#shes the second handsome girl whos been. very nice to me. in a butch way you know. that knowing way. and ive wimped out both times

[borealing]

i was walkin earlier and i made eye contact with the most handsome butch ive ever seen and i smiled and she smiled back and i stg my knees went weak and i had to pretend to be a normal person as i walked past literally the embodiment of this emoji 🥴

[officially-a-bee]

    Amber rummages around, pulling her knives and her whetstone out of her bag. “So.”

“So.” Thom stared at her, dark eyes shining.

“What do you want from me? And stop staring, it’s creepy.”

“What do I want? Amber, I thought you would’ve figured it out by now. I’ve only been following you, trying to talk to you, for the past month.”

“Yes, I noticed and was thoroughly creeped out.” Amber scraped her stone against her blade, and an irritating scraping sound emanated through the room. “The only reason I let you talk to me right now is because I was bored of trying to lose you. Now stop with the guessing game and just tell me why you’re here.”

Thom threw his hands up exasperatedly. “I want your help! You’re one of the best fighters out there, and you have personal ties with Havoc themself. I need your help to save this country!”

“Oh?” Amber tilted her head slightly.

“I’m on an important quest to stop the Dark Army from taking complete control and reigning supreme over this country. They already control the West, the South, and the Northeast; the East Coast is really all that stands between them and total dictatorship. I believe I can stop them and keep the island free, but I can’t do it alone. Will you come with me? It’ll be a long and arduous journey, but you’ll be paid extremely well when the job is done, and then you can go right back to your own quest.”

“What else is in it for me?” Amber asked skeptically.

“What - what else? I just told you, you’d save the world, be known as a beloved hero across the land, and get paid for it, that’s what you get. What else could you want?”

“It’s just, I’m a little busy right now, you know? I’m not sure if this is worth my time.”

Thom looked bewildered. “Worth your time? The fate of the world is at stake! You don’t get to be busy, this is destiny at work!”

“Hmm. Fine.”

“You’ll help me?” Thom lit up.

“Ha. No.” She sat back and chuckled. “No, I don’t help creeps. I just thought it’d be amusing to lead you on.”

“No? Come on! You can’t say no, the world is at stake! What will it take to convince you? My mother’s a wealthy merchant, I’ll pay you handsomely.”

“Oooh, he’ll pay me handsomely, huh? Funny, I thought I was pretty handsome on my own.” Amber shrugged and continued idly sharpening.

“You - well, I wouldn’t call you ‘handsome’, but you are attractive, I have to agree-”

“I didn’t ask. Shut up.”

“Don’t tell me to shut up!” Thom said indignantly. “I am the hero of this realm, and I’m offering you the chance to become a hero too! You should be thanking me!”

“I’ll tell any asshole to shut up if they deserve it, I’ll thank you as soon as you’ve done me a favor, and you’re no hero of mine. No means no. I don’t need to be a hero. I have a job of my own to do.” Amber tested the edge of the blade with her thumb, apparently judged it sharp enough, and pulled out a different knife.

Visibly trying out a different tactic, Thom picked up the finished blade and tested it against his own thumb. “This is a good dagger. Did you choose it yourself? The craftsman must have been very good at his job.”

“No, I slayed a great spider-beast and upon slitting its throat, that knife dropped out into my open palm, which is how I knew I was blessed by the gods.” Amber deadpanned.

“Ah, yes, the trial of the spider beast!” Thom’s eyes lit up. “You are indeed blessed, I had no idea I was in the presence of such an accomplished warrior!”

“Don’t bullshit me. I was being sarcastic. My girlfriend made it for me. Give it back.” Amber didn’t wait for him to hand it over, electing to snatch it away instead.

“Oh! I didn’t realize you travelled with any friends. Where is she? I imagine any friend of yours must be just as lovely as you are.” Thom twisted around to look at the door, as if Keira was about to walk through at that second.

“You’re Western, aren’t you.”

“Yes, how did you know?”

“Never mind.”

The two sat in silence for a moment, Amber casually carrying on with her sharpening, Thom looking around the room for another way to continue the conversation.

“So, what friends do you have, then? You must have allies. Tell me about Havoc!” Thom asked, sounding just a little bit desperate.

“My friends are none of your business. And I imagine what little you do know about Havoc is too much, in their opinion. They prefer the mystique, if you didn’t know.”

Thom blinked. “Well, I - I did know that, but -”

“But you thought I’d go behind their back and spill everything I know about them to you, a stranger I just met who’s been tracking me for the past two months? I think not. Obvious threat of them having me murdered in cold blood the instant I let a secret of theirs pass my lips aside, I don’t betray my friends. To anyone. But especially not to creepy strangers like you.”

Thom sat forward interestedly. “So you just go around with the possibility of them killing you whenever they feel like it hanging over your head? Seems like a pretty one-way friendship, if you ask me. If you came with me, you wouldn’t have to worry about it. I could protect you.”

Amber snorted. “You wish. They’d mow you down faster than you could yell my name in warning. Anyway, just because they’d kill me if I told someone else their personal details, doesn’t mean that they’re not incredibly helpful to me when I need it. We’re business partners, and it’s a hazard of the job.” Amber very pointedly did not include the more personal side of her friendship, and that Havoc was significantly more likely to kill the person who’d heard the detail, rather than she who told it. (At that, she wondered if she could get this asshole out of her hair by telling him some harmless secret. Havoc would have him dead within the week. . . but no, she didn’t want to inconvenience them. If Thom got too annoying, she’d just lead him into the forest and kill him herself.)

Thom did not know how to respond to that.

“So how long until you get out of my hair? My answer isn’t gonna change, you know.”

Thom, looking defeated, stood up slowly. “I hope you reconsider, milady. The world could use you as their hero.”

“I’m not your lady, or a hero. Get out.” Amber flipped the knife she was sharpening, and stared him down. Thom scrambled out the door, and slammed it firmly shut behind him.

***

The next day, Amber went down for breakfast, but Thom was still there, this time accompanied by a short-haired blond woman in leather armor. Unlike the previous night, when Thom had arrived unarmed, both warriors had swords strapped to their belts - Thom with a large double-handed thing, and the woman with a black shortsword so short it could have been mistaken as a large everyday butcher knife had the handle been crafted slightly different. Thom perked up when he saw Amber enter the room, and he said something to his companion; she scowled, but nodded, and he bounded across the room.

“Amber! Good morning! Have you thought about my offer any more, now you’ve slept on it a bit?” He smiled brightly, as if he was trying to radiate charm from his pores.

“I didn’t, because why would I when I already answered you and considered the matter ended,” Amber said flatly.

At that, the blond woman swished up behind Thom, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Hello, Amber. My name’s Sam. I heard you were indecisive, and I hoped-”

“Not to be rude, but I’m just going to stop you there. I’m not indecisive. I don’t want to go with you at all. I have my own business to attend to.”

Sam deflated. “Are you sure? We could really use you, you know. I’ve heard so much about you and your accomplishments.”

Amber shrugged. “It wasn’t that great. I had a lot of help, from people who most definitely would not want to work with you.”

Sam stepped closer, and nudged Thom out of the way. He peeled away for the bar, interpreting that it might be easier to have someone else try to convince Amber. He was wrong, but Amber didn’t mind the alone time with the woman - she was pretty, and seemed nice.

“Do you mind me asking what you’re trying to do, Amber? What’s so important that the entire country can wait?”

“My girlfriend got kidnapped. I’m saving her,” Amber said simply.

“Oh! I’m sorry to hear that. Maybe if you came with us, we could help you on the way to our own fight.” Sam sounded sympathetic.

“Look, I know it’s not what you want to hear, but I don’t work with people I don’t know, and I don’t need any more help. I’m good where I am. I appreciate the offer, though - your boy over there expected me to be on my knees thanking him for giving me a chance, after he offered me nothing but gold and renown.” Amber nodded towards the bar, where Thom had struck up a drinking competition with five other men, and a dozen other people had circled around them urging them to drink! drink! drink!

Sam rolled her eyes. “Yeah, he’s a little bit full of himself like that. But he’s got a great heart, I promise. He’d help you in an instant if you asked.”

“But only if it was convenient to him, right?”

“I don’t - well, probably, but what do you mean by convenient? We’ll go get your girlfriend, it wouldn’t be an issue -”

“I mean,” Amber said tiredly, “that I’ve been tracking this girl overseas for a year now. It’s not a matter of skipping over to the dragon’s lair, slaying it, and going home happily ever after. Pirates have her. It’s complicated.”

Sam was quiet for a moment. “Oh,” she said softly. “You’re right, then. Thom wouldn’t be too happy about having to deal with that. I’m sorry.”

“Didn’t think so.”

The two sat in silence, somewhat more companionably than the previous night with Thom, but it was awkward nonetheless. They turned their attention to the bar, where a short, rough, butch woman had shown up to challenge Thom and the other men. She was efficiently drinking them all under the table; a few people nearby whooped appreciatively.

Sam turned her bright, ice-blue eyes back to Amber. “I really am sorry about your girlfriend. I wish I could do more.”

Amber shrugged. “You could come with me.”

“Oh - you know I couldn’t. What we’re doing, it’s really important too, you know.”

“Worth a shot.”

“Is there anything else I can do?” Sam asked. “Resources, weapons. . . Thom knows a bladesmith in town, if there was anything you needed.”

“I have so many knives on me right now, you have no idea. I’m good. Thanks, though.” To demonstrate, Amber pulled three from the lining of her jacket, stabbing them into the table.

Sam nodded understandably. She stood up, bobbing her head respectfully at Amber. “I think, then, if your answer is definitely not going to change, I’m going to go get Thom and take my leave. We have other business to attend to in town.”  

“Have fun.” Amber wiggled her fingers, somewhat dismissively, and focused on dislodging her knives from the bar table. One knife got its tip broken off, and she swore at it. Sam hurried away, retrieved Thom from his place among the drunken bar buddies, and went for the exit.

***

Later that day, Amber headed to the town’s market to restock on dry goods for her journey, and she ran into the pair a third time. Sam was doing business with the butcher, and Thom, still drunk, had been stationed on a crate some ways away and was trying to stop the sunlight from making it anywhere near his face. A crowd had gathered to laugh at him.

Sam finished whatever she was doing, turned around, and called out to Amber brightly. “I know you said you didn’t want help,” Sam said quickly, striding over, “but just a few minutes after we left, I remembered something that might be of some use to you.”

Amber arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Sam reached into her pack, and drew out a small throwing knife. “I want to give this to you.”

“I appreciate the thought, but I’m not really a throwing knife type of girl.”

“Listen. It’s an elven blade, enchanted to always stay sharp and always hit its target. It’s served me well in the past. I know it’s not your style, but it just might help in a pinch. It was a gift from a friend, who told me to pass it on when I no longer had need of it. I want you to have it.”

She pushed the knife and its accompanying tiny sheath into Amber’s hands, anxiously waiting for a response.

“. . . I’m sure I’ll find some way to use it,” Amber said begrudgingly. Sam’s face lit up, and she threw her arms around her.

“Make sure to pass it on when you don’t need it anymore! It’s tradition!”

Amber acknowledged that she would, and the two parted ways with amicable goodbyes.

***

In fact, Amber found a use for it that very same day. Luckily, the bladesmith in town knew the real value of elven blades. After buying herself some sturdy new travelling clothes with the money she got for it, she treated herself to a jar of honey and a jug of wine for the road, and still had coins to spare.

[arizonaconservativegal]

First of all, thanks for replying. And thanks to the people in the notes who followed up, as well. In terms of interests, while I would love someone who shares a lot of them, I really only have one that's necessary. As an aspiring game developer, games are my art form, especially the world building and the mechanics and systems in place. I want someone who shares this love, who I can bond over with. Anything else would just be icing on the cake. In terms of appearance, I'd prefer if she were shorter than me by a good amount, ideally at or below 5' 6" but I'm fine as long as she's not above like 5' 10". I'm not the leanest person myself, I've got a little belly, but I'm working on it and slowly losing weight. I don't mind if she's a little chubby either, but if she's really fat I just can't go with that. I'm probably a little hypocritical here as I'd obviously prefer someone who's in shape, but I can find some heavier women attractive as long as they're short and feminine. I dislike body modifications, and would prefer someone without any, but I could deal with a few small tattoos and a few piercings, as long as they're not gauges or septum piercings. And obviously she needs to want kids (but not have any), needs to be not a full-on leftist (I'm fine with a centrist, conservative, or ideally a libertarian), and just have a nice personality that gels with mine. I tend to be a pretty low-key, somewhat boring person, and have trouble dealing with people who have "big" personalities. I find that at my age, it's hard to find someone who wants kids but doesn't have any, and who likes games but isn't butch or seriously fat or really punk or whatever. Those are pretty much my lines in the sand, appearance and personality-wise. Do I have too many of them? Are there things I should care less about? As I said, I've never been in a relationship, so I really don't know what's important and what's not. I'm just basing what I want on what I personally prefer.

And I know what I need to do to become more attractive, myself. Lose some weight, get a better job, move out. Is there anything else I need to do, and what should I prioritize? Right now I'm thinking about trying for a raise at work, but I'm also worried it'll put me over the pay limit for subsidized healthcare, and I've got a lot of health problems that are out of my control. I'd need to jump to a job with actual benefits to make it really worth it, so it'll be hard just moving up gradually.

And finally, just because I'm spilling everything out here anyway, there's a girl at work who recently broke up with her boyfriend of 5 years who I've been becoming quite friendly with. She's always enjoyable to talk to, and she seems to like me at least as a friend. However she's not got a lot in common with me. There's a guy who clearly likes her, and she has a friend that's probably into her, and I knew her ex and they all have a similar look that's very different to me. I think she also tends to go for "bad boys" and I'm definitely not one of them. She recently asked about my interests and stuff kind of probing more deeply, but since I basically haven't had any friends for years I don't know if that's just what's normal or if she's actually a little bit interested in me. Honestly I'm not sure what to do or if I should even do anything. She's basically a normie and I'm borderline autistic. I'm not used to anyone actually being interested in anything about me and I don't know how to tell one kind of "interest" from another. And considering she's a coworker and I enjoy her company, I don't want to fuck anything up. What do I do?

Ok there's a lot to unpack here...

First of all, I'm not going to be that person who tells you looks don't matter because let's all be honest here for a second, they do and anyone who says otherwise is lying for internet morality points. Obviously if you're going to date someone, you need to not be repulsed by their physical appearance.

