#please take this as a completely neutral statement because it’s intended as one

[femmeholograms]

*

[ushidoux]

Power Struggle - Ushijima x Reader

Summary: You’re set up on a blind date with a man who might just be your match.  (~5.1k words)

Warnings: fem pronouns, fem!reader, blind date, exhibitionism, public sex

A/N: Part of @cherrytenko​’s CEO collab! Surprisingly this is possibly the longest fic I’ve written as a oneshot and it’s a little softer than I expected it to be but please enjoy!

---

It’s about half past 6pm when you add the final touch to your makeup, a smear of matte lipstick (Rouge Hermes #48, to be exact), to your lips.

It’s not often that you’re able to leave work early but your mother and father had called you from overseas in the late afternoon, interrupting their own third honeymoon, to remind you of your final meeting for the day - 

A date.

“I know you hate these things, but just go! You might like what you see,” your mother insisted over video chat, her voice muffled by the sound of wind whipping past her as she and your father cruised along on a shaky speedboat they’d purchased just for the day. You weren’t completely sure where they were, only vaguely aware that they were somewhere around Jeju Island, and not exactly sure why they still had phone service, but you weren’t going to ask too many questions.

“No obligation!” Your father adds, just out of view and yelling slightly. 

Sure, never any obligations.

As you smack your lips in the mirror to smooth out the lip color, giving yourself a brief once-over to decide whether or not you feel the need to adjust your hair or if you will wear falsies or not, you frown ever so slightly, then let out a sigh.

You hate this. 

This is the third “meeting” they’ve arranged for you this month, and they’d been at this for almost six months overall by now. This search for a ‘suitable husband’ was getting stale -  not to mention, time-consuming - and you weren’t sure you would be willing to appease your parents any longer.

In fact, you weren’t exactly sure you were interested in a partner anymore. The clock would hit thirty any moment now, and the math of falling in love, getting married, having kids, and still heading a successful company no longer seemed to be adding up. You didn’t know how exactly to tell your sweet parents who were the picture of domestic bliss that they’d probably have to give up on the idea of grandchildren, and consider raising puppies instead.

Regardless, for the time being, you could still bother to meet this stranger for dinner.

There’s a clasp seal envelope atop your dresser - a portfolio that had been left on your desk by your father’s assistant at the beginning of the week - that still seems entirely too formal for the process. This is matchmaking, not a job application, was the first thought that came to mind once you realized the envelope held a set of photos, a resume and an admittedly curt but formally written statement reminiscent of a cover letter.

Ushijima Wakatoshi, the signature at the bottom of the letter read in an extremely neat script. He must be particularly organized and detail-oriented.

There were two pictures, one that looked almost like a passport photo and the other much more relaxed, where he was dressed casually in a t-shirt and pressed jeans, standing with his arms crossed beside a redheaded man whose smile was wide and infectious, his arm around his neck. You wondered if he picked those photos himself. 

You’d perused the first photo much more carefully because you could see more of his face. He’s quite handsome, you’d admitted, the faintest warmth in your cheeks, but he seemed awfully uptight. For one, the look on his face was very neutral, not bothering to smile. He was clean shaven and his hair was close cropped at the edges, a woody brown that paired well with serious olive eyes. You wondered if he ever laughed out loud, and what he looked like when he did.

The taxi driver is prompt and waiting outside of the high-rise in which you live by the time you make your way down the elevator. The click of your heels is loud on the tile as you make your way past the revolving doors. As you slip into the back of the car, you wonder if you’re dressed too professionally. You may have forgone the women’s pantsuit, but you’re still wearing a feminine pantsuit-esque ensemble in a creamy beige - pink would have seemed too ditzy, white would have seemed a bit too innocent (not to mention risky) and yellow too juvenile.

You’re not sure why you’re thinking so hard about this, but really years of paying attention to your appearance in public, not being taken seriously because you’re pretty and young and your personality is more bubbly than bossy puts you on your guard, especially when it comes to first impressions.

The location appears to be an upscale sushi restaurant, the type that you have to call ahead for months to get a reservation unless you have some kind of special arrangement with the owner. A staff member checks you in and brings you to the back to a private room, and as you pass through the dimly lit hallway, clutching your purse a little too securely, a scene from a yakuza movie comes to mind.

“Your room, madam,” the young man nods and motions you to enter a room that is brightly lit enough that it is almost blinding, large and round as though you were in a fishbowl yourself. You look up and notice that even the ceiling is curved. Elaborate paintings hang off the wall. 

He’s not here.

You glance at the attendant and he raises his eyebrows as though he is expecting you to say something. You must look surprised, and continue to look so as you remove your shoes to sit at one of the thin mattresses set before the low table.

You wish you’d worn stockings perhaps, tucking your bare feet beneath you in a casual seiza position. You can’t recall the last time you’ve been this traditional/formal, and the thought of a man you barely know already knowing what your feet look like bare bothers you just a bit. 

The attendant pours water and then tea for two wordlessly and slips out of the room. 

Your heart pounds once you’re finally alone. Why is this so intense? 

You fidget nervously with the thin silver necklace you are wearing, looking for a menu. There is none so far. Just square plates, both chopsticks and forks (odd for sushi, you think), and a steaming cup of tea set right next to a sweltering crystal glass of ice cold water. Opposites.

For a fleeting moment, you actually wonder for once if this man will like you. 

“My apologies, Ms. ___.”

You’re startled by a rich voice, a tiny gasp revealing that you’re more spooked than you realize, and your eyes shift towards the direction of the sound to see what looks like your date finally arriving in a hurry. 

You instinctively readjust yourself onto your knees to look formal, then realize you should probably stand instead, but before you can get up he waves you to sit back down, now settling down himself across from you.

“I had intended to arrive early but quite a few things happened at the company to make that unfeasible.”

He said this while removing a suit jacket in a way that was in no way intended to be sexy, not at all, then let out what sounded like a single, semi-nervous chuckle. 

Wordlessly, you replied with a nod, transfixed as you compared photography to reality. The photos didn’t do him justice, not at all. The suit jacket was picked up quickly by a waiter who you had forgotten was still in the room.

Ushijima extended an arm to you across the table, intending to shake your hand.

“Did you wait long?” He asks as you shakily take his hand for a handshake that consumes your hand almost entirely in his large one.

You shake your head, then embarrassed when you realize you aren’t using your voice, and add, “No, I didn’t wait long...”

“Are you hungry?” He replies, quickly. Your instinct is to say no, no you didn’t need anything, especially not from him, but you are pretty sure your stomach would growl loudly any minute now, and you’d only look like a fool. 

Ushijima glances at the waiter, who finally hands the two of you menus.

“Please order anything you like.”

You look down, swallowing hard again, and for a moment it is difficult to focus on the unnecessarily elaborate handwriting on the menu.

Something about him already grates on your nerves and you couldn’t exactly pinpoint what. You could forgive people for being late, and you were used to people being a little forward, but something about the way he was both familiar and unfamiliar in the way he spoke to you seemed to veer into patronizing behavior. 

Why wasn’t he nervous? Every man you’d sat across from in the past half a year had just a little waver in their voice when they spoke to you at some point, even those who had started off boasting their fancy degrees and their villas and their large bank accounts. 

But he sits perfectly still, all broad shoulders, gently wafting cologne, and a gaze that is both disconcerting and impartial, so you don’t know what to think. 

When you look up from the menu to him, his eyes are still heavily focused on you, and you can’t really fault him. There’s nothing else to look at in this room, after all.

You take this opportunity to tease him. No man has ever intimidated you before and this one is no different.

“Are you going to order anything? I barely saw you look at the menu.” Your voice is light and coquettish and it implies, all you’re doing is staring at me.

“I already know my order. I’ve been here enough times,” he replies, immune to the playfulness in your voice. You watch him roll up his sleeves as he answers, and take note of the shape of his hands as he takes a sip of tea.

Maybe you’re the one staring.

“Would you like a recommendation?” He offers as he sets the cup down. 

You shake your head no, and wonder again why you’re making gestures instead of talking. He smiles as though he can read your mind.

Once the waiter takes your orders and leaves the room, you’re left in silence, facing your would-be partner. It’s a stalemate of sorts and you lose, asking the first personal question.

But you ask it semi-clinically, refusing to lose the upper hand. You’re not sure why there’s an upper hand, but there is, and it will be yours.

“I read a little about your company before arriving. You gave me quite a few details, which I appreciated,” you state, turning your head to the side politely to take a sip of tea yourself. “You’ve done very well for yourself as CEO,” you add.

His eyes don’t crinkle from the flattery. “My employees do great work at all levels so it’s only natural that there would be positive growth,” he replies matter-of-factly.

You smile politely, but this answer doesn’t give you very much information about him. He’s shifting the success away from him, you remark, however he accepts the compliment as though expected. Is this genuine humility or arrogance?

You lean very slightly forward, just enough to see if he’ll take the opportunity to glance down your blouse, as other suitors have invariably done. He doesn’t, and you proceed to ask the next question.

“What do you do outside of work?”

His eyebrows raise, and you wonder if it’s because he realizes you are pretending you didn’t read that section on his application, but he answers anyway.

“I don’t have very much free time, as you are probably aware, but I garden and paint. And of course, I like to keep fit through team sports.”

A quick look at him makes that last part quite clear. You clear your throat slightly and then it is silent again. It’s not exactly an uncomfortable silence, but it’s not comfortable either.

Just as you wonder why he isn’t asking you any questions, he suddenly speaks up.

“Pardon me if this sounds inappropriate, but you’re beautiful. Why would you need a matchmaking service?”

You’re taken aback, and while your brain is scrambling for understanding of what his intentions are, he adjusts his sitting position so that he’s cross-legged with both hands on his knees and lets out a sigh before continuing.

“You’re also accomplished and clearly articulate. I don’t imagine you’d have trouble finding a partner through more organic means.”

It seems like there are a million butterflies that suddenly inhabit the small space in the pit of your stomach. Again, you’re at a loss for words, something that is rare for someone as opinionated and cordially fierce as you.

Should you be offended? It’s almost as though he’s asking what’s wrong with you?

He asks frankly, “Why a blind date?”

You want to ask him the same question, but you hear the waiter return and you fall silent, letting the butterflies in your stomach die down.

---

“I-is this the first time - ah - you’ve done this?”

You’re no longer laid out on the tatami like you were just an hour earlier, Ushijima nibbling on your lower lip and your collarbones instead of the overpriced, high-quality fish that sat atop your table, but now laid under him, spread eagle save for the hands you use to hold on to his shoulders as he slowly and deliberately thrusts inside you. 

Your voice is breathy and catches in your throat every time he moves, but you have to know. How often has he ended up like this?

The heat that fills your whole body now isn’t just from the shame of letting a stranger fondle your body in an upscale restaurant, it’s because Ushijima somehow knows exactly where and how to touch you, as though he’s always known. His fingers have traveled your body like a hiker on a well-beaten path, from the softness behind your earlobes to your squishy center and back, and now have settled into a hold that is firm yet gentle on your hips. 

When he replies “no” with immense honesty, his mouth sinks into the crook of your neck and he goes just deep enough that you don’t have time to factor this new information into your impression of him.

So instead you savor the thickness that fills you and the strength that holds you close, the soft grunts that fill your ears before they get drowned out by your equally loud whimpers and moans.

---

You don’t spend the night, partially out of shame that Ushijima bedded you so quickly and partially because you have a full schedule for the next morning. The parting of ways is brief and awkward and you seem to feel it more acutely than he does.

“I enjoyed our time, Miss ___,” he offers. You’ve dressed up faster than he has so you find yourself unwittingly ogling at the expanse of his sculpted chest and the flex of his muscles as he redresses. You’re almost sad to see him cover up.

You nod and walk out of the room, trying your best to hide the fact that your legs feel far too wobbly to be walking on these heels.

---

“Miss ____?”

Your eyes widen as you realize you’ve been daydreaming through a meeting with the board of trustees and now the wrinkled old men who hated the fact that your father thrust you into leadership you “didn’t deserve” are staring at you with disgruntled expressions.

“Oh, um,” you think quickly, recalling where the presentation left off and glancing quickly at the notes you’d jotted down on a notepad before wondering why Ushijima hadn’t called or texted since you met two weeks ago.

“Um?” The most senior of the group repeats, and your stomach turns for a moment before you steel yourself. He bares his teeth every time he’s displeased with you and you get the impression of an ancient and disgruntled wolf. 

You clear your throat loudly, and settle back in your chair, crossing your legs and your arms over your chest.

“I have some disagreements with the current approach, but I’ll start with the pertinent positives,” you start.

---

“Was the sex at least good?”

Your best friend from high school glances at you briefly, as you face forward on the Peloton you are riding side by side with her. She’s much less out of shape than you are given that she also is your personal trainer and thus rides hers effortlessly, taking some time to wait for you to respond.

You begrudgingly say yes.

“Wow, for once someone dropped you before you could drop them!” She teases in a sing-song voice. You would slap her on the shoulder if she was close enough and if you weren’t out of breath. It stings just a little bit that you’ve heard nothing from him nor the matchmaking company and don’t have a good response to tell your parents aside from I guess we didn’t click.

“He’s missing out, though.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you huff, and cycle faster. No hard feelings.

---

Scratch that, there were absolutely going to be hard feelings now that he was not just fucking with you but also with your livelihood.

Admittedly, it was strange that despite the fact that your companies had never crossed paths until now despite working in the same consumer domain but this was unacceptable.

You’d opened an email that had just slipped into your peripheral vision as you worked on reviewing a couple of interns’ executive summaries, only to find that Ushijima might have just royally fucked you over.

A curt email from a crucial business partner read,

We apologize but we’ve decided to move forward with Ushijima Industries instead. I understand that this is last minute, but we believe that it will be mutually beneficial to discontinue our relationship at this point in time.

Your blood boiled. What the fuck was this?

Your phone rang, one of your team leaders calling immediately and likely looking at the email at the same time you were. He apologized profusely.

“What happened?”

“It seems like they just showed up and offered twice as much as we offered them last minute.”

This bastard. Then in a moment of horror, you wondered if this was your fault, if you had blabbed a little while slightly tipsy off of sake, and revealed that you had this acquisition in the works.

Voice smaller now, you asked, “So we can’t do anything to woo them back?”

“No, I don’t think so. I just have to make sure our other deal doesn’t fall through,” the slightly frantic man answered, the sounds of keyboard keys clicking rapidly heard in the background of the call. 

“Okay, thank you for your hard work,” you stated. “I’ll see what I can do,” you replied with a click. 

Maybe calling someone who’d ghosted you as you drove home, fuming and irritated, wasn’t the best idea, but you needed to confront him somehow. The idea of being bested in more ways than one was too much to bear.

The phone rang once, twice, then three times, and you were getting angrier with every tone through the car speaker. You hung up in frustration.

How embarrassing.

You made it home still irritated, indulging yourself in a relaxing bath to quell your anger. By the time you had soaked for close to an hour, you were mad at yourself for reacting impulsively and now having your number in his phone as a missed call… if he recognized it anyway.

It turns out he did.

“Ms. ___, did you call me earlier? I wasn’t able to make it to the phone in time.”

His voice was even lower on the phone, a slightly gravelly quality making you wonder if he’d actually been napping or just had a smoke. You couldn’t imagine him doing either of these things.

“What kind of game are you playing, Mr. Ushijima?”

There was a bit of hesitation on the phone, and you let out a sardonic laugh once he replied, as expected, “What?”

“How did you know about that deal other than what I told you?”

He paused again, and you too, stood still, a towel wrapped around your still dripping body.

“I assure you, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he then said, carefully. “I, uh… assume you were calling about something else.”

You grit your teeth. What the fuck else? The fact that he sounded genuinely confused only served to aggravate you further.

“Did you or did you not use the information I gave you to intercept my deal with MNY?”

Finally the lightbulb went on.

“Oh, that was you. Hm.”

If you’d been talking in person, you probably would have slapped him at this point. Or at least considered it.

“I didn’t know you were our competitor in that aspect. I… probably would have reconsidered if I had known.”

“Excuse me?”

That tone of over-familiarity, patronizing… the care when you’re not supposed to care was back and you realized you regretted this phone call. 

“How would it be any different? Are you implying that you’d let me win?”

“No, of course not, I…” He trailed off. “Would you like to come over to my apartment and talk? I can give you my address, I would rather talk in person.”

Why? So I can get over there and end up fucking you again?

“I respectfully decline,” you answered curtly, and hung up, tossing your phone onto your bed and letting out an aggravated sigh. 

---

The next morning, you leave an early executive meeting only to find that your office had been overrun with flowers between the hours of 7 to 8 am.

There are yellow roses, stating admiration, spilling out of an oversized bouquet on your desk and a separate bouquet of light red carnations and white camellias that imply that he finds you ‘adorable’. A white card is placed in the yellow bouquet, and on it is written Ushijima’s neat script - you realize it’s from him before you even finish reading the note.

I would like to see you again. Please accept my call around 6 pm.

Respectfully, 

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Your hands hover over the wastebasket in your room with the flowers in your arms, but instead you sigh, and stuff them behind you on your shelf. At least you won’t have to see them while you work, but they’re pretty. They’re clearly bought from a floral shop, but you recall that he had said he gardened in his free time.

Ushijima calls promptly at 6 pm and you let it ring twice before deciding to block his number just as he’s calling. Something about the action is satisfying. 

You can’t be won over with a couple of flowers and kind words. Women aren’t as easily swayed as he may think.

---

It’s another Friday, and surprisingly you haven’t been contacted for a blind date, whether it’s by your parents or the matchmaking service they’ve subscribed you to.

Maybe they’d gotten the message after you’d been ghosted that you were tired of this game. Maybe they were giving you a break. Maybe they’d run out of potential suitors. You were surprised, but not upset.

Ushijima had truly gotten under your skin.

After blocking his call, there were no more attempts at contact for the rest of the week. The only thing left to consider was that if you ever crossed paths in your careers, you would pay him back for snatching your investor. 

And snatching your dignity in the process.

It was about 4 pm and most of the employees were wrapping up their tasks for the day. You usually aimed to have everyone out by 5, especially on Friday so this was boding well. 

“Hey, Madam President, are you okay with an add-on?” You hear your secretary call from outside your door.

“Oh, I mean, I guess but-”

She’s already letting Ushijima through the door.

You smile sweetly, maintaining professional behavior as best you can, while your secretary leads him to an armchair across from you, up until she exits, your expression souring the moment she closes the door.

“Mr. Ushijima, what are you doing in my office?”

He’s settled into the chair so comfortably that it feels as though you’re in his office, not your own. He’s dressed more casually than he was at the restaurant, no suit jacket, just a brown V-neck sweater over a dress shirt that almost seems too tight and a pair of chinos. He’s also wearing a pair of glasses, which is new. 

You hate that he looks good.

“Apologizing and requesting your company.”

He looks at you sincerely, his hands clasped together in his lap. You narrow your eyes.

“Please leave.”

He actually frowns, and the small action actually surprises you. 

“Do you actually want me to leave or are you still upset about the investor? Because if it’s that, we can make an arrangement-”

“No, I’m upset because you did that after not following up after our one night stand!” You finally blurt out, then bite your lip realizing you might have said too much.

“I… got busy.”

“Busy screwing me over?” You quip.

He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture.

“I didn’t call because I thought you didn’t like me.”

You’re a little stunned by this reply, then decide you don’t believe him. What was there not to like? At least at that point he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Why would you think that?”

His hands leave his hair again and rest on his knees. You notice it seems like a default position for him. 

“I’ve been referred to as ‘stiff’. It’s great at work but not great for relationships.”

Ushijima’s brutal honesty is again sending you for a loop. You raise an eyebrow, bidding him to continue. Your arms uncross and you rest your elbows on the table.

“So…?”

“So usually by the time I’ve had sex with someone, it’s all they’re after. And since you didn’t call, I assumed even the sex wasn’t good.”

You unwittingly burst into laughter. Here was this successful, attractive man with a perfect pedigree who was insecure about how good he was in bed?

His eyebrows furrow, and you recollect yourself, realizing that this is a bit cruel.

“You could have sent a text,” you murmur.

“I’m bad at starting conversations.”

You stifle another laugh. “So you just don’t?” You tease. It’s gently mocking but mostly incredulous. It seems that he’s the opposite of the confident man he appears to be.

“That’s why I got excited when you called but then you were upset.”

You purse your lips.

“I promise I didn’t intend to put you in a bad situation,” Ushijima insists.

You sigh, then offer him a small smile. “Are you normally this persistent?”

He glances at the flowers that are only partially hidden from view, which makes your face warm up bashfully, and then looks right back at you.

“No. I just like you.”

Again with the directness, a confidence that is effortless, even when he’s not confident at all.

You don’t want to melt but you do. So instead you rise and clear your desk, stuffing a few items into your handbag as you prepare to leave. He watches, unsure of what you’re up to, sitting still as you walk around towards him and place your hand lightly on his shoulder.

Your body faces the door, but you turn to the side to look at him and grin.

“I’m done with work for today. Take me out.”

---

A couple months later...

“Fuck, you’re - ah - they’re gonna know, I-” Your voice morphs into a mewl instead once his ring finger reaches just the right spot; you’re squirming as much as possible under his touch but he has you laid back on your work desk with both ankles rested on his shoulders and his weight leaning onto you to essentially keep you in place.

“Move your hands,” Ushijima whispers in a hushed tone, leaning in to kiss between your breasts as he readjusts your legs atop him. His pants are down and his cock is already up and ready, the base and swollen balls rubbing against your wet cunt that you are desperately trying to protect from his intrusion. You know there’s absolutely no way you’ll stay quiet when he’s pounding the shit out of you, he likes it entirely too rough, and the walls are thin. You don’t listen, continuing to reach for his hands to swat them away from you.

