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#I AM tempted to do a version with skirts though since that's in a lot of what I see for cottagecore fashion
deliciouskeys · 5 months
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@cozycornerkinktober's prompt #14: Forced feminization
Private Halloween (Homelander x Maeve)
Warnings: Rated E. Top the Homelander, for the most part, although definitely some sublander, whippedlander elements and some genderfuck in case the prompt wasn't a giveaway. Precanon, set in 2014. AO3 link. Directly inspired by my favorite non-HL picture of Antony Starr:
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Homelander laughs. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going out in that. What do you think the tabloids would say?”
“That you’re a fun guy with a sense of humor, maybe?” Maeve exhales smoke from her vape. Their relationship has really soured over the years, and she’s pretty sure she’s just acting purely from a place of spite nowadays, testing to see how far she can go before he decides to call it quits. Apparently he’ll tolerate a lot. It’s like he’s really in love with her or at least whatever sickening twisted version of love that his mind is capable of.
“Maeve, be serious,” he says. Oh god is he actually pleading with her? Why can’t he just see that they have nothing in common, that she’s smoking to annoy him, and that she’s specifically chosen a costume he won’t wear so she can tell him how lame and cowardly he is?
“What am I supposed to be serious about? You wearing a cheerleader costume for Halloween?”
Homelander purses his lips. “If I wear this in public they’ll think I’m a pervert.”
“Good. They’ll be right.” She’s really pushing it. She better be careful lest he decide that it’s easier to laser her in half than break up with her. But the grinding of his jaw stops and to her horror instead of walking out in a huff, he puts his hands on the bed and crawls forward, insinuating himself between her legs, nudging them apart and rubbing his cheek along one of her inner thighs. She tries to draw back but he just follows her body.
“If you really want me to, I’ll wear it. Just for you.”
Jesus, he’s in this kind of mood today? The ‘I’ll do anything for you’ knight in shining armor mode? Maeve really doesn’t understand what he sees in her. She’s not only not trying to be a good girlfriend, she’s actively acting repulsive towards him. And yet here he is, looking up at her with puppy dog eyes so she’s actually tempted to pat him on the head even though he’s a 33 year old man whom she’s seen do despicable things while out on missions together. Whom she’d already firmly said no to on the topic of marriage, despite the fear that he might kill her for it.
“What do you mean just for me? In the bedroom?” It’s not a good compromise at all, but Maeve does want to see him wear the outfit.
“Mmhmm,” he mumbles, making a trail of tiny kisses up her inner thigh, getting close to her boyshorts. He’s hated boyshorts ever since he found out that’s what they were called, so she wears them every day to annoy him. But he’s stopped complaining. Whatever she tries to do to annoy him, he just seems to get used to ignoring. He’s infuriatingly adaptable that way.
“Okay, fine, put it on just for me,” she says with resignation.
Homelander goes into the bathroom to change. Of all things to be weird and shy about, he still doesn’t seem to like her watching him removing the top piece of his suit. As if she doesn’t notice the contrast between the foam padded uniform and the smaller, leaner version that emerges out of that stiff structured shell unless she sees the undressing happen in front of her. Maeve wonders if she should be thankful he has never complained about any part of her body, given how many hangups he appears to have about his own.
Homelander walks out of her bathroom, red white and blue uniform on, “USA” in bold bright letters across the chest (Maeve was kind enough to at least keep that theme consistent). He’s still smoothing out the pleated skirt. Maeve has to admit the feminine getup actually makes him look muscular and manly, because even though she got a large size, his biceps are something a woman would find hard to achieve, and his calves have an unmistakably male musculature.
“Where’s the wig?” she asks.
Homelander looks up at her with a deer in the headlights look. “I… you want that too?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Maeve says coldly but gets up off the bed. “Here let me help you with the makeup too.”
Homelander follows her back into the bathroom, looking a little bit lost, probably wondering why she wants all this from him. If none of the other hints Maeve has dropped about liking women have ever sunk in, she’s sure this one won’t either. She puts the wig on him, tucking his real hair into the scratchy cheap mesh, a blond long bob with bangs and falling just below the chin. It doesn’t look half bad on him, somehow, despite being a cheap Halloween item. Maeve makes him sit down on the toilet lid and picks up her minimalist makeup bag. He doesn’t move a muscle as she does his face. She finds it surprisingly hard to do it for someone else, all her motions feeling strange when not directed by a mirror image. But she enjoys watching Homelander sit there so obediently, ramrod straight, face impassive, only moving his eyes when she instructs him to look up at the ceiling to get his upper lashes done, or to smack his lips to spread out the lipstick.
He glances in the mirror as they walk out of the bathroom but doesn’t seem to have any opinion on her work.
“Now you can eat me out,” Maeve says, spreading herself out on the bed, taking her underwear off and tossing it on the floor. Homelander’s nostrils flare– it’s yet another thing she finds disturbing about him, the fact that he can detect her arousal and visibly inhales it deeply. At least right now they’re in the privacy of her bedroom, but he’s done it when they’ve been out and about, and she was fully clothed. She’s never called him out on it, because she’s not sure he’s aware others can see him doing it, or even that he’s doing it at all.
Homelander doesn’t put any effort into acting in any way female, but when he hooks her legs over his shoulders, buries his face into her folds, and starts sucking and licking her clit like she’d taught him all those years ago, it suddenly doesn’t matter. Looking down at him in the wig and silly cheerleader outfit she can suddenly pretend this is someone else entirely, even a different gender, and it’s an amazing turnon. Maeve leans back and moans in pleasure, and Homelander redoubles his efforts, unaware of her little mental infidelity. She’s soaking his face and he, good boy that he is, doesn’t pause much at all, sometimes running his tongue further down to slurp up what’s spilling out of her, drinking it up as if he’s parched. She’s sure he wants to bury himself deep inside her, but he knows not to make a move until her say so. That’s another bit of good manners she’s trained in him.
“You’re such a good girl,” Maeve moans out, wanting to grab him by the long hair and pull but thinking better of it since the wig will probably slide right off.
Homelander doesn’t seem fazed by the particular words she's using in praise of him and reapplies himself with more fervor, sucking on a large area while still flicking his tongue across her sensitive spots. Maeve’s eyes are hazy with pleasure but she still watches the pleated skirt slide or bounce a little bit whenever Homelander has to shift to rearrange himself. She comes loudly, gripping the sheets, squeezing his head between her thighs with crushing strength. Any mortal wouldn’t survive that kind of pressure but she knows Homelander enjoys getting his head trapped in this orgasmic vise of hers.
She was going to be cruel. She was going to put on a strapon and make him get up on her cock and bounce around on it. She was going to make him do a cheerleading chant in falsetto and spell out her name and any number of other ridiculous things. But when she looks down and sees those same puppydog, now eyeliner-lined eyes looking up at her not just hopefully but lovingly, she can’t do it. He’s so clueless and pathetic, she can’t even mock him like she wants to.
“May I?” he asks, and oh how dopey and hokey he sounds with that formal question, and she can’t deny him.
Homelander picks her up with ease, and seats her on his cock as he’s standing. Maeve doesn’t like the position– all the boring aspects of missionary, but none of the comfort of being on the bed on her back. Her feet don’t even reach the floor so she’s dangling awkwardly, held up by him, at his mercy, and with a constant reminder of how weightless she is in his arms. But she won’t tell him she hates it, because that would mean she’s lied about the five hundred previous times.
“Oh Maeve,” he says, hiking her up higher so he can bury his face into her chest. Maeve sometimes wonders if he’s a boob man but has tragically resigned himself to her B cups because she’s the only one strong enough to withstand unbridled sex with him. “I love you.”
Maeve cringes. Maybe this is the one aspect where he easily take on the traditional female role– pining for a connection, openly talking about love, naively hoping it will get reciprocated even though he’s been unquestionably rebuffed. She thinks about this as he lowers her down, easily sheathing himself into her relaxed, still aroused body, fucking up into her with ugly low grunts and inelegant jerky motions. But the wig is still on, and rather than look at his twisted, pained looking approaching-O face, Maeve chooses to focus on the blond tresses framing his face bouncing to and fro with each thrust. She focuses on the tremble of his eyelashes– already dark and enviably long to start with– now garishly enhanced with mascara. And for a moment she can pretend this is a stranger, an athletic, strong, but still feminine stranger, who’s giving her the ride of her life. Maeve can’t remember the last time she came on his cock, but she beats him to the punch this time, another orgasm rocking through her and causing her entire body to shake in his grasp. He notices and grins weakly, before returning right back to his pained, scrunched up face as his own pleasure hits him.
They lie side by side in her bed afterwards, and he doesn’t make a peep about her vaping, just all smiles and cocky little winks from time to time. She didn’t realize how happy her finishing around his cock would make him.
“You make a pretty woman,” she says, trying to reemphasize what it was that revved her up so much. “Maybe you should wear that every time we have sex.”
He snorts. “Didn’t know you were a lesbian.”
“I’m bi, actually,” she says, wondering what on earth possessed her to finally tell him bluntly. Apparently she feels intent on testing how much he’ll put up with from her.
Homelander pauses, mulling over her words, and she starts to regret them, growing apprehensive. Sometimes she forgets how easily angered he can get at others, and how much damage he can do when the mood suits him. But the long pause culminates with a simple “Good one.” He won’t listen to what he doesn’t want to hear, that’s a trait she should know well by now.
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catzgam3rz · 3 years
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Ohhhh Oh Pink Parrots my beloved....
(this is just a sketch but I'm so fucking happy with how it's turning out I wanted to share ;w;)
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Pride and Prejudice 1940: "When Pretty Girls T-E-A-S-E-D Men Into Marriage"
Made during the Great Depression, this classic black and white film is loosely based on Austen's novel and is set in what is likely the 1830s rather than the Regency Era (late 18th century to early 19th century). It is an escapist piece which capitalizes on nostalgia for a simpler time by transporting its viewers to a chocolate-box vision of the past, while paying homage to Austen's social satire by delivering plenty of laughs along the way.
Overall Thoughts on the Film:
The first time I watched this movie, I was confused because the plot as well as the setting was revised significantly (the events after Darcy's first proposal are changed to hasten the happy ending; Darcy's letter and Elizabeth's visit to Pemberley are not included in this movie). This changing of plot points makes the 2005 movie a much more faithful adaptation in comparison with this version, in spite of the creative liberties both take with the novel.
Production Design:
The movie is a typical example of Golden Age Hollywood productions, with beautiful actresses and melodramatic flourishes added to increase the drama. Some of the lines are delivered very quickly, in keeping with the comedic style of the time.
The music: definitely not historically accurate. A lot of sentimental, "ye olde timey" string arrangements that emphasize emotions or fast-paced waltz music for balls/parties.
The 1830s costumes are beautiful; it seems as if no expense (or quantity of fabric) was spared in making them. The bonnets are way taller and have more decorations than typical 1830s bonnets. Some of the patterns/fabric choices are very 1930s, and the costumes are exaggerated in such as way as to make the wearers look like fancy turkeys.
Hair and Makeup: very 1930s, with finger/sausage curls, plucked eyebrows, lipstick/lip makeup, and long lashes.
The sets: the dollhouse-like interiors are lavishly gilded and made to look as opulent as possible. Outdoors scenes are lush, with lots of flowers and bushes; the garden in which the second proposal takes place is gorgeous. The set design transports the viewer into an idyllic vision of the bucolic English countryside.
The Lead Actors:
With the exception of Laurence Olivier, the majority of the actors are American, since this is a Hollywood production. Many of the characters in the film's imaginary vision of pastoral Britain speak American or make clumsy attempts to imitate British English.
Greer Garson: while she is definitely too old for the part, she perfectly conveys Elizabeth's intelligence, outspokenness, and sarcasm. Her facial expressions are killer as well; with the arch of an eyebrow along with a snarky side eye, she captivates us all. All in all, Garson effectively shows off Elizabeth's impertinence through her nonverbal acting (this reminds me strongly of Jennifer Ehle's Elizabeth Bennet).
Laurence Olivier: he effectively conveys Darcy's pride while hinting at his deeper feelings beneath the surface (I can see why Colin Firth spoke so highly of Olivier's portrayal of Darcy). Most importantly, the film emphasizes Darcy's intelligence; he is certainly Elizabeth's intellectual equal. While this portrayal of Darcy is very accurate to the book, Darcy's pride does go away pretty quickly (he and Elizabeth form a tentative friendship early on) and his social awkwardness isn't immediately obvious thanks to his charm. Also the unflattering hairstyle with the greasy hair and painted on sideburns makes me sad.
Key Scenes:
Opening scene: The title card appeals directly to the audience's nostalgia for a sentimental, romanticized past: “It happened in OLD ENGLAND (this was actually capitalized), in the village of Meryton…” The Bennet women are at a fabric shop, where they gossip with aunt Phillips about the rich people moving into Netherfield Park.
The carriage race: this scene, which isn’t in the original novel, represents the rivalry between the Bennets and Lucases. The mothers both want their daughters to be the first to snag the rich bachelors.
The first ball: There is a historical anachronism as the music is a waltz by Strauss, who became popular in late 19th century, specifically the Gilded Age; far too early for the Regency Era or 1830s England. Other changes from the original novel include Elizabeth meeting Wickham before Darcy; other events from Aunt Phillips’ ball (which isn’t included in this movie) and Wickham and Darcy’s confrontation are included in this scene.
Elizabeth’s impression of Darcy at the ball: she puts on airs and mocks his casual dismissal of her as tolerable (definitely a parallel with the 1995 version, where Jennifer Ehle does the same, but privately with Jane).
Great comedic change: Darcy introduces himself to Elizabeth after calling her tolerable and asks if she will dance with him (this originally takes place at Mr. Lucas' ball). Right after rejecting Darcy, she instantly agrees to dance with Wickham; in a humorous moment, Darcy evacuates to a corner of the room to sulk while seeing Wickham dance with Elizabeth.
The “Accomplished woman” scene: the dialogue lifted directly from the book for the most part. Darcy, in a departure from his trademark seriousness, shows off his playful side when reacting to Caroline Bingley's "turn about the room." I particularly like this added repartee from Elizabeth Bennet to Darcy, which is clever but also foreshadows her prejudice: “If my departure is any punishment, you are quite right. My character reading is not too brilliant.”
Elizabeth can't stand Mr. Collins: After twirling about his monocle, he pronounces that: “It might interest you to know my taste was formed by lady Catherine de Bourgh.” The best part of this scene is when Elizabeth plucks a wrong note on her harp when Collins gets really annoying.
The Netherfield ball (which is now a garden party):
Elizabeth running away from Mr. Collins: She looks rather ridiculous, almost like an overdressed turkey, in a white dress with puffy sleeves as she runs away from an overeager Collins. Then she hides in the bushes while Darcy helps her to hide, telling Collins he doesn't know where she is. It's fun but most likely not something a proper lady and gentleman would do (two people of the opposite gender out alone, shock!).
The archery scene: Darcy attempts to teach Elizabeth how to shoot a bow and arrow, even though he doesn’t hit the bullseye. She goes on to impress him by perfectly hitting the bullseye every time; Darcy learns his lesson: "Next time I talk to a young lady about archery I won't be so patronizing." Caroline Bingley, very passive aggressive as usual, shows up for her archery lesson right after and it's absolutely perfect.
Mr. Collins attempts to introduce himself to Mr. Darcy: Laurence Olivier captures Darcy so perfectly in this scene (really set the precedent for Colin Firth). When Mr. Collins starts talking (inviting Elizabeth to dance with him) Darcy tries to keep himself well-composed but has a pained expression on his face as if he’s about to pass out. Olivier masters the way Darcy can look so miserable but also disgusted and proud at the same time.
Mr. Collin's proposal to Elizabeth: I like the added touch of Mrs. Bennet pulling Elizabeth back by her skirt when she tries to run out of the room. The dialogue is taken directly from the book, and the scene is made even funnier when Collins holds on to Elizabeth's hand desperately and doesn’t let her get away. My only quibble is that Elizabeth isn’t indignant enough when Mr. Collins doesn't take no for an answer.
Elizabeth and Darcy at Rosings: I like that Olivier subtly indicates that Darcy is clearly affected upon seeing Elizabeth at Rosing, hinting at deeper feelings beneath the surface. I also like how the scriptwriter emphasizes that Darcy indirectly praises Elizabeth and enjoys their conversations, while she remains convinced that he hates her. Sadly, the original dialogue of the piano scene is not included, which is unfortunate as it allows Darcy to reveal his introvert tendencies, calling into question Elizabeth's assertion that he is unpardonably proud.
First proposal: The famous opening lines are mutilated with awkward punctuation: “It’s no use. I’ve struggled in vain. I must tell you how much I admire and love you." While the rest of the dialogue matches up closely with what happens in Austen's novel, both of the actors aren’t emotional enough; instead Elizabeth cries very daintily, and Darcy remains serene, which conflicts with the book's description of both of them being very angry and defensive at each other.
THE SCRIPT:
The first half of the film up to Darcy's first proposal follows the events of the original book closely, though certain blocks of dialogue are moved elsewhere and other events such as Mrs. Phillips' party are skipped over. The most significant changes, besides updating the setting to the 1830s, are made to the second half of the book to squeeze the key events of the story into the movie before delivering the inevitable happy ending.
Brilliant Quotes:
Mr. Bennet's reaction to Mrs. Bennet's despair over the situation of their 5 unmarried daughters: “Perhaps we should have drowned some of them at birth.”
Darcy insists Elizabeth cannot tempt him: “Ugh. Provincial young lady with a lively wit. And there’s that mother of hers.”
Darcy is an arrogant snob: “I’m in no humor tonight to give consequence to the middle classes at play.” (Technically the Bennets are part of the gentry; they just are less wealthy than Darcy).
Elizabeth's reaction to Darcy pronouncing her to be tolerable at best: “What a charming man!”
Elizabeth rebuffs Darcy's offer to dance after overhearing his insult: “I am afraid that the honor of standing up with you is more than I can bear, Mr Darcy.”
Elizabeth favors Wickham after witnessing the bad blood between him and Darcy: “Without knowing anything about it I am on your side.”
Mrs. Bennet's comment after she sends Jane to Netherfield under stormy skies: “There isn’t anything like wet weather for engagements. Your dear father and I became engaged in a thunderstorm.”
Mr. Bennet's reaction to Jane's fever: “Jane must have all the credit for having caught the cold…we’re hoping Elizabeth will catch a cold and stay long enough to get engaged to Mr. Darcy. And if a good snowstorm could be arranged we’d send Kitty over!”
The sisters' description of Mr. Collins: “Oh heavens! what a pudding face.”
Caroline Bingley at the Netherfield garden party: “Entertaining the rustics is not as difficult as I feared. Any simple childish game seems to amuse them excessively.”
Darcy reassuring Elizabeth after helping her escape Mr. Collins: “If the dragon returns St. George will know how to deal with it.”
Darcy learns his lesson after Elizabeth beats him at archery: “The next time I talk to a young lady about archery I won’t be so patronizing.”
Elizabeth comments about a curtain: “Oh that’s pretty. It’s a pity you didn’t make it bigger. You could have put it around Mr. Collins when he becomes a bore.”
Elizabeth on Kitty and Lydia: “2 daughters out of 5, that represents 40% of the noise.”
Elizabeth sees Lady Catherine for the first time: “So that’s the great lady Catherine. Now I see where he learned his manners.”
Lady Catherine's attitude towards philanthropy: “You must learn to draw a firm line between the deserving poor and the undeserving poor.”
Darcy takes Elizabeth's advice: “I’ve thought a great deal about what you said at Netherfield, about laughing more...but it only makes me feel worse."
Elizabeth and Darcy have a conversation with Colonel Fitzwilliam: “He likes the landscape well enough, but the natives, the natives, what boors, what savages … Isn’t that what you think, Mr. Darcy?” With a smile: “It evidently amuses you to think so, Miss Bennet."
CHANGES FROM THE BOOK:
The first half of the film up to Darcy's first proposal follow the events of the original book closely, though certain blocks of dialogue are moved elsewhere and other events such as Mrs. Phillips' party are skipped over. The most significant changes, besides updating the setting to the 1830s, are made to the second half of the book to squeeze the key events of the story into the movie before delivering the inevitable happy ending.
With the exception of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, the portrayals of the characters are (generally) true to the book.
As I said earlier, the film neglects any sort of historical accuracy when setting the story in romanticized "Old England," where genteel people pass simple lives that revolve around dresses, tea parties, social gossip, and marriages. A lot of Austen adaptations present an idealized vision of Regency life, where people are dressed immaculately, flawlessly adhere to "chivalry," and find love in the ballroom. This contributes to the misconception that Austen's novels are shallow chick-lit books with flat characters who live for lavish parties and hot men, instead of stories of unique, complicated women who happen to be well-off but aspire towards love, respect, or independence instead of being content to make economically advantageous marriages. Austen's novels are character novels and she doesn't waste time writing about dresses or tea parties; balls, while exciting, are just another part of daily life for her characters rather than some Extremely Big Special Once In a Blue Moon Event.
Austen's multifaceted view on marriage turns into a game of matchmaking. She recognizes it as necessary for women to survive in the patriarchy, since they cannot provide for themselves unless they marry well, but at the same time, presents marriage as a means for freedom if it is a loving partnership between two people that respect each other. In contrast, marriage is a game of manipulating the partners into wanting to marry (ex. Lady Catherine and Darcy's trickery). Also, it seems to be a given that Elizabeth will marry for love, unlike in the book where it is uncertain whether she will achieve this.
Kitty and Lydia's antics are viewed much more sympathetically as those of young people having fun; in the book, their behavior harms the family's social reputation, reducing the chances the Bennet daughters have of making good marriages.
Louisa Hurst, Georgiana Darcy, and Aunt and Uncle Gardiner are not in the movie.
Wickham is introduced much earlier than in the book; he is friends with Lydia from the very beginning. Interestingly, he doesn't begin to trash-talk Darcy until Bingley leaves; in the book he does so much earlier, before the Netherfield ball.
Darcy is more considerate towards Elizabeth at the Netherfield party (ex. rescuing her from Collins), until he overhears Mrs. Bennet scheming to get the daughters married. Elizabeth forms a tentative friendship with him until finding out that he separated Jane from Bingley.
Jane is more obviously heartbroken over Bingley's departure than in the book, where she keeps her pain to herself. In the movie, she runs away to cry, which is uncharacteristic of her.
Collins is a librarian instead of a clergyman. I dislike this change because some Austen scholars/fans think that Collins being a clergyman is a deliberate choice as part of Austen's social criticism. Collins is representative of how hypocritical the Church is, since he worships Lady Catherine's wealth instead of God, and preaches moral lessons instead of actually using religion to help people. My theory is that the change was made because of the Hays Code, which led to the censorship of movies for "unwholesome" or "indecent" things; the religious criticism could have been offensive.
Elizabeth reacts rather too kindly to Charlotte marrying Collins by showing concern for the loveless marriage. While she does worry about the lack of love in the marriage, initially she is extremely surprised, outright shocked, and confused.
The scene where Darcy tries and fails to talk to Elizabeth (the "charming house" scene in the 2005 movie) just before the proposal is removed.
Darcy's letter is skipped over and Elizabeth overcomes her prejudice of Darcy very quickly, as shown when she tells Jane she regrets rejecting his proposal. This is contrary to the book, where overcoming her prejudice is an emotionally exhausting and slow process that continues all the way up until the second proposal.
The Pemberley visit is removed; instead, Elizabeth returns home to the news that Lydia has eloped. Visiting Pemberley is very important as part of Elizabeth's re-evaluation of Darcy's character and provides an opportunity for Darcy to show Elizabeth that he has changed for her. The visit is key in increasing Elizabeth's love for Darcy, and removing it means that the characters have less personal growth (also wouldn't it have been great for the audience to be treated to another gorgeous estate of "Old England?"). Instead, Darcy visits Longbourn on his own and offers his help in finding Lydia. When the news comes that Wickham accepts very little money in exchange for marrying Lydia, it isn't as shocking as it is in the book because Darcy had already expressed his intentions of helping Elizabeth earlier.
Here's the change that bugs me the most: Lady Catherine becomes good; though she is a busybody, her main priority is Darcy's happiness. Her confrontation of Elizabeth is a scheme hatched between her and Darcy as a test to be certain of Elizabeth's love. This does not make sense on so many levels: first, Darcy insists that "disguise of every sort is my abhorrence," so why would he resort to trickery, however well-intentioned, to find out if Elizabeth still loves him? Second, Lady Catherine is a social snob and objects to Elizabeth's low connections; also she has an arranged marriage planned for Darcy. Third, in the book, because Elizabeth likes Pemberley and gets along really well with his sister Georgiana, Darcy would have had some evidence that Elizabeth, in the very least, cared for him. And the added claim that Lady Catherine approves of Elizabeth because she likes rudeness and thinks Darcy needs a humorous wife irritates me further because the marriage of Elizabeth and Darcy is revolutionary since it was made in defiance of societal rules!!! Why, why, why in the name of comedy did they have to do this?!
Darcy kisses Elizabeth (in a stagey and melodramatic way) after she accepts his second proposal. Seems a bit uncharacteristic of him.
All the sisters get married at the end. Happily ever after.
CONCLUSION
This movie certainly was not aiming for faithfulness to Austen's novel; it ignores her detailed portrait of Regency era society and its attitudes and focuses on the "light, bright, and sparkling" aspect of Pride and Prejudice that gives the story its timeless appeal.
All in all, this comedy of manners is definitely a classic thanks to the clever dialogue and jokes within the script, along with some great acting.
