#I guess she’s like a unicorn? or something adjacent
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
lo-batteryy · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Absolutely infatuated with medieval tapestry so I wanted to just doodle up a design reminiscent of that
1K notes · View notes
royal-chandler · 22 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
Got my writing mojo back after four years and just thought I'd share some WIPs to keep the spirit from sagging. *throws some kidfic into the void*
--
“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” Bianca grumps, stomping into Henry’s office with her high ponytail of curls swinging behind her. 
“Bianca, Bianca, Bianca,” Henry says back, his own arpeggio.
“I’m so bored.” And with that statement, she collapses onto the loveseat that sits against the wall adjacent to his desk, flinging her arms out with all the exasperation a six year old can muster. Which is plenty. She laments, “And it won’t stop raining! I can’t even go outside now.”
Henry turns fully to her, putting aside his manuscript and the neon orange highlighter he’d be using for edits. “I’m sorry, kit. Is there anything else you’d like to do?”
“I wanted to play with Arturo but Papi said I’m not allowed to wake him up from his nap because he’ll be fussy and then Papi would get in trouble with you. Summer’s just a drag,” Bianca says, out of school for all of two and a half days. She stretches her words out like taffy, in perfect imitation of Alex. Despite his daughter’s pressing predicament, it smuggles a smile onto Henry’s face. He hides most of it behind his hand, leaning on his elbow as he considers her.
“Well, a fussy Arturo wouldn't be much fun, yeah?”
“I guess.”
Bianca continues to pout and truthfully it’s hardly a crisis, this case of the Mondays, but she plucks at Henry’s heartstrings even so. Then and there, he decides that he’ll be devoting his mid-morning to her. 
“I’m sure that we can think of something.”
“Like what?”
“A board game?” A headshake. “We could watch that new robot movie.” Another headshake. “Or we could paint with the new brushes that your gigi got for you?” After some internal debate, Bianca ultimately shakes her head in the negative.
She’s set to start day camp in a couple of weeks but Henry sees no harm in borrowing from the activities that had been listed on the calendar sent to the parents. The first thing he remembers is, “A scavenger hunt?”
This suggestion lights up Bianca’s face, her dark eyes going wide as she pops up in her seat. “To find hidden stuff?”
“Sort of,” Henry answers because he’s hidden nothing but he’s sure can figure out a creative workaround. “I’ll make a list of things to check off—”
“Chores?” Bianca wrinkles her freckled nose. 
“No chores,” Henry tells her solemnly. “I promise.”
“Pinky promise?” She asks. 
He holds his finger out for her and she hugs it with her own. 
“Perfect! We should start now, Daddy.”
So, Henry jots down items for her to complete, switching between highlighter colors and different pens to ornate the sheet of paper while Bianca, distractedly browsing the library and knickknacks, recounts her dream from the night before in which she had been bowling with pineapples. For pins, bowling balls, or friends, Henry doesn’t find out for another five or so winding and twisting minutes.
--
“A silly face? What does that even mean?” Bianca asks, baffled, looking down at her tasks and then up at Henry. “Where are we going to find that?”
“Well, darling, you have to use your imagination.”
“Hmm, a silly face, a silly face,” Bianca says, tapping at her chin. She walks around her room where they’ve come to retrieve her turquoise polaroid camera to take pictures as they go and scans their surroundings with investigative eyes. A range of teddy bears, her penguin, her unicorn, and Doc McStuffins don’t make the cut. Instead, curiously, she pauses at her vanity, making a noise of triumph. “I’ve got it.”
Henry expects her to make a goofy face in the mirror but instead she pushes away some of her scrunchies and headbands, picking up a mini plastic square with various glittering pink hues from her makeup set, also a gift from Ellen.
“Daddy, no moving, please,” Bianca chides him, the two of them perched on the edge of her bed. At his side, her knees dig into his lap and her tongue peaks out as she uses a brush on his cheek and and then on half of his nose. A small dust cloud of purple powder emerges from her flourishes. “I’m almost done. These polka dots are going to look really, really cool with the silver eyeshadow.”
“I’m sure you’re doing a fabulous job,” Henry says. 
“Definitely,” Bianca nods. “You’ll see soon. You have the silliest face ever.”
“Well thank you, Bianca.”
“You’re welcome!”
Bianca reaches for her camera when she’s finished, instructing him to smile and Henry contorts his expression into something ridiculous just to hear her windchime laugh. She grabs the photo the second it prints out and says, “We have to wait a minute.”
The grey of the polaroid vanishes slowly and the photo fills with colour. In it, Henry sees himself presented as somewhat of an art project. Where there aren’t purple circles, are soft triangles in the rosy pink tint that Bianca had dipped an applicator into. Heavy metallic silver covers his eyelids all the way up to the line of his brow and a messy bolt of hot pink glitter bisects his face from crown to chin, paints his lips.
“Do you like it?” Bianca asks, watching him closely.
“It’s absolutely brilliant, love,” Henry praises, pressing a careful kiss to the top of her head. He still manages to get a swatch of colour on her skin that he has to lightly rub off.
“We should go show Papi,” Bianca suggests, beaming with excitement and a tooth missing from the front. “He’s gonna lose it.”
Henry heaves a great sigh but she’s so bloody adorable he has little choice but to oblige. 
--
Henry gently reminds Bianca to knock on the closed door of Alex’s office and wait for his okay before they enter.
From the inside, Alex calls out, “What’s the secret password?”
Bianca answers back, “Kookaburra!”
“When did the password change?” Henry asks, cracking open the door. 
“Yesterday,” Bianca informs him before barreling in. 
“Hey, Binks,” Alex greets happily, behind his desk and computer. With a shit-eating grin, he adjusts his glasses and sing-songs—because some things never change, “Henry.”
“It’d be useless to tell you to ignore my new look?”
“Oh, you know it, hubby. What’s going on here?”
“We’re on a scavenger hunt,” Bianca says, making her way over to Alex and slipping under her father’s arm when he raises it, nestling into his side.
Laughing, Alex lightly tugs on a wayward curl of Bianca’s hair. “And you had to find a man with psychedelic measles?”
“Uh-uh, I had to find a silly face. What’s psychedelic?” Bianca wonders, always inquisitive. “And what are measles?”
21 notes · View notes
milfsloverblog · 1 year ago
Text
Life Eternal (part 3)
Would you let me touch your soul forever?
Larissa x fem!reader
A/N: This part is still very much angsty, consider yourself warned!! The next chapter will be the last one, I haven’t decided yet if I will give these two a happy ending or not, I’ll write what feels right at that time. I recommend listening to Pictures of You by The Cure while reading this chapter. LISS, IF YOU ARE READING THIS, THANK YOU<3
warning: very brief mention of smut
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The next morning you were up before the front desk even had a chance to call in your room.
I’m going back to Nevermore, getting in my car and leaving this hell hole.
You had been awful to her, horrible even and still she had been nothing but sweet in return. It was infuriating, couldn’t she push you away to make it easier for you to leave?
You entered Nevermore’s car park on your tiptoe, scared that any noise you’d make would alert Larissa of your presence. You were about to reach your car when you heard it, the familiar creaking noise of the big wooden doors being opened.
“Were you planning on leaving without saying goodbye? Again?” Larissa’s voice reached your ears and you took a deep breath before turning around to face her.
There she stood, wrapped in a silky night robe, her silver curls falling on her shoulders and her face bare. Her chest was heaving up and down and you could only guess that she had ran, hoping to catch you before you were gone.
“Larissa, I-“ You shook your head, trying to ignore the pang of yearning in your chest. You had never seen her like this before, without her tight updo and a face full of makeup, without her armour.
She moved aside, silently inviting you in, and your legs worked on their own accord as they followed her to her office.
“Did I wake you up?” You asked as she closed the door behind you.
“No,” Larissa sighed, “I barely slept. I was making myself a cup of coffee when I heard you in the car park. Working with teenagers you have to train your ears to catch the slightest noise, lest they sneak out incessantly.” She said before disappearing in the room adjacent to her office.
She reappeared a minute later, holding a mug which you immediately recognised to be the one you’d bought for her birthday on your fifth year at Nevermore. You thought it would be funny to buy her the kitschiest mug you could find, laughing to yourself as you picked one with a unicorn and pink flowers on it. And here she was, six years later, still using it to drink her morning coffee.
You need to tell her now, before she somehow manages to pull you in once more.
“Larissa, I will be leaving Jericho today.” You said, watching her place the mug down on her desk before she took a few steps closer to you.
“Will you be visiting again soon?” You could tell by the way her eyes searched for yours that she already knew the answer to that question. She was simply hoping to be wrong.
“I…I think we should stay apart, Larissa.” You managed to push out, your chest constricting and your mouth going dry.
There was a silence then. Hours seemed to go by before Larissa finally spoke again.
“Don’t you want us to be friends?!” Larissa asked, her eyes desperately searching for yours once again.
“No!” You let out a pained chuckle at her question, something Larissa took as you laughing to her face, as if she was silly to think that you would ever want to be her friend.
You wished you could explain, tell her that being friends would never be enough.
“But-“ The woman’s eyebrows knitted together, that surely felt like a stab to the heart for her. “After everything I did for you?” She whispered, her index finger poking at your chest making you take a step back, then another one, until your back was pressed against the wall. Her face was twisted with anger mixed with hurt, and you thought it was a shame to see such beautiful features marred by those emotions.
When was the last time you had seen her that angry?
“I love you, Larissa.”
“So do I! That’s why it pains me so much that you would decline my friendship offer!“ She shook her head in disbelief.
“You are not hearing me! I am in love with you! I have been for years!” Oh no. No, no, no. You instantly wanted to take the words back.
You felt the tall woman physically recoil from you as soon as your confession was out of your mouth. There it was, the disgust you were expecting.
“That’s what I thought.” You whispered bitterly.
For once in her life, Larissa felt at a loss for words. She couldn’t understand how she had never seen the signs, because now that she knew, it all suddenly seemed so obvious.
It wasn’t right. You used to be her student and she was your principal. It wasn’t right, it went against everything she believed in, it was unethical. She knew it wasn’t right so why was she craving to embrace you?
“Larissa, look at me.” You took a step closer and looked up into the older woman’s eyes, your hand gently cupping her cheek.
You shouldn’t use your powers on someone who didn’t consent to it, but what other choice did you have now?
Larissa felt entranced by your gaze, unable to move or look away even when she felt the memories of you starting to slip from her mind.
“Please…” The woman was able to mutter, her heart beating loudly in her chest when your face started looking more and more like that of a stranger. You could feel her mind fighting back, trying its best to push you out before you could erase every single bit of yourself from her memory.
“It’s for the best.” You reassured her, your thumb brushing away the single tear that rolled from her eye.
I’m so, so sorry, Larissa. But if you don’t forget about me, if you keep reaching out, how could I ever forget you?
“Just a few more seconds.” You whispered and watched her gaze slowly turning blank until she looked at you like one would look at a stranger in the street.
“You will fall unconscious in a moment, don’t fight it.” You explained. People always fainted after getting some of their memories erased, it was draining for both the mind and the body.
Just like you were expecting, Larissa’s knees wobbled and you barely had time to wrap your arms around her waist to catch her from falling to the floor.
Managing to lie her down on the sofa, you made sure she wasn’t in an uncomfortable position that would have her body aching when she would wake up.
You knelt by her side and carefully tucked a silver lock behind her ear.
“In another world, we sit across from each other at the kitchen table and go over the grocery list.” You whispered, your thumb brushing her cheek. “You would keep my picture in your wallet and I’d keep yours in a locket around my neck. But not in this life. In the next one maybe, if we are lucky.”
Your heart ached as you pulled yourself away from Larissa, taking in her unconscious form one last time. She would be fine. And you would too. You were strong enough to remember for both of you.
You felt like you were going to be sick when you walked to the door, your hand tightly gripping the doorknob hoping it would keep you grounded. You didn’t look back as you walked out, no matter how much you wanted to. You knew that if you threw another glance at Larissa’s face, you’d never be able to let go. So you didn’t look back.
You weren’t sure when you had started crying, but by the time you had reached your car, hot tears were running down your cheeks. And it didn’t help when you turned on the engine and The Cure started loudly playing from your radio.
There was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more
Than to feel you deep in my heart
There was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more
Than to never feel the breaking apart
My pictures of you
You couldn't hold back the anguished scream that came out of you, your palms hitting the steering wheel a couple of times before you eventually burst into loud sobs.
You were strong enough to remember for both of you.
You stayed there for a moment, forehead pressed against the wheel and chest heaving as you slowly calmed down.
You would be alright. You just needed to let it all out, just once. You would be alright now.
Leaving home, you thought as you drove away, unsure if you meant the school itself or the woman lying unconscious on her sofa.
You would make sure to give Enid a call later and ask her if she could check in on Larissa. But for now, you needed to leave, and so you did.
You hid your face in the neck of the woman in your arms, your fingers buried to the hilt inside her. You didn’t remember her name. You weren’t even sure you had asked before you two had dragged each other to the bathroom.
Your heart squeezed in your chest when the woman clenched around you as she climaxed, but it wasn’t due to pride. It was a pang of yearning, of longing even, one that hadn’t left in the year that had passed since you had left Jericho again, no matter how many women you had seduced.
“Don’t you want me to return the favour?” The woman asked when you pulled away and moved to the sink to wash your hands.
You looked at her in the mirror. Tall, blonde, and yet nothing like the woman your heart was still aching for.
“No, no that won’t be necessary. But thanks for offering, I appreciate it. You’re beautiful, by the way.” You pushed a smile and gave an awkward nod before getting out of the bathroom.
You walked back to your stool at the bar and let out a sigh, rubbing your hands over your face. You needed to stop coming here hoping to find someone that would fill the gaping hole in your chest.
Sure you had tried dating. Audrey had been a lovely partner, but you had to call it off after a couple of months. It wasn’t fair to let her fall for you while you were still mourning something that had never even happened.
You were strong enough to remember for both of you.
Yeah, well, it was mortifying to be the one who remembered.
The sound of a glass being placed in front of you made you look up, silently questioning the bartender.
“I didn’t order anything?”
“I know,” the man flashed you a wide grin, and gestured towards the end of the bar with his chin. “The lady over there did.”
You turned to face the lady in question, half expecting it to be the woman you had just left in the toilet. Your breath hitched when your eyes fell into sapphire ones, your heart skipping a couple of beats.
You must have been cursed in a past life. Fate and inevitability were laughing right into your face. There was nothing else that would explain why Larissa Weems had found her way back into your life again.
————————————————————————
tag list: @bobia13 @weemssapphic @sicklygrlsicklygrl @alder-saan @kimiinou @enchantressb @evemay @reariy @dandelions4us @ctrlamira
386 notes · View notes
weemssapphic · 1 year ago
Text
in my head (series)
Chapter Nine: What If...
Larissa Weems x f!reader
previous chapter | next chapter | series page
words: ~2.1k, ao3 link
chapter-specific warnings: not really angsty but perhaps angst-adjacent?, fluff
chapter summary: The Morning After. Things are getting Real.
A/N: I am gearing up to find an ending to this story as I write the next chapters - as soon as I have figured out which chapter will for sure be the last, I will post about it on tumblr as well as update the total number of chapters on ao3. I hope you are enjoying the journey just as much as I am, and enjoy these two finally getting to talk a little. &lt;3
Tumblr media
You hugged Larissa’s robe closer to your body to stave off the slight chill in her little apartment as you rummaged around her kitchen in search of coffee mugs. You’d only been in the kitchen once or twice before, and the mugs seemed to be in the last cupboard that you opened.
There was a rainbow unicorn mug that you’d seen Larissa drink from often - you’d have to ask her about it later, though if you had to guess, you’d say it was a gift from Enid. You chose this one for her and a branded Nevermore Academy mug with gold accents for yourself, then busied yourself with figuring out her espresso machine.
It made one hell of a ruckus when you turned it on and you winced - you definitely hadn’t planned to wake Larissa like this and you found yourself praying that she was a heavy sleeper. At least she hadn’t budged when you’d slipped your arm out from underneath her (it had fallen asleep, but you didn’t mind at all) and pressed a kiss to her cheek before leaving the bed. She’d looked so blissful that you wanted to savor the moment forever - but you also wanted to treat her, so you opted for searching through her kitchen for something to cook up.
You hummed quietly to yourself as you opened her fridge, frowning when you saw that it was nearly empty - does this woman not eat? 
“If you’re going to rob me blind, my fridge may not be the best place to start.” A raspy voice directly behind you startled you - you yelped, nearly jumping out of your skin.
“Fuck, Larissa, you scared me.” You turned, placing a hand over your heart and trying to calm your now racing pulse.
“Sorry,” Larissa chuckled.
“Did you know that you don’t have any food in here?”
“I hadn’t realized.” She smirked, raising an eyebrow at you. “Good morning to you, too.”
“Morning…” You smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry about your coffee machine, I didn’t think it would be so loud. Did I wake you?” You chewed at your bottom lip as you took in Larissa’s appearance. Her hair was mussed, falling in waves over her shoulders and stopping just shy of her nipples. There was a faint red lipstick mark left over on her chin from the previous night that you must have missed when taking off her makeup - damn, that stuff stains - and her cheeks were gorgeously flushed.
Larissa shook her head, her hair catching the sunlight filtering in through the window like a halo. “No, I was awake before that.” Her smile bordered on timid and it melted your heart. You took a step towards her - you were flush against her now - and wrapped your arms around her waist, capturing her lips with your own in a languid kiss.
“Be careful,” Larissa mumbled against your lips. “I might get addicted to your kisses.”
“Would that be so terrible?” you mumbled back, trying to hide the way your breath caught in your throat. Larissa stilled, her warm breath coming out in puffs against your lips, and you felt as though time was standing still. Why was Larissa just standing there? Why wasn’t she saying anything? Why-
Then she closed the miniscule gap between the two of you, her lips crashing into yours in a kiss that was much more desperate, much needier than the last. 
“You weren’t there this morning,” Larissa panted between kisses.
Your brow furrowed and you pulled back to search her face.
“When I woke up,” she clarified at your confusion. “You weren’t in bed.”
And then Larissa Weems was pouting and your heart felt as though it had grown wings in your chest.
“Are you, by chance, a morning cuddler?” You were unable to hide your goofy grin, and Larissa’s pout became more exaggerated. She ducked her head into the crook of your neck, hiding her burning cheeks from your view.
Larissa mumbled something unintelligible into your neck, her breath softly caressing your skin - it left a little trail of goosebumps across the sensitive flesh.
“What was that?” you asked, your smile widening. You could feel Larissa’s head shake against your collarbone. When she pulled away, she was glowering at you in the most adorable way - you felt your heart could burst at any minute.
“Weren’t you going to make some coffee or something?” Larissa deflected, cheeks flaming red.
“Okay, okay, sorry,” you said, still grinning as you threw your hands up in the air in surrender. You planted a chaste kiss on Larissa’s cheek before placing your hands on her hips, moving her to the side so that you could navigate towards her espresso machine to prepare two coffees.
“Cute mug, by the way,” you teased, smirking as you handed her the unicorn mug. She laughed, her blush slowly fading. 
“It was a gift from Miss Sinclair for teacher appreciation week last school year.” Her eyes shone fondly as she looked down at the mug, before lifting it to her lips and taking a sip. 
“I knew it! That mug just screams Enid.” 
“It does, doesn’t it?” Larissa’s eyes crinkled at the outer corners. “Not many students think of their principal during teacher appreciation week. It was very thoughtful of her.”
You hopped onto the marble countertop and took a sip of your own coffee, reveling in Larissa’s joy. The blonde took a step closer to you, setting her mug down on the counter next to you and placing her hands on top of your thighs. She parted them slowly, fingers flexing against your skin, before stepping between your legs. 
The two of you were at the same height now, and you could gaze directly into her eyes. Her hands slipped underneath your robe (well, her robe), coming to rest on your waist as she pressed herself against you, ducking her head to rest it against your shoulder. 
The moment felt so domestic, so intimate - you’d never been friends with benefits with anyone else before but you were sure this was not usually part of the deal. You were almost certain Larissa could hear the thundering of your heart as her fingers began to trace soothing, absent-minded patterns against your skin.
A long silence enveloped the kitchen as you held Larissa close, playing gently with her loose, platinum waves.
Finally, Larissa’s voice broke the silence - it sounded small and uncertain, cracking slightly. “What are we doing?”
You knew what Larissa meant, but your breath caught in your throat as she spoke and you weren’t sure you were ready to bare your soul to her - so instead you feigned ignorance. “Uh, standing in the kitchen and drinking coffee?” 
Larissa pulled back just enough to glance up at you, her gaze reproachful. “What are we doing? What-” Her voice faltered. “What are we?”
“What do you want us to be?” you whispered, your voice wavering slightly.
Larissa’s eyes met your own - she looked so vulnerable that you felt your heart might crack in two. Her eyes began to mist over as she gazed at you, true oceans of blue, and her lips parted but no words came out. You simply stared back at her, a lump forming in your throat as the silence between you stretched on for miles.
“Darling,” she started quietly, and your stomach clenched almost painfully at the pet name. “I… I can’t be friends with benefits anymore.”
Your stomach dropped, your breath stuttered in your chest - you felt as though your lungs might collapse. Your own voice sounded miles away when you spoke. “What do you mean?”
“It hurts too much, knowing how I feel about you. I can’t keep hurting myself like this, and I can’t keep taking advantage of you.” Larissa shut her eyes, resting her forehead against your chest - finding comfort in your touch even when she was ending your… relationship? You felt a wetness on your chest and realized that Larissa was crying. 