There’s a part of you that is almost certain that at the very least your secretary knows that every time Ushijima comes for a ‘meeting’, it really is just to fuck the shit out of you before you leave together for the evening, or to relax you right before you once again have to defend your dad’s establishment of you as Company President.

This isn’t a good look.

“I-I can’t…” you whine.

“You can,” he assures you.

He gently kisses your face before prying your hands out of the way and keeping them pinned up against you with one hand and guiding his trajectory with the other before sinking inside of you. You moan at the breach of your privates and he quickly presses his lips to yours to swallow the sound.

Once he’s bottomed out, he rolls his hips, and soon you start to see white once you climax, clenching and cumming around him.

“T-Toshi!” You moan his name, and he clasps a large hand around your mouth before continuing, picking up the pace as he fucks you through your orgasm. He can’t deny that he likes the fact that you’re noisy, that the fact that the heavy desk he’s fucking you against is making a squeaky noise that suggests he’s really putting some force behind these strokes, and that if anyone could see the two of you now, it could be an issue for both of your corporations. Misconduct, they would call it.

He doesn’t care and while you act like you do, you don’t really care either. 

When he lets go of your wrists to use the edge of the desk as leverage and tilts backwards, you scream in pleasure, a terribly obvious sound, and it’s enough to have him tip over and spill into you with a groan. He collapses onto you and the two of you almost slip onto the floor, but don’t; you wrap your arms around him. 

Your hair is disheveled and so is his, and your legs are sticky with sweat and cum. You sigh, letting him soften inside you and stroke his hair.

“You’re getting me in trouble,” you murmur, and he lets out a breathy laugh.

“We don’t really have to answer to anyone, do we?” He replies with a smirk, and pecks you one more time on the lips.

He’s right - only you two are a match for each other.

[jamespotterthefirst]

Auld Lang Syne (Ethan x f!MC)

aka the fake NYE date

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 3.5K (sorry) Warning: some language

Premise: Ethan pretends to be her date (yet again) for her family’s NYE party. Part II of  As Long as You Love Me So

Author’s Note: *gestures grandly* Look at all those chickens fanfic tropes. Thank you to @aestheticartsx​​ for pre-reading this mess! 

4:00 pm

Impossibly, he was there with her, in an over-embellished cabin in Vermont, staring at the bed as though it would sprout claws and teeth any minute now. For lack of anything else to say or do, Ethan cleared his throat rather loudly. 

“There's only one…”

“Yep,” she returned quickly, voice sounding strangled with barely controlled worry.

They had been in that exact situation before, not too long ago in Miami. Except when that happened, they had never kissed before. At that point, Ethan had no idea how her lush, warm lips would feel against his or how every swell and dip of her body would fit so perfectly under his touch. 

Ethan was convinced she was remembering that experience as vividly as he was. They had made it out of there with their dignity and professionalism in shreds. Now, they had somehow managed to stumble into an even worse scenario. 

Lilac finally tore her eyes away from the mattress and threw him a furtive but defeated look. 

“It makes sense, I guess. My cousins are not as old fashioned as our parents. They think we sleep together all the time.”

Ethan almost coughed, but thanks to acting skills he did not know he possessed, he managed to keep his face neutral. Desperately, he steered his mind away from thoughts of Lilac in bed with him and all the magnificent things they'd do. 

“I'll take the couch,” he managed, throwing his bag atop the plump cushions. The loud thud of its landing served as irrefutable finality to his statement. 

Now that he was here, he would get through the evening at her side, careful to keep his meticulously constructed guard up. After the festivities, that couch would be his only respite from the magnetic pull that always made itself known when he was near her. And in the morning, they would drive back to Boston, where he could focus his attention back on Naveen and the slight improvement of his case. 

Just one night. 

He just had to get through tonight and then he could go back to putting as much distance between them as possible.  

5:00

“You're kidding,” Lilac said, eyes trained on the sparkling silver fabric her cousin dangled before her. The bleak sunlight pouring from the window hit the dress and sent iridescent beams of color all about. 

Natalia all but shrieked with excitement, clutching the dress close to her. 

“You can't tell me he won't love it!” 

Lilac said nothing, examining the outfit and trying her best to figure out how so little fabric would amount to a whole dress. It looked to her more like a long, backless shirt than anything else. And typically, the garment would be just her style, particularly when trying upstage her horrible cousin Griselda at her own party. 

Today, however, she couldn't help but second guess everything. Her stomach bottomed out just at the thought of Ethan's eyes on her in that dress. 

As though reading her mind, Natalia grinned at her. 

“He loved that pink dress you were wearing at dinner the other night,” she said in a sing-song voice.

Lilac remained silent, fighting back the persistent need to ask for more detail. Natalia, however, did not need an invitation to offer it in a giddy rush. 

“He couldn't keep his eyes off you, Lilita,” she gushed. “The way he looked at you when you weren't looking…” She trailed off, as though words were not enough to properly describe the heated, stolen glances of that night. “God, you can just tell he lo—” 

At this, her cousin halted abruptly, throwing Lilac a sheepish look. There was no way for her cousin to know if they had said the words to one another yet in this made-up relationship.

A sharp, painful wave of longing settled in Lilac's stomach at the thought. What would it be like to hear Ethan Ramsey utter those words, striking blue eyes looking down at her as though she was the only person in the world? 

“Anyway,” Natalia tried again. “You can tell Dr. Ramsey was feeling that dress the other night. I bet I can guess what you did when you got home.”

Lilac sincerely doubted that unless Natalia knew she had been so mortified that night when she got to her apartment that she downed half a bottle of wine and stuffed her face with Sienna's brownies.  

“Fine,” Lilac agreed at last, taking the garment from her cousin. “I'll wear the dress.”

Natalia squealed her excitement and Lilac couldn't help but smile at her cousin's contagious joy. 

“I can't wait to see the stupid look on Griselda's face. She's been in an awful mood getting everything ready for tonight. When she sees you in this, arm in arm with your hot doctor, she'll have a conniption.”

6:00

The familiar burn from the liquid was a welcomed relief from the many thoughts plaguing him. They alternated between thoughts of Lilac and his concern for Naveen, despite the many texts from the latter assuring him he was fine. Now that he was alone, he was beginning to understand just how much of a mistake this had been. 

Ethan took another drink. Despite how much he disliked Lilac's pretentious cousin, he had to admit she kept the cabin's home bar stocked with exceptional scotch. 

“Glenmorangie,” a voice said from behind him. 

Ethan did not have to turn around to know it was Griselda, standing a few feet away as though summoned. 

“Eighteen year,” she continued, eyeing the glass in his hand. She paused, as though awaiting praise for her excellent taste. 

Ethan determinately offered none. 

Lilac's cousin sighed, moving closer to the bar. The clamor of her heels against the floor echoed around the cavernous space of the otherwise desolate living room. 

“I'm impressed, you know,” she said in a deliberately causal tone. She took the bottle of Glenmorangie and poured two fingers in a glass. “I didn't think you'd actually show.”

Unfazed, Ethan kept his eyes ahead and took another swig. “I can't imagine why.”

Griselda let out a low, humorless laugh. “See, I didn't think a world renowned doctor would be interested in acting for a whole weekend, all for the sake of a lowly intern.”

The words were delivered with unmistakable triumph, each of them striking Ethan like the ominous tolling of iron bells. 

With experienced impassiveness, he turned to face her. Griselda wore a victorious smirk, dark eyes glittering as she took in the expanse of his chest with unveiled interest. Her smile turned coy, concealed briefly by the crystal of her glass as she took a drink. 

When he glanced away wordlessly, she pressed on. 

“You can drop the act, Doctor Ramsey. I'm not an imbecile.” Her voice was a deadly whisper. “My pathetic little cousin would do anything to impress me. Even fake a relationship with her medical hero to fulfill her pitiful little fantasies.”

His fingers clutched his glass with such force that the decorative ridges dug into his skin almost painfully. 

“How she roped you into her juvenile scheme is beyond me.” She had gravitated a lot closer to Ethan. “Lucky for you, however, you are free to act as you please now that I know.”

He could see a blood-red nail moving closer to his hand on the counter. Ethan raised his scotch to his lips, his grip so tight on the glass now that his knuckles shone white. 

“I'd never fake a relationship in front of you,” he muttered at last, carefully choosing his words. 

This had the intended effect because Griselda perked up, intrigued. 

“And why is that?” 

Ethan set his glass on the counter, facing her full on. Summoning his most charming smile, the same one that had a visible effect on many recipients, he leaned in close. 

Griselda's breath hitched expectantly. 

And then, very carefully, so carefully that there would be no room for her to miss the words, he whispered—

“Because you're not that special.”

7:00 

With one last glance at her reflection and a sharp, shuddering exhale, Lilac trekked to the dining room where most of that night's guests were already congregated. Many pairs of eyes landed on her as she entered, the din of conversation ebbing slowly. 

Griselda, who was chatting with her work acquaintances, stopped mid-sentence as her eyes fell on Lilac, the faux pleasant smile falling from her expression at once. There was something different about the furious glare her cousin bore into her like a knife. It was unabashedly disdainful, even hateful. 

Lilac would have enjoyed it any other night but instead, she was far too busy scanning the crowd for—

“Dr. Ramsey, there you are,” exclaimed Natalia, eyes falling over Lilac's shoulder. 

Before she could swivel around, a pair of strong, warm arms enveloped her from behind. His hands rested at her hips and his intoxicating scent cast such a heady spell on Lilac that she was lucky his strong chest offered her support. She had no hope of getting any words out, least of all when he leaned down and whispered in her ear—

“New dress?” 

8:00

Ethan realized far too soon that the distracting silver dress was the least of his worries. Unsettled as he was, however, he would occasionally find his attention hopelessly caught on the tantalizing fabric and the way it adorned her figure perfectly. He wasn't blind after all. 

Lilac laughed at something Sebastian said. She was far more relaxed after a few drinks, laughing with ease in a way that made Ethan's pulse quicken. 

“I bet Doctor Ramsey would love to see those,” Sebastian said with a laugh of his own.

“See what?” 

“Some videos of young Lilita singing Selena songs at karaoke, complete with signature dance moves.” Sebastian accentuated the last two words with easy movements of his hips, gracefully spinning in a full circle. “Remember La Lavadora?”

Natalia laughed. “We used to tie up our shirts and pretend we were wearing her famous bustier.”

Just then, Ethan caught Griselda's eye from across the living room. Her dark eyes fell to the space that separated Ethan and Lilac where they stood, a satisfied smile starting to dawn on her face. 

With a sudden rush of determination, he cupped the small of her bare back and pulled her close, his blood fizzing at her proximity. Lilac jolted slightly, turning a surprised glance at him. 

“Is this okay?” he whispered in her ear. 

Lilac glanced at him through heavy lids, her eyes falling to his lips for the briefest of seconds. It was enough to make his pulse a roar in his ears. 

“Yes.”

As if on its own accord, his thumb traced lazy circles at her back. Blushing, Lilac parted her lips and looked at him so intently, Ethan was convinced she was two seconds away from dragging him into their shared bedroom. 

He would gladly let her.

“Get a room,” Sebastian teased, prompting Ethan to remember her cousins were still there. 

From across the room, Griselda scowled, downing her drink in one gulp. 

“Luckily they have one,” Natalia added with a laugh and a wink for Lilac. 

9:00

Griselda's undisguised hostility grew more tangible by the hour. Their dislike was no secret to anyone in the family, but even Natalia and Sebastian couldn't deny something was different today. So different in fact, that even her unsuspecting guests, who had no background on her family, started to notice. 

“What's up her ass?” Natalia joked over the music. 

Lilac shrugged and took another sip of her champagne, despite Ethan's constant reminders that the drink was pitiful. 

“You're getting drunk off of garbage, Rookie,” he commented from where he stood at her side. 

His hand rested on the curve of her waist, burning through the fabric. Lilac was convinced she was getting drunk off of him, his touch, and the way his eyes pierced through her with each glance. 

Natalia perked up at the nickname. “Rookie?” 

“His nickname for me,” Lilac explained. 

Natalia, looking a bit tipsy herself, cooed, “Aww! That's so cute!”

Luckily, she didn't ask for further explanation. Instead, Natalia moved to chat with a family friend, one Lilac was increasingly convinced she harbored a crush for. 

“Something's different,” she commented to Ethan quietly. “Ever since dinner, you've been… just… different.”

Instead of responding, Ethan's eyes scanned the crowd. 

“What's going on?” 

His eyes softened when they met hers. Gently, he leaned in to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He didn't move his hand away, the pad of his thumb tracing lazy lines along her cheekbone.

Lilac held her breath, too afraid that any movement might scare him away. Their faces were so close together, his eyes taking in every inch of her face, as though memorizing it. Until at last, they rested on her lips. 

“Ethan—” 

And then the blinding flash of a camera forced them to spring apart.

“Shit. Sorry. That was supposed to be without flash!” Natalia said. “It's a cute picture, though.”

10:00

Pretty green eyes made his blood warmer than any fine scotch ever could. He leaned in to whisper something that made her laugh and that made him drunker still, the sound making him feel weightless. 

Ethan's hand alternated from her waist, back, arms. His skin all but burned anywhere he touched her, white hot and electric. 

At some point throughout the night he had stopped checking if her cousin was watching. He no longer cared if she was buying the act. 

Not that he had been acting for a second anyway. Every touch, every whisper, every smile had been genuine. 

More genuine still was the urge to kiss her.

11:30

“Estúpida!” Natalia shrieked at Griselda, drawing the attention of most of the guests. She had jumped back to avoid the splash of red wine headed her way but she had not been fast enough. Her lovely champagne colored dress was ruined with an ugly splotch. 

“Sorry,” Griselda said, not sounding sorry at all. “If it makes you feel any better, it was an accident.”

Lilac doubted that very much. 

On second thought, spilling wine over Natalia had been an accident because the intended target had been Lilac. 

From beside her, Ethan sighed loudly, pulling her close. “Are you alright?” 

Before Lilac could offer any form of reply, Griselda let out an exaggerated coo at the sight of them. Keith, her boyfriend, lurked behind her, looking embarrassed and like he wanted to intervene but wasn't entirely sure how. 

“Gris, you're drunk,” he said, gently taking her elbow. 

Griselda purposely ignored him, eyes zeroed in on Lilac and Ethan. In the chaos of Natalia cursing up a storm and Sebastian looking around their immediate proximity for something to help her soak up the mess, Lilac could not properly study the unmasked disdain on her cousin's expression. All she saw were fierce dark eyes sinking into here's, glassed over from a full evening of drinking, and an unrelenting snarl. 

“Que hermosa pareja,” Griselda commented quite loudly. No one, not even those who didn't speak the language, could doubt the sarcasm dripping from every syllable. 

Lilac thought her cousin must be very intoxicated to allow her native language out so freely. 

“You two are almost…” Griselda trailed off deliberately. “...too good to be true.”

A horrible sense of dread sunk in her stomach like a stone. 

She knew. 

Her cousin's words, drunk and slurred as they were, insinuated that she knew about their fib. 

Panicked, Lilac glanced up at Ethan and was surprised to see him unfazed, as though the information was nothing new for him. 

“So happy for you, primita,” Griselda went on, swaying slightly on her feet. “If you do end up marrying this one, I must help you plan the wedding.”

A nasty surge of panic speared through Lilac, her pulse drumming chaotically at her ears. She could see Ethan's confused frown from the corner of her eye. 

“I got my hopes up with the last one,” Griselda continued, words accompanied by a dangerous smirk.

“Griselda, shut up,” Sebastian snapped furiously. 

“Until he cheated on you. What a shame that was.”

The room went dead silent. 

Lilac's throat constricted painfully and to her horror, her eyes stung with the threat of tears. Her breathing, which quickened dangerously, came out in chocked little gasps and it took every ounce of her strength to stifle them. 

“And then when you took him back and he cheated again, I just didn't—” 

SLAP

Lilac's palm had connected with her cousin's airbrushed face with a resounding crack. She didn't pause to see Griselda's shock dwindle into hatred, or to hear any of the words Ethan was saying. Furiously smearing away the tears that had finally spilled, she turned on her heel and ran. 

11:50

It was ten minutes before midnight when Ethan finally found her, a lone figure in the middle of the backyard's gazebo. She didn't move as he approached, eyes fixed on the dark outline of the forest beyond. 

It was a particularly clear night for winter in Vermont, the remnants of the last snowfall nothing but grey sludge on the ground. Still, the biting chill of the night whipped against their skin and the only thing protecting her was a flimsy fleece throw blanket. 

Without a word, he removed his suit's jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Lilac merely looked at the fabric and let out a small humorless laugh. 

“Back to where we started,” she muttered. 

It dawned on him that he had done the very same thing the night this whole fantasy started. 

After a short, peaceful pause, Ethan opened his mouth to offer some kind of comfort. Before the words could leave him, however, she stood up from her seat on the bench with a renewed sense of purpose. 

“Let's get the hell out of here.”

Ethan nodded once. “We can go back to the room—” 

But Lilac was shaking her head. “Back to Boston.”

A beat. 

“Rookie, that's crazy.”

“No, what's crazy is this whole stupid scheme. Pretending to date? Who does that?” Her voice flared briefly with her temper, only realizing this belatedly. She looked away from Ethan. 

Ethan remained silent, giving her as much time as she needed. After a minute, she exhaled sharply and met his eye again. “I'm really sorry I dragged you into this.”

Ethan wasn't sorry at all. He dismissed the apology with a wave of his hand.

More silence. 

Lilac leaned against a wooden beam and let out another ironic laugh. “The funny thing is it didn't even work.”

“It worked.” 

At his side, his hands flexed instinctively, yearning to touch her just like he had all night. There was no question in his mind that everyone, including Griselda, was convinced of his feelings for Lilac. 

Lilac, meanwhile, sent him a questioning look and his pulse accelerated at the mere thought of telling her just that. 

“That's why she lashed out,” he said instead.

She nodded once, deep in thought. 

The way her shoulders pinched with tension and the slight quiver of her lips left no doubt that she was recalling Griselda's lashing words. And though Ethan was insurmountably curious, he refrained from asking. 

“Earlier,” he started quietly. “She confronted me about this being an act.”

Her head snapped to look at him. After a few seconds, understanding dawned on her beautiful, moonlit face. 

“That's why you…” she trailed off, looking slightly embarrassed. “That's why you put on a hell of a show.”

They could hear the swelling of voices from inside the cabin. Someone inside announced there were only their seconds left until midnight. 

Neither of them looked away from one another. Ethan's eyes descended to her petal pink lips and then back to her eyes. 

“It wasn't for show.”

Her breath hitched. 

“Lilac, you already know that I—” 

In the distance, the party-goers began their countdown. 

“Ten!” 

His hand found the dip of her waist, as though magnetized. 

“Nine!” 

Eyes never leaving hers, he pulled her closer to him.

“Eight!”

“Ethan,” she whispered. A plea and the sweetest sound he had ever heard. 

“Seven!”

Their bodies were pressed so close together, he wondered if she could feel the way his thunderous heart beat for her. 

“Six!” 

Lilac's perfume caressed his senses as her delicate hands clung to his shoulders. 

“Five!” 

“Lilac,” he murmured, sounding agonized to his own ears. 

“Four!” 

Her hand moved to cradle his jaw and Ethan briefly closed his eyes. 

“Three!” 

Delicate fingers danced along the planes of his face with a featherlight touch. 

“Two!”

Ethan basked in her touch, convinced there was nothing better. 

Nothing except—

“One!”

And he kissed her at last. 

Translations:

La Lavadora : “The Washer Machine”/ a dance move

“Estúpida!” : Stupid bitch

“Que hermosa pareja,” : What a beautiful couple

Primita: little cousin

Author’s Note: Ah! So there will definitely be a part 3. However, I still haven’t decided if I will work on that first or on the next Picta chapter. It depends what this volatile inspiration of mine decides!

Thank you so much for reading this!

And thank you so much to everyone who put up with me, my blog, and my writing this year. Your support means everything. Seriously, writing is one of my greatest joys. Before truly immersing myself in this fandom, I thought I’d never write again because of work and other responsibilities. 

Thank you everyone for giving me this gift back.

Happy New Year, my loves! I wish everyone success, happiness, and excellent health. Now, let’s all quietly walk into 2021 and not touch anything. 

