#on mobile so no cutoff sorry!

[mr-t-stark]

Magic. Right, that's a thing. Don't get him wrong; Tony's seen some pretty insane shit throughout his superheroing career. He's friends with Captain America, for god's sake. And the man's probably hundreds of years old or something.

But magic. He knows superhumans and mutants and the like exists, but teaming up with one is... Well. It's gonna take some time to wrap his head around it.

Tony's a man of science. He knows miracles don't exist and if they do, there's always a scientific explanation for them. The idea of magic simply existing goes against everything he's ever learned.

She can move objects. With her magic. That's practically breaking the laws of physics. He's never seen anything like it before. There's a spike of excitement and curiosity there. Perhaps a bit of disbelief, a smaller bit of skepticism.

"That's... fascinating," he says, honest. "Never heard of it. What's a sling ring anyway?" He's curious. He can't help it. Tony's always been curious in nature. He wants to see this magic in action. "How does it work? Are you channeling some kind of energy from that 'sling ring'? Where does it come from?"

It's odd to think there's always been a group of people with magical abilities just living underground without anyone's knowledge. There aren't any physical or digital trace of them, as far as Tony could find, so he supposes he can hear the answers straight from the horse's mouth.

"And you're saying there's a whole community of people with this ability?"

Tony hums when she mentions his newer projects and the change he's brought to SI. He nods slowly. "Yeah, well." He suppresses a wince at the mention of his father.

He remembers a missile, dropping right in front of his face. He remembers the way people had screamed and bled and fallen to the ground as the explosion sounded off. He remembers his name--which was his father's, and his father's father's, and his father's before that--written on it like a blame. A taunt.

"Yeah," Tony breathes in steadily. "It had to be done."

She attempts to tease him. He appreciates the change.

"Fury's our controlling manager that doesn't let us do shit," he retorts, a smirk sticking to each word.

He enters the floor to the lab, but is stopped at Ava's question. He raises a brow.

Two can play this game.

His teeth show when he grins. He tilts his head to the side, delicate and deliberate. He leans into her ear, just for the fun of it, whispers, "Eager now, aren't we?"

And then quickly pulls back. "No rules." He fixes his eyes on hers with intent. He turns to go down the lab, gesturing for her to follow.

"You coming?" he asks, sauntering over to the lab door.

"Welcome, sir." JARVIS greets him when he enters. "And nice to meet you, Ms. Thompson. I am Mr. Stark's computer system and artificial intelligence assistant."

"Hey, J. Just touring the newbie around. Why don't you take over?"

"Certainly, sir," JARVIS' voice answers from the ceiling. An area lights up to their left as the rest of the room grows dim, a hologram of the tower appearing mid-air, turning around in a circle. Lines and descriptions appear on each floor. "Upon entering you will be spoken and identified in the lobby. The Tower itself contains offices," the lower floor where they came from lit up, and the following floors followed suit as JARVIS continues. "The lab where you are standing, training areas and the gym, the party deck for private and recreational events and occasions, private living quarters with rooms designated for each of the Avengers, as well as the common area."

"Well," Tony says. "Looks like you've got all that covered. Thanks, J."

"Of course, sir. It is my pleasure."

Tony nods and turns to Ava. "So, would you want to check out the training area, or..." he lowers his voice at this, "Shall I take you to your private quarters should you want someplace with more... privacy?"

It's an open offer.

Well, Tony can agree on that. Certain team members need to pull the stick they've got shoved up their asses and loosen up a bit.

"Oh, I can show you some fun," he says, leading the way. He leads her down the long hallway, brushing past staff and workers alike, occasionally looking behind him or to the side to see if she's following.

"The suits?" He gives it some thought. "'Cause they're cool and I can use them to beat up bad guys." he decides to say, simply.

The suits were... Perhaps an obsession. Ever since Afghanistan, the suits felt like armour to him. He's seen the things SI's weapons could do; all of that was irreversible. But if he used his tech and inventions for good, to protect rather than destroy, then maybe he could make up for it. (Some part of him knows they never will, but it's easy to hope.)

He decides not to say any of that, however.

"The lower floors--we're in one right now--is where most of the missions and business shit happens. That, there--" he points to a room, "--is the room we keep all the mission reports and confidential documents. Authorised personnel only, blah blah blah. Rogers would probably take hours explaining that part but luckily for you, I'm not him."

He walks further down, explaining each office and each room briefly.

"I'll take you to the lab where me and Brucey-bear hang out. That's the green guy."

Once they reach the elevator, it dings open only moments after he presses the button.

"Ladies first," he says, hand gesturing towards the open doors.

[breella]

Of Course I’ll Kill it For You

Ruhn’s girlfriend is deathly afraid of spiders and it causes a commotion.

A/n: This was written on mobile in like 10 minutes so I’m sorry for any mistakes. I love Ruhn so much.

Content warning: Cursing and spiders. I think that’s all but if you see anything else please let me know.

Y/N: I’m scared

You sent the text to Ruhn without even thinking about it. There was a giant spider by your bedroom door and there was no way you were moving past it. You kept your eyes on it, making sure it wasn’t going to attack you.

Y/N: I think it’s going to kill me.

You fired off another text to your boyfriend.

You could have sworn the spider was looking at you. It was definitely plotting your untimely demise. You should have been getting ready to meet Ruhn and your friends at the White Raven, but there was no way in Hel you were walking past that evil creature to get to your closet. You picked up your phone again a few minutes later to see why Ruhn wasn’t texting you back.

“Shit” you muttered to yourself. Your phone was dead and the charger was of course in a different room. You were trying to muster up the courage to run past it. You even stood up from the bed. As soon as you began to take a step the spider scurried across the wall stopping directly across from where you were standing.

“Ahh” you scream and jumped back on the bed. You were under no circumstances trying that again. You made peace with your fate. You were either going to die from starvation or be eaten by that damn spider.

You should be meeting Ruhn and your friends any minute. They would never let you live this down if they found out you were cowering in the corner of your bed from a spider.

You heard the faint sound of footsteps down the hall of your apartment. Relief washed over you. Maybe Ruhn had decided to pick you up here before heading to the White Raven. The footsteps were gettin closer but there was more than one set. There were multiple people and it sounded like they were running. You slumped against your headboard. It was probably just your neighbors.

Suddenly you were startled by loud banging on your apartment door. “Y/n! Y/n answer me!” You heard Ruhn yell. He sounded frantic. Worry settled in your gut. Something awful must have happened.

“Ru-“ you started to call back to him but were cutoff by the sound of your apartment door being busted open.

“Y/n where are you?” Ruhn called sounded just as panicked as before. You could hear him and the others walking around your apartment.

“In here” you called. You were filled with dread and worry. You couldn’t think of anything that would make him barge in your apartment sounding like that. You had never heard him sound so upset. He was usually calm and collected in alarming situations.

Your bedroom door slammed open with force. Ruhn ran to you cupping your face and looking you over as Declan and Flynn walked in the room with confused looks on their faces. Both were holding guns and scanning the room.

“Are you alright? What happened?” Ruhn asked.

“I’m fine” you said slowly. Confusion taking over the worry you were previously filled with. “What do you mean what happened? You are the one who barged in here like a mad man. What’s wrong?”

Declan and Flynn exchanged glances but put their guns in holsters.

“Your text.” Ruhn replied. His hands were still holding your face. His eyes were staring in to yours. “You said something was trying to kill you. Then you wouldn’t reply or answer my calls.”

You had forgotten about the stupid texts you sent to him before your phone died. It never even crossed your mind that he would think you were really in trouble. He must have been thinking the worst the whole way to your apartment. He probably thought you were already dead when you stopped responding.

“0h yeah… the texts” you whispered.

“Well what happened?” He was still staring at you intently with his hands holding your face as if he was afraid to let you go. Your eyes wondered across the room to the spider who had made its way to the corner of your ceiling during the commotion. Ruhn’s eyes followed yours landing on the spider with a look of shock on his face. His friends’ eyes soon followed when they realized you were both staring at the same spot on the wall. Shock took over the features quickly followed by a burst of laughter. They were both laughing so hard they could barely breath. They pushed each other out of the room when they saw the angry look Ruhn was giving them.

“Really y/n! A spider? A fucking spider? I thought you were dead!”

“Oops…” you shrugged. “I’m sorry. My phone died and the charger is in the living room. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Ruhn let out a long sigh and rubbed his face with his hand. His features were a mix of relief and annoyance.

“Will you still kill the spider for me? Please?” You batted your eyelashes at the prince.

“Of course I’ll kill the fucking spider for you.”

[possibilistfanfiction]

For a prompt: Butch Bea being soft and tender when Ava needs some extra TLC for whatever reason!

'ughhhhhhh,' you say, as dramatic as possible, while you flop back onto bed. you do your best to flop on top of beatrice, your favorite place, you think with a smirk.

she puts her book down and runs a finger up and down your spine, featherlight, unbothered by your head on her chest and your hips against yours.

'do you feel any better?'

'no,' you groan.

'not even a little?'

'fine,' you say, 'maybe. maybe a little.'

she rests her hand in your hair, playing with the strands softly. you squirm around until you can see her face. she has on her glasses, sage green acetate, mostly round frames, that she'd gotten a few months ago when you had seen her squinting at everything in the distance and pestered her until she went to the optometrist. she came home grumpy and with some trial contacts that had been a fucking saga to get in her eyes the first few times, but she'd gotten the hang of it and wears them out most of the time, but she wears her glasses at home, especially when she's working on her computer. they're fucking adorable and you tell her that, over and over again, because you want her to know but also because the little blush beneath her freckles kills you every time.

'whenever you feel like releasing me, i'll go get you your cold meds.'

'i can't breathe,' you groan. it's not true, but your nose is stuffy and your throat hurts and you have a headache; you'd felt sick the day before but it had gotten worse overnight, and hadn't gotten all that much better with the hot, steamy shower bea had suggested. you tuck your snotty nose into her neck and she just brings her arms around you, unfazed. 'this is so stupid. what good is the halo if it can't heal me from a measly little cold that's ruining my life?'

'i'm sorry you're not feeling better, ava.'

to be fair, you have pretty significant chronic pain and issues with mobility, and it's been a journey — of your own, and with bea — to sort through your feelings around disability, and care, and being cared for. but a cold is easy; everyone gets colds, and beatrice is happy to help you. she's always happy to help you — quiet and competent and so cute, in a cutoff tank and boxers. eventually, you roll off of her and pout, still in a thick robe.

'do you want anything for breakfast? i can make your favorites, or something gentler, if you're not too hungry. i think the meds won't be great on an empty stomach.'

'maybe just some scrambled eggs.' you put your hand on her hip, the v that sits beneath the waistband of her boxers. 'and toast?'

'we have muffins, from the bakery, that i picked up yesterday, if you'd rather that? but i'll make whatever.'

'fuck yeah, muffins.'

she laughs and kisses your forehead, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 'okay. i can bring it up if you'd rather.'

'i'll come down.'

'are you sure? i don't mind.'

