her purple headphones. The problem is that the whole Shrink family loves parties with loud music and games and dancing. At cousin Char's birthday party, Violet hides under a table and imagines she is a shark gliding effortlessly through the water, looking for food. And at Auntie Marlene and Uncle Leli's anniversary bash, Violet sits alone at the top of the stairs, imagining she is a slithering snake way up in the branches. When Violet learns that the Shrink family reunion is fast approaching, she musters up the courage to have a talk with her dad. In this thoughtful story about understanding and acceptance, Violet's natural introversion and feelings of social anxiety are normalized when she and her father reach a solution together. Christine Baldacchino's warm text demonstrates the role imagination often plays for children dealing with anxiety, and the power of a child expressing their feelings to a parent who is there to listen. Carmen Mok's charming illustrations perfectly capture Violet's emotions and the vibrancy of her imagination. A valuable contribution to books addressing mental health."-- Provided by publisher.

Check out this link to a presentation by NYPL’s Children’s Librarians, Sarah West and Justine Toussaint on Mindfulness/Social-Emotional Self-Esteem Picture Book Spotlight. Featuring popular book titles in our database of the past few years promoting kids well beings!

Pre-2020 Books

Aphorism by Franz Kafka

Topics: Life Quotes, Recovery, Future Planning

For the first time, a single volume that collects all of the aphorisms penned by this universally acclaimed twentieth-century literary figure. Kafka twice wrote aphorisms in his lifetime. The first effort was a series of 109, known as the Zurau Aphorisms, which were written between September 1917 and April 1918, and originally published posthumously by his friend, Max Brod, in 1931. These aphorisms reflect on metaphysical and theological issues--as well as the occasional dog. The second sequence of aphorisms, numbering 41, appears in Kafka's 1920 diary dating from January 6 to February 29. It is in these aphorisms, whose subject is "He," where Kafka distills the unexpected nature of experience as one shaped by exigency and possibility."

This Book Loves You by PewDiePie

Topics: Life Skills, Inspiration, Food 4 Thought

A popular blogger shares humorous pieces of advice and positivity, including "Never forget you are beautiful compared to a fish" and "Every day is a new fresh start to stay in bed."

The Subtle Art Of Not Giving A Fuck: A Counterintuitive Approach To Living A Good Life by Mark Manson

Topic: Self Help, Happiness, Motivation

In this generation-defining self-help guide, a superstar blogger shows us that the key to being happier is to stop trying to be 'positive' all the time and instead become better at handling adversity. For decades we've been told that positive thinking is the key to a happy, rich life. But those days are over. 'Fuck positivity, ' Mark Manson says. 'Let's be honest; sometimes things are fucked up and we have to live with it.' For the past few years, Manson--via his wildly popular blog--has been working on correcting our delusional expectations for ourselves and for the world. He now brings his hard-fought wisdom to this groundbreaking book. Manson makes the argument--backed both by academic research and well-timed poop jokes--that improving our lives hinges not on our ability to turn lemons into lemonade, but on learning to better stomach lemons. Human beings are flawed and limited--as he writes, 'Not everybody can be extraordinary, there are winners and losers in society, and some of it is not fair or your fault.' Manson advises us to get to know our limitations and accept them. This, he says, is the real source of empowerment. Once we embrace our fears, faults, and uncertainties--once we stop running from and avoiding, and start confronting painful truths--we can begin to find the courage and confidence we desperately seek. 'In life, we have a limited amount of fucks to give. So you must choose your fucks wisely.' Manson brings a much-needed grab-you-by-the-shoulders moment of real-talk, filled with entertaining stories and profane, ruthless humor. This manifesto is a refreshing slap in the face for all of us so we can start to lead more contented, grounded lives."

Zen Pencils: Cartoon Quotes From Inspirational Folks by Gavin Aung Than

Topics: Writing Development, Expression, Quotes

Gavin Aung Than, an Australian graphic designer turned cartoonist, started the weekly Zen Pencils blog in February 2012. He describes his motivation for launching Zen Pencils: I was working in the boring corporate graphic design industry for eight years before finally quitting at the end of 2011 to pursue my passion for illustration and cartooning. At my old job, when my boss wasn't looking, I would waste time reading Wikipedia pages, main biographies about people whose lives were a lot more interesting than mine. Their stories and quotes eventually inspired me to leave my job to focus on what I really wanted to do. The idea of taking these inspiring quotes, combining them with my love of drawing, and sharing them with others led to the creation of Zen Pencils.

By: @Mx.Enigma

She/They/Queen

[lifesbecomings]

The email

Hi Drew— I just wanted to  clarify something and share some perspective. First off, I want to say that I understand and respect Denison’s admissions process. I reached out a few days ago to everyone just curious about the process and wanted to talk about options to continue my education, IF even possible, through Denison! With the positive feedback from everyone and your first email, and then mention, even as a slight possibility, of spring enrollment...one certainly can understand my excitement and push for more discussion and my initiative to get applied/enrolled. With that said I am still curious about steps in general. And maybe I applied as the wrong type of student.  I know there are openings still this spring, and especially in the EDUC classes (like EDUC 390), and thought "wow, maybe this is all aligning because it's meant to be."  If it is or isn't meant to be, I'm at peace with whatever the decision is or remains. But Denison will always be my first choice. I did leave in 2017 as a medical leave student, and technically I wasn't pursuing a degree through CCS, just taking classes, many students take summer classes or semesters (like if on academic suspension), and then come back and return to campus. I know usually students typically return 1-2 years, and I understand there are deadlines and I know their importance. In no way shape or form am I trying to surpass these. When I first reached out, I said I'd be happy to discuss ANY options in a return.  Others, throughout the thread, were mentioning a spring return and spring availability and how fantastic this could be. Both Karen Graves and Baker were on board in the Educ. department, where I am majoring, presumably for a spring enrollment.  Maybe it is the fact I only have art credits as transfers. Was it that they were hoping for more core class transfers? Either way, to be perfectly transparent, whatever the outcome is, I will be taking spring classes. As well as summer classes. I want to get my degree. My first choice is Denison. If there is anyway to make this a possibility still. You already know, It would be my pleasure to stay in touch, and I will happily move to Ohio and take classes back on campus in the fall. Denison holds a special place in my heart. I hope my time on campus impacted those I came into contact with, as much as they impacted me. The Briefing: Within the last 2 weeks. Literally, two weeks, a series of events occurred that made me see the potential I could have. It started with a ski lesson, we had philosophy lessons up the chairlift, and the technical skiing lessons going down the hill. It was eye opening. I realized I need to work on my patience, but It also made me realize that I don't have to do something I do not enjoy. Moreover, it made me recognize I need to stop running from what satisfies me the most, people, education, learning, and teaching. I shut myself off in 2017 to the idea of "traditional schooling". I thought, "It's not for me". " I'm not good at it".  It stuck.  That is, until January 6th 2021, when I had this ski lesson. The ski lesson in combination with my parents friend, a teacher from Brother Rice High School,  got me thinking. I was thinking and analyzing myself. My change in perspective was shocking. I needed to accept my talents and embrace them, instead of shutting them out and rejecting them. It is so funny how we sabotage ourselves.  This is the start of my story. About how I found my drive and fulfillment. Below are three personal stories I would like to share. 1.  Monkey Bars. 

There is a story my mother always would tell me growing up about my perseverance and determination. When I was very young, 4 years old, there was a set of monkey bars on the school playground. After school one day I told my mom I wanted to go across the monkey bars. The only problem...I did not know how to do them. But, I had watched other kids that day at recess. So I was determined to figure it out. We were there for 2-3 hours. I was bound and determined to do those monkey bars. I knew that was what I wanted. I had numerous failed attempts, failure after failure, my mother began to beg me to leave with her because my hands were all beaten up, blistered, and bloodied, I still kept going. I made it all the way across those monkey bars that day, and every day after. There is another story, too, a similar story about me riding a two wheeler. Same determination, different goal. Both accomplished. 

2. My Miracle.

A senior in college, to the modern western world, is still considered "young". If you're in school, attending high school or even attending university, to have a child anywhere, at any time in that mix, It is looked down upon, plain and simple.  I chose to not tell any of my peers, while I was at Denison, my fall semester, that senior year, in 2017. I kept this knowing to myself. I told my parents, and told the father/ fathers parents. Guess what was encouraged? An abortion. Whether verbally spoken (which it was) or unspoken, I knew this is what was wanted from me, wanted for me. I mean, it was, after all, the easiest thing to do. I could still finish my degree and the family could always come later in my life. So, I did just that. I went in for that appointment, at 5 weeks. 

Statistically speaking it is 99% effective. Did you know, 1:4 women will have had an abortion in their lifetime. It's neither here nor there, just an incredible statistic. I actually came back to Denison to finish out my degree after. Putting the past behind me. I enjoyed a fantastic fall break that year in Philadelphia with friends, because through Denison my Junior year, I did a "study abroad," in Philadelphia (the best experience ever. Cannot speak enough about that program! So grateful Denison is a part of the Study in Philly!) 

Anyway, after coming back from break I wasn't myself that week at school. I came home, went to a doctor's appointment. Pregnant. I was 11 weeks pregnant. 1-2 weeks away from being in my second trimester. I knew. In that instant, I was keeping him. No one else understood, at the time, my decision. I was blamed on one side, entirely, for this outcome, the father still lives in denial. This is important information in my story, as it describes where I have been, who I am and who I've become. The father isn't, and has never been involved. This is fine. It's been uncomplicated. I'm actually very lucky. Besides, I know that my son and I deserve someone 100% interested in me AND my son, not an either or situation. So once making my decision, to continue with the pregnancy, I took one day. One day to be broken hearted, to feel like it was me against the world. Later, to my surprise, I found I had a support network bigger than I could ever have imagined.

I am blessed. I am loved. "We" are so loved. But it took me that one day to realize, the easiest thing is not always the right thing. I knew honestly from the day I first found out, I wanted this baby. And my god, has it not only blessed me, but this child of mine blesses and brings joy to anyone and everyone he meets. As a biased mother would say, he truly is something special. My choosing to bring this new life into the world, is an amazing and miraculous testimony to my dedication and character. Being a mother (parent) is one of the toughest jobs in the world. 

3. My Bakery.

First, back story: I tried to take some classes at College for Creative studies in 2018. Knowing I was more than "just a mom". I've done a lot of "soul" searching and self love in my time away. I didn't reach back to Denison at this time because I was convinced traditionally schooling just must not be for me. The root of it, I later would find, was that I was somehow undeserving of it. (super messed up mental ideal). Disclaimer: I, like many, struggled with self worth. Therapy is necessary and beautiful.  Anyway, continuing---I had a hobby of sketching.  Homes and houses always intrigued me, so I picked up some classes at CCS, interior design classes. This is where I realized a hobby does not make for a career. More importantly, I remembered the promise I had made to myself, that I didn't want anyone else raising my baby boy.  I was spending 60hrs + a week on projects and classroom time, leaving him home with my parents and babysitters, a little bit at first, then, more and more. So, I pulled the plug. 

When I give of myself I want to give 100%. If I was giving my school work 100% there was none left for my son. I had to pick between the two, and clearly, without a doubt, my baby boy was the sure pick. Schooling this time round failed because It was in person, he was not in school yet, and it was not practical or logistical. I stopped in OCT of 2019. Between October and December of 2019 I went stir crazy. I was 24/7 with my son, living at my parents home still, and my mental health was on the decline. I felt trapped. I needed a way out. And thus "A Degree Above Bakery" was born. I have made over 5,000 dollars in profits from this business. I have a standing order, weekly, with Westborn Market. However, this flow, and work is at my grace.  I can shut it down, permanently, or temporarily. I can drive it forward more, or scale it back, starting tomorrow.  I was determined to find a way out and give myself some "me" time, as well as doing something I enjoyed that gave me flexible hours to work with my son present. I originally started in my own home. Operating under the cottage food law. That is, until I started to rent space in Plymouth MI from Westborn Market in April 2020.  I bake Sundays currently. 