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@appleinducedsleep @dahlia-coccinea @princesssarisa @colonelfitzwilliams @austengivesmeserotonin
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journeystartstoday · 3 years
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Story Time
The Adoption - Meeting A New Friend
Words: 4623
Summary: This is the story version of how the adoption process went from start to end with @adventures-on-foster-island ! Thanks again!
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It was unsettling to settle back in to say the least.
Going from constantly traveling to sitting at home everyday was a change neither me or my pokemon were very happy about at first. Of course, I had discussed it with them before I made the decision to come home, and of course, it was great to see my family and friends again after that year away, but it was also... slower. More controlled. Less exciting in a way that constantly being surrounded by the unexpected does to you. In my little rented appartment in Rota, there were no wild pokemon that would steal my lunches, no random trainers that would challenge me as soon as our eyes met. There were no mad dashes to outrun rain clouds and no seeking shelter with wild pokemon... everything was peaceful. Everything was safe.
Luckily, it never became boring. In my first couple of days back, just as I was taking a stroll around town to see what had changed and to greet the merchants and shopkeepers I grew up around, Miss Chiba from the bakery offered me a job. The best kind of coincidence, right? During my journey I had garnered many different recipes and tips and tricks to make different pasteries, so of course I happily agreed. Eevee was over the moon when I told them the news and insisted on keeping me company during my working hours... totally not because they had a sweet tooth and were banking on getting all the left-overs and taste tests they would likely be gifted if they hung around the kitchen all day...
Okay, so maybe I had spoiled Eevee too much on our time on the road. Nothing wrong with that.
To my surprise, Riolu declined the invitation to come along with us, even if she was as much a sweets lover as Eevee. Instead, she wanted to keep training and keep honing her powers so she could be ready for when I would inevitably go on another journey again. It was sweet, so I let her, with the promise that she came by during lunch break so we could all eat together and hear about her process.
And that's how my days back home went from then on. Eevee and I would see Riolu to the city wall and wave her goodbye as she headed towards the small forest where she liked to train, and then Eevee and I were off to the bakery. It was a nice change of pace for a while. Homey. Safe. But after a couple of weeks I started to get this weird, empty feeling. Like something was missing. Incomplete.
Whether it was because of my former partner Squirtle, who had left the team at the end of my journey through Kanto to be with a group of wild Squirtle that wanted him to be their leader and protector; or because my apartment was a little small (even if it beat my little tent by a mile) and I felt constricted somehow... I don't know. But the short version of it was that I wanted to change things up a little. I couldn't go on another journey. Not yet. Only a couple more weeks and I had enough money for that. However, a friend recommended me something else. Something better.
Adopt a pokemon.
To be honest, I was a little skeptical of it at first, since I didn't know if I was capable of caring for a pokemon that could possibly have bad memories with people, but I still wanted to give it a chance. I wouldn't be a very good trainer if I wouldn't.
It was on one of my days off, and Eevee and I persuaded Riolu to take a rest day too, so we could all walk towards the closest pokemon centre together. There, I made a call. It was to Ellisa, former pokemon researcher and head caregiver of Foster Island, an island facility dedicated to saving and caring for neglected, abandoned, or abused pokemon. Of course, there were multiple ways to adopt a pokemon, but my friend had been really adamant about this place. I could hardly argue against it, especially when she showed me one of the pokemon she had adopted from the place. It was a little cutie, so precious, but still a bit wary of other trainers. It totally convinced me. It would take a while to travel there once I had chosen a date to look at the pokemon for adoption, but at least this saved me from doing hours of research and chickening out. All in all, it was a great way to adopt a new friend.
Anyway, I called Ellisa and after a short trading of names and giving introductions, I told Ellisa my story and told her a bit about what I did in daily life nowadays. It wasn't much to go on honestly, so I was pleasantly surprised when after about two hours, Ellisa called me back to say she had a few candidates that would like to meet me! I was so excited and immediately scheduled a day I would come by. The days that followed where filled with daydreaming and planning my short trip overseas, but I was so looking forward to it that time flew by in no time!
~*~
And now I sit here, on the deck of a ship that is taking me, Riolu and Eevee towards Foster Island. Finally! I'm a little nervous if I have to be honest, but I think the knot in my stomach belongs to the good kind of nerves. The jittery, excited kind.
"Eievui!" Little brown paws clamber across my leg. Eevee smugly sits themselves on my lap and strains their neck to look over the railing of the ship.
"Be careful," I say to them, gently placing a hand against their belly to keep them from falling off. Eevee just wiggles a little on my lap, but keeps watching the water pokemon before us. Seels skirt across the water's surface, while magikarps and tympoles occasionally spring from the water in high arcs before they dissappear under the waves again. Everytime the latter happens, Eevee squals in glee, never failing to point out that there was a water pokemon there, did you see that?!
Or at least, I think they say that. I could be wrong.
I softly pat Eevee's head as they keep watching the waves and I slowly turn to meet Riolu's gaze. She stands next to the door that leads inside the boat. Ever since I received her, she has always been the 'cool' type of pokemon. Crosses her arms, stands slightly back and leans against the wall of the ship so you can't see the happy sparkle in her eyes - the whole deal. It only makes her cuter honestly. I'm carefull not to break her bubble though. She once tried to tell me that she did it because she felt like she was the protector of our little family. So cute.
She believes that for that she always has to stay back and keep watch. Keep us safe.
And she does. She really does keep us safe, both during our journey and now that we are on a trip to find a new friend. I just hope she can let her guard down a little when we meet them so there's no hostility or anything from the start. I've been told Riolu's cold demeaner scares off some pokemon, but I'm sure that won't be the case now. To be sure, I ask with my eyes if she's doing alright. She simply nods back.
Okay, so she is just as nervous as I am, I'm glad.
After a period of watching the waves and listening to the soft chitter from Eevee, the boat finally moors on Foster Island, an assistent already waiting for me there. She gives me a soft smile and brings me along to the care facility further down the coast. I'm no connoiseur on architecture, but the building just screamed safe and open to me as soon as I saw it. A lot of glass, a lot of white, happy paintings of happy pokemon on banners at both sides of the entrance. Just as we enter the building, I let Eevee down from where I kept them against my chest. I saw a small playground just to my left. They always love those.
"Come back when I call, 'kay?" I yell at their retreating form.
"Vuivui!"
...I'll search for them when the time comes.
The assistent leads me and Riolu further into the building untill we arrive at a large room, one wall completely made of glass so everyone can see the small garden on the other side. From where I enter I can already see a couple of Bidoof chasing each other in a friendly game of tag, while a Pachirisu and Buneary are peeking out from behind a bush and watch them with interest. It warms my heart to see them so carefree. Who knows what they have had to endure to come here?
"You may take a seat here," the assistent says and gestures around at the various sofa's and beanbags, "Ellisa will meet you shortly. Please make yourself comfortable."
"Thank you-" The assistent is already gone. Well. Okay.
I sit down on one particularly soft-looking beanbag and almost drown it, before righting myself. Hopefully nobody was watching the security cameras; that was akward. Next to me, Riolu snickers. I have the urge to respond sarcastically, but... well, it was kind of funny. I laugh with her.
The floor of this room is a soft carpet, pastel colored circles spread across it that makes the place look happy and safe. A perfect place to play. I'm almost tempted to throw off my shoes and let my feet rest on the soft carpet, but I decid that it would probably be best not to do that in a public space.
Riolu and I watch the pokemon behind the glass play and relax, untill a door to my right opens.
"Sky?"
"Yes, that's me."
Ellisa steps inside the room and holds out her hand. I shake it.
"It's nice to finally meet you in person," Ellisa says.
"Likewise." I smile at her, but soon my eye catches movement behind her. A small Bidoof appears from behind her legs. It's body is smaller than the Bidoof I had seen in the garden and it's teeth are far more white. Like they have been cleaned far more recently. Or are newly grown. I hope it's not the latter.
Ellisa notices my gaze and smiles softly at Bidoof. "This is Bidoof," she introduces it, "This one came to us with overgrown front teeth, as her trainer left her in a crate with nothing to chew most of the time. Her mouth has fully recovered, as you can see, as well as her fighting spirit." She came a little closer to me to whisper, "She does still have claustrophobia however, so avoid putting her in any kind of container or very small room if you choose her."
As soon as I hear that I can feel my heart break a little. That must have been horrible. No wonder even now, Bidoof seems skittish around me. It wouldn't be easy to open yourself up to new people after experiencing something like that.
"It is nice to meet you Bidoof," I say and crouch down in front of her. I want to pet her, but decide against it. Instead I give her my brightest smile. "I'm glad you're doing alright now."
Bidoof cautiously shuffles from behind Ellisa's legs and approaches me. She's just precious. When she's close enough, Bidoof dips her head down a little.
Ah, I understand.
"May I?"
"Bi-bi."
I reach out with my hand and slowly, gently cart my fingers through her fur. It is incredibly soft. Bidoof croons quietly.
"This is going to be impossible..." I murmur to myself. How will I ever choose? I stand up again, to the slight disappointment of Bidoof. Ellisa just smiles and nods at an assistent that just entered the room with a pokemon in their arms. It's a Lotad, but with a small, pale purple water lilly on it's lilly pad. It's so cute!
"This is Lotad," Ellisa says, and thanks the assistent as she takes Lotad in her own arms, "This is the sweetest little guy in our garden pool. We assume that he was abandoned before the flower bloomed, and the trainer thought he was sick when he saw the bud growing... He's pretty cold resistant, and finds it too hot here on the island. He said he'd like to travel again soon."
I smile at Lotad, who shyly turns his gaze away. I can't imagine anyone leaving him just for his looks. It almost makes me mad, but I manage to keep my smile as I nod at Lotad. "You look beautiful Lotad, anyone thinking otherwise cannot see what is right in front of them."
The water type shifts a little in Ellisa's arms, but I can see it preens at the compliment. Good.
A soft knock on the open door alerts me to the next arrival. A Skarmory stands in the doorway, it's expression closed off and cold. Scars litter it's body that resemble the silhouettes of dead trees, as if his body is still in the hold of their branches and never managed to escape them. It saddens my heart. Skarmory must notice my expression, because as he steps further into the room, he grumbles and turns his head away from me.
Ellisa starts with the introduction as if there has not already happened an akward exchange between us.
"This is Skarmory. He was rescued from a poaching operation about a year ago, and had been badly electrocuted multiple times there. Although he is all healed, his scars never disappeared..." Skarmory shifts on his legs, but keeps his eyes on the ground. "I know he may look intimidating-"
May look intimidating? He practically already rejected me after our eyes met for only a second!
"-but I swear that it's quite on the contrary. Skarmory here has the largest heart of any of the pokemon here and will put himself in danger if that means he can help those he cares about."
I swallow through the rejection and tug my lips back up in a smile. "It is nice to meet you, Skarmory." My voice gets stuck in my throat. What else can I say to him? He even refuses to look me in the eye...
No doubt picking up on my unease, Riolu steps forward and quietly growls something at Skarmory. The steel and flying type does look up from that, but his expression is anything but friendly. Before Riolu can get closer and possibly start a fight, I step in between the two hard heads.
"Be nice, you two. This is just an introduction session, no time for a battle." I look at Riolu and raise an eyebrow. Riolu huffs, but stands back. My arms drop back to my sides. "Good."
I turn to Ellisa, who is placing Lotad on the ground. She pulls a spray bottle from... somewhere, and softly sprays his lilly pad. Then as she stands up, she smiles at all three of the adoption pokemon now present.
"These are the pokemon that were the most insistent on meeting with you, Sky," she says. I can't help but be a little surprised by that and try to catch Skarmory's eyes, but he has his head down again. "You have about the next hour or so to get to know them and play a little with them. I will come back when it's time to say goodbye or for you to make a choice. You may choose if you want to stay inside or if you want to go into the garden, that's up to you. I hope you will all have a good time." After saying her goodbyes to the pokemon, she leaves us alone.
It is quiet for a second, but I decide to take the lead and break the silence. I clasp my hands together.
"Alright! What about you three give us a tour of the garden? I would like to see all your favorite spots. Does that sound like a plan?"
"Bi-bi!" Bidoof happily makes his way to the door, and Lotad and a hesitant Skarmory follow her. I take Riolu's paw and follow behind them. Hopefully, all will work out now.
~*~
The garden truly is a special place. There's something for every kind of pokemon — a small patch of ice in the corner for pokemon who want to cool down after playing, a sandy part for pokemon to sunbathe in. A small pool is surrounded by low grass hills, and trees and bushes provide cover from the sun that shines down from between the walls of the facility. Patches of flowers are scattered across the grass, and I think I even saw some holes that were no doubt dug out by pokemon to create makeshift tunnels underground.
And really all sorts of pokemon live here. When Bidoof showed me her favorite hiding place between a circle of small, blue berrie bushes, I spotted an Aromatisse and a Goomy hiding there as well. When Lotad showed me how he liked to drift in the pool and play with the other water types, I saw a Helioptile just off the side recharching in the sun, while a Ledian quietly zoomed by. The garden was almost filled to the brim with different kinds of pokemon, but it seemed that everyone had found their own little places and spots. It warmed my heart to see it.
During the tour outside, Riolu had stood back, leaning next to the glass door we entered from with her arms crossed. Skarmory had stayed back as well, but at the other side of the door, still visibly avoiding getting too close to any of us. Secretly, I hoped that they would be able to gain an understanding during their quiet brooding, so I let them to themselves.
Besides, I had already enough to do just following the increasingly enthusiastic Lotad and Bidoof around. Halfway through our walk through the garden, a caregiver brought Eevee to the garden and, instantly, a friendship bloomed between them and the adoption pokemon. From that moment on, I let myself fall down in the grass and told them to go on playing. I needed a break.
~*~
Now, I sluggishly blink my eyes open as I feel a soft prodding against my cheek. "Wha-" I yawn. My eyes adjust to the sunlight and begin to focus. Riolu is kneeling beside me, poking my cheek and softly calling my name.
"Rio... Rio."
I wipe away some drool and lift myself from the ground with one arm. "I'm awake, I'm awake."
Riolu sits back on her knees. "Riolu-ri, Rio."
"I know, I know," I say, "but I was too comfortable to resist it." I rub my eyes and look around. I'm still in the garden of the Foster Island's adoption facility, but... there are no pokemon anywhere nearby.
A low growl startles me. I look to my left, where Skarmory is standing. He's looking straight at me, but I can't figure out what his expression means. Is he mad? Irritated?
"Ah, you're awake." The door to the garden opens and Ellisa steps inside. She smiles knowingly. "I was just about to announce that your time is up for today, since we have another appointment in half an hour. I have to say though... this has been the most unusual getting-to-know session I have seen in a while."
I feel heat rise to my cheeks. I hastily push myself from the ground and wipe away some grass blades from my clothes and hair. "I'm so sorry!" I exclaim, "I hadn't meant to fall asleep! I'm sorry I scared everyone away..." I look around. Was that a Pachirisu I saw ducking behind a bush? Oh no, I really scared them...
Ellisa laughs.
...Huh?
"Oh, quite on the contrary," Ellisa assures me, "the pokemon were all so curious to come closer. Most of them have never seen a human so unguarded around them before. When some of them began to climb on top of you however... Skarmory and Riolu stepped in and chased them away. Together, might I add." A glint in her eye. "They make quite the team."
Oh.
I look at Riolu, then Skarmory. Skarmory averts his gaze. I still smile at him. "Well, thank you then. For saving me," I say.
Skarmory grunts quietly.
"Lu-rio," Riolu adds. She sounds approving, almost proud.
Guess the choice is already made for one of us.
"And... where is Eevee?" I turn back to Ellisa, who nods at a collection of trees just off the side. I carefully approach the trees and when I hold away a couple of branches, I am pleasantly surprised. There, right between the trees, are Lotad, Eevee and Bidoof, quietly nibbling on some red berries. The leafs russle as I move them and Eevee looks up from her meal at the sound.
"Eievui!" They bounce from their spot, right into my arms. I almost drop them, but quickly adjust.
"Hi there. I see you entertained yourself just fine?"
"Eievui-vui!"
"I'm glad."
I look at Lotad and Bidoof. "And I'm sorry, but Ellisa told me my time's up for now. I hope you can forgive me for falling asleep when we had only so little time to get to know each other."
"Tad."
"Bidoof."
They both nod and follow me from inbetween the trees back to where Ellisa, Riolu and Skarmory are waiting for us. I bring Eevee along in my arms.
"In some adoption cases, I advice the trainers to come back for a second time, either when they're still not sure who to choose or if I think the pokemon haven't accepted them yet," Ellisa says.
I nod, already planning another date in my mind I could get free to come over once more.
"...However," Ellisa says and I look up in surprise, "I would say that in this instance a second appointment is not really necessary, is it?" She looks at the adoption pokemon. "I saw the way they interacted with you and I must say they haven't been this expressive and... happy in a while. I am sure any of them would be ecstatic if you were to adopt them."
My mouth is agape, I know it, but I can't help it. All three of them... like me? I let my eyes drift over them and they all look back with the pokemon-equivalent of smiles.
The choice had been hard, but even I cannot deny that I already feel which of them would fit my little family the best. Even if I was not awake to experience it, I know it when I look at them. I know it when I look at Riolu.
They would be the perfect fit.
I slowly breathe in through my nose, out of my mouth. This is it.
"I... I think you're right," I say carefully, paying attention to each of the adoption pokemon responses. Bidoof stares at me with sparkling eyes, Lotad's flower spreads even wider open and even Skarmory chances a glance at me, but quickly looks the other way.
Ellisa nods. "Then please, say your choice and be sure to give your goodbyes to the others. I will be waiting for you inside." Ellisa then turns around and leaves me along with my pokemon and the others. I sigh and crouch in front of the three pokemon anxiously awaiting my words.
"You would all be amazing fits to my team, I can feel that. And this wasn't an easy choice, so please, know that whatever I choose here, some trainer will come by that will pick you too, alright? No feeling down about it, because your time will come. I know it." I swallow before I continue. "...but I think I have chosen already."
I shift a little to look at each of them, my eyes landing and staying on the last of the three, who, for the first time this afternoon, actually looks back.
"I hope I can earn your trust, Skarmory, because you already have mine. Will you accept becoming a part of my team?"
I see the exact moment the implications of the words settle in, because small beads start the form at the corners of Skarmory's eyes. He closes them, then opens them and says, "Skar-skarmory." It sounds unsure, but hopeful.
"I take that as a yes." I smile at him. "I think you will be a perfect fit. Thank you for accepting my offer."
I look at the other two. "You are wonderful, the both of you. As I said, your moment will come, I am sure of it. Please stay safe here untill that time comes, alright?"
"Tad-tad."
"Bi-bi."
I nod at them. "May we meet again then. Goodbye for now." I give one last pat on each of their heads and turn around, heading back inside with Eevee in my arms, Riolu and Skarmory right behind me. It already feels right. It's as if this formation is how it was always supposed to be.
My smile widens.
Ellisa meets me and my pokemon in the lobby. Her eyes turn soft at the sight of Skarmory flanking on my left and Riolu on my right.
"A great choice. Do you believe me now, Skarmory? I always told you someone would see past your scars."
Ellisa leads me and my pokemon to her office and helps me in arranging the adoption. I first have to catch Skarmory to register him to my trainer ID, so Ellisa hands me a great ball. I try to refuse and use one of my own normal balls, but she insists that this comes with every adoption on Foster Island.
As long as Riolu doesn't get jealous that Skarmory gets a great ball, alright then.
I hold the ball in front of me and Skarmory steps formard and touches the button with the tip of his wing. A light engulfes him and shake, shake, shake, I caught him! I quickly release him again so he can watch me sign all the documents and papers in order to make the rest of the adoption official. Because Ellisa needs to explain more than one of the documents to me in detail, my pokemon quickly lose interest and Eevee jumps from my lap to join Riolu and Skarmory in a simple ball game on the other side of the office. I try not to be distracted too much, but... let's just say Ellisa has to explain some forms at least twice before I get it.
When all that is done, Ellisa and I set a date for Skarmory's six-month check-up and yearly physicals. Just before our meeting will come to an end, Ellisa gives me a large list of care tips in how to make sure Skarmory will be alright. It's long, but I know I'll need it. I take multiple pictures of the list, fold it and stuff it into my backpack.
After finishing up the lasts formalities, finally, Ellisa stands from behind her desk and extends her hand to me.
"I hope you and Skarmory will grow closer and closer and become the best of partners!"
I smile at her and then at Skarmory, who briefly stops to look at me too before he kicks the ball to Eevee. There is an understanding there. A promise.
"I think we will," I say, "I'll make sure of it."
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messedupessy · 3 years
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Ok so, got a ask from @matronofthevoid for the ask thingie I am doing, where she asked what my skeleton boys would be dressed up for Halloween, and I got hella lot of boys and this is hella long so decided to make a separate post with it yes xD 
I am skipping the seafell and seaswapfell bros, also the genderbent versions of them seaswap boys aka Bon and Nessie, as I srsly dunno what they would be pft, but let’s see...
Swap bros: Stretch I can’t say as that will be spoilers for the Halloween pic I got pft, but his bro Berry totally a sexy fireman just because he can, he gotta be matching his bro because that’s the way they roll.
UT bros: know this has been done before but Sans is dressed in a suit with a note stuck onto his chest with the word apology on it, yes he is a formal apology and Puffy if you read this yes this is inspired by your pic from ages ago. Papyrus is dressed up as Mettaton obviously, his box form that is, which he has worked weeks on perfecting! He technically could had just went with his old armor since that was a old costume he made before reaching the surface, but since he worn it so much it was time for a change, and what better than his favourite sexy rectangle?
Fell bros: Edge, if he isn’t too busy, which he might be unless someone drags him away from his work, is dressed up as Gomez Addams, there is no other costume he could possibly wear. Red is a lazy helicopter tomato who don’t really do the whole dressing up shit, so he will just put a pair of devils horns on his head and call it a day.  
SF bros: Scratch has worked like a mad lad on his costume, it is all made from... well scratch, and he has worked on it for literal weeks, a fancy af gothic vampire with a fluffy skirt, lace, buttons, ribbons, so many details, got like claw gauntlets and everything, it looks like some sort of cosplay with how detailed it is but it’s just a costume and he is very proud of it. Rus is dressed up as a literal trashbag, he just got a stinky old paper bag from the trash and poked some holes in it, put it over his head like the trash he is. 
Seaswap bros: Pass is a ninja because it is ironic as fuck, because Pirates VS Ninjas baby. Boney is dressed as the painting “the girl with a pearl earring”, with his own little twist to the rest of the outfit since you can only see the top half of her body. 
3in1Tale aka G bros: you would think Fraktur would dress up as Dr. Frankenstein since he is a mad scientist just like him, but no, Dr. Frankenstein is a sniveling little piss baby, the creature on the other hand, now that’s where the good stuff is, so yes he is dressed up as “Frankensteins monster”, though mixed with a scientist bc he can’t let go off his mad scientist aesthetic. Gans is dressed like that meme the “how do you do fellow kids” one, not on purpose though he was aiming for a skater because skating is cool, it’s hip, sadly he can’t skate to save his life.
SF KH/Purple bros: Mauve is too busy been aggressive and feral to dress up, dressing up in costumes and such things are beneath him. Cash dresses up as a drug dealer.... which he already is, he is technically not dressing up at all he is genuinely just been himself but “pretending” to be selling drugs, that might be real, is probably real, by opening his hoodie and be all “wanna buy some drugs?”. Their underground to start with isn’t much up to celebrating these sort of occasions.  
MessedUpTale bros: Pop is dressed up as a proper knight, using one of his old armours he used to use back before he ended up underground several hundreds of years ago. Tycoon or just Ty for short, well he is a king so he just switches out his crown for a burger king crown, at first at least, with the help of Pop and some of their friends they end up changing his costume into a literal grandpa, with a beard and everything, because he likes to joke that he is one, so why not dress up as one.  
Underlöst bros: Velvet is dressed up as Lady Gaga from the BLACKPINK music video Sour Candy, the black one with straps and like buckles, with a blonde wig and everything, as BLACKPINK is his fave band and he loves Lady Gaga. Bin couldn’t be bothered to put any sort of effort into any sort of costume, so Velvet had to do it for him, so he dresses him up as a wizard, but a sexy one, sort of, Bin is not really working it like Velvet had hoped but it will do.  
Easeswap bros: Mello is dressed as a cute and very comfy bat, but it’s also like sexy it’s like kinda like a massive hoodie rather that gets cut off at the knees, kinda like a hoodie dress, with bat hears and wings as the hoodie arms, he is very cozy in it. Dex is dressed as a werewolf, as it was the best and simplest thing he could get his hands on, but also like sexy. 
Fellswap Gold bros: Vin sadly did not have time to dress up or even celebrating Halloween whatsoever, his job is extremely demanding and he rarely got any free time, but if he had gotten a chance he would had dressed up as a old time gentleman. Mocha is a bit too socially inept and anxious to go out and celebrate, but his fave online multiplayer game, he dressed his character up as a punkish pumpkin man. 
Easefell bros: Thyme procrastinated af on his costume, so he ended up having to buy something simple to dress up as, and ended up as Raphael from TMNT, it’s kinda shitty and bad quality but it works. Pepper haven’t really gotten a chance to dress up properly before, yes he have once or twice dressed up for parties when he was more in his teen years but they used to be like not that good and... very slutty. He was tempted to just go with a pair of bunny ears and call it a day as he don’t have time for this, but ends up going with something more proper anyway, and dresses up as Sandy from Grease, the black outfit she wears at the end. 
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megabadbunny · 4 years
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Cosmic Love and Monsters (4/?)