'i know,' you say, and you do: beatrice loves you all the time, in the smallest of moments, in the gentlest of ways. she listens, when you want to do things on your own, even on days where your pain is significant and your mobility is extremely limited. when you do ask for her help, she just nods and does whatever you need without any pity, without any anger. with love, with love, with love. 'hey.'

she tugs on some joggers and then runs a hand through her hair, messy from sleep, and your heart swells. she was worth it, you think — dying and saving the world and coming back from hell — she was so worth it. 'hmm?'

'i love you. i love you so much.'

her smile is tender, just for you, sunbathed. 'i love you too.' she takes a few soft steps toward you and kisses you gently.

'i'm gonna get you sick.'

'i don't get sick.'

you roll your eyes. 'well, i'll take care of you in a few days when you do.'

she laughs and kisses you again, then sits on the edge of the bed and pulls purple socks into her feet. when you had first come back to life, you had been blown away by the biggest things: the ocean, the stars. you still are, all the time, but now — the curve of her spine under her shirt, the pull of the strong muscles in her arms, the way she presses her thumbs into her arches before she pulls on each sock — you're blown away by how wonder is stored in the stitching; wonder is stored in the lifelines of her hands that you trace while you get coffee near your house, or the way she lets you clean up her neckline between haircuts, or the champagne you share some nights, just because you're alive, and together, and that's enough. joy is not meant to be a crumb, you remember — and your joy is stitched everywhere with her. your joy is infinite.

beatrice makes you breakfast and you eat it curled on the couch; she brings you cold medicine and it makes you feel high as fuck; you walk into a wall trying to bring your empty plate to the dishwasher. bea just laughs and leads you by the shoulders back to the couch; she brings you a mug of tea and you only manage a few sips before you start to fall asleep, your head in her lap.

a few days later she has the sniffles and the a fever in the middle of the night, and you make her soup and tea and hold her, even when she sneezes all over you.

[three--rings]

Hi, everyone. This is my virtual craft stall for the Fandom Trumps Hate Fan Crafts Bazaar.

How it works: You bid on my offering at the form below, the highest bidder will make their donation directly to the charity and provide me with a receipt. I will then craft your custom item and send it to you.

What I am offering:

One (1) Fanbinding of a fanfic of your choice (see details). That is a typeset, hand made book by me.

IMPORTANT DETAILS:

*The fic you want bound must either be written by yourself or YOU MUST HAVE PERMISSION FROM THE AUTHOR OF THE FIC. I don't feel comfortable exchanging money, even in the form of donations, based on someone else's fanfic work without their permission. You must provide a screenshot of the fic author giving permission or a screenshot of their blanket permission statement if they have one. (You can find a database of creators with blanket permission statements here.)

*The fic must be 200K words or less. Sorry, there's gotta be a cutoff. If the fic you desire is very close to this cutoff, a few words over, it's probably fine, but check with me to be sure.

*If you would rather have a series of fics bound instead of one fic, that's also fine, so long as the entire series is less than 200K words.

*Fic can be any rating, but if it is rated Explicit you must sign the age statement in the bidding form signifying you are over 18. I am open to most types of content out there (and may or may not actually read the fic myself, depending) but am not willing to do any fic containing explicit scenes involving people younger than 16.

*All design decisions will be made by me, though I am open to requests or suggestions and may ask you to help me with motifs or theme suggestions. However, what materials I use depends a lot on what I have access to/can afford and they can be costly to acquire. So I cannot guarantee any particular style of binding or material (like leather, which is hella expensive.)

*How long it takes to complete the book depends on if I need to order special materials for the design. Please allow a month or to for the entire process.

*I will pay for shipping within the United States. If you are outside the US, I am willing to craft for you, but you will be responsible for the shipping costs, which can be significant as books are heavy. Please look into how much it costs to ship a book sized object from the US to you before bidding.

Here are examples of my past work. I'm a hobbyist, not a professional bookbinder and cannot claim to ever produce perfection.

Charity:

The charity I have selected (from the FTH list) is Never Again Action.

Never Again Action is a Jewish-led mobilization against the persecution, detention, and deportation of immigrants in the United States.

We are fighting for a world free of detention and deportation. We are fighting for collective liberation

I considered a few different kinds of organizations but this is one I think is doing really important work and which I feel strongly about. I live in a border region and have known lots of people and families affected by detention and deportation.

How to Bid:

Fill out this Form with your information and your bid.

You can check the status of the bidding here. Bidding closes on March 5th.

[nimenianemone]

"Better in the Morning" by Birdtalker is one of my favorite songs. I definitely think the lyrics correspond to the experience of growing up queer in a bigoted community. It sounds beautiful and emotional, too.

Small bit of lyrics discussion under the cut because I can't find an in-depth lyrics discussion posted anywhere:

First off, sorry for the formatting, I'm on mobile. Anyways.

"Tired and worn from the patterns I've carved

I will do better in the morning"

The song starts off by establishing two things: (1) the subject of the song feels trapped in his current situation, which has been caused by their own actions, and (2) he wants to fix this but doesn't have the energy (at the very least) to do so. The refrain of "I will do better in the morning" is established here and slightly changes meaning throughout the song.

"I'm afraid of who I'd be without you

I will do better in the morning"

There are a few ways this next line could be read. The most likely intention could be that the "you" is probably another person, possibly in a relationship. However, after the first line and in the greater context of the song, another possible reading could be that the "you" talked about here is the narrator of the song referring to himself in the 3rd person. A separation of the life the narrator has built for himself versus who he actually views himself as.

"Twisting up smokes, I'm in control

Til the fire burns out my miniature vacation

But I'm always left with the taste in my mouth

I will do better in the morning"

This section actually had the only bit of lyric interpretation I was able to find online. On Genius.com, user macman3005 writes, “'Twisting up smokes' and 'miniature vacation' reveals the singer has rolled a joint of something (most likely weed) in an effort to alleviate their worries and racing mind and take a trip in their head without actually going anywhere." (Full comment can be found in the link at the bottom of this post). Substance use is a common avoidance tactic and plays further into the refrain. I think there is also something to be said about the double meaning of "taste in my mouth" because, yes, smoke would leave behind a foul taste, but it also is like the idiom of a poor situation leaving behind a bad taste in your mouth.

"I only do what I have done

I will do better in the morning

Afraid of what I might become

I will do better in the morning

Stuck inside a cycle of opinions

Where there's two clear ways

And I always take the easy one

And I'm always left with the taste in my mouth

I will do better in the morning"

This chunk circles back into how the narrator is keeping himself trapped in habit and further emphasizes reasons the leap to change is not made. He is afraid to see his true self rather than the careful construction he has made. He is choosing the easy route (in this interpretation, societal normativity), and this again leads him to have the bad taste in his mouth.

"I learned shame when I was young

I will do better in the morning

Choked libido fucked me up

I will do better in the morning"

Now, THIS verse. Oh man. Right here. Nail in the coffin of me relating to this song too hard. "I learned shame when I was young." Okay yeah, bigoted town, it isn't okay to be who you are because you WILL be bullied by peers, potentially teachers, parents, and other figures of authority. "Choked libido fucked me up" reads as if he is suppressing sexuality, to me. There is the possibility that he was not feeling too HIGH of a libido, and that worried him, but I personally read "choked" as more of a forced cutoff. Then the refrain kicks in, showing that he is still feeling those learned feelings of shame, and he'll try to improve... later.

"Suck me dry you uptight fakers

You stole from me lovemaking

I'm always left with the taste in my mouth

I will do better in the morning"

I can't even. "Blow me, bigots, I haven't gotten laid because of you." But really though, this reads more like closeted sexuality interfering with his love life.

"Behind my eyes a familiar child

I take his hand and he finally smiles"

Ough. FINALLY some self-acceptance here. The narrator is finally looking at himself and not the construct he has made for himself, which is bringing him internal joy.

"Be gentle with yourself as you uncover

Your best kept secrets yet to be discovered

In stillness, boys, clear water to the bottom

You will do better in the morning

I will do better in the morning"

Okay, last verse. The message makes me weep. Be kind to yourself through your journey of self-discovery. I will admit that I am not entirely sure of the meaning for "in stillness, boys, clear water to the bottom." It could be a meditational thing, like a clear body of water being calm so that you can see the bottom, so you should be calm so you can self reflect, perhaps. Then, finally, we have a slight deviation from the refrain. "YOU will do better in the morning" before the usual line. This could again be a separation of the narrator's true self from the outward proposed self, or it could be a call for other community members to share the sentiment of the song.

I love this song. It resonated so fiercely with me and has helped me with my own self acceptance. If you can, please give it a listen.

[cursedjacksepticeyeconfessions]

Confession to make before you possibly delete this blog, 99% of your anons were me. The only one that wasn't was the one who mentioned jack's hips besides them every other ask was from a single anon that just wanted to support this blog, so thanks for the memories I guess. Hope you have a pretty good life.

I am thinking about deleting it but I'm more on the side on leaving this on here as a reminder that this cursed stain of shame even happened.

[laurel-michaela-connor]

I’m having so much anxiety about the amount of stuff I own jfc. I’m moving house on Wednesday and I have several large boxes of stuff to move and a couple pieces of furniture. I’m just so…. Idk paranoid? Self-conscious? About the amount I own. I’ve sorted out 4 bags of clothes and shoes to donate and I’m getting rid of my toaster oven but I still feel like I own too much. There’s some stuff I’ve been meaning to get rid of and that I’m trying to sell but apparently no one wants to buy it lol so I may end up donating that stuff as well.

I’m also planning to turn over the majority of my wardrobe over the rest of this year because most of it I’ve had for at least 3-5 years. I threw out a bunch of clothes that have holes in them that I’ve already mended at least once (but probably more like 2-3 times). I generally don’t feel bad donating or tossing clothes and shoes because I tend to keep my clothes until they can’t be salvaged, or I know I’m not wearing them much and someone else should get better use from them. But right now it’s hard because so much of my wardrobe has sat there unworn during the pandemic and I don’t know if I will wear it again or if I should get rid of it so I end up hanging on to things.

It’s mainly all the stuff that’s the problem. The kitchen stuff, the knickknacks, the books, the makeup. I got rid of so much of it already but the guilt of owning things is somehow still there. I got rid of probably 80% of my makeup and 90% of my medicines and bathroom stuff (almost all expired tbh oops).

I guess I feel self-conscious moving into an apartment with a roommate and knowing she will see how much I own. So many people I know right now own very little because we’re all international students. I want to be able to move around with just a few suitcases and I can’t and I don’t like it. I feel like my possessions are anchoring me and I don’t know if I want to be anchored. My life is in such a state of unrest and uncertainty this year that I kind of feel like I want to be able to pack up and go at a moment’s notice. I’m even regretting owning plants right now- these things that have normally brought me so much joy- because it anchors me even more. The thought of what will happen if I leave Australia and need to sell all my stuff is stressful and i think this move is reminding me of that potential stress. Idk I didn’t think this move would cause so much anxiety for me but it’s all bubbling up today.