Tags: @openheart12​​ , @takeharryandgo​​ , @trappedinfanfiction​​, @aestheticartsx​​, @aworldoffandoms​​, @paulfwesley​​, @myusualnerdyself​​,  @rookie-ramsey​​, @ohchoices​​,  @enmchoices​​, @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​​, @choicesfanaf​​, @openheartthot​​, @octobereighth​​, @nazarihoe​​, @utterlyinevitable​​, @kites-in-our-skies​​, @maurine07​​, @schnitzelbutterfingers​​, @doilooklikeiknow​​, @snesdudes​​, @kingliam2019​​, @perriewinklenerdie​​, @cinnamonspongecake​​, , @queencarb​​, @ethxnrxmsey​​, @missmiimiie​​, @jens-diamondchoices​​, @adamsdumortain​​, @apphia12​​, @kalogh​​, @lucy-268​​, @binny1985​​, @queenbirbs​​, @honeyandsunfl0wers​​, @newcolonies​​, @lilyvalentine​​, @rigatonireid​​, @interobanginyourmom​​, @parkerattano​​, @custaroonie​​, @nikki-2406​, @lilypills​​, @chasingrobbie​​, @nooruleman​​,  @lonely-mxxnlight​​, @ruinedbypixels​​, @shadynaturehilariouscookie​​, @tsrookie​​, @mvalentine​​, @professorkingslay​​, @drakewalkerfantasy​​, @casey-v​​, @helloblueeyedcat​​, @mysticaurathings​​, @blossomanarchy​​, @thegreentwin​​, @togetherwearerapture​​, @rookieoh​​,  @rookiemarsswiftie​​, @natashajaniphilchoices​​, @mysticalgalaxysstuff​​, @hatescapsicum​​, @choices-lurker​​, @kiara-36​​, @junehiratas​​, @danijimenezv​​, @macy-ray85​​, @adrex04​​, @canigetanawwjunk​​, @sanchita012​​, @overwhelminglyaquarius​​ , @scorpiochick8​​, @skylarklyon​​, @starrystarrytrouble​​, @mercury84choices​​, @drariellevalentine​​, @ethanrcmsey​​,  @aarisa-frost​​,  @udishaman​​, @a-crepusculo​​, @quacksonlover​​, @caroldxnvxrs​​, @ramseyandrys​​, @whatchique​​​, @varikasnuori​​, @dimitriwife​​​, @genevievemd​​​, @shanzay44​​​, @fabi-en-ciel​​​, @trebondialanna​​​, @lady-calypso​​​, @ashiiknees​​​, @dr-ramseys-rookie​​​, @stygianflood​​​, @bellcat2010​​​, @iemcpbchoices​​​,  @bellcat2010​, @iemcpbchoices​, @gryffindordaughterofathena​, @alookseeblog​, @whimsicallywayward15​

@emotionalswift2,  @lion-ess24, @lovingramsey​

[saiki-kusuhoee]

Hey idk if ur still doing requests or not but could you maybe do one where Tamaki, Fatgum and Todoroki’s relationship with their fem! S/O gets leaked maybe. It’s okay if you don’t want to tho! 🤍🤍🤍

Im sorry! I made it gender neutral by accident, please forgive me!

Amajiki Tamaki

➤ He’s totally panicking when celebrity gossip overflows into both you and his names all over tea spilling pages and celebrity news. All he’s wondering is; a) How this happened, b) if you knew, and c) How you feel. He’s running his hands through his hair and pacing in his room when you knock on his front door.

➤  He sits you down and talks at a really fast pace about the rumours, and how devastated he is, and +, he’s muttering apologies along with it. It's a bit silly, how he’s reacting, so you try to get him to relax. It's hard for him, though. He would never ever admit it, but he’s quite possessive of you. He’s really scared of some villain targeting you, or stealing you away.

➤ He’s very self conscious about that, and he really thinks that you can do wayyy better than him, and wants you too. But his thoughts are particularly contradicting, as he never wants you to leave him. You’re just so special and you make him feel amazing about himself. His love for you puts him on cloud nine and makes him a much better hero.

➤ He admits why he’s so scared, and it's an eye opener. You hold him and tell him you adore and need him as much as he needs you, and that there's no better than him. You guys cuddle and kiss, and he calms down considerably. You two decide to confirm the rumours

➤ To Amajiki’s surprise, the public loves your guy’s relationship, and it takes a huge load of stress off of him. Everyone loves you two so much that there’s fanart and fanfictions of you two. Some are not so safe for work, unfortunately…

Taishiro Toyomitsu

➤ When Fat Gum agreed to go on a daytime talk show, he wasn’t expecting to be bombarded with questions about his romantic life. He denied having anyone special, because you had expressed that you didn’t want a public relationship, and he respected that.

➤ But then, they pull up the pictures. The first of which is you walking relatively near him, and you could just be any person, then another with you entering his agency with takoyaki. But the last one was you two at the beach, kissing. (this was probably on the ellen show, y’all)

➤ Taishiro is beet red, and stammering that it's not what it looks like, with the background of the audience laughing, he doesn’t seem so credible. Just like that, your guy’s cover is blown, and it's undeniable.

➤ When the show airs, Taishiro is apologizing profusely. It’s not his fault, and you make sure that he knows that, since he’s talking all of the blame. He feels like he let you down, majorly. You continue to tell him that it's alright, stuff like this happens.

➤ He comes out with a statement to the public, not with words, but with actions. He publicly proposes to you, turning heads and making your heart swell. The flash of cameras and cheer of the surrounding citizens. He loves you, and isn’t afraid to show you off. So, will you accept his proposal?

➤ Unlike Amajiki and Toyomitsu, Shoto completely forgot that your guy’s relationship was meant to be secret. Like Fat Gum, he goes onto a talk show, and when he’s told how handsome and charming he is by the female host, leading to her making a single slight innuendo, he snaps. “Pardon me, I have an s/o. Their name is y/n and I intend on being loyal.”

➤ The clip of the show goes viral, and everyone is feral over you. After people see your face, He’s got thousands of fans on every social media of his telling him how gorgeous and attractive you are. His replies are all- ‘Yes, I am aware that y/n is stunning. Thank you.’, ‘Yes, I have seen them before.�� and ‘How do you guys know about y/n??’

➤ Wow… I mean- Shoto is a real piece of work, huh? When you ask him why he's being so nonchalant about leaking your guy’s relationship, he didn't see it as a huge deal. Sure, you’ve vaguely suggested keeping it a secret, but it was still weird that your notifications were constantly blown up with people asking for your guy’s relationship details.

➤ Shoto’s justification is- “Baby, We’re going to be forever together, I swear. Someone was bound to find out. I just feel like our love shouldn’t be a secret. And I’m sick of everyone ‘shipping’ me with Bakugou and Midoriya. I love you, not them.” Again, Shoto is a real piece of work, he’s so sweet. <3

➤ As previously mentioned, everyone loves you. He takes you out on fancy dates often, and it's not rare that Endeavor is asked how he feels about you. Bakugou and Midoriya are asked if they are sad as well. Yaoyorozu definitely feels something, but not enough to speak out, she’s married to Jirou, anyways.

[troped-fanfic-challenge]

*This event has ended! Click the links in the Timeline to see individual rounds, prompts, fics, voting, and results!*

Hey, Tropesters! It’s time for another TROPED event, but this time the prompts will be in the form of MOODBOARDS! Made by yours truly, the moodboards function as the inspiration for the fics written for this event! We've got four exciting themes picked out, and the boards are already looking great, so we hope you're excited! This event will be a little different from the others that we have put on, so keep reading for more info!

How It Works:

Firstly, this is our first ever TROPED Multi-Fandom event, so share this around! We would love to get fics from fandoms we've never had for TROPED before! All Fandoms are welcome and there is in no minimum participation required for this event!Because this is a Multi-Fandom event, the voting process and the overall event structure will be a little different!

No Sign-Ups Required! We will release the prompts right here on the TROPED tumblr and you will submit your fics to the AO3 Collection! The Writing Periods will be on a rolling basis, with a moodboard dropping every ten (10) days, but fear not! If you are inspired for a round later in the event, you can still submit a fic to be included in Voting! We will simply drop the next board, but nothing will officially close or end until the end of the full Writing Period, on August 25th! Fics will be accepted into the official collection for the entirety of the event! **You will write four or more (4+) separate fanfics inspired by each round, but you do not have to participate in each and every round.**

Moodboard Prompts! As we said, the prompts for this event will be in the form of MOODBOARDS!!! Because photos are open to such a wide range of interpretations, and inspiration from a moodboard can come in all shapes and sizes, this event is much less strict in terms of 'sticking to the prompt'! We will be releasing the moodboards with a little blurb about what it is we envisioned when putting them together, but if inspiration strikes and takes you in another direction, go for it! Pretty much anything goes, as long as it fits with our standard rules! As a general rule, we'd like you to take each of the nine (9) photos and find a way to include that imagery in your fic in some way. Try to find a way to incorporate the concepts and inspirations you get from each photo into your story! Similar to the tropes used in our traditional TROPED format, the photos in the moodboards should matter to your story. You should try to have the photos not be inconsequential moments within your fic, but rather make the moments in the moodboard plot relevant!

All Pairings Allowed! TROPED is always a neutral space for any and all ships! We encourage [and sometimes require ;)] rare pairs, platonic pairings, and other out of the box dynamics within our fics! TROPED is, by design, a positive fandom space for everyone, and focusing on allowing and celebrating any and all pairings (that are allowed within the rules) is a big part of that! **Please feel free to write any pairing (within our rules) from the Fandom of your choosing. You do not have to write the same Fandom/Pairing for each round!**

**As a note, the photos in the moodboards are not definitive! A lot of stock photos are white, and straight, but we chose photos simply for the ✨vibes✨ of the photo, not the pairings themselves!! You can implement those scenes into your fics with any characters or combos, as long as it complies with our relationship rules!!**

This event will be Optionally Anonymous! Because the voting for this event is much more chill, and the writing period will be open for over a month, we will not require this event to be anonymous! However, if you would like to have your fic be anonymous, we will be sharing a small tutorial on how to make your fics anonymous and how to remove them from being anonymous sometime before the event starts, so keep your eyes peeled!

Voting! The voting for this event will be pretty simple! We will keep a list of all fics submitted for each event, and then at the end there will be a "best overall" poll for each round, along with some bonus polls! The voting will be based on the fics as a whole, and will include all fandoms together! If you do not want your fic included in the voting, you can let us know, or you can simply upload your fic to our non-anon collection instead! We will still share it along with the other fics and it will be included in all masterlists! We will provide a link to SurveyMonkey when voting begins.

For the OG Tropesters: As an added bonus for our long time The 100 fandom writers, we've cooked up an extra special little challenge for you! We will be including a special tenth (10th!!) photo, just for you! The 10th photo will be of a character of our choosing from The 100 (obviously) for you to include in your fic! We will be releasing the character we've chosen for each round when we drop the moodboard, so keep your eyes peeled!

Timeline:

Writing Period Dates: July 15th - August 25th!

Moodboard for R1 : July 15th at 12:00am

Moodboard for R2 : July 25th at 12:00am

Moodboard for R3 : August 4th at 12:00am

Moodboard for R4 : August 14th at 12:00am

End of Visual Writing Period: August 25th at 3:00am PST/6:00am EST [EXTENSION UNTIL SATURDAY, AUGUST 28TH AT 8:00 AM EST!]

Voting: August 28th at 12:00pm - August 30th at 11:59pm

Winners: August 31st!

*All times are in Eastern Standard Time (EST) unless otherwise specified!

Rules:

If you are a veteran to our TROPED Challenges, the rules below are mostly the same as before, but any newbies joining the fun should definitely take a look below!

This competition was created to get creative and put out different fics into the world, and to create a fun, positive fandom experience for everyone! In order to ensure that we achieve that goal of a positive experience, here are a few rules and guidelines that must be followed!The requirements for the fics entered into the competition will be:

Must include Characters from your specific chosen Fandom

Must try to fit the Theme of each round! While this event is a lot looser, each board will have a clear concept or theme for you to use in your fics!

Must try to use ALL of the pictures selected for the round. Each of the 9 photos are meant to be taken and turned into scenes, images, or themes within your story! This isn't hard and fast, but we encourage you to try to utilize the boards in a specific way, beyond just the general ✨vibes✨ of the board!

All fics must be 10,000 words or less! (We have allowed a 500 word buffer to allow for fics that are not quite finished at the 10k mark to get wrapped up!) There is no minimum word count.

All ratings G through M are welcome, but E Rated fics are not allowed. Please be aware that some fics may not be everyone’s thing! Write what you like, but the voting is public so just keep that in mind!

Multiple Entries Allowed. We love when authors are able to pump out multiple fics for a single prompt! If you would like them to be considered seperately for voting, please be sure they are standalone fics! If you end up writing multiple chapters or parts of one fic, let us know! We will only include one for voting but we will be sure to share all the parts!

Collaborations! We've had some people ask about collaborations, and we're all for it! If you and a friend would like to write a fic together, go for it! Just let us know who to credit when we share the fics on our masterlists and we will be sure to tag anyone involved!

You will be disqualified if you include:

Smut! Due to the chance that some fandoms might include a cast of all underage characters, we have decided to exclude smut. All ratings G-M are allowed!

Rape!

Underage! This means no High School AU with sex, no teacher/student if the student is underage, zero adult/under 18 romantic relationships!

Incest! Incest includes adopted siblings, foster siblings, parent/child, step siblings, biological siblings, or any familial relationship, blood related or not!

Negativity towards any character or ship! This includes any sort of abuse perpetrated by a character intending to paint them in a negative light, negative statements about a character intended purely to express your dislike of a character, or things of that nature. You MAY write characters as villains! Writing a character as a villain asks the audience to disagree with the characters motivations and choices, not to dislike the character on principle. The basis of this rule is that your fic should not be written as a way to simply express your dislike of a character.

Plagiarism! While the tropes we use in our challenges are common and communal, the stories and words you create must be your own! Fanfiction is about transformative work, and taking concepts from other writers is natural! Inspiration can come from lots of places, but rewriting someone else’s fic is unacceptable. *Following our own rules, we want to let you know that all photos used in the TROPED: VISUAL Moodboards are from Unsplash.com —a source for freely-usable images.*

This is meant to be a fun and positive experience for everyone. We reserve the right to disqualify anyone if we are reading their fic and we think it violates any of our rules!

Because this challenge is NOT completely anonymous, feel free to share your fics and post about them to your hearts content! If you wish to remain anonymous until after voting, you can, of course, wait and post about your fics then! The non-anon only applies to this event, though, so if you come back to write for us in the future be sure to keep those lips zipped!

Follow along here on Tumblr, the TROPED Twitter, the TROPED Instagram, or our Discord Server for more information on the event! We will release our prompts in these places and then everyone is free to start writing!!! We are super excited to see what you guys create!! 

If you have any questions about this event, fandoms or pairings, or any other concerns please send them to our Ask Box or DM a Mod (@dylanobrienisbatman or @thelittlefanpire)!

[unpopularkpop-opinions]

[!] return from hiatus/updates

Hello everyone, Katherine here! First of all, I wanted to apologize for the short unplanned hiatus we just had.  March is the start of the school year in Korea, and it was extra chaotic for me because I had to start working at two locations. I found myself with a very limited amount of free time, and two months flew by before I knew it. Plus some of the other admins were moving, job hunting, busy with schoolwork, etc.  It was just one of those times when everyone ended up having to take an unexpected break.

We’re getting ready to open the ask box soon, but there are a few things we wanted to go over before we did.  Most are related to posts that happened right before our unplanned hiatus, so they might not be fresh in everyone’s memories anymore… but we still want to mention them and talk about how we’ll address similar situations going forward.

1. We’ve noticed an increase in opinions about cultural appropriation in K-pop, as well as idols’ education/knowledge about the rest of the world in terms of culture, religion, certain historical events, etc.  We post as many of these as we can because we believe that’s an incredibly important topic, but it’s starting to come into conflict with our “no talking about Korean society/history/politics” rule. This is a little tricky for us, because it’s true it isn’t always just an issue within K-pop specifically (breaking admin neutrality and speaking from experience). But a lot of the comment sections for these opinions end up moving away from K-pop and just becoming a debate about Korean society.  So, we ask you to please stay on topic as much as you can. We know that these situations are not necessarily just an idol/K-pop issue, so we’re going to be a little more flexible... but please try and keep the discussion as close to K-pop as possible.  Using examples about Korean society to prove your point is okay, but we’ll have to stop the conversation if it becomes JUST about Korean society.

2. There was a (fairly recent) post about GFriend that went way off-topic and turned into a debate over Sowon’s scandal.  We understand that people wanted to talk about it since it happened between ask box openings, but turning someone’s opinion into a completely different discussion is unfair to the OP who submitted it. Since this has happened in the past with other idols, we decided to add onto our “stay on-topic” rule. From now on, please do not start conversations or make comments about an idol’s controversy under a post that’s NOT about that.  This includes opinions about the group the idol belongs to AND posts about that idol that address a different topic. Going with the Sowon example, this means that we would not allow bringing up her controversy on posts about GFriend in general (if OP doesn’t mention it), posts about other GFriend members, or posts about her that don’t address the scandal (ie “I think Sowon is super underrated” or “I wish Sowon got more lines”). There will be plenty of posts about idols and their controversies where you can have these discussions; please respect the opinions that want to talk about something else.

3. In light of recent events in the K-pop industry - aka all of the bullying allegations against a number of idols - we’d like to remind everyone of our “no speculation” rule before we open the ask box. This means no opinions like, “I can’t believe _________ was forced to go on hiatus, he/she is totally innocent” or “I’m not surprised ________ turned out to be a bully, he/she always gave me that vibe.”  We will be checking submitted opinions against the accusers’ posts and idols/agencies’ responses, and we won’t post any that speculate or repeat unverified rumors.  We’ll put up another reminder of this when we open the ask box, but I just wanted to give you all a heads up.

4. Before our hiatus, one of our admins posted a controversial opinion that many of you took issue with, and we took it down.  As the admin who approved the post, Jimin wanted to say a few words about the situation:

Hi all, I wanted to address a post we published from a few months ago that was homophobic and triggering to our LGBTQ+ followers. But before that, I want to sincerely apologize for how long it’s taken for me to respond. I firmly intended to address this publicly when it was first brought to my attention, but this blog went on the back burner for me these past two months, and I struggled to find the time to sit down and find the right words. 

I want to publicly apologize for the homophobic post that I allowed to be published. The post has of course been deleted, but for those who are out of the loop, OP complained about fans holding LGBTQ+ signs at concerts and making “political statements” at said concerts but also other avenues like entertainment shows (e.g “lesbians for x group” posters). Both the admin who made the post and I (who approved it) are members of the LGBTQ+ community, but we failed to recognize how harmful the post was to those in our community. I do want to say, however, that I was the one who ultimately approved the post, so the fault is on me, and I take responsibility for this fault. I thank everyone who messaged me about this issue and explained (even though you absolutely did not have to) why this post was problematic. After rereading the post, I realized my lapse in judgement and immediately took it down.

Even though yes, the opinion was unpopular, the opinion absolutely does not align with our rules nor our morals. We vehemently condemn homophobia. Over the years, we’ve refined our rules as we learned what is unpopular and what is straight up hate/harm. By now, I should have learned which posts could be harmful to a marginalized group, but I clearly did not this time, to which again, I sincerely apologize. No opinion is worth harming a marginalized community that already faces so much vitriol, discrimination, and hurt outside this blog. I promise to do better and make sure I don’t have to greet you all like this again. 

- Jimin

As always, thank you for your understanding and patience.  We’re looking forward to getting things started up again, and we’ll let you know about the next ask box opening soon!

Love, Katherine (katherinedoeskpop) and Jimin (paperjewels)

[lesbiansanemi]

It’s not racist to headcanon different skin tones/races in fairy tail because it takes place in a different world. if they were all japanese, then it would be right?

strongly agree | agree | neutral | disagree | strongly disagree

I have to put both, because I do agree with the first statement, but not necessarily the second one.

So... I'm white. Very white, so like, please please take this with a grain of salt.

It is never racist to depict characters with darker skin tones (unless of course you're only doing it with villains, but that's a whole other can of worms), regardless of whether the series takes place in another world or ours. But it is slightly different with anime sometimes because the characters are Japanese. Completely doing away with a character's Asian heritage isn't great. However, dark skinned Asian people exist, and it is very possible for characters to be both Black and Asian, or Latine and Asian, etc. So I don't think it's racist to depict Japanese anime characters with darker skin, or to say that they're Black or Latine or Native etc. Like definitely not racist at all. What is racist is pretending that the character was originally white, because uh, most anime characters aren't, even if a lot of them are very light skinned (which is also an issue, but it doesn't make them white)

So the thing with Fairy Tail is that... we don't really know if Mashima intended them to be seen as white or Asian? I always just went with them all being Asian, because it's an anime, ya know? But yeah, a lot of the characters do have very European style names, and the world itself clearly has some European inspiration. (The only characters I can think of off the top of my head as having Japanese names are Natsu, Kagura, Yukino, and Hibiki? I think?) But the series doesn't change if they're white or Asian (unlike series like FMA where very obviously the characters with European names are white).

But tbh I don't think it matters if the characters are white or Japanese when drawing or headcanoning or writing them with darker skin or different races, because like I said, it's never racist to depict characters with darker skin tones unless you only do it with villains. Just be a little mindful of the characters' Asian heritage when you do so

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

Imagine this: You are at a small party and you get bored with all the mindless chattering and gossip. You say you need some fresh air and head outside. Sighing, you place your wine glass down on a table and take off your heels. "Good evening.", a voice calls out from behind you. Your eyes meet mesmerizing scarlet. You know this man. But does he know you? "May I have this dance, my fellow outcast?" Smiling as you cringe at his words, you take his hand. (1/2)

Holy shit, Anon!

Before I start, I need to tell you that I am obsessed with this ask, and literally started mentally writing this the MINUTE I read through. Please pardon a little creative license; I couldn't resist. Hope you enjoy!

Edit 22 Oct. 2021- As a special request, there is another part to this fic, told from Gil’s perspective this time. Thank you for reading!

It isn't as hard to slip away from the festivities as it should be; everyone is already so deep into their drinks that they wouldn't really notice even if you did made an effort to announce your departure.

You take the miracle at face value however, weaving through various groups and couples to the kitchen, topping up your single glass of wine and stealing a few pieces of food.

For a few minutes, all is quiet in your little haven, only the soft lighting from the stove and a jack-o-lantern keeping you company. You finish off a few bites, and just as you're about to grab some more food, a couple stumbles through the doorway, oblivious to everyone and everything.

Deciding you would rather leave than interrupt them, you slip out the back door, closing it softly behind you.

Sunset is painting the sky in vibrant lilac and rose, birdsong still carrying across the yard. The day is still fairly warm, and you slip your shoes off with a sigh, wiggling your toes through the grass as you make your way to a white bistro set.