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"Now don’t you do that,” he says, suddenly stern and very south-London, pouting at Rose in mock admonishment. “Don’t you do that Very Bad Thing. You’ve got to listen to me, I’m the Doctor! I’m a poncy self-righteous twat with my head buried so far up my cobweb-filled arse it’s been centuries since it last saw the light of day!" (sfw version on ff.net; full tags and info on ao3) Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4
***
Chapter Four: Fear Him
Cold pain awake hurt
Why
Doctor—
Rose wakes with a gasp, flinching at the ache that flares dully through her head. Icy water drips down her face in rivulets, and she wipes the great fat droplets out of her eyes, gingerly pushing herself up to a sitting position on the couch—
Wait. The couch…?
Confusion mounting with every passing moment, Rose scans the room around her, discerning what little she can in the darkness; it’s that castle-place, still, from the looks of it. Stone meets her eyes at every turn, drapes stretching gently from column-to-column, swaying lazily in the night air, and it’s quiet in here, oh-so-quiet. The softness beneath her legs must surely be plush cushions and yes, the thing behind her is definitely the back of a couch.
She’s in a fancy dress. In a castle. Recovering from a fainting-spell on a fainting-couch. The only way it would be cheesier, she thinks, is if she were chained to a set of train tracks instead.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” drawls a voice somewhere out of the darkness, and Rose jumps. “Sleep well?”
Rose glares at the Doctor—no, not the Doctor, the man from before, that terrible man, pretending to be the Doctor, but how did he have all of the Doctor’s memories, how did he know so much?—and he steps out of the shadows, holding a crystal goblet in one gloved hand. Water drips down the goblet’s sides, splatting loudly onto the floor and the man’s shoes, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His attention is focused solely on Rose. He watches her, his face blank, impassive, eyes blinking just a little too slowly in the dim light, like a lizard. Like a snake.
The Master, Rose remembers, and she shivers.
“Hullo? Master to Rose,” the Master says, waving a hand. “I asked you a question. Do you care to answer?”
“Not really,” Rose replies.
The Master chuckles. “Rude, but then you never were a morning person, were you?”
“How do you know that?”
“Oh, I’ve got my ways.” Dipping his gloved fingers into the goblet, the Master draws out a palmful of water and flicks it into Rose’s face. She forces herself not to flinch at the icy-cold deluge. “You’ll find that out soon enough.”
For a half-second, Rose considers making a run for it (or better yet, making a run at him), but she can just see the top of the sonic screwdriver sticking out of his jacket-pocket, and the memory of the pain it caused is still fresh, still raw. Unthinking, she almost raises her hand to the collar sitting heavy on her neck, until she catches the Master’s eyes, watching her patiently, almost gleefully. 
Do it, he seems to be saying. Do something stupid. I dare you.
Rose’s hand falls to her side and clenches stubbornly in her skirts instead.
“Who are you?” she asks sharply, shaking water out of her eyes. “Not your name,” she snaps before he has a chance to reply. “I already know that. I want to know who you really are, and why you’re really imprisoned here, and why you pretended to be the Doctor.”
The Master cocks his head to one side, inquisitive. “Well, aren’t you a curious little kitten?” he laughs.
“You’ve got two hearts, so you must be a Time Lord too, right?” asks Rose, almost speaking to herself, more than him. “But the Doctor said he was the only one left, after the War. How’d you survive?”
“Careful now, darling,” he replies. “You know what they say about cats and curiosity.”
“Enough bullshit. Cut to the chase.”
Tutting in disapproval, the Master shakes his head. “My my my,” he sighs. “What a nasty little mouth you’ve got on you. Surely you’d never say such a thing in front of your precious Doctor. You must know he doesn’t approve of such crude language.”
“We could always call him up and find out for sure.”
The Master barks out a laugh. “That isn’t possible for a variety of reasons, I’m afraid—numero uno being that your Doctor’s more than a little bit dead.”
Suddenly all the hurt in Rose’s body feels very far away. A vision of a gurney and a still hand floods her memory; she fights to keep her face calm and composed as panic surges in her chest, strangling her. A strange buzzing sound fills her ears like a nest of angry-buzzing wasps.
She is very, very cold.
Rose forces herself not to shiver. “I don’t believe you,” she says calmly.
The Master grins a Jack-o-Lantern’s smile. “You should.”
“No,” Rose replies with a sharp shake of her head. “If he was dead, you would said he didn’t approve. You said he doesn’t.”
“Well, I never!” says the Master gleefully. “Turns out you’ve got some cognitive capacity, after all! What a delightful surprise. Though to be fair, the truth was going to come up sooner or later, anyway. Only a matter of time.”
“So he is alive,” Rose says, relief washing over her.
The Master nods. “For the moment.”
Allowing her eyes to shutter closed, Rose takes just the briefest of moments to thank her lucky stars back home, all the ones that haven’t disappeared yet. “How do you know so much about him, anyway?” she asks. “How did you know who I was, back at the tournament? Just how much do you know?”
Humming thoughtfully, the Master considers for a moment, fingers tapping idly against the cup in his hands. “Nah,” he says, “I’m much more interested in talking about you, pet. Now tell me—” and here he plonks down on the couch next to Rose, ignoring how she shifts as far away from him as she can, “—just what will it take to get you to cooperate?”
“With what?”
“Well, with me, naturally.”
Rose eyes him warily. “Why? What do you want?”
“Just a smidge of your help.” The Master tilts his goblet this way and that, watching the motion of the water inside, as if it’s all terribly fascinating. “Well, that, and a decent cappuccino, but first things first.”
“I’m not helping you off this planet.”
“Nor could you,” the Master replies. “If I haven’t figured out a way off, then you certainly can’t, though it’s cute you thought that was a possibility. No; your assistance will be of a different nature,” he continues thoughtfully. “Something more along the lines of bait and switch, lure and hook, catch and release. Without the release.”
He shoots a sly smile her way. “Something to do with our mutual friend. Something a lot more personal, if you know what I mean.”
Rose shakes her head in confusion, running over his words in her mind. Then it dawns on her. 
“You want to use me,” she realizes aloud, “to get the Doctor here. To steal the TARDIS.” 
“Bingo!” shouts the Master in delight, clapping his hands together heedless of the water that sloshes from his cup. “Right in one.”
Rose stares at him. “You’ve got to be joking.”
“Oh, I very much am not,” the Master says pleasantly. “I can’t get off this planet, but you know what can? A TARDIS. And guess who’s got one of those, along with buckets and buckets of horrendously boring and otherwise useless sentimentalism for a certain blonde and insignificant squalling little beastie?”
“No. No way.”
“Yes. Yes way,” says the Master. “And in another way, really, I suppose I should be thanking you right now. My other plan was to modify your little hopper, use that to get off this rock and track the Doctor down. But thanks to your Stone Age technology and your oh-so-elegant solution of stamping the thing to smithereens, now, we can jump straight to the end goal. No more wasting time looking for him—we’ll bring him straight to us!”
“I’m not gonna help you trap the Doctor,” Rose says loudly.
“Oh, come on. You barely know me—certainly not well enough to know all the reasons why you shouldn’t help me.” The Master pauses, thinking, as he wipes one damp glove on Rose’s skirt. “Granted, there are many, but there’s no reason for you to be so stubborn about it. So why don’t you just cooperate, like a good little girl?”
A harsh laugh. “How about you take this collar off me first?”
“How about you stop wasting my time?”
“Remove the collar or you get nothing.”
“Comply or I’ll kill you.”
“Good luck getting help from my corpse.”
The Master’s eyes flash and for a second Rose is so, so certain he’ll shift, fast as a blink, turning his sonic on her collar again or maybe even ripping it off so he can wrap his hands round her throat, fingers squeeze-squeeze-squeezing the life out of her, but instead he just grins.
That’s…unsettling.
“How about,” the Master muses, pretending to consider, “you give me what I want, or I kill all of your little friends? Hm? The ones you were helping out in the tournament. How about that?”
Rose doesn’t flinch. “They’re all gonna die in the tournament anyway.”
“Ooh, that’s cold!” laughs the Master. “I mean, you’re not wrong, but still. Cold.” 
He taps his chin thoughtfully with the goblet. “I could still kill you, you know. That option is very much still on the table. And what would your Doctor say about that?”
“He’d understand,” Rose replies firmly.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” says the Master, and if Rose didn’t know any better, she’d be tempted to label his tone soft. “But then again, maybe you’re right. So damned noble, the both of you. It’s such a nuisance, really.”
With a sigh, the Master sidles up next to Rose, as if they’re just two friends having a casual chat, mates gossiping about the latest celebrity news or office scandal. It’s a very strange contrast to the collar sitting heavy and cold on Rose’s skin.
“Don’t suppose there’s still any hope of convincing you I’m the Doctor?” the Master asks cheerfully.
“Don’t suppose there is. Didn’t work out the first time you tried.”
“And I tell you, it’s a damn shame, Rose. Just a real damn shame,” says the Master, shaking his head. “What a waste of a performance! I had so much more material. Here, look: Now don’t you do that,” he says, suddenly stern and very south-London, pouting at Rose in mock admonishment. “Don’t you do that Very Bad Thing. You’ve got to listen to me, I’m the Doctor! I’m a poncy self-righteous twat with my head buried so far up my cobweb-filled arse it’s been centuries since it last saw the light of day!”
He bumps Rose’s shoulder with his and the gesture is so reminiscent of the Doctor that Rose has to fight not to dry-heave. “Not too shabby, eh?”
“Positively Oscar-worthy,” Rose replies through gritted teeth.
“Thanks, I thought as much,” says the Master, beaming. “Now, back to my earlier question—because I won’t let up until I get the answer I want, see, so you might as well comply now, before I get bored with you. And as the people on this fair planet can attest, you won’t like me when I’m bored. So what’ll it be, love? Your life, or your Doctor?”
Rose doesn’t reply, just stares stonily ahead.
“Oh, Rose Tyler,” the Master says, heaving a disappointed sigh after several long moments tick by in silence. “Rose, Rose, Rose. A rose by any other name—”
“God, can we get on with the killing already?” Rose groans. “Cos honestly, I’d rather die than have yet another idiot feeding me that stupid—”
He aims the sonic at her collar and pain surges through her body with a nasty shock. Spasming backward, Rose’s head cracks against the wall behind her with a sickening thwack that echoes through the room while stars explode behind her eyelids. Copper-taste floods her mouth as blood wells up from where she bit the inside of her cheek. Her eyes start to water as the shock fades, before the pain sets back in, but it’s a short head start; the pain at the back of her head blossoms through quickly, and hard.
A sound of glass shattering on the tiles and suddenly a set of leatherclad fingers clenches her chin in a steely grip, wrenching her face sideways and forcing her to look the Master in the eyes. Despite herself, Rose gasps at the sudden closeness, the way the Master’s pupils dilate until his irises are nothing but a pool of lightless black.
“Surely by now, you’ve realized that behind this pretty face, I’m a monster,” the Master says, his voice chillingly pleasant for all that his smile is a thin-stretched grimace. “And monsters do bad, bad things to little girls.”
A chill runs down Rose’s spine and brings a violent shudder with it but Rose doesn’t reply and she doesn’t look away, just glares at him with all the hate she can muster, her mouth clenched tight against the swelling blood. You’re not the only monster in this room, she wants to say, but judging by the way he’s clenching the sonic, tightening until the leather squeaks against the casing, more and more as her silence stretches on—oh, leaving him hanging in the quiet is so much better.
“I can break you,” the Master breathes, chest heaving beneath the confines of his tailored suit. “I can break you, and I will, and it will be so, so very easy. And how do you think your beloved Doctor will react to that, hm? What do you think it will do to him, just how much will it tear him up inside, to see the bloody, mangled, twisted husk of a broken and empty thing that used to be the woman he loves?”
Rose spits in his face.
With a dark chuckle, the Master thumbs at the blood and spittle where it landed on the corner of his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste the traces left behind. “Iron-deficient,” he says. “You really should consider a daily supplement, sweetheart.”
He pushes off the couch and strides away into the shadows, crystal shards from his dropped goblet crunching beneath his heel. The click of a handle and splinter of light in the semi-darkness let Rose know that he has reached the door.
“Oh, don’t worry, darling; I shan’t be gone too long,” the Master says, pausing long enough to flash Rose a winning smile. “Wouldn’t want you to get lonely. Only be warned: the rest of our conversations might not be so pleasant. Next time you don’t give me what I want? Somebody dies, and they die nasty.”
“My condolences to your widow,” Rose shoots back.
Laughing gaily, as if Rose just told the most charming after-dinner joke, the Master leaves, the door clicking quietly shut behind him, locking afterward. Darkness and blessed silence filter back in, and Rose relaxes just the littlest bit, slumping back against the couch, wincing when her head touches the wall behind her. She doesn’t feel the telltale warmth of blood matting her hair, but she’s definitely bruised back there, probably going to swell, certainly going to hurt for the next few days.
Doesn’t matter. She’ll be fine; she’s had far worse. It won’t stop her from trying to escape. And it certainly won’t change her mind about protecting the Doctor. It doesn’t matter how badly she wants to see him, doesn’t matter how much the longing hurts even worse than the pain splitting the back of her skull. She will not do anything to compromise him. She’ll die first.
It’s what he’d do for her. He’d understand.
He will understand.
Willing her muscles to unwind, Rose lets out a long-trapped sigh, surrendering to the exhaustion that washes over her.
She sleeps.
***
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morethanaprincess-a · 4 years
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@madamhatter​ asked:  🔵 Blue - Have you cosplayed as your muse? / :3c
Munday (accepting!)
I am pretty sure that Soar knows the answer to this, but since I haven’t talked about it in a little while...yes! I have cosplayed and still cosplay as my muse. Because this is a photo-heavy response, everything will go under a cut.
I currently have two of Sonia’s costumes and am working on a third. Cosplay, besides RP and fashion, is my biggest hobby. With COVID and me working to get more fit and healthy this year (which is, incidentally, why I’m not writing as many posts per day. I’m working out a lot!), I don’t have new photos. However, I plan to rectify this when quarantine restrictions are lifted in my area of the world and conventions start up again. I love cosplaying Sonia and meeting other Danganronpa cosplayers and fans!
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So, here’s the undisputed favorite of my Sonia costumes. My version of her princess gown is a custom-made piece made of champagne bridal satin, champagne lace overlays, and champagne organza with coordinating tulle and organza underskirts. The gown itself is actually three parts: a boned bodice that laces up the back with a modesty panel, the top skirt layers, and the full ballgown skirt with lace hem. I also wear a steel-boned corset and a hoopskirt (6 or 9 hoops, I forget) underneath.
When I wanted to cosplay Sonia’s gown, my biggest issues were color, appropriate shape (no limp skirts or bodices), and using texture to embellish what’s usually a plain satin gown. The person who made this for me started with an 1850s or 1860s gown pattern and embellished considerably, and we went through several ideas of lace type and placement before the final result. The skirt layers also have organza underneath the satin for additional texture (and there might be some horsehair in there as well, haven’t looked in awhile!). The wig has since been upgraded with something straighter (but still the same color), and all of the jewelry are replica pieces from real life or TV incarnations of the British Royal Family. The necklace is a replica from The Tudors, the earrings are replicas of a pair owned by the Duchess of Cambridge, and the tiara is a replica of one of Queen Victoria’s (I think? I think it’s also still in use, too). 
It needs a little bit of repairs (and I need to fit back into it). The lace hem is a magnet for collecting dirt on convention floors and there’s a lining seam in the bodice that’s starting to come undone, but those can be easily mended. I keep telling myself that I want to do a coordinating bag (and not just the gold leather purse I usually wear with this), perhaps a clutch embellished with Swarovski crystals in the shape of Monokuma. I’ve worked with crystals for cosplay before, but never a design, and I never seem to have the patience for it after the costume I mostly used them for. I also want to get another layer of petticoats to wear underneath, to hide some of the hoop lines.
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Bonus shot of the bodice! I need to wear my necklace a bit shorter so the faux ruby and pearls are visible. I often don’t do contacts either due to irritation, but I’ll need to wear them for a future costume (keep reading!).
I’ve also done Sonia’s green uniform as well, though I’m looking to upgrade some pieces with a version I prefer much more. I don’t have many good pictures of this save for the first time I wore it, when I put my hairbow on the wrong side. Ouch.
But, I’m hoping to upgrade my dress and blouse, and finally add some rhinestone bling to my hairbow. I’m not fond of the stockings usually sold with these so I wear my own, which are a lot more durable to convention wear and tear. I also have a Danganronpa ita bag I wear with this outfit as well (which just keeps growing and getting more ita. I’m tempted to split the charms up onto two bags at this point. Maybe I’ll share the ita disaster next Munday?)
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Finally, I’m working on getting Sonia’s despair gown together! I have a sketch and a commissioner for it, but COVID threw off the schedule so I’m working to get that back on track. It’ll be cream, red, and pink with lots of red roses, and I’m working to get a custom-styled wig for it as well. I haven’t decided if I want to do red LED lights (as I’ve seen other Sonias do), but I do want to try for the red contacts. I absolutely hate wearing contacts for cosplay but for despair, I feel like I have to. I’m optimistic to debut this on Halloween weekend but if not, it’ll probably be next spring when convention season rolls around again. I wish I had some other despairs to coordinate with!
Besides that, I’m looking to do more historical inspired costumes and am tempted to do a gown or two in Sonia’s color scheme. Not an exact replica cosplay, per se, but at least something Sonia inspired.
I love my muse too much.
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themagicalreads · 4 years
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The Missing Piece (Prompt)
I swear I tried thinking up a whole lot of different ideas for this prompt to avoid writing in the perspective of a puzzle but, for the LIFE OF ME, my brain could NOT stop finding its way back to this. And I struggled a bit with the writing, as you miiiight be able to tell? Hahaha. Still, I do hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading. <3
~
Every day, the void became smaller, but it was always far too great to travel beyond. Jack stood leaning against his blue chevy impala, tossing pennies in the air in wait for a girl that would never come. He hadn't been able to keep his eyes off her since she'd started working at the Moonlight Drive-In's food joint. They hadn't always served food here—the building had only been built something but a few months ago, and Jack had yet to try out the snacks. He would have if he'd been able to walk over there but, for now, all he could do was observe from afar.
Her hair was bobbed, wavy and brown as bark. Just like the other girls, she wore a white-aproned purple skirt that fell just above her knees, and a purple-collared blouse. But what had first caught his eye was her smile, bright as the stars above, and genuine as a puppy's, obvious even from this far out. She was the most beautiful girl he'd yet to lay eyes on.
If it wasn't for the void, he'd have been over there in a jiffy. He'd have asked her to watch the latest flick with him on his hood, followed right up by the meteor shower. Surely she'd never caught well from behind that counter. A familiar clench in his chest came at the mere thought of her. Jack wanted more of her than the guy's tales of back seat bingo. He wanted to know her from the inside out, because he knew he'd love everything about her. The feeling in his gut told him that much.
The purity of her heart radiated right through the pitch black nothingness of the universe.
A group of giggling ankle biters swarmed past Jack, breaking him away from his admiring. "Hey, Jack!" Jamie said, running over to him. "Wanna play a game of hide and seek?"
Jack smiled warmly at the kid. "Not right now, Jamie. But I'll catch you later," he added when Jamie drooped with disappointment. "I got a new version of the game planned out that I think you'll like, too." And, just like that, his front-toothless smile slid right back on.
"Yay!" He exclaimed, about to run back off. He turned back before he could get too far. "Got some chalk for hopscotch?"
"I'll have to check the stocks," Jack answered, even though he knew there'd be a fresh stick in the glovebox. It was always there, fresh as a daisy. Jack sauntered over to the passenger's side of the car and poked his slender arm through the rolled window. Jamie ran off with a joyful yelp as soon as he handed it over to him. When he was lost in the sea of people and cars, Jack looked up at the sky just in time to see a sliver of darkness mold into soft, navy blue.
Every day, the void became smaller, piece by tiny little piece.
Every day, the Moonlight Drive-In healed itself from the single worldly rip until, one day, it didn't.
"Hey there, Daddy-o." A voice he'd never heard before said on the ninth day of nothingness. Jack glanced to the side to see a girl with stark white hair and eyes as blue as his leaning against his chevy."What's cookin,' good-lookin'?"
Jack glanced back at the sliver in the void, where the girl was serving a couple of movie-goers. "Nothing extraordinary." He knew it was impolite to not ask what was up with her, but Jack wasn't in the mood for flirting. He scanned the area casually for Jamie and his friends—they hadn't stopped by tonight, which made Jack wonder what shenanigans they were up to this evening. Worse yet, did they decide they no longer wanted him around?
The bleached-blonde bumped her shoulder against Jacks. When he looked at her, he saw her eyeing him and the Sliver. "Can't help but notice you been castin' an eyeball over at that brunette."
Jack jerked back. "Don't know what you mean."
Bleached-blonde groaned, rolling her eyes at Jack. "Oh, cool it. Don't play dumb with me, Jack. She's pretty."
Jack stilled. "How—?"
Bleached-blonde cocked her head to some invisible thing in the distance. "The kid told me. James, right? But you call 'im Jamie."
Jack lifted his brows. "You seem to know a whole lot."
"That's what happens when you go out and talk to people," Bleached-blonde laughed. "I'm Elsa." She held out a hand, which Jack hesitantly shook. She didn't stop staring even after they let go. "Would you believe me if I told you I met her before?"
Jack frowned at the thought. "Impossible."
Elsa looked away momentarily, shoulders drooping as she pouted. "Sweet girl. Not her type."
"Me?"
"Me. But that's beside the point. The point is I can get you over there."
Jack couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, yeah? How?" He went quiet as soon as he noticed what she was looking at.
The sliver in the void.
"You can't be serious."
Elsa smiled. "I'm the most serious girl you'll ever meet."
"That's a death's trap!" Jack exclaimed.
"Only if you let the darkness pull you in. Which—little survival tip—don't let it do that. I made that mistake once, and—" She shivered, "One of the worst things you'll ever experience. Unexplainable, to say the least."
Jack looked back at the Sliver, at the wisps of hungry black tendrils pressing against the thin path. It hadn't gotten wider in what felt like forever—would it ever go away, or were they destined to live like this forever? He looked up at the girl, then, her bright smile apparent even from this far away. It couldn't be a coincidence, his feelings for her. Jack knew he wasn't the type for love at first sight—especially when it came to girls he hadn't even met. But he couldn't ignore the pull trying to yank him toward her.
He looked up at the moon, almost not visible in the sky, and then he decisively turned back to Elsa. "Let me write a note to Jamie."
"Good choice." Elsa grinned. "Seeing you sulkin' every day was makin' everyone a bit sad. Come on, Daddy-o."
After scratching a note down and jamming it in the window with the chalk Jamie still hadn't come to fetch, Jack followed Elsa to the Sliver. She leaned in close to him as soon as their feet stopped moving.
"The thing about the Sliver is, most people try to run straight across to get in and out as soon as possible. But the trick is going slow. See, fella, it's a lot darker than it looks in there—you won't be able to see a thing but the moon when you're inside, so focus on walkin' a straight line, kay?"
Jack stared at her. "You're not coming?"
Elsa almost seemed insulted at the mere thought of that. "'Course I am. I'm goin' first, silly." She smiled mischievously. "Got my own pie face to visit. What? You didn't actually think I'd do all this just for you, did ya?"
Jack shrugged. "Can't blame a fella for thinking a stranger would do something out of the coldness of their hearts for em'."
"Ha!" Elsa moved forward, glancing at the girl through the Sliver. "And your heart's awfully warm for someone named Frost. Hers is Rapunzel, by the way."
"Ra-what?"
"Rapunzel."
Jack blinked. "What's that?"
"The name of the girl you're in love with, knuckle head."
"I'm not—"
"Oh, please," Elsa rolled her eyes again, stepping into the darkness. Her voice was nearly completely muffled now as she yelled out. "See you on the other side!"
A chill raked over Jack. He'd had a feeling about today—a good one. He hadn't been sure what it was about, exactly, and he still wasn't. Surely it wasn't this. Not this uncomfortable knot in his stomach he couldn't manage to untie.
It was a strange thing, feeling as if the world around him was pulling him back into place and tugging him forward simultaneously.
With that, Jack closed his eyes and stepped into the abyss. The first thing he noticed was how he didn't hear a loud nothingness like he thought he would; the sound of whistling wind drowned the world out just as much as the darkness did. The second thing was the sense of levitating. Though he could feel the soft ground under his feet, he could also feel how, a few inches on each side of his feet, it all disappeared, devoured by the universe, awaiting creation.
It was like holding a piece of information on his tongue; Jack was positive he knew what lay beyond, but he couldn't remember no matter how much he thought of it. Don't let it pull you in, Elsa had told him. But he couldn't help it. The thoughts of beyond devoured him whole, blowing him up with a curiosity he never had the chance to release.
Desperate, Jack opened his eyes, only to find himself lost and terrified. The moon. He looked up at what had to be the sky, finding the bright orb instantly. He'd only barely seen it through the Sliver before, so high in the sky it was clouded. I swelled a balloon of hope inside of him, spurring him on one more step, then another.
Everything was going splendid, given the circumstances, until he looked down for Rapunzel, not remembering he could no longer see anything but pitch black. A wrenching feeling warped inside of him. He swung his gaze back up, disoriented, and searched desperately for the moon, only to find it wasn't where it had just been. Jack stopped hard in his track, suffocation threatening to overtake him. The void wanted him badly. The tickling wisps wrapping themselves around his limbs over and over proved that right. And then there was the voice, so luring he was almost tempted to follow it without thought.
"Jack?"
"Jack, come to me!"
"Follow my voice."
