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thefinalcinderella · 1 year ago

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Tsurune Book 3 Chapter 5 - Declaration (Part 1)

whoa it's been more than a month since i posted here

anyways masamina fans come get ur food

Glossary here

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

The original Japanese is "生者必滅、会者定離", which contains the characters for kai and hanare

These are all traditional Japanese wind instruments

Takamagahara is the home of the gods in Shintoism

An imina is the real name of a noble or deceased person

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The light rain was falling onto their kyudo raincoats.

Minato and Shuu were visiting the kyudojo where Saionji had taught them when they were young. It was the perfect place for intensive training as they could avoid the public eye. But something unexpected happened.

“Please let us join the Saionji school,” the twins Senichi and Manji said.

“I as well. I would very much like to learn from the master of the Saionji school of kyudo,” Seiya said after them.

Saionji’s eyes crinkled into a smile. “Oh my, you are all being very dramatic, aren’t you? I don’t have such a sign put up, though. Do you have the approval of your current teachers?”

“Yes, there is no problem.” “Please let us become your disciples.” “Please.” The three refused to budge, their heads bowed. Saionji laughed aloud as he looked at the three round heads lined up.

“I’m not taking any disciples, but let us draw our bows together. It’s a pleasure to have more companions. I welcome you all.”

Seiya bowed deeply, and Senichi and Manji pumped their fists.

First, they swept, sang prayers, read sutras, meditated for three minutes, and did warm-up exercises. Then, Saionji told them to do these things at home next time.

“It has been a long time since I’ve held a bow in front of people, but Fujiwara-kun asked me to do it, so I had no choice but to accept it. Please watch my shooting.”

Saionji went before the targets with four arrows. He raised his bow up high. His eyes were half-closed, similar to the Buddha’s meditative state. The genuine article couldn’t hide his brilliance even when he became old. The rain hid the scenery that should have been visible, even erasing the sounds of people that should have been audible.

The drawn bow overflowed with joy and begged him not to let go yet. The kyudo terms “kai” and “hanare” came from the Last Teaching of the Buddha, “Death is the doom of every living thing, those who meet must part.” (1) The truth that no one could overturn, and a proud statement of will by the archer who accepted his mortality but never stopped walking. The bow and archer were together until the very end.

When the arrow landed at twelve o’clock, just before the target frame, Senichi and Manji let out cries of admiration.

The second arrow landed at six o’clock, also right before the target frame.

The third shot hit the target at nine o’clock, near the target frame once again. At this point, Seiya’s body was trembling. “N-No way,” Senichi and Manji muttered. Shuu and Minato were silent.

For the last shot, Saionji hit the target at three o’clock, the arrow just grazing the target frame.

Minato went to collect the arrows. Meanwhile, Senichi and Manji were still extremely excited.

“It’s difficult just to hit the target, but to hit the target in different directions!? That’s superhuman!”

Unusually, Shuu showed emotion on his face. That was no wonder, since his master granted his disciple’s wish. He was intoxicated with this greatest luxury.

“Aim at the target without aiming, while having the skill to hit the spots he’s aiming at. After personifying a hundred shots, he aims for even higher peaks. Awa-hanshi from Zen in the Art of Archery was able to do the same thing, apparently. I feel incredibly fortunate to be able to be in this miraculous place.”

“As expected of Shuu’s master. I got goosebumps.”

“It feels like a legend becoming truth, and truth becoming myth.”

Senichi and Manji were speaking enthusiastically, but Seiya felt something like despair.

“I’ve heard about it, but when I actually see it with my own eyes, it just makes me realize how weak I am. No matter how much I practice, I don’t think I’ll ever reach that level.”

When Minato returned from arrow collecting, the five of them sat in front of Saionji.

“My earlier shots are improper, so please don’t copy them. The way of the bow is about perfecting one’s personality and uniting with nature. It is not about hitting a target with arrows. It would be difficult to suddenly free your mind from obstructive thoughts, so the first step is to visualize good form. Believe in yourself and love yourself wholly even if you are hopeless. Then verbalize ‘I can do it’ and fix that into your brain. Your brain will faithfully respond to your words and send commands to each part of your body. If you change your thinking, your body will also change.”

Shuu added, “This is an easy-to-understand example of the placebo effect. If you take a simple nutritional supplement after hearing that it’s ‘medicine,’ your symptoms would recover or be alleviated. It has been medically proven that the expectation or pleasure of a drug activates the part of the brain that boosts the immune system.”

“That’s right. And if we go one step further and follow the voice of our inner soul rather than the voice of our brain, the powers we have as living beings will begin to function. Saying ‘keep at it’ with your heart even when your body is tired will only create an estrangement. Your soul should be telling you that it wants to rest.”

“So, you’re saying that the words uttered by the body, mind, and soul should be the same.”

“We are immature creatures who have not yet matured as humans. It could also be interpreted as saying that we still have room to grow. When we learn to listen to the voices of our inner souls, good situations naturally follow.”

Then, they let out yagoe.

As soon as they released their arrows, they let out a powerful “Yah!”

Minato and Shuu roared without hesitation. It was a lion’s roar. In the other martial arts kendo and judo, one shouted kiai, but this technique had somehow disappeared in kyudo. Seiya, unused to it, was reserved, but Senichi and Manji shouted without hesitation.

“Whoa, this actually feels good.”

Saionji observed everyone’s shooting forms.

“Keep stretching, keep stretching. Yes, that’s perfect.”

“When you reach daisan, your right elbow will remain tense. At kai, the bow hand and sword hand twist, as though wringing a rag.”

They also practiced stretching out their arms and lightly gripping the pillars, then twist their elbows without moving their hands.

After finishing two hours of practice, Minato took out his bento box.

There was takoyaki inside.

“There might not be enough since it was intended for three people. Shuu is around here.”///

Senichi and Manji were glued to Shuu.

“It’s kinda refreshing to see Shuu eating takoyaki in his kyudo clothes.”

“Sen, Man, if you’re not going to eat them, then I’ll have them.”

“Hey, wait, we’re eating them! What, this is really good.”

“They seem to contain the Narumiya family’s secret ingredients.”

“No wonder Shuu loves takoyaki.”

Senichi and Manji devoured them in no time, and Shuu, who was trying to enjoy them thoroughly, stared at the empty bento box.

When they were about to head home, Saionji stopped Minato and Shuu, and asked Seiya, Senichi, and Manji to return home first.

The rain had stopped before they knew it.

The azaleas withstood the weight of their wet petals.

On the scarred floor of the dojo, the long shadows of one man and two boys faced each other.

The sun tilted to the west, dyeing the horizon red, and the sky became a river of deep blue and madder. Purple-tinged clouds dyed by two-colored light flowed slowly along the river. The clouds constantly changed their expressions as they drifted, never remaining in the same shape. Everything returned to the mother sea.

The setting sun gave off its last rays behind Saionji’s shoulders.

“The statute of limitations has already expired. I was hiding something from both of you. In actuality, I told Narumiya-kun’s mother that he was drawing a bow under my tutelage. After the accident, Fujiwara-kun was saddened by the fact that he wasn’t informed of anything. It was a foolish act on my part. I apologize.”

Shuu was ashamed.

“Since Saionji-sensei didn’t say anything, I thought that there must have been some sort of deep reason behind it. I also knew that it wasn’t as though Minato had suddenly lost interest in kyudo.”

Saionji looked into Minato’s eyes and continued.

“Narumiya-kun’s mother once watched a match that you and Fujiwara-kun were in. She told me that she cheered for you both. The promise that you made with your mother has already been fulfilled. Please be rest assured.”

“…Yes, thank you.”

Shuu put his hand on Minato’s shoulder. A faint vibration was felt.

“I guess it was bad of me to keep things a secret… After the accident, I distanced myself from the kyudojo and didn’t contact anyone. Because of that, I made Shuu worry as well. I’m sorry, Shuu.”

“I understand, there’s no problem. I’m glad that your mom was able to watch your shooting.”