“Hey, it’s okay.” Your first instinct was always to soothe the blonde, threading one hand in her platinum locks, nails scratching gently at her scalp, while your other hand cupped her cheek, swiping away a tear with your thumb as tears of your own threatened to fall. You’d never seen Larissa display her emotions so openly, and you couldn’t help the glimmer of hope that began to grow in your heart - what did she mean with “how I feel about you”?
“Why do you think you’re taking advantage of me?”
Larissa raised her head, sniffling slightly as she worked to reign in her emotions. You waited patiently until she had managed to stop the flow of tears, meeting your gaze - her eyes held worlds of sadness, layer upon layer of heartbreak - old and new - laid bare. 
“Y/N, I haven’t been honest about my feelings towards you.” Her eyes began to flicker around the room, landing on anything but you. “I can’t keep having sex with you if I want more from you than you can give me. That isn’t fair to either of us.” 
You could feel your pulse in your throat. “What if I could give it to you?”
Larissa cocked her head in question, her eyes reluctantly meeting your own. 
“What if I could give you anything you wanted?” You were breathless, watching Larissa’s eyes widen and her lips part. Her brows knit together and her eyes tracked every inch of your face.
“What if it’s you that I want?” she asked, her voice uncharacteristically small and timid.
You couldn’t help but let out a wet-sounding chuckle as tears of your own began to flow, and you wiped a tear out of the corner of your eye with the sleeve of the robe.
“What if I told you you already have me?”
~~~
Larissa had been on a rollercoaster of emotions since the moment she’d woken up. Warmth, fear, relief, safety, love, insecurity, anxiety, confusion - all stirred up and whirling around inside of her simultaneously.
Last night had been perfect - too perfect. She was certain she had never felt a connection like that with anyone before - and she was nearly certain you had to feel the same. She couldn’t just be imagining it - not with the tender way you touched her, the adoration in your gaze, the way you seemed to know exactly what she needed - taking your time to ensure she felt cherished and safe, gently slowing her down when she was lost in her own head and rushing herself. Never making her feel like she was too much (or not enough). 
But your voice had been ringing in her head all morning like a broken record: “No strings attached, Larissa. No feelings, no dates. Just two friendly coworkers who enjoy each other's company and just so happen to have mind-blowing sex.”
The echo of your words was loud and clear in Larissa’s mind. And, well, Larissa was doing a poor job of holding up her end of the bargain. So she had to tell you. 
She tried to keep her voice even, to state the facts and make this easier on the both of you. She tried to be easy to deal with - but she couldn’t keep the tears at bay, tears that she had held in for so long.
“What if I could give it to you?” you said then, and Larissa’s pulse began to race. She was almost certain she’d misheard you - there was simply no way-
“What if I could give you anything you wanted?” 
Larissa searched your face for something, anything, that she could use to ground herself.
“What if it’s you that I want?” She couldn’t believe she’d just admitted it out loud - but then, instead of turning away in disgust, you laughed.
“And what if I told you you already have me?”
It took a moment for Larissa’s brain to catch up as she processed your words.
“What do you mean?” Hope began to bloom in her chest - she was unable to control the way it unfurled its large petals against her ribcage, burying its roots deep within her soul.
She watched a blush unfold slowly across your face, watched your teeth come down on your bottom lip as you searched for words.
“I mean I don’t just want to have sex with you either, Larissa. I mean I have feelings for you. And I know you said you have a rule against dating coworkers - I respect that, really, I do. But all you need to do is ask, and I’m yours.”
Larissa’s hands found the tie of your robe and used it to pull you closer, closing the distance between you with a bruising kiss. She could hear the raw honesty in your voice but she had to feel you close - if she didn’t, she might feel you slip through her fingers like sand.
She pulled away, breathing heavily, resting her forehead against your own. Your warm breath ghosted over her face, your hands rubbed soothingly at her waist, the smell of your shampoo filled her nostrils - you were everywhere, enveloping her entirely.
“Darling?” she murmured.
“Hmm?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she chuckled softly.
“We’ll take it one step at a time then,” you reassured her, smiling timidly.
x
242 notes · View notes
evieismol · 11 months ago
Text
guy i had the coolest gt dream there was like a whole plotline
It was in a world where magic had weakened and majorly started to die out so the general population didnt know about it anymore but then it started coming back and all these old magic beings started waking up/returning
And there was like a main villain who was ancient but had been asleep for centuries called the elemental queen and she’d thrown everything out of balance when magic still existed by starting a dictatorship were she could control everything
So i guess historically there’d been multiple magical rulers who weren’t really rulers but kind of like caretakers of various magical divisions like the oceans or volcanoes and it was kind of analogous to dieties and she’d been like the high caretaker but tried to take all the power for herself and sent various beings like sea serpents into an eternal slumber like the one she’d been in
Also she was a ✨giant✨
But the gt vibes didnt stop there bc these beings called titans had also existed previously and they were magic adjacent and size shifters but when magic disappeared they were stuck in a human sized form for the most part and forgot what they rlly were over the centuries that followed
So in the dream weird stuff started happening around the world as magic started returning and we kept seeing news story about like sea serpents and unicorns and shit being seen with more frequency and everyone was debating whether it was all a hoax or not. and then i got kidnapped by this serial killer and tried to escape and fell into this cave full of crystals and the serial killer followed me. And then this magic elephant like being showed up and ended up killing the serial killer and letting me go and then i was trying to figure out wtf was going on so i started investigating and following one of the government agents who showed up after the prior incident except i was a shit spy so i was immediately found out but somehow got recruited as a geologist (idk dream logic).
At the same time i met this other girl, A (bc i dont remember her name), online who also liked g/t and we became friends and then realized we had feelings for each other and it turned out we lived near each other so we met up and she was rlly cute and nice and we started casually dating
So then i got told i had to go on this expedition w/ this team who kind of became found family to this remote mountain so i had to say bye to her for a bit and then on the expedition it was revealed we were trying to find something related to these incidents of ppl spontaneously combusting but it was rlly pyrokinesis related and they had a suspect who was from the remote mountain area and thought there might be like a pyrokinetic cult there. Instead of a cult tho we found the elemental queen who disguised herself as an old human lady at first but then we realized stuff was off and she revealed herself and was trying to kill us and we had to flee through this canyonlands esque area and on the way we found out that she had several descendants who’d also been asleep and were the rightful caretakers of the different magic regions but she had taken the power for herself. One of them was this younger guy named Oliver who had a giant merperson form but also a human form who ended up disobeying her and helping us escape.
So we got back and reported everything and then A showed up and said she’d found out she was actually a titan when i was gone and was freaking out and was like its fine if u dont want to see me anymore and obviously i was like uhh no giant gf? Thats a win for the gays?
And then oliver showed up and was like i ran away from my mom/the elemental queen bc she’s like, really mean. So the found family group was like good on ya, you can stay with us. But then the elemental queen showed up in human form and wanted him to come back bc ig her spell to steal their powers didnt work from afar and her power was weakening specifically over the oceans bc ig he was supposed to be the ocean caretaker. And we were like uh no fuck off, obviously, but then bc the oceans didnt have a caretaker they started getting all out of balance and there were giant storms and floods and stuff so we ended up helping him escape from her and go to reclaim his rightful position as the caretaker but then we would also have to say bye which was sad and he wasn’t sure he even wanted to be caretaker bc he had friends/family for the first time.
Meanwhile A and I were dating but nobody on the team knew she was a titan and they thought titans were evil bc i guess the elemental queen was secretly also a titan.
AND THEN I WOKE UP pre anything getting resolved 🥲
10 notes · View notes
ultimatebethylficlist · 3 years ago
Text
Veteran Author of The Month: September 2021
The featured veteran author for September is a well-known and beloved name in the fandom, @rckyfrk !
Tumblr media
Rckyfrk can be found on AO3 and FFN under the same penname.
When asked what got her into Bethyl and what the fandom means to her, she said:
I did not start watching TWD until late into Season 3. I don’t do well with horror. My husband would watch and I would just read a book in our bedroom or something. Well, one fateful night, I needed to get some work done on my laptop and didn’t feel like sitting in bed to get it finished, so I just stayed in the living room (our house was teeny tiny - there weren’t a lot of other places to go), and I turned so I wasn’t looking at the TV, plugged in my headphones, and got to work. Well, I glanced over and there was the wonder that is Daryl Dixon gracing my screen. I was instantly intrigued. (I believe my exact words were, “Who is that? What is he...DON’T DO THAT THERE’S ZOMBIES THERE!” and I was instantly hooked. Dammit. I found that as long as I could watch some of the behind the scenes stuff on how they make the walkers, it took some of the horror out of it and I could just focus on the artistry of all the makeup and stuff. Season 4 premiere, we had some friends come over for a “watching party,” (remember those?) and I was actually up getting refills for everyone (being the good hostess that I am) so I completely missed the hug in Beth’s cell and when I came back into the room, NO ONE THOUGHT THAT WAS IMPORTANT ENOUGH TO TELL ME ABOUT. (I thought they were my friends…) So I really didn’t start *shipping* Bethyl until “Alone.” I mean, I saw how close they were getting during “Still,” but I guess I didn’t realize what I was really seeing, you know? (Keep in mind, I was still a relatively new fan and had missed most of Season 3 and THE HUG.) Anyway, I couldn’t stand waiting for the next week to find out what happened to Beth, and thus began the ONLY time I have EVER looked for spoilers. That’s how I happened upon this crazy thing called “fan fiction,” (I honestly had never known such a thing existed before that fateful search.) I got to know some of the Bethyl writers, and someone suggested joining tumblr and writing my own stories, and the rest is history. Bethyl is the only pairing I’ve actually, actively shipped, before or after. The only two characters I’ve invested time in. The only two I’ve cried over (just ask @jbird9...hubs has seen me go through all kinds of emotions over these two). My boys can identify Beth and Daryl (they’ve NEVER seen an episode, not even a commercial for TWD, but recognize them from pics I’ve shown them.) The Bethyl fandom has brought me to meet some wonderful people, who probably know me better than members of my actual family. This fandom has been such a bright spot in my life, and has been so supportive even when the well has been dry for years (at least as far as new content from the show). I love you guys.
For her personal fic rec list, she recommends:
(Ugh. I’m really hesitant to come up with personal lists because I’ve read SO MANY WONDERFUL STORIES and I don’t want to leave any of them out, but I also know my brain and I’m not always the best at recalling names and places when I need to. I do want to give some love to:)
@gneebee [AO3] Love’s Highway and One Cold Night live in my head rent free
@piper1016 (basically anything she’s written) [AO3]
@inkinmytea (Audriss) [AO3] especially By Any Other Name
These ladies have been super supportive of my writing, and I can’t thank them enough.
I also really miss Pussyfoot by SaraiVe
is this how you say hello (in the zombie apocalypse) by the queen conquers (dastardly_dame)
Also, @leftmywingshome [AO3]
and @majicmarker​ [AO3] who not only write amazing Bethyl stories, but have their own original work published, all of which I strongly recommend reading.
There’s about a gazillion other stories that I’d like to recommend, but we’d be here all day if I listed them all. PLEASE don’t feel left out or disheartened if I didn’t pull your name from the deep recesses of my brain. I swear I’m not doing it on purpose. There are so many gifted writers in this fandom - we are SO lucky! - and I truly do appreciate @ultimatebethylficlist​ for recognizing the veterans and newbies equally.
Rckyfrk’s Works & Personal Thoughts:
Lady in Red and Man in Black Summary: It's finally the big day, Maggie and Glenn's wedding day. Beth is maid of honor, Daryl is the best man. - This started as a one-shot/prompt for Bethyl Week on Tumblr, but has evolved into becoming a full-sized story. Thoughts: I miss these babies. I had to take a break to try and get Terms and Conditions going because they are so drastically different from it, but now it’s been so long I almost have to get T & C out of my system before I can get my head back in the syrupy sweetness. Lady in Red started as a prompt (technically two) WAY back in the day. We’re talking back in the summer of 2014. The first two chapters received such a supportive response that it took on a life of its own, but it was solely from Beth’s POV, and I had Daryl in my head basically screaming to be heard, so Man in Black made its way in. The goal is to get MiB caught up with LiR, then write them simultaneously (mainly so no one knows what will be coming next and the reader gets to decide which “side” to read first).
Terms and Conditions Summary: It was Beth's first time in Atlanta by herself when the world decided to end. When she lost her way home, she winds up meeting a crossbow-toting man with steel blue eyes and a smile that gives her chills. This is not your typical Bethyl story - imagine if Daryl were more like Merle. Thoughts: I think this is the darkest thing I’ve written (and really, it’s not even that dark). I had this idea in my head for Daryl to be a lot more like Merle and all these little scenarios kept popping into my head of Beth “taming the beast,” and having them slowly fall in love despite how they met and him being a total jerk - at least in the beginning. I think there’s only going to be a couple more chapters of this one, I just need to buckle down and write them. Maybe that’s why I’m dragging my feet to do it. 
And once upon a time, I was writing a non-Bethyl story called “Summer of Learning,” which is actually kind of misleading. Back to that summer of 2014, where I was going through some fandom drama and was about to give up writing and tumblr all together when this group of Norman fans (we called ourselves his Harem...I miss you @basswipe and @unicorns-and-myblacksoul) came along and included me into their shenanigans. Anyway, they gave me the prompt “Imagine Sean Patrick Flanery is your dad’s best friend and teaches you everything there is to know about sex.” In the story, the main character’s parents are Norman and Emily, so it’s...Bethyl adjacent?
34 notes · View notes
love-killed-the-superstar · 4 years ago
Text
super late but here is day 6!! also: if the cottage was actually destroyed i’m sorry, but i combed through TOTS a LOT and couldn’t seem to find any proof it was actually fully destroyed so... please just suspend your disbelief for this one, lads
CASSUNZEL WEEK DAY 6 - TRUST AND HEALING
Interior decorating is something Rapunzel never figured she and Cass would have in common, but somehow, here they are.
To be perfectly honest, when Rapunzel decided to return to Gothel’s old cottage (or what was left of it, anyway) she wasn’t really sure how Cassandra would take the news. How exactly does one explain that they’re rebuilding your nearly-destroyed childhood home that may or may not hold a boatload of trauma inside its walls? In the end she had taken the coward’s way out and written her to break the news, fully expecting to be met with silence on Cass’s end, as so often happens when she receives news that’s hard to swallow. The fact that she returned to Corona less than a month after the letter had been sent surprised Rapunzel to no end.
(“So, we’ve got our work cut out for us,” she had said nonchalantly, climbing off of Fidella’s back and rolling up her sleeves as Rapunzel stared in shock. “Where should we start?”
“I-I didn’t think you’d actually – well, hang on a moment,” Rapunzel had replied, chickening out of the tough conversation. “Let me just find my clipboard.”)
Cass has been… a little quiet on the matter, to be honest. It’s been easy enough to keep distracted by the house; the foundation and floors have been rebuilt where they’d been torn through by black rocks, and Rapunzel had the roof rethatched several weeks earlier. Cassandra has thrown herself into repairing furniture, refitting the window panes and getting the water mill back up and running again, while Rapunzel has taken to repairing torn curtains, scrubbing mould and mildew and moss from the walls, weeding the cracks where plant life has inevitably sprung up from and filling them in afterwards. The effort to seal up the entrance to Gothel’s strange underground mirror lair takes the both of them, and although neither of them have much to say, it gives Rapunzel a grim satisfaction that the burned, smashed up hideout can’t be reached any longer.
This part of fixing the house takes just over two weeks of dawn-til-dusk of hard work, and each evening they ride back to the castle and fall into Rapunzel’s bed, too tired to really talk about it. Eugene finds the whole thing bizarre and doesn’t shy away from telling them so, but Rapunzel kind of got the feeling that he wouldn’t understand it from the moment she mentioned the idea to him.
(“Why are you dragging this ordeal out?” he had asked her one night, just two days before Cass showed up at the house without warning. “And why bring Cass into it at all? I don’t want to police your process, but isn’t it time to put Gothel behind you both and… learn to let go of the past?”
Rapunzel hadn’t known how to answer him. “It’s just something I want to do,” she had said instead. “And Gothel hurt her too, Eugene. I can’t keep it from her.”)
They don’t need to talk about it; not if they don’t want to. Rapunzel and Cassandra seem to have come to a silent agreement that they won’t push for some big heart-to-heart that ends in tears, or an argument that eventually turns into a greater understanding of each other’s pasts.
When it comes to the house that Gothel built, nothing really needs to be said at all. Right?
“I can’t believe we’ve done this, Cass.”
“Tell me about it. What exactly ignited this passion project of yours, anyway?”
“I wanted to breathe new life into this place, I guess.”
The two of them stand back and stare at their surroundings in satisfaction. There’s no more cobwebs or ivy or moss covering the walls, and where there are stains Rapunzel has thrown on a cream wash. The floors and ceiling and roof are repaired, the windows are no longer cracked and smashed, and the creak of the water mill can be heard faintly from outside. The salvaged furniture is stacked up in the centre of the room, and Rapunzel has decided that tomorrow they’ll take a trip to the market to replace the items that were too far gone to be saved.
Today, they’re focusing on the walls.
Rapunzel’s vision is a little… eclectic. Pale, neutral walls might be best, and perhaps they can be accented with floral imagery, or maybe even a mural of the cottage itself. Another part of her, however, dreams in full colour; cerulean walls, or perhaps celadon, with bright sunny yellow flowers and trees with purple leaves – and why stop there? She could paint some horses in a meadow, or birds soaring through the sky. Why not paint fairies, unicorns, dragons? Make this house its own storybook experience?
“I’m so torn on my vision,” she confesses to Cassandra as she stands between buckets upon buckets of paint, an entire rainbow of choice laid out in front of her. “I need a better idea of what to paint before I can even think about washes. Any thoughts?”
“I’m a little creatively stinted, Rapunzel,” Cass deadpans. “I thought you had a clear vision of this place when you started out?”
“I can’t narrow it down. Do I want to go simple, or do I want to completely transform this place?”
Cass shrugs listlessly, sitting down cross-legged by the stacks of furniture. “You just have to listen to your gut.”
Oh, if guts could talk, Rapunzel would be all ears. Her frown deepens as she contemplates her options. Maybe she should find a compromise. Pale walls, vibrant art? Maybe that will work best.
Hesitantly, she reaches for a muted green (the bedroom area can be a forest mural now, she’s decided, or maybe a marsh) and heads over to a wall in need of a fresh coat. Cassandra joins her, a comically large paintbrush in hand, and they paint in a sullen silence.
“So, Cass. I’m… I’m glad you came back to help me out with this,” Rapunzel ventures. “You didn’t have to.”
“You sounded afraid in your letter,” Cass says coolly, with a long sweeping stroke. “Like you thought I would be angry at you for doing this, so I thought I should come back. Besides, I… I wanted to see it for myself.”
Cassandra can be frustratingly hard to read sometimes, and now happens to be one such instance. Rapunzel isn’t sure what she wants right now. It was easy enough not to talk at first, but something about pouring some of her own flair into these walls makes her uneasy – has her overcome with this urge to get everything off their chests before she proceeds. What memories does Cass have of this place? Does it hurt to be here, even if she refuses to show it? Is there some good left in this place, parts that Cassandra might not want to let go of?
“Do you like what you see?” Rapunzel asks quietly.
“...I don’t know yet. I need a fuller picture before I draw any conclusions.”
Rapunzel feels like – hopes – she has some insight into how Cass might be feeling right now. Returning to the tower for the first time since reuniting with her family had given her all sorts to think about, and watching it fall had filled her with a nauseating combination of crisis and catharsis. After all, there were some good memories amongst all the long, drawn out days of agonising boredom and walking on eggshells around Gothel, always so afraid of saying the wrong thing and making everything worse. It wasn’t love, and her world was so small before she left the tower behind.
Even if her time with Gothel was far briefer, Rapunzel can’t help but wonder if Cassandra holds echoes of fond memories somewhere in there, as few and far between as they may have been.
“You know, when I returned to this place, I didn’t think the house would be salvageable,” Rapunzel confesses to the silence. “Given the spike tearing through it, and the way the mountain crumbled inside, I figured it would probably have fallen apart. So seeing that there was still a chance to restore it… I don’t know. I couldn’t really think about anything else, for weeks afterwards. In the end, Eugene just told me to get it all out of my system. He’s not exactly happy about it, but…”
“Well sure, the wedding will suck if you’re too busy thinking about complimentary paint colours to focus on your vows,” Cass points out dryly. Rapunzel laughs.
“Yeah, you have a point.” As she goes to dip her paintbrush again, she glances to the wall adjacent; cream, blank, inviting.
“...Do you have a date in mind yet?”
“Not yet. We’re thinking spring or summer though. We need time to get all the arrangements together, after all.” Rapunzel purses her lip. “You know, I think I’m going to start on some detailing. Mind finishing this off?”
Cass nods, and carries on in that same long silence. Rapunzel moves onto the wall. She envisions a recreation of that cottage. She’s been sketching it a lot, lately, and goes to retrieve her journal.
“You’re making a mural of the cottage?” Cass wrinkles her nose as Rapunzel leans the journal up against a beam at the edge of the wall. “So you step inside, just to see the outside all over again?”
“Well, it’s picturesque!” Rapunzel says. She lingers, paintbrush trailing in the beige she picked out for the base of the house. “Unless you don’t want me to paint it?”
A pause. “No, go ahead. Paint it. It doesn’t matter to me either way.”
Rapunzel begins slowly at first, glancing between the wall in front of her and the woman two metres away, still listlessly dragging the brush. She’s changed a little; her hair is getting longer, scraped back into a slightly lopsided ponytail to keep it out the way. Rapunzel is tempted to drag a comb through and tie it more evenly, but judging from the tension in Cassandra’s shoulders, it would probably be met with resistance.