But. Looks are not the most important thing and they're also not permanent. Plus in my experience, the more you get to know someone, the more attractive they become to you because you just see people differently when you love them. So don't worry so much about finding the most beautiful girl you've ever seen, or being the most handsome guy she's ever seen. When it's right, that stuff will handle itself.

(Also, I'm not saying you did this, but if you put all that in your online dating profile, please delete it immediately because it will scare women off if it's public and even if it's just for the algorithm, you're probably losing a lot of potentially good matches by being too specific)

I would think a little more about personality. It can be a lot harder to define that than appearance, but that's the part of her that you're going to really fall for. What does "big" personality mean to you? Does that mean just being loud, or is it a certain kind of humor, or just being extroverted or outgoing? Think a little about the people you enjoy spending time with and figure out what it is about them that makes you want to be around them. Interests are a good starting point, but try to think about what drives those interests and how they express them.

And think about you too. How would you describe yourself? I'd guess with your interest in game development, you probably have a big imagination and attention to detail, yeah? Do you have a dry sense of humor, maybe? Are you a patient person? Do you prefer to be busy or to take it easy? When you get stressed out, what calms you down? What are your values in life?

Think about what kind of person complements all that. Remember you're looking for a partner, someone to build a life with. That means the two of you have to make a good team. You'll bring out the best in each other and compensate for each other's weaknesses.

As for the changes you think you need to make, I'm going to let you in a little secret about women: there is nothing sexier to us than a guy who has his shit together. And that doesn't mean you need a fancy law degree and a six figure office job and a mortgage. It means knowing who you are and what you want and be working a clear, realistic plan to get there.

So yes, everything you mentioned is probably a good idea because it sounds like that will help you have more confidence and get on more solid ground with your life and future. But as for what you should do first, just focus on what is best for you, not for some hypothetical future wife you haven't met yet. It sounds to me like you've still got some healing to do and that needs to be your priority.

But when you're ready, the only thing to do is start talking to people and go on lots of dates that will mostly go nowhere. That's okay. The point is to meet girls and see if there's enough there for a second date, then maybe a third, and so on. You're not looking for something that's perfect right away. You're just looking for a starting point to build something more from.

In your case, yes, you probably do need to find a girl who at least has some interest in video games. It's going to be too much of your life for her to not at least be willing to indulge you when you want to talk about the game you're working on. I would guess that there are a lot of girls in "nerd" category who maybe don't know much about video games but would be interested if someone they cared about wanted to show them. Or if you really want to start off with just a pool of people who are as interested in game development as you, I'd hazard a guess that there are conventions or online forums on the subject. Maybe check out some of those and just start talking to people. Maybe it goes nowhere. Maybe you make a new friend. Maybe more. Who knows?

As for the girl at work, I think you're setting yourself up to get hurt. Girls who go for bad boys don't usually change their habits easily. She may be interested in you because you're not like her ex and she's trying to try something different, but that doesn't usually last. It isn't that you're doing anything wrong, it really is just how girls like that are. And it doesn't make any sense but it's how it is.

In general though, if you're getting to know a girl and you're not sure if she's looking for a friend or a boyfriend, it's okay to ask. Don't be creepy about it or anything, but it's okay to say something like "I just want to make sure I'm not reading too much into this." And be prepared to drop it if she says she just wants to be friends.

(Also my rule for dating coworkers is this: if it's a job you plan to stay at long term and you work closely together, the answer is no. If it's more of a temporary thing or you really only pass her in the hall once a week, that's probably okay as long as your company doesn't have some policy against it)

Bottom line, you're overthinking this. Love isn't logical. You can make all the plans and checklists in the world and none of them matter because that's just not how it works. Trust me, if it was, I'd be married by now too.

All you can really do is be the best version of yourself for you, meet a bunch of people, probably get your heart broken a couple of times along the way, and eventually you'll find someone who makes it all worth it.

-

As a side note, are you in a good church? If you're a person of faith at all (and I'm an atheist, so no judgement if you're not), I think having a community like that around you would be good for you right now.

[of-wrens-and-whirlwinds-blog]

Sometimes Speed-Dating Works

Commission for the sweetest @depressedstressedlemonzest! Commission info can be found here!

~

Temperance, called Tami, inspected herself in the mirror, and was pleased with what she saw. Ever since she’d started making her own clothes, she’d felt drawn to early Edwardian fashion, and her newest outfit showed her growing skill. With the addition of her hat and purse, she cut quite the dashing figure.

She also knew that there were few who would admire her talent with her body underneath. But honestly, fuck them.

The speed-date she’d signed up for was being held at a rather low-end cafe a few blocks over that was at least big enough to contain a steady stream of moving people. She wavered on whether to walk or take the bus… then decided to walk. It would put pink in her cheeks, at least.

Her neighbors were used to her, and stepped out of her way easily. It was when she left her neighborhood that people started looking at her oddly. She ignored it. It was like this everywhere. So what?

The cafe was crowded. The person assigning seats at the door completely overlooked Tami, until she cleared her throat politely and said, “I’m here for the date, too.”

“Oh!” He smiled, but it looked more like a wince. “Sorry, sorry. What’s your name?”

“Tami Smith.”

“Right, okay. Uhhh, you have the eighth seat down from this direction, on the left side.”

“Thank you.”

“Mm-hm.” Another wincing smile, and Tami moved on, resisting the urge to shake her head. Honestly, these fast-fashion addicts were worse than her own family.

~

Settling in one of the folding chairs provided for this occasion, she heard it creak faintly. Cheap. She rearranged her skirts and waited.

The first man wouldn’t stop staring at her bosom, and answered her friendly questions with monosyllabic answers. She did not miss his relief when the timer went off.

The second man tried harder, but he seemed put off by her outfit, and was in general rather cagey.

The first woman was braced, and immediately started making comments on how “brave” Tami was to come to one of these things. Tami was polite back, but she was very annoyed and was quite happy when the timer rang.

It was disappointment after disappointment. Not that Tami had had high hopes; mostly this was just a way to pass the time, and maybe talk to someone who wasn’t her coworkers, neighbors, or family. But this was boring, and annoying, and she almost regretted signing up.

Then a tall, muscular woman sat across from her, and Tami’s expectations cranked up several notches. Because the other woman was dressed Edwardian, too, but somewhat lower-class than Tami’s preferred wardrobe. They just stared at each other for a moment.

Then the woman grinned, and said, “I’m Kimi.”

“I’m Tami.”

“Where’d you get that hat? It looks great with your face shape.”

Tami blushed faintly and smiled. “A milliner in London. I went to stay there for work for a few months.”

“London! I’ve only ever been to Stratford-Upon-Avond, and not for long.” Kimi seemed… genuinely interested, leaning forward on her brawny forearms, her sleeves rolled up neatly and showing her muscle. She wasn’t a body-builder type, but she certainly did some form of exercise that built muscle. Tami found herself being maybe a teensy bit more interested in Kimi than she’d expected. “Where do you work, that you got to visit England?”

“I’m in marketing, but I was flown out to work on details with the sister-firm in London.”

Conversation flowed so naturally between them, and Tami found herself becoming very interested. Kimi made her own clothes, too, and thought that Tami’s were excellent quality; she was an accountant, but she worked out because sitting for so long every day made her restless; her parents had been from Laos, but moved to America for her father’s work. Tami answered in kind: Kimi’s tailoring was impeccable, her taste in time periods exquisite (they both laughed at that); marketing was fine, but it was her coworkers who annoyed her so much that sometimes during lunch she would take long walks to work out her anger; her own parents were Michiganders, born and bred, but Tami had moved because she couldn’t stand her family. They talked about hobbies, and books, and when the timer went off, they scribbled their phone numbers on napkins and exchanged them, before the next “date” arrived.

Tami felt a glow of triumph throughout the rest of the evening, and when everyone was standing and leaving, a few folks found her and offered their numbers. She took them with thanks, but she knew she wasn’t going to call them. Actually, it wasn’t until she was on the sidewalk waiting for the light to turn green that she realized she didn’t want to talk to anyone but Kimi.

“’Ello, m’lady,” a familiar voice in a terrible English accent said beside her. She grinned and turned. It wasn’t very usual for her to need to look up at other women, but Kimi was several inches taller than her. Kimi grinned back. “Can I walk you home?” she asked Tami.

“That would be delightful,” Tami replied.

They continued talking all the way to Tami’s apartment building. It was… nice. Kimi waited until Tami was inside to leave. Tami couldn’t help grinning giddily as she ascended the stairs to her floor.

When she had divested herself of her suit and put on her nightgown, she texted Kimi to ask if she’d reached home safely. Kimi replied only three minutes later in the affirmative.

I really liked our date tonight. Do you want to go for coffee next Saturday?

Tami didn’t even hesitate. That sounds wonderful! When and where were you thinking?

~

The coffee date was a success. So was the dinner the next week. So was the kiss after Kimi walked Tami up to her doorstep.

Tami’s coworkers seemed baffled when she came to work happy, and were even more baffled when she said she’d started dating.

“You just, you always seemed so work-oriented,” David said weakly, glancing at her waist.

“I can be fat and date,” Tami replied calmly, sipping her coffee.

“That’s not...” Tami met his gaze steadily, and David decided not to be even more of a dick.

But that comment got Tami thinking. Kimi had never commented on her size, whether to praise or insult, and in fact, she never even seemed to notice. Her arms fit nicely around Tami’s waist and she made room for her in crowded places as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It was lovely, and Tami was both pleased and puzzled.

They had another date planned that Saturday. A stroll through the park, and then dinner at a fancy restaurant, Kimi’s treat. Tami dressed in her newest suit, pink and peachy-gold, with white lace. Kimi was picking her up; she would text when she was there. So Tami spent time searching the internet for that glove-maker who had made those lovely silk opera gloves for her. Unfortunately, the glove-maker was not taking custom orders at that time. Not surprising, since they were now much more in demand. Still, a little disappointing. Tami would’ve liked to order some proper driving gloves for Kimi.

Her phone trilled, and she snatched it up eagerly.

I’m here! And there’s a lout by the door looking shady.

I’ll be down shortly. It’s probably Jacob. He’s always forgetting his keys.

Tami stood, fluffed her skirts, made sure of her purse, secured her hat, and swept out of her apartment.

When she reached the foyer, she found three girls whispering nervously to each other. Seeing her looking at them, they moved quickly out of her way.

“Are you alright?” Tami asked them, surprised. “I don’t recognize any of you.”

“There’s a guy outside,” one of the girls blurted.

Tami immediately straightened, and took out her phone. “Just a moment, girls,” she murmured, and texted Kimi.

There’s some frightened young girls in here. That lout might have been following them.

On it.

The slam of a car door. The door and walls were too well-made for Tami to hear words, but she definitely heard an angry male voice. And then that voice screamed, and Kimi rumbled something, and there was the sound of running and crying.

Kimi knocked politely on the door, and when Tami opened it cautiously, shielding the girls, Kimi smiled. She looked so handsome and dapper, her slightly-skewed hat the only indicator that there had been any kind of confrontation. “I broke his arm,” she said frankly.

There was a sigh of relief and a hysterical giggle from the girls behind Tami. She turned, and asked them, “Can you call yourselves a ride?”

“Yeah,” the girl who had spoken earlier replied. “We just… didn’t want to go past him.”

“Fair enough,” Kimi said. “Good luck. Stay safe.” She offered her arm to Tami, and with a final wave to the girls, they left.

They were both silent in the car for a few minutes. Then Tami asked, “Why did you break his arm?”

“I always break their arms,” Kimi replied calmly. “If a man scares or hurts a girl or woman, I break his arm. That’s how it works.”

Tami bit her lip, then asked softly, “Kimi, what happened?”

More silence. Finally, Kimi said, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Tami nodded, and didn’t mention it again.

The walk around the park was calm enough that they both relaxed, and Tami asked about work. Kimi grimaced and said, “Oh, they’re planning to fire people. For the good of the company. If I’m not one of the lucky few chosen to be booted, I’ll be the one tasked with removing them from the system. Which shouldn’t be so hard, except our software is bullcrap.”

“That’s not fair!” Tami exclaimed, straightening in outrage. “You told me they’ve already laid people off.”

“Yeah.” Kimi took off her hat and ran her fingers through her hair. “I need to find a new job. Kinda hard, though, when you’re a giant butch and don’t care about hiding it.”

Tami snorted derisively. “Any company would be lucky to have your skills. Can you get a job as a fashion designer?”

Kimi laughed. “Yeah, sure, let me just whip out my portfolio from college ten years ago and apply to the nearest fashion house,” she joked, grinning at Tami.

“I’m not joking,” Tami replied flatly. “I’ve seen your patterns and sketches, Kimi. You’d be an amazing designer. Tell you what—we’ll start our own business. You design, I’ll photograph, and we’ll both sew. You can sell patterns, too.”

Kimi’s smile slipped, and she looked genuinely surprised. Tami tucked her hand in Kimi’s elbow and said, “Of course, we don’t have to start tomorrow. Just… think about it, maybe?”

“Yeah,” Kimi said, and her voice was maybe a little breathless. “Yeah, okay.” Then she cleared her throat, and looked away, and asked, “How was work for you this week?”

Tami snorted. “Annoying. My coworkers don’t believe me that I’m dating you. And god, Nate was so annoying about his son’s birthday...”

Kimi relaxed as Tami continued talking, and soon they were both smiling and laughing again. They almost missed their reservation, walking around the park and talking. But they arrived in time, and even though the hostess gave them strange looks, they didn’t worry. The meal was quiet, but in a safe, content way. When dessert arrived, Tami asked Kimi softly, “Do you want to come over and watch a movie tonight?”

Kimi actually blushed, but grinned. “I’d like that,” she replied simply.

Tami couldn’t help feeling smug as Kimi put her arm around Tami’s waist as they left. When they got to Tami’s building, they snuck up the stairs with a delicious sense of getting away with something. The only moment Tami realized this might have been a bad idea was when she opened her door and led Kimi in—and realized her place was a mess of fabric scraps, tailoring supplies, and pieces of paper from modified patterns.

“Oh dear,” she said, beginning to blush. “Um. Please pardon the mess.”

Kimi laughed and kicked off her shoes. “My place is far worse,” she promised, coming up behind Tami and putting her hands on Tami’s waist. She surveyed the apartment over Tami’s head, while the shorter woman blushed deeply. She really wasn’t used to such intimate positioning. “At least your furniture matches.”

That made Tami laugh, too, and she leaned back in Kimmi’s arms tentatively, smiling wider as Kimi slid her arms comfortably around her. “Yes, well, I still don’t think puce couches work with lavender walls, but it’s something.”

“It certainly is. Oh, shoot, your hat! Sorry, I squished it a little.”