He responded by lightly patting Shuu’s hand on his shoulder. Afterwards, something spilled over and wetted his hakama.

Around that time, Kuon, a first-year from Kirisaki, was stretching his legs on a chair. He was watching the footage of the yabusame competition that took place the other day on his phone.

“Fujiwara-senpai, how beautiful you are. In comparisons, how impudent that commoner is!”

On the screen was Minato answering interview questions. Kuon tossed his phone onto the side chair and grabbed several pages of documents.

This was the report from the detective agency.

“Narumiya Minato, born on December 21. Graduated from Kotonoha Elementary School, graduated from Kirisaki Middle School, has a medical history… What, he has such an obvious weakness? This might be useful.”

Kuon uncrossed his legs and stood up. He called for a maid.

“Give this detective his completion bonus. Also, tell him that there are additional requests. The others are incompetent, so keep them out of my sight.”

“Yes, sir.”

When the maid left, the corner of Kuon’s mouth raised.

The sound of a flute resounded through Yata Shrine.

Gagaku music was being performed to the members of the Kazemai kyudo club, who were gathered in the front shrine. Minato and the others, sitting in seiza, waited impatiently for the moment when the performance would begin.

Gagaku was a form of Japanese classical music, and was a unique art that combines traditional Japanese music and dance with music introduced from the continent. It boasted a history of more than 1,200 years, and many people might have heard it at hatsumode or Shinto wedding ceremonies.

The performers were Masa-san, Ren, and Masa-san’s mother. Masa-san’s mother was in charge of the main melody and played the hichiriki, Masa-san played the shou, and Ren played the ryuuteki. (2) They were all made from bamboo. The hichiriki, shou, and ryuuteki were called the “three pipes,” and the taiko, kakko, and shouko were called the “three drums.” The wagon and biwa were also included at times.

The shou represented the sound of heaven, the light that shined from heaven. The ryuuteki was the sound of the sky, the cry of a dragon that rushed between heaven and earth freely. The hichiriki was said to express the sounds of the earth and the voices of the people, and it was believed that by playing these instruments together, it was possible to create the universe.

“I’ve heard that Western music adopts the rhythm of the heartbeat, and Japanese classical music adopts the rhythm of breathing,” Keyaki whispered to Kanbayashi.

“It’s truly elegant music. It sounds like the divine voice of heaven, or the voice of the sobbing dead.”

Ryouhei and Nanao also joined the conversation.

“It’s not the dead, it’s a cute dragon. Pyuu, hyororororo.”

“That’s the sound of a water whistle. Isn’t it more like fuaan, kyuu, bobobobobobo?”

A shadow descended over Kaito’s face.

“You guys talk too much. Shut up and listen.”

The three girls decided not to listen to the boys’ innocent conversations.

After the performance was finished, Minato ran to the performers.

“Masa-san, may I ask you a question?”

“Is it about the priesthood stuff from the other day?”

“No, that’s not it. A long time ago, I read an explanation book on the ‘Heart Sutra’ after Saionji-sensei told me that I didn’t study hard enough, but there’s a part that I was confused about.”

In Buddhism, there were the “six sense organs,” the “six objective fields of the senses,” and the “six consciousnesses.” All together, they were called the “eighteen components of perception.”

The “six sense organs” were the sense organs humans were equipped with—the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind.

The “six objective fields of the senses” were the objects of perception—color, sound, scent, taste, touch, and mental presentation.

The “six consciousnesses” were the perception that arose from the six sense organs perceiving the six objective fields of the senses—seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, touching, and reasoning.

“The Buddha gave words to the materials and phenomena of this world, classifying them in detail. He also taught that we should abandon our obsessions. But the Heart Sutra says that the organ called the ‘eye’ perceived ‘color’ and perceived it as ‘beautiful.’ So, it’s saying that all of this is just an illusion, right?”

“Yeah, that’s probably the most common interpretation.”

“I also found it strange that the sixth of the six sense organs was translated as ‘mind.’ The others are names of parts of the body, so why is the sixth one different?”

“I can’t answer that right away due to my lack of study, but I think that what the Heart Sutra was trying to convey wasn’t so much the first half, the empty mind, but the second half. If I were the writer, I would put the important points in the conclusion.”

“The ending is an incantation, right? ‘Let’s all chant it together,’ like that. I thought the theme of the Heart Sutra was to learn the truth and wisdom of the universe, wasn’t it?”

“If you cannot attain enlightenment unless you give up earthly desires, then most people would be unable to reach this state. Because wanting to save people is also greed. Heaven wouldn’t give to man useless things. Kukai taught that the desire for food, sleep, excretion, and sex, are all of the status of a Buddha. If the desire to eat and sleep disappear, the survival of living beings is in danger. The Buddhist teaching to abandon greed means ‘do not covet, do not go too far.’”

Ren, who was listening nearby, laughed lightly.

“Archers have to learn Buddhism too? Sounds busy. Sorry to interrupt, but I think it’s time to call it a night. Masaki, you have another errand to do, don’t you?”

“Yeah, got it. Sorry, Minato, next time.”

Masa-san hurriedly left the scene. The other members were also preparing to go home. Minato realized that he was the only one left behind and was about to follow everyone else.

Suddenly, he felt something like an electric current near his shoulder blade. He turned around and saw Ren with one finger outstretched.

“You’re a sensitive person, aren’t you?”

“Huh?”

“I just put my fingers on your back and sent some qi. Is your sensitivity hereditary? Does it run in your family? Actually, Masaki is also sensitive, even more so than me. He can see and hear all sorts of things. Minato-kun, what is the color of the outside lights of Yata Shrine to you?”

“It’s usually rainbow-colored. I’d say the purple is deeper.”

“To most people, myself included, it only looks white or yellowish. You may be one of those people who don’t realize they have a strong connection to the gods, or in other words, nature. Since both of you are spiritually inclined, you should ask a lot of questions now. That guy may not be back for a while. And I don’t know if he’ll continue coaching at Kazemai.”

“…What?”

“It seems that he found something he couldn’t catch if he didn’t chase it now. I don’t think I’ll be able to hold him back.”

“What do you mean, you can’t hold him back?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Ren took off his eboshi hat and put it on Minato’s head, then turned on his heel.

As always, Ren did nothing but tease and didn’t talk about the important parts. To only drop hints and not inform him of anything was too malicious if he was doing this while knowing that it would cause him a lot of stress. It would be fine if it was good news, but that would transform into anger if it was a rejection email.

The sound of the gagaku music lingered in his ears, and the scar on his left side started to itch.

Minato stood there, holding the hat.

One Sunday, Minato was riding his bike.

He was taking a short trip to town to go shopping. He was buying daily necessities for the summer.

The wind caressing his neck felt comfortable. The sky was blue with rising clouds. Flowers were in full bloom in the gardens of the houses he passed, and he saw two cats sleeping snuggled together. A dragonfly was flying parallel to Minato’s speed, but he wondered how far it would follow.

After passing through the crowd, he parked his bike in front of a store. It was a casual clothing store. While looking at the suggestions for coordinated outfits, he proceeded to the department he was here for.

On the way there, someone called out his name.

“Minato?”

“Masa-san.”

“I saw a bike similar to yours in front of the store, but I didn’t think you would really be here. You came all the way here by bike? I thought your house is a long way from here.”

“I also just wanted to ride my bike. There’s a hole in my jeans. Which one do you think is better?”

“Let’s see, you look good in the classic indigo blue, straight-leg style. For the upcoming season, chino shorts would also look good.”

The two looked around the store. They separated for a while and then promised to meet up again at the exit.

Masa-san handed Minato a package.

“If you want, you can take this guy home too. I think it’ll go well with the jeans from earlier.”

“Huh? Oh, t-thanks. Um, actually, I also…”

Minato also held out a gift-wrapped package containing clothes. It was the exact same wrapping, only the color of the ribbon was different. Both people were momentarily speechless.

“We ended up exchanging gifts.”

“Haha, that’s right.”