After a while, however, Rapunzel soon falls into the trance of painting – absorbed into the gentle strokes of the brush, planning the subtle lighting and how to translate the details of the house in simple splotches of paint. She even forgets her original plight to talk things through with Cass, losing her awareness of the world around her until it is simply her and the brush and the wall, coming together to paint this fairytale home, where from now on only good things will happen and happy memories will be made and no child will ever feel abandoned or unwanted or hurt ever again–
“Rapunzel!”
Cass grabs her arm and Rapunzel jerks out of her vision, staring at her in confusion. Her paintbrush, dripping jade, is just inches from the edge of the beam in the corner. The stretch of grass she was in the middle of painting now has an uneven glob that slowly rolls down like a teardrop. Cass grips her arm tight, eyes bright with alarm.
“Cassandra, what’s wrong?”
“I…” Her grip loosens and, brow furrowing, she releases Rapunzel’s arm. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong, you just…”
“I just?” Rapunzel prompts, bewildered.
“The beam. You were – you were going to get paint on the beam.”
“Oh. Uh, good reflexes! I didn’t realise.” She laughs nervously. “Guess I got a little carried away, huh?”
“Yeah, well.” Cass mutters, stepping back. She sets her paintbrush back in its bucket and runs her fingers through her hair, uncaring that she smudges green paint against her scalp in the process. “Just be careful, Rapunzel, all right?”
“Uh, sure.” Rapunzel frowns. “Cass, are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine, Raps.” She turns her back. “Look, I’m going to get some fresh air.”
She heads towards the door without looking back, leaving the door wide open and swinging as she goes. Rapunzel watches after her, thoroughly confused, before turning back to the wall. Maybe Cassandra does hate the mural. Maybe she hates everything Rapunzel is doing right now, and is just here to intervene when things get too much? After all, things have been strange between them since she returned. They’ve barely hugged or kissed or held hands, and Rapunzel knows they’re not in the giddy, starry-eyed closeness stage of their relationship anymore, and Cass has never been huge on big gestures of affection, but still… it’s impossible to ignore this atmosphere any longer.
As she sets her own paint brush aside, dejected, something catches the corner of her eye and she pauses. There’s something on the beam. When Rapunzel looks, she can’t work out at first why it grabbed her attention; it’s just a chip in the wood, a scrape maybe, but it’s fairly deep. She only noticed it from bending over, it’s not too far off the ground… and that’s when she sees more scratches. Some are shallower than others, some more controlled and some extremely wobbly and veering off to one side. But she can make out that they’re more than just someone chipping away at wood when they’re bored. There are… scribbles, wonky bodies, twigs for arms.
The lower part of the beam is covered in a child’s carvings.
The longer Rapunzel stares, the colder she begins to feel inside. This beam isn’t the only one; there are dozens of wooden trimmings, as her feet carry her across the room, and each with the same cast of characters – a tall scribble and a shorter scribble. Mother and daughter.
She needs to find Cass.
Rapunzel doesn’t need to look hard. She barely takes two steps outside before she sees the glint of Cassandra’s sword as it slashes through the air, sparring with herself. If she hears Rapunzel approach, she doesn’t acknowledge her until Rapunzel offers, “I saw the carvings. I’m sorry, Cass.”
“Why be sorry? You didn’t know they were there,” she mutters, swinging again, and again. “Nobody did. Even I didn’t, until we started the wash. Once we were standing there, the memories kind of hit me all at once.”
“They were yours, then.” No response. “...They looked quite advanced, for a four-year-old’s drawings.”
“Well, what else was I supposed to do to pass the time, once the floors had been swept and the beds had been made?” Cass snaps. Another swing. “I had nothing but free time with the house to myself, after all.”
“Cass, can we please talk about this without the deadly weapon thrown in?” Rapunzel pleads. Cass ignores her. Another swing.
“I’m just lucky she was never around long enough to really pay attention to them. I mean, can you imagine how she would have scolded me? Or worse?” Another swing.
“Cassandra, please. Put down the sword. Let me near you.”
“I don’t get it, Rapunzel! Why did… why did I just – why did I ever let Zhan Tiri fool me into thinking she might have loved me?”
“Cass, stop!”
Cass raises her sword to strike again when she feels arms wrap around her waist, halting her in her tracks. Rapunzel clings on, pressing her cheek to Cassandra’s back and feeling her erratic breathing as she stands still, finally allowing the sword to lower gently.
“...Why did it have to be this cottage, Rapunzel?” she croaks. “Isn’t it better to leave it all buried?”
“I don’t think so,” Rapunzel whispers. “Darling, I don’t think that will work forever.”
Cass sinks to her knees, taking Rapunzel with her, and they kneel in silence as the breeze rustles the trees around them.
“I feel sick,” Cass says dully, setting her sword down in the grass. Rapunzel presses her forehead to the space between Cassandra’s shoulder blades, breathing in her smell, trying to soothe her somehow.
“This is too weird, isn’t it?” she murmurs.
“Rapunzel, it’s so fucking weird.” Rapunzel winces. Cass does well not to curse in front of her, but, well… maybe now isn’t the best time to comment on it. “You never even lived here. Why do you have this need to mold it to your worldview instead of letting it rot away quietly like everybody else was happy to do?”
“This is a beautiful place,” Rapunzel protests. “Isn’t it beautiful? Why should it have to die because of the terrible things she did? You were born in this cottage, Cassandra, that means something! Gothel was a horrible person and she made both of our lives miserable, but – but that doesn’t mean we can’t still find something beautiful in this place.”
“Not everything has to be beautiful, or even saved. Fixing a house isn’t going to fix us, is it?”
The sharpness of her words cut right through Rapunzel, and pulls away from Cass, stunned. Cass cranes her neck to face her, regret already written all over.
“You’re right. I’m a fool, aren’t I, Cass? Because I – I actually hoped it would.” Rapunzel buries her head in her hands. “Darn it, I… I want to move on, just like you do. I always think I’m over the tower and Gothel, but then when I found this place… I just thought about how good it would feel to take it away from her and make it beautiful and then some new family could live here, a loving family who take care of each other and don’t b-belittle their kids…”
Cass turns around fully, and reaches over to squeeze Rapunzel’s shoulders.
“Don’t, Raps. You’re not foolish for wanting those things, all right? I just… I don’t think painting some walls will bring you any closure. And being here, surrounded by all these things that remind us of her, isn’t helping either.”
“I shouldn’t have written to you. Eugene told me to leave you out of this because he knew this was a bad idea and we’d both get hurt from it, but I didn’t listen, and now-”
“Seriously, stop. Do not give Fitzherbert the satisfaction of being right about something.” Rapunzel peeks up at her, and Cass offers her a small smile. “I didn’t feel like this the whole time. It has been kind of fun, repairing things and putting it all back together, but then I’d remember where we were and wonder why we were doing this, and – and I didn’t know how to even talk to you about it.”
“I thought you just didn’t want to talk, so I didn’t try to push it.” Rapunzel smiles faintly. “Eugene is going out of his mind, trying to understand the logic of the situation.”
“He’s not the only one.” Cass leans forward and kisses Rapunzel softly. “Look, if you truly believe that redecorating will somehow cleanse this house of Gothel forever and give us some catharsis, I’ll trust your judgement. But only if you trust mine when I say that this isn’t the only way to do that.”
Rapunzel nods, leaning over to kiss her back.
“I’m sorry Gothel hurt you,” she murmurs. Cass sighs sadly.
“I’m sorry she hurt you too.”
“I wish Zhan Tiri hadn’t forced you to remember all of this, but… do you regret knowing?” Rapunzel asks, running a thumb across Cassandra’s cheek soothingly. Cass leans into her touch, eyes fluttering shut.
“No. I always knew something was missing, so even though it hurts, at least the pieces are all there. I just – I wish it had gone differently, that’s all. I wish she had been different.”
They sit in silence, neither sure of what else to say, and Rapunzel glances back over at the house. It stands stout and quiet, charming on the outside, but somehow she can't bring herself to go back inside. “...You know, maybe we should leave it for today.”
Cass quirks an eyebrow in confusion. “Really? It’s barely noon, and the walls won’t paint themselves.”
“It’ll still be standing tomorrow! Besides, we’ve been perfect strangers since you came back. I want to take a moment just to be with you.”
She flops back, stretching out on the soft grass and staring up at the cloudless sky above. It truly is beyond beautiful out here. Cassandra’s face hovers over hers, presses a kiss to her brow, and then she lies back beside her.
“You know, when you take Gothel out of the equation, this place is really peaceful,” Cass comments.
“If we have our way, by the time we’re done no one will associate it with her ever again,” Rapunzel agrees. “Wouldn’t it be nice?”
“Paradise,” Cass remarks, and Rapunzel can hear the wry smile in her voice as she speaks. “It would be just paradise.”
When it comes to the house that Gothel built, they’re going to build it back up, better than ever before. Nothing else needs to be said. The clouds drift on and they lie there, hand in hand.
26 notes · View notes
rmg91 · 5 years ago
Text
The Woes and Antics of Living Together-23 (END)
LAST CHAPTER! AAAAAHHHHHH!!!! I'll see you all at the ending notes for now though, enjoy the epilogue!
Previous Chapter; AO3/FF.net
@writerofberk-Epilogue! Thank you again soooo much for all your wonderful reviews and for reading!
                                                   ~*~*~*~*~*~
Early morning sun crept into a box filled apartment, illuminating the stacks of labeled cardboard and furniture sitting in the living room. In the kitchen, stood a young woman with bright pink hair pulled into a messy bun as she leaned against the counter and sipped coffee from a unicorn mug. Poppy let out a happy sigh as she surveyed the new apartment, unable to believe it had been just a little over two years since she and Branch had started living together. And in a few more months it would be their two year anniversary of dating! Sure it hadn't always been easy, they still continued to argue, sometimes about silly things, Branch still got grumpy and unsocialable and Poppy sometimes forgot she needed to step back and not push for things. However, that just made all the rest of their relationship all the sweeter. Like when Branch randomly surprises her with a romantic dinner or she decides she wants to cuddle on the couch instead of going to a party. Things were amazing and now they had a new apartment to have new adventures in. Giggling softly, Poppy continued to glance around, excited for when everything would be unpacked and the image in her head would be brought to life. Shelves full of pictures and nick-knacks, a new set up for the TV, movies and games with lots of new space to fill with more memories! She giggled softly before placing down her mug and grabbing her camera.
Turning it on, she adjusted Branch's shirt and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before pressing record, “Hey there, My Cupcakes!” She grinned widely, “Well, we're here at the new apartment! Though we still have like...all the unpacking to do.” She giggled as she looked over all the boxes awaiting to be emptied, “But I figured I'd give you all the new apartment tour before that. Like a little before and after thing.” She giggled again before moving toward the front door.
“So, here's the new entryway,” It was fair sized, nothing terribly special with a small, green cabinet already sitting beside the dark wood door. A small decorative bowl sat on top already with keys laying inside, “I'm thinking about making or finding a wall hanging to greet us when we come in. Next is the new kitchen!” Poppy spun around and showed the kitchen as a whole. Larger than their previous kitchenette, it had dark brown cabinets and white counter-tops, a small island in the center with the stove and fridge against the wall and the sink nestled into the island. The table Poppy had was sat against the dividing wall, a few boxes sitting on top. The dividing wall was large with a 'window' in the center to see out into the living room. “Let's see...we're thinking about adding a little extra cabinet here,” She gestured to beside the table, “To keep either extra dishes or act as an extra pantry. Also might get some new shelves and display my mugs cause Branch says I have sooo many of them.” She rolled her eyes behind the camera. She did not in her opinion have that many but she had agreed that displaying the ones she wasn't using would be fun.
Another lighthearted giggle and Poppy scurried around the corner to show off the new living room, “So, just take a second to imagine a big, entertainment center, here,” She gestured to the wall the TV was currently sitting up against, “With all the game consoles underneath. Branch will probably insist we start putting that together today... Next!” She spun around to show off the other large, empty wall, other than a plain white door, “The new display wall will be here. Lots of new room to have more pictures~! I'll show you guys what's in there in a second,” She pointed to the door before making her way to the sliding glass door, “But first, take a look at this!”
She opened the door to the small, intimate balcony to capture the sight of the rising sun over the small colorful town. She sighed contently before speaking, “There's nothing quite like the sunrise over your hometown, is there?” She honestly still couldn't believe they were back in Trollington. Poppy turned the camera around and spoke into it, “Now, don't get me wrong. I'm gonna miss Bergenville and going to university there and being able to see Bridget and Gristle more often but...Branch got such a great opportunity here, we had to come home!” Reed had offered him a management position at the newest location of Clever Camping and after talking it over with her, Branch had agreed. “Plus, I'll admit...It'll be really nice to be able to see my dad more often.” And Fuzzbert too of course. She had thought briefly about talking to Branch on bringing Fuzzbert to live with them but she hadn't wanted her dad to get lonely. “And! I've actually gotten a really good job offer too!” She giggled, “Yup! You all are looking at Trollington's newest party planner~ I'll be working adjacent to Sky Toronto and I'll give you all the full story in my next vlog. Now-” She went back inside and after closing the sliding door, opened up the wooden one next to it.
“Here is my new craft room!” Inside what was clearly a smaller bedroom was most, if not all of Poppy's craft supplies, all awaiting to be arranged and sorted how she'd want. A small window sat on one wall, where a desk painted with flowers and stickers sat. “I'm still deciding how I want everything but I'm thinking scrapbook stuff here and paint stuff over here.” She pointed as she spoke, mapping it out mentally and thinking she might need a few new containers. “Maybe a nice big display shelf right in the middle for some of my best work! Still deciding. Let's see....”
Poppy wandered out the room and bee lined for the hallway, dodging boxes here and there, “The new bathroom. Not too much to see but I am excited for that big tub and all the bubble baths.” She giggled before quietly approaching the last door, “And now for the bedroom~” Opening the door, she crept inside and showed off three walls, featuring the closet, her and Branch's dressers, her vanity and another large window with some curtains haphazardly thrown up to block the sun. “Not too much to see, except of course...” She turned around the focus on the last wall where the bed had been placed and the sleeping man in it.
Branch was asleep on his stomach, face buried in a pillow with the sheets wrapped around his waist, leaving his bare back in all it's tawny glory for all to see. He breathed rhythmically and Poppy couldn't help giggling as she said, “I get to wake up to that every morning~”
Suddenly Branch shifted and mumbled into his pillow, “-Ou bet'er not be filmin'...” Before shoving his head under said pillow.
“Oops, gotta go! See you all later~” She giggled as she pressed her hand to the lens and turned off the camera. After placing the device down, she happily crawled back into bed beside her grumpy boyfriend, “Aww, don't be such a troll. You know I love showing you off.”
Branch grumbled something unintelligible before surprising Poppy by wrapping an arm around her  waist and pulling her close. She squealed and laughed as Branch buried his face in her shoulder, holding her close. She let out a happy hum as she began to run her fingers through his hair, he'd need a new dye job soon, as he breathed a content sigh and nuzzled against her. They laid like that, in a comfortable silence, happily in each others embrace for a few minutes before Branch broke the silence.
“How and why are you up so early?” He had thought between both the moving and the couple of housewarming shots they had last night, Poppy would have wanted to sleep in.
“Mmm...Guess my responsible boyfriend has corrupted me to getting up early.” She said cheekily, “Also I had to use the bathroom. Then I just decided the coffee maker need to be plugged in.”
Branch hummed, making no move to remove himself from around her, he just wanted to stay right here for a little while longer, “Let's just stay here. I'm not looking forward to unpacking all your stuff.”
“Hey!” Poppy laughed, “You have a good amount of stuff too!” She playfully poked his head, “So no whining about the unpacking. And the sooner we unpack, the sooner we can have a little apartment warming party!”
He groaned and tried to bury his face deeper into her shoulder, whining, “Nooo. No party.” He did not care how childish he had just sounded, Poppy was clearly rubbing off on him, he just wanted to enjoy having his adorable girlfriend all to himself in their new apartment for a little while longer.
“Branch!” Poppy giggled, knowing he didn't quiet mean that, “You promised!”
He heaved a sigh before finally pushing himself up and hovering over her, “Yeah, yeah, I know.” While it was still true he still didn't enjoy large, loud parties, he truly didn't mind small get togethers with their friends now and again. As long at they didn't get too out of control. He smirked down at her, “Didn't mean I couldn't try.”
She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck, “I know~” She then pulled him for a deep, long kiss. “Mmm...Good morning~” She hummed when they parted.
“Morning,” He said back softly, nuzzling his nose against hers, “Love you.”
Poppy giggled sweetly and smiled up at him that special look he never got tired of seeing, “Love you too~”
Branch continued to rub their noses together before dipping down and kissing her again. Poppy sighed, kissing him back and sank into the mattress, letting his weight settle on top of her. Branch tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss as Poppy invited his tongue into her mouth. Poppy hummed as she arched into Branch, one hand in his hair and the other trailing lightly down his chest before he pulled away. Branch peppered a few extra kisses across her cheek and down her neck before nuzzling his face into his shoulder with a content sigh. Poppy happily hugged him to her, fingers toying lightly with his hair as they laid there in comfortable silence.
“Hey,” Branch said after a few quiet moments. His thoughts had gone back to something he had been thinking about recently and now that the craziness of moving was mostly over, unpacking wasn't as stressful as packing was, he thought maybe now could be a good time.
“Hmm?” Poppy responded, having started to feel the pull of dozing off. Branch's wonderful warmth and scent surrounding her was making her sleepy again.
“Let's go out tonight.” He said, shifting to look at her, “To celebrate moving in.”
Poppy cracked her eyes open with a giggle, “Really?” When Branch nodded she grinned up at him, “Okay~ But first, a little nap. I'm comfy now.” She made a point of trying to snuggle deeper into the pillows as she closed her eyes again.
Branch chuckled and resumed his previous position as he breathed a mental sigh of relief. He hoped she didn't feel the sudden spike in his heartbeat as he began to think of all the different scenarios on how tonight could go. He could very well chicken out in the end, she wouldn't know but there was something about that thought that just made Branch shudder. No, no chickening out no matter what, he'd been wanting this for almost his entire life and having Poppy forever in his life was finally in his grasp. He'd had the ring for weeks already. He was going to ask her and he just hoped beyond hope that she said yes.
She did.
                                                  THE END
                                               ~*~*~*~*~*~
TA-DAH!!! IT IS COMPLETED!
Okay, yes, it may end a little abruptly as the beta pointed out but I also didn't want to drag it out very much either. ANYWAY! LOOK! I ACTUALLY FINISHED A MULTI-CHAPTERED FIC! I can't tell you guys just how awesome this feels, I've been working on this since January!! And I couldn't have done without all your wonderful comments! (and buffer chapters, those saved my butt a couple of times lol!) Anyway, thank you all so, so, Sooooooo much for reading, enjoying, commenting, faving this fic, it makes my heart happy to know you all enjoyed it as much as I did! Was there a few things I wish I'd done differently? A few but not much c:
So now that this is done, I am going back to writing oneshots for the foreseeable future cause I do not have it in me to any more multi-chaptered fics for a while lol! I'll probably eventually post some bonus scene's somewhere but until then I bid you all adieu~
22 notes · View notes
crazytxgradstudent · 5 years ago
Text
If I Was Your Vampire (pt 8)
I crept down the hall, wincing with every noise my feet made on the carpet and then on the wood, until I found his room. Tucked at the end of the hall, he had the largest room, and I’d only ever been in it one time. One time I’d tried to snoop, and Vlad had forbid me from ever entering again. This time, I respectfully knocked and waited.
The door opened, and Vlad was there.
I gulped, seeing him shirtless, clad only in sleep pants that were slung precariously low on his slim hips. It was odd, this strong, immortal creature wearing Saints pajama pants. His chest, while not overly wrought with muscle, was lean and sculpted, and dusted with a dark thatch of hair that spread from one side to the other, and down to the waistband of his pants, where it disappeared. I forced a smile around my embarrassment at catching him so underdressed. All my childhood –and sometimes adult fantasies –flooded my brain, reminding me that he was very much everything I’d ever imagined in all my wildest dreams. My eyes met his, and I found he was watching me. Warily.
“Can I stay with you?”
“Sarah, I don’t think it’s—”
“I can’t stay alone here, tonight.  I can’t. I won’t pressure you and I won’t jump you. I swear.” My attempt at levity fell short, and his frown grew. I wiped the fake smile from my face, quickly allowing the sadness to replace it. “Please, Vlad. I can’t stay here alone. Not tonight. It’s too quiet, and I can’t stop crying. Please.”
With a sigh, he opened the door wider and I stepped in, passing easily under his arm. It was just as I remembered. Dark and luxurious, his walls painted black and curtains even blacker to drown out the light. No way of telling whether it was night or day. I walked to his bed and crawled in and settled. I looked up to see Vlad stood there, his arms crossed over his chest, and lips slightly parted as he watched me. For someone so incredibly dangerous, he looked very much afraid. On guard, even.
I blinked back at him. “What?”
“By all means, make yourself at home,” he shook his head as he walked over to the large couch along the wall. He promptly lay down on it, and turned over. Much to my dismay. The whole point in coming over here was so that I wasn’t alone. I called to him.
“Get over here.”
“Perfectly fine here. Go to sleep,” came his muffled reply.
“If you don’t come over here, I’ll come over there, and that couch is way smaller than this bed, and then you’ll really have to be close to me.”
“Sarah…”
“Vlad….”
Silence. I huffed.
“Vlad….” I called again, and hid my grin when I heard him shuffle and turn over. He was mad, I just knew it.  