There are two empty chairs, and you happily take the nearest one, setting your glass on the table, happy to melt into the iron.There is nothing except the beautiful sky and a newfound inner peace. Blessed silence after all the hullabaloo and gossipmongering from the past hour.

"G'evenin'."

Dammit.

You hadn't noticed anyone else slipping outside, or hanging out in the yard. And now you'll have to make small talk again and feign interest in whatever pointless topics come up. Terrific.

Not bothering to even glance at your companion, who is already making himself comfortable in the other chair, you offer a frustrated sigh. "Hi."

"Oof. Little bitterness there."

Whoever he is, he sounds concerned, if not bemused.

Despite your irritation at having your privacy interrupted, you don your manners once more, turning to him with a smile you don't really feel. "Long night, sorry."

He hums. "That I get. More like a long week I think."

The admission and his tone have you breathing out the ghost of a laugh. "You got me there."

He's surprisingly quiet for a few minutes, seemingly just as content as you are to watch the skyscape. You find you're not nearly as uncomfortable with the company as you would have expected.

Subtly, you try to figure out exactly who he is, though the design of his mask makes it absolutely impossible. Really, the only thing you can make out are his eyes, a vibrant red you're sure are contacts.

You can't help but ogle his costume; he's dressed as if he stepped right out of a portrait, and if you didn't know better you would swear that was a genuine sapphire resting against his chest. And then there's his mask-

Scarlet eyes flicker your way, his lips turning up in a grin when he realizes you've been staring. "See something you like?"

You're far too embarrassed, yet somehow- "Jury's still out."

The grin grows even bigger, showing off the fangs that complete his ensemble. 

With how pale he is, you mentally decide, it's the perfect outfit for him.

You had thrown yours together on a whim, using a thrifted evening dress, hand-me-down jewelry, and a fake tiara you had worn a few times during your childhood. Ironically, the only part of your ensemble that was expensive is the mask itself, a custom piece that cost more than the rest of your outfit put together.

Now, sitting next to someone who looks like he stepped out of the 1800s, obnoxiously blue jacket and all, you feel a little underdressed, the feeling passing by as you realize he's discarded his own shoes and socks sometime ago.

There's something familiar about him, his slight slouch teasing at a memory from long ago. 

You would think, considering how few people are actually here, you would recognize him, would be able to figure out who he is.

But his eyes are strangers to you, his voice is... unique.

The not-knowing is more aggitating than his company, enough that it is the sole reason for your next words to him.

"As lovely as this has been, do you mind?"

There's no real expression on his face as he turns to you. "Nope. Do you?"

That was a challenge. You can see it in his eyes, heard the playful hitch in his voice. God help you, he's annoying. 

"Yes, actually." Deciding to press further, because why-the-hell not, you offer your own challenge. "You're interrupting my alone time."

"Pardon the intrusion, milady, but I'm pretty sure this is neutral territory."

"I was here first," you retort, a bit childishly.

He snorts, folding his arms across his chest, falling further into his chair, posture absolutely intended to mock you. "Were you, though?"

Dammit, he had you.

You shoot him a scathing look, one that was frankly just a little on the playful side, before folding your own arms and pretending to scowl at the setting sun.

A few more minutes pass, before you hear his voice again. "So..." he says, dragging out the sound in a pointed attempt at getting you to talk to him.

You ignore him, or you attempt to at least. It's kind of hard to do that when he's standing now, just inside your peripheral, head turned towards the heavens.

Finally realizing that you have no plans of responding, he takes another step, now more-or-less directly in your line of sight. "Why're you alone out here? Party's inside, ya know."

You level an unamused stare at his pointed question, a hint of bemusement coating your reply. "I could ask you the same thing."

He smirks, some quick, passing thing, before he hides it behind a small sip of his beer. "Touché."

Somehow, that brief exchange has revitalized you, and you take another drink from your wine, watching some birds make their final rounds for the evening.

The sky is shifting, darkening with each passing moment. And inside, the party is getting louder, laughter carrying out to you from the still partially open door.

He glances back towards the house, an odd expression on his face. You follow his gaze, almost instinctively, turning back to him curiously when you can't determine the cause of his- Discomfort? Irritation?

"You ever just want to run away?"

His question takes you by surprise, and you feel your heart constrict when his focus once more turns to you, achingly familiar eyes seemingly- haunted.

Whatever annoyance you had held previously is gone, replaced with something you don’t really recognize.

Trying to ignore it, you nearly default to the normal lie that comes with small talk, especially with strangers, but there's something so familiar about him-

You give yourself a minute to actually weigh his question, tasting different answers on your tongue. It teases you, the temporary daydream of just hitting the road, abandoning everything and everyone you know to start a new life elsewhere.

After a few moments- really, it could have been an Infinity or merely seconds- you have your answer.

"I'd be lying if the thought didn't appeal to me sometimes."

He hums, sounding somewhat detached, turning once more to study the treeline. There's a heaviness around him now, an aura that almost hurts to see.

"Something tells me it's been on your mind lately?"

He studies you for some time, and maybe it's the lighting or just the contacts, but you could swear his eyes are almost glowing. Finally he offers a small shrug, all that negativity seeming to disappear into thin air. 

"Eh. Comes and goes. Let's just say my cousin's really pissing me off."

You huff a laugh at the statement, thinking of your own loved ones inside, and how tipsy they were already when you first slipped outside. "Family, am I right?"

He hisses slightly, apparently his own form of laughter, that smile once more teasing the left corner of his mouth.

Silence reclaims the pair of you for a few more moments, and as awkward as it could have been- He's good company. After spending so long having to mindlessly chatter about the weather and ambitions, it was nice to simply breathe.

Your companion- it’s still bothering you that you don’t know his name- seems as at ease as you are, content to lean against the table as if he owns the place.

The sunlight is almost completely gone now, the waxing moon taunting you from behind a few scattered clouds painted in amethyst. The stars are not so shy, several distinct constellations already twinkling above you.

With the coming night, there's a chill creeping closer, a crispness to the air that has you sighing in contentment.

He seems to mistake the sound, eyes flashing with concern as he turns back to you. "Cold?"

Your denial is barely even formed before his jacket is over your shoulders, his lingering warmth already starting to seep into your bones.Your mouth opens in a small protest- Seriously, how dare he just assume!- but seeing how instinctively he had done it, how it almost seemed his second-nature-

Rather than offer up any protests, you sigh out a small thank you, and soon slide your arms into the sleeves, marveling at how warm the damn thing is despite how thin it is.

There is another round of laughter inside, and someone decides to raise the volume of the speakers.

Some orchestral piece is playing, a haunting melody that you felt befit a Gothic novel, a spellbinding spectrum of emotions carrying past the still opened door.

You see your companion shift, straightening his posture as he turns his attention back to you. Curious, brow raising slightly, you glance over at him, wondering at his next move.

Shockingly, he's bowing, a right, proper bow, before standing upright once more, a soft smile just noticeable. "May I have this dance, my fellow outcast?"

Oh God-

"You are ridiculous," you're laughing out, even as you take his offered hand.

He's grinning again, a playful look that fits him far better than some of the ones he's had on before. "It's all part of my charm!"

You're rolling your eyes, still smiling despite yourself.

It's only when he's guiding your hands to a ballroom position that you feel the first flickers of panic. You had been expecting maybe some swaying or just kind of shuffling, not-

"Relax, would ya?"

You meet his eyes, immediately reassured by the soft expression there, eased from that inexplicable familiarity. He isn't going to pressure you, and somehow you know he will always have your back.

"Just follow my lead; I've got ya."

You believe him. 

Despite not even knowing his name, what a majority of his face looks like, or even what accent that is- 

You believe him, and you decide to trust him.

Letting go is a strange sensation, one you're not entirely sure you dislike. He seems to know you're a novice, goes at a tempo that he can easily guide you through. Despite never having danced like this before, a few moments in you feel as if a part of you has been reawakened, the next steps coming to you before he begins to move into them.

He seems almost proud of your progress, your dance becoming more a partnership with each passing moment.

The song had shifted a long while ago- now some creepy lofi piece with samplings from a children's cartoon- yet your pace remained the same.

"So..." He puts out into the air, a pensive prompt that has you smiling.

"So," you repeat curiously.

There's another weird expression, fading away before you can analyze it. 

"What's your name?"

Maybe it's the thrill of anonymity, or maybe you're too caught up in the giddiness of your newly discovered talent. Instead of giving him a straight answer, you playfully offer: "Someone smarter than Cinderella's Prince Charming." 

Pensive, you offer an extra thought. "I know the power of a name; who knows what you'd do with it."

The comment seems to amuse him, that achingly familiar smile returning as he guides you into a dip. He hovers there for a moment, slightly pensive. "You know, Prince Charming is a lot smarter than you give him credit for." 

He's guiding you back up, his eyes glowing once you're upright again. "He could do more with his beloved's name than she could even begin to imagine."

That last line, a whisper meant just for the two of you, is digging at you, tugging at some memory buried deep, deep in your subconscious. 

There's something there, a name starting to shape on your lips-

But then he's doing that half-shrug again, dismissing the exchange entirely. "No matter. Keep your secrets, princess."

The last word was spoken with such fondness that your heart actually skipped a beat.

He barely gives you a moment to process, pulling you into a different routine that soon has the rest of the world fading away again. You let yourself forget everything else for a while; you exist only in this moment, dancing on the grass with a stranger.

Except, he's not a stranger, is he?

God help you, you know this is the first time you've met him, know that you've never interacted with this man before in your life, but you know him.

With every minute you spend with him, you imagine all kinds of moments with him- 

Laughter as he wipes chocolate cake off his cheek from an impromptu food fight, annoyance at his cousin's lecturing, the soft smile of pride as he listens to his brother's speech.

And dammit, he never even mentioned having a brother.

But the daydreams keep coming.

Holding his hand in some cobblestoned square, racing through the woods, collapsing into a freshly constructed snow fort, lazing in bed running your fingers through his hair while he reads aloud-

They're so vivid that you're starting to wonder if you lived an entire life with him already.

And God, doesn't that make you sound so ridiculous. 

You've only just met this guy, literally know maybe five things about him, and yet you're already imagining a future with him.

Life isn't some fairietale, and despite the tiara you're wearing for the night, you are not a princess. Shit like this isn't real.

But the way he's looking at you, watching you with such vulnerability and longing-

He's pulling you closer, your eyes drifting shut reflexively.

You feel his breath teasing your neck, his hand pulling you closer to him.

You-

A familiar voice is calling your name.

You barely hear it over the sound of your racing heart beat, over his. Your eyes flash open in irritation, though not at him. Never at him.

"It's not midnight yet."

Given the circumstances, the weight of his hand on your back, how tantalizingly close he is, and the inexplicable gravity you've long since stopped denying, his growl actually elicits a laugh, pained as it is.

"Sadly even the most rebellious of us princesses still have curfews."

He groans in frustration, arms wrapping around you in a hug, his forehead dropping against your own. "Don't. I-" His eyes are meeting yours again, darkened by expanded irises and still nearly sparkling for how vibrant the red is. 

"Run away with me."

It's a whisper, a plea. It echoes through your entire heart and soul, that aching a crescendo of longing and adoration.You would give anything to stay with him, would follow him in a heartbeat.

But you have a family, a job, responsibilities. You can't abandon them, even at the risk of never seeing him again.

"I'm sorry," you force out, the agony resounding from every last inch of your soul. 

You never meant the words as much as you mean them now, your own heart breaking in your decision.

You step away from him, shedding his jacket and turning away.You know if you look at him, if you see his face, if you glance at his eyes once more time-

You manage five steps before he's choking out your name. You close your eyes at the pain in his voice, but it's not enough.

He's used your name, and the sound of it from his lips, the weight of it on your spirit, it's too much for you to resist.

You're turning again, once again struck by how devastatingly handsome he is right now, how much sway he already has over you. 

Every one of his approaching steps, each more confident than the last, is increasing the tempo of your heartbeat, filling you to the brim with anticipation.

It's ridiculous, impossible.

Yet you can't lie to yourself. Not about this.

"Please."

He's barely an arm's distance away from you now, hair haloed and features shadowed from the nearby sconces. And those damned eyes-

"N-"

He's murmuring your name again, slowly, hypnotically, shaping it as if he's savoring the flavor, enjoying how it feels. 

You really want to ignore the effect it has on you, but he's whispering it again, not giving you a moment's mercy. 

"Come with me."

You're powerless to resist.

"Yes." 

[uwua3]

Hello! Can you write something for Muku helping Juza impress his crush? Thank you!

thank you so much for requesting, anon !! i hope to make you proud with this piece ٩( >w< )و suddenly today, i was overcome with a charming concept for this prompt and i am so happy! please enjoy, and if you’d like a continuation, let me know!

summary: the crown prince ascending to the throne would be nothing without his number one advisor

warnings: arranged marriage, classism, disease, dueling, fear of touching, fighting, military, monarchy, parental deaths/issues, swords

author’s note: you know, no one said to do a royal au but here i am! this will be an enemies to lovers prompt, so please enjoy :D have fun, juza loves you !! ♡

word count: 6,220

music: eyes blue like the atlantic, pt. 2 – sista prod, powfu, alec benjamin, & rxseboy

the crown prince and his advisor.

🌻👑🍁🍰 sakisaka muku + hyodo juza

“absolutely not.”

it doesn’t take much for first in line, prince feared across many nations, and legend in the making, hyodo juza, to not cooperate with his royal court

an arranged marriage, was expectedly one of the things that made him incompetent

“ju–chan,” first advisor muku started, ignoring the snickers of the much older men around him at the childhood nickname and juza’s sudden flustered expression, “you would be a fool to not agree to this arrangement.”

“me? the fool?!” juza huffed, his voice on the verge of raising as he narrowed his eyes at his cousin with the sharp threat of a death sentence. muku sighed, knitting his eyebrows together as he patiently tapped his fingers upon the round table

(leave it to his older, much more influential, and wealthier cousin to be incredibly difficult to work with)

“yes, you know akizakura is the rising power this century. they’re challenging societal norms and making every other monarchy uneasy with their progressiveness. you and them together would have a shocking power play over every single nation on this map.”

muku used his feather quill to refer to the aged map laid out, gesturing as if to say “this could all be yours if you played your cards right”. juza was about to fight back, but bit his tongue, nearly slouching in his seat to contemplate before straightening with muku’s pointed glare

(seriously... juza was the older one?)

“i have no desire to be a dictator.” juza finally spat, turning his head away towards the window and closed his eyes. the rest of the court bristled at this bold, unambitious statement but muku solemnly nodded

after all, it was the dying king’s one true goal to conquer all, not juza’s

“if i may say, prince juza, the heir to the throne—”

“i wish to hear nothing about this so called heir. they mean nothing to me.”

silence plagued the court, the somewhat out of touch yet logical advisors sharing disapproving looks of juza’s childish behavior. muku did his best not to roll his eyes at the crowd, instead plastering a neutral expression

it seemed like most of the times, the whole kingdom forgot juza was a child. just a boy suddenly forced to uphold his responsibilities with his father’s slow demise

“shall we reconvene tomorrow?” muku suggested, to which juza nodded. the court quickly went up and left, shooting curious and nosy glances at muku who remained in his seat. when everyone parted ways and the guard by the door confirmed there were no eavesdroppers, muku quietly pushed out his chair and moved to stand by his cousin’s side

for a while, no one said anything. until, juza’s tense posture slumped and he buried his face into his hands, trying his best to keep it all together even with no one to witness his defenses down

“i wish... father wasn’t so ill. i shouldn’t be here, i don’t want to be here.” juza declared, the words muffled by his palms. advisor muku gently placed a hand upon the crown prince’s shoulder, patting it slightly with a sympathetic tone to his words

“i know, i’m sorry. but, you will be a great king for the people of higanbana.”

before juza could ask how he knew for sure, muku just fixed the kingdom’s red spider lily pendant to make sure it was straight. it was the royal family’s heirloom, a universally recognized sign this was the son of a highly respected, pure bloodline

“ju–chan, have i ever led you astray?”

yes, many times, juza thought, reminiscing back on when they were kids. but, he didn’t say any of that, he instead shook his head solemnly

hyodo juza, first in line, prince feared across many nations, legacy in the making, was only eighteen when he would be coronated as king. the youngest king in all of higanbana history, all because his father was dying

and, he needed to secure his ascension through marriage to a complete stranger

but rest assured, muku, number one advisor, cousin to the crown prince, wise beyond all, was surprisingly relentless. becoming the new upcoming king’s right hand man had changed him for the better, preventing him from letting his insecurity and indecisiveness show its true colors

sure, he was still the scared coward who screamed unlike a man and didn’t have the natural class of royalty, but putting on a front was worth it to save juza from losing all support inside and out

the abrupt news that the oldest son of the hyodo family was soon to be hailed as king was, a surprise, to the townsfolk. many who were comfortable and simply used to king hyodo’s reign were not vocally against it, luckily enough. it was more a thing to gossip about than anything, but the royal family never particularly enjoyed the rumor mill

unfortunately, being coronated as a... single king was a pressing matter to all of the people, apparently. no king in history just rose to power without an influential and powerful partner by their side, it would leave vulernability due to the limited allies

especially what would remain of them, considering some kingdoms may break ties with the hyodos since juza and his father were... very different people

so, as said before, muku was relentless. continously insisting that this marriage contract was the best possible option for juza, that no other heir could even come close. juza didn’t want to believe it even if it was true, considering his stubborn nature

it took many, many bribes of tea parties and constant challenging duels for him to admit defeat

it was perhaps a tiring match that afternoon before juza exhaled sharply through his nose, moving to sheath his sword as he waved the white flag. muku, also surprisingly quick and agile on his feet with a weapon, managed to suppress a “told you so” grin at the look of exasperation

“fine, fine! i’m tired of fighting—” juza was not a major fan of dueling whatsoever, even if he was blessed with the physical proportions to do so easily

before muku could jump up in relief, juza sent a stern glare with no malice towards his cousin’s way. the sword hit the sheath, making a loud cutting noise throughout the empty, private training grounds

“but, i want to meet them first. then, i’ll decide to marry or not.”

muku knew this was the best he was going to get, and had the private secretary immediately pen a letter toward’s akizakura. shortly afterwards, a request for the heir to visit was accepted

you were also first in line, an intimidating but just political figure, and also a legend in the making. you were the talk of the town, to say the least

but, you sure didn’t feel like it

you anxiously tapped your foot, feeling seasick from how long this boat journey had already been. you had been invited by the higanbara kingdom to “visit” to “discuss political alliances and ideas to better serve the people”, though anyone with a brain could see straight through that lie

your parents intended on promising you to some eighteen year old hyodo hotshot, someone you’ve never even met!

at first, you were extremely demanding for them to consider changing their minds, that you didn’t need... a man... to help you rule the world. men would only hold you back, they’d do nothing good for you, anyways!

but, you knew the future of akizakura was in your hands. your parents were strong, but slowly, their old age would catch up to them and they needed to protect the famly legacy. you were the next expected heir, considering how active you’ve been in the government since you could read and write

though, no one exactly stated a marriage contract came along with power

you didn’t exactly know what higanbara looked like, but you’ve heard... rumors, about the family that ruled it all. the hyodos were an imposing force, spreading their control far and wide with unfathomable military power and merciless tactics

you couldn’t imagine what the crown prince was like. how, barbaric, he must be. must’ve been an inhumane and unreasonable fighter that took everyones’ heads with him

lucky for you, you were a trained fighter as well who would never let a man even have a sliver of control over your dead body

“your royal highness, we are here in higanbara.” the captain announced, followed by the sound of the ship’s horn. thank the gods, or you might have swam there yourself considering how rocky sea travels were

fixing your appearance, you masked your face in a stone cold expression, showing you were all business without the supervision of your parents. you were your own person, you didn’t need to be ordered around by some man

as the ship reached port, you noticed a set of figures at the foggy dock. higanbara was... dismal. it was all shades of grey, like there was no life. the oceans were a glittering silver, as if there were thousands of treasures waiting to be discovered. and at the port, was a sight to behold

you stepped onto the creaky wood cautiously, looking around before you noticed a stoic face peering down at you. perhaps a beat too late from how much he was staring, he then offered his hand without ever saying a word

you ignored it, knowing you didn’t need it at all. but from the looks of it, they were calloused, scarred, large. hands of a warrior—his eyebrows rose slightly in surprise at your blatant rejection. before he could speak, you heard someone else introduce the kingdom

“your royal highness, welcome to higanbara!” you heard a gentle, but enthusiastic, voice from behind the tall man who helped you on land. you turned to see a rather short, pink–haired royal with a shaky but elegant smile. you couldn’t help but smile at the boy

(you didn’t notice juza’s subconcscious quirk of his lips at your guard coming down, before he looked away with his ears red and mind confused. why did he do that?)

“thank you...?” you trailed off, awaiting an introduction before the pink royal dropped into a hurried but somewhat graceful bow, coming up with a surprise rose. you had no idea where it came from, causing you to let out a surprised laugh. higanbara was filled with many surprises, apparently

“i am his royal highness’ first advisor, sakisaka muku, it is a pleasure.” muku smiled pleasantly, but you noticed his eyes lingered on the way you stood oddly close with the crown prince

you tried to step back casually as if there was nothing wrong, but you almost stumbled off the edge of the dock. unluckily, juza was fast and immediately wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you close as he froze under the sudden attention at your close proximity

“let go.” you demanded and your tone was ice cold like the waters

“please... be careful—” juza mumbled, his grip strong before you pushed him off, scowling with a sharp glare his way

“let go!” you yelled, drawing attention as you glared daggers at higanbara’s crown prince. you couldn’t believe it, did all men just think they could grip you like that? as if you needed help?!

