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#and then he started absentmindedly stroking the wig
poisonlove · 6 months
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A macchiato, please | j.o
Part 1 part 2 part 3
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"Wow..." I murmur in awe, looking at the massive medieval castle in front of my eyes.
"Why are we here?" I ask curiously, and Jenna smiles genuinely.
Tom stands behind us.
"It's the set for the new season... obviously all rented," Jenna says, pointing absentmindedly towards the building. The grandeur and impressive atmosphere of the castle leave me speechless.
"When do you start filming?" I ask curiously, looking around.
"Actually, in 10 minutes... but I'm running late," she confesses timidly.
"What? Then go," I say, laughing, and Jenna smiles, taking my hand.
"Come to my dressing room, they need to do my makeup and put on the wig," Jenna asks with a hint of a smile, looking at me with bright eyes.
We hear footsteps approaching.
"But, where the heck were you? You're late," my eyes shift towards the sound of the voice and I smile seeing Emma dressed as Enid.
The blonde girl with pink and blue streaks looks at us curiously"oh... you must be y/n" she says with a smile on her lips.
I turn to Jenna, and the girl blushes intensely.
"You talked about me?" I ask, and Jenna looks away, embarrassed.
"Just what was necessary," Jenna murmurs sheepishly.
"I know I'm late," Jenna says in a distressed voice. "I'm going now," she mutters.
"Move, because if Tim sees you like this... he'll give you a lecture," Emma says authoritatively.
Jenna sighs and tightens my hand, starting to walk towards her dressing room.
"Isn't Tom coming?" I ask, confused, looking at the bodyguard pacing near the car.
"No... when I'm working, he has free time," Jenna murmurs weakly and with a small smile, quickens her pace, dragging me along.
We reach the dressing room and enter. The atmosphere is filled with efficiency and vibrant colors, unlike the austere image I expected. "Here I am," Jenna announces, heading towards the makeup artist and hairstylist.
,"Out of curiosity, how did they get in?" I ask, and Jenna looks at me confused.
"What do you mean?" she asks curiously.
"Well... you sleep here, right? How did they get in?" I ask.
"Oh... when we're filming, theoretically, I go to where they are... but when I don't show up, I've given them spare keys to come wake me up," she says with a little smile.
"I see..." I murmur.
"They're professionals... I assure you they don't come to see me in the middle of the night," Jenna jokes, and I laugh timidly.
Jenna sits on the stool as the makeup artist begins to work with artistic skill. The instruments and products are organized, each ready to play its role in the enchanting transformation.
"So, Jenna, how do you prefer the makeup for this scene?" the makeup artist asks, focusing her gaze on her through the mirror.
"Something light but that accentuates the eyes, please. I want them to stand out in the key scenes," Jenna responds, with a focused expression.
The makeup artist begins to work masterfully, blending and mixing the colors to achieve the desired effect. Each stroke seems to be done with care and intention, creating a result that enhances Jenna's face without overwhelming it.
Meanwhile, the hairstylist works on the wig, patiently shaping it to fit Jenna's character. The dedication and passion of both artists in their work are palpable.
Jenna gradually relaxes, allowing herself to be guided by the skilled hands of the makeup and wig artists. The makeup is completed with a touch of gloss on the lips and a light blush on the cheeks.
"Ready, you're set to captivate on set," the makeup artist announces, admiring the work done.
Jenna smiles, satisfied with the result. The makeup artist and hairstylist leave the dressing room, looking at me with confusion and slight irritation.
"What do you think?" she asks, spinning around so I can get a better look at the full outfit. Jenna strikes a pose, lowers her head, and looks at me seriously through her lashes, imitating Wednesday without a doubt.
"You're amazing!" I exclaim sincerely, admiring the final result.
Jenna lights up at the praise. "Thank you, it's really nice to hear that our work is appreciated. Now, are you ready to witness the shots? You'll see how everything comes to life on set," Jenna murmurs, unconsciously rubbing a part of her lips.
"Wait," I murmur absentmindedly, approaching her.
The absence of heels emphasizes our height difference, and I stop just a few inches from her with a small smile. "What's up?" she whispers weakly.
I raise my hand and place my thumb on her lips, removing the lipstick that was close to her lips. Jenna closes her eyes at my touch.
"You had a bit of lipstick..." I say with a small smile, looking down at Jenna. She had lifted her chin and was looking at me through her long lashes, seriously.
"Thank you..." she confesses and then looks away, her cheeks flushed.
"Mmmh..." Jenna clears her throat. "So, shall we?" she asks with slight discomfort.
"Of course!" I reply, trying to dispel the tension with a smile. "I'm ready to discover the world behind the scenes."
Jenna nods, and we head towards the trailer's exit, ready to face the set and the start of filming. As we step out, I still feel the slight tension in the air, but also a new awareness of our friendship strengthening.
The set is a world of its own, full of activity and creativity. With every step, I feel more and more involved in this adventure, immersed in the magic behind creating a TV show.
Jenna introduces me to various team members, each with their crucial role in the production. There's a contagious energy in the air as we prepare for the takes. I can't wait to see Jenna in action and witness this spectacle coming to life, with her at the center of it all.
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never gonna forget that my bald history teacher put my friends wig on and then clipped a jojo siwa bow in it.
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dancingazaleas · 3 years
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miche zacharias | lesson learned
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HEYY MR MICHE ZACHARIAS 😻
tagging: @yeagerslut (i never shut up abt him to them), @izukine @mitsuluv @kuroosperiodictable @xenihime
edit: i’m so unmotivated to write and i’ve been busy sorry besties😫
warnings/notes: cursing, dark content, smut, stepcest, stepdad!miche, fingering, daddy kink, choking, overstimulation, squirting, lmk if i missed anything!
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your legs quiver while you thrust your fingers in and out of yourself, cheeks warm like a fire. you’re trying to be as quiet as you can be with your stepdad in a room a few doors away. it’s a little hard with the way your fingers are rubbing against your sweet spot, though.
you let out a small squeak as the thrusting of your fingers start to hit their mark, teeth immediately clamping down on your bottom lip. you’re trying so hard and you’re getting there, to the edge of an orgasm. but before you can tip over said edge, you hear your door creaking open.
you pull your hands out of you, coming face to face with your brooding stepdad.
“sorry, i thought i heard a squeak or something…” miche says, eyes inappropriately glued to your glistening cunt.
you're way too mortified to move, the only thing you can manage to do is give a shaky nod. and it doesn’t get better whenever miche starts walking to you, fear flooding your body. you look up at him, thighs closing as he gets closer and closer to you.
“don’t be scared,” his voice is gruff, igniting small butterflies in your stomach, “i just wanna make you feel good. teach you how to do it correctly.”
your mouth hangs open with disbelief, but you give a shy nod at the realization that you do have a hard time having an orgasm on your own. he lets out a low hum, shuffling into your bed behind you and against your headboard with his legs spread. you can feel his hard-on against your back when he gathers you to his chest and spreads your legs.
his left arm has your shoulders in almost a chokehold position while his hand strokes your labia tauntingly. you buck your hips just a tad, earning a soft and throaty chuckle from miche.
his fingers rub slow circles into your clit, soft whimpers falling from your lips. his fingers slyly slip down to your slit, two of them slipping inside of your tight walls with the smallest tinge of a burn. you’re tearing up, your fingers were so tiny compared to his own and they’d never filled you up just as much as miche’s did.
“hurts!! hurts,” you cry while grabbing at the sheets, biting your lip in hopes of stopping the crying.
your pain does not deter miche however. his fingers scissor apart inside of you, slightly prolonging the pleasurable burn in you.
you feel so full, like something was in your throat rather than your pussy. it’s a nice feeling and it leaves you craving just a bit more.
“m-more… please,” you sniffle, hips wigging.
“no,” he grumbles into your ear, “you’re not ready.”
you give a shaky nod, instead asking him to make you feel good like he’d promised you. he lets out a huff into your hair, slowly rocking his fingers in and out of you to avoid any pain. however, this only leaves you frustrated along with whiny.
“miche, more, more please,” you hiccup, starting to rock your hips onto his thick fingers desperately.
he lets out a chuckle but indulges in your request, fucking you with his fingers with more fervor than before. you arch your back against miche’s front, crying out.
“f-fuck, daddy, more please,” you sob once miche stills his fingers, small smile lighting up his face.
“you gonna cum for daddy,” he asks lowly, jackhammering his fingers in and out of you whilst tightening his grip on you.
“ye—fuck! yes, yes!” you gasp, almost choke, when miche starts to rub the heel of his palm into your clit.
“go ahead, cum for daddy,” he says, and you do just that.
the orgasm that washes over you is intense, making your legs convulse and you sob out louder than anytime you had before.
“what do you say,” miche gropes at your chest with his free hand, absentmindedly rolling your nipples between his fingers.
“thank you, thank you, daddy,” you sniffle, eyelashes fluttering when he looks at you.
he gives you a soft kiss on your lips as a reward, starting to thrust his fingers into you once more. you whimper weakly against his mouth, pulling away to grab at his hand for it to stop.
“sensitive, ‘m too sensitive, daddy,” you dig your nails into his wrist, trying to resist the urge to grind against his fingers.
his other hand grabs you by your throat, slamming you against his broad chest with a choked gasp.
“you don’t get to decide when this is done,” miche says, “you’ve got one more in you, don’t you? you can cum once more time for daddy.”
you cry as his fingers thrust in and out of you vigorously, already starting to feel a knot in your tummy as his pace continues. his other hand still grips onto your throat, not enough to stop your breathing, but enough to hold you down. and it feels oddly good.
“daddy,” a drawn out moan falls from your mouth, eyes rolling back into your head while he continues.
“one more,” he mumbles, “one more till daddy can take care of you.”
you whine in response, legs clamping down around his hand. it doesn’t stop him though.
his thrusting becomes more erratic as his fingertip brushes against the spongy spot inside of you, leaving you with a mouth hung open from your moans.
miche, once again, rubs the heel of his palm against your puffy clit. you scream aloud, drool falling from you lip and down to your jaw while you aimlessly start grinding your hips on miche’s fingers.
“daddy! gonna cum, gonna cum,” you squeeze your glossy eyes shut, legs almost flailing about against his hand.
miche fastens his speed, an odd feeling sneaking up into your gut.