Jack fell to his hands and knees and gripped the edges of the path. Slowly, he moved forward, noticing how the voice was become louder and louder with every step. As long as he followed the road, he'd emerge on one side of the void or the other. Jack carefully trekked on until something clamped hard on his right hand. A yell tore through him, the pinch on his fingers as he tried and failed to yank them free, a growingly unbearable pain. Without thinking, he completely let go of the road so he could tug his hand free. He knew it was already too late—it would be crushed beyond measure now. When he looked up in desperation, Jack's eyes met with the moon again, and he yelled. Over and over until the darkness and the pain finally completely disappeared. He lay on his stomach, cold asphalt underneath him. Hand free from the universe's grip.
Cars drove in out of nowhere to park, but Jack barely even noticed them. He was too busy locking eyes with a worried-looking girl crouched on roller-blades above him.
"Hey, bean," her voice was soft, gentle. Just like he'd thought. "Are you alright?" She was beautiful, up close, more than he ever would have imagined. Her eyes were a vivid green he'd never seen on anyone before. And they were glued to him. Him.
"I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw you step in there," she continued. "But you fixed it! Just like that."
"I feel stupid for askin'," Jack started, voice weaker than he intended. "But what did I fix, exactly?"
Rapunzel's smile warmed something inside of him. She reached a hand out, gently pushing his head to the side. Jack didn't have enough time to soak in the touch. Instead, he took to staring at the Drive-In.
Completely whole, with no void in sight.
Rapunzel's voice brought him back to reality. "The moon disappeared as soon as Elsa came over to see me. She told me you were in there—the white-haired boy, Jack. And then..." Her mind went elsewhere, eyes filled with wonder. "And then the void started repairing itself. It's gone! Everything is fixed!"
Jack brought his right hand up to his face, surprised to see it wasn't a crushed mess. Guardian, he was hearing people whisper. The Moonlight's guardian. It felt strange having so much attention. All he'd had before was Jamie's little gang of ankle biters. He didn't know whether he liked it or not, though that might've just been because he'd have preferred his first meeting with Rapunzel to be slightly more intimate. Her thoughts seemed to parallel with his.
"Come on," Rapunzel took his right hand in his and pulled him to his feet. She skated over to an old, yellow truck parked off to the side and opened the tail gate for them to sit on.
"Do you feel complete?" She asked, out of the blue, before shaking her head. "Sorry. It's just—I've been watching you from the Sliver for a while now, and—oh, god. That sound's creepy. I haven't been watching you. More like... noticing. You're hard not to notice."
"Is it my startling blue eyes?"
A blush crept over Rapunzel's cheeks as she laughed. "I'd say the entire package." She held out a hand to shake. "I'm Rapunzel, by the way. I didn't introduce myself."
"Jack," Jack said as he took her offered hand. He held it a beat longer than he should have, something Rapunzel didn't seem to mind, to his relief. "Don't you have food to serve?"
She tugged at her skirt, which brought Jack's gaze to her short, sun-kissed legs. He held himself back from reaching a hand out toward the sliver of bare skin, looking back up to meet her gaze instead. Beautiful, his heart yelled out. She was so, incredibly beautiful. "They can handle themselves for a few minutes without me." She reached out, suddenly, stilling Jack's heart as she cupped his face with a hand. "You feel it too, don't you? The tug. It's like I've been looking at a glass of water sitting across the room, throat dry as the sand, and now I finally have it in hand. Not that I'm comparing you to an inanimate glass of water."
Jack smiled. "Sounds like you are."
With her other hand, Rapunzel playfully shoved at his shoulder. Jack caught her wrist in his hand and pulled her closer, so they were now only inches apart. "I feel it too," he finally said. And he did. He knew the void's disappearance wasn't his doing, that was the make of some higher power, but it had filled a hole inside him that'd been empty for far too long. Hearing that he wasn't alone in that thought proved his gut hadn't been wrong. He kissed her on the cheek, then on the corner of her lips. She was the one to fully cup his jaw, to pull him into a magical kiss.
When they finally pulled away, Jack took off his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders so she could lean back comfortably onto the truck. Her roller blades thunked onto the tailgate. "They can hold the joint up a bit longer without you, right?" Jack asked, just as the first meteor fell.
"I'm long overdue for a break," Rapunzel answered. The flutter of her fingers against his sent a spark through his veins.
And so they lay there, hand in hand, staring at the stars that never faded, at the meteors sparking through them brightly. A final piece finally set in place.
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rwbyremnants · 4 years
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WARNING: Pain and scarification, urine.
NOTE: Welcome to 2020! Time to keep this Freezerburn train a-rollin'!
=Chapter 11
Shopkeeper’s went dead silent the moment Weiss entered with the Belladonnas. It was a lot emptier than usual to begin with; most tables were empty, and Ilia wasn’t buzzing around. Blake was probably relieved about that. Meanwhile, Vernal and the pair of older women at one of the tables gave them a nasty look when they saw the platinum-haired girl in their midst again.
“Well, well,” Cinder called out harshly from their usual corner. Emerald was there, sipping at a glass, but the others were nowhere to be found. “You’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”
“Enough,” said Kali, and Cinder fell silent, not having expected the older woman to address her. “She’s going straight through to the boss.”
The smouldering eyes flew wide. After a moment, she stood up and approached the three, who were now closer to the center of the establishment. “Want me to take her?”
“Please.”
“Got it.” Now, Cinder seemed to be playing her emotions close to the chest, whereas her hostility had been open and raw a moment before. Her eyes were calculating, moving between Weiss and the two Italian Dragons on either side of her. “I’ll… go ask. What should I tell her?”
“That she wishes to be tested.”
“Alright.”
With that, Cinder slipped into the back room. The instant she was gone, Blake moved to sit with Emerald, and Kali turned Weiss just enough so that she could catch hold of her shoulders. The leather jacket looked a little strange on top of the pretty dress, but also somehow suited the older woman. Weiss would have to remember that combination for the future.
“Remember what I told you,” she said in a gentle voice. “It’s going to seem worse than it is. Just… bite your tongue when you feel the desire to shoot your mouth off, and keep to ‘Yes, High Dragon’ and ‘No, High Dragon’ as often as you can. If you do anything stupid, I’ll try to intercede on your behalf before you get roughed up, but try not to need me to in the first place. I won’t be going in with you, and until you prove yourself, you can’t count on Cinder to watch your back since she still thinks you’re a stoolie.”
“I’ll be careful,” she promised her with a sober nod. “I promise.”
“Alright.” Her lips pressed into Weiss’s forehead, and she sighed at the minimal comfort they provided. “Good luck. Be smart.”
It only took another minute or so for Cinder to ease the door open and say, “She’ll see you now.”
The back room was quite smoky, compared with the front room which was always smoke-free. Weiss coughed, not used to breathing in more than the occasional wisp of her father’s cigars. Several booths lined the smaller room, and in the very back corner was the shadowy figure she had glimpsed before, enshrouded in her cloak as always.
“Sit,” Salem ordered. Weiss sat across from her. “Cinder tells me you sought an audience.”
“Yes, High Dragon.”
A quiet hum of appreciation came from the shadows, and she saw Cinder nodding where she stood by the table out of the corner of her eye. But she didn’t make the mistake of letting herself get distracted; Kali had told her to keep her full attention on Salem at all times. Along with a lot of other things that she secretly hoped would never come into play… and that she didn’t forget them if they were needed.
“You have manners, after all. Now, what brings you here? Being tested? Do you understand what that means?”
“Yes, High Dragon. I wish to… apologise for what happened, and to explain. And b-be tested if it please you.”
“I don’t enjoy tall tales. You have one minute.”
So Weiss crammed her story into a single minute. She was still explaining what she had shouted at her father after he slapped her when Salem held up a pale hand to silence her. In the low lighting, she could tell it was yet paler than her own skin - almost completely devoid of any pigment at all. But she couldn’t see it for long enough to tell for certain before the hand withdrew into the shadows again.
“Very well. You stood in defiance and he struck you, and struck us. I expected no less of Jacques Schnee.”
“You know my father?”
“Not intimately. Only by reputation.” She produced a cigarette on a stem, and Cinder immediately leapt to light it for her, the Zippo seeming to come from nowhere. After a puff or two, she breathed a cloud in Weiss’s face, and she couldn’t help coughing. “Poor baby.”
“Sorry, High Dragon,” she gagged.
“You expect me to believe this fish story?”
“It is the truth. I… wish anything else had happened.”
“Then you are willing to submit to my test?”
The possibilities flashed through Weiss’s mind. Kali had told her about all of them, and while she despised some of the notions even more than the others, the idea of Yang and the rest of the Dragons never believing her was much worse. “I am, High Dragon. If it please you.”
“Very well. Cinder… fetch the box.”
With a clipped bow, Cinder went into a door leading off from the back of the back room. Though she didn’t take her eyes off the end of Salem’s glowing cigarette, her mind wandered to how the brunette Dragon was behaving. This was a level of obedience she didn’t even think Cinder was capable of. She never seemed to care much what anyone else thought or felt. Apparently, the boss truly commanded her respect in ways no one else could.
“Here, High Dragon,” she said as she set the small wooden chest down in the booth bench next to Salem.
“Thank you.” She flipped the top of the chest open and began to rummage around the inside. “Hmm… not today. I never use this on girls her age. That one is interesting…”
Gulping, Weiss finally did spare a glance at Cinder, and saw she was completely at ease. Not darkly excited to see her be tortured, but neither was she worried about Weiss at all. She was doing her job; a consummate professional.
“Here. Yes, I really feel this is the right way to go.”
When she looked to the tabletop, she saw Salem’s ghostly hand laying down a small metal implement. It was a branding iron, if Weiss didn’t miss her guess. The bottom of her stomach fell even further. Though it was not the worst of the possibilities Kali had told her about on the drive over - which she had seemingly given a miss due to her age - it was definitely not the least worrisome, either.
“Yes, High Dragon. Where…” She had to swallow down her fear, forcing her voice to be as steady as she could. “Where… will you…?”
“Ooh, brave girl,” she chuckled, motioning for Cinder to take it. She did, and flicked her lighter again, holding the flame on the business end of the brand. “That is the question, isn’t it? Where will you let me mark you forever?”
“I wouldn’t presume to tell you, High Dragon.”
“I’m asking. Where would you prefer it?”
It didn’t take Weiss much time to think. “M-my back, somewhere. I think.”
“Hmm. That ashamed to see your pretty skin has been disfigured, are we? It already has been once.” The finger that lashed out to slide down the scar below her left eye was gone an instant after it appeared, not even giving Weiss enough time to flinch until afterward. “Very well. I think I should like you to come around here by me.”
As Weiss rounded the table, the mysterious woman moved the chest so that Weiss could sit. Then she put a hand in the middle of Weiss’s back. At first, she was confused, but the gentle pressure got her to bend over the table, knees resting on the bench.
“Good. I’ve made my decision, and I know what my target should be.” As the hand pressed her into the table a little harder, she asked, “You are aware of the consequences if you resist?”
“Yes, High Dragon.” Kali had told her; if she panicked and ran away, or otherwise interrupted the test, she would prove herself a coward and they would either have to start over, or she would simply never be trusted again, depending on Salem’s mood. It was not wise to challenge that mood at all.
But she felt sorely tempted to challenge when she felt a hand hiking her skirt up, tucking it into the collar of her sweater. She couldn’t help but let out a quiet “No” when she felt the fingers wrapping around the waistband of her panties.
“What was that?” Salem asked mildly.
“N-nothing, High Dragon,” she promised her.
“Good.” The underwear was yanked down - probably more violently due to her involuntary protest. A hand ghosted over one of her bare cheeks. Weiss had never felt her heart race this fast in her entire life, not even all those times Yang had kissed her. This was fear without any of the excitement, any guilty anticipation. Pure dread. “Are you right-handed or left-handed?”
“Left,” she told her.
“This one, then.” It was the left cheek already. “Cinder, is it ready?”
“Almost, High Dragon.” The flame from the lighter wasn’t big enough to have heated the hot poker yet.
“Here,” Salem said, pressing a leather cuff against Weiss’s mouth. When she only looked at her in confusion, she added, “To bite down on. Or don’t you want it?”
“Yes, High Dragrphhh,” she said as it was slid between her teeth. She hated to think about where the leather had been - or what it had been used for.
“Good girl. Cinder, show her.”
Then the brand was displayed to her eyes, glowing cherry red a few inches away so she could feel the warmth pouring off it in waves. The brand design was a very small version of the Asian dragon that graced the backs of their jackets. No letters, no other finery; only the dragon itself. After a second or two, Cinder took it away again, and the shadow of the image was still burned into her vision temporarily.
“Are you ready? A nod will do.” Weiss nodded, and Salem patted the small of her back as Cinder went back to heating it to make sure it was ready. “Now… do you swear to me that everything you have told me is the truth?” Another nod. “Do you swear loyalty to the Dragons above all others, including family, country, and other rival organizations?” Though she wanted to protest, she knew better than to openly defy Salem - especially under these circumstances. So she nodded again. “Do you swear to uphold our traditions, our ideals, and never to betray one of us to an outside party?” Another nod - and she hoped Salem couldn’t tell that her cheeks were clenching.
“Very well. Weiss Schnee, I hereby mark you as one of our own.”
It was only at that moment, between the words and the following action, that Weiss fully understood the implications of what she had just done. Blue eyes pulled wide as saucers, and her breath caught fast. She hadn’t simply assured the Dragons that she harboured no ill will toward them and was not directly responsible for the raid on Junior’s.
Weiss Schnee had become a Dragon.
Then searing heat was biting into her hind-flesh, and she screamed.
Everything went blank for a few seconds, possibly minutes. When she could focus again, it was to feel a cold, wet cloth being pressed into the brand. It made her growl into the leather again, tasting her own tears that had ran down over her upper lip, but she held perfectly still.
“Good girl,” Salem purred softly, almost lovingly. “You didn’t even thrash or fall off the table. More of the girls do that than you would think, tough as they are now.”
The other hand jerked the leather free, and she saw her own teeth marks in it as it was taken away. Voice weak, she managed to mumble, “Tha… thank you, High Dragon.”
“You’re welcome.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cinder returning with a towel. “Ah, there we are. And you shouldn’t feel ashamed; better women than you have lost control when being branded. All in all, your voluntary reactions say much more about you than the involuntary ones. A true Dragon should be able to stand a little fire, and you did. Very encouraging.”
Though Weiss was confused, she felt the towel sliding across the table and patting her inner thighs and the confusion was gone. She had wet herself. Why didn’t she even remember that taking place? Shame burned in her cheeks now that she realised that had happened, and she tried to turn her face away, but the feeling of the towel grazing her unmentionable area made it impossible to escape the reality entirely.
Clearly, Salem was going to leave it to Cinder to do the clean-up work, because she was focusing on words now. “So your father decided to take it upon himself to punish us all for your indiscretion?”
“H-he did, High Dragon. I had no idea until today, when… Blake told me about the raid.”
“Mmm. A powerful man like that has the ear of the Sheriff whenever he wishes.” Salem’s fingertips drummed on the table as she felt the cold cloth being flipped over on her burn, and she hissed from the pain. “And you have his ear, typically.”
“I do. When… when I’m behaving, he…”
“You’re going to maintain that. For now. We can use it to our advantage. For example… one of our own may lose her moll.”
“Velvet?” she asked, and she heard an approving hum. “I… I w-was going to talk to him about her father, High Dragon. She shouldn’t have to… to go all the way back to Australia.”
“You’re full of pleasant surprises, Rookie. Very well. Assure him that you’re back to being his perfect little girl. Be more discreet when venturing here or out with Yang. Ask for the favour. Velvet isn’t a Dragon - not yet - but she means a great deal to Adel. I’d never begrudge one of my girls a warm bed companion. Accomplish this little task, and we’ll see what else we can do with you.”
Blushing from how forthright she was being, and also the hands still dressing the wound on her rear end, Weiss thought about that. Maybe Salem wasn’t as cruel as she had been led to believe. Then again, she had just branded her, so the truth was probably that she was both cruel and kind in equal measure.
“So then you believe me, High Dragon?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m willing to give you the benefit of a doubt, because you put yourself through this initiation. More hazing will likely come from the others. Trust is something you build, not a single decision.”
“Yes, High Dragon. Thank you.”
“You must really love my Baby Dragon.”
“What?”
“Yang,” she clarified as Cinder finally tugged her underwear back into place. She could feel some dampness near one of the leg holes and dearly hoped it was from the rag. “I have a feeling we wouldn’t be here right now if you weren’t so hopelessly devoted to her.”
Weiss cleared her throat. “Y-yes, High Dragon. I… I love her.” She was shocked at the honesty in her own voice.
“Then remember well: if you disappoint her, you’ll be disappointing me. I’m grooming her to take over the organization when I’m gone, you know. She is something like…” Salem considered for a moment. “Somewhere between a daughter and a protege. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course, High Dragon. I won’t let you down.”
“More promises. We shall see. Cinder?”
Cinder didn’t have to be told twice. As she steered the shell-shocked initiate back through the door, she grumbled, “I wish I was in Yang’s position.”
“What?” she gasped, blinking numbly. “You mean… you and I-”
“No, no,” she grunted impatiently. “Even though I guess I did finally get to rub you.” At Weiss’s shocked expression, she snapped, “Don’t be a baby. I don’t care about cleaning up your piss one way or the other; I’m joking. You need thicker skin, Princess.”
Stubbornly pushing through that topic, she said, “Then what did you mean?”
“Her position in line to be the next High Dragon. But I suppose I should be satisfied with having Salem’s trust.” Her eyes slid aside to look at Weiss. “The way you seem to now.”
“But she said she doesn’t trust me.”
“Actually, she did, but she didn’t say she mistrusts you entirely. Which is more than I could say for most stool pigeons who tried to get back into her good graces.”
“I swear, everything I said was true,” Weiss told her as they arrived at the table. Kali was already in the kitchens again, but Blake and Emerald were waiting to see what happened. “I know… I know how it seemed to you, and I understand now why you all looked like you wanted me dead in school. But all I can do is swear on a stack of Bibles that I didn’t do anything to hurt Yang, and never would!”
“Great for Yang,” Emerald scoffed. “What about the rest of us?”
“Give it a rest,” Blake sighed. “She’s been through a lot the past week. Daddy gave her a ‘love tap’.”
That silenced the green-haired girl immediately. She glanced at Cinder, who was also keeping quiet. A moment later, she stalked off toward the bar.
“Her parents weren’t any better. She gets it.”
Weiss remembered being told that Cinder had a pretty unfortunate life until this point. Maybe a history of abusive parents was a piece of that puzzle. Watching the woman order alcohol only seemed to confirm it; though she didn’t know her very well, she could guess that this topic being brought up again might drive someone to drink. After all… it did the same thing to her own mother.
“He really hit you?” Emerald asked, breaking her from her reverie.
“Yes,” she sighed, touching her cheek as the memory resurfaced. “Wasn’t the first time, but… I really thought it would never happen again. Shows what I know.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Blake cut in immediately, standing and taking up her hand. It seemed that most of her reservations about Weiss had gone away again now that she had proven herself. “You’re a teenager. We all are; we’re not supposed to be the ones controlling our emotions.”
Deflating with relief, she said, “Thank you. It’s so good to hear someone say that! Well, besides your mother.”
Emerald laughed a little, finishing off her current drink as Cinder drifted back toward the table. “Been here three times and you already have Kali fussing over you.”
“Ugh,” Blake grunted.
“It’s nice,” Weiss said earnestly. “She’s really nice. And I mean… I missed that. Having a mom.”
“Yeah,” Emerald chuckled, though it was more subdued. “I mean, my mom was alright. But I’m fine without her.”
Maybe it was an awkward question, but Weiss decided to take her chances. “Are a lot of Dragons orphans? Runaways?”
“What do you think?” Cinder snapped as she set her glass down heavily. “Good little children with loving families always join gangs, don’t they? Oh wait - that’s not how it works.”
“Lay off,” Blake said, though not harshly. “She’s one of us now.”
“That’s right.” Her eyes focused on Weiss’s and she smirked very slightly. For some reason, she knew - knew in her gut that Cinder was about to mention her losing control of her bladder while being branded. But instead, all she said was, “One of us. The princess has become a dragon.”
“I still don’t know what that means,” Weiss admitted. “I have to do more, don’t I? To complete my… training, or whatever it is.”
“I just can’t believe you did it,” Emerald said, serious for once. “Thought you would run screaming before you became a thug like us.”
Cinder surprised them by speaking up. “Well, she did it. And she was less of a yellow-belly about it than you were.”
While Emerald was sputtering in mingled surprise and indignation, Blake giggled. Then she turned back to Weiss with a small, thoughtful smile. “I’m with Emerald, though. You really surprised me today, Schnee. Knew I liked you for a reason. Have a seat.”
She started to, then felt the pull of the tape holding the bandage in place. “Um… maybe I’d better stand.”
“Then sit here.” Without further ado, she pulled Weiss down to sit on her left thigh, so that the injured area hung off the side. She yelped in mild surprise and Emerald snickered, but Blake only looped an arm around her waist for support. “That’s better, isn’t it?”
“Depends on what you mean by ‘better’! For you, clearly!”
“I could start doing this…” Her leg jogged up and down, and Weiss hissed from the mingling pain and pleasure it brought her; she stopped soon after. “But no, I’m just trying to offer you an alternative seat. Don’t forget that it’ll be a few days before you can sit down regularly.”
“What am I going to do in school?” she whispered. “I have to sit all day!”
Leaning forward on her elbows, Emerald said, “Sit on Yang’s lap instead?”
“I’ll give you a special pillow,” Cinder promised her with a smirk. “With a little hole in it. We had it made just for this reason; most girls end up with it exactly where you did. Though you might look a little ridiculous carrying it from class to class…”
“Maybe, but it’s better than being in agony, or having teachers ask why I’m still standing,” she sighed, running her fingers through her bangs and still trying not to think about being this close to Blake. For her part, at least her hands weren’t wandering any further than Weiss’s stomach and the knee draped between both of her own. “Thank you, Cinder.”
“You two look cute together.”
They all turned to see Kali standing there, wearing two oven mitts and a playful expression. Immediately, Cinder piled on, “Don’t they, Miss Belladonna? Someone should take a Polaroid.”
“My little girl is growing up,” she said in a falsely sentimental voice, wiping away an imaginary tear.
“Ughhh,” Blake sighed again, though she didn’t force Weiss from her lap. “I’m just helping her heal her Dragon brand.”
That made the woman’s smile falter. “Oh? So… she went for that test. Interesting.”
“Why?” Weiss asked.
“She must see potential in you as a Dragon. Otherwise, she would have done something else. Either painful… or…” She shrugged, folding her arms below her ample bosoms. This time, Weiss noticed Emerald waggle her eyebrows as she watched them bounce slightly. “Well, we’ve all heard the stories. Or lived through it. All things considered, this does have farther-reaching consequences, but it could have been worse.”
“Made Velvet dance for her,” Cinder remarked. “Wasn’t too bad, but Velvet wasn’t as… comfortable showing off as she is now. A little burlesque show almost left her in tears.”
“Like you did,” Blake muttered.
“I did it because she wanted me to,” Cinder insisted through her teeth. “You’re all so willing to think I’m a sadist.”
“You are! There’s no ‘think’ about it!”
“But I’m not an unfeeling monster!”
“Now, now, girls,” Kali said as she slid into the seat next to her daughter. One of her hands wound up on Weiss’s arm, offering silent comfort; she appreciated that. “No bickering or I’ll send you home without supper. And I have a fine pair of pizza pies in the oven right now.”
Instantly, they all cried, “Pizza!” Kali tittered in approval.
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prettywordsyouleft · 5 years
Text
Beyond the Palace Walls - Part Five
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Genre: royal au / fluff / adventure / self-growth
Characters: Jung Jaehyun x reader (feat. Ten, Lucas and Taeyong)
A/N: This story was started as a request but it didn’t suit the idol I was writing it for and it was too good to scrap. Originally, it was going to be a Lucas fiction but then I realised I was writing Jaehyun without realising it and so my bias one of them won it out.
Index:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Epilogue
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The euphoria of kissing Jaehyun was still there when you opened your eyes the next morning, smiling lazily at the blue sky above as you adjusted to leaving your dreams behind.
Now that you were awake, you didn’t have to dream of Jaehyun anymore.
Picking yourself up from the spot you had slept upon, you dusted off the skirt of your dress before shifting to where you heard the morning routine beginning. This was your favourite part of the day, the communal effort of helping one another get ready for another day of travel always brightened you up. You liked seeing Lucas still half asleep as he blindly grabbed onto the food Taeyong held out to him. You smiled when you found Jane and Ten nudging each other playfully as they washed their faces. And you stopped moving altogether when Jaehyun’s gaze caught yours.
You wanted to wake up like this for the rest of your life.
“So today we should get to the ocean,” Taeyong mentioned elatedly, smiling over at you in particular as you quietly ate the bread you were given for breakfast. “We just need to travel through the next township and then turn onto the track to the beach. We will make it there by late afternoon if we don’t loiter in the village for long. We only need to gather new supplies, so maybe half an hour spent there?”
Ten nodded. “It won’t be long until we’re crossing the border into our kingdom, either.”
“Really?!” He nodded again at Jane’s exclamation and she squealed with happiness. “I’m rather excited to see where you all come from!”
“It’s not that exciting, lots of villages much like this one,” Lucas said with a shrug and Jane shot him a look. He chuckled at her. “But if you want to think of it as a magical venture into another land, who am I to take that from you?”
You had to admit you felt as excited as Jane. You would see the vast mass of water you had envisioned and then move onto another chapter in your journey entirely. You knew you’d eventually need to discuss with Jaehyun about heading home too, but for now, it was far from your conscious thoughts. You just wanted to live in the now, to enjoy the company of your group of friends and experience more of the land you were travelling. You felt light as if nothing could drag you down in mood or thought.