“Fuck the hat. Let me get out of this rig and we can lounge around watching silly home reno shows.”

Kimi laughed again. “Sounds perfect,” she said, with such warmth that Tami found herself reluctant to ever move from Kimi’s grip.

But move she must. So she did, and hurriedly chose her most comfortable kimono before taking off her suit and hanging it up carefully. Wrapping the kimono firmly around herself, she blushed to realize that she was, essentially, in just her underwear and a bathrobe. Was that… too much?

Probably. But she didn’t think Kimi would mind.

When she exited her bedroom, she grinned to see Kimmi taking up the whole couch, stretched out and propped up on either end, with the remote on her chest. She’d taken off her jacket and her suspenders, and when she saw Tami, she blushed furiously.

“Your house, you choose,” she drawled, picking up the remote and turning on the TV.

“Wrong way around. House guest chooses program.” Tami walked over and stood beside the couch, putting her hands on her hips. “Are you going to leave some space for me?” she demanded.

Kimi grinned wickedly. “I did,” she replied, and patted her stomach.

It was out before Tami could stop it—“What if I hurt you?”

Kimi snorted. “Unlikely. If I can pick you up, you won’t hurt me.”

“You can’t pick me up,” Tami accused, trying to ignore the tingles of happiness.

A sigh, and Kimi sat up, stood, turned to Tami—and picked her right up, arms firm around Tami’s thighs. Tami yelped, and then laughed, and smacked the back of Kimi’s shoulder lightly. “Alright, alright, you win! Put me down!”

“Fine, fine,” Kimi sighed, and put her down, gently. But then she swept Tami up princess-style and plopped back on the couch in her former position, cuddling her host firmly and comfortably. Tami hid her face in Kimi’s collar to hide her increased blushing and frankly giddy smile.

“What show do you want?” Kimi asked, picking up the remote.

~

Three months later, Tami woke to Kimi stroking her hair thoughtfully.

They’d started spending more time at each other’s apartments, and agreed to call each other their girlfriend. It had been a while for both of them, but this was… a good thing, that they had. Tami closed her eyes again and smiled as Kimi kept running her fingertips through Tami’s hair. Maybe they could sleep in some more. It was Sunday, after all. Five more minutes.

“Tami?”

She wrinkled her nose, but answered, “Yeah?”

“I’ve been thinking. About what you said a few months ago. About… starting our own online business, with clothes and stuff.”

Tami was instantly awake, and leaned her head back to look up at Kimi’s face. “You have?” she asked, surprised. She had thought Kimi had forgotten.

Kimi frowned a little, but nodded. “I was thinking… maybe you’re right,” she said slowly. “Maybe we could do something like that. Not full-time, I don’t think we could manage that, but… as a side thing.”

Tami smiled, slowly. “Kimi, love, that would be fantastic!”

Kimi smiled too, small and hopeful. “You think so?” she asked.

“Absolutely!”

“Good. Then we’ll do it.” Kimi kissed Tami deeply, then asked, “Shower or breakfast first?”

[artlessictoan]

ao3 req for femme sak/butch tema where they’re at a con and tema is a cosplayer with a big fuck off weapon. gotta admit, the biggest difficulty was who the fuck they’d be cosplaying as since it turns out I’m not familiar with many gigantic weapon wielding characters in any of the things I watch or play.. I was sorely tempted to have them cosplaying as themselves for a while there.

(requests open)

(ao3 mirror)

---

This place was too loud, and crowded, and she was sorely regretting wearing an outfit with quite so many frills and petticoats – no matter how cute she looked in it, the heat of a thousand bodies packed together in a poorly ventilated hall was just not worth it.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this, what was the point in dressing up, I don't think anyone's even looked at me since we got here.”

Naruto was still waving goodbye to the kid who’d asked to have her picture taken with his particularly campy take on Aquaman, though her words quickly had him giving her a Look out of the corner of his eyes, a knowing smirk plastered across her face. “Your ego is showing,” he sang.

She was definitely not pouting. “Easy for you to say, how many photos have you been in so far?”

“Yeah, but I asked to be in most of those.” He had to jog to keep up with her long strides, but he still managed to throw out several compliments to some of the other cosplayers they passed by.

“Exactly! How are you so confident just walking up to complete strangers and asking that?”

“You just gotta be more like me,” he said, and it was a testament to their friendship that he knew exactly what she was going to say in response to that, because the second she opened her mouth, he interrupted her. “Loud and with absolutely zero shame!”

Well, she wasn’t going to argue with that.

Together, they navigated their way around a large group of very excited teens clustered around an artist’s stall, her friend still nattering at her side, “It's your first time at a con, of course it takes some getting used to, don't be so hard on yourself.”

He was right, annoyingly, but she’d always been something of a perfectionist and she’d put so much time and effort into her elaborate cosplay – hours of researching patterns and materials, practising various sewing techniques before she ever even touched the base dress she’d managed to discover hidden in a charity shop after almost two weeks of searching, hell, she’d even had to learn how to dye cloth in order to get the perfect colours for her grand idea – just a little appreciation of her work would be nice.

“I’m pretty sure no one is impressed with me,” she said, pulling at the ruffles lining her bodice, “I’ve seen at least six other Princess Peaches wondering around and they’re all way more convincing than I am.” And by convincing, what she really meant was slender and delicate.

Both things with she was decidedly not.

Naruto clearly saw her reasoning, because he was quick to try and pull her out of it. “You’re exaggerating!”

“No one wants to take a picture of a buff Princess Peach.”

“Hey-” he grabbed her gloved hand and pulled her away to a relatively quiet area, his voice and expression deadly serious “-you look amazing and I won’t hear another word otherwise, buff femmes are a gift to the world and you should be proud.”

Rolling her eyes, she pushed him back with a snort. “I know that dummy, I’m not feeling sad, I’m just pissed that no one here has any taste.”

Indeed, her body was another thing she worked very hard to perfect and she was absolutely not ashamed to show it off. Though it did make finding an equally – if not more – strapping butch who’d treat her like the princess she absolutely deserved to be a little difficult. She was a simple girl, with simple tastes, all she wanted was a handsome woman who could bench Sakura’s not inconsiderable bodyweight.

“You sure you’re not just sulking, because you’re not the most popular girl in town?”

“Do you want to get punched? Because that right there is the kind of talk that will get you pun…” Her voice cut out in a breathy gasp.

Samus Aran herself was casually waltzing down the aisle.

Sakura grabbed Naruto's arm for support, as every hopelessly gay bone in her body crumbled to dust.

His asking what was wrong went completely ignored, she could only stare at the vision marching between tables, the crowd instinctively parting before her, like minnows before a shark, all eyes turning to follow her strong, confident strides.

“Daaaaamn.” Naruto had apparently followed her hungry gaze, because he let out a long, appreciative whistle. “How long do you think that getup took to make?”

Unlike the handful of other Samus cosplays she'd seen today, this was the character as she was meant to be, fully armoured, shoulders wider than a bus, legs for days, well over six feet of pure Warrior. Her hand cannon was somewhat… exaggerated – compared to canon at least – but honestly, that just made Sakura's throat even drier.

And, just when she thought all air had long since vacated her body, Samus pulled off her helmet and the dark face with a roguish smirk and mess of blond curls pulled into a chaotic ponytail that was revealed stole the lingering gasp she didn’t know she still had in her.

“Hey. Sak. Sakura. Oi.” She vaguely heard the words coming from somewhere to her left, but could not bring herself to look away.

A rough hand slapped across her eyes.

“Hey!” she yelled – well, tried to yell, breathless as she was it came out more as a wheeze than anything even slightly intimidating – and whacked Naruto's hand away.

“Oh, good, you're still alive, you were starting to turn purple there, I was worried I'd lost you.”

Her glare was half-hearted at best, but it was probably a good thing he'd reminded her that she still had many important bodily functions that really shouldn’t be put on hold just because a pretty girl walked by. Though, now that she was thinking about it, she really wanted to sneak another peek at the vision of Raw Amazonian Energy that had left her in such a state to begin with.

The woman was now chatting to a very convincing Bayonetta, her wide grin showing off white teeth and crinkling her slightly crooked nose – it looked like it must've been broken at some point, but Sakura was very much into the rugged look, so frankly it just made her all the more mesmerised.

“You should go talk to her.”

She blinked out of her trance once more, as her head snapped around to stare at her best friend. “What? No. No way. How?”

Naruto, bless his heart, just smiled and said, “Walk up and tell her you really like her costume,” as though that wasn't such a monumentally impossible task that she wanted to weep just thinking about it.

“Are you fucking kidding me.”

“C'mon, it's not that hard," he said, dropping an arm across her shoulders. "I bet she gets it all the time, there's nothing to be embarrassed about!”

Sakura dug her heels into the floor as he gently, but determinedly, tried to push her forward. She might’ve had more success if she weren’t wearing such dainty pumps. “Exactly, she's probably sick of it and I should just leave her alone and admire her silently from afar.”

Naruto, bless his heart, looked at her like she was the stupidest person alive.

Honestly, she couldn't really say that she wasn't.

Before she could distract him by pointing out the stall selling ninja gear at the opposite end of the alley to where Samus was waving goodbye to Bayonetta, he was shoving her firmly in the direction of the beautiful thief of her heart, despite her legs’ adamant refusal to cooperate with his wishes.

“No, no, Naruto, don't you dare do this to me, I will end you, I will slit open your stomach and strangle you with your own intestines, I will-”

Her deranged muttering came to an abrupt halt when her friend carefully lifted her by the arms and threw her into the poor, unsuspecting woman’s chest.

The way she was caught wasn't half as suave and romantic as every period drama she'd ever watched had led her to believe it should be and the armour the woman was wearing was apparently made of steel, if the painful clanging of her forehead against it was anything to go by, but they both managed to stay standing and a deep, husky laugh was quickly washing away all memories of pain and embarrassment. And quite possibly her own name.

“Woah there, Princess,” a warm voice cooed softly, as Sakura finally managed to blink her vision back into place and stand up by herself. “You alright?”

She then made the terrible mistake of looking up, into the intense green eyes staring down at her, light curls of hair framing her strong, striking face like a halo – and that just had to be what she was, an angel, no earthly being had any right being so perfect – at which point she lost all higher brain functions. Perhaps she managed to make a strangled affirmative noise, because the woman gave a relieved smile and took a small step back, though her hand lingered against Sakura’s waist, ready to support her if needed.

“That’s good, the crowds can get a bit wild here, huh?”

Her mouth must’ve been acting on autopilot now, because she was speaking, before she even really processed the question, “Oh, it wasn’t the crowd it was-”

Naruto.

Flicking her gaze all around her, she searched for the tell-tale blond spikes of her best-friend-turned-worst-enemy, but, alas, he had melted away into the throng of people surrounding them, forever lost. Which was probably a smart idea, because when she next saw him, she was going to destroy the idiot.

“Never mind,” she said, giving one last glare to an innocent bystander, who very quickly turned around and started walking back the way they came, “just a friend being a dick.”

The woman’s brows furrowed slightly in confusion, but she quickly shrugged it away and lifted her ludicrous hand cannon to rest in the nook between her exaggerated shoulder pads and her neck. “Well, even if it was a bit violent, it’s nice to meet you; name’s Temari.”

Sakura just barely managed to stutter out her own name, before her eyes decided that this was the perfect time to greedily drink in her elaborately realistic cosplay while she was up close. The longer she looked, the more awed and – in the subtle way of a fellow creative witnessing a masterpiece – somewhat jealous she became. “That costume is just… amazing, are those actual LED lights or is it just glow paint? And how’d you work out the joints in the armour?”

“Not a damn clue! My brother’s the artist, I just model some of his work for him-” she flicked a glossy business card out of a small, hidden compartment in her arm cannon and held it out to her “-he does commissions if you’re interested.”

Well, shit. There went any hope of a common interest.

While Sakura was trying not to pout at the words ‘Black Ant Costuming’ and come up with a graceful escape route, Temari snorted. “And in return for doing all his advertising for him, I got him to make me a Samus costume, because no one else has the figure to do her justice.”

The wink she gave was at once both shamelessly theatrical and utterly devastating. Sakura was pretty sure that her brain had just melted into a puddle of love-struck goop and was no longer controlling her body’s actions – it was the only excuse she would accept for the breathless, swooning giggle she let out in response.

“Th-that you do,” Sakura said, only half aware of what she was even saying anymore.

Her extremely besotted state was probably clear to everyone in a ten-meter radius, but Temari had the grace not to point it out directly.

No, her eyes were too busy scanning up and down Sakura’s own outfit. “Not that you really need Kankuro’s help, you look super cute already.” Apparently Temari didn’t notice the blood rushing to her head fast enough to explode it, because she barrelled on without a care for her heart’s wellbeing, “That dress… are those the lesbian flag colours, or is my bi ass just reading into things again?”

Shit, she was definitely making a weird face by this point. “I-I wasn’t expecting anyone to notice-” she said, her voice sounding a million miles away.

Temari leaned down a little, the golden-brown skin of her cheeks turned just slightly red and her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “You know, I actually ship Samus and Peach real fuckin’ hard, and you are straight-up adorable, mind if we take a cute shippy pic together? Just a hug is fine if you’re not comfortable wi-”

Sakura had spent many years trying to smother that loud, aggressive, unrestrained side of herself under layers of shy, demure femininity. How well it had historically worked was up for debate, but, now, in the face of a gorgeous woman who ticked every one of her boxes – and several she didn’t realise she had, she thought, once more eyeing up the oversized weapon Temari waved about with ease – her carefully constructed façade was immediately thrown out the window.

“NARUTO!”

All around her, people jumped, even Temari flinched and took a step back. Just as she was getting ready to yell again, she saw a familiar face peek up from behind an artist’s table; she knew he wouldn’t have gone far when there was the opportunity to watch Sakura fail at flirting to enjoy.

She pulled her phone out of her purse and threw it at him. “Hurry up and get over here, you’re taking pictures of us.”

Just barely saving her phone from an untimely meeting with the cold hard ground, he clambered over the table he was hiding behind, apologising profusely to the poor vendor whose stock he was rearranging.

Sakura paid him no mind, spinning back to face a slightly bewildered – but very amused – Temari. “Hold me bridal-style while I kiss your cheek.”

A single brow raised, before that smug grin that had so captivated Sakura in the first place returned and she was effortlessly hoisted in two strong arms. She was so thrilled to be there; she didn’t even think to complain about the hard plastic covering them. Especially not when Temari whispered in her ear, “As you wish, my Princess.”

