#I guess maybe I glimpsed my psyche or Something
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gaminegay · 4 months ago
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I had the strangest reaction to I Saw The TV Glow
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themultifanshipper · 2 months ago
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Do you think you could do something like this
https://www.tumblr.com/themultifanshipper/759431110157631488/quiet-innocent-reader-x-lando-like-lando-finds
Maybe with Oscar ( love your writing)
If Oscar had to describe your sex life in one word : Vanilla.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that! God knows how much the two of you enjoyed the sex you had. You weren’t very experienced when you met Oscar, and you were quite a shy person.
Which is why Oscar was so shocked when he found what appeared to be a list of your kinks just sitting there when he got up to make his morning coffee.
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Fun fact, this request was sent over a month ago, and i only have a couple more to do before i can get to my own stuff lmao
Warnings: innocent reader, Smut, PinV sex, rough sex, dirty talk, mention of lots of kinks n stuff
Part 2
He hadn’t meant to get a glimpse into the inner workings of your sexual psyche, but really, who leaves something like that on the kitchen counter???
As he read it over and over again, his cock twitched in interest and got progressively harder until he put it down, the words seared onto his brain forever.
He tried to have a cold shower but just ended up jerking off furiously to completion imagining doing all the things from your list.
But as soon as he got out of the shower and dried off, he realized he was still achingly hard. He decided to put on a pair of his loosest joggers and go about his day while he waited for you to come back from work.
It wasn’t easy, but he managed to answer a whole two emails, internally debating the moral implications of communicating with his bosses while sporting an erection.
Then he jerked off again.
It did take the edge off for a bit, but every time he thought about it during the day he couldn’t help but fist his cock at the thought of all your filthy fantasies.
When you got home, you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, and you did your usual routine: shower, skincare, dinner with a glass of wine, followed by watching something with Oscar, the two of you huddled up together on the couch.
That’s when you started noticing Oscar’s behaviour.
It was very subtle, but you could tell he wasn’t at all focused on the movie, periodically fidgeting around uncharacteristically. Oscar was usually very settled, and tonight it was like he couldn’t keep still for more than 30 seconds. You also noticed his breathing was irregular, often getting shallower as he fidgeted.
Oscar couldn’t care less about what was happening on the screen, his brain was focused on the same thing it had been all day, that damn list.
And he’d been hard all day, which certainly didn’t help his internal crisis.
“Oscar” you sighed, pausing the movie “Talk to me, tell me what’s going on with you tonight”
“Nothing’s wrong, why would there be something wrong?” his mouth said, but his flushed cheeks were proof that he was hiding something.
If looks could kill, the one you gave him would have certainly done the trick.
“I… full honesty?” he asked quietly.
You nodded “Full honesty”
He closed his eyes and sighed. “Okay, but you can’t get mad at me”
You narrowed your eyes at him “That’s not a promise I can make, but I’ll do my best”
He bit his lip before taking your hands in his.
“I uh… I found your list”
You just stared at him. “What list?”
“This one…” he took the piece of paper out of his pocket where it had been burning a metaphorical hole in his hip ever since he’d found it.
He handed it to you, but you didn’t need to unfold it to know what it was. I was a bright pink piece of paper that had been ripped out of your diary the night before.
You completely froze, panic overtaking you.
“Oh my god. Oscar…” You couldn’t look him in the eyes as you tried to explain “you weren’t meant to find that I’m so sorry! I was going to throw it away this morning and I guess I put it down and completely forgot about it. Fuck- please don’t think I’m weird or whatever and just forget about it, okay? Please?”
You put your head in your hands and whined in distress. This couldn’t be happening. Your loving boyfriend had just learned about your depraved fantasies, and he was never going to see you the same way again.
“I can’t forget about it baby, I spent the entire day jerking off about it”
You head snapped up to finally look into his eyes, your jaw hanging in disbelief. You could tell he was dead serious and your gaze slowly trailed downwards towards his pants, where you could tell he was hard, then back up to his face to find him biting his lip so hard it was turning white.
“you-  what?”
“Sweetheart, I got so hard when I read it, I almost got in my car to come and get you from work. I want to do every thing on that list with you” he leaned closer to you and whispered “Every. Single. Thing.”
His arm wrapped around you and pulled you closer to him, lips coming to brush against your neck. “especially number 3…”
You glanced at the list, seeing what he was referring to and gasped.
“Oscar!”
He chuckled into the crook of your neck.
“Who knew you were so dirty, hmm? Where have you been hiding all this time?”
“I- I didn’t know how to ask” you stuttered as he nipped at the skin of your shoulder.
“That right? Well ask me now, then” he said and you frowned in confusion.
“What?”
“Ask me. Go down the list, and ask me to do those things to you…”
His lips trailed down your body and his hands pushed you to lay down on the sofa as you spluttered in confusion. “I don’t- what?”
“What’s the first thing on the list?” he asked, he knew of course, but he needed to hear you say it.
You blushed, checking the list.
“Choking…”
“Then ask me to choke you”
You shuddered as his mouth continued downwards and his hands spread your legs, one of them pushing your flimsy pyjama shorts to the side to expose you to him.
“Oscar what-“
“I want to see how wet you get just from saying it, go on then.” He ordered and you keened as a finger dipped through your barely moist folds.
“I want you… to uhm” your blush deepened and Oscar smiled at you condescendingly.
“Go on baby, you can do it”
You gulped.
“I want you to choke me” you squeezed your eyes shut at the admission, but Oscar was having none of it.
“Now fucking look at me and ask me again”
You gasped and your eyes flew open to look at him.
“I want you to choke me!”
“Good girl” he stroked your thigh “Next thing?”
You glanced at the list still clutched tightly in you hands.
“Spanking.”
Oscar cocked his head to the side. “What about spanking?”
Your jaw clenched, the fucker knew how to get what he wanted.
“I want you to spank me”
He smiled and nodded for you to continue.
“I want you to fuck me over the balcony for everyone to see” you said, and Oscar’s pupils dilated as he used his fingers to spread you open for him.
“Yeah? Want everyone to see how fucking filthy you actually are?” You whined as his thumb came to dip inside you briefly before rubbing it in slow circles over your clit.
“I want you to degrade and praise me…”
He felt like he was barely holding on to his sanity at this point.
“That’s so hot, fuck.” He palmed himself through his sweats “You want to be my good girl yeah? Want to be my good little slut? Only thing you’re good for anyway…”
You whimpered, his words making your whole body heat up, and took a deep breath before continuing.
“I want you to fuck my mouth”
He had to grip himself through his pants to ground himself, your words having an enormous effect on his composure.
Where had his sweet little innocent girlfriend gone?
“I’ll fuck your mouth baby, make you fucking drool for it, god you’d look so pretty taking me down your throat”
You were definitely wet now, and he took the liberty of sliding a finger inside you and hooking it upwards just to watch you squirm as he rubbed that special spot inside you.
“I want you to tie me up and force me to take it” you said breathlessly.
The noise he let out at that was animalistic as his wide eyes found yours and his jaw went slack as he pulled his pants down just enough to get a hand around himself.
“You have no idea how hot you’d look all tied up and helpless under me baby, it’s making me so hard just thinking about it..”
You moaned as he added a second finger inside you.
“I want, fuck- I want you to use me, and fill me up with your cum whenever you want”
“Shit.” He hissed “Fuck baby, I’m going to fill you up so good, you'll see…”
“Please”
You hadn’t realised how close you were getting, but Oscar’s expert fingers were making you delirious as you continued.
“I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk, want to cry from how good you feel inside me, wanna beg for your cock”
Oscar growled and pulled his fingers out.
“Then beg”
He settled over you, putting his weight on you, his dick resting against your folds as he panted into your mouth.
“Beg for my cock, slut”
You were so fucking turned on. Dominant Oscar was something new, but so, so incredibly hot you would have done absolutely anything to have him inside you at that moment.
“Please, please Osc, I need it. I need your cock so bad, please!”
He growled and slid in to the hilt without warning, making you moan into the heated kiss he was currently giving you to distract you. He was thick and the stretch was delicious as his cock dragged along your walls, making you see stars.
He started a deep, hard pace and his hips slapped against yours, obscene sounds filling the room.
“Fuck baby, so fucking wet for me. This what you wanted all along? For me to fucking ruin you on my cock?”
“Yes, Oscar, fuck!”
He chuckled darkly.
“That’s a good girl, so fucking tight, You’re getting close aren’t you? I can sweet your sweet pussy clenching around me, trying to keep me inside...”
He gripped your hips harder and angled his thrusts upwards, nailing your g-spot, and you were a goner. White spots danced in your vision as the pleasure overcame you, cunt spasming around Oscar.
“Perfect, perfect cunt. And it’s all fucking mine” he growled as he finally spilled inside you, filling you to the brim and forcing a pathetic whimper out of you at the new feeling.
Oscar had never come inside you before, and it was insanely hot. The feeling of your slick, hot walls pulsing around him was pure heaven and he couldn’t wait to test everything on that list.
After you’d regained your breath, you chuckled silently to yourself while stroking Oscar's back.
If this is what you got for leaving your list out, maybe you should tell Oscar about your box of toys in the in the back of your closet…
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anteroom-of-death · 4 months ago
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When We Meet Again, part 1
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Synopsis: A new teacher at Roundview has to deal with her first Parent's Night. She meets a man that has quite the large amount of baggage and gossip around him.
a/n: a fic! From me?? Nah son. Thats crazy. Multi-chapter love for this man coming tho. Slowly. One day. Love you alllllllll.
Parent’s Night, the bane of any teacher’s existence. Truly a hell on Earth, between those parents that thought your job was just to babysit and those that were willfully ignorant about their children’s behavior in school, you couldn’t take it.
At least those were miles better than the ones that took their children’s academic prowess as a mark of their own success.
The student who’s father was coming in now, the mother eloped with some German man, was named Sid. Your heart went out to him. Really. His home life was in shambles. Said father was recently in hospital for something about his heart.
Local gossip mills and the teacher’s lounge still shattered with the grips of poor Sid’s tragic, dramatic home life.
You’d be a bit more supportive if it was only that; his home life.
Sid seemed to be intent on dragging everyone else in the school with him, however. Hopeless, truly.
What a time to get into teaching!
The man wobbled in, he wasn’t unattractive. The mother was insane for running off. You marked the whole explosive thing as probably personality-based. That’s why people cheated in mostly. Personality and boredom. Usually, appearances had seldom to do with cheating. Super models got cheated on all the time…
Maybe he inherited his father’s personality?
You suddenly didn’t fault the mother.
His eyes seemed perpetually wet as he sat down across from you. They were lovely. Not quite blue, not quite green, grey and gold flecks throughout, rimmed with an exhausted red line. The sudden locked contact of them shot through your core. Framed with lush, arched brows and pretty little lashes…
“My wee boy, how’s he been?” The man; Mark, according to your records asked. It was earnest. “I’ve been trying my best to get his grades up.” He swallowed as you caught a glimpse of the scar from surgery under his wrinkled, wrongly-buttoned shirt.
You swallowed back. He seemed gravely concerned, with genuine love for Sid bubbling forward. The way he asked seemed so gut-wrenchingly genuine and paternal concern that broached towards reverent.
Definitely not inherited personality faults from him, you walked back your previous guess.
“Not good, his grades continue to slip. He keeps moping about some girl named Cassie. I keep telling the school councilor to get involved. He seems unreachable.” You went for brutal honesty. A man who was briefly declared dead would appreciate that, right?
He let a few choice words. It felt well-suited. Duly earned.
You felt for him truly…
Leaning forward, you laid out a sympathetic hand on the man…
“He’s nearly catatonic. It might not be a matter of skills.” You reasoned. “He has gone a through a lot…maybe try to get him in for a psych eval?” You tried to give seasoned advice and speak from what little experience you had.
He sighed.
“Just tell me what to do.” Mark resigned himself into a self-conscious slouch. “He has to do better in life than me or even his grandfather did.” He seemed content to all but hover above the surface of the desk.
Definitely not personality-based cheating, you thought as you rolled back your previous observation. Unless this was a new personality based on his health scare and Sid driving him to his limit.
Oh well, so much for gossip-based psychology!
You put a caring, cautious hand on his shoulder. (Bony, yet firm you remarked.) He was close to breaking into tears. It wasn’t fair.
“He’s already got a good support system in you and what the school administration can provide. Get him the mental health care he needs. It may not be a perfect fix, but it’ll help.” You felt yourself rubbing soothing circles into this near-perfect stranger’s upper back.
His back felt almost muscular. Thin, oddly spaced out. But firm. Just like his shoulders.
It wasn’t all that bad to touch.
Something overtook you as you produced a post-it and wrote your number down. It was a bad, possibly sideways move. Definitely not in the teacher’s handbook.
You shook yourself. You just didn’t want to see this man fall into disarray further because of his son. The boy was this close to falling through the cracks completely. People usually inherited their mental health struggles from their parents…
Nothing else. Clearly not a sudden desire to see this man again.
“Why don’t we meet up outside for a coffee and we can discuss this somewhere cheerier?” You slid it forward. “Ring me on there and we’ll chat, hopefully somewhere with outdoor seating.” You laughed a small laugh as of to diffuse the situation and show your metaphorical belly.
“Aye. That’ll do.” He took the post-it and slid it into his jeans pocket.
“I know you cannae waste all your time on me. You’ve got parents queuing up for miles.” He said as he got up and shuffled clumsily to the door.
You went back to your notes about said meeting as some other kid’s parents trotted in.
You couldn’t wait for your coffee date.
Or whatever it was.
Definitely not a date!
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444m777 · 5 months ago
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I received Dancing The Dream in the mail today and I’m halfway through reading it… man, I feel so privileged to be reading his thoughts and poetries like this. I remember only knowing about his biography book Moonwalk but they rarely mention Dancing The Dream. I wonder why? It was published the year I was born so it feels like a little gift😌
I love his thoughts on spirituality and magic. I wish we could’ve learned more from him on his thoughts on numerology and astrology as well (two of my favorite subjects). Like, why hasn’t anyone interviewed him about stuff like this? Or am I not looking hard enough🤔 He was very particular about symbology and (deeper) meanings in his art but he also applied it to himself for personal development and you only catch a glimpse of that here and there in books/interviews/his writings but then the focus goes right back to “who are you sleeping with?” or “how do you write a song?” Mind you, I’m satisfied with the answer he gave on the latter (and the former lol 🤪 I don’t need to know his business like that haha). I just find it strange how people constantly wanted him to say more. It wasn’t enough. Like, the man said it came from God, (his) children being his muses, magic, wonder etc. NEXT QUESTION! Gosh! Can we ask some deep thought provoking questions instead? I mean no one bothered to ask WHY he felt it came from them. They just wanted something more tangible or something they could “sell”. I guess you can’t really sell God and spirituality when the artist in question had ‘secular’ music and grabbed his crotch lmao. But the press/people wanted “secular” answers but put some respect on my man’s name and LET IT GO as he did when he talked about his formula for writing songs.
Yes, I know he was very religious growing up but in Shmuley’s book Michael revealed he always questioned the church, religion in general… and he was just a very deep spiritual person from the jump, adopting (spiritual) teachings and using his own inner knowing to create a spiritually rich life (especially after having left Jehovah’s Witness church much against his wishes as he truly enjoyed connecting with and to a higher power—in community with others as the church fostered fellowship in a time where it was hard(er) to make friends and have genuine relationships of any kind). So, I feel we can’t use the “excuse” of him being Jehovah’s Witness when he wasn’t anymore for a very long time and considered himself to be more spiritual. I feel he would’ve been more open to talking about astrology etc. regardless if he read up on it or practiced it (astrology isn’t something you believe in… it’s more of a tool/language. I giggle when people say they don’t believe in it—which is fine btw but it’s not really a belief system but I digress…). He was a great conversationalist so I know he’d have some interesting thoughts to share. Who knows… more and more people are speaking out because of the biopic coming out next year. Maybe we’ll hear something in regards to that😊
I’ve looked into his natal, numerology and human design chart and it’s really fascinating. I truly feel I learn something new about him every time. In a way it feels like little Easter eggs😋 left behind for me (and others) because I’m passionate about personal development, human psyche, spirituality (and woo-woo) stuff too. There’s a reason for my blog name it has to do with numerology and his usage of the numbers 777 in his art/clothing. I’ll make another post about it with more detail soon.
Hugs and Heehees💫
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littlebosleepmusings · 2 years ago
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Didn’t Mean To (one-shot) / N. Romanoff x Reader
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Warnings: none
Summary: It’s been a while, but you’ve finally found her again.
♪ banks – bedroom wall ♪
“Well one thing’s for certain, I am impressed.”
You stop washing your hands at the bathroom sink, and become almost paralyzed at the familiar, husky voice coming from behind.
The night is young and you were hiding out in a pretty bathroom, with dim lighting and luxurious sinks. It sure does set the mood. You thought you could find a spot where no one else would be. To gather your thoughts and to gather your nerve. You should have known she would find you.
At first, you thought it possible she wouldn’t even remember you. That or she just wouldn’t care…but she’s purposefully sought you out, at such an extravagant party. It gives you a small amount of hope.
You look up in the mirror, to see the redhead against the archway of the restroom. She crosses her arms casually as she leans against it, keeping her distance.
So this is what the real her looks like. Different shades of red, from her hair, to her lips, to the blush on her cheeks. In an elegantly cut, form fitting white dress. Clearly not one to disappear in a crowd.
The Natasha Romanoff.
You only watch her through the mirror at first, but it’s enough to set your pulse racing.
“Finding me and gaining access to this party, can’t have been easy,” she continues.
She’s giving you a compliment, but when you don’t respond immediately, you can see a bit of dejection on her face as she glances away for the moment. It’s something you don’t expect, so you try and lighten the mood.
“Shouldn’t have told me your real name,” you quip back. It’s an old instinct, but the lighthearted banter always made her smile.
Natasha looks up at you now, a more lively gaze in her eyes.
“I’m sure you would have found it out soon enough,” she responds with a smirk. You don’t whether she means to compliment you again or allude to her newfound fame. Then, her face changes. “You shouldn’t have come here.”
A part of you wants to scream. How can she be so dismissive, yet you can still remember what her touch felt like? Her perfume. The way she looked when she moaned your name in the dark. Now, she keeps her distance. You would think none of it had happened at all.
“I know,” you admit, turning around and leaning back against the sink. To face her on fully for the first time in months. You told yourself similar on the ride over.
“Well, you got my attention so let’s hear it.” Natasha crosses her arms, waiting for your declaration. Shit, you’ve come all this way. You might as well.
“I know what I’m doing is risky and insanely idiotic of me,” you start. “…but I have to know. I feel like you at least owe me this.”
She doesn’t miss a beat. “What do you want to know?”
Her question is so direct and to the point, you start second guessing whether to even ask it or not. Afraid you may not like her answer. Perhaps just this one time, not knowing is better than the truth.
“Y/N…”
“Was any of it real?” you eventually choke out, because somehow losing her attention, is worse than looking pathetic in front of her.
Natasha sighs. “That is a complicated question, Y/N.” Her words are slow, but deliberate. Seeing her behave this cold and aloof, is messing with your psyche more than you thought it would.
“Not to me,” you shake your head.
She steps closer, possibly in an effort to placate you. Maybe she senses your displeasure, at her reluctance to answer. Then she stops.
“Well none of it was real,” she replies matter-of-factly. “But also all of it was.”
You let out a small chuckle. “Leave it up to you to make a simple answer, so confusing.”
“I didn’t think it was that confusing,” the woman shrugs.
“No, of course you wouldn’t.” You can’t help but to let out a small chuckle.
“Hey, don’t patronize me,” she gives you a small, bashful, smile, and for a moment, you see a glimpse of the woman you use to know. Your chest aches when you remember that she isn’t even real. The woman in front of you now is a trained spy. It’s hard to forget how quickly she was able to shut it off, when it was time to go your separate ways. how fast she changed from loving girlfriend, to cold, methodical agent.
You then become cold yourself. “You were so good at making me think you actually cared.”
“It was the job.”
Someone enters the bathroom, and you glance behind her at all the guests enjoying the party. Some Avengers, but mostly other wealthy and accomplished people.
“This was probably a waste of time.” You start forward, so you can brush past her, out the door, but Nat’s voice stops you.
“At least stay for the party. You’re already here.”
You pause. She didn’t give you the answer you had hope for, but at least she wasn’t telling you to leave.
“I hear the appetizers here are pretty great.”
***
As the night drones on, you try your best to enjoy yourself. You mingle somewhat and introduce yourself to new faces.
Natasha’s eyes never fall on you once, and if they do, it’s as if she doesn’t even see you at all. Still, you find yourself unable to look away. Without even trying, she pulls you in. It’s probably the same for a lot of others and you hate yourself for falling victim to it.
Eventually, you find your way to a seat at the bar. You order your favourite drink and plan on nursing it until you’ve had enough of watching your ex act like you don’t exist. That’s when the man you know to be Steve Rogers, approaches the bar. Thor isn’t too far behind him. They both give you polite smiles in greeting, but turn their focus to the bar.
“What can I get you, sir?” the bartender asks.
“Nat wants another drink. No beer this time.” Steve seems conflicted as he turns to Thor. “Not sure what to get. Think she’s a whisky gal?”
You let out a small chuckle at the question, which catches Steve’s attention.
“You’re better off avoiding the hard stuff,” you answer for him. “For someone so tough, she really likes her fruity, mixed drinks.”
“Something sweet I guess.” Steve nods toward the bartender. He then turns to you. “You know Natasha?” he asks.
You don’t get to respond. It’s her voice that you hear from behind you.
“She’s a friend from another life.” Suddenly, Natasha has appeared beside you, resting her arm on the bar ledge.
You’re the only one seated, and still she plants herself beside you, like it’s nothing. Clearly, being that close isn’t hard for her, like it is for you.
“Another Widow?” Steve questions.
You vaguely know what he’s referring to. The other Black Widows.
“Thankfully, no. Not as long as she keeps her distance.”
You stiffen at her words. She’s talking through you, yet she still seems to be aware of it.
“Kidding,” she muses softly, but you aren’t in the mood for jokes.
“Lovely to make your acquaintance,” Thor offers you his hand to shake, and a charismatic grin.
“Likewise,” you smile back, but you can’t bring yourself to be truly warm, with the proximity between
The four of you all go quiet. Thor doesn’t seem to notice, but Steve can clearly sense the tension
“Your drink, Miss Romanoff.” The bartender hands her the drink and you decide it’s the perfect time to take your leave.
God, you need to get away. You aren’t as good as she is at pretending. So, you head towards a balcony you see up ahead, wanting to be alone again.
