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dc418writes · 28 days ago

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Fuck it, I’m Jealous

✨Pairing✨: TE!Terry Richmondxblack!reader

Summary🪄: Your (secret) feelings for your best friend reach a new height

🚨: teensy bit of angst, brief mention of children, language, allusion to abusive relationship, fluff mixed throughout

Fic inspo:

*DISCLAIMER!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest*

I ain't never been good at sharing

But with you, I practice patience

And I let you do your thing 'cause I'm doin' mine

I was actin' like I'm good when I know I'm lyin'

The rhythmic thud and vibrations from the speakers run through your whole body as you sit at the mini bar watching other guests dancing and laughing. Usually you’d be among the bodies swaying on the dance floor at least once or mingling with whomever was open enough to talk, but tonight you can’t seem to switch your focus from the couple near the tall floor to ceiling windows.

Specifically, your best friend, Terry, and the woman giggling and smiling as she hangs on to his every word.

They’ve nearly been attached at the hip all night - moving from the dance floor to a more private section of the bustling mansion’s living room - and you had to admit, she was gorgeous. Silky, black hair flowing to the middle of her back and face flawlessly clear of blemishes, she was definitely his type with her Hollywood dazzling smile and matching perfect curves. Yet with every flirty glance, you could feel a sickening twinge in your gut.

So much in your head, you fail to realize your other best friend, Ondrea, had joined you after ordering another fruity cocktail. “Her beauty does not take away from yours.”

“I know,” you softly smile attempting to hide your hurt.

“And you, my love, have a line of suitors both in here and outside who’d be blessed with just a minute of your attention.”

You didn’t want them though. Every single one you tried just couldn’t compete - let alone be in the same room - as Terry Richmond. Charming, big eared, jerk.

Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, she leans her head on yours with a soft sigh, ��Want me to break them up? Accidentally on purpose spill a drink on her?”

“No,” you chuckle, “and I think you’ve reached your limit on the drinks.” She did tend to be a little more…aggressively protective around her fourth. “Where’s Ali?”

Sipping from the little glass in her hand, her other waves as if she couldn’t care less where her defensive lineman husband was. “I’m grown, okay? I don’t need a babysitter and don’t think I don’t realize you trying to divert! Have you talked to him?”

“Drea we both know I can’t do that.”

“You need to though! If I see you sad about alien eyes one more time imma fight him myself.”

“Aye you supposed to be cut off.” You’ve never been happier to see Ali. You came to this party in hopes to forget your messy feelings. To get a long deserved break from the heaviness - and occasional tears - they caused. “Gimme the glass now Ondrea Marie.”

Rolling her eyes, she’s quick to drain the remainder of the candy green liquid - much to her husband’s dismay - before placing the glass in his large paw of a hand. “Happy?,” she hiccups with a giggle lightly bumping you.

“This woman,” he mumbles in exasperation leaving the empty glass on the shiny bar. “Hey bitty, surprised to see you and Terry separated.”

You’d practically been each other’s shadows since college. Each somehow drifting back after working the room if you didn’t stick together the entire time. It’s why most of those interested became slightly disappointed thinking you were more than friends, which you’d both immediately deny.

“By all means, shoot ya shot. Want me to introduce you?”

“Well, I uh thought it’d be best to give him some privacy since he’s pretty occupied.” Turning to find his teammate among the moving attendees, he smirks watching the mystery, model-esque woman lean in to whisper in the Tight End’s ear. Clearly something salacious from how Terry licked his full lips before handing her his phone. His mouth smoothly whispering something back then moving to her neck as she giggled and playfully smacked his chest.

“Well he’s definitely gonna have a fun night.”

That made one of you. “Yep, and I think I’m gonna head home.”

“Already?”

“Yea it’s been a long day, plus I got more to do tomorrow.” Like sulk in the privacy of your own home. Maybe catch an episode or two of Law and Order.

“Oh okay. You need a ride? Or want me to get T-?”

“Nope I’m alright. I’ll just Uber again,” you quickly answer. From his slightly raised brow, you know Ali can probably sense there’s an issue but he doesn’t press on and you’re grateful he seems to catch the hint.

“Uh uh we can drive you home,” Ondrea speaks up trying to stand on slightly unsteady legs. Luckily Ali’s there to keep her from falling to which she insists she’s got it and he rolls his chocolate eyes.

“No yall stay, I’ll be fine.” Not giving them a chance to utter another word, you slip from your barstool with a quick wave and clutch in your hand as your heels hastily clack along the tiled floor towards the entrance. “I’ll call when I get home!”

“We should have another one,” Terry states staring with proud eyes at the quiet bundle in their white crib. His elbows bent over the railing as he adorably coos while fixing the small blanket that looked like the one from your childhood.

“We just had this one,” you giggle jokingly poking the back of his thigh with your toe. Peering over his shoulder, there’s no hiding that boyish grin you fell in love with.

“She need a friend though, she told me.”

“Mhm..she told you that?” He nods moving to get on his knees and crawl until his head is in your lap. His soft hands bringing yours to his lips to peck as he begins to beg.

“Pleasepleaseplease!”

The melodic chime from your doorbell startles you awake with a racing heart and dull ache in your temple from sitting up too fast. It’s soon followed by a couple thunderous knocks that don’t help your already panicked state.

‘Gimme a break,’ you think shuffling to your door. In retrospect, you should’ve looked on your app before opening the door. Or maybe even pretended you weren’t home.

Black Nike sweats covering his legs and matching sweatshirt over his upper half, Terry wasn’t annoyed but you could tell he was in a mood.

“H-Hey,” you greet with a nervous smile. “Everything okay?”

His brief, low chuckle is far from humorous as he crosses his thick arms across his chest. “I could ask you the same. Haven’t talked to you in almost a month.”

‘And? Haven’t you been busy with what’s her name?’ You want to say, but instead you simply shrug. “I’ve been busy.”

“So busy you can’t text or call me back? Come to my games?”

“Wow, one less fan to watch you out of what..hundreds of thousands?,” you sarcastically retort with an attitude Terry had never been on the receiving end of. “I don’t have to always-,”

“You back with him?”

Him in question being your ex, Chris. From their first meeting, Terry couldn’t stand him and definitely wasn’t shy about telling you.

“You need to let him go.”

“I’m tellin you, he’s no good twin.”

The feeling was mutual with Chris. At the mention of Terry he’d roll his eyes and mood would visibly change. And when your then boyfriend expressed how he didn’t want you around Terry, you reluctantly respected that boundary. Until it seemed he didn’t want you with Ondrea either.

It unfortunately took some time to see that so called boundary was nothing more than control. Although slightly hurt, neither of your friends blamed you when you came back with tearful apologies. They took turns being your shoulder to cry on, but Terry tended to check in and visit more. There were many days he’d be waiting in your apartment’s parking lot - specifically in the spot next to your usual - sat in his black on black Ford truck with bags of food in the passenger seat.

“Don’t you have practice in the morning?,” you asked that first night he appeared.

“Yes, and I’ll be there don’t worry twin,” he winked gathering both takeout bags in his hand before following you to your door.

“No, I’m not.”

“Then what?,” Terry asks. “I do something to you?”

Yes, you made me fall in love with you and complicate my love life dookiehead. “No,” you sigh.

Kissing his teeth, his frustration only builds the more you lie. “Look, I’m not stupid clearly it’s something! You ain’t even invite me in and I’m just supposed to-,”

“I just need space Terry!”

“From me?”

“Yes! And…”

Those words are right there on the tip of your tongue practically tickling your lips ready for their escape. Your fears clutch them at the last moment though, refusing to let them go and potentially ruin the best relationship of your life thus far. Your second home you could always depend on.

“And what?”

Your fingers massage you temple feeling that headache become sharper and more painful. “Can we just…not..tonight?” You were nowhere near ready - mentally or emotionally - for this conversation. However like the stubborn, determined man he is Terry can’t easily let things go. Whenever there’s a problem, he finds a solution then and there.

In double time if it concerns his family or friends.

His long legs swiftly bring him over your threshold before closing the door behind him. His hypnotic green eyes intense and never leaving yours leaning back against the wooden entrance.

“I’m not leaving until you get whatever it is you need to say out! I know something’s wrong and wish you’d-,”

“Fine! You wanna know? It is you T,” you finally reveal with tears beginning to flow down your heated cheeks. He wanted to know? Well he just opened Pandora’s box. “I’m..I’m tired of pretending I’m fine seeing you with other girls and hearing about this one in Vegas and-and that one from the club!”

You don’t know if his silence is him taking in your words or from shock. Maybe even unease. For the first time you can’t read him at all.

You can feel the knot form in your throat as your fear tries once more to stop your vulnerability. As usual, he can tell you’re ready to shut down again prompting him to step closer carefully reaching out to brush your freshest tear away from your face. “What else? Keep goin.”

“I shouldn’t have ignored you, but I knew if I said something then I’d ruin what we already have,” you softly explain trying to steady your heaving chest and hiccups. “I mean there’s a reason we’ve never crossed that line right?”

“And why is that?,” he asks stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Was..was he serious? “B-Because you’re not attracted to me like that. Which is fine-,”

“I never said that.” Now was his turn to struggle finding his next words as he took a break from your angelic features to peer down at the tiled floor. Meanwhile you patiently stood there rubbing your ear in your attempt to self soothe - a habit you had as a kid that surprisingly followed you all these years.

“From that first day we met in the dorms, I could tell you were different-,”

“I was one of the crew,” you interrupt.

“No, I mean…you weren’t one to play around. You were intentional with everything you did, had your shit together, and if it ain’t make sense to you, you didn’t want no parts.

You couldn’t help it, it’s how you were raised. Not to say you didn’t have fun and make time for the things you liked, but at the end of the day you knew the important stuff needed to get done.

“I knew I wasn’t there, so I didn’t bother you. You kept it friendly, so I did too. Doesn’t mean I was never attracted.”

You can feel your heart begin its rapid patters again, but now for a completely different reason. “So…so what?,” you ask still unsure. “You’re saying you’ve liked me this entire time?”

His Jordans lightly squeak as he steps closer once more. The amber from his Tom Ford cologne and body heat radiating from his chest makes you dizzy feeling your knee wobble as your back meets your kitchen island. His grayish-green eyes attached to yours once more after a quick glance at your pouty lips. “I’m saying I’ve been attracted to you since I first saw you, and every day after we got closer I knew you complimented me in the best ways…the yin to my yang, my twin. I didn’t wanna be that guy you thought only was friends with you to get with you.

“And when Lizard-,”

“His name is Chris,” you corrected, rolling your eyes with a sniffled giggle.

“I know what I said.” So petty. “When he did that, I wanted to protect you from anyone else who tried to hurt you,” he bashfully shrugs and you mentally aw at how adorable he could be. “Wanted to be the only one to protect you.”

It’s as if your body’s in control rather than your brain how you eliminate the remaining space, reaching up to press your lips against his. Admittedly, it’s…different at first - reminiscent of your first kiss in middle school - but when his warm hand caresses your cheek and the other slides to your lower back, sparks tingle and ignite from your head to your toes. Your lips moving at their own rhythm as both your tongues soon follow pulling moans from your chest.

Begrudgingly, Terry breaks first needing air - and a moment to collect himself. His low chuckle brushes against your cheek hearing your little whimper from wanting more. “Gimme a minute twin,” he smiles pressing his forehead against yours.

“So…what now?,” you whisper nearly getting lost in the way his fingertips feel grazing along your spine.

“You tell me. What do you want?” The deep baritone of his whisper sends addicting shivers throughout your body.

“You,” you answer gently gripping his sweatshirt not wanting to let go - just in case this was some wild fever dream. “All to myself.”

He can’t help but smile at the way your onyx eyes, mixed with swirls of ebony, innocently peer up at him through your wispy lashes. “You got me,” he replies leaning down to meet your waiting lips once more.

I ain't gon' tell you to drop them other bitches

But drop them other bitches

I never been jealous

But fuck it, I'm jealous

So goddamn invested

A/N🎤: HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE✨💕!! I hope everyone is having a great time and able to rest. Or if you’re going through it this season, I wish healing for you and to remember you are so loved and deserving of love☺️.

This idea has been on my mind for a while and uh…I honestly don’t know how to feel about it lol it took on so many changes and I feel like it might be boring, but then again I’m my own worst critic so hopefully yall enjoy!

I wanted to have a holiday themed story or two out by now but as usual I am late lol, but I’m still trying to have something out before new years (however we’ll see👀 lol)

#Spotify #terry richmond #terry richmond x black reader #Terry Richmond x woc #terry richmond x reader #rebel ridge #aaron pierre

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totothewolff · 20 days ago

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Season of Love (10/?) [New chapter]

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal, romance, comedy, and some good drama.