---

[sittingoverheredreaming]

A Worthy Home

My first-ever commission (!!!) comes from the incredibly wonderful and generous @rhiorhino, who asked for fluff of Seiya and Usagi buying their first house. It clocks in at a final word count of about 2300 words. I HOPE YOU ENJOY <3 <3

________

Seiya had come to the shrine to ask Rei about the future, but she shouldn’t have been surprised to find Yaten at the front stall, selling charms to already over-charmed girls.

“I don’t even believe in these things,” Yaten said to one of them, twirling one of the tags in their fingers. “I’m just here to make money.”

“Oh Yaten,” the girl squealed as she took the charm. “You’ve always been such a bad boy.”

Yaten frowned. “I’m not a boy.” They took the charm back. “Next.”

“But…” The girl stood dumbfounded. “I paid for that.”

“A small pittance to me for dealing with you. Next.”

Seiya watched the girl’s face morph from confusion to the verge of tears to anger. “You can’t do that!”

“You know what, you’re probably right.” Seiya jogged over and plucked the charm from Yaten’s hand and shoved it at her. “But if you’re going to come see them, you should read their interviews, yeah? Or their Wikipedia page. Whatever helps you be nice.”

The girl did not swoon the way Seiya had hoped, instead scowling. “You guys got so weird when you stopped making music.” She left, her gaggle of friends trailing behind her loyally.

“I can take charms back,” Yaten said, leaning back in their chair. “Rei’s never said anything about it.”

Seiya snorted. “Does she really pay you to scare off customers?”

“Oh yeah. Makes her grandpa happy to have someone here, and it gives her time to do the—“ they put up finger quotes— “important work.”

“I’m sure.” Seiya gazed at the stairs the girls had disappeared down. “Have I lost my touch, since we stopped being a band?”

Yaten waved her off. “You’ve just gotten boring. You’re well on your way to having a house and a dog with 2.5 kids. There’s no thrill for them.”

“But I’m handsome! A heartthrob!”

Yaten raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

“Everyone’s jealous of Usagi! They all want to be my girl!”

They rolled their eyes. “We’re past that, aren’t we? We’re has-beens. Enjoy it. A few more years they’ll stop recognizing us, and you’re about to blow through your share of the profit, we can pretend it never happened.”

“I—“

“Are you taking another break!?” Rei burst out of one of the buildings, hands on her hips.

“Yeah.” Yaten out their hands behind their head, barely giving her a glance.

“Why do I pay you?”

“Charity, probably.”

Rei huffed and turned on Seiya. “And why are you here? To encourage them?”

“No, no!” Seiya put up her hands. “I had some questions for you about the future, if you’re willing.”

“I’m sure you and Usagi will find a wonderful house.”

“It’s not that. Or, not exactly. Can we talk somewhere in private?”

“Oh please,” Yaten said, “I’m not going to listen.”

Rei rolled her eyes. “Fine, but make it quick.” She led Seiya into the room with the Sacred flame and sat down in front of it. “What do you want to know?”

“Is Usagi still going to be Queen?”

“What, you aim to be a king?”

“Only in drag.” Rei didn’t laugh. Seiya cleared her throat. “No, I just mean, did she give that up, when she and Mamoru broke up?”

Rei frowned. “Why are you only asking now?”

“Because we’re starting to take steps that are harder for her to take back. Right now, she could change her mind with only a word, but once we have a house, and get married, it’s harder.”

“I see.” Rei stared into the fire. “That part of the future has been obscure to me since we first learned of it, and every time another timeline crosses it gets harder to determine.” She turned back. “But you’d have to be very full or yourself to think you of all things would decide her fate.”

“Gee thanks,” Seiya said, feeling less sure than she had before. She was excited to find a home with Usagi, she was, but there had been a small bud of fear in the back of her mind, and now it taken root. If Usagi had not chosen her, she might be building a palace to rule the world from, instead of choosing houses to look at with her has-been fiancé.

The only solution, really, was to find a house that was as close to a palace as Seiya could find. The money she had from her thirty-seconds of fame was hardly an insignificant sum, and while she didn’t make amazing money these days, she could probably get a fairly hefty mortgage. As she returned home to their current apartment, she had the plan solidified in her mind.

She shot a text to Usagi. Hey, can I pick the houses for our first round of viewings?

A reply came back a few minutes later— SURPRISE HOUSES YES!  and Ami says hi. A string of kiss emojis followed.

Seiya smiled and got out her computer. Queen of the world or just queen of her world, Usagi was going to have a palace.

_________

Usagi stared wide-eyed at the first house as they drove up the long, winding driveway. Seiya tried to contain her pride, but couldn’t keep from smiling. Usagi was impressed. Usagi was going to love this house. It stood three stories tall over the expanse of lawn, sunlight glittering off dozens of windows set into the brick. The front door was painted regal red beneath an arched entryway, through the top of which a hanging gold chandelier was visible.

“It’s enormous,” Usagi breathed.

Seiya shrugged with forced nonchalance. “It’s not quite the biggest one I have lined up for us. But it’s pretty nice.”

Usagi gaped at her as she parked.

“Do you want to view the outside first, or the inside?”

“Inside?”

“Okay.” Seiya led her through the door. The realtor inside made pleasantries and handed her a fact sheet as Usagi gazed around the bright and airy foyer.

“The ceiling is so high,” she whispered when Seiya returned to her side.

“It’s grand, isn’t it?” Seiya directed her gaze away from the windows to the stairs that curved up to balconied landings. “You can see out the front window at every level. And it faces west, so we could watch the sunset every day.”

Usagi didn’t respond, mouth slightly ajar as she took it all in.

“Let’s keep going,” Seiya said, nudging her up the stairs. “There’s plenty more house to see.”

The second floor housed a handful of bedrooms and a study-- “One of these could be a music room for you,” Usagi had offered in a small voice, to which Seiya had responded that there was a good space in the basement for that. The top floor was taken up entirely by a sprawling master suite, complete with patio doors out to a balcony overlooking the backyard and a bathroom with a marble soaking tub.

Usagi leaned against the countertop between the his and hers-- hers and hers, Seiya had joked-- sinks. “It’s so much,” she said, and her voice echoed in the vast and cavernous space.

“You deserve every inch and more.”

Usagi smiled. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Hey, don’t knock me for telling the truth.” Seiya climbed into the tub and sat down, peaking over the edge with only the top of her head. “Imagine soaking in this monster.”

“I could drown in that!” Usagi laughed.

“I’ll buy you water wings. And lots of mats so you don’t slip getting out.”

“Are there enough mats in the world for that?”

“Nah, we’ll get them special made.” Seiya climbed out, almost falling herself from the height of the side. “Maybe some stairs, too. This was clearly made by someone as noodly as Haruka.”

Usagi batted at her arm. “Be nice.”

“Her noodly-ness is an asset! Really! It’s her trade off for not being as good looking as me.”

Usagi rolled her eyes, but kept smiling as they wound their way back to the ground floor. Seiya showed her to the first of two living rooms.

“Why are there two living rooms?”

“One’s for TV, the other is for talking. See, this one has the fireplace as a focal point.”

Usagi looked skeptical, but kept following her through the second living room and the dining room, straight to the kitchen.

“Just think of how much food we can fit in here,” Seiya said. “And look,” she hopped onto a stool at the breakfast bar that overlooked the stove. “You can sit here every morning and watch me make you pancakes.”

“You’ve really thought this out.”

“What can I say?” she said, leaning her elbows against the granite. “I know what women want.”

Usagi laughed. “Is that so?”

“Oh yeah. There’s nothing sexier to a woman than a butch making breakfast. I’ll even wear one of those cutesy aprons for you. With nothing under it.” Seiya stood and wrapped her arms around her. “So what do you think?”

“It’s nice.” Usagi looked up to kiss her cheek. “But I think we should keep looking.”

“I’m glad you think so. The next house is even better.”

But as they arrived at Seiya’s next pick-- a slightly smaller but fancier affair-- Usagi did not seem to feel the same way. “I know it looks small,” Seiya said quickly, “but I think it’s got some really worthwhile aspects. There’s a pool and jacuzzi in the backyard!”

Usagi nodded without smiling. They didn’t make it through the second floor before Seiya called it. “Why don’t we move on? If you’re not feeling it, it’s no good.”

The third house was the largest, and Usagi’s enthusiasm continued to wane. She was not cheered by the big wrap-around porch, or the home movie theater, or even the two oversized built-in refrigerators. She forced a smile when prompted, but Seiya could tell something was wrong.

“Did you like the first house best?”

Usagi frowned into one of the mirrors in the master bathroom, and it was reflected back in multitude. “Sort of.” She twirled the end of one of her pony tails around the end of her finger. “None of these are really what I was imagining.”

“I’ll keep looking! I’ll find the best house, I promi--”

“Maybe I could pick our next bunch?”

“Of course,” Seiya said, but that night she lay awake dreading the prospect. She’d stretched her search to the very top of what was feasible-- or a little beyond what was feasible, if she was honest, but she’d find a way to pull it off. If that wasn’t enough, though, if Usagi dreamed of something better… she wasn’t sure, then. Try as she might, she couldn’t afford what Usagi truly deserved. Would Usagi regret her choice, when she realized? Would she wished she had chosen what destiny had laid out for her, with its crystal palaces and centuries of luxury?

Seiya stared at the ceiling, summoning her resolve. If Usagi wanted a palace, she would find a way. She wouldn’t remain a washed-up has been, she could launch a solo career, and make it big again, and Usagi would be a pop-star’s princess, with all the luxuries that came with celebrity. It might not match what would have come with queendom, but Seiya would be damned if she didn’t work to get as close as she could.

She scribbled song ideas in a notebook as Usagi drove them to her first chosen house the next day. Taiki had always been the composer among them, but Seiya was sure she could do it. Most songs were about love, anyway, and she knew plenty about that. If she could just find a rhyme for princess…

It took her a good minute to realize the car had stopped. She looked up to see a simple, single story house, with a small front yard and flower beds on either side of the single step up to the door. “Is that it?”

Usagi nodded.

“We can’t live there!”

“Why not?” her voice rose, hurt.

“That’s just a house. We can’t live in just a house. You’re a princess! You need something regal, and spacious, and--”

“Seiya.” Usagi turned in the driver’s seat to face her fully. “I don’t want any of that.”

“If you had stayed with Mamoru, you’d be living in a palace, and--”

“And I didn’t stay with Mamoru.” She took Seiya’s hand in both of hers. “I might still be queen someday, but that’s never been what I wanted. I want to live in a cute little house with you, as an ordinary person. I don’t need a million rooms I’ll only get lost in, and I don’t need all the fancy stuff I don’t know how to use.” She smiled. “I do need you to make me breakfast naked, though. That was my favorite part of what you showed me.”

Seiya laughed, but her chest felt heavy. “Do you really mean it?”

“I do.”

“I was gonna launch a solo career, to give you more.” She held up her notebook, feeling somewhat stupid. “I thought you’d take us to a house we couldn’t afford. And I want to be more than a has-been for you.”

Usagi smiled. “I like you as a has-been. You’re a little less full of yourself.”

“Hey!” Seiya pouted. “Did Rei tell you to say that? She called me that, too.”

“Maybe that should tell you something.” She took a breath. “Can we take a look inside?”

She led Seiya through the little house, telling her about the curtains they could hang, and where she’d want the couch, and how the little window seat at the front would be perfect for cocoa on snowy nights. A warmth washed over Seiya as she followed and listened. Usagi made an ordinary life sound extraordinary, sound worth more than all that came with royalty or celebrity. And if that was true, then Seiya would give her the most beautiful ordinary life she could.

She slipped her hand into Usagi’s, and it felt like coming home.

[authormitchel-blog]

GOF: Part 10

HARRY JAMES POTTER!!!!

IT IS COMPLETELY NEEDLESS FOR ME TO TELL HOW WORRIED, HOW DISTRAUGHT, HOW UTTERLY WRETCHED I FELT WHEN I HEARD…HOW COULD YOU….TALK???? TO???? A???? FIRE BREATHING DEMON????????

Dearest Godson,

Congratulations on getting past the Horntail. Whoever put your name in that goblet shouldn’t be feeling too happy right now! Because I’m going to find them and use a conjunctivitis curse on every inch of them until they howl in pain and agony. I was going to suggest a Conjunctivitis Curse, as a dragon’s eyes are its weakest point, but how you handled that dragon was simply amazing. Don’t get complacent though, Harry. You’ve only done one task; whoever put you in for the tournament’s got plenty more opportunity if they’re trying to hurt you. Main you, injure you. Perhaps you should just drop out, quit Hogwarts completely. Remus and I will take you in. I’ve been learning to knit, and have started quite the quilt to wrap you in. Keep your eyes open, particularly around certain other headmasters, and concentrate on keeping yourself out of trouble. For the love of all that is holy keep yourself out of trouble before I have a panic attack.  

           Keep in touch, we will want to hear all about the Yule Ball. Please try to go with a Gryffindor. Slytherin children are notoriously difficult to raise. I should know. And I’m too young for grey hair in case someone impregnates you.

All our love,

           Sirius and Remus

P.S.

           Your father was one of the most supportive people I’ve ever known and would be very proud. He would have been the loudest person in the crowd for every task. Other than your mother.  

           Harry hoped that both of his parents would have been proud of him. As far as a date, Harry was starting to highly consider asking Myrtle if she would be willing to take a break from the bathroom and haunt the dance floor with him for a few hours.

           Ron, however, had set his sights a little more on the living side.

“Fleur? Are you insane?” Ginny had asked her shell shocked brother who was barely able to speak since he had done the unthinkable. They were outside at the scene of the crime, or as most people called it, the courtyard. Several people were gathered around a stunned Ron as he explained what had happened.

           “Shoot for the stars?” said Seamus Finnigan. “I sure did,” he said, gazing at Lavender Brown, another Gryffindor girl, who Seamus seemed to be newly smitten with. Dean, near him, seemed to choke on something slightly before excusing himself.

           “I don’t know, Harry, it just happened. I just looked at her, and then, BAM! I honestly didn’t even mean to ask her. I’ve been meaning to ask…”

Harry nodded.

           “It’s that she’s part Veela, her grandmother,” said Harry. “It’s not your fault. You probably passed her when I did. She was putting it on quite heavy for Cedric Diggory, I nearly got pulled in myself.”

           “Ah,” said Seamus. “But he’s going with Cho Chang I’m pretty sure.”

Ah, Harry thought, that made sense. Cute couple.              “But then whose Fleur going with?” asked Harry.

“I saw her chatting with that Ravenclaw Roger Davies,” said Seamus.