“thank you! thank you, daddy! thank you,” you babble frantically, squirting all over miche’s rough hands.
miche hums against your hair, pulling his fingers out of you to rub your clit to help prolong your orgasm. you squeal, hips bucking wildly.
when miche decides that enough, he brings his fingers up to his lips. he gives a single sniff followed by a satisfied hum then dips the fingers into his warm mouth.
after this, you don’t think your stepdad is all that scary.
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immasock · 2 years
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hello hi!
can i get obey me bros with female reader, who has a really long hair and she has problems with making hairstyles?
┌(★o☆)┘
Of course! I’ve got some female friends with this problem
I really hope you like it! I feel like I kinda rushed belphies part but hopefully it’s good
Pronouns: She/Her
The brothers with an MC who has really long hair that she has trouble styling
Lucifer:
First things first
He loves your hair
He loves to run his fingers through it while you’re on his lap when he’s at his desk doing his copious amounts of paperwork
Or during those rare moments when you’re both in bed together cuddling
He loves it best when it’s down
Don’t get me wrong
He love your hair no matter how you style it
He can just play with it best when it’s down
That being said he does think it’s kind of cute when you don’t know what to do with it
I feel like he was one of the ones who helped Lilith do her hair in the celestial realm so I think he has at least a basic understanding of a few different feminine hairstyles
Meaning that if you get a little frustrated when you’re trying to figure out how to tame your hair
He will gladly offer to help
Honestly I think he really enjoys doing your hair when you allow him to
It’s kinda relaxing for both of you
Mammon:
Mammon also really likes your hair
Like
A lot
When you two are snuggling on the couch in either of your rooms during one of your many movie nights, he loves to braid little pieces of your hair
It’s not hard so it’s something that he can do absentmindedly while watching whichever movie you guys decided to watch that night
Plus he thinks it looks really good on you
I fully believe that he was also one of the ones that helped with Lilith’s hair a lot when they were growing up
He takes his job as older brother very seriously
And he’s a model so while he may not have to have his hair done like that, he does have a lot of female models he works with
So he is probably one of the better options if you want to go to someone for advice on how to deal with your hair
Leviathan:
I’m gonna be honest with you
Do not go to Levi if you need help with your hair
He’s not completely ignorant when it comes to feminine hairstyle since he does have a little sister
But most of his knowledge on the subject comes from the weird styles he sees in whatever new anime he’s hyperfixated on at the moment
Meaning that if you ask him how you should do your hair he’s probably going to, very excitedly, send you a bunch of pictures of anime girls he’s simping over
He knows how to do hair
He canonically cosplays so he’s styled wigs before
He just doesn’t know how to do normal, basic hairstyles
Satan:
He is another one who is in love with your hair
His favorite thing to do is to be on his bed or on a couch with your head on his lap so he can stroke your hair as he’s reading
Its kinda like petting a cat
Original I know
Anyways
He never knew Lilith and he doesn’t have any other important female in his life
Besides you
I feel like he started reading a bunch of barber and hairstyle books as soon as he found out you were having trouble deciding on what to do with your hair
So I think he’s got feminine hairstyling down
On paper that is
He’s got the theory down but actually trying it out is a whole other issue
He’s not very good at it
He pulls too hard when he’s brushing it out or when he’s trying to move a piece of hair somewhere and he just can never get it to look quite right
He gives up pretty quickly so that you don’t have to see him get angry
He may or may not borrow one of Levi’s longer wigs to practice on tho
Asmo:
He wishes he had your hair
Seriously
He loves how long and beautiful it is
He loves doing hair masks with you on his mandatory spa days to keep your hair nice and healthy and shiny
He loves to play with it too of course
It’s so soft and he just adores it
Of course he adores every part of you
But your hair is just so pretty he can’t help himself
He is definitely the best person to go to for help
He loves trying out a bunch of different hairstyles he saw on Devilgram on you
It’s almost therapeutic honestly
Beelzebub:
Beel likes your hair
He thinks it’s really pretty
He just isn’t one to do anything with it very often
He usually has leftover residue pr grease ok his hands from whatever his latest snack was anyways so he doesn’t want to get any of that in your hair
Plus he’s a large man which means large hands so his hands would probably get stuck in your hair if he tried doing anything
Honestly the only thing he would be willing to do is brush your hair
But even then he’s really strong and doesn’t always know his own strength so he would most likely end up pulling really hard
I mean if you really wanted him to and asked real nicely
Like with the puppy dog eyes and everything
He would probably agree to doing your hair
But I would leave that to someone else if I were you
Belphie:
I feel like this man could not care less about your hair
He likes it sure but that’s mainly just cause he likes you
It gets in the way when he’s trying to cuddle you since it’s so long
No one likes a mouthful of hair when they’re trying to nap so I think he insists that you put it up when he’s trying to nap with you
All that being said I think he knows how to do a couple basic hairstyles for you
He watched his sister do her hair a bunch when they were younger so he picked up a few things
He has a huge soft spot for you so if you asked him to he would help you with your hair
He won’t be excited about it since he could be napping with you instead but he does like spending time with you
Plus after it’s been put up he can snuggle you
So win-win
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beifongsss · 4 years
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playing with fire pt. 5 [sokka]
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Pairing: Sokka x reader
Summary: You’re a Fire Nation citizen who saves Sokka and Katara from some angry villagers. Aang “convinces” you to come along with them, finding your knowledge of the nation useful. Not everything is smooth sailing though as both Water Tribe siblings have their doubts about you.
this will be a series :D this takes place during The Chase!
w.c.~5.1k
prologue. one. two. three. four.
.masterlist.
~
Toph was a breath of fresh air. She was unapologetically herself, and you loved it. 
However for Katara, it was a little stressful. 
“Hey you guys picked a great campsite!” Toph exclaimed, digging her toes into what she thought was grass. “The grass is so soft!”
You snickered at Sokka’s displeased expression as he looked down at the ground before turning to face Toph. “Sorry shortcake, that’s not grass you’re standing on. Appa’s shedding.”
“Oh gross!” Katara exclaimed, raising her foot as she examined the fur. 
“That’s not gross!” Aang chirped. “It’s just a part of spring! You know, rebirth, flowers blooming, and Appa gets a new coat!”
“Ah, the beauty of spring,” Katara replied sarcastically, earning a muffled laugh from you. Aang gave you a betrayed look and you simply shrugged, trying to keep the smile off of your face. 
“She’s right,” you said, looking at the Air Nomad apologetically. “It’s a little disgusting.”
Appa chose that moment to sneeze, sending up plumes of fur all around you. You coughed lightly, feeling some of the fur land on your tongue. 
“Stop! Appa, stop! Ugh!” Katara cried out, trying to brush off the fur that now clung to her clothes. 
“It’s not that bad Katara,” Sokka said, his back facing Katara as he bent over. He turned around proudly, meeting Katara’s unsettled face. “It makes a great wig!”
Katara looked at you expectantly, a disgusted look on her face. Her expression dropped when she saw you laughing and egging her brother on before bending down and creating a mustache out of fur. 
“Look! It also makes a great mustache!” you exclaimed, causing Aang to laugh along with you. Sokka looked at you dreamily, happy that the two of you shared a sense of humor. 
“And a great beard!” Aang added, stroking the beard he had created. Katara looked at all of you with disappointment before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.
“I’m just glad we have another girl in the group, because you three are disgusting,” Katara said, brushing off the last of the fur from her clothes.
“Excuse me, does anyone have a razor?” Toph asked innocently, walking up behind you. “Because I’ve got some hairy pits!”
The three of you cackled loudly as Toph raised her arms, revealing the fur she had stuffed into her sleeves. Katara shook her head as she watched the four of you, a smile tugging at her lips. Aang chose that exact moment to sneeze, flying back into Appa’s side and sending up another cloud of fur. This just caused you all to laugh even harder, Sokka patting your back when you breathed in some fur. Even Katara chuckled lowly, and eventually you began to set up camp. 
Sokka was out looking for firewood as you and Aang set up the tent. Katara sat a few yards away from you, getting started on dinner. Toph was lounging on the ground a few feet away from Katara, lazily chewing on a piece of wheat. 
“So, you and Sokka?” Aang asked, drawing your attention to him. Sokka entered the clearing as if on cue, walking over to the weak flame near Katara and setting the firewood down next to her. He straightened and shot you and Aang a confused look, noticing your glances. You looked away immediately, a blush spreading across your cheeks.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you muttered in response, rolling your eyes when Aang giggled. 
“We can all tell that you like each other,” Aang said, unfolding the tarp. “He even got you that necklace to show you how he feels!”
You absentmindedly reached for the pendant that hung delicately from your neck, running your fingertips over it as you smiled at Sokka. The Water Tribe boy noticed and shot you a dazzling smile in return before turning to watch over the pot Katara had left unattended.
“And we can all tell that you like him back,” Aang said casually, smiling when you opened your mouth to reply but shut it, knowing he was right. “I think you should go for it. It’s not like he’s gonna say no.”
The conversation stopped before you could reply as a loud rumbling reached your ears. You turned to see Toph laying under an earth tent, Katara fuming as she walked away. You exchanged a worried look with Aang before continuing to set the tarp up in silence, occasionally shooting a glance at Katara who seemed to be trying to control her temper. 
There was a tense atmosphere surrounding the campsite for the rest of the afternoon and all of you tiptoed around Katara as you tried to not set her off. Things only got worse when Katara attempted to apologize and Toph made a comment about how tired she seemed. Katara’s eyes twitched for the next few minutes. Night fell soon enough and you found yourself drifting off to sleep, only to be awoken by Toph’s voice.
“There’s something coming towards us!”
“What are you talking about, shortcake,” you grumbled, rubbing your eyes as you sat up. Toph gave you an irritated look.
“What is it?” Aang asked.
“It feels like an avalanche, but not an avalanche,” Toph replied, pressing her hand against the ground.
“Your powers of perception are frightening,” Sokka said sarcastically, smiling down at you when you hit him softly. 
“Should we leave?” Katara asked worriedly.
“Better safe than sorry,” Aang replied, already packing up his stuff. The rest of you followed his lead, climbing onto Appa and taking off. You sat next to Sokka, digging your face into the crook of his neck as you tried to relax. Sokka could feel his heartbeat speed up as he looked down at you, blushing when he noticed Aang’s knowing gaze. 