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you tell Toto: "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That's the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong? Author's note: This is a multichapter Toto Wolff x team principal reader fic set along a season of F1. It's a very immersive story full of drivers, team dynamics, races, mystery, and smut. You just bought the Williams team, but nobody really knows who you truly are.

< Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

The Sebaffäre Arc Chapter 10: Finding Our Grip.

Japan

The sun slips through the cherry blossom trees, their soft pink petals floating gently in the spring air over the streets of Shibuya as you, Sebastian, Mick, and Millie walk, soaking in the vibrant energy surrounding you.

Laughter spreads as you explore the bustling district known for its trendy stores, eclectic street style, and, of course, the undeniable Kawaii culture for which Millie lives.

“I saw on Instagram a new pop-up cafe with capybara-themed everything! We have to go!” Millie exclaims, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Sebastian chuckles while pulling her a little closer, wrapping a relaxed arm around her neck, their height difference being noticeable. “If it has cute animals and desserts, just take me there,” he jokes.

Mick, is already scouting for the ultimate kawaii stuff for Millie. “Look! They have those giant plush toys over there!” He points toward a shop filled with oversized snack plushies.

Your heart fills with joy as this hangout feels more like a family trip.

“Millie, this one is so you!” you point out, holding up a pink dress adorned with frills and one little cat paw. Millie squeals in delight as she slips it on, twirling in front of the mirror, you are now inside an all-pink extremely chic fashion store.

After some bags of apparel are added to your purchases, you head toward the Capybara café.

As soon as you step inside, you are greeted by the most adorably fluffy residents lounging around.

"I'M GOING TO EXPLODE" Millie squeals out.

After some iced Taros, fruit cakes, and playful interaction with the capybaras, you notice something shiny in the corner, a photo booth. “Oh, we have to try it!” you ask the group, eyes sparkling with glee.

Inside, you each squeeze tightly together, giggles erupting as you try to fit in. “Okay, everyone! Let’s do a silly one!” Mick suggests, posing with a goofy expression. You all follow suit, Sebastian squishes his cheeks together, Millie tosses her head back, and you cross your eyes, with the camera flashing in a series of snaps. When Millie suggests doing one series more but "with free poses" Seb doesn't let go of the opportunity to place one kiss on your cheek.

As the pictures print out, you can't help but think about how wonderful it would be to have these moments with a family of your own.

“Check this out!” Sebastian says, pulling the first picture from the stack. The photo reflects the perfect blend of laughter, silliness, and an undeniable bond, the four of you together.

“Let’s each take one copy and place them on our dressing room's mirror” Mick suggests and everyone agrees.

You three had the most fun time that day, so much it passed by at an alarming speed, and soon Seb offered to take you back, leaving you at the door of your hotel room, with just one shy and sweet goodbye kiss on the palm of your hand.

And that's all, he tries for.

He doesn't want to rush things, he feels luck is on its side this weekend.

He is just waiting for that special momment.

It's race day and Matthew and you navigate to your team's place on the grid - by the front - among the big bustling, and packed Suzuka track, it's kinda hard to walk around, this time they overdid the number of people allowed in there.

You two take your time to reach the place where the cars sit still but are soon ready to roar to life as the orchestra prepares for the national anthem, adding an air of ceremonial anticipation.

Just as Matthew turns a corner, you stumble into Toto with Susie, also hand in hand. The moment freezes as you lock eyes, both of you caught off guard.

"Ah, Toto! Nice to see you! Ready to eat our dust once more?" Matt opens the conversation, stopping in front of them.

You bite your lip, half-wincing. Matthew playfully jabs to push Toto’s buttons. The Austrian raises an eyebrow, letting out a short laugh, though you can tell the jab stings, he remains grinning, his charm on full display as he answers, "Well if it isn’t the power couple of the F1! Dust? I’m here for the victory champagne, my friend."

Susie appears momentarily oblivious to the smoldering tension. She smiles wide, all enthusiasm as she greets you. "It’s a perfect clear night for a race, air is good, isn’t it? I can’t wait to see how it all unfolds!"

You can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy as you watch her holding him, effortlessly radiant, completely unaware of the awkward undercurrents swirling around you all.

Her joy in the moment only amplifies the tension, and you battle with the frustrating realization that you wish you could enjoy it as innocently.

Forcing a smile, you answer her. "Yes! Perfect!"

This is the closest Toto and you have been for a while. Your heart races, and you feel a blend of excitement and guilt as memories of your passionate encounters fill you back.

You can feel the weight of his eyes on you.

Matthew interrupts your stares. "Good for you, Toto, victory champagne tastes extra sweet when it's been a while without you tasting it" his smile is big and bright, and Matt snaps back all innocent looking, his hand fondling your hip tenderly but visibly. "Isn’t that right, sweetheart?" he places a soft and sensual kiss on your lips.

Toto shifts and clears his throat, visibly tense, and with that, Susie’s curiosity peaks. She shifts her gaze between the two of you, eyebrows furrowing slightly before forcing herself to smile brightly again and with genuine confusion, she asks, "Are you boys always this competitive?"

You gulp, unsure whether to laugh out of nervousness or shrink. Matthew chuckles, clearly enjoying his mind games, while Toto plays it off with a casual shrug.

"Oh, it’s just a bit of friendly rivalry! Susie, it's not like something else was going on" Matt emphasizes the last words. Much to both your dislike.

Fuck, he knows. HOW?!

Is he surveilling you? Oh, you gotta have a word, well, no, let's better not.

Then orchestra starts to play and you all glance at the stage, feeling the tension ebb with the music. The national anthem begins, and with it, your interaction reaches an end.

Neither Williams nor Mercedes gets to sip that champagne. Seb finally makes it to the highest of the podium, and you cheer your lungs out for him along with George and Millie standing next to him.

The miracle happened, lucky bastard indeed!

In the middle of that celebration, Seb turns mischievously your way, shaking that bottle most menacingly, before you can even react you are soaked, and everyone around you runs away as the rivers of champagne fall in.

Seb jumps down the podium stage and reaches you, among pats, hands, and shoulder shakes, loud cheers following him along.

He screams into your ear, and yet you can barely hear him, the crowd and music so loud. "Maybe this sounds absurd, and perhaps is the worst moment, but I can't deny what I feel for you. If you give me a chance, could I take you out on a date?"

"WHAT!?" This takes you by surprise.

Seb looks at your reaction a bit embarrassed now, the red of his uniform blending up with his face, and expecting a massive rejection on his way.

"So you don't mind that I'm married?! You don't care about my past and all that's going on around me!? Are you serious?!" you look utterly shocked.

"No, I don't! I like you the way you are," he says, earnestly.

FUCK.

"But what about the press!? If they found out... WAIT, and your reputation!? Seeing us together could be damaging for your career..."

"Oh no problem about that, we won't hide"

"WHAT?!" your face is a poem.

"I'm never hiding... ever again. I'm going to love you freely and fuck the world" he smiles brightly, drops coming down his hair and big eyelashes.

"But... If you regret it?! And by then the damage is done, you need to think..."

"I don't care, honestly, but do you?" he captures your hands, which were going all over, like an Italian man illustrating something but on steroids, and caresses them.

"Well... I'm done with the hiding too"

"So we could... You know... try it?" his eyes spark, and he looks at you as the most precious being walking on earth.

He is crazy, this is crazy, you are crazy, but for some reason, you nod in agreement.

Mathew did not make that long travel to Japan just to join you at the GP, he wanted to give you the long-awaited news that finally you got Lenkov to go on trial in between happy tears, both hugging real tight.

Seb becomes your companion for this entire arduous and bitter process.

He even helps you practice your testimony acting as if he were the lawyer and judge questioning you.

That man has watched too much TV and movies.

"Where's my Emmy?" he asks you, papers in hand, dropping himself on the couch next to you and placing a kiss on your forehead.

You chuckle.

Seb begs you to let him join you in person at the Lenkov's trial which will be held in a courthouse in Zurich, Switzerland.

He wants to be there for you when you have to face the man of your nightmares for the first time since you were a kid. You know that moment would take a toll on you.

But you say no, due to his protection and safe-being, you don't want to expose him.

You look astounded when you spot him among the court audience, feeling a bit mad at him at first but soon he becomes your rock during those three challenging nights.

Especially when he holds you in his warm embrace as you crash down in your hotel room, surveilled by security, after exchanging words and holding your own with Lenkov after years.

Going out on dates with Seb feels almost organic, natural, easy, and relaxed, there's no intimacy yet, not even a kiss, just tenderness all over, some cuddles, and nights spent together talking.

He is giving you the time you need, allowing you the space to heal, and it's exactly what you needed, who you needed, to pull you out of that void.

With Seb, there are no doubts, no secrets, just honesty and love.

The intrusive thoughts of Toto start to fade away, he slowly transforms into a distant memory.

Qatar

Nowadays, everywhere you go Sebastian is there by your side, at trips, galas, in corridors, at meetings, during breaks, at lunch and people are taking note of it.

Especially during the fancy party the Qatari organized due to their GP's anniversary.

You walked inside that luxurious open venue under the skylight, arm-in-arm with Seb, the two looking so comfortable with the lack of personal space between you.

As the party progresses, he, ever the charming gentleman with his warm smile, turns your way. His blond hair is tousled just enough to give him an air of carefree elegance; he looks radiant in his tailor suit while leaning closer.

“Shall we?” he asks you, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. It is a simple invitation that sends a cascade of feelings coursing through you.

With a playful pull, he leads you toward the empty dance floor, you walk shyly at first. Almost instinctively, people turn to see. You can feel their eyes on you, curiosity brewing as if you were an unexpected plot twist in a story.

As the live orchestra starts a new song, the smooth voice of the singer pours from the speakers, wrapping the room in a sweet, melodious embrace. “Sway,” begins, the gentle beat inviting you two to move closer.

Vettel pulls you in, wrapping his arms around your waist, his touch igniting heat. “Just focus on me,” he murmurs noticing your nervousness, his breath brushing your skin.

With a confidence that is uniquely his, he guides you into a gentle sway, your bodies moving in harmony with the sultry rhythm. You could feel the mix of surprise and judgment hovering at the tables, specifically the Ferrari and Mercedes ones.

Even from a distance, you caught sight of Toto's furrowed brow, eyebrows almost meeting in disapproval; Lewis watching with his arms crossed, shooting glances that said it all.

"Y/N" Seb sweetly calls your name, asking for your attention back. You look into his eyes, those deep pools of sincerity that are becoming so difficult to resist. Suddenly, your worries melt with each passing note, every sway bringing you closer to a reality where you can love freely.

His steady embrace encourages you to lean into him further, to bury yourself in his warmth, placing your head on his chest, and your entire group of friends gasp in complete disbelief.

"WHAT THA FUCK?!" Lando lets out, almost spilling his drink. "WHY?!"

Oscar and Samantha laugh at his reaction but are as surprised as him.

By the end of that night, you feel lighter as if finally you were liberated from constraints that had once shackled your heart. Maybe you were reaching several closures as a person.

USA

"Howdy partners!? PHEW! PHEW!" Charles greets Sam and you wearing the world's most insane cowboy outfit, barrell fake gun and all.

"You look like a cow with those spotted leather chaps!" words burst out of your mouth as an instant reaction, not even a hi first.

"Where did you leave Bob SquarePants?" Samantha asks him, howling with laughs. "It's giving Patrick Starr"

"PERFECT!" Charles seems way too cheerful about that.

It turns out Leclerc is dressed like this for a sponsor's charity event made in collaboration with Nickelodeon.

Families with kids are everywhere on the grounds and installations were created on the circuit's fields for the special event, Carlos is the first of the gang to join you there, still healing from his accident.

No one dared to ask you about your thing with Toto, even when something was clearly going on between you two, although not as clearly as it is with you and Seb, Toto was notifiable only if you paid attention.

But this time around it was impossible to ignore the elephant in the room, especially when the elephant was holding hands with you in public right now.

"So are you two..?" Mick asks with half a smile already forming on his lips.

"Yes." comes in unison from you.

They don't need to know more. They don't ask more.

After eating a delicious grilled burger, you observe the parents interact with kids, Everywhere you look around there are families and you wonder what that would be like.

Sam seems to read your mind and reaches you to hold your left hand, and then you feel Millie holding your right one, also getting a sense of what is going on, now you are in the middle of a Dobrev sandwich.

Then Normani holds Millie's hand, and finally, Seb joins in, adding "I don't know what is happening, but I just wanted to hold hands with you girls." he smiles big and bright, closing his eyes and taking in the sun rays feeling them on his skin.

It's George's birthday. And it goes the most awkward possible that can go.

Just by start, he is so freaked out about getting old, that much so he doesn't want to throw a party at all and refuses the group's many texts and invitations to go out.