“Thank you, I’ll try it on as soon as I get home. I’ve also bought some other stuff, so I’ll give them to the other Kazemai members tomorrow. Minato, are you free right now? You can come and pick up the book I was telling you about.”

“Oh, the book that wasn’t for sale.”

Masa-san had come by car, so they loaded Minato’s bike into the car, and Minato sat in the passenger seat. After a while, they arrived at the parking lot of a two-story apartment building. Masa-san’s apartment was a one-bedroom apartment, and it was built not long ago. When Minato first visited, he imagined that Masa-san was living in a four-and-a-half tatami room that was built over thirty years ago. “What kind of image do you have of me?” Masa-san had lamented. There were ornamental plants by the window, Scandinavian-patterned cushions on the couch, and a Shinto altar enshrined on the wall, as expected of a priest. Everything was neat and tidy, but Minato noticed a prescription bag in the corner of the kitchen. What was more, there was something sitting there that didn’t fit the season at all.

“Masa-san, the kotatsu…shouldn’t you be putting that away soon?”

“I was too lazy to clean the kotatsu futon, so I just left it there.”

Masa-san opened the closet and took out three cardboard boxes. He spread his arms out towards them, which looked heavy.

“Search to your heart’s content.”

“Were you tired of searching? Is that why you called me here? That’s what I thought. You’re so lazy.”

He found the book he was looking for when the box was almost empty. After putting it on the table, Minato and Masa-san sat down at the kotatsu facing each other. Their feet were touching, and they both laughed.

Minato was searching for a book titled The Archery Saint Awa Kenzou—The Representative of Heaven, Earth, and Nature by Sakurai Yasunosuke. It was published to commemorate the 120th anniversary of Awa Kenzou’s birth, so it was thick and heavy.

Masa-san slid his long fingertips over the cover, as though caressing something dear.

“Awa-hanshi’s words are difficult to understand unless you have a background in Buddhism, Shinto, or Confucianism, but this book explains the ‘path of shooting’ in detail. Beyond a hundred shots and hundred hits, there are the ‘one shot and expire’ and ‘shari misei.’ Shari misei refers to the inherent manifestation of someone’s inherent Buddha nature or divinity through archery. It involves letting go of negative emotions such as worry and anger, and it emphasizes dantian breathing. He even said that ‘Takamagahara is inside people’s stomachs.’” (3)

“Saionji-sensei told me once to listen to the voice in my stomach, not head. ‘One shot and expire’ is the teaching of ‘you died with a single shot. Now, become a newborn baby.’ So, I wonder if shari misei is growing even further from a baby.”

“In fact, the hundred shot-hundred hit level is the lowest of the five stages called ‘shakai,’ and it’s still at the entry level of ‘learning shooting.’ However, Awa-hanshi says that even if you don’t hit a hundred shots, you can still reach the realm of one shot and expire and shari misei. He also taught kyudo at high schools, and it’s said that he loved young people very much. When his disciples shoot with all their might, he would embrace them and cry with joy.”

“I’ll take my time to read it. …Um, Masa-san, Ren-san said something recently…”

“Did he say something again?”

“Um, something about your eyes.”

“Oh, my eyes are fine. Because I’m living in a place surrounded by so much greenery.”

“That’s right. I also grew up in the mountains.”

It was weird to forcefully ask someone about something they were keeping secret. Nothing was clear yet, so he was sure Masa-san would tell him if it was true.

Minato was about to return the book to where it was before and found another book at the bottom of the box. It was as though it was hidden away. He picked it up.

“There’s a name on this picture book. Maybe it got mixed up with someone else’s book? How do you read this?”

Minato was pointing at a name written in oil-based marker.

It read 玉守正樹.

“It’s ‘Tamamori Masaki.’ My old name.”

“Is it your old last name?”

“I changed it along with my first name. For me, my old name is a cursed name. I don’t really want to remember it.”

Masa-san had a bitter look on his face, which was unlike him.

Just like Ren the other day, these brothers had too many secrets. Minato didn’t care if he didn’t tell him the reason. But, it was too sad that he hated his own name.

“No, it isn’t, right? Iminas were used until the Meiji era, and they were important things that only the lord and his family knew about. The only time someone would tell it to another person is when they are proposing marriage.”*

“…Huh, that’s bad. Seiya would beat me up if he finds out about this. So, can I hear your answer?”

“Answer?”

“Your answer to my proposal.”

“Huh? I-I don’t get that kind of thing.”

“That kind of thing, huh…”

“I’ve never thought about that kind of thing.”

“You’re calling it ‘that kind of thing’ again.”

“You’re a terrible master.”

“Minato, you’re a surprising Urashima’s casket. I can’t even imagine what’s inside you.”

Masa-san chuckled. Apparently, Minato was being made fun of. Ugh, I seriously can’t win against this guy.

Minato stood up.

“I have to go home soon.”

“Shall I give you a ride?”

“It’s okay.”

When he pushed the doorknob, a gray sky spread out before him.

“Oh, it’s raining. I didn’t bring my raincoat today.”

“A rain that’s trying to prevent you from leaving, huh? Do you want some coffee?”

“Sure.”

Minato closed the door.

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#tsurune #tsurune translation

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cerosin-bis · 1 year ago

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God. Your Hans/Krueger stuff is just…. So delicious. I can taste the bitterness and lust from my phone screen. I do have a couple of questions for your visions of the characters that I don’t recall if you’ve answered from your head canons page if you don’t mind!

I know you’ve said that Hans/Krueger mostly fuck around because they can and they have history. Was it ever romantic? It seems like from Hans perspective he truly is sick with how much he cares for Krueger (or more likely, the past he has with him that he idealizes in a poor attempt at metaphorical ownership of the man,) and Krueger seems more or less nonchalant with the whole emotional situation (like playing into Hans fantasy of him gets him what he wants so he does it with reckless abandon.) Are they bitter exes? Is the love still there? Do either of them want or would ever go for reconciliation?

I also have to ask where Nikto fits into their dynamic, if at all. Your nikto fics, at least by virtue of being Krueger’s perspective for the one about the tattoo, seem to have a lot more emotional weight between the two. Is Hans bitter over this? Does Krueger prefer Nikto? Or is it more like he gets different kicks from them? Does Hans even know about Krueger and Nikto? Would he ever want to?

Sorry for all the questions but your writing is soooo good it’s inspired all sorts of follow ups in my brain. Please feel free to share any other tangential thoughts!!! I love the way you think. I want more of it :)

THIS IS SUCH A GOOD ASK oh my god. You worded things so damn well. It'll be a pleasure to reply 🫡 Thank you so, so much about your kind words about my work. means a whole lot. ♥

The "short answer" is that in both those pairings, love exists, but as different words and concepts as a whole. In a "do not do this at home" way, Krueger/Golem is (post-reunion) love as temperance (moderation/restraint) and familiarity. Krueger/Nikto is love as violent devotion and codependency.

In both cases there's very reciprocal, genuine fondness, but it's under a lot of layers.

Long (very long. sorry. I am passionate about this.) answer under the cut. ⤵

I went over my vision of Krueger/Golem quite a bit in this post. To answer your question, yes, Hans is definitely bitter about caving in so easily for anything Krueger. Golem's tragedy is that he's very aware of it but he can't fight it, because two factors are at hand: his self-indulgence problem, and Krueger's natural tendency to get people in his grip (unstoppable force teaming up with the immovable object against Hans, if you will). But like I said in the post I linked, Krueger is attached. In his own Krueger way, but the familiarity between them is comfortable to him in a way he knows he can't find anywhere else.

Hans gets a very special treatment: Krueger does not push his boundaries. Anything Hans does regarding the Sebastian subject is ultimately motivated by his own will. He knows he can, so he takes and he'll tell you that's his problem only. Truth is, it plays a big part, but Krueger still wants him → which is why he doesn't let go either, and which leads to him constantly worming his way into Hans' life, for said man's greatest dismay... and pleasure.