I created and established then registered my name. I created and bought a web domain.  I have my own labels and packaging I created. Every aspect of my business I have built and created. The brand, the marketing, getting into a grocery store. My point here, being, when I think of something, I do everything in my power to try to reach my goal, whatever the road block. When I get an idea, I see it through. To the best of my ability. __________ My overarching theme is determination. You will have nothing without it. I will be respectful and understanding of any final decisions, acceptance, reinstatement, or lack thereof. If there is still a slimmer of possibility to qualify for spring semester at Denison or be considered again... It would be an honor and mean more to me than any words could begin to describe. I had to take one last shot with you all,  before seeking another institution.  Rules and regulations will be forever. I understand this, but If there is anything I can do to help enhance my application/reinstatement/case/enrollment/scenario please don't hesitate to ask. I would be honored to commit to in person class on the hill in the fall, after taking summer classes, and taking the spring classes online at Denison, I also will be able to pay, in full, for the spring tuition as well as on campus next fall/winter. I also paid in full while being on campus every year from 2013-2016. Please also hear me when I say, yes, obviously I would do whatever and help to see a successful spring enrollment, but I would be happy to transfer credits from this spring (elsewhere), and summer, to complete classes on campus in the fall.  I will stay open minded to all possibilities, as I know Denison does! 

With much respect and appreciation, and excitement,

Sarah McNaughton

[ranwing]

Kadam Fic: Learning to Fly (19/20)

Title: Learning to Fly Series: A New Direction (was Season Four Remix) Pairing(s), Characters(s): Kadam, Kurt Hummel, Adam Crawford, Burt Hummel, Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez, Carmen Tibideaux, Cassandra July, Artie Abrams, Tina Cohen-Chang, Elliot “Starchild” Gilbert, Dani, Adam’s Apples, Original Characters Rating: PG13 (rating may change) Genre(s): canon divergence. Parts: 19/?

Summary: As another school year starts at NYADA, Kurt seemed to have it all. The respect of his teachers, a group of wonderful friends and best of all, getting to live with the man that he’d come to love. So of course the universe would throw a few curve balls in his direction.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen

One AO3

Adam threw his head back, biting his lip as Kurt thrust deeply within him, setting sparks all throughout his nervous system. The younger man rolled his hips smoothly as with each push he slid deeper into his lover, causing a delightful stretch that made Adam groan with each prod. Their hands were grasped together as Kurt made love to him in a gentle, unhurried manner that threatened to drive Adam completely mad.

He hadn’t bothered trying to keep count of the number of times they’d made love in the past two days, only making a brief quip about making up for lost time. They took turns lavishing attention on one another and rediscovering all the wonderful ways they could bring joy to one another’s bodies. The first few times were fast and a bit rough from their frenzy, unable to be patient as they finally could be together after so long and Adam knew that the both of them would be feeling the effects for a few days. He certainly wasn’t going to complain about any lingering aches and he highly doubted that Kurt would either.

Having Kurt so languidly making love to him, showing infinite patience as he was slowly driven to distraction was the best homecoming Adam could have imagined. His orgasm came as almost a shock as Kurt built him to a near frenzy and hit his prostate at just the right angle to turn his whole system into a veritable fireworks display. His climax triggered Kurt’s and he felt the younger man shudder and pulse within him as he came with a loud, nearly pained moan.

They couldn’t bear to part from one another, merely rolling to their sides so they could press as close together as possible without wearing the same skin. Adam buried his face in the curve of Kurt’s neck, surrounding himself with the scent of his partner being so well loved by him. He felt Kurt running his fingers through his hair, drawing a long sigh of contentment from the older man.

The past two days had been a wonderful release for the two of them as they ensconced themselves in the little hotel room that Adam had rented until they signed their lease. He knew that this perfect bubble of solitude wouldn’t last much longer, as Kurt had his year-end exams to finish and he would see to getting them settled in their new flat. But for now… he wrapped his arms about Kurt and held him close. This was all Adam wanted in the world.

* * *

“Did you sleep at all this weekend?” Rachel teased as Kurt appeared in their voice class looking decidedly less bright-eyed than usual. Not that she would ever blame him given the circumstances.

“Nope,” he answered with an entirely too self-satisficed smile. “I’m just glad that I don’t have my dance critique until Wednesday. I should be walking normally by then.”

Rachel couldn’t hold back the laugh that burst out, giving him a playful swat to his shoulder.

As nice as their weekend had been, cocooned with one another as if the rest of the world didn’t exist, they did have to rejoin the rest of the universe and see to mundane matters. They had an appointment that afternoon after Kurt’s diction class to meet with the real estate agent and get the keys for their new apartment. Then they planned to go shopping for a new bedroom set that would give them plenty of room for sleep and play. Adam was insistent on spending a bit of his tour pay on making their home theirs and a new bed and mattress was in a high position on his list of priorities.

“I’m surprised that you haven’t already moved into the new place,” Rachel teased, giving her friend a meaningful nudge. “Or that Adam is willing to let you out of his sight.”

Kurt shrugged offhandedly, his mood shifting from contented to the prickliness that Rachel immediately picked up on. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Don’t tell me that there’s already trouble in paradise?”

“Not trouble,” Kurt insisted. “Adam and I… we had a little difference of opinion yesterday.”

That got Rachel’s attention. Given Kurt’s habit of downplaying problems he was having, that he was admitting that he and Adam had some kind of disagreement hinted that things had gotten very heated between the two men. “What do you mean?” she pressed carefully, wanting to get her friend to open up a bit. “You and Adam are practically the image of couple’s goals.”

“It’s not like we don’t disagree on occasion,” Kurt reminded her. “It’s okay. We really didn’t have a fight. I just… Adam was pretty insistent that I not move in right away. He wants me to focus on my finals and he said that this would give him time to get things organized while I’m at school.”

Rachel pursed her lips, considering the idea. “You know, he’s probably right,” she pointed out.

Kurt sighed in resignation. “I know he is,” he acknowledged, making it clear that while he might have come around to Adam’s point of view, he wasn’t happy about it. “That doesn’t mean that I’m thrilled about him being alone while I’m stuck at school.”

Adam had been his normally preceptive self and recognized that Kurt needed a bit of stability and peace to get through his finals and dealing with a move would just be a huge distraction that he didn’t need. As upset as Kurt had been, he eventually accepted that Adam had a point, thought admitting it was like pulling teeth.

“It wasn’t as if we’re not going to see each other,” Kurt insisted, forcing himself to smile. “He promised to start taking some of my stuff that I’m not using right now to the apartment, so I’ll have less to pack. I’ll be moving in right after my last exam.”

“Well, everyone is looking forward to helping this weekend,” Rachel informed him. “Even Santana. She missed Adam more than she lets on.”

“I’ll bet she spent the last few months thinking up all kinds of new nicknames for him,” Kurt chuckled, knowing his friend all too well. For all of Santana’s sharpness, she really did care about those that had wormed their way through her defenses, and she appreciated the way Adam went along with her particular brand of humor.

Talk about moving and settling into their new place was put on hold as Madam Tibideaux strolled into the classroom, her violet caftan and turban perfectly matching the beautiful sunny weather they’d all been enjoying as of late. She turned a warm smile to her students; the select group that had survived their trials at NYADA and had begun to truly thrive under her tutelage.

“Good morning all,” she greeted pleasantly. The class fell to attention, knowing that their teacher, however congenial she appeared, would not be taking it at all easy on them. But regardless of how difficult the challenge she presented was or how much complaining they might do, it wasn’t what they wanted. This group, that she had hand-picked herself and shown that they had what it takes to endure wanted and needed to be pushed as hard as she could manage.

“I hope that you all had a pleasant weekend, although some of you appear to have had a better weekend than others,” she teased, noting Kurt’s less than customary neatness. His cheeks flushed charmingly at being called out and was grateful that she didn’t comment on the love bites scattered up the length of his throat. He supposed that it was a good thing that their relationship had evolved to the point where their dignified teacher could tease them.

Letting Kurt off the hook for the moment, she shifted her focus to their lesson. “We’re now in the final days of classwork and before we get started, I wanted to give you your spring critique assignments,” she warned, reminding them of their all-important year end exam the following week. “All of you have been progressing as well as I could have ever hoped, between your classwork and your work on our spring musical this year. I could not be more pleased with your growth as performers.

“But I would be remiss as your teacher if I didn’t consider that we still have two more years of study together,” she warned. “Some of you, undoubtably will be looking for work shortly and some of you likely already have lined up performing jobs for the summer.”

Rachel couldn’t help from smiling at Kurt, relishing that both of them having secured their summer employment.

Madam Tibideaux leaned against her desk, looking out at their attentive faces. “When considering the nature of your critiques, my goal is to always help in your continued musical education. Not only to see what you’re already learned, but how much more you can grow. What I want from each of you are two song selections,” she advised with a calm smile. “I want you to pick one song, the genre of your choice, that you feel best shows off your current qualities as a singer and artist. Your challenge is to show me how you see yourself as a performer and that you can choose material that displays those qualities best. This is going to be critical when you start auditioning professionally because it will show me that you have a clear understanding of your abilities and how best to show them. The second song is to show me what you hope to become.

“All of you are at the halfway mark of your training here at NYADA,” she reminded. “That means that while you’ve had a considerable amount of intensive training up until now, you still should have room for growth and development. I expect that the second song will be something that is a challenge for you; that you will struggle with because it’s something that you haven’t attempted or thought yourself capable of before. This is the time when you should be considering the artist that you might wish to be when you leave this room for the final time.”

Kurt listened carefully to her requirements and realized that the assignment was actually harder than it initially appeared. She would want to see how ambitious they were in their aspirations, or if they were content to rest on their laurels. For those like himself, Rachel and their friends who have been standouts in so many ways, her expectations would be sky high.

He wasn’t the only one who’d realized that, he noted at seeing the concerned look on Rachel’s face. For someone who knew her voice as well as she did and having as many years of training under her belt, she had a harder task than he did. She’d spent so long thinking that her voice had reached its pinnacle of what it was capable of and having to consider further growth in both technique and artistic reach would be a real challenge for her.

Kurt bit back a sigh, knowing that however much a challenge they found the past year or two, the next two years would be even more difficult. There would always be the press to improve upon what had been perfection only the day before and their teacher would never be satisfied with their accomplishments. Madam Tibideaux would always be demanding more of them.

When they were dismissed and their august teacher left the room so they could stew in the challenge she had issued to them, Rachel let out a loud sigh of exasperation. “I don’t even know where to begin,” she said with resignation. “I mean, I know my voice and what I can do, but I can’t imagine what she expects of me.”

“She wants us to keep challenging ourselves,” he answered with a tired grimace.

“It’s never going to be good enough. Is it?” Rachel asked, even knowing the answer.

Kurt shook his head. “Because she knows that we’re always capable of more. However tough we think this is, it’s going to be even worse going forward,” he warned. “We’ve got two years more of school and she’s going to want us to unlearn all of the limits that we put on ourselves.”

Rachel nodded, her dark eyes shadowed with worry because she knew this was indeed a weakness of hers. “Will you help me?” she asked, her gaze pleading. “I always get lost in my own head and start second guessing myself about these things. You know me better than anyone else.”

Rachel’s confidence in him and trusting his judgement was always humbling. Kurt had always admired how sure she was of her own abilities, but he admired even more her new capability of being able to see her lack of perspective where her talents were concerned. Just as he had leaned on her when he was uncertain, she had learned to lean on him.

That afternoon, he found himself in his room digging through the numerous books of musical material that he’d collected over the years. Finding a song that showed his full development to date would not be so difficult. He wanted something both technically and emotionally complex, so that he could show just how much he’d grown as a singer over the past year and a half. It was the second song that had him worried.

What would Madam Tibideaux want to see from him, he pondered as he thumbed through pages of songs from a variety of genres, the pile of rejects far taller than anything that seemed like a reasonable prospect. He knew that he could sing nearly any style by this point. He’d already taken on modern rock-based songs, popular music and songs from any number of musical productions. He’d managed to take on a major role in their school production and handle it as well as any of the upper classmen.

Knowing his teacher as well as he thought he did, he knew that she would be critical of any box that he allowed himself to slip into. He would have to push himself in a way that he’d never tried before. Even if he failed to sing as well as he’d like to, he got the impression that Madam Tibideaux would want to see the direction that he wanted to progress in and show that he wanted to be more than he currently was. Finding something that he had a chance of doing some kind of justice to while still showing room for growth… that was going to be hard.

He had a week to figure this out. Looking up from the pile of songbooks, he realized what he needed to do.