“What is that thing?” Katara asked, gazing at something in the distance. Sokka followed her gaze, being careful not to disturb your position. Down below, a tank-like machine was making its way through the land. No one answered Katara and soon enough, they landed. 
Toph was the first one to hop down from Appa, sighing in relief as her “sight” returned to her. “Ah, sweet land! See you guys in the morning!”
“Actually, can you help us unload?” Katara asked as you all made your way down to the ground.
“Really?” Toph asked in disbelief. “You need me to unload Sokka’s funky-smelling sleeping bag?”
You let out a laugh at Toph’s words, biting your lip when Sokka looked at you in mock-anger. 
“Well, yeah,” Katara said lightly. “That and everything else. You’re a part of our team now and-”
“Look! I didn’t ask you to help unload my stuff,” Toph interrupted Katara. “I’m carrying my own weight!”
“That’s not the point!” Katara cried angrily, taking a step towards Toph. “Ever since you’ve joined us, you’ve been nothing but selfish and unhelpful!”
“What?” Toph screeched. “Look here, sugar queen. I gave up everything I had so that I could teach Aang earthbending. So don’t you talk to me about being selfish!”
“Should we stop them?” you asked sleepily, leaning against Sokka’s side. Sokka looked down at you, smiling as you yawned before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. Aang and Sokka flinched as Toph raised another earth tent around herself, blocking Katara out. 
“Maybe we should do something,” Aang said nervously. 
Sokka looked at his sister before glancing as you, your arms now wrapped tightly around him as well as you rested your head on his chest. “Nah, I’m fine just watching the show.”
Aang smiled at the sight in front of him before walking away, ready to try and calm Katara down. Sokka gently led you over to the sleeping bags, gently setting you down before turning to walk away. Your hand shot out, grasping the sleeve of his shirt and bringing him to a stop. 
“Stay,” you mumbled, your words slurred by sleep. “You’re warm.”
Sokka looked around hesitantly before letting himself be dragged down by you. He settled into the space next to you and you automatically drifted closer to him, burying your face into his chest once again. His arms wrapped around you, bringing you close and causing you to sigh softly as you felt his warmth envelope you. 
Of course, good things never last long and as soon as Sokka found himself drifting off to sleep, the ground began to shake. 
“Hey!” he called out, sitting up and looking at Toph. “How’s a guy supposed to sleep with all this earthquaking going on?”
“The thing is back!” Toph cried, letting her tent fall. 
“Well how far is it?” Sokka mumbled, laying back down and holding you close. “Maybe we can close our eyes for just a few more minutes.”
“I don’t think so Sokka,” Aang replied sadly, noticing the smoke cloud that seemed to be getting closer. 
You whimpered softly as Sokka untangled himself from you, earning yourself a soft look from the Water Tribe boy. “Sorry (Y/N/N), we have to go.”
You all boarded Appa, eyes drooping as you flew over the mountainous terrain. You leaned against Sokka yet again, curling up on the saddle with your head in his lap. His hands ran through your hair, lulling you into a hazy, half-asleep state.
“Seriously, what is that thing?” Katara asked.
“And how does it keep finding us?” Toph added.
“I don’t know,” Aang said, the bags under his eyes more prominent. “But this time, I’m going to make sure we lose it.”
Appa flew a great distance before landing. Sokka immediately climbed off of the sky bison, spreading a blanket and laying down with you as the two of you ignored the arguing. Aang was playing mediator again, trying to calm the two girls down while asking the right questions. 
“Come on guys, there's something after us and we don't even know what or who it is.”
“It could be Zuko,” Katara mumbled. “We haven’t seen him since the North Pole.”
“Who’s Zuko?” Toph asked, her interest piqued. 
“Just some angry freak with a ponytail who’s tracked us all over the world,” Sokka muttered in response, rolling on to his back when you sat up. 
“What’s wrong with ponytails, ponytail?” Katara asked teasingly. You bit back a smile.
“This,” Sokka said, pointing at his hair. “Is a warrior’s wolf tail!”
“Well it certainly tells the other warriors you’re fun and perky!” Katara joked. You couldn’t hold your laugh back this time. 
“Zuko is the prince of the Fire Nation,” you explained to Toph. “He was banished by his father, the Fire Lord, and sent on a quest to capture the Avatar.”
“How do you know that, princess?” Toph asked.
“Gossip travels quickly in the colonies, shortcake,” you replied, laying back down and curling into Sokka’s side. The peace and quiet didn’t last long and soon enough, you found yourselves standing on the edge of the cliff. Aang wanted to see who was in the tank-like machine, and so you found yourselves staring unamusedly as three komodo-rhinos emerged from the machine. 
“It’s Azula,” you whispered, suddenly wide awake. “And Mai and Ty Lee.”
“We can take them,” Toph said, suddenly determined. “Four on three.”
“Actually Toph, there’s five of us,” Sokka said, annoyed.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t count you,” Toph replied, not sounding sorry at all. “You know, no bending and all.”
“(Y/N) can’t bend either!” Sokka proclaimed, ignoring Top’s questioning gaze. “And I can still fight.”
“Okay, four on three, plus Sokka,” Toph said, a smirk on her face.
Sokka’s groan was ignored as Toph tried to slow down the girls to give everyone enough time to reach Appa. The sky bison flew away immediately, missing a plume of blue fire from Azula. You stayed in the air for a while, all of you wincing when the sun began to rise. The tiredness was getting to you and you leaned against the saddle, closing your eyes for just a minute. 
The next time you opened your eyes you were falling. 
“Aang!” you yelled loudly, waking Toph. 
“What’s going on?” Toph asked frantically. 
“Appa fell asleep!” Aang yelled back, a panicked look on his face. He did his best to wake the sky bison up as the rest of you clung onto the saddle. You reached for Toph, pulling her close as she tried to not panic. Appa leveled out for a few seconds as Aang managed to wake him up. He flew closer and closer to the ground, the exhaustion getting to him before he crashed into the ground. 
You landed on the ground roughly, toppling off of the saddle. You were still clutching Toph in your arms, letting her go as she scrambled to her feet.
“You okay, shortcake?” you asked warily, knowing that being in the air was daunting for Toph.
“Just peachy, princess,” she grumbled back. “Thanks.”
You didn’t reply, instead focusing on Katara who was now back to yelling. “Of course we could’ve gotten some sleep earlier, if Toph didn’t have such issues.”
The earthbender went red with anger before stomping over to Katara. “What?!”
Sokka sidled up to you as the argument grew. “What should we do?”
“I don’t know anymore,” you groaned, flopping onto the ground. You listened lazily as Toph insulted Appa, blaming his shedding as the reason Azula kept finding you. You couldn’t help but agree with her; Appa was losing a lot of fur. 
“That’s it!” Toph suddenly yelled. “I’m out of here!”
You shot up straight, running to stop the girl. “Toph, wait. Don’t do this.”
“No!” Toph said, pushing you to the side. “I know when I’m not wanted.”
She stomped away, sending a wall of rock up behind her to prevent anyone from going after her. You turned to Aang, a disbelieving expression on your face. “Aang! Why?”
Aang sat on the ground, upset. “What did I just do? I can’t believe I just yelled at my earthbending teacher! Now she’s gone.”
“I know,” Katara said sorrowfully. “We’re all just trying to get used to each other. And I was so mean to her.”
“Yeah, you two were pretty much jerks,” Sokka said, coming up beside you and throwing his arm over your shoulder. 
Katara gave him a dull look. “Thanks Sokka.”
“No problem!”
“We need to find Toph and apologize,” you said, meeting Aang’s sad gaze. 
“Okay, but what are we going to do about the tank full of dangerous ladies chasing us?” Sokka asked.
Aang bent down and picked up a handful of fur before letting the wind blow it away. “I have a plan.”
~
The plan consisted of you giving Appa a bath. 
The sky bison grunted happily as you and Sokka brushed him, Aang and Katara bending water to douse the bison. Momo was lounging around on your head, occasionally flying away when the water got too close to him. Appa was napping happily as he sat in the river, letting the four of you do your thing. Once you were done, the four of you lounged on the riverbank, watching as Appa dried himself off. 
“Toph was right,” Aang said, breaking the silence. “The fur was leaving a trail right to us. But now that he’s clean, no more trail!”
“Are you sure he’s okay to fly?” Katara asked quietly. You all turned to look at the sky bison, his eyes drooping with exhaustion. 
“He'll be fine as long as we leave his saddle and all our stuff here,” Aang said. “I'm going to use Appa's fur to make a fake trail to lead the tank off-course. (Y/N) will come with me and you two will lead them away!”
The four of you separated as you readied yourselves, with you walking down to the river to splash water on your face to wake yourself up. You stiffened as you felt someone stand next to you, relaxing when you realized it was Sokka. 
“Stay safe out there, okay?” Sokka stated, his eyes peering intensely into yours. You nodded silently.
“You too,” you finally replied, trying to calm your heart as you noticed Sokka step closer. “We can’t have either of you getting hurt because we still have to find Toph.”
Sokka nodded before cupping your cheeks and pressing his lips to yours. You let out a strangled gasp, your breath hitching in your throat as you realized what was happening. You kissed back urgently, your heart racing incredibly fast. Sokka smiled into the kiss at your reaction before pulling away. “Be careful.”
You opened your mouth to reply before being cut off by Aang, who was standing a few feet away and had witnessed the whole thing. “Hey! Are you two ready to go?”
Katara stood next to the Air Nomad, a small smirk on her face as she took in her brother’s blushing face. She couldn’t deny that she wasn’t too fond of the Fire Nation, but you had proven yourself to them various times. If you made her brother happy, who was she to argue. 
You swallowed harshly, nodding softly before walking over to Aang. The four of you said your goodbyes before the Water Tribe siblings climbed onto Appa, holding on tightly as they set off without the saddle. You stood there with Aang, watching them disappear before you turned and set off down the other path. 
“So,” Aang said a while later, dropping a clump of Appa’s hair onto the ground before repeating the same words from a few days ago. “You and Sokka huh?”
Aang’s laugh rang out loudly as he was met with a groan from you. 