[self-hatred-h00die]

Um hi, sorry to bother, but how to you add the “read more” thing to your posts? They make great temp censors so you can add tws to your posts, like you do, and I want to do that with mine just incase someone random comes across one, but I don’t know how. Do you think you could explain how? No pressure though. Thanks

it's super easy don't worry!! assuming you're on mobile, you will type ":readmore:" without the quotations, then click enter! it should change into a specific icon/dotted line to show the cutoff , from there you can move it wherever you need it to cover the text beneath ^-^

on desktop it's even easier, it's the three dots icon on the post editor :P hopefully this helps but if you'd like screenshots or further explanation just ask again and ill explain it another way if i can :D

[lilysundragon]

I am more than happy to answer! I find old fandom stories really interesting so although I wasn't an enstars fan from 2016-2019 when the old Basic Ranking system was around, I did a lot of digging for information. Apologies in advance for the long story.

Unlike the system we have in place now, where we're guaranteed cards at certain thresholds (like in Music, we'll always get the 5* at 3.5million points) back in 2016 you needed to compete with your fellow producers for even just one copy. HappyEle would decide on a "border" that needed to be met in order to obtain the 5* card and this would usually be around 8,500 players. This border would later be extended to 11,500 players but it was still impossibly slim odds to get the 5* you wanted. According to a blog that goes really into detail about how the old Basic Rankings worked (which I will link below if you're curious), with a playerbase of 250,000+ players and growing, about 3.6% of the playerbase would be able to obtain even one copy of the 5*. So you can imagine how hellish ranking for a popular character would be. You would need to essentially outspend any of your fellow KnightsP or ValkP or UndeadP for even the chance of a single copy of your beloved idol.

You can imagine how much money you needed to throw at the event, how much sleep you had to lose to make sure your LP didn't cap (every 3 hours. You had to wake up every three hours in the middle of the night what on earth), and how frustrating it would be to do all that and still not make the cutoff in a particularly brutal event like a Leo center or a Rei center.

Here's some cool data about what it looked like depending on what unit you produced. Source: https://twitter.com/enstars_hell/status/1084536438480240640?lang=en

Just looking at this as a KnightsP makes me want to curl up and cry.

This old system eventually got so bad that it was reworked after a particularly memorable Event (it was the Sakuma's Setsuban cards. Of course it was the Sakumas) and HappyEle changed it so that you were guaranteed at least ONE copy of the event 5* at 5 million points.

The ranking system in its entirety was eventually abolished when Music was introduced and Basic got reworked into what it is now, where all our copies are guaranteed at certain thresholds and "tiering" is more of a bragging rights competition rather than a complete bloodsport.

If you want to learn more about the intricacies of old Basic tiering (and there is a LOT with math that goes way over my head), this blog made an in depth guide from way back in 2016 if you're hunting for more info or if you want to hear OP's first hand account of ranking for Akatsuki events and Marionette Nazuna: https://yankeebanchou.wordpress.com/2016/06/30/mobile-bunny-talks-about-ranking-ensemble-stars/

Sorry for this suuuper long winded explanation lmao. TLDR: Ranking used to be a tooth and nail competition to obtain even just one copy of the event card, where all producers were pitted against each other. Because only a very small percentage of players could obtain a card, it could be really brutal. I'm so happy we never have to experience that!

i love digging through old fandom history. the old 2016 ranking system on enstars basic sounds absolutely insane, i'm so glad they got rid of it

[cuppajj]

Just a newbie reaching out. Are there any moments in transformers that made you really emotional?

SPOILER WARNING FOR SHATTERED GLASS AND MTMTE/LL!!! And the readmore command for mobile doesn’t work so I can’t make a cutoff 😭

3 2 1 Percy

.

.

A little thing about me is that I don’t actually cry or get emotional at everything when it comes to stories (the only things that have really gotten me have all been a few Pixar movies and one video game called RiME that really messed me up), and I can acknowledge an emotional moment but I won’t necessarily get emotional beyond an “oof that’s rough”. For some reason while I’m easy to be super emotional in some places, in others such as TF, it’s more difficult?? It’s a mystery to me right now 😂

That being said, there haven’t been many moments where I got emotional, but there have been some. Particularly three, from IDW:

Rewind’s death in MTMTE #15 was something I’d unfortunately already been spoiled before reading for the first time, and when I finally read it I wasn’t emotional. However, on my second readthrough, it finally tugged at my heartstrings enough for me to feel a twinge in my gut long after I’d put the book down. It was less about feeling bad for Rewind, and more about feeling bad for Chromedome; after so many boyfriends, he was finally on good terms with one! And before he could say he was sorry for what he did with the needles, it was too late… that was a mega ouch.

The other was Rung’s death and the subsequent aftermath in LL #25, which I found both sad and later on angering! The twist he was Primus and made the Matrix was fun, especially with the hints and all, but him giving up his life to make five of them was both heartbreaking and also stupid. Worse yet, after saving the day, everyone in the main cast ended up forgetting who he was, subsequently eliminating all of his relationships and impact on the characters! I’ve only read LL once but that part was hard to read. I felt so bad for Rung already, sacrificing himself to save everyone, but everyone in turn forgetting him was a gut punch that I really felt. The more I look back on it, the more upset than sad I am. That’s not character assassination, that’s character development assassination :(

Starscream’s fate in Shattered Glass also got to me on the first readthrough, and I’d say it was the most emotional out of all three! The whole first series was basically subtle skystar fanfiction and yeah, yeah that ending got me. Jetfire losing a friend due to his own self interest, realizing his mistakes, but getting Starscream killed before he could fully apologize for leaving him was very heavy. I remember reading it, gaping at the pages, then going “wait what?? He’s dead?? What the heck? No god are you serious??” And yeah while I’ve accepted the CDRW tragedy, the skystar one somehow gets sadder the more I read it over. A lot of it is probably to do with Jetfire’s internal dialogue throughout issue 5 which certainly doesn’t help lol 😭

Other than those two, I can’t think of any particular moments where I got emotional. I acknowledged that many parts were sad (such as Bee in TFP’s finale but I kinda knew what would happen), but not to the level where I felt anything physically. I’ve had some close calls though, which range in level of emotion:

Skids at the end of MTMTE

Pipes’s and Trailcutter’s deaths

A lot of what happened in LSOTW

The end of LL

The TFP season 2 finale, which also slapped hard

The Dinoforce members protecting their leader from Star Saber in Victory

Giga and Mega’s arc and subsequent death in Masterforce

[waugh-bao]

I know I’ve mentioned before that your book quotes cut off on mobile for some reason, but today I got the funniest possible cutoff:

I’m laughing way harder at this than I should be

Hahaha. I’m so sorry, I honestly have no idea why it’s doing that (it shows up okay to me, but it might just be b/c I’m the one posting it or a phone thing), but that is hilarious.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

2021 oscars fashion i fucking hate

sorry, mobile users. this isn’t counting dresses i think are Basically Fine but boring, or most dudes, since everyone’s tux looks basically the same.

carey mulligan in oscar gold. i like the color, i like the drama of a big fuckoff skirt. i do not like how stiff it looks- see how it’s draping really weirdly and in giant stiff peaks? i want to see what the underpinnings of this look like, bc what i think this dress needs is a slightly less metallic fabric (to make it less stiff) and multiple petticoats to get it really fluffy and not half-collapsed. the bodice situation is also really hard to pull off- it is not flattering to ms mulligan’s chest, and makes her collarbone/cleavage ratio look long and weird. it looks like her boobs are sitting much lower than they actually are, which is usually not a desired outcome. this dress could be immediately better by not having an exposed midriff- again, the ratio of the waistband to the bodice isn’t good, and the overall ratio of her chest/bodice/midriff/waistband makes her chest look long and her torso look short, which is a weird combo. good color tho

amanda seyfreid- now this is how you do a fucking dress with volume and support the floof!!! she’s got that classic hourglass shape, lovely until again you get to The Fucking Bodice. you either need to commit to shoulders or not. how is this dress being held up. where is the support. the v is just a smidge too deep, making the shape of her breasts look fake, and the fucking ruffles are murdering me. they make her look like her head is just sort of floating away and back. they bonk into her upper arm in a weird way, while i think the color of this dress does not support a harsh cutoff against her skin if you just ripped the ruffles off, put some mesh in there!!! gradate it down from pink to red over her shoulders!!! put some sequins in there idk!!! i hate this as it is!!! how is the bottom of this dress so nice but the top so fucking awful. it’s so jarring.

andra day’s dress has the opposite problem, where the bodice is nice but the skirt fucking sucks. she can wear a regular fucking strapless bra under there, which is great, she has a lot of support from two straps, the smaller one crossing over her chest is a fun detail (it would look weird if it was the same sixe as the other, since it wouldn’t lie as nicely against her neck) and the waist cutout is fantastic. that’s a good fucking ratio there. the crossed strap mirrors the line from the bustline to her hip, it shows off her body in a fun way while still providing a lot of support, and it doesn’t feel like she’s about to fall out of this dress. the fucking skirt though needs to not have a train, because this looks awful. it’s hard to make a dress with a high side slit and also a train bc it bunches up all fucking weird like that. you’re supposed to slink sexily with a high side slit, not stop every two minutes to flick your train back behind you. the skirt also needs to be fuller, bc it looks better to have a peek of your long long leg going for fucking miles instead of just Having Your Leg Out There. halfway there. i like this one more than muligan’s tho bc the basic proportions are right.

hale berry- good bodice that clashes with the rest of the dress. turning the heavily structured and pleated bodice into something that crossed over and tied at one hip would be more flattering than this, which just spits out a giant sad bow at ms berry’s natural waist. this is not flattering for anyone’s body shape. but at least it’s trying something? there were a lot of boring dresses this year, and a lot of dresses that tried to execute on a classic silhouette and failed (see above two)

olivia coleman looks unhappy to be here. the shoes are great. the dress looks like a sack. the raglan line of the sleeves (where they go slanty to the armpit instead of straight across the top of the shoulder) draw attention in a bad way to her bust. the collar AND the belt make her look very constricted, and the sad little pouf of the full sleeves at her cuffs honestly just fucking sucks. that’s just bad design. that looks silly and is going to get in your way all night. it also makes the length of her arms look weird in proportion to the cutoff piece of her torso between the collar and the belt. the skirt is fine. nothing to write home about. 

glenn close is wearing a very uncompromising silhouette that makes her look very boxy and somehow like she has a bit of a paunch? who did this to glenn close. why. also why the pants??? or if pants, not open heels like that bc it cuts off the line of her legs in a bad place and makes her look really stumpy??? the color and the all-over beading make it look dated, when she’s still a working actress nowhere close to retirement. she looks like a mother of the bride- this doesn’t look high-end or custom enough to wear to the fucking oscars. this is just fucking weird. i am so sorry for what they did to you ms close

in a similar vein, why would you fucking do this to rita moreno. the heavy necklace is doing interesting things texturewise and balancewise, but draws undue attention to the stupid little bodice flap. that just looks bad. this is weirdly tailored, which they have tried to cover up with her very good coat worn off-the-shoulders, bc it’s pulling a weird way diagonally and under her bust as she moves. the fucking ruffles at the hem cut her off in a bad place like not quite mid-shin? and they’re straight across?? she’s already short!! she doesn’t need to look shorter!!!

these are apparently mr & mrs oscar. not even a tux. you wear a fucking tie to the oscars. you ignore a waistcoat.

the dress, again with the fucking collar/belt combo!!! bad!!! if you don’t have cleavage that’s fine go wear a fun dress from the twenties when cleavage was out of fashion!!! don’t wear something that balloons out into a false paunch right above your natural waist you look terrible!! fire whoever dressed you!!! ad the color is almost exactly the color of her skin, the dress is so plain and there’s no texture or interest and all of this just fucking sucks

if you’re going to be filthy rich you can afford to look good!!! what is HAPPENING this year!!!