So you guys being... YOU GUYS.

Plan a small gathering for him at the hotel bar, just a Casa Blanca-inspired night, something simple, not too over the top but old-timey and fun enough as his style is.

You all show up in your best tuxedos and gowns.

Hanging around in the same small space, with Seb by your side and Susie by Toto's feels awkward as fuck at first, but as the night progresses you come up with good terms at completely ignoring each other.

Even if you try to black it out, you are utterly aware of the "Wait isn't she married?! And those two know no shame!" vibes coming from people.

When you reach closer to greet Bono, hanging with Lewis as usual, you move to embrace Hamilton and he pulls you away, making your jaw drop and your heart sink. For the rest of the night, you seem keen to address it with him, you want to know how to fix it and understand fully what's going on.

But he doesn't allow you the chance.

For much that a visibly hopeless Niki tries to bring you, Lewis, and Toto closer, creating dumb excuses for you to interact.

Nothing succeeds.

Until Sam calls for a few rounds of "Cards against humanity" almost by the end of the party when it's just "the OGs" remaining as she and Charles love to refer.

And Toto drops a "Slap me____" card and you can't resist it for your life.

Answering "Like one of your headphones", making him and everyone laugh like idiots and steal away the points for you.

He bumps you playfully with his shoulder, smiling brightly.

For the first time in a while, it feels like it used to be.

Maybe the two of you could become friends?

Yeah, puff, who are you kidding!?

Mexico

During the Mexican Grand Prix, it was almost Halloween and Day of the Dead.

So you texted in advance on the group chat, weeks before, that you all should show up wearing costumes. Hey, dressing up is always fun!

So you arrive at the paddock, excited to see what the others pulled.

Your meeting spot is the usual, behind the medical wing, near the ambulances' entry, where you all have more privacy.

You get there along with Mick and Michael (who showed up in versions of their Williams uniform but like they were basketball and baseball players).

You went dressed as Niki - red cap hat, silver headphones on, plaid oversized shirt with an exaggerated size access badge hanging from your neck - rocking those denim dad's jeans, and a ridiculous and enormous flip phone along with like four walkie-talkies attached to your black belt.

"Goodness! HA, HA" George tells you, smiling big at you when you reach him; he was the first to get there, with Angela and Roscoe.

"Pow!" You throw him a pose, "Pow!" a turn, and another pose, "Pow pow!" you point to your orthopedic sneakers, it was all in the details.

"Wait till he sees you. He will love it, Oh, I need my Merc shirt in this version" George greets you while grabbing the fabric on Schumi's shirt. "This is so cool, mate!" They get caught in a conversation about Jordan, Kobe, and the old guard and prime of players while Mick and you play with Roscoe (who hates his costume and keeps taking it off, God knows how Angela was able to get him into his tootsie roll candy suit).

Lewis is not around there until a couple of minutes later, acting still cold at you, he just waves a hand your way and that's it. When George approaches him smiling and stands by his side it's when you fully appreciate their outfits; George is the fish, and Lewis the chips.

"Niki has a better ass!" Sam tells you, looking you all up and from all angles and slapping your left asscheek, she arrives dressed as Ocon's FIA time penalty charts, many large cardboard signs attached over a form-fitted black dress. Enough penalties to cover her to the knees.

And Millie arrives after with what turns out to be your favorite costume of the day as "Lewis lost-projected to the skies all worn-out tire from the Miami GP" It has you all rolling on the floor and gagging.

"Oh, It's so fucking good!" Sebastian tells the group looking like a cute Toad, and Millie pats his cute puffy mushroom head hat. "You can punch it and still I will not feel a thing. That's how puffy it is" he says, and four immediate slaps come on Sebastian's way. Big mistake.

After him comes Charles dressed as "Charles Brown", with an oversized t-shirt and shorts, but instead of a yellow one, it's a Ferrari's red zig-zag stripe one along with a tiny horse plushie popping out of his shorts pocket. His version of Snoopy.

You hear a sexy "Sum sum" to your left and turn around to be greeted by a Lando leaning sexyly on the wall in his censored naked Sim outfit.

"Argh! It's so genius!" Millie lets out.

Last but not least, Checo shows up dressed as a Catrin, which impresses you with how artistic and cool it is, with Carlos by his side wearing a Transformer version of his car. Everyone squeezes in the selfie before Angela takes a proper group photo. You feel ready to break the internet that day!

Smiles, chats, and laughter fill the place as usual when you are all together. But you are missing one, a very important one for you.

Where on earth was Toto? He is in the group. The idea of him in a silly outfit got you curious and eager for days.

Around 20 minutes later, Carlos notices a cameraman in the distance, then photographers start to snap pictures and get closer. You all try to ignore them and get them to go away.

You succeed but then, 10 minutes later, an FIA steward calls you to their offices.

You returned after a while, and now the group was forced to hang inside the W hospitality, since the fans and press found them, demanding photos and selfies, Michael saved everyone inviting them in, so you all are having nonalcoholic drinks, and food there.

"Guys the FIA wants us to get rid of our outfits, and change for quote on quote proper clothes, costumes are not allowed, apparently, "Makes us look unserious and cartoonish," they told me" You go and imitate a boring middle age man voice, "and it goes against the FIA dressing code, I had no idea there was a dressing code" you rub your chin, like thinking.

"Well, it's not like we are planning to race in these!" Checo adds as a reply to the absurdity. "Besides, it's super early! Of course, we will change, but not now. Well, I'm not. I don't know you guys?"

A lot of me neither are heard.

"What do they plan to do? If we don't comply, I mean. Penalize us all? It's stupid!" Sebastian comments, getting visibly annoyed at them, but in his usual calm and soft voice, resting his elbow on Checo's shoulder, he was on his feet, and Checo was sitting on the high stool, enjoying french fries.

Penalties for everyone. That's what they indeed did.

"Weirdly, Christian was the team principal who took it better when he got the notice" you gossip with Charles.

He even told me: "You should have let me know! I lost my opportunity to show up as Ginger Spice!" he joked with you when you both crossed paths on your way to the garages.

Your relationship with him is weird but good. He's a little shit and so annoying regarding work and his schemings, but he's an enjoyable person offside tracks. One day, you ended up sharing breakfast by chance, and he turned out to be different from what you expected, you spoke about life and so on.

But with Toto, the news of getting a penalty on their way due to your dummy ideas went bizarre pretty fast, you recall.

"What happened to your costume? Did the dog eat it?" you tease Toto, looking at his plain Mercedes uniform that night in Mexico.

"I'm a team principal. I thought it wouldn't be a good look, and judging by the fine resolution, it wasn't," he answers you deadpan, arms crossed, both leaning relaxed against a wall near their motorhome.

"So, you do care about how you are perceived?"

"Not precisely, but I take my job, and my position here seriously."

Your eyebrows go up. "Thanks, man. I'm a joke, then"

He didn't mean it that way. But, hey, at least now you two are talking, instead of ignoring each other existence.

"Just because one has a little bit of fun while doing its work doesn't mean it's not professional" you defend your point.

"Shit, then, I should have shown up dressed as Roger Federer as I planned" he winks at you and enters his garage, ending the conversation right there.

Bringing you back to the present, Charles replies: "That's why I don't get them. Why do they create those stupid meetings promoting sportsmanship and building relationships to burn all bridges? It's absurd, no?" The three of you are in pajamas and getting facials since it was the end of the day.

"Toto was pissed. He truly hated you a bit." Sam informs you, in her insides even though she is happy you are with Seb, there's still in her this doubt about where you are truly regarding Torger. She thousands of times would prefer he was with you instead of back with Susie.

"Oh, that man takes his job too seriously! Could be bad for his health!" you hint no more.

"Not just him, you won't believe what Mattia warned us?! He pulled me and Sebastian to the side after a team brief, by the way, he hates Seb even more now that he's with you, and told us that we needed to get our mind straight, that you don't win championships by being the friendliest on the grid, and that we should stay aware of those so-called friends' real intentions" Charles spills the tea as the violet light of the mask on his face goes off.

"Imagine what would do to him if he found out you two live together?!" Sam starts to laugh maniacly.

"They are getting so paranoid! And that's Christian's job, and he was so chill" You roll your eyes, as the esthetician turns off your mask and pulls it away.

"Well, Millie and Lewis got added seconds, which is an advantage for his team and Max. So... I get why he be chill with it"

"Of course, he is going to be chill!" Charles agrees.

"I don't know guys, I'm not with you on this one! I think he meant it."

"It's just that we know him more." They both nod.

"Years, yeah, years," Sam states.

"I'm going to be more careful from now on, to avoid you guys' trouble, I'm still so sorry." you sound a bit sad.

You apologize for the hundred times on the group chat and you receive lots of "fuck them" replies.

"You do you. I don't care what the FIA says, you are the glue, I don't remember a near time when everyone was interacting like we are now and it's all because of you, you are the glue." Carlos expresses.

Those words warm your heart.

Before the race starts you tap Vettel's helmet tenderly, it's Morse code for the word love. He is inside his car already in formation.

Toto watches from a distance, but he turns away immediately as he gets caught by your eyes.

Yes. This could have been us if you had chosen me.

Lewis' car is right behind Seb's. He watches the full scene unfold before his eyes. You tried again to address things but he gave you no chance, he seemed so disappointed with you somehow.

After the race is over a furious Lewis intercepts Sebastian at the parking lot gates, as Vettel is close to his bike.

"You are a cheater, now?" takes him by surprise.

"It's not like that," Seb replies calmer, closing the gap. Lewis is wearing a gorgeous LV email leaning on an SUV.

"For real..." he rolls his eyes, angry, and shakes his head, hands entering the front pockets of his denim-pattered luxurious jacket.

"Lewis," says almost whispers, tender.

"You know I always held you so high." Hamilton bites his lips, not wanting to scream or cry.

"You trust me?"

"I don't know..." this seems to visibly hurt Seb, "If I do that anymore." he finishes saying.

"Why?" Sebastian sounds wounded.

"I don't comprehend who this is." Lewis gestures to him. "Who is this version of you? My Sebastian is a kind person and would never deceive anyone or hurt."

"Lewis, I am still that same person."

"Listen, don't mind me, you do you." Lewis moves his feet on the parking lot gravel, softly, he keeps his composure well.

"Lewis, it's not my place to tell you." Seb sounds hopeless.

"To tell me what?" Lewis for the first time, looks him straight in the eyes.

"The whole picture. Why don't you talk to her?"

"You are who I care about" his answer is fucking honest, "I just wanted to remind you that it never ends well, that you get burned when you play with fire, and that's all." Lewis shrugs his nose, sniffing a bit, the night air is as cold as this conversation.

"She cares so much about you, as well as I do, you know I love you. And I know you do, too."

"Well, as a person who got deeply hurt, almost annihilated, by a serial cheater, I don't feel like having business with someone of the same kind."

Sebastian knows Lewis means well. It is just his trauma and not understanding the whole picture talking.

"The truth always comes out," Seb reassures him. It is a phrase both faced in their lives.

Lewis always reacts weirdly when Sebastian has a new partner boy or girl. It was the same for him when Lewis introduced Miles to him. He just needs time.

"But, I hear you loud and clear," Vettel adds.

Lewis nods and gets inside the black-tinted car.

To be continued... < Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

Join us at The Wolff Pack Discord Server > https://discord.com/invite/tpgArxqbfd

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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 1 year ago

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Cat reader headcanons - TF141/König*Reader

my cat café AU hcs makes me wonder what will happens if reader is cat and TF141&König is your owner.

I love cats.