“do not touch me, i did not give you permission.” you cursed, shocking nearly everyone as you brushed off your clothes. juza blinked, taken back before he frowned, his eyebrows furrowed

“but, if i hadn’t, you would’ve fell into the water—”

“then, let me fall! i can swim!”

when you met his eyes, he was very clearly frustrated. the awe of meeting you had worn off, and juza was certain he’d make an enemy out of your stubborn pride and rude attitude right off the bat

muku intervened, laughing awkwardly as if a newcomer didn’t just yell at higanbara’s crown prince. stepping between you two, he seemed to communicate something with his eyes to juza who suppressed the need to storm off

“i am first in line, crown prince hyodo juza. a... pleasure.” juza faltered, his tone superficial and void of any genuine pleasure. he bowed anyways, his back rigid and yellow eyes analyzing your every move. he must’ve been a battle tactician with how observant he was

you didn’t do anything back, just crossed your arms and averted your eyes. “i know who you are, you know who i am. can we move on?”

juza was about to impulsively snap back before muku agreed, staying between you two despite the common courtesy of trailing behind royalty. the guards set at the port parted on command, yelling back “yes sir!” at juza’s order to march back to the castle

was this a power move? to intimidate you and make you go in shock over juza’s military background? two could play at this game

you stood taller, ignoring his gaze as you hurried forward, not wanting to be beside the man who just randomly touched you without your consent. not to mention, the audacity to linger! how inappropiate!

juza stared after you, and looked over his shoulder towards muku, visually confused over how offstandish you were

muku just sighed. this was going to be a long, long two weeks of akizakura’s ascending heir in higanbara

it was an understatement to say you and juza got off on the wrong foot. you never allowed just anyone to touch you randomly out of no where. you weren’t some clumsy person in distress, you were a leading figure in your kingdom, for goodness sake! you easily could’ve fixed your footing, stood back up straight, and moved on

juza was rather peeved at your reaction. you didn’t even take his hand like a polite royal would! didn’t thank for him for saving you from the ocean and had the audacity to curse him out like he was some commoner in front of his own troops. juza felt embarrassed from how low he was treated, you had no respect for him or higanbara

muku, was tired. when other nobles whispered about how out of the ordinary and eccentric you were and how strange akizakura’s customs were, he didn’t expect having to save his crown prince from a near beating

you had guts and nerve, just like juza. maybe, you two had more than meets the eye, but unfortunately, both people were stubborn, prideful, and arrogant privileged kids who didn’t want to see the other side

so throughout the first half of your stay, muku felt more like a babysitter than an advisor. it took everything in his power to keep you two from physically fighting each other in front of the royal circle

you two seemed to disagree on everything. while you were an “all or nothing” type of pefson, who went extreme on every suggestion you had and was willing to risk everything for a better future, juza was... the opposite

unlike his bold and brash father who would’ve gotten along just fine with you, juza wanted new change. he was always playing the devil advocate, pointing out flaws you hadn’t taken account for before. but, he was hesitant, wanting to take it slow, and ease into the plan than go head first

it made both your tactics and strategies clash and nothing was getting done. but muku, wise and relentless muku, knew it was more than just childish arguments at the round table. it was the slowly building tension between you two ever since that one bad first impression

and perhaps, the intense pressure from both sides to accept this arranged marriage for the sake of both kingdoms. it was too much on teens savoring their last few years of youth

and just like before, muku knew what needed to happen in order for someone (most likely juza) to give up their defenses and say something

you elegantly strode into the training grounds early in the morning, holding the first advisor’s personal note in your hand as you looked around. you were scheduled to meet muku, in a neutral place to get the overview of today’s meeting without juza’s involvement

or, so you thought

you heard a scuff of shoes and a quick “damn, sakisaka” behind you. whipping around, you came face to face with a sleepy juza, who’s eyes immediately widened and took a few steps back. it seemed like you caught him off guard, and he held a similar note in his hand as well

it didn’t take a genius to figure out what muku had done, as you huffed and placed your hands on your hips. juza straightened his posture and looked down at you, expressing that he wished he could be anywhere but with you

“hyodo—” you started, to which juza pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “that’s my father, i’m juza.” you continued anyways, ignoring his sharp pointed look

“are you here to fight with me again? perhaps, make a fool of me again?” you accused, pointing a finger at his chest as seethed. juza rolled his eyes, visibily frustrated as he threw his hands up, planning his escape already

“i have no business with you here. i will depart now.” juza forced out in a neutral tone, as if you two hadn’t been at each other’s throats the past week. before juza could spin on his heel and take his leave, you grabbed a sword near by and the sound of it leaving its sheath made him stop in his tracks

“you. me. right now.” you demanded and juza let out a humorless laugh. you were in over your head if you could think you could beat a hyodo at a duel. looking at the sky, he noticed it would be quite a bit of time until the official start of his day as crown prince. maybe, he could spare a bit of time

“at your service, your royal highness.” juza mocked, obnoxiously bowing that made your eye twitch at how insufferable he was

“take your pick. regardless, you’ll lose by my hand.”

juza chose his normal practice sword, the hilt engraved with his name and bore the spider design of the red lily. it had the grandeur of being a ceremonial sword, which you scoffed at. ugh, rich kids

you took the one closest to you and juza expected you two would walk to the middle, circle each other to see who would make the first move. he should’ve known you weren’t exactly the waiting type, because the moment he stepped into the ring, you hit first

luckily, juza whipped his sword up and the metal clashed with yours, the sound echoing in the courtyard. that was the start of the longest duel juza’s ever had

used to muku’s dexterity, juza had to find out the hard way you were much more of a strength fighter. you took him by surprise most times, with forceful and somewhat vengeful attacks. yet, juza was a formidable opponent. he had learned from the best after all, and this was one of the few duels he had the goal to try at

you smirked when juza nearly lost his footing, not reaching out to catch him by any means and holding your hands up. “see, i respect people’s private space and don’t touch them without permission.”

juza swung back with much more force than normal, which you hurriedly parried. the contact of metal rang in your ears as juza gained the upper hand, looming over you with distaste

“you would’ve drowned if i let you fall!”

“you knew i didn’t take your hand for a reason, i refuse to let a man touch me!”

you pushed back but he was like a rock, unmoving and resilient. he seemed to contemplate something before putting his sword down, nearly sheathing it before stopping, making sure to meet your eye

“i’m sorry.”

you blinked, taken back. was that an apology? from a hyodo?

“i understand you have your reasonings to hate physical contact, and i respect that. by no means did i mean to make you uncomfortable.” juza explained, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders as he finally found a time to apologize properly

“i wouldn’t have touched you unless i knew it was for your own safety, i’m sorry.” juza finished and you thought about it, before putting your own sword down with a heavy sigh

“i’m... also sorry. i knew you had good intentions, but i blew up because...” you seemed to think some more before exhaling. “i don’t need a man to save me, don’t think i need you or anything. i’m a perfectly capable, independent person.”

juza related to how your pride blinded your anger, and nodded. you two seemed to reach a mutual understanding and juza ducked his head, lowering it so it’d be easier to talk to you away from the castle that was waking up

“i did not mean to insult your character. i’m sure you are a whole person who does not need saving, it was not my intention.”

without another word, you moved past him, acting as if you were going to put your weapon away. instead, you quickly knocked his sword out of his loose hands, smiling innocently as if nothing happened

“i believe i win.”

“a dirty play, mind you.”

“a win is a win.”

“a victory is nothing if not honorable.”

you looked over your shoulder with a curious look, as if you were really seeing juza for the first time. you expected a burly man who would burn down nations just for a taste of godhood. instead, he seemed humble, unlike a hyodo

“hyodo—”

“i’m not my father, i am juza.” juza repeated again, without the usual bite, and you suddenly understood why juza taking the throne was big news. he was nothing like his father, this would be the ushering of a new age

hopefully, a golden age

“juza,” you said for the first time and for once, he presented a close–lipped smile that seemed void of royal duties. “i look forward to dueling you again.”

“as do i.”

“do not expect to win.”

(first advisor muku held in his squeals on the balcony adjacent to the training grounds. he typically liked to sneak up there to read and prepare for the day, but he was hiding this time to eavesdrop. looks like his plan worked!)

(when juza looked up to meet his eyes, he looked as if he knew all this time. muku nervously smiled and waved slowly, to juza’s hidden relief that he made progress)

(but... why was he so happy to see you weren’t holding a grudge against him anymore? did your opinion truly mean that much?)

the round table was much more, productive. muku liked to take credit for the riveting debates that replaced the senseless arguments, finding that both you and juza had similar goals at the end of the day, just different tactics

although there were still some very inappropiate comments here and there by your mouth, it didn’t seem personal anymore. it was clear to the court that you were intelligent, bright, and offered new perspective that no one else considered. they all knew akizakura was a force not to be reckoned with

by then, a week had passed, and it was time for the welcoming ball!

you would be introduced to the rest of the castle through a rather lame excuse to party. you knew what all of the glamarous charades and rich pleasantries were really all about, to assess if akizakura was worthy of taking their beloved crown prince’s hand. you could’ve laughed, because that was a major joke

you didn’t need to do anything, you knew you already were above and beyond what they expected. so that night as you insisted on preparing your appearance alone, you were slightly annoyed to hear a knock on your guest chambers

“go away! i said—”

“your royal highness, this is crown prince juza’s first advisor, sakisaka muku.”

you paused, looking away from the mirror and relented, letting him come in. when muku silently stepped inside and closed the door gently, he bowed with newfound confidence and sent you an easy smile that made you feel at ease

you understood why juza would want muku around, he didn’t seem like that dependable of a guy, but he was a good person through and through

“sakisaka, i remember you. you were the one who misled me to duel juza.” you said, giving him an once over before fixing your hair, staring back into the mirror. out of the corner of your eye, you noticed muku blush and he resorted to laughing awkwardly unprompted

“ah... yes—”

“and you were the one hiding in the balcony, correct?”

muku’s eyes widened, how did he get caught?! he thought only juza noticed. it was no wonder how you were such an equal match to higanbara’s crown prince, you had the same strengths and few weaknesses

“please, you do not give me enough credit.” you hummed in response, standing up and approving your final look of the day. you would wear akizakura’s kingdom colors, with the crest pinned. it would leave no question who you represented and where your loyalties lied

muku rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a breathy “haha” as the silence overcame. you slipped your kingdom ring on, watching it glint in the subtle candle light

“though, i must thank you, shouldn’t i?” you spoke in rhetorics often, muku realized. he waited for you to continue and you did, busying yourself with cleaning up your station. you had no need of maids even if you respected the profession

“without you, i wouldn’t have gotten an apology out of him. now, we’re...” you trailed off, unsure on how to finish that statement. muku hid his teasing smile, masking it as something innocent as he gratefully bowed his head, his white–gloved hand over his heart

“friends?”

you didn’t answer, instead standing tall and turning to completely face muku. he didn’t look you in the eye, but he too increased his height as if to match your authority. he was admirable for at least trying

“i must say, first advisor, juza is most fortunate to have you clean up his messes.” you half–joked, and muku nodded, agreeing seriously even if it was in jest

“however, i can promise you this. if you must contact me, do not trick me. i will not be as merciful.”

a shiver ran down muku’s spine. you truly were next in line of ruthless akizakura. but, it was a sign of respect, nonetheless. everyone was fully aware of how outstanding and remarkable you were to be the voice of the new generation

“understood, your highness. i did not come to deceit you, only to greet my cousin when he arrives.”

you tilted your head. this was news—no one could exactly tell muku and juza were cousins. really? the same bloodline?

“are you serious?”

“we get that reaction a lot.” you heard juza’s voice behind the door and you subconsciously broke your stern expression, rolling your eyes as you crossed your arms. muku noticed your shoulders dropped ever so slightly, you must’ve been comfortable around juza, then

“come in already, don’t be a creep.” you called out and juza stepped inside, stopping at the sight of you. instantly, his cheeks became flushed and he seemed like he was about to do something incredibly stupid (which he did, amused muku did not stop him)

“you—um, you, you look... nice.”

nice? you looked absolutely amazing, you already knew that. you were going to be the best dressed in the entire ballroom, that’s for sure

(but, for some reason, you were disappointed. nice? was that all you were to him? wait—why did you care?! a man’s validation of your appearance was the last thing you needed)

muku was this close to intervening before you huffed, patting down your outfit. “do i suddenly have value because i look nice?” you air–quoted “nice” and juza got even redder, looking away as if to save his dignity

“no, no. your worth isn’t based on your looks.” juza reassured and you knew he meant it. you relaxed a bit, thankful juza didn’t have the same intentions as every royal noble out there ever. muku’s eyes bounced back from you and juza continously, picking up on the signs with increasing interest

he had never seen juza slip up this much around someone before... could it be? did he actually like you now?

“look at the time! i must go help with the preparations, come down soon.” muku lied, which juza caught on fairly quickly. before he could call muku to come back, the young advisor sliped out of the chambers and ran to the main event. he succeeded in leaving you and juza alone

an uncomfortable silence set over both of you as juza examined your room out of curiousity, and you tapped your foot. you were confused, what was this feeling inside your chest? why were you suddenly so nervous?

if you were confused, you didn’t let it show on your face. instead, juza offered his arm, holding it out to you with no threat at all as he gestured his chin towards the ballroom

“would you do me the honor of letting me escort you to the ball?”

you stared at his arm, the arm you noticed was slightly shaking, whether from nerves or holding it out too long, who knew. as much as you hated to admit it, you wouldn’t want any other person escorting you

with a turn of events, you took juza’s arm and felt it tense before relaxing, giving you a chance to let go any time. he put on a rare smile, and you liked how his yellow eyes crinkled at the corners when he did

“thank you.” for trusting me, for changing your opinion about me, for giving me a chance even if i don’t deserve it, juza thought, but it was all unsaid

“sure.” you responded, but you smiled, too. it was the first time you had given him such a genuine smile, that he couldn’t help but do the same

you two moved to stand at the top of the stairs, awaiting the announcement of both your names. in the mean time, you realized juza wasn’t the hyodo you thought he was

as he escorted you down the stairs, with everyone’s eyes on you two, you two were the splitting image of graceful and threatening intimidation and power. but, it didn’t feel like that. instead, it was just you and juza, a crown prince who had a nasty temper and natural hand at sword dueling

the ball seemed to last a lifetime. so many unnecessary introductions which you put a front on. social interaction was draining, it was becoming a difficult task to shake everyone’s hands and pretended like you cared about rich people problems

so, like every celebration ever, you escaped the main event and stepped into the hyodo rose garden. mostly hues of orange, you noticed the eternal autumn that hung over the kingdom. oranges and reds entranced you as you sat at the edge of the water fountain in the middle, the constant stream distracting you from the background party noise

(“where are they?” juza asked, pulling wallflower muku aside who mainly stood by the buffet table to hide extra sweets for his cousin. muku smiled, his eyes sliding in the direction of the rose garden as juza caught on. though, juza seemed hesitant, like he was worried if he should go or not)

(“do not be a fool, ju–chan. what other time will you have to confess?” muku asked and juza nearly choked on his champagne glass, shooting a wide–eyed look at his cousin. it was as if he was asking how did he know?)

(“this is your first crush, isn’t it? luckily, the person you intend on marrying.” muku lightheartedly jested, to which juza bumped his shoulder into his slightly. “like i said, do not be a fool, ju–chan. go.”)

(juza contemplated it before nodding, slipping out of mind and out of sight. muku proudly raised his glass after him, as if to say congratulations. all that gossip with the town cupid paid off for muku, his crown prince would be hopelessly pining without him)

(all he needed to do was one last thing. first advisor made his way towards the orchestra, about to request a song)

you watched the moonlight for quite a time before you heard a rustle of leaves towards the entrance, turning your head to see juza. juza, in his orange and black uniform and red spider lily pendant. juza looked dashing beneath the stars, as he waited for you to invite him

you moved aside and juza sat down at a safe distance, stargazing along with you. the silence was comfortable, this time around. it was filled with glasses clinking together, the everpresent buzz of crickets, and flow of the water fountain

unlike your initial thoughts, you didn’t exactly mind higanbara as much as you thought you would

“the ball, is a bit much.” juza admitted, to which you agreed. “tell me about it, i don’t know how you lasted that long.” you said lightheartedly, but it seemed to make juza think as he leaned back, balancing himself by stretching his hands out on the rim of the fountain

“i... i don’t like balls, really. my father always liked them, he was the life of the party.” you noticed juza used the past tense even if his father was still alive, but you knew not for long

“he was also, born to be king. could command a whole army without fail, delivered inspiring speeches that could get the whole town riled up, was the face of his kingdom. now...”

“it’s you.”

juza nodded, as if accepting this fact for the first time. it was as clear as the full moon that night��juza was afraid he could never live up to the legacy his father would soon leave behind

“i don’t want to be king.” juza confessed in a whisper, like it could change anything. you wanted to be a monarch, but you understood juza’s struggles. he must’ve missed out on a normal childhood, like every other person born into nobility

“but, i care for the people of higanbana. i will do my best to make them proud, and to continue the legacy of this kingdom.” juza continued, clenching his fists as he did so. you turned your head to see he looked lighter, like it was something weighing him down ever since he found out

“you’ll be a good king. i have seen your plans, and you are unlike your father. you will be better.”

juza turned to stare into your eyes, searching for any sign of lies. you were telling the truth, and you were shocked at how honest you just were. but, you believed it. you believed in juza and his legacy, the incoming new golden age would arrive

“thank you, i—your people are lucky to have you.” juza said, but he seemed distant. before he could lean in, you heard the soft playing of the orchestra from far, far away

this time, you stood up and offered your hand. unlike last time however, juza accepted your hand and it was true. both your hands were calloused, scarred, large. so the two warriors wordlessly slow danced under the moonlight in the rose garden to their new favorite song

that night, juza may have not said it out loud, but both of you were too observant and smart for your own good. as he walked you to your chambers, you were the one who leaned in this time

“is this a dirty play?” you teased, inches away from his lips. juza gulped as he admired your face illuminated by the lanterns

“a win is a win.”

it was all fair, in the game of love

your two weeks had passed. it was time for you to go home, back to akizakura to make your final decision of whether to marry a hyodo or not

you let juza help you into the boat even if you didn’t need it, and said goodbye to the grey higanbana and it’s forever autumn. there was no one around since juza requested a private departure, so you let yourself smile at him

“will i see you again?” juza asked the question that had been weighing on his mind ever since that night in the rose garden. you were on the ship, but didn’t let go of his hand

“do not be a fool, juza,” you started roughly, and juza could feel his heart drop. was this the end? he didn’t want this to be the last time, he liked you

“next time, you’ll go to akizakura. there, we can duel.”

“and i’ll win.” juza confirmed and you let go, fondly rolling your eyes. as the ship departed, you suddenly rushed to the edge, cupping your hands around your mouth

“tell sakisaka i said thank you!”

of course, you found out about everything. juza just nodded and waved, watching you disappear into the horizon

juza would await your invitation to akizakura as he practiced his dueling skills with a certain matchmaker named sakisaka muku

[indiavolojones]

also a long... long time ago someone asked me for an artist!mc wanting to draw satan. I still 100% want to do it, but here’s a little placeholder in the meantime!!

Satan intensely examines the framed work in front of him--you think that it might be some kind of… statement on fertility? There’s definitely a feminine figure in the garish swathes of puke green. Maybe. Could also be a peanut. If you squint and tilt your head, it kind of looks like an animal? 

You’ve never had an eye for this sort of thing, only agreeing to come because Satan had invited you.

hope u guys don’t mind i completely veered off the request path.. but here’s something short!!