You worded it really REALLY well: Krueger does play into Hans' fantasies because it's fun and it gets them what they both want, and that includes giving Hans this superficial "control" over his own actions by leading the way to things (as opposed to directly provoking them). Ultimately, both get the best of both worlds: Golem has sobered off from their initial "breakup" so this suits him - he does not want it to be an actual relationship. It's a loose friends with benefits thing, he's work-focused, and knows how Krueger works now: there's no unsaid things, no actual bounds: he's at peace.

As a comparison, Krueger will push Nikto's boundaries to feed more and more into their violent codependency, and because this is also what Nikto himself seeks from what they have.

So yes, Sebastian does get different kicks from Golem and Nikto. Which is exactly why he doesn't have an actual favourite. He needs both for his enrichment (physically and mentally, I can't say emotionally because I headcanon that Krueger has psychopathic traits and does not get attached (or bothered) like a normal human being would. but these two are the highest on the list of people sebastian krueger Likes).

Nikto is like. There's no one (ha) like him in the world. In a sick way, Krueger enjoys seeing him at his best, at his worst, being able to - perhaps being the only one able to read and handle him so well; while Nikto finds in this both an anchor and an outlet. Krueger and Nikto become insanely fusional because they're both obsessed with the other due to their sick traits and know they won't find it anywhere else. They're two dogs that will attempt to maul each other to death and then sleep peacefully on each other with their muzzles still bloody, because they are fond of each other. rinse and repeat.

Golem loosely knows about Krueger and Nikto, but he isn't really bothered or jealous. If anything, he gets an ego boost from it: Krueger messes around with Nikto on the regular, they both practically live in each other's skin, yet Sebastian still semi-regularly comes back to him? Yeah, he's got a special treatment. And he loves it.

#I have no clue if I properly answered your ask but this was my favourite ask ever.#kruegergolem #kruegernikto #ask #krueger #nikto #golem #headcanons

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rememberwren · 5 months ago

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okay hi! i simply needed to swing by and tell you that skin deep has seriously not left my brain since i read it yesterday. it is genuinely one of the most well written fics (in general & call of duty specific) that i think i've ever read, as well as, i have now decided, my favorite ghost fic i have ever laid my eyes upon.

your characterization of him was just OH MY GOD it was perfect. i feel like you managed to preserve his cold, stoic exterior while also making him a genuine person that someone so nervous would still be comfortable with. but he is the perfect balance of intimidating yet also incredibly thoughtful. the switch from "you can cancel, i'll refund your money" to "how can i help?" had me SWOONING!!!!! (and i know it's like. basic general stuff but something about how careful and through he was with washing his hands and sanitation and everything ALSO had be swooning idk) sometimes i feel like his gruff dialogue can read a little stiff, but yours was SO NATURAL and i am just. incredibly floored by everything about the way that you wrote him in that fic. he was MWAH perfect.

also when he was late coming back from his break i was really sitting there going "😏🧐 i wonder why" (and i love when i'm right) and once again. insane. perfect. especially contrasting with how incredibly considerate and respectful he's being during the session. like he's taking such care to keep everything covered unless it doesn't need to be, he's so mindful of his hand placement, he's watching her reactions (not just to the pain but also to him. when she gasps he's SNATCHING that hand away. he'll be damned if he makes her uncomfortable and that is simply 😭) but he's like "🙂 be right back" because he can't handle it. that's INSANE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and. don't even get me started on “If you can’t, then don’t,” that line. i had to close the computer for a moment. genuinely. that is the hottest thing i have ever read because i feel like so much smut is like goal-oriented and while there's nothing wrong with a man going "no you're going to give me another" there is something so. incredibly. intimate. about the simple desire to offer the other pleasure with no end goal.

then him asking her out immediately afterwards (but making a point to be like 'i don't regret doing that. just wish i'd done this properly' which gets me every time aksjfalkjhfsd) was so sweet and their dynamic was positively precious and wonderful and i ADORE them.

anyways!! this was incredibly rambly and for that i apologize but you are such an incredibly gifted writer and i'm so happy that i managed to stumble upon a rb of it on my dash because i've been thinking about tattoo artist ghost for WEEKS and this is the exact content i've been looking for. sorry i just hope this wasn't just a pile of affectionate word vomit 🫶🏼

(also re-reading it again when he says “Fuck me. Alright. Meet me at the shop in…twenty?” hehehehehehehehehehe i sure will!)

This was the *greatest* pile of affectionate word vomit ever, please do not ever apologize for it, I’ve been a grinning mess all morning because of this. I’m so very pleased and honored. I love seeing all the little details that stuck out to you. Thank you for taking the time to write this, it made my day 🩶

#politemagic #wren answers #so sweet

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ltwharfy · 9 months ago

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"Bob's Burgers" Season 4 Episode Ranking Rewatch (Long Post)

So, I've been rewatching "Bob's Burgers" from the beginning and ranking the episodes using the spreadsheet that @babsvibes created! If you want to know why I'm doing this or how I view the 1-5 rating scale, you can check out my Season 1 post! If you want to check out any of the other seasons, I've been using the "bob's burgers episode ranking rewatch" tag for all of them.

Now, on to Season 4:

Average (Mean) Score: 4.59

Mode (Most Common) Ranking: 5

Ranking Breakdown: 13 5s; 9 4s

Season as a whole thoughts:

I'm genuinely wondering if Season 4 might end up being the highest rated season when this project is all said and done. And that's interesting because it is not a season I immediately think of when I think of a season with a lot of my favorite episodes- I think of 3 and 7 first. But Season 4 is just so consistently entertaining! As I got towards the end of it, I noticed that I had not given any of the episodes a 3 yet- but looking it over again, that checks out. I'd really be happy to watch any of these episodes any time I am in the mood for "Bob's Burgers"- there isn't a "meh" or a mixed review in the bunch. And since I have already rated episodes from later seasons when I've caught them on cable, am pretty certain that this might be the only season with no 3s or lower in it.

But honestly, one of the things that really makes "Bob's Burgers" standout among TV comedies for me- and one of the things that motivated me to do this rewatch- is that I think it has been really consistently good for a really long period of time. And if Season 4 was the most really consistently good season- well, then, maybe it makes sense for it to be my (mathematically calculated) favorite! (But we've still got a lot of seasons to go...)

Some thoughts on specific episodes (and feel free to ask if you want my thoughts on an episode I didn't comment on):

"My Big Fat Greek Bob": One of the "sleeper hits" of the season- I had forgotten how much fun it was! Bob's bond with the frat guys, the kids exploring the frat house, Linda and Gretchen's "lady goods" parties- it's all a hoot! And one of the pleasures of doing this rewatch has been realizing how much I enjoy many recurring BB characters- not in a "they are my new Blorbo I must create a billion head canons about them!" way but just in a "hey, it's nice to see you in this episode!" way. So, hey, Dr. Yap, it was nice to see you in this episode!

"Turkey in a Can": One of the hardest "Bob's Burgers" questions you could ask me is to name my favorite Thanksgiving episode- making me choose between this one and "Dawn of the Peck"?! Please no! The scene in the bathroom on Thanksgiving is one of the funniest bits of chaotic humor on the show ever. If I'm not cracking up when Gayle declares "It's the end of the world!" and kisses Mort, you should check my pulse because I'm probably dead.

"Purple Rain-Union": "Won't you enter my Acropolis and make my yogurt Greek?"- how come Aunt Gayle's name never comes up when people are discussing the greatest songwriters of all time?! Also, I love the scenes with Jen (one of my all-time favorite recurring characters) in this one- especially her hilarious "pep talk" to Linda. I also love the way Louise's nonsensical "everybody gets a black eye" plan somehow works!

"Slumber Party": Yes, the slumber party plot itself is great! Yes, Jessica and all the other recurring characters who debut in this episode are great! But what I really love about this episode is the amount of screentime and dialogue devoted to Little King Trashmouth!! "It's a rac-coup d'etat!" and "Aw, babies getting rabies" are two of my favorite ever Linda quotes! Let's just say that if I lived in Seymour's Bay I would be a crazy raccoon person alongside Linda and Teddy. I love those alley rascals!