* * *

“Darling, I can handle this,” Adam assured his partner as they walked up the block to their new home. “You’ve got exams to prepare for, and…”

“And we’re moving our stuff in today,” Kurt reminded him with a brilliant smile as he pulled one of his suitcases behind him. “I already confirmed with the furniture store and our bedroom set will arrive this afternoon. The storage company should be here later with the rest of our stuff, and Rachel and the others are on their way.”

Adam had technically already moved in, even if that had meant a borrowed sleeping bag on the floor for the past few days. Kurt wanted him in a proper bed before the day was over and to start getting things situated for them.

They had a good number of volunteers to help them, enough that Kurt was able to assure his fellow Apples that they should focus on their finals and not worry about rushing over to help. Too many people would have ended up being a hinderance with the relatively narrow staircase, and they’d just end up driving over one another all day. There would be plenty of time for them to visit and help out with things. Kurt wasn’t going to tell Adam, but he had a suspicion that their friends were planning something pretty significant for them once finals were done.

The older man slung and arm about Kurt’s shoulders and pulled him in for a quick peck. “Well, I’ll be able to get things sorted out while you’re at school this week,” he assured Kurt. “Just tell me where you want stuff. We can always move things around as we want later.”

Kurt beamed at his lover. “It’ll all be fine,” he insisted. “I’m ready for my exams. Even my voice class. And do you know what I’m really looking forward to?”

“A private shower?” Adam guessed, only to earn a teasing smile from Kurt.

“Nope, although that will be nice. What I’m really looking forward to is christening our new bed tonight.” The gleam in Kurt’s eyes made it abundantly clear what he meant.

Even after the thorough reconnection they’d enjoyed since his return, Adam couldn’t help the slow burn of arousal that Kurt’s teasing kindled and he couldn’t resist pulling Kurt closer to him despite the baggage that they were literally carrying.

“And not just the bed,” Kurt promised. “The day after my last test, I’m going to go to my dorm room and pack the last of my things. Then I’m going to come here for good. And we’re going to christen every room and every single piece of furniture we own.”

“Nice, Hummel,” Santana snapped with a wicked grin as she came up behind Kurt, having heard every salacious word. Trailing in her wake was Dani and Elliot, both of whom were clearly attempting to keep from laughing and failing.

“Just make sure that you disinfect everything before you invite anyone over for dinner,” she warned with a flash of humor in her dark eyes. “The last thing I need to be thinking about is my plate being right where your bare ass was planted right a half hour earlier.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Like you’re one to talk,” he complained playfully. “I seem to remember how quickly we were going through cling wrap after you moved in. We didn’t have that many leftovers.”

Dani muffled her giggles while her girlfriend’s smile contained entirely too much smug satisfaction. “Hey, none of my ladies can ever be called leftovers,” Santana retorted before turning to Adam.

“Nice of you to finally come out of hiding, Teaboy,” she pronounced with a sharp glint of humor in her eye. “I’m surprised that you were letting Hummel here off his back long enough to go to class.”

Adam couldn’t help from laughing, having missed her particular brand of humor. “Back, side… whatever position we found ourselves in,” he answered mischievously, earning a swat from his lover and a nod of admiration from the young woman teasing them. He’s learned early on that the best way to handle Santana’s particular brand of humor was to meet it head on, without shame or embarrassment.

Besides, what man in his right mind would be ashamed to have someone like Kurt in his bed? Adam couldn’t be prouder that of all the men Kurt had met, it was he that Kurt chose to be with. Even after months spent apart.

Elliot couldn’t help from laughing and stepped up to give Adam a pat on the shoulder before pulling him into a hug. “Good to have you back, man,” he said sincerely. “We all missed you.”

“I missed you all too,” Adam insisted. “Come on… let me show you the new place.”

As they walked to the apartment, Elliot couldn’t resist looking around. “I really love this area,” he claimed. “You’ve got everything here. It’s got a great vibe.”

“Well, this is it,” Kurt proclaimed as they reached the building.

Elliot quickly moved to take one of the bags that Adam was pulling in hand. “Let me help,” he insisted with a brilliant smile.

Within a few moments, they were stepping into the mostly bare apartment, the empty rooms waiting for the two new tenants to put their stamp on them. Kurt lay the suitcase he’d been pulling on the floor and took the girls in hand. “Let me show you around,” he insisted, taking them on a quick tour before the rest of their friends arrived.

Elliot looked to Adam. “It must feel good to be back,” he surmised, giving the other man a knowing smile. “You know, getting reacquainted with people.”

Adam chuckled, knowing exactly what Elliot meant. “We’ve definitely been doing that,” he said amusedly. “Lots of reacquainting.”

He looked about the apartment that was to be his and Kurt’s home before turning a thankful smile to Elliot. “I did want to thank you for being there for Kurt,” he said sincerely. “I know how hard this was for him, and he had so many things thrown at him.”

“Hey, he’s my friend so it wasn’t exactly a sacrifice,” Elliot insisted. “You are too. Now that you’re back, we can hang out more. And don’t think I’m going to let you off the hook when my cabaret group does its next performance. I can’t wait to see you and Kurt duet together, especially if you’re able to pull off something like you did on Halloween.”

Adam felt his cheeks flush at the memory. “That was all Kurt,” he asserted proudly. “He’s just full of surprises.”

“Nah… I think that you’ve got a couple of surprises up your sleeve too,” Elliot claimed with a knowing grin.

“Kurt’s been telling me that you’ve got a job lined up now,” Adam prodded.

Elliot nodded happily. “And I get to stay in New York, which is just icing on the cake. I was pretty shocked when the Elevator Repair Service made an offer for me to join the company for a year, but it was exactly what I was looking for. And they’ve got some interesting projects lined up for the fall season. It’ll give me a chance to get my feet wet in the business and make some decisions about where to take it from there.”

“Well, I know that Kurt’s going to be pleased to have your around,” Adam reminded. He heard the sound of a large vehicle outside and peered out the window, seeing a truck pulling up to the curb.

“Kurt, I think that’s our furniture arriving,” he called out. “I’m going downstairs to meet them.”

“Coming!” Kurt answered, hurrying over with the girls following in in his wake.

“Can’t you wait for the bed to arrive?” Santana teased, earning a poke in her ribs from her girlfriend.

Adam laughed and gave Kurt a quick kiss. “You wait up here and keep the door open.”

“I’ll give you a hand,” Elliot offered, following Adam down the stairs.

Not for the first time, Adam was glad that they purchased their bedroom set from a proper furniture store and arranged for delivery and assembly. It was worth saving their backs for the other stuff arriving and Adam was happy to let the three burly men from the delivery service do the heavy lifting. He watched as they unloaded the truck and began to carry the pieces up the stairs to where Kurt was waiting to direct them.

An hour later, the two dressers, nightstands and bedframe were assembled and in place and the new mattress laid on the bed. Adam had to admit that it was a lovely set, done in a modern style with pale honey colored wood and clean lines that was suitably masculine. He couldn’t help from smiling as Kurt sat down on the bed and gave a little bounce to test it out.

“Comfy, love?” Adam asked, watching as Kurt kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the bed. There was something really special about seeing Kurt making sure that their shared bed was suitably comfortable for them.

“Oh, this is so nice,” Kurt sighed happily. “And it’s so big…”

Elliot rolled his eyes. “I’m sure that Adam’s heard that a few times before,” he said teasingly.

Kurt snorted and aimed a half-hearted kick at his friend, who dodged him easily with a laugh.

Santana walked in an announced that the second truck had arrived from the storage company and that Rachel and Tina were waiting for them downstairs. Adam thanked her and said they’d be downstairs in just a moment.

He patted Kurt’s leg to get his attention. “Come on, love,” he urged gently. ”Let’s get things moving. We’ve got a lot of stuff to bring up and a good part of it is your wardrobe.”

Kurt snorted indignantly, not missing the light teasing in his lover’s voice. He held out his hand so that Adam could help pull him to a seated position and slipped into his running shoes again. Holding hands, they walked down the stairs to meet the others where they found the truck being unloaded of all their boxes and furniture. Rachel and Tina were there, and Kurt wasn’t surprised to see Neil holding Rachel’s hand.

Good, he though. They could use another strong man to cart the heavy things up the stairs.

Tina held out a white cardboard cake box to Kurt. “These are from Artie,” she advised. “He feels terrible that he’s not here to help. He’s been stuck doing a project for his finals, and I’ve barely seen him. He’s been locked away in the editing room at school the past few days.”

Kurt nodded understandingly, knowing that Artie’s absence was only partly due to his final project and more the fact that he probably wouldn’t be any real help with this. With the stairs, he wouldn’t be able to assist with moving anything in and would need assistance himself in getting up to the apartment. A school project was the most graceful way he could beg out of trying to help when he would be in the way more than anything else. Kurt would have to remember that when they invited the group over for their official housewarming, he and Adam would have to help carry Artie and his chair up the stairs and do it in a way that didn’t embarrass their younger friend.

“Oh, that’s lovely,” Adam said with a smile. “Why don’t you run upstairs and place that in the kitchen. We can enjoy them once we get things settled.”

“I’ll show her where it is,” Rachel advised. “We’ll be right back.”

Adam shook Neil’s hand. “Good to see you,” he greeted cheerfully. “We can definitely use another set of hands.”

Neal grinned back at him. “I’m glad to help,” he assured the other man. “It’s a break from the books, and I was promised by Elliot that there would be pizza and beer.”

“That there will be,” Adam assured him. “I figure that we’ll tackle the furniture and let the girls start on the boxes.”

“Sounds good to me.” Neal rolled up his sleeve. “What do you want to start with?”

Kurt placed his hands on his hips as he surveyed the collection of boxes and furniture pieces. “How the hell do we have so much stuff?” he asked. “I don’t remember all this.”

“I think that the boxes multiplied while they were in storage,” Adam mused with a teasing smile. He draped an arm about the younger man’s shoulders and pulled him along. “Come on, love… the sooner we get started, the sooner we finish.”

Between the four men, they managed the pieces of furniture that Kurt and Adam had saved from their old apartment. They had planned on eventually purchasing a few new things since their apartment was considerably larger than Adam’s studio, but at least they had enough to get them started. It took all four of them to wrestle the sofa up the stairs, carefully navigating to keep from battering the walls of the hallway. Then came the chair and coffee table and their bookcases.

The girls took care of the lighter items and the boxes containing their clothing and personal possessions, using the hand truck Adam had borrowed from the building superintendent to pull them up the stairs. Rachel and Tina carried up the rug for the living room and rolled it out in front of the couch while Santana and Dani took care of the framed art. The television and stand were set up in the living area and Adam assured Kurt that the internet connection would be set up the following day. The final burden of boxes of books, their cookware and dishes were shared between the group. Adam would have quite a task unpacking, but it would give him something to do while Kurt was busy at school with his exams.

It was late afternoon by the time they were done, and everyone was physically exhausted. But at least the apartment was now at least partly furnished and livable. Once Kurt and Adam completed their unpacking and arranging things more to their liking, they’d get a better sense of what additional items they’d need to purchase.

Kurt looked about the main area, satisfied that Adam would be comfortable until they got everything settled. “I’m going to put in the pizza order,” he announced as he set out bowls of chips and dips for them to snack on in the meantime. “Any requests?”

“Anything but anchovies,” Elliot answered with a dramatic shudder.

“I still don’t get what you have against anchovies,” Neil teased from across the room, giving his friend a playful grin.

“Little hairy, salty fish? Totally gross,” Elliot insisted, getting an emphatic nod of support from Dani.

Rachel looked down at Neil from her position on his lap and gave him a judgmental look. “If you really like anchovies, I’m going to have to reconsider our relationship,” she warned seriously.

Neil laughed and patted her on her thigh. “I’m just teasing Elliot,” he assured her with a warm grin. “He really, really is grossed out by them and it’s so easy to yank his chain.”

“And everyone, please help yourself to drinks,” Adam invited. “The fridge is full. We’ve got beer, cider, soft drinks…”

These were the moments that Kurt had grown to treasure since arriving in New York. Sitting with his friends, eating junk food and teasing one another in a way that did not draw blood while they shared and celebrated milestones in their lives. Holidays, new relationships, employment opportunities or something major like this were made all the sweeter by having people that he loved to share them with.

Sitting on the floor between Adam’s legs while his lover sat on the couch allowed them to remain in close physical contact, Adam’s hands free to smooth through Kurt’s hair or rest on his shoulder while they talked. Elliot shared the couch with Adam while Neil had appropriated their one other chair with Rachel seated on his lap. The other girls joined Kurt on the floor, sprawled about the rug like a litter of unruly kittens.