~
After a while, you and Aang found yourselves sitting in the middle of a road in an abandoned town. Neither one of you spoke, both of you way too exhausted and anxious for the fight you knew was about to come. The sun was setting, covering the both of you in a subtle glow as you awaited the arrival of the Fire Nation Princess. In the distance, you could see something moving and you straightened, nudging Aang with your elbow in the process. 
A mongoose lizard became visible as it neared, a cloud of dust surrounding the animal as it hurried. The princess dismounted, her feet landing on the dusty ground, a clump of fur being crushed under her foot. Aang looked at her tiredly, glancing at you to see a hard glare on your face. 
“Alright, you’ve caught up to us, Azula,” he said calmly. “What now?”
“You know who I am?” Azula asked, mildly surprised. She glanced at you, cocking an eyebrow before turning her attention back to Aang. “Of course you do. (Y/N) always did ruin the surprises.”
You stayed quiet, your gaze never leaving Azula. 
“Now? Now, it's over. You're tired and you have no place to go,” Azula continued. “You can run, but I'll catch you.”
“I’m not running,” Aang stated, determined to make his stand. Azula nodded in satisfaction, her eyes drifting over to you before she tilted her head in a silent question. 
“Neither am I,” you said, standing up. Azula smirked, brushing her bangs to the side as she noticed the way you gripped your sword.
“Do you really want to fight me?” Azula asked, taking a step towards you. 
“Yes I do!”
“Zuko!” you and Aang yelled at the same time, eyes widening as they landed on the young prince. His ponytail was gone, his hair shorter than it had been in a long time. 
“I was wondering when you’d show up, Zuzu,” Azula remarked. 
“Zuzu?” Aang asked, trying to stifle his laughter. You let your laugh out, drawing Zuko’s attention to you. 
“(Y/N)!” he called out, taking a step forward before being blocked by the princess. “Back off, Azula. He’s mine!”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she replied, getting ready to fight. There was tense silence for a minute, the four of you looking at each other as you waited for someone to strike. You noticed Azula’s arm twitch and you lunged forwards, using the flat side of your sword to move her arm as she fired off a blue blast at Zuko. 
You landed in front of Zuko, blocking him from Azula as you held your sword out. Azula’s shocked expression easily melted away, being replaced by one of annoyance. She raised her hand to strike once more, turning away from you when she realized Aang was attempting to fly away. 
“Not so fast,” she growled, sending a stream of fire towards the young boy. You were too late to block her, watching worriedly as Aang went down. You were knocked down as Azula ran after Aang, Zuko following closely behind her. You stuck your leg out, managing to trip Zuko and laughing as he fell face first. 
The two of you sprung to your feet quickly, watching each other with wary eyes. You glanced behind Zuko worriedly, noticing that Aang and Azula had disappeared. Shaking your head, you brought your gaze back to Zuko. At least you could hold back one of the troublesome Fire Nation siblings. 
“Why are you doing this?” Zuko asked, breaking the silence as he lunged at you. You ducked uner his arm, hitting his back with the flat of your sword and sending him sprawling onto the ground. 
“You know why, Zuko,” you replied. “Aang is the only one who can end this war! Why are you doing this?”
“I need to regain my honor,” Zuko stated simply, brushing himself off before throwing himself at you again. The fight went on for a while, the two of you too well-versed with each other’s fighting styles for either one of you to get the upper hand. It was just like when you were children, the two of you dancing around each other as you tried to find each other’s weak spots. The fight ended when Zuko sent a blast of fire at you, hitting the ground before you and sending you flying. 
A loud ‘oof’ left your lips as you crashed into the side of a building, debris falling all around you and trapping you. You caught sight of Zuko’s apologetic glance before he ran away, shaking his head as he left. You didn’t know how long you were stuck there, hearing the blasts and explosions that were most likely a result of the two siblings. 
“Katara!” Aang’s voice cried out faintly. Your struggle lessened slightly, knowing that Aang now had help. You kept trying to push the debris off of you, gasping lightly when it was all suddenly thrown off of you. 
“Need a hand, princess?”
You looked up to see a smirking Toph, sighing in relief when you realized you were free. Thanks, shortcake.”
Toph’s smirk turned into a scow and she turned away from you, ready to join the battle. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Now let’s go kick some butt!”
You followed the small girl to the heart of the town, noticing Katara and Sokka fighting alongside Aang. They were trying to gang up on Azula, a plan you knew would fail. The princess sent an arc of fire out, throwing them all backwards. Without hesitation, you threw yourself at Azula, ignoring the shocked yells from your friends. You tackled the princess, the two of you rolling as you each tried to get the upper hand. You stood up first, noticing that you were a few yards away from your friends. Azula stood up quickly, smiling maniacally as she met your eyes before composing herself. 
“Well (Y/N/N), that’s no way to greet me is it?” Azula taunted, fire dancing among her fingertips. She angled her body away from you, ready to head back to the group. She was stopped when you smacked her calf with your sword. 
“Leave them alone Zula,” you said. She turned to you, her eyebrow raised. “Just me and you. Maybe this time you can finally prove you’re better than me.”
Your words caused her eye to twitch and you smiled, relieved that you had gotten her attention. She turned to face you completely, her fire growing as she took a menacing step towards you. 
“(Y/N)! What are you doing?” Katara shouted. You glanced at the group, noticing all of them (except Toph) looking at you worriedly. “You’re gonna get hurt!”
You ignored Katara’s words, deciding to strike first. Your sword came down towards Azula quickly, causing the younger girl to dodge and roll away. She snarled as she realized you had cut off a few locks of hair, looking at you with disdain. She rushed at you, aiming a blast at your chest. You stood your ground, ignoring your friends’ panicked shouts. You sidestepped slightly, once again bringing up the flat of your blade to move her arm off course like you had earlier. 
The fight continued like that, with Azula getting more and more angry as you kept blocking her hits. She got the upper hand when you jumped up, landing badly on your ankle and stumbling. Azula’s blast grazed your arm, causing you to collapse to the ground before you rolled over and leapt back up to your feet.
“C’mon!” Azula screamed, stalking closer to you. “Bend at me! Do it! Prove that you’re the best.”
Your eyes widened at her words, backing away as her fire began to spark. Your friends exchanged confused looks at Azula’s words. You weren’t a bender, you had proven that already. They watched as Azula’s attacks became fiercer, turning into lightning as she got closer to you.
“Bend at me!” Azula shouted again. “You can’t prove you’re the best without your fire. I refuse to be bested by you if you’re not giving it your all!”
She lunged at you and you brought your leg up, kicking her in the chest. She tumbled back, yelling in frustration at your actions. She ran at you again, this time being tossed to the side by a fire blast as Zuko ran in. He turned to face you and the two of you stood silently, watching each other with sad eyes. He crouched down, flames engulfing his hand as he prepared to fight you as well. 
“Prince Zuko,” Iroh’s voice rang out. “Don’t.”
“Why not?” Zuko answered brashly. “I’ll show her how much my bending has improved. We’re finally on the same level.”
The fight was over before it began as Azula stood back up. Everyone crowded around, much more focused on the girl than the fight that was about to take place. She looked at all of you, her eyes lingering on the burn she had left on your arm. She smirked, holding her hands up in surrender. 
“Well look at this,” Azula said, her gaze drifting from person to person. “Enemies and traitors working together. I’m done. I know when I’m beaten. You got me. A princess surrenders with honor, isn’t that right (Y/N/N)?”
You froze, watching her carefully as you tried to catch the double meaning in her words. You felt Iroh’s eyes on you, carefully watching as you stared down Azula. Everyone was tense, looking at Azula even though she was only staring at you. You heard Toph let out a tiny gasp, knowing that you were right. 
It happened in a second. Azula stepped forwards and aimed a bolt of lightning at Iroh. You had already predicted her move and threw yourself into the lightning’s way, ready to take the hit. Your plan failed however, when you were pulled back by someone.
“N-No!” you yelled struggling against the person’s hold. A large blast went off as everyone else attacked Azula, dust going everywhere. 
“Stop struggling (Y/N/N),” Zuko whispered into your ear, holding you tightly as you watched Iroh twitch as the lightning ran through his body. 
Everyone went silent when they realized Azula had disappeared, turning to see Iroh on the ground and you sobbing into Zuko’s chest as he held you tightly. 
“Let me go!” you cried, weakly punching Zuko. “Zu, please. He’s i-injured.”
“Take her and leave,” Zuko said, pushing you away from him and towards Sokka. Tears were beginning to stream down his face as he knelt down besides Iroh and hugged him. 
“Zuko, I can help,” Katara said softly, stepping closer. She was stopped when he sent out an arc of fire, sending them all stumbling back. 
“Leave!” Zuko shouted gruffly. They complied, walking away as you struggled against Sokka’s fold.
“Zu! Please, Zu!” you yelled out. “Let them help Iroh. Please.”
No one listened to you, instead choosing to pull you away from the injured general and the prince. By the time you had reached Appa, your sobs had lessened. The short flight was silent, the only sound being your occasional hiccups. You landed on a mountain, far away from anyone else. It was quiet; almost peaceful. However that didn’t last long and soon enough, you found yourself being pinned to the rocks behind you by Katara. 
“What was that?” she hissed. Her hold wasn’t strong and she looked more worried than upset. Aang’s eyes were wide as he stared at the two of you.
“Katara! What are you doing?” Sokka squawked, coming up to his sister and trying to pull her off of you. She dug her forearm into your throat just a little bit harder.
“Don’t defend her, Sokka!” Katara yelled out, her eyes still sad. “You heard what they said. She’s a bender.”
“No I’m not” you said, trying to push Katara’s eyes away. “I’ve already told you guys everything!”
“She’s lying,” Toph’s voice rang out. Everyone turned to look at her in confusion. She sighed before elaborating. “When someone lies, their heart speeds up. I can hear it with my feet.”
Everyone’s attention turned back to you, Katara’s stare hard this time. “So you’ve been lying. I knew we couldn’t trust anyone from the Fire Nation. I bet (Y/N) isn’t even your real name!”
“It is,” you whispered softly. You slipped out of Katara’s hold, handing her your sword before sitting down. “Look, I may have lied about who I am but I promise you that I was honest about my intentions. I really do want to help Aang defeat the Fire Lord.”
They all looked at Toph, who simply nodded softly. You weren’t lying. Katara crossed her arms, standing in front of you and taking a deep breath. “Tell us everything. Now.”