“Vlad. Vlad. Vlad.” I obnoxiously repeated, until finally I saw him sit straight up. He threw the covers off him and jerked up from the couch. He was so annoyed, I could see. Satisfied, I lay down and stared up at the ceiling, listening to his feet as he padded over to the bed. He crawled in on the far side and lay with his back facing me. I scooched over, getting as close as I dared, and pressed my shoulder at his back. I knew he would be cold, but I needed his comfort.
“Thank you.” I smiled.
“Go. To. Sleep.”
Minutes passed, and no sound came from him. He didn’t breathe, he didn’t snore, he didn’t even stir. I brought a finger up to my mouth and began chewing on my nail. Vlad gave a long-suffering sigh.
“That is a disgusting habit.”
“You’re one to talk, aren’t you?” I quipped.
Another sigh from him, and a kick of his feet as he moved under the covers. More minutes passed, and more of my fingernail got chewed up, and then I moved on to the next one. I needed to remove my fake nails to make way for new ones anyway. I started chewing, louder.
“Why are you the way that you are?” His voice was so laden with irritation, that I couldn’t hide my laugh and I had to let it out. This earned another annoyed sigh from him, and another kick of his feet at the end of the bed. “I really think your purpose in life is to drive me insane. And let me tell you, you are doing a splendid job.”
“Just turn over and talk to me then.” I turned over on my side and stared at his broad back. Willing him to do as I asked. Finally, he relented, and rolled over. His dark eyes glinted in the dark, and I could see his mouth was set in a tense line. “See? Not so bad, right?”
“This is ridiculous.” He closed his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Why? Do you want to bite me? Am I too close?” I leaned up on my elbow. “I can get closer.”
“Stop. Fucking hell, just stop. Please.”
I lay there, watching him try and feign sleep, but I knew he was faking it. I studied his face as best as I could in the dark, smiling at the creases at the corner of his eyes. The deep lines etched around his full lips. The way his dark brows were bunched together in annoyance. The wayward tuft of dark hair that had fallen over and onto his forehead. I had to fight myself to not reach out and press it back into the rest of his hair where it belonged. I wanted to touch him. I blinked a few times, realizing again how much I had missed his face all these years. How much I had missed him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call you more.” My mood shifted, and the sadness crept back in. I tugged the blanket up to my chin, suddenly feeling very small.
“You were busy.” His eyes, still closed, as he spoke.
“I wasn’t that busy that I couldn’t call. That I couldn’t visit.” I hiccuped around a fresh sob. I really thought I was done crying. “And I should have called her more. I just always thought there’d be more time. That I could just come back later, you know?”  
“Sarah, there’s no need for an apology.” His eyes had opened, and he was staring at me. I stared back, barely breathing, and then he gave that old heartbreakingly familiar tease of a smile, and I knew we were okay. The one that made his eyes crinkle at the corners, and I knew he was no longer mad at me.  At least for now. I smiled back.
“Why are you trying to justify your actions to me?” He quietly asked. “We all knew that you were going on to live your life as any young person should. We expected it. And we were happy for it.”
“I don’t know. I guess I feel guilty,” I shrugged under the blanket. “I mean, I came in out of nowhere, and you paid for everything, and then I just left, and never looked back.” My shoulders hunched again. “I just feel guilty for not being here. Angie didn’t deserve me leaving her like that.”
“Despite being in my service, Angie had a great life. And she loved you, and she would’ve never held it against you, you living your life. She told me so, many, many times over. But she was happy here, Sarah. Rest easy in that knowledge. She kept my secrets, and I looked past hers.”
“What secrets?” I asked.
“When I found her, she was nearly dead from a meth overdose down on Canal Street.” Vlad explained. “My intent, of course, was to satisfy my appetite with her, but I’m not overly fond of drugs.”
“So, you saved her? Why?”
“I suppose I did. And I don’t rightly know why.” Vlad ran a hand over his cheek. “I’ve only ever allowed a handful of people to live once I’ve…identified them. Angie was one of them. And I’ll probably never know why. Maybe it was nothing more than I did it because I wanted to see if I could. A challenge, if you will.” He smiled again. “One does tend to get bored after being alive for so very long.”
My words to my therapist played over and over in my head, my way of describing this man behaving in the most unorthodox way as I talked about a damn lion. My theory was true: He was capable of caring about someone outside of himself. I would never be convinced otherwise.
“And my grandmother was another?”
“She was, indeed.” Another smile from the vampire.
“Will you tell me about her?” I asked, my voice sounding so small and childish. I swallowed the lump lodged in my vocal chords. “I only met her a handful of times, and it was when I was very young. Most of the times I can’t even remember. The one time that I can kind of remember, it was after my mother died. My dad and I –we’d gone on a plane, I remember, and I met her at the airport. She met us there, and I wanted to go with her, but my dad wouldn’t let me. And so, we stayed at the hotel, us in one room, and her in the other, and that night, I snuck out and went to her room and stayed with her. I don’t remember much, except my dad being so pissed and lots of yelling. We left the next day. And I never saw her again.”
“So that was you that day,” Vlad murmured, more to himself. I perked up.
“What do you mean?”
“I followed Sarah Ann into town that evening. She said she was meeting her family, and my interest was piqued. She was very out of sorts, which was never normal for her to be so. I knew her daughter - your mother- had died, and she was distraught, but she was usually very composed. At least not that I’d seen. Maybe I was bored. Maybe it was just curiosity. I don’t know.” He turned his head to look at me, that same smile tugging at his lips. “But I saw you, little one.” He nodded. “Yes, I saw you that night, creeping from your room to the one adjacent. Walking as if you owned the whole hotel.” He smiled. “I believe you were wearing a pink unicorn shirt, and…purple sleeping pants? I saw you and your grandmother, my Sarah and her Sarah, tucked away in her bed, watching some silly show on the television while you ate ice cream, I believe? Do you remember?”
I nodded that I did.
My eyes welled with tears at the memory, something I’d forgotten mostly due to my age at the time, and now Vlad had just given it back to me in such strong detail that I felt my heart aching in my chest. Vlad pulled me to him, situating me so that I was resting against his side, my head on his chest, and he hugged me. Tightly.
“You’ve always been there,” I sniffled.
“I suppose I have.”
“Do you want to know what was in the letter from my grandmother?” I shifted so that I could fit under his arm better. He shifted also, resting his hand at my hip. I lay my head on his chest, my cheek cooled from his skin, and my mind sort of reeling at the fact that I didn’t hear a heartbeat underneath. Despite that, laying in his arms like this felt so incredibly natural to me, when by any right, it shouldn’t have. For whatever reason, we just seemed to fit together.
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.”
“Well, she explained that she was unable to come get me due to her husband. That she’d also been abused for a long time, but that you’d handled that for her.” I looked up at Vlad, and saw the smile quirk up his lips.
“Ah yes, I remember the disgusting taste of him. Go on.”
“Yeah, so anyway, she said after my mom died, she wanted to come, but she couldn’t leave you. And she knew that my dad would never let me go with her. And she said that at one point you got really sick, I guess from that bad blood, and she stayed on when everyone else left to take care of you. She said she owed you for taking her out of the situation with my grandfather.”
“Sarah Ann was an amazing woman,” Vlad murmured softly.
“And so, she said that when she developed pancreatic cancer, she knew she didn’t have much time left.”
Vlad stilled under my words, and the rhythmic caress of his fingers against my hip stopped. “She what?”
“She didn’t tell you?”
“No. She had cancer?”
“Yes, pancreatic. And very bad.” I grimaced as I tucked my head under his chin again.
“It’s why she went so fast, then,” Vlad mused out loud. “When I noticed how sickly she looked, I begged her to go and see a doctor and she refused.” He scratched at his jaw. “How could I have not known?”
“Well, did you bite her?”
“Never.” Vlad was emphatic. His thoughts turned back to the fiasco with Zoe, his first real taste of poisoned blood, and he grimaced.
“Then how would you know?” I snuggled into his chest. “She said she was old and was too tired to fight anymore. But she felt that she’d given you enough of herself that you would return the favor and take care of me.” I smiled. “And yes, she loved you. She spoke of how handsome you were, and how she wished to have met you when she was ‘in her prime’.” I giggled and Vlad chuckled underneath me.
“She said that you were a good man. And even though you’re a vampire, she said you still had good in you. And that someone just needed to drag it out.” I looked over his face, smiling at the deep creases at his lips and the lines of his jaw. “She said that I needed to try and see past the vampire and try and see the man. And that you needed to see that you could still exist in this world, just as you are.”
“Don’t.” One word from him.
“Don’t what?” I scooted up so that I was on his chest, and peered down at him. I held his gaze with mine. “She saw the good in you. And I know there’s good in you.”
He pushed at me, and I rolled off, allowing him to get up. He paced along the side of the bed, running a hand through his hair and then along both his jaws. His hair was sticking up, and he was so out of sorts with agitation, his frustration so obvious. I sat up, pulling the blanket up around my chest.
“Why can’t you accept that just maybe, just maybe things don’t have to be what you’ve always thought they were?” I was also frustrated. “I mean, you can go in the sun. You don’t sleep in a coffin. The only difference between you and me is that you drink blood and live forever!”
Vlad stopped, his back to me. “And if I was pushed hard enough, and if I was thirsty enough, I’d drink your blood, just the same as anyone else’s’.” He turned to me, his eyes pleading. “Can’t you understand? That yes, maybe I want this and maybe I want you, but I can’t have it? That you can’t have this…”—he gestured between us wildly— “…whatever this is!”
“Vlad, listen to me. Please.” I went up on my knees, blanket still at my chest. “My grandmother lived with you. I lived with you for almost 3 years. Never once did you try to hurt me. And I had periods, every month. I know you know that. You lived in a houseful of women, and every month, it’s the same. Not trying to be crude, but blood is blood right? And you were around it. I cut my fingers and my lip while here. I had nosebleeds. And you never tried to hurt any of us. Why would you live with a bunch of women if you didn’t think you could control yourself?” I crawled to him, to the edge of the bed. “And I’ve known you for almost 10 years now, and only once have I ever seen you lose control with me. And even then, you fixed it! You calmed yourself down, and we were fine.” I crawled off the bed and stood before him. The blanket fell away as I pressed myself against his rigid form. My hands snaked around his bare waist and met at his lower back.
“Sarah, please don’t.”
I pressed a kiss at the center of his chest, and then nuzzled the coarse hair there. I didn’t care. My emotions were wild, a mixture of grief, and lust, and forbidden desire that had been tucked away for so very long. I had wanted this man, this creature, for so long, and if I had to die to experience it one time, then so be it. Another kiss, this one a little bit longer and a little bit harder. Vlad’s strangled groan gave me courage, and I leaned up as far as I could and kissed his collarbone. His hands came around my back, and I could feel the sharp points of his nails as they dug into my skin. His entire body had gone rigid, stiff as a board, and I felt like I was pressed up against a wall. He was so very hard. I kissed him again, daring to trail my lips across the hard smoothness of his chest, delighting in the rough hair that lay across the muscles of his chest as my fingers explored him for the first time. I spread my fingers and slid my hands up his back...
“I’m asking you to please don’t do this…” Vlad whispered as his hands tightened at my back.
I looked up, and saw that he was looking away, the muscle in his tense jaw ticking under his skin, and I knew I had to stop. That was a no, plain as day. With a lump in my throat, I peeled myself away from him, and slunk back. Without another word, I left his room, and dejectedly made my way back down to mine.
For the first time ever in that house, I locked the door behind me that night.  
2 notes · View notes
noxus-the-venomous-blog · 6 years ago
Text
Part 2.02 KICK THE WORLD FACE
"YOU MOCK MY LAIR?!" Noxus grabbed the man by the collar. "You dare come into my place of dwelling with lll words?!"
"We're really doing this?" Big problem asked with a sigh as he watched his smaller friend building up steam to torment the man in his clutches.
"I will reach inside of your meager brain."
"Yeah now I know we're definitely doing this." BP sat down, awaiting a long monologue.
"And when I'm finish twisting and turning every spark in your meager mentality…"
"Oh come on this is often the funnest part of the day!" Tranquill said to big problem, poking him in his gorilla like shoulders.
"...and when all that's left of your brain is the shallow pleadings of a child's mind you will kiss my boot and beg for me to end your life."
"Dude I'm not even the one who gets to keep the rent money I just collect it. The management decides the when the inspection happens! They only pay me like 50 bucks a month," the young man grumbled, held tight in the rubber fists of Noxious.
“Is it worth your life?” “Fine dude we can do the inspection next week. You need to be on medication bruv,” he remarked as noxious loosened his grip on him.
“The whole world needs to be on medication…” Noxious said slowly as the man walked away. He then turned around to face his audience who was already snickering at him “That was Jeff, the supers assistant. Good kid. So let's get down to business”
“To COMPLETE! The PUN!” Tranquill shouted, smiling widely. Her joke found no success however, in a crowd where one was too old for reference and the other was too uncultured.
“Is this really the place to talk… Private? Like that dude weird girl across the road has been sitting there filming you for the past twenty minutes.” BP pointed across to the set of parallel storage containers on the other side of the lot.
“That's um…. That's my PR TEAM! FOR FILMING PROPAGANDA!”
“YO BIG GUY TAKE OFF YO PANTS!” the woman yelled.
Big Problem shot her a puzzled look. “Lets go to my place Nox. This place smells like raccoons and sadness.”
“You have a place?” Tranquill asked as she grabbed her coat.
“Yeah of course. Do you guys think i only exist in the world to help ya then when i'm done i teleport to another dimension and sit around waiting for you to need help again??” “That would be very useful” Noxious replied.
“SHAZAM!” Tranquill added.
“Well that's not my power. Although i met a guy like that, nice dude, gay as a rainbow on a unicorns butt, now can we go to my place?”
“That's homophobic” Tranquill accused.
“Im quoting the guy, besides i'm a villain, social standards are the laws i’m LEAST worried about breaking.”
“We shall ride to your lair and resume our business there,” decided Noxious, “Um…. we need a ride though.”
“Heh… I'll bring the truck around but you’re going to be a little cramped.”
The truck putted down an empty highway, bellowing black smoke out from its aged, rusted exhaust. It slipped and stumbled in momentum each time Big Problem had to jam the clutch down and shift. The old metal shifter smacking into Noxious’ leg every time the lowest or highest gear was used. Tranquil, leaned in on Noxious’ shoulders affectionately, squishing him closer to BP who already took up most of the truck.
“Ok so we can start talking now. I need to know how seriously you two take this. How focused are you?”
“I take it very seriously,” Tranquill said.
“Well now you do,” Noxious contradicted.
“Well ok sure for the first few months i was pretty sure we were larping but im totally caught up now. I share his passions for this world and this work. I agree with every word of his personal diary.”
BP raised an eyebrow. “You guys share your diaries?”
“Define shaRE-” Noxious was cut off as first gear needed to be used again.
“What you two need is money.”
“We’re not greedy though,” Tranquil rolled down the window slightly, noticing her boyfriend sweating a bit due to his awkward seat status.
“OF COURSE YOU’RE NOT! You’re poor. Greed is a rich man's game. Look you don't have to have a mansion in the hills, but no one accomplishes change in the world without money. I know a guy who works for a place. That's not me being coy that's literally how you refer to his business. Anyway, he can really make the difference for you guys. How do you currently wash your money?”
Noxious spoke up before Tranquill could make a joke, “we basically don't. But we don’t make enough to require it. We have been seeking out some form of fence for jewelry or other valuable things that are easy to sell.”
“That’s adorable. Yeah just sign up at the evil guildhall and they introduce you to ye olde jewelry fence. Look little guy...”
“I AM AVERAGE SIZE!!!”
“That's why you’re sitting in the middle then?” BP says as he rams the shifter into Nox’s leg and slows at a stop sign “Anyway, hear me out. You don't just run around town looking for random junk worth money, you’re a villain not a crackhead. You need to talk to the right people, the ones i'm going to introduce you to, and find out what they would want. Sometimes it’s an object, sometimes it’s a service. Sometimes it might be something right up your alley like gassing someone or making menacing threats.”
Tranquill chimed in, “this is what we need, he makes so many menacing threats for free currently.”
“Exactly. Now if ya find a bar of gold on the ground, or happen upon a car made of diamonds, then sure you bet your ass you take it and just give it to the guy and he’ll give you credit. But nothing compares to what you can make by finding them just what they need at a given time… Ok we’re here.”
The truck pulls up to an old iron security gate. Before them is a long driveway, weaving through clusters of lavish landscaping. He presses a button on the worn out sun visor then shuts it as the fabric nearly tears. The gate in front of them opens and he begins driving through.
“Wait… When… What…” Noxious stuttered, “ARE WE ROBBING SOMEONE RIGHT NOW?!”
“Yeah cause if we were, im wanting you to just scream about it,“ BP joked, “no this is my house, and it's nice to know you seeing it makes you want to rob it. Guess i'm doing a good job with it. Were gonna pull around back, wait, how the hell would i have a gate opener for a place i'm robbing?”
“I don't know…. Stole it ahead of time? Hacked it?” noxious knew he was digging his own grave deeper.
They pulled around to the back of the quite sizable home and into a ramp leading to a parking garage, one story below ground. This presented a stark contrast to the lush gardens they had recently passed. This basement was empty and plain, with a sofa on one wall crowded around a large tv, and a bed across the way on the adjacent wall. BP slowly pulled into a parking spot next to a luxurious looking car.
“See look at this place we have WAY more privacy to talk here. The whole place is sound proof. I'll have Alfred order a pizza and we can start talking about real business.”
“No you have to explain first,” Noxious insisted.
“Explain what?”
“EVERYTHING!”
BP leaned back on the broken tailgate of the truck “Uhhh… So in the beginning there was nothing, then BAM than mars and stars and cows and shit.”
“How about first WHO’S ALFRED?”
“The butler.”
“You have a butler named Alfred?” Tranquill giggled.
“Yeah i thought it would be funny.”
“What would be?” Noxious asked, getting dizzy at all he's had to take in.
“To name my butler Alfred.”
“WAIT YOU NAMED A BUTLER?” Tranquill protested in sheer confusion.
“You guys have a hard time staying on topic.” BP guided them over to the rather homely couch and they each took a seat. “So missy. I'm gonna ask you again. How serious are you about being a criminal.”
The tone of the room became more serious all of a sudden.
“I would follow him wherever he goes. Seriously. Even into the bathroom.”
“She’s like a cat,” added Noxious.
BP interrupted them. “You need to quit your job.”
 Tranq looked at the ground for a moment. “But… My debts. I worked hard to get a job in my field.”
“And you'll never be worse off for it, you'll take those skills with you into whatever you do but do you really wanna be working an office job when the cops show up? You guys have to start living this, it ain't the kinda lifestyle someone does on the weekends. You gotta be done with the nine to five, done with the rented storage shack and done with the BS small time jobs. I want you guys to move your lair in here, i want you guys to start taking jobs with me and get yourselves a proper home. I want you guys to win on this and i'll help but if it's not what you want, what you truly desire, then you gotta walk away before someone gets hurt.”
“This is…. A lot.”
Noxious stepped forward. “My burden of fixing this world is not something i want dragged into.”
BP stood up to outmatch noxious in height if not determination. “You’re not going to get what you want without help.”
A moment went by. The two of them stood in a quiet stillness like an old western movie. The energy seemed aggressive but it felt more compassionate than that. Noxious knew that in this moment BP was not questioning his motive, but instead he's being forced to question it himself.
“I want to quit my job,” Tranquil broke the silence, “I want out of that stupid storage container. I want the neighbor girl to stop whistling when i wash the van. I WANT TO GET RID OF THE VAN! I HATE THE STUPID VAN!”
“I HATE THE VAN TOO!” Noxious matched her energy “I HATE THE STUPID SHIFTER KNOB! It has no button and my thumb sits on the side of it funny.”
“I hate my job. I hate my debt. “
“Even if the button didn't function, it should still be there.”
“I hate all of my co workers. All of them. There's not one redeemable thought made in that building all day. I hate work i hate school and i hate everyone. That’s why i'm here. I want to wreck this world not just live in it.”
“THIS IS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT! LET'S KICK THE WORLD IN THE FACE!” BP grabbed a beer.
Noxious moved his hand in a ‘kinda’ gesture. “I'm more on the fixing it side… With gas.”
“YEAH let's tear down society!!!” Tranquill exclaimed.
“I'm like… Chaotic good if anything.”
“LET'S KICK LIFE IN THE BABY MAKER AND MAKE OUR OWN WAY!!!”
Noxious looked at both of them. “Screw it, burn the world down” he said as he reached down for a beer for him and Tranquill. They all clanked cans, BP and Tranq opened and chugged their beers. Noxious paused for a moment, then opened his beer, pulled up his mask and met their pace.
-----------------------supersecretspecialdeletedpatreonexclusivelike&subscribeOVENDING
“He was choking me man. He threatened me!”
“Who?”
“The little gas mask guy. The one from space 25.”
“Oh him. Leave em alone he just talks that way.”
“BUT HE THREATENED TO GAS ME!!”
“Out of everyone in this whole park he's the only one who visits my mom. No clue how they met but she loves the little guy. He's got a big heart. Since he's been around her depression is unnoticeable. She's baking more, laughing more. Seeing her happy and tasting her food again has lifted my spirits too. Leave him be, he makes people happy.”
8 notes · View notes
per-ineptia-ad-astra · 6 years ago
Text
Star Trek Episode 1.11: The Menagerie, Part 1
AKA: Spock Goes Rogue, Shows Vacation Photos
Did you think we were done with the pilots yet? Ha ha ha, no. We will never be done.