“Hey, I didn’t catch your name.”
You turn to see Steve Rogers standing there behind you.
“Oh, everyone calls me Y/N, and don’t worry. I know who you are.”
“Of course,” he laughs, clearly embarrassed by his celebrity.
“She lied about us being old friends by the way. I was one of her marks. Targets, whatever.” You don’t care about keeping it a secret anymore.
You watch as his face takes on a look of panic.
“You don’t need to worry about me,” you assure him. “I’m not here to cause trouble. I was just curious.”
“About what exactly?” Steve inquires. He’s beside you now, so you turn to face him fully.
“About the real Natasha I guess.” You shrug. You wanted to know what she was like without the facade.
Steve pauses for a good moment. “What makes you think you never met her?”
You say nothing as, he continues. “Nat is a lot of things, but she’s never sentimental…”
“Yeah…” you agree.
“….with people she doesn’t care for,” He finishes.
“So you’re saying what?”
Steve sighs. “I honestly don’t know what I’m saying. Just that I don’t think you’d still be here if she didn’t want you to be.”
“She invited me to stay, but I think she just feels guilty,” you shrug.
“Well, I think if she really wanted you gone, you would be.”
“Wish I could say that means much. Maybe I’m just so insignificant, that she’s beyond caring what I do.”
“I’ll admit it’s possible,” Steve offers.
“No need to worry. I can take a hint, Captain,” you nod. “I won’t be here much longer.”
***
When Steve finds Natasha, she’s chatting it up with Tony. He lets them finish their conversation first, before he saunters over to her. Once Tony is completely out of earshot, Steve turns to Nat again.
“You messed up, didn’t you?”
“Can you be more specific, Rogers?” Nat turns to him. “You’re starting to sound like me.”
“You weren’t supposed to get attached, but you did.”
“Ah…” Nat smiles in realization.
“Why is she still here?” Steve questions.
“If only I knew.”
“Oh bullshit. I think you do know, you just won’t admit it.”
“Why are you trying to analyze me?”
“And why are you so stubborn?” Steve retorts.
Natasha stands firm with her arms crossed, staring up at her friend. Is she being stubborn or is she just being safe. Vancouver was a job to her. At least, that’s what she kept reminding herself, and although she was able to keep it business as usual, as she said her goodbyes. Didn’t look back once, like she had done plenty of times before. Except this time, she fell for someone. For you. She didn’t mean to. It was more of an unintended consequence/side effect.
“Fine. Keep pretending to not know what I’m talking about,” Steve concedes.“Your girl’s on her way out. I think she’s had enough.”
Nat follows Steve’s eye line, to catch the streak of hair, headed toward the elevator.
“Have you said all you needed to say?” He asks. “Cuz I’d say there’s a good chance she won’t turn up again. Not here or anywhere.”
Steve’s words hit her suddenly, like a fist to the gut. Sure, finding you again if she wanted to would be child’s play, but the thought of you being completely done with her for good, leaves a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Natasha doesn’t stick around to offer him a rebuttal. She takes off quickly, toward the next available elevator.
***
do i have to write it on your bedroom wall, you fool?
Enough time has passed since your bar encounter with Nat, and she’s since left you alone. Your small talk with Steve almost made you a little optimistic, but her actions gave you reason not to be. It all feels like a lost cause. She’s indifferent toward you. You think about staying, but what’s the point? You know better than to force yourself where you aren’t wanted. You head toward the ground level and towards the coat check, to pick up your things.
“Leaving so soon?”
You glance to your left to watch Nat slowly approach the counter, beside you.
“Don’t look so surprised,” you sigh. “But yeah. I guess I’ve run out of reasons to stick around.”
“Let me at least see you off to your ride,” Nat offers.
Why does she insist on torturing you in
In front of you, the attendant places your things on the counter. He gives you a polite nod off, as you turn back to your ex with reluctance. “I’m going to have to pass, Natasha. I just think we should end this here.”
Her green eyes flash the briefest For the first time tonight, she looks truly wounded by your words.
“Well, alright. If you insist.” Natasha reaches for your bag for you. Instead of just handing it to you, she places your purse over your shoulder herself. Fingers brushing your bare arm and a part of you thinks, she knows exactly the effect she has on you.
“You’re a cruel woman, do you know that?” you say, with a bitter laugh. You’re teasing, but not entirely.
“That hurts a lot, coming from you.”
“But it is warranted, wouldn’t you say?”
Her mouth quirks into a slight grin. She’s still lightly touching you as she speaks. “And here I was thinking you liked me.”
“Gosh, you’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“You’re trying to flirt with me.”
“Would that be such a bad thing?” Nat laughs, and you find yourself feeling even more confused than before.
“Not if it doesn’t mean anything,” you reply as you pull your arm back. “I don’t need false hope. You don’t get to pretend like you didn’t break my heart.”
She finally eases up and releases your bag. “You’re right. I’ll stop.”
“Wait, I don’t -” You hesitate, unsure of what you want to be honest.
“I wasn’t trying to give you false hope,” she affirms. There’s an earnestness to her face, that tells you she could be telling the truth. Her green eyes
“Then what are you doing?” you ask.
Nat gestures for you to walk with her. She’s silent for what feel like an eternity. Strangers pass by, as the two of you walk side by side in the direction of tower exits.
“Y/N, my life isn’t simple. You know that I can never have what they do.” She gestures to the small cluster of people behind her. Laughing, mingling and getting close to one another. “You should live your life, instead of dwelling on what could have been.”
“What could have been,” you repeat. For some reason, those words echo louder than the rest.
“Is there some unwritten rule that says you have to be forever alone?”
“No it’s just easier that way.”
“Easier….” turn back. “I’m not going to be presumptuous by thinking that I was ever a real option… but whoever you meet. Try not to blow it. You deserve to be happy.” You pause. “We all do. It’s okay to take a break from following orders and choose yourself for once.”
There’s a fondness in Nat’s eyes when she looks across at you. “You always were pretty good at setting me straight…and to be honest, if I had to choose anyone right now…someone to wake up to, go home to, I think I’d choose you.”
You think she’s just humouring you. Why? You aren’t sure, since it was her decision to move on.
“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better, you know. I can handle rejection.”
“Are you serious?” Nat scoffs. “So we’re still doing that, huh? I speak and you keep not believing a word a say.”
“Well I’ve learned from experience not to.”
“You still don’t get it, do you?” Natasha shakes her head. “You want the truth, Y/N? I didn’t need to fake anything with you. Ever… but at the end of the day, you were just my target. I had to let it go. Let you go. You were never suppose to come looking for me. No one usually does,” she adds.
“Well I did,” you respond back, a slight crack in your voice.
“Yeah, I know,” Natasha sighs quietly. “And this was so much easier when you stayed away.”
“What was?”
Nat falters, before she suddenly reaches out toward you, pulling you into a passionate kiss. For someone her size, she’s pretty forceful. Then you remember exactly who you’re dealing with and can’t help but smile beneath her mouth. Your cheeks warm from excitement. A wave of nostalgia washes over you. Her touch feels like happier times. It reminds you of nights when she used to fall asleep beside you. The way she used to cross her arms and furrow her brow when she can’t quite get a recipe right
When you separate, you’re excited and absolutely terrified at the same time.
“What happens now?”
“I really don’t know. never done this for real before,” Natasha reminds you.
“Is that what we’re doing?” you question. “Trying this for real?”
“I don’t -” She stops herself. “Yes,” she says instead, with assurance. “I want to try being happy and normal, for once in my life. I want that with you.”
She reaches a hand out, to grab a delicate hold of yours. “That is, if you’ll have me, of course,” Nat finishes.
Realizing what she’s just asked you, a soft, playful smile forms across your lips. “Well, I came all this way, haven’t I? Might as well.”
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sunspray-peak · 2 years ago
Text
Ch. 12: The Flower Festival Pt. 2
“Why do you back in?” 
Haley’s arm was wrapped around his head rest, her tongue poking out from between her teeth as she concentrated on reversing into the space. Just as she had predicted earlier, the lot was now filled to the brim, cars packed haphazardly like the most busted tin of sardines. 
“I nearly ran over a child six years ago in a parking lot trying to back out and it scarred me for life. I’ve backed into spaces every since.” She switched off the ignition. “Now let’s go.” 
“You see, I don’t know if I believe that.” 
“Okay, and? What’s your belief to my truth?” 
*****
They hurried straight back to Cindersap Forest (Achilles had clipped off the tags and changed in the store). Even before they had entered the woods, however, Achilles could hear the sounds of the string quartet amidst the lively chatter of the attendees. 
It was significantly more crowded than the Egg Festival had been; only Haley’s grip on his wrist prevented him from being carried away in the sea of neutral-toned individuals working the dance floor. 
“We should get some.” She nodded at the bright pops of flower crowns and boutonnieres decorating the heads and collars passerbys and pulled him away from the crowd over to a quieter corner where Pierre was selling fresh accessories from a wooden booth. “Tsk, all the good ones will be gone by now…” 
“Do the colors of the flowers mean anything for the purposes of this festival? Or the species?” Achilles nodded at the lively little bouquets whilst stubbornly ignoring Pierre’s overexubernt, used car salesman-esque handwaving and chatter.  
“I mean yes, I guess, but also not really… like, nobody over the age of like 32 cares… Pierre, I’d like that flower crown—no, the one next to it, yes, that one—and… how about that yellow boutonniere, the goldenrod one, for our young man, here.” She turned to him. “Yellow good with you?” 
“Oh, so I don’t get a flower crown? Yes, yellow is fine. Ah, I’ve got it…” He reached for his wallet as Pierre handed the flowers to Haley. “We’ll say it’s thanks for supposedly saving my reputation—and the town’s reputation, or whatever the hell Lewis was saying earlier…” 
Pierre took his change, grinning a bit too widely and eagerly, as if he were in on the joke. 
As Achilles shoved his wallet (also brown, he couldn’t help but notice) back in his pants, Haley pinned the tiny bouquet to his collar. “There you go.” 
And right in time, another song was beginning to start. Achilles glanced at Haley, offering his left hand. “Well… fancy a dance?” 
Haley looked at him, her eyes wide and even bluer now, framed beneath her purple flower crown. She giggled, her left hand politely covering her mouth as she used her right to grasp and raise his hand between their chests. 
“Oh, Achilles… Ew. No. Absolutely not.” 
Achilles, rooted to the ground in simultaneous shock and indignation, could only stare open-mouthed as she swiftly flounced away. 
“Okay, what the fu—”
*****
The severe psychological damage Haley had inflicted upon his psyche was now preventing him from trailing after his various acquaintances and asking them to dance.
Like a pathetic creep of a man. 
But he had caught a glimpse of Alex, shortly after Haley had rejected him, and Yoba—just the half-second sight of him had inspired an ache to ask the man to dance so strong that it nearly overcame his injured ego. Nearly. 
For Haley’s blow had been two fold, as Alex was already on his third dance with none other than the perpetrator of said psychological damage (not that Achilles was counting, thank you very much). And looking unbearably… handsome? Hot? Well, unbearably something, fuck—the cut of his loose-fitting button down just modest enough to be (as Lewis would likely say) community-appropriate, but low enough to leave one or two other dancers (or maybe it was just Achilles) sneaking a brief stare. Alex had left the gel behind today, or perhaps was merely using it more strategically, for how else could his hair be framing his face so effortlessly?
And even from across the clearing, Achilles could tell that those emerald suspenders must’ve matched Alex’s eyes perfectly. He felt himself grow hotter in his already warm clothes and forced himself to turn away from the picture perfect pair.  
And thus, as the hour mark rolled by, he found himself standing next to Dr. Harvey, the two of them sharing a small platter of finger sandwiches. 
“You’ve been doing all those renovations on the farm, make sure you don’t overwork yourself! I’ll be honest, I’ve been worried about you, ever since that little snafu in the mines.” 
Achilles grimaced. “Don’t you worry, I don’t think I’ll be overworking myself anytime soon. The farm’s pretty much done now.” There was that chill again, at those words… pretty much done… 
Eager to change topics, Achilles nodded politely at Robin and Demetrius who were passing them on their way to the dance floor. “You’re not dancing with anyone, doc?” 
“Ah, no. Well, actually…” 
Achilles shot him an expectant look over the rim of his elderflower soda.
“Well, I suppose… I’m working up the courage to ask someone to dance with me, if you must know.” The words tumbled out rather quickly. Harvey rubbed his mustache with his sandwich-free hand. 
“Oh, really? Who?” 
A flush quickly crept over the doctor as he spluttered into his cucumber sandwich, but lucky for him, Elliott had come unknowingly to the rescue. 
Oh Elliott… 
Achilles hadn’t spoken to the man since that first evening on the bridge—not anything much outside of a “hello there,” that is. But he had seen him—in fact, there came a point where Achilles almost felt like he was being followed. At every turn, those few hours in the day he left the work on his farm either for a jog or for Pierre’s or for the saloon, it seemed like Elliott would be waiting, lurking just around the corner ready to say hello. 
Well, not lurking—for there wasn’t anything nefarious about the man, but despite his rather loquacious introduction, Elliott never seemed to be able to fully comfortably engage with Achilles’ attempts at further polite conversation. Any words exchanged were stilted and awkward on the man’s part, mostly just flustered faces and minimal eye contact, and Achilles had soon found himself avoiding the beach on his jogs. 
But here he was, likely tipsy on the elderflower wine he held in his hand, waltzing over, wearing a rather loud (and ugly, in Achilles’ opinion) burgundy cravat. The wannabe writer (Sebastian’s words, not Achilles’) gave the pair a single, deep, slightly off-balanced bow, which only Harvey somewhat halfheartedly returned. 
“Greetings, my friend! A dance can really liven one’s spirit, wouldn’t you say, doctor?” 
Harvey’s eyes grew wide as Elliott’s large hand wrapped around his bony shoulders. “Oh, um, yes. Yes, that sounds correct to me.” 
“And where is Shane? Shall us old bachelors have a round while the youth,” he dramatically toasted those dancing in the designated clearing, “continue to celebrate the flora of the Spring with their merriment and movement?” 
“I’m 27, man,” Achilles said somewhat ruefully. 
“Ah!” Elliott turned and jumped, as if just noticing Achilles’ presence. He turned red and took a small stumble back. “Achilles! Just a turn of phrase, I’m sure you understand, my friend, please forgive me. Now uh… where is Shane?” 
Together, they turned to search for the oldest bachelor among them, but Shane, who had heard his name called, had quickly dipped behind a large oak barrel, out of sight. 
Now stuck between Harvey and Elliott, it was Achilles who needed to be rescued as the former, heavily encouraged by the latter, began to drone on about the payoff between the physiological benefits of dancing vs. severe spring allergies. Once Harvey began dissecting the different species of Cindersap grass, Achilles was prepared to excuse himself entirely and ask a stranger to dance if he had to, when good old Maru tapped him on the shoulder. 
“Looked like you needed a save,” she whispered as they made their way to the clearing. 
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that…” Achilles grasped her waist and almost at the exact same time, made eye contact with a glowering Demetrius who was dancing just a few feet in front of them. He managed a polite (and hopefully not overly-challenging) smile in return before turning back to his chuckling dance partner. 
“You’ve got a great poker face, I’ll admit. But I work with Harvey, I know what you’re really feeling.” 
They spun smoothly with the music, a stilted little song that the older folks seemed to love. But Achilles, usually a decent enough ballroom dancer after having been required to take classes throughout grade school, nearly dropped Maru when he caught another sight of Alex (now dancing with a visiting girl he didn’t recognize). But Maru merely laughed good-naturedly over his copious apologies. 
Yoba, what was wrong with him? This was embarrassing, acting like a boy at a middle school dance… It’s not like he’d never seen an attractive man before… 
After Maru came Abigail, and after Abigail was Leah (yet another Stardew Valley redhead whom he had only chatted with occasionally), and after Leah came nobody so Achilles decided he’d sit this song out and grab another soda. 
“Why aren’t you dancing?” Lewis hissed right as he popped the tab. 
“Now, Lewis, I was just—”
“Get back out there, be a good example.” 
Achilles glared daggers at Lewis’ retreating back and instead took a seat on a flower-wreathed bench next to Alex’s grandparents. “Evelyn, George, hope you’re both doing well,” he said with a nod.
George didn’t respond. In fact, he may have been asleep, it was hard to tell with the dark shades he had on. But Evelyn beamed and took his hand in hers. “Oh, yes! I love this festival—you know, I was working on the flower arrangements for the dining tables for a week!” 
Achilles glanced over to the blush tablecloths. “That’s one of my favorite things about the Valley, I think. All the flowers—seriously, you may laugh, but I haven’t seen flowers like these in years. The arrangements are beautiful. ” 
“Oh, that’s very kind of you to say, dear.” Her eyes crinkled as she watched the dancers twirling in the midst of the song. “George and I had our third date at the Flower Festival, you know. We danced all afternoon…” She giggled at the memory and grasped her husband’s hand. George woke with a start. 
“Oh, that’s very sweet…” 
Together, they watched the couples move about the green. 
Now that he was sitting down with no dance steps to monopolize his concentration, he found his eyes drifting once more to Alex, who had returned to dancing with Haley. 
Following his gaze, Evelyn took his hand again, giving it a soft pat. “She really is such a beautiful girl, and she’s been such a good friend to Alex for so long. I know he won’t mind if you step in for the next song.” 
“Ahhh…” Achilles’ stomach tightened, but he forced both a smile and a light tone as he replied, “I don’t think Haley wants to dance with me.” 
“Oh, nonsense! A handsome boy like yourself.” Evelyn began to wave down the glamorous pair, her left hand now grasping his wrist with a surprising amount of strength. Was everyone in this town born with higher than average grip strength? 
“Why not let Achilles here have a dance, dears?” Evelyn asked once the song had ended and Haley and Alex had obediently made their way over. 
“Hey, by all means, please—”
“Oh, of course—”
The two shot each other quizzical looks. 
Alex bit his lip. “Um… jinx?” 
“Alex, dear, why don’t you take a break.” Evelyn patted the seat next to her as she not-so-subtly motioned for Achilles to stand. 
“Sure, no problem. Oh hey, look at us matching. Gotta love the yellow, am I right?” Alex pointed at the boutonniere Haley had pinned to Achilles’ chest earlier. Alex too had a sprig of goldenrod, secured next to his green suspenders.
At the sight, a flutter began in Achilles’ rapidly sinking stomach—but it quickly died as he caught sight of a prancing blur of similar yellow green that turned out to be Lewis. Gross. 
Alex took the seat Achilles had just vacated, and said in a low voice, “Hey, now, Haley’s very particular, so you better have your steps down pat.” 
“You would be particular too if you were wearing white shoes,” Haley sniffed as she led Achilles back to the clearing where they stood, palms together, waiting for the next song to start. “Hmm. Mighty persistent, aren’t you, Achilles?” 
“Listen, for the record, I didn’t ask Evelyn to put you up to this.” 
“Oh, don’t worry, I didn’t think you did.” 
The violin started, and the couples began to turn. 
“Why have you only been dancing with women?” 
The question came so suddenly, and wasn’t at all what he had been expecting as conversation fodder at the Flower Festival, that he stumbled. Nevertheless, it took him only half a beat to recover. 
“Well it’s all platonic, right? I don’t particularly want to dance with a stranger if I don’t have to, and I suppose I’m more familiar with the woman in this valley than the men.” 
He eyed the rest of the crowd before continuing, in a slightly lower tone. Despite their rather rocky lack-of-a-relationship, something inside of him, perhaps his gut, felt that Haley could nevertheless be trusted on matters such as these. 
“I suppose part of me is also a bit… wary. Where I come from—the city that is, I don’t know why I said it like that—they always say ‘you never know’ about small country towns like this. And to be honest, I’ve been keeping a bit of an eye out and everything I’ve seen today has been rather… heteronormative.” 
The two both glanced around the couples surrounding them on the floor. There were fewer than there had been before, it seemed to have been winding down, but from what they could see, all were men and women paired. Except Sam and Sebastian, who seemed to be doing a unique take on the chicken dance in the corner together. 
“Hmm. Maybe…” Haley had responded in a similar low tone. 
“It’s not as bad as you might think, though… like, for a ‘small country town.’ Like, no one’s going to give you a dirty look—well, actually, maybe George, but even he won’t get aggressive to your face. Well, maybe passive aggressive—”
“A lot of ‘wells’ there—” 
“And what have you got to fear from everyone anyway? It’s not like you’re in the closet, and I assume everyone here already knows—”
“Oh, I see, did Lewis share that I was gay in that letter he sent everyone before my arrival, too—” 
“—and you’re moving out in a week, if George does decide to hurl insults at you…” 
Achilles chewed on his lip. Fuck, there it was again. Moving out in a week to who knows where… 
“Hmm, yeah, I suppose…” 
“Your dating prospects in the Valley are slim, anyway, though. That’s the actual problem with these small towns… If you want to meet someone, you have to, like, go somewhere. It’s a huge pain in the ass, let me tell you.” 
“You don’t have something going on with Alex?” 
Haley shot him a bewildered look. “Achilles. I’m a lesbian.” 
At her reveal, he fumbled his step, but Haley caught him before he went down. “What?” 
“Women can be gay, Achilles.”
“Okay, no, I know that, thanks. Oh.” Achilles averted eye contact as he tripped yet again. “Oh!” 
“We’re just friends. No, your arrival brought the grand old homosexual population of Stardew Valley to two.” She stuck up her fingers, a peace sign she held close to his face. “What a shame it’ll be when you leave,” she added with a fake sigh.
“So… nobody else in this town is gay?” 
Again with the sad, knowing look in her eye. How incredibly irksome, he didn’t need anyone’s pity…
She shook her head wistfully. 
“Well, Sebastian and Abigail both are bi—which, according to George, just means they’re confused, like, bleh, am I right, someone needs to put that man in a Zuzu Care Facility—don’t tell Alex I said that. But like, gay—nobody else that I know of.” At that moment, Leah, dancing with Elliott, twirled past them. Haley’s eyes watched them, deep in thought. “Well, like, nobody else is out, from what I know. I mean, I guess I’ve, like, got my suspicions… but it’s rude to assume someone’s sexuality for them, isn’t it? Better to let them come out themselves…” 
Achilles followed her gaze to Elliott and Leah, still dancing closely, when two thoughts struck him, one of which he voiced. 
“Now wait a minute, I haven’t seen you dancing with any women. You’ve been with Alex half this time. Coming in here interrogating me about my choices.” Achilles clicked his tongue as he spun her. 