[jessefadenfbc]

Let’s talk Control lore!

Okay, maybe not direct lore, but Jesse’s backstory. Recently I revisited a song from Cami-Cat, called “Alone”, and I realized how similar it is to what Jesse’s felt throughout her journey. This is gonna be a long post, and I can’t do the “keep reading” cutoff on mobile so I’m sorry!!

“I searched so long so that I could find you

Even though the world had left me nothing in return

Still I prayed for a way

To see you again”

I feel like this part would be Jesse singing this when Dylan’s in his coma. I imagine her standing outside of his holding cell, barely touching the glass and crying ever so slightly.

“The years go on, aimlessly I wander

Hoping for a sign of something that could lead me home

And I prayed for a way

To find what was mine”

I’d imagine this was a time before Jesse found the FBC, having wandering the States, trying to find her brother.

“Can you hear me?

I'm crying out for you

Can you hear me?

What else is there I can do?”

This one, I feel like she’s reaching out to Polaris. It’s mentioned that at times, Jesse would purposely cut Polaris out, but other times, Polaris would just… be silent. She’d try reaching out to Polaris, in a desperate attempt to get her friend back.

“I don't want to be

Out there lost along the breeze

I don't want to be

Alone”

Again, I imagine Jesse breaking down, crying for Polaris to come back. She’s truly alone.

“This life's not fair, not when I can't have you

Please hold me again, and tell me that you'll never go

Please don't leave

Don't leave me...”

This one I feel like it could be about both Polaris and Dylan. Jesse doesn’t want Polaris to leave her, and she also wants to have Dylan by her side.

“Can you hear me?

I'm crying out for you

Can you hear me?

What else is there I can do?

I don't want to be

Out there lost along the breeze

I don't want to be

Alone”

Just like the other small paragraphs I wrote, I feel like this is about Polaris once more. Jesse is lonely, afraid, fidgety without Polaris and Dylan. She’s completely alone in this world without them both.

Sorry for such a long post but aaaaa, this song got me thinking!

[ryqoshay]

How to Handle a Nico - Dinner at the Nishikino’s

Primary Pairing: NicoMaki Words: ~4.1k Rating: K Time Frame: Late in Maki’s 1st year and Nico’s 3rd year in college. Story Arc: Stand Alone

Author’s Note: This chapter was assembled from a patchwork of about a dozen instances I wanted to include and thus wrote each separately. And somewhere along the lines, MS Word decided not to sync between my PC and mobile devices, so I ended up with two, slightly differently edited versions. Thus, here’s hoping my self-purported prowess with prose was successful in stitching this scene into a sensible structure. Please forgive any unsightly seams.

Nico couldn’t remember the last time she had been this nervous. No, wait, just a few days ago, her first date with Maki. Well, first official date, not counting all of the not-actually-date-but-technically-were-dates from years prior. Unfortunately, that was quickly falling into second place as she approached the gate to the Nishikino home.

Perhaps the date had been easier because she knew Maki, knew Maki liked her, knew Maki liked spending time with her, knew Maki wanted to date her, and was fairly confident Maki was attracted to her. She had known all of these things even before they started dating officially. As such, looking back, she wasn’t sure why she had been so nervous for their first date, because with the exception of one little hiccup named Etsuko, it had all gone splendidly.

But the parental Nishikinos were more of an unknown. Nico had met both of Maki’s parents a handful of times throughout the years, but had never really gotten to know either. She was all but certain she would have little problems with Maki’s mother as she had apparently been talking behind the scenes with her mother about her and Maki’s developing relationship. And she had been quite supportive of Maki’s time as a school idol, so Nico didn’t think she would object to her intended career choice.

Maki’s father on the other hand… Nico remembered quite vividly when he almost made Maki quit being a school idol after her grades slipped the tiniest of bits; not even enough for her to drop from her position as top of her class. Umi had been the one to stand up to him, which made sense insofar as she understood having parents with high expectations. Still, looking back, Nico couldn’t help feeling a bit of regret that she hadn’t been the one to protect Maki. Sure, she had offered her support, but…

“Good evening, Yazawa-san.” A voice came over the speaker.

Nico jumped. Had she even pushed the button to announce her presence?

“Yes, good evening.” She replied as she recognized the voice of the Nishikino estate manager.

“Ojou-sama has informed me of pending arrival, though as always, you are most welcome here.”

“Thanks.” Nico replied as the buzzer sounded to indicate the gate was unlocked.

One gate down, literally. Nico thought as she made her way toward the front door. Though part of her wished Maki had been the one to answer the intercom, she was nonetheless thankful that it had been a member of the house staff with whom she got along well. At least it hadn’t been…

“D-Dr. Nishikino?” Nico sputtered as the door suddenly swung open to reveal a towering, bespectacled man who immediately fixed her with a cool and calculating gaze.

Damn. Why had she stuttered? This wasn’t the first time she had met Maki’s father, and if all went well tonight, it wouldn’t be the last. You can do this Nico! Sure it wasn’t the man she expected and she was caught a bit unaware, but… Gah! Stop being intimidated. You’re here for a reason! And that reason is Maki-chan!

“Yazawa-san.” Maki’s father stated flatly.

“Hi…” Nico cutoff by clearing her throat. “Good evening.” She corrected, offering a polite bow. “I’m…”

“I’m afraid my daughter will be unable to entertain your visit tonight.” Dr. Nishikino interrupted. “We are expecting an important guest who should be arriving presently.”

I’m an important guest? No, wait, of course I am! I’m Maki’s girlfriend now. So, buck up and tell him that.

“Yes, sir, that guest is me.” For emphasis, Nico indicated the stylish dress she had picked out specifically for the occasion. “I’m Maki’s date.”

“…” Dr. Nishikino raised an eyebrow but remained steadfast in his position.

“Nico-chan!” the voice of an angelic savior came from behind the barrier of the paternal Nishikino. “Papa, let her in.”

Dr. Nishikino stepped aside and…

Holy… Nico had to make a conscious effort to avoid letting her jaw hit the floor. Not that Nico, at any point, had forgotten that Maki was beautiful, but when the redhead went all out, it was all she could do not to stare. Though elegantly modest, the deep purple dress still managed to highlight Maki’s best features.

“You’re early.” Maki said, bringing Nico back to reality.

“I’m sorry, did I take you away from your precious piano?” Nico couldn’t help teasing a bit, figuring the younger girl had wanted to arrive at her parents’ home earlier for a few moments of nostalgia with the instrument she grew up playing.

“Yeah, actually.” Maki admitted as she glanced away sheepishly.

“Well maybe after dinner, you can continue your concert, but with an audience?” Nico pointed herself as if it wasn’t already obvious who she meant.

“I’d like that.”

“You look lovely, by the way. Purple always looks good on you, Maki-chan.”

“Thanks.” Maki replied as pink dusted her cheeks. “You look good too. I like when you leave your hair down. It makes you look more…” She trailed off.

“More?”

“Sorry, I meant…”

“More mature?” Nico completed what she believed to be her girlfriend’s thought.

“Uhm… yeah…”

“I’ll have you know Nico is always mature.” She squared her shoulders and placed her hands on her hips pridefully.

Maki raised an eyebrow in a way that left no question as to her linage.

“Anyway, I haven’t seen that dress before, is it new?”

Maki nodded. “Mama and I just got back a little while ago from picking it out.”

Huh… Mama and I were also just out shopping for my dress. Nico thought to herself. And, wait a minute… “We match.” Or at least they matched in the way their old idol costumes matched in overall theme and enough details to be an obvious set while maintaining enough individuality to be unique as well.

“We do?” Maki glanced down at herself before back at Nico. After half a second, she smiled. “Yeah, we do. What a nice coincidence.”

Nico found herself wondering if the coincidence was perchance planned by a pair of meddling mothers who meant well. She made a mental note to ask her mother about the issue later, if for no other reason than to thank her for the cute gesture.

“So, dinner isn’t for a little while yet” Maki continued “but they might have appetizers ready already so why don’t we head to the dining room and I’ll quick check?”

“Lead the way.” Nico decided not to bring up how she still got lost in the huge house, even after visiting frequently over the last few years.

“You coming, Papa?”

Nico realized she had all but forgotten the paternal Nishikino was still there. Stealing a quick side glance, she found him quietly observing the couple. If she was reading things correctly, his aura had warmed somewhat, though was no less calculating than before; gears were obviously grinding behind his stoic expression.

“Your mother and I will meet you at the table.” Dr. Nishikino stated. “I’ll go find her.”

As Maki took her hand to lead her through the house, Nico noticed her grip was tighter than normal. A lot tighter. Maki was more nervous than she was letting on. Just how worried was she about her father’s approval of their relationship? Nico already knew Maki’s mother was wholly supportive, as was her own, but the only things she really knew about Maki’s father were that he had high expectations for his daughter and was not particularly fond of idols.

“Wait, Maki-chan,” Nico said, stopping in the hallway before they reached their destination “hold up a moment.”

“Eh?” Maki uttered, not seeming to notice the change and almost yanking Nico’s arm out of the socket before being held to a halt. “Nico-chan?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“Maki.” Nico fixed her girlfriend with a steady stare. The redhead returned the gaze, though was far more furtive, and when she began to fidget with her hair, Nico reached out and gently touched her hand. “What’s wrong?” She repeated.

Maki released a puff of air. “I’m nervous, alright? I… I just really want Papa to like you.”

“I’m nervous too.” Nico admitted, her thoughts racing through things she could say to calm them both down. “But you know, he didn’t turn me away at the door, so that’s gotta count for something, right?” She paused for a moment. “Well, technically, he did, but that was before he realized why I was here, but he still let me in, so that has to mean he’s willing to give me a chance, right?”

“I just… I know he’ll bring up idols, and…”

“Maki-chan.” Nico took a step in to close some of the distance between them. “Nico didn’t become the No. 1 Idol in the Universe without learning a thing or two about reading her audience.”

“…” Maki’s expression wasn’t one of disbelief but of continued concern.

“Look, I’m not going to lie to your father about my career of choice, but I’m also not going to try to convert him into a fan or convince him that idols are the most amazing thing ever, even if I believe that myself.”

“I know…”

“And I am attending college and aim to get a degree.” Nico continued. “Sure it won’t be a fancy medical degree like yours, but I’m getting it while still being an idol. So that’s also gotta count for something, right?”

“Papa does respect hard work.”

“And Nico is a hard worker.”

“I know.” Maki affirmed, dropping her hand before leaning her head into Nico’s hand. “Nico-chan is one of the hardest workers I know when it comes to working toward her goals. It’s always admired, and envied, about you.”

Nico scoffed. “You say that as if you don’t work hard as well, Maki-chan.”

“Mmm…” Maki hummed in a tone that implied she was paying attention to something other than the conversation at hand.