“So, do you think you’ll ever take a touring job again?” Elliot asked Adam.

Adam shrugged. “If the job was a particular good one, I wouldn’t refuse it out of hand,” he admitted. “I’m hardly at the stage where I can turn down work if it’s offered, but it won’t be my first preference.”

“Well, fortunately you won’t have to worry about that so soon,” Kurt reminded him with a loving smile.

Adam nodded, ducking his head to kiss the top of Kurt’s head. “You’re right, sweetheart. We’ve got the run in London, but that will almost be a holiday for us. And then the opening in spring here in New York. I’m very fortunate.”

“What was it like?” Neil asked. “It must have been fun to travel to so many places?”

Adam appeared thoughtful, considering the question. “It was definitely interesting,” he admitted. “I mean, I’d only really been around New York since I came to the States, so I do appreciate having been able to visit so many places over the past few months. But it wasn’t exactly a holiday and staying in hotels all the time and traveling so much took a lot out of me.

“But I made some good friends along the way,” he admitted with a smile. Through necessity and the good fortune of just having the right blend of personalities, the cast had become quite close over the past few months. “And having the chance to really put what I’d learned to practical application will help my career in the future. So, it definitely can be counted as a positive experience.”

Elliot smiled happily at the other man. “I’m really glad for you,” he claimed. “We all worried about you, so I’m happy that it was mostly a good experience.”

Adam was thankful for Elliot’s sincerity. “I’m glad to be back where I belong,” he insisted gently. He felt Kurt reach up to touch the hand that was resting on his shoulder and Adam couldn’t resist entwining their fingers. “I know it was just as hard for Kurt and I’m glad that all of you were there for him.”

Kurt just smiled, letting the warm comfort of having so many of his closest friends wash over him. He was so fortunate, he realized. To have managed to meld the friends that had followed him and Rachel from Ohio with the new group that they had found in New York. Somewhere along the line, he had come to view all of them as members of his very strange extended family.

He thought about his whole family, bound by blood and choice, scattered across the country. There was his father and stepmother splitting their time between Lima and Washington, with Finn and the other two young men that he considered brothers were building lives in Texas. Mercedes was on her way to making a name for herself in California. Mike was building his career in Chicago and Quinn in Cambridge. Their paths would continue to cross through their lives, and they would gather to celebrate important milestones. There would be premieres, weddings, births and, hopefully not for many years, deaths. The bonds between them would remain strong, even if many miles separated them. They would fade only if allowed to.

He carried those thoughts in his mind as he walked into the Round Room for his spring vocal critique. As she had the previous year, Madam Tibideax wanted to give them the opportunity to show off their vocals in the best venue that NYADA had to offer. Kurt always loved this room because it had been the place where so many wonderful things in his life had originated. How could he have ever known that being called upon to perform that night would have changed his life so.

Kurt was glad that he arrived early, allowing him a few moments to see how the stage was set and to mentally run through how he wanted his performance to go. The band had already begun to set up and tune their instruments, so Kurt stayed out of their way as much as possible. He’d already given his written instructions for his music and trusted that the student musicians and conductor would be able to provide the musical support that he needed for this test.

Rachel had arrived shortly after him, her dark blue dress decorated with ruffles that floated lightly over her body and gave her a soft, waiflike air that suited the material she’d chosen. She had her hair styled in soft waves that framed her face beautifully and Kurt bent to give her a gentle kiss to her cheek.

“You look wonderful,” he complimented, so glad that she had moved beyond the garish makeup and overdone hair that suited her so poorly. He very much preferred this sweeter, more honest and gentle version of his friend.

“You too,” she praised, eyeing his outfit with a complimentary nod. “Did Isabelle help with this look?”

Kurt couldn’t help from grinning. “No. You know, I am capable of dressing myself,” he reminded her, arching his perfectly groomed eyebrow wryly. He was rather proud of how he managed to pair a blue sharkskin suit with a shirt and tie in a deep golden color. Maybe Isabelle and Chase helped him to transition his fashion-forward tastes to more mature, put together styles but he still knew what worked best for him. The slim-cut suit displayed his body perfectly and knowing that he looked good helped his confidence in the performance challenge that awaited him.

The rest of the class streamed into the room, and while Kurt and Rachel took a few moments to greet their friends, everyone needed a bit of space to mentally prepared for this test. Kurt took a seat towards the back and went over the notes he’d made about his performance choices, taking care to review exactly where he needed to make the transitions in his register and just when he wanted to launch into his glory notes. The first song he picked was well within his capabilities and he knew that it would display all of his best qualities as a singer.

It was the second that would be a real challenge. For all he practiced over the past week, he knew that he would not be able to sing it nearly as well as he would like to. But this song spoke to him as much as his first song did and he needed to show that he was ready to start ranging well outside his box. He was going to be pushing far out of his comfort zone and this had the potential to be a complete disaster if his voice failed him. Madam Tibideaux would hold nothing back in her criticisms.

The doors opened and Madam Tibideax glided in, looking as calm and at ease as her students were apprehensive. She paused to speak briefly with the conductor before turning her attention to her class.

“Good afternoon,” she greeted with a warm smile. “I hope that all of you are excited about showing me what you have chosen to perform, because I certainly am about seeing it. All of you have shown over the past two years your desire to grow as artists and now is the time to show where all your hard work has taken you.”

She looked about the room, catching the gaze of each of her students with her steady, calm eyes. “All of you are still maturing as artists. This test is to show me how you see yourselves as performers now, and what you hope to achieve in the coming two years. I’m looking forward to seeing some interesting things today.

“I will meet with each of you at the end of the week to review your work and discuss your training going forward,” she reminded. “We have a lot to get through today, so let’s not waste time. Ms. Berry? If you’re ready.”

It appeared that their teacher was going in alphabetical order, so it wasn’t a complete surprise for Rachel to be called up first. She smiled confidently and stepped to the stage, turning to face her classmates and teacher.

“Before you begin, Ms. Berry, I’d like to know what informed your decisions about the material you’ve chosen,” Madam Tibideax requested, taking out her notepad.

Rachel considered the question carefully before answering. “Well, last year was a bit of a rocky one for me and I made a lot of mistakes,” she admitted. “I had a difficult time accepting just how narrow a view I had on what constituted a good performance. This year I’ve been really trying to work more on an emotional connection to the material I pick and rethink more about the kind of roles that I hope to play in the future. I picked one song today from a musical that I’d always dreamed of performing in and one that I’d never considered before.”

Her answer seemed to please their teacher, who made a brief nod of approval for her to begin.

When Kurt heard the first strains of music, he couldn’t help from smiling. Rachel’s adoration for Wicked and the role of Elphaba was hardly a secret and Kurt knew that she dreamed about assuming that role one day. She could have chosen any number of songs that would have displayed her powerhouse vocal technique, but she picked the gentlest, most introspective song for her favorite character.

“Hands touch, eyes meet,” she sang gently, her voice lifted on the strains of flute and violin. “Sudden silence, sudden heat. Hearts leap in a giddy whirl. He could be that boy… but I’m not that girl.”

She looked up, a softly wistful expression on her face. “Don’t dream too far,” she warned. “Don’t lose sight of who you are. Don’t remember that rush of joy. He could be that boy, but I’m not that girl.”

Kurt thought about the past few years, and about the challenges and setbacks that Rachel had faced. She hadn’t always weathered them so well, lashing out and seeking to assign blame in order to shield herself from disappointment. She had faced the choice of giving up on her dreams or allowing a more realistic version of them to take hold. One that wouldn’t be so simple to fulfill but was still achievable. One that allowed for the possibility for failures, but also growth. Maybe one that would be more satisfying when it was achieved.

Rachel’s arms folded about herself comfortingly, as if in recognition that no matter how much support she could expect from those around her, in the end it would be her own strength and determination that would see her through.

“Every so often, we long to steal to the land of what might have been,” she granted regretfully, understanding that to wish for things that just could not be was pointless. “But that doesn’t soften the ache we feel when reality sets back in.”

Kurt knew that Rachel had finally reached that place where she could accept the disappointments and not let them crush her. That she had finally gained the wisdom to recognize the difference between a dream and a fantasy. She was finally becoming the person that he’d always hoped she would be.

The music began to pick up power as cello and percussion came in to lift Rachel’s voice. She sang with a technical finesse that Kurt hadn’t seen before and was able to meld with the song rather than overpowering it. Rachel had figured out before how to use material to communicate with her audience, but this was the first time that he could remember her able to take a song associated with such an iconic singer and making it totally her own.

If Madam Tibideaux was looking for growth from Rachel, she would be more than satisfied.

“Blithe smile, lithe limb,” Rachel sang with clear regret in her voice, able to express the character’s recognition that she would not be getting what she desperately wanted. “She who’s winsome, she wins him.

“Gold hair with a gentle curl. That the girl he chose. And heaven knows, I’m not that girl.”

The band changed the tone again, bringing more strength into the notes and Rachel visibly steeled herself, as if accepting this bitter disappointment but refusing to be beaten by it. She would accept her flaws and her failings and use them to grow.

“Don’t wish, don’t start,” she warned, finally allowing the full strength of her vocal tone come out as her character’s resolve came to the forefront. “Wishing only wounds the heart. I wasn’t born for the rose and pearl. There’s a girl I know… he loves her so… I’m not that girl…”

As always, Madam Tibideaux expressed nothing while Rachel sang. Just watching every element like a sphinx, making her copious notes that would be at least as much criticism and compliments. But given what he knew that their teacher was demanding of Rachel, Kurt believed that Rachel would be very happy when she got her critique. This was the first time that he felt her performance on such a visceral level.

Rachel accepted the applause from her peers with a shy smile and a nod, apparently pleased that the performance had gone as well as it did. The band began to play her second song selection and immediately, Kurt could see the radical difference between the two numbers. The first had started off gently and introspective. This one was immediately showing how radically different a song it was with its discordant piano and clashing symbols.

“It’s my mother’s house, in my mother’s name,” Rachel all but snarled, her dark eyes flashing anger that her character wasn’t allowed to express towards the person it was aimed at. “And you can’t beat mother at mother’s game.

“Cuz she liked the people who I don’t like. And if I don’t like it it’s take a hike!”

Rachel began to pace, looking more like a caged animal than the young theater student that she was in reality. “Which is mother’s way or reminding me, when you live with mother you can’t be free,” Rachel complained, her expression clearly displaying her anger at the injustice portrayed in the song.

“And I think that mother is very mean. And the latest thing with this wash machine. The one that Jerry bought!” Rachel confided to her audience. “Don’t be surprised if this guy moves in and I’m pulverized!

“Cuz I’ll be damned if I’m gonna waste my time. Washing clothes in a goddam machine!”

The music shifted, with a more gentle piano and woodwinds coming in and Rachel’s performance tone changed to reflect the more childlike musings of a woman trapped in a miserable life, using scraps that she’d collected for a mental escape.

“Around the world is what I call my wall of special things,” Rachel explained, the anger in her voice exchanged for pained longing for a life that she could only imagine. “Around the world with rose bouquets. I dried and tied on strings, a silver mask from a masquerade. Around and around I twirled…”

Rachel turned about, holding out her arms as she sang, “You take them up so you can twirl around the world.”

The music turned harsh again and Rachel halted with a bereft expression. “It my mother’s house,” she bemoaned, allowing a sense of desperation to come into her voice. “With my mother’s friend. And with Jerry coming it never ends. It’s the same old story as George Gould Strong. Not in twenty years did we get along.

“Though I did feel bad for the way he died,” she granted. “In a two-bit flea bag; a suicide. It was mother’s money, the Bouvier’s. And if mother spent it in crazy ways. No one took care of her. Only me! Not sexually.”

Rachel’s expression took on a defiant cast, ready to throw back the judgement that others had placed on her back in their faces. Kurt smiled proudly, happy to see her throwing herself into a role that she had never shown any interest in and was so different from the characters that she had wanted to play in the past.

“And if you infer that they were using her, I will shove you under the goddamn bed!” she warned dangerously, trying to balance the shifting moods of anger towards her mother and protectiveness. The music shifted tone again to the gentler notes, betraying her character’s ache for something more.