“Oh yes, but Alex and I are a special case,” she sniffed. “And as you said, it’s all platonic, what does it matter? Anyway, just because you didn’t see something doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. You’ve just been… watching the wrong people.” She flashed a small, mischievous smile. “Now go away and don’t talk to me.” 
At these words, the song finally came to an end. She curtsied, he bowed, and, to his slight dismay, the string quartet stood to bow as well. It had been the last song. 
Mayor Lewis—whom Achilles now had a better look at, and who indeed had changed into something more “festival appropriate” but still somehow equally yellow, green, and ugly—took to the stage. 
“Welcome everyone again to Stardew Valley’s Flower Festival! Whether this is your first time or your 32nd—Carl, I see you—it is always our honor to host our esteemed visitors from all across Zuzu and beyond. For those few who don’t know me, I’m Lewis, the mayor of this ol’ town. 
“As you all know, our Flower King and Queen are chosen by a panel of judges based upon a very specific set of criteria. They must each demonstrate commitment to their community, confidence, character… they are, in short, shining role models for all of us here, from Sunspray Peak to Zuzu City. 
“This year, I am delighted to announce that our Flower King is… our newest villager, Achilles Robinson.”
“Hey, what the fuck?” Achilles had to rapidly exchange his furrowed brow and frown for a beaming smile—the one he used to use at the end of pitch meetings back in the day—as someone pushed him towards the stage. 
“Achilles has only been in Stardew for one season, and already he has proven himself committed to the Valley, donating his resources and time into improving the community, whether by fixing the mine carts or bringing homegrown produce back to the land. Strawberry Farms is a beautiful sight—utterly transformed, if you have a moment to stop by, and done entirely by Achilles himself. A round of applause for Achilles!” 
Poker face, poker face… man, he hadn’t even planted his strawberry seeds. And ‘by himself?’ That was Shane erasure. A rotten feeling began to unfold in his gut, but he would never visibly reveal his discomfort before a crowd.   
Instead, he gave a wave. 
“And our Flower Queen is… none other than Haley Garison! 
“Haley started her own business last Summer, and has already proven to be quite the rising star in the photography community, with clients such as Westfield and Light Magazine. You may have even seen her photographs of our very own Stardew Valley, which have been featured in multiple travel magazines and brochures. Great job, Haley!” 
“I thought you said you only did portraits,” Achilles muttered out of the side of his mouth as Haley joined him on the stage, but if she heard him, she pretended not to. Like him, she had fixed a slightly plasticine smile onto her face. 
They both knelt as Jas and Vincent lay large wreaths of flowers upon their heads and handed them even larger bouquets of multicolored, pastel roses. 
“Let’s give another round of applause for our Flower King and Queen!” 
This was undeserved attention. Achilles had half a mind to punt Lewis and his lies off the stage. 
The crowning seemed to mark the end of festivities, however, and as soon as Lewis had set down the microphone, visitors and villagers alike began to filter out of the forest, some pausing to congratulate the pair on their win. 
“Aye, I noticed the mine carts got fixed the other day, didn’t realize it was you!” Abigail shot him a thumbs up before standing on her tip-toes to pat the flowers on his head. “Good stuff, my dude.” 
Lewis dragged Haley and him to the flower arch he had seen her arranging earlier that morning for photographs. 
“Look happier, will you?” Lewis’ mustache was bristling as he looked around to make sure no one could hear his complaints. “This is supposed to be an honor!” 
“Lewis, there is not a single home grown vegetable on my farm,” Achilles said through gritted teeth as the photographer brought Haley slightly more forward. 
“You could say I was… speaking it into existence. What do you kids call it—I was manifesting! Just trying to give you an idea.” 
Achilles abandoned all pretenses of smiling and looked squarely at Lewis. “I’m moving.” 
Five hundred portraits later, Haley and Achilles were finally allowed to join the last of the throng heading out of Cindersap. 
“I can photograph your farm if you’d like.” Haley glanced at him, a softer gaze than he had previously received from her. “I really do do portraits though, like, I promise I wasn’t lying. I just took some photos of the town because Lewis asked…” 
“Yeah.” Achilles nodded. That was one more thing off the bare bones To-Do List then… “That’d be great, I’ll let you know.” 
She gave him a small smile and left to find Emily. 
“Hey, hey, hey.”
Alex had shimmied over, thumbs tucked beneath his suspenders. Achilles, who had been ruminating over his undeserved win, had to shake himself from the distractingly low neckline he had coincidentally (or not) been staring at during his little zone out.
“Congratulations Mr. Flower King. Please, tell the crowd—how does it feel?”
Achilles allowed himself to roll his eyes in good humor, leaning into Alex’s outstretched fist as if it were a microphone as they took the less popular northern route out of Cindersap.
“Well folks, I’ve got to say, I’m really honored to have been chosen. You know, as Lewis shared, I’ve lived here one season aaand… I haven’t done shit for the community. In fact, I hate it here so much, I’m moving.” Anxious as the words made him feel, he allowed himself a smile as Alex let out a bark of a laugh. “Man, I think Lewis just wants something from me.” 
“Oh, Lewis 100% wants something from you. But he wants something from everybody—usually money—so you’re not special. But hey, that just makes your win all the more meaningful then, doesn’t it? You know it really came from the heart.” Alex gave a short bow, somberly touching a hand to his chest, and Achilles was seized with the sudden desire to do the same, to run his hand beneath where someone—some girl, most likely—had pinned that twin sprig of goldenrod to his collar…
He shook his head to clear the image, and the flower crown on his head fell slightly askew, the white and yellow buds covering his right eye. Then, he took a deep, steadying breath as he geared up to confess a truth Alex already knew. 
“I fixed the mine carts for myself, not for Stardew, Shane’s done half the work with the farm, and I haven’t planted a single edible thing since arriving. I’m a fraud.” 
Without missing a beat, Alex clapped him on the back.“Nah, you’re not the fraud, Lewis is! But hey, we all knew that.” He winked and bumped Achilles with his shoulder. “You didn’t ask him to say that stuff. Hey, just let yourself enjoy it, man. I’ll catch you around, okay? Oh, and your crown’s crooked, by the way.” 
If Achilles thought—or hoped—Alex would reach over to adjust it, he was sorely disappointed. Instead, the boy simply wished him another “Congratulations, your floweriness,” before turning right to head back into Pelican Town. 
And so Achilles took the last bit of remaining road back to the farm alone. He placed the flower crown and goldenrod on his desk where he figured the rich morning sun would dry them out. It had been a nice day, all things considered; he wouldn’t mind keeping some souvenirs to remember it by… 
He had four more days left in the Valley. In four days, he’d be handing the keys to his realtor and saying goodbye to grandpa’s farm. Goodbye to all the villagers, to the junimos, to his mysterious, invisible watcher… goodbye to all the worms he brought into the world with his overzealous shoveling.
Then it was on to the next… adventure?
Whatever the hell that was going to be. 
Fuck.
He tried to push the thought out of his head—his hands were itching, and he forced himself to do jumping jacks in an attempt to plug the onslaught of anxiety he knew would befall him if he allowed his mind to remain too idle for even a minute. 
The hour before falling asleep was always the worst. He’d never slept well—always too much going on in his head, could never find a moment’s peace. The tasks of the Sacred To-Do List and Sacred Timeline of the past spring had been successful both in tiring him out and giving his brain something more organized to chew on, but tonight, Achilles knew he’d need the sleeping pills.
For how long, though? How long would it take him to find something new? 
1 note · View note
magpie-to-the-morning · 2 years ago
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Hi Emma! For the prompt game: Flowers + Jack + fluff? 💖 (psst you're amazing and I'm gonna love whatever you decide to do with this!)
Jen I had so much fun with this one. I hope you like the cowboy AU I went with. Thank you for betaing when I was so psyched to share this, @acrossthesestars 😘
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It started as a game.
Every time the Statesman rode into your dusty, lawless town (a frequent enough occurrence, between hunting various bandits, thieves, and other assorted rogues), Jack sought you out. Ever since that first time he’d caught a glimpse of you leaning out a window of the saloon, your hair half done and your tattered silks slipping from your shoulders, paint on your face and a dream in your eyes, he'd had eyes only for you.
He’d met you in the bar, tipped his hat and called you ma’am before asking for the pleasure of your company for an evening. He was different from the others who sought you out. Well-mannered. Even tempered. Clean, other than the dirt of a hard journey on his heels - and he’d always taken his boots off before carrying you to your own bed.
And oh, the things the two of you did in that bed.
It wasn’t long before he was asking you to come away with him.
Come on sweetheart, what do you say?
Trying to take me away from all this, cowboy?
And if I were?
Ask me again next time.
He did. He showed up again months later, his suit finer and his horse sleeker. The rogue business was booming, he said later that night, his breath warm on your neck, his fingers gentle against your curves.
Come with me, darlin’. If only so I can get some damn peace. How’s a man supposed to sleep or work or, hell, think when he’s this lovesick?
You were no stranger to flattery, or the silver-tongued promises of a man wanting something. Oh it sounded good now, with the moonlight spilling over your sheets and those clever lips making you see stars, but where would you be when his passion waned?
Right back where you were when you fetched up in this dust pit to begin with.
Still, there couldn’t be any harm in seeing him again, and his sweet words reminded you of the old tales your mama had lulled you to sleep with - of knights and maidens and happy endings.
Tell you what, cowboy. You guess my favorite flower and I’ll come away with you.
The grin he’d given you then was sweet enough to coax gold from a miser’s fist.
Every time he came to you from then on, he had flowers in his hands, mostly of the wildflower variety: purple coneflowers and Black-Eyed Susans, asters and hyssop. Once he brought you an orchid, a tender, fey thing he must have nursed for weary miles to place into your waiting hands.
He never guessed your favorite. Every time you smiled, shook your head gently, and placed them in a green glass jar beside your bed while Jack did his best to draw hints from your sweetly parted lips.
Your flowers - are they the color of your eyes? Do they grow alone? Is their nectar as honeyed as your taste on my fingers? Next time, sweetheart, next time I’ll bring the right ones.
You started to worry he’d tire of the game. Oh, he always paid well, a tidy stack of silver coins on windowsill in the morning, their clinking mocking you as you scooped them up.
Promises and flowers are all well enough, they seemed to whisper, but you can only rely on us.
Months slipped past. Seasons. Scorched grass summer turned to rusty red autumn. There was ice on the windowpanes and frost on your breath by the time Jack returned. Your heart leapt, though you knew it was too cold for flowers.
He’ll have to come again at least once more, you thought, your heart as quick as your steps as you raced toward him through the crowded bar.
He caught you with a grin, his coat smelling of snow and far off woods. Or maybe that was just the greenery in his hand.
Jack had brought you fir branches instead, their wild sap rising in the amber shadows of your room as the two of you made up for lost time.
Later, when the fire burned to glowing embers, Jack cleared his throat - nervous for the first time since you’d met.
“I know it ain’t quite what I promised and in the ordinary course of things I’m not one to go back on my word but, well, maybe this will be the right one after all.”
You sat up, puzzled, the quilt falling from your bare shoulder. Jack tugged it back into place before leaning to reach for his saddlebags. He placed a box in your hands, one about the size of a loaf and just as light, all wrapped in brown paper and tied with red and white string. His dark gaze never strayed as you bent to open it, his expression somewhere between apprehension and hope as you lifted out the finest cup and saucer you’d ever laid eyes on. Near paper thin and bone white, other than a delicate ring of flowers around the rim.
Your favorite flowers.
It wasn’t smoke that blurred your vision then. Afraid you’d drop the dainty thing, you set it down on the scrubbed pine table beside your bed, the cup rattling in the saucer with a chime.
Jack’s face fell.
“Oh, darlin’, don’t you like it? I was sure I guessed right this time but - “
You stopped his mouth with a teary kiss. “It’s beautiful. And those are my favorite. But now you’ve guessed and you won’t need to come back - and besides, it’s too nice for a place like this, what if something happens to it?” You’re rambling, your mind shying like a spooked horse at the thought of losing this. Of losing him.
The last thing you expected was for Jack to laugh, but laugh he does until tears are streaming from his eyes. “What a pair of fools,” he chuckles. Before you can even open your mouth to protest he quiets and takes your hands.
“Sweetheart, I have a whole set of those dishes waiting back home. They’re yours - if you’ll do me the honor of marrying me. That’s what this has all been about. Or did you think I wasn’t a man of my word?”
He pouts prettier than any girl in the cathouse, and you tell him as much through your own relieved tears and a laughing kiss.
“Jack Daniels, if you thought I would have trusted my future to any old sweet-talking lawman blazing in and out of town like a comet, then you really would be a fool. But oh, if you are then I am one too, and it wouldn’t do to break up a set.”
By the time the embers draw up their blanket of ash, the two of you are wrapped up in each other once more, your bodies nestled together like spoons in drawer while you drift off planning a future together.
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jiminrings · 4 years ago
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I REQUEST A SOFT BADBOY DRABBLE WITH SHY READER AND HES TEASING HER BUT SOMEONE ELSE JOIMS IN AND THEYRE DOING IT TO BE MEAN BUT HES LIKE STFU BEFORE I PUMCH UR FACE ONLY IM ALLOWED TO BULLY SHY READER GRR 😡😡😡😡 and soft readers like 0.o but *squeals incoherently* 😭😭😭😭
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last name, jeon.
drabble week: day two
drabble week masterlist
pairing: badboy!jungkook x shy!reader
wordcount: 3k
glimpse: "can't you tell that i really don't want you to be here?"
notes: a tiny change on the plot!! also: frat boy!jimin from day four makes an appearance :D
feedback + support mean the world to me!!
“do you wanna form-“
... yes
you DO have an alliance with jungkook
it's a very fair trade honestly
he pretends to be your boyfriend!! there's no specific boundaries to it, but he springs into action as soon as you're put into an inconvenience
in exchange, you whore him out to your friends!!! :D
no but literally that's how he called it
the whole reason this came to be in the first place is because you hATE confrontation with a burning passion
especially when it comes to those "i have a crush on you" moments that people spring on you all of a sudden
you don't like them back!!! that's the truth!!! but the problem is that you aLWAYS feel guilty letting people down
you obviously don't have the obligation to like someone back just because you sit next to them in class :// IT'S JUST IN YOUR NATURE TO FEEL THAT WAY
you wouldn't get into a relationship with said confessor to ease your guilt, clearly
do you plan on denying their advances? yes
but hOW????
you always take the passive-aggressive approach
you get jungkook to carry your bag and hold your hand, walk in front of said person and pretend not to see them, jungkook makes sURE to put some snide eye contact in there aaaaand the whole ordeal is finished :D
you've managed to let someone down slowly without having to speak to them in-person!!!
jungkook comes more handy than that too
you take him when you want to eat out because you're too anxious to eat alone
you take him when you want to go somewhere in which lining up is essential and you're also too anxious to stand by yourself
you take him when you want to go shopping when there's a sale but you're almost always intimidated by the barrage of people and salespeople so he asks and answers the questions for you
jungkook, in hindsight, is the perfect fake boyfriend for you <3
ALSO jungkook wants something from you
"whore me out to the girls from the families your family's friends with, and it's a deal :D"
that alliance and exchange is going pretty well so far
you mAY be on the more-reserved side but that doesn't mean you're self-aware!!!
you know that your parents are loaded and your shy nature could be somehow chalked to that since you didn't really have anyone that wasn't as non-superficial as you'd like, since they were the overprotective helicopter two-rotor seven-blade parents :(((
jungkook, however, is the only constant you have in your formula
you've known him since childhood and have been friends ever since
his mom's your mom's personal assistant, and one day when mrs. jeon couldn't find a babysitter for jungkook, your mom didn't hesitate to let four-year old jungkook come with her to work
jungkook's your fIRST actual friend that hates gold spoons with you because of how tacky they look :-) he's your emotional support person basically
your emotional support person who was sO close to running late from picking you up during his free day >:( you were about to break into a sprint if he arrived a second later, because you managed to spot a jock coming to you from the corner of your eye awhile ago
You Do Not Like Him <3
"and i even changed into a short-sleeved shirt to ward off your suitors. how romantic of me, don't you think?"
now that he mentions it, it's only now when you can drink him in in full-display
... wow
his right arm's the only one with his tattoos while his left's completely blank, but something about the balance just makes you !!!!!!!! even more
his arm's not completely covered but it was coming to be, something about the blank spaces of skin that are yet to be inked being a nice touch
"very romantic, kook."
now tHAT'S the answer he wanted to hear
he forcibly on your helmet for you to showcase, your grunts of annoyance being drowned out by whistling
(he's even looking left and right and making eye contact with anyone who has their eyes landing on you!!!!)
your cheeks smushed is a look he'll never be tired being in awe of, but he'll never tell you that, of course
"do you ever wonder if your parents would kill me if i misplace even a single hair on you?" jungkook thinks out loud and you don't even flinch with how sudden his thoughts could be, sitting on his seat first so it'd already be balanced when you do, "you sure you’re okay riding with me?? on a motorcycle????"
he usually uses yOUR family's vehicles (they let him and insisted he just takes one at this point) but when you called him, he was en route to kim kradle (it's a one-stop vehicle shop apparently) to get new rims for his motorcycle, bUT NOT ANYMORE HE GUESSES????
you come first compared to the booking he's waited on for three weeks
"i have insurance, i think."
no that's the wrong answer
why did you even bother.,,.,
jungkook flicks your nose because your forehead's protected by the helmet, his face contorted in half faux frustration
"you were supposed to be mad at me for asking that — not logical!! don't even joke about that."
"... my life insurance? like, in the instance that i-"
oW THAT HURT
he flicked even harder this time!!!
you roll your eyes at him and it doesn't go unnoticed, a hand outstretching instead of his fingers flexing
“wallet, please.”
????
jungkook's surprised that you even look confused, this time rolling his eyes at you
“you rolled your eyes at me. you need to bribe me so i won’t rat you out.”
right
he has a never-ending knack for the you're rich jokes
you also know that he likes the cold and would turn the fan on even if it's too hot for a blanket, just because he wants to feel cocooned
you also know that he picks from the fourth row of drinks from the front because it's always been a habit
("the germs cling on to the first row!!!")
you also know that maybe, just maybe, you can't stand it tonight when he's putting himself out there instead of being your faux boyfriend
you keep on zoning out and hoseok, perhaps the only tolerable fellow rich kid you can tolerate within your circle, finally connects the dots in his head and snickers
he's been talking about finding the vintage sneakers he's always wanted on depop and how he almost got scammed for like tWENTY minutes already
in reality, all your nods and scowls aren't towards his story
it's to jungkook and... who's that? jihye whose dad is so colossally shitty, that this one rapper wrote a diss song for him? oh yeah, that jihye
"you like him. like actually 'lose your virginity to him' love him."
WHAT???
there's no way
"how did you-"
"you blush like one."
alright that answer was too quick
hoseok should've ATLEAST tried to wait for a few seconds before answering
"a-and the love part?"
"babe, jungkook may not be the richest one here and that should say a lot," you peer up at him nervously and he actually chuckles, peering to everyone at this function, "dude's humble — he could also just be dense to not see you love him."
okay very true
hobi's making a dig rn at how jungkook coinicidentaally happens to be blonde and maybe this is your cue to leave
hobi does not realize that his hair is aLSO dyed blonde while talking shit about jungkook and his hari
okay this is it
once again, you are NOT listening to hoseok and he's figured out what you're doing by now
you're psyching yourself up with a couple of shots and your heels are digging on the carpeted ballroom
MAYBE YOU SHOULD TRY TO BE MORE OUTGOING!!
"pretend to wobble. it doesn't help that nothing can sink you."
oh okay makes sense
if you're gonna try and charm jungkook while trying to play it off as just being tipsy playfulness, atleast make it believable
hoseok snickers because this is just A+ content with the things that you choose to do in your way
shy girl with high alcohol tolerance mannn coming of age film writers would LOVE you ://
you're about to cross the distance between you and jungkook, but something knocks you on your shoulder with a gentle force that seemed intentional
is that-
hold on a second
"what a coincidence :O"
jimin?
jimin???
as in, wholesome yet slightly fuckboy-ish frat guy jimin???
he looks dashing and composed, meeting your eyes perfectly and he doesn't let your confusion startle him
"i know that look. what am i doing here?"
he says it eloquently as if he's practiced it
AND HE DID!!!
you must've looked so shocked that you immediately apologized, shaking your head no
"i-i didn’t mean-..."
you're confused, sure, but that doesn't mean you're immediately judging
it's just that you never saw jimin here or any function of the like, but you wouldn't put it past him if he does go to these things!!! he looks like a million dollars anyways
"relax, doll. you’re so far the only other person i know that i've seen in these type of things."
he looks calm and collected, but maybe that's just because he spent the last five minutes waiting for you to stand so he could bump into you
this place is just sO suffocating and a familiar face is gonna be his relief from something so fancy that it became mundane
"have we been in the same event before this?"
"not that i recall, no. i get invited but this is only the first time after awhile that i went."
jimin drinks from his champagne flute, wiggling his eyebrows playfully, "wanna know why i'm here?"
you're curious!!! what can you say!!!!
you never really interacted with jimin at all before this, but a familiar face like his is comforting
because hoseok's already engaged in another conversation and jungkook's,,,, being jungkook and is fawning all over jihye
jimin chuckles at your insistent nodding, leaning closer to whisper to your ear
"my stepdad’s loaded as fuck."
oh so that's why
he tugs you down to sit at the nearest possible empty chairs, all its occupants gone anyways because they're in the dancefloor busting tRULY horrendous moves
maybe it's because jimin feels lonely too like you are, and it's him feeling comfortable because he's pulled you like ten seconds ago and not once asked him anything out of bounds
maybe that's why he fell into conversation with you easily because you're always intently listening
"might love me as a real son too. maybe that’s a bonus? you don’t really expect that shit in the things you see."
this situation is actually pretty cute
you snort because maybe you’re nOT that shy when you drink,, that’s the only thing that changes in you probably
this whole conversation that sprung from boredom was unknowingly the subject of many stares, including jungkook who you were initially supposed to go to
“you’re worthy of love, jimin.”