And when you set out for the next township, you fell into step next to Jaehyun, his smile small enough to not draw anyone’s attention to it, but his eyes were bright and shining at you. It made you feel giddy and you quietly shifted closer to his side.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked and you nodded lightly. “I’m glad.”
“And you?”
Jaehyun blushed a little; now shy due to not being alone with you. It made you feel encouraged to brush your fingertips against his hand next to yours and he glanced down at your gesture before snapping his head up and facing the path you were walking along. He then cleared his throat. “Must you tempt me so early in the morning, Y/N?”
“Should I act as though you weren’t all over me last night?” you asked, staring ahead yourself. For some reason, you liked how affected he was by your attention on him right now. It made you feel empowered that there was someone out there who had fallen for your charms that you hadn’t known to exist until last night. Perhaps, they grew when you were asleep and you were now a renewed version of yourself, unable to deny the fluttering within your stomach any longer. You had become addicted to Jaehyun the first time his lips touched yours and you didn’t know how else to address it than directly. You hadn’t expected him to become the shy one, especially with how forward he had been last night under that tree, and all the way back to camp.
You felt selfish, but you yearned to get him alone just so you could taste him again.
“You’re flying too freely right now, little bird,” he mentioned as he recomposed himself, though his cheeks remained flushed. You giggled and he groaned, shaking his head. “Now I’m the one entrapped.”
“By me?”
He glanced at you and nodded. “By you.”
To say you felt overwhelmed was an understatement. And because you were so wrapped up in how magical it felt to have him admit that, you weren’t watching where your feet were being placed down and tripped over a small rock, hitting the ground with a thud before he could save you. It was a wake-up call that you would have preferred to reach you in another way.
Especially since your waist was still healing.
“Are you alright?” Jaehyun asked as he helped you up and you nodded before you could truly assess any damage. Apart from the bruise to your ego from the embarrassment of falling literally head over heels for him, you couldn’t decipher if there was any further pain. He looked you over as Taeyong jogged back, concerned that you had both fallen behind.
“Did you fall?” he asked as he examined the situation and you nodded softly, your eyes widening when Jaehyun started wiping the dirt off of you. It was intimate and yet an instinctive way to help someone in an accident, but it wasn’t helping you any. You grabbed at the skirt and yanked, wiping it down roughly yourself.
“I’ll be perfectly fine. Shall we continue on?” you asked firmly, giving both men a look before you moved off swiftly, cursing inwardly at the pain now coursing through you and the embarrassment that still overwhelmed you.
That would teach you for feeling too giddy over capturing Jaehyun’s heart. Falling at his feet was a distinct reminder that this trip was short-lived and you would eventually have to return home – without him at your side. Your mood darkened for most of the morning, and by the time you reached the next village you were far too exhausted. Dragging Jane off to the closest bathroom, you pulled her inside and let out an excessive whine.
“Why are you like this?” she asked, watching you intently for a moment and then she gasped. You guessed you didn’t need to tell her anything, she knew you far too well for secrets to exist long between you. “Did you, did you do something last night?”
“Jaehyun kissed me.”
“Y/N!” she shrieked, slapping your lower arm frantically. You cried out and pushed her off.
“That hurts! I fell over before, remember?!”
“I’m sorry but you know you’re not meant to let anyone but nobility touch your lips!”
You glowered at your best friend. “So I’m not allowed to be elated at all? I thought you would be pleased for me, considering how happy I was for you and Ten.”
“Yes, well there is a difference between us, Y/N. You’re not exactly free to kiss anyone in this world, regardless of how much I feel Jaehyun matches you. I know you might have forgotten that you’re a princess but I haven’t, and if your Father finds-”
“Enough Jane!” you cried, tears brimming in your eyes. “I had hoped for your support!”
“Y/N!” she called as you flung open the stall door, stomping away from your best friend and away from everything in haste. Today had started out so well and now you were an emotional wreck. You had read that when in love you act irrational, but were you really? As a friend, you had hoped that Jane would be excited for you, much like you had been for her. Had she always regarded you so differently? You had never put a distinction between your friendship, she was the best person in your world. Did she not feel the same? You hated that you now doubted her and as you ran around the village blindly, you hoped you would stop thinking so negatively. You didn’t realise how messy it could get to admit you liked Jaehyun. Would the others dislike you feeling something for Jaehyun as well?
Today was not a good day.
“Oh sorry, Miss!” someone said as you bumped into them and you turned to apologise, your eyes widening when over his shoulder you spotted a royal guard. You moved just before he turned to look at you and raced back along the path you had taken, only to find another guard coming towards you. Why hadn’t they moved on? They had been through the forest hours ago, and by horseback they should have easily been able to explore this village and be on the move before now.
It made you panic and you hoped for someone you knew to appear right then. A hand shot out for you and pulled you out of sight, muffling your sentence as you asked if it was Jaehyun. You noticed by the grip that it wasn’t and your eyes adjusted to the darkness, relaxing when you saw that it was Taeyong.
Until he let you go. “Just how long until you told us, Your Highness?”
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Taeyong had gathered everyone quickly and you had all left the village, the eldest keeping you close to him in case you did anything rash. Which, given the dark gaze he was continuously shooting you, it was rather pointless but you didn’t want to argue anymore.
You were tired.
And when you were finally surrounded by the trees again, Taeyong stopped walking altogether, turning to face everyone else. He regarded them each for a moment, sighing when his eyes fell upon Jaehyun’s.
“You knew?” It only took Jaehyun a second to realise what he meant. He went to speak but the leader shook his head. “Why are we doing this, Jaehyun?”
“Why have you done everything you have for me?” he shot back and Lucas rubbed at the back of his head in confusion.
“What’s going on?”
“That’s different, to me you’re someone I’ve known my whole life. Doing this for you makes sense. And whilst I wondered if you were similar, I didn’t expect it to be this close!”
“Don’t!” Jaehyun yelled and the two stared at one another, panting heavily. You watched them both, and it only dawned on you then that there was more to this group than they let on. You wondered why it only struck you then. Stepping forward to them both, you went to speak but Taeyong pointed at you harshly.
“The missing princess, I should have known that’s why you were helping her!”
“Wait, what?” Ten glanced at his hyung and then at you and Jane. “The missing princess? No way.”
Jane diverted her gaze and kept silent as Ten cursed loudly.
“You helped me escape my own fate, why can’t we help her?!”
“Did you know from the beginning?” Taeyong bit back and Jaehyun shook his head firmly. “When did you find out?”
“The night before last.”
“When we first heard the rumour of her missing?!” Taeyong reiterated and let out an incredulous scoff. “We could get in trouble for this!”
“To be honest, it’s not that bad,” Lucas added to the conversation but no one paid him any mind.
You groaned and shook your head, turning on your heel and marched off down the path you were travelling on. You didn’t want to hear them argue anymore. There was another who joined you and you glanced to see Jane at your side, smiling gently at her as you took her hand.
“I’m sorry, you know.”
“I’m sorry too, for all of this.”
Jane sighed. “Do you think they’ll hate us for long?”
Before you could answer, you heard feet behind you. You both turned to see Ten approaching you and he slung an arm around Jane’s shoulders. He then smirked. “Not every day I get to escort a princess around the lands.”
“You’re not mad at me?” Jane asked and Ten shook his head.
“If you didn’t leave the castle, I wouldn’t have seen you again, right?”
“So then it’s a good thing that I convinced Jane to let me escape?”
“It’s not logical that’s for sure, but I think you’re pretty reckless for a princess, Y/N,” Lucas’ voice stated and you grinned at him as he fell into step beside you. “I don’t have to call you, Your Highness, right? I haven’t had to say that in so long now, and I don’t really want to go back to it again.”
“Lucas,” Ten warned and the youngest chuckled. You watched Lucas for a moment and mulled over his words.
Who had he served before joining this group?
“What about the other two?” Jane asked softly, noting they weren’t following just yet. Ten shot her a smile.
“They’ll come, don’t you worry.”
You were curious even if you were frustrated, and the guilt was eating at you from the outburst just now. It was difficult to be concerned with so many different emotions at once, and you didn’t know which one to address first. Should you apologise to everyone for putting them in this position? Ten and Lucas didn’t seem to mind as they joked around with you and Jane right now. But you still felt guilty for not being the one to tell them as you had hoped to. You were going to announce it at the ocean, to scream it out against the winds that you were the princess on the run from her life. That they had assisted you this far and you would let them continue on without you. That you would let Jane go in your stead to visit their homeland and return back to the village alone and get someone to help you back to your caged home.
Yet you had so many questions that the boys themselves weren’t exactly alluding to. What kind of group were they? You had half penned them down as some good vigilantes, helping others as they travelled from village to village. Like the tales of Robin Hood, you had some fantastical belief that the four of them were out against the world, assisting those who needed their aide.
Now though, you questioned it. The mentioning of royalty by Lucas had you wondering if they were messengers instead, or worse, spies for the neighbouring kingdom. You felt deep within your heart that you could trust them, but it didn’t stop your mind from conjuring such thoughts either. Did they work for the King or one of the princes of their kingdom? You wanted to ask, yet it scared you to as well.
And you were frustrated that you couldn’t stop Taeyong and Jaehyun from fighting and had walked off from them instead of approaching the situation as you had always been taught to do – with tact. You stopped walking, glancing over your shoulder at the lack of the pair behind you. It made you worried, hoping that they were safe. A grave sense of dread washed over you then and you spun around, heading back in the way you had travelled.
“Y/N!” Jane called and jogged to your side. “Where are you going, the ocean is this way.”
“I can’t leave them behind. What if they’re in trouble?”
“They know how to look after themselves, don’t worry.”
You glanced at Ten and he nodded to ensure his words were true. You sighed and glanced at the track in front of you once more and then slowly turned around again, your steps feeling heavy within your ears. It was then that you realised those weren’t the sound your steps at all and spun to see a large bay horse galloping down the track, coming to an unsteady halt in front of you all.
“Where did you get the horse from?” Lucas asked with a chuckle as Taeyong dismounted with haste and then came to your side, his eyes wide with fear.
“You need to get up here, now.”
“What, why?” Jane asked as you reached up for the hand Jaehyun offered, Taeyong guiding you so you were safely up within Jaehyun’s arms on the horse. You noticed the rein’s design and gasped.
“Where will you go?” Jaehyun asked with urgency to Taeyong, who glanced around himself.
“We’ll spread out into the forest to cause a distraction. Take her to the ocean, we’ll meet you there. Go now!”
Without so much of a farewell, Jaehyun kicked the horse to move off again, your eyes stuck on Jane’s until you could no longer see her.
Stick to the back roads. Don’t be seen and always travel as a group.
Your departure from the others worried you and you clung to Jaehyun as the horse galloped along the track, taking you further away from those who meant just as much to you as Jaehyun now did. You didn’t know what would happen next, even if you reached the ocean.
And that scared you.
_________________
Part 6
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spoons4spoonies · 5 years
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Story Time
My secondary school holds a leaving ball for Year 13 students every June after exams are finished. It is a lavish affair with free champagne and a private bar and is run jointly with the boy’s school. The tickets are expensive even if you choose to be sober (like me) or are underage (like a few of my friends), but it’s the last time you will see many of your peers and teachers. Unless of course you are the type to find endless excuses to come back to visit, and are also the type of student that the school wants to visit. It will not surprise you to know that I am both.
Anyway, though there is not technically a dress code (evidenced by the fact that one boy turned up in a long vest as some kind of joke that showed off an unseemly proportion of his chest hair and was skin tight in a very unflattering manner) most girls wear ball gowns and high heels. I myself chose to wear scarlet high heels – the kind that you only wear if you plan to be sitting down most of the evening – and a beautiful dress I’d bought in a sale from my favourite shop. It was black velvet (or velvet style, real velvet no doubt costs more than thirty pounds) with a wide skirt patterned with flowers and birds in gold and red and green thread. My sister was even convinced to wear makeup and do her hair for her ball, probably one of three times I have ever seen her wear eyeshadow.
For many years, it had been tradition for the leaving ball to be held on a river boat on the Thames. No doubt this was the decision of the boy’s school as they had control over all these things. (Just a little casual sexism, but that’s for another day). I had heard many stories about this notorious boat; people getting travel sick from the turbulence, people breaking ankles and other bones falling over getting into the boat (I.e. before they were even drunk! That’s high heels for you I suppose) and of it generally being a bit of a hazard. My sister was certainly fairly unimpressed by it.
As someone who could get motion sick on a bicycle, it is something of an understatement to say I was relieved when they decided to host it in the Museum of London for my year. Though I have to say I didn’t trust my peers to act sensibly around the exhibits once drunk.
I got my hair done that afternoon and my aunt arrived to look after me (I may have been eighteen but even at twenty I am still not entirely trusted on my own) as my parents and sister were attending her graduation ceremony in Cambridge. She received a double first, another in a long line of academic achievements that I will never fail to be proud of her for. I am sad that I couldn’t be there too, but with my energy levels it wouldn’t have been manageable.
I travelled to the ball in style in a black cab with my friend and neighbour who we shall call Corporal for their time spent in the Army cadets. They were wearing a tailored suit bought for them by their godmother that had a Praedae Causa embroidered under the collar – a Latin phrase that we translated to mean “For the sake of the booty”. A very private school joke.
For the first hour we gathered in an upstairs hall where the free champagne was delivered and tap water was surprisingly hard to come by. It was here that our teachers joined us (some for the free alcohol I suspect) and mingling was encouraged. My main concern was the lack of chairs, given my shoes and the weakness of my legs (though I had not yet been diagnosed with POTS at this point, I knew far too well how little I liked standing up for long periods of time). But I remember getting lots of praise for my outfit, something I bask in, and trying to get as many photos as possible with my friends.
A, one of my Kpop friends, was wearing a beautiful traditional sarong in red and gold and had huge false eyelashes on that greatly suited her. I believe this was before she shaved her head for charity so she would have had her long curly hair. N was wearing a lovely red dress – unusual for her – that she had some trouble ordering as the company got the measurements wrong and sent a damaged version. But she looked stunning regardless and she had the luck to be going with her girlfriend – they are still together, and are definitely what one might call couple goals.
Then we were carefully directed downstairs to another room with big, round tables and a section for dancing at the far end. The music they were playing wasn’t the best, as for licensing reasons they could only play covers of pop songs. Mostly I wish they wouldn’t play music at all during dinner as one can’t hear the conversation at all.
First course couldn’t come soon enough – by this point I was starving! – it was gravlax and grapefruit in not exactly generous portions. Luckily, my friends didn’t like raw fish, so I had several helpings! The main course was beef and potato dauphinoise, and again I had several helpings as N had just stopped eating dairy. Then came pudding, the best part of any meal, which was a chocolate brownie, ice cream and some coffee flavoured mousse that I immediately passed off to someone else. I ended up eating more than one brownie, so all in all I certainly got my money’s worth.
Then it was time to dance, and you can bet I was one of the first up on the dancefloor! I had decided that since this was a onetime occasion and I had nowhere to be for the next few days, I might as well go full out and enjoy myself. I naively assumed that I could ignore my energy limits.
After three years, you’d have thought I would have learnt by now…
But I was not to be stopped and I dropped it low on the dancefloor – much easier with high heels as the leg muscles have less work to do – to some classic 2012 hits and spun and jumped and shimmied my way into an asthma attack.
I should clarify at this point that I do not actually have asthma (though I shouldn’t tempt the devil by saying such things) but I had clearly pissed off my body sufficiently that it resorted to drastic measures. It had tried to warn me gently a few times that enough is enough – aching feet, stitch, out of breath, slight back pain, heartbeat out of control, dizziness… I could go on – but since I had ignored all the warning signs it had started banging pots and pans together to get my attention.
Now that I was quite short of breath and it had reached ten thirty, I decided that I had had my fun and that it would be a sensible time to catch a taxi home. Then my breath decided to get a little shorter despite drinking water and sitting down and I began to panic ever so slightly. I went upstairs to get a little cool air, having said my goodbyes to many and various, and was lucky enough to come across E – another Kpop friend and my spoonie buddy – who immediately proffered her inhaler.
This helped with the breathing situation, but it was becoming alarmingly clear that my body was not even halfway done with its little tantrum. For at that moment, I started to come out in hives. Now, this was not the first time I had experienced that dreadful, full body itch of despair and past mistakes – many a nut reaction had induced the same effect. However, I could not for the life of me figure out why I was being cursed with it today.
I had specifically requested a nut free meal, and double checked every course. Hell, I had even eaten two and a half brownies! (Not that that is much of an indication as I have been known to have terrible self-restraint at times). I had no other symptoms (which I suppose I must be thankful for) so it couldn’t have been a nut reaction.
I hastily took some piriteze (I carry them with me everywhere in anticipation of future stupidity) and geared myself up for going home. I was faced with a walk through the dark to the nearest busy road to find a taxi, or waiting long enough for my parents to come pick me up (by this time they had returned from Cambridge). Neither seemed appealing due to the heel situation and my desperation to crawl out of my own skin respectively. I did not feel I could wait any longer before getting in a hot shower and dousing myself in Aloe Vera, but I also suddenly had no energy.
Thankfully help arrived in the form of E’s father as she had also decided to call it a night, and in her naturally mother hen way had taken it upon herself to get me home safe. He drove us back to my house to drop me off and I was hastily bundled into the shower by a loving mother. Soon enough I was back in a cool bed and significantly less itchy.
It was only later, when I mentioned the whole debacle to my specialist, that she revealed the source of my suffering: mould and dust. That’s right ladies, gentlemen and non-binary babes, I had an allergic reaction to a museum.
Not my finest moment.
-Mod H
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Sweet Lies 5
(A/N:  This is not how dual citizenship between the US and South Korea works.  Suspend your disbelief, dear Reader.  Also, this is chapter 5 of an in progress fic, the links for which can be found on my mistresslist.)
Baekhyun’s eyes shone when he picked you up, looking appreciatively up and down your tempting figure.  You were wearing a loose ice blue silk button down blouse, tucked into a figure-hugging, high-waisted, charcoal-and-ice-pinstripe pencil skirt that hit you just below the knee.  Your thick, wavy hair was gathered over one shoulder, leaving the side of your neck bare to his gaze.  You were grateful that you had taken the time to go thriftwhoring that morning, and were in clothes that made you feel more like the “you” you had been before you had  given up.  Charcoal stilettos that you hadn’t worn since university completed the look, but still put you an inch below him.  
The small of your back was warmed by the delicate pressure of Baekhyun’s hand as he gently led you through the doors of the Mercier Fine Art Museum, where they were having an exhibit on The Modern Reclamation of the Power of Women topos, with paintings on loan from around the world.  You wriggled playfully in excitement, beaming up at him when he looked down questioningly.
“I love museums,” you whispered confidentially, causing him to chuckle indulgently.  “I haven’t been to one since I graduated.  I’m so excited!”
He nodded, his eyes scanning the room before coming to rest on your face.  “You really are a nerd, aren’t you?”
You went to punch him on the shoulder, but stopped yourself just in time, and let your hand fall back to your side.  “Says the man who attended Vanderbilt and Cornell.”
“So, we’re both nerds,” he said comfortably, his thumb gently stroking the base of your spine.  “Which exhibit would you like to see first?”
“The Klimt.”
He guided you through the doorway on your right, into the Klimt exhibit. You gasped softly to yourself as you both came to stand in front of Klimt’s The Kiss. “Oh!  It’s lovely…”
Baekhyun spared the painting a glance, turning slightly to look at you while you looked up at the work in wonder.  “Indeed,” he said quietly, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of your profile.
You continued to look at the painting, eyes moving back and forth as you tried to commit every inch to memory.  “Klimt is one of my favourite artists.”
He nodded.  “I prefer modern art, but I can acknowledge the appeal.”
You wrinkled your nose, glancing at him briefly, before turning your eyes back to the painting in front of you.  “Modern art is so cold.  So calculating.  For the most part, anyway.”
“Not cold.  Clean.  Neat.”
“Well, you may just have to teach me to appreciate it.  I can’t say that I do right now.”
He smiled, looking thoughtful. “That would be a pleasure.  There are a lot of things that I would love to teach you.”
You grinned cheekily.  “How do you know that I don’t know them already?”
He grinned mischievously.  Reworking his query from the previous day, “So, you know everything I know?”
You tsked and pouted.  “What if there are things that I want to teach you?”
He laughed loudly, then looked chastened when the security guard gave him a glare. “I learn well,” he stage-whispered, as he led you away from The Kiss.
You smiled up at him, allowing the soft press of his hand to guide you to Klimt’s next work, Danae.  You bit your lip to hold back a squeal.  “It’s gorgeous!”
He tilted his head, considering.  “I think that I can appreciate this one a bit more.”
You looked up at him as he studied the painting.  “What do you like about this one?”
He shook his head.  “I’m not an art critic.  I don’t really analyze it.  I just…like what I like.  If it strikes me as pretty, I like it.  I don’t think about why.”
You nodded, looking back at the painting.  “I can verbalize why I like it, but I agree with you.  It all boils down to, I like it, because I like it.  That’s enough. Taking it apart is just justification after the fact.”
“Well, now I’m curious.  Why do you like it?”
“Mmm, first of all I love the juxtaposition, which you also find in The Kiss, of comfort and discomfort.  Look at how she’s positioned.  It looks unnatural, and cramped, but look at her face; it’s blissful.  I also love the way he creates texture in his paintings.  Look at the veil. Doesn’t it look real, like you could reach out and pull it from the painting?  Another thing that I find fascinating about most of his work is the contrast of styles, within the same paintings.  For example, her hair looks like a painting, but the veil looks real.  The Kiss almost looks as if he painted the figures, and then put fabric, and gold overlay over them.  Something about that contrast just pulls at something inside of me.  I don’t know; I’m weird.  I’m probably not making sense.”
“No, I understand.  We’re drawn to opposites. Sweet and sour, light and dark, pain and pleasure.  It’s not weird at all.  I’m afraid that I think you’re quite normal, pet.”
“Give me time.”
You tried to hold in your excitement as you moved to the next painting, but a little bounce escaped, causing him to bite his lip to hold back another burst of laughter.  You groaned.  “Oh, now this…this is my favourite one,” you said, your hands reaching out to clutch air, as you make cute little grasping motions.  You both looked up at Judith and the Head of Holofernes.  “Do you know the story behind the painting?”
Baekhyun smiled ruefully.  “Not really.”
You smiled up at him.  “Well, it’s part of the Apocrypha, which are the books that didn’t make it into the Bible, due to their being of doubtful origin.  Anyway, in the story, there’s this widow, Judith, who gains the trust of Holofernes, an enemy Assyrian general, by promising to give him information on the Israelites’ plans for battle.  So one night, she goes to his tent, finds him dead drunk…and decapitates him.”  Here, you smiled again, looking back at the painting.  Almost reverently, you whisper, “She takes his head back to her camp, and the Assyrians, without their leader, flee in defeat.”
Baekhyun’s eyes roved over your rapt face, lit with a beatific smile as you recounted the dark tale.  He smiled affectionately at you as your eyes took in the graceful lines of the painting.  “You’re…kind of bloodthirsty, aren’t you?”
Your smile changed to an introspective one.  You sighed, glanced back at him, and then slowly began to walk to the next exhibit.  “Only to the deserving.”
He followed you, his eyes lazily trailing from your ankles all the way up to the crown of your head.  He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Just my style.”
You both wandered through the rest of the Klimt exhibit before making your way over to the Caravaggio display.  You gasped and hurried over to Caravaggio’s Judith Beheading Holofernes.  “They have multiple versions of this in the exhibition?!  Oh…” Sucking in a breath, you looked up in satisfaction at the image, biting your lip as your eyes took in the rich reds, and elegant chiascuro of the work.
Baekhyun came to stand behind you, replacing his hand on the small of your back, which you barely noticed, so enrapt were you with the painting.  He looked up at the far more graphic representation of the tale.  After a pause, “Should I be worried?”
“Are you currently planning to wage war against the Israelites?”
“It’s not on my to-do list.”
“Then you may keep your head.”
“Thank you.”
“I am beneficent in all my ways.”  You paused, and then gestured to the painting.  “Just look at that red.  That is my favourite colour.”  You suddenly shivered, the thin silk of your shirt doing nothing to insulate you against the glacial temperatures of the museum.  Baekhyun looked at you in concern.
“Are you cold?”
“Of course not,” you bluffed.
He glanced down to see goosebumps sweeping across your skin, see the way you unconsciously hugged your arms around your waist in an unsuccessful effort to warm yourself.  “Here,” he said, taking off his suit jacket and draping it over your shoulders.
“Really, I’m fine—“ you started, but then involuntarily closed your eyes, sighing in appreciation of the left over body heat from his jacket.
He raised an eyebrow.  “Fine?”
You settled gratefully into the warm jacket.  “Perhaps, I…was a bit…chilled.  Thank you.  Aren’t you going to be cold, though?”
“Well, I’m still wearing an undershirt, a shirt, and a vest, so I’m fine.”  He looked down at you, looking up at him, your doe-like eyes blinking at him over the collar of the jacket as you burrowed into it, up to your nose.  “You are so cute!”
You blushed, and looked down shyly.  You started to thank him when you glanced into the next room, and something that caught your eye.  You sucked in an incredulous breath.  “They have Gentileschi?!”
Anticipating your next move, he gently guided you out of the Caravaggio exhibit into the Gentileschi room, where you stood between Judith Slaying Holofernes and Jael and Sisera one hand to your mouth, eyes hungrily looking back and forth between the paintings, as if unable to choose which to consume first.  You decided to start with the Judith.
“Which version do you prefer?”