“Look, I told you my name. I didn’t tell you my title,” you said. You could feel everyone’s curious stares on you. Taking a deep breath, you mentally prepared yourself for what you were about to say before looking up.
“My name is (Y/N), Crown Princess of the Fire Nation.”
~
taglist!
atla: @musicalkeys, @mywigglybaby​​, @aangsupremacy​, @iguessthefloorislava​​, @dekahg​​, @boxofteenageideas​​, @bottledcostcowater​​, @butterflycore​​, @coldlilheart​​, @the-firebender-girl​​, @ajediherowitchrunner​​, @lammello​​, @astroninaaa​​, @samsmultifandomblogs​​, @sadskater25, @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak​​, @eternallyvenus​​, @emberislandplayers​​, @sunflowerazula​​, @moonnei​​, @stilllivindue2spite​, @knaite-solo​, @riespage​, @wastelandbbyg​
pwf: @ilovespideyyy, @binaryssunsets, @a—-rag, @existing-but-nonexistent, @milk-n-cheese, @itsthatsadbitch, @nin-tendou, @honey-ruel, @reclusive-chicken-nugget​, @teenbiology​, @davnwillcome​, @fandomarchiveilyd​, @minninugget​, @sukifans​, @nugget-barnes​, @vintageroses1014516, @donteatmycookiesplease​, @fanficdepot​, @birdlovinghyena​, @cipheress-to-k-pop​, @my--shitty--art​, @woohoney​, @castalette​, @lozzybowe​, @spacelesbianfanclub​, @macymafia​, @deadsunflower01​
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warmbeebosoftbeebo · 4 years
Text
Truth or Dare? 1/3 probably
much of the details about him in this fic is from things b has said in interviews, on periscope, twitch, twitter... see if you can guess what is true vs details/things i made up. other things, like most of his friends being girls (at least as a kid and teen) i don't think he's ever stated outright but i consider so damn obvious as you learn about him eg the bullying, his best friend in 8th grade was a girl. hopefully, all the things i remember him saying he's actually said and i didn't dream it/imagine it haha. also i love this fic so fucking much if i may say so. one of my faves, to be a braggart. in this universe, he never got introduced to spence or ryan, hence no mentions of them or panic! and him going off to arizona for cosmetology
tag list @greatheromuffinpalace @paypoulterer1 @anyh0w @anobsessioncalled @panicsinning @queerbrendon @prettyoddfiction @iwriteficsnottragediesladies @uriellybrendon @pageoftheclouds @brendonuriesbubblyass @ier0-must-die @itriedallthenamesiwantedaretaken @xfoxtalynx @spacesams00 @satanspuppet-x @1-800-hallelujah @ryrostan @tacobelltylerr @urie-dreams [just message me to be added or taken off the tag list]
----
You're watching Aladdin with Brendon, after Alice in Wonderland but before Bambi because you don't want to wind up crying yet. He's totally like Flower and Bambi. Loves flowers, flirty and doe-eyed, for starters. He's an Aladdin too, and is singing along with you as you're cuddled up on your bed with him, him absentmindedly playing with, brushing your hair. He stopped styling it a while ago, but you love having your hair played with, scalp massaged, neck too, as much as he does... Even that has arousal spreading, tickling over you.
You don't have class tomorrow, but he has a cosmetology one in the morning. He's still excited about not having someone telling him to get to bed though, and you're too relaxed, and uh... you like how you feel around him too much, how simple things, touches kind of turn you on, to suggest he get to sleep or leave your room. Besides, your roommate went home for the weekend. And these blankets and pajamas are comfy. You wind up getting into A Whole New World though: dramatic actions and singing, batting lashes at each other, giggling, pretending the bed is a magic carpet like the dorks you two are...
You offer your lap for his head to get pets in once the song ends... You love touching his hair. Watching his lashes, eyes, lips in the television light. Hearing his breathing deepening, his sighs, a couple mmms when you stroke the nape of his neck, tug his hair, scritch his scalp. You've only known him a couple months, but... whoo boy. Too bad he's gayer than the day is long. And kind of has a boyfriend from his program, George. Well, a friend with benefits.
“Truth or dare, B?” you ask when the movie ends, but neither of you move.
“'M sleepy from all those pets, y/n, so for once, I'm going with truth.”
“Were you like this as a kid? Was it musicals and wanting to do cosmetology and stuff back then too? Like not being... being... different. From how boys were supposed to be.”
He chuckles. “Pretty much. Did skateboarding for years, and some soccer, but that was pretty much the extent of the manly shit. Well, the heavy metal too. And lots of people did pot. But mostly the kind of things people thought boys shouldn't do. Most of my friends were girls. Still are. Liked making people laugh, entertaining them. Gymnastics, dance; just messing around not pro. Did sets for the drama kids in high school. I fit in with some guys, mostly chill stoner or art types, guys who weren't straight, but not many. Sometimes I had to fake it to get by with guys, if it even worked. But mostly stuff like the dress up box.”
“What'd you dress up as?”
“Different musical roles, like Maria and Cosette, Jean Valjean. I remember being about five and wrapping curtains around myself like a dress and singing Sound of Music. Cheerleader with the miniskirt and all from my older sister Kara. Uh... pirate, cowboy, or cowgirl. Elvis, Carly Simon, Gwen. Wanted to sound like her so bad. Beyonce. David Bowie in Labyrinth, without a proper wig though. And a few of the personas he had different eras too. Jareth was mixed up in a crush on him. Like I wasn't sure how much I wanted to play that role versus liked David... At twelve, with Jessica Alba, that was a lot clearer. Make up too, some wigs. Lots of my mom's clothes. I'm sure you can tell on that last one.” He still wears women's jeans now. And hoodies, shirts, a couple pairs of sneakers...
“Oh, a weird flower boy version of Rambo,” he laughs. “Like the headband, but my mom's blouse and jeans, a bouquet of flowers, heels, dad's sunglasses... Still have a picture of that one. And we have lots of home movies of stuff. Me being a lounge singer with a feather boa and gold dress... seducing my mom. Oh, shit, can't believe I just admitted that aloud. Anyway, there was firefighter, seamstress, servant, scuba diver, vet... Vampire, fairy, witch. Playing a mom or sister in plays, like sometimes one of my sisters would be the dad, I'd be the mom, or we'd be three sisters. Or they'd be the mom and dad and I'd be their baby. I remember one where I was pregnant—pillow and doll baby, haha—and Kyla was the pirate doctor helping me deliver on the ship. Or the damsel in distress being rescued by them. Or kidnapped by them. Or we had to save our mom, the queen, from a dragon or evil king.”
They were imaginative too! You're picturing them, little Brendon in these outfits, roles. So cute, and silly, and did you say cute? He must've been adorable, playful and an entertainer back then, too. He's done an open mic a few times and sings and plays at parties with friends. You've seen him do it last Saturday, nervous but eager to sing and play guitar, or keyboard. He said that music was his favourite hobby, that he loves doing it, especially for people, but you had no idea how deep it went.
“Me in my sister's gymnastic leotard, but over my shorts because she didn't want it so close to my crotch.”
The crotch part makes you think of it: if he wears... uh, panties too? The thought makes you flush and feel embarrassed. You haven't seen him in a dress or skirt either, but he used to wear those. You wonder if he still does and you just haven't seen it. You think they'd suit him for some reason. The lavender hoodie, the pink sneakers, plus a miniskirt? Denim, or black. God, you bet that he'd look even better, draw you to him more.
“Wish we had dress up stuff to play with here, B. Bet it was fun. And I bet you looked so cute.”
He gets up, but it's to turn on the lamp; the tv had gone dark. He bats his lashes. “Oh, I did.”
You both laugh as you throw a pillow at him. “Goofball. Don't ever let me tell you you still look cute, then. And that I actually would want to see you with a dress up box.”
“Truth or dare?” he asks. You'd forgotten how this started.
“Truth?” Neither is a safe bet, so you just go with what he went with to even it out.
“Would you want to see me dressed up? Like... in things here... of yours?”
Your breath catches. Are you that obvious? You nod, asking “Truth or dare?”
He grins. “Whattaya think, y/n? Dare.”
“M-maybe... uh... a skirt? On you, I mean?”
“That can be arranged.” He practically bounces over to your closet, sorts through, deciding on a long soft blue and lilac hippieish flowery one that goes to your ankles, a purple plaid one that comes to your knees but would be two to three inches shorter on him, and your denim one that's so short it would be a mini on him. You wear it with black tights or other pants it's so short. Really, he picked most of them; you only have two others. He holds them out one by one, then places them over his hips: “Which one would fit me best?”
You get flustered, because you want to see the denim one most, but worry it would be too short for him. The plaid one? It gives “naughty schoolgirl” vibes to boys and men, older pervs included, so you don't wear it much, even though it reminds you of a newly formed coven of witches stuck at a Catholic school for some reason (you blame The Craft). You wonder what'd look like on him. You bet he's worn skirt school uniforms before, and that he'd get cheesy with it, calling you Miss and asking hammily but flirtatiously about extra credit, asking you to teach him, maybe bending over... which not going to lie, you do want if it got sexily funny, but you know it couldn't mean anything.
He grins. "Warning ya, my legs are really hairy, so you might wanna go with the longest one. What can I say, I've got Jewish legs."
You snort. "Guess I've got Jewish legs too: my hair is a light brown, but there's lots of it below my knees. I stopped shaving now that it's November." You can't help wondering if he's dressed up for Hallowe'en in a girl's costume, or in drag, and what he'd look like; even some guys who are kind of sexist and homophobic do that for Hallowe'en, so it wouldn't be out of the ordinary even outside of the gay bar you and he were let into a few times, because George knew the bouncer. Both of your first one, bar or gay bar.
"Oh, I bet I've got more than you," he jokes, and slides his pant leg up a bit, doing a "banananana" strip tease music thing, shaking his leg, making you both giggle.
"Go with the shortest one, B. Bet you'd look super sexy," you reply, hammily winking.
"No peeking!" he admonishes teasingly, hiding behind your closet door, but he pops his booty out and sways it before hiding again. His jeans quickly get flung towards you to him laughing, "Hey, you ever see that British film The Full Monty?"