Price

• use snacks as a reward or enticement to you

• buys a lot of cat apparel and clothes, if you let him put those on you you can get extra snacks

• knows which spot you like to be pet/scratch the most

• talks to you with that low and alluring tone, bait you to come near him, and you won’t be let go by him for the next few hours

• loves to whisper pet names to you whenever he gets the chance, if you bump your head gently at him, he will laugh and hug you into his arms

• no matter whether you sleep with him in human form or cat form, you need to tell him if you need to go to the toilet during the night, or he will drag you back into his arms even if he’s still half in dreams

Soap

• makes “pss pss” noises to call you

• you will have 100+ nicknames named by him, and some of them are long as hell, but he will write them down

• can’t help but take pictures every second he’s with you, and forces others to see them and ramble about how cute you are all day

• you sit on his table when he’s sketching (even if you don’t want to he will beg you to), watching him draw the 1000th sketches of you (including your cat form and human form)

• if you sleep with him in cat form, he will put you on his chest; if you sleep with him in human form, tucks your head close to his chest too, he just loves to have his most important person (cat?) stays near to his heart

Gaz

• can’t reject you if you look at him with bright eyes and demanding for snacks

• searching what trending among cat owners every day, glad that he’s wealthy because he will buy everything he thinks will be good for you

• his social media used to be his selfies or life recordings, after he adopted you, it’s flooded with your photos

• gets a locket necklace with your name and photos, wears it 24/7 (and it’s more convenient for him to show you off too, like “Hey this is my honey” and opens the locket)

• you are his best cheerer when he's gaming, grabs you and kisses you when he wins

• he falls asleep fast, but he likes to knead your cat beans (paws) and caress your belly first, he sleeps peacefully because he knows when he wakes up, he will see you turn into human form and squeeze your cheeks near his

Ghost

• if he’s chilling on the sofa, he will snatch you into his lap, and stroke you absentmindedly while watching TV

• unaware of himself is covered by your fur from head to toe until someone points out

• has a photo of you in his wallet so he can see you whenever he misses you

• use your fluffy cat belly as a sleep mask when he’s napping

• On those nights he can’t sleep, he will tell you stories or what he's thinking while you respond with meows or purrs, when he feels better and starts feeling sleepy, he will tell you to turn into human form so he can big spoon you

König

• unsure of how to take care of a cat first, so when he found out that you can shift into human form, he heaved a sigh of relief because you are able to tell him what you need

• goes to the pet shop, stares at the shelf full of toys and clothes, imagining which will fit you the most, and eventually buys all of them because he’s unable to choose the best one

• buries his face into your fur and inhales deeply, this is how he relief his stress

• will put away knives or sharp objects because he doesn’t want you to get hurt when you’re running in the house

• likes to sleep with you, but he prefers you sleep with him in human form because he’s afraid that he will crush you accidentally. If you sleep with him in cat form, he will put a cat bed beside his pillow; if you sleep in human form, he will inhale your scent as a sleep remedy.

#price x reader #price x you #soap x reader #soap x you #gaz x reader #gaz x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #könig x reader #konig x reader #könig x you #cod imagine #tf141 x reader #cod x reader #gender neutral reader

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mothdapple · 2 months ago

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I was struck with a strong, inexplicable urge to share the fur colors I picture for TNP gang (and this would be what I consider "canon" for my rewrite Shaken Roots.)

Starting strong with darling Feathertail. She's a silver classic tabby with thick black stripes.

Stormfur is a blue smoke. I think adding the smoke makes him look more "silver-ish," which helps explain why the Tribe picked him as the "silver cat" over Feathertail— she's got a lot of black fur, while Stormfur is a bit more uniformly "silver."

Crowpaw is also a smoke! A black smoke, though, and short-furred, so his smokey coloring isn't as obvious.

My Squirrelpaw is pretty close to canon. She's a classic ginger tabby with low white spotting. She has thick stripes, leading to her "dark ginger" description. (And she has one white forepaw, of course! That's sadly missing from this image.)

Leafpaw is a chocolate mackerel tabby with mid-range white spotting, including her chest, belly, and paws. But unlike her sister, Leafpaw has few and narrow stripes so she looks mostly light brown. (This image is actually of a black tabby because I was having trouble finding a good photo of a chocolate tabby, so just imagine her stripes a dark brown instead of black.)

Moving on to the Tiger kids, Brambleclaw is a standard issue cat— AKA a black mackerel tabby. He's a dark brown with lots of black striping.

Tawnypelt is a black tortoiseshell-tabby :) Like her brothers (and dad) she also has mackerel stripes. I imagine her with a bit more ginger fur than the cat in this image, though— more of a 50-50 split between ginger and black tabby.

Hawkfrost! While I love designs that make him a colorpoint like his mom (and I've even designed him that way myself a few times,) I think in my head, he'll always be a black mackerel tabby with low white. His tabby bits have the same dark brown hue with lots of black striping as Brambleclaw and Tigerstar.

Finally my sweet baby Mothwing is a black-based amber classic tabby (breaking the mackerel tabby trend with the Tiger kids!) Her canon appearance of "golden" is one of those indeterminate descriptions for which a few different real-life colors could apply (ginger, wide-band, amber...) I went for amber here since I think it gives her a really pretty blend between gold and black, so she doesn't look too out of place among her siblings.

(And in reality, you'd probably never find an amber cat in a feral colony. But this is my list of colors for fictional cats, so I've decided it's allowed lol.)

#tnp #Feathertail #Stormfur #Crowfeather #Squirrelflight #Leafpool #Brambleclaw #Tawnypelt #Mothwing #Hawkfrost #Shaken Roots

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takami-takami · 2 years ago

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A Dog Unfed.

includes— hawks x reader. angst. hurt/comfort.

warnings— animal abuse analogy. discussion of drugs and cravings. be warned and avoid this if you need. sorry for spoiling the subtext lol, but it needs a tw. though, i encourage you to apply this however you feel it apply.

perhaps we all have a dog.

Did you ever tell him?

The fullest extent of it all, the thorny vines that adorn your past— more bondage than decoration, a dragging weight against your throat and up your nasal cavity. A growth, an infestation, a plague on your subconscious.

It is a dog you unwittingly adopted— a drooling rottweiler that smacks its jaws and begs and paws at your thighs, pleading to you each night: "I'm hungry, I'm hungry, I'm hungry. Please feed me, I'm hungry."

Everyone who has ever seen your dog has mistaken you for it.

Everyone who has seen your dog has peered down their pudgy little noses, muttered "mutt", spit it and clinked their heels away; or perhaps they simply looked on in sneers of smiling horror, down past their clutching pearls.

"This is you? By god, my goodness! An animal, an animal!"

You used to hate your dog.

You used to lock it in chains outside, let its fleshy paws burn and blister against the cement in the heat of the blaring sun. You grew tired of feeding it, of crushing up its kibble, of leaving it out to dry then quenching its bottomless thirst.

Now you just sit with it.

You sit by its side with your knees to your chest, listening to the cicadas chirp their prayers. Some days, you even let your back burn against the molten floor, a grounding heat while you lie down flat; but every day, every position, your eyes always remain locked on it.

You stare as it rests on its side, fusing to the glistening cement. You listen to its keening whines and dying breaths with a familiar pity and an unbearable disgust.

You blink, unfeeling again now.

You're sure it will never die, no matter how many hours it spends dying.

You never wanted to show Keigo your dog; even though a part of you is screaming and begging to present it to him. A gift from your innards, dirty in the palms of your blistering hands.

Keigo is just like everyone else, you assume. He is kind, he is gentle, he is an angel among men and he is the exact same as everyone else.

You've come to realize a person's good qualities— openmindedness, kindness, empathy— mean nothing in the face of what one is taught. No one is immune to propaganda, and there is no shortage of that nowadays against people with dogs.

The part that makes you doubt your assumptions is this: Keigo has honey in his eyes. Flicks of gold specks dust along the amber of his irises, a sticky kind of love swimming in them that drips down to his lopsided and infuriatingly safe smile.

You could never fathom his nose upturned, as he has been on the ground too many times to do that to another; nor could you picture a sneer from a mouth as sweet as his, honeysuckle and gentle, bright yellow.

So one night, you allow it to spill, hoping for him to soak up your blue one last time.

It's not uncommon for you to spend the dim of your nights at Keigo's home— his real home, the one the commission has never barged themselves in, the one he keeps hidden from every soul in this world but one.

It is uncommon for him to listen to the water of his shower run for several hours.

If you had feathers as sharply perceptive as his, you'd detect the nervous pacing of his leather boots against the carpet of his bedroom floor, even through the sheetrock that separates the two of you. The patter of the showerhead is far too consistent for his liking, very little movement being detected at all and his mind is bouncing off countless possibilities while sticking to none.

Those worries overflow from the cup of his bleating heart, bleeding when he turns sharply toward the bathoom door, resolute.

With a barely audible thud, his forehead traps golden strands between it and the wooden door it rests against.

He doesn't ask you if you're okay. Keigo never bothers with questions he already knows the answer to.

"Baby, open the door. Please," he begs. "I promise, it's okay— just need to be with you. Please."

The song of your sobs muffled through the door causes his feathers to sting an unbearable itch.

How his heart is just as red as those wings. It begins to drip, the string connecting him to you pulled too far for him to take. It— he needs to be with you right now.

A palm slides up the plane, resting firm by his cheek. The air of his breath hits the wood, fogging back against his lips.

"Please, let me in?"

His hopes blossom in the heavy pause that follows.

"...The door's unlocked," you answer.

Keigo knows. He could have pried it open in a heartbeat with a single feather even if it was locked, but trust and respect are precious commodities. They are irreplaceable, yet entirely and easily breakable.

Slowly, the knob creaks open, the careful movement still startling your spine stiff. The heels of your feet gently propel you backwards, firmer against the icy wall at the furthermost corner of the shower. The expanse is wide enough to accomodate fierce wings, wide enough to swallow your comparitively puny body in its open jaws.

Curled in on yourself, soaked, and trembling; this is what Keigo sees when he enters the room. This is what he sees when he dashes over, mumbling words you don't quite catch— some are familiar. "Dove", "sweetheart", "oh, my baby."

Down, he kneels by your side under the pour of the synthetic rain. The fabric of his shirt clings to his skin now, hair soaked just like yours; a wet dog all the same.

And with your tears plopping down against the flat tile, scratched knees held to your chest, you allow it to spill.

It spills through the hiccups, it spills through the wet of your cheeks; and above all, it finally spills through your confession, nose upturned to look up at his shaky gaze.

"Oh, angel..."

You can hear the palpable crack of his beating heart in that voice; but even if you didn't, the rustle of scarlet feathers that puff out in protection give his wounds away.

Keigo busies himself with a racing thought: how could he not notice the signs? He knew there were secrets nestled in the cavity of your ribcage, tandrils of some sort of ivy even he couldn't quite recognize.

You have a weight. Shackles chaining you to be left out in the midday sun.

He could tell. It's not the same as his— it's another flavor, another disease, another beast of its own— but in the most abstract of ways, Keigo could see it: you're just like him.

"Why didn't you tell me," he rasps, cupping your cheeks with shaky palms. They tap and squish like they're searching for signs— distress, hurt, anything.

You smile a mimicry of his, pulled from your most precious memories, and silently beg for that wobbly smile back; but it does not come. Instead, his eyes begin to shine, glassy and wet.

You've never seen him cry before.

You've never felt as desperate for his yellow as you do now, but you have felt this pathetic and small, once. You have felt like an animal, desperate to be domesticated— a synonym for loved.

"Y-You don't need to worry! I'm good, I'm still clean, see? See?"

As if that's the only thing that matters, you tip your chin towards him to offer your pupils as proof.

Such a gesture may shatter hearts, and Keigo is but a man. Despite it all, he is but a man.

He declines the offer, your words more than enough for him— his body opts to tackle you in an embrace instead, clutching your skull close to his hammering chest.

With each wide-eyed blink, the droplets resting on your lashes flick onto his chest. The soaked strands of your hair cling to him, both bodies drenched now by the roaring downpour above.

Water cascades in heaps onto the floor below. It never stops.

With your cheek pressed against his sternum, his scent invades your senses. He smells like cedarwood cologne and thickets of the forest, a warm signature. It matches his labored breaths: sturdy and weighty and masculine.

"I thought you wouldn't see me as a person anymore," you confess.

He hushes your worries as your eyes flutter shut, kissing the crown of your head with unwavering pride.

"Dove... You're my person."

Keigo thumbs away your tears and pulls back to offer you a wobbly smile.

You offer your own in return— a real one, too, this time.

---

The greatest advice you've ever been told was "don't start".

The words felt feeble at the time, like a joke passed down through unproductive seminars in high school out the mouths of stuffy men in suits, men who spoke of the boogeyman and jumped out behind chairs.

It meant nothing at the time.

It means everything now.

It helps you explain a little better to people who've never had a dog.

The words "don't start" are a language they do not speak; and yet, it helps to say it to their mirrored face, to imagine the breadth of your world could be pressed compact into those two tidy little words.

Talking to yourself helps you pretend you're understood.

Even though it is not necessary to be understood before you can be loved:

Don't start.

#block me if ur gonna clown on the topic here. I love you people who can relate you are safe here i am kissing you i hope this reaches you #uhhhhhh this one is a little. Um. Anyway be mindful if u read 👍#🖋 writing #🍧 sugar #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #bnha x reader #tw substance use #mha x reader #angst #hurt/comfort

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doberbutts · 11 months ago

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Any chance you could talk about how you're teaching Fenris to retrieve? I am also struggling so hard with that. Will probably consult with a real life professional trainer about it in the near future because it is just. So. Frustrating. Lol, but I'd love to hear what worked for you.

Recent picture of my retrieval-hating doggo for tax, lol.

Well I don't know that I'm the best person to take advice from because retrieves are absolutely one of the hardest tasks for me to wrap my brain around, especially formal sport retrieves, and despite me trying to teach retrieves to *checks notes* EIGHT different dogs, Fenris is my first one to actually have some mild success.