You remember how, back in Where No Man Has Gone Before, I mentioned that there was a first pilot that NBC was interested in but didn’t like enough to greenlight the show? That pilot was called The Cage, and was quite different from the eventual show in its design. It was also very different in cast, with Leonard Nimoy and Majel Barrett being the only cast members to stick around for the rest of the show. Nimoy still played Spock, but a much more emotional, earnest Spock, while Barrett played Number One, the second-in-command who was actually much more like Spock, being cool, intelligent, and seemingly emotionless. Instead of Kirk the captain was Christopher Pike, played by Jeffrey Hunter, who made for a much more serious and gloomy kind of leading man.
Now, as mentioned, that pilot didn’t get approved, so they went on with the second pilot, and then with the main show, leaving The Cage to be an interesting what-could-have-been side note in the show’s history, but nothing more than that. Or at least, it would have been, if the show hadn’t run into a problem with production delays while doing the first season, on account of all that time-consuming effects work. To help catch up, they needed an episode that could be completed in much less time than they were usually taking. Come to think of it, didn’t they have an entire story, already shot and edited and everything, just sitting around unused?
And so Roddenberry hit on the idea of re-using the scrapped pilot to fill out season one. It’s an odd example of being a clip show (that is, an episode of a TV show mostly comprised of clips from other episodes) from a production standpoint, but not from an audience one, since they had never seen the old footage before. Of course, the pilot was so different that they couldn’t just drop it in as it was. It was weird enough when they did that with Where No Man Has Gone Before, and at least that one had the same captain. So a framing device had to be invented, something that would allow them to justify showing the pilot in the context of the show. That framing device combined with the longer running time of The Cage—an hour and a bit compared to TOS’s usual fifty minutes—made for two episodes, resulting in the only two-part story in TOS.
Our episode begins with the Enterprise in orbit around a large planet that’s a nice purple color. A view from the planet’s surface shows us a walkway and grassy courtyard between rows of buildings, under a purple sky with a ringed planet on the horizon. A nice change from the planets we’ve seen so far, which have mostly been bleak at best and desolate hellholes no one would want to live in at worst. Well, Miri’s planet was okay. Shame about the plague, though.
Anyway, this planet is clearly quite inhabited, as lots of people in Starfleet uniforms are walking about, including a redshirt woman who pauses and looks around with a rather...confused expression on her face. It kinda looks like she’s just suddenly found herself outside and isn’t entirely sure how she got there.
But a moment later, the thing she was looking for arrives: Kirk, Spock and McCoy beaming down into the courtyard. The woman greets them and says that the commodore is waiting to see them, and wants to know why they suddenly changed course to come visit him. Now it’s Kirk’s turn to be confused, because according to him, they got a message telling them to divert to the base immediately. But the woman says the base sent no such message. Well, that’s a mite strange.
Kirk is soon talking to said commodore, Mendez, who says that no, they definitely didn’t send anything like that to the Enterprise. But Kirk insists that Spock received a message from the former captain of the Enterprise, now-Fleet Commander Pike, and Kirk has rock solid faith in Spock so as far as he’s concerned, if Spock says there was a message, there was a message.
Before Kirk can offer to duel for Spock’s honor, Mendez says that he’s not doubting anyone here, it’s just that it’s impossible that Pike could have sent that message. When Kirk asks why, Mendez is surprised he hasn’t heard since it’s been all over the subspace chatter. Apparently Kirk hasn’t been keeping up with his social media lately. Judging by the commodore’s tone, it’s not happy news.
He takes the three of them upstairs to the medical section, because sure, why not stick a hospital directly on top of your space navy headquarters. On the way, they talk about Pike; Kirk only met him once, but Spock served with him on the Enterprise for eleven years. According to Mendez, Pike was doing an inspection of an old cadet ship when a plate ruptured, exposing the people on the ship to delta rays. Which are a real thing, but probably not one that has much of anything to do with this. Anyway Pike went into the danger zone to rescue all the cadets that were still alive, but judging from the grim warning Mendez gives before he opens the door to Pike’s room, he didn’t come back in great shape.
They enter the room, to see a man sitting with his back towards them. When Mendez addresses him, he slowly turns around, revealing that his chair is in fact a mobility device encasing him up to his shoulders. The little that we can see of Pike himself doesn’t look real good.
Tumblr media
[ID: A man in a hospital room with a large window looking out onto a cityscape. The man is in a kind of pyramidal chair that encases him up to his shoulders, with five round lights arranged on a panel in the front, four silver and one yellow. The man has pale hair, drooping eyelids, bubbled skin on the lower part of his face, and a huge purplish-red burn scar curving from his left temple down to his jaw.]
Kirk, Spock and McCoy look back with muted reactions—which could be called underacting, but I call it sensible, because the last thing you want to do when seeing a person who’s been injured and disfigured is scream about it, that’s not good for anyone’s mental health. Mendez goes over to Pike and says hey, you remember these guys, they wanted to come see you. In response, the yellow light on Pike’s chair flashes twice. Mendez says two flashes mean no. So, he doesn’t remember them, or he doesn’t want to see them? Mendez seems to think it’s the second one, because he asks if Pike won’t make an exception, but he only gets another no. Looks like they’ll have to leave. Kirk asks if there’s anything he can do for Pike, but he also gets a no.
As they turn to leave, though, Spock asks Pike if he can stay for a moment. The chair light flashes once for yes, so the other three exit, leaving Spock alone with his former captain.
Spock says that Pike knows why he’s come. It’s an awkward conversation. “It’s only six days away at maximum warp, and I have it well planned.” Two flashes. “I have never disobeyed your orders before, Captain, but this time, I must.” Two flashes. “I know. I know it is treachery, and it’s mutiny. But I must do this.” Two flashes. “I have no choice.” Two flashes. One suspects that if there was a “goddammit, I said NO” button, Pike would be using it.
That’s not Jeffrey Hunter playing Pike here, incidentally—he declined to come back for the second pilot after the first one didn’t get picked up, and was way too expensive and busy for them to hire him back just to get covered in makeup and sit motionless in a pyramid chair. So the older Pike was played by Sean Kenney, suffering through what had to be one of the most boring acting jobs ever.
After the titles, night has fallen on the purple planet, and still Kirk and Mendez are arguing. Kirk says that Spock claiming to have received a message is all the proof he needs, but as the commodore points out, the record floppy discs tapes show no sign of that message being sent. Kirk suggests the tapes could have been altered, but Mendez says fact is that Pike could not have sent that message and Spock’s the only one who seems to have seen it anyway. Kirk points out that if Spock wanted to see Pike there’d be no need to fake a message, he could have just asked for leave. “WELL THAT’S TRUE OF COURSE!” Mendez yells, and then kind of peters out awkwardly.
The question is, if the Enterprise was nefariously diverted to the base by someone, why? There was nothing urgent going on where they were that anyone would want to get them away from. Mendez calls down to the computer lab to see if there’s any way that message could possibly have been sent from the base, but the guy on duty says that no, they’ve checked and double-checked everything possible. Mendez tells him to start checking the impossible. Dammit, why do these Starfleet types keep saying that? What is anyone supposed to do with that order? “Well, I guess we’ll go look for unicorns in the server room.”
As the computer chief gets up to go set leprechaun traps or whatever, Spock enters from the door behind him. We can tell he's up to no good because he's in stealth mode, creeping suspiciously past a partition in the back of the room and coming up behind the computer guy, who gets nerve-pinched before he even knows what's up. Spock leaves him on the floor and sets to work tampering with one of the computers. Hands-on hacking, that's how they did it back in the day.
Upstairs...downstairs? Adjacent? In another building? Wherever the commodore's office is relative to the computer lab, the redshirt woman from earlier has stopped by. Mendez introduces her to Kirk as Ms. Piper. (She's a civilian? I guess? She wears a uniform but has no rank on her sleeves.) Piper says that she recognized Kirk immediately because a mutual friend described him to her—yet another one of Kirk's old flames, evidently, judging by the way he reacts. Before we can go too far down that old road again, though, Mendez nudges Piper to make her report.
Piper says that their investigation turned up very little, except that Spock served with Pike for several years and was very loyal to him, which we already knew. Kirk butts in to say that a Vulcan “can no more be disloyal than he can exist without breathing” which applies both to Spock’s former commander and his present one. This strikes me as a rather odd thing to say. What do you mean he can't be disloyal? Can Vulcans not dislike or disagree with people that they serve under? Do they just become bound to obey anyone with a higher rank than them? Because that has all kinds of unpleasant implications. It could be that their culture simply places a very high priority on loyalty, but Kirk makes it sound like it's built into them. But then I guess Kirk is a bit on the defensive right now and he might be overstating things. Or he could just be wrong.
Anyway, Piper points out that look, they have to consider everything, and the results on the unicorns haven't come back yet. What they know for sure is that Pike couldn't have sent that message because his condition means he's under constant observation. Mendez says that Pike's chair is built to respond to his brain waves, so he can move it around a little or flash the light, but that's all he can do.
This is something that has always bothered me about this episode, to be honest. It seems weird that they're able to build Pike a chair that can respond to his brain waves but not so well that he can any do more than scoot around a little, but you know what—fine. Let's take it as a given that this is indeed the limit of the technology and medicine of the setting. But no one could think of any way that you could use that little bit that he can do to communicate any better than just yes or no? Really? He can make a light flash—y'all ever hear of morse code, aka a whole system of communication that requires nothing more than a light that can turn on and off? What about a letter board with lights so he can spell out words? If he can mentally activate a light, could he not mentally activate buttons for a text-to-speech device? Or at least a small set of pre-recorded messages? I mean, we have paralyzed patients in real life, right now, who can communicate better than poor Pike even though we have way less advanced technology, because we put some thought into how best to use the technology we do have. At least it's not like they also have people with telepathic powers in this setting—OH WAIT. THEY DO.
At any rate, Mendez reiterates that Pike couldn't have even asked for the message to be sent; his mind is fine and active, but his body can't really do anything anymore, and because everyone in this dang hospital is terrible at their jobs he can't communicate more than yes or no.
In the computer lab, Spock is playing with some wires to make a voice saying 'starbase operations' speed up and slow down. This would seem to be part of the process to synthesize a voice giving new orders to the Enterprise. That, or he was just doing it for fun. On the Enterprise Uhura receives the fake message, saying that they're getting new orders which are top secret so they're going to be fed directly into the ship's computer. This strikes both Uhura and the random guy who I guess is in charge at the moment—a goldshirt named Hansen; don't get attached he won't stick around-- as odd, so they request confirmation.
Before Spock can send that confirmation, he's interrupted by a guy coming in and demanding to know what he's doing in a secured area. He's tampering with the computers, what does it look like he's doing? Spock says he has clearance, but the guy doesn't buy it, and tries to pull him away from the computer. This results in a brief shoving match between the two, like two siblings fighting over the X-Box, before Spock remembers that oh yeah, he can do that thing that makes people go unconscious and stop bothering him.
With that problem temporarily solved, Spock is able to give Uhura confirmation by way of a convenient tape that has a recording of Kirk saying, “You have confirmation” on it. Then he puts in another one that tells them to direct all messages to Spock. Oh, well that's handy.
Spock then tells them that their course for this mission will be computed and laid in automatically, so even the helmsmen won't know where they're going. Also this is top secret so don't discuss it with anyone. Also we're leaving in an hour, so make sure you go to the bathroom beforehand.
Meanwhile, Kirk is sitting by a monitor watching Pike in his room. And y'know, while we're on the subject of Pike here, you'd really expect a completely paralyzed patient under permanent full-time care to have a room that was actually designed to fit their needs as well as possible, wouldn't you? But no, they just crammed his chair into a regular hospital room, complete with a bed taking up half the space. That's just mean. “Here's a bed, you can never use it again, but you'll have to look at constantly!” Maybe that's why Pike is currently facing the camera and flashing 'no' over and over.
McCoy comes in and says he's tried questioning Pike, who's apparently really agitated. Then he goes on a passionate rant about what good is medicine anyway when they can't use it to help this man, trapped with a perfectly functional brain but no way to reach out to people. It's very heartfelt; you sort of get the impression that DeForest Kelley knew he didn't have much to do in this whole story but damn if he wasn't going to do the most he could with what he did have.
Kirk isn't impressed, though; in fact he just keeps staring at the monitor with no sign that he heard McCoy at all. The two of them question what Pike is saying 'no' to; it's an answer but they have no hope of guessing the correct question. But Kirk seems less focused on the plight of Pike and more on this whole mystery about the message. Either someone at the base sent them that message, or someone on the ship lied about receiving it—and he's starting to wonder if, in fact, that someone was Spock.
McCoy doesn't buy that at all; even regardless of how well they know Spock, he says, Vulcans can't lie. Later evidence throughout the show points more towards “Vulcans really want people to think they can't lie” but McCoy doesn't know that yet. And while, yes, Spock is half-human, he so fully identifies as Vulcan that McCoy doesn't see any chance of him acting or thinking like a human; he'd be ashamed to do so.
But Kirk's getting riled up. Someone is messing with his ship and he really hates it when that happens. At this point everyone is under suspicion as far as he's concerned—he'd even suspect McCoy if he thought McCoy knew how to fake a message like that. McCoy is perfectly willing to admit that he could absolutely run off and do some wild bullshit if the mood struck him, but he still insists that Spock wouldn't.
The argument has just about escalated into a shouting match, but it's abruptly derailed by a message on the intercom telling McCoy to report to the transporter. Apparently he's needed on the Enterprise because of a medical emergency, but the guy on the line doesn't know what it is, just that they need McCoy for it. McCoy seems less than impressed by this—reasonably enough, considering that apparently someone managed to get themselves so injured the remaining medical staff can't deal with it while in a safe orbit--but he heads off, promising to let Kirk know what's up when he finds out.
Some indeterminate time later, Mendez is showing Kirk a sealed dossier with TALOS IV—TOP SECRET FOR EYES OF STARFLEET COMMAND ONLY on the front. Mendez asks Kirk what he knows about Talos 4, and Kirk says he only knows what everyone knows—General Order Seven forbids any ship from ever going there for any reason. In fact, Starfleet is so serious about this that it warrants the death penalty—the only one there is left anymore, apparently, but Mendez says that only Fleet Command knows why. Hold on a minute, can Starfleet really enforce the death penalty? They're not actually the government, they're like...the space navy. Do they really have that much power? It'd really suck if we as a society decided to abolish the death penalty, only for Starfleet to come in and be like, “Yeah, we just need it for this one thing though. We're not gonna tell you what it is. Just trust us.”
Apparently this whole business is so secret that even the super-duper secret file Kirk has in front of him doesn't explain what's up. Mendez unseals it and we see the terrible contents.
Tumblr media
[ID: A paper inside a red folder which reads: TOP SECRET. For eyes of STARFLEET Command only. Subject: TALOS IV in third quadrant of vernal galaxy. Known facts: Detailed information cross referenced with 3XY phagrin level-mass computer. The only Earthship that ever visited planet Talos IV was the U.S.S. Enterprise commanded by Captain Christopher Pike with Half-Vulcan Science Officer Spock. Recommendations: Be it hereby noted that said following instructions be incorporated into STARFLEET policy--NO ONE WILL EVER VISIT TALOS IV. The following officers have visited Talos IV and recommended that no human should ever visit it again--Captain Christopher Pike--Half-Vulcan Science Officer Spock.]
And that's it. It gives information that's relevant in the context of the episode, but it's difficult to see why those specific facts would be in any way useful to anyone else. It's basically Exposition: The File. Also, what's with the weird obsession with pointing out that Spock is half-Vulcan? Is that really so relevant that it needs to be mentioned constantly in case anyone forgets? Why is he so important to this document anyway if he was just the Science Officer at the time? Spock is important on Kirk's Enterprise because he's the Science Officer and the First Officer. Being First Officer is the bit that makes him right below the captain in the chain of command, just being Science Officer doesn't make him really relevant to big Starfleet policy decisions.
Kirk and Mendez briefly restate the important bits of the document, for the sake of the audience that didn't have highly detailed screens and a pause button, but before they can get into it they're interrupted by a shout from Piper. She'd been watching—well, kind of staring blankly at, to be honest—the exciting live video feed of Pike's quarters, looked away for just a moment, and when she looked back Pike was gone. Evidently he only moves when you’re not looking at him, like a Weeping Angel or Watson in that one Sherlock Holmes game.
While Kirk and Mendez sit there not emoting about this, a message comes in on Mendez's terminal. The Enterprise is leaving orbit, and refusing to acknowledge the base. That's significant enough news for Kirk to turn grimly to the camera before commercial.
Up on the Enterprise, Hansen remarks that it's odd to be heading out with no navigator at the helm, but Spock tells him the Enterprise knows where it's going. I guess Sulu is just gonna get to sleep in today. Come to think of it, one wonders why they need navigators on duty all the time if the computer can do such a good job of it.
Uhura says that they're being hailed, but Spock tells her to keep maintaining radio silence. Then he makes an announcement over the PA: their mission is secret, he's in charge, and Kirk was assigned medical rest leave until they get back. Now everybody go about your business. Nothing to see here, carry on, carry on.
Of course, Spock can tell most people on the ship not to question his orders, but there's one person undeterred by any secret mission or Starfleet orders, and certainly not deterred by Spock: McCoy, who's just come up on the bridge demanding to know what the frell is going on around here. He can't find the source of that emergency that called him back up to the ship, and now Spock is saying Kirk needs medical rest leave? What is this nonsense?
Spock calmly admits that there are some things McCoy hasn't been told, and asks the doctor to come with him. The two of them go to...uh...someone's room, where, much to McCoy's surprise and consternation, Pike is hanging out in the corner, his light still flashing 'no'. Before McCoy can really get into a good rant, Spock plays him a message from Kirk saying that McCoy is to take care of Pike, ask him no questions, and obey Spock's orders. We've still yet to get an explanation as to how Spock is managing to make these fake recordings, anyway. I guess audio editing software has just come a long way by this point.
I'm really not sure what McCoy is supposed to be doing for Pike anyway. You'd expect a patient in his condition to need considerable life support, but we never see any more of him than his head sticking out of that chair, and there was no sign of any other medical equipment in his hospital room. I guess his chair just takes care of all his biological functions? If so I don't know if McCoy can do a whole lot more than maybe put a blanket over him or something.
Spock leaves McCoy (who's got a 'I may be quiet right now but you better believe I haven't given this one up yet' look on his face) to ponder this and goes back up to the bridge, where Hansen tells him that there's an object following them that's suspiciously the size of a Starfleet shuttlecraft. Which makes this the first appearance, in airing order, of said shuttlecrafts, though it’ll be a bit longer before we see any of the actual Enterprise ones. Hansen wants to know if they should turn around or at least stop so the shuttlecraft can catch up to them, but Spock says no, full speed ahead and no contact.
So the Enterprise trundles on through space, followed by a shuttlecraft occupied by Kirk and Mendez. Mendez is trying to make contact with the Enterprise, ordering them to respond to his message, but he's having no luck. By now they're sure that Spock is indeed heading to Talos 4, but they've got no chance of catching up to the bigger ship, and if they go any further they won't have enough fuel to get back to the base.
Spock seems to be thinking along the same lines, because we see him talking to the ship's computer, first asking it to confirm that the object following them is a shuttlecraft, and then asking how long the craft has before it has to return to base. The computer tells him that the craft is already past the point of no return. I'm not sure how it knows this, but the Enterprise computer works in mysterious ways.
Sure enough, the little shuttlecraft that could(n't) soon runs out of fuel, leaving them to coast. Which they will presumably do forever or until they bump into something, because that's how space works, but probably we shouldn't think too much about how space works while watching Star Trek. Kirk angrily stalks around the cabin and tells Mendez that the commodore should never have come anyway, but Mendez cheerfully tells him that he's high-ranking enough that he can do what he wants.
They've got life support for now, at least, but only two hours until the oxygen runs out. Kirk glumly ruminates that he almost hopes that the Enterprise doesn't come back for them because if they catch up to Spock he'll be court-martialed into the next galaxy. Or, if he makes it to Talos 4, executed. I guess the punishment for going to Talos 4 is Federation-wide, even though it's hard to see the Vulcans being onboard with the whole death penalty thing. It's a bit difficult to disentangle Starfleet, the Federation, and the individual planets in the Federation at the best of times but this episode is really making things confusing.
Mendez wonders what reason Spock could have for taking Pike back to Talos 4—according to the reports, the planet has nothing of benefit to offer. Kirk says there Spock has to have a logical reason, but Mendez says maybe he just went mad. You know, like people just do from time to time.
Spock, for his part, seems to still be quite calm and rational about all this, but McCoy's doing his best to change that, standing on the bridge and loudly wondering just who could be in that mysterious shuttlecraft. As usual Spock ignores him; he's busy with locking a tractor beam onto the shuttlecraft, then having the Enterprise come to a halt so they can pick it up.
Then he tells Security to send an armed team to the bridge, tells the transporter room to get ready to beam Kirk aboard, and puts Hansen in command. Which seems odd—well, for the obvious reason, but also because I'm pretty sure there are more people in the chain of command between the First Officer and a random goldshirt we've never seen before or since. Heck, where's Scotty? He's high-ranking enough to take command if both Kirk and Spock are away. Did they leave him behind too? Even Hansen seems confused by this. Poor Hansen—he's having a very confusing day.
Spock then turns to McCoy and says that, since McCoy is the senior officer present, Spock is presenting himself to the good doctor for arrest. This absolutely blindsides McCoy, who had probably been wondering if Spock had finally called a security team on him to make him go away. Spock confesses that he never received orders to take command and has in fact committed mutiny, then waits calmly as the security team arrives. McCoy, for his part, is completely flummoxed, and just kind of stands there in shock for a moment until Spock gently reminds him that he's supposed to be doing something.