           “No,” said Ron, still looking out of his skin. “Worse,” he said, shaking his head.

“I don’t even know how he did it, but….oh, Harry, it’s so bad. And gosh, now, she’ll never agree to go with me when she hears about this…” Ron trailed off.

           Harry looked at his friend and tried to read his mind the way Millicent sometimes managed to read his, but he got nothing. Just then, Pansy Parkinson stalked across the grass of the courtyard looking so fierce that Harry thought she was going to hex him flat out.

           “Potter!” she hailed, and Harry nearly jumped out of his skin, looking for her cane on reflex because he was surely about to get hit in the shins.

           But when no hit immediately came, it was already too late to run.

“You’re going to the Yule Ball with me, I will be by your rooms later tonight to make sure that your dress robes are suitable. If they are not you will wear what I pick out and you will not complain. You will meet me for extensive dancing lessons until I can say with all certainty that you will not embarrass me.”

           “Now, wait just a second….” Said Ginny Weasley, the only one brave enough in the crowd to talk to Parkinson that way. “Harry doesn’t have to go with you.”

           “Listen, Potter,” Pansy said, coming close so only he could hear what she had to say. “You promised me Draco Malfoy and since I helped you with your little flea problem, I suggest that you get on board or I will ruin you….” She stressed the word and Harry had no doubt that she meant it.

           Harry merely nodded, meekly.

Pansy smiled then turned on her heel.

           “Seven o’clock, Potter,” she said over her shoulder.

Harry berated himself for not asking Myrtle sooner.

           The night of the ball, the entrance hall was packed with students, all milling about, waiting for their dates and for eight o’clock to sound and the Great Hall doors to be opened.

           Harry had to be up early, but the rest of his house came up the stairs soon enough, Draco Malfoy at their head. He was wearing dress robes of black velvet with a high collar and his hair was jelled back in a slightly different way than usual. He looked… decent as he strode over to Fleur Delacour and took her hand.

           Pansy was next, she was wearing a pale pink dress and a rather delicate line of jewels in her hair. She took Harry’s arm forcefully, not daring to look at Draco who was chatting amicably with Fleur. Blaise had explained, saying that Draco had been working on this little coup all year.

           “She thinks you and he are best friends.”

“Me and Malfoy?” said Harry. “That’s a joke.”

           Harry had tried to get close to Fleur to tell her the truth, but every time he tried to get close, Pansy pulled heavily on his arm and Harry realized what a bad idea that was after all. All of the Weasley’s were dressed up nicely. Fred had somehow gotten Angelina Johnson to go with him while George had asked fellow teammate Katie Bell. Neither of the twins looked as happy as most of the other students. Harry had assumed that Fred and George would be shooting off more of those sparklers that they had at the Burrow, but instead, they barely seemed inclined to talk to one another.

           George kept glancing at Angelina Johnson with a longing sort of look that Harry thought matched Pansy’s non-looks at Malfoy.

           “What’s going on?” he had asked Ginny who had agreed to go to the ball with Neville.

“I’m not sure,” she said, though she too, noticed that something was wrong with her brothers.

           As the doors opened, and people started to file inside, Harry was ordered to stay where he was by Professor McGonagall. The champions would go in last. While neither Ron or Hermione had made an appearance.

           Harry was starting to wonder if he could get away with leaving Pansy for a few minutes to go and get the map and try to find them when Hermione walked down the staircase.

           She was breathtaking.

Harry had never known Hermione to be one who took too much time with her appearance. She was always neat and hygienic, but she had never employed the varied cosmetic charms that Pansy, Tracey, and even Lavender and Parvati from Gryffindor knew like they knew the back of their hands. But tonight she looked stunning.

           Then as if she could get any more beautiful, she smiled as Ron Weasley came down beside her, took her hand in his, and then escorted her to the Great Hall.

           “Wow,” said Harry, giving them both a hug.

“You guys look great,” he said.

           “You too, Harry,” said Hermione cheerily, smoothing down her blue dress. Ron said it too, but his eyes never left Hermione.

           And before Pansy could say anything cutting to Hermione, Professor McGonagall ushered Ron and Hermione into the Great Hall.

           “Good luck,” they echoed as they moved further and further away from him.

Everyone seemed to have their dates. Even Warrington with…Ely? Harry had wondered at first if they had just gone as friends until Warrington had bravely and quite proudly pulled his very handsomely dressed date into his arms and kissed him to the shock and awe of quite a few. Pansy however looked as if this was old news.

           “You knew about…” Harry gestured to the two boys who were now holding hands and waiting to be let into the Ball.

           Pansy nodded.

“Old news, Potter, we all go through that phase, don’t we?” she asked. Then, “But for some it’s more than just a phase, sometimes it lasts until seventh year.” Pansy sighed. “And sometimes a good pureblood goes to rot on a hot blonde.” Harry thought that comment was a bit brusque when he heard someone whistle at him.

He turned to see Millicent walking up the stairs from the dungeons. Wow, Harry thought. Millicent was wearing a deep green almost black suede strapless dress that fit her incredibly well. Her hair was beautifully done in loose waves to one side, the jewels she was wearing only exemplified the fact that she was definitely shining.

           Harry waited to see if anyone else was coming up the stairs, but when Harry saw neither Crabbe, Goyle, or Blaise in her company, Harry wondered if she had decided to come alone after all. Blaise had said that he was going stag, maybe they just planned to dance together and or make fun of everyone else’s dancing skills or lack thereof.

           Then, Viktor Krum moved past him, walked up to Millicent, took her hand in his, gave a low bow, and kissed her hand.

           “No flipping way,” said Pansy beside him, her eyes wide as “big, burly, broad shoulder, butch Millicent Bulstrode” was taken into Viktor Krum’s arms and led to the line of champions.

           Millicent winked at him as they passed.

“What company you keep, Potter,” said Millicent, tsk’ing him. “Oh, and Pans,” she said, as Professor McGonagall started to count them in. “I’d shut your mouth if I were you. You’re already inclined to premature wrinkles, and that expression is only going to give you more lines.”

           Harry had to pull a shocked Pansy into line because it was time.

Harry was never more amazed by magic than in moments like this. Flying, spells, those were one thing, but the Great Hall for the Yule Ball was spectacular. Snow drifted from the ceiling, glitter and shine had replaced the dark wood and boring paint.

           Everything was silver and white. It looked like a fairytale. Too bad Harry couldn’t properly appreciate it as he was about to vomit. Pansy tugged on his arm sharply.

           “Mess this up Potter, and even a niffler won’t be able to find your body even with all my jewels shoved down your throat.” Harry eyed the rather large expensive looking jewels and that didn’t help his stomach at all.

           “Don’t worry,” Pansy whispered as the music started. “I can always buy new ones.” Then the doors opened and Harry followed one obnoxiously proud Warrington and his immaculately dressed boyfriend to his death.

After spinning him around like he was a dog on show, the rest of the school joined them in the first dance. After a few dances, it was less traditional and more just everyone and their partner or partners just moving together and having a good time, the strict moves that had been drilled into Harry’s head nearly forgotten.

           Harry thought he’d be free after the first couple of dances, assuming Pansy would abandon him for greener pastures, but she had stuck to him like glue. “You are the hot commodity, Potter,” she had said. “So, don’t think I’ll be letting you go to dance with other girls.”

           But as he and Pansy engaged in their third dance of the agreed seven of the evening, the memory of Pansy’s cane kept his feet in line and his body on beat. Harry was about to call for a break as some of the other couples had done, filtering off and on the dance floor. Tracey Davis had gone with Crabbe after some very fine begging and a very nice, antique necklace that Crabbe had bribed off his mother for the occasion. Too bad the way that Tracey kept looking at it in every reflective surface meant that she wasn’t getting it back anytime soon. The two were one of the few couples who hadn’t left the dance floor for a break. Ron and Hermione were the other pair who just couldn’t get enough….dancing.

           Harry was happy for his friends.

Ely and Warrington were also doing their fair share of dancing and mingling. Ely was treating the ball like he treated everything else, like a politician you always forgot was one until you were in the voting booth.

           Neville and Ginny looked like they were having the time of their lives, dancing and eating the little cakes that had been made for the occasion. They were like two kids at a carnival, enjoying all the lights and sounds, and Harry thought it was brilliant. Other couples weren’t having the same fun.

           While Millicent and Krum spun around the dance floor looking like a very fine couple, Fred and Angelina Johnson kept stepping on each other’s feet while George Weasley was barely content to dance with his date at all. Draco and Fleur were also going the politician route and since Malfoy had gotten what he wanted in taking Fleur to the Ball and having been seen with her, he seemingly had his fill of the fierce champion and part Veela. She was turning on the charm though as several boys surrounded them, suiting her and Malfoy both just fine.

           Pansy kept staring daggers. Harry kept wondering where she put her wand in that dress and just how quick she could get to it before he had the opportunity to get out of the way. Though, her plan was definitely working, Malfoy despite the crowd of people that he had around him, kept glancing at them before covering it up with a obviously fake laugh.

           Pansy excused him to get him and her a drink while she took Goyle up on his offer of a dance, and Malfoy stared even harder as Harry gave her away “to anyone but Draco”. Harry had nearly sprinted off to get himself some of the punch. As he was tipping some into a glass, someone bumped into his back.

           “Sorry,” the guy said shortly.

Harry turned around, ready to ask the guy what his problem was when he saw that it was Seamus Finnigan. He barely seemed to recognize that Harry was there at all. He was staring quite intensely at the dance floor where Dean Thomas danced with his date, a boy named Caleb from Durmstrang.

           They hadn’t cause quite the stir that Ely and Warrington had, but that could be because of Slytherins innate prejudice against anything not supporting pureblood values and not because Hogwarts students or staff as a whole were against same sex relationships. That, made Harry feel lighter than anything. No one seemed to care that the two boys were dancing together or that any other couple had decided to go together just because of their sex. Were they judged on what they were wearing? Yeah. If someone couldn’t dance? Of course. But nothing else.

           No one cared. But Seamus Finnigan.

The Irish fellow stared at Dean like he had personally AK’d his mother or tried to Crucio his cat, but all Dean was doing was having the time of his life, or at least that’s what it looked like to Harry.

           “All right, Seamus?” Harry offered loud enough so that the boy snapped out of his stupor.

           “Fine,” he said, shortly then remembering that he was actually friendly with Harry said, “You?”

           “Totally fine,” Harry replied. Then deciding that potentially being caught on fire was worth it, he said, “Dean looks nice tonight.”

           To his surprise, Seamus laughed.

“Dean looks nice all the time. But that other guy, you would think someone would put in more effort for something like this, but what do you know, foreigners, I guess.”      

           “Fleur’s a foreigner and so is Krum and they both look excellent tonight,” Harry commented.

           Seamus grudgingly looked at the two people that Harry mentioned. Fleur was now dancing with Roger Davies and several other boys at the same time until two girls from Beauxbatons gave her a dirty look. Fleur shot a look at Hermione as she entertained both Neville and Ron, twirling both the boys under her arms as Ginny went to get a drink then Fleur sent the other boys away leaving her with only Davies. Krum was listening as Millicent told him some story, laughing as loudly as Harry had ever heard the boy. Fred was trying to talk to his brother as Katie Bell was dancing with a Hufflepuff Harry was only vaguely familiar with.

            “I mean,” said Seamus. “I guess they look fine, but it’s just…”

“It’s just that you don’t like that guy because he’s dancing with Dean. It could be anyone and you wouldn’t like it.”

           “Well,” huffed Seamus. “He’s my best friend and he only deserves the best, and…and…that guy clearly isn’t it, that’s all.”

           Harry looked once again at the dancing pair who were laughing quietly as the music suddenly changed direction and they had to readjust their steps.

           “Where’s the light of your days and nights anyway? I thought you and Lavender have been getting on quite well these days.”

           Seamus sighed.

“She said that if I was going to be in a sour mood all night then she was just going to dance with Parvati, not that they don’t spend every waking hour together anyways.” Seamus chuckled lightly. “They’re a bit like Dean and I really, I had just assumed that we were going to go with them as a foursome, but then Dean had said that someone had asked him to go. When I asked him who, he had said a guy from Durmstrang. He had said that he had waited for someone else to ask him for awhile but since they didn’t seem like they were willing….he had said yes.. to this other guy.”

           Harry nodded, finally thinking that he had it all connected. But before Harry could say anything else, Pansy walked over and seized him.

           “We’re making a move, Potter. Keep up for full tilt.”

Draco had finally pulled another Slytherin girl into a dance. And as Harry and Pansy started to dance, Draco quickly maneuvered his date to be right beside them.

           At times, Malfoy got so close to them that Harry could feel his hot, labored breathing on the back of his neck. Towards the end of the night, he was sure he and Draco were wearing the same cologne.

           Still, the night wasn’t a total loss. When he was finally able to sneak away from Pansy on one of her “breaks” he had run into one Marcus Flint, chaperone extraordinaire.

           “Flint?” Harry had asked.

It was odd seeing Flint in this context, dress robes and nodding along to the Weird Sisters.

           Flint turned at the sound of his name, a slight smile on his face as he saw Harry. Harry almost turned away. He wasn’t exactly sure that he had actually seen Flint smile before. Maybe he’s drunk, Harry thought. He wouldn’t be the first to sneak in some Fire Wiskey.

           “Haven’t seen Wood, have you?” Flint asked distractedly, looking around the room.

“He’s here too?” Harry asked.

           Maybe Pansy had drugged him and this was all a hallucination.

“Yeah,” said Flint, answering Harry’s question, but not really.

           “What are you doing here?” Harry asked.

“I thought you’d be busy with the team? And Wood, too. I didn’t think professional athletes took breaks.”

           Flint leveled him with the old “Captain’s glare”. It almost made Harry feel nostalgic.

“It’s Christmas, Potter,” Flint said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “The league breaks for Christmas, every team.”

           Harry felt like he was making some sort of connection when up walked Oliver Wood dressed smartly in his jet black robes. Side by side, Harry thought Flint Wood made quite the pair.

           “Hello, Potter,” Wood greeted, much more amiable now that they weren’t on opposing teams.

           “I owled Flint here and asked if he wanted to have a little one on one at the old pitch and he accepted my challenge.”

           “Of course I did,” said Flint, looking rather fondly at Oliver.

Maybe he was feeling nostalgic too.

           Flint’s cheeks started to redden like they always did when he was about to start shouting at someone, so Harry quickly said goodbye to the former Captains. He looked back as the pair were heading to the door, but Flint didn’t look upset at all.