I spoke at length to my friend Allie @molosseraptor about how much I suck at retrieves and she had some amazing advice for me. I cannot stress enough how good of a dog trainer she is. Any time I have asked her for advice, she not only has hit the nail directly on the head, but it has widened my understanding of whatever concept I'm struggling with that much more. Truly, if you want actual help, don't listen to me. Just go pay Allie to teach you!

Anyway. For Fenris specifically, retrieve is a behavior chain. In other words, I teach each piece of a retrieve separately, and then let it all come together at the end after he nails every piece the way I want him to. In other words, I taught a sit, a come to front, the concept of going to what I throw and picking it up, the concept of bringing it back, the concept of holding something in his mouth without chewing or dropping it, the concept of the hot/cold game, the concept of a clicker, the concept of working for treats, paw targets, and outs... before ever showing him a dumbbell.

From there it's a matter of string it together. Go get the thing > pick it up without chewing > bring it back > come to sit at front with it in your mouth > hold onto it until I tell you to out. The paw targets help show him where I want him to be. The hot/cold game tells him if I need him to tweak his positioning.

Historically I have been able to get a "go get the thing and bring it back to me and sit at front" however in nearly all of the dogs I have tried to teach this behavior chain, including Fenris, we get stuck in the sit at front portion because the dog spits the fucking dumbbell out and drops it on my toes as it sits down. Which is very not what I want and also these are weighted dumbbells ouch my poor feets.

I brought this up at Mondio last time we were there and the training director and the president both suggested instead of teaching him a chin rest (which I have never been able to do very successfully with the dog uprifht) to teach him to push slightly into me as he sits, lifting his head up to do so (and thus reducing temptation for him to drop the damn thing) and making that front nice and tight. He may bump me and we may lose a point, but I can tweak that part later. This was an almost instantaneous breakthrough and I am really glad those women are counted among my friends.

One last thing I want to mention is that, knowing he was going to be a mondio dog, I did not correct him at all for picking up various things around the house. In Mondio, the retrieve can be anything, not just a weighted dumbbell. So that means that because I didn't want him to be weird about picking stuff that Is Not Toys up, I never once told him off for picking things up. Usually he just wanders around with it in his mouth, and because he never associated this with a bad thing, he usually comes right up to me and spits it into my hand.

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one-of-many-journeys · 28 days ago

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Day 46

Snowchant Hunting Grounds

Rode south back toward Song’s Edge, stopping at Hollow Hall to trade my animal figurines with Enjuk. That completes the collection, and Enjuk was beyond thankful.

I played each of the new light projections, taking in their ancient shapes and names. I traced familiarities in more than one. In particular, the grizzly bear. As it stood up on its back legs I saw the outline of a Frostclaw or its fiery brother standing with clawed paws and looming stature. I doubt the holograms were life-sized either. How big were these beasts? I’ve never seen an animal larger than a goat. It made me think—there were other shapes I’d seen formed from metal; wolves and Scorchers, stags and Grazers…In Brin’s poison-fuelled frenzy, he said that the new machines took their shapes from ancient things. Ancient animals? And if Hephaestus was the one that built their new, dangerous variants, how did it learn of those shapes?

I left Enjuk to his studies, but not before he rewarded me handsomely for completing his collection.

On my circuitous route south, I next wound east to stop by Longnotch. Snow started up again.

I told Umnak of my defeat of the Claws Beneath. He was thankful to have his friends avenged and the lands made safer. Honestly, it was just refreshing meeting a Banuk grown old who wasn’t eager to throw himself into the path of an oncoming herd just for the thrill. I preach, but I can’t picture what I would be like at that age. Not willing to back down from the hunt, I’d wager, even when my body joins the long list of naysayers thinking me incapable.

Guess I really am practically Banuk.

Back along the river bank west to Song’s Edge. I told Nalutk the good news about the Fireclaws. I’ve taken out all of the Daemon’s towers too. Its scourge has ended, at least in the Cut. I don’t doubt that it will try again. There might even be other facilities like Firebreak across the lands that Hephaestus has in its sights.

Next, I climbed up to Sekuli to trade the remaining pigments I’d salvaged on my travels. She mourned Ourea, a dear friend and rare dissident of tradition among the Banuk. I left the village as Sekuli ground down some of the pigments and prepared her next piece.

Good hunting in the forests below Song’s Edge, collecting bones and skins to craft new satchels. Shot down a few birds in midair. Every trader seems to want Owls.

I stopped by the Carja encampment to speak to Furanhi and Hishavan about the sorry business with Ruwas. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t Inatut’s Werak leaders that came clean about the other dead Carja soldiers, but Inatut himself—came to them in the garb of a long-dead soldier and scared the Sun Priest half to death. Furanhi was thankful for my part in finding the truth, but the ordeal certainly didn’t renew their trust in the Banuk. Their encampment will be packing up to return to the Sundom shortly. I guess this was the situation Inatut’s Werak were hoping to avoid, but a budding trade relationship isn’t worth a man’s life, no matter how profitable.

I returned to Song’s Edge a couple hours after nightfall to check on Sekuli’s progress. The painting covered the huge swath of stone beneath the village’s traditional sigil. A blizzard swept its surface, on it a herd of machines swirling pale grey and spirit blue into obscure, abstract shapes, into brush strokes. Leading them was a hunter on machine back with a sweeping stroke of red hair. The subject was fairly obvious, but when I asked Sekuli she was vague—any huntress, any mission, any direction through space or time.

I’ve left my mark on the Cut, in deed and now in image. I heard mixed mutterings from the people in the village, some calling the painting peculiar but beautiful, others calling it a defacement. I’ve heard it said that Sekuli’s paintings are prophecies. Makes it all the more important to know where that painted huntress is heading.

I spent my final night in the Cut—at least for now.

#finally done with the frozen wilds!! except the stormslinger upgrade and perfect ranks on the hunting grounds lol #so I have to come back #horizon zero dawn #hzd #aloy sobeck #aloysjournal #hzd remastered #aloy #photomode #virtual photography #horizon

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bl0ssomsakura · 2 years ago

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HLC characters like cat breeds part 1

Hello there! After reading the post of @hogwartslegacyreactions about HLCs as cats I couldn't resist associating them with breeds and traits that fit with them!

Please be patient, this is my first post for Tumblr, and English is not my native language.

you can check part 2 at the link below:

The post had to be separated into two due to the image limit.

The following text contains explanation of certain breeds of cats, none of the animals or pictures belong to me.

Warning: too much cuteness!

Ominis Gaunt: Persian

Very cute and charming, with its unique face and extensive coat, this is a feline that leaves traces of its elegance wherever it goes. Calm and quite intelligent, the Persian cat's behavior carries traits of those who prefer to be safe. They don't usually demand attention all the time, despite being very affectionate.

Sebastian Sallow: British Shorthair

This cat is an excellent and very sociable companion. The breed is known to mature slowly, as its youthful spirit lasts a lifetime. This one is also an eternal conqueror, as the position of his whiskers creates an expression on his ever-smiling face.

Amit Thakkar: Siamese

This cat delights not only for its cute appearance and striking colors, but also for its charismatic and perceptive way. For those who don't know, the Siamese cat is among the smartest cat breeds out there. Extremely communicative, he will try to "talk" to you whenever he can - and for that, he can vocalize a lot, but don't be fooled! Although affectionate and attached to the family, when necessary it can be very independent.

Garreth Weasley: Turkish angora

A very docile and playful cat. They are very loving and cheerful and adore cuddles. Surprise for being very stubborn and smart. They are curious cats, who like to explore where they are and what is possible to do there. Like the extensive Weasley lineage, the Angora is known as one of the oldest breeds in the world. Its long hair requires frequent brushing.

Natsai Onai: Bengal

The pattern of its fur resembles that of a leopard, considered a docile and companion cat, at the same time it is independent and intelligent, it will keep company willingly, never out of dependence or need. Due to their wild instinct, they are not considered especially obedient, but they are excellent hunters, strong and agile athletes.

Poppy Sweeting: Munchkin

Known as the “dwarf cat,” the Munchkin is an adorable little cat with short legs. In addition to their exotic appearance, they are very kind, sweet, playful and like to show their affection. Curious and intelligent, they are quick-witted enough to figure out how to venture out despite their short legs.

Imelda Reyes: Norwegian Forest

The Norwegian Forest Cat has a wild appearance, drawing attention to its beauty and long coat that makes it look like a Lynx. It is a feline of ancient origin and many legends and myths circulate about its history, often being associated with the Vikings. Very sure of themselves, they are extremely intelligent, curious and observant cats. They learn tricks and commands quickly, as well as being an excellent natural athlete.

Anne Sallow: Oriental Havana (initially thought of leaving Anne as a British longhair to match Sebastian as they are twins, but I wanted to give her her own personality)

Also known as the Havana Brown, these cats are alert, intelligent, observant, curious, affectionate and occasionally mischievous. Outgoing, playful and endearingly affectionate, this breed needs human companionship and interaction. Havanas love to nudge their humans with their paw, as if asking for attention.

Everett Clopton: Balinese

Similar in appearance to the Siamese, this is also a very intelligent cat. Its main differences come from its long coat and hyperactive temperament. Companionship has everything to do with their personality: in addition to adapting well to changes, the Balinese cat is perfect for anyone looking for a happy and playful kitten. Being an animal with a lot of energy, the cat of this breed is usually hyperactive and is always running and climbing the furniture.

Leander Prewett: Maine coon

The Maine Coon breed is one of the largest domestic cat breeds, known around the world as the “gentle giant”. They are cats considered sociable and companions, being quite independent, they don't usually like being held so much, but they appreciate being next to their family, showing themselves to be very devoted to their owners. Despite their independence, they like to help their tutors in their activities and learn new things, being considered a very easy cat to train.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy headcanons #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #amit thakkar #garreth weasley #natsai onai #poppy sweeting #imelda reyes #anne sallow #everett clopton #leander prewett

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the-otherspace · 10 months ago

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Draconity and the Astral Plane

Nonhumanity, for me, has always been an experience comparable to escapism. It’s not a coping mechanism or a chosen experience, but it feels like the “other” in otherkin refers to another world. My dragonself exists in the astral plane, typically tied to headspace. I'm one of three headmates, all nonhuman and all existing in a space that's literally… space. I'm a space dragon.

I've always felt that I was some form of not-human, going through sporadic childhood phases of animal roleplay. I would cycle through various types of animals - a lion from the Lion King, a gorilla from Tarzan, sometimes alligators (which was really fun to roleplay in a pool.) I’d stalk the tall grass of my yard like a tiger, climb the stairs on all fours like a dog, tear into pork chops with no hands. Animality was a staple of my childhood imagination. Eventually this turned into dragon roleplay.

Dragons are incredibly flexible as a species, so I could stalk the grasses and tear up meat and growl and swim and attribute it all to draconity. I found myself looking up pictures of dragons online, loving the designs that had fur or feathers. I loved dragons that weren't the typical scaly, fire-breathing ones because they felt more like me. I imagined myself as those dragons, feeling the fur and scales and feathers on my own body. I didn’t realize at the time that I was seeing my own dragon body parts on another dragon and relating to it.

I don't remember when I learned about otherkinity, but hearing about it unleashed a wave of relief and validation and clarity. I wasn't alone in those moments when I would imagine myself with ears that could pivot toward the source of a sound or a tail that would swish back and forth behind me while I walked. Other people out there experience this same thing and there’s a name for it, which helped me to better understand myself.

When I discovered a bit more recently that I'm a system, I started working toward developing headspace. I needed a fully-formed plane of existence where I could go when not fronting. In a meditation session one day, I found myself taking the form of a dragon when I finally accessed headspace for the first time. I could never imagine flying around in “meatspace” (due to my fear of heights), but it felt so natural in headspace because it's all just actual space. Instead of the typical individual homes or rooms for us headmates (which is a common way to form headspace), we have planets. Instead of grassy hills or dense forests, there are galaxies and stardust. While a lot of dragons are exploring lakes and mountains and jungles, my natural habitat is among the stars.

When I am in my most dissociative state, I am also most like my dragonself. I escape to the astral realm to be in the quiet of the void for a while. I fly through star systems and visit the planets of my headmates. I explore my own planet, a home representative of me. Nothing here can hurt me or do me any wrong because it’s the closest to home I’ve ever felt. Sometimes I fall asleep while away in headspace and when I wake up, I feel the tingling remnants of my astral wings on my back and when I stretch, the wings stretch with me.