:O
jimin sPITS his drink because where the fuck did THAT come from???
why did you say that and why does he feel that he needed to hear that
“i-i think — i think you need more,” he raises his own glass to your lips hurriedly, caught in surprise but you still gulp nonetheless
“you’re-“ you keep sputtering as he keeps making you drink, but he rubs circles on your back at the same time and it's when you realize that jimin the frat guy may not be that bad, “what??? don’t think you’re not the only one with daddy issues! shouldn’t we have like, a radar for each other?”
jimin snorts at your counter and his eyes crinkle to the point where he can't see anything, not being able to see how you're still trying to recover with all that fizz down your throat
wow ur really enjoyable to talk to
“you’re insane and i think-“
listen
you're not really big on feeling beyond a sense and all that stuff, but you feel as if the aura around you just got dark all of a sudden
"who are you calling insane?"
jungkook appears at your side in an instant, hands wrapped around your shoulders while you remain seated
you've honestly forgotten that you were supposed to go to jungkook, but you're reminded of that vERY clearly now
"go away, jimin," he mutters through his teeth, looking at him dead in the eye
hold on
wait
THAT'S JIMIN???
okay now he's confused
sometimes jungkook's mouth just moves on its own without loading the thought process
"why are YOU here?"
jimin furrows his brows, shocked that he'd even see jungkook here out of all people
the guy barely even attends classes!!! and that's coming from him!!
"why’s he here?"
he crouches to your ear, eyes still furrowed at the younger guy
"long story."
nO???
jungkook scowls bitterly because jesus fuck
YOU’RE ON WHISPERING TERMS NOW????
he left for one second, and the moment he comes back, that's when this fucking frat guy approaches you?? was he waiting on him to leave??
you and jungkook only act as a couple when the need arises, and even if you don't feel it, hE feels that this is the need!!! this is the need and it is arising!!!
"get back to uh, alpha bravo charlie or something, park. beat it."
why’s he reciting the nato phonetic alphabet???
jungkook sounds half-angry and half-sad at the same time, and you don't know which side should you focus on
“move,” he repeats this time again but more sternly, making jimin much more confused since jungkook's trying to pull him away from his seat
jimin doesn't budge and it makes the frown even more evident in jungkook's face
what is he FEELING
“can’t you tell that i really don’t want you to be here?”
“i’m not here for you, though. i’m here for y/n.”
he answers honestly, shis gut telling him that there's definitely something going on between the two of you
“y/n doesn’t want you here," kook argues back surely, only noticing your bitten lips now that makes him realize that you're not exactly sober; just a happy kind of rush
he sees you raise your hand timidly, an equally cheeky smile on your face that's only directed to jungkook like it's meant for him
"i-i actually don’t mind."
you don't,,,
you don't mind?
HOW'S THAT POSSIBLE
WHAT ARE YOU DOING
why aren't you signaling him to commence the faux boyfriend act!!
"y/n has a boyfriend."
“... i’m not hitting on her.”
alright this is more than the entertainment that jimin wished for lol
“yeah, well she has a boyfriend still so beat it.”
you do??
the last time you checked, jihye's gonna have jungkook as her boyfriend within the night!!
“i don-“
ALRIGHT THEN
jimin decides to indulge jungkook, knocking his knee with yours as he winks slyly, urging you silently to watch on, turning to look at you and ask
“what’s your boyfriend’s name?”
you don't answer.
that gives him all the more reason to do so.
“last name, jeon.”
jungkook looks the most determined you've ever seen him, eyes characteristically angry with his arms across his chest that his suit tightens, “first name, me.”
....
......
the three of you know that’s not the truth
jimin takes it in, sighing when he sense that something else is about to be unfold and he does noT want to be a part of it
not before whispering to your ear again for the last time, of course
“pretty weird name if you ask me,” you laugh automatically, momentarily forgetting that jungkook's standing by you on just your opposite side and could hear you
he leaves and that only leaves you with jungkook, looking up at him as he's too frantic to even sit
“what are you doing?”
“being a social butterfly," you quip just as fast, drinking your water afterwards
jungkook only clenches his jaw by then, being taken-aback when you speak again
“who are you doing?”
://
“i’m busy being mad at- wait a minute, WHO???”
who instead of what??
the short-lived enthusiasm you had with jimin left with him, crashing just as hard when you're reminded of jungkook's presence
“jihye’s a pretty nice girl. you should go home early tonight.”
his brows furrow, trying to get you to look at him but you avoid his gaze insistently, “what? what are you talking about?”
“she’s not my girlfriend though.”
you're not at all satisfied with the answer because it sounds so wrong, knowing that jungkook's a handsome guy and everyone wants to be with him!!!
and he probably wants to be with everyone else besides you.
“then who-...”
“don’t know yourself anymore? jimin must’ve really swept you off your feet, huh?”
jungkook huffs as he qualifies for a rebutt, your internal wallowing being cut short
“he’s not my boyfriend.”
...
....
“well would you look at that,” jungkook snickers, sighing through his nose as your eyes finally meet his, directly stubborn yet soft around the edges
“she’s not my girlfriend, and he’s not your boyfriend. what a coincidence.”
god did he feel so threatened the moment his eyes couldn't find you besides hobi and instead next to jimin, eyes crinkled in laughter without hesitation
have you been chasing after one another this whole time?
jungkook silently grabs you by the hand and you wave no opposition to it
maybe it's your liquor-influenced vision or maybe it's you hyperfixating on such a warm moment, but your eyes immediately lock to see the matching red thread bracelet he wore like yours
you're dressed in next year's spring collection line, and the structured silk black gown that has a train behind it doesn't exactly scream to have a simple red thread bracelet as its accessory according to your mom's designer and everyone else —
but you don't have the heart to take it off
there's no need to take it off
jungkook drives your car and no one says a single thing about anything
his hand’s on your thigh and you don’t question it, eyes locking into the way his hand looks perfect and the way the bracelet looks meant to be wrapped in his wrist in the first place
you're sure this time that it's not the newfound courage you have, but rather the need to do it
you kiss jungkook's cheek on a red light.
it's on a red light that jungkook realizes he could fit the visage of his world within one hand, finally kissing you like he's always wanted to
“yeah. what a coincidence.”
622 notes · View notes
beyondspaceandstars · 4 years ago
Text
While You Sleep
Chapter 6
Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: mainly fluffy, brief mentions of violence Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.
(a/n: this was probably the most fun chapter for me to write so far it just came out so cute and sweet i think!! also super sorry all my energy has been focused on this fic i haven’t written many other one shots or anything i just really am getting into this story!)
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
When you woke up the next day, something new was in the air. Everything felt lighter, a bit more relaxed. You actually felt refreshed for what seemed like the first time in your life. As dramatic as it sounds, it was unreal. 
You sat up in bed, taking in the morning without the dread. Sure, prior to your dream last night there were bits of chaos still lurking. You couldn’t ignore it and it certainly was not going to go away overnight but everything had shifted, and you could at least appreciate what lulled you to sleep. 
You sighed, almost looking off into a daydream like a lovestruck school girl. You had seen Bucky in such a normal fashion just sitting in his bed reading. You didn’t know when exactly the memory had been from but that didn’t matter. It was something without violence, it was a real look at him. He was so content as he focused on the book...
But you didn’t have the time to sit around pondering about your soulmate’s hobbies forever. You still had a life to get on with. 
Despite your body’s reluctance, you lugged yourself out of bed and started getting your work uniform together. There was a bit of pep in your step, a complete contrast to just a few weeks ago when you were pulling yourself around holding on to the last bit of will you had. It was insane what one meeting with a soulmate could do. Maybe you now understood everyone’s fuss over it.
You redid your hair and touched up your makeup before packing your bag for the day. Once your sneakers were on and you felt actually good (the most glorious feeling, you thought), you headed out your apartment door. 
As you were making your way down the stairs, you noticed someone was waiting by the building’s entrance. You rarely ever saw people around the space so the figure stunned you a bit. As you walked closer, though, you recognized that shoulder-length brown hair.
“Bucky?” You said, surprised, as you opened the lobby door. He turned around, greeting you with a warm smile.
“Good morning.” He spoke so casually as if he always stood outside your apartment waiting for you.
“Everything okay?” You asked, suddenly worried his presence here wasn’t as cheery as he was leading on.
Bucky nodded. “Yeah, I just came to walk you to work if that’s okay.”
Your jaw dropped slightly. “Walk me to work? W-Why?”
Bucky shifted his stance slightly as if suddenly embarrassed. “Because I think that’s something that, uh… that…”
“Soulmates,” you said, finishing his sentence. Bucky looked relieved at that. “That’s something soulmates do?”
He chuckled at the little smirk you were giving him. Your heart felt so full at the thought of Bucky wanting to walk you to work, make sure you got there safe and everything. Maybe even check out the area where you spent most of your days. 
“You can say no, of course.”
You shook your head. “I’m flattered you want to walk me.”
At your acceptance, Bucky extended his elbow for you to take. You giggled as your hand wrapped around his arm and you two began on the route. You were too giddy to look back up at Bucky, even though you could feel him sneaking glances at you, so you turned your attention to his arm. Surprisingly, it was the metal one he had offered to you. While most of it was covered by the sweater he wore, his hand was still peaking out of the sleeve. You stared down at it, curiously, watching the light bounce off the material and listening to the little groans it made as his fingers moved every now and then. 
“It’s not going to hurt you,” Bucky said suddenly, making you jump. You quickly pulled your gaze away, opting instead to look up at him. Your heart sank at the tinge of worry behind his eyes. 
You shook your head as your cheeks warmed in embarrassment. “I didn’t think it would,” you confessed, honestly. “I just think it’s interesting.”
He hummed, unsure. “Interesting?”
A sudden uneasiness fell over you as you found yourself maybe crossing lines now. Sure, you had seen here and there in the nightmares what the arm had done, but you also could see that wasn’t what it was doing right now. Right now it wasn’t a weapon, a danger. It was a guide for you, physically bringing you a tad bit closer to your soulmate. 
“Well, yeah,” you shrugged. You had to choose your words carefully, you thought. “I don’t have to tell you this but it’s unlike anything else out there. It’s powerful. Seems very strong, as well. Probably… Probably has seen a lot but you extended it towards me showing you’re at least a little comfortable with it,” A pause. “I-I don’t think it defines you if that’s what you’re worried about, despite how it’s -- how you -- have been weaponized.”
Bucky didn’t respond at first, making your heart plummet. Had you actually burnt this entire thing down in less than twenty-four hours? You two fell into silent steps as you continued your path to work.
As you rounded a corner, just when you were about to spontaneously tell him it was okay if he never wanted to see you again, Bucky finally spoke up.
“Have you seen the things I’ve done?”
“I’ve read some articles-,”
“That’s not what I meant.”
You brought yourself to a stop on the sidewalk. Bucky halted beside you and shook off your grip. You frowned at the action but didn’t acknowledge it any further. 
“I don’t think it matters what I’ve seen,” you said, a bit of confidence finally mustered up in your tone. It was true, too. Over the past few hours, you hadn’t seen anything from the nightmares that aligned with the actual Bucky in front of you. “We can discuss this another time but I promise you, Bucky, I’m only focusing on what I see right now. Right now I see a man who voluntarily woke up at a ridiculous hour just so he could surprise me and walk me to work. It’s incredible.”
Bucky’s eyes were faintly glossing over, threatening to cry. You didn’t know what to do other than take his hand, intertwining your touch with his metal one. He accepted it, wordlessly. With a nod, you got back on your walking route to the shop. 
“Thank you, doll,” Bucky said just above a whisper. You nearly missed it. Your heart did somersaults as you registered the words.
You two fell into more silence until you decided you needed to lighten the mood. You weren’t letting him drop you off at work like this. 
“Now,” you said, clearing your throat as your own tears had just about formed, “how did you spend the rest of your night?”
Bucky shrugged. “Nothing crazy,” he sighed. “I did some reading before bed.”
“Hmm.” Your interest had been peaked. You thought back to the little dream you had last night, portraying a very studious Bucky. You figured that while it was recent, it wasn’t from last night (dreams rarely ever came through that quick), making you now curious of his reading choices. “Interesting. Wouldn’t have taken you for a reader. What’s the book about?”
He let out a breathy chuckle. “Some new science fiction series Steve picked up for me,” Bucky explained. “I’m not too far into it but I think it has something to do with time traveling.”
You nearly laughed. You thought back to how the nightmares you had been getting recently were all over the place as if you were on your own time-traveling journey -- only it was the cruelest way possible. Fate was such a character. 
“Is that the kind of books you prefer? Science fiction?”
Bucky nodded, “Guess I’ve always been interested in all that science stuff.”
That science stuff. You giggled. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you said. “I’ve fallen a bit out of reading but I’d love to get your recommendations one day.”
“I’m not exactly well versed in all the books out there.” Because he had missed so much -- there was always that unspoken fact in every other thing he said. You wished you could coax him out of that habit but that didn’t seem possible right now. I
“Well, good thing I’m not looking to know about all the books,” you smiled, looking up at him, “I’m just looking to know about your books. Whatever comes across your radar that you end up loving, I’d like to hear about it.”
Bucky returned the smile. “What did you do with the rest of your night?”
“Nothing really,” you shrugged, turning your focus back to the sidewalk ahead of you. “I fell asleep pretty much right after getting home.”
You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you. From the corner of your vision, you could see a bit of a frown on his lips. 
“You didn’t do anything?”
You shook your head.
“No hobbies or anything?”
You sighed. “I’m usually just too tired or too into work to do very much. Last night had been… Overwhelming for me, I think. When it was over, I was exhausted. All of me, body and mental.”
You felt Bucky’s thumb start rubbing soothing patterns on the back of your hand. Your breath caught a bit in your throat. 
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean for you to get overwhelmed.”
You began shaking your head profusely, “No, no, it’s not your fault, Bucky,” you insisted, “I psyched myself out a bit, I think.”
He let out a long sigh at that. “Well, you shouldn’t do that anymore,” he said, so sincerely. “I never want to bring you pain or worry, okay? That shouldn’t be what… we do.”
“We do?” You looked up at him but he had already turned away. “Oh, you mean what soulmates do.”
“The word still gets caught on the tip of my tongue.”
Your cheeks started feeling hot. “I understand.”
As the conversation faded, your coffee shop came into view. You two stopped outside it. Glancing in the window, you made eye contact with your coworker who had just begun setting up for the day. Her eyes got wide as she realized who the man was behind you. Her shock promptly morphed into excitement.
You turned back to Bucky. “Thank you for accompanying me.”
He flashed you a smile, making your heart just absolutely dissolve. “Of course,” he said. “Anyday, anytime. I’d be happy to accompany you anywhere.”
You were shamelessly full-on blushing, once again feeling like a ridiculous school girl. You had to avert your gaze as Bucky’s eyes on you were making you feel all sorts of things in these fluffy moments. 
With a pointless nod and no more words, you turned to face the coffee shop entrance. One hand on the handle, you stood there. Just holding it. You could hear Bucky walking away. 
Fuck it, you thought. 
You quickly turned back around and dashed to catch up with him. He was walking so leisurely as if he expected this. You called out his name and he whipped around promptly, looking as if he was fighting back another smile. 
“Here,” you said as you grabbed a napkin and pen from your bag and scribbled down your phone number. “It’s my number in case you want to, I don’t know, text me or call or something.” 
He took the napkin gently as if it was the most precious gem in the world seconds away from shattering. With a nod, Bucky responded, “Sure, doll. Thank you.”
You smiled, giving him a nod back. That wasn’t all, though. You had another caution to throw into the wind. Quickly, you placed your hand on Bucky’s shoulder and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. It was so fast you barely had time to register your own movement but Bucky definitely picked up on it. Now his face was the one with a tinge of warm color coming up on it.
“Have a good shift.” It was all Bucky seemed capable of saying as he shot you a wider smile, eyes softening at your nervous form. Before you could respond anymore, prolonging this weird but sweet goodbye for the day, he resumed his walk back. 
As feelings of all sorts washed over, you headed back to the coffee shop where you finally entered… And was greeted by your coworker standing in front of the entrance, arms crossed, staring you down.
“Good morning,” you said, avoiding eye contact and trying to get around her. She stepped in your path.
“Was that…” You nodded before she could finish the words. She broke out into a surprise fit of giggles. “You met him?” She asked in disbelief. 
You nodded. “Last night. We had dinner and he walked me home. It was very nice.” You kept it short and sweet, not feeling like gossiping about something so fresh. But you also secretly wanted to just throw everything out there. It was exciting, it was new. Overall, though, it felt great. 
Your coworker let out gasps, almost in awe. “That’s so exciting,” she said. “Is he, like, nice? Anything like-,”
You shook your head quickly, making her cut off her words. “He’s nothing like…” You didn’t want to say them anymore. Well, at least for right now. You knew a talk with Bucky about it all had to be coming but you want to push it aside for now. “He’s wonderful. A true gentleman. He showed up this morning to walk me to work. What man nowadays would do that?” You chuckled, almost in your own state of disbelief. “Plus, he’s kind of fascinating. Unexpected, even. Would you have guessed he’s a reader?”
You made your way farther into the shop, discarding your bag and throwing on an apron. You began wiping down the counters as your coworker followed. 
“He sounds almost… normal?”
You stopped your movement, taking in that observation. You finally nodded in agreement. Yeah, you guessed that so far he was kind of normal. At least, personality-wise. 
After a moment you said, “I think I’m glad I didn’t try to move on.”
Despite not looking at her, you knew your coworker wore another ridiculous, lovey smile. She was practically in awe and, you had to admit, you kind of were, too.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
taglist under construction right now, deepest apologies!
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blackbat05 · 3 years ago
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Day by Day
Shangqi x Reader 
A/N: My love for this man has hit an all time high so let me capitalize on it while I still can! If you read everything, I sincerely thank you for doing so!!! And holy cow 2 fics in 2 days have I gone back into my prime days? 
Genre: PG-13
Notes: As the title mentioned, I’ll probably set it some time after endgame. You could see it as a prequel to my first post! Reader is a social worker and she’s just dealing with all the mess that the snap bought back. The reader’s name as Jen Lee. I also apologize in advance for the potentially long fic. 
***
‘Excuse me, I’m looking for my child? Her name’s Wang Yiman and she’s seven.’ Another frazzled-looking parent fought her way to the front of the receptionist, approaching the helpless intern who looked like she was going to be on the verge of tears if another request came in. 
‘I got this,’ a hand calmly reassured the young intern as she beckoned the relief parent. ‘Mrs Wang? My name is Jen Lee and I’m the social worker here.’ I offered my hand for the anxious mother. ‘Oh thank god! Is Yiman ok? She must have been so scared!’ I slowed to a stop outside the room at the end of the corridor, gently sitting her down. 
‘Yiman has been a very brave girl Mrs Wang, but I will not lie to you. The sudden disappearance of their parents has traumatized a lot of kids. We’ve managed to explain to them what was going on but they will need a lot of support.’ I gave a glance over Mrs Wang’s shoulder, nodding to my colleague, Tammy who was holding the hand of a little girl in pigtails and a floral dress. 
妈妈! mā ma (mommy!)
The young girl ran into her mother’s open arms, allowing the floodgates to open from both ends. I turn to Tammy as we shared a silent agreement to leave the area. ‘That’s the last one for the day,’ Tammy unceremoniously plops herself onto the chair, letting out a groan. ‘Thanks for your hard work Jen.’ 
‘Right back at you.’ I entered the last bit of paperwork before uploading Yiman’s case file onto the portal. Yiman’s reunion with her parents meant the Children and Youth Centre were halfway in getting every displaced child back to their parents. Looking at the dingy television that was hung on the walls at the waiting room, despite not being able to hear anything, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on. S.W.O.R.D was apparently in a stand-off against Wanda Maximoff? Reported rumors that Sam Wilson didn’t want anything to do with the shield? It’s been a crazy few weeks but that was utter- 
‘Bullshit! If anything it’s the government. They must have psyched him into giving up the shield.’ My chair swiveled to face Tammy who returned a nonchalant shrug. ‘What? You know I’m right. Doesn’t matter if half the world’s gone or our universe gets split into two - they’re the true evil here. I’m still struggling to find a place after I found a couple making out in my apartment! And you know what the global repatriation council told me? We’re only dealing with urgent cases right now. Well I say f-’
The incessant ringing of the bell interrupted our conversation, replacing Tammy’s tirade into a cheeky grin. ‘Look who’s here!’ 
Shangqi stands behind the counter, dressed in his usual red varsity jacket and jeans, holding bags of what I could only make out as takeout from the Chinese restaurant that was run by a friendly Singaporean couple. ‘Did I interrupt something?’ He scratches his head nervously. ‘Nope, in fact you just saved me from Tammy’s monologue, any further and she’ll explicitly tell me what she saw in her apartment when she got dusted back that day,’ I shivered in mock fear. ‘Still haunts me up till today.’ Tammy meets us by the door, bag in her hand. 
‘I thought you were staying? We got fried dumplings and 泡饭  pào fàn (poached rice).’ 
‘Last minute duty - A parent called, gotta run! Enjoy your dinner date.’ She waggles her eyebrows suggestively, much to our embarrassment. ‘What? It’s not...’ Shangqi stutters, trying to form intelligible sentences. ‘Get out before I throw a fried dumpling at your face Tammy!’ She winks at me, before darting out of the door. Once my nosy colleague was out, I turn towards a red-faced Shangqi. ‘I’m so sorry... just don’t mind her.’ 
‘Huh?’ The man was knocked out of his stupor. ‘Oh yeah... sure,’ in an attempt to forget everything that had just happened, he opened the packets of fried dumplings. ‘Ready for war?’ 
‘I was born ready.’ 
Thirty-five minutes later, all that was left were the remnants of fried dumplings and three empty containers. 
‘This should be illegal,’ I patted my stomach in satisfaction to his amusement. ‘Laugh at yourself! You lost track of how many dumplings you had and ended up taking my share!’ 
Raising his hands in defeat, Shangqi starts to clear the table up. ‘So how’s the center? Everything alright?’ I nodded numbly. 
The past five years had been a blur. Hazy, even. All I remembered was a kid running into the office telling me that half of the staff disappeared during a school holiday program that we were running with a dozen other kids. Parents who survived the snap rushed to our center, demanding to see their children. We couldn’t give them any answer as we too, were equally perplexed. Maybe the only thing that made sense was Shangqi and Katy bursting into the center to help us with the chaos. 
Coming back from what could be the 1000th phone call, I got a glimpse in the children’s playroom where the five years old kids were at, treating myself to an amusing sight. They all had red cloths draped around their neck, each holding a stick that was from the abandoned prop box. Katy wasn’t spared to as she was wearing her own red cloth that seemed a few sizes to small for her. Not that she didn’t seem to mind. 
‘Alright my warriors! Chargeeeeee!!!!!!’ 
In unison, little pairs of feet pattered across the room towards their ‘enemy’, a cardboard cutout of a monstrous creature who was really just Shangqi in disguise. 
‘RAWR! I’ll eat anyone who stands in my way!’ He stands up, mimicking a dinosaur that was about to trample an entire city. I decided that the paperwork could wait, standing near the door to watch an Oscar-worthy performance. With great effort and bravery from the kids, they finally managed to take down 5 foot 10 worth of muscle. 