“Around the world, with stones and shells. The nicest ones I lost,” Rachel lamented tiredly. “Around the world, without a boat, or just a quote from Frost. Two roads diverged in a yellow wood. A lovely crossing on…”

Kurt could see what Rachel was trying to accomplish with this song. She had painted herself into such a tight box with the types of roles that she wanted to play and and how to play those parts that she was holding herself back. It was only now that she was starting to open up to roles outside of her diva, showstopper style. Roles that weren’t glamorous, but more complex and with more emotional nuance than she was currently capable of delivering.

She was finally showing that she wanted to be more than what she currently was. That she wanted a career beyond the fantasy of a Tony award by the time she was twenty-five. Rachel wanted to learn and evolve and was willing to put in the work and make the mistakes that would allow her to do so.

There were plenty of things that Madam Tibideaux would find to be critical of. Rachel wasn’t able to handle the shifts in mood and tone so smoothly and there were even points where the melody was getting away from her. But she had never attempted a song as technically or emotionally complex as this one and Kurt had little doubt that she would be getting ample credit for making the attempt.

The girl who had started out only dreaming of being a star was now showing that she wanted to be taken seriously as an actress.

“Around the world there isn’t room for every special thing,” Rachel cried out, folding in on herself. “Around the world, you choose a few to make the music sing!

“A silver mask from a masquerade. Around and around I twirled. You take them up, so when you go the world will be the one you know!”

The music began to draw to a close, and Rachel’s voice rose gently. “A birdcage I plan to hang. I’ll get to that someday,” she promised. “A birdcage for a bird who flew away… around the world…”

Kurt and several in the class got to their feet to give Rachel a standing ovation that she very richly deserved. She wasn’t flawless, but the emotional depth of her singing was miles beyond what she had done before. For the first time that Kurt could remember, she wasn’t worried about being perfect and just sang from her soul.

Madam Tibideaux granted her students a moment to praise their peer before calling for the next to take the stage. Rachel took her seat next to Kurt and turned a tired smile to him.

He didn’t say anything, not wanting to distract from their classmate who was starting her exam. He just reached out and took Rachel’s hand, giving it a warm squeeze to let her know that she had done well.

When it was finally Kurt’s turn to stand before his peers, Madam Tibideaux asked of him the same question that she asked of each her students. Why these particular songs?

Kurt smiled thoughtfully, taking time to consider his answer before speaking. “I did a lot of thinking about what songs I wanted to do today because the past year has been a really challenging one for me. This was the year when I really started to understand just what a career in this business is going to entail. I tried to pick songs that would express what I consider important, because my life will be more than just the roles that I play. And I wanted songs that would challenge me both artistically and technically. I’m still learning who I am as an artist and how far my voice can take me.”

Madam Tibideaux nodded for him to begin and Kurt waited for the piano player to begin. He’d selected a simple arrangement, not wanting the music to overshadow his voice. He appreciated the emotional vulnerability of this particular song and wanted to do it justice. Kurt he found it fitting that if a Sondheim number was the performance that opened the doors to NYADA for him and brought his lover into his life.

“Not a day goes by,” Kurt sang out with measured strength, wanting to express the tender but complicated feelings about his life. “Not a single day. But you’re somewhere, a part of my life, and it looks like you’ll stay…

“As the days go by… I keep thinking ‘when does it end?’ But I just go on thinking and sweating. And cursing and crying. And turning and reaching. And waking and dying…”

Kurt knew how very fortunate he was. That just two years ago, he couldn’t see a future for himself. He had his family and he had Blaine, as much as he could claim to have Blaine, but his dreams of the stage seemed futile. Then Blaine walked out of his life and Kurt felt completely lost. It felt like any time he had the slightest hope for something better, the universe conspired to snatch it away from him.

Now he had NYADA. And Adam. And a group of friends that he would happily go to the ends of the earth for, and that he knew would do the same for him. He would fight like hell to keep them in his life.

“And no… Not a day goes by,” he sang, looking about the room with a satisfied expression on his face. For all the times he had doubted himself, he knew in his heart that he deserved to be standing there at that instant. “Not a blessed day. But you’re still somewhere in my life, and you won’t go away…”

The months of Adam being on the road had been difficult ones for the both of them, but they had learned so much about themselves and one another. Kurt saw the strength that he had, and that he deserved to be loved. That he didn’t have to shy away from praise or caring out of fear that it wasn’t truly warranted. Allowing himself to risk being hurt had gained him so much more than he could have ever hoped for.

He looked to his friends, who watched him with happy smiles and he knew that he was giving his teacher what she demanded. A song that expressed who he was as a performer; someone who could distill the raw emotion of a song and make it his own. That was his greatest strength as an artist.

“So there’s hell to pay,” Kurt warned, letting his voice slip free of the measured restraint and rise with the soaring notes. “And until I die! I’ll die day after day. After day, after day. After day, after day. After day…”

There was no reason for Kurt to be afraid any longer. He had found his place in the world and it would continue to grow and expand and those that he loved would always be there with him. He was no longer alone in the world.

“Till the days go by!” he cried out, letting his voice take wing. “Till the days go by!”

He let the last note go with a flourish and felt no fear that his performance hadn’t met the standards of their difficult to please teacher, because he knew that he had done so. He took a steadying breath to center himself and prepare for his next challenge.

The band was waiting for his cue and Kurt slipped held out his arms, his feet firmly planted as if staking his place in the universe.

“Here I stand!” he proclaimed proudly, his voice ringing out through the room as he opened his throat. The band began to play, the lilting music supporting his soaring notes. “My constitution sound, my frame not ill-favoured. My wit ready, my heart light…”

He knew that he was going to surprise a lot of people, his teacher included, with this song. It was one thing to play with light operettas as he learned classical technique. But a proper operatic aria? He doubted that Madam Tibideax would have expected him to display that level of ambition.

“I play the industrious apprentice in a copybook,” he complained, looking affronted at being confined to such a demeaning role as he focused on following the complicated melody. “I submit to the drudge’s yoke. I slave through a lifetime to enrich others, and then be thrown away like a gnawed bone. Not I!”

How often had Kurt allowed himself to be used to benefit others? How many times did he let friends walk all over him to advance themselves at his expense? He could not begin to count the number of times that he swallowed his pride to grant Blaine the spotlight that he demanded, No more…

He looked to his audience with a determined stare. “Have not the grave doctors assured us that good works are of no avail, for heaven predestines all?” he questioned, his voice nimbly dancing up the scale of notes while engaging his vibrato to its fullest. “In my fashion, I may profess myself of their party and herewith entrust myself to Fortune.”

It was a shame that he couldn’t sing this song first. This song was full of bravado about throwing caution to the wind and abandoning bonds of friends and family so as to chase dreams, while the second was recognizing the importance of those bonds to one’s life. But he was glad that he was able to find two songs that complimented one another, and in the end it still worked. Especially when he considered the structure of the show that his first song was featured in, the story being told in reverse time.

Kurt shifted his focus fully to his singing because this was the complicated part. “Since it is not by merit we rise or fall, but the favour of Fortune that governs us all,” he mused aloud, his voice all but dancing over the complicated pattern of notes.

“That governs us all! Why should I labour for what in the end She will give me for nothing if she be my friend?”

Kurt knew, back when he first started working with this song just how different his viewpoint was from his character’s. He wasn’t the kind to just expect good things to come into his life by chance or because he felt that he deserved it just by existing. He knew better than most that even with hard work that successes sometimes needed to be clawed to him and fought for. Had he just waited for the universe to grant him what he wanted he’d still be behind the counter of the Lima Bean back in Ohio.

“While if She not, why, the wealth I might gain for a time by my toil would at last be in vain,” Kurt considered, drawing out the last note of that verse dramatically. “Till I die then, of fever, or by lightning am struck. Let me live by my wits and trust to my luck!”

He struggled to keep his hold on the melody, focusing on enunciating properly while still using enough vibrato for flavor his notes. He knew that Madam TIbideaux was going to give him hell over the lapses in his technique and he knew that this song was well outside his current skill set, but he had to try. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his teacher furiously scribbling down notes and knew that his critique was going to be a very in depth one and that he’d better be prepared for every word of criticism in it.

Allowing a determined smile to cross his face, Kurt squared his shoulders confidently. “My life lies before me,” he proclaimed with determination. “The world is so wide! Come, wishes, be horses… this beggar shall ride!”

His voice soared into his upper register and held the note without breaking, much to Kurt’s satisfaction. He looked up, as if to command the universe to give him what he deserved.

“This beggar shall ride!”

The final notes of the instruments drifted silent and it took a second for his classmates to respond. He heard Jamie give a delighted “Woo!” before the class as a whole began to applaud him. Most of them had gotten to their feet and Kurt allowed himself the moment to enjoy the sense of pride as he took his seat next to Rachel again.

Madam Tibideax was still jotting down notes and Kurt knew that he was going to be rewarded or raked over the coals for throwing caution to the wind as he did. Maybe both, he considered. Either way, his review was likely to be very interesting.

It was late in the afternoon when the last student had finished singing and Madam Tibideaux rose to her feet.

“Well, you’ve all given me quite a bit to think over,” she acknowledged with a satisfied smile. “I’m very pleased that all of you rose to the challenge and chose such interesting material. My office will be in touch to schedule your reviews and we can discuss your training for the coming months.

“But for now, I hope that everyone has a productive summer,” she urged. “Use these weeks to continue training and thinking about how you want to continue to grow as artists.”

Once she had left the Round Room, her students gave a collective sigh of relief that they’d survived the ordeal. Kurt couldn’t help from grinning as he looked at his friends all but slumped in their seats as the tension was released like air from a popped balloon.

“Thank God that’s over,” Jamie groaned, rubbing at is eyes. His girlfriend leaned over to pat his arm reassuringly even though she looked as mentally and physically drained as he did.

Analisa offered her friends a wan smile. “But we survived,” she reminded them. “And I don’t know about all of you, but I seriously need a drink right now. Several drinks.”

Rachel nodded in agreement. “How about we go grab dinner? And a few bottles of wine?”

Kurt quickly considered his schedule. He had his stage combat practical in the morning, but he could afford a glass or two to decompress. “Sounds good to me,” he agreed.

After gathering up his messenger bag, he followed his friends out of their performance space, unable to resist taking a quick glance back at the room where his fortunes had shifted. Kurt smiled and took a deep breath of contentment. He might be a little foolish, but he could almost imagine the atmosphere of the room enveloping him in a warm embrace.

“Kurt, are you coming?” Analisa called. “There’s a bottle of rosé with my name on it waiting.”

He blinked, clearing his head of the mental cobwebs before hurrying to meet the others.

“Coming…”

* * *

The week progressed quickly, with Kurt focused on his exams and practicals. Fortunately, it left him little time for woolgathering as he was either studying, practicing or taking a test of some sort. He would rather die than admit that just maybe Adam had been right all along, but he ended up being glad to not have his life uprooted again while getting through the final days of the semester.

He had also met with his academic advisor to discuss his progress and the classes he should plan on for the coming school year. Now that he’d satisfied all of his core requirements, he could go on to more specialized training. Kurt had almost made the decision to take the advanced levels in his stagecraft classes, and Cassandra July would decapitate him if he bailed out on Advanced Jazz Movement. He did want to continue with his stage combat training.

His voice development would be up to Madam Tibideaux, and he was both anticipating and dreading his meeting with her. For some odd reason, both he and Rachel were scheduled within an hour or one another and they made plans to meet up afterwards to celebrate surviving another year and lick their battle wounds.

Knowing that his teacher despised tardiness, Kurt arrived several minutes early and waited patiently by the Dean’s assistant until he was called inside. Whereas at one time entering the Dean’s office was an exercise in terror, he’d grown accustomed to her ways and was looking forward to getting her review of his performances, even if he was expecting more criticism than normal.

“Have a seat, Mr. Hummel,” Madam Tibideaux offered, the command in her tone carefully concealed with her customary formal curtesy. She hadn’t bothered to look up at his entrance, her dark eyes focused on the papers spread out over her desk. “We have quite a bit to go over today.”

Readying himself to face the firing squad, Kurt took the seat in front of her desk and waited patiently for her to begin. When the Dean finally looked up at him, he sat up and offered his full attention.

“Well, I can’t say that you didn’t give me a great deal to consider,” she mused with a reserved smile, tapping her pen lightly against her desk. “We’ll start off with your first number, which was obviously the one you were most comfortable with.”