I don’t have a very conventional dragon experience. I don’t breathe fire, collect gold, eat meat, protect myself against knights, or see myself as a species that lives any place that would exist on Earth. My fur is white like starlight but sometimes also ghostly, like a galactic apparition (and I’ve drawn my dragonself in both these forms.) I have paws and claws, with a flowing mane of hair and a long non-prehensile tail. I look like the plainest OC ever created. But my story is still important because it’s a small part of a very large community with all sorts of different experiences. My story matters because it’s a part of something much bigger than myself.

#other.txt #otherkin #dragonkin #alterhuman #dragon #otherkin essays #plurality #headspace

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the-nosy-neighbor · 11 months ago

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Who is alive?

This all feels very much like the rumors that swirled around the Abbey Road album by the Beatles. There was a whole lot of speculation that Paul McCartney was dead because he wasn’t wearing shoes in the picture, among other details.

So, let’s look at the crackpot details:

Barnaby is dead. (theory) details taken from r/welcomehomeneighbor or r/welcomehomearg (I will post the user details when/if I find them.)

In the first image, Wally is sitting on a rock. The rock is blue, and appears to have a hand and arm. The colors on the hand are similar to the drawing of Barnaby’s paw that we see. The paw is open with the palm up, based on the art of the paw and the color of the pads. It looks like Barnaby has a red slash across his wrist. There is a tic tac toe board on what would either be his back or belly. I haven’t gotten to the tic-tac-toe parts yet, but my assumption is that the colors of the tic-tac-toe marks tell us something as well. Using that theory, this game would be between Frank and Julie. The colors kind of blend, so it is hard to be certain here.

Then, we have a drawing of Wally on the News page, which seems on the up and up. It’s a news page, everyone loves Wally. So we have a drawing of him sitting in an armchair, reading a paper. The armchair has a detail that is very suspicious. The patch on the chair has a polka dot pattern that is closely associated with Barnaby. Could this be Barnaby’s skin? When you look closer, you can see that Barnaby’s face is on the newspaper. I have seen speculation that this is a missing persons type article or death announcement, but Barnaby could very well be included in some Welcome Home paper for about anything.

The clothespins in a secret video: the Barnaby/Frank video.

There are a row of clothespins that look like people. I’ve always thought those type of clothespins look like people. It looks very much like they are made up of a head, trunk, and legs. There is a row of pins, almost like a semicircle, around one pin (upside down), and a destroyed tomato. (Barnaby gets tomatoes thrown at him.)

In the video between Frank and Julie we have dialogue about bugs eating the vegetables and what should be done about it, but in this video, Frank and Wally are having some garden time together (with Wally’s view very low, as if he is laying on his belly while looking at the tomatoes) as Frank teaches Wally about how these blue flowers require a basic soil, and how pine straw shouldn’t be used for these flowers. I think these are hydrangeas, as they appear pink, purple, or blue depending on the acidity of the soil. (according to google, hydrangeas are unique in this way. Blue equals higher acidity, pink equals lower.) According to The Spruce, the idea that pine needs lower ph or acidify soil is a myth (I don’t know if that is relevant.)

Frank and Barnaby have an unfriendly conversation here. Granted, these characters are foils, with Frank being meticulous and fussy and Barnaby being super casual and joking all the time. It appears that Barnaby’s only activity that gets discussed throughout the website so far is that he goes around telling people jokes, hanging out with Wally, and chasing Eddie around the neighborhood. The chasing thing, at least, could be a reason for Frank to be put off by Barnaby, but it could just be the fact that they are so different.

Frank is so done with Barnaby from the beginning, (which I totally get because pun runs are pretty much the worst) and it quickly devolves into Frank being catty about the color of Barnaby’s fur, and he actually seems to kind of take offense. Barnaby continues to punish us all with puns until Frank makes him leave, and says “I don’t understand why you like him, W…”

During the video clips so far, we have seen Barnaby interacting with different people. He and Howdy get along because of the jokes, but I don’t trust either of them, especially given the way Howdy sells fake food to Sally (I will discuss at some point.) Barnaby is pretty awful to Julie, telling her that her joke is terrible and she can’t tell jokes. Barnaby chases down Eddie to get his packages, even though Eddie has apparently told him time and time again that he has to put it in the mailbox (I don’t know whose policy, maybe just Eddie’s?” And in the final clip of the day, Barnaby is talking to home about everyone, being snarky and unkind, to the point that home seems to be disapproving.

Back to some non-canon art.

As an early representation, we only see five colors on the phone: Wally, Barnaby, Julie, Frank and Poppy. The covered entities could potentially be dead/gone/erased. Home is not included as a neighbor, which continues. Two options on the phone dial are blanked out, as well.

It could be that color nuance is removed in the grainy footage, but it might mean something specific that those colors are there. If the video goes back up, I will get the full order of colors.

The tomato in our video image have been demolished. They are completely open and spread out on the ground. The tomatoes behind the row of figures are whole and look healthy enough. This could be pointing to the death/destruction of our upside down clothespin friend and the neighbors being the line of defense between certain destruction and safety.

#welcome home #wally darling #welcome home theories #welcome home wally #welcome home arg

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that-darn-clown · 2 months ago

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hi. had some thoughts about something.

so like. there's a Fazbear Frights story about, well, Fazbear's Fright/Fnaf 3, featuring a character named Hudson.

now...technically speaking, "What We Found" is canon in Blurred Lenses. but not in the way you'd think.

and by that i mean "it's My timeline/characterization of William, so I get to do whatever the fuck i want"

for one thing, Hudson gets...a happier ending here (even if he gets maimed/mauled a little, but y'know. He Doesn't Fucking Die, At Least).

another thing to note: William has an uncanny ability to effectively draw abused and/or neglected children (or those who once Were children) to him like moths to a flame. this will be important, and i'll let you figure out how.

so now...onto a summary of what happens to Hudson.

-----

it's 2008, and Fazbear Entertainment (or, to be more accurate, what's left of them) decides to open a "museum" of sorts to showcase the company's darker history, with a "pizzeria recreation" section made out of old artifacts found at the old locations (with an emphasis placed on NOT TOUCHING ANYTHING) where the security office and certain emergency exits were found. they had...a few different night shifts, unlike the pizzerias themselves (which only had one): the 6-9 PM shift, the 9 PM-12 AM shift, and, of course, the infamous 12-6 AM shift.

enter Hudson, a young man just trying to get a fresh start to life, gets a job as the 9-12 guard. after leaving home (mostly to escape a stepfather that he was honestly starting to worry was going to kill him if he didn't leave soon), he decides to apply for a job at "Fazbear's Frightening Past" as a way to get money for rent.

but...after only a couple of nights working, he gets these mysterious phone calls from a "higher-up" in the company who just calls himself "Will." it's...a comforting presence, especially during the nights where he's alone. even better...the guy seems interested in learning about him, not just spewing random bullshit at him for a few hours.

Hudson finds his paycheck mysteriously raised after mentioning his situation in passing during one of these phone calls, and when questioned, just mentioned that he'd been talking to a "higher-up" and no one seemed to look into it too hard. it's enough for him to pay for essentials and to treat himself a little. well, sure, it's a bit fishy, but hey, never look a gift horse in the mouth, right?

it gets...stranger after FE brings in an old O'Hare animatronic...that they then place in the pizzeria section (Hudson wishes they'd put it literally anywhere else; it gives him the creeps). suddenly, his calls with "Will" get significantly clearer and easier to listen to. the man seems to know what he looks like all of a sudden ("Will" claims that it's because of a picture of Hudson in the company records, and...well, who's Hudson to argue?), among other odd occurrences (electronics flickering, the animatronic Straight Up Moving, which "Will" just tells Hudson not to worry about because "it's harmless," etc.).

then something else happens.

Hudson's practically a wreck on the phone call a few nights later; Lewis, his stepfather, has been showing up at his apartment lately, harassing Hudson and his neighbors, and the poor kid's at his limit.

the next night, he learns of two things: The Animatronic went mysteriously missing during the previous shift before suddenly showing back up at the end (while the night guard before Hudson was blamed, they weren't fired), and seemed to have blood around the paw and claw area that seemed to have been fucking cleaned somehow.

the second? Lewis was in a coma at the hospital. something had attacked him.

there were two reasons Hudson was ruled out as a suspect: for one, he was at another job of his, and his alibi was solid. uh...two?

Lewis had been maimed. no human could've done that to him, or it was incredibly unlikely.

Hudson mentions this on his call with "Will" and notes that the man seems...odd. he seems somewhat disappointed that Lewis survived.

the next night is when ALL hell breaks loose.

while on his phone call with "Will," The Animatronic comes to his office doorway. but that isn't the worrying part.

no, it's that Hudson is starting to hear "Will's" voice coming from it.

at first, he chalks it up to the thing somehow mimicking the man's voice, and that "Will" had only gone silent because he'd heard the voice coming from The Animatronic.

but he starts to realize, with dawning horror, that this is no act of mimicry.

the man he's been talking to this whole time is standing right in front of him, and he doesn't seem as friendly anymore.

Hudson makes a run for it through the halls, trying to make it back to the main part of the building. all while struggling with the fact that the very same man who'd offered Hudson a shoulder to cry on, who he'd poured his soul out to, was now chasing him down to likely kill him. he tries to wrack his brain around why and how this was happening, what he'd done to deserve any of this, before he effectively finds himself being slammed down to the ground, hard.

he doesn't think he's been in so much pain before. he honestly thinks that he's going to die (he wonders, briefly, if this is what Lewis felt).

as he's drifting in and out of consciousness, he eventually awakens to see someone, not a coworker of his, sitting over him, expressing shock that he was even alive, before the person (who introduced himself as "Mike") shushes him, hands him some bandages and a cloth to press against the wounds on his chest to hopefully buy Hudson some time, and tells him to stay still and quiet for the time being; that he and "Sammy" (who Hudson vaguely recognizes as the guard whose shift was after his own) would get him some help in a few hours.

he watches, delirious, as Mike quietly moves and hides in the building, going as far as even trying to lure The Animatronic away from where Hudson was hiding.

he woke up in the hospital, with the doctors and nurses expressing shock that he was alive, and with a check and a note from Mike and Sammy, but mostly Mike ("Sorry my dad's an asshole; take some money, get out of town, and get yourself some therapy. Get better soon, man!").

he didn't need to be told that twice. thank god he had family out of town...

he still doesn't really know what happened there. or how he's even alive.

Ough!!!!!

#the clown! it speaks!

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crackspinewornpages · 3 months ago

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Jim Henson's Labyrinth 19/19 -A.C.H. Smith

Jareth held a few crystals, one of them swirling in the air and flicking it away into a bubble. it drifted and the other three followed outside. The four bubbles approached Sarah, who stared at them entranced. hearing music, the first one had the dancer from her music box. Sarah swayed with the music inside the bubble, dressed in a ball gown, dancing with the others, each bubble had a dancer in it, approaching the other bubble, inside was a ballroom with Jareth waiting. Didymus and Ludo came to the edge of the forest, in the distance the walls of the castle. as Didymus turned to call Sarah she wasn't there, they didn't notice the bubble floating above their heads.

The ballroom was full of opulence that hard worn away, (100 years of dripping wax candles making stalagmites and threadbare silk tapestries) and the thirteenth hour clock chimed. Sarah watched the bubble dancers and they watched her behind their masks moving in a ring lethargically as they did all night or they lounged against the wall or cushioned pits, (tended to by maids and footmen that had parchment skin so how long have these people been here at this fae party) smiling like knives at Sarah. “She was the picture of innocence in that setting, a picture that excited the dancers, who never took their masked eyes off her,”p.157 Sarah looked in a mirror and saw Jareth pass by dancing with a woman, as she turned he vanished and as she looked for him didn’t notice a young man leering at her. Jareth watched it all, following her in the corrupt ballroom. Sarah was self-conscious now among these strangers who acted like they knew something she didn't and she hurried looking for Jareth, not knowing what to say, just that it was important she found him.

She saw him whispering to his partner and she looked away in embarrassment to another mirror and saw Jareth now alone (another My Immortal like description of his clothes) and he held out a hand for her. Sarah took it and her dizziness ceased as she spun around the ballroom, she knew she was the loveliest woman of all by the way Jareth smiled at her. She feels it’s like dream but she doesn't remember any dream like this. She saw in his face he was enjoying this moment with no mocking or secretiveness on the others. “And when you’ve found your way in, stay in your dream, Sarah.”-“Believe me. If you want to be truly free, wholly yourself-you do want that, don’t you?”p.159 Sarah did. “Then you will find what you want only as long as you stay in your dream. Once abandoned, and you are at the mercy of other people’s dreams.”p.160

As she almost kissed him, she closed her eyes but the silence made open them, the music stopped and everyone else was watching, almost laughing. Sarah wrenched herself away from him as he tried to force a kiss, (he’s such a creeper I’m glad David Bowie adamantly refused to kiss the underaged Jennifer Connelly) the clock struck twelve. She ran through the crowd until she saw the membrane and hurled a chair at it bursting the bubble. (yes Sarah get out of that Weinstein Schneider Hollywood party) She was sucked through space and on the ground saw her friends looking up at her. Behind her the ballroom collapsed into junk she recognized from her room. “If this is the debris of the ballroom, she thought, then all my life must have been at that ball, in disguise.”p.161 (hmmm) The sea of junk stretched beyond the horizon spinning Sarah around with it, then it stopped and she was on the ground still holding the rotting peach, she flung it away and fainted.