‘Again! Again!’ 
I chuckled upon seeing Shangqi on the floor, about to drift off into wonderland. It was time for me to step in. ‘Alright kids that’s enough for today! Dinner’s here.’  As the kids dispersed with the help of Katy, it was just the two of us left to clear up the mess. ‘Thank you so much, both of you. I honestly can’t think of what would happen if you guys didn’t come to help.’ 
Perhaps my body language was screaming ‘I’m dead tired, please just knock me out’ as Shangqi takes a cloth from me, folding it back into the box. ‘It’s what we would have done, this place, it means a lot to us - to me.’ 
A small knock on the door diverts our attention away from the trash. Little Yiman stands at the door, as she stares at the both of us with big round eyes. 
‘Yiman, it’s late, what are you doing here?’ I squat down to her eye level. The little girl beams, ‘ 妈妈 said that I could give this to you!’ She passes me a juice box together with a handmade card with colorful scribbles. Maybe I was carrying too much on my shoulders, as I suddenly felt a boulder lifted off me. ‘Thank you,’ I smile at her sweetly, ‘I love apple juice.’ Happy with the response, she runs to Shangqi. ‘Shangqi 哥哥 gē ge (brother)!’ 
He breaks out into a smile, opening his arms wide. Yiman nuzzles her head into his shoulder before breaking out into uncontrollable giggles from his sudden attack of tickles. ‘Are you hear to help Miss Jen?’ I took the trash from his hands, giving him some time with the girl. 
‘Yes I am. Miss Jen needs some help so I’m here today!’ 
‘Are you her boyfriend?’ 
Shangqi freezes on the spot. He had undergone what could be the toughest training by his father, fought the greatest assassins in the world and here he was - stumped by a question from a seven year old. ‘Well... I’m her close friend since when we were very young,’ Yiman looks at him expectantly. ‘She helped me when I was in trouble so I had to be a good friend when she was in trouble too.’ 
‘Like how Ningning helped me when I injured my knee?’ 
‘Yeah... something like that.’ He breathes a sigh of relief, thankful to escape his first crisis. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure if he was telling himself the truth. 
‘Yiman! Your mother’s here!’ The little girl gives him one last hug before running to the waiting room. Shangqi takes a moment to recollect himself. ‘Here I am thinking that you finally managed to have some stamina while interacting with young children, maybe I was wrong.’ I teased as I sat beside him. 
‘Har har, hilarious.’ He tosses me a straw for our peach teas, as we were greeted by the amazing night view of San Francisco. ‘Enough about me, you good though?’ Looks like he didn’t forget the conversation that was cut off earlier. My mind goes back to a few minutes earlier, eavesdropping on the conversation.
‘I had to be a good friend when she was in trouble too.’
Life has been so unpredictable, I don’t even want to think too far into the future. With appearances from more superpowered beings, I don’t know what’s real anymore.
‘Yeah. To be honest, it’s been so crazy and overwhelming but I’ll get through it. I have you don’t I?’ Giving him a wink, I slowly sipped on the sweetness of the tea, savoring the pearls. He pauses for a moment, nodding thoughtfully. 
Life isn’t the same as it was before. But maybe, just maybe... if I had Shangqi, I’ll take each day on one at a time. Day by day. 
[END]
A/N: Hoho! I literally spent the whole afternoon writing because I just had to get this idea out and also because work was pretty slow today. I have no idea what is up with my first two fics hinting at unrequited love? I guess I got inspired by Shangqi’s and Katy’s platonic relationship because I thought it was so well written but I also love Shangqi so I guess is a compromise kinda thing. Again, do like and comment if you wish! Really thankful that y’all have been so kind to me so far! 
Perhaps I’ll try my hand at shorter ones like headcannons before this girl exhausts herself out and I don’t want to do that because I believe I have more to show! 
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vintage-squid · 4 years ago
Text
Threading Our Future
Summary: When up-and-coming designer Virgil Psykhe lands an interview with his favourite fashion label, he has no idea that the attention he's drawn to himself is being taken away from someone very important: the Lady of the Summer Court. Scorned and furious, she sends her son to kill the insolent human.
But when Janus lays eyes on Virgil for the first time, his breath is stolen by the fluttering of his heart and he knows he won't be able to follow through with his mother's orders.
A modern fae re-telling of the Eros and Psyche myth!
Pairing: Virgil/Janus (background Logan/Patton) Characters: Virgil, Janus, Roman, Remy, Patton, Logan, Remus  Rating: T Warnings: mild violence and blood mention, nonsexual nudity, literal sleeping together  Word count: 10 363 
----- 
Virgil Psykhe groaned as he stood from his chair, bracing both hands against the small of his back and pressing until he felt a satisfying series of pops from his hips and up his spine. He should know better by now than to spend hours on end hunched over his projects without taking proper breaks, but he honestly couldn’t help it. Once he got focused, his whole world narrowed to sketch, cut, sew, trim. It was like he was possessed by some crazy spirit who deemed his sarcastic, introverted ass worthy enough to use as a vessel for creation. At least, that’s how he described the near-frenzy he would fall into when his worried fathers questioned after his health.
Was he getting enough sleep? (No.) When was the last time he’d had something to eat? (Did the granola bar he had earlier count?) Would he be willing to drink more water if Papa cut up some citrus to add? (Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea...)
He knew their fretting came from a place of love. As the youngest of three, he was the baby of the family. Both of his older sisters had married a few years ago, now living with their husbands in a couple of larger, nearby cities. They had told their parents the distant moves were for their husband’s jobs, but Virgil knew better. His sisters had never seemed to fit with the unique … energy of their small hometown.
Virgil, however, had yet to even move out, let alone find anyone who would want to spend the rest of their life with him. Thankfully, while his dads did want him to eventually find love, they were mostly just happy to support his dreams of becoming a famous designer.
Rolling his eyes, Virgil glanced around his cluttered studio. Like he would ever actually be a big name in the fashion industry. Yeah, sure, he wanted more than anything to get his designs out there for models of all backgrounds and appearances to showcase the beauty that was in every body type, but he didn’t want his first name attached to that kind of attention. Nope. No thanks. He would much rather people enjoy his work for what it was, not just because it came from him.
Maybe a pseudonym would work? Eh, he still had time to think about it anyway. It wasn’t like he was going to be traveling far from his studio in his dads’ basement any time soon after all. Picking up his phone, Virgil glanced at the time and cursed under his breath. Shit, he was late to meet up with Remy, and he had forgotten to plug his charger in. He groaned as he shoved his phone in his pocket anyway and grabbed his wallet, headphones, and house key. That drama queen was probably going to bitch and moan about being made to wait until Virgil finally agreed to pay for his drink. Not that Virgil really minded, but he had appearances to keep up.
With one last glance around to make sure he had everything, he dashed up the stairs to head out.
-----
Jogging down the street, Virgil turned past the Spirits’ Temple, where the town’s inhabitants left offerings to the spirits of the forest on the first of every month. Tradition claimed that each month was to be dedicated to one of the twelve local spirits who held dominion over different areas of day-to-day life, and that by honouring them, the town would prosper. At the height of the monthly festivals, there would be candles lining the marble steps, fake vines and string lights wrapped around the temple’s stone columns, and a wide spread of wine and honey-sweetened foods to be served. Some of this would be up for grabs on the buffet table, but a selection was always saved to be placed in one of the twelve bronze braziers, which one depended on the month, lining the sides of the temple. Each brazier was set in front of a stone statue carved with a symbol that denoted which spirit it belonged to.
At some point during the evening, everyone in town would take a moment to approach the massive fireplace along the back wall of the temple and toss in a part of their meal with a quietly murmured prayer for luck in some strange-sounding language. To this day, Virgil wasn’t sure what exactly he was saying, but his dad had taught him the correct pronunciation, and he was too superstitious not to follow through. Besides, it wasn’t like he could look too ridiculous doing it when literally everyone else was doing the same thing.
Approaching one of the two coffee shops in town, and the only one he ever frequented, Virgil shook his head to rid himself of thoughts of weird small-town rituals. Inside, it was easy to spot Remy sitting at their usual table with his sunglasses tucked into the front of his shirt and a drink already in hand. As he slid into his side of the booth, Virgil was surprised to see his favourite order (hot chocolate with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles, and a slice of banana bread) already waiting for him.
“I was gonna apologize for being late, but clearly I don’t have to,” he said, glancing up and narrowing his eyes. “What did you do?”
Remy threw both hands up in a gesture of innocence. “Hey now, why did I have to do something wrong in order to surprise my best friend with his favourite goodies?”
Virgil snorted and crossed his arms, giving his friend a Look.
“Fine, fine!” Remy blew out a sigh and dropped his hands onto the table. “So, maybe I did do something, and maybe you’re gonna be a little mad at me for it, but I promise it’s okay! It’s gonna pay off and you’re totally going to thank me for this one day!”
Virgil dropped his face into his hands with a groan and dug the heels of his palms against his eyelids. “Just spit it out, Remy. What the fuck did you do?”
“Remember that photoshoot we did a couple weeks back with the latest ‘famous-one-day’ designs you sewed up?” Virgil could hear the familiar sounds of Remy typing on his phone. “Well babe, you’ve been making ‘one days’ for too long! So I decided to make ‘one day’ into ‘today’! Ta-dah!”
Bracing himself, Virgil peeked out from the dark safety of his hands, blinking a few times to clear his blurry vision and focus on the phone screen wavering in front of him. Right there, staring back at him from within Remy’s well-manicured clutch, was an email addressed to Penelope with attached photos from their shoot.
“Please, please tell me you didn’t sen-”
“I sent our pics to your favourite fashion label! The one and only Penelope! Known for their breathtaking lines like ‘Faith’ and ‘Fidelity’ that reimagined what it meant to be fashionable! And the best part!” Remy paused for dramatic effect, all but wiggling in his seat. “They emailed me back! They want to do an interview with you next month on the first!”
There was a loud thud as Virgil’s head met the table. If they hadn’t been sitting in public, he definitely would have started screaming too. Instead, all that came out was a muttered, “I fucking hate you. Why would you do this to me? You know I suck at talking to people; they’re gonna hate me and then tell all of the other companies to never work with me and then I’ll definitely never make it.”
A hand settled on top of his head and began to run through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp at the same time. “Don’t be so dramatic, Virge. This is gonna be great for you, I promise. When have I ever led you astray?”
Virgil glared at his friend and opened his mouth, but Remy cut him off.
“Ahp-ahp! Rhetorical question, babes. You're going to thank me for this, I promise.”
When Virgil remained silent, the hand that had been petting his hair slid down to cup his cheek and lift his chin up.
“Hey,” his best friend murmured softly. “If you really, really don’t want to do this, I can email them back and cancel, but I think you should go for it, Virge. This could be your big break!” Remy’s thumb had begun running a soothingly back and forth over his cheek. Virgil didn’t even try to hide the way he relaxed into the comforting gesture, leaning more weight into his friend’s palm. “I’ll even come with you to the interview, okay? I’ll be right there the entire time - gotta make sure they meet your number one model after all,” he added with a playful wink.
Damn Remy and his extroverted influence. Virgil sighed and sat up fully, reluctantly pulling away from the comforting hold and silently relieved when Remy’s hand dropped to link their fingers instead. “I guess as long as you’re there too, then I won’t be the only one making a fool of myself.”
“That’s the spirit!” Remy cheered, ignoring the looks some of the other patrons shot their way at the noise.
Keeping their hands interlocked, Virgil picked up his hot chocolate and took a sip of the sweet ambrosia as he listened to his best friend ramble about his plans for their future.
-----
Somehow, the word got out. Everyone and their cousin’s dog knew about Virgil’s interview and had seen some of the photos that had been leaked. All of them wanted to get a glimpse of not only the representatives of the big fashion label (who may as well have been celebrities to the small community), but also the unobtrusive young man who had brought the attention onto their town.
Virgil clung to Remy’s hand as they approached the café where the interview was going to be taking place. It wasn’t their usual haunt, something Virgil was grateful for; if things went south, he didn’t want that memory attached to one of his favourite places. People were already gathering outside, gossiping amongst themselves or attempting to peer through the front windows. He longed to pull his hood up and hide his face, but Papa had spent all morning helping him make sure his hair and make-up (and everything else) looked interview ready. Not to mention he wasn’t even wearing his favourite hoodie to tuck himself away into.
At Remy’s insistence, he had donned one of the outfits he made last year. The top was made of a flowy material, tighter at the wrists and loose in the arms, wrapping comfortably around his chest to tie in the front above his navel. It was sewn from a high-quality plum linen with a black lace webbing over top. For the bottom, Virgil had pieced together different shades of grey and black fabrics until he had a pair of loose patchwork pants that sat at the hips and left a strip of his stomach visible. He had completed the look with a fresh pair of high-tops that tied the look together despite the discordant styles. With one last look to his best friend for reassurance, Virgil nodded and they waded through the crowd together, on their way to their future.
-----
Singing to herself, Roman stepped through the woods with all the ethereal grace granted to her by her station. As she made her way to the quaint little human town, Roman was accompanied by a pair of mourning doves. While one had alighted on her shoulder, the other fluttered about, and both were cooing in harmony with her otherworldly song.
Her body was draped in a sheer chiffon number, as blood-red as the wine she drank from each year at the celebration of her power and beauty. It was naught much more than a thin layer of fabric over one shoulder and wrapped about her shapely waist, exposing one breast and leaving little work for the imagination on the rest of her body. The finest embroidery coloured the lower hem with twisting rose vines, as if they had sprung from the ground she walked on and reached up for her attention. Her hair was left to tumble free, as wild and untamed as the waves she had been born from so long ago. The Lady of the Summer Court had arrived.
In no time at all, the temple the humans of the village had built for her and her compatriots so long ago came into view. Roman hurried her steps, eager to feast on the delightful offerings she knew would be awaiting her. She hoped one of them left pomegranate; it was her favourite. The plump fruit so easy to tear open to reveal the juicy flesh inside - and the crunchy seeds! Oh!
Grinning, Roman moved around the side of the temple, stepping between the columns to slip inside and make her way towards her ceremonial statue along the right with the other ruling gentry of the Seelie Court. However, when she got close enough to see into the massive dish, indignation began to boil in her blood. Before her, in her brazier, lay half as many offerings as were given to her in the years passed. She looked around, hoping to find something else had been set aside or misplaced, but there was nothing. Seething, she spun on her heel and stalked towards the front of the temple in search of answers.
Outside, two attendants were working to douse the remaining candles to be collected on the morrow after Roman had departed. Well, they were certainly going to be in for a surprise when they returned to find their pitiful offerings still there in the morning. Even with the great distance between them, as a fae, Roman’s sharp ears did not struggle to overhear the conversation between the two humans.
“-believe something like this could happen in our little town,” the one on the right was saying. “Especially from that quiet kid! What’d you say his name was again?”
“He’s the Psykhe’s youngest boy, Virgil.
“No kidding! Sam was telling me the kid showed up for the interview wearing this wild statement piece, like a full fashion runway. I bet his dads sure are proud. I heard half the town was outside Burnsen’s hoping to get a front-row seat. They certainly weren’t here, that’s for sure.”
“Damn shame,” the second human agreed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a turn out this small for a Spirit’s Night. I just hope it doesn’t come back to bite us in the ass.”
The pair continued their gossip as they finished with the candles and moved onto tidying some of the other nonessential decorations. Roman wasn’t interested in listening any further; she had what she needed. Turning away from the pitiful little temple those putrid humans had so desecrated on her day of honour, the Lady of the Summer Court stormed back into the forest, seething vitriol.
“How dare these humans offer this worthless boy the worship and reverence meant for me! My status is all but set in the very stars and they do nothing more than drag it through the muddy earth!” She screeched, scaring away the doves who had been lingering nearby. “So much for me, the ancient mother of this forest who feeds and fosters the very nature of this place! If nothing lusts, then nothing reproduces! Did they ever consider that before they forced me to associate my status with a mere mortal child?”
As Roman cried out, the very trees parted for her, leaning their trunks away and raising their boughs out of the path of the furious fae. She paid them little heed as she marched down a trail long familiar. “Won’t this boy, whoever he is, be glad to know he has claimed the honours that are due to me by right? Not for much longer, this I swear by my very name! He will regret this beauty to which he has no claim!”
At the climax of her tirade, Roman stopped before the ivy-woven doors of her son’s lofty domain. She would teach this Virgil what happened when you scorned the fae.
-----
Across town, still wearing the outfit and makeup from earlier, though much disheveled, Virgil ran as if his life depended on it. At this point, though, his life may as well have been over, so what was the point in struggling on? Down the street and through the park, he sprinted until he could go no further and crumbled to the ground at the top of the large hill that overlooked the fish ponds. On his hands and knees, he clutched at the damp earth and panted heavily through his heaving sobs.
It was over. Penelope didn’t want to pick him up as a designer. Sure, they liked the selection that Remy had sent them, enough to come talk to him about it, but when the representatives had taken a look through the rest of his portfolio? They hadn’t said they hated it outright, but Virgil was certain his designs were too gothic, too dark, too risky for mainstream fashion. They were going to talk with some of the higher-ups back at the designer studio, but Virgil wasn’t going to be holding his breath. He’d seen their expressions clear as day while they flipped through his work.
Collapsing forward, Virgil buried his face into the crook of his elbow and curled his knees towards his chest, sobbing even harder. He had told Remy after the interview that he needed some space, but now that he was out here alone, he wanted nothing more than a hug from his best friend. Fuck, how was he going to tell his dads about this? It would break their heart!
Virgil shook his head free of the thought; he couldn’t handle any more right now. So he lay on the ground with his cheek pressed against the cool night grass, and cried until he passed out from exhaustion.
-----
In the twilight between wakefulness and sleep, Virgil stirred when he felt a pair of arms slide under his body and hoist him up into a strong hold. His head lolled to the side until his temple dropped against a firm body. Then, a kiss was pressed to his forehead, tickling his skin with...a mustache?
“Go back to sleep, little human,” a high, scratchy-sounding voice said. “Jay doesn’t want you to see anything just yet! We don’t want to ruin the surprise, eh?”
Virgil’s face scrunched in confusion, but before he could crack his eyes open to see who was carrying him, a warm breath blew across his face and carried him off to his dreams like a gentle breeze spiraling high into the air.
-----
When Virgil woke for the second time, it was with far more peace and tranquility than he usually felt when greeting the day. His bed was extra soft and luxurious beneath the swell of his hip and he was comfortably warm, though he couldn’t feel the usual weight of his blanket. Stretching his arms far above his head, Virgil suddenly snapped his eyes open when his fingertips were greeted not with the hard wall behind his headboard, but with a damp, spongy texture instead.
Scrambled to his feet, he looked around to discover he was at the edge of a clearing, carpeted with a thick moss that his feet sank slightly into and surrounded by trees who towered so far above him their canopies seemed lost secrets of the sky. To one side a stream babbled a song, its waters bright as day and clear as glass. Breathless, he turned a slow circle, feasting on the seemingly supernatural wonders with starving eyes. The sight that greeted Virgil as he turned full around, however, could have subsisted him for a lifetime.
At the very heart of the grove, sitting in its focal point, rose what he could only describe as a palace. The trees which made up its supporting columns were an ivory birch, though much wider than any Virgil had ever seen, with leaves seemingly grown from pure gold that glittered in the dappled sunlight they let through. Framed by these otherworldly goliaths, ivy vines had been woven together to form a grand door which opened of its own accord and bid Virgil to enter. Under a spell spun from his own awe and curiosity (and probably some of whatever magic this place had to be made of), Virgil strode forward.
Inside, the palace seemed to emulate its own light, reflecting off the vaulted ceiling and highlighting the polished stone walls decorated with endless silver reliefs of animals real and imagined. Virgil trailed his fingertips along the slithering spine of a snake as he passed, admiring the lifelike detail in each scale, but before he could venture much further, a voice spoke.
“Welcome.”
Virgil jumped, spinning around to search for the source of the voice, but no one was there. When they spoke again, it sounded like they were right over his shoulder.
“You have been invited into the home of the fae as a guest of honour, Virgil.” The man in question felt a strange twinge in his chest hearing his name from the voice. “If you follow the doors to your left, you will find a dining hall in which you may eat your fill; the foods are from your home world and you need not fear consuming them. To your right lay the bathing and bed chambers. Please, make yourself at home. You are safe here, my darling.”
“Who are you? How do you know my name?” Virgil called out into the empty room.
There was a small pause before the voice replied. “You may call me Janus for the time being. It matters not how I know your name, but you need not worry that I will give it to anyone else.”
“Not creepy at all,” Virgil murmured before raising his voice once more. “Where are you? Why can’t I see you?”
“Ahh, my darling, take care with your curiosity before it gets you into trouble. Fret not, I am here with you, though you cannot see me. I know it is hard, but you must trust in me, my love. I shall visit you this evening after the light of day has given way to the dark of night. So long as you promise not to look upon my face and let me remain shrouded in shadows, then I shall answer more of your questions then.”
“What? I’m supposed to trust you, but I’m not allowed to look at your face? What the fuck, dude?”
“I understand this may be a cause for alarm, but you must understand my perspective, dear one. If you were to gaze upon me uninhibited, I fear you would not fall in love with me in a manner which would be best for us both. Promise to me, Virgil.”
“Okay, okay, I promise. Why is this so important to you anyway?”
“Thank you. I wish to form a genuine bond with you, beloved, and I cannot do that if you are influenced by my appearance. That is not how I desire to court my future husband.”
“Husband? What do you mean future husband!?”
Virgil stood in place, waiting for any further response from the invisible person, but it seemed his host had vanished into the very air he spoke from. Blowing out a heavy sigh, Virgil looked from left to right and decided the faint grumbling in his abdomen was something he could ignore for the time being; he probably wouldn’t be able to stomach anything right now anyway. So, he made his way towards the baths, hoping a splash of cool water could wake him from this crazy dream.
Unfortunately, even after dunking his head under the cool water, Virgil was still stuck in the extravagant palace with an invisible host. He braced his hands on the sides of the stone bowl carved from the wall, staring blankly at the trickling waterfall that fed into the dish he had rinsed in. How the fuck did he get into this mess? The voice had mentioned something about this place belonging to the fae? What the fuck? There’s no way any of this could be real. Well, that Janus had said he would answer Virgil’s questions tonight, so there seemed little more he could do than wait.