Hand… Maki closed her eyes and nuzzled her cheek against Nico’s hand, causing her to open her fingers to increase contact. It should be fine here, right? Nico moved in the rest of the way and tilted her chin up. Maki followed her hand as Nico guided her down. Their lips touched and…

“Oh dear…” A startled voice uttered, causing the couple to jolt away from each other. “I’m terribly sorry to interrupt, Ojou-sama.”

“I-It’s f-fine…” A blushing Maki stumbled through.

Nico recognized the woman one of the newer members of the Nishikino house staff. She was responsible for general assistance wherever needed.

“Welcome, Yazawa-san.” The woman said with a polite bow, but when she righted herself, her expression was thoughtful. “Although, now that you’re dating Ojou-sama, perhaps Yazawa-sama is more appropriate?”

“Just Nico is fine.” Nico assured.

“Right, anyway, I’m on my away to retrieve some bottles of Cloudy Bay at the behest of the master.”

“White?” Maki inquired.

The woman nodded. “We’ve prepared a delightful shrimp pasta for the main course.” She turned to Nico. “Ojou-sama has informed us of your talent in the kitchen, so we hope to meet your standards, Yazawa-sama.”

Guess the new title is going to stick. Nico thought to herself. “I’m sure it will be great.”

“The caprese salads should be ready if you wish to head to the dining room now.”

“Tomatoes, of course.” Nico couldn’t help commenting.

“Yes.” The staff member confirmed. “We have also been informed of one of your preferences, so for dessert, we will be serving traditional crepes with lemon and sugar.”

“Sounds delicious.”

The woman smiled before bowing again to excuse herself and hurrying down the hall.

“Is there anything wrong with your father requesting white wine?” Nico asked, trying to gauge her girlfriend’s reaction.

“I don’t believe so.” Maki shook her head. “White is better paired with seafood, after all.”

“Yes, but…?”

“No, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” Maki shook her head again. “Cloudy Bay is actually one of Papa’s favorites. He’s quite fond of the New Zealand area in general.”

“One of his favorites? That’s gotta be a good sign, right?”

“I hope so.”

Nico took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then released it slowly. “Well, the salad is apparently ready, so we may as well get to it.”

Maki nodded before taking Nico’s hand once more to complete their journey to the dining room. Nico noted, thankfully, that her girlfriend’s grip was far more relaxed this time around.

Upon arrival, the couple was greeted by the Nishikino estate manager who showed them to their seats. Shortly thereafter, Maki’s parents arrived and took their own seats. Next the chef and her assistant from before arrived with the first course. Finally, the first bottle of wine was uncorked and the meal was underway.

“So, Yazawa-san,” Dr. Nishikino stated, drawing Nico’s attention “you’ve known Maki since high school, am I correct?”

“Yes.” Nico affirmed. “It was Maki-chan’s first year and my third.”

“I see. And were you one of the girls who helped convince her to become an idol?”

Well, that didn’t take long for the subject to come up. Nico thought to herself. Straight to the point, I guess, unlike a certain dishonest daughter of his…

“Actually, it was the other way around.” Nico replied.

“Oh?”

“I was in a disillusioned and jaded state back then, after my first attempt at forming a group fell through.” Nico admitted. “And it was Honoka and Maki-chan and the others that pulled me out of my funk and helped me remember why I adored idols so much and wanted so desperately to be one.” She couldn’t help smiling as fond memories flooded her mind. “I really do owe them all a debt of gratitude for that.”

“I see. And you are still an idol now?”

“Part time.” Nico nodded. “I was able to find a small production company that was willing to work around my classes. It fills up my schedule and keeps me busy, but also lets me keep my foot in the door.”

“Because you intend to go full time even once you’ve earned a degree?”

Nico wasn’t particularly fond of the wording of the question and had to resist the urge to call it out; had it been Maki and they were in a more casual setting, she likely would have done so.

“I do.” She said aloud instead. “And once I retire from being an idol, the degree will help me find other employment.”

“And what type of employment might that be?”

“Something still in the industry, if possible.” Out of the corner of her eye, Nico caught a suppressed expression of surprise on her girlfriend’s face. Understandable, as it was news to Maki as well. “Choreographer, trainer, costume design, heck maybe even a producer, someday. Basically, I’d like to pay forward my debt by helping the next generations of idols.”

“And one is able to earn a living in such an industry?”

“Others have before me; I believe I can as well.” Nico gave another glance to the redhead beside her. “I may not have the skills to become a life-saving doctor like Maki, but I can still do my part to make the world a better place; one smile at a time.”

“Medicine, law, business, engineering,” Maki’s mother suddenly spoke up “these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.” She smiled at Nico. “I believe Mr. Keating’s words hold true for many things. Music, painting, writing, really the arts as a whole are what make life worth living.”

“Mr. Keating?” Nico inquired.

“The lead character of Dead Poets Society.” Maki responded. “We should watch it sometime, Nico-chan; it’s really good.”

“And it is because the arts are so important” Dr. Nishikino continued “that my husband and I strive to support them as much as possible. In fact, we will be attending a performance of The Barber of Seville late next month and have not even started sending out invites to fill our box. You two are more than welcome to join us.”

At this, Maki’s eyes lit up. “Next month? When?”

“I’ll message you the dates later, but it’s a weekend so you should be able to work it into your study schedule.”

Maki turned to Nico with an expression rivaling the one she wore when December started. “Do you want to come with me?”

Nico smiled at her girlfriend’s excitement and word choice. “I’d love to. But where have I heard that title before?”

“From my playlist.”

“Tchaikovsky?” Nico made sure to pronounce the name as correctly as she could.

Maki shook her head. “Rossini.”

Nico racked her memory. “Cinderella?”

“Yes, different opera, same composer.”

“One smile at a time, you said?” Maki’s father suddenly stated.

“Oh, yeah.” Nico recalled her words from a few minutes ago.

The barest hint of something tugged at the edges of Dr. Nishikino’s lips. “Well, if nothing else, you have succeeded in making my daughter smile.” He nodded toward Maki, directing Nico’s attention back to the mentioned reaction. “And as my wife and I can attest, that is not always the easiest of tasks.”

“… P-Papa…” Maki offered a mild protest as pink dusted her cheeks and her mother chuckled.

Nico couldn’t help a smile of her own as she turned back to Maki’s father. “I think I’m up to the challenge.”

“Indeed.”

Wait… wasn’t this a bit hypocritical? Nico suddenly thought. Why claim to be a patron of the arts while simultaneously disallowing one’s daughter from being an artist?

On occasion, Maki had bemoaned being railroaded into the medical career while her dreams of being a professional pianist were dismissed as a passing fancy. Yet she hadn’t acknowledged the contradiction. Was she even aware of it? With the level of reverence Maki held for her parents, Nico could easily imagine her remaining oblivious; well, that and Maki’s overall naivete in many aspects of life.

Should she tell her? Was it even Nico’s place say such a thing? Nico was no stranger to speaking her mind when it came to her own interests, or those of her siblings. And she was dating Maki now, which meant defending her girlfriend’s best interests also shouldn’t surprise anyone. Or at least what she believed to be Maki’s best interests, as her parents obviously felt differently.

“On a related topic, Yazawa-san, Maki has told us much about your shared love of music.” Dr. Nishikino continued.

Nico derailed her own train of thought and refocused her attention on the conversation at hand. “It is one of our favorite subjects to discuss… or argue over.”

“And you often listen together while studying.”

“I believe music helps keep us in a good mood, which then helps us study.” Nico explained.

“I think we can all attest to the positive effects of music.” The Nishikino matriarch said.

“Indeed.” Her husband agreed.

“And Maki-chan has helped expand my appreciation of other genres of music.” Nico turned to her girlfriend. “And I’d like to think I’ve expanded hers as well.”

Maki nodded an affirmation with a smile.

“Maki also has told us that she often helps you study.”

“She does.” Nico confirmed. “Maki is incredibly smart. Even if she doesn’t know the answer to a problem, she is often able to logic things through and help guide me in the right direction. Honestly, if I didn’t already know she was going to be a doctor, I’d’ve suggested she become a teacher.”

“Now that would be an interesting career choice.” Maki’s mother said thoughtfully.

“Hrm…” Her father seemed less than convinced. “So, do you help her study in return?”

“Well…” Nico started.

“Nico-chan helps in other ways, Papa.” Maki offered. “Even if she isn’t able to help me with a given topic, she helps ensure I take regular breaks so I can come back with better focus. She makes sure I’m hydrated and helps track my nutrition and is quite insistent on keeping a decent sleep schedule. Honestly, she’s better at taking care of me than I am.” Her eyes widened as her admission registered in her mind.

“That’s right,” Her mother continued with the thoughtfulness from earlier, though Nico was sure she detected some teasing undertones “wasn’t it Nico that saved Maki from herself back on her birthday?”

“Mama…” Maki was losing a battle in trying to keep down another blush.

“Maki is very diligent in her studies.” Nico stated. “And I’m happy to help where I can.”

“Hmm… sounds like another couple we know, right Dear?” Dr. Nishikino sent a sly smile toward her husband, the teasing more obvious now.

“… Perhaps.” Maki’s father conceded.

Was it Nico’s imagination or did she just catch another glimpse into the source of some of Maki’s behavior? The Nishikino patriarch wasn’t the easiest to read behind his stoic mask, but his daughter wasn’t always straightforward with her emotions either and Nico had figured her out fairly well by this point.

As far as Nico was concerned, the rest of dinner went quite smoothly. Once Maki’s father got past his initial questions, he remained mostly quite. It ended up being Nico and Maki’s mother carrying the bulk of the conversations, which honestly didn’t really surprise Nico all that much. Maki’s mother inquired about Nico’s family, though Nico suspected she already knew most of the things anyway and it was more for Maki’s father’s sake. Still, Nico wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to brag about her amazing siblings and about how proud of them she was in taking care of the household and themselves in her absence.

After dinner, Maki’s parents excused themselves to finish up the day’s emails and paperwork. Nico couldn’t help but wonder if that would be something Maki would end up doing once she became more involved with the hospital administrative duties.

As for Nico herself, she joined Maki in the Nishikino music room for the previously promised private concert. There, she had happily settled into the best seat in the house, next her girlfriend on the bench. All in all, it was a wonderful conclusion to what she believed to be a wonderful night. However, as confident as she was, she still wanted to be sure, so she made a mental note to ask the one she believed would know best, or at least better than herself.

“So, how did I do?” Nico asked, once she was sure they were well beyond earshot of anyone even remotely associated with the Nishikino residence.

“You were perfect, Nico-chan.” Maki responded with a smile that sent a warm feeling through Nico’s chest. “I think Papa likes you and is fine with us dating, and we already know how Mama feels.”

Thank the gods… Nico thought with relief. And with that load off her mind, “Of course I was perfect,” she decided to get in some teasing of her own, after spending the evening watching Dr. Nishikino do so “Nico is always perfect.” She grinned and held up her signature gesture.

“Id…” Maki’s typical retort was interrupted by a yawn.

Nico laughed before continuing the tradition. “You love it.”

“… Maybe…” Maki managed to get out as her energy seemed to be leaving her rapidly.