"Easy Com-mercial, Easy Go-mercial": Hey, Randy, it was nice to see you in this episode! After "Fraud of the Dead", I was thinking about Louise directing that film and also directing the Meatman film in "Ain't Miss Debtatin'" and wondering if there were any other indications in the show that she had this interest in directing. So, it was interesting to rewatch this and note that Louise not only insists that she should direct instead of Randy because she came up with the script idea, but even when Randy is directing scenes of the commercial that she is not in, you can see Louise standing next to him mimicking his actions- like, it's not just about her wanting power or not respecting Randy (although both things are true) she's genuinely interested in directing!

"The Frond Files": Our first three stories anthology! Two things I really love in this one: the way Louise writes that ridiculous argument between her and Gene at the end of her story-it's the most sibling thing ever! Also, I LOVE the coloring and designs of the "Fart School for the Gifted" segment- it's just really beautiful art to accompany a really silly story! (I also love Linda's tearful reaction to that story and Bob insisting to Frond that he ending is ambiguous). I also loved the use of black and white for (most) of Tina's zombie story.

"Mazel Tina": Another fun thing of the rewatch has been noticing story types/structures that the show reuses that I enjoy- and this is one of them, where the Belchers are go to a place together (Tammy's bat mitzvah) and then all have separate little adventures there ("Mutiny on the Windbreaker" and "Legends of the Mall", are among other stories of that type). I particularly enjoy Louise in this one- Louise talking Janet into quitting her job and following her dreams is hilarious, as is all the Tammy-Louise interaction. One of the things that makes Tammy a great recurring character is that she has her own different dynamics with each of the Belcher siblings- they all mess with her, but in completely different ways.

"The Kids Rob A Train": So, as I have written in other long posts and in fics, one of the reasons I enjoy Louise and Rudy's friendship is that we can see it evolve over time. They don't automatically become besties after "Carpe Museum"- in this one Rudy tells Beanbag that he knows the Belchers from school, not that they are his friends. And I think we see some key moments in the development of their friendship in this one- Rudy's patience with Louise's siblings during his presentation about the train, Rudy and Louise's back-and-forth as he tries to get her to hand him the chocolate through the window, and his fake allergic severe reaction and her panicked response. But even if you aren't as obsessed with that relationship as I am, this episode has tons of great things- Bob's "friendship" with "Ramon" the boy riding the bike next to the train, Gene's outfit, the thrilling musical score!

"The Kids Run Away": Another sleeper hit that I never really appreciated until this rewatch. I particularly love that Gayle is actually helpful in resolving the Louise cavity crisis in this episode. Yes, Gayle has a LOT of issues, but I think she does try to be a good aunt and a good sister.

The "How Bob Saves/Destroys the Town" two-parter: Most of the time, my ratings are mainly based on how much I enjoy the comedy, story, and character beats of the episode- I haven't really rated any episodes up or down based on how they look visually- and I readily concede that is not really my wheelhouse, I don't really know much about evaluating animation or direction in animation from a technical perspective. That being said, both parts of this two parter were probably the first episodes of the show where I repeatedly thought about how beautiful it was! There are many great shots that make the episodes seem more cinematic or theatrical (the spotlights on the singers during the musical numbers) rather than "just" an episode of television. The view of the town when Bob and Calvin are on top of the rollercoaster is particularly great. And I love how they brought back so many recurring characters, even if it was just for silent cameos (like Darryl and Logan being in the background for part of "Bad Things Are Bad")! This episode really shows how much the show had grown over four seasons- how it had developed a setting and a ton of characters, both supporting and main, so that you really cared about them. A fantastic ending for a fantastic season!

Random thoughts (stuff that doesn't affect the ratings):

-This season seems to have more plots involving Bob working somewhere other than the restaurant ("My Big Fat Greek Bob", "Bob and Deliver") and more plots about the family or members of it being in physical jeopardy (the first three episodes, "Christmas in the Car", the two-part season finale) than most seasons. I remember noticing that when it was first airing and worrying that it was a trend that might lead to the show becoming less grounded (like "The Simpsons") and that if we got to 10+ seasons we'd be seeing stories about Bob becoming a temporary chef for NASA and the family being stranded on the International Space Station or nonsense like that. Obviously, this concern was misplaced. if anything, the show has become more grounded as it's gone on, making episodes about things my retired aunt and uncle do as hobbies (birdwatching, hunting for mushrooms).

-I try not to nitpick jokes, but it bugs me in "Mazel Tina" when Gene yells "One Luftballoon!" after seeing Tina's blood red face. Yes, the English version of Nena's "99 Luftballoons" was "99 Red Balloons"- but "luft" doesn't mean "red" in German, it means "air" and "luftballoon" just means "balloon"-it has nothing to do with it being red! So, he's just saying Tina's red face looks like a balloon, which is an odd joke. Sorry, this is incredibly dumb, but y'know I took German for two years in high school and I need to use it occasionally so I don't feel like I wasted that time...

Thanks for reading! See you in Season 5!

#bob's burgers #bob's burgers season 4 #bob's burgers episode ranking rewatch #long post

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mcufan72 · 1 year ago

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Cold winter days, a lonely woman on a bench, a stranger in the park...

An Encounter in Winter ❄️

Loki and female reader

Chapter 14

Chapter 13

18+/adult themes/talking/flirting/slow burn/fluff/angst/smut

Warnings: fluff and smut, unprotected sex, soft!dom/sub vibes, mentions of slight breeding kink, insecurities, unexpected reactions and incidents

"I'm so happy we saw The Northern Lights, I didn't expect that anymore, honestly. And I wanted so much for you to see them… mmmhhhmm oh yes, Lo…don't stop doing that", you moaned with pleasure and Loki chuckled lightly.

"Me neither, but it was beautiful and absolutely magical…like you, Snowflake."

Loki massaged your shoulders and your nape with a firm but sensitive touch, his thumbs digging deep into the tensed parts of your muscles.

"Nooo, I'm not magical… but your hands are…a bit harder, baby…please…"

"Uhhh… be careful what you're begging for, my Lady, there's still so much tension inside of you", he groaned seductively and pecked a soft kiss to your nape.

You sat between his spread thighs, your body caged by his forbidden long and muscular legs. You two enjoyed the warm bubble bath Loki had prepared for you and the bathroom was filled with the calming aroma of the lavender bath foam.

After Loki's enjoyable massage, you leaned back against his firm wet chest, curled your hand around his neck and pulled his head down to you to kiss him gently, your fingers caressing his nape. He put his arms around your middle and hugged you tightly. You two enjoyed this proximity and the skin-to-skin feeling to its fullest. Nothing felt better. This wasn't sexual, it was about closeness and trust, tenderness and genuine feelings.

"Isn't the water too warm for you?" you asked him concerned while you were building a foam mountain in front of you.

"For your Blueberry definitely yes, for your Lo not", he said relaxed.

He loved to sit in the tub with you like this. He always needed you close to him and the feeling of your body leaning against his was what he craved. You were his greatest bliss.

Your head rested comfortably in the crook of his neck and his wet skin against yours felt so calming and soft. Your fingers were poking into the foam mountain in front of you while Loki's nose traced over your temple and his lips pressed soft kisses to your cheekbone, cheek, and jaw. You tilted your head a bit to give him further access to your neck and closed your eyes, soaking up this moment of special intimacy.

"I have a little surprise for you, Lo", you said, opening your eyes again.

"A surprise?" He murmured between soft kisses against your dampened skin.

What could it be? Had you already made the life-changing decision? It would definitely surprise him. Until now you haven't said yes or no. But he definitely wanted you to take your time and not make a rash decision.

"Mmh mmh", you loosened yourself from his embrace and slid to the other side of the bathtub, turning around and facing him now. You let yourself slide down a bit deeper into the water and rested your head on the rim of the bathtub, smiling at him.

"We will fly to London!", and you let your foot slowly slide up his stomach up to his chest, your toes playing with his wet chest hair.