The bedroom he had been given was grand, far larger than even his entire basement suite back home, and all of its drapings were more luxurious than Virgil had ever seen. He ran his fingers down the curtains that hung from the bedposts, marvelling at the quality and the depth of the colour. What he wouldn’t give to be able to create with fabrics of this pedigree. He fiddled with the tie of his shirt around his middle and settled onto one of the plush armchairs by the window. Now, to wait.
-----
Hours later, Virgil was startled awake from a light doze by the sound of footsteps approaching his door. He scrambled to his feet, keeping one hand braced on a bedpost to orient himself as he squinted through the darkness. It was so dark he couldn’t even make out the vague outlines of the furniture around the room.
The door opened.
Virgil tensed, gripping the bedpost tighter and raising his other arm in front of him defensively. From what he could see, backlit from the hall, the figure entering the room was about his height, maybe a little taller. It was difficult to make out in the dark, but the shadow he cast onto the floor seemed to be larger than his body mass would produce. The door closed, leaving the two of them alone in the dark.
“Janus?” Virgil asked nervously, hoping there wasn’t anyone else in the palace who would be coming into his room this late at night.
“Breathe, Virgil, it is only me.”
It was as if a spell of calm soothed over him, easing the tension from around his neck and within his chest. Virgil took a deep, relieving breath. Janus hadn’t come any further into the room, seemingly content to linger by the door.
“Um… hi?” Virgil winced at how awkward he sounded, but continued on regardless. “You said you would answer more of my questions, right?”
“That is correct, beloved. I will tell you as much as I am able to at this time.” There was the sound of shuffling in the dark. “May I join you on the bed? I think we will both be much more comfortable being seated for this conversation.”
Virgil bit his lip, looking between the bed and Janus despite not being able to see either. Eventually, he nodded, and then blushed when he realized what he’d done.
“Yeah… yeah, you can come sit over here, I guess.”
“Thank you, my darling.”
When the pair had gotten settled, Janus was seated at the foot of the bed, leaning up against the bedpost and seemingly unbothered by the strange situation. Virgil, on the other hand, had his back pressed against the headboard with his knees hugged to his chest. His feet were buried in the blankets and he was absently scrunching the soft material under his toes in a comforting, rhythmic motion. It was Janus who broke the silence first.
“What would you ask of me first, dearest?”
Virgil blew out a sigh. “Why did you bring me here? What are you going to do with me? Am I ever going to be allowed to go home? Will you-”
"Sh sh sh,” Janus crooned, “One at a time, beloved, all will be answered. In short, I do not know when you will be able to return to your home, or if you ever will, but it is for your own good!” Janus hurriedly added before Virgil could panic. “You see, there is someone very powerful who is very angry with you. Intentionally or not, you have caused her a great disrespect, and she will not rest until her dues have been met.”
“How do you know all of this?”
Janus sighed. “Because she is my mother, and she sent me to kill you.”
“What!?” Virgil screeched, throwing himself off the bed and slamming against the nearby wall. His nails scrabbled at the stone, desperate to clutch, claw, escape. No, no, no, he didn’t want to die! He snapped his head back and forth, searching for any sort of way out, but he was blinded by shadows and fear. A sharp cry escaped him when a hand suddenly wrapped around one of his own and he whimpered as it squeezed, expecting pain. Instead, a gentle crooning cut through the ringing in his ears.
“Breathe, Virgil, you are not in danger. You must calm down and listen.”
Janus’ voice was surprisingly tender for how powerfully it could be heard through Virgil’s panic. He was able to focus on it like a tether to pull himself into a more relaxed state of mind. At some point, he had begun to time his breathing with Janus’ as well, steady and even to a count known only to the fae holding him. When Virgil had relaxed enough to come back to himself, he tensed all over again, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“How can you say I’m safe, when you’re gonna kill me?”
“Because I have no intentions of killing you,” Janus replied, now cradling both of Virgil’s hands to his chest. Even this close, the darkness was so impenetrably thick that Virgil had no hope of glimpsing his face. He kept his eyes averted regardless. “I brought you here to remove you from my mother’s gaze and conceal you from her misplaced wrath.”
Virgil was silent, processing, as Janus gently tugged on his hands and guided him back onto the bed. There, the fae leaned against the headboard with his legs stretched out in front of him and carefully pulled Virgil to recline on his chest. Virgil resisted for only a moment before complying. Everything else about this was already way out of his depth to manage, he may as well allow himself to be comfortable wherever he could. Janus was either going to kill him or leave him alive, and there likely wasn’t anything Virgil could do to sway that decision at this point. So, Virgil settled himself against Janus’ chest with his body laying between Janus’ legs and stretching out until their legs tangled together. He was grateful now for the dark that hid a probably searing blush as his cheek pressed flush against the fae’s warm skin; Janus wasn’t wearing a shirt and his nude torso was warm to cuddle against.
“Now,” Janus murmured, shifting Virgil’s focus from his embarrassment to the situation at hand. His fingers ran over Virgil’s scalp and through his hair, carefully brushing out any tangles and soothing in the same motion. “If you will let me continue, I was going to say my mother had ordered for you to be killed, however, I do not agree with her decision. She is acting rashly over a slight you did not directly commit.”
“What did I even do to piss her off so bad?” Virgil murmured from where his face was tucked against Janus’ collar, resting more of his weight closer with each breath.
“I do not know the exact details, only that you were the cause for drawing her worshippers away from the temple on her day of adulation. The fae do not take kindly to being stolen from, especially not my mother.”
“The interview,” Virgil breathed in horror. Pushing himself upright, he clutched at Janus’ arm. “I swear, I didn’t mean for everyone to skip out on the Spirit’s Festival! If it had been up to me, none of them would have even been at the cafe! I didn’t want them there, you have to believe me!”
“Calm yourself, beloved. I believe that you did not intentionally act to anger her. However, you must understand that even a perceived slight is considered very real and serious to the fae. That is why you must remain here under my protection, until my mother’s ire cools or I can convince her to redirect her anger.”
As Janus fell silent, Virgil curled in again and pondered what he had been told, trying to remember anything he could about the fae. It wasn’t like there was one consistent guidebook he could follow, but some of the stories the older people used to tell his grade school classes at the library were starting to make a little more sense now. He had been told the forest couldn’t lie, so maybe that meant the fae were bound by the truth? A stretch, sure, but weren’t all myths rooted somehow in reality? They were also regularly told that the spirits of the forest loved beauty, especially in the form of attractive people, and could bestow gifts on those they enjoyed looking upon. Virgil had always felt so disheartened hearing that. He wasn’t anything special, just a plain-looking boy, so the forest would never favour him.
Why then had Janus?
“So,” Virgil broke into the quiet, “you supposedly brought me here to protect me from your mother, but that doesn’t explain why you called me your future husband earlier.”
Janus hummed. “When I set out to observe the human who had offended my mother, I was prepared to be faced with a disgusting example of your kind. What I found instead was the most beautiful face I had ever laid eyes on.” Virgil gasped when the hand that had been in his hair slipped down to cup his cheek and tilt his chin up. He felt a pair of lips brush so lightly against his forehead that he thought he imagined it. “You were sobbing so hard for a deeply rooted pain. I found myself desiring nothing more than to stop your tears and see how much your already breathtaking countenance would shine when lit by a smile.”
“I - you -”
Virgil was sure that he had been kissed before, because now he felt those lips curl into a smile.
“Is it so hard to believe you are so attractive?”
“Well, yeah,” Virgil huffed, his eyes closed as he leaned into Janus’ palm. “It’s not like I heard it all that often.”
“Mmm, I shall have to change that, then,” Janus whispered, resting his cheek on Virgil’s head, cradling him close once more. “Do you have any more questions, beloved? If not, it is time for you to rest, you’ve had a long day.”
The gentle petting and warm embrace were taking their toll on Virgil’s exhausted mind. He let himself rest heavily on Janus, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck and wrapping an arm around the fae’s chest. “Jus’ one,” he murmured, voice already dipping into that sleepy slur. “Wanna make sure m’dads know ‘m safe…”
“I’ll see what I can do, my love. Rest now, Virgil.”
Like a spell had been cast over him, Virgil drifted off to a dreamless sleep.
-----
When Virgil had awoken, he was alone in the massive bed. He was surprised to feel a twinge of disappointment in his chest, having hoped Janus would stay despite the fae not wanting to show his face. Sighing, he slid out of bed and got himself ready for the day, slipping into some comfortable clothes he found in a set of drawers. When he came down for breakfast, his host’s invisible voice greeted him and informed him that his dads had been told of the situation and were relieved Virgil was alive and relatively safe.
The next few days played out much the same. Virgil was left to his own devices during the day, waited on by some sort of invisible staff as he explored the palace. He never saw another soul, but whenever he needed something, he learned to simply call out for it and it would be delivered to him by magic.
Each night, Janus would arrive in his bedroom once the sun had disappeared. He never asked for more than Virgil was willing to give, but Virgil found himself cuddled close every night without fail. They would speak for hours - about Virgil’s dreams, his dads, and Remy - nothing was too simple for Janus to inquire about. The fae was fascinated by every aspect of human life, and Virgil enjoyed discovering a sense of romantic joy over the little things he had experienced. There was something about Janus that soothed away the ever-present worries that were always yelling inside Virgil’s head.
There was one worry that couldn’t be silenced, however. No matter how much Virgil was coming to trust his protector, he could not ignore the fact that he had no idea what Janus even looked like. It was eating away at him not to know, and the longer he sat alone, the Janus in his head looked more and more like a monster waiting to prey upon him. This couldn’t go on. He had to know.
-----
During the day before he was going to enact his plan, Virgil spent his time in the massive library he had discovered on the second day, scanning the shelves and making a show of selecting a couple books. He made himself comfortable in one of the oversized cushions piled near the floor-to-ceiling window and pretended to read. Between absently scanning the pages, Virgil looked up and glanced around the room, as if his mind were wandering with the tale he was apparently focused on. In reality, he was scouring the room for ideas.
Countless candles were lit around the library, their wax melting at different stages, some newly pooling while others formed thick layers around the base of the candelabras. They were lit now, but there was no way for him to have an already burning flame in the bedroom when Janus arrived for the night. He would have to find some way to light one on his own. Maybe he could just -
“Excuse me?” He called into the air. “Could I please have more candles, and some matches for them? I want to go read in my room, but, um, the smell is really nice in here.”
Like always, the items he requested popped into existence on a low table nearby: three candles and a pair of matches. Huh, he hadn’t actually thought that was going to work.
“Thank you!”
Hugging both books to his chest, Virgil collected his new tools and jogged up to his room. There, he placed the candles onto the small table between the armchairs and lit them with a match. The second match, he carefully tucked inside the front knot of his shirt, pressing against his breast. Now prepared, he settled in to actually focus on the novel he had picked up. There was nothing but time to kill.
-----
By the time Janus arrived, Virgil had already blown out the candles and crawled into bed. He cuddled in as soon as Janus had laid down, laying his head on the fae’s chest and trying to keep his breathing steady as they fell into their usually nighttime conversation. Janus’ claws delicately traced the bumps of his spine the entire time they spoke.
Once Virgil was sure Janus had fallen asleep, he began the slow process of extracting himself from the fae’s embrace. Janus really was a cuddler, and loved to hold Virgil close while they slept, but thankfully he was also quite a deep sleeper. Virgil was able to carefully pull himself away and tuck a pillow into Janus’ arms. The fae squished it to his chest and curled onto his side, none the wiser.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Virgil went to work. He grabbed one of the candles and fished the match out from under his shirt, striking it against the table to light it. One hand held onto the base of the candle, while the other carefully cupped around the flame, protecting it as Virgil walked around to the other side of the bed where Janus lay. With a deep breath to steady himself, he pulled his hand away and gasped at the sight in front of him.
Janus never wore a shirt, which meant Virgil’s hands had felt the broad expanse of his naked back every night they had slept together. That didn’t explain why there were now a pair of gorgeous, tawny wings sprouting from between Janus’ shoulder blades. The feathers looked softer than anything Virgil could imagine and shined like spun gold in the candlelight. Virgil ached to caress the speckled feathers, to scrunch his fingers in the fluffy down near the wings’ base, but as he reached out, Janus rolled over and Virgil’s breath was punched from his lungs. The face of his protector was carved by the gods. Janus’ skin was a rich, dark brown, reflecting the candle light to accent his strong jaw and sharp cheekbones. Virgil could only imagine what colour his eyes could be behind his lids, framed by perfectly shaped brows and a shapely nose. Oh! Those lips! So plump and full! What would they feel like pressed against his own?
Enraptured, Virgil tried to get a better look, but as he leaned forward, some of the melted wax from the candle spilled over and landed on Janus’ cheek. The fae yelped, startling awake and clutching at his face as he threw himself upright. Virgil jumped back in shock, falling on his ass while somehow keeping the candle lit. The clatter drew Janus’ attention and his head snapped to the side to look at Virgil, who saw the moment Janus’ eyes widened with understanding and heartbreaking betrayal.
“You promised!” Janus hissed. “You promised me you wouldn’t look! Does your word mean so little to you!?”
“N-No - I, I just, I wanted-”
“What!? What was so important that you had to break your promise?”
“I wanted to, to make sure you weren’t some sort of … monster … who had kidnapped me to… to eat me,” Virgil muttered, suddenly feeling incredibly foolish. Why did he have to give in to his anxieties so easily? The next moment, his heart crumpled with Janus’ expression.
“Get out.”
“Wait, what?”
“I said. Get. Out.” Janus growled, spreading his wings high above his head as he leaned over the edge of the bed. “Get out of my sight, and out of my home! If you cannot hold to one simple promise, then I will not protect you! You can deal with my mother’s wrath on your own!”
About to protest, Virgil cried out in fear as Janus slashed out him, narrowly missing his face with those lethal claws. He didn’t waste any more time, dropping the candle and scrambling to his feet to run out of the bedroom. The empty halls echoed with his laboured breathing and the slap of his bare feet against the tiled floor as he sprinted through the palace and out the ivy-woven doors. The moment he was out, the doors slammed shut behind him.
Panting heavily, Virgil bent over with his hands on his knees, his entire body trembling from fear and exertion. He dropped to the ground and clutched his head in both hands, curling smaller and crying as silently as he could muster. It was a long time before his breathing evened out and he was able to drag himself back to his feet.
A glance around the clearing revealed what he had known upon his first arrival: he had no idea where in the forest he was, or which way led back home. So, he did the only thing he could and picked a direction to start walking. Through the night he stumbled over roots and around tangled shrubs, not stopping until he finally tripped over his own exhausted feet and fell into the shockingly cold waters of a stream. He spluttered and gasped, miserably dragging himself back up the bank. The sun was rising overhead, the forest waking up around him; he didn’t have the time to huddle here in a ball feeling sorry for himself.
-----
As the day progressed, Virgil noticed the trees beginning to thin and the gaps between the trunks growing wider. Suddenly, the canopy overhead parted to reveal a mountain, vast and tall, that should have been visible long before this moment. Placed at irregular intervals up the cliffside were six palaces woven of different plants woven together with even more grandeur than Janus’ home. Over the edge of the mountain, the tips and edges of presumably more palaces - these ones sculpted and shaped from various stones - were visible against the pale sky.
Virgil squinted, trying to get a better look at the strangely familiar shapes carved into the rock face near each palace. He gasped. The symbols matched those carved into the statues above the bronze dishes in the Spirit’s Temple, more specifically, the dishes meant for the spirits honoured in the spring and summer. That would mean - there! On the left! Beneath a palace of myrtle trees and rose vines, was the symbol belonging to the seventh spirit. That had to be the home of Janus’ mother, the spirit - or fae, rather - who was supposed to have been honoured at the start of this month.
Biting his lip, Virgil looked back the way he came then up at the palace once more. If what Janus said was true, and he wasn’t going to be offering protection anymore, then Virgil would have to face her on his own. It was either that, or cowering away until she tracked him down and killed him. Also not a desirable option, but Virgil would rather have some form of control over the end of his life. Beginning to climb, he just wished he would have been able to say goodbye to his dads first.
While there were worn deer trails to follow, the journey was not an easy one. Virgil had to cling to the rocks, heaving himself ever upwards, trying not to slice his bare feet or palms on the uneven shale. The summer sun climbed alongside him, growing hotter and hotter, sapping his energy and strength. Still, he pushed on until he stood before the lush gates shaking with exhaustion and dizzy from the heat.
Before he could gather his wits, the thorny vines that sealed the palace from the outside world began to withdraw. Where they parted, massive sanguine roses bloomed, as if to cushion a passerby from the sharp thorns. From within the depths of the palace strode out a figure so radiant and commanding, Virgil immediately felt subservient to her will. He quickly looked away, cheeks hot, as both of her breasts were exposed and only a lightweight wrap covered her lower body. His body recoiled when her piercing laugh broke the silence.
“Finally! The wretched beast comes crawling to its master, the Lady of the Summer Court. Had enough of playing at royalty, have you? Look at me when I’m talking to you, Virgil!”
Virgil immediately snapped his head back towards her, paling when his eyes met with her seething ire, but unable to drop his gaze any lower. He gripped the sides of his pants with white knuckles. “I - I’m so, so sorry! I n-never meant-”
“Look at this!” The fae cut in, causing Virgil to flinch again. “The pathetic mortal trying to inspire pity from me with your anxiety and melancholy! I will not be made a fool and relegated to some cheap handmaiden!”
With a shriek of rage, the Lady of Summer darted forward faster than Virgil’s eyes could track. The next moment, he was sprawled on the ground, ears ringing. He brought a shaky hand up to his stinging cheek and felt his stomach drop when his fingertips came away bloody. Rolling onto his back, he choked. The Lady was looming over him, one of her hands dripping with his blood as she pinned him down with a foot on his chest.
“It seems only fair to me, mortal, that I give you some chance to win back my good graces. Therefore, you shall complete a task for me, or else I will take your life as compensation for your disrespect.” The Lady of Summer announced with a wave of her hand. Virgil looked to the side, wincing as the cuts in his cheek dug into the gravel, and watched in surprise as a pile of mixed grains appeared nearby.
“You will sort this mass and disarray of seeds - wheat, barley, millet, poppy, chickpea, and lentil - into individual piles. I will know if a single grain lays with the wrong group. You have until this evening.” With that, the Lady of Summer kicked off his ribs and spun her skirts, vanishing into thin air with a flourish and leaving only the heady scent of roses as a sign of her presence.
Virgil lay on the ground in silence for a long time after she disappeared, barely daring to breathe. When he was finally able to bring himself to move, he slowly rolled onto his hands and knees, hissing at the pain in his ribs - definitely bruised. Crawling over to the pile of seeds, he reached a hand out but hesitated before he could touch the tiny grains. How the fuck was he supposed to sort these? He could hardly begin to tell them apart! Sitting back on his ass, Virgil dropped his face into his hands and burst into tears.
Then, he heard a high-pitched giggle.
Flitting to-and-fro above him were four - five - eight, no - seven? Seven little pixies were spinning, twirling, dancing through the air above him. Their bright, insect-like wings caught the sunlight and sent out flashes of colour like a rainbow in motion. One-by-one they drifted to the ground, settling in a half circle in front of Virgil and his miserable collection of seeds. They stood only several inches tall and were dressed in leaves and petals. A pair stepped forward in front of the rest; they were holding hands.
“Hello, hello!” The one on the right chirped, waving up with his free hand. He had gorgeous light blue butterfly wings that fluttered when he spoke. “We heard you crying and came to see, to see! What happened here, here?”
Virgil sniffled, wiping away his tears and snot on his sleeve. “Well, um,” he hiccupped and took a deep breath. “It’s the Lady of the Summer Court. She wants me to sort all of these seeds by type before tonight, but I have no idea how I’m going to do that so she’s definitely going to kill me!” He slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle a sob, tears running down his face.
“Easy now,” a new voice murmured as two little hands pressed against his knee. Virgil blinked his eyes open to see the second pixie - this one with veiny wings like a beetle’s - rubbing his leg soothingly. “You need to take slow, deep breaths to calm yourself.”
Virgil nodded and attempted to follow suit, counting to four on each inhale and exhale until the tears had slowed and he was able to relax somewhat to continue the conversation. “Th-thank you, um, what are your names?”
“You can call me Pat, Pat!” The first pixie announced twirling himself up into the air and drifting back down again.
“Ah, so you are quite new around here,” the second pixie mused, keeping his hands on Virgil’s leg. “You may call me Lo. Names have great power to the fae and it is imperative that you do not give yours away lightly, else someone may have complete control over your will.”
“But the Lady of the Summer Court already knows my name, and so did Jan- her son.”
“At any point did you give it to them, though?”
Virgil thought back over the last few weeks. “No… no, they both just, sorta, knew it somehow. Oh, uh, I guess you can call me Vee, then?”
Lo nodded. “Then it is likely they only heard your name somewhere, but they do not own it. Do you understand? They can exert some measure of power over you, but they cannot remove your free will entirely. Now then. Why is it the Lady wants you dead?” The pixie offered a small smile, nodding his head as Virgil explained how he got into this situation, that he knew Janus (though he referred to him as Jay), and why he wasn’t with the other fae anymore. When he finished, it was Pat who puffed up angrily.
“The Lady has gone too far, too far! You didn’t mean to make those people leave, leave! And it sounds like you didn’t actually make a binding promise, so Jay is acting a bit silly, bit silly. So, we’re gonna help you sort these seeds, and get everything cleared up, up!”
Logan nodded in agreement. “Indeed. Pat, you stay here with the others to aid Vee. I am going to go have a word with our feathered friend.” With that, Lo leaned in, kissed Pat’s cheek, and flew off down the mountainside.
Virgil watched the glint of Lo’s wings until he was out of sight, then turned back to the remaining pixies to watch as their quick, tiny hands got to work on the grains. “So… how do you know Jay?
Pat grinned widely up at him. “Jay is one of the Princes of Spring, Spring!” He works with love magic, and helped Lo and I get together decades ago in exchange for our help weaving that pretty gate in front of his palace, his palace!”
While they continued to converse, the pixies worked away at the seeds to form six unique piles, sorted from darkest to lightest. Before long, the entire jumbled mass had been reorganized without a single seed out of place. Once their job was complete, the five other pixies twittered their goodbyes and flew off up the mountain. Only Pat remained, sitting on his knee and chattering away as the sun set. Virgil shivered as a chill breeze licked at his exposed skin.
A sudden snap rent the night air, spooking Virgil, who lurched forward to cradle Pat in his hands protectively. Looking over his shoulder, he felt like vomiting when he saw the Lady of Summer standing over the grain piles with her arms crossed. He internally thanked any of the spirits who may be on his side that her chest was covered this time.