           Back on the dance floor, he and Pansy were interrupted. “I’d like a dance,” Malfoy said as soon as his partner excused herself for a moment. “Do you mind if I cut in,” he asked Harry. But before Harry could throw Pansy into his arms, he was thrust into Malfoy’s.  

“Sure,” smirked Pansy. “Keep him busy for me Draco, darling, while I get a drink. I’m famished.”

           Malfoy looked like he wanted to argue but the look on Pansy’s face dissuaded him of that quick enough. A sound like a whip cracking filled the air and reflexively Harry put his hands on Malfoy’s waist. Harry damned Pansy and her death stick both, praying that wasn’t going to be a permanent reaction.

           “Well, well, Potter, didn’t realize I was your type, domineering, in control, powerful. I could have pitched Skeeter a far more interesting tale than Granger.”

           Harry heard Pansy call, “Draco!” in what he had deemed her “teacher voice” and Draco’s hands were suddenly on his shoulders.

           “Really Malfoy,” Harry had laughed. “because it seems like I’m the one leading this dance.”

           “Yeah right,” said Draco, moving them back a step. “It’s a wonder Pansy doesn’t have bloody toes by now.”

           “Ha, Ha,” laughed Harry, tugging firmly on Draco’s waist so that he could lead. Malfoy pushed back, but instead of fighting they were each trying to outdo one another in a weird sort of dance battle.

           Harry only realized they weren’t actually fighting when Pansy tapped Draco on the shoulder.

           “If you are done trying to steal my date, Draco. I would really quite like him back.”

Draco flushed, pushing back from Harry quickly before scurrying off. Pansy then reclaimed her spot, and they finished out the rest of their allotted dances. The Great Hall was bright and hot, people’s bodies pressed together, and he still smelled like Malfoy. Deciding to break away from the pack, Harry moved to the edge of the dance floor where he saw something he never thought he would see. Fred and George Weasley arguing.

           “Not having fun with your date?” George commented.

Fred merely rolled his eyes, like the two had talked about this before.

           Angelina was now dancing with one of the guys from Durmstrang. After the first few dances of the night, Harry hadn’t seen Fred take her out once. Likewise, Katie Bell looked as if she was having quite the time with a pretty Beauxbaton’s girl.

           “I really don’t want to talk about this right now, George,” said Fred. He was eyeing someone on the dance floor, but Harry couldn’t see who in the mass of bodies.

           Fred stood to leave, but George grabbed his arm, whispering something in his ear.

���I know,” Fred said, jerking his arm away from George. “I know, but it wasn’t my fault that the plan went to crap. And it’s not my fault that you didn’t ask her when you should have done. You’ve practically been in love with the girl since second year.”

           “You’re one to talk. All the mooning you’ve been doing this summer put all the cows in Ottery to shame.”

           Fred went red in the face.

“You know it’s complicated.”

           George, normally the more reserved brother was starting to shout.

“It’s not complicated! YOU LIKE HER! Just admit it, she gets you like no one else does, she understands how your mind works, and she doesn’t put up with any of your crap. The girl is practically an evil genius and you have failed, Freddie, on the recruitment process.”

           Then realizing that he was perhaps talking a bit too loudly, and that some people were now staring. George said,” But you’re right. I should have asked her when I had the chance. And now that I do, I’m going to take it.”

           George then stalked off in the direction of Angelina Johnson, pulled a whisbee from his pocket, and promptly launched it at her dancing partner.

           A stunned and giggling Angelina was then pulled into his arms and the two took off where Angelina and her former partner who was now dealing with smoke coming from his pants left off.

           Millicent who had stopped dancing with Krum to watch the carnage of the scene before her gave one inscrutable look at Fred and then returned to her partner. Krum whispering something insistently in her ear. Millicent nodded then shook her head. “I can handle it,” Harry could almost hear her say.

           Fred, upon seeing everyone start dancing again, returned to his brooding, stalking off in the direction of the now spiked punch.

           Harry walked outside to get a breath of air and too cool down, but was instead confronted with Snape and Kararoff. Harry ducked behind a bush as he watched Snape call out random couples who had snuck off for a quick snog all the while keeping Karkaroff at bay.

           “We need to do something, Severus. Tell me that you haven’t noticed, that you aren’t concerned.”

           Snape huffed haughtily.

“I assure you Kararoff that you have nothing to worry about. Dumbledore has everything under control.”

           Kararoff continued to speak, but Snape silenced him. “He is gone Kararoff. Gone.”

The pair were heading toward him so Harry went off in another direction, not quite ready to go back inside in case Pansy decided on dance number eight.  

           Harry just turned around another corner when he heard something that sounded like a scuffle. With Fred and George’s fight still on his brain, he kept going, just in case others were letting the excitement of the night get to them.

           But as Harry got closer, he not only heard groaning as if someone was being punched, but moaning as if someone.

           The two who were supposed to be flying, but instead Marcus Flint and Oliver Wood were making out rather heavily against one of the stone corridor walls. Flint’s hand was inside Oliver Wood’s robes as Harry stood transfixed watching the two kiss passionately. Oliver was grinding himself against Marcus’ thigh.  

           “Marcus. Marcus,” Wood chanted in a breathy moan. Each time Wood said his name, Flint looked as if he was going to bust.

           Harry knew he had to leave. He knew that he shouldn’t be watching. So, he turned slowly. When he was away from the two lover’s he felt dirty. He felt like he had witnessed something that was off limits to him, and worse than that, he felt lonely. Harry wondered what it would feel like to kiss someone. What it would feel like to have someone say his name the way that Wood was chanting Flint’s. Then his mind wandered to Malfoy in his arms and how completely normal that felt verses dancing with Pansy.

           Malfoy, Harry hated to admit it, was quite a graceful dancer, with his long legs and delicate hands that were so good for potions making. Then Harry remembered that this was Malfoy that he was talking about and that even if he did decide that he liked men or women or both or neither that he couldn’t have Malfoy like that because the Malfoy that was also less pointy than he had been in recent years was still the same prejudiced snob that he had always been, and Harry doubted that would ever change.

[katherine-traylor]

Bloody Bel Brightleaf (2)

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At first Bel wasn’t even sure she was in the right city. Then she saw the giant neon palm tree over Fairweather Park, and realized she was in the hills southwest of Sabinaville. Erin had driven her out here once after a fight, leaving Bel to walk all the way back. She was a little farther out tonight, but she should be able to make it back if she kept going downhill and took the biggest roads. Depending on what time it was now, she might even get home before sunrise.

She started walking.

It took a moment to get her stride. The wind cut through her pajama pants and shivered in her hair. The road pitched steeply down, and the cave was an eerie presence at her back. Bel expected footsteps to follow her at any second. But none came.

At the bottom of the dirt track was the highway. Bel crossed the asphalt quickly and set out along the shoulder. The dirt was dry and firm, clearly visible in the moonlight, and relatively clean of glass and cigarette butts. Soon she was walking at an easy pace, guided by the lights of the distant city.

The walk really wasn’t that bad. The air was fresh, and the wind felt good when she’d warmed up a little bit. However long Bel had been sleeping, she felt well rested now. She was conscious, distantly, of being hungry and thirsty, but she could wait until later to eat and drink. She remembered an old trick, and put a pebble under her tongue to suck. At least her throat wasn’t as dry.

In fact, she seemed to have new energy tonight. Her bare feet barely slowed her down--she felt invigorated, not sore or tired. Miles passed in a dream with only the wind for company. The passing landscape, the motion of the moon, the shifting night noises--all these were abstractions, not important to her. She was hardly conscious of the time that passed before she got to the city limits.

She didn’t hit trouble until she was almost home.

She was cutting through one of the smaller streets downtown when a yellow hatchback rolled past her, then stopped abruptly.

Foe, whispered a voice in the back of Bel’s mind.

Bel considered turning around, but knew he’d just follow. Rolling her eyes, she kept walking.

The passenger side window rolled down. The driver was about 30, slick-haired, the kind of person you’d expect to be cruising in a yellow hatchback late at night. He leaned closer, grinning, and called over the pulsing bass, “Hey, girl, where you going?” His voice was rough, as if he’d been shouting in smoke-filled rooms.

Bel kept walking.

“I said, where you going?” he said, louder.

“Out of your fucking life,” Bel replied, unable to stop herself.

“I got a better idea. How about you come suck my dick?”

Bel stopped. Turning, she bared her teeth. “How about I come bite it off?”

The smile fell off his face. “How about I come knock all the teeth out of your mouth?”

Her grin widened. “Fucking try me, bitch. I’ve had a long day.”

Well, so she assumed.

He stared at her a long moment. Then he put the car in park.

Adrenaline sang through Bel’s blood as she shifted into a fighting stance. She hadn’t had a good fight in weeks. And if she could get this asshole to hit first, then it would unambiguously be self defense when she beat the ever-living shit out of him.

Go for the eyes and genitals, whispered the voice in her head.

She snorted. As if she didn’t know that.

The driver got out of his car. He had an inch or two on Bel, and a decent set of gym muscles, but he didn’t move like he knew how to use them. He sidled around the car, smirking as if he had Bel right where he wanted her.

Bel backed off a few steps, considering how to handle this one. She was 100 percent certain she could hand this fucker’s ass to him hand-to-hand, but he could be armed. She looked around for a weapon. Her eyes zeroed in on a piece of rebar lying against the wall of the building behind her. That could work.

Before she could pick it up, another car rolled to a stop behind them. Sighing, Bel turned to assess this new threat before planning the rest of her strategy.

The new car was a shitty gray sedan, about twenty years old. The driver, a white woman in her thirties, got out immediately. She was more handsome than pretty--a bit butch, Bel thought, in her green flannel shirt and choppy blond ponytail. She held a phone in one hand. Before Brosef could move, she took pictures of his license plate, his car, and the tableau as a whole.

“I’m holding the dial button,” she said flatly. “Get the fuck out of here or I’m calling the cops. And putting this on Facebook.”

“Are you fucking serious?” the man said. ”I’m not doing anything. She just--”

“Three… two… one…” the woman said.

“Jesus, all right.” He walked quickly back around his car. “Fucking bitch.”

Watching him get in his car and drive away, Bel couldn’t tell if she regretted the missed fight or not. “Thanks,” she said dryly, when he was gone.

“No problem.” The woman gestured at her own car. “Get in.”

“Why?” said Bel, raising her eyebrows. “You want me to suck your dick, too?”

“What? No.” The woman looked disgusted. “He’ll probably circle back.”

“And why would I be safer with you? Because you’re a woman? What are you even doing out this late? Cruising for chicks?”

The woman stared at her. “Do you not see the giant Uber sticker in the front window?” She pointed to the sticker that, yes, was pretty obvious now that Bel saw it. “I was on my way home. I’m not going to leave you out here with that guy running around, so either I’ll give you a ride home, or I can call the police to come pick you up instead.”

Bel considered. She could just run--she knew the downtown area well enough that she could probably lose the woman easily. But now the adrenaline was fading, and she was starting to feel pretty tired. Might as well let this woman give her a ride if she was so set on it. “Fine,” she said. “But I don’t have any money, so don’t expect me to pay you.”

“How shall I survive.” Rolling her eyes, the woman got in the car and unlocked the door for Bel.

The minute Bel sat down, her body seemed to melt into the upholstery. Exhaustion came over her all at once, like a tidal wave burying a village. “Holy shit, I’m tired.” She yawned “Didn’t realize…”

“What are you doing out so late?” the driver said. “Barefoot in the street at four a.m.? Do you live around here?” She looked around at the decidedly non-residential street.

Well, now at least she knew what time it was. “I was at a party up in the hills,” she said. “Passed out, got left behind. Someone took my wallet.” The lie slipped easily from her tongue. It was a good lie. It had even happened before. “Had to walk all the way back.”

The woman nodded slowly. Bel couldn’t tell if she believed her. “Those your party clothes?”

Bel looked down at her sweaty pajamas. “It was a very casual party.” She snuggled deeper into the corner of the seat.

The woman frowned. “I can’t believe your friends just left you. If I hadn’t come along…”

Bel laughed. “Look, lady, I appreciate the assist, but I would have been fine. I was about to hand that guy his ass.”

“Sure you were,” said the driver dryly.

Bel felt unaccountably annoyed. “Sure I was. I’ve been recreationally beating the shit out of people since I was eight years old. Guy like that wouldn’t even have been breakfast.”

“Oh yeah?” said the woman skeptically. “What’s your fighting style?”

“A little boxing, a little kickboxing… and a whole lot of krav maga.” Bel grinned, pantomiming an elbow strike. “Haven’t had a good workout in a long time. Actually, now that I think about it you kind of screwed me over.”

The driver rolled her eyes. “Jeeze. All right, kid. You ever seen Fight Club?”

“‘Fight Club’ is my nickname at school.” Among others.

The woman snorted. “Of course it is. All right, Fight Club, where am I taking you?”

Bel gave her the address. “Don’t stalk me or anything.”

The ride passed in friendly silence. Bel gradually relaxed as she watched the familiar streets pass by. The driver kept a steady pace, humming quietly from time to time.

Before long they were stopping in front of the townhouse Bel shared with her mother. Bel winced when she saw that the downstairs lights were all on: Erin was definitely awake.

She started to get out. Before she could open the door, the driver handed her a white business card with an Uber logo on the front. On the back was the name Kerry Nelson and a phone number.

“You look like a kid who gets in trouble a lot,” the driver said. “If you ever need a lift--and I mean emergencies, not like going to see your friends or something--call me. I’ll come pick you up. No charge.”

Bel hesitated. On one hand, she knew she’d never call. On the other, she appreciated the sentiment. It was always nice to meet someone who didn’t hate her.

“Thanks,” she said, slipping the card into her pocket. “I will.”

She got out and shut the door. The driver looked like she wanted to say more, but finally she just waved and pulled away. Bel felt oddly forlorn as the taillights receded.

Sighing, she started up the cold cement walk. Time to see how much trouble she was in.

First | Next

(Photo source)

[monotonemanday]

Star Crossed Entertainers - Part 13

Just a quiet lunch in the cafeteria, nothing too special. “Honey, I’m hooooommmme.” Maybe a little bit of a beat down. The fluff can’t last forever folks, always gotta get back to the angst. ;) Enjoy!

Kaeli and Sam were sitting at a small round table in one of the business cafeterias for lower level employees. They liked mingling with the staff but today they were on their own as no one really knew that they were going to be back on a regular basis again. 

Kaeli sat scrolling through selfies Zen had sent her. She thought she was showing Sam but Sam was definitely not paying attention. She was just offering general statements like “Oh, so handsome.” and “Ah, that one’s nice.” Samantha was actually reading the paper. There was an article about C&R. Some supposed scandal with The Chairman. She wondered how often Jumin had to deal with the press and how much it must weigh on him. She realized that shortly she would be in the eyes of the press as well. Just like Baba.