With your big toe you traced over his chest and caressed his nipples. You could do this for hours. This god was your drug.

"London? I thought we had to return directly to New York."

"Nope, I got two days more approved by Tony and Bruce so I thought we could visit London before our day-to-day life has us back. I hope you like my surprise and look forward to it as much as I do."

"There's no place in this world or another where I wouldn't like to be with you, my love…and you should stop doing thissss…", and he grabbed your ankle and kissed and licked the sole of your foot and sucked your toes.

"No no no no, Looo…it's tickling…stop, please stop", you giggled.

In a swift move, he pulled you by your ankle towards him between his widening legs, your thighs over his, your calves wrapping around his waist. He captured your lips and gave you a passionate kiss, his tongue playing with yours. He never failed to make you shiver.

"Did I already tell you how much I enjoyed the time with you here, at this wonderful, peaceful place and how much I love you?"

"Nooo, you didn't, my pretty god… but tell me, are you looking forward to our prolonged vacay? Or do you already have enough of me and… want to go back on missions soon?" You asked him, insecurity consuming you.

You never failed to make him feel warm and tingly whenever you told him he was pretty. How could you doubt his deep affection for you? He would follow you anywhere. You were his and you were perfect.

"Are you serious? As if I could ever have enough of you. Of course, I look forward to visiting London with you, my love. It's another homecoming for you, hm?"

"Yeah, but please, Lo don't think my reasons are selfish. I just want to show you all the places of Midgard I love the most and I want to make good memories together with you there …before you take me to the stars one day and show me your favorite places."

"You're not selfish, Snowflake. I want to see everything you like and love, I want to know everything about you, London will be a perfect addition to our book of new stories", he murmured and kissed your lips softly. You held him by his broad shoulders and rested your forehead against his. This man, your man, was just perfect.

"Fine, that makes me truly happy, Lo… thank you", you answered quietly and pecked a small kiss on the tip of his nose.

"We should leave the bath now, the water is getting cold and the skin on my fingers is already quite shrivelled", you laughed and Loki agreed.

"Yesss, I should get my Queen out of the water quickly before she dissolves completely", he joked and you hit his shoulder playfully.

"You're outrageous, baby, but I love you, I love you so much", you chuckled and loosened yourself from him after kissing him one more time.

You two left the tub, dried each other with big fluffy towels and laid down in bed, cuddling naked under the blanket. It didn't take long until you both fell asleep in each other's arms.

It was on your last afternoon in Norway when Mrs Andersson came to visit you. You stood on the terrace in front of the winter garden and you were watching Loki on the jetty, trying to catch a fish. Again and again, he renewed the bait on his rod and cast it out in a high bow. On Asgard he never had to do this, fish was always served to him prepared and ready-cooked. But he had fun fishing here and of course, he wanted to impress you as well. He wanted to show you that he was able to take care of you and feed you.

You knew he wasn't an overly spoiled prince and neither an expert in fishing but you were definitely impressed. His ambition to take care of the dinner was truly cute. You knew he would do everything for you and he was so sweet in his desperate attempts to catch a fish for you. But the fishes weren't in the mood to do him the favour of getting caught by him so you were laughing when you called over to your lover.

"Blueberry, shouldn't we go out tonight for dinner? I know a nice fish restaurant here", you mocked him playfully.

"If you keep shouting that loud, we might have to do this! You're expelling the fishes, Snowflake. I'll catch one, just wait and be patient … and don't you dare mock me, darling, otherwise…"

"You'll punish me, my Blueberry-god?" A smirk curved your lips.

Loki turned around to look at you and pushed the sunglasses up into his hair, his red eyes sparkling in the sunlight.

"It seems…you're just waiting for it. Am I right, Snowflake? But you have to beg your god harder!" You could clearly see the seductive smile on his face.

"You just have to try harder, Blueberry… to catch a fish… but of course, I'll take your punishment too, Sir."

"Be careful what you wish for, pet", and he turned towards the water again.

You grinned smugly and bit your lower lip lightly at the imagination of how Loki would punish you, grabbing you firmly by your waist and fucking you roughly against the wall until you would cry his name and beg him for mercy and salvation…

At just this moment Mrs Andersson walked around the corner of the house and entered the terrace. You saw her in the corner of your eyes and turned towards her.

"Oh, hello Mrs Andersson, what a lovely surprise. Nice to see you. Please take a seat", and you offered her one of the chairs standing on the terrace.

"How are you doing?"

"Hello Mrs. Laufeyson, I'm doing good, min jente (my girl). I'm so sorry for being intrusive. I knocked at the front door but you didn't hear me. Thank you for your offer but I just wanted to bring you this cake, and she passed you a self-made apple pie.

"It's your last day here and I thought it would be a nice farewell gift. I hope you like apple pie?" She asked kindly.

"This is so nice of you, thanks Mrs Andersson… and yesss we love apple pie", you answered her thankfully.

Inwardly you laughed lightly because she addressed you again as Mrs Laufeyson… and you loved being addressed as Loki's wife.

"Did you enjoy your holiday here? I hope you two felt comfortable in my house and you had a nice time here."

"We had a wonderful, relaxing time here, indeed. It's such a calming and peaceful place. We felt so comfortable and carefree here."

"Oh, yes I know exactly what you mean, min jente. It was the same here for my husband and me when we were young", she said knowingly and winked at you.

"My husband bought this house and the beach for us and it had always been our piece of paradise and an oasis of silence and togetherness. Since my husband passed away it's too big for me alone and we don't have children. That's why I modernized it and it's rented now as a vacation home. I'm glad that you liked it here and had a happy time here."

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs Andersson." You felt sad for her. She must feel so alone. You thought about Loki…you didn't want Loki to be alone and live without you …and you put the pie down on one of the chairs.

"Don't be, he's just gone ahead over the rainbow bridge and is waiting for me in Valhalla and one day we'll be together again." She smiled brightly at you, totally convinced that it must be exactly like this.

"Valhalla…", you whispered thoughtfully.

"Don't mind me, min jente, it's just an old Norse myth and I love this imagination. I see your husband is trying to catch a fish… there are not many fish in the bay here", she smiled.

"Yes, he tries but with limited success but he has fun doing it, that's what counts", you said smilingly.

"Ahhm…Mrs Andersson…", you addressed her hastily when you got aware that she wanted to greet Loki and had already turned towards the jetty.

"Yes, dear?" She turned her head to gaze at you.

"Could you please wait here for a moment?"

"Of course!", she smiled at you with friendly eyes.

You looked thankfully at her and you went over to Loki. Has she already seen your lover's natural form? Today he was fully dressed in a tight-fitting long-sleeved t-shirt and sweatpants so maybe she hadn't seen his natural state and he had the chance to transform into the appearance he felt more comfortable in among strangers. You wanted to warn him. You two weren't prepared to see anyone here and you didn't want him to be seen in his natural form without knowing it and without being aware that you had a guest. As his girlfriend, it was your duty to protect him as much as he always protected you. You wanted him to always feel safe with you.

Loki felt you walking towards him and he also felt your little nervousness. But why were you nervous? Before you could even say a word he turned around to show you the fish he had just caught right before you had reached him.

"Look Snowflake, I was—", and he turned around to you.

"Blueberry, we—"

Loki saw Mrs Andersson standing right at the end of the jetty on the terrace, looking in his direction and waving at him. He felt how anxiety choked his throat. Forgotten was the fish, which slipped out of his hands and back into the water.

Because of his reaction and the way he stood stiff as a poker in front of you, you knew that he had already seen Mrs Andersson. Time stood still for a moment and you needed to react because Loki couldn't.

"Lo, please…don't panic now, okay? Come, come with me, trust me everything is fine, okay? I'm here. I won't leave you alone. Come, darling", you said quietly and smiled reassuringly at him.

You took his hand into yours and walked together with him to Mrs Andersson.