Kurt nodded in agreement, knowing that her assessment of that fact was more than fair.

“I do appreciate you choosing another Sondheim number,” she assured him. “You seem to have an affinity for his style of songwriting. And while it bears some similarity to the song you performed at Winter Showcase in style, I think that worked to your advantage in this assignment. You were able to show me very clearly just how much you’ve progressed over the past year and a half. Your technique was exceptional, and you gave me a rendition that would not be out of place on any professional stage, so well done.”

“Thank you, Madam,” he said gratefully, glad that at least one of his songs met her exacting standards. “To be honest, that night did have a lot of influence on my choice of material. I did want to make a clear comparison to my abilities before I started at NYADA.”

“There are few things that I enjoy more than seeing students fulfilling their potential and becoming aware of their progression. You have become a very well-rounded performer,” she assured him. “You’ve always had a distinct talent for communicating the emotional message of the material you choose and able to make it sincere. That’s not a talent that many singers have naturally but you’ve always displayed an emotional maturity in your performances that is very well-developed for someone of your age and level of experience.

“Now you also have the vocal technique to support it. Your breath control was excellent and there was no strain in either the upper or lower ends of your register,” she noted. “You’re also able to bring more warmth into your tone, especially in your upper range which is tempering the sharpness that you sometimes displayed. That gives a lot more depth to your voice and I think that we’ve set a very strong foundation for your future development.”

Kurt allowed himself to relax, just a little bit. If his first song was so well received, then she likely wasn’t going to destroy him over his second.

“As far as your choice of material, you understand your voice well and now see just how much it is capable of. You took full advantage of the first part of the test and picked a song that shows all the best qualities of your performer. So, very well done.”

Kurt couldn’t help from smiling. “Thank you, Madam,” she said sincerely.

His teacher offered him another smile, and the glint in her eyes warned Kurt that the harder part of his critique was about to begin. “Let’s discuss your second number,” she proposed. “What was your thinking when you chose it?”

Kurt had suspected that she might question his choice and had come prepared. “You asked us to choose something that we could aspire to in the future,” he reminded. “I was thinking that doing another Broadway number would be too expected. Too safe, maybe. I wanted to do something that was totally outside of my comfort zone.”

The gleam in Madam Tibideaux’s eyes sharped a bit. “So, logically you thought that opera, which you’ve had only limited training in up until now, would be a good idea?” she questioned pointedly. “That wasn’t exactly Gilbert and Sullivan.”

“Maybe not a good idea,” he granted. “But it was something that I needed to try. I’ve been learning over the past few years that if I choose to limit myself, then I can’t complain if others also limit me.”

Madam Tibideaux cocked her head curiously, her eyes widening slightly at his response and Kurt knew that he would have to explain his rational more fully.

“I know that the odds of me performing material like this in my career are very low,” Kurt acknowledged. “My focus is still performing on Broadway and scores this complex are not exactly the norm. I don’t plan on an opera career. Even if I did, the odds are that I just started vocal training too late to have a reasonable chance at success.”

“I’ll disagree with you on that point,” Madam Tibideaux offered with a reassuring smile. “I think that you’ve got the drive to do anything you set your mind to.”

Kurt was grateful for her reassurance about his prospects. “Still, I know where my aspirations lie. But I thought about your instructions for picking our material and I realized that there’s nothing that I don’t want to do.”

The Dean arched a nearly non-existent eyebrow in response.

He looked at her frankly. “I don’t want to put myself in a position of not being able to handle whatever material is thrown at me. Or that I might prove someone right if they insist that I can’t do something. I don’t know what my future holds, but what I do know is that I need to be prepared to handle anything that might come my way. I don’t want to lose out on a job because the material is outside of my comfort zone.

“So, I chose something that’s totally different from anything I’ve tried to do up until now. And I know that I took a risk, trying to perform opera when I’ve never done it before in front of one of the great opera talents of her generation. But I had to do it,” he insisted. “I couldn’t do anything else and not feel like I wasn’t coasting.”

“Well, I won’t be able to criticize you for lack of courage,” she commented amusedly. “Throwing caution to the wind like that could have been an utter disaster. We haven’t reached the point in your training where I would expect you to manage material like that.

“And I’m not going to sugarcoat this. The flaws were considerable,” his teacher informed him bluntly, never one to beat around the bush if she found something lacking. “There were times when your vibrato was verging on tremolo, which gave the wrong resonance for the song. And your ability to vocally shift octaves wasn’t as smooth as I normally see from you. The pacing of the melody is difficult with the shifts of tempo and while I believe that one day you could have the vocal dexterity to handle it, you’re not there just yet. The melisma for this song seemed to be tripping you and I caught you swallowing your notes at a few points.”

Kurt swallowed tightly but he couldn’t fault her criticism. He’d been aware of every single lapse and error he’d made as he was making them. He paid careful attention to her evaluations, knowing that they were very valid. Having her pointing out his errors was only going to help him to continue growing.

“But despite that, you did make a reasonable showing,” Madam Tibieaux granted. “I’m glad that you selected a song where the timbre matched your natural singing voice because this was a big enough challenge without trying to wrestle a key that you’re not comfortable with. Taking on a role normally suited to a dramatic tenor and doing it with more than a little credibility shows your increased confidence.”

She sat back in her chair, appraising her student carefully. “You also chose to sing for a character that you could conceivably play at some point, which does indicate that you are considering more than just choosing a difficult song that you think would impress me. I will give you credit for ambition, because you are showing me that you are taking your future development seriously. We are going to continue to work on both your classical and contemporary technique as we move forward, and we’ll see just how far we can take this.”

Kurt nodded, knowing that he probably just made his life a lot more difficult, as now his teacher would be even more demanding now that he’s shown that he was interested in pushing his voice to its absolute limits.

She studied him again, as if to take his measure before giving a nod of approval. “I know that you’re going to be busy with your acting job this summer, but I don’t want you to neglect your voice training,” she reminded firmly. “You need to keep up on your exercises so that we don’t lose the progress you’ve made.”

“I definitely will,” he assured her. That hadn’t even been a question as far as he was concerned.

“Good. I also want you to listen to recordings of some of the great classical tenors and countertenors. Really pay attention to their technique,” she instructed. “Listen to their breathing, and how they are able to support their notes. You should be able to come away with a bit more understanding of the mechanics of operatic singing and be prepared to start putting it into application when we meet next semester.”

Kurt considered the idea and decided that it would be very useful to have examples to follow and to have a few weeks before he met his teacher next to see what worked best for him.

Madam Tibideaux studied him carefully, finally granting him a reassuring smile. “I think that you are correct that even if you keep your focus on conventional musical theater, you can only benefit from continued training like this. It will help improve your strength and vocal flexibility. We’ve been working with some of the basics over the past few months, but if you feel that you’re ready, we’re going to take the training wheels off. I’ve come to expect quite a bit from you and since you’ve shown me just how steep your ambition is, I’m going to do my best to make sure that you achieve that.”

A little voice in the back of Kurt’s mind began to whine about what he was letting himself in for a world of hurt, but that bit of doubt was quickly drowned out by a veritable tidal wave of excitement over what this new phase of his training might bring. It felt like he had managed to pry open some ancient tome of secret knowledge that would bring him the world. Kurt thought that he’d come to know Madam Tibideaux fairly well by that point and he knew that she wouldn’t agree to try to teach him something that she didn’t think he was capable of achieving. He’d only needed to prove that he was ready for it.

By the time he was finally dismissed, Kurt was both drained and elated about what the next two years might bring. He’d known going into this that he was throwing down a bit of a gauntlet to his teacher and that she would certainly respond. It had gone as well as he could have hoped, even though he knew that he’d just made his life even more demanding. As hard as he’d worked since he started his education at NYADA, the challenge he faced was at least doubled. But he was looking forward to seeing just how far he could rise.

Rachel was waiting outside the office for her meeting with Madam Tibideaux and saw him leaving the room with a satisfied grin on his face. “I’m guessing that it went well,” she surmised playfully.

“Well, we’ll know how well after school starts in the fall and I see how well I survive what she’s going to throw at me,” Kurt quipped self-deprecatingly. He knew that he was asking for this and certainly couldn’t complain that their teacher was in the mood to oblige him.

“I’m going to my room to pack a few things,” he informed his friend. “Call me when you’re done so we can grab some coffee.”

“Will do,” she assured him. They hugged quickly, Kurt offering a supportive pat to her back before he headed back to his dorm room for one of the last times.

* * *

“Rachel, she’s ready for you,” Madam Tibideaux’s secretary informed her, opening the door to grant the student entrance.

Rachel took a deep breath to steady her nerves, readying herself to accept her teacher’s judgement. With as much confidence as she could muster, she stepped into the office and paused in front of her desk, waiting to be acknowledged.

Madam Tibideaux was reviewing some notes, apparently content to let her student stew for a moment before she looked up at the younger woman. “Have a seat, Ms. Berry,” she ordered, pushing her reading glasses up to a more comfortable position.

Rachel took the chair opposite Madam Tibideaux’s desk and smoothed out her skirt.

Madam Tibideaux took one last glance at her notes before turning her full attention to her student. “Well… I do have to say that this is a very different position than we found ourselves in last year,” she pronounced, looking very pleased over that fact. “To be honest, I wasn’t certain that we were going to get to this point. I’m delighted that you were able to bounce back from the mistakes you made.”

That sounded like things were off to a good start, Rachel thought, allowing herself to smile at her teacher. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. “I’ve been trying very hard to overcome what happened last year.”

“I know that this year was a serious challenge for you, as you were trying to unlearn a lot of things,” Madam Tibideaux granted. “Not to mention negating the poor impression you’d built with your teachers and fellow students. I’ve been very demanding of you because I knew that you could do better than what you were giving me, and I’m happy to see that you rose to the occasion. I’ve been getting a lot of good feedback from all of your teachers, and your work on the spring musical has not gone unnoticed. I was admittedly curious to see how you would manage in a supporting role and you very much exceeded what I could have expected. You certainly have changed, and for the better.”

Rachel couldn’t hold back a smile of satisfaction, thrilled that she had been able to repair the damage that she’d so blindly caused to herself.

“Now… let’s take a look at your critique performances,” the teacher said, shifting their focus. “Choosing to do a song that doesn’t highlight the sheer power of your voice forced you to engage the other performance skills that you’ve been working on the past year. It would have been too easy for you to pick a song like ‘Defying Gravity’,”

Rachel nodded in agreement. “That exactly what I was thinking,” she acknowledged, relieved that she’d chosen correctly. “I always hoped to play Elphaba one day and I know that this song is at a critical point of her character’s development. If I didn’t perform that in a way that gets as much response as the bigger numbers get, then I can’t expect the audience to buy her evolution.”

Madam Tibideaux didn’t seem surprised by her answer, but definitely pleased by it. “When you’re not performing the entire role and just doing individual songs in class, it’s easy to lose track of your character’s full storyline. You’re finally at the point where you’re not just using a song to highlight your voice and you’re starting to consider what your character is going through at that moment. And doing so in a way that doesn’t feel contrived,” she complimented, offering her student a reassuring smile. “This is what I’ve been trying to get out of you for two years, so good work.”

“Thank you, Madam,” Rachel said, smiling with quiet satisfaction that she had finally managed to truly satisfy her demanding teacher. “I’ve been working very hard to opening up more when I perform.”

“It’s been showing,” Madam Tibideaux assured her. “I’m starting to see more of how Rachel Berry would perform the role and a lot less of you copying other performers. It’s still something of a work in progress because as much as you want your audience to see you, they need to see the character first. Figuring out how to balance that is not easy, but you have made a great deal of progress.”

Rachel couldn’t help from feeling proud of what she’d accomplished over the past few months. She knew that she still had a long way to go, but she was on the path the becoming the performer that she’d always hoped to be.

“Someone very wise told me to stop worrying about being the next Barbra and to focus on being the best Rachel,” she explained to her teacher, feeling a deep sense of appreciation for Kurt driving that lesson through her thick skull and not giving up on her. She would not be sitting there if it weren’t for the help he’d given her, even when she hadn’t deserved it.

Rachel had a feeling that Madam Tibideaux would be able to guess who’d been the one to finally reach her. The Dean leaned back in her chair, appraising her student carefully. “I’m very happy that you had someone that you trusted who was able to give you such excellent advice. And the more comfortable you get with stepping back so that the character shines through, the more convincing your performances will become. You did a wonderful job this past spring and I know that you’ve got an opportunity this summer to build on what you’ve learned. I hope that you take advantage of that,” she urged.