Sarah woke up nowhere and could only remember being at the ball ashamed at almost falling for Jareth’s charm and feeling soiled. “Those men who pawed her, Jareth trying so rudely to force a kiss upon her-had she been truly innocent, they would not have behaved like that toward her, would they?”p.163 (Sarah Sarah normally I’d say you acted like a stupid child not thinking but this this you are a child and they are a bunch of creepy adults who took advantage of a child) She looked at the desolate landscape wondering what she was doing. “No one in sight. It was a place where you would soon forget your own name.”p.163 When she stood up the pile of rags she was on moved, the woman told her to get off her back. A little old goblin woman carried a pile of junk on her back, that’s what the other mounds of garbage were.

Sarah doesn't know where she was going, “You can't look where you’re going if you don’t know where you’re going.”p.164 Sarah didn't argue she just knew she was looking for something, of course she was, they all are, she’s already found lots of things. She gave Sarah things to get started on her own pile, digging through she gave Sarah Lancelot bringing her childish joy like she was a little girl again. Is it what she was looking for, yes, she forgot about it and the old goblin points to her tent for Sarah to look through, inside was her room.

Sarah woke up in her bed holding Lancelot, it was all a nightmare it was so real and she was still nervous, she opened the door and it led to the wasteland. The old woman asks if she likes the things as Sarah repeats that it’s just a dream, she opens the door again, this time the old woman barged in. She told Sarah it’s best to stay inside, nothing she wants is out there, as she looked around finding things and putting them in Sarah’s arms. She names Sarah things asking if she remembers, “something else was working at Sarah’s feelings, something grey and listless, like despair. She recognized it, but couldn't be sure of its cause.”p.167 (ah this old lady is Sarah’s depression and attachment disorder talking)

The old woman piled things on her back as Sarah stared at herself in the mirror (she’s also smearing lipstick on her mouth) her shoulders were starting to bow. She starts to think of what she was looking for but the old woman tells her not to talk about it. “It’s all here, everything you’ve ever cared about.”p.168 Sarah stopped listening to the woman or she would have cried and looked for something to distract her off the condescension. On the dressing table was the Labyrinth book, she picked it up and recited the lines and remembered Toby then everything altered, the room was the same but Sarah looked at it with new eyes. “the whole room was a garbage heap, a dead shrine to a spirit that had fled.”p.169 (that spirit being her childhood self) She called it all junk and the woman was taken aback trying to find things and gave Sarah, the music box, (sounds like the ballroom) it’s also junk. “she knew what the grey despair had been. This room was a prison, and she was her own jailor. And so she had the key to release herself, to go and do the thing that mattered.”p.169 (yay she’s breaking out of her arrested development) She had to save Toby and heard her name being called, she stood up shrugging off the junk and the room fell apart. Two hands reached from above and Sarah grabbed on being pulled up to the ground to her friends, behind them was the castle.

They were at the gates of the Goblin City, Didymus asks if she’s sure she wants to go to the castle. she has to or she’ll lose her little brother. They move forward with Hoggle lingering behind, Didymus shouted at the sleeping goblin guard to open up (that let men in meme) until Sarah begged for him not to make so much noise. Ludo pushed the gate and it swung open (remember the beginning when Sarah was looking for the key to unlocked labyrinth) and it slammed shut as soon as they were in and another pair was open ahead of them but shut before they reached them. At each door was half a set of armor that now formed a titanic warrior called Humongous who wielded two axes. He missed his swing and it hit the wall sending sparks, they dodged his swings trying to take cover. Between a blow Didymus spotted something on the parapet, Hoggle running along toward the inner gate with a purpose.

Hoggle jumped down on Humongous and kicked his helmet knocking it open revealing a tiny goblin working the controls. Hoggle grabbed him and tossed him out and took over the levers making Humongous go out of control and smoke as Hoggle jumped out. Humongous was on a rampage working his way back to the inner gates, swinging into the arch and breaking down as he overloaded. Sarah asks Hoggle if he’s alright, but Hoggle says he’s not asking to be forgiven. he doesn't care what she thinks, he said he was a coward and not interested in being friends. She forgives him and Didymus says what he did was courageous, Ludo calls him a friend. Sarah gives him back his jewels and Ludo opens the gates and the party heads into the Goblin City.

The goblins watched Jareth play with Toby, wishing they could play with him, Jareth would tickle Toby and when in range, Toby would punch him in the face. Jareth laughs that he’s spirited, he’ll name him after himself, (is this just for Toby or does he rename all the stolen babies) he has his eyes, and as Toby smacks him in one says his disposition too. Goblins then came running in yelling that the girl who ate the peach is here with a monster, Sir Didymus and a gnome. (his wiki says he’s a dwarf) They got past Humongous and are on their way to the castle, Jareth commands them to stop her. He hands Toby (he calls him Jarethkin unsure if that means he’s now family or all the goblins are considered that) off to one of the goblins to take care of, Sarah must not get him. As the goblins run off Jareth was left alone repeating she must be stopped from getting the baby.

Goblin City was a shantytown decorated in Goblin Grotesque style and rotting garbage littered the streets huddled in the shadows of the castle. In the dawn the city seemed asleep, and the party made their way through the marketplace as Sarah and Hoggle tell Didymus to keep quiet. Hoggle calls it a piece of cake as Sarah thinks they're going to make it. Hoggle should have known better the last time that phrase was said and now the danger was a bugle that sounded the goblin army they could only run back into town. (thanks a lot Hoggle you jinxed it) Jareth watched the chaos and winced as the four ran through the city as other goblins popped their heads out of windows to look. Sarah had them run into an abandoned house and bolted the door telling Didymus to guard it while she and Hoggle watched the windows and Ludo the roof.

As a goblin smashed through a window Sarah brought a plate down on its head, one recognized Hoggle as he used to be with them, Hoggle hit him with a teapot. Sarah and Hoggle were overwhelmed and Didymus wondered if he should disobey orders when the door started to splinter by a battering ram he tried to fend them off with his staff but it wasn't in reach when the door burst open. Sarah and Hoggle were running out of crockery and the horde kept coming, they asked Hoggle what did they do to him, they stole Sarah’s brother, he knows they steal babies. Ludo was knocking down goblins on ladders when canons were called up that misfired.

Inside Didymus heard the goblins talking about eating Sarah and he was infuriated and charged at the goblins in town, disarming the horde. Sarah saw him surrounded by goblins wielding spears and called for Ludo to summon rocks and for Hoggle to retreat up the stairs. As Ludo roared a distant rumbling followed as bits fell off the castle walls but, in the meantime, Didymus was cornered, and they were trapped on the roof. Sarah calls for Didymus to hold them back as she made a rope out of sheets for them to climb down. Didymus fought his way to the roof and while on the rope, cut it, so the goblins wouldn't follow and fell using the sheet to parachute down. Meanwhile the rocks filled the streets overtaking the army and walling them up allowing Sarah to lead her friends back to the castle and walk inside the throne room. “The chamber was deserted. In the middle of it was a cradle, empty. The clock showed three minutes to thirteen.”p.190 (gasp Jareth you cheating bastard) The vulture sitting above the throne laughed.

Toby was gone, but Sarah knew Jareth wouldn't abandoned his castle, the only other way was a set of stairs. Sarah ran for it and the others followed but she stopped them, she has to face them alone. “Because that’s the way it’s done.”p.192 All the stories do Sarah felt awful, but she was right and Didymus agreed. “But shouldst thou have need of us...”p.192 (hmm) She went up the stairs and found herself in a hall with many staircases, balconies doors and windows, inside out, backwards and upside down and went on alternating. (so an MC Esher painting Winchester Manor mix with Hogwarts physics) Sarah edged her way along when Jareth calls that he’s been expecting her, Toby is safe in his keep, he’s not keeping him because she’s here. Jareth tells her she’s answered none of the riddles and doesn't even know the questions, she understands nothing. (thank you for calling that out) “You are wrong. I have come to understand one thing very well. You are just putting on a show of confidence. It doesn’t take me in anymore. You are frightened Jareth.”p.193 (yes call his ass out too) They both are.

They stared at each other for a few seconds then Jareth moved around the stairs calling Sarah cruel and they are evenly matched. “I need your cruelty, just as you need mine.”p.194 Sarah was losing balance watching him then she saw Toby, she had to reach him, Jareth mirroring everywhere she went, laughing. Jareth tossed a crystal ball, Toby followed it over the edge along a wall, defying laws of gravity. Sarah chased after him but he kept getting out of reach at risk of falling off a balcony or stairs. (safe in his keep my ass you don’t even have a single baby gate) Suddenly Jareth spun her around, “It has been a fine game, Sarah, and now it’s time to finish playing, because you cannot ever win.”p.195 Sarah saw Toby near a window, birds were outside, it wasn’t an illusion and she jumped to reach him, Jareth smiled triumphantly. “If he could not keep the baby, nor would she.”p.196

Sarah opened her eyes and found herself in another part of the hall, something changed, a wing of the castle was in ruins, the stones were gone, grass in the cracks the turrets collapsed growing brambles. The sound around Jareth now had a forlorn ring to it. “Jareth stepped out from a shadowy archway, wearing a faded, threadbare cloak. His face looked older, drawn. In his blond mane was a trace of grey.”p.196 (so what does he really need baby youth to keep himself young and his kingdom running) She demanded Toby, he warns he’s been generous until now, but he can be cruel, he’s done everything she’s wanted. “You asked that the child be taken. I took him. You coward before me, I was frightening.”-”I have reordered time,”-”I have turned the world upside down.”-”And I have done it all for you,”-”I am exhausted from living up to your expectations. Isn’t that generous?”p.197 (he played the role of the villain in her story)

Sarah starts to recite the lines from the play as Jareth yells at her to stay back and stop, offering another crystal to show her her dreams. She continues and he says he asks so little, just believe in him and she can have everything, when she fumbles the lines again. “Just fear me and love me, “-”and do as I say, and I...I will be your slave.”p.198 And Sarah finally recalled the words. “You have no power over me.”p.198 Jareth and the goblins shouted no as the clock struck, (there’s no way all that happened in three minutes) he tossed the bubble up his face distorted in it and when Sarah touched it it burst. Jareth disappeared, leaving his dusty cloak and at the twelfth chime a white owl flew out from under it, flying circles over her.

Sarah wiped her eyes saying she needs to get out of the habit of crying and going over the top, (finally some growth) then remembered she hadn't found Toby. The owl was still flying above her but she was on the staircase of her home. The owl flew out an open window and she ran up the stairs shouting for Toby, he was asleep in his crib, she woke him up cuddling him and gave him Lancelot. She watched him sleep for a long time before going back to her room, it was after midnight and her parents would be home soon. She looked around her room, at the old photographs and removed them one at a time, putting them in a drawer including the old family photo and music box.

Downstairs, Irene called for her and Sarah held the Labyrinth book, “Wait,”-”I am closing a chapter of my life. Just wait.”p.202 And she put the playbook in the drawer and called back she’s there and welcome back, surprising Irene. Sarah thought once was enough for now and pushed the drawer shut, behind her in the window was a reflection of Ludo saying goodbye. When she spun around the room was empty then it was Sir Didymus. “And remember, sweetest damsel, shouldst thou ever have a need...” “I’ll call.”p.203 She told him goodbye and Hoggle appeared. “Yes, if you ever need us...for any reason at all...”p.203 Sarah says she needs them all then the Wise Man appeared. “Sometimes,”-”to need is...to let go.”p.203 Outside the owl watched and waited and flew away unseen. (growing up isn’t leaving childish things behind it’s carrying them with you in different ways)

FIRST

#the labyrinth #ach smith #books #book summaries #science fiction fantasy #adventure

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sabraeal · 2 years ago

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Tenderness Like a Bruise, Chapter 2

[Read on AO3]

Took a small break from frantic bingo writing to make this for @puffdragongirl‘s birthday! Robin asked for MORE OD ANA, and since I had always meant to continue with this fic...I was happy to tack another chapter on!

The petal and wings of Wisteria may burst across this man’s throat, but he’s no royal messenger Od Ana’s ever seen. Too young, for one; his pale hair fluffs out from his scalp like a chick’s feathers, kind that shouldn’t be wandering so far out from under their mother’s nethers. His daemon’s been ridden hard too, her flanks heaving the way an experienced rider would never allow.