“This is not your work,” she hissed. “These were not organized by your hand, but by his!” She pointed an accusing finger at Pat, who had been peeking around Virgil’s arm but quickly hid back against his chest at the attention. “How dare you attempt to deceive me, you cretin!”
With a wordless shriek, the Lady lashed out with her vicious claws, aiming for the unmarked side of Virgil’s face. He scrambled back on his hands and heels, his ass dragging on the ground while Pat clung to the front of his shirt. Before she could take a second swipe, however, the dust and grit kicked up around them, obscuring their vision.
With his eyes covered, Virgil could only hear the flapping of large wings that cut off before there was the thud of a body dropping in front of him. Opening his eyes, he gasped. There, with his back to Virgil, stood Janus, with his great wings spread wide and his claws flexed at his sides. Lo, who had been holding onto the fae’s shoulder, now zipped down to the pair on the ground, holding Pat close and ensuring he was unharmed while the pixies huddled together on Virgil’s lap.
“You will not lay another hand on him,” Janus hissed, standing over Virgil protectively. Virgil felt Pat grip his thumb, but he couldn’t look away from the pair above them.
“What are you doing? Get out of the way, my son.”
“No. You wanted your revenge on him, and you got it. Look at him; he’s terrified, injured, and exhausted. The original disrespect against you was not even intentionally caused by him; it was the doing of numerous others. I do not fault you for your affront, but you are carrying on like a tantruming toddler!”
The Lady of Summer took a step back and clutched at her bosom. “You dare to speak to me like that?”
“I do, and so does the rest of the Seelie Court.” Virgil watched as Janus rolled his shoulders back and stood straighter. The Prince of Spring then reached into a bag tied at his hip and pulled out some sort of wooden charm dangling from a hemp rope. At the sight of it the Lady of Summer gasped and covered her mouth. “I have spoken before the Queen and her retinue, and she has decreed you will leave this mortal alone. In exchange, he will return to his town and gather a proper celebration for you by the end of this month.”
Virgil held his breath, not daring to twitch a muscle as he awaited his fate. The Lady of Summer let nothing show in her expression, but the hard lines of her face had softened attractively as Janus spoke. She shifted, looking over Janus shoulder and directly at Virgil. “You. You will do as this deal demands?”
Nodding rapidly, Virgil held up his hand in oath. “I will, I promise. I’ll go back home and speak with the curator of the Spirit’s Temple. We’ll host another festival and you’ll get the offerings you were supposed to be given at the start of the month.”
As if a switch had been flipped, the Lady of the Summer Court beamed a smile and grasped her hands over her heart. “Well then! That wasn’t so hard, was it! My dear, smart son, finding a way to set things right. I’m so proud of you, my little songbird.” Looking at her son, she cooed and cupped Janus’ cheek to tilt him up to kiss his forehead, smiling at his grumbling. “I won’t linger much longer, don’t you worry. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of my future son-in-law after all! I’ll see you soon, Virgil, dear,” she called, a cool edge to her voice for a moment before she smiled brightly once more and waggled her fingers. With a dramatic wave of her hands, the Lady of Summer vanished once more.
A quiet settled over the remaining quartet, broken by a tinny clearing of a throat. Lo stood in Virgil’s lap, tugging Pat up next to him. “I believe it is time for us to depart as well. I am relieved we were able to arrive in time to prevent any harm coming to you, Vee.” The pixie looked from Janus to Virgil and smiled. “Let us know when you are in the woods, we would enjoy visiting under more ideal circumstances. Farewell, for now.”
“Goodbye, Vee, Vee!”
In a flash, the pair of pixies flew off into the night, their hands held tight together. They flew loops and circles over the others before darting off in the direction the other pixies had traveled hours ago.
On the ground, Janus helped Virgil to his feet. He cooed in sympathy, tenderly touching the tips of his fingers beneath the angry red cuts on Virgil’s cheek. “I am so sorry for what she has done to you, darling. And I am even more sorry that my own actions drove you from the safety of my side. I was meant to protect you from unearned rage, but instead I subjected you to further punishment and drove you towards your would-be killer. If I hadn’t gotten here in time-” Janus exhaled heavily, his wings sagging behind him. “I am so sorry, Virgil.”
“I mean, I’m not gonna say it’s okay, because none of this has been okay, but, I guess I can understand where you were coming from. If I were as attractive as you, I’d also be worried about people taking advantage of me.” Virgil blushed and dragged his big toe through the dirt. “So, yeah, I forgive you, or whatever.” He looked up with a fire in his eyes and jabbed his finger into the center of Janus’ chest. “But don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?”
Janus hands cupped around his own, cradling it close. “I swear, to the end of my days, I will treat you with the dignity and respect you deserve, my dearest.”
Despite the tenderness of the gesture, Virgil was unmoved. “I mean it, Janus. If you want us to work out, then I can’t be afraid that you’re going to banish me from your home every time you get upset. It’s not a relationship if you’re going to treat me like I’m disposable. I’m worth more than that. If you want more reassurance, or something, on my promises, then we can work something out, but what you put me through was terrifying, and I can’t go through it again. I won’t.”
Janus sighed, holding Virgil’s hands up to his lips and resting there a moment before slowly gathering Virgil into his arms. His embrace was loose enough to break, if Virgil wanted. “I understand, darling, and I will never be able to apologize enough for what I have done. However, it is not my words you want, but my actions, and I will do whatever you desire of me in order to make it up to you.” He cupped Virgil’s uninjured cheek. “I want us to work, too.”
There was a long pause as Virgil searched Janus’ golden eyes for any signs of deception. When he found only an earnest honesty, Virgil allowed himself to be held closer. He wasn’t sure which of them moved next, but they came together as one, lips pressing softly at first before quickly gaining heat. Then he was spun and dipped down, laughing hard as he clung to Janus’ shoulders, the fae’s wings held aloft to keep them balanced.
Maybe ‘future husband’ didn’t sound so bad after all.
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lizacstuff · 3 years ago
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Your thoughts on the epi? And the trailers? I'm loving the in love Edser! We've waited so long for this!!!
This episode was so fun and fluffy! I don't know about you, but I am enjoying the tone during this second season. A lot. I don't care how stupid the audition process was for the spot in the school, it gave us some very good comedy and a lot of USTy, sexy, flirty goodness.
And like you, I also love in love Edser!
Thankfully this episode was dominated by Edser, and with Kiraz at Granny's house we even got some alone time. The supporting characters were used to good effect this episode, Engin and Piril were the funniest they've ever been, Kerem and Pina served to poke Serkan about his mentoring style, and it was actually nice to have an excuse for Ayfer and Aydan to share a storyline again.
(more under the cut)
However, we'll start with Burak and Melo. UGH. I mean I love Melo and Elcin has done a really good job of showing Melo's heartbreak and trying to hide her melancholy behind her usual bubbly personality, but I really can't stand that it's over such a dud of a character. I know I'm a broken record here but Melo deserves better than this fool. Honestly, he's such a bland sad sack I don't really get why Melo loves him, Eda wants to be friends with him and Ayfer thinks he's so great she wants him for a nephew-in-law. Well, for Ayfer the only qualification is that he's not Serkan, so never mind that question.
However, maybe there's some hope? Before this episode it seemed certain they were heading in a romance direction, but the way he told her she was like a sister to him? Is there really any coming back from him saying that after he remembered kissing her? On the other hand we're barreling towards the end here and there's not really enough time to introduce anyone new for Melo (and no indication from spoilers that they have) and I'm pretty sure Ayse and the writers want to give her a romantic happy ending (although I'd be fine if they didn't and instead had her go off and do something entirely for herself like go back to school or travel or open a shop). So we'll see, because even with the sister line they left some room open because Kerem was the one who suggested he say that (it wasn't necessarily his own idea) and with Melo he seemed to be coming from a place where he assumed he had forced himself on her and she was angry because she didn't want it. Which we know is not true, so might be a misunderstanding that leads to something more. Anyway, I guess we'll just have to endure whichever way they go.
Personally, I like the Serkan-Kemal father storyline. I think it's a good way to add a bit of drama in the waning episodes, gives Serkan a bit of an identity crisis, interestingly mirrors his own situation with Kiraz, and it just makes sense with everything we know of the characters. Because were we seriously supposed to believe that someone as sniveling as Alptelkin sired Serkan? I mean Serkan is the epitome of BDE, he has an inherent charismatic and commanding presence. Sorry to the actor who played Alptekin, but he didn't really have any kind of presence, however Sinan who plays Kemal, does. They've done a great job of casting, because it just feels true. I believe Kemal and Serkan share genetics.
However, even before that storyline starts in earnest, it's interesting that Serkan was being a big baby, not wanting his mom with a man she clearly loves. I wish Eda would have pushed back at him a little more when he was going off that Aydan shouldn't pursue love at her age! Does he think he'll be out of love with Eda by the time he's in his 50s and 60s? Of course not! I'm guessing Eda, though, is just letting him blow off some steam and come to accept the relationship on his own terms. Don't get me wrong, though, after all the meddling Aydan's done with Edser, she more than deserves to have Serkan's opinion of Kemal negatively impact her!
Loved that Kiraz and Can found out first that Kemal is Serkan's father! Cat is out of the bag, Aydan, you can't make a deal with a 5 year old, lmao. It put a nice ticking clock on the whole thing and gave us some good comedic moments where Kiraz is speaking the truth and everyone thinks she's just really fond of the dude. Hee.
Also I enjoyed the Aydan and Ayfer moments. To be honest, I also used to enjoy their true friendship moments when we got them, like when Kemal first appeared and Aydan was freaking out and needed Ayfer and Seyfi around her, and when they were trying to hunt down Deniz after the fake wedding turned real. After so much animosity, it was nice that Ayfer recognized that Aydan was truly in distress and needed a friend and they were able to actually talk. Also we got some (mildly) funny comedy with the two of them and the school lady. Speaking of Ayfer, thankfully she finally realized some consequences to her actions in pushing Burak at Eda. She hurt Melo! Glad she finally opened her eyes to see what should have been obvious to her (Eda never saw him that way, and Melo obviously did) and apologized to Melo. I'd like it if she would apologize to Eda as well, (and Burak deserves an apology as well because she most definitely gave him false hope) but since Eda wasn't influenced by her we probably won't see that.
Switching to Eda and Serkan this episode gave us lots of good stuff. This was a great episode for showing us where each of them stood. Eda is terrified of getting hurt and trying to hold him at arm's length even while he clearly is inching back into her heart, and Serkan is dreaming of their future together, and taking every opportunity to tie them together. How much did I love Serkan admitting he was poking at Eda, and doig things to make her angry, just so she would talk to him? Interesting that he's doing it and love that he's being honest and admitting it to her. One of my favorite relationship dynamics between them is around "talking." In the very beginning Serkan did a lot of complaining about how much Eda talked and how she never shut up, but starting around episode 18 all he wanted was for Eda to talk to him. And this is just more of that. The thing he wants most is to talk to her.
Plus watching domestic Edser is just so much fun, I could watch their full grocery shopping trip in real time and be perfectly happy, lol. At the age of 35 it's time that Serkan learn how to do a few things for himself, I don't care how rich he is, so it's nice that we see him evolving a bit as he embraces the dad role.
The jealousy gambits, even as mild as they are, are getting pretty eye roll worthy since Eda and Serkan are living together, care so much, and obviously are still so hot for one another. It's a bit more understandable from Serkan since Eda is the one creating the barrier between them, but are we really supposed to believe that Eda is jealous of Deniz when Serkan is so obviously in love with Eda and planning their future together? Especially when he clearly can't stand Deniz and tries so hard to avoid her? I suppose it's to show us that Eda is in a jumbled state, her head is trying to keep space with Serkan, while her heart wants him badly and is scared he's going to take her rejections seriously. Even so it was quite irrational for her to get angry at Serkan for having lunch with Deniz when she ordered him to leave with her. Poor Eda is in emotional turmoil.
It was hard to tell with shaky translations, but I guess Serkan claimed to have been injured while rescuing Eda and that's how he talked his way into her bed? Impressively done, Serkan. Love it because it meant we all got to wake up to snuggly family, snuggling together. This gave us another glimpse into Eda's psyche, she wakes up first, and is clearly enjoying it and feeling at home in his arms, until the sleep clears enough and her head realizes she's not supposed to be enjoying it. But once again Kiraz knows how to handle her parents and their complicated relationship beautifully and fixes everything with a pillow fight. That is one smart cookie.
One of my favorite moments of the episode is when Eda is trying to convince Serkan to go to Aydan about the school. Eda knows that her big eyes still work on him, and they did. He still can't say no to her, another one of my favorite relationship dynamics of theirs. I'm super glad some things never change. Speaking of their visit to Aydan's, how great that they went to meet the horse without a name as a family, and then Serkan finally came up with the perfect name. Definitely a star.
Love, love, love that Serkan and Eda beat Engin and Piril when it came to the 'how well do you know your spouse' game. They may have been separated for 5 years, but they both have a genuine interest in the other, so they remember things, and they always made a much more compatible couple than Engin/Piril who have absolutely nothing in common. Of course I adored all the fake married hijinx this gave us, not to mention all the opportunities for Serkan to touch, kiss, and hold her. SO MUCH UST!
The heart-to-heart on the bench was well done and it finally gave us Eda opening up and telling him what's been holding her back. She's scared. Of course she is, the poor thing. Serkan might have thought he was doing it for her own good both times, but he ripped her heart out twice (not even counting all the heart ripping he did during amnesia) how could she not have fears? Of course she's afraid! Whenever she lets herself love him and be loved by him, it's ripped away horribly, and often in ways that feels like it's him doing the ripping. She can take into consideration the circumstances, which she has or else he wouldn't be anywhere near her, and still need time to be sure she's not just setting herself up to get emotionally demolished again.
For Serkan's part all he can do is keep being there, being honest with her, and showing he's in it for the long haul, which I think he's doing and which is why they are where they are at the end of this episode.
Engin and Piril's dance practice is probably the first Engin/Piril alone scene that I thought was genuinely funny and fully enjoyable. I can't think of another... message me if you think there is one, lol. Elsewhere, I saw some folks saying that Engin and Piril should have won the dance competition, because they actually danced, and Eda and Serkan didn't. LOL, you think? I'm pretty sure that was the point. That Eda and Serkan didn't really dance, all they did was get up there and turn their sexual tension and intense smoldering towards one another up to eleventy and won because it's that powerful.
It's sort of a metaphor for this whole series. Sen Cal Kapimi is 100% powered by their chemistry. Of course they can win any competition by just pressing their bodies against one another! They can turn a ditzy Turkish summer romcom that probably should have gone 13 eps into an international hit that's going on 50 episodes, just by looking at one another.
I'm glad that the school officials overheard their conversations and dismissed them, any organization that requires this of the parents, is going to be a lifelong pain-in-the ass, lmao. Also it was good to see Edser and EnPir make up by the end.
Now, on to that ending. I'm glad the subject of the tatoos was brought up, interesting that Eda kept hers until a few months ago. Also interesting that she moved it... can't blame Serkan for wanting to see it. Was that one great seduction line, or what?
I join with everyone who thinks it was a slightly awkward place to leave the episode. We only have 13 (probably) episodes this season, and we've only had one kiss so far. That was definitely a moment for a kiss. Part of me thinks they were going for the cliffhanger, what will Eda do? Will she kiss him or slam the door in his face? Tune in next week to find out! Except that audiences have to wait no time at all for the fragman and that makes any such cliffhanger moot. So what's the point? Have her pull him in, kiss him, and the show can end with them passionately making out and the door slamming with the camera outside the house.
Oh well, it is what it is, and we can only hope they pick up next week right where they left off. As for the fragman, obviously they are fully back together for this episode which means she lets him in to hunt for her tattoo. (please oh please give us that internet ozel because I don't think I can stand being online in this fandom if they don't. Thankfully I'm traveling next week and will be too busy to spend much time on twitter.)
As I said in another ask, I'm not surprised Serkan is barreling them straight towards marriage. When you know, you know, so why wait? Once they emotionally commit to one another, they need to just get married. No waiting for psychos to interfere, family to meddle, or tragedy to strike!
Seriously can't wait for a full episode of them together and Serkan figuring out how to propose. I'm also looking forward to the Kemal/Serkan stuff, it will be interesting to see how he reacts once the news sets in... should be a great episode!
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retiredgremlin · 4 years ago
Text
is shawn maybe actually psychic pt1
so I just finished watching 6x14, Autopsy-Turvy and that bit in the beginning is very interesting, from 2:13 to 3:15. The bit where Gus lays on the street and Shawn backs up, thinking through the incident presented to them.
Bob White, the victim of the current “case of the week,” was run over by a bus. The bus didn’t see him because a singular street light was out that night. Neat, okay, so Shawn is thinking through that, right?
And then we are shown the light going out, with glass raining down on Shawn, who visually reacts to it. We are shown the shot of where Gus was on the street, only it’s pitch black now. Shawn asks Gus if he’s still there. We get a glimpse of the usual “psychic recreation” then with the bus driving over the spot where the body would have been, showing how the body would be completely invisible. When whatever this is is over, we see the lights come back on and things resume regularity.
I wanna talk about this.
I wanna talk about this because this bit is....unprecedented. I haven’t started my critical analysis yet and I usually need the second pass over a series to burn everything into my memory, but I have no recollection of being shown something like this before.
Typically, we see “recreation visions.” Those show past events and have a grain filter over them, maybe a little desaturation. Notably, Sometimes Shawn’s memories are also shown this way (which hohoheehaaa is a whole ’nother can of fucking worms but let’s stay on track here-)
Let’s do a play by play here.
We are shown the light going out, with glass raining down on Shawn, who visually reacts to it.  Shawn states that [the report] says the streetlight directly above the bus stop was out. The camera zooms in on his face before cutting to a set distance away and the light in the scene is shown to flare before we hear the bulb break. The light goes out and glass falls onto Shawn. Shawn is shown physically reacting to the glass with squinting and a slight flinch. The camera zoom and reset indicate a change of scene, despite still just watching Shawn. The following events are presented to us as a physical change to the environment, one that is shown to interact with Shawn who is reacting to this change. 
The place on the street where Gus is laying is now in total darkness. Gus is now obscured as there is no light. This further enforces the physical shift to the environment. This also implicates that Shawn can no longer see Gus, just as we no longer see Gus. Shawn then cocks his head to the side, accompanied by a sound suspense sound cue. This body language is often used in media to convey confusion, curiosity, or inquisition. As someone who does this irl, I use it as a visual cue that I’m listening/paying attention if I’m unable to make eye contact during the conversation. At the very least, removing conjecture, it’s a reaction to a stimulus, indicating attention of some sort.
Shawn asks Gus if he’s still there. This is when this starts to hit home, right? This statement all but confirms that Shawn is no longer seeing Gus on the ground at all. This also confirms that what we the audience are seeing is something Shawn is experiencing in that moment. Shaw cannot see Gus currently and thus he asks for a verbal confirmation. We hear Gus respond, exasperated, saying Shawn can damn well see his face on the asphalt. Except Shawn can’t. Instead Shawn is seeing the space as though one of the lights was punched out. Shawn then comments by saying, “That’s interesting.” This is a verbal acknowledgement of what is visually happening in the scene right now. What precisely about this scene is interesting? We could easily infer the explicit lack of a visual Gus while still hearing Gus. Otherwise, why ask if Gus was still there? Notably, Gus’s response reinforces that he is not experiencing the change to the environment that Shawn and the audience are, as he is not reacting to it.
The usual psychic recreation kicks in to show us the bus running through the dark patch. Cue the typical grain filter of the scene. These visuals clearly mark the shift from real-time to flashback/past events, as the show has trained us to read this visual. This is also what we normally see when a scene is revealed to us or facts come together. The show could have just as well have shown us this flash without showing the dark street real-time, but they didn’t Why? Why is this different? Why does this call for a different kind of visual? I would assume because this is different somehow.
The recreation ends and we see the light come back on. The flashback recreating is over and simultaneous with the scene shift back to Shawn’s face, we see the light coming back in again and zooming out from Shawn’s face, mirroring how the scene started. This marks the end of whatever moment was happening.
Taking all of this into consideration, what conclusion are we left to draw from this short scene? Shawn experiences what we just saw: he sees the light flare, hears the bulb break, feels the glass fall around him, and sees the street as though this street light was out. It’s not as though it’s recreating something though, or imitating how a light would have actually burst. The light flares before popping, mimicking how a light would act when it dies. The filament grows thin and puts off a super flash as the filament breaks.
This does not mean the fucking glass shatters though. Conversation does indicate that the light being broken is why it was out the night Bob White was run over though. This is piece of the....”vision,” shall we call it, imitated what would have happened. But for the light to both flash and break? Unless I’m terribly mistaken, it’s usually one or the other that will put a bulb out of commission, not both. This lends additional credence to this being an unnatural occurrence. Given the glass shatters after the flash, to would indicate to me that the light dying somehow lead to the glass breaking? Either way, it’s a bit extreme and unusual, which plays into the entire strangeness of the scene. 
It’s like is someone grabbed the space around them and metaphysically punched the street light. Somehow Shawn is experiencing a manipulation of the space around him, enough to alter what he’s sensing in a targeted and specific manner. 
Now sure, we could just say what this scene was meant as: a visual built to communicate to the audience what is going on. Psych likes to show us how a situation is being assessed, what information Shawn is taking in and processing. But where’s the fun in that, especially with how they chose ground this short experience through having Shawn experience it.
You want to know something else I find very interesting here? 
Shawn’s response is mild.
Listen, I dunno about you, but I probably would have had more reaction to a bulb over my head suddenly bursting and throwing glass at me. I probably would have had more to say if I suddenly wasn’t seeing light when there was light in front of me, especially if it wasn’t that I suddenly lost all sense of light, but that a singular light suddenly and magically seemed to turn off.
Guess Shawn wouldn’t though! He takes this all fairly well in stride. There are two major possibilities here. One is that he’s more focused on the case than anything else so he mentally dismisses whatever is happening and proceeds until it goes away. There is precedent to him acting this way when he gets fixated on something, but we’re not seeing many signs of that here. Option two is that the reason Shawn barely reacts is that this not new or overly concerning because he is aware it is not real.
Shawn certainly recognizes what’s happening as unusual, but he is not panicked or caught off guard. When asking if Gus is still there, his voice does not betray anything strange. He is simply affirming. His “that’s interesting” comment also expresses no concern and he does not dwell on this occurrence, simply makes use of it. This leads me to believe that this is not the first time Shawn has experienced something like this. Something where he needs to see something in a different light (ha), and it just happens. We are not shown this prior because the show had no reason to concoct this sort of occurrence before now, as most investigation could be done through the physical clues given in the state they were in. This is new for the audience, but this is presented as something that isn’t really that new to Shawn.