Nico leaned her shoulder into her girlfriend. “Steady there, Maki-chan, you going to be alright getting back to your dormroom?”

“Eh? But, I thought…”

“You thought…?”

“I thought I was going to your place?”

“Well you can, obviously you’re always welcome, but…” Nico motioned to Maki’s outfit, taking the moment to enjoy the view as well “I figured since you don’t have a change of clothes, you wouldn’t want to put this back on in the morning.”

“It’s fine…” Maki stifled another yawn. “I just want to go home…” She blinked and shook her head. “I mean your home… Yours… yours and Nozomi’s, I mean… ueeehhh…”

Nico chuckled. “It’s your home too, Maki-chan.” By the gods did she want to kiss the redhead whose cheeks were now matching her hair, but even this late at night, there was a risk of being seen. Later. She promised herself. “Nozomi and my names may be on the lease,” she said instead “but that doesn’t make it any less home to you or Eli.”

“T-thank you…”

“You don’t have to thank me for that; that much is normal for couples, right? But you know, Eli does leave a lot of stuff in Nozomi’s room…” Nico thought aloud “perhaps I should clear out a drawer and make some room in the closet for you.”

“I’d like that.” Maki smiled. “I’ll be sure to bring some stuff over soon.”

“Good. For tonight, you can borrow your usual sleep shirt and we’ll figure out something else in the morning. I think the outfit I lent you the other day is clean, but if not, maybe Nozomi has something that will fit you.”

Maki nodded.

“Then it’s settled.” Nico took Maki’s hand as they boarded the train together. “Let’s go home.”

Author’s Note Continued in Followup Post

[pug-bitch]

That’s not why I’m staying (2)

Never have I ever punched someone

Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2

Pairing: Drake Walker x Amara Suarez

Rating: some foul language, some extremely suggestive. This is absolutely NOT appropriate for people under 18.

Word count: about 4,500 (sorry I am on mobile, so no cutoff :/)

Notes: This picks up pretty much where we left off, during the night at the bar in Ramsford, right after Liv joined. It starts with Maxwell’s POV.

*****

‘Hey guys,’ a familiar voice says behind them.

Maxwell turns around. ‘Rashad! You made it!’ He says as he wraps him in a tight hug.

Rashad chuckles. ‘Yeah, Liv said it was important. Hi guys,’ he waves at Hana and Michael.

‘Oh, where are my manners?’ Maxwell exclaims. ‘Rashad, I’m not sure you’ve met Michael Hansen-Suarez, Amara’s brother-in-law. Michael, this is Rashad Domvallier!’

The two men shake hands and exchange pleasantries until Drake, Amara and Liv arrive, multiple drinks in hand, which they distribute to everyone.

‘Cheers guys!’ Maxwell says excitedly, before taking a huge sip of his margarita. Amara’s right, he thinks. No way he’s driving them back. Oh well, it won’t be the first time his car sleeps downtown.

‘This is a big gulp,’ Michael says playfully, as if he’d been reading his mind. ‘You sure you’re still our DD?’

Maxwell nudges him with his elbow and whispers, ‘Shhh, don’t rat me out!’

Michael chuckles. Maxwell is so happy to see him relaxed, finally. Plus, the emerald green was a good call.

‘You having fun?’ He asks.

Michael nods. ‘It’s really nice here, yeah. I could get used to this.’

Maxwell smiles. ‘Good. You should get used to having fun. Maybe later this week we can organize a real Beaumont Bash, to show you how it’s done!’

‘Oh God,’ Michael exclaims, ‘will I have to wear a sash?’

Maxwell laughs. ‘Only if you want to.’

‘Anyone wanna play pool?’ Rashad asks.

Drake and Michael nod enthusiastically, while the girls playfully roll their eyes. ‘We just got here!’ Olivia yelps.

Maxwell shrugs. ‘Oh well. It super gendered I guess, but I could go for a game of pool right now.’

‘Alright boys, don’t start any trouble with your good looks,’ Amara teases, already sounding a little drunk.

*****

The three women sit in awkward silence for a couple minutes before Amara breaks the ice. ‘Ladies, if we don’t start talking right now I’m gonna go crazy. Liv, I said I’m sorry, I made you hug me, please let it be ok between us now.’

Olivia rolls her eyes. ‘We’re fine, Suarez, I told you.’

‘Then why is it so fucking awkward?’

‘She’s right, Olivia,’ Hana responds after gulping down about half of her drink. ‘If something’s bothering you, you should talk about it. Come on.’

Liv raises an eyebrow. ‘Wow, Lee. I like you assertive. Maybe you’re not such a weak bitch after all.’

‘Olivia!’ Amara scolds her. ‘Hana is just as strong a bitch as yourself, so shut it.’

Liv pauses and bursts out laughing. ‘Alright, you sexy bitches, you want me to tell you what’s bothering me?’ They both nod frantically. ‘I’m not nearly drunk enough for it,’ she concludes.

‘Ugh,’ Amara sighs. ‘Drink up, then!’ She looks around to check who’s within earshot before continuing. ‘In the meantime, can we please talk about how hot Rashad looks in a leather jacket? You go, girl.’

Olivia pauses and chugs the rest of her drink. She gets up and leaves silently. Amara and Hana look at each other, puzzled.

‘You think I offended her...again?’ Amara asks hesitantly.

Hana shrugs. ‘Please. It wasn’t offensive, on the contrary! It wasn’t the first time you guys comment on the hotness of each other’s partners,’ she remarks.

Amara nods and quietly sips her drink, her head hanging. Why couldn’t she ever shut up?

A minute later, Olivia comes back with a tray of drinks. Two double vodka rocks for her, and four margaritas for the girls. Amara gasps. ‘What did you do?? And, most importantly, how did you get the bartender to serve you so quickly?’

Olivia laughs and gestures at her body. ‘Are you really asking? I’m a fucking knockout, Suarez. You should know how it’s done, with those tits on you, I’m sure you’ve used your wiles before.’

Hana giggles and chants, ‘Liv is getting druuuunk!’

Olivia laughs. ‘Lee, you’re already drunker than me. Alright, here we go,’ she says before chugging one of the double vodkas.

Amara’s eyes are as big as saucers. ‘Is it that bad? What you have to tell us?’

Olivia puts her glass down and gestures at Amara to drink faster. ‘No, in the grand scheme of things, it’s not bad. But for me, it is.’ She pauses for a long time. ‘Rashad and I boned.’

Hana gasped. ‘OMG, congratulations!’ And she whispers in a conspiratory tone: ‘he’s so hot!’

Olivia, serious as ever, looks at Amara, ‘Does she know she’s supposed to be gay?’

Amara smiles. ‘She’s gay, not dead, it’s a whole thing. Please continue.’

Olivia grunts. ‘Alright. Well, Lee, you’re right, he’s very hot. Even more so naked. An ass like you’ve never seen, and a dick, holy shit.’ She looks away in the distance before shaking it off. ‘I digress, sorry. What I mean is, despite his perfection, and him doing everything I like, it was… well, it was good. Not great.’

Amara nods. ‘You mean he didn’t sweep you off your feet?’

‘Yeah, something like that,’ Liv says as she grabs her next drink.

Hana nods. ‘It’s normal for a first time, I think. Plus, you guys waited a little while, so there were expectations. You gotta give it time.’

Amara chimes in, ‘Exactly, and maybe it’s like Carrie and Berger on Sex and the City, maybe the first time wasn’t ideal, and you two need to work on it a little more.’

Liv looks her dead in the eye. ‘Are you comparing Rashad to whiny-ass Berger, Suarez? Also, his name is Berger. Have some respect.’

Amara smiles. ‘That’s not what I meant. I was just trying to find an example.’

Hana nods. ‘Sometimes, when you really like the person, the first time is awkward because you’re so anxious to get it right, that you get in your own head. And before you protest, I didn’t say you. I meant maybe Rashad was in his own head.’

Olivia stares at her glass silently. She sighs and pursues: ‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should just fuck him again. Pull a Suarez and bone him in this filthy bathroom.’

Amara grunts. ‘Come on, now you’re labeling me as the bathroom fucker? That’s not fair!’

*****

Michael walks towards the group of guys with a tray of drinks for everyone. Getting the second round was the least he could do, after they welcomed him so warmly. He didn’t really want to play pool, he’s just not good at it, and he doesn’t find it particularly fun. But he wanted to hang out with them, be one of the guys. He’s never been the most social person. He has friends, of course, albeit not many, but ever since he had Callie, he’s thrived as a father so much that he barely needs anything else.

Tonight, he finds himself missing his daughter, as always, but not in a sad way. In a way that makes him grateful to be a dad, all the while being happy to be here. With Amara, with new friends. With Amara’s new love, whom he’s grateful to get to know.

So, if he has to suffer through a few games of pool, so be it. With a couple more beers, he shall be drunk anyways.

‘Thanks, Mike,’ Drake says as he grabs a lager from the tray. ‘Next round is on Max. Right?’

Maxwell laughs as he aims for the balls. ‘Of course! My treat.’ He misses all of them, shrugs, and grabs a margarita from the tray. ‘Thank you, Michael. Rashad, your turn.’

Michael leans back against the wall and enjoys the atmosphere. He glances outside where the girls are enjoying their drinks. He notices a guy getting closer to them, then talk to them, while Amara is visibly trying to turn him down. Michael raises an eyebrow. He turns to Drake. ‘I’ll be right back.’

He exits the bar area to meet the girls on the patio. Something about this guy’s demeanor isn’t right. He stays at a distance as he listens to the interaction.

‘Come on, babe,’ the guy says to Amara. ‘Don’t tell me that you and your friends don’t want a drink from a guy like me.’ He opens his arms as if to display his body. ‘I’m no Prince, but I’m definitely capable of rocking your world. How about you, sweetheart?’ he asks Olivia.

Liv snorts noisily and responds, ‘My friend already told you we’re not interested, so fuck off, will you?’

The man laughs sarcastically and says, ‘Right, right, like you have such high standards.’

Olivia gets up menacingly and says, ‘Excuse me, asshole? What is that supposed to mean?’

Michael notices that both Amara and Hana get up also, their brows furrowed.

The guy spits out in an insulting tone, ‘I know you girls. You’re just a dyke and two whores, don’t pretend you’re anything more.’

Before anyone else can react, Michael’s blood boils and next thing he knows, he’s marching towards the man, putting his beer down, and connecting his fist to the guy’s face. He says, ‘What the fuck did you call my sister?’

The guy, taken aback, shakes his head. ‘What the hell--’ he says before he recovers and raises his fist to return the blow.

Amara leaps in front of Michael and places the guy in a strangle hold before anyone can react. The man yelps helplessly.

Michael’s head spins. It’s the first time he’s ever punched anyone. Suddenly, Drake is besides him. ‘Mike, buddy, are you ok?’

Michael shakes his head. ‘This asshole was insulting them, I--’

Drake turns to the guy, still held up by Amara. ‘What did you say to them?’

He struggles to breathe, and painfully says, ‘I was just--I was just trying to buy them a drink.’

Amara rolls her eyes and lets him go. He rubs his arm sheepishly. ‘He insulted the three of us because we refused to have a drink with him. Typical entitled dick.’