1.3kish words, gen, satan/gender neutral!mc 

~~~

“Mammon would be furious if he knew he missed you like this,” he grins, bowing and holding his hand out. 

The outfit is… fancier than anything you’ve ever really worn in front of the brothers. It’s perfectly tailored to your body thanks to Asmo, the vest cinched at your waist like one of Lucifer’s. It accentuates the slight curve of your waist, enticingly settling at the small of your back. 

Your brows raise at the outstretched hand, before rolling your eyes and snorting at the gesture. Satan looks like he expects you to playfully bat his hand away with some flustered complaint. To his surprise, you take his hand, and lace your fingers with his. 

Satan’s eyes widening is a sweet reward in itself. 

-

-

-

The art exhibit Satan takes you to is far fancier than Satan had led you to believe, so with each passing devil appraising you, you’re glad you let Asmo guide you into his closet for an outfit upgrade. 

Satan is dressed in a casual sports jacket and fitted slacks, but his natural good looks and the undeniable power radiating off him would have made him a knockout even if he was wearing a tracksuit. (Maybe. That actually sounds hilarious.)

You fiddle with the hem of the vest, at the quintessential, billowy-sleeved Asmo shirt he’d paired with it. You look like you belong in a fantasy novel as a princely character, but perhaps that’s what Asmo intended. If you had any doubts about how different your outfits are, the worries are blown out of the water by the sheer chaos of Devildom “high fashion”.   

Besides, Satan seems to like it, if his constant gentle touches mean anything.  

By comparison to the eccentric shades of Devildom fashion (some more... daring than others...), the art itself is nothing exciting. Once you’ve sipped enough champagne to calm your nerves, you realize that the art is actually... 

Terrible. 

You’ve seen some god-awful art up in the human realm, but it’s almost comforting to know that there are also snobby devil artists with bad technique and signatures as big as their egos. But… Satan likes it? You think. 

You’re not quite sure, honestly, and you don’t want to offend him by saying anything negative. He stares at every framed work with an intensity that would burn through the canvas if looks could kill. Sometimes it’s a few seconds, sometimes several minutes, but Satan will nod once he’s finished appraising the canvas, and then move on to the next one.

Almost without fail, he will place his hand on your waist or the small of your back and lead you to another… suspect… painting.

Satan intensely examines the framed work in front of him --you think that it might be some kind of… statement on fertility? There’s definitely a feminine figure in the garish swathes of puke green. Maybe. Could also be a peanut. If you squint and tilt your head, it kind of looks like an animal? You’ve never had an eye for this sort of thing, only agreeing to come because Satan had invited you. 

“This isn’t your kind of date,” Satan states, and you jump, looking at him with cinched brows. 

“I never said that--” Satan rolls his eyes.

“You’ve spent more time looking at me than at the art.” 

You’re a work of art is the infantile comeback that comes to mind, but you don’t have the strength to be so bold or cheesy. Crossing your arms sheepishly, you look anywhere but at him. 

“I… You seemed interested, and I didn’t want to tell you no?” You admit, and Satan sighs, like he’s not sure what he’s going to do with you. “Did you…” You fumble over the words, “Did you like this one?” 

Satan blinks as he looks at you, his head tilted. Huffing with amusement at what he finds in your expression, he shakes his head. He looks back at the painting and squints at it. 

“Honestly, no. It’s gaudy, the technique is terrible, and I’m sure the artist was drunk the entire time. There’s Demonus stains in the corner here.” he groans, pointing at the out-of-the-ordinary purple splotches that don’t match any of the other materials used. You can’t help the glee that fills your chest at Satan admitting that he also thinks these works are absurd--there’s relief as well. 

You’re not sure if you’d be able to stand another hour of this. 

“Why would anyone buy this?” You ask, and Satan looks at you helplessly. 

“I have no idea. Art is subjective, but most modern art makes me furious,” Satan says, shoulders shrugging, “Sometimes I try to stop and really, really look at the piece. Usually that works. I suppose if I bend over backwards, I can start to maybe piece together whatever asinine meaning the artist intended.” 

“What if you end up still hating it?” you question. Satan huffs. 

“Then I buy it,” Satan’s gaze shifts to look at you from the corner of his eyes, and he can’t help his wicked smirk, “And I use it for kindling.”

“What?” you ask, eyebrows cinched together. Satan holds his hands up noncommittally, and you shake your head with a fond, disbelieving laugh, “You’re terrible.” 

“You think so? Let’s just get on with the second part of our date. I think you’ll enjoy it much more,” Satan hums, and before you have a chance to ask, he’s looking out into the crowd. 

“Malphas!” Satan calls, and waves a hand over at a timid looking demon in an older suit. 

The demon, Malphas, shuffles over with a toothy smile--it was far too easy for Satan to get his attention in this crowd. Was the demon waiting for Satan to call him over? He shakes hands with Satan, grabbing the brother by the forearm in an enthusiastic greeting.  

“Satan! I’m glad you could make it,” he rasps, a row of sharp, tiny teeth in the demon’s mouth bared in what you think is a smile. 

“No, thank you for the invite.” Satan is charming--you’ve always thought so, but to watch him interact with anyone not you or his own family is an interesting change of pace. Malphas seems to be tripping over himself to gain Satan’s approval, even as his beady black eyes flicker between the two of you. Satan gestures at you with one hand, placing the other hand on the small of your back. 

You flush at the contact.

“Malphas, this is our human exchange student,” Satan says your name, and you extend a hand out to him. Malphas blinks down at your hand, as if it will burn him, and you realize that with how little you know of demons.  

Even if you forget when you’re amidst the brothers, there are quite a few devils who are hesitant about Diavolo’s integration ideals. You trust that Satan would never let you come to any harm from them, though. Malphas coughs, but then he’s bringing a small, clawed hand up to yours. His skin is clammy, and a strange texture, but you both manage the handshake under Satan’s careful watch. 

At the civilized shaking of your hands, Satan beams, “Malphas is the gallery owner. He invites me to shows for up-and-coming artists, and I attend when I can.” The brothers often comment on Satan’s popularity, with varying reactions of disbelief and envy, but getting to live it is a whole other experience in itself.

"Listen, Malphas," Satan points at the painting in front of you, "I'd like to buy this painting." Satan winks at you from the corner of his eyes, and you glance at the demon to see if he noticed Satan's wink. Malphas, however, only wrings his hands together and lets out a pleased growl, nodding his head. "Bill it to my account."

"Excellent choice, my lord," he chirps, almost like a bird, "I will get this prepared for you immediately!" 

Malphas skitters off, leaving Satan smiling at you and you staring at him in utter confusion. The hand on the small of your back slides to your waist, and Satan’s holding you close to his side--the mere concept of Satan buying this shitty painting is still enough of a distraction that you don’t immediately burst into flames at it. The opulence of this gallery opening also screams expensive. Satan hadn’t even asked for the price? You have so many questions. 

"But this… is awful?" You ask, trying to picture where the hell Satan would hang this. Its bright colors don't match the interior of his bedroom at all; if Satan were to hang this, you'd never be able to not see it. 

Another mischievous quirk of his lips, and realization dawns on your face. 

Oh.

-

-

-

Satan has an interesting definition of fun. 

Something about the ingredients inside the paint used on Devildom works causes a spectacular chemical reaction. You wonder how many poor portraits have fallen prey to Satan’s sadism--but remembering the work itself, you’re not particularly bothered.  

Ashes and paint dirty the sleeves of Asmo’s shirt and you worry about getting the stains out, but then Satan’s sidling up behind you... and you’re sure Asmo will forgive you if you compliment him enough! Probably!

Satan’s height allows him to rest his chin on your shoulder as you both stare into the makeshift bonfire, his arms wrapped loosely around your center.

“I thought you were joking,” you snort as the bright red smoke billows up into the Devildom sky. 

Satan’s hot puff of laughter tickles the hair by your ear. 

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Love, Maybe? {43}

Chris Evans X Reader OFC Vixen Giovanni

Warning: Cursing, Heavy Angst

Word Count: 2K

Summary: After a night of drunkenness you wake up next to warm, hot as hell body, a migraine and no memory of the night before. When you come to realize that the hot body belongs to none other than Hollywood’s golden boy Chris Evans you freak out. As events unfold you become even more panicked to find out you got married in your drunken haze. What else is there to do but get it annulled, right? Before walking away, you share one more night of molten kisses and passion. Three years later you are still living with the repercussions of your brash decisions, but the surprises don’t stop there. The past has a way of coming back and have you questioning is this fate that you’ve been running from, hell could it have been love, maybe?

NOTE: **Italic texts is an inner Vixen thought. Bold Italic texts is an inner Chris thought. 

**Loosley Edited/Proofread**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 41:  Life Goes On

-Chris-

 That was the end of it. What do you do when the woman you married for fun turns out to be the woman of your dreams, the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with decides she doesn’t want to spend her life with you because of something you’d done? How do you move on and not be completely destroyed when you saw her? How do you be around her and still be the good guy? After five days out of town back in Boston, he still hadn’t figured it out.

 That line they use and say space gives your perspective and helps heal wounds was a crock of shit. He was more than a thousand miles away from you but still, he was hurting. Every day seemed to intensify the pain he felt. He thought of you all day, dreamt of you, and in between that he tried to pretend he was fine. Everyone around him knew he wasn’t fine. They all knew but no one spoke a word about it. He was grateful for it.

 His mood was shit, his behavior was shit and his work ethic was also shit. He didn’t give a shit about anything no matter how he tried. He tried over time to not be angry with you, not resent you or even hate you and for the most part, it was working. He didn’t hate you, he couldn’t he realized that months ago. That’s what made it so hard. It would have been easier on him to hate you; it would probably have helped with the pain he felt but he couldn’t bring himself to it.

 So, he had to figure out a way to be neutral around you. He had to figure out a way to accept his reality, a reality that didn’t include you in his life in the capacity he wanted. He had to come to terms that the only role that mattered right now was father. By the time he accepted that he devised a plan to focus on that, focus on Ella. He worked to mentally and emotionally be prepared to be the best father he could, the father Ella deserved.

MSG: I’d like to spend some time with Ella, if possible.

 A few minutes passed with no response. With every second his angst grew.

 MSG Vixen: Sure. Tell me when and I’ll make it happen.

MSG: I should be back in town tomorrow. So, maybe I can spend lunch with her?

MSG Vixen: Yeah sounds good. I’ll have Nexus prepared. Text her when you’re ready.

 He should have known you would hand it off to Nexus. You were avoiding him just as much as he was avoiding you.

 MSG: Perfect.

 He had no idea how he’d get through eighteen years of this, better yet, the rest of his life.

 -Vixen-

If you fell apart over a few text messages how were you going to keep it together face to face? In the span of a week, you’d barely been able to keep it together. You focused on work and finishing the smaller details for the restaurant. Smaller details such as promo, publicity, interviews the things you hated. The paps were still running wild with the news of your and Chris’ situation. They hadn’t calmed down or slowed down with the narratives they spun.

 One day the plausible theory was you were a gold digger who saw an opportunity, planned on it and pounced. They suspected you were the mechanics behind the motion to marry and even trapped him by purposely getting pregnant. Then the next day the hypothesis was the two of you were head over heels in love and got swept up in the moment and kept your marriage secret because Chris was ashamed of you because you were a nobody, and so far beneath him. In the span of a week, you’d heard so many possible narratives it was insane.

 When you nor Chris made an effort to make a statement to confirm, deny or acknowledge the state of things then the viciousness began. They tried to paint you as the one who didn’t belong and would hurt him then when they brought up your race it drove you crazy. They wondered how in the world you got together said there was no indication Chris liked women like you. The fixation on your race was incredible, it shocked you, but it shouldn’t have. Chris was vocal with shutting down race talks and even went off a few times on some paps who just wouldn’t show any respect. It was a kind gesture one part of you appreciated but the other part hated feeling like you needed rescuing. You didn’t.

 The more promo you did the more paps followed you. It was a tough adjustment, it still seemed highly invasive and creeped you out when you saw cars following you for a picture, or camped outside the restaurant or even when they found you doing normal things. It had gotten to the point where Kassius found it necessary to higher security for you no matter how much you protested. It was a rude awakening and another reason for you to hurry up and get the hell out of town. You were desperate for your real world, your normal life.

 MSG Nexus: I’m here at his house. Do you want me to just leave them?

 “You have to trust him with her at some point, right?”

 You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

 MSG: You can leave them if you want. I have to trust him with her at some point.

MSG Nexus: Wow, okay. I’ll let you know.

You continued your work while keeping one eye on your phone. Ten minutes passed, then a message came in.

 MSG Nexus: He asked me to stay. So we’re here at his house, having lunch. Ttyl.

  -Chris-

God, she looked even bigger. It had been weeks since he saw her. He knew he missed her but didn’t fathom how much. The minute she saw him she wriggled free from Nexus’ arms into his. It felt good. From then she chattered and chattered never slowing or letting him get a word in. Since meeting her he’d gotten pretty good at understanding what she meant. For nearly forty minutes she didn’t want to be put down, she just wanted him to hold her and it was just fine by him. He could hold her the rest of his life and it wouldn’t be enough.

 Across the way he saw Nexus scrolling through her phone occasionally while watching him. She barely spoke three words to him; he knew she was holding in quite a lot. He deserved her silent treatment; he didn’t debate it. He also didn’t know what to say to her, so he said nothing. He was tired, plain and simple.

 They ate together and he watched as Ella acted silly. She was showing her sense of humor and he loved it. She was as silly and goofy as him. You were right she was a tiny replica of him. It was interesting looking at a walking, talking, breathing version of yourself, a smaller one. It filled him with pride that he could have had a part in creating her. Out of everything he’d ever done, this—she was the only good and right thing.

 “I can’t stand the tension anymore.”

 “What tension?” Nexus looked innocent and clueless.

 “You are just like her, able to pretend and fake things that others cannot,” he informed.

 “She is the master; I am but the apprentice.” He smirked and nodded.

 “I’ll take that. I’ve always liked you Nexus. There is something about you that comes off as down to earth, kind, someone that is--.”

 “Easily lied to?” He nodded then rubbed the back of his neck. She was right.

 “I deserve that. I’m sorry.”

 Nexus took a deep breath and released it. “You don’t. You didn’t fuck up my life. You just fucked up hers.”

 “I did and I—regret it more than you’ll ever know. There is nothing I can say that’ll make it okay.”

 “How do you plan on making it okay?”

 He studied her, it was clear she either didn’t know what had happened in the last week or she didn’t think it mattered.

 “There is no making it right, I’ve accepted that. Look, I don’t want to rehash things. To be honest I am tired of the back and forth of this. It’s been one hell of a couple weeks. I can’t keep doing this. It’s hard, tiring, painful.”

 He didn’t realize he was babbling until he noticed Nexus was staring at him. She looked as if she were studying him trying to understand the inner workings of his mind.

 “Thank you for bringing Ella by. I really missed her.”

 “No problem. I understand. That kid of yours is easy to miss,” Nexus responded.

 He stared at Ella as she played in the playroom he’d had designed. She looked like she loved it. How could she not? He’d put everything imaginable in there, it was a kid’s dream.

 “She is.”

 “Can I give you one word of advice on Vixen?”

 He sighed but didn’t answer for a few moments. He then nodded.

 “Never let her decide where you go. If you do that you won’t go anywhere. Her instinct is not geared toward connection, she loves her freedom, and any threat to it is met like a hostile invasion. She feels a lot more than she lets on.”

 He scoffed and shook his head. He’d always thought there was way more going on inside you than you let on. He’d tried to figure you out, but you were always wearing a mask even when you weren’t.

 “Well, she’ll have her freedom in no time. The divorce will be final in three months give or take.”

 He stood and went over to Ella, reminding himself that she was his priority, his most important role.

 After saying goodbye to Ella that evening he made a visit to his lawyers.

“It’s a good thing you came by Chris, I wanted to go over a few things. Have you and Vixen spoke about what you intend to do?”

 “Uh, a little bit. I’m not here to talk about that though. I wanted to come by and just state some things. Sherman, I know you understand me as a person and know what I value and what I stand for. Max, you’re new to this team and I don’t hold anything against you, I just need you to grasp who I am as a person. Until then I want Sherman to take point with all of my legal matters.”

 Max looked floored. “Even with what he did to get you in this predicament?”

 “Yes. I trust him. So, if you don’t like it then there’s the door.” Max didn’t speak, he just sat and listened.

 “Good. So to begin no matter where this leads, I want you both to know that I don’t want anything from her. Nothing at all. Whatever she had three years ago is hers, and everything she earned and accomplished since is solely hers.”

 “Okay, that’s admirable. What about when it comes to you?”

 “If she wants half give it to her. If it comes up and she wants to go after anything I own split it in the middle. I want this to be easy.”

 “What!” Max was on his feet. “Chris, that’s insane. You’re worth millions. You’re really going to sacrifice half of that to some woman you married on a whim?”

 “Yes.” It was a plain answer, one that was so simple it ended the discussion.

 “I’ll handle it, Chris,” Sherman informed.

 “Good. Also, regarding Ella, our daughter, I don’t want to go after custody, not even joint. Right now, there’ll be a lot for her to get used to and I don’t want to cause more damage than necessary. We’ll take it slow. I just want to be able to see her for a few hours when I’m able to in San Francisco. I just want access, Sherman.”

 Max didn’t look like he approved but he sat silently.

 “Got it, Chris. I’ll relay it to her council.”

 “Thanks. You know how to reach me.” He stood and walked out the door. He really didn’t care anymore about everything he had before. He was seeing the world a whole lot differently now.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

@airis-paris14 @thiccdaddy-mbaku @wakandas-vibranium @wakanda-inspired @theunsweetenedtruth @ashanti-notthesinger @reignsxjackson @halfrican-heat @ambthegamer @simplyyamberr  @muse-of-mbaku @sisterwifeudaku @mejustme06  @ilcb7 @leahnicole1219  @destinio1 @maliadestiny @drsunshine97 @blowmymbackout @purplehairgawdess @thehuntoyobun @wakandamama @wakandawinning @profilia @zxddy-panther @h-challa @babygirlofwakanda @misswakanda2018 @ororowrites@hutchj @myfavemarvelfanfics @lavitabella87 @afraiddreamingandloving @autumn242 @purple-apricots @skysynclair19 @hersheyskissesss-blog @blue-ishx @90sinspiredgirl @tchallaswife @tchallamakesmeh0lla @turn-thy-paige @blackchickfics @blackpantherismyish @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @naturally-bri @flawlesslybeautiful14 @qweentbh@lunaerly @theoutereffect@twilight-sapphire-lover @pupyluv247 @stark-red19 @cockyboysandsugarism@maverickabull @madbadsiren @aykanna @myaw731 @ruruly20 @mixedmelanin @brittyevans @bezzywazhere@laketaj24  @soulsparker @theresnomoregoodones @syreanne@loveandcigarillos @heyauntieeee @heybriheyyy @wakanda-bcth @uhlxis  @maliadestiny @dadinhas-heat @yaachtynoboat711 @geeksareunique @bultalongthewayside @ajspencer1892 @captiansaveasmut @imaginewhoever @terrablaze514 @starsshines-blog @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @darkandlovely94 @sithlordslut @wavyyc @naturalistamisslyn @nigarachi15 @madamslayyy @blackandfair @kreolemami @mylastnameisthe-fish @kaykay0829@chaneajoyyy @tequilajay27 @blacklotus-of-the-black-kingdom @slimmiyagi @im5ftbutmythroat66 @jaeee-http@madhatterhelsing @sunflowerpsalms @wakanda-shit-is-that @deliciousstreetkidcroissant @jecourt @vebner37 @disneysdarlingdiva @melaninmarvel @alanastormborn@dolphinpink310 @yourwonderbelle  @ohleucothea @queentearra @bitchbetterhavemydinner @fentybabyy @kaykay4454fan @priya212 @kitkit1690 @chrismarcs @beautycomesindifferentformsworld @blackpantherimagines @ovohanna24 @sweetpeachjones @kslo000 @nubian-queen18 @omgsuperstarg  @airis-paris14 @sisterwifeudaku   @mejustme06 @ilcb7 @leahnicole1219 @destinio1 @drsunshine97  @blue-ishx @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @prettyprincessushio @treeondrea  @ursapharoh05  @blackpinup22 @kaytauru @big3gocandykahn @kissingpineapples @wildaboutchrisevans   @fitfineandstayingalive @misspooh @michele-onel @gorjiss @blacklotus-of-the-black-kingdom @muva-milaje @limbo-limbo-limbo @awkwardlyabstract @blxck-brxndie  @meeky-imagines @inlovewith3 @metalarmlover @mellowjellow6 @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @thatrandomhetaliachick @missdeerstalker15 @ursapharoh05 @treeondrea @ovohanna24 @marvelheaux @romanceoftheeveryday @mufasathatniggatho @cltex84 @sweetbearcolorgarden @msincognito67 @mosagram @lunaerly @mar-ta-3 @ljstraightnochaser @lewatigress @akimi-youngblood @bekahdean87 @jasmindaughteroftheworld @cocooned-butterfly @emoniclark22 @chereedrop619 @theblulife @niggarachi15 @drsunshine97 @msincognito67 @missdeerstalker15 @wakandamama  @avenger-marvel-fan @arieljamiyla @vibranium-soul @monae-boss @queenxchallaxkillamonger@amirra88 @jaeee-http @omg-itsnadi @fonville-designs @sydneebleu @cherrystainedlipsbaby @behindthesehazeleyes27 @areubeingserved  @kelbabyblue @academic-glowup  @patzammit @yourwonderbelle @pennywisesmistress @squeackygee @noramushrooms @titty-teetee @ab-baybay @kreolemami @impossiblegiantrebelbasketball @dangerouslovefanfic @heladoom @renesmeeharelds @zaddysqueen7 @alyxkbrl @hello-therree @taylorveebee @a-dizzle777 @deidrashouseofpain @coldmuffinbanditshoe  @evemej  @chaselovinggert @ben-wyxtt @designerwriterchic @chrisgalore @jennmurawski13 @rynabarnesrogers @yunggyeezyy @kemkem101 @dearkyrainez @minton131@momobaby227 @jesseswartzwelder @briellableu @browneyes9125 @mjey12 @magdelen69 @hannahholland1811 @lo-cheu @cocooned-butterfly @firstangeldragonranch  @jovanaprime @kemkem101 @gladiatrix14 @soapjay  

[iamnathannah]

Longing with a Cherry Tomato on Top | Chapter Twenty-Eight| Part One | Innocent & Unknowing