"It's kinda tight on my ass, but loose on my hips. What can I say? I bring the booty. But your hips are more womanly than mine, alas," he sighs dramatically. “And your thighs are damn. Um. At least it covers my underwear. Pretty much.” He peeks out, excited. "Ready? I just wanna make sure you're prepared for my hairy ass legs, oh and my stunningly gorgeous ass."
"Pshaw, I know that that booty brings all the boys to your yard, you tramp." He's really a tease at that bar. Both guys his age and kind of older, but only one creep. He always drinks for free, gets you drinks too, and you alternately keep close and watch from afar and let him do his thing with said boys. He only talks with most, often dances, but if he likes the guy, the dancing goes beyond pg territory, kissing too, and he even went home with one of them.
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hey-mando · 7 years
Text
Prince Adam Headcanons
Yeah I just physically couldn’t. stop. myself…
Word Count: um…a lot. I might as well take out the dots and make it an imagine bc LOL I GOT A LIL CARRIED AWAY HERE
A/N: yes, I’m still working on my Gaston series, but while I’m writing that, here *dumps fanfic in ur lap* have these post-curse headcanons that I thought up at 4:00am of the purest most adorably precious cinnamon roll prince ever
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 Prince Adam still literally unable to wrap his mind around the fact, even weeks after the curse is broken, that someone could find it in them to love him in his darkest and most hopeless of times
  Adam, not surprisingly, suffering from post-curse nightmares. He’ll dream that he’s once again the vain, cruel prince who turned away the rose, and wake with hands clutching at his chest and face to make sure that they’re not animalistic and covered with fur again
 on nights when the dreams are particularly bad, he’ll wake you and you’ll stay up till dawn comforting him, his head on your chest or in your lap while you whisper soothing words and brush your hand through his hair
sometimes you’ll snuggle into him and place your cheek on his shoulder, bringing your fingers up to his face and tracing his cheekbones, his eyebrows, and his jawline with soft strokes to remind him that his features are human again, and always will be
Adam catches your hand and gently presses his lips against your fingertips, his eyes closing and his forehead furrowing before kissing your palm. When his eyelids open, his gaze locks on yours and you almost can’t breathe for the amount of love in his stunning blue irises that shine like moonbeams
eventually lulling him back to sleep by singing or reading softly, admiring the peacefulness of his expression as he dozes, marveling at how truly lucky you are to love someone so beautiful and pure and to have his love in return
having literally the most perfect and healthy relationship ever. Seriously, the two of you are the stuff of romance novels (the happy ones that aren’t all dramatic and angsty). You can practically read each others’ minds, which really comes in handy when trying to find each other new books to read. You know everything about each other. How you like your tea, what position you find most comfortable to sleep in, your favorite author, your favorite composer, even what things you find annoying or frustrating
One more time now: RELATIONSHIP GOALS
being able to match Adam’s mischievous side with your own. Don’t get me started on snowball fights during the winter seasons which always leave you soaked to the bone (much to Mrs. Potts’ amused dismay when you leave puddles through the halls and on the stairs) and grinning like idiots. Mud fights are frequent during the summer as well (poor Mrs. Potts indeed). You never miss a chance to enjoy the fresh scent of rain after a summer storm, so you head out with Adam to enjoy the dewy gardens…then come back looking like you bathed in a swamp
just. imagine. tho. You’ll be sitting on a bench glossing over a book, or breathing in the crisp warm air when all the sudden you glance up and see Adam looking at you from a few feet away, his lips upturned in a smirk and his gaze peering through his eyelashes. He slowly brings one hand around from behind his back and you see a ball of sticky brown mud oozing between his fingers. You barely have time to growl, “Don’t you even think about it.” before it smacks you in the face, instantly dribbling down your neck and shoulders. Adam’s deep laugh bounces off the statues before it’s cut off by the sound of mud splattering against the back of his head. Total chaos ensues, and the cleaning staff shares a collective sigh as the sound of hysterical laughter from the gardens meets their ears
fervent apologizing on both your parts to the gardeners afterwards
kisses. Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the camel, the k i s s e s. Kisses that stop time. Kisses that make the ground spin under your feet, or sometimes even make the ground disappear completely. Standing with your toes touching as Adam brings both hands to the sides of your face, dips his head and kisses you with such deep, slow passion that you forget who’s air you’re breathing, or you forget to breathe entirely. Gathering the fabric of his shirt in your hands and standing on your toes to be even closer to him. He brushes his thumbs across your cheeks, and when you finally break apart, you can’t move or draw oxygen for several seconds after. In these moments, if he were to ask you the sum of 2 + 2, you would only be able to answer with his name
waking up to feeling the feather-light touch of his lips against the side of your neck, along your jaw and on your cheek, unable to conceal the shudders that ripple along your skin or the butterflies that fluster uncontrollably around your stomach. Feeling him smile against your shoulder when he runs his hand along your arm and feels the goosebumps that his actions have caused, asking in a deep, husky morning voice if you’re cold or if there’s some other reason for the reaction. You sit up and stuff a pillow in his face
he’s not the only one who uses affection to rouse the other from sleep. Before the break of dawn, you’ll wrap your arm around his torso and lightly trail kisses across his features. On each of his closed eyelids, his nose, his cheeks, the corner of is mouth until the arm that he has around your shoulders tightens and pulls you against him, his lips spreading in a drowsy smile. After he’s awakened, you wrap yourself in blankets and lead him by the hand through the silent castle until you reach the tallest tower. There you stand in his arms, his lips pressed to the top of your head as the two of you watch the sun rise over the distant hills and flood the skies with pale pink light
spontaneous dances. This is 100% a thing. Imagine standing in the library at one of the tables, alphabetizing a stack of volumes when Adam’s arms wind around your waist and his firm chest presses to your back. “Do you hear that?” he’ll ask softly, prompting you to grin as you hear Cadenza’s playing a few rooms away. Before you know it your swaying to the sweet rhythm, then Adam’s twirling you across the floor, lifting you into effortless spins and dipping you nearly to the floor, making laughter flow from your lips
making faces at each other from across the diner table
holding balls and dances at least once a month to stay connected with the rest of Villenueve, and even though Adam is supposed to be socializing, he can’t help staring at you practically the entire night
Plumette helping you get ready for said parties, lacing up your dress and fastening back rebellious strands of hair when Adam appears in the doorway, his eyes widening in loving disbelief at your astounding beauty, which of course makes your face turn the color of a ripe pomegranate. Plumette smiles, her hands on your shoulders as she says, “Isn’t she a vision, my prince?” Adam’s shakes himself from his stupor and responds, “One almost too beautiful to behold.”
your face reddens ten shades
pet names. And lots of them, though mainly “love” and “my darling”
      • “(Y/N), I’m not wearing that.”  
      “Oh come on, it’ll look wonderful.”
      “It will look ridiculous.”
     “But Lumiere looks so dashing in them, I don’t see why you wouldn’t.”
      “(Y/N), it’s got bloody bows in it.”
     “It makes it look more fashionable. Now just try it on!”
     “I’d rather be a beast again.”
     “Oh honestly, it’s just a wig.”
     “Take one more step and I’ll throw that thing in the fire.”
the staff of the castle may as well be payed family members. Plumette is of course your best friend, Adam’s being Lumiere. Mrs. Potts is a second mother to you, and Cogsworth is always overjoyed to play the part of the father figure. Maestro Cadenza and Madame Garderobe took you under their musical wings as soon as the curse was broken, and you can never go through a conversation with either of them without being called “my dear” or “darling” at least five times. Your closest bond however is with Chip, and often you’ll glimpse Adam sitting with the young boy on his lap as well, exploring the surface of an atlas or looking at old maps
Adam being brilliant with children, despite thinking that he’s not. Sometimes he’ll watch you interacting with Chip and find himself wondering what it would be like to start a family of your own someday, not noticing the soft smile that graces his lips at the thought of it
going on adventures together. Not major ones necessarily, but even small journeys through the nearby mountains and forests are enough to mostly quench your wanderlust. You’ll often drag him to the top of a hill that overlooks Villeneuve and the surrounding countryside, standing with hands linked as the wind rushes over you
returning from such journeys to the warm castle, Mrs. Potts setting out tea by the fireplace, and you curling up against Adam by the huge marble hearth, practically on his lap with your face buried in his thick, smooth hair. Your fingers absentmindedly play with the laces of his shirt, his heartbeat echoing smooth and steady against your chest. Adam draws you closer as the warmth of the crackling fire surrounds you in a drowsy haze, pressing his lips to your forehead and murmuring a tender, “I love you.” to which you smile and tilt your head up to meet his eyes. “And I love you. For evermore.” His smile makes your heart swell to the point where it aches with happiness. “For evermore,” he replies.
uuugghhhhhh save meh plz
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The Final Curtain, Chapter Ten
The Flight of the Robin, Part One
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Aleistor Chamber, or the Viscount of Druitt, stood at his full height in the doorway to the balcony and cast sweeping glances over the audience members with his amethyst eyes. He smiled, the same dashing yet sinister smile which sent shudders down the spines of all who knew him.
“How lovely to see such an impressive gathering of connoisseurs of the performing arts, all flocking here tonight beneath this celestial rooftop to watch my very own production!” the Viscount sighed, waving his hands about dramatically.
“Wha- his production?” Ciel hissed, his skin crawling. He had not forgotten the nature of the secret underground parties Viscount Druitt had once thrown, and his own narrow escape. He glanced down at his ticket. The Flight of the Robin, it read. He cringed, knowing he was in for a long night.
“The show will begin soon, but I could not allow it to start without first coming to personally greet all who have-” the Viscount gushed, but stopped and gasped when his eyes fell upon Matilda. Ciel resisted the urge to slap a palm to his face.
“Why...” Viscount Druitt whispered, rushing to Matilda’s side and grasping both of her gloved hands in his own. “Why, I declare I have never seen such an exquisite specimen as you! Cloaked in such deep scarlet like the blood pulsing through a heart impassioned with love, intriguing golden eyes like drops of the sun placed on the face of a porcelain doll by a goddess! I must confess that if I do not learn your name, my enrapturing cardinal, I shall live forever in regret until my final days!”
Matilda stared at the Viscount, completely speechless. She had barely inhaled to reply before Sebastian stepped in.
“This is the Lady Capucine Brodeur, a distinguished noblewoman who has traveled all the way from France to witness your masterpiece,” Sebastian smiled, intentionally adulating the Viscount to distract him.