The guy mumbles, ‘Fuck you guys, I’m getting out of here. Bunch of assholes and whores.’

Drake places himself right in front of him, and he clearly towers over the guy. ‘What did you just say? Did you just call them whores? What’s your problem, man? You wanna get punched again?’

Olivia gets closer to Drake and pulls a dagger out of her jacket. ‘Or stabbed?’ she says. Michael gasps.

The guy runs off, still mumbling. Olivia puts the dagger away, as Michael is still reeling. He sits down. This is a lot to take in. His first sucker punch, a concealed weapon, and a whole bunch of dramatic confrontations. Not his typical Sunday at all.

The bartender comes out, closely followed by Rashad and Maxwell. ‘Sir,’ the bartender says to Michael, ‘you can’t stay here, we don’t tolerate violence in this establishment. As for you, Lady Nevrakis,’ he says to Olivia, ‘you can’t bring weapons here, please.’

Olivia rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her drink.

Maxwell grabs the bartender’s arm. ‘Loïc, please, they didn’t do this unprovoked. You know me, I wouldn’t bring troublemakers here.’

Loïc frowns and looks at Amara. ‘Oh, like this lady who likes to pull judo moves on people?’

Maxwell continues to barter: ‘This guy was bothering them, right Amara?’

Amara nods. ‘This douche called us whores, as well as derogatory homophobic terms. Do you welcome that in your establishment?’

Michael holds his breath as Loïc seems to take in the info. Finally, he rolls his eyes. ‘Fine. But Maxwell, next time, you’re all out. I mean it.’

As the bartender walks away, Michael takes a long, relieved breath. Amara sits by him. ‘Are you ok, Michael?’ she asks, looking at his hand.

He nods. ‘It doesn’t even hurt. I’m just in shock. Did I just punch a guy, or did I dream it?’

Drake laughs. ‘You definitely jammed your fist in his face, man. He deserved it, too.’

Hana squeezes Michael’s shoulder. ‘You’re our knight in shining armor,’ she jokes.

He turns to her, ‘I’m sorry for the name he called you. That was unacceptable.’

She shrugs. ‘It was. But you can’t change the fact that there are some terrible people on this Earth. All you can do, I guess, is…’ she pauses. ‘Punch them.’

Everyone laughs wholeheartedly. Michael takes a long sip of his beer and asks, ‘Can we talk about Olivia’s dagger, please?’

*****

‘Your Majesty?’

Constantine sighs, as if out of habit. He wishes he could get up, at least to seem like he’s doing alright, but his body is too weak. So, he calls out. ‘Come on in, Lady Madeleine.’

She walks in briskly, closing the door behind her. He specifically asked her to come by right after dinner, but it’s over an hour past, and he needs to get himself to bed. He tries to hide his annoyance and gestures for her to sit down.

‘Thank you,’ she says as she complies. ‘I won’t keep you long. I’m making progress.’

He nods. That’s all he wanted to hear. His country in good hands after he passes. That’s all he wanted. ‘Good, I’m glad,’ he says, hoping she will stop there and leave him alone. This could have been a phone call.

She nods. ‘Me too. He seems to have forgotten all about the incidents of the Ball, and I intend to help him forget some more.’

Constantine grimaces. He doesn’t need to know her methods, thank you very much. ‘Anything else?’ He asks impatiently.

Madeleine takes a breath. ‘Yes, potentially. He’s been talking to his brother a lot. He’s pensive after each of their talks. Last night, and then again this morning, and before dinner. I’ll keep an eye on it, but I thought you could ask your staff to do the same.’

Constantine nods. ‘Alright. It could just be that they’re speculating about who leaked the pictures, Lady Madeleine, nothing more. But you’re right. I will keep an eye out.’

‘Great,’ she says curtly as she gets up. ‘Enjoy your night.’

*****

Madeleine heads towards Liam’s suite. She finds herself hoping he won’t be as passive as last night. She shakes it off quickly. Who cares if he’s not enjoying himself? It’s not exactly a party for her either, but she will truly be happy when the crown is on her head.

He’ll learn to love her. If not passionately, like he would have the others like Olivia or the Mexican whore, at least he will love her respectfully, like a King loves his Queen. She doesn’t care if he fucks around. Perhaps she will, too.

But for now, she needs to keep Constantine happy. He wants the other women out of the picture, he doesn’t trust them. She gets it. She doesn’t trust them either.

She rattles her fingers on Liam’s door and waits for the weak signal to come in.

She plasters on a smile. ‘Good evening, love. I was heading to the gardens for a late night drink, do you want to join?’

Liam, already deep in a whiskey bottle, looks at his glass, chugs it, and gets up. ‘Sure,’ he says.

*****

‘Alright, alright! Rashad’s turn!’ Maxwell exclaims.

Rashad nods pensively. ‘Let’s see. Never have I ever… shaved my legs!’

Amara yelps, ‘That’s not fair! It’s clearly a twisted way to get us drunk!’

Rashad chuckles. ‘Yeah, you guys, and Maxwell,’ as he gestures towards Max taking a sip.

‘What?’ Maxwell asks. ‘I wanted to try it when I went through my bicycling phase!’

‘Ok, ok, my turn!’ Hana almost screams, leading Amara to think she’s had more than enough margaritas. ‘Never have I ever…’ she smirks at Michael’s direction. ‘...punched someone!’

Michael bursts out laughing as Drake pats his back. ‘Time to drink, buddy. I’ll accompany you, for obvious reasons,’ he says as he drinks.

‘Well played, Hana,’ Michael chuckles.

Hana mimes brushing off her own shoulders. ‘I try, I try. Amara, all you!’

Amara thinks for a second, trying to determine who she’s going to target. ‘Hmm, let’s see… Never have I ever had a child!’

Michael sighs. ‘Really, Amara? You know I’m a lightweight.’ He drinks reluctantly. ‘Ok now, my turn. Never have I ever…’ he smiles at Amara. ‘Thrown up in a parking garage.’

Amara gasps. ‘No fair! I told you this in confidence.’ She drinks. ‘Besides, it’s not my fault. I was sick.’

Michael fakes a cough. ‘Hungover sick.’

Amara rolls her eyes. ‘Fine, fine, since you’re determined to make me look disgusting.’

Maxwell puts his arm around her. ‘You could never be disgusting, Little Blossom, you’re the cutest! Even though, you know, you just had a guy almost choke in a badass move, I’m still allowed to call you cute.’

‘Alright, that’s my cue to go get another drink, you guys are too sappy for me,’ Liv says as she sighs deeply. ‘Rashad, help me carry the next round?’

Rashad follows suit, and Amara shares a knowing look with Hana. When the two are back inside, Hana asks, ‘Do you think they’ll be back?’

Amara chuckles. ‘I think if we’re expecting another round of drinks, we’re in for a big disappointment.’

*****

‘Feeling better?’ Rashad asks as Olivia is paying for the next round. He offered to pay but she looked at him with such a furious look that he put his hands up in a surrender pose.

Liv shrugs. ‘Yeah. Glad she’s back to her senses, and she apologized.’

Rashad smiles. ‘Good. Now can you tell me what else is bothering you?’

Olivia turns around briskly. ‘How do you know something’s bothering me?’

Rashad looks around for any wandering eyes and, when he realizes the coast is clear, puts a reassuring hand on Liv’s arm. ‘Because I’m starting to know your moods, Nevrakis. Now please tell me.’

She looks down at his hand. For one second, he wonders whether she’s about to tear him apart limb by limb for daring to touch her tenderly.

But she doesn’t. She looks into his eyes and says, ‘Did you really love last night?’

He gulps. He really did. It was amazing sex. But it was also somewhat awkward, and definitely not what he had been expecting from their extremely steamy makeout sessions. ‘You didn’t, right?’ He asks cautiously.

She whispers, ‘Don’t get me wrong, it was fucking good. But…’

He nods. ‘Yeah. I know. The anticipation was better.’

‘Right.’ She pauses. ‘Suarez thinks it’s just the curse of the first time.’

He nods. He should be mad that she already told her friend that he sucks in bed, but he figures, coming from Olivia, the fact that she talks about him at all is a compliment. ‘You think we should try again?’ He says, raising an eyebrow.

She nods. ‘Yeah. Let’s drop off those drinks and go fuck in the bathroom.’

He laughs heartily. ‘Um, as much as I’d love to, that’s a lot of pressure on a bathroom hookup. It might turn out to be even more awkward than the first time. Think hand dryers, weird smells, wet sink…’

‘Ew,’ she interrupts. ‘No need to get graphic, I get it.’

He gets closer to her and whispers in her ear. ‘I don’t want us to plan anything. Let’s just wait until we can’t help but fuck each other’s brains out.’

She gives him a mischievous smile and grabs a tray. ‘Well played, Domvallier. You got me wet already.’

*****

Liam zips up his pants, in silence. He looks around at the maze. Well, he thinks, there goes his maze fetish. She ruined it.

Madeleine gestures for him to help her zip up her dress. He complies. ‘That was...something,’ she whispers seductively. She looks at him over her shoulder. ‘Did you have fun?’ She purrs.

He plasters on his fake smile. ‘Of course I did, love. It was wonderful. Now let’s go back to the palace, you wore me out. I need to get some sleep.’

She seems satisfied enough with his answer. She locks arms with him and they walk on together.

Liam’s thoughts are racing, over his silence. How could he have thought she was genuine? How could he have believed her concern? All she ever wanted was to be Queen, he knows this, he’s always known this.

What he didn’t know is that she was willing to destroy others in order to get what she wants.

For now, he can’t break the engagement. But he will, right? He and Drake and Leo will find out who was in on the whole thing and Amara’s name will be cleared. Madeleine’s name will be the one with scandal associated to it. The woman who sabotaged everyone else for the throne. All they need is proof. Amara’s a detective, she can help figure it out.

His heart sinks. Amara.

She made it clear. She doesn’t have an interest in him. But maybe things will change, once she has a duchy and citizenship, and they can become friends first.

Right?

Something’s gotta give. He can’t be stuck in a loveless marriage.

*****

Madeleine runs her hand through her hair. She can’t arrive at the Palace all disheveled, although it would make for a nice statement. Sure, she’s not the first woman Liam fucked in the maze, but she’s the first fiancée he shags out there.

She didn’t hate the sex. He’s good at it. Still, this is a means to an end.

*****

‘Oh God, I shouldn’t have had that fifth beer,’ Michael slurs as Drake holds him up after the Uber ride.

Drake chuckles. ‘You’re good, I got you. Just put one foot in front of the other.’ He glances at Amara. ‘You ok, babe? Still standing?’

She gets out of the Uber and thanks the driver, a little wobbly on her feet. ‘I’m good,’ she laughs.

Hana stumbles out as well, giggly as ever. ‘Guys, I had the best night,’ she yells out.

Drake helps Michael up the steps, where Rashad, Liv and Maxwell are waiting for them.

‘Wooo you made it,’ Maxwell cheers. He holds out his arm for Michael to grab it. ‘Here, Michael,’ he says softly. ‘Let’s get you some water.’

Michael blushes. ‘Sorry everyone. I guess I’m still jetlagged.’

Olivia snorts. ‘Or maybe we wiped the floor with you at Never Have I Ever.’