When you both stood finally in front of her, Loki wasn't able to look at her, not even with his sunglasses on. He just waited for the scream of the old lady. He just hoped she wouldn't faint because of his blue skin, the marks and his red eyes, he would keep hidden behind the sunglasses. He held his head down and you felt how his grip on your hand tightened painfully. You nearly teared up because he stood there like a scalded little boy who had stolen the freshly baked cake. Mrs Andersson was speechless but fascinated and she felt the tension in the air and the insecurity of the handsome man in front of her.

"Hello Mr.Laufeyson, I just brought you some apple pie to sweeten up your last day here. May I say that I've never seen such a good-looking man like you? Please forgive an old woman saying this to you but you're truly beautiful."

You smiled brightly. You knew it, Mrs Andersson liked you two right from the beginning and her reaction was pure gold. She had no idea how meaningful her reaction towards Loki's appearance was for him.

"You…are not afraid of me? I mean… I look different, and frightening", Loki whispered meekly.

"Oh Mr. Laufeyson, you're not frightening me. I'm living in a country full of myths and legends and it's not that I had never heard about the Norse gods and frost giants before…but I've never seen one until now…so a childhood dream comes true. I wish my husband could see us standing here together on the terrace he had built himself." She giggled like a happy little girl.

"So I'm not the monster your parents told you about at night?"

"No, Mr Laufeyson, my mother told me quite a different story where Jotuns and Asgardians weren't enemies. And don't worry, I won't tell anyone about our secret. You two are safe with me and this here…", she made a wide gesture with her arm towards the house and the bay, "...will always be a safe place for you."

Your eyes teared up and you hugged her spontaneously.

"Thank you, thank you so much, Mrs Andersson. You've no idea what this means to us."

"It's alright, min jente, it's alright. That's the least I can do for you and I hope you're going to come back here one day", she said softly and patted your back gently.

"We'll definitely come back. Thank you, Mrs Andersson. You truly have a heart and you are one of the nicest and most undaunted persons I've ever met." Loki said.

He tried to hold back a tear from falling. He never expected this reaction towards his natural appearance from someone who wasn't you or his brother. Now he knew you were right, not everyone was afraid of him. Maybe he wasn't that disgusting and frightening to others.

You broke the embrace with Mrs Andersson and took the apple pie from the chair, where you had placed it.

"I just take the pie to the kitchen and make some tea. And please stay, Mrs Andersson, be our guest. I'm back in a minute." You smiled at her and Loki and vanished towards the kitchen.

"So you know who and what I am?" Loki asked her, astonished.

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson, now I'm sure to know who you are. There was something special about you two right from the beginning, a special aura. I just couldn't define what it was."

"But how? I mean…"

"Your name gave it away. When I got to know you I thought it was just a coincidence …and now I know it's not. And I feel honoured to have met you," and she bowed her head respectfully.

"Please no, Mrs Andersson, please don't do that… please just treat me as a friend, if you feel comfortable to see a friend in me. But thank you for showing your respect and politeness towards me and my … girlfriend."

"I always forget that you're not married", she laughed. "You and her are a wonderful couple. She's utterly in love with you!"

"I know. And I love her, she's my each and everything. I love her more than my life. I'll never let her go. She's my goddess."

"She will never leave you, believe me, I can feel it."

"Yes, I hope so. By the way, may I ask you something, Mrs Andersson?"...

While you made tea and cut the apple pie into small pieces you saw Loki and Mrs Andersson intensively talking to each other. You were happy for him that Mrs Andersson acted so relaxed around him. This place here was truly magical and you wished that Loki and you could come back here one day and enjoy the peace and calmness of this place again. You put the teapot, cups and cake on a tray and returned to Mrs Andersson and Loki, who had changed in his æsir form again.

"Thank you Mrs Andersson…for everything," Loki said cryptically.

"My pleasure, Mr Laufeyson… oh the tea is coming," she said when she saw you coming out of the house, walking towards them.

You put the tray onto the table and poured the tea into the cups. After you three had drunk the tea and eaten some cake, Mrs Andersson said goodbye.

"I wish you a safe journey home and please, come back whenever you want, I'd like to have you here in my house again. You're always welcome here."

"We'll definitely come back, Mrs Andersson", and you hugged her again.

"Keep him, min jente. He truly loves you!" Mrs Andersson whispered to your ear. You nodded knowingly at her and a bright smile curved your lips.

"Take good care of yourself and thanks again, Mrs. Andersson", Loki said and shook her hand and gave an implied kiss to the back of her hand.

"I'd love to hear from you soon, Mr Laufeyson and the next time you're here you can try again to catch a fish for your girlfriend."

You all laughed heartily and you two waved at Mrs Andersson when she left. Loki wrapped an arm around your middle and pulled you closer to his side.

"What were you two talking about, Lo? You seemed to have an intense conversation."

"Nothing special, Snowflake. We talked about … Norse myths and stuff. She's an adorable old lady. I like her."

"Yeah, she's wonderful. She reminds me of my mum. Do you believe me now that my Blueberry isn't frightening for everyone?"

"I do, my love. Thank you for supporting me and…mpffhh... "

You crushed your lips onto his and gave him a devouring kiss. Sometimes you just loved to make him shut up like this. Norns, how much you loved this man.

He didn't know why but your kiss made his cock twitch with desire. He would never be able to resist you and your wonderful touches and kisses. You've already started teasing him when he tried fishing. He knew you did it on purpose, he felt your urgent desire for him since you've woken up this morning.

"Sleep with me, Lo baby. I need you buried in me", you murmured against his lips. Loki pressed his bulge against your crotch, slowly grinding into your clothed heat.

"As my Queen wishes!", and he lifted you up.

Norns, how much he loved you, his beautiful woman. You wrapped your legs around his waist, curled your arms around his neck and he carried you to the bedroom. You two got hurriedly rid of your clothes and you kissed him impatiently, forcing your tongue into his mouth. Adoring your impatience and rankness, he laid you down on the mattress, never breaking the kiss and towering above you. He cupped your breasts, tenderly squeezing them and rubbing his thumbs over your sensitive nipples.

"No foreplay, Sir… just fuck me, please."

"So desperate for me, aren't you?"

"Shut up, Lo, and fuck me!"

You didn't know why you were so desperate for him today. Maybe you were ovulating or developing a breeding fetish… anyway you needed him desperately.

"You little whore, want to get fucked like a slut, don't you?" he murmured darkly into your ear.

His hard length was throbbing with excitement. You rocked yourself against his heated cock, inviting him to slide finally inside you. You both gasped audibly when he did. Loki started to slam into you. He latched his mouth to your neck and licked and sucked your soft, hot skin harshly. Your whimpers turned to a yelp and you felt the first waves of an orgasm rising. The sweet pain of his assault on your neck and the slamming sounds of his flesh onto yours were your undoing.

You opened your legs wider for him so he could bury himself inside you to the root. Your hands roamed and scratched over his back, his hard muscles tensing and bulging with every deep thrust of his hips. Your hands grabbed his buttocks and you pressed him relentlessly against you. You needed him closer and thrusting you harder and your fingers dug deeper into his ass cheeks.

"Lokiiii…I'm close, please, cum inside of me…please…fill me, my God …fill meee", you whimpered, writhing and groaning underneath him.

"Norns, Snowflake don't squeeze me that much…I can't…hold back…dammit I won't last any longer…if you keep doing this…," and a deep growl escaped his throat.

Your scent, your sweat, your velvet skin on his, your erect nipples rubbing over his chest, and your hand cupping his ass made him lose his mind. He loved when you did this. It gave him the feeling of being wanted. He wanted to explode inside of you, he wanted to fill you up with his seed and watch how it drips out of you when he would pull his cock out of your well fucked cunt. He felt how you convulsed around him and he knew you were close.

"Cum for me, now… you're all mine, pet, all mine," he groaned to your ear and he felt your walls clenching. He pulled back his cock until just the tip remained inside of you and stopped for a few seconds.

"You make me feel so good, my love,"

"Sir, I need to cum…"

He slammed into you again, rocking his hips firmly against yours, his pubic hair rubbing over your throbbing clit.