Viscount Druitt put the back of his hand to his forehead and sighed. “France? How divine!” he gave a little start and glanced at his pocket watch. “I’m afraid I must be off now; the show must go on!”
And with that, the Viscount fluttered out of the balcony, leaving the bewildered party staring after him. Ciel rubbed his temples.
“I cannot believe I have to sit through this,” he muttered.
As the lights began to dim in the theatre, the earl noticed two women in one of the balconies across from them. One was wearing an aubergine gown and had fiery ginger hair, and the other wore an aqua gown and her hair was the dullest shade of brown. Both women were unusually pale and their eyes were underlined with purple, as if they had not slept for several days. Ciel pointed the two women out to Sebastian and the rest of the party, in a low voice as Aleistor Chamber addressed the audience from the stage.
“Those are the sisters who run Kurios Toy Emporium,” he whispered. “Florentia and Theodosia Loric. It makes sense that they would attend a ballet such as this; I expect they are always on the watch for inspiration for new products, as I am also.” In a much lower voice he added to Sebastian; “Keep an eye on them; they may just be sick or sleep-deprived, but they have the looks of people tormented.”
Sebastian nodded and whispered back, “Yes, my lord.”
The velvet curtain rose and the orchestra began to play the lively overture. Several ballerinas, all in costumes reminiscent of soirée attire, danced about the stage and pretended to mingle with one another. Ciel gritted his teeth and sank low in his seat as the prima ballerina appeared in the center of the stage, her costume an imitation of the pink and black dress he had worn himself while going undercover for the Jack the Ripper case. He could hear Sebastian snickering behind him and knew that no amount of glaring would stop the butler’s laughter. Beside him, Matilda gasped quietly and lowered the opera glasses.
“I do know her,” she whispered to Ciel. “She is wearing a wig, but I still recognize her face.”
Ciel nodded at this confirmation, relieved to have extra help on the case. With his heightening senses and Sebastian’s dulling ones, the end result was that they both became rather average, and until they could find a solution to that predicament the earl would need all the help he could get for Underworld cases.
The production dragged on for Ciel, though Elizabeth, Soma, and Matilda appeared to be enjoying it. Lau and Ran Mao had, it seemed, stopped paying attention. The earl suffered through watching the ballerina interpretation of himself flirt with the male ballerina playing Viscount Druitt during an especially cheap scene in the woods. He did have a laugh, however, when two male ballerinas reenacted the magic trick Sebastian and Lau had performed at the party that night. Sebastian, too, could not help but smile at the dramatic portrayal.
“If I could not provide a distraction worthy of being replicated in a ballet,” he muttered to himself. “What kind of a Phantomhive butler would I be?”
The curtain fell as the ballerina playing Sebastian stepped out of the sword-addled wardrobe unharmed, and the theatre brightened to signal intermission. Ciel turned to Matilda.
“After the show is over, see if you can meet Bryony outside.” he instructed. “Try and find out what’s going on. I wish I knew more of what Her Majesty was concerned about, then I could give you clearer orders, but for now I only know that something sinister is tied to this ballet. Find out as much about that as you can.”
“Of course, Lord Phantomhive,” Matilda nodded, polishing the opera glasses absentmindedly. She had yet to take her eyes off the stage.
Ciel shifted in his seat to face Sebastian. “And you: after the show, find the Loric sisters and set up a meeting between them and myself for the next opening in my schedule.”
“Yes, my-”
Sebastian’s signature reply was cut short by another surprise arrival in the balcony.
“Fancy seeing you here, Lord Phantomhive,” came a grouchy voice from the left side. All nine heads turned in that direction once more, and the face that greeted them was just as familiar as that of the Viscount, though much more grave.
“I could say the same for you,” Ciel retorted, his expression almost smug. “Sir Arthur Randall.”
Sir Arthur, the police commissioner of Scotland Yard, glowered at Ciel before noticing Matilda. “And who might you be?”
“Bonsoir monsieur,” Matilda introduced herself in French, surprising the entire party. “Je m’appelle Vicomtesse Capucine Brodeur. Comment allez-vous?”
“Where was that during the meeting with the Viscount?” the earl muttered, his face positively blue with annoyance. Shaking it off, he turned to the police commissioner. “So why are you here, Sir Arthur?”
“I know just as much as you do, Watchdog,” the gruff man seethed. “Perhaps even less.”
Ciel crossed his arms and scoffed. “Well, I don’t know very much. I was given my orders with as little detail as possible. Frankly I was hoping you knew more than I, that way you could tell me what I lack in this case.”
Sir Arthur grimaced at Ciel before admitting, “This particular troupe seems to be the target of several attempted murders. Never the same technique twice, but always with the apparent intention of eradicating the prima ballerina.”
Matilda’s eyes grew wide and she gasped, refraining at the last moment from exclaiming in shock and fright. Sebastian had only to look at her to understand what would have come out of her mouth had she not covered it up: Not Bryony!
“My my,” Lau smiled coolly, stroking Ran Mao’s thigh. “This intermission is shaping up to be far more interesting than the ballet itself, don’t you think so, Ran Mao?” The assassin nodded silently as usual.
“I see,” Ciel mused aloud. “So Her Majesty is concerned for the safety of this ballerina and the apparent obsession with her death. Are there any clues regarding who might be the perpetrator in these attempted crimes?”
“None yet,” Sir Arthur growled. “But you can be sure Scotland Yard will handle it as soon as any clues surface. You, Watchdog, may stay out of this.”
“And if it turns out to be something far more sinister than what the Yard is used to?” the earl inquired smugly. “What will you do when you find yourself up to the ears in unexplained phenomena?”
The commissioner gritted his teeth. “Scotland Yard will take care of this,” he repeated, stumped by Ciel’s question. He seemed to want to say more but was abruptly prevented by Edward Abberline, who had been standing quietly behind him the entire time.
“Hello there, Lord Phantomhive!” he exclaimed, quickly inserting himself between Ciel and Sir Arthur. He grinned nervously, hoping to contain the conflict before it grew too large for the theatre balcony. “Such a very interesting show tonight, isn’t it? Simply fascinating. Unfortunately, the commissioner and I must be off now-“ he gave Sir Arthur a pointed look. “We will undoubtedly run into you again before this is all over. Have a nice night!”
Sir Arthur stared at Abberline, wishing he could strangle the life out of the impertinent inspector right then and there. Exhaling heavily, he threw a final glare in Ciel’s direction before departing. “Your compulsion to protect that detestable brat, Abberline,” the commissioner muttered as they returned to their own seats. “Will land you in a mire of troubles one of these days.”
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“Don’t let them take your heart” (Year 11 Advanced English Creative Writing Draft)
Dear Ella,
I wonder if you recognised my wiring on the tattered envelope decorated with stained stamps which housed this letter you are now reading. I wonder if you opened it straight away, or if you sat it down on your lap, staring at it for what felt like a lifetime. I wonder if you even read it all, if I am even being heard by you. And I wonder if you ever still think about me, about us, about everything that happened. If you wonder where I am, how I am doing, how I got there. This letter is to explain that. I hope you understand where i’m coming from, and more importantly, I hope you find the bravery to try to understand it. This is my story.
My fingers ran absentmindedly through her chaotic hair, losing themselves in the tangles and waves of her midnight locks. “You know,” she smirked, gazing down at me, “I could always make you a wig? Or maybe a doll? That way you’ll always have someone to play with, even when you’re cursed with the lack of my presence.” Laughing, I forced myself to withdraw my hands from her mane. Control; I’ve never been much good at it, especially when it comes to her. “Hey, what are you doing?” She grabbed my hands before they had time to return to their position by my side, holding them in hers. Our fingers, touching. Our fingers, interlocking. Our eyes, meeting… “oh, um, you said…I thought…” Blushing dramatically, I could feel myself turning all kinds of crimson. I could only imagine how much she was enjoying this. “I didn’t say to stop, did I?” Her gaze locked with mine, challenging me. Everything was a game with her. Then, with parents and a reputation like hers I suppose it kind of had to be. Slowly, her gaze softened, her hand moving to stroke the side of my face. “How can something so wrong, feel so right?” She sighed, leaning in closer, closer, closer…lips on lips, our tongues danced together, our bodies moving into the familiar pieces of each other. Closing my eyes, I was being swept away into the peacefulness nothingness of the combining of our minds. That was the last moment I remember feeling anything that even resembled happiness.The screeching of the front door; my mind was too lost to process anything but her. Footsteps coming closer; Why couldn't I have heard them? The tapping on my door, the click of the knob turning; Her hair, her back, her face, her lips…The shock, the screams, the cans rolling across the room, the shattered glass in every direction. Her eyes, my eyes. Our mind, tearing itself apart for the final time. If only I had been more careful. Why couldn't I have been more careful?
“Lexa? Hey, Lex, wake up, you’re dreaming again.” My eyes flung open to a set of dark blue ones staring back at me. Nick. As my eyes started to process the images around the room, my body relaxed under the soothing touch of his hand on mine. Sweat was dripping down my forehead, down my back, creating a puddle on the mattress I lay on. I could see Aaron and Sam standing around the bottom of my bed, looking at me in the same worrisome way they always did. Sometimes it felt like I was the child of the family, the one who always needed someone to watch them to ensure they didn’t get themselves into any trouble. Except my kind of trouble was different; it was the screaming in my dreams, the screaming when I was awake. The panic attacks I had during one of the flashbacks from the institute, or the cage of silence I locked myself away in when my brain become too loud. I was the child of the family, but I was a child of chaos and misery and fear. My tantrums weren’t over not getting a toy in the shop, but over not being the person my parents wanted me to be. They were over not being accepted by my family, my friends. They were at the thought of how it used to be before I found my own family, before I made my own family. Looking at them now, huddled around me I knew I had to try harder to be better. We all had our demons, that I knew, but I couldn’t keep letting mine stop me from becoming me; I couldn't let it stop me from becoming happy. “I’m fine, I promise. I’ll be fine. I just need to finish this.” I assure them, heading over to the desk in the corner of the room and picking my pen and paper up where I had left it…
The first person to teach me that loving myself is not a given was Nick. He taught me that who I am had been programmed into me since I was born, and when the day came that I found I wasn’t who my family thought I was, my programmed response was to hate, to hurt, to kill. We spent months in that institute together, nursing one another back to health, back to happiness. He taught me what it was like to feel at home, to feel loved. He taught me what it was like to have a family. You see, blood does not equate to family, at least not in the emotional sense. Nick taught me that. He taught me that we have the power to choose our own family if the one we are born into is not the right one for us. He taught me that your biological family isn’t always the right family for you. You need to find where you belong, where you are accepted, and stop living in the shadows of who they want you to be. And if they can’t love you for who you are, then are they really your family? Don’t let them take your heart, Ella. Remember who you are; Nothing else matters.