Michael shakes his head. ‘I still think ‘Never have I ever been a lawyer’ was unfair.’

Maxwell opens the door delicately, so as not to wake Bertrand. He whispers, ‘Rashad, thank you so much for driving my car back. I owe you one. You can stay over if you want, Liv has a room here!’

Rashad nods. ‘Thank you Max, but I have an early meeting. I need some sleep.’ He looks into Liv’s eyes and captures her lips in a deep kiss.

Drake’s eyes widen. He looks at Amara, who’s pretending to fan herself. When Rashad’s mouth finally leaves Olivia’s, everyone else’s is still wide open.

‘Bye, Domvallier,’ Liv says in a low voice.

He winks at her and waves at everyone else. ‘Good night guys, it was fun.’ He takes out his phone and calls his driver.

Drake takes Amara’s hand and they go inside. ‘Wow,’ he says, ‘that was some PDA.’

Olivia snorts. ‘Ugh, of course you’d say that, Walker. Clearly, you have no idea what we’ve all been through with you. All your makeout sessions with Suarez, they aren’t PDA?’ She walks upstairs in the direction of her room and turns around midway, just to rolls her eyes at Drake one last time.’

He sighs. ‘Fine. I’ll shut up. I’m gonna turn in anyways. Babe?’

Amara squeezes his hand. ‘Yeah. I’m exhausted. Michael, you need me hun?’

Michael takes a deep breath, and uses the hand that isn’t holding Maxwell to hold the wall as well. ‘I’m fine, I just need water. Go to sleep.’

Maxwell shoos them with his hand. ‘You crazy bitches go to bed. I’m gonna water the kids,’ he says as he gestures to giggly Hana and wobbly Michael.

*****

‘Hana, hold still, OMG.’ Maxwell whispers, trying to help her out of her heels. ‘If we wake Bertrand he will kill me.’

Hana laughs softly. ‘Grandpa Tassel! I love his face so much.’

Maxwell can’t help but smile. ‘I do too, but if I see him burst out of his room, his lovely face furious at me, I swear to God, woman, I’m abandoning you to his wrath.’

Hana feigns shock. ‘Oh! You wouldn’t dare!’

Max blows her a kiss. ‘You have no idea what I’m capable of.’

Michael giggles, sipping on his glass of water. ‘Guys, I’m so drunk,’ he slurs.

Maxwell smiles softly. ‘It’s ok. Drink your water. I need to do the same, I’m fine but I’ve had a lot of margs.’

‘I swear Maxwell,’ he continues, ‘I never get this drunk. You have to believe me.’ He takes Maxwell’s hand. ‘It’s the jetlag, and that game.’

Maxwell looks at Michael’s hand, a pang in his heart. He puts his other hand on it, and carefully places it back on Michael’s lap, patting it gently. ‘It’s all ok, Michael. You can also blame the shirt.’

Michael makes a shocked face. ‘The shirt! It was infused with your party spirit, Maxwell. That’s it!’

Maxwell chuckles. ‘Yes, you got me.’ He finally manages to get Hana out of her shoes. ‘Hana, drink your water. I’m gonna go get you guys some of Drake’s leftovers. Be right back.’

‘Oh, I’ll come help,’ Michael whispers, getting back on his feet with difficulty. ‘Plus, I want to make sure you also bring some of those cookies we got at the farmers market.’

Michael stumbles a bit, and finds Maxwell’s arm. They walk to the kitchen together.

‘You ok?’ Maxwell asks, his heart racing.

Michael smiles faintly. ‘Yes. I’m embarrassed. I told you, I never get drunk. It’s embarrassing.’ He puts his hand on his face.

‘No!’ Maxwell protests. ‘Nothing embarrassing about having fun. You’re safe here, you can let go a little.’

Michael nods and, once in the kitchen, lets go of Max’s arm to hold on to the island. ‘You’re always so nice to me, Max. Thank you. You’re a good person.’ He pauses. ‘You don’t treat me like a pathetic widower.’

Maxwell grabs the pack of cookies and a tupperware of leftovers. ‘Michael, you’re so much more than a widower. And you’re not pathetic. You’re strong, smart, and loving. Look how far you’ve come just to reconcile with Amara.’

Michael sits at the island. Without a word, Maxwell brings him a cookie. Michael breaks it in half and offers him some. They both take a bite. Michael sighs. ‘I feel so much better,’ he says.

Maxwell smiles. ‘The power of the cookie, my friend.’

*****

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[sigritandtheelves]

For the 5 headcanon AUs - Emily is there with Scully & Mulder (delivery room? home? whatever) when Scully gives birth to Miracle Baby #3.

This came out in one long brain-dump last night, but I thought I should read over it in the morning with a clear head before posting (it was, surprisingly, kind of fine?). I’ve really wanted to try and write Emily, which I have never done. Not to cross universes, but I think @o6666666‘s little Emily might grow up to be something like this big-kid Em, though I can’t promise this story is as good as hers. In this universe, baby 3 is born around 2006 (because … human anatomy and logic). CW for birth stuff (obvs.).

—

1.

They have made this thing work, this family thing. They are even good at it, most of the time, but Scully is so tired these days. Emily, twelve and turning more beautiful by the day, helps them all by getting William ready in the mornings. She wears raspberry lip smackers and purple eyeshadow that Scully only smiles at as she packs their lunches. At the kitchen table, William rocks in his seat until Em lets him pour his own milk. “Careful,” she says, and the little boy nods.

Mulder slides behind his partner (his wife, his first best girl) while she’s chopping up carrot sticks to kiss her neck. He palms her round belly and whispers, “How about today?”

Scully reaches back with her socked foot to wrap it around his ankle. Her deft fingers still the knife, and she leans her head to his shoulder. “Sorry,” she says. “No action yet.”

He makes a disappointed grunt and moves to pour himself some coffee. When the lunches are bagged, he grabs his briefcase and calls out. “Offspring! To the dad-mobile!” And Scully laughs (still laughs after all these years) at his stupid stupid jokes.

2.

In the evening, after dinner, Emily tiptoes into her parents’ bedroom to find her mother curled on her side and reading. Her eyes focus low, on the carpet, on her own feet, and Scully notices. “Hey,” she says. “What’s up?” She scoots back and pats the bed.

Emily sits. She fidgets, fingers in the blanket. Her blonde hair hangs down over her face. After a moment, she breathes deep, sucking in courage. “What if it’s a girl?” She asks.

Scully frowns, grasping to parse the subtext. “Then we’ll have two girls.” Matter of fact is best, she thinks. “You don’t want a sister?”

The wind outside rattles the window: an autumn storm blowing in. Emily shrugs one shoulder. “She’d be yours. And dad’s. Really yours.”

Scully’s eyes fall closed as Em’s meaning washes over her. She sits up, pulls the girl to her—all gangly arms and legs in a cutoff Foo Fighters t-shirt and Chucks. She is growing out of hugs like this, but not tonight. “Emily, you are really ours. You are completely and totally ours, mine and dad’s. The how doesn’t matter to that part of it.”

Against her shoulder, Emily sobs. “But you didn’t know me when I was born. It’s not the same.”

Scully rubs her back. “No,” she says. “It’s not. It’s different. It’s special.” Another choked sob like yeah right, and Scully can only squeeze her daughter tight. “Em, you brought us together. You made us a family.” Fingers over silky hair, knobby knees raised up onto the bedspread, resting against a rounded belly. “Without you,” she says, “dad would probably be out hunting werewolves, too afraid to even kiss me.”

Em pulls back to look at her, smiling now, but confused. “What do you mean?”

Scully shakes her head. “Without you, it might have taken us years, but you made me… made us… everything changed when we brought you home. Good change. Happy change.” She raises a palm to the girl’s cheek, red with tears. “You will always be our girl.”

3.

When she tells Mulder that night in the calm dark of their bedroom, he is shocked quiet. Rain hammers their windows while they curl facing each other in the blue gloom. “Oh God,” he says. “Poor Em.”

Scully nods, her cold toes pressed into the hair of his calves. “I want her to be there when the baby comes,” she says. “I want her to be part of it.”

“Yeah,” Mulder says. He tugs her to wrap around him while he shifts to his back—her own warm body pillow, heavy belly propped on his waist. He touches it, feels the little bumps and shakes under his fingers. “Oh, Dana,” he sighs. “We’re about to be outnumbered, aren’t we?”

She laughs and kisses the warm cotton of his shirt under her cheek.

4.

The dad-mobile is stalled the next morning by the onslaught of heavy contractions just before seven. “Mulder,” Scully says, and by the way she says it, he knows. They’re ready. They have time. He tells himself these things, but still he sits in low-level panic, waiting for Maggie to come so he can drop the kids at school.

“Mulder, I’ll be fine. You can take them.”

But he shakes his head and holds onto her hips like they are keeping him steady, grounding him here in this moment when they are still just four in the house. Scully sighs and raises her own hands to hook behind his neck. Her blue eyes shine up at him, and she gives him a resigned, affectionate smile. “You’re too good, you know that?”

He shakes his head and kisses her through another contraction, rubbing rubbing at her hips. When it passes, she says “thank you,” and rests her head on his chest. He notices Emily watching them, not with the mild disgust of the pre-teen as he expected, but with a fascinated curiosity. She blushes and turns away when she sees that he’s noticed.

When Maggie comes, he takes only William to school, leaving the three Scully women at home. “Be back soon,” he says. He sees that Emily is holding her mother’s hand and he knows they’ve made the right decision, letting her stay.

5.

They are at the hospital by four p.m., Mulder and Scully and Emily, who checks on her mother regularly and gives her sips of vitamin water. It’s Emily who comes to find Mulder in the hall when things pick up. “Dad,” she says, because he’s had to make some quick phone calls. “Dad, her water broke. She needs you.” He hangs up quickly and follows his daughter in.

Scully won’t listen to the nurses, surprising no one, as she kneels on all-fours on the bed. Mulder rubs her back while she groans through the pain and the pushing. Emily watches them both in awe. She cries, as they do, when the tiny pinking body is lifted to her mother’s arms.

“Oh, you did it,” Mulder says, pushing hair back from Scully’s face. “Oh, baby, look,” because the little face is screaming itself known from a flannel blanket. He helps Scully turn, carefully, to rest on her back. They all peer down at the squirming child, who opens its eyes and shoots a fist out from the covering.

The nurses want to cut the cord, but she holds them back. “Delayed is better,” she says. “Em, come see.”

The girl does, leaning over this new tiny thing with such awe. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

Scully tugs away the blanket. “A girl,” she says and smiles at her other daughter. “Do you want to cut the cord?”

Em looks surprised, glances at Mulder. “Dad?”

“Nah, I got the last one.”

So she does it and feels so proud, feels like this is her little sister, feels the whole weight and duration and strength of her family. She tells Maggie and William everything when they come to see.

“Another girl?” William asks, trying not to seem disappointed. But he is fascinated by the tiny hands and feet.

When the baby sleeps and Dana sleeps and Maggie is readying to take the kids home, Mulder pulls Emily aside. He squeezes her shoulder, then hugs her. “You’re my first baby,” he says. “And I love you so much.”

She nods. She tries not to cry. “Thanks, daddy.”