This is but a little moment, but a nice bit of characterization. I think McCoy, out of all the main cast, is the one that feels least connected to the identity of being a Starfleet officer. He's a doctor, dammit, and he's fine with fussing at people or even pulling rank in that capacity because it comes out of the perspective of being their doctor. That's how he identifies himself—being in Starfleet is just kind of something that happened to him. But this is asking him to act as a ranking officer, to exert command over someone else in an entirely non-medical sense, and he is clearly neither familiar nor comfortable with that role. I don't think he would be regardless of who he was dealing with here, but the fact that it's Spock he's being asked to bring the hammer down on just makes it even worse. Sure, McCoy will badger and pester and tease Spock, and just this far into the series we haven't seen their friendship develop much, but the fact that McCoy is stunned and dismayed rather than being gleeful over the opportunity to do something like this pretty clearly shows that he does respect Spock and has no desire to see him genuinely brought down.
But eventually McCoy manages to tell the security team that Spock is under arrest—and then, adorably, has to ask Spock himself if confinement to quarters will be enough. Spock says that will be fine since he's not planning on making trouble, and calmly walks away with the redshirts.
Meanwhile Kirk is telling Scotty to beam the two of them up and stick the shuttlecraft in the hanger. Wait, so Scotty is here. I guess he just couldn't be bothered to walk up to the bridge to be in command for the five minutes or so until Kirk got back?
Hansen clearly wants none of this either; Kirk has barely stepped off the platform before Hansen is rushing forward to transfer command back to him. Kirk takes it back and asks where Spock is, and Hansen says he's been confined to quarters. Mendez is shocked that he was only confined to quarters. Look, Mendez, everyone's doing the best they can right now, okay, it's been a very hard day.
Before they can start getting into that, though, Uhura calls down to say that the engines are coming back on. Kirk says to belay that and stop the ship, only to be informed that the ship is now under computer control that they can't disengage from. Scotty is outraged by this and storms off to go yell at the computer until it behaves. Kirk tries to override the computer controls himself, but the computer says that it can't disengage until they reach Talos 4, and any attempt to do so will screw up the ship's life support.
So it looks like they're stuck for the long haul as the ship carries on towards Talos 4. In the meantime, they're going to hold a preliminary hearing for Spock. As a way to kill time on long trips I generally prefer a good podcast playlist, but you guys do you.
The hearing convenes, with Kirk and Mendez sitting in judgment, accompanied by a couple of security guards and a redshirt with a computer who I guess is gonna be the stenographer or whatever. Kirk begins by reminding Spock that he has the right to representation, but Spock says he waives that right. In fact, he's waiving his right to the hearing itself, and wants to go straight to a court-martial. Kirk is like “What? No.” When pressed to provide an actual reason, he says that a court-martial for mutiny requires three officers of command rank, and since Scotty is presumably still busy swearing at the computer they've only got Kirk and Mendez. But Spock points out that actually, there is another such officer aboard: Pike. Because despite his condition, Pike is still technically on active duty. Mendez says they “didn't have the heart to retire him.” Oh, oh you didn't have the heart. Well I'm sure that's a great comfort to the man. He's stuck in a mobile iron lung for the rest of his life and can only say yes or no because no one could be arsed to find a better way for him to communicate, but at least his name is still on some paperwork somewhere.
But Spock's rules-lawyering checks out, so it looks like they'll have to hold a court martial after all. By Starfleet regulations a court-martial is required to be spiffier than just a hearing, so they move to a different but nearly identical room, put dress uniforms on, and stick a couple of flags in the background. Also they've dug out a large bell from somewhere so Mendez can hit it with a mallet at important moments. Scotty and McCoy are now in attendance as well, though for some reason only McCoy had to wear the dress shirt. I don’t really know why they brought those two, honestly; I mean I always like having them around but they really have nothing to do except sit there and look glum. And, of course, Pike has been brought in too. They didn’t dress him up, though.
Spock is still waiving his counsel and has pled guilty. Well, that sorts that out, I guess. Mendez points out that if the vessel makes it all the way to the Talos system there will be another charge brought against him that carries the death penalty, which Spock is aware of and doesn't seem real bothered about.
Mendez demands to know why Spock is doing all this, and Spock responds by requesting the use of the room's monitor screen so he can show evidence to explain himself. Maybe he's prepared a powerpoint? No, evidently, for the screen shows video, a shot of the Enterprise itself that sweeps in to focus on the bridge. But not the bridge we know—this is the Enterprise thirteen years ago, Spock explains, under the command of Captain Pike. The set design is clearly different, though still reminiscent of the one we know, and the crew are wearing heavier shirts similar to the ones from Where No Man Has Gone Before.
On the screen, we see Spock telling Pike that something is headed towards them, but before we can find out what it is, Kirk turns the screen off and asks Pike if that guy on the screen was really him. Pike says yes. You can understand Kirk’s confusion though; young Pike and old Pike look so unalike it’s almost like they were played by two different actors or something. Kirk says this is impossible—ships don't make record tapes in that much detail. Presumably they also don't usually make record tapes that include shots from outside the ship, unless all starships are constantly being followed by a camera ship like on Deadliest Catch. They probably also don’t make record tapes with multiple camera angles and close-ups at appropriately dramatic moments. So what are they looking at? Spock says he can't tell them yet, and Pike confirms that this isn't a record tape from that voyage.
Mendez says this evidence is automatically invalid since they have no idea what it is or what it came from, but Kirk says he wants to see more. And no, it doesn't have anything to do with Spock being his friend! Kirk is totally impartial in this matter! Really!
So they turn the screen back on and resume watching. Spock explains that they were on patrol at the time when they detected something coming toward the ship at the speed of light. Not another cube, hopefully. Pike declines to engage defensive maneuvers and proceeds full speed ahead, and they soon find out what the approaching thing is: a radio wave. You guys can't tell the difference between a radio wave and a physical object coming at you? I hope they upgraded the Enterprise's sensors sometime in the ensuing thirteen years.
Specifically, the radio wave is an old distress signal (there's a lot of those bouncing around the galaxy). It was a survey ship, apparently, the S.S. Columbia, that got in trouble and had to make a forced landing—somewhere in the Talos star system. This was eighteen years ago, which is how long it took their distress signal to carry this far. Not terribly useful as a distress signal, was it.
Spock exposits—loudly—that the Talos star system is unexplored, but they know it has eleven planets, and the fourth one is Class M, meaning it has an oxygen atmosphere and it would be possible for the survey crew to have survived there—if they made it through the crash landing. But with no guarantee of survivors Pike isn't going to divert course to check it out, because there are injured crewmen aboard so they have a pressing need to make it to the colony they're headed for. He gives the conn to his first officer, a dark-haired woman working the helm, and leaves the bridge.
Pike heads through the corridors, inexplicably passing by a man and woman in modern-looking civilian clothing.
Tumblr media
[ID: A man and a woman, seen from behind, walking through the Enterprise corridors. The woman is wearing a pink sleeveless shirt with a white pleated skirt, and the man is wearing a blue and black striped t-shirt with blue shorts.]
uh
He enters his quarters, calls up one Doctor Boyce and tells him to come by, and then flops moodily onto the bed. One thing hasn't changed in thirteen years—the total lack of blankets in the Enterprise quarters. Everyone just sleeps on a bare mattress. In their boots.
All of about five seconds after being called, the doctor comes in, carrying a rectangular case with him. Pike protests that there's nothing wrong with him, but Boyce has a different kind of medicine in mind, and proceeds to put together a martini from the contents of the case. He's reckoned that Pike has more on his mind than just getting the doctor's opinion about the distress signal in his log, and quips that “sometimes a man will tell his bartender things he'll never tell his doctor.”
You can definitely see ideas here that would eventually evolve into the character of our own good Doctor McCoy—the ship's doctor who is also a personal confidant for the captain, with a liking for serving drinks and philosophizing. But, while I'll grant it's hard to tell since we don't see all that much of him, Boyce feels distinctly less interesting. He's more passive and neutral, less emotional and...well, he's just not DeForest Kelley, dammit.
Boyce coaxes Pike into talking about what's really bothering him: a fight on Rigel 7 that killed three crewmen and wounded seven others, discussed in just enough detail to tantalize the prospective network. Pike is beating himself up for letting the whole thing happen, though Boyce doesn’t think he could have done anything differently. He's tired of this whole bloody captain thing anyway, tired of having to make dangerous calls and be responsible for life and death. He's so tired he's thinking about resigning altogether, maybe going back home and hanging out with his horses. When Boyce expresses disdain for such a boring life, Pike fires back that he doesn't have to do that, he could—he could become an Orion trader! Boyce is incredulous of the idea of Pike “dealing in green animal women slaves” and Pike says the point is that being a captain isn't the only life available. Um—sorry, Pike, just, uh, hold up, go back a minute there—did you just put out slave trader as a possible career option? We just, uh, we just not gonna talk about that? Just a little?
But Boyce seems less concerned with the ethics of Pike's potential career choices and more with the fact that he doesn't see Pike being happy as anything but a starship captain. “A man either lives life as it happens to him, meets it head on and licks it,” he says, “or he turns his back on it and starts to wither away.” That’s right, life is just a bunch of things that happen to you and if you don’t like it you die. Real men don’t make choices about their future! That’s quitting talk!
Pike comments that he’s starting to talk more like a doctor than a bartender, to which Boyce replies that they both get the same kinds of customers: “the living...and the dying.” Well that’s fair enough for doctors, but if you’re a bartender and your customers are dying I feel like you’re doing your job very wrong.
Mercifully this dreary conversation is interrupted by a call from Spock: they’ve gotten another message, a follow-up to the distress signal saying that there are indeed crash survivors on Talos 4. We cut to the bridge, where a computer prints out a paper copy of the message for a crewman to read out loud. Wow, this future technology really is something. The message says that there are survivors, the planet is habitable, and they can get food and water, but unless...unleeeeeess? Unleeeeess? We don’t know, because the message stops there.
This is enough to convince Pike that they’re going to check out Talos 4 for survivors. Which is a bit odd: one would presume the second message is also about eighteen years old (because if they could send a quicker message why not do that in the first place) which means either there’s no survivors left at this point or if there are they’ve survived almost two decades so they’ll probably be okay for a few more days, whereas the injured crewman on the Enterprise might not be. But who am I to question the judgment of a Starfleet captain.
As the helmsmen lay in the course, the camera draws back from the scene and into the trial room. Mendez, it seems, has had enough. He turns the screen off and tells Spock alright, very good, very creative, don’t know how you did it--but this isn’t a theater, it’s a court of space law, which is like regular law but in space. Spock calls in Pike for backup, asking him to confirm that they’re watching events that really happened rather than something Spock made up, which Pike does. It’s the real deal, Spock says, and if they’re not convinced by the time they’ve watched the whole thing then he’ll unlock the computer control and turn the ship around.
Mendez is outraged by this and is ready to end the trial here and now. Kirk still wants to hear the rest of the story. It’s up to Pike to be the tiebreaker. He sides with Kirk, naturally, since after all we’ve still got a lot of footage left to use.
With that pointless bit of padding over, the story continues. The Enterprise of the past has arrived at Talos 4, and preliminary studies indicate that the planet is indeed safe for human life. A helmsman spots reflections on the planet’s surface that look like metal, possibly the remains of a spaceship. Pike assembles a landing party, including Spock and the helmsman, but not the first officer, who he wants to stay behind because they need an experienced officer on the ship in case things go bad on the planet. They can’t afford to lost their second most important person, after all! Only the first most important person can take that risk.
The landing party gets ready to head out, putting on heavy jackets and shoulder holsters for gear first, because this was before Starfleet instituted the Just Go Down In Your Shirts Or Whatever, It’ll Probably Be Fine policy. They beam down into a dusty landscape filled with rocks, with the only sign of life being a few grim-looking plants. Mountains loom in the distance under a greenish sky filled with thick black clouds. It’s not a welcoming kind of place.
Phasers at the ready, the group moves through the rocks. From this perspective you can see that Spock is limping, meant to be an indication that he was also injured during whatever happened on Rigel 7, but it’s never elaborated on in the episode. They hear a strange humming sound and follow it to its source, a plant with bright blue vibrating leaves. Pike and Spock are intrigued by it, and Spock actually grins with enjoyment, a weird thing to see. It’s a remnant of the different writing for the original pilot and how Nimoy’s character choices differed when he was playing against the more serious Pike versus when he was playing against Kirk, but since they wound up using the footage it’s canon now and we just gotta deal with that.
Leaf enjoyment over, the party goes back to wandering through the canyon until, what ho, there are some survivors over there. They’ve got a base camp among the rocks made of scavenged materials and spaceship parts. There’s quite a few survivors in the camp, all older men (white, natch) wearing extremely ragged clothing. They’re stunned and overjoyed to see the Enterprise crew, and ask if Earth is alright, evidently not trusting in humanity to not destroy the planet when left alone for eighteen years. Which, I mean, that’s fair.
The conversation comes to a sudden halt when the crewmen catch sight of an incredibly shocking phenomenon: a woman. Unlike the other survivors she’s young, and while her clothes are still ragged, they’re ragged in a suspiciously tight and skimpy way instead of the random shreds everyone else is dealing with. Also, since she’s been living in a makeshift shipwreck colony on an inhospitable planet for almost two decades, naturally she’s wearing makeup and her skin and hair are pristine. And she walks seductively to boot.
Tumblr media
[ID: A survivor’s camp made from scavenged equipment, with a few survivors in worn clothing standing around. In the center of the image is a white woman wearing a ripped, sleeveless blue shirt with a very low neckline and a brown skirt made of some kind of scavenged fabric. She has short, puffy blonde hair and is looking at the camera with a somewhat dazed expression.]
The lead survivor introduces the woman as Vina and says that she was born right before they crashed. So she’s only eighteen. Doesn’t she look it? Pike keeps on ogling at her, because that’s not creepy at all.
While this nonsense is happening, the view draws back again—but not to the conference room in the present this time. Instead, the scene is being remotely observed in a cave by three figures in shapeless gray robes. They look pretty much human except that the tops of their heads are bulging and covered in veins. Because they are Very Smart, you see. They watch dispassionately while the survivors and crewmen mingle, before one of them nods and the other two head off.
Meanwhile the crewmen are helping the survivors pack up their camp, while Pike gets on the phone to tell the Enterprise they’re going to start beaming people up soon. But, like the alert professional he is, he’s distracted mid-sentence by a woman looking at him. Vina tells Pike that he appears to be healthy and intelligent, a “prime specimen.” The lead survivor next to her passes this bit of creepiness off by saying that Vina’s lived her whole life with a bunch of aging scientists. Yeah, sure, that’s definitely how scientists talk.
Boyce comes up to make a report to Pike, telling him that the health of the survivors is good...too good. The leader tells them that there’s a secret for why their health is so great, but they weren’t sure if Earth was ready for it. They seem to have made their decision now, though, because he sends Vina off with Pike to show him the truth. Naturally, Pike lets Vina lead him off alone, without anyone else in the party for backup.
Vina takes Pike to an especially big rock some way away from the camp, where she insists that the secret is, even though Pike can’t see anything. She says that he will understand, and that he’s a “perfect choice.” Then she vanishes. Back at the survivors’ camp, so do the survivors and all their equipment, leaving only a stunned landing party standing among the empty rocks.
Before Pike has a chance to react to the mysterious disappearing girl, a door in the rock slides open and the two Brainheads from before emerge. One of them holds out a little metal cylinder that sprays Pike with orange gas, knocking him unconscious. The landing party realizes something’s up and they all race after Pike, arriving just in time to see him being taken by the Brainheads, who close the door before anyone can get through it. They immediately try to take down the door with phasers, but all they succeed in doing is destroying the suspiciously plaster-like rock facade on the front of it. No matter how much they shoot at it, the door itself remains untouched.
Back in the present, the court martial attendees watch Past!Spock make a call to the Enterprise informing them of the situation, before Kirk shuts the screen off again. There’s been a message for Mendez, conveniently timed at a good stopping place. The message is that Starfleet has observed that the Enterprise is receiving transmissions from Talos 4, which is against the rules. That’s right—the call was coming from Talos 4!
Anyway, Kirk’s being relieved and Mendez is ordered to take control of the ship and do whatever he has to to turn it around. Mendez points out to Spock that by deliberately having contact with Talos 4, Spock is inviting the death penalty—not just for himself, but for Kirk too. Spock’s okay with the first part, but upon hearing that Kirk is now under the gun as well he jumps up and says that Kirk didn’t know about any of this, okay, it’s not his fault. But Mendez says that because Kirk is captain, he’s responsible for everything that happens on the ship.
Spock is ordered to return the ship to manual control, but he declines. Respectfully. Mendez puts the court in recess and everyone leaves except for Kirk and Spock, and the security guys. Kirk demands to know what the hell Spock is doing, and Spock tells Kirk not to stop him or let Mendez stop him. Both Kirk’s career and Pike’s life are on the line. Also Spock’s career and life, but whatever. He even calls Kirk ‘Jim’, so you know he’s serious.
Kirk stands there for a moment, grim-faced, obviously struggling inside, before ordering the redshirts to take Spock away. They do, and Kirk is left standing there, deeply troubled, alone in the empty room as the credits start to roll. Credits with background images that contain a couple spoilers for the next episode. Nice going, guys.
It’s difficult to really draw a conclusion here yet, since we’re only halfway through the story, so I’ll save my thoughts until we’re done.
TREK TROPE TALLY: None for this episode. As the end credits said, we’ll see this concluded next time, with The Menagerie Part II.
24 notes · View notes
theweirdladynextdoor · 2 years ago
Text
Just Read: This Will be Funny Later by Jenny Pentland, (2022)
There’s just something extra weird about this celebrity memoir.  For one thing, celebrities go through a lot of shit that no one else does. We’re all like, but they get to be famous and wealthy for the rest of their lives!  In reality, they deal with a lot of weird crap.  Constant paparazzi, the online hack factory, questionable coping methods, pressure to look flawless constantly, and a barrage of unnatural situations.  These things can make life harder than we mere plebes would think.  Sure, they might get to have a family breakdown at a macadamia nut farm in Hawaii, but that doesn’t make their pain less real.  
Imagine, if you will, being Roseanne Barr’s daughter through her rise to fame.  Imagine an emotionally abusive Tom Arnold as your stepdad. Imagine the circus that would follow you from place to place as you tried to go about daily life.  Imagine you are going to be shipped from school to school like a ping-pong ball across the country.  Imagine that you have trouble flourishing.  Imagine that you get sent to multiple hardcore wilderness survival placements.  Imagine that every summer you go to fat camp and that you never really get to spend time with your mom at all. Take all of this, throw in mental illness, and you have a cornucopia of weird memoir fodder.
Jenny Pentland goes through all of this and way more.  Typically, I don’t get super excited about celebrity memoirs.  They’re usually pretty standard.  They grew up famous or famous-adjacent and stayed famous. Big whoop.  Lemme guess, they did drugs and got arrested for some stupid crap. They spun out of control.  But now they’re sober and they paid a lot of money to have some ghostwriter prepare their manuscript.
Not so with this book. Jenny Pentland not only wrote it, but she wrote the hell out of it.  It has some familiar celebrity memoir tropes, but honestly, this book made me hurt for her. Her life gave her ptsd as an adult. Her life gave her depression, panic disorder, body issues, and a rare ferocity.  Her life was unhealthy in so many ways.  It packs a wallop of a punch and I know I will come back to it one day. If I were asked if the book were comparable to “The Glass Castle,” which is kind of the unicorn memoir about a weird life, I would say times ten.  It’s “The Glass Castle” times ten.
0 notes
Text
Negan Smut Week Submission: Nightclubbing
Tumblr media
Hey dudes! This is my third and last Negan Smut Week submission. Hope you enjoy! It’s been super fun writing these, and I can’t wait for the next one. :)
Summary: Sarah hates her life of drudgery working for points as a citizen of The Sanctuary. She learns about a semi-secret place in the building where Negan goes to look for his next wife and begins to devise a plan to seduce her leader. Will her scheme work?
Warnings: Negan, language, smut, fucking, finger fucking, alcohol, creepy dudes in bars, oral sex, 
Word Count: 4,210
Tags: @unicorn-blood-splatter, @negans-network, @lucifers-trash-stash, @thedeadwalks, @negansmutweek, @opheliadawnwalker3 @ali-pennell @negans-dirty-girl @grab-my-boner
Nightclubbing
Sarah frowned at her reflection in the mirror on the wall of the communal shower room as she straightened the form-fitting, sparkly dress that she wore, tugging it down from where it had ridden up on her thighs. It had been ages since she had dressed up, and she felt incredibly uncomfortable at the sight of her figure peeping through the sheer fabric that covered her. This was most definitely not her typical attire. As a citizen of the Sanctuary, who had to perform back-breaking labor for points every day, she preferred to wear more practical outfits. However, today was special; today called for a dress.
After the dead had begun to walk the earth, Sarah struggled on the road with a small group of survivors for nearly a year before they had been found by a band of rough looking thugs who called themselves The Saviours. Their leader, a crude and intimidating man named Negan, had convinced the rest of her group that it would be in their own best interest to join him. With the other members of her group willing to give up life in the open for the security of a building, Sarah felt that she had no choice but to go along with them. She could never survive on the road alone; however, months later, she still had reservations about living at the Sanctuary.
She began working for points the very week she arrived in the community, earning her keep through hard labour. Each day dragged into the next, and her mind began to atrophy with the tedium of it all. Life had become a bland routine: wake up, eat, work, and sleep. Some days Sarah wondered if the safety that living in the Sanctuary offered was even worth it. The rest of her life would be an endless slog toward what would likely be a premature end at the hands of a walker, or a maniac, or from a medical emergency that their meager facilities weren’t prepared to deal with.