The thing is, the vision is accurate. The vision is not an exaggeration or unrealistic distortion of the space. It is the space as is, except as if the light went out. Not that suddenly everything went dark or that he can’t see anything. To see the space as it would be with one thing different, especially when that one thing is something that interacts with everything in the space? That’s...something.
Let’s not forget the cinematography and sound cues though. With the scene starting up, we get real close and personal with Shawn’s face before the camera cuts to where it’s zoomed out again. Well, what does a camera cut indicate? Typically the shot is focused on the character relevant to the scene, whatever you should be seeing to line up with what’s happening. We were already looking at Shawn though, so what purpose does this cut serve? They wanted to shift the perspective we were viewing Shawn with. This cut indicates a change to the scene. Directly following this cut, the light bursts. This cut signified the shift from reality into the vision. When the scene was over, the camera cuts to Shawn’s face and is zooming out, clearly outlining the end of the vision. This explicitly bookends the start and stop to the strange phenomena.
As for the sound, we hear a back and forth piano tune leading up to the start of the vision. It starts just as Shawn is backing up from Gus laying down on the street and continues through Shawn noting that the report says the streetlight was out and fades as the glass shatters and finishes falling. This is a leadup, a lead in, an indication of something eerie going on. It lets the audience experience a moment of strangeness as the music disappears when we look back and see the street is dark with no Gus. We get a short violin sting to punctuate Shawn cocking his head and the recognition of something wrong here. When get a softer, deeper version of that sting as Gus responds, accentuating something even stranger going on. As Shawn lifts his arms to mimic a bus steering wheel, get a short orchestral bit that strings into the recreation of the bus driving over Bob White and concludes with the vision. This feels like a carry through, a dramatic reveal piece. 
These shots and sounds of this scene do everything to accentuate that something fucking weird is happening here. Please note that I have an education in art, not cinematography or music, so I can give an interpretation of them as a critical consumer, but I cannot speak speak to them in the manner of a trained and educated professional. Take my opinions there with a grain of salt. 
What is all of this then? How does this happen? What is this scene telling us?
I have 2 ideas.
1.) His eidetic memory is able to be used to create hyper realistic visualizations wherein the space can be manipulated.
2.) This is a preternatural vision and Shawn has latent psychic abilities.
Honestly, these possibilities can coexist with each other, and maybe they should?
This scene is deliberate, is the funny thing. The way is was shot, the way it was presented, the way the characters interact. Nothing here is a mistake, but it’s out of left field as a totally new way to observe a crime scene from anything else they’ve shown in the series. (I have only seen up to this episode, so if there’s another incident after 6x14, then neat, I’ll dissect that to when I get there.)
In conclusion, this scene leads me to believe Shawn has the ability to see, or is subject to the phenomena of seeing, space in a manipulated manner. The space mimics reality and reacts like reality, where variable can be arranged and shifted. Evidence from this incident would indicate these shifts are based on what Shawn is currently thinking about or puzzling through, showing him the scene the way he needs to see to it rather than how it necessarily is.
I, personally, would like to think this points to genuine latent preternatural abilities that tie into his eidetic memory and how that exists. Mostly because I think it’s fun that the show about the fake psychic is actually a show about a sort of psychic who doesn’t realize he’s actually sort of psychic while pretending to be a psychic. I think is an incredibly fun take to explore. Which I will later because I have a working idea of how this all connects in and functions but this has gone a bit long for a dissection of what is a minute or less bit at the beginning of a single episode.
This is the prologue to my TED Talk: “Shawn Spencer is probably psychic” and in this presentation I will-
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unsteadyshade · 4 years ago
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Hmm 52 and or 62 monochrome for the prompts
from this prompt list. a friend sent me a video, and that is what this was inspired by. i remembered your prompt, anon, and i just rolled with it. i should start mentioning that prompts might take a while, but better late than never. i hope you enjoy!
"Come on, show off those glutes!"
Blake glares at her best friend and teammate currently recording her from her phone. Unfortunately, Yang is unfazed and continues grinning. They're both sweaty and covered in grime from their soccer game, and all Blake wants to do is take a shower.
"That's the last thing I want to do."
"It's for a good cause, promise!" Blake narrows her eyes. She's too tired to overthink things, but she does notice Yang occasionally glancing behind her at something. It makes her curious enough to do the same, albeit in a much more subtle way. What she sees is a white-haired woman who looks strangely familiar despite Blake not associating with anyone with hair like that. It's only when Nora, another teammate, passes by after snatching a magazine from her boyfriend's hands that Blake remembers who that stranger is and smirks.
How can Weiss Schnee escape her mind? The woman was featured everywhere, especially in recent times with her delightfully controversial decisions as CEO of the SDC. Blake thinks that it was a long time coming, however more could be done. She knows progress for Faunus and other marginalized people takes time though, a lesson ingrained ever since she was a child. That any progress was made at all after Weiss somehow managed to convince the board to agree with her is a point in her favor.
Of course, that isn't the only reason the CEO catches Blake's attention. The press had been speculating for a while that Weiss had been seeing suitors, and not all of them were men. Granted, that could just be the tabloids looking to spin a story, but Blake's bisexual heart couldn't help but hope. She may never get a chance to meet the woman, but it's a nice thought.
Well, maybe things can change. Blake isn't sure if it's a good thing that they happen to be in the same hotel at the same time so close to each other, but the inner romantic in her can't help but think about fate. She shakes her head, clearing her thoughts. If nothing else, she can verify one thing. And even if she embarrasses herself, at least it'd be a fun video to watch back later.
Blake gives the blonde a look only able to be deciphered by years of friendship, and Yang only grins back. It'd usually be her that would suggest something chaotic, so the rare reversal is nice. Yang tosses her the soccer ball she's been carrying like a trophy, and Blake easily starts juggling it.
In her peripheral vision and with the way Yang's grin widens, Blake can tell that the woman behind her has stopped walking. What she's doing, Blake isn't sure, but she does hear fabric rustling. She guesses that Weiss has decided to lean against the wall either to watch her since they're blocking the hallway anyway. It's been a while since Blake has used her soccer skills to impress anyone, so she hopes Yang won't tease her too badly if this is a bust.
Following several minutes of juggling the soccer ball, Blake deliberately kicks it over to where she suspects Weiss is still standing. After picking it up slowly--Blake won't admit that she might have been distracted by the CEO's legs and that pretty skirt--she stands and flashes an apologetic smile. There's a pretty pink in her cheeks, so Blake thinks that she has to be at least a little impressed with her earlier show. She takes a chance and winks.
Oh, that blush is gorgeous. Blake smirks--that roguish one Yang had been caught by when they first met--and speaks, lowering her voice in a way that she'll blame on exhaustion if asked. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to block the hallway." She ignores the snort of laughter from her best friend and leans against the wall directly in front of Weiss, pleased to learn that she is taller.
"Isn't that what you're doing right now?" The CEO crosses her arms and raises a brow, and somehow Blake is the one who feels small for a moment before blinking away her surprise. Blake feels foolish for feeling this way but supposes she should've expected some level of intimidation from a successful businesswoman. Still, she's going to continue to try and impress her until there's absolutely no chance left for her.
"You could say that...but now I have a reason to keep you here."
"And that would be...?"
Well, here she goes. The moment that'll decide whether she'll get teased mercilessly or a slap on the back from her best friend. "To invite you to watch me practice."
There's an agonizing moment of silence as Weiss takes that in broken only by another snort from behind her. Then, the businesswoman takes out a card, elegantly writes a set of numbers on it, and hands it to Blake with a small smirk. "Don't text me the wrong time or location or else I'll be sorely disappointed. I'll see you there, beautiful." ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Yang is still laughing by the time they make it to the park. Honestly, Blake is just glad that she wasn't laughing more than she did earlier and sighs. At least they've showered. She hopes they won't be sweating too much. "Yang, come on. I need moral support, not any more of your jokes."
"Okay okay...just one more time! She called you beautiful, and you stood there gaping like a red-faced fish for five minutes!"
"It couldn't have been that long..." Blake mumbles, trying very hard not to think about Weiss's smirk after seeing her reaction and how much she wanted to kiss it away. A slap on the back abruptly takes her out of her thoughts, and she stumbles a bit before righting herself with a glare aimed at the grinning blonde.
"Maybe not, but I'm still proud of you! Got a number and demonstration?"
"Don't say it like that."
"But that's exactly what this is. You wanna show off for her even more than you did earlier, and I'm here to help with that." Yang's voice drops solemnly. "This is the only time I'll let you embarrass me on the field."
Blake rolls her eyes. "Just help me warm up."
"Looks like you'll have to do without that. She's here."
"What?!" Blake whirls around, and sure enough, Weiss is making her way over to them. Yang gives her two thumbs up before jogging a ways away. Of course the CEO would arrive early. "Hey." Blake greets with a nervous smile.
Surprisingly, it also seems that the seemingly composed woman is also nervous when she smiles back. "Hi."
They stare at each other for a moment too long to be considered friendly until Yang wraps her arms around them and winks at the shortest woman. "You ready to watch your girl pummel me?"
"She's not--"
"I'm not--"
"Great! Let's have some fun." Yang jogs off, and Blake isn't sure if she should be mad or glad that they're now sporting matching blushes. She clears her throat, Faunus ears flicking awkwardly due to her nerves.
"I hope you enjoy what I have to offer--not that I'm offering anything like--" Weiss's tiny giggle stops her, and Blake swears her heart skips a beat at the sound. She wants to hear more, especially when it's accompanied by that radiant smile. It gives enough confidence to wink. "Enjoy the show, princess." Blake says, the nickname slipping easily from her lips. She doesn't stick around long enough to see Weiss's reaction, psyching herself up for playing.
As she plays, Blake is focused on the game, though she does catch the occasional glimpse of Weiss watching her. The knowledge that those sharp eyes are observing her as closely as she likely scans everything and everyone else gives Blake a surge of confidence. It's not recklessness that drives her as she moves around, but freedom to fall into something--someone new.
And when Yang finally calls for an end, Blake is smiling wide. Her friend is conversing with a teammate. Meanwhile, she's sweaty but still feeling adrenaline coursing through her for a different reason as she turns to the approaching woman. Blake is just energized enough to blurt out the first thing on her mind.
"I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice."
A brilliant blush quickly spreads across Weiss's face at that, though she does an admirable job of acting like it isn't obviously there. She huffs then rolls her eyes while crossing her arms for extra effect. "Where else was I supposed to look?"
"Well..." Blake gestures to her best friend. "What about my teammate?"
Weiss purses her lips, as if considering that, and Blake hates how her attention is immediately drawn there. "She is...certainly an option, but you've managed to capture my attention more." Blake's heart skips a beat at that, and she swallows before speaking again.
"Have I captured enough to earn a date?"
Weiss stares for a few moments, and Blake can feel her heartbeat rise with the subtle upward curve of her lips. "You have. How does dinner sound?" ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Blake would've complained about having to shower for a second time if she wasn't doing it for a second date. What she definitely doesn't complain about is her date opening her hotel room door and rendering her momentarily speechless with a backless silver dress. If this is what she can look forward to by taking chances, then she figures she should take more in the future. When she is able to talk again, Blake supposes honesty is the best policy.
"You look amazing tonight."
Weiss's smile is just as amazing, and Blake is fortunate enough to confirm that their lips fit together quite well hours later.
a/n: this was so ridiculously fun. thank you for the prompt, and i hope you enjoyed!
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retphienix · 3 years ago
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youtube
This dungeon was really nice tbh, though I felt that from really early on with how hard Futaba's emotional pull was.
At around 10:30 you can see me cycling the map layers to double check I explored every part of the dungeon- something I've done in every palace thus far- and you can really tell that this dungeon has a lot of meat to it.
It's not classic RPG "Fuck you, here's a maze" levels at all, but every page of the map you see had a couple minor puzzles or enough surface area to encourage you to be thorough in looking for little treasure coves- and there were quite a few neat little puzzles brought into this.
Nothing insane or never before seen- just a lot of variety, between basic navigation to switches, to placing keys far from the keyhole, to varying levels of moving picture puzzles, to rooms made of complex architecture to make it easy to miss treasure, heck there was even a very minor but cute binary puzzle. It kept each room feeling fresh.
Beyond that, I was a big fan of the encounters here- like running into Anubis fights who demanded some more thought since they don't have a weakness and will spam death spells- and that final boss wasn't half bad either.
As a matter of fact let's ramble on them a sec: The Sphinx wasn't half bad!
It felt "maybe" a little simplified for narrative purposes- like they wanted to squeeze in Futaba dialogue and give her a unique way of interacting with the encounter instead of just becoming a party member- so ""maybe"" they stripped ideas from the Sphinx move-set to more easily fit in Futaba's interrupting forcefield stuff.
**MAYBE**, that's just what my gut says because they aren't the most complex encounter.
BUT THEY WERE A GOOD ONE!
Moderate damage, some wind element AOE (which wasn't great since I ran Ryuji), a prep-able 'big move' to defend against, even a burn phase like I've been gushing over because I love the ebb and flow of combat allowing for those!
AND! Another instance of mid-encounter planning where you toss a party member off the team for a bit to initiate a plan outside of the direct fight etc In this case you can toss a party member onto the ballista to give up a couple turns in return for forcing the burn phase.
Love that :D
Other stuff with time stamps since they are more specific:
23:50~ I always assumed that Futaba would get dragged along to join us much earlier- I even considered the possibility that the devs wouldn't tackle how weird that is- to have her explore her own heart. But to have her join in by getting the app herself WITHOUT ever having been dragged inside, was interesting.
I thought you had to be dragged inside (or be given it by Igor), but apparently something about her interactions with us has granted it to her without that. Or it was Igor, heck if I know.
Also the first instance of us seeing the shadow version of someone appear in real life... kinda.
What I mean is for every other target we "The Player" see them flash into the real world but it's obviously not real, it's just a glimpse for the player to see the shadow version freaking out or scoffing that we're gonna steal their treasure.
Futaba, on the other hand, hallucinates her shadow self in the real world and CONVERSES with them. I believe this wasn't during the recording as I believe it was the scene you see after finding the locked door in the tomb- either way.
Just an interesting thing.
32:40~ What a fucking drop by the way.
My feelings towards this plot point are a bit complicated.
Mostly positive.
The short version (trust me, a few rewrites in this) is that I can accept and even like the gaslighting narrative. I think it's pretty obvious that a group of grown ass adults attacking the psyche of a child who just lost their mother would do just as much damage as is on display.
I just kinda feel like the reveal was sudden and didn't have much build up or many details? Or rather- I guess the build up was there but holy hell did it feel like it was for something else which just made the reveal feel out of left field to me.
The narrative felt like it was building up an abuse story- it even alludes to that early on when the team suspects Sojiro before that narrative gets tilted towards the mother herself.
You have those around Futaba saying her mother is great, and we have Futaba herself remembering her mother yelling at her followed by memories of other people chiming in that it's her fault.
The story kept bouncing between us suspecting she was hurt because she missed her mother, or because her feelings around her mother were complicated and distorted because of things we didn't understand yet (alluded to as abuse/guilt intertwined).
It all felt like a story of her mother being an abusive shit-stain and like the distorted or otherwise 'not real' memories were the other voices, not her mother.- IE she was mis-remembering the grieving voices of those around her mother as being accusatory because her mind was taking in the conflicted info of everyone missing her mother when her experiences were seemingly not positive with her mother.
You know, something that felt built up.
Instead the last second twist said "She was nice! And those voices WERE LITERAL and not exaggerations built on a kid's conscious! Some adults LITERALLY gaslit the shit out of a kid to believe her mother hated her! Because!"
I mean when I heard the over the top disdain the accusatory voices had- I immediately assumed those were distortions and weren't real.
And when I heard the wide range of disdain from her mother, I figured that was 'mostly real' but exaggerated at points because of the building guilt from those other voices.
I ain't saying my read was air-tight, but it's what I assumed was going on.
Like I said, complicated feelings on this plot point. I feel like a hefty talk on invisible abuse was going on to the point of even tricking the thieves and that it was all coming ahead in the finale- and then the car swerved and said "I dunno, gaslighting. But not from her mother, like some weird third party gaslighting with currently unexplained reasoning and motives."
I'm probably sounding harsh because honest to god, from start to finish I enjoyed this chapter's story. There wasn't a sudden moment like during the reveal where I went "Wait, fuck this, what?"
Instead I had a moment where I went "Oh, huh, okay. That's SUPER FUCKED UP that they did that to her" so I was on board and riding the wave just fine- it's in a more thorough big picture moment like now that I go "But why did it go that way? We have no motivation or real explanation- it's just 'gaslighting' because 'gaslighting'... huh."
Like all the parts work to build up to this narrative just fine, it just really felt like something else was going on, and this twist was just weird evil people doing weird evil shit.
Ah well.
33:45~ 69. Nice.
58:00~ I really like this! Maybe it's worth mentioning it's been like a week break for me so maybe I'm giving extra credit for a call back when in-game it was so recent it was obvious they would call it back- whatever!
Earlier the lore was dropped that persona holders could never have a palace because, more or less, they are people who hold themselves truthfully and clearly- or something along the lines of saying Persona users are honest to themselves so they couldn't possibly distort their self-view to make one.
This small moment of Mona going "Oh shit! Not only did the treasure get stolen but she awoken to being a persona user! This palace isn't just crumbling it's DOUBLE CRUMBLING, LET'S GTFO" and I was like "That's fun! I like that!"
59:00~ So.
I wanna say "Fun exit sequence!"
Instead I gotta say car asshole.
Thank you, Persona 5.
62:00~ I liked this too~ The fact Sojiro has cared for Futaba so thoroughly over the years to have a fun little reference to this phenomena (run outta batteries) was nice, and the amusing reveal that she'll just sleep a couple days and be fine (god does she live off energy drinks? Holy hell she needs some exercise ;-; or something!)
But also I really really like this because it means if this works like the previous chapters then she's gonna be sleeping for 22 days, lmao.
Here's to those 22 days btw, I have a ton I want to get done before Futaba insta-hacks those Medjed pricks. I'd like to get a couple more confidants up ;-; please game let me be besties in those 22 days.
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doyelikehaggis · 3 years ago
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Can I ask for the WIP nudge game about the "Secrets of Scotland" story AND about "Scott gets taken by the Ghost Riders"? Thanks!
Of course you can! Starting with "Secrets of Scotland" which is one of my original stories that I'm trying to write at the moment. It started as a bunch of short stories about mythological creatures in Scotland, and has sort of become one big story instead? I'm still not sure if they're all going to be separate or not. But basically, Andy, the main character, stumbles upon each of these creatures, initally because they get lost and end up getting nearly drowned by an each-uisge, but is saved by a kelpie, accidentally revealing their world to them. Andy and their sister Lizzie then end up forced to help some of these creatures when they track them down and tell them that Andy owes them for saving their life. Now they have to save theirs! This keeps happening, and Andy would get fed up of it, but they keep making friends with these creatures and finding their hiding places all over Scotland. At the same time, Andy just really wants to go to college without having a centaur burst into their dorm.
Trying to keep an eye on Lor at all times is like trying to climb up a flat, fifty-foot high wall that just so happens to also be floating ten feet off the ground. Impossible without superpowers. She springs from tree to tree like some kind of frog.
The only thing keeping Lor in sight is the glimpse of green trailing behind her. The leaves all try to follow as she passes, as if caught up in a breeze made just by her existence around them, but thankfully, they're darker than her actual hair, or else Andy's sure they would be doomed to get lost.
There's still a very real possibility of that, as even when Lor stops moving for a moment as if to allow them to catch up, she seems to meld into the trees, her skin trying to rejoin the oak grove as part of it rather than as a visitor. Andy gets a swoop of panic when they lose sight of her, thinking that Lor's decided to call it quits and leave them to their own devices. But she reappears a moment later, back to the leaping frog-like movement, touching every tree on the passing in a kind of greeting to an old friend. She continues to speak without pause, her voice a whistle, bouncing off of the trees, and her words an almost incoherent jumble that Andy stumbles over like the forest debris beneath their feet.
"You said it wis up this way, right?" Andy asks, though still not entirely sure what "it" is as Lor dodges any actual clarification like she's doing with the patches of nettles and thistles that are knee-high all around them. Andy is not having the same success; they avoid one only to step right into another. Their ankles are crying, and honestly, they might join them soon.
Lor doesn't stop walking, but turns around and continues backwards to face Andy with a pixieish grin. The giggle that bubbles up past her lips makes Andy's stomach lurch. "Did I?"
And now "Scott gets taken by the Ghost Riders"! God, I need to get back to this one immediately because I was so into the idea. It is exactly how it sounds; instead of Stiles, the Ghost Riders take Scott. Which is a lot more compliacted for the pack, unfortunately. Now they're questioning many more things as more is uncovered, like how half of them are even friends, and in Liam's case, how he got turned. Stiles and Lydia are convinced that something is wrong from the get to, but even when Lydia gives up hope of finding out what it is exactly, Stiles swears up and down that he will find the person they're all missing. The person he loves. Meanwhile, Scott is having to deal with Peter.
Scott smiles and rolls his eyes. Without looking up from his textbook, he suggests, "Or maybe you're sublimating the stress of graduating by avoiding key milestones."
All of his friends go silent as he turns to face Stiles, met with furrowed eyebrows. He glances between Stiles and Malia staring at him like he's just grown two heads and Lydia's suspicion. At least he knows that means he definitely took a good guess.
"Psych paper," he explains, gesturing his pen down at the notebook.
There's an echo of "oh" from all of them, that obviously making more sense than Scott just making it up on the spot. Still, he's happy with himself for remembering that much. Most of it feels like it's been going in and coming straight back out.
"I hope it's not due soon if you haven't started it yet," Lydia says, and he turns back to look at her in confusion. She gestures her head at the notebook, staring at it. "It's blank."
Scott quickly looks down at it as well. He pauses, his eyes narrowing at the paper. Sure enough, it's completely blank. There isn't even a title, never mind any of what he's been writing for the last ten minutes or two days.
He picks the notebook up and flips the page. There's nothing. The next few are all the same, telling him that the wind definitely didn't just flip it to a different one. The entire paper is just not there.
"I was just writing it," he says in confusion, shaking his head. "I stayed up for hours last night, how...?"
"Maybe you just wrote it in a different book," Stiles says. "Or maybe you're the one who's sublimating the..." he pauses, then rolls his eyes, waving vaguely at him, "whatever the hell you said. Stress. Graduating. That stuff."
Scott just continues shaking his head to himself. He chews on his bottom lip and says, "Maybe."
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