Title: Longing with a Cherry Tomato on Top | Chapter Twenty-Eight, Part One | Innocent & Unknowing Author: Nate Pairing: Paris/Rory, varying POVs Spoilers: Nothing to be spoiled show-wise, as we're well into my alternate universe here. Rating: R (sexual situations, allusions and recalls about past mental and physical abuse of a minor) Disclaimer: Despite all of us wishing she didn't at this point, Amy Sherman-Palladino still owns the Gilmore Girls, along with Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions, Hofflund-Polone, and whatever entity in the AT&T Deathstar now owns Warner Bros. Television (currently WarnerMedia). All other products mentioned within are the property and trademarks of their respective owners, and no disrespect is meant or implied. And yes, the mention of the setting in the end of this part was exhaustively researched and is completely true to where it is in Hartford. Archiving: AO3, RalSt, FF.net and aff.net. Since I have had so many issues with other sites shutting down after posting my work, from now on you must explicitly contact me to archive this story and promise to maintain your posting venue for more than a year. If you intend me to help start a Prory/Gellmore site, you need to commit to it for the sake of our fandom. Summary: It's the first Christmas Day for Paris and Rory together, and the Gilmore girl begins to understand why December 25th has never been easy for her upper-class girlfriend beyond not observing it due to her religion. Author's Notes: I'm posting this 2½ years after I promised a new chapter, and I do apologize for that, whole-heartedly. But I don't think any of us expected that 2020 would be spent since March inside most of the time, wearing a mask outside in public (including going to college), and that we wouldn't have struggles with unemployment and trying to find things to do. I hate to admit...my muse died for this story for about a year because I didn't feel well mentally. Coronavirus (and everything going on with it politically and our 'president') has not helped either. I'm getting help so hopefully in the future I can focus on this story (along with improving my life overall in general) and get it out to you faster. But as it is...I'm just one person, and I hope you do understand what goes into the process of writing it. During this time I also got a new MacBook Pro...so I'm learning how to work with MacOS. As someone who has been all-Windows since 3.11, this is a change I'm getting used to for sure (but it's so much easier to work with text!).

Also...the reviews of certain people who think I am a 'man-hater' (LOL!) also got me down and made me feel maybe I was too hard on Dean in the last chapter. But being in my friend circle, I think I got him right, and I reject those types of reviews out of hand in the future. You are reading a fic about Paris and Rory as a couple. Do you really think I'm going to be neutral on how awful and possessive Dean was? I've warned you multiple times before where I'm coming from. I'm going to say this now; if you're a fan of Dean or Christopher, please don't bother me any further. I'm not going to change my views that they're horrid men, and I won't waver on that going forward. Thus, I take back my early statement in a past AM that 'I mean no harm to Dean'...a statement I made in the mid-2000s before I wised up and found my current friend circle. And I stand 100% behind how he was in the last chapter.

And as for chapters...going by my word count, we're going to end up with this 'chapter' being around 130,000 (!) words, so I've decided over the next month, up to Thanksgiving, I'll be releasing it over about four-six parts rather than in one chunk, so you can pace yourself. That way...you have something to look forward to, and I can hopefully look forward to your feedback and criticism, which I will take, in any form.

For this chapter, I'd like to thank everyone who has stuck by me for the decade and a half plus reading this story loyally, and even those who are still discovering the show just now and have only strengthened the flame for Gellmore. One of them is anxiouspunk on AO3 (or on Tumblr, @paris-geller-was-straightwashed), who has posted a lot of amazing fic with our favorite duo in all the eras of the show (outside S6/7), including with their children. They are an amazing writer, and I'm glad to know them. Through our shared fandom, I've also gotten to know Lena (@lanafannabanana on Tumblr) over the last couple years, and I would recommend their Good Girls stories and if you just love obsessing over Rachel Weisz and Christina Hendricks. As always, Danielle and Taylor are always my rock, and I thank them for being here for me as all this has gone on. Also @dollsome-does-tumblr on Tumblr for being the one cranking out so many Gellmore gifsets (and some great fic herself)...thank you for your service!

The biggest reason I agonize over this chapter...is it establishes my overall headcanon for Paris and her most special of days, along with more of her family background beyond ASP's 'she has a mean mom'. I read too many stories where Mitchum is Worst Father Ever to Logan, and Paris always spoke with love about her dad (despite the S6 tax mess which just felt like ASP wanting to write another character and dragging Liza with her). Over the last two decades, this is how I imagine how she came into the world, and how despite it all, she does have a support system with her family. I wanted to post something for not only the 20th anniversary of Gilmore Girls, such a special show to be, but for the day Liza Weil first came onto our screens as Paris Gellar. Though I did not actually watch on October 12, 2000 (my first episode was Rory's Dance two months later, thus I had to back-track and be thankful the WB aired reruns...in January...on VHS...remember those?! Video on demand and stacking rights are a lifesaver!), I still hold Paris close to my heart, and telling this story as a love letter to her character and what might have been with Rory is what I hope to leave behind in this world proudly one day.

To end this novel of an author's note (last paragraph, I promise!), yes, I'm going to please say vote safely and carefully on November 3 if you're in the United States, or before then if you can. Mail your vote (or put it in a government-endorsed safe dropbox), and please don't waste it on a rapper or former pageant owner who is disrespectful to those sacrificing their lives to keep everyone safe, despite his own suffering he learned nothing from. I (and everyone I know) would like to wake up looking forward to January 20 at noon, knowing our country's future is bright, rather than four more years of...this. And so much bigotry. I usually tease about this...but if you're a bigot, please click out of this story and move on to anything else. You are not welcome here.

That said, on with the story. Title inspiration from "Fear" by Sarah McLachlan.

AO3 | FF.net

[perspective-series]

Pet Perspective (8/19)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Mentions of shocking, kidnapping, and general enslavement

First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

————————————————————————————–

 Patton looked away from his laptop when he realized more than twenty minutes had passed. He peered over at the enclosure but couldn’t see Logan in the main part of the room. He frowned, wondering what was taking the borrower so long. He knocked on the enclosure gently. “Kiddo? Everything okay in there?”

Logan jerked his head up, realizing he had spent far too long in his little haven.

“Everything is fine!” Logan called back, pleased to hear his voice didn’t shake. He shut off the water, quickly drying off and throwing one of the new outfits on at random. The fabric felt odd against his damp skin, but Logan was more concerned with checking his appearance in the mirror. His eyes appeared red, but it could easily be mistaken for the effects of a hot shower. Satisfied, Logan rushed back out into view.

 Patton sighed in relief when Logan looked fine. He opened up the enclosure to allow Logan to get out. “There you are, what happened? Why were you in there so long?”

“I did not want to get out.” Logan shrugged. “It was...I lost track of time.”

 “Oh, well that’s okay. I just got a bit worried.” He looked at Logan a little closer, frowning at his red eyes. “How hot was that shower?” He asked softly, reaching up to gently move the hair out of Logan’s eyes. “You’re eyes are all red…”

“I’m fine!” Logan said, louder than he normally would, and as he took a step back he remembered that there was no collar controlling his volume, either.

 Patton blinked and snapped his hand back. That...was the loudest he had ever heard Logan speak. “O-Okay, if you’re sure.” Something still didn’t seem right here though.

“Yes, I- I am fine.” Logan lowered his voice, rubbing once at his eyes. If he was honest, he was fine. Well, he wasn’t, but he was certainly better with that cursed collar off.

 Patton hummed but didn’t question Logan again. Instead, he grabbed the collar and motioned for Logan to come closer. “Alright then kiddo, let’s get this back on you.”

...well, now Logan wasn’t fine.

Logan took another step back, taking a deep breath. “No.”

 Patton blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“No, I-” Breathe. Logan reminded himself. You can use your words now. “I don’t want to put that abomination around my neck ever again.”

 “Aww kiddo, it’s not that bad.” Patton said, frowning at how Logan was acting. He had never seen him act like this before. “And it’s needed, just in case you get lost.”

“If the tag is required, I am willing to carry it myself.” Logan assured him. “But the collar itself is not, and has already caused enough suffering on my end.”

 Patton’s eyebrows knit together. “Suffering? Logan, you aren’t making any sense.” Why on earth would a little collar such as this cause Logan suffering?

“The punishments!” Logan insisted. “The shopkeeper claimed it was mild but it’s not, it’s constricting and powerful and completely inhumane!”

 Okay Patton was really confused now. “Logan, what are you talking about?!”

“I’m talking about that shock collar!” An exasperated Logan pointed to the darned thing.

 “Shock...collar?” Patton frowned and looked down at the collar and for the first time, he saw the little device on the inner area that deemed it such a collar. His eyes widened. “W-Wait you mean this whole time...it-it’s been shocking you?!” Patton asked, visibly upset over this.

Logan’s eyebrows shot up. Of all the reactions he expected to come of his refusal to put the device back on, this was not one of them. “You were ... unaware?”

 “Of course! I-I never would have made you keep it if-if I had known!” Patton growled out, looking down at the shock collar. “The pet store didn’t even tell me. Also, how dare they put it on you in the first place!” Patton crushed the collar in his grip and all but threw it in the trash can below his desk. He would certainly be calling them about this.

Logan blinked, shocked by this development… no pun intended.

“They- they used it for obedience training.” Logan explained, feeling the sudden urge to spill his story. “I was too argumentative, they wanted to force me into submission. I couldn’t raise my voice above certain levels. It was programmed so that if I ever said ‘no’ I would receive a shock as well, not wanting me to get mouthy with potential owners. They had a remote too, for those instances when I used the loopholes to continue to snap at my handlers. I’m surprised they did not hand over that device. I was wondering where it had gone.”

 “Oh...oh you poor thing. No wonder you were so hesitant to talk to me about things! You couldn’t.” Patton shook his head. “I’m so sorry I didn’t realize this sooner...they’ll certainly be hearing from me.”

Logan quickly nodded, surprised once again. If he had been told an owner could be anything like Patton back at the pet store, Logan would have wanted to be sold sooner. Then again, Logan didn’t particularly want another owner. 

“Thank you.” Logan spoke hurriedly, almost as if he still feared he couldn’t get all the words out. “For standing up to them, and listening to me, and getting rid of it. But especially listening to me. No human has ever done that in my lifespan.”

 Patton looked at Logan sadly. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that...I wasn’t lying when I said you could tell me anything. I want this arrangement to be comfortable for you.”

“I do not like being touched by strangers.” Logan immediately declared, taking Patton up on his word. He took a deep breath. “I am beginning to trust you, but I still want to have control over my own fate. I also do not like derogatory names. I don’t like messes or roughhousing. I prefer silence and alone time often to recharge.”

 Patton nodded. “Okay.” The human smiled. “I’ll make sure that happens. I promise.” Like he said, he wanted Logan to be comfortable. And all this was the least he could do, after what Logan had to go through.

Logan was surprised the human agreed. “And… in exchange?”

 Patton blinked, tilting his head. “Exchange? Um...your happiness?”

“Surely that cannot be all that you desire.” Logan squinted suspiciously.

 “Honestly kiddo, I just want you to be happy here. With-with me.” Patton smiled softly. “I guess, all I could ask is that you...give me a chance?”

Logan paused, considering both his own demands and Patton’s character thus far. “I believe I can do that.” Logan confirmed, the faintest of smiles on his lips.

 Patton grinned and squealed a little. “Yay! I’m glad!” He reached out to scoop Logan up and hug him but stopped himself. “Oh, wait, right. No touching. Sorry.” He pulled his hands back to his lap but still continued to smile at Logan.

Logan cleared his throat, feeling obliged to give in to Patton’s whims. “I suppose… some touching at this particular juncture could be, acceptable.”

 Patton’s eyes widened. “Really? Because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or like you are obligated to.”

“No, you’ve been exceedingly gentle, and generous as well.” Logan explained. “You’ve behaved kinder than I expected and for that I want to encourage that behavior with positive reinforcement. I assure you I will not mind the contact.”

 Patton grinned. “Well, if you’re sure!” Patton reached out and gently scooped Logan up, holding him close to his chest. 

Logan tensed at the initial touch, but when Patton’s hands remained steady he reached out to give Patton’s chest a careful pat.

 Patton chuckled. “See? I told you I was right in choosing you. We were meant to be together.”

Logan wasn’t certain about that statement, but he was growing fond of Patton’s compliance. If things kept up in this manner… perhaps the future would not be so bad. But then again, Logan had yet to see Patton experience a wide variety of emotions that had a nasty habit of turning humans foul.

---------------------------------------

 Virgil wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he finally looked up from his phone but it appeared that Roman was basically done putting away his clothes. “Took you long enough.”

Roman didn’t bother verbally responding, just leaning on the outside wall of his prison and pointedly avoiding eye contact.

 Virgil frowned. “You know, if you didn’t get so many clothes it wouldn’t have taken you so long to put them all away.”

Still Roman ignored him, content to provide the silent treatment.

 Virgil sighed. “Okay, I get it. Giving me the silent treatment huh?” Virgil crossed his arms. “Stealing my idea and everything. Very original.”

“It’s not your idea.” Roman snipped before he could stop himself.

 Virgil snorted. “Maybe not but you are really bad at this.” He knew Roman couldn’t stay silent forever. The borrower was a talker for sure. 

Roman scowled, crossing his own arms and sliding further down the wall.

 Virgil sighed, running a hand down his face. “Look. I just don’t get it. You’d think you would be used to all of this by now.”

“Forgive me for not conforming to your captivity.” Roman growled. 

 “Roman, the reason you’re in ‘captivity’ is to keep you safe. Borrowers can’t survive on their own out there. You don’t have the skills your ancestors once did.” Virgil explained.

“You don’t know that.” Roman argued, turning so his back was almost fully facing Virgil. “You don’t know anything about me.”

 Virgil bit his lip. “Okay...then tell me about yourself.”

The borrower’s shoulders tensed, and Roman threw Virgil a calculated look over his shoulder. “What?”

 “Tell me about yourself. If you really think I don’t know you, then tell me about your life. About your likes and dislikes. Whatever you want to tell me.” Virgil said, leaning on his arms on the desk.

Roman turned, not fully facing him but enough that he could look the human in the eye. He was quiet for a while, keeping his face neutral as Roman’s mind raced to figure out what he wanted to say. On the one hand, opening up to an owner was an objectively bad idea, and would most definitely make it harder to escape once Virgil knew how to become more vigilant. 

But on the other hand… Roman was desperate for someone to actually listen for once.

“This was my first borrowing.” Roman blurted out, the words seeming to come on their own accord. He grabbed the front of his princely outfit to indicate he was talking about the costume. “I snatched it on my way out of the last home. It wasn’t a gift; I took it. A little bit of an act of vengeance as well. I took other things before in my escape attempts, things like food and water, but a first borrowing is something that you retrieve on your own, that you can keep. It’s yours, and in a world where even my body is often just another possession, having something of my own is a pretty big flippin’ deal.” 

Roman looked away again, staring off at a random spot on the wall. “Back in the real borrowing days, it was also a sign of independence.” Roman explained quietly. “The first step to showing you could make it on your own.”

 Virgil...didn’t know what to say. Whatever he had been expecting, it hadn’t been that. “I...wow, that’s…” Virgil ran a hand through his hair. “I had...no idea.” The history of borrowers was a short and sweet one. But apparently there was a lot more to it.

“I’m not incompetent, Virgil.” Roman turned fully away again, hiding his face. “I know the wilderness is harsh for borrowers, I’ve lived there.”

 Virgil blinked. “Wait...what? H-How?” That...that should be impossible.

Roman took a slow, shuddering breath. “When I was really young, my family was Outies, or outdoor borrowers. I don’t-” One of Roman’s hands combed through his hair. “I don’t remember it, exactly, just bits and pieces, enough to know that yeah, it was dangerous, but we were fine. At least we were until some humans decided to show up, separate us and sell us to the highest bidder.”

Roman scowled at the memory, knowing that anger was easier because he was not about to cry in front of Virgil and send the exact wrong message of this whole thing.

“It’s near impossible to survive out there, but not because of the wilderness.” Roman explained, getting to his point. “It’s because humans won’t let us. You all act like you know best and put on this savior act all the while ushering us into cages and expecting us to smile about it. It’s infuriating!”

 Virgil looked down, his world view suddenly changing. “I...I had no idea there were even any wild borrowers left. We’re always told that, at this point, you’re all raised in captivity from birth.” Virgil ran a hand down his face, messing up his eyeshadow a bit but he didn’t care. “You...You were really taken from your family?”

“Well, and they were taken from me, a two way street I suppose.” Roman gave a chuckle that was far too bitter and high-pitched. “I’ve mostly made my peace with it, considering there’s almost no chance of a family reunion. I don’t know where they went, and I was so young I often... forget the faces.”

Roman cleared his throat, a poor attempt at changing the subject. “And, as for captivity from birth, that’s where Little Logan comes in.”

 “Logan? Oh, so he was in captivity all his life.” Like Virgil thought all borrowers were supposed to be.

“I assume.” Roman gave a small shrug, leaning back against the wall again and sliding to the ground. He gave a quick wipe of his sleeve across the eyes, almost glaring at Virgil to his left as if daring him to say anything. “I mean, I don’t know his life story, but most trained borrowers are and he’s yet to prove me wrong.”

 Virgil was silent for a long time. “I’m...I’m sorry. You were right. I really didn’t know anything about you.”

Roman let out something that might have been an amused scoff. “I’m not exactly a big fan of leading with my tragic backstory, it’s tacky.”

 “Yeah, I, uh, I understand that.” Virgil looked down. “So then...what’s your overall goal? If...If you managed to escape and not get caught by other humans, what are your plans?”

Roman wasn’t able to hide the surprise on his face that a human- his owner, no less- sounded almost genuinely curious about his goals, instead of just trying to gather information to stop him from doing so.

“...I don’t know.” Roman admitted. “I just kinda always wanted to see if I could do it, I guess. Just take it one day at a time and see what happens. But, it-” Roman winced, his pride hurting as he knew he shouldn’t admit this but apparently it was designated sharing time according to his stupid heart.

“It...it is reckless to be an Outie alone.” Roman explained. “It’s probably part of the reason I keep getting caught. I think I remember easily over a dozen borrowers in my first clan, safety in numbers and all that. So I’m just stuck in this loop of captured, sold, escape, nearly die...aaaaand captured again.”

Yeah, Roman really shouldn’t be saying all of this.

“Except for household number four.” Roman snickered a bit. “I annoyed him so much he just marched me right back to the shelter himself. Skip the middleman, I guess.”

 Again, it was a lot of information for Virgil to take in. “Roman, I…” He bit his lip. “Maybe...the cycle could end here?” He swallowed the lump in his throat.

 “Because like...I want this to work. You and I. I...I know I’ve been pretty crappy so far.” He chuckled humorlessly. “I did throw you across the room, after all. And I...I hurt you, even if I never meant to, I still did. And I’m sorry for all that...I really am.”

 He did his best to meet Roman’s eyes. “I promise, I’ll do better. Please, just...give me a chance?”

Roman took a moment to study Virgil’s expression, finding only sincerity. It made Roman’s chest pinch in an unpleasant, but not necessarily bad, way. Perhaps it was time to settle down. Who was Roman fooling, anyhow? Virgil was the best human he had yet, and if he was eventually going to be stuck living with a human this might be his best shot. It could be bearable, pleasant even. Virgil had already made it clear he was willing to spoil Roman ‘til his teeth went rotten, and he was the first human who seemed to give a crap about Roman as a person.

But then, Roman’s wandering fingers traced over the tag, still hanging from the collar forever around his neck. 

Not as a person, then. Roman winced, correcting his line of thinking. As a pet.

Roman turned away, back to looking at that spot on the wall. His fingers continued to play with the little metal tag, turning it this way and that as if it wasn’t a symbol of everything he loathed about this arrangement. No, Roman couldn’t be happy here. Even if he was merely a desperate fool, Roman knew in his heart he could never stop chasing that elusive feeling of freedom, and he knew freedom was the one thing he could never find here. But he could never tell Virgil that.

“Yes.” Roman said finally, slipping back into his old charming ways. “I think I can do that.”

 Virgil smiled. “Thank you, Roman. I promise, I won’t let you down.” He would try even harder to make sure Roman was comfortable and listened to.

Roman just nodded, wondering when lying had started to hurt.

[stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland]

Personal Thoughts...

If there is something that has made me fall in love with Camila Cabello since I knew about her, it is her mind.She is physically beautiful, do not misunderstand me, but her beauty to me is not physical but mental. I love her mind and the way she plans her music, the steps she takes to achieve her goals. And thinking about my last post about her Grammy nomination for the circus collab I think I can get something else out of that. And with that I want to talk about the circus, but with a purely logistic and neutral approach. We all know that PRs are a means to an end. A great business. Taking that into account, let's think about Camila and her past statements that she hates PRs. That after Austin she wasn't going to do more PRs because she hated them. (I don't have any screenshot in my hands about what she said about the PRs but that statement was given in the Zach Sang show) So, if she hates doing PRs so much, why did she accepted Ewmila? Why did she accepted Shonmila again if she knew that even having the best friend as her PR was still a PR that she hated to do so much? Remember folks, PRs are a business and as such have their benefits and cons. Monetary benefit without a doubt, she wasn't going to make an idiot of herself for free. She is in business that means she knows what she can earn from it. It may sound ambitious in it but we all know that money unfortunately is important and I have always felt that the money Camila has earned has not been for herself but for the people she loves. Considering where she comes from, I'm sure she cares about earning money for her and for the people she loves because she doesn't want them to go through the economic difficulties they went through, so for me at least it's okay that she wants to secure a good heritage for her future. But I think the biggest benefit of the circus for Camila is the creative freedom we have been able to see in her new era. Without the fucking circus she could not have released a cover as LGBT as Romance