She could feel that the end of her rope was looming on the day that she first heard about the night club. 
While waiting in line for breakfast in the building’s cafeteria, Sarah had been daydreaming about the novelty of life outside the fence and the feeling of sun on her skin. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on anyone, but happened to overhear an utterly surreal conversation between two young women speaking in hushed tones. In another life, before the dead rose, she wouldn’t have even registered the exchange between the pair, but given the circumstances into which they had all been thrown, their topic of conversation seemed completely impossible.
“So, do you think you’ll go tonight? I hear Negan will be there. Someone told me it’s where he goes to pick his wives,” whispered a mousy looking brunette with thickly-framed glasses perched on her nose.
Her friend, a gorgeous blond woman with high cheekbones and bright eyes responded, “I still need to get some points together for makeup. I can’t go looking like this,” she said gesturing to her face, which Sarah thought looked perfectly fine sans makeup, “Maybe next week I’ll have enough if I’m careful. So, what else do you know about it?”
“They said it was on the third floor in a big warehouse room. They’ve got booze and music, and someone even found some flashing lights. It’s like a real night club,” replied the brunette.
The blond woman chuckled, “Only someone like Negan would prioritize a night club where he can shop for girls in the middle of the apocalypse.”
“Yeah well, if he picks you, you’re set. Wives don’t have to work for points. They just get to do whatever they want. I hear they still have TVs and DVDs up there in his private quarters. And books! I would kill for a book!”
“I’d kill for a chance to fuck Negan,” the blond giggled, “I’d climb that man like a mountain!”
Her friend slapped a hand over her mouth to keep her laughter quiet, “Oh my god! You’re so bad! Pervert!”
Sarah gathered her food and brought it a nearby table where she ate alone, her mind turning over the information she had gathered from the two women. If what she had overheard was true, there could be a chance for her to get out of this monotonous life of drudgery and into a more luxurious and exciting position. Maybe it wouldn’t be as free as life outside of the Sanctuary, but it was something new and different. She could spend the rest of her life filling her time with books and movies while forgetting that she was essentially a prisoner here.
She had work to do.
The following weeks were occupied with working overtime and saving points until Sarah was able to afford some of the supplies she needed for her plan. She knew that her typical jeans and t-shirt wouldn’t cut it when it came to getting the attention of the so called “king of the Saviours”, so she took it upon herself to purchase a tight, sparkly cocktail dress that had somehow made it into the Sanctuary’s commissary, as well as a nice push-up bra and a pair of fishnet stockings. Word on the street had it that Negan was a fan of fishnets, so she decided that it couldn’t hurt to wear them.
The cost of these items was tremendous and took nearly all of the points she had managed to save up by going without, but she knew that it would be worth it in the end. She would dig herself out of the circumstances she had been thrust into the only way she could: by seducing Negan and convincing him to take her as one of his wives. Tonight would be the night.
After checking her hair for the tenth time, Sarah inspected her face. She only had access to the few pieces of makeup she had with her when fleeing her home at the beginning of the outbreak. Very little of it had survived the journey to the Sanctuary, but she did manage to keep one tube of ruby red lipstick with her. She pulled off the cap and twisted up the tube before coating her plump lips with a coat of crimson. Not bad at all, she thought as she smiled at her reflection. She may not be the most stunning woman who ever graced the earth, but she cleaned up well. Hopefully, that would be enough.
During her research, Sarah had discovered that the night club only ran on Friday nights after work had finished for the day. It was twenty points to enter, and drinks were five points each. Negan sometimes went, and word had it that he indeed had selected some of his current wives from the crowds of citizens who gyrated to the music pumped through speakers from one of the few computers in the building that still worked.
Her shoes scuffed softly against the corridor’s tiled floor as she made her way toward her destination. She could hear the bass thudding inside the room while brightly-colored lights escaped the doorway to paint the adjacent wall with a rainbow of swirling neon. It made Sarah think about going to dances in her high school’s gymnasium as a teenager, only tonight she was here for much a more adult reason than to flirt with boys and maybe sneak some vodka with her friends in the ladies’ room.
She approached the door, which was guarded by a greasy-looking man in a white tank top. He regarded her, looking her up and down before simply saying, “Name?”
“Sarah,” she replied.
“You’re gonna have to be more specific, sweetheart. That’s a pretty common name.”
“Sarah Robertson.”
The man inspected a ledger that she assumed must contain point balances for the Sanctuary’s inhabitants. After a moment he looked up at her, “Its 25 points tonight, Sarah Robertson. The big man’s coming.”
“You mean Negan?” she asked, trying to hide her excitement. Her plan was coming together.
“I mean, he’s really the only big man worth mentioning right?” the bouncer said with an eye roll, “You gonna pay the extra 5 points, Sarah Robertson?”
“Sure, I guess I don’t really have much choice,” she mumbled.
“Then go ahead,” he replied, moving out of the way so she could enter the dimly-lit room.
Allowing her eyes to scan around her surroundings, Sarah noted that the room was already packed with men and women, and wondered why it had taken so long for her to find out about this place. Some danced in the far corner of the room near the speakers while others sat around the perimeter, nursing drinks and people watching. She made her way to the makeshift bar that had been set up at one end, and ordered a vodka tonic, giving her name to the bartender so that he could deduct points from her already plummeting balance.
After taking a seat, she began to sip her drink as she let her eyes wander around the room, looking for the man she intended to seduce. Negan was a striking man with broad shoulders and jet black hair. He would be very hard to miss, but as she scanned the room he was nowhere to be seen. Sarah supposed that he must be running late tonight.
The drink went down a little too easily, and she decided against having another as she wanted to keep her head clear. After several minutes of watching the crowd, Sarah decided that she should join the group of squirming people and dance. She didn’t want to make it too obvious that she was only here to stalk Negan, and he would probably notice her faster if she was in the middle of the dancefloor anyway.
She strolled to the perimeter of the crowd and began to sway to the music, her eyes still skimming the room for her target. The music was not exactly her favourite, but she tried to put on a good act of actually enjoying it. As her gaze drifted to the entryway for the twentieth time, her eyes lit up as she saw the man himself enter the room.
Negan strolled casually past the bouncer without even looking at him before striding casually to the bar to get a beverage. Sarah’s eyes followed him, admiring the man’s power and presence; wherever he went, crowds of people parted, allowing him access to whatever he wanted. Not wanting to be too obvious about her intentions, Sarah resumed dancing and tried her best to look appealing enough to catch his eye.
A couple of songs into this endeavour, she felt a pair of strong hands grip her waist roughly from behind as a man began to grind against her back. Sarah whirled around in surprise, hoping to find herself staring up at Negan, but instead coming face to face with a middle-aged man sporting an unfortunate moustache and a power donut.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he slurred at her, “I’s just dancing with ya. Yer so sexy!”
“No thanks. I don’t want to dance with you,” she said, trying to keep her voice light and to not show too much disdain for the man.
“Awe come on!” he said, grabbing for her again, “Juss a little dancey dance with me! Iss not a big deal!”
“Hey! Get your hands off of me!” Sarah yelled, jerking away.
The man was undeterred, “Come on, you lil’ bitch. What’d ya think was gonna happen coming in here like that.”
He took another step toward her as Sarah prepared herself for a fight. Before she had even balled her hands into fists, Mr. Power-Donut was jerked back by a huge hand on his right shoulder, “The lady said to fuck off, baldy! So kindly FUCK OFF!” the loud, rough voice came from the swirling shadows of the dance floor.
Mr. Power-Donut turned, his face contorting into a mask of horror as he realized who had intervened in his assault. Standing there, his face eddying with neon light, was Negan himself. He did not look impressed with the man’s antics.
“S-s-sorry, sir! I didn’t know she was one of yours!” Power-Donut stuttered, appearing to sober up lightning fast.
“She’s not one of mine,” Negan glared down at him, “But that shouldn’t matter. A lady says to fuck off and you fuck off. Got it?”
“G-got it, sir,” the bald man said, his eyes wide with fear.
“Now get the fuck out of here. If I see you back here, there will be a punishment,” Negan’s eyes burned into the man with rage. Power-Donut turned around, mumbling an apology to Sarah, before practically running for the door.
“You ok?” Negan asked her, his eyes softening a little.
“I think so,” Sarah replied, still in disbelief at her simultaneous luck and misfortune, “Thank you for helping me out.”
“No need to thank me. No one deserves that kind of bullshit,” he extended a gloved hand toward her in the darkness, “I’m Negan.”
Sarah giggled at his perceived need for an introduction and shook his hand, “I know exactly who you are. Everyone here does. I’m Sarah.”
“Sarah. That’s a pretty fucking name. Come here often, Sarah?”
“No, this is my first time,” she said, trying once again to not let her excitement show.
“Ah. A virgin, huh? That’s fucking fun!” he said a little too loudly. People dancing nearby began to side-eye the pair, trying not to let on that they were listening.
“Well, not exactly a virgin, but you get the idea,” she said, a blush coming into her cheeks.
“It’s so fucking cute when ladies blush like that,” Negan said with a predatory smile, “Well, Sarah, virgin or not, you’ve got my attention. Want to get out of here and fool around or something?”
For a moment, Sarah didn’t know what to say. She had envisioned their interaction taking a lot longer to come to this point, but it seemed that Negan had no time to play games with her.
“It’s ok to tell me to fuck off, you know,” he said, seeming to notice her hesitation, “I’m not like that other fucker. My ego can take the hit.”
“Wait! No, I want to get out of here!” Sarah cried, “I just wasn’t expecting you to be so forward.”
“Looks like there are some things about me you don’t know, Sarah. I’m really fucking direct. No time to beat around the proverbial bush” he said with a chuckle, “Well then, let’s get the fuck out of here and see where the night takes us,”
He offered her his arm and she took it, allowing herself to be led away from the crowds of people. The two made their way from the dancefloor and out of the room. Negan steered them through a series of corridors and stairwells before they found themselves in a part of the Sanctuary that Sarah had never been in before. She supposed that this must be his private quarters.
Pushing open a large door, Negan motioned for her to enter a room with him. Once inside, her eyes took in her surroundings: a large bed, fireplace, and plush arm chairs were featured prominently in the immaculate room.
“This isn’t my real bedroom,” Negan explained, “I’m neat, but not this much of a fucking clean freak. This is more of an audition room.”
Sarah’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “Audition?”
“Ok, not like a real audition or anything, don’t worry,” he said with a wink.
“That’s good,” Sarah replied, relieved, “What made you ask me to come back here with you?”
“Well, my dear, you caught my eye,” he replied, “I saw you all dolled up on that dance floor, and I know dresses like that do not come cheap in here. Then that prick started fucking with you, and I knew I had to get him out of there before he scared you off. Then you told me it was your first time in the club, and I put that together with the dress, and decided that you weren’t just there to dance. You were on a mission. Am I right, or am I fucking right?”
She sighed, annoyed that he had seen right through her plan, “You’re right. I was totally there to try to pick you up.”
“I’m not fucking surprised. It happens,” he shrugged, “Not to sound like a douchebag, you know, but word gets around about preference and habits in a small place like this. Then you start to notice an influx of ladies in night clubs wearing fishnets…”
“Shit!” she mumbled, “Here I thought I was being cleaver and original.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” he said, taking a step toward her, “I’m fucking flattered and you look hot as fuck tonight. So I thought, why not give you a little test. See what you’ve got to offer. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, of course.”
He moved a gloved hand to her shoulder, letting his fingers trail down her arm. A shiver run through her at his touch as she took a deep breath and moving toward him, head tilted up to meet his gaze. Their lips crashed together in a kiss and she felt his hands now moving along her back and down to grab at her ass. The kiss deepened, their tongues intertwining and fighting for space in one another’s mouth.
As their faces parted, a flash of lust went through Negan’s eyes and he pushed Sarah toward the bed. She allowed herself to be directed by him, and sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at the large man. Placing a hand on either side of his hips, her fingers lightly drifted down to the front of his pants and began to tug at his belt, loosening it. After a moment she had his pants undone and had pulled his hardening cock out into the open.
She looked up at him again to make sure that he was enjoying himself and was glad to see his pupils dilate as she began to stroke him, first lightly and then gripping him tighter in her hands. Negan’s breathing deepened and he let the faintest growl escape his mouth as he watched her work his cock manually before trailing her tongue around the head for an exploratory lick.
Sarah could feel excitement building in her as she took him into her mouth, letting her saliva cover his rigid length. She looked up at him once more before increasing her pace and sucking him a little harder. Another low moan came from the man and she felt his hands entwine themselves in her hair, guiding her mouth around him just the way he wanted.
“Fucking hell, baby, that feels magnificent,” he said with a slight chuckle, before guiding her mouth off of him, “But, I think it’s time to get you out of your pretty little dress, don’t you think?”
She gave him one last playful flick of her tongue against the tip of his cock before replying coquettishly, “I think that’s a very good idea,” Standing slowly, she maintained eye contact for a moment before turning her back to him, “Will you unzip me, please?”
She felt his huge fingers fiddle with the clasp at the top of the garment before undoing it and sliding the zipper toward her ass. The dress fell from her shoulders and to the floor; she turned around and allowed Negan to inspect her choice of undergarments.
“Mmm. Very fucking nice,” he said, biting his lower lip, and seeming to think for a moment before asking, “Can I rip the fishnets off of you? It would be so fucking hot!”
Sarah paused for a moment. The fishnets had cost her a fortune in points and they were hard to come by, but she knew that giving the man the time of his life was more important if she wanted to make her way into his harem of wives. They probably had boxes of fishnets. She shrugged, “Sure, sounds fun!”
Negan gently pushed her back onto the bed and ran his hands over her body, starting at her shoulders and then bringing them down to her hips and thighs. He hooked his fingers into a hole in the fabric around one of her inner thighs and tugged sharply. The strands of black thread holding the fishnets together began to tear, and the hole widened.
“Fuck yeah, that’s nice. That’s really fucking nice,” he repeated the action on the other side of the tights before making a hole just over her crotch, effectively creating a pair of crotch-less tights. She trembled as his firm touch lingered on the small scrap of fabric barely covering her slit.
“Hm. Feels like someone’s getting wet down here,” he said and hooked a finger under her panties to investigate, “In fact, feels like someone’s really fucking wet down here!”
He pushed a single finger into her folds and let it circle her clit, a smile playing on his face as she moaned at the sensation. After a moment, he added a second finger and plunged them deep into her pussy while tugging the panties aside with his other hand. Sarah gasped at the sudden sensation of fullness inside of her, raising her hips toward him slightly and closing her eyes.
“You like getting finger banged, baby?” he asked, his voice low and husky with desire, as he increased his pace.
“Fuck yes!” she said breathily, “That feels amazing.”
“Mmmm…and that’s just my fingers. Just imagine what my cock can do!” he said, “Do you want me inside of you, Sarah?”
She raised her eyes to meet his before saying, “Yes, I do. I want you to fuck my brains out.”
“That was the magic fucking word!” he said, then paused, “Well, magic fucking phrase, I suppose. You knew what I meant!”
Negan went to work tearing the fishnets the rest of the way off before pulling Sarah’s panties down over her legs and then tossing them on the floor. Sarah flipped herself over, sticking her ass into the air, “I like it doggy style, if that’s ok with you.”
“With an ass like that, I fucking insist on it,” he said, running a hand over her bottom before giving her a spank, “Sorry, I couldn’t fucking resist doing that. Your ass is just too fucking spankable.”
Sarah felt the head of his cock being rubbed against her opening, teasing her, before entering her from behind. The sensation of his thick cock stretching her open made her yelp, and she buried her face into the blankets to muffle her cries as he thrust into her. After a moment she felt Negan grab a handful of her hair at the crown of her head as he jerked her face up from the blankets, forcing an even louder cry from her mouth.
“Don’t get shy on me now, sweetheart. There’s no one here to scandalize, and I want to hear you screaming my name,” he whispered roughly into her ear, still fucking her vigorously.
“Fuck. Fuck, yes! Negan!” she cried, enjoying the mingling of pleasure with the burn of her hair being pulled.
“That’s fucking better,” he growled, increasing his speed and pounding himself deep into her.
“Don’t stop! You feel so good right now!” she whimpered. His cock was hitting the most perfect part of her, and she could feel her orgasm beginning to grow inside of her with every thrust.
He released her hair and dug his fingers into her hips, leaving marks that she knew would show the next day. She could hear his moans becoming more frequent and forceful as a hand pushed down against her back, forcing her bottom even higher into the air. His other hand slapped her ass again, this time a little bit harder.
“Fucking scream for me baby!” he growled at her from behind.
Sarah let out a guttural sound, her fingers winding into the sheets as he fucked her over the precipice of her pleasure. She began to shake, calling his name over and over as she came, before collapsing to the mattress as Negan pulled out and finished himself off all over her ass, moaning her name loudly for her to hear.
Once his orgasm had ceased, he allowed himself to fall to the bed beside her, breathing heavily. Sarah lay on her stomach, watching his chest rise and fall. She let her fingers reach up and glide across it, sliding through his chest hair and to his jaw where she softly turned his face to her so she could kiss him once again.
“Fuck, baby. That was really fucking nice,” he huffed, staring at her through hooded eyes, “I think I want to do that again.”
“Oh really?” Sarah said, raising a quizzical eyebrow.
“Fucking really. I’ve got a question for you,” he said, as he sat up to look for something to clean her up with.
“What’s that?” she asked, raising her hips off of the bed so he could wipe off his leavings with a towel he had found in the room’s closet.
“Ever been married?”
102 notes · View notes
setoangel01-fanfiction · 8 years ago
Text
Disaster
Set Me Free - Chapter 5 (Previous Chapters)
Rated: T
Fandom: Sing 2016
Pairing: Ash x Johnny
Story Summary: Ash desperately tries to rationalize her new-found attraction toward Johnny - it doesn’t go so well…or does it? I guess it depends on who you ask.
Chapter Summary: Ash suffers an emotional relapse/breakdown when she realizes something invaluable is now missing from her life.
Fanfiction.net
A03
Solid weight of Johnny's leather jacket around her shoulders, Ash slowly ambled after him toward the direction of his truck. Ankle protesting the movement but not close to painful enough to warrant stopping to appease it. Yet, as they approached, her own trepidation over this entire situation seemed to calm even if she was still reluctant to accept the gorilla's kindness. The reasoning was foreign to her but some part of her knew that pushing it aside now would only make her situation worse.
Instead, Ash fed into the mantra of "the sooner I get home, the sooner it'll be over" to deal with those doubts lingering in the back of her mind.
No, it wouldn't exactly be all unicorns and rainbows the second she walked into her apartment. Far from it considering her life as well as her career were slowly imploding and shattering like broken glass all around her, (seeing the tattered remains of her ex's belongings scattered around wouldn't help either) but at least she'd finally be alone like she so desperately craved…
"Here we are! Wasn't too bad of a walk for you, was it?" Johnny announced upon approaching a black, slightly damaged pick-up truck.
Ash slowed her steps to a trickle as she moved to catch up with the tall gorilla. Ice blue eyes lifting to the vehicle and she was instantly regretting accepting his offer already when she saw there was no feasible way she could physically reach the door handle. The shiny chrome openly mocking her vertically-challenged nature.
Fucking typical.
"I-I know it isn't much, but gets you from A to point B." Johnny continued; once he no doubt noticed Ash was not going to verbally respond. His pleasant voice droning on was rather grating on her frayed nerves and her tense quills prickled at the fate that befell her today. They nearly just died and he had the nerve to be pleasant and accommodating - it bothered her more than it admittedly should have, but she didn't care at the moment.
For long silent seconds, Ash stared up at the shiny silver door handle and wondered just how the hell she was going to -
All thoughts fell to the wayside when Johnny suddenly appeared at her side and opened the door with a smooth flick of his wrist. His other arm guiding as a gesture of invitation if his toothy smile was an indication enough. If she wasn't already in the throes of depression, humiliation, and near hypothermia she would have thought it was rather sweet.
She barely noticed as his smile suddenly fell and his eyes flicked from the interior of the car and back over to her than further to her ankle. As if suddenly jolted, he knelt down a bit and offered his hand to her.
Ash's eyes lowered to his proffered palm than back to the much too elevated seats; the reoccurring pain in her ankle made it apparent she was not going to humiliate herself further by trying to get up there by herself. Still, she refused to thank him or even spare him another glance whilst she placed her small paw in his large palm and he helped her amble her way up and through the door until she was comfortably seated atop the worn leather seats. Johnny's jacket still draped around her shoulders, she tightened her hold on it when he gingerly closed the door behind her.
Johnny walked around to the rear of the truck, and for a quick moment while he was absent, Ash rested her head back on the seat as her eyes lazily trailed over the interior.
It was clean if a bit worn from use; a few receipts and such littered the center console but other than that, there were no personal effects really. Just a simple air freshener clip fastened onto one of the air vents to give any indication this truck was used much at all. The seat she was sitting on was well indented; springs worn out as she collapsed a bit into the seat so it was obvious someone very heavy frequently sat here. Johnny was large compared to her but pretty small for a full-grown gorilla, so she doubted he was the culprit.
Thoughts immediately scattered when the driver side door suddenly swung open and Ash flinched when she saw Johnny re-adjusting his sweater and it was only now she noticed the visible wrinkles from where he must have removed it to wring it out. The thought of this had her face and tips of her ears heating for reasons she didn't dare ponder long. Forcefully thrusting those out of her head, she instead reached for the seat-belt and strapped herself in if only to give herself something to do. Namely to avoid eye-contact and to lead those previous thoughts astray.
"Alright." Johnny chuckled as he scooted in the driver's seat and applied his seat-belt with a satisfying click. "Y-You ready to go?