Rachel nodded enthusiastically. “I definitely will,” she promised confidently.

Madam Tibideaux nodded approvingly at her student’s enthusiasm for actually learning. “Good. Let’s take a look at your second song, because things got really interesting there.”

The younger woman couldn’t resist smiling and leaned forward in her seat, paying attention to every word from her teacher.

Madam Tibideaux checked her notes again. “I was admittedly curious to see what direction you would go in and to say the least, I was a little surprised that you would choose such an emotionally complex and unglamorous role to step into. Little Edie is a very difficult character to play, because she has so many conflicting emotions. This song you chose distills all the conflicts of her life and balancing those struggles and showing the pressures that she’s under. It’s harsh and ugly and I give you credit for choosing to attempt a character so alien to any that you’ve taken on before.”

Rachel smiled gratefully, glad that she had chosen in a manner that impressed her teacher. “I know that I was stuck on the same kind of character, and that my outlook was very limited,” she granted. “When we were doing the show this spring, I got the chance to play some really interesting characters, even if they were all background figures. You’re not going to get less glamorous than a beggar or prostitute.

“And this summer, I’m going to play a woman who’s borderline insane. I thought that it would for me to do something completely out of left field,” Rachel explained. “I mean, no one would expect me to pick that role. And I found the story really interesting.”

Her answer seemed to satisfy Madam Tibideax, who granted her a rare nod of approval. “The most superficially unappealing characters tend to be the most interesting,” she confided. “Sometimes the lead characters can be a bit one-dimensional because the show needs the audience to be rooting for them. I always found more satisfaction at playing a truly compelling character, even in a supporting role and they often can draw the audience’s focus.

“A character like Little Edie will be fascinating to an audience because she can be both very sympathetic and repelling at the same time. It takes a very skilled actress to bring a character like that to life and I give you a lot of credit for trying.”

“But I didn’t succeed. Did I?” Rachel asked, her face falling a bit in disappointment.

Her normally stern teacher offered a reassuring smile. “It wasn’t bad,” she assured Rachel. “Lacking in nuance, maybe. On the level of what I would expect from a second-year theater student. You were very ambitious with your choice, which is a good thing. I would have been very frustrated if you weren’t shooting for the stars. This gives us a goal to work towards.”

Rachel could not help the expression of hope from becoming apparent. It was still difficult for her to hear criticism on something that she’d worked hard on, but she knew that she needed to listen. As difficult as she could be, Madam Tibideaux was working for her benefit.

“A performance like this needs a lot of layers to make it fully realized,” Madam Tibideaux explained. “You need to expose every raw nerve in that character’s body and make the audience feel all of her anger and frustration and love for her mother. It can’t be pretty or a façade. It’s got to be real.

“Technically, you can sing pretty much anything,” she assured her student. “Where you fall short is by focusing too much on the mechanics of the performance and not the soul. You can’t just look at the story that Little Edie exists in. You have to see her and present her as a fully realized person to your audience. That will come with opening yourself to be as ugly as her life is. And I can help you do that.”

The Dean tapped her pen thoughtfully on her desk as she considered how they would proceed going forward. “Melding acting and singing is a huge challenge that you will have to overcome. I think that your role this summer can help you with this. Pay attention to your character and her place in the storyline. Look at how she exists in that space and how the other characters respond to her. Try to build in the layers that make her a whole person so that the audience sees it.”

“I’m going to do my best,” Rachel promised, realizing the steep task that awaited her. She knew that she wasn’t going to get away with overacting or mugging in that kind of venue. Not when finally having the chance to work in a professional production.

“Good,” Madam Tibideaux complimented. “Next semester, besides your technical classes, I think that you would benefit from the Synthesis and Presentation class. It will help you in learning how to understand your character and tailor your performances. You might also consider a writing class, so that you get a better grasp of story development.”

Rachel considered the suggestion and recognized that those classes could very possibly help her further her acting development. “I’ll have to rework my class schedule, but I’m sure that I’ll be able to fit them in,” she assured her teacher.

“Excellent,” Madam Tibideaux said approvingly. “Because going forward, I won’t be holding back when you give me a technically proficient but emotionally superficial presentation. I want to see the kind of depth that I know you’re capable of.”

“I’ll do my very best to give it to you,” Rachel promised. The next year or so were going to be rough ones, because she knew that her teacher would stand for no more technically pretty but emotionally stagnant performances from her. She’d better be prepared to carve her heart out and present it to Madam Tibideaux if that’s what it took.

Madam Tibideaux offered her student a smile of encouragement. “I hope that you have a wonderful and productive summer,” she urged. “I’m pleased that you’re finding opportunities to help you to continue growing as a performer. I know that the past two years have been challenging ones for you, but you’re showing that you are capable of everything I’d hoped. Keep up with the good work and I’ll see you in the fall.”

“Thank you, Madam,” Rachel answered sincerely, feeling like she was beaming with happiness at how things had gone. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so thrilled after a critique because it finally seemed like she was on the right path.

Walking out of the Dean’s office, Rachel felt light as air. Madam Tibideaux’s assistant caught her expression and smiled knowingly. “Looks like you had a good one,” she surmised with a chuckle.

Rachel laughed, knowing that if anyone could guess how a critique had gone, it would be this young woman. Students either exited the Dean’s office smiling or in tears. There was little middle ground.

“It wasn’t bad,” Rachel confirmed happily. “Thank so much. You have a good summer.”

“You too, Rachel. See you in September.”

Walking down the hallway, Rachel felt the spring in her step and a lightness within her. Rather than being irritated by the crowd of students around her as they hurried to their own tests and reviews, she move smoothly through the crowd and nodded casual greetings to classmates and friends. For maybe the first time in her life, she felt at peace with herself. The urgent need to cement her place at the top of the heap, to make others feel small in order for her to feel big was gone. She was confident in herself and knew that while there would be struggles in her future, Rachel was confident that she would be able to achieve her dreams.

One day, she told herself with a smile. As for now… she needed to meet Kurt. She had been promised an iced coffee and she was determined to collect on that.

* * *

Rachel's solos: "I'm Not That Girl" - Wicked                           "Around the World" - Grey Gardens

Kurt's solos: "Not a Day Goes By" - Merrily We Roll Along                      "Here I Stand" - The Rake's Progress by Igor Stravinsky

[psyga315]

Rewriting a Mykan fanfic: Hate of the Sea

I don’t have a hatred towards Dakari King Mykan and I don’t think he’d want any pity. When he isn’t guided by biases or how he wanted something to end, he can write decent stories. No blockbusters but definitely not bad.

However, that’s the problem with Mykan. He views life in a way that’s so cynical, that even I, a guy who has quite a lot of cynical fanfics up his sleeve (including some rewrites that are darker than the shows they try to fix), reel in disgust. Mykan is a guy who goes out of his way to make a character from My Little Pony have a miscarriage because he didn’t like how she represents love. And that was just the one of two options people got to vote for. The other was killing off her husband for that exact same reason. The lightest story he wrote that I read was about a down-on-his-luck character-of-the-week from Inuyasha ends up getting together with the woman he loved.

So, I decided to use my slightly optimistic approach to stories to write up an alternate take on Mykan’s story: Hate of the Sea, a Little Mermaid fanfic where Mykan’s intent was to give Ariel and Melody a lesson about the real world, that not everything has a happy ever after ending… And I’m not sure if he’s read up on how the original Little Mermaid ended.

First off, let’s change that theme. We’ll still teach Ariel and Melody a lesson about the real world, but a lot less cynical: the cycle of revenge. Yes, yes, roll your eyes, but before Neil Druckmann destroyed that message to hell and back (along with some unpaid employees), the tale of someone wanting revenge and the pain of actually going through with it is an interesting tale that has multiple outcomes depending on your outlook. Do you want to be a cynic and show how revenge can make someone as ugly as the person who wronged them in the first place? An optimist who wants to show a more peace filled solution to the conflict? Someone who just wants someone to say “payback is a bitch” and leave it at that? Or are you a middle-of-the-road guy who observes the theme and stretches it out to its logical conclusion?

And, best part is, the ground work is already laid out for us. If you can, read Hate of the Sea to see what I’m talking about. You’ll get a better idea of where I’m going with this. For now, though, let’s start at the beginning. Things stay relatively the same, with a throwaway line about how Tip and Dash, Melody’s sidekicks in Little Mermaid 2, returned to the arctic because it’s summer time. The immediate change will be Count Aquis’s minions: Electricon and Angelicon.

A slight change though, making them more mystical than the sudden technological shift, to better tie in with the mythos of the Little Mermaid, so no piranha missiles. Also, I’d probably rename them because they’re honestly generic (and would be better for Transformer faction names anyways) but the best I can think of is Eelektross for Electricon and I think that’s already taken. Think I’ll go with Uma for the Angel monster and Leech for the Eel.

The biggest change, though, comes in Count Aquis. I’ll give more details later, but the long story short of it is that he’s looking for Melody. We don’t know this at first, instead having him vaguely saying “where is she” and giving the wrong memo that he meant Ariel. The group is successful in sacking a town and capturing mermaids. They leave the mermen and other sea creatures be. Upon seeing Triton, he has it out for him and tries to kill him, only for Flounder to take the blow.

Flounder retreats to the surface to warn Ariel of her impending danger while Triton faces Aquis off, leaving his fate unknown. Melody’s interactions with Samuel stays the same. Scuttle comes by later that night to deliver an injured Flounder who warns that there’s a terrible threat in the ocean that’s looking for Ariel. The first conclusion they reach is that it’s someone with a connection to Ursula, given the last person who gave them trouble was her sister, but Flounder gives them a description of the man and even says how his hate seems to know no bounds… He then passes away, signifying that this is serious business. Ariel mourns for her closest friend as Eric and Melody comfort her.

Cut to Aquis, where I don’t change a lot of what happens. I think increase the bickering between Leech and Uma and showcase their characteristics a bit more. I kinda see a Sidorak and Roodaka (from Bionicle) relationship between them where Leech is the brawn who thinks he’s top of the world and Uma is the brains who seeks Aquis’s sole approval, though that’s probably because I recently seen a review of Web of Shadows and thought Roodaka was a cool villain. That or increase the Jindrax/Toxica relation and have them bicker, yes, but still show how much of good friends they are.

Either way, Aquis cares not. He wants Melody no matter what. We also see his sea-mutants, horrific mishmashes of sea creatures (If you played Impossible Creatures, you’ll have some idea of what I mean), and how little he cares of them, as he eats a shrimp-jellyfish hybrid right in front of Leech and Uma to emphasize what kind of punishment they would receive should they fail him. They go on their way as Aquis looks at the amulet he has… and cries.

As before, Melody’s interactions with Samuel are the same, but Samuel’s discussion about his master is changed. Instead, he reveals that he was adopted by a person and is considered to be a father to him. Basically, he doesn’t have the “used to be a street rat until Aquis found me and paid me to do his dirty work”. This adds a little more mystery to who the “Surface Agent” is. Another thing to note is that Samuel was orphaned as a baby in a shipwreck and, eerily enough, he’s about a year or so older than Melody, which causes the people who’ve seen the Little Mermaid to go “ooooooooh nooooo…”

Instead of coming across Leech and Uma, Samuel comes across a new person: Professor Aquarius, his adoptive father. At first, Samuel is excited about the new girl he met and how he’s in love. Aquarius seems to be proud of him until he says that her name is Melody. Aquarius then scowls, but doesn’t say anything. Last thing he wants is to invoke Romeo and Juliet on his son. Instead, he encourages him to keep hanging out with Melody, even giving him a pat on the back, which turns out to be a leech-dolphin hybrid that latches onto the nape of his neck and emits sonar for him to sense.

To confirm who he is, Aquarius feels his skin drying up as he gasps for air. He then runs to an already filled tub and slams his head into it, his face shedding any human features in trade for the more ferocious looking face of Count Aquis. The next chapter opens with Aquis returning to his lair, with Uma asking if he managed to find the girl. He says yes, but they need to wait for the right time. Uma asks if Aquis loves the surface so much that he would abandon his mission. She sings a song to the tune of the Reversed Song of Healing (The notes will be reversed, meaning it’d be preformed without the song actually going backwards, if that makes sense) that reminds him of years gone by.