You sighed in contemplation.  After a moment, “The Gentileschi, hands down. It’s the most visceral; it delivers the highest impact.  Also, look at her expression compared to Caravaggio’s, and Klimt’s Judiths. Klimt depicted her erotically, while Caravaggio depicted her as almost timid, even as she’s right in the middle of beheading Holofernes.  The expression on Gentileschi’s Judith is the most realistic, I think. Repelled, but determined.  Also, look at her maidservant.  I mean, she’s really getting in there.  That’s loyalty.  That’s teamwork.”
“I would like to revise my earlier assertion.”
“Oh?”
“You are weird.”
“Thank you.”
***
The sun hung heavy in the sky when you emerged from the museum.   You divested yourself of Baekhyun’s jacket, handing it back to him with a grateful smile.
He took it from you, smiling as he eased into it.  “It smells like you.”
You looked at him in horror.  “I’m sorry!”
“Don’t be sorry.  I like the way you smell.  Like fresh cut lemons, and pretty girl.”
“What does pretty girl smell like?”
“You.”
“I should have seen that one coming.”
“You really should have.”
He guided you to one of the shaded benches under the trees.  “Ah, it’s so hot!”
You leaned back on your arms, taking note of the temperature. “It’s not that bad, now that the sun is going down.”    
“Wait a moment, I’ll be right back.”  
While he was gone, you tipped back your head, soaking in the dying rays of the sun, and listened to the cheerful babble of the small brook that ran through the trees beside the museum’s picnic area.  The leftover heat of the day seeped into your bones, making you feel like a lizard, and you were just starting to drift when–
“This is a pretty sight.”
You lazily opened your eyes to see Baekhyun standing in front of you with an obscenely large soft serve cone.  You raised an eyebrow.  “Where did you get that?”
“The museum cafeteria.  I’m hungry.”
You smiled, ruffling his hair as he sat next to you.
“You know you’re going to help me finish this, right?” he said, eyeing you over the cone.
“I thought that you said that you were hungry.”
“I’m hungry, not suicidal.  This thing is huge.”  You snorted.  “I wasn’t sure which you’d like, so I got swirl.”
“I like vanilla, but a little bit of chocolate with it is nice.”
“Perfect.  I like chocolate, with a little vanilla.”
“Are you just saying that?”
“No, I really do like chocolate.  And vanilla.  And strawberry.  And caramel.  And–”
“I get the point,” you laughed.
He handed one of the spoons to you, and you both went to town on the rapidly melting cone, giggling as you tried to eat it before it dripped all over his hand.
“So, Baekhyunnie,” you started, as you casually licked ice cream off of your spoon, “Tell me more about Byun Baekhyun. The man, the mystery, the legend. Tell me something interesting.”
He thought for a moment, cheek pouched adorably with a store of chocolate soft serve.  “I was actually born in South Korea.”
“What?!  Really?!”
He grinned, pleased at having surprised you.  “I moved to the US when I was 11, and I have dual citizenship.”
“That’s pretty neat.”
“I’ve never heard of my dual citizenship being described as neat before.”
You shrugged.  “What can I say?  I’m easily impressed.  Impress me some more.”
“I’ve…served in the military?”
“Really?!”
He nodded, chest puffing unconsciously.  “Mmm, right after high school. It’s mandatory for men in South Korea so, since I wasn’t willing to renounce citizenship, I just went back and did it.”
“What was it like?”
Baekhyun grimaced.  “I, in my finite wisdom, decided to enter the Marine Corps, since that’s the manliest branch, right?”  He laughed.  “They kicked my butt so bad, I coughed up my coccyx.”
Your eyes widened.  “They beat you up?!”
“No, no, nothing like that.  It was just a lot more physically demanding than I had anticipated.  To be honest, I’m glad that I did it, though. It made me a stronger person, I made friends that I otherwise never would have, and I learned a lot of useful skills.”
“What you did…when we first met…did you learn that in the military?”
He shook his head.  “Actually, no.  I have a fifth degree black belt in hapkido. I’ve been studying it since I was six.”
“Oh, wow.  So you know how to kill me with a napkin?”
He tossed you a cheeky smile, and leaned forward until there was only an inch of space between you.  “I’d rather kiss you to death.”
You turned away, face burning, as you tried to control a goofy grin.  You raised your hand to gently punch his shoulder, thought better of it, and then dropped it in your lap.  “That was so cheesy,” you muttered instead, trying to hide your amusement.
“You liked it.”  He offered you the rest of the cone, which you turned down, not wanting to accidentally spill melted ice cream on your shirt.  Shrugging, he opened his mouth and inhaled it in one go.  
You bit your lip, trying not to laugh at his chipmunk cheeks as he studiously crunched.  
He grinned at you, then stood to throw away the spoons and napkins. Returning, he held out his hand to help you off the bench, and then once again rested it against the small of your back, as he led you to his car.  
You wanted to say something cheeky about way he had been guiding you about all day but, if you were honest with yourself, you really enjoyed it; you didn’t want him to stop.  
He turned to you after you were both back in the car.  “I was thinking that we could go down to the floating pier at Miller’s Park, and just chat a bit more, before I take you home?”
Nodding, you rested your hand on his forearm as he shifted gears.  “I’d like that.”
***
You both sat on the swinging bench, your bare feet brushing softly over the cool grass as he used one foot to push the swing.
He looked down at your naked feet happily kicking in the air, as you swung.  “You’re like a little gypsy.”
Shrugging, you said, “I like to be barefoot as much as possible.  I can’t be tamed.”
He grinned, then nodded to your feet.  “Is it nice?”
“Bare feet on soft grass?  It’s the best.”
“Aren’t you worried of stepping on something sharp?”
“I have before.  It’s not the end of the world.  It hurts, you heal, and you get over it.”
“Shall I?”
“Please do.”  He took off his shoes and socks, and gingerly rested his feet on the bare grass.  “It’s nice, isn’t it?” you teased.
“It is nice.”
“See?  I taught you something new.”
He rested his arm on the bench, behind your shoulders.  “So…”
“Mm?”
“I was thinking.”
“Yes?”
“How about you go out with me again this Friday?”
“Okay.”  He smiled in satisfaction.  “Oh, wait, no!  I can’t!”
He pouted, sliding his hand into your lap to wrap around yours.  “Why not?”
“I’m supposed to go to a thing with my best friend on Friday night.  Her boyfriend is out of town, but she has been wanting to go for weeks, and I can’t let her go by herself.”
He nodded.  “You’re very loyal.”
“That’s my curse.”
“What about Saturday?”
You shook your head flirtatiously.  “I don’t know.  It depends.  What do you want to do?”
“Spend time with you.”
“Hm.  Sounds good.  Count me in.”
“It’s a date.”  He leisurely stroked the back of your hand with his thumb.  “So, tell me about your family.”
“I just have two older brothers, Jameson, and Keegan.  Well, they’re my half brothers, but they’re my brothers, you know?  They’re annoying, overprotective, annoying, sweet, annoying, thoughtful, did I mention annoying?” You sighed.  “I love them.”
“Do they help you with your dad?”
“No, they’re my mother’s sons, from her first marriage.  Her first husband was a soldier, and died overseas.  What about you?”
“I’m the eldest.  I have three sisters, and a younger brother, all of whom live in various parts of the world.”
“Do you miss them?”
“A little.”
“I would miss my brothers terribly if they left the state.”
“That’s because you’re a delicate flower,” he teased.
You snorted.  “That’s certainly not true!”
“A dainty bloom.”
“You can shut all the way up.”
“A fragile blossom.”
“How many synonyms are you going to go through?”
“That’s all I’ve got.”
You started to push him playfully, but then caught yourself, and lowered your hand.
He frowned.  Tentatively, “I’ve noticed you start to touch me a few times, and then stop.  What’s wrong?”
You shook your head.  “You’ve noticed me start to hit you a few times, and then stop.”
“Why’d you stop?”
“You want me to hit you?” you asked dubiously.
“Well, it’s not like you’re about to punch me in the face.  I like it when you’re playful.  It’s cute.”  You shook your head, and looked away, your expression shadowed.  “What’s wrong?  Did I say something wrong?”
“Of course not!  It’s just…when I was younger, I used to be very physically playful—I was a tomboy.  I used to love play-wrestling, and I would hit my brothers when we were joking around, that sort of thing.  But one day, when I was 19, Jameson told me to stop hitting him–that it was unfeminine, that I was always so violent, and that he didn’t appreciate being touched like that.  I was kind of surprised, considering he’s the one who taught me how to wrestle, and I had never hit anyone in anger. But…I said ‘Okay.  I’ll never touch you again,’ and from that day to this, I never have.”
“So, your brother’s a jerk?”
You blew out a breath.  “He was right.  I shouldn’t hit people.  It’s uncouth.”
He leaned forward, taking his hand from behind you and running it frustratedly through his hair, before curling it back around your shoulders, and pulling you almost imperceptibly toward him. “You weren’t going around pile-driving people. People give friends and family love taps all the time!  It’s part of the human experience.  And unfeminine? Since when is he the arbiter of what constitutes femininity?  If he didn’t want you to interact with him that way anymore, that’s fine, but there are nicer ways to say it than he did.”
“Wow.  You, uh, feel really passionately about love-taps, huh?”
He subsided, cracking his neck, and leaning back.  “Sorry.  I just…feel…a little protective.”
“Of me?!”
“Of course!  I like you, and I don’t like seeing you upset.  Listen,” here he lifted the hand that he had been holding, and used it to roughly tap his chest.  “I can take everything you’ve got.  You don’t have to feel inhibited around me.”  His hand moved to your wrist, and relaxed, the weight of it causing your hand to open against his chest and slowly drag down.
You stared wide-eyed at your hand, splayed across his chest, feeling the firm muscles ripple under his clothes as he breathed.   You were suddenly very aware of his proximity, of his arm resting lightly against your shoulder blades, of his heart beating under your palm.  Swallowing involuntarily, you felt his eyes on your face, but you were too shy to meet them.  So, you turned to gaze at the glittering light the gibbous moon cast on the water.  You felt Baekhyun return your hand to your lap.
“So…” he started.
“So…”
“Is this awkward?”
You thought for a moment, then shook your head.  “No.  No.  It’s…nice.  I think I like it.”
***
90’s alternative blasted through the club speakers as Suzy wrapped her arms around your neck, slowly undulating to the beat.  Your arms were around her waist, your eyes closed as you moved to the driving cellos of Rasputina’s Transylvanian Concubine.
You were two drinks into the night, and feeling pretty mellow as you danced to the sultry music of your childhood.  A few minutes later, the song ended, and you and Suzy jumped up and down in delight.
“That was my favourite song!” you yelled, trying to make yourself heard over the stripped lo-fi drumbeat of Virgin State of Mind.
“I know!  I didn’t think that they’d play the indie stuff, too!”
“That’s why this club’s 90’s Night is the best.  You can even make requests.  The DJ is pretty cool.”
“Oh, do you know her?”
“We’ve hung out a bit.  I’ll introduce you later, if you like.”
You nodded, looking up at the DJ booth to look at the tall brunette, arms snaked with tattoos, silver nose ring glinting, side shave freshly cut. “Ugh, she’s so pretty!”
“So are you,” a smooth voice whispered, entirely too intimately in your ear.  You shivered in distaste, involuntarily turning as hands reached around you to remove your arms from your friend’s waist, and spin you in the opposite direction.  A tall, oily, middle aged man looked down at you.  Well, down at some parts of you, anyway.  His thick black hair was shellacked with product, and his shirt was half unbuttoned, showing a toned, but disturbingly shiny chest.  He had probably once been handsome, but bloodshot eyes, and a fine network of broken capillaries across his nose whispered that dissipation had begun to take its toll.
“Sorry guy, I’m not interested,” you said, shaking your head, and removing his hand from your wrist.
Suzy came to stand behind you, wrapping her arms possessively around your waist, and resting her chin on your shoulder, her black hair falling in a curtain over your arm.  “Sorry, this one’s taken.”
He held up his hands, grinning.  “Oh, two for the price of one.”
Your temper flared.  “No, none for the price of nothing.  Move along, old man.”
He held a hand to his heart in mock pain.  “Aw, come on, I just want to get to know you.  Would you like a drink?”
“She’s fine,” Suzy said shortly.
“I asked her,” he said with attitude.
You raised an eyebrow.  “I’m fine.”  You rolled your eyes, as he looked you up and down, biting his lip.  From which scum soaked swamp slogged this caricature, anyway?
“In that skirt, you certainly are!”  You had let Suzy dress you tonight, and she had chosen a flouncy black lace mini skirt, over a long-sleeved black lace shirt, and thigh-high, lace-up leather boots.
You decided to take the high road.  “Listen, whatever you’re looking for tonight, I hope you find it, but we’re not really interested in anything like that.”
He sighed heavily, shaking his head.  “Alright.  Take it easy.”
“You, too!” you chirped with false friendliness.
“Ugh, what a creeper,” Suzy said, as he sauntered off in search of fresh strange.  You nodded, leaning back to confidentially let her know that you had to use the bathroom.  “Alright, I’m going to get another shot.”
***
Your eyes scanned the crowd, looking for Suzy after you emerged from the bathroom.  Darn her and her tiny, birdlike bones.  You should start putting bells on her.  Starting for the bar, you figured that you’d begin your search there.  A strong hand grasped you by the wrist, and pulled you backwards.  For a split second, you let it, thinking that it was Suzy, but you quickly realized that her hands were much smaller than the one that was tugging you.  You turned to see the same greasy guy from earlier, a cocky grin on his face.
“Got rid of your little girlfriend, I see.  Wanna dance?”
You ripped your wrist from his grip, hissing in anger.  “I already said no.  Don’t touch me again!”
“Come on, baby!  Just one dance.”  His eyes roved hungrily up and down your body. “I’ll buy you a drink.”
“I don’t want a drink!”
His eyes shot above your head as you felt an arm snake its way across your neck, while another slid across your hips, pulling you back against a very hot, very taut body that gently, comfortingly rocked you from side to side.  Warm breath sighed past your ear, and you smiled in recognition.  You leaned your head back against a broad shoulder, turning to look at look at the side of Baekhyun’s face, as he smiled darkly at the finally silent stranger.
“Is the old man bothering you, pet?”
You lazily shook your head in negation, smiling up at him.  His eyes dropped to you, and then he turned you around, your bodies in profile. You reached up, and lightly raked your nails down side of his face, leaving livid red stripes against the warm gold.  He closed his eyes, jaw hardening against the slight pain.  Seeing his expression, you stood on your toes, slipping your hand to cradle the back of his head, while wrapping your other around his shoulder, pulling him closer to you, so that you could gently bite the side of his jaw. Baekhyun growled low, and then lifted his head, bringing his mouth close to yours, snarling softly as you undulated against him, your open mouth sending warm air over his, as you returned the snarl.  He lowered his forehead to yours, and all you could see was black, black, black as you looked up into his eyes. You smiled a wolfish smile and, in unison, you turned your heads toward the man who wouldn’t leave you alone.
“Any questions?” Baekhyun queried.
After a lengthy pause, the man came up with a response he thought the height of wit.  “I didn’t want you, anyway,” he muttered, backing away, and quickly disappearing into the crowd.
You hid your face in Baekhyun’s chest, your body shaking as you tried, unsuccessfully, to hold back giggles.
“Shhh!” he admonished.  “You’re going to blow our cover!”  He pulled you behind one of the club’s carved pillars, holding you tightly as you laughed hysterically.
“Did you see his face?!” you guffawed.
“It was priceless!”
You stopped laughing long enough to imitate the man’s stunned expression, and you both doubled over, holding your stomachs, and whooping.  You looked up at him, his mouth wide with laughter, and noticed how red the side of his face was.  “Oh, wait, wait!”  You lifted a hand to his reddened cheek, caressing the skin.  “Did I hurt you?”
He smiled, “Nah, it looks worse than it is.  I’m easily marked, remember?”
You nodded, but then another thought occurred to you.  “What are you doing here?”
He looked around, and then gestured toward the bar.  “You see my guy over there?”
Your eyes scanned the bar in the general direction of his hand until you saw a man slumped over with a drink in his hand.  You nodded.
“His girlfriend just broke up with him, and…here we are.”  He cocked his head, and sucked in a breath through his teeth.  “By the looks of it, I don’t think that I’m doing a very good job of cheering him up.”
You playfully tugged at the lapels of his black jacket, then slipped your hand inside to pull him closer to you, your palm sliding over the warm silk of his black dress shirt.  “You’re cheering me up marvelously.”
“Whoa,” he grinned, tapping your nose.  “Someone’s been in the sauce.  Feeling a bit tipsy, are we?”
You crinkled your nose, then pouted.  “I’ve had two whole drinks!”
“I’ve had two whole drinks!” he mocked.
You laughed and then stomped your foot.  “Don’t imitate me!”
“Don’t imitate me!”  
You snorted, and swatted a hand over his jean-clad bottom. He grinned mischievously, looking at you sideways.  “I guess I’ll have to give you back to him, huh?” you pouted.  Just then Suzy walked up, looking between the two of you uncertainly.  “Suzy!” you said, throwing your arms around her, and pulling her closer.  You leaned over and whispered in her ear, “This is Baekhyun.”
She surveyed him coolly up and down, and held out her hand.  “Suzy.”
He shook it with a charming grin, “Byun Baekhyun.  I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Suzy gave him a cold smile.  “I’ve heard a lot about you, too.
You hissed, and bumped her with your hip, giving her a look.  Be nice!
She looked back at you.  I am being nice!
You pouted.
She narrowed her eyes, and then rolled them, throwing an arm around your shoulders.  “Look, Byun, I’m sure that you’re a really nice guy, and I’m all ready to love you, but I have to tell you, if you hurt my best friend, I’m coming for you.”
Baekhyun smiled angelically.  “If I hurt her, you have full permission to put your Louboutin so far up my butt, I taste shoe polish.”
Suzy grimaced, side-eyeing you.  “Sooo gross.  You two are actually made for each other.”
You grinned, and turned your attention back to Baekhyun.  “Why don’t you invite your friend to hang out with us?
He made a face, and then said, “Let me go talk to him for a minute.”
You watched him as he walked off, eyeing him as he smoothly moved through the crowd.  Leaning toward Suzy, you said confidentially, “I hate to see him go, but I love to watch him walk away.”
She turned to you.  “You, my friend, are cut off for the rest of the night.  You are such a lightweight!”
You gave her a brilliant grin, glancing at Baekhyun as he threw his arm around his friend.  “Sometimes I want to sink my teeth into his bottom, like a peach.”
“I don’t want to hear about your perverted fantasies.”
Dreamily, “His shoulders are so wide, and strong.  He really knows how to fill out a suit well, if you know what I mean.”
Suzy glanced toward the bar.  “I’m not entirely sure that I do.”
“You know what else?  I can’t stop thinking about how good his thighs would look in tight black leather pants.”
“Down, girl.”
“No, seriously, though, just look at them.  He has the thighs of a mythical Greek hero.”
She squinted, then looked back at you incredulously.  “Just what did they put in those shots?!”
“What’s so confusing is that he’s simultaneously so hot, and so cute.  Have you seen his upper lip?  It’s like a baby’s!  It’s so pink and delicate. I don’t know if I want to kiss him, or stuff his mouth with sweets.  I’m so conflicted.”
“That’s why I like you,” she said drily.  “You really get to the heart of the hard-hitting questions of our age.”
“Okay, did I not listen to you wax rhapsodic about your precious boyfriend’s Adam’s apple?
“Valid.”
“Thank you.”  You sucked in a breath, “I know that we’ve only been on two dates, and okay, maybe part of it is because he saved my life, but something about him is driving me crazy.  He’s so perfect that it’s scary.”
“Everyone feels that way in the beginning.  It’s called infatuation.”
You gave her a look.  “Are you really trying to give me a psych lesson?”
“No, I’m just trying to be the voice of reason.”
“Isn’t that my job?”
“Which is why this is so scary!”
You laughed.  “Don’t worry.  I know I sound obsessed, but I’m just enjoying being in crush.  It has been…years.  I didn’t think that it was ever going to happen again.”
Her eyes softened.  “I told you that it would.”
Sighing, “I know, but just someone says something doesn’t make it true. Especially if they love you.”
She was silent for a moment.  Then, “Okay.  Logic-Suzy is gone.  Let’s perv.”
You turned to her, grinning.  “He usually wears these three piece suits to work, and he looks so delicious that I just want to tie him down, blindfold him with his own tie, and—“
Suzy glanced up, eyes widening with panic, and then clapped a hand over your mouth.  You mrphed indignantly.  “Hi, Baekhyun! Welcome back!” she said brightly.
Your eyes widened as you heard his amused voice behind you.
“No, no, no, move your hand.  I want to see where this goes.”
“Why doesn’t the earth ever open up and swallow you when you want it to?” you moaned, turning to him, with your head hung low in shame.
Baekhyun smiled sweetly, looking at you as if you were the cutest thing in the world.  Leaning forward, he whispered in your ear.  “Don’t feel bad. That pencil skirt that you were wearing at the museum caused me to have a few inappropriate thoughts of my own.”
You felt your face flame, and you floundered to change the subject before you could go into a full-body blush.  “Uh…so…what about your friend?!”
He shook his head, and gestured behind him.  You peered over his shoulder to find his friend had gone.  “He decided that drinking his sorrows wasn’t the healthiest idea, so he’s going to go home, and drown them in ice-cream, instead.”
“Shouldn’t you go with him?” you asked.
“Nah.  He mumbled something incoherent, but the general gist was that at least one of us should be happy.”  He raised his eyes to look at both you and Suzy.  “Are you hungry?”
You and she looked at each other, reading each other’s thoughts.  Hours of dancing had made you both ravenous. She answered for the two of you.  “Starving.”
He gestured to a booth near a quiet corner that had just opened.  “Let me get us something to eat.”
Suzy raised an eyebrow.  “I like you better, already.”
***
The table was littered with partially-drunken glasses of liquour, empty bottles of cider, and well picked-over dishes, most of which belonged to Suzy.  You and Baekhyun slipped out of the booth, leaving a very unconscious Suzy to sleep off her alcohol haze.  Before you could spirit him away to the dance floor, he took off his jacket, and laid it over the gently snoring body of your best friend, covering her bare legs. Your heart throbbed at the conscientious gesture.
“To be so tiny, she can really put it away,” Baekhyun whispered incredulously.
“That’s her charm.”  You clasped his hand in both of yours while Shirley Manson’s voice purred seductively over the speakers.   Walking backwards, you pulled him through the crowd, his eyes on yours as you guided him to the dance floor. Once you sensed a clear spot, you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him close, and tilted back your head to look up at him. “…I lose what I love most…Did you know I was lost until you found me?…”  “Do you have any idea how glad I am to see you tonight?”
His arms tightened around your waist at your whispered words.  He smiled down at you, face full of satisfaction as his eyes lazily roamed your face.  “Do you have any idea how glad I am that you’re glad to see me?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
His eyes darkened as he looked inward at some unpleasant memory.  “Some people want to claim you, but still play around behind your back.”
You sighed deeply, swaying to the music like a slender reed in the summer breeze.  “That’s not my style.  I’m not built to cheat.”  You scrunched your nose, and wriggled your hips, making him laugh.  “I’m built for comfort, not for speed.”
“Good girl,” he said, firmly patting your lower back.
“So…is there a story there?”
“Isn’t there always?”
You leaned closer, gently caressing his jaw, and watching the emotions play over his face.  “Tell me?”
He shook his head, eyes closed.  “She doesn’t matter.  You’re here, now.”
You tilted his head down, capturing his eyes when he opened them.  “What about you, Baekhyunnie?  Are you faithful?”  “…You say that you’ll be there to catch me… Or will you only try to trap me?”
He leaned forward and nuzzled his nose to yours, causing you to smile.  “I couldn’t cheat–wouldn’t even want to.  I think that an unbreakable connection between two people is the most beautiful thing in the world.”
Your sigh of content ghosted over his mouth.  You closed your eyes, letting his sweet words sink past your slight inebriation to touch the cold, dark place deep inside.  “Stroke of luck, or gift from God?  Hand of fate, or devil’s claws?  From below, or saints above, you come to me…”  You slowly shook your head.  “What’s wrong with you?”
He raised his eyebrows.  “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what’s wrong with you?  You present as perfect, so I know that there has to be some sort of nasty little secret you’re keeping deep down in the dark.”
He looked away from you, and smiled.  “I…like eating crackers in bed.”
You gasped.  “Shameful!”  Turning in his arms, you wrapped his hands back around your waist, rolling your body to the music.  His breath hitched, and you smiled to yourself.  “What else?  You heard him swallow hard before continuing.
“Sometimes I open snacks and eat them while I’m shopping.”
“Do you still pay for them?”
“Of course!”
“Well, then, that’s alright.”
“I’m trying to confess here, pet.”
“What else ya got?”
“I’m stubborn.”
“You don’t say!”
He chuckled.  “Well, what about you?  What are your darkest secrets?”
You pondered.  “Once, when I was six, I accidentally stole a candy bar…”
“You little criminal!”
You slapped him on the arm.  “Shut up!  I still feel guilty about it!”
“How does one accidentally steal a candy bar?”
“I thought that my dad said, ‘Yes’, when I asked if I could have it, but he was saying ‘Yes’ to someone else with whom he was talking.”
“That’s not so much stealing as a misunderstanding.”
“He threatened to send me to jail.”
“At six?!”
“Well, he didn’t believe in corporal punishment, so he did the most drastic thing that he could think of, to leave an impression.”  You laughed. “By the end of it, he was ‘crying’ more than I was, at the idea of having to be separated from me, due to my impending jail time.  So, we made a pact that he wouldn’t tell, so that I could stay with him.”