"As ready as I'll ever be." she quipped, pulling his jacket tighter around her shoulders to try and shield herself away from his gaze as well as the world and its harsh circumstances.
Johnny didn't verbally reply, just quietly adjusted the mirrors before he placed the keys in the ignition; with a twist, the engine started up with a loud roar.
Ash visibly flinched at the disturbance but other than that, kept silent as her eyes strayed to as much of the outside world she could see from the elevated window. Quietly pondering for a quick second just how long she was going to be stuck in here; the traffic had been backed up because of the theater collapse and she doubted the crews were that hasty in clearing out the debris from the road. A sigh itching to release from her terse throat, she was rather shocked when he began driving smoothly along the block before quickly peeling down an adjacent alley and away from the congested intersection up ahead.
Rather curious on his foresight to park in this spot or even see the nearly invisible alleyway, it trailed away as he pumped the gas even further. She was pushed further back into the seat by the velocity; hands digging into his jacket to keep herself somewhat grounded. She spared the gorilla a quick glance but he paid her no heed; brown eyes laser-focused on the road as well as flicking to the rear-view and side mirrors. Did he think there was someone following them?
Whatever it was, it was rather surprising to learn that the normally serene Johnny could be such a manic driver…
Not gonna lie, it really freaked her the fuck out when he abruptly sped up; turning and almost drifting, tires squealing erratically as he pulled in front of oncoming traffic to suddenly hug the right lane. The honk from the fast-moving cars had her quills tensing and rising of their own accord - body jostling with the velocity of the truck.
Ash's sudden audible gasp was enough for Johnny to immediately slam on the brakes at the upcoming red light; the honk from passing cars still blaring at him until fading from the blood that was coursing through her ears. Her ears as well as one eye was twitching; quills probably piercing his jacket but if anything, he deserved it.
"Sorry." he whispered; sending her a nervous smile which she returned with a rather salty glare and an eye roll.
Ash was tempted to reply with some sarcastic remark such as "We already almost died once today - what's tempting fate once more gonna hurt?"
Instead, she valiantly held her tongue and hoped to God he dare not try the same stunt again - not unless he wanted a side full of quills anyway. Not bothering to even verbally question where the hell he'd learned to drive like a maniac; she just swallowed it back and hoped he didn't end up killing them both before they even got close to her apartment.
Once the light flashed green, Ash was pleasantly surprised at the slower speed he began traveling instead of gunning it like she expected him to. It was enough that it almost relaxed her as he continued ahead; the pleasant bumps along the road and the soothing ride calming her tense nerves. It'd been a long while since she took anything but public transportation; the stench of unwashed homeless people hogging the seats and the dirty floor littered with food wrappers and other disgusting paraphernalia were never at all pleasant but it's all her and Lance could afford.
Ash had to admit that being in a car…was nice.
Not having to halt at each and every stop, causing what would have been only a mile down the road turn into a thirty to forty minute bus or train ride that it probably would have been faster to walk in the long run. So, pushing aside her own trepidation at her situation, she just enjoyed the ride.
It occurred slow at first, like light pinpricks pushing through a dark cloud; her own panic of her two near-death scares that froze her heart began melting away with the smooth journey. Still very much dealing with the fact the theater collapsed and her career went with it still bothered her immensely, but for now, she decided to focus on the road in front of her. The trees, the birds and varying colors of buildings like a blurred painting partially filling her vision.
Pain and the sting of Lance's betrayal and the death of her career kept her feeling much of anything but the few emotions that flitted through the cracks were what kept her questioning everything.
Namely Johnny.
Ash's eyes left the window for a second to take him in. Posture much more relaxed as he kept his eyes steadfast on the road; one hand holding the wheel while the other lay lax on his lap. To think she met this guy a little more than a week ago and had never conversed farther than the two times during the short competition. For being a virtual stranger, the gorilla was almost too kind to her; too pure for her own problems and the cruel, harsh world they lived in.
Yet, if he noticed or it bothered him in the least, he didn't say anything - it seemed to just be a part of his nature and that both frustrated and arose curiosity in her. The calmness he emitted during this whole incident was astounding; Ash just couldn't wrap her head around it at all.
Just who was this guy?
"Uh, I probably should have asked this before we left, but uh - where do you live?" Johnny's voice suddenly cut through the quiet air and Ash whipped her head away when she realized she had been staring unabashedly at him.
Cheeks aflame, Ash muttered out her address into the lapels of his jacket and Johnny just nodded and made a left a few blocks ahead toward the direction of her apartment.
Mind flitting fast, she rationalized her own questions and her own actions regarding the gorilla to her left. Reasoning her own curiosity and the need to sate it. Lance left her rather timid and resistant to trust so soon - so why did she seem to fall for it so fast again?
Pushing those notions aside, she focused once more on the drive; the sound of the pavement as the tires rolled over it. The sound of him adjusting the gear shift as he accelerated or decelerated. The obvious squeak as he pressed the clutch during a stop at a red light. It was all quite relaxing even if her heart was still trying to figure out a normal rhythm. Pretty soon, it was completely silent once again. Before, Ash had not even noticed the radio had been on this whole time; the mild voice and gentle vibrato (from what had to be an oldies station) could barely be heard above the rumble of the engine and the constant flood of thoughts clogging her mind.
Ash continued to remain silent as Johnny's hand reached out to turn on the heat and it was only now she realized she had been shivering.
Not bothering to thank him, Ash's gaze gravitated toward the outside world once again. The other cars passing by with a whoosh along the busy streets; buildings and people passing with blurry shapes and colors as her eyes suddenly misted over with tears. Body reacting to her own emotional pain she'd pushed aside was rising up in her and she was forced to pinch her thigh hard; refusing to cry anymore until she was in the comfort and seclusion of her apartment.
For once today, her body obeyed her.
Within five minutes, Ash began to notice more familiarity in the neighborhood and knew they were within a block of her residence. In just a minute, they'd be at her place. Figuring out she should prepare to leave his car, her hand suddenly vacated from the warmth of his jacket; subconsciously reaching to the seat next to her. Fully expecting to rest upon a familiar case holding her guitar…
…her hand hit the cool leather seat instead.
As if a horrific wartime flashback physically hit her, Ash suddenly tensed; breath fast and labored as she whipped her head and stared wide-eyed in complete panic at the empty seat.
Her guitar.
Her treasured red Fender.
The treasured red Fender that she learned her first song on.
The one positive thing to come out of her and Lance's relationship.
It had been there with her for five years; she learned every single note, chord, and song on it. Poured countless hours, blood, sweat, and tears into that beautiful guitar…
…and now, it wasn't here…
"Are you alright?" Johnny's voice spoke but she didn't hear it past the roaring of blood and pulse pounding frantically in her ears; heart palpitating painfully in her chest.
Ash suddenly thought back to that day; her hand upon it like earlier before their performances. Resting her hand on the case as she awaiting her turn to sing. The bears. The chest. The splintering glass. Water rushing out. The collapse…
…the theater collapsed with it still inside…
Her stomach suddenly turned as the harsh reality hit her at once.
Without warning, Ash let out a blood-curdling scream.
A screech of breaks had the seat-belt digging into her chest and the sudden whiplash caused her to catch herself on his dashboard; blue eyes wide and frantic as she panicked.
"W-What!? What's wrong? What happened? A-Are you alright?" Johnny asked in a panicky voice; large hands clenching the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white. His concerned brown eyes glancing down at the hyperventilating girl to his right - it looked as if she'd seen a ghost.
"...Ash?" he asked again when she still hadn't answered.
"My guitar…." she gasped, "My guitar was in there!" hands pulling desperately at her quills and shoulders trembling like a leaf as she stared off at some fixed point.
Johnny stayed silent for a long time until the line of cars behind him started blaring their horns and he had no choice but to pull over; it was merely coincidence that it was right in front of her apartment.
"Y-Your guitar was at the theat-" he began.
"YES!" Ash bellowed; eyes frantic and body tense as she suddenly snapped her head to stare at him. "Turn around NOW! I need to go back to get it!" Ash was now in complete anxiety mode as her fingernails dug into the seat underneath her.
Johnny was at complete loss as he stared at her than back in his rear-view mirror at the steady stream of traffic that wasn't going to clear anytime soon. He was desperate to stay reasonable but with how she was panicking, Johnny didn't think she'd be satisfied with any answer he gave.
"B-But there's cops everywhere! There's no way they're going to let you rummage through the debris." Johnny spoke way too calmly; the voice of reason, but Ash was not wanting to hear it right now.
He just didn't understand! No one did!
"Maybe if you go tomorrow, I'm sure they'll be willing to help you fi-" Johnny started before Ash cut him off.
"NO! I need to go now and if you won't take me, I'll just go by myself!" Ash muttered, fighting a bit with the seat belt before it finally released.
Pushing the heavy leather jacket off her shoulders before she opened the door and bounded out of the car against her better judgment. Remembering just in time to catch herself with her unhurt foot before it hit the cracked pavement. It still wasn't enough distribution of weight; within seconds, she'd fallen to her hands and knees. Ignoring the pain infiltrating her palms, she pulled herself up and began hobbling back toward the direction of Moon Theater.
Barely registering when Johnny exited the vehicle to sprint to her side.
"Ash! Oh, bollocks - you can't walk there! It's much too far with your ankle!" Johnny pleaded but it fell on deaf ears as she pushed forward. "C'mon, please! You're hurt." he continued, bravely reaching forward to grasp gingerly at her arm but it wasn't enough to stop her as she yanked it away from his gentle hold as if she'd been burned.
"Don't touch me! Let me GO!" she screamed and the look on his face was as if he'd been physically slapped.
Yet the look fell away and Johnny persisted.
"Please be reasonable. Even if you walk all the way there, they have it all blocked off. The police are investigating and believe me, they usually take quite a long time to -" he started before cutting himself off, "A-Anyway, I doubt they'll let you go rummaging through it all now. If you just wait, I'm sure the crews will help you locate it."
Ash stopped walking; the shooting pain overcoming her anxiety for only a moment.
Johnny breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her stop.
"Good. I-I'm sure if you go tomorrow they'll happily assist you. I'll even drive you if you want. Don't worry about it - I'm sure it'll all be okay." he continued, a smile on his face even if she wouldn't see it considering her back was turned to him.
Ash was silent for a long time before she rotated back to him and her expression and words were nothing Johnny was expecting.
"Everything is NOT going to be fucking okay…" Ash screamed and Johnny flinched at her powerful voice and harsh curse that stained her lips.
"It's not…it's just NOT…" she sobbed, absolutely hating how fast the warm tears were slipping down her cheeks and onto the pavement below. Fists tight and almost painful as she stared up at him with so much obvious disdain. Hating how she was acting but so caught up in her own pain and misery that she hardly recognized it or herself.
"..." Johnny was speechless as she continued.
"Nothing is ever going to be okay - never again!" Ash became completely unhinged and angry at everything. Lance for being a conniving cheating asshole, her for falling for it for over five years, Buster for lying about the prize, those damn bears for nearly killing them all and making her lose her irreplaceable guitar in the process - just everything that could have went wrong - did. And now, here was Johnny having the gall to tell her it would all be alright.
…what damn fairy-tale world was he living in!?
"Don't you get it?" she whimpered with a mirthless chuckle lacing her throat. "I lost everything -my asshole boyfriend, my career, my guitar…everything." She would later wondering why the hell she unleashed all her pain and torment on him; basically screamed out her whole life story of 'woe is me' to a virtual stranger.
"I have nothing now…NOTHING!" she screamed; suddenly feeling as if she was in the midst of an anxiety attack and the walls of reality were quickly closing in on her.
Ash needed to leave, needed desperately to be alone. She made a break for it - ankle screaming at her as she suddenly ran toward her apartment door. Fumbling up the stairs and pulling her keys out from her pocket. Ignoring how Johnny began hesitantly approaching, she yanked open the door when he finally spoke.
"Ash, please wait!" Johnny shouted at her back but she slammed the door in his face.
Back pressed against it for a moment as she awaited his voice, but it never came…
Within seconds, she collapsed in front of her door like she had the night she threw Lance out; the night her boyfriend of five years left her for some shameless slut from high school.
The night her world turned upon its head before completely shattering around her.
There was nothing left - no boyfriend, no aspiring career, and the one instrument she had was gone now; crushed within the remains of the Moon Theater.
Ash had absolutely nothing now…
Sobs began overtaking her body as she curled herself in front of the door. Spines poking into the thick wooden frame but she didn't care as she pushed her sodden face into her hands and wailed.
It wasn't until a few minutes later when Johnny's car engine started and he was gone.
16 notes · View notes
maine-writes · 8 years ago
Text
Maine Goes to BananaPie Con
It was an idyllic day in the city. The pigeons were cooing, the sun was shining, herds of ponies flowed through the crossings and sidewalks, and a grey step van zoomed past every red light, screeching at every turn and dodging every car. The van, with the words, “Owl Exterminators”, emblazoned on either side in big red letters, screeched to a halt in front of the local convention center, throwing an unconscious and probably mostly alive griffon from the roof. 
“We’re here!” Patty said to me from the driver’s seat, “Don’t spend too much!”
As soon as I hopped out, the van immediately drove away, followed by a caravan of police cars. 
I made my way into the convention center, passing through one of a row of glass doors, walking up some stairs, passing some public art that, strangely enough, resembled a pair of ponies wearing sunday bonnets, and found myself in the retail area. Among the many food vendors, I discovered Belgian Waffle selling coffee and, of course, waffles. Choosing waffles over the sad excuse of ponized woodland critter food in the next retail space, I waited in line behind a good-sized herd of ponies, most of whom were dressed up. Some carried cameras, some lugged around large bags of things they bought. I was waiting behind an aquamarine mare with a pink mane wearing a banana costume. Sitting next to her was a banana themed bag. At first, I thought nothing of it, but then I noticed a set of pinkish appendages hanging out of it. I glanced up at the pony, seeing that she was in the middle of conversing with some other pony about how happy she was that she got the day off, and decided to investigate the strange slimy tentacles. As I reached out to one of the limp limbs, it wriggled and writhed toward my paw, and a curious cephalopod emerged from the bag. “Uhh, hi.” I said, not knowing what else to say to an octopus. 
After waiting about half an hour, I finally got my large soda and bag of maple-flavoured waffle bites. I made my way to the main hall, where all the stalls were. The massive candy colored crowd resembled a vast sea of color, with visible currents as ponies followed paths between the stalls. Large yellow, banana-themed banners draped the walls, and the smell of bananas and pony filled the air. At the far end of the massive space was a large stage, there I spied a distant light red unicorn bouncing around; I guessed it was Banana Pie entertaining everypony. 
I took a chance with the current of ponies, eventually finding myself in front of a banana car; Banana Pie’s latest Banamobile. As one would expect, it was a giant banana with wheels. A bespectacled marigold, or probably light brown, earth pony with a pencil cutie mark talked to a small, bluish-grey pegasus perched on his head about touching the Banamobile. 
I wandered about the stalls, pondering what to buy from the variety of vendors. As I passed by Dewdust’s Banana Dust stall, I heard a voice call to me. “Hey little criiter.” a cafe noir mare with a black and grey mane beckoned, “Looking to buy something interesting?”
“How did you know?” I inquired, my eyes full of wonder.
“You’ve been narrating what you’ve been doing this whole time.” replied the pale yellow pony with a mostly blue mane in the adjacent stall. They were both selling some art, most of them banana themed, but there was something about the two of them. I eyed the two of them, humming audibly. Their two stalls were connected by a single sign simply reading, “Arts”. 
“So, are you going to buy anything?” one of them asked, uncomfortable with how my snout was slowly inching closer to theirs. 
I made my way up several flights of stairs, carrying a bag full of rolled-up drawings that were as tall as I am, arriving at the hall of meeting rooms, where panels and other small event were being hosted. I decided to peek in through one of the open doorways. Inside, a blue unicorn was hosting a panel called, “How to Draw Realistic Bananas”. However, the drawing that he was presenting to a small group of young artists was not a realistic banana, but a crudely drawn basic banana comprised of a brown square and a yellow curved shape, like a smile. 
I moved onto the next open door, which led into a dimly lit room. On one end was a stage, and in front of it was a number of chairs, most of them occupied by ponies. I took a seat, curious as to why they were there, and shortly afterward, a spotlight shone upon the stage while a simple supposedly inspirational track played. “Ladies and gentlemen!” announced a female voice, “Introducing Cherry Blossom!” A pink unicorn with a big poofy mane rose from a somewhere beneath the stage, accompanied by distinct the whir of machinery. Standing motionlessly next to her was a robotic version of Banana Pie. 
“Nope. I’m out of here.” I said, hopping off the chair and walking out. Artificial Banana Pies can only lead to trouble. 
Speaking of trouble, as I exited the dimly lit room, a tired looking coyote colored unicorn approached me. “Excuse me,” she whispered, “Do you know wher-”
I instinctively hissed at her, my fur poofed up, and I immediately scurried away as quickly as my little critter feet could, leaving my loot behind with the now confused unicorn. I was overcome with a primal fear, a sense of danger, and I ended up scurrying to a room where several paramedic ponies were stationed. There I saw one of the paramedics caring for a bistre and moss green unicorn with glazed over white eyes. The unresponsive unicorn was foaming from the mouth and droning listlessly. I also saw Ivan, local celebrity and taco lover, being wheeled away on a gurney. “Too. Many. Deep-fried bananas.” he moaned. 
“Man, this thing gets weirder and weirder every year.” I mused to myself. 
“Yeah, really.” a random voice agreed. Standing in the doorway beside me was an arctic fox wearing a banana costume. She was carrying a large bag, stuffed with Banana Pie dolls. I loved their little button eyes. 
“Where did yo-?” I began.
“I bought them all.” she immediately replied. “All of them.” 
BananaPie Con was pretty fun.
@askbelgianwaffle @frieswithyourorder @quest-for-the-dreamstone @dewdusts @techbro-arts @asktomandwireframe @symbianl @askparch @pony-ivan @kessy-doggo @askbananapie
20 notes · View notes
roxannedarling · 6 years ago
Text
Day 6: 861 Words
I was thinking of a topic while swimming in the pool. I wonder if I can remember it.
[pause to breathe]
Empty mind. LOL, so rare when meditating, and yet so easy here and now.
From my desk, I can look out and see a small stairway up the side hill in my yard. My partner, Shane, built the stairs for me as the hill was too steep for me to easily climb up and down. At the top of the hill, is a cleared pathway to the other end of the yard, I would guess it's about 40 feet long. I call this the Fairy Forest because my friend Bridget helped me do the clearing and plant greenery along the steps.
Bridget has a business called Unicorn Square. She makes hand-made fairies and sells crystal unicorn horns with handmade pouches. She celebrates fairy energy all year round and ignores the traditional holidays - which as we know have been hijacked into guilt-inducing commercial enterprises.
The fairies have a single message: We believe in you! And they encourage love and presence in the environment, being true to and accepting of oneself, and belief in the magic of the universe.
I don't walk the path very often and yet, I treasure its existence. It's like parks and green spaces all around the world - even when empty, I believe they're providing a service. And by service, I really mean giving us some lovely energy. Some people naturally wonder, "If it's so special, how come it's not used all the time by the hordes of people who live adjacent to it?"
Good question, I suppose. But I answer with a question. "What if the purpose of open space is to hold the space for us?" There is so much value in having the views, for one. And even more value in having places where so-called normal life stops and the natural environment starts. Basic biology reminds me that those trees and grasses are making oxygen for us to breathe. Can't say that about asphalt, now can we?
My inner critic is wanting me to use this time to wax poetically on this topic, as if I can instantly morph into Mary Oliver or W.S. Merwin or John Muir or Henry David Thoreau. This is an issue I struggle with. I see something. I love it. I know I am gifted in many ways. So I should be able to do that stuff myself. I *want* to be able to do that stuff myself. It draws me into so many uncompleted projects, makes my Todoist fat and bloated with possibilities, and usurps some of my energy just by existing somewhere in my life.
It's taking me quite a long time in my life (I'm talking decades I've been grappling with this) to settle in on a few things and explore them to the depth I want. Without wanting to engage the entire realm of possibilities. It's trendy right now to talk about the squirrels and shiny things, the many distractions brought to us by social media. But I had this problem (you're supposed to say, 'challenge,' Roxanne) long before Facebook and Twitter. It has been typical of me to be working on 8-12 projects at a time.
It's embarrassing to write that out loud. But. I am in a committed era of radical self-acceptance right now. (And a new bird I've not noticed before just started going at it outside my window!) So I'll emphasize, I'm in an era of radical self-acceptance.  
This daily writing exercise is a new attempt to stick with something I believe can support at least three of my projects: my book of poems with nude self-portraits, my book/slash memoir about my transition in consciousness, and also my podcast, In the Transition.
(I like that there's no format or link functionality here in this app. Just the words.)
And I seriously don't know why I was so resistant to writing as a muscle-building exercise. I think it may be related to my long experience with journaling.
Last year, I threw away dozens of old journals. I had them since high school. In scanning through them, I was shocked by the amount of repetition of issues and ideas from year to year. I was bored reading my same whiny POV. I resented having two boxes of them that I've hauled around for years. I double resented them for thinking I should go back through them and make sense of them AND somehow transcribe them and turn them into "something useful." I've been all about the "make it useful, Rox! Don't waste things!"
It was so liberating. I pulled out a few pages here and there that I saved - I had a preference for pages with drawings on them. :-) Then, poof, off they went to the rubbish bin.
Be Here Now. I feel a lot happier staying in the Present and only dipping into the past for jokes or a little reference now and then. But not as my mainstay.
For now, I'm grateful for another day of writing and typing practice. Thank you 750 words dot com.
861 Words
0 notes