"That's it, cum for me princess…my goddess…cum for me right now…", and Loki exploded deep inside of you, flooding you with all of his hot cum.

You held him so utterly close to you when you gave in to your orgasm and relaxed into the warm waves of satisfaction. You both panted and sighed heavily, never loosening your grip on each other. Since your bonding it always felt so intense, so satisfying. After you both came down from your highs, Loki pulled slowly out of you and rolled to the side. You gazed at him when he left the bed and you felt his seed dripping slowly out of you.

"Where are you and your sexy ass going my King?" you whined. You didn't want to be alone.

"To the bathroom, my Queen. I'm back soon," and he kissed your forehead.

While he was quickly cleaning himself and preparing a warm washcloth for you, you stretched out on the bed, hands above your head and with eyes closed, and savoured the aftermath of your hot lovemaking. You still felt his touches and kisses on your skin. You felt him coming back to you and when he began to gently clean you, you opened your eyes again.

"Can I have some more aftercare, Sir?", you asked him softly.

"Of course, my Lady, I just wanted to clean you up first and I didn't want to use magic tonight. You know I would never deny holding you in my arms after making love to you", he murmured and crawled back into the bed again. He pulled you immediately into his embrace and held you close to him. You curled your arm around his waist and tangled your legs with his. You buried your nose into the crook of his neck and inhaled his scent.

"I don't want to leave this place, Lo. I wish we could stay here." You played with some tendrils of his soft hair and sighed.

"I know, Snowflake. I don't want to go either." His fingers traced up and down your arm and he pressed a soft kiss on the crown of your head.

"And we still have two more days in London and I can't wait to be there with you."

"Yes, you're right, Lo. But this place here was something special."

You kissed his pecs gently and snuggled deeper into his body.

"I'm hungry, baby."

"Then we should eat something, my love. Do you want to go out? To the fish restaurant?"

"Let us stay here, baby. We have some leftovers and we could also eat the rest of the delicious apple pie. What do you think?"

"Sounds like a good plan, my Queen. Come, let's get some food", and you two jumped out of the bed and prepared the kitchen table with all the leftovers, the pie and some wine and water.

You enjoyed one last time sitting naked at the kitchen table and feeding each other. Once back in the compound's kitchen, you wouldn't be able to be that carefree and shameless. Maybe you could be, but you neither wanted to cause a scandal nor be responsible for several heart attacks of your housemates. You two already knew how much you would miss this kind of togetherness and the atmosphere of serenity and lightness.

You had to leave early the next morning. Your packed suitcases were already in the car and you two stood on the jetty for one last time.

"Goodbye Norway, thank you for being so good to me", Loki whispered and tears welled up in your eyes. He looked at you and took your hand in his. "And thank you, my love, for bringing me here. I had the best time of my life here with you, I never felt so free", and he kissed you passionately.

"I feel the same, Lo and you made our vacation here perfect! We come back here, right?"

"We will come back here, I promise, Snowflake!"

He hugged you tightly and then you walked arm in arm with teary eyes to the car, to drive back to Oslo. You had to be right in time at the airport to get your flight to London.

Two days exploring an amazing city like London weren't enough. You two also had some struggles adjusting to the huzzle and buzzle of a big city again after all the time in the silence and loneliness of Norway. But sooner or later you had to because New York was so much bigger and louder and in less than one day you would be on your final way back home.

You had already done some shopping in Oxford Street, visited Covent Garden, had a snack at Borough Market, spent time at the Tower of London, walked over the Tower Bridge across the River Thames and you also looked at the changing of the Guards on Buckingham Palace. Loki commented on the parade and how small this little Palace was in comparison with the Golden Palace of Asgard. He made you laugh with his lengthy explanations but he was so adorable while talking about it.

You two decided to let the day come to a cosy end. To return to your beloved tradition, you wanted to take a stroll in one of London's famous parks and you decided to go to Regent's Park. Instead of sitting in a cafe afterwards, you went to a pastry shop to get some cupcakes. You wanted to make a picnic and eat them later while sitting on a park bench.

You two stood in front of the counter which was full of the nicest, craziest and most mouth-watering waffle sandwiches, churros and milkshakes you had ever seen. You were grateful that there was a line of other customers because you definitely needed some more time to decide on what you wanted to order.

"I really miss our cafe in New York but this here…", you said enthusiastically, "...is beyond belief…I need to go on a diet when we're back home!"

"Don't you dare say this, my love? You're perfect. Say it again and I'll feed you with all the cakes this town is willing to sell me", and he gave you a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Okay, okay I'm already quiet", you laughed. "I can't believe that we'll be on our flight back home to New York tomorrow."

"Me neither, Snowflake but unfortunately we have to."

You giggled and joked and talked until it was your turn to make your order. The person who was standing with his back towards you annoyed you a bit because she or he took a long time to get ready to leave until you could go a step forward to make your order. Loki paid the bill and you two were ready to leave the pastry shop. Suddenly, on your way out, someone bumped sideways into you and hastily left the store, a little child by the hand.

"Heyyy, excuse me? Can't you just look where you're going", you called after the person. "Jerk…some people are incredibly ruthless, aren't they?" you said annoyed and Loki shrugged his shoulders.

"It happens, my love, don't be angry. Are you hurt, darling?" he asked, concerned.

"No, I'm fine, Lo!"

"You should have a look at your handbag. Maybe it was a pickpocket", one of the other customers said.

"Oh no, please not, it happened to me several years ago", and you began to examine your handbag and checked if anything was stolen.

"Did you notice anything?" Loki wondered.

"No, I just had the feeling that this person tried to be close to us, maybe eavesdropping on us while we waited in the line…yes…it was the person who got served before us. And I remember a tattoo on the back of their hand. It covered the hand completely…but I couldn't see the face because of the cap that the jerk was wearing," you were still rummaging in your purse.

"Hmmm are you sure, Snowflake?"

"No, I'm not…it just felt weird…but I'm sure about the tattoo. Hmmm, no, nothing's missing. Wallet, phone, passport… everything is there. Forget it, he or she was just a rude person. Come, Lo, let's go to the park and eat these delicacies."

"What exactly do you mean, Snowflake? Want me to eat these…or you," he murmured seductively to your ear and with your elbow you gave him a hard poke in the ribs and smiled at him.

"Uurrgghh…do want to break my bones, Snowflake?", Loki jokingly questioned.

"As if I could seriously hurt you…You just can't stop it, can you?"

"Stop doing what, my love?" He asked, his signature smirk curving his lips.

"Stopping teasing and seducing me, Lo!" You pouted playfully.

"How am I supposed to stop it, Snowflake? I just can't stop loving you."

You laughed and kissed his lips softly and as the smitten man he was, his hand grabbed yours and with your fingers intertwined, you walked to Regent's Park. After enjoying the tasty treats you sat on the bench, Loki's arm tightly wrapped around your shoulder, your body leaning against him. The bench you were sitting on was surrounded by yellow roses and their scent was delightful.

You were watching the people and the scenery when you saw a little girl, maybe four or five years old, standing on the meadow, looking around as if she was searching for something or someone. She was all alone so you checked the surroundings but you couldn't see anyone to whom the little girl belonged. You stood up from the bench and walked over to her and bowed down to her to meet her eye level.

"Hey little girl. Do you miss your mum or dad? May I help you find them? My name is y/n. Would you like to tell me what your name is?" you addressed her calmly and quietly. You didn't want to scare her. She gave you no answer and stayed quiet.

"Oh, I see…you're not allowed to talk to strangers and you're absolutely right. I wouldn't do it either if I were you. Should we just wait here with you for your mum or your dad? I'm sure they're already looking for you."

The little girl still didn't answer and showed no reaction. She just stared at you and you couldn't say if she was afraid or curious. Loki stood next to you. He knew that his height might be frightening for the little girl so he went into a squat, knelt on one knee and placed his hands on his thighs.

"Hi, you. Nice to meet you. I'm Loki