At a table just a few feet from them sat two beautiful women. They were dressed in business attire appropriate for their positions as “interns” but Sam recognized them from some of the smaller clubs and low level brothels. Paying them no mind she went back to reading her paper, but Kaeli had honed in on the women’s conversation and nudged Sam, signaling for her to listen.

“The C&R Chairman huh? I’ve dealt with him a few times. He’s very nice but ugh, so old.”

“You did not deal with him, liar. He only goes to the VIP spots. He’s a high priority client.”

“Whatever, I’m not lying. But it doesn’t matter, who I’d really like to get my hands on is his Son.”

“You are so right. Jumin Han is FINE. But there’s so many rumors about him. Isn’t he gay? Or doesn’t he have a lover for each day of the week?”

Samantha’s blood was starting to boil and Kaeli could see her starting to scrunch up the newspaper in her fists.

“I don’t care about any of that. I heard he is going to be at the charity ball and we’re all working the event. I’m going to take a run at that hottie, no matter what.”

“Fat chance. Even the precious sparkling diamond couldn’t get into that mans pants. Ugh like she’s so perfect anyway.” The woman was rolling her eyes and had a very condescending tone. “Besides I heard that she won’t be working the event anyway. So we all have a better chance at clients. But that still doesn’t mean you have a chance with Jumin Han.”

“Oh, shut up. I just think the man is good looking. I could land way richer men. I’m sure Jumin Han is a mess. Abusive, a masochist. He probably locks girls up or pays them off after he sleeps with them so they keep their mouths shut.”

Samantha had heard enough and was scooting her chair back to run at the women when Kaeli grabbed her shoulder and pushed her back down.

“I heard The Bitches of The Spark Blood Syndicate are coming back. Maybe one of them will get stuck with him. The closet butch one would probably get some sick thrill with him and if I’m honest the tiny bubbly one probably needs a bit of abuse. I’m sure she hasn’t had to deal with a negative thing in her life.”

That was the signal. Kaeli and Sammy looked at each other and stood up from their seats. It was time to get back into their old ways and this was as good an opportunity as any.

“Look I don’t care. He can use me, abuse me, leave me in a ditch somewhere. Jumin Han is so successful and so attractive I am going to seduce him. You just watch me.” Suddenly the womans tray of food was crashing onto the ground. “HEY! WHO DO YOU-Oh! Samantha, Kaeli...I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

“No worries! We’re the ones who should apologize! We were just passing by and clumsy Sam here. Bumped into your table!” Kaeli was beaming at the two women.

“I’ll pick it up-” Samantha had cut the woman off.

“No, no. It was my fault I’ll pick it up.” Samantha gathered everything off the floor and placed it all back on the tray while Kaeli chatted with the women.

“Ah, I see you’re reading the article about C&R. They need better PR representation like us. But that Jumin Han though, quite the looker right girls?”

The girls were visibly nervous at this point. “Oh we uhm, we hadn’t given it much thought but I suppose being taken out by Jumin Han wouldn’t be so bad.” The woman let out a soft chuckle and both women smiled at Kaeli and Sam. Such snakes.

Sam was now standing up holding the tray in front of her. She smiled at the girls and chuckled before she went to rip into them.

“Wouldn't be so bad huh? As long as he could use you and abuse you right? After he’s done smacking Kaeli around first. Or maybe you could have sloppy seconds after this closet butch gets her thrills from him.”

The women’s eyes were wide and they were frozen in fear. One barely got out a stuttered reply. “S-s-s-s-Samantha we didn’t-”

Samantha slammed the tray on the table and it echoed throughout the cafeteria.

“No. You were right. The Bitches of The Spark Blood Syndicate are back. And this “Bitch” is your boss. I suggest you stay away from out VIP clients. They are reserved for our ladies who show a bit more character and class. And as for Jumin Han...” Sam had gotten inches away from the face of the woman desperate to get in bed with Jumin Han. “I suggest you stay in your own lane.”

Samantha and Kaeli walked away from the table and Kaeli turned back to wave the women off with a smile, shouting behind her. “Enjoy the rest of your lunch ladies!!”

Samantha was seated at her desk finally with her phone for the first time all day. She was swamped picking up all the work Kang-Dae had left for her and dealing with keeping Kaeli entertained. Kaeli was once again laying on the couch when her phone rang. She shot off the couch in a hurry rushing to the door and waving Sam goodbye. “BABE! I’ve missed you so much! I’ll be down in a minute!”

Sam looked back down at her phone. One text from Yoosung, one from Vanderwood and what seemed like a hundred texts from Jumin.

Yoosung: Hey Sam, I hope you’re okay. I’m sure Zen was just a little drunk.

Vanderwood: Hey brat, what was the name of that movie we saw last week? The one with the brothers.

Jumin: I hope you made it to your destination safely.

Jumin: I don’t think we discussed when you’d be returning to the penthouse. If I am not there when you arrive the guards will let you up.

Jumin: Do you think you will be stopping by for lunch? I’ll have something prepared just in case.

Jumin: How is your injured hand? I was thinking I could have a private doctor come and take a look at it? Maybe a specialist?

Jumin: Should I worry about dinner? Yoosung told me you are a fan of “chicken strips”? I will have to ask the chef about those as I am not familiar.

Jumin: There was a long brass hair on my suit jacket earlier. I can’t imagine it was mine and Elizabeth hasn’t been shedding lately. Trying to leave your mark?

Samantha had sunk down in her chair. She was over the moon at this helpless man. She was just about to type out her reply when there was a knock on her office door. “Yes, come in.”

Two large guards opened the double doors to her office and a younger man, same age as Sam walked in, the doors shutting behind him.

“Hey Sammy, It’s been awhile.”

Sam stood up from her desk and after greeting the man gestured for him to take a seat. “Danny, it has been awhile! Take a seat how are you? Are you still with Sherrie?”

“Ah no, Sherrie and I are done. Have been for awhile but I’m doing alright!”

“Good, good.” There was an awkward silence. Danny and Sam were old friends but Danny was a part of Reagans crew. “How’s work been? Climbing the ranks?”

“Yeah actually, I am Reagans number two now. I’ve actually been meaning to put in a transfer though. Some other branch. I’d be able to rise up even more. And more money would always be nice.”

“I hear ya. Always nice when you can have a little spending money.”

“Exactly but Reagan, he’s a good boss. Good leader. I don’t think he gets enough credit.”

Sam didn’t like Danny’s tone. Or the fact he was speaking of Reagan that way. She was suspicious and put her guard up. 

‘So what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I, oh, I actually was just in the part of the building. I was surprised, I actually didn’t know you were back already.”

“You’re not the only one.”

“Yeah we were all kind of hoping to have some time to prepare before you and Kaeli got back.”

“Is that why you came to snoop around my office Danny? To ‘prepare’. Were you going to clean it for me? Why would you be coming up to my office if you didn’t think I was here?”

Danny was shaking his leg anxiously and fiddling with something in his pocket. Sweat began to drip from his forehead. Samantha wasn’t sure what he was going to do. The call button for the guards was under her desk but it was too far back for her to reach subtly. She reached up and took the pin out of her hair letting it fall into her loose curls. “Danny, answer me. Why did you come up here?”

Danny stood up quick and Samantha got on her feet at the same time, using the pin to press the button for the guards. Danny pulled a switch blade from his pocket and flipped it open. 

“Look Sam, he just wanted me to bug it. He just wanted me to bug the office but I’m not going to get demoted for getting caught. You weren’t supposed to be here. You weren’t supposed to be back!”

Samantha reached across the desk and smacked the blade out of Danny’s hands and across the floor. He turned to run but was caught by the two guards that had made there way into the room. Each holding him up by one arm they had him on his knees. Samantha made her way around to the front of her desk.

“Can’t fight for yourself anymore Samantha? Already relying on your title, and your body guards to save you?”

“No, Danny. I just needed them to hold you back.”

Samantha looked at her bandaged hand. It was almost healed and she needed it healed completely in time for the charity ball so she would have to think of something else. She didn’t expect to be this deep into her old life again already but here she was in the full swing of things. Picking up the marble paperweight sculpture from her desk and placing it in her left hand she made her way to the man who was now hanging his head and avoiding her eyes.

“You weren’t supposed to be back.” The guards were still holding him up as the statement came out in a dull whisper.

“Well guess what Danny. I am back.” 

She flung the marble paperweight across his skull and he was out cold.

Jumin was resting on the couch with a glass of wine. He had resigned himself to the fact that Samantha wouldn’t be back. He hadn’t heard from her all day and he figured everything about last night was too good to be true. She had disappeared once again. 

The man ran his hands through his hair and picked up his empty glass. Walking to the kitchen he began to poor himself another glass. He couldn’t control all the complicated thoughts in his head and he felt like he was losing his composure. He slammed his fists on the counter and stared at his reflection in the ruby liquid. Jumin Han never got angry. He never lost his cool but his chest was tight and he felt like there was a wildfire filling up his insides. He poured the glass of wine down the sink. He didn’t want another drink. Suddenly he remembered Samantha’s words before she left that morning and his anger reached it’s peak. The man threw the wine glass across the penthouse, and hitting the wall it shattered. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The front door had opened.

“Is everything alright Mr. Han?”

“Yes, I have just dropped a glass. Can you get someone up here to clean it up thoroughly? I can’t have Elizabeth the 3rd walking on shards of glass.”

“Right away sir.”

Jumin crouched down and held his head in his hands. He felt like he was losing his mind. He heard the door open once again and tried to stand up quickly as to not seem disheveled in front of staff.

“Ah, thank you for coming so quickly, the mess is-”

He stopped and clenched his fists. Samantha. There she stood in the doorway. Dressed like a business vixen and in those horribly uncomfortable looking shoes he had seen the other night. His voice was filled with anger. “I thought you weren’t coming back.” He said it once more but this time his voice was filled with pain and she could see it all over his face. “I thought you weren’t coming back.”

Samantha ran to the man and wrapped her arms around him. One hand gripping and stroking his hair lightly. 

“Jumin I couldn’t wait to get back to you. I am so sorry I wasn’t in touch all day. As long as you’ll have me, I’ll always come back.”

Jumin stared into her deep sparkling blue eyes. This woman meant it. His heart was nearly beating out of his chest.

“Can I have a kiss, Handsome?”

Jumin lightly pressed his lips against hers and then pulled away quickly. 

“Samantha, I didn’t know what you might want for dinner so I had the chef prepare chicken strips, sushi, and pizza. Leftovers are in the fridge. I also have several carbonated beverages. Soda I believe. Although I don’t really think you should be drinking things with so many awful chemicals. I also have bought several types of face washes, make up removers, and night time creams as I don’t know your routine. Hopefully you’ll find something of use. There is a toothbrush on the sink next to mine. I hope purple is fine. I didn’t know your measurements so I have the tailor on stand by so we can get proper close for you to sleep in. You can just keep them here I figure. I have emptied out a drawer. Elizabeth seems to really like your scent as she is always laying on your jackets and shoes. I was hoping you would get a chance to play with her this evening, get more well acquainted. I’m sure there is a lot more you need to be comfortable but-” A finger was gently pressed to his lips.

“Jumin, everything is lovely. Everything is fine. Everything is wonderful. You are wonderful. You are an amazing man, But you talk, an awful lot.” Sam dropped her finger and grabbed the knot of Jumin’s tie and pulled him into her. Kissing him soft and using his tie to pull him into a more forceful kiss. Unable to breath Jumin regretfully pulled away.

“Now, my love.” She used his own nickname against him. “I believe you mentioned Sushi AND Pizza.”

[docholligay]

Silverleaf 6: Fancy Feast

Welcome to Ben’s sponsored series via my Patreon, Silverleaf! Thanks so much to bed for letting me continue in this classic Teacher AU strain, I’m really enjoying it. All of Silverleaf is here, and my patreon is here. 

Michiru Kaioh was a woman of resolve, and had been since she was a young girl, trained on the vine as she was. When she saw something she wanted, be it art accolades, a position in the symphony, a couture gown, she found her way to it, one way or the other.

Michiru would never have admitted that she felt much the same way about women, but in her heart, she knew it to be true. She had never had much trouble claiming them, either. In her most private moments, this haunted her, the way everything was a consumable object in her world, and she herself felt like a product her parents had made and trained, more molded than even their champion Samoyeds. 

But she always shrugged it off as simply the way the world was, and anyone who acted differently was mostly speaking out of jealousy that Michiru had the game played so well.

She walked to Haruka’s office, drink in hand, the words Rei had said still playing in her head. It was somewhat strange, Michiru admitted, that Haruka intrigued so much as to be worth all the discord of pursuing her. But maybe she hadn’t been altogether lying, either, when she had said that it was as much to prove a point to Mina as anything else, that Mina was the tiny tyrant of the arts department.

In any case, Michiru thought, sometimes one deserved a treat.

She stood at Haruka’s doorway, simply regarding her as one might a piece of art.

She was bent over her desk, her blonde hair somewhat unkempt—she must have been running her hands through it all morning—dressed handsomely, her tie spilling onto the book in front of her. She mumbled softly to herself, carefully reading the pages in front of her.

Haruka sat up straight, and looked at the wall, her arms crossed.

“Now, I’m not saying you should or shouldn’t do it, but, uh, if you do, you should do it with someone who you like, and uh, respects you, and maybe—oh my god how have I never learned to do this?” She put her head into her palm, and rubbed her hair back and forth, moving like waves under her hand.

Michiru gave her close mouthed giggle, and Haruka turned quickly, her cheeks a deep pink.

Michiru extended the drink. “I see you need this more than I had previously imagined.”

Haruka’s office was a busy place that morning, she thought.

Michiru stood at the door, smelling as she always did, of jasmine and rose and neroli and wealth, gorgeous and intimidating and impeccably trained, like Silverleaf itself, a smile on her face and a drink in her hand.

It was mounded with whipped cream and sprinkles, sweet and chocolatey, just what Haruka liked, and the thought passed her mind momentarily that it was strange that she should know exactly what Haruka drank. And yet somehow it seemed the most natural thing in all the world.

Haruka tried not to blush, and fiddled with the back of her hair. “Michiru, sorry, I was just--”

“A difficult lesson today, I gather.” She set down the drink on Haruka’s desk and sat in the chair next to hers.