“Unsure if that’s adorable, or horrifying.”
“It’s a ‘look back and laugh’.” Baekhyun just smiled uncertainly.  “I guess you had to be there,” you said awkwardly.
He spun you around, running his hands from your shoulders down to your waist, rocking his body from side to side to the beat.
“You’ve got some pretty sweet moves, there, Byun.”
“You’re a pretty good dancer, too.”
“Eh, just because these are all slow songs.  What I lack in rhythm, I make up for in enthusiasm.”
He smiled, shaking his head.  “Don’t try to distract me, pet.  You were busy baring your soul.”
“Ah, yes.  Let’s see…”  You leaned up to whisper in his ear.  “I cheated on an Econ exam once.”
He looked shocked.  “Wow!  I really am dating a criminal.”
You blushed.  “I had to take first year Econ as a requirement for PoliSci, and I had no idea what I was doing, so…”  You shrugged.  “I cheated just enough to pass the exam–I wasn’t trying for an A, or anything.  I even left a question blank.  After the papers were passed back out, the professor called me up to the front–I just knew that I was going to be busted–but he just yelled at me for the question that I left blank.  He said that he knew that non-Econ majors had to take the class, as part of their major’s reqs, so he took that into account when he graded, and would go easy on us.  He told me that if I put anything, anything at all that related to econ, he could give me some points for it, but if I left something blank, he’d have no choice but to give me a zero.  I skated by his class with a B-, and I’m still grateful for it.  That man was a saint.”
“That was really nice of him.”
“I know!”
“You’re still a lawless hooligan, though.”
“I’m bad to the bone, baby!  What’s it like dating a bad girl?”
“I don’t know. I’ll tell you when I find one.”
“Contrarian!”  You leaned over and nipped his shoulder.  
He laughed, his eyes shining.  “What else?”
“That’s it.”
“That’s it?!”
“Those are my deepest, darkest secrets.”
He reached up to gently stroke your hair.  “You are a good girl.”
Wrinkling your nose, you moved your head away from his hand.  “Make no mistake, Byun.  I’m not a good girl.  I’m a nice girl.  There’s a distinct difference.”
He pulled you a little closer, causing you to blush at the intimate contact, and you were thankful that the darkness of the club hid the heat in your cheeks.  “What is the difference?”
“I pretty much always follow all the rules.  But I don’t always enjoy it.” You waved a hand airily.  “I keep my evil on the inside.”
“What rules would you like to break?”
“I wish that I could say what I actually think, instead of being polite, and politic all the time.”
“Everyone feels like that, pet.”
You flirtatiously pressed closer, letting him feel your curves slide against him as you slowly danced.  Standing on your toes, you drew close to whisper in his ear.  “Are you trying to convince me that I’m actually a good girl, after all?”  This time, as you drew back, you had the pleasure of watching him swallow involuntarily at your query.  
He raised his head, closing his eyes in an effort to stay in control. After a moment, he opened his eyes, and smiled down at you.  “I think that it’s time for all good little girls to be in bed.  Even you.”  You started to protest, when he sucked in a warning breath.  “It’s gone three, you’re tipsy, and I like you too much to co-sign your doing anything that you might regret tomorrow.”  He stood, holding your hands, and waiting.  After a bit of thought, you reluctantly nodded in concession, and he slipped an arm around your shoulder, and walked you back to the table where Suzy continued to peacefully snore.  “How did you get here?”
“We took an Uber.”
“Excellent.  I’ll take you both home.”
***
Baekhyun helped you carry a nominally conscious Suzy upstairs to her apartment, dropping her unceremoniously on her bed with a huff.  
You led him back to the living room couch, saying, “Wait here,” as you returned to change her into pajamas, clean off her makeup, and tuck her in.
He watched you from the couch as you quietly closed the door to her room. Standing, he reached for you, saying, “I’ll take you home, now.”
“I think that I should stay with her tonight.”
He smiled wistfully.  “You’re a loyal friend.”
“I just want to make sure she’s okay.  Take care of her if she gets sick, or anything.”
Just then, you both heard a key in the lock.  Turning, you saw Suzy’s boyfriend enter, and you skipped over to greet him with a hug. “Jongdae!  You’re back!”
He patted your back tiredly, cautiously looking over your shoulder, at Baekhyun.  “Yay, I’m back…” he said with markedly less enthusiasm.  He straightened, smiling down at you, though his gaze kept flickering behind your shoulder.   “I didn’t want to stay anothere night away from Suzy-Q, so I just drove back after the last lecture.”  Seeing the question in his eyes, you introduced them.  “Ah, so you’re the man trying to steal our little chickadee’s heart,” Jongdae laughed, ruffling your hair, as you unsuccessfully tried to push him away.
Baekhyun smiled, reaching out to gently card his fingers through your wild hair, carefully combing, and smoothing it back into place. “That’s me. And since you’re back…?” he looked at you questioningly.
You nodded.  “Sure, you can take me now.”  You turned to Jongdae, “I was going to stay with Suzy, after sending Baekhyun first, but since you’re here, I’m going to go home.”
Jongdae smiled at both of you, his eyes already starting to drift closed.  “I hate to be such a rude host, but I’ve been going since before dawn, and I’m dead…”
You got behind him, pushing him toward the bedroom.  “Go to sleep.  I’ll see you later.”
He waved vaguely over his shoulder as he entered the darkened bedroom, quietly closing the door.
You and Baekhyun tiptoed out of the apartment, and down the stairs.
“He seemed nice,” Baekhyun stated as you both slipped into his car.
“He is nice.  He’s an assistant professor of music.”
“Vocal, or instrumental.”
“Vocal.  Like you.”
“I like him already.”
You snorted, snuggling down into the plush seat.  You didn’t see Baekhyun look over at you, his gaze soft as he watched your face begin to relax into sleep.  
***
You awoke still in Baekhyun’s car, your seat pushed back, his jacket over your legs, as he gazed out his window.  Yawning, you sat up, and looked around.  “Home?”  He turned to you with a smile.  “How long have we been here?” you queried.
“I wasn’t watching the time.”
You looked at the sky, noticing the imperceptible lightening that preluded the dawn. “Why didn’t you wake me?  You must be tired!”
“I’m fine. Come on; let’s get you inside.”
He held your hand as he walked you to your door, guiding you up the steps as you practically sleep-walked across your porch.  
You unlocked the door, and then turned to give him your farewell.  After a moment, you realized that you were just staring at his chin, so you raised your head to look him in the eye.  
He leaned closer, eyes sweetly caressing your face.  
You watched him as he lowered his eyes to your mouth.
After a moment however, he seemed to come to a reluctantly made decision.  He moved his head to your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you, and giving you a warm, all-enveloping hug.  
You leaned into him, closing your eyes.  His hold was so steady, so comforting.  You could fall asleep just like this.  
With a sigh, he released you, moving back just far enough to drop a chaste kiss on your forehead.  “Goodnight, pet.”
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digiconjurer · 5 years
Text
Secret Santa - Kirakira Tamers
I don’t own digimon or Precure. But do have a merry Christmas, @junnichiedesu. For it was I, who was your Secret Santa! 
Rika Nonaka’s day began much  like any other day normally did.
She would wake up, get dressed, and try to find something for her partner to do for the day. Unlike most days, it was a weekend, making the last task irrelevant. Of course, that didn't stop her partner from making suggestions.
“You should take me and Ryo here.” Renamon explained and held up a poster. “Sure, it’s a bit out of the way, but you said the other day you wanted to travel. So here’s your chance.”
Rika let out a deep breath. While sure, she had wanted to get out of West Shinjuku and see the other parts of Japan, this wasn’t what she had in mind.
“Isn’t this from a show that aired last year or something?” she continued and got a nod in return. “Then how the heck are we supposed to get there then?”
An answer was not given to that question. Instead, Renamon held out what looked to be a purple cat thing.
“Please~” the vulpine digimon cooed, giving a wink right after. “Outside of a kiss, I won’t ask you for anything else.”
But all that remark got her was a look.
“We both know you’re going to break that promise.” Rika answered as Ryo poked his head through a nearby window. How he even got there is a good question. Probably jumped the large fence that surrounded the Nonaka’s property. Instead of you know, going to the gate.
“I heard my name. What do you need from me?” Ryo inquired and jumped on through. “Card game? Some kind of trip? A storytime, perhaps?”
Rika shot him a glare.
“None of the above.”
Ryo’s gaze fell to the floor, not really liking that answer. But you know, life sometimes isn’t that fair. Just ask Jeri. I bet she would love to remind you of the whole D-Reaper mess.
Of course, it would seem that Ryo's focus was more on Renamon's poster rather than the shouting of the narrator.
“So you were thinking here?” he remarked and got a nod. The pulling out of the D-arc followed. “Millenniummon might know a way to get there. Though, I'm not sure what his price to get us there would be.”
Right on cue, a ball of dust floated in. Though, it didn't look all too happy at the moment. He would probably prefer to appear as the weird gold dragon thing. But then he wouldn't fit.
“Silence!” the dust ball announced and turned their attention to the trio. “What is this about using me? I am the lord of time, not someone’s playtoy.”
No one answered. Instead, they were too focused on trying to decide whether or not this was the real Millenniummon or just some weird copy that Ryo was trying to pass off as the real McCoy. Which if you ask me, seems like a whole lot of work in the grand scheme of things. Better yet, where exactly was he going to get such a thing as a dustball.
“We get it!” Rika shouted and took a deep breath. “We were hoping to go here. Can you possibly take us here?”
She then pointed to her partner's poster. Millenniummon floated on over, making a brief pit stop to give his master a stink eye. Which I guess Ryo deserves? He did try and kill him at one point. Though, that was under the orders of the sovereigns, so I guess I can give that sort of a pass.
“We don't talk about that.” the dustball remarked as he gave the poster a nudge. The poster then disappeared, leaving behind a portal of some sort. I was expecting something more along the lines of a train, maybe a trailmon/locomon. But this works too. “Ready to go then?”
Renamon and Ryo gave a nod, but Rika didn’t respond. No, she was just confused by what the fuck was going at this very moment. But eventually, she gave a nod and they were sucked on in.
On the other side, the three found themselves subjected too to a rainbow void. It reminded two of the four of that one time that they went to the digital world. Except it was less hard on the eyes and there were more of them taking the trip.
Eventually, the rainbows faded away, giving way to a world similar to the one that they had just left. Except everything was all pastel and cel-shaded.
“Okay…” Rika whispered as they looked themselves over. Sure, looking like an adult was kind of cool, if not for the racing suit she was now wearing. She wouldn’t have minded something a bit more practical, especially if this was what she was going to be walking around in. But this, felt like something for some other time.
Kohenkyo!
Carefully, Renamon put her hand on her master’s shoulder, watching the racing suit get replaced by a bigger version of her old outfit. With the outfit, came a slightly higher viewpoint and a slight bust increase.
“Better?” Renamon inquired and Rika gave a nod. After, she let her focus turn to Ryo. Who like Rika, had gotten both a clothing and height change. Except it wasn't as drastic as hers, nor did it apply to his metal arm. That can just be put back in later. During editing.
Or why Renamon was now attempting to be a human around their age. Though, with her blouse and skirt, she looked like she could possibly pass. Millenniummon on the other hand, not so much. He still looked like a ball of dust with little change. Which is a complete waste if you ask me.
But that’s beyond the point. At the moment, our heroes found themselves in a forest. Just barely, they could make out the town below. And just beyond that, the harbor. Of course, that didn’t really tell them where they actually were.
“So where is this bakery you wanted to see?” Rika remarked, only for her attention to focus elsewhere. “Wait. Do you guys hear that?” Her teammates gave a head shake, only for a nut to hit one of them.
“Who threw that?”
More nuts followed. And by nuts, I mean stuff like peanuts and pecans. Which don’t really do that much damage. Maybe they should try walnuts? I heard those hurt a whole lot more. Or why settle for nuts? There’s got to be some sort of fruit that can be thrown as well. Thankfully, their attackers did eventually stop their assault upon them. Well, long enough that our heroes could move somewhat closer.
“Are the intruders still there?” a voice announced as what looked to be a cross between a fairy and a squirrel poke its head out. “Oh I guess they are still here.” “Uh… Could you tell where we are? We’re kind of lost.” Renamon announced and got an acorn to the head. It didn’t really hurt though. So I guess that’s nice. “Biomerge time?”
“I guess?” Rika whispered, feeling her partner become a part of her. “Wait. No transformation sequence?”
It’s a quick change. Tomato, tomato.
Whatever the case, Sakuyamon and Justimon now stood guard against the onslaught of weird fairy creatures. Which is complete overkill if you ask me.
Whip Decoration!
A ball of what I hope is whipped cream shot forth, covering both Rika and Ryo. The latter also attempted to get a mouthful of, which didn’t taste good. At all. I’m not sure why he thought it would. But oh well.
“What does it taste like?”
“Magic?” Thank you for that truly helpful answer. Not. Like seriously, that tells the viewer nothing. Bad Ryo! Bad! You should be ashamed of yourself.
“I’m not sure what I did wrong here.” Ryo remarked as a pink haired girl came into view. “Uh… can we help you here?”
On closer inspection, the pink-haired girl appeared to be wearing a pinkish white dress with a dark pink bow near the middle of her chest. A pair of dark pink high heeled boots covered her feet, with little tufts of white thrown in for good measure. Short white gloves cover her hands, while what looks to be shortcake head ornament (sadly, not edible) tries to compliment a pair of bunny ears. Interesting outfit, I guess?
“Maybe.” the girl answered, her attention split between both biomerged tamers. “I am Cure Whip. What brings you two to Strawberry Hills?”
Rika shot Ryo a glance. As tempting as it would be to just out him in the hopes of getting a trip back, it would mean also having to admit that she was being a complete buzzkill. Which didn’t sound so fun. Especially since they hadn’t thought of a way back to West Shinjuku. Oops. Probably should’ve thought that through before heading through an untested portal.
“Shut up!”
“Uh… Who are you even talking too?” the girl remarked, only to be joined by an orange-haired girl. Unlike her friend, she has gone yellowish dress with white opera gloves and a yellow ribbon. Yellow socks compliment an orange set of slippers, while a pair of cherries hang from a red choker. A flan head ornament sits right in front of a pair of squirrel ears, with a tail as well to boot. Points for theming I guess? Not what I would have gone with, but this isn’t one of my calls.
Custard Illusion!
A pair of cherries appear above squirrel girl, shattering into many small balls. Which homed into our two heroes. They did look quite tasty though.
Fox Card!
In response to that, Rika flung some sort of seal towards the projectiles. While clever thinking, it wasn’t enough to prevent either of them from getting hit. Not that it really hurt all that much.
“Ow.” Ryo whispered and got helped up by his companion. “What made you think that would work?”
Rika just shrugs. Right as squirrel girl runs on over and tries to send her little squirrel thing to attack. It isn’t too effective. Which begs the question of why that was her attack. Especially since her opponent countered with a series of kicks and staff swings.
“A little help here, Whip!” squirrel girl announced as she made a hand motion. ‘Whip’ just gave a nod and made her way over. “Thanks!”
The two then pulled out what looked to be a cross between umbrella rods and a wand. And that’s just ignoring the similarities to the previous team's sticks. Not that they would really know. Or care, for that matter.
Spirit Strike!
Four fox spirits appeared and attempted to do some damage to their opponents. But all that really happened was their opponents spirit things attacking them in the hopes of stopping them.
“We're here!” a voice announced as three more girls ran up.
“Great.” Rika whispered as duo were pelted with weird flavored silly string. “Could you I don't know, leave us alone? We don't mean you any trouble.”
The fighting stopped, as the attention shifted to the ‘digimon queen’. So she took a deep breath and reverted back to her original form.
“We just got here.” Rika explained. “I'm Rika and the woman beside me is Renamon.”
After saying that, Rika gave her other companion a slight poke. Which managed to revert him back as an added bonus. Even though he didn't help Rika at all during this fight. Which was quite rude of him, I might add. But whatever his reasoning for not acting when he did, the cyborg cleared his throat.
“I'm Ryo.” he announced and pointed towards the dust ball beside him. “This is Millenniummon. Just ignore him.”
Their opponents gazes shifted towards the dust ball.
“You sexy things.” the dust ball remarked. “Any of you available?”
That remark got him a barrage of attacks. Attacks that he most definitely deserved in that moment. They finally stopped when a girl dressed in cyan approached with a girl dressed in orange following right behind. For cyan girl, she had gone for a pegasus motif. Her companion had decided that dinosaurs were more her jam. Not that there's really a wrong answer in all of this. Just a difference of opinions.
But whatever the case, rabbit girl approached our duo. Once she was close enough, she let her outfit disappear in favor of more casual clothes. Which looked to be a halter dress and shoes with strawberry socks.
“I'm Ichika. Welcome to Strawberry Hills.” she greeted, a smile on her face. “Sorry about the trouble we may have caused you.”
Yet, Rika shook her head.
“Not at all.” she answered. “Is there anyway that we can get back?”
Ichika shook her head. Though, the attention of miss dino was now squarely on Rika. Who decided that now was a good time to approach the tamers.
“You’ve sealed your fate.” dino girl remarked and took a deep breath. “Sooner or later, your powers will be changed and you’ll no longer be able to be the same as before.”
Both Rika and Ryo gave her a stare.
“Just kidding.” dino girl remarked, getting a punch to the face. Which she responded with a series of her own. They hurt a lot more too. “Do you people take everything at face value?”
Both Rika and Ryo looked away.
“Maybe?”
It’s going to be a long day, isn’t it?
Thankfully, the rest of their opponents reverted back and revealed themselves to be teenage girls as well. Which our dustball decided that now was a good time to put on a pair of 80’s shades and blow a wolf whistle.
He got his ass kicked. Again. You would think he would have learned his lesson by this point, but no.
“Fine.” the dustball muttered and floated onto his master’s head. Once there, the group headed off down the mountain. Eventually, they reached a large park.
“What’s it name?”
Strawberry Park.
“That’s a bit on the nose.” Renamon whispered as she looked the sign over.
Yeah. But it does the job nicely. You wouldn’t want the place to just be called ‘park’ or ‘greenspace’. That would be silly.
“Would you like a cupcake?” Ichika inquired and watched their guests perk up.
“That would be nice.” Rika answered as a large building came into view. It looked like a facade from an amusement park. You know, like the stuff that they used on Main Street for Disney Parks. Except here, it was an actual building. More specifically, a bakery.
“Patisserie.” squirrel girl remarked. “There’s a big difference.”
Huh.
Inside, things were decorated for the Christmas season. You know, sleds, Christmas trees and of course, snow.
“What do you guys think?” Ichika continued, cracking a slightly nervous smile. “Yukari did the decorations.”
A purple haired girl walked over to Ichika and gave her chin a slight tickle. Which resulted in the ‘bunny girl’ erupting into a giggling fit.
It also got the purple-haired girl a glance from the gal who looked as if they could pass as a guy. Probably purple haired girl’s girlfriend or something. It wouldn’t be that surprising, but you know.
Whatever the case, they headed on in.
“Could you give us a second?” one of the girls (a blue haired one) announced and the group scurried to the back, leaving our heroes to their own devices.
“Huh…” Rika answered, taking another look around. It felt almost like someone’s home, the sort that one could pack up and take with them.
When the girls finally returned, they were now clad in white apron dresses with little tints of their respective color powers. They were also carrying platters of various sweets.
“Bon Appetit.” one of them announced as they set the trays down, joining the trio at the table. What followed, was a feast of Christmas sweets. A well deserved one, at that. Maybe after that, they could find a way off of this rock.
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qqueenofhades · 6 years
Note
FAKE MARRIED GARCY IN SALEM, WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE GO
Well I also wrote a much smuttier version of this here, but with New Spoiler Information oh Glorious Day, yes. This is now like my… fourth Salem fic. Who needs self-control.
The muggy New England summer air smells familiar, and Lucy can’tthink why, until it comes to her. She did a program at Harvard in her sophomoreyear of high school, aimed at overachievers like her, in colonial Americanhistory. Her mother insisted it would look good on hercollege application, that they weren’t getting her into Stanford on nepotismalone, and of course Lucy went along with it. Wanted to work harder, wanted toplease her mother, wanted to be a historian just like her. Now, of course,they’re standing in 16-goddamn-92, her mother is here somewhere but Lucydoesn’t know where, and Wyatt –
(She doesn’t know where Wyatt is. He just went AWOL. Time forthe mission, he wasn’t there, and she wanted to, she was desperate to know, but they didn’t have time. It went againstabsolutely everyone’s better judgment, but she successfully argued Flynn intohis place. She and Rufus can’t go face a mob of witch-hunters without asoldier. It’s just a fact, and yet.)
Lucy turns around to look at Flynn and Rufus, clambering out ofthe Lifeboat with one more dirty look at each other. Or rather, a dirty lookfrom Rufus – Flynn, for once, seems almost chastened. He straightens up with agrimace, regarding the distant prospect of Salem Town without enthusiasm. Thisis his first trip back since they got him out, and it’s clear he is not at allhappy to see the past again. “So what do the bastards want?”
“That’s what we have to figure out.” Lucy is eager to keep thismission on track. “We have to get down into the village and ask some questions,we – ”
“Ask questions in the middle of a witch hunt?” Flynn pulls hisgun out and checks that it’s loaded. It’s clear what he thinks they’ll need todo, and Lucy isn’t sure he’s wrong. An image of the young soldier begging forhis life in 1918 floats into her head, as she can feel her own hands terriblysteady on the rifle stock, the recoil against her shoulder. She swallowssomething bad-tasting and reminds herself to focus. “Sounds like just the sortof thing to draw attention to us.”
“Like we don’t draw attention anyway!” Rufus snaps. “A blackguy, a psycho in a leather trench coat, and a strange woman! We’ve pretty muchgot targets on our backs already – you got any ideas of your own, or are youjust going to shoot down anything we come up with? Get it, shoot?”
Lucy looks at him in troubled concern, reaching out to put herhand on his arm, but Rufus imperceptibly flinches away. “Rufus,” she says.“It’s – it’s going to be all right.”
It sounds trite and stupid, knowing she can’t guarantee itanyway, but it makes Rufus soften enough to look at her. Both of them areclearly missing Wyatt, but Lucy at least trusts their replacement in a way thatRufus doesn’t at all, with good reason. “Come on,” she says. “Come on, okay?Rittenhouse will stick out as well, we won’t be the only strangers in town. Weneed to find Colonel Nathaniel Saltonstall, he’s the only man in Salem whoopposes the trials. Warn him that they’re going to get much worse, or…”
“So what’s our cover?” Rufus’s shoulders hunch. “I’m yourmanservant, because yay, racism andhe’s – ” He still can’t bring himself to say Flynn’s name. “Your pet mentalpatient?”
Flynn and Lucy look at each other, then open and shut theirmouths. Neither of them appear to have thought of this.
“We, ah,” Lucy says. “We’ll figure that out.”
They walk down the hill carefully. They’ve tangled with enoughof the Rittenhouse sleeper agents by now that they aren’t underestimatinganything, and Salem is already a town on edge for any hint of anything demonic.Lucy can’t be certain how far along in the trials they are, but it’s June, andthis started back in February, which means the hangings have either juststarted or are about to. Lucy is still trying to work out how Rittenhouse canmake this worse – hang more women?It’s a sick way to think about it, but since the world kills women all thetime, are a few extra casualties at Salem really going to make a difference?What do they have in mind aside from just…?
Lucy is also discovering that, as Rufus says, it’s very hard tomove around by herself. People turn and look at her as she walks byunaccompanied, until she wants to tell them that this religious-repressionthing is not going to work out for anyone and they should just give it a rest.But that, of course, would backfire on her in exactly the way they’re trying toavoid.
“Saltonstall?” Lucy asks someone, as politely as she can.“Nathaniel Saltonstall?”
The man, a middle-aged sort in a stiff black hat, eyes her verydubiously. “Where is your husband, mistress?”
Lucy doesn’t see what her marital status has to do with asking aquestion, unless he thinks she’s a concubine of Satan here to tempt him. Heprobably does, but that’s not helpful. She’s about to tell the truth, until shecatches sight of Flynn across the way, and nods at him. “Over there.”
The man eyes Flynn, seems to decide he may not want to pick afight, and finally jerks his head. “Saltonstall lives up the close. That way.”
“Thank you.” Lucy decides to avoid pushing her luck, but sheshould warn Flynn before someone else asks. She hurries back in his direction.“I found where Saltonstall lives. Where’s Rufus?”
“He went in to ask.” Flynn jerks his head at the shop. “Didn’tseem to want me to come.”
Lucy looks at him in a blend of exasperation, weariness, anduncertain, unspoken – something. She doesn’t know what, she never does with him. Finally she says, blurting it out as fast as possible, “I – overthere, that man. I – I may have told him that we were married. Just in caseanyone asks.”
An extraordinary expression crosses Flynn’s face, which hequickly tamps down. Then he nods. “Yes,” he says curtly. “I see. Sensible.”
Lucy eyes him for a moment longer, but whatever else she mightbe about to say is interrupted as Rufus re-emerges, looking disgruntled.“Saltonstall lives that way,” he says, pointing – in the opposite way Lucy’sbeen directed. “Apparently.”
“Wait, are you sure? The other man said it was that way.”
Rufus frowns at her. It’s clear that it’s unlikely for twopeople who have presumably lived here their entire lives to get the residenceof a well-known citizen wrong, and Lucy feels a faint chill down her spine.Then she says, “I’ll go look at this one, you two the other, then we – ”
“Split up?” Flynn scowls at her. “What sort of husband am Isupposed to be, exactly?”