At this same time, this is where we get the info dump on who Professor Aquarius was from Eric, who learned of him when he was a kid. While Aquarius was denounced as a madman for concluding his research in intelligent life in the sea with “there’s mermaids!”, he managed to hook up with an idealist whose mind was wide open and they went sailing in search for the mermaids, vowing to find a way to live underwater so that drowning wouldn’t be a fate.

However, as Eric says how they disappeared off the face of the earth, the song becomes a harsh, oceanic operetta where we see a flashback to Aquarius and his wife, who is holding a newly born baby, braving through a storm. Flashes of lightning shows a silhouette of a figure emerging from the water with a strong glow. Then, lightning hits the ship, destroying it and separating Aquarius from his wife and daughter. We see the wife land, only to see the mast fall on top of her (with that traditional Disney cut away to show Aquarius’s reaction). The baby ends up being swept in the sea as Aquarius falls ever deeper in the midnight sea…

It then cuts to Aquis’s crying face as he wipes his tears. Uma lets Aquis mourn in peace and solidify his feelings for revenge. She then goes to Leech, who is annoyed and asks “how much longer do we need to put up with that crybaby?” To which she responds: “patience, he’ll get what we need soon enough and then…”, and, as a cruel call back, she too eats a shrimp-jellyfish to show what she means. They then hear metal break and they go to investigate it.

Eric decides to break the tension by asking Melody how the date went, much to her embarrassment. However, before they could discuss any further, they hear a cry for help and immediately go despite the clear warning against going into the sea. There, they see a woman trying to escape the clutches of Leech and Uma. Ariel and Melody manage to get them away, with Sebastian having in on the action.

“Dat one’z for Flounda, ye beeches!” as he snips on Leech’s tail.

They rescue the woman and bring her to safety. They find out her name is Atta and that she was imprisoned with members of a resistance force who had been fighting Aquis for twenty years. She explains more about who Aquis is and why he didn’t intervene during Little Mermaids 1, 2, 3, and the show (long story short, the resistance kept Aquis busy and his goals would conflict with the Octo-sisters and Marina anyways), and also tells Ariel that Triton’s alive and is recovering at her place. Ariel wants to go, but Eric tries to stop her, saying that they barely made it out of fighting Leech and Uma alive and that it would be safer if they remained on dry land.

Melody, however, insists. Samuel gets involved as well, and he joins the party. Instead of a pill that turns Eric and Samuel into the N64 Zora, it’d be a magic amulet that Triton had been crafting ever since Melody destroyed the wall and reunited humanity with mermanity. Atta leads them to the resistance HQ known as Sanctuary and red flags blare up when she insists no one tell anyone where it is.

Triton and Ariel reunite, though not without bringing up how Flounder died. Triton is a bit remorseful, but we don’t know why. Likewise, Samuel looks to be intimidated by Triton’s presence, something that Melody notices. She just assumes it’s because Triton has a six pack or some other silly reason. Triton then explains what he knows of Aquis, or rather, his master, Oceanus.

Oceanus was a Titan who dueled with Triton’s father, Poseidon and the battle rendered the seas blood red (hence the Red Sea) and they had no means to defeat Oceanus. So, they used a planetary alignment of every planet up to Saturn to open up a gate to Tartarus and seal Oceanus up. Keen-eyed viewers will note that the bars have been broken and they had to fix it, reflecting how this took place after Hercules.

As far as Triton’s concerned, Oceanus is still sealed up, but he has an idea on who Aquis is… He says that he might be Oceanus’s prophet. Someone who lives only to serve Oceanus. Later on, Melody and Samuel chat and while Samuel doesn’t say much, what he does say solidifies their love for each other. As Melody goes to talk with her parents, Uma and Leech tell him that he needs to break the barrier. As Samuel refuses, the leech begins to dig deep into his neck and the blood begins to attract sharks. Uma reveals through this that she’s the one who is able to mutate the creatures to be hybrids. Leech wraps himself around Samuel and tells him flat out that if he doesn’t do as they say, he’s dead.

Samuel is forced to go to his chagrin. Meanwhile, Atta talks with Ariel about the struggles of being a mother, to which Atta replies that she has no family, or any memory of one. All she does is serve the resistance. Up to the betrayal, it plays out normally. The only change would be Samuel trying to say why he was afraid of Triton, only for Aquis emerges to capture Melody. She begs Samuel to help her, but Samuel frowns.

“You did well, son.” Aquis pats Samuel on the back and tells Melody that he was the one who rescued him from the storm. When Melody asks if he’s lying, Samuel confirms, then grips his fists.

“This was all… for what your grandfather took from me that night!” Samuel said as Melody is knocked unconscious. She then wakes up in a cell where Samuel sees her as they have a rather sad duet about how Samuel could never be part of any world, not because he backstabs people, but because he does it out of the hatred in his heart. Out of spite. The sad thing is, he’s painfully aware of it and knows that what he has to do next will destroy his bond with Melody: avenge his parents by killing Triton.

Back at the Sanctuary, it gets invaded by Leech and Uma in an attempt to crush them. They succeed and take them prisoner, including Ariel and co. Samuel awaits in a chamber with Aquis and asks why they must harm Melody. Aquis then explains how Melody is a product of true love and that destroying it would cause even the cosmos to despair and lend its energy to Oceanus. Samuel frowns before Aquis reminds him that Triton brought this onto himself.

Because Eric is captured too, we cut a large chunk out that I felt was unneeded. So, Eric wakes up with the rest as Aquis comes in. This is the first time he sees Aquis. He also sees Melody on an altar and puts two and two together, demanding that Aquis lets her go and even offering to take her place. Aquis wants none of this and seaweeds his mouth shut. He then explains that he’ll sacrifice Melody to Oceanus and destroy the entire sea level. Eric bites through the seaweed and demands to know who Aquis is.

Aquis takes off his mask as we see a gillman version of Aquarius with pointed teeth. They all retch at his form, even Samuel, as he explains that he would have died during the storm if it wasn’t for Oceanus offering a helping hand. In trade for servitude, Oceanus would give him the means to conduct revenge. He then forces Triton to confess. Triton frowns and we get another view of that operetta where we see the man with the glowing power was actually Triton.

Ariel wonders why he would do such a thing, to which Triton confessed that he was grieving for Athena, his wife, and wanted revenge and so killed any humans who would dare swim over Alantica. He mellowed out when Ariel met Eric, obviously, but that’s when Samuel calls him out. This is the first time Eric and Ariel see Samuel on the villain’s side, but as soon as he brings up his pain, they understand.

“ADMIT IT! YOU KILLED MY PARENTS TOO! YOUR XENOPHOBIC FERVOR RUINED MY LIFE!” Samuel cries out.

“… Yes… I did it. It’s all my fault. I’m the reason your parents are killed… Please, if it satisfies you… Kill me instead. Oceanus would be pleased to know the blood of Poseidon’s only son will sate his thirst than a granddaughter.” He accepts his fate…

But Aquis wants none of it. He tells Samuel to kill Melody and let her blood attract Oceanus out of prison while the eclipse is about to begin. Samuel looks over Melody, who defiantly stares at him, as though goading him to do it. Samuel cries and says “I’m sorry”…

Before impaling Aquis with his dagger. He says that he’ll take up Triton’s offer and frees Melody. Melody, however, attacks Samuel and the two struggle over the dagger. Ariel is moved to tears at seeing what would have been lovers driven to try and kill each other. We’re not gonna make it too violent, just grabbing each other and tussling around.

Uma and Leech come in to Aquis’s aid, or rather, to kill the mermen (and Eric), but as soon as Uma sees Ariel, she takes the time to gloat about how her happily ever after will be a happily never after. Melody warns Ariel of her mutant controlling powers and Eric manages to deck her in the face. Triton recognizes Uma’s witchery and calls her out for learning under Ursula. Uma laughs… Ursula isn’t her teacher. She’s her mother.

Eric’s like “let me guess, you want revenge too?”, but then she laughs. She never knew her mother personally and in order to have hate, you would need to know what love is. She only wants to bring Oceanus back so that she can do what her family failed to do long ago: rule the ocean. While this is going on, Melody gets the upper hand and holds the dagger over Samuel’s neck… She struggles… then drops the dagger and cries. She doesn’t want to kill her first love. She lets Samuel go after tossing the dagger away and Samuel has no idea what to do…

He then sees Uma approach the trident that had been locked up and takes it for herself, smiling at the fact that she’ll be the third member of her family to wield the power to shape the oceans as she sees fit… As she uses it to cause lightning storms, Samuel has flashbacks to when he was a baby. His family was caught in a rough storm and one thing he remembers was a large silhouette of a creature with many tendrils holding the Trident.

Those same tendrils emerge from Uma as she uses the Trident. He began to draw his conclusion and, in a rage, tackles Uma to the ground, knocking her and causing the Trident to hit Leech. Leech has a dumb muscle moment where he goes “I don’t feel so good…” before fading away. Uma sees Leech disappear and is distraught. She then glares at Samuel and tries to kill him, only for his fist to punch her face.

“YOU DID IT?! DIDN’T YOU!? YOU KILLED MY PARENTS!” Samuel shouted. Melody pulls him away as Uma gets up. Now she’s lusting for revenge. Aquis, however, gets up and is armed with the Trident. Samuel quickly breaks the group out and now we get a free-for-all, but, without the trident, they can’t win. Atta gets close to killing him… But then notices something familiar. She remembers a man over her crib, singing a lullaby version of Under The Sea. The man? Aquarius.

“Dad?” She asks. Aquarius is confused… She then recites the song. Sebastian just gives the dude the stink eye and goes “dood, ya reep aff mah sheet, mon?” Aquarius remembers his own daughter and holds her tightly. Atta then remembers what happened that night. As she sank to the ocean, Triton managed to save her life and, believing her life would be better off as a mermaid, turned her into one.

Aquarius is both mad and glad at Triton for saving his daughter. He had no idea how to react… Nor will he have the chance as Uma claws into Aquarius.

“You took away the one thing I cherished in this cesspool of an ocean… Now… I take away your lives!” She then causes him to bleed profusely, the blood being used to summon Oceanus. Oceanus takes over the body of Aquis and he has a tentaclelike aura kinda like Ashitaka’s arm from Princess Mononoke, just to emphasize the theme of hate. And, like before, Oceanus eats Uma to boost his powers.

The final battle commences like normal, except that Aquarius’s actions are “be a monster”. Samuel and Melody manage to impale the possessed Aquis and, as Oceanus began to retreat, Triton zaps him with the Trident, rendering the weakened Titan into nothing but sea foam. The oceans are returned to normal.

The final chapter is where things are completely different. Aquarius lays dying from his wound. Triton approaches Aquarius and apologizes for his crimes. Aquarius smiles and says how he managed to do good in his xenophobic rage… He then pleads to Triton to take care of Atta for him before he dies. Atta grieves for her father, but doesn’t let it turn into rage. She instead asks Triton to make her a human so that she could live where her father once lived, to be a part of his world.

He complies, makes her human, and then goes to Samuel, who feels conflicted with the whole ordeal, asking Triton what actually happened that night. Triton mentions Uma’s mother, Ursula, and how she terrorized the ocean for a brief while. As far as he was concerned, the ship he was on was completely wrecked and there were no survivors. When he said it was his fault, he refers to how she managed to get the Trident in the first place: through manipulating Ariel who had been criminally neglected. Samuel looks over to Aquarius and mourns him, saying how he was a father when he had none and now that he’s gone, there’s nothing left to look forward to.

Atta offers a home with her, saying they’ll pick up the pieces together. Samuel jumps on the offer, then goes to Melody, apologizing for the betrayal and nearly killing her grandfather. She does the one thing he has no idea how to react to: She forgives him. She forgives Aquis. And like that, the cycle of revenge ends… But… For someone who all their life had knew nothing but hate of the sea… That’s not enough.

He apologizes to Melody, but even though he’s forgiven by her, he still can’t forgive himself, especially with his feelings towards Triton not going away any time soon. So, he departs with Atta, much to Melody’s sadness, but the overall note is that, once he’s gotten over himself, he’ll reunite with her, as we see a year later where he return to Melody, a better man now.

We end with the two sharing a kiss as we zoom out to the ocean, ending the Little Mermaid 4: Hate of the Sea and the overall moral being that revenge is a painful cycle and it only ends with forgiveness.