Without the fucking circus she would not have been able to have a collab with Ed Sheeran and sing over the green eyes that obsess her so much. Without the fucking circus, (and past circuses) the girls would not have been able to give us what they have given us. I think if I were Camila and being in her shoes, I would have said: I accept that shit if you give me something in return. One thing for another. They accepted. They accepted and the Romance era comes with all the rainbows of colors you can imagine. Except, that with the benefits, the cons also come. - Her image on the ground, as well as her reputation. Her haters have given the feast of their life with this circus and it is not for less, they have not come down her as a whore but it is something that was seen to come because it was the same thing that happened with Lauren in her Pryren circus. That all her music be related to the circus and lover boy. I think it's the part that Camilla should fuck the most right now. That all your work is related to someone who is not the real recipient of your music should be a fucking hell for anyone. We as Camren shippers can relate Camila's music to Lauren because she IS the real recipient of Camila's music and has been since CC1. I think we will continue to connect Camila's music to Lauren until she gives us no more signs of it. Personally, I think it must be difficult for her that her music and art be overshadowed by lover boy whenever she wants to release a single or have an important presentation, because who in her right mind would want that for her career? Camila has won more awards and nominations without carrying a PR on her back than having one and we have already seen that. - Make a fool of herself, when as fool  she doesn't have a single hair (not pun intended). If there is something that has caught my attention this circus is that it has been ridiculous. Ridiculous until saying enough. Why? Why this constant need to expose oneself to criticism, not only of the general public who does not believe in the circus but of the other artists who see that "relationship" as a complete farce? They do it on purpose. The more ridiculous the circus, the less credible it will look but it will have what all the circuses look for anyway. Attention. Bad, good, for the shit hole everything is useful while talking about it. And the attention has gained it more than just because people talk about it but because the bastards made good use of the investment and have paid half the world to support the farce. And now they have a Grammy nomination that may be able to lengthen the farce or shorten it if the participants reach a point where they no longer want to continue with the performance. I think they will reach a point that they do not want to continue with the performance (as it happened with Ewmila) and send everything to hell to continue their respective careers. In Camila's case (because I'm not interested in lover boy), she could do it with Cinderella. The movie ad portas is a clean slate for a new stage in her artistic career, starting with the fact that her so ill-fated team could get rid of Lover boy with the enchanted prince Cinderella will have. (I'm not giving you ideas, Roger because in the end you do everything as you please so no, I'm not interested). The enchanted prince could be a strategy or extend the circus to the extreme or until the participants explode. An explosion would not be bad either

And finally, another humble advice folks. A tip to avoid the bad wave caused by circuses. Apart from ignoring them that is important. See circuses as a business. Not because they appear everywhere. We know how circuses work, see it that way. Emotionless. They are acting to get something in return. Ignore it but they are not capable but do not forget that as every business has an expiration date and sooner or later it will end.

[completeoveranalysis]

TRC Translation Notes Volume 12 (Chapters 83 - 90 + Omake)

The second dose of the new translation notes sent in by @giniroangou, now looking at Volume 12. 

Highlights include: fantastic closure on the names of the dragonflies, improved Fai and Kurogane banter, Tomoyo being boss, Kyle being extra, and justice for the Pretty Hair Detectives.

Chapter 83

p.6 - The story about the inventor of the maze (Meiro-san rather than Maze-san in the original text, since “meiro” is the Japanese word for maze/labyrinth) is a bit more ridiculous in the translation than it needs to be - rather than getting fed up with visitors “passing through” his bedroom (which raises some very strange questions) he just wanted to make sure that no one could reach his bedroom (which… perhaps raises other questions, but still makes a lot more sense.)

p.10 - The name of Ryuuou’s dragonfly, Ryuuga, is written as 龍牙, which means “dragon fang.”

p.18 - Ryuuou’s line after Syaoran saves him has been translated as, “You may have underestimated me, but you’re a good guy.” The original meaning of this was closer to, “You may be soft, but you’re a good guy.”

p.19 - Apparently this was pointed out by notpotable already, but there’s definitely a mistranslation when Tomoyo says, “The way he pilots his machine is very much like the one I know.” I would translate her line as a more general statement along the lines of, “The way that people pilot their machines truly does reflect who they are.” Of course, this is still in reference to Syaoran’s actions, but it becomes a broader observation as well.

p.24 - Fai’s “Syaoran” here was originally “Syaoran-kun,” as usual, but the Japanese wording of his line feels a little more casual overall. The translation has it as, “You couldn’t avoid that collision and still remain true to yourself,” which certainly got a lot of mileage in analysis, but the original line echoed something that you actually ended up saying in your post - “If you’d avoided that collision, you wouldn’t be Syaoran-kun, right?” In the end it’s the same idea, just with a slightly different nuance.

p.26 - Grosum’s dragonfly name is Legend, not Regent, which makes more sense in relation to his Jade counterpart (though what this references for Piffle World’s Grosum is anyone’s guess.) Chunyan’s dragonfly name, Renhi, is written as 蓮姫, meaning “lotus princess.”

Chapter 84

p.40 - The translation has Fai describe Syaoran, Sakura, and Mokona as “children in the same family,” but in the Japanese version he just calls them “siblings.” <3

Chapter 85

p.60 - There’s a weird mistranslation of one of Mokona’s lines here - in the English version she talks about needing a water flow that would show the way, but her point in the original was that if they flew under the waterfall and all that water dumped on top of them they wouldn’t be able to fly anymore.

Chapter 87

The title of this chapter was translated as, “A Banquet of Laughter,” but it should actually be, “A Banquet of Smiles.” While Japan does have an identical word for both “laughter” and “smile” (笑い/warai), in this case the word used is “egao” (笑顔) which purely refers to smiling.

p.90 - Something went terribly wrong here and I’m laughing - in his explanation about Raigyo, Yamazaki is translated as saying that they’re only 3 centimeters when they’re fried, but the word the translator took that from is “fry,” meaning young fish rather than fried fish. So basically they’re small when they’re still young.

p.91-92 - There were a lot of mistranslations between Kurogane and Fai here that completely changed the tone of their conversation. Instead of saying that Kurogane is all better now and he should wave too, Fai points out that Kurogane chose not to bind up his hand despite the severity of his injury, and is complicit in helping him hide it (at the top of the page he says he’ll wave enough for both of them.) This leads more naturally into his observation that Kurogane doesn’t want to be too obvious about it for fear of making Sakura feel guilty, to which Kurogane protests that he just didn’t want to go to the trouble. When Fai pushes him on page 92, he’s responding playfully with something along the lines of, “Sure, we’ll leave it at that,” or more loosely, “Whatever you say.”

p.98 - Syaoran doesn’t actually call Sakura, “Your Highness” here, he’s just using basic polite speech. (I’m really tired of translator-san doing this by the way - it always creates a larger sense of distance than is actually there. Syaoran’s polite speech does imply a certain amount of distance, of course, but this goes a little far for me.)

When Mokona says her contribution to the race was “nothing to shout about,” she’s literally saying, “Though I can’t talk about it too loudly,” with an implication of, “This is just between you and me.” Her choice of words indicates that she’s referring to her rule-bending assist with the first checkpoint.

Chapter 88

p.106 - As a clarifying point, there’s a “kiiii” sound effect in the background during Kyle’s entrance, which would indicate some kind of high-pitched noise (also evidenced by Mokona’s reaction.) This would indeed imply that Kyle is shattering windows with a sound-based attack, presumably with the ultimate goal of breaking the glass around the feather so it becomes more accessible to him. It’s all still very extra though, hahaha.

p.107 - I’m only just thinking to mention this now, but Tomoyo’s title translated as “Madame President” is actually just “shachou” (社長), a gender-neutral title most often used for company heads, so just “President” would have sufficed there. Or, you know, “Boss.” BECAUSE SHE’S A BOSS. ...I’ll see myself out.

p.116 - Kyle’s warning(?) here is very awkwardly translated. The proper meaning of his original line is, “There are people with the same face in different worlds, but you never know if they’re actually different people.”

p.120 - This isn’t quite clear in the translation, but here Tomoyo orders her team to land the blimp (meaning what they’re all currently on) in a safe place and see everyone back home.

Chapter 89

p.132 - To soften Nokoru and Shougo’s intrusion a little, their original line was not so much that Tomoyo would need them to help her explain, but that they ought to join the discussion. There’s more of a sense that it’s their responsibility to help explain and apologize given the large role they played.

p.134 - The explanation for Tomoyo’s false sabotage is a little shaky here, so to clarify - it was intended as a diversion for the real saboteur to make him believe someone else was after the feather, and as a way to keep the Tsubasa family vigilant during the course of the race.

p.138 - Syaoran’s “Doctor Kyle!” here was originally just, “Doctor Kyle.” I swear I do not correct every punctuation difference that pops up and I know it gets a little ridiculous, but it really does make a huge difference in tone. Just look at his face! And now compare the effect that line has with the exclamation point vs without. There are a lot of scenes that feel much more weighty and intense in the original manga simply because of the punctuation.

p.140 - Tomoyo’s, “I didn’t bother to help you,” could be cut entirely - it wasn’t there in her original line and I think it sounds a bit rude tbh.

p.142 - Fai’s line to Syaoran about banning fun is actually a proposition that he temporarily lift the liquor ban. In Mokona’s follow up, she says that they should drink to celebrate Sakura’s first victory, not her own.

p.147 - In the original text, there’s less of an implication that Tomoyo-hime has walked through Kurogane’s dreams specifically - he’s just saying that given who she is it’s not surprising that she has this ability.

p.148 - What’s been translated as Kurogane saying, “Did she look okay?” should actually be Tomoyo saying, “She looked well.”

p.149 - Tomoyo’s line on this page is beautiful in the translated version, but I think it has slightly different implications than the original. Instead of “Please don’t resist too much. Allow yourself to heal,” she says, “Please don’t be too reckless so you can heal soon.” The concept of allowing himself to heal is certainly implied there, but there’s no sense of deliberate resistance, just that Kurogane doesn’t always take care of himself the way he should. Ultimately, while it’s still a significant moment between the two of them, Tomoyo’s original lines feel less weighted.

Chapter 90

p.155 - Sakura isn’t asking if Tomoyo gets drunk easily here but the opposite, whether she can hold her liquor well.

p.163 - “They call it a sewing machine,” seems to have been translated as if it were one of Sakura’s lines, but this is actually Tomoyo chipping in to say, “It’s called a sewing machine.”

Omake

p.175 - “Shadow Hero” would be better represented as “Shadow Protagonist.” Mokona is literally being presented to us here as the lead character and it’s glorious.

p.178 - Kurogane says the pictures in the Jade version of Maganyan looked pretty/sparkly, but he never says that they’re too pretty so he might not actually disapprove! (Judging by his face though, I wouldn’t bet on it.)

P.178-179 - Regarding the Country of Fog/Country of the Lake discrepancy: This world was first introduced to us in a chapter titled The Country of Fog (Kiri no Kuni/霧の国) and here it’s Fai who calls it the lake country aka (Mizuumi no Kuni/湖の国), but the first case could easily just be a description of the place rather than its formal name, and the second case could just be Fai’s impression of it, even with the matching title card of sorts on the following page. The way these names are depicted in the English translation makes them look somewhat official, but it feels casual enough in the Japanese text that I wouldn’t be surprised if that world actually has a completely different official name that we simply haven’t had occasion to learn.

[schrijverr]

Dead Bride

When they get kidnapped it all goed differently. Nathan says he is the cop and gets murdered with a chainsaw. When he comes to he is put in the weddingdress that Kelly had been wearing. He had already been struggling with his gender and a comment from Curtis makes Nathan snap. Kelly and Simon go after him and in the end all five make up. It's sweet!

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: A bit negative about Queerness, but it gets resolved! Angst with happy ending.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You need to tell him you’re the undercover cop” Simon hissed to him, “If he kills you it doesn’t matter.”

“Well, that’s easy for you to say,” Nathan snapped, “You’re not the one who has to be dismembered with a chainsaw.”

Simon shot him an intense look and Nathan rolled his eyes. “Sheez, fine.” he mumbled and then louder he said: “I’m him, I’m the undercover cop.”

The guy stopped advancing on Alisha and turned to him. He pulled him down to the ground and started up his chainsaw. Nathan knew he would survive this, but he also didn’t want it to happen, so he did what anyone would have done, he begged: “Please, you don’t have to do this. I can become a crooked cop, like do stuff for you. I don’t know, just don’t dismember me, please.”

He couldn’t see the others, but he heard Nikki say: “Why did he do that? Why aren’t you stopping him, this, it!”

And after that he heard Curtis tell her he is immortal and this is the best way to get out of here without anyone getting hurt. Yeah, sure, like he isn’t about to get very hurt. The guy doesn’t think about his words, just approaches with the chainsaw. “If you don’t want to be mentally scared forever, I’d recommend turning away.” he yelled over his shoulder.

He couldn’t check if anyone listened to him, because he received the first blow with the chainsaw. He screamed in agony for a hot second, before the darkness of death took him away.

When he came to he was met with five concerned faces from above. He waved at them and stretched a bit before sitting up and taking himself in. His orange jumpsuit was completely thorn up and bloodied and he felt very naked. He realized that he should probably make a joke or something to ease the others worries. He said: “Were you all watching me, naked, on the ground. I may be handsome, but that’s just freaky, ya perverts.”

He grinned widely as some rolled their eyes. “Are you gonna fucking help us or what?” Curtis said.

Nathan jumped up and let them all down. They were all stretching and rolling their muscles when Nathan said: “Does anyone have some clothes? I don’t want more community serves for public nudity.”

“Oh, yeah, wait you can have this.” Kelly said while pointing at the dress she was wearing.

Scandalized Nathan exclaimed: “I’m not wearing a wedding dress!” but as he said that he thought, I would like to wear that, no stop, she might hear you, idiot! … It looks very pretty, though.

Kelly looked at him with a suspicious glance, she had said it as a joke intending to give him her normal clothes after they had a laugh at him, but then she heard his thoughts. It seemed like he wanted to, but didn’t want anyone to know. She might have thought he was a dick, but they were close friends and she would never make fun of him for something he was really ashamed of. “Then you can be naked. I hate this dress and the fact that that weird dude made me wear it. I’m taking this off and I’m not spending another moment in it. You can be naked or wear the fucking dress, yeah.” she said.

Nathan frowned unsure of what to do. On one hand he really wanted to and she had given him a good reason to do it, but on the other hand he was scared of what everyone would think and he had a reputation as a dick to uphold. It was Alisha who made the decision for him in the end. Kelly was out of the dress and Alisha pushed it in his hands and said: “Just put the fucking dress on, it’s not the end of the world.”

He sighed dramatically, but was grateful on the inside as he put it on. It was softer than he was expecting and it felt nice. He felt ashamed that he thought that, but he had always been drawn to womens clothing. For a while he had played with the thought that he might be a girl, but he had dismissed that when he was looking for terms for that. He had also considered other labels like genderfluid or gender-neutral, but none of it fit. He was just a boy who thought womens clothing were nicer than mens and wondered how it would be to wear a skirt, a dress, some make up or heels, like a freak. He didn’t really have time to ravel in the feeling of wearing the dress, because the others were already walking out, so he hurried after them, ignoring the giddy feeling in his chest.

As they were walking down the streets Nathan kept his head down while the others were discussing what to do now. Curtis and Simon wanted to go after the guy, but the girls agreed that it wasn’t their business now that he had finally left them alone. “What do you think, Nathan? You’ve been kind of quiet.” Kelly asked.

Nathan shrugged and said: “If people hear my suave and manly voice they will look, besides I already died horrible once, I do not need that another time.”

“What does that matter. You’re immortal.” Curtis said.

Nathan rolled his eyes and said: “Yeah, I know that. I get murdered a lot if you hadn’t noticed, but just because I come back doesn’t mean it doesn’t fucking hurt like a bitch. You try getting your bones sawed in pieces, it’s not fun, dickhead.”

Curtis laughed a bit while looking a bit guilty. “What’s so funny, asshole.” Nathan snapped defensively. He hadn’t lied when he said it hurt, and it hurt even more that they didn’t seem to care how much dying hurt him.

“It’s nothing, just hard to take you seriously in that ridiculous dress.” Curtis chuckled, next to him Alisha nodded with a smirk, Nikki too, though she didn’t even know him.

Nathans heart dropped to his balls and the giddy feeling he had earlier disappeared as if a bubble had been burst in his chest as they laughed. He felt tears burning in his eyes, but he didn’t let it show. He knew this would happen, he knew they would laugh, would think he was weird and it wasn’t even his own choice. Angrily he yelled: “Well fuck you too. It’s not like I wanted to be in this dress, twat. I’m sorry my appearance stops you form taking me serious as I tell you it fucking hurts and it’s not fun to die, you fucking asshole. I didn’t ask for this.”

He didn’t know at what that last statement was directed, but he didn’t care. He could feel the tears fighting to get out, so he did the only thing he could. He ran. He didn’t look back and he didn’t watch out for cars. What does it matter if I get hit, he thought bitterly, I’m immortal.

Back at the street corner a confused Curtis asked: “What just happened?”

Kelly slapped him and said: “You were an asshole.”

“What did I even do. You saw how strange that dress looked and then he was being all serious and stuff, Nathan can’t be serious. He never gets like this, no matter what we say, how was I supposed to expect this?” He said.

Alisha agreed with him and Kelly rolled her eyes. “I get that, just you can think, yeah. He was dead serious. Message was clear, he don’t like dying. I’ll go after him with Simon, you lot stay away from him for a while.”

“Why am I going with you?” Simon asked kind of scared.

“Because you didn’t laugh and he likes you. I’m not going alone, now come on, yeah.” then Kelly was walking away, Simon scrambling after her.

The three left looked at each other. Alisha asked: “We still need to get our stuff”

Curtis nodded and they went on, in a slower pace, bringing Nikki home first.

Meanwhile the community center was coming in sight for Nathan. He had been running for a while now and he realized how fucking he weird he must have looked to everyone. There he was, a boy in a wedding dress, and if that wasn’t weird enough he and the dress were also covered in blood and he was crying. What a sissy I am, he thought. He tried to open the front door, but found it locked. He cursed, he hadn’t realized how late it was. He tried his window, but with the dress he was too big to fit through. Logically he knew that he could take it off, but he felt he really didn’t want to. This was the best reason to wear a dress he would ever get and he hadn’t had the time to really sort out how he was feeling about it.

He looked down and petted the dress. It was soft and it flowed nicely around him. He twirled a bit and smiled as the dress twirled prettily with him. He fondled the dress some more and realized that he felt pretty. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt pretty and that thought suddenly made him cry again. He sagged to the ground right under his window and cried. He pulled his knees to his chest and played with the hems of the dress as sobs raked through his body.

That was how Simon and Kelly found him. They stopped in their tracks and tried to decide to do what to do. In the end they decided on sitting down next to him. Both on opposite sides with Nathan in the middle. Kelly wrapped an arm around him which made him shake of his trance as he got startled. He wanted to get away, but bumped into Simon. He quickly wiped at his eyes and slapped on one of the most fake smiles they had ever seen. He joked: “Come to tell me how radiant of a bride I would be.”

It didn’t land. Kelly just smiled at him and said: “Yes, you look very pretty in the dress, Nathan. Sorry about Curtis, he’s a bit oblivious.”

Nathans face got vulnerable as the fake smile crumbled and he let out a wet chuckle and said: “Just because you can read minds, doesn’t mean everyone is oblivious. He saw the truth and said it. I’m being stupid over nothing.”

“My mum, says that if you’re crying over it, it can’t be stupid.” Simon said.

Kelly nodded and Nathan looked down. He didn’t make a jab at how Simon was a mummies boy or  anything. It was concerning. Kelly broke the silence: “Do you want to talk about it?”

“About dying or me still being in this, this stupid dress.” Nathan said quietly.

“Which one you want.” Kelly answered and Simon nodded.

“I’m not trans or anything like that, it just, just makes me feel pretty.” it was quiet and if you weren’t paying attention you would have missed it.

“Dresses make me feel pretty too.” Kelly said, “When I was little I would steel my mums heels, yeah, and walk around in a dress we had for dress up and I would feel like a queen. It is dead nice.”

Nathan nodded: “Yeah, this is the first time I had to guts to actually put something like this on. I stole a lipstick and some mascara, but I never did anything with it. I was too scared and confused, you know.”

Both nodded, they could understand that, the world wasn’t very accepting of these kinds of things and people in this neighborhood could get rough easily, and from what they had gathered Nathan had grown up religious.

“Well, if you want to feel pretty then you should be able to.” Simon said.

“Yeah, they’re just idiots. If they give you shit I’ll just beat them up, but I don’t think they will. Alisha is always begging to let her do my make-up, if you tell her I’m sure she would want to do yours.” Kelly smiled at him and he smiled back.

“Thank you.” Nathan chocked, “I needed that.”

He leaned his head on Simons shoulder and pulled Kelly closer. They sat like that for a while, before the emotional exhaustion and comfort of friends lulled Nathan to sleep. After about ten minutes Curtis and Alisha arrived. Kelly noticed them first and left Nathan in Simons care as she walked to them to have a stern chat with them.

“Hey, Kelly.” Curtis said, he noticed Nathan and Simon in the background and asked: “He still in that dress? I thought he would be out of it by now.”

“We’re gonna talk and this can end in everyone being happy or a fist in your face, yeah. Sit.” She said.

The two sat at the table and Kelly began: “Don’t interrupt me, I’m being dead serious. So, Nathan likes to wear womens stuff, you hurt him. He’s not trans or any of that crap. It makes him feel pretty. Alisha you can get that, make-up and dresses make you feel pretty, right?” Alisha nodded, understanding slipping onto her face. “Curtis, you didn’t realize this, but when you laughed at him for the dress, you were his biggest fear come to life. You hurt him and you should apologize, if you can’t accept him you won’t be able to do community services with us, yeah?”

She looked him in the eye and he got it, she could see it in his eyes and she nodded, he nodded back. “I didn’t realize, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. I knew what kind of shit he can be put through because of this and I don’t want that for him, he’s my friend.” he said.

“Yeah, I don’t want that for him either, besides it will be fun to have someone to talk to about make-up other than you. You’re shit at it.” Alisha said the last thing with a smirk and Kelly knew it was a joke and rolled her eyes at them, relieved.

“You really mean that?” came an unsure voice from the side.

They turned and saw Nathan standing next to Simon. Kelly listen and heard Simon think, he’s heard  from you asking if make-up and stuff make Alisha feel pretty, on a loop. She nodded that she heard and he nodded back.

Alisha and Curtis both nodded and Alisha hugged him while apologizing. Nathan hugged back, careful not to touch bare skin. Curtis apologized as well and they were all happy and relieved when a genuine smile broke through on Nathans features and he joked that he would soon be he prettiest of them all.

The next day he had his normal attire on, but Alisha had brought long gloves so that she could give him purple eyeshadow, mascara, liner and glittery lips. He wouldn’t stop smiling the entire day and he was nicer than before, like he didn’t have to make up for something. Everyone was glad to see him this happy.