It’s on the tip of Lucy’s tongue to remind him that technically,he’s no husband at all, that was just a convenient lie, but she stops. “Look.”She reaches out to put a hand on his wrist. “You and Rufus need to work on somethings, clearly. I’ll be all right for five minutes.”
“One of our informants is either lying or an idiot, Lucy.” Hiseyes don’t leave her face. “I don’t like those odds.”
“I’ll be fine.” Lucy’sfingers inadvertently link around his, and both of them glance at it. Shespends a lot of time these days convincing people of this. “I trust you. Rufusdoesn’t. Just… look after him, all right? Do that for me.”
Flynn’s gaze remains on her, as if asking who is going to lookafter her. Finally, somewhat tooslowly, he pulls his hand out of hers. “Five minutes, then back here.”
“Of course.” Lucy beckons them off. “Go on.”
When they’ve crossed the square, not without a look back at her,she picks up her skirts and hurries in the direction indicated by the man sheasked. It’s a somewhat ordinary-looking house, a little drab for a colonel anddecorated townsman, and Lucy feels a brief qualm that this was in fact somekind of setup. Still, she braces herself and knocks.
After a pause, a young woman opens the door. She doesn’t lookRittenhouse, but Lucy has learned by now that that is a fallacious distinction– Rittenhouse can look like anything, that’s their gift. “Can I help you,mistress?”
“I’m sorry for the interruption.” Lucy smiles deferentially. “IsNathaniel Saltonstall here?”
The woman squints at her in confusion. “What? No. I’m AbiahFranklin.”
AbiahFranklin. Lucy’s pretty sure that name sounds familiar, though she can’tthink why. “I’m sorry, I – have we… met?”
“Not that I recall. My husband Josiah, he’s a candlemaker upfrom Boston, and we’ve – ” Abiah gestures at their present surroundings. “Beendelayed returning.”
JosiahFranklin. A candlemaker from Boston. That now, that, Lucy doesknow, and a bolt of lightning goes through her. Josiah and Abiah Franklin haveten children, the first of whom might have already been born, but the last sonof which won’t be born until 1706. His name? Benjamin. Abiah Franklin is fromNantucket, but she’s not supposed to be anywhere near Salem, was neveroriginally accused or mixed up in this. But if she was lured here, ifRittenhouse is going to arrest her, if Benjamin is never born –
“Who did you say you were?” Abiah frowns at Lucy. Visits fromstrange women asking about prior acquaintances aren’t exactly welcome rightnow. “Mrs…?”
“Flynn. Mrs. Flynn. My husband and I are… also passingthrough. I’m sorry, I was told this was the Saltonstall house for some reason,but – ”
Abiah doesn’t answer. Her eyes are fixed over Lucy’s shoulder,at someone – something – coming closer. Lucy whirls around at the same time,and thus learns the literal meaning of “torches and pitchforks.”
This was a setup. She was directed here at the same time thewitchfinding mob was already coming for Abiah. Now here she is, in apparentcahoots with Rittenhouse’s Number One target, who they will have told everyoneis the worst witch alive, and –
“Wait,” Lucy says, holding out her arms and frantically tryingto beckon Abiah behind her. “Wait, wait, thisis a mistake. No, you can’t take her, no. No!”
“Silence, witch!” The leader of the brute squad aims a backhandat her, which Lucy only barely dodges. “We have received sworn testimonies asto this woman’s most despicable and demonic character, her consort with thedevil, her – ”
Briefly, Lucy thinks if anyone is consorting with the devilhere, it’s not Abiah, but that is not helpful (and not true – Flynn isn’t thedevil, not by a long shot). She grabs onto the man’s arm, doesn’t know if he’sanother sleeper agent or just a zealous local thug. “YOU CAN’T TAKE HER!”
Abiah is startled, not expecting this defense from a woman she’snever seen, as one of the witchfinders shoves Lucy aside – she stumbles,banging her shoulder on the door – to grab Abiah. Someone else snatches Lucy,and she kicks and struggles, at least until another blow catches her across theface, and she sees stars. The shock of it is worse than the pain. She has neveractually been hit before. Not like that, personally and directly, and it makesher bite her tongue with a click. She’s dazed enough that she can’t reallystruggle as they’re hauled off.
They’re dumped in a hot, close room with other women in theirwhite mob caps and collars, everyone huddled and sweaty and scared and notwilling to meet anyone’s gaze. Lucy’s eye is swelling, and Abiah hesitates,then unties her kerchief and dips it in the scanty bucket of drinking water,dabbing at it. “Are you all right?”
“I’m…” Lucy knows that this is not the greatest situation,that the accused are often tried and hanged quickly, that she disappeared justas she promised Flynn and Rufus she wouldn’t, and there’s no guarantee thatthey have any clue where she is. Maybe the frothing mob was a clue, but –perhaps they were too far away. Maybe they found Saltonstall, or maybeRittenhouse found them. Lucy musters a shaky smile. “I’m all right. We have toget you out of here.”
Abiah frowns at her quizzically. “Why me?”
“Because you’re… you’re not supposed to be here, are you?”Lucy tries to think how to phrase this without sounding totally insane. “You’reinnocent.”
“So are you.” Abiah looks wry. “So are all these women. But thatdoesn’t matter right now, does it?”
“I… no.” Lucy stops. Life-threatening peril is just Mondayfor her now, so it’s not as if this is a terrible shock to the system. But thisis just stupid. Even more, perhaps, because she could have, should have seenthis coming, and walked straight into it anyway. Proving something, or tryingto show that she could Handle This, or – she doesn’t know. It was reckless.“I’m sure someone will come for you.”
“Josiah’s been gone since yesterday.” A fine line of worrycreases Abiah’s brows. “What about your husband?”
Yes, Lucy thinks, Josiah probably has been. Either Rittenhousekilled him, and cut out the bother of getting Abiah convicted, or they justinvented something to keep him out of town while they do God knows what withhis wife and the other women. Then, since Abiah’s still waiting for an answer,Lucy says, “My, ah, my husband will… he’ll come. If he can find out intime.”
She doesn’t know where the conviction arises from, when afterall, in all logicality, she shouldn’t be sure if Flynn will leave her here ornot. But she isn’t. She just knows. He’ll come.
If he can find out in time.
If they don’t kill him too.
If he and Rufus don’t kill each other.
Lucy settles against the wall and tries to think positively.
Things, to say the least, do not go well when Flynn and Rufusreturn from their errand (it was Saltonstall’s house, but he wasn’t there) tofind Lucy gone, rumors making the rounds that two more witches have beenseized, and that the Court of Oyer and Terminer is convening for an emergencysession. It takes them a bit, but they confirm that one of the women is a Mrs.Franklin, and the other is a Mrs. Flynn. At this, Rufus’s eyebrows almost flyoff his head, but he swivels to stare pointedly at Flynn. “I’m taking it that’sher?”
“Must be. Yes.” Flynn tries to focus, to speak calmly, but histhoughts have turned into a screaming wall. Mrs.Franklin seems tangentially important as well, but he can only focus on onething. They have her. Rittenhouse has her, or at least these pitchfork-wavingshitheads do, and –
No. No. Not this. Not again.
He and Rufus have an even more rocky time trying to find whereLucy is being held. It might be faster to split up, but like hell are theydoing that again, especially as nightfall draws near and the mood of the townis clearly ripe for suffering. Humans have always gotten something perverse andprimal about watching their fellows be hurt, and a public hanging, thespectacle of an accused witch cast down, is unmissable. Ripe familyentertainment. God, these people need Netflix to be invented.
(Besides. There will be no hanging. No hanging.)
He and Rufus are too focused on finding Lucy to snark – much –especially when they get waylaid by the Puritan brute squad and a number ofthem regretfully run face-first into Flynn’s fists. They barely get away fromthat when some weasels who are definitely Rittenhouse jump Rufus, and Flynn hasto waste more time taking them out. When he finally gives a rather breathlessRufus a hand to his feet, the other man looks at it for a long moment, thenaccepts. “I didn’t think you were going to do that,” he says stiffly, brushinghimself off. “So. Thanks. For that.”
Flynn jerks his head in a brief nod. “You said if I got youshot, I was driving.”
“Yeah.” Rufus looks warily down the dark street. “So that wasit?”
“And I…” Flynn blows out a breath. “I owed you one. ForChicago. I had my reasons. But… I’m sorry.”
Rufus looks at him again, taken off guard. Finally he says, “Youknow, you were right about one thing.Rittenhouse is really terrible.”
Flynn almost smiles, but it’s too grim. “Come on,” he saysinstead. “Let’s find Lucy.”
They end up barely doing this in time. Flynn doesn’t know whatassholery has gone on, but they make it to the hanging hill just as Lucy andher companion are being marched up to where the noose dangles ominously from atree. In the wild, uncertain torchlight, Lucy’s face actually looks scared, andFlynn doesn’t know what happens, exactly, or what breaks inside him. Only thatsomething does, there is a sea of torches and leering, angry, frightened faces,and he’s not, he’s just utterly and fundamentally not, about to let this happen again.
“GET AWAY FROM MY WIFE!” He jumps down, pulls out his gun, andfires a warning shot in the direction of who looks like the asshole-in-chief –Mather, Flynn thinks that’s the one, Cotton Mather. There are screams and scramblesas the Salemites dodge for cover, Rufus whirls around and punches one in thenose – not the best punch, perhaps, but he’s learning – and he and Flynn rolltoward the gallows like a juggernaut, as Lucy catches sight of them. Her eyeslock with Flynn’s, and something twists in his gut like a dagger. It’s sweetand deadly and unbearable and transcendent all at once.
The next instant, Flynn reaches the gallows, holds out his armsto her, and Lucy wastes no time at all in leaping down into them. He holds herclose, wrapping his jacket around her, but she doesn’t want comfort, exactly. “Mrs.Franklin!” she yells, pointing up at the other woman. “Get her!”
Flynn doesn’t want to let go of Lucy, but he also wants to followher instructions, so he pushes Lucy back to Rufus’s custody, swivels to punchanother attempted interfering idiot, and holds out his arms for the mysterious Mrs.Franklin. As he lifts her down, she gives him a curious, relieved, shaky look. “Youmust be Lucy’s husband?”
A certain, impossible, desperate joy sweeps through him. Heallows himself, for one raw moment, to imagine it. It will be left behind inthe past anyway. It always is. It fades.
“Yes,” Flynn says. “Yes, I am.”
It takes more time after that for them to get away from the mob,to make it back to the house where Lucy was held and to rescue the other women –Lucy has no interest in preserving history to the letter anymore, feels a ferociousthrill as she, Rufus, and Flynn haul them to their feet and tell them to run –and order Abiah to go as well, find her Josiah and go back to Boston and livethe life she was planning. There is other idiocy, because there always is, butfinally, it’s very late (or very early, there’s a flush of pink in the east),the battered trio is climbing back to the Lifeboat, and Lucy is so exhaustedthat she’s swaying on her feet. As Flynn gives her an arm, seemingly withoutthinking or meaning to, she grips hold of it and looks up at him. “Thank you,”she says, quietly and fiercely. “Thank you for coming for me.”
He looks as if he might come back with one of his usual Flynn comments,but he doesn’t. Instead, almost choked, he nods. “Did you think I’d let thosebastards get you?”
“No.” Lucy is so tired, so tired. His face floats weirdly in thedarkness, among the stars. “I knew you’d save me.”
Flynn tries again to answer, and can’t. Instead, all at once, heslides one arm behind her shoulders, the other below her knees, and carries her(fittingly – they are faux-married,after all) bridal-style the rest of the way back to the Lifeboat. She lets herhead drop onto his shoulder, her eyes drifting closed, as they finally reachit, he sets her down, and he and Rufus haul the brush aside – they really hadto hide it well on this trip. They aren’t exactly friendly, but there seems tohave been something to pass between them as well.
Flynn comes back to pick Lucy up off the stump where she’s beensitting, and helps her up the steps. Their hands linger in each other’s grip,and don’t let go immediately.
It’s not much waiting back in 2018, but it’s their home.
Theirs.
Who would ever have thought.
“All right,” Lucy says quietly. “Let’s go.”
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swordsandrayguns · 3 years
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QuaranTV 2: Sukeban Deka
I have a new book to launch (White Tiger, Black Leopard comes out tomorrow, Wednesday November 25 on your favorite ebook retailer...) but I also have had a fever for a week and am locked at home waiting for the results of a Covid test. So instead of worrying about book promotions and things like that (I did not even mention that White Tiger, Black Leopard is a new martial arts fantasy inspired by Chinese wuxia literature and old fashioned pulp adventures)  I am watching lots of TV and laying around. Something about flu-like symptoms and low grade fevers makes the couch incredibly tempting. And since, for once, I am not doing 15 other things while I watch TV this seems like a good time to catch up on all those Japanese movies and TV shows I have been meaning to watch when I have the time to sit still and pay attention. Time I have, sitting still is about all I have the energy for and paying attention... well, as long as it is nothing too serious. That means that four hour version of the 47 Ronin is too much but something like Sukeban Deka, which translates roughly to delinquent girl undercover agent or something along those lines, is perfect.
A couple of years ago one of the overstock book and DVD sites I frequent had dirt cheap copies of Sukeban Deka 1&2 and the later remake Yo-Yo Girl Cop. I picked up all three DVDs and placed them on my over growing stack of stuff to watch eventually. I knew the films were based on a manga, but I have never read it and honestly I am not even sure it has ever been translated and released in the US. I was just in the right mood and they were cheap... I think I also bought a box set of Delinquent Girl Boss movies on the same order.
So flash forward to the era of Covid, a fever I would normally ignore forcing me to stay home and boredom pushing me to look for something other than the tokusatsu shows I have been watching lately... Sukeban Deka seemed the perfect choice. And I have to say: it surprised the hell out of me!
What I did not realize going into the film was that it was based more on the Sukeban Deka television series than the original manga. Starring Yoko Minamino (who is the second delinquent turned undercover high school agent code named Sukeban Deka in the series) the 1987 film serves as a bridge between the second season starring Minamino and the third, starring Yui Asaka as the third agent Sukeban Deka. In fact, I did not really know any of this until after I finished watching and looked the movie up on Wikipedia. Not knowing the background did not really keep me from enjoying the movie and I did enjoy it.
High school students dealing with extreme circumstances of the real world (like being secret government agents) is a fairly common theme in manga and Sukeban Deka falls firmly into the genre. Basically, it is a typical action film with the stars wearing school uniforms. Actually, it is pretty heavily drawn from Enter The Dragon with plucky teenage girls wielding explosive/electrified yo-yos and flinging marbles instead of Bruce Lee. Right there, that exact sentence tells you if you should watch the movie or not. If you did not read that and immediately say “That sounds like the dumbest damn thing ever” and you have a soft spot for cute pop stars turned action heroes then go find a copy of Sukeban Deka! At least the first one; I have not gotten around to watching the sequel or remake yet.
One thing really did surprise me, though. The filmmakers were very respectful of the characters and actresses. With the exception of a pink jogging suit, the uniform the team chose when attacking the enemy stronghold, I think Yoko Minamino wore an ankle length skirt the entire movie (either with a fluffy pink sweater or as part of her sailor outfit school uniform). That kind of reads like a complaint, but it is not. It was nice watching a piece of Japanese action fluff that did not feature gratuitous nudity or exploitation of the young stars. I don’t know if this is because the movie was actually made for TV (although everything I have found seems to indicate it was a feature film) or just restrained, but Sukeban Deka was more chaste than I would expect from any Japanese program... something more like I would expect from late ‘80s Hong King cinema. If you have read this far and have a chance to grab a copy (or stream it from somewhere) I would say watch Sukeban Deka. It should be of interest to many Asian cinema fans.
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That’s Highly Offensive: 2018 Golden Globes
Y’all know I only wear all black all the time, so I find the fact that Hollywood is "uniting" against whatever tonight by wearing all black to be kind of a stupid way to pussy foot around the issue, but who asked me? This should have been a night when the carpet looked the way I think it should at all times, but honestly, a lot of stuff looked makeshift and cheap to me. And WHAT was with all the skirts-over-pants nonsense?? I thought that was over. Also, forgive the overuse of the funeral garb schtick but what choice did I have?
Wow. It's rare that the first look I see ends up being the worst dressed of the night, but Debra Messing has just taken the cake, eaten it, made another cake, eaten that, made another one, and took that too. I know it's cliché but MESSing says it all. #thefacesofmeth That emerald eyeshadow and those Elvira for Family Dollar false lashes!!  And WHAT is that dent in her forehead?? I’ll tell you what it is… bad Botox. Or Juvaderm. Or whatever expired baby bunny cartilage her dermo found in Karen Walker’s dumpster. Oh and also, she’s wearing the dress version of Liza’s putty kkk hood shoes and it’s  all HIGHLY offensive.
Kelly Clarkson- "From Justin to King Midas" if King Midas was a lizard...
Kristin Cavallari went as 1999 Oscars Angelina Jolie but with a ballerina's bun and I'm not ok with it.
I honestly have nothing bad to say about Tracee Ellis Ross’s outfit. The phrase ‘Charmin Noir’ comes to mind, but let’s not bc you know how much I love a turban/wrap!
Meryl Streep: You bore me to tears. I like your glasses.
It seems to be literally KILLING Giuliana Rancid that she can’t ask “Who are you wearing?” bc she is incapable of NOT pointing out the fact that she’s not asking that question to every person she's interviewed. And as always, she looks like the Queen from Antz but this year her skin is a particularly orange shade of Oscar Meyer all beef frank. She also has one of the most bulbous horse hair dino ponytails I’ve ever seen. She's like the anorexic version of Starla from Napoleon Dynamite. AND HER TAN LINES! I didn't know you got those from bottled self tanner...
Catherine Zeta Jones: I am still obsessed with CZJ even after recently rewatching Ocean’s Twelve for the first time since Cat and I fell asleep in the theater. Her face, her body, her dress, her earrings, her love for her thousand year old father in law… I am fully behind all of it!
Penelope Cruz: See above. #stunning
I don't know who this woman from Outlander is but I do know she better be on her way to audition at Tweetsie Railroad.
Connie Britton: NO.
Jessica Biel and J. Tim- don’t NO ONE CARE. I don’t know one person who watched ‘The Sinner’ (most people didn’t even know what I was talking about when I asked if they’d heard of it), so the fact that she is nominated is a testament to that Sexy Back money and nothing more. Just her talking about being a producer of the show is like… We get it…you’re the only one who would pay you to be an actress anymore. PS, your arms are fabulous.
Mandy Candy Moore: Olé!
Holy shit Diane Kruger looks amazing.
Unfortunately, Sarah Paulson is one of those I feel looks like she's in something cheap. Really cheap. Like she stole a leotard from the Xanadu Mourning collection and wrapped a table cloth around herself. And I can't say I love the choppiness of her bob.
Michele Williams- I’m still not over how ridiculous you looked on Dawson’s Creek, but your pixie has grown on me over the last few years but OHMYGOD what is that shelf in the back? Lloyd Christmas called…
Seth Myers looks like the singing sword and a foot had a baby and named it Cheremy.
Jamie Chung- First of all, why are you here? Secondly, you look like the winner of a ‘Grunge Bride’ themed stripper contest sponsored by Hefty in 2002. Those shoes….
Alexis Bledel- Let’s get this out of the way: I can’t stand you. You’re a mumbler with creepy Kewpie doll eyes and mouth. But as for what you’re wearing, GASP you’re not wearing solid black so you obviously don’t care about women!! But also, you must not care about yourself either because you look like one of Ariel’s sisters and Dionysus had a baby and it came out haunted.
Why is Dave Franco wearing so much rouge????
Alison Brie- Ok, you can channel Audrey Hepburn, I guess. Although her dress does resemble my senior prom dress from Cache. Oh wait- there’s a pants leg. You’re trash.
William H. Macy: Did Grubby die? That’s the only reason I can think of for Teddy Ruxpin to show up to the Golden Globes in all black…
Gal Gadot is clearly going to an audition for "A Chorus Line" after the Globes. Why else would she steal a maitre'd's jacket and cut it in half?
Saoirse Ronan looks perfect all around. I need all of it immediately, even though I’d look more like Bruce Villanche dressed in drag doing a David Bowie tribute than her svelte awesomeness…
Eva Longoria looks like a pregnant Sharpie.
It took me a solid 3 seconds & a glance at the caption to figure out I was looking at Halle Berry and not some mixed berry bag of Skittles from a prom themed episode of the CW’s Gossip Girl revival. And her bangs look gross and ridiculous. #whywontsheage??
I take it back: Reese Witherspoon looks like the pregnant Sharpie. Or maybe her daughter has decided to become a fashion designer and this was her first foray into an origami—inspired collection? #blacktobasics
Nicole Kidman (or Nicky Kickin it in the Moulin Rouge, as Jack McFarland calls her) looks flawless, as always. The one negative thing I will say is that I find flutter fly cap sleeves to be among the most offensive things in adult female fashion (mainly because the only humans that can pull them off are pre-teens, anorexics and Kate Moss (not that she’d ever wear them).
Viola Davis wins everything. Omg that hair and makeup and jewelry and dress. ⚰️⚰️⚰️
Did Zac-without-a-K Efron want people to mistake him for Milo Ventimiglia? Is that the reason for the mustache? Why is he even there? GASP! Are they already remaking High School Musical (because you know that’s in the works…) with him starring as Troy again?!? #prayerhands
Why exactly is Naomi Campbell at the Golden Globes, must less in a piece from the never-to-be-seen sketches Vivienne Westwood did for Guy Richie’s new pandering remake starring Madonna as Herlock Holmes?
Lily James- You are gorgeous perfection and I mean that because anyone that stars in a live action Disney remake is automatically on my shit list (I’m looking at you, Emmas Stone and Watson…) but what the actual hell are you wearing? You look like a Project Runway contestant’s submission on the theme “Maleficent’s entrance to the party.”
Octavia Spencer looks like the teacher who got to play Glinda’s role in a #metoo fundraising, high school production of Wicked after the lead was stricken with mono.
Greta Gerwig- I’m tempted to allow it, but only if you’re intentionally channeling Marchesa Luisa Casati.
Angelina Jolie- oh. my. god. I know I’m biased (as one of her long lost, adopted children she’s never acknowledged or heard of) but I cannot say one bad thing about this, especially since I’ve been in 100% Bombshell  Manual mode lately and anything with feathers or frills or femininity is giving me LIFE. #bestdressed
Elizabeth Moss: from Polly to Pollyana. Anyone that gets that is my lifelong friend and anyone that doesn’t please never talk to me again. But seriously honey, that waistline is not your friend.
Jessica Chastain- I think I love everything about this but am i crazy or does it make her look a little bulky? Tell me I’m crazy. I’m crazy. (Narrator: She was definitely crazy.)
omg Maggie Gyllenhaal is wearing the same Castle Greyskull, droopy-sleeve of wizard-vagine garment as Debra Messing! Is this a thing?? Gross. And those earrings are stupid too but I don’t know why.
Emilia Clarke is perfection (minus the bow but moving on) and I don’t even love GOT.
Geena Davis stole one of CZJ’S costumes from Chicago and i can’t say that I’m angry. I will say that I’m angry that the head designer at LOFT got hold of it and added a few of those filthy lace panels before she walked the red carpet, but since she still looks pretty flawless…I’LL ALLOW IT.
As always, Lena Headey looks like the drunk, badass aunt who was a groupie before falling into acting so I love her even more than when she gets drunk and sets people on fire on tv. The dress does look like something a goth would make to wear to a Renaissance fair, but who cares when she looks that cool in it?
I love Margot Robbie more than almost anyone in Hollywood today (even though she stole my life’s dream of playing Tonya Harding. Seriously, I’d started writing a short right before they announced that movie and I’m not even kidding), but I can’t say i know exactly what she was going for with this look… an Elsa-possessed mistletoe over her womb to subtly announce she’s expecting? A tribute to the portion of Fantasia where fairies ice skate to ‘Waltz of the Flowers’ as a nod to the ice goddess she plays in ‘I, Tonya?’ I’ve been staring at it for a few minutes now and can honestly say I have no clue.
Gwendolyn Christie- I have no idea what you are wearing but I do know that I am obsessed with your GOT character so you have my permission to do whatever you please.
Kerry Washington unfortunately looks like some anorexic basic at her junior prom. And those floral net booties are what a leprechaun wears to a funeral. wtf. Oh but her hair is on point.
Kate Hudson- Je refuse.
Chris Hemsworth can do no wrong even in a suit made from a brocade table cloth and VELVETEEN shoes so don’t even worry about it, honey.
Michelle Pfeiffer- omg i am heartbroken over how matronly you look!! As anyone who knows me knows, my mother could pass as your identical twin, so I take it kind of personally when you show up on the red carpet dressed as Marian the librarian’s widowed sister, Ovarian.
Zoe Kravtiz- Sweetie, it’s already been done and its name was Natalie Portman. A chunky, funky  emerald earring does make you look like Audrey Hepburn's edgy cousin though. Whatever- you still look gorgeous and I love you.
Kendall Jenner- There are so many things wrong with your look, much less your existence, but I’ll just sum it up with this: T. STRAPPED. POINTY. TOED. SHOES. Also, lay off the brow botox before you look like Debra Messing, or worse, Kylie Jenner. #gasp
Sarah Jessica Parker literally went as her character from Hocus Pocus attending a funeral.
Isabelle Huppert wins the night! Nope, spoke too soon. Her dress has those damned flutter sleeves on it too! What IS that? It’s trash, is what it is…
Roseanne Barr forgot to put a dress over her Spanx…
Ok, that's all I got. I barely watched any of the actual show bc I can't with most of those self important a-holes, so I can't comment on anything "exciting" or "interesting" that might have happened. Let me know if I missed anything highly offensive🥂
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