It was an odd but telling thing, Michiru noticed, the way her office was set up, the desk facing against the wall, her student seating more beside her than across from her, the way she turned to face them when she spoke to them. She was not used to life at Silverleaf, the strict lines of authority drawn, and privately Michiru hoped she would never become so.

Haruka gave a laugh. “Not my best work.”

Michiru smiled in a way she hoped was reassuring. “I am sure you will do wonderfully,” She shrugged in her delicate way, “In any case, if my memory of my youth is correct, they will be too preoccupied with their own awkwardness to bother with any of yours.”

“Yeah,” Haruka grinned, “you’re probably right.”

Haruka fiddled with the straw of the drink Michiru had given her, unsure of what to say.  Michiru was clearly, in some way, drawn to her. Or was she simply being polite? Michiru was beautiful, and cultured, and years of wondering if she was being too pushy, too bold, too butch had made Haruka cautious around women.

She could be very brave, if the issue was just throwing herself in front of a truck to save a kitten, or something easy like that, she thought.

But it couldn’t all be in her head. Her therapist had told her to trust her instincts more often, to give herself a little grace in situations. There was nothing about her that was any less deserving of Michiru than anyone else.

She took a deep, brave breath.

“Michiru, would you maybe want to,” she shrugged, trying to seem casual, “go out for dinner? Sometime? Or maybe just—“

“Oh why, Haruka, I’d love to, I rather thought you’d never ask.” She smiled, her eyelashes fanning dark and soft at the edges of her eyes. “What did you have in mind?”

Haruka stopped for a moment. She really hadn’t considered it this far. She hadn’t considered asking her at all, really. The right moment never seemed to appear, and Mina kept harping on the fact that Michiru was not to be trusted, Michiru was dangerous, and she didn’t want Haruka to get ensnared in her trap or whatever bizarre idea Mina had in her head this week.

“Um,” She sounded significantly less debonair than she’d hoped, “I could take you out to dinner?”

“As it so happens, I’m free tonight. How serendipitous.”

“Tonight?” Suddenly it all crashed on Haruka, what she had asked, like the swift wave of an emotional tsunami, but she held fast. “uh, yeah, okay,” she grinned. “Tonight”

__

Haruka seemed excited about something as soon as she came home, Mouse noticed from his basket full of afghans. She dumped her bag at the door and rushed into the bathroom, flipping on the shower immediately.  

This was unusual behavior, and it was unusual behavior that might get in the way of Mouse’s dinnertime. His human could be so excitable, sometimes, and she forgot the important things.

He stretched deeply and strolled into the bathroom, where Haruka was removing her clothes and tossing them to the floor, nearly tossing her undershirt onto Mouse.

“Excuse me,” he mewed, “ but I believe you’ve forgotten something, Haruka.”  

Haruka looked down at him. “Hi Mousie! I promise I’ll get your dinner going as soon as I get out of the shower, I need time for my hair to dry right.” She tested the water with her hand and jumped into the stream of water.

Humans, Mouse had noticed, were inefficient in their cleaning.

He jumped up on the edge of the tub and stuck his nose behind the curtain.

“For what? For Mina to come over with takeout? Isn’t tonight when you watch that show with the dates and the roses?”  Haruka usually didn’t forget things like this.

He loved his human very much, had loved her from the day Mina had dumped him unceremoniously onto her bed and declared that either Haruka needed to feed him or he would starve to death. She had seemed so sad. He had only been a kitten, but he remembered that, the way her entire aura seemed to cry.

She didn’t get like that anymore, not often, and it made him happy, but she still needed to work on some things, still, first and foremost being adherence to a reasonable schedule.

She looked down at him. “No, I promise I’ll feed you in a minute, Mouse. I have a date tonight.”

A date! It had been quite a while since Haruka had a date, having had a few odd experiences with dating websites, and a few heartbreaking ones with friends of friends. Mouse had often reaped the benefits of extra cuddles after dates gone bad, but they were never as enjoyable as happy cuddles for him.

“Use the fancy bodywash, the one that came in a package with that cologne,” he twitched his tail, “it smells nice on you.”

“In a second, honey!” Haruka called back to him.

Mouse shook his head and jumped down from the tub’s edge. Humans.

Mouse strolled out to the living room, bell tinkling softly as he surveyed the place. He certainly hoped Haruka wasn’t planning on bringing that girl back to this messy place , whoever she was now--very likely the orchestra teacher Haruka kept telling him about who had hair like the waves of the ocean and eyes like a sparkling sea and laughter that sparkled like light on the water and many such other things.

Mouse was curious to see if she were a human or the Mediterranean.

Haruka could be so dramatic, even if her grand gestures were part of her charm, he thought, glancing at the giant and well-decorated cat tree in the corner she’d given him for his birthday.

As if to prove his point, Haruka rushed through the living room and into the small kitchen, wrapped halfway in a towel and dripping water onto the floor.

Mouse scowled at the small puddle in front of him as Haruka poured his food into a bowl and set it on the ground. He looked up at her with a sense of expectation.

“It’s Tv night.” He mewed.

Haruka stared at him a moment and then shook her head. “Right, right.” She pulled a small bag out of the fridge, and drizzled some gravy on his food. “I didn’t mean to forget.”

She rushed off as Mouse chewed his food thoughtfully. He wondered if this new woman liked cats. It was essential she liked cats, he and Haruka were a team, and had been for the past few years. He’d advised her on how to decorate the place, including the very important basket of warm afghans. Haruka needed him. Who else would groom her when she forgot to get up on Saturday mornings, or sleep on her chest? These were important jobs.

Haruka slipped into the bathroom in her nice dark jeans and sportcoat, holding her tie in her hand.

Mouse swallowed another bite of food and sauntered into the bathroom, twitching his tail. The grey was nice on her, and he liked when she wore the lavender shirt with it--it really made her eyes pop.

Mouse was quite fashionable, he would have this new woman know.

"This is the night, Mouse." Haruka adjusted her tie in the mirror as he jumped up onto the counter to examine her outfit. "What do you think?"

"You look very handsome!" mewed Mouse happily. "I've always liked that tie."

"Yeah, the hair is all wrong, isn't it?" She messed with it in the mirror, frowning.

Mouse flicked his tail. She never understood him, no matter how clearly or simply he spoke. He'd only managed to teach her a few words with any reliability. She could be very dumb, but Mouse loved his human anyway.

Haruka tried to curl her hair artfully above her eyebrow, winding it around her finger. It stayed a moment, and then drooped unhelpfully against her nose, and she sighed heavily, pressing her fingers to her temples.

“Now, stop that,” he placed his front paws on her chest, looking her in the face, “you look wonderful, and she’ll love you.”

Haruka kissed the top of his head and picked up her cologne.

“Just don’t talk about your ex-girlfriend after three glasses of sangria.”

She smiled at him. “Thanks for the pep talk, Mouse. Papa’ll be home before midnight. Keep the bed warm for me.”

She didn’t always get it, Mouse thought, but sometimes, she understood.

[tumblunni]

OKAY I FOUND SOMEONE SCANNED THE JAPANESE VERSION OF THE PERSONA 5 ARTBOOK!!! I’m still preordering the english version though. And this seems to have a LOT more text info and interviews than other artbooks I’ve got, so the english version will still be enlightening even though i cant resist the temptation to read this preview here... So yeah, I’m gonna link this in case anyone else wants to see! And also cos i really wanna talk about the interesting stuff AAAA!

IT HERE

But seriously I would feel ALL OF THE GUILT if I just read this and DIDNT buy the real version when it comes out in my country. So I’d heavily advise that all of y’all buy it too, okay? Its just real hard to wait til september.

Bunni’s Thoughts About Things In This Thing:

* The one everyone already seemed to know was Yusuke’s beta design, I think it was shown in an english interview or something? But yeah, I already knew about this, but I still really think he looks even cooler with long hair! And I like that they ended up using this design for his mother instead. That just feels like a really sweet way to deal with beta designs! Apparantly Ann’s design was based on Rise’s beta design from the last game, so its nice to know that atlus always tries to find ways to keep promising ideas, even if they dont work with the current project. ANYWAY BETA YUSUKE OF CUTE

* Also unrelated but: did you know that Yusuke slapping people during the Harisen Recovery skill was actually a GLITCH and not a feature?? It strikes me as weird that they didn’t catch that in the super long time it took to finish the various dubs. Its a meme in japanese fandom too, so its definately in every version of the game! They only just patched it recently and I AM SAD NOW. It fit really well as an easter egg for this character in particular, lol.

* ALSO I am sorry that i commonly misspell his name as Yosuke. Its weird cos I never get Ryoji and Ryuji mixed up... ANYWAY BACK TO COOL BETA TALK AND NOT JUST YUSUKE LOVE TIME

* Beta Wakaba (futaba’s mom) used to have the hairstyle that was given to Haru instead! O_o She looks really cute with it, I guess they thought it was hard to make the shadow boss scary with such awesome hair. There’s also a beta doodle of what seems to be an alternate introduction scene, where the party would be walking down an alleyway and her giant face would appear behind them as a jumpscare. I THINK I WOULD HAVE FUCKIN DIED! that’s some fuan no tane shit!

* Man I didnt even recognise beta kawakami! O_O I would have thought that was beta takemi, or even yusuke’s mom again...

* Oh man, Sae is already one of the coolest and most beautiful looking characters but seriously beta Sae has EVEN MORE of that badass butch lady handsomeness holy shit. If I can appreciate her aesthetic so much as an asexual person, I can only imagine how other fans would feel about this!

* I have legit no idea who this character is, but she looks badass! Its a shame this imgurl dump of scans is completely out of order, lol! Another reason to buy the official version when its translated: actually knowing the context of things! XD

* Same design for papa okumura’s shadow, but it seems there was originally an idea for a chase minigame with his shadow. Instead of being weak with an army of reinforcements to fight thru, he’d be weak but keep fleeing in his motor chair thing. Considering how much I DESPISED the chase minigames in Nocturne and DDS2, i am really damn glad they didnt do that...

* BETA PERSONAS!! Wow they’re so different?? Its weird how they seem to be like.. different art styles/personalities for the same character idea? Maybe this was from before the personalities of everyone had been pinned down, or maybe the personas originally belonged to different party members? i’m really curious by the goemon in a modern punk style, did he belong to ryuji??? MORE BETA PERSONAS!! Oh holy SHIT, johanna is SUCH a good design! like... what?? BADASS!! typical lady pope face attatched to a buff as fuck body in a jojo-esque costume, with like an encapsulated hat thing with halves of a mask of a cliche male pope. This design has way more to do with the actual story of that mythological figure! Popecycle was cool too tho, I think maybe they should have made someone else be popecycle, and then johanna could be the second persona using this design and taking the place of Anat.

* Beta Ohya has a nice design! Its not even necessarily a cooler costume or anything, I just like how they try and show her personality more through it. She looks more dishevelled and overworked and has some bandages. Dunno why they couldnt have worked that into her final design!

* BETA MORGANA WHAT THE FUCK jesus christ thats almost as creepy as some of the beta Teddie designs I mean, I like using swirly eyes on a lot of my mascot ideas too, but that sort of face just looks a bit unnerving along with the body being like.. all leather and weirdly detailed. Its like ann’s costume but on a damn cat! As its skin! What!

* Some goofy expressions of final design morgana that ended up not being used.

* Beta Iwai looks like a younger AZ from pokemon??

* Beta design for protagonist’s thief costume and persona, which were WILDLY different! I like the all-concealing cloak, it looks like it would have animated really flashily. Tho i totally agree that showing more of protagonist’s actual design works better for the version of him you’ll be seeing 24/7 in battles.

* Not a beta design, but look at this concept art of Makoto beating up everyone. I love makoto so much.

* Aww I kinda prefer the beta costume for [spoily endgame character]. It makes her seem closer to [other two characters of relevance to her]. I mean, not like I dislike her costume, but I really liked [those two characetrs’s costume] so hers seemed a bit boring in comparison. Having it at least have more similar design elements to other [people in that place] would have gone a long way towards making her seem less like just... Alice, as a person isntead of a persona. (It would have been a cool plot if that was her backstory tho, lol!)

* I HAVE NO IDEA WHO ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS ARE BUT I LOVE THEM! Are they rejected Confidants? Or designs for characters mentioned in confidants who never appeared? i wish we got to see the sick lil girl in takemi’s subplot, it would be cute if she looked like that design there.

* Another beta of Milady! She used to have the same design but different weapons would come out in a different way. Knives instead of guns looks a lot scarier, but I dont like the weird garbage disposal mermaid thing, just from the fact people would inevitably make vagina jokes.

* Beta Futaba was very similar but just with different outfits. She looks really cute with a beanie hat and EVEN MORE becomes Literally Me As A Character. Seriouslyyyyyy

* Also we never get to see the mounting animation for futaba’s ultimate persona. I like it a lot better cos robot hands come out and carry her to the cockpit, instead of weird tentacles. Seriously, again, inevitable pile of stupid sex jokes about that. *sigh*

* A nice bigger reference of P5 Loki design, without all the SFX and stuff during that boss battle. I really like the way he sits on his sword sassily, and how it levitates around instead of swinging it normally. I also never noticed he has hoof-like heels! With that and the long ponytails it kinda looks like they were trying to give him an eight limbs sort of look, so maybe the design is meant to invoke Sleipnir?

* HEY. UMM. HOH. LEE. SHIT. I guess this kinda counts as beta cos we never get to see this, even if its part of the final design?? Seriously, I thought the shiny red bit was like the visor of his helmet, not a mouthpiece! LOKI’S HORNS COME OUT OF HIS FUCKING EYEBALLS! What the FUCK, they should have shown some sort of animation to make that clearer, that would be SO scary and fitting for that particular boss fight!

* A few beta outfits for our heroes! Ryuji originally had a clown mask instead of a skull, and Makoto wore a jacket with a biker gang logo, in addition to everything else biker gang. INCREASE BIKER GANG! Eeeeeven more beta outfit designs! Some more cyberpunky thing for ann, and a blue colourscheme protagonist, and a character with a sledgehammer who seems unused. There’s Iwai’s gecko tattoo there, so maybe originally his role was gonna be a school-aged ally instead of an adult shopkeeper? or maybe his son would join the party? The hero also originally wore Arsene’s top hat, and there’s this mysterious pic of two characters that I dunno who they are?? They look like twins, so it makes me wonder if that means there was originally a gender choice for the protag...

* A lot of storyboards for scenes that never happened! There’s a female character we’ve never seen before, so maybe that adds more to the theory of a rejected fem!protag option...

* Beta Ann had a bunch of different ways they tried to make her look like catwoman but not too much catwoman. She also used to use a crossbow as her ranged weapon!