“Alexis Zane, it’s 12 O’ clock. You know what that means.”
Control; I don’t think I even understand the meaning of it anymore. At least, I don’t recall what if feels like to have it, to use it, to feel it. Day by day, week by week, month by month I watched my reflection in the mirror become sharper, stranger, unrecognisable. I wonder if she would look at me the same now? Left, right, left, right, left, right. They led me down the endless corridor, as they had done every day since I had arrived. The familiar screeches and scratching filled my ears-I had learnt how to block that out a while ago now. My eyes found the door, towering above me taunting me with the secrets it held inside. I almost stopped. I saw the guard glance at me, their weight shift, preparing, always preparing. Not today. I couldn’t mess up today. I forced myself to place one foot in front of the other. Left, right, left, right, left, right.  The guards closed the door behind me, leaving me with doctor Sullivan and her soul eating smile. “Alexis, dear! What a sight for sore eyes. Come, come, sit down. Tell me how you’re feeling? It’s a big day for you! You must be so excited.” Her eyes searched mine, looking for any hesitancy, looking for any reason to make me stay. I wouldn't give her the pleasure. Forcing my mouth as wide as it would go, my eyes as bright and alive as they could be, I returned her gaze steadily. “I couldn’t be happier. I can't wait for things to finally be normal again”. Normal; What a word that was. It’s ironic, a girl who has never known the concept of normality using it so freely and confidently as if I know what the hell “normal” is. As if I have any right to pretend I do. It was the right answer though. Sullivan’s smile tightens- there’s nothing she can do to keep me here. Clasping her hands together on the auburn table, her voice softens. “Alexis, I am so proud of how far you have come dear. Not everyone is as willing for the cure as you were. Your family is going to be so happy to see the girl you have become. Keep in touch deary, we are always here if you stumble across anymore…mishaps.” That was the last time I saw Doctor Sullivan. Racing through the corridors I weaved my way around the puzzle that had been my home for the last 6 months. Where was he? I had 10 minutes. 10 minutes until I left. I couldn't go without seeing him first though, I just couldn’t. I wouldn't be getting out if it wasn't for him. Hell, I wouldn't still be breathing if it wasn't for him. “Hey, Princess! Didn’t think you could leave without a goodbye did you?” Spinning around, I saw him leaning against the wall I had just walked past, examining his nails, trying to contain his grin. “Not a chance.” I grinned, running towards him and throwing my arms around his neck, burying my head into his chest. It felt like I could finally breathe again, the bakery stench of his cologne filling my lungs, the strong grasp of his hands pulling me closer to him and further away from the world. “It’s gonna be okay Lex”, he whispered into my ear. “It’s all gonna be okay, I promise.” “There she is. Alexis Zane, it’s time. Please remove yourself from the boy and come with us. Your family is waiting for you.” The voice boomed across the hall, intruding into our world. Nick grabbed my face with his hands, staring into my eyes. I could feel the sting of my tears brewing, threatening to spill at any minute. Keep it together, Lexa. Don’t let them see you cry. “Promise me,” He said, frantically searching my eyes, “promise me you won’t let them put out the fire that curses through your mind. Promise me that you won’t let them take your mind, or more importantly, your heart. Remember who you are Alexis. Nothing else matters.” His eyes held my gaze for a second longer before his lips crashed into my forehead. Before I knew it we were being ripped apart, him pulled one way and me the other. This was not how it was supposed to be. There was nothing wrong with us! I felt like screaming, like kicking, like putting them through the relentless torture they had put us through. But what was the use? They always won in the end. And us? We always lost.
The singing of the morning birds woke me to the joy that accompanied sleeping in a desk chair all night. Stretching out my muscles, I walked down the stairs to where the morning beams sneaked in through the windows of the kitchen view. Aaron was sitting at the table, the smell of his coffee attacking my senses. “Morning love, how did you sleep?” “As well as you would expect for someone writing a letter to their ex” I remarked, taking a sip of his half empty coffee. I scrunched my nose up in disgust, barely manning to swallow the vile liquid. “This crap is disgusting, I still have no idea why you continue to drink it every morning.” “And I still have no idea why you continue to taste it every morning, then continue to insult me about it. Just go get your juice, Lex.” “Fair point. Who knows, maybe tomorrow will be different.” “You? Take my advice? Make a change? Now that would be something i’d pay good money to see Lexa Zane.” “Shut up Wilden.” “Whatever you say, Ma’am.” After pouring myself a glass of juice (which Aaron looked smug as ever about) I retreated back to the study to continue the letter.  
During my discovery of life, I met a boy named Aaron. While upon first glance he seemed below average, lacking in any extraordinary characteristics what so ever, it was once you got to know him that you realised how special he truly was. He was the third part of our little family. It was him who taught me that society fears what it does not know. It sees someone different, someone struggling with the puzzle of life, and instead of helping them put it together they throw away the pieces. Society isolates you in your differences, in your misery. It makes you think that you are alone, that you are unwanted and unworthy. But the truth is, you are none of those things. You are not alone in your misery; when you are left with nothing, questioning who you are and what you have become, you still have your family. Aaron’s bother died when he was 15, dealing drugs to provide for his parents. I don’t think he ever forgave them for that. He ran away a week later, vowing to never be like the people who had made him, vowing to be who he wanted to be; to be someone his brother would be proud of. Me, I want to be someone I would be proud of. And I want you to do the same. You are not alone, Ella. You are not an outcast of society. But if you are, who cares? Revel in your differences, they are what make you, you. No one can take that away from you, not even your parents.
“Hey, Lex, how’s it coming along?” Sam asked, wrapping her arms around my shoulders, trying to sneak a glance at my writing. “Not a chance hot stuff.” I say, snatching the letter out of her view and slipping it into the waistband of my pants. “Oh, is that how we’re going to play it, huh?” She smirked, grabbing my waist and spinning me around so our faces were inches apart. Slowly, she curled a loose strand of my hair around her finger, never losing eye contact with me even once. I was hyperaware of the paper in my jeans, of her hand on my hip, slowly edging its way down…She was whispering something in my ear, attempting to distract me with her sweet words and passionate kisses. God, it had been so long…It almost got me. Almost. “Sam, no.” I said, ripping myself out of her arms and taking a step back, putting some distance between us. “I just don’t understand what the big deal is? It’s a letter to Ella right? Why can’t I just read it?” “Because it’s personal, okay. Just drop it. You need to trust me more. I thought we’d been over this?” She sighed, defeated. “I do trust you. But you can’t blame me for being a little touchy about you wiring some secret letter to your ex girlfriend. As your new girlfriend, jealousy is sort of a natural reaction, Lex.” “I know, Sammy, I know. I’m almost done, I swear. And then you can have all my attention.” “Yeah well, you owe me big babe. I expect a grand gesture of some kind, maybe some red wine and rose petals?” “Yeah, we’ll see.” I waited for her to leave before I picked up the cold pen again.
There’s something that everyone in my little misfit family all have in common; the question of what it’s like to have somewhere you belong. Samantha was the 4th addition to our family, us meeting her in a club in the middle of Sydney. She really was the life of party, surrounded by girls and boys and everything in between, her aurora just seemed to grab you and pull you in until before you knew it you were dancing right infront of her, screaming for her attention. Turns out, she was the one screaming. Being an orphan, she had never known the concept of family. She had never known what it was like to disappoint someone or for them to love you despite that. She told me when I first met her that she despised me for my upbringing, for my privileged lifestyle and how I had left it so easily. She almost made me want to go back, want to turn my back on everything Nick and Aaron had taught me. But I didn’t. Instead, I concentrated my energy on teaching her. Teaching her about family, about love. Teaching her about pain and about heartbreak. What I discovered in trying to teach her was that it is never too late to start. To start living, start loving, hell, start existing. Because if you are not being yourself, are you really even exisiting? Aren’t you just floating along, morphing into those around you, being told day by day that “Wow, you’re so much like your mother!” and smiling like that was a good thing. Being told you’re so different from your mother, and smiling like that was a good thing. If exisiting means becoming ghosts of the people you surround yourself with, then what does living mean? And wouldn't you want to find out? Wouldn't you want to give yourself every possible chance at a life of greatness, at a life of truth.
I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss my family. But I would also be lying if I said that being with them didn’t make me feel like I was in a constant state of a thunderstorm. it was as though when I was with them, being who they wanted me to be, I was being drowned by the rain of my own tears. It’s not that I don’t like the people they are; it’s that I don’t like the way they treat people like me. It’s that I don’t fit into their land. Our worlds just don’t co-exist with one another. When they collide, chaos breaks out. Storms rage on and crops die out. I become the crop, while they remain the storm raging on, taunting me from above, attempting to help me grow but only into the type they want.
I miss them Ella. A lot. No, that’s not true. I miss when things were good, before I realised the truth about myself and about them. Before my mother caught us that day. Before she sent me to conversion therapy. But the truth is, if those things hadn’t happened, I wouldn't have met Nick or Aaron or Sam. I wouldn’t have created my own family, and I wouldn’t have learnt everything I have. I wouldn't know that life exits beyond the land I had been watered on, beyond the world my family had grown for me. I wouldn't have realised that I can both be happy, as well as be myself.
I am not writing this letter to you to tell you that I have everything worked out, I am far from that. I still have nightmares about the institute and I still have dreams about you and what happened, what you said to me when I got out. I don’t hold those things agains you. You were doing what you had to do to survive the storm. But Ella, you need to know this; there are people out there who love you for who you are. Find those people. Let them love you and help you, and you do the same with them.
Do not apologise for who you are, and do not apologise for loving your differences; I taught myself that. And now i’m teaching you.
Yours truly,
Alexis.
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