Still, she’s got enough spirit in her to give Od Ana one of those wall-eyed stares, the kind that shows white all around. That’s what they get, having their reputation precede them like it does. The prince’s messenger and his witch daemon. Sometimes he’s got her so far away you can’t even see her. Can’t trust a man like that.

They’re lucky that daemon doesn’t take more after a horse and balk for the shock of it.

Ah, but whatever she thinks of its bearer, the bad news is stamped with the royal seal all the same. “There’s the message. From the prince himself!”

There’s a certain amount of pomp to these things; the messenger holds it out, a little square that can’t have much more than a handful of lines scrawled on it, and bows like it’s some lordly edict. And for all that, Obi sits back in his hips and takes it, opening it with little more than a flick of his wrist.

There’s a trick to it, of course: apply the correct amount of force at the right angle and wax sheers from the sheet without even clipping the Wisteria wings. But messenger boy doesn’t know it; he just stands there gawping like he just fell off the wagon, impressed by nothing more than a party trick. Od Ana hopes for his sake he learns to hide it better. There’s plenty of thorns in Wistal’s garden that would enjoy having a bumpkin in their pocket. The king, for starters.

“Ah, but also...Sir Obi...on my way here...”

Od Ana glances up, claws flexing over collarbone, and, ah, she’s seen that wide-eyed gaze before, that starry shine. She may have no name to put to a face for him, but it looks like whatever reputation has wended its way back to Wistal has more in common with Hiro’s hero worship than city folk superstition.

The messenger’s reedy voice drops to a whisper. “I heard news about the string of attacks on noblemen.”

Obi glances up, the bristle of his hair brushing her feathers. “Oh yeah? A new development?”

“Well...” Under Obi’s direct attention, the boy shies the way young men do at a pretty girl’s doorstep. “They say that the lead suspect is, ah...”

Hisame Lugis. The name springs to her beak on reflex, instinct. She’s only seen the man once, malingering at the edges of a ballroom, but she’s heard enough about that little ladder-climber to know he’s the sort that wouldn’t be shy sharing a few knives to the back among friends. Especially if those lucky pals were thinking about putting their grubby paws on the same heiress of Seiran.

“...Sir Mitsuhide Lowen.”

The papers flutter to the cobbles, Obi’s hands boneless above them. “What?”

Obi might have a memory like a steel trap, but between the two of them, it’s Od Ana who reads faster. She hunches over his shoulder, skimming the prince’s sloping script, and still, she can’t put it all together, can’t make it make sense. The lords, the murders, Sereg, Mitsuhide. Maybe from a distance the edges blur into a big picture, like one of those fancy paintings in Wistal’s galleries, but from here, on the ground, she can’t see it. Can’t see how anyone would think a man like Mitsuhide Lowen would send another man to do his dirty work. Dust, that he’d have dirty work to begin with.

She’s got a hundred thoughts buzzing in her head, each more nasty than the last, but Obi doesn’t say a word, doesn’t do anything but lean over the stone and stare out over the plaza. Shirayuki’s down there right now, with Ryuu too, and neither of them know, neither of them could even suspect...

Her beak clicks, annoyance biting at her like mites. “You aren’t actually thinking of going.”

It’s not a question, it’s a hope. A blind one, flung out into the wind as an attempt to slow their descent. Because she already knows the answer: he is. And the longer he says silent, the more sure she becomes.

“Don’t.” It’s not in her to plead. Birds don’t have knees, she’d always say-- not where Shirayuki hear-- but, oh, Obi has enough for them both. What’d be nice is if he could stop getting on them. “Zen hasn’t even asked for you.”

“He has.” The words roll off his lips just like that first step he took in the forest. Playful, testing the edge of his limits, flirting with the promise of pain. The next one will be worse, she knows, and the next, all the way up to when it suddenly isn’t. To when it’s all gone. “There’s no other reason for Master to send another guard up here.”

Not unless he’s already expecting Obi to come sit at his heel. That’s how these Wisterias work, of course: everything written between the lines. Obi wouldn’t be sagging underneath his sir if he wasn’t fluent in it. If they both weren’t.

Doesn’t mean she has to like it.

“We have something good here.” And she’s not ready for that sting again, for the burning in her chest as another bond breaks, left to die somewhere out in snow. “Something real. There’s no reason to give that up to--”

“They need us.” One corner of his mouth lifts, helpless. “And if we turn our back on them now, on Mister...”

His shoulder lifts, and oh, she knows that hopeless look all too well. If we don’t go, his smile says, then we aren’t who she thinks we are.

The worst part is: he’s right.

“Shirayuki,” Suzu observes, far too mild. “Your flask is going to boil over.”

“What? Oh!” With a blink, the apparatus comes into focus, and ah, yes, that is too rigorous a roil when she’s looking for something just a hair above a simmer. “Ah, thank you.”

His shoulders shrug the way a hanger might, all wires and sharp edges, coat surviving through sheer hardiness of the fur. “Don’t mention it.”

And just like that, he walks away. No, ‘gee, Shirayuki, what’s got you so distracted?‘ or ‘is there something on your mind?’ Hermia gives a sympathetic blink, but she doesn’t so much as croak to slow him down either, just sits on his shoulder like a moss does on a log while he wends around the lab, aimless.

Shirayuki sighs, turning the valve on her burner until the flame flickers at a much cheerier orange. Fiddles with the legs on her alembic’s stands for good measure too; anything to keep her mind from drifting back out to the market, to the stairs she’d watched for nearly half an hour before Suzu came to distract her with work. His work, specifically, but it had been better than sitting on cold stone and wondering.

“Worrying,” Perkunas hums, paws catching her around the ankle. “You’d been worrying. Like you are now.”

“I’m not,” she snips, because she isn’t, not at all. It’s just that Obi and Od Ana exchanged one of those glances of theirs before they left, the kind that came just before a blizzard blew down from the mountains, or before adopted brothers climbed up a balcony to steal her away to the mountains. The kind that said trouble was coming, and they’d have to put themselves right in its path.

Not that she’s been turning that over in her head all afternoon. She hasn’t. It’s just been there, tugging at her thoughts the same way Perkunas tugs at her patience, siphoning off gulps of her attention until--

Well, until things boil over. Which she’s half tempted to do as well, if Perkunas can’t leave her hem alone. “Oh, honestly,” she huffs, ducking down to glower at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be the wise one?”

He only stares back, all glossy eyes and innocence, as if one of his claws weren’t already caught around a stitch. If only she were Od Ana, she could click her beak right at him and let him know just how close he’s coming to her limit, and--

The lab door clanks against the shelves, her only warning before an all-too familiar voice calls out, “My Lady!”

It’s impossible to tell who cries “Obi!” first, but it’s Perkunas who trundles down the stairs so quick it yanks at their tether, hard enough that she hits a hip against the table trying to follow. She hobbles over to the top of the staircase just in time for his head to butt into Obi’s shin, and oh, she feels that all the way back in her mouth, molars jittering together with every descending step.

The hand that scritches behind Perkunas’s round little ears is thoughtless, a habit, but when Obi stops in front of her, smile stitched poorly into place, the space he leaves is purposeful. For a moment, she wishes he might reach for her, might catch her elbow in a palm, but instead he turns to a spooked Suzu and lilts, “Sorry about that. Mind if I whisk her away for a minute?”

“Uh?” Suzu glances between them, wide-eyed. “Go ahead.”

Hermia ruffles her feathers, all mouth when she adds, “Doubt we could stop you.”

It’s Od Ana’s place to click her beak, to drawl a clear, you got that right, but--

But she’s not here. And that, more than anything, makes her breath catch, makes her practically gasp out, “Lead the way.”

It’s strange to see Obi how the guards must, his back to the pillar and arms folded, all his usual warmth filed away for professionalism. Perkunas scampers after him, parking his round bottom right over one of his boots, and-- and it’s the sort of thing that might make her laugh, if he could meet her eyes.

“According to the messenger--” Obi’s voice echoes in the empty hall, a low, rasping thing made for grim conversations and even grimmer secrets “--the royal guard is sending a messenger to Sereg to basically put Mitsuhide under arrest.”

“That’s...” Her tongue plumbs the cavern of her mouth, suddenly strange with unfamiliar words. “That’s absurd. H-how? Why?”

One of his shoulders shrugs, the lazy sort he used to do back when he spent more time hanging down from trees than with his feet on the ground. From when she used to wonder if he had a daemon at all. “The decision is based on the testimony of this knight, Taws.”

And who is he? she wants to ask. How is his word worth so much more than a man like Mitsuhide’s?

All she manages is a strangled, “Mm.” Partially from the anger constricting her throat, and partially--

Ah, well, it’s distracting for Perkunas to paw at him like that, hopping around and bapping at his waist, enough that the wool scratches at her own hands. And when Obi bends down, scooping him up...

“Master didn’t mention any of it in his letter,” he grunts, arranging the chubby body over his shoulder. Perkunas trills, the round dome of his head bonking into Obi’s jaw once, twice, before he figures out how to fit beneath it, like a child who had long outgrown a lap but is loath to admit it. “So I guess he probably hasn’t heard. Yet.”

Shirayuki smooths a palm over her waist; it does nothing for the phantom press there, nor the one just behind her thigh, but, well, it’s hardly unpleasant. “Ah...”

His gaze meets hers over Perkunas’ head, and oh, it would be nice if she could fit as neatly, if only so she might be held when he says, “I’d better look into it.”

Perkunas grunts, annoyed. “Why?”

Obi’s mouth pulls thin. “Because I know for a fact what kind of person Mitsuhide is.”

That steadies her, makes her knees feel more solid than commissary jelly. “Yeah,” she breathes, giving her head a stiff nod. “So do I.”

“What about us?” Perkunas whines, wiggling in his arms. “Do you think they might come after us?”

Obi’s grip stiffens, eyes pulsing wide.

“I won’t let that happen,” he promises, pulling Perkunas closer. He gets another head butt for his troubles. “You just stay here in Lilias, the both of you.”

“But--”

“Okay.” It’s a betrayed look her daemon turns to her, his clownish face rumpled in a grimace, but she just stares at him, serious. “We’ll stay put, if that’s what will help.”

Obi lets out a sigh, his whole body slumping down the pillar in relief, Perkunas cradled tight against his chest. “Yeah, it sure will.”

His head lifts, and Perkunas wiggles again, squirming until his back half plops on the the ground, front paws still clinging to Obi’s shoulders. “Anyway, you little sausage,” he laughs, scrubbing him behind the ears. “If they were gonna threaten Master through you, it wouldn’t make sense to go round about it like this. No--” his brows tilt, thoughtful “--they’re after him and the aides. I’m sure of it.”

“I don’t like it.” It’s so easy for Perkunas to say those things, to play the petulant child when he’s all clumsy cuddles and funny faces. If she tried-- well, there’s a reason she doesn’t. “Couldn’t you just tell them...?”

“Nah, they’ve got enough on their plate. This is my job.” Obi presses his head to his, serious as he says, “So I gotta do it.”

Perkunas sits back, arms hanging sulkily over his belly. “All right,” he whuffs, put out. “If you gotta.”

“That’s the thing,” Obi says, smile too tight. “I really, really do.”

It’s easy to keep her head when it’s all just...logistics. Shikito still has to arrive from Wistal, and Obi has a handful of leads he can chase all from the leisure of his desk. Permissions to seek as well, not the least from Makiri, who won’t be happy to see one of his most experienced guards snatched out from under him right before inspections. The more she doesn’t think about dates or times, the further it seems, like that lunch she keeps promising Izuru or Suzu’s thesis defense.

But when he leaves her in that hall by herself, begging off to go send off a few notes before dinner, it’s--

It’s real. Too real. And much, much too close.

There’s a fluttering by the window, a golden shape taking form on the sill, and all it has to say is, “Shirayuki,” and--

And that’s enough. Her eyes blur, and with a single step she buries her face into Od Ana’s breast.

“I’m not crying,” she tells her, because she can’t be if feathers catch the tears before they ever fall. “It will all be fine. I know it will be.”

“Of course,” Od Ana agrees, beak nuzzling at her hair. “It can’t be anything else.”

And oh, how nice that would be, if only either of them believed it.

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #creatures of a brief season #daemon au #ans #AS PROMISED Od Ana being The Most Annoyed with her human #i'd been wanted to take this all the way up to when he jumps off the wall #but alas it was not to be #at first i wasn't sure if i wanted to put Shirayuki POv in what was supposed to be Od Ana's fic #but it just made more sense #logistics-wise #since Od Ana is just being huffy outside the window right now #like okay great you tell her you're leaving #cuz i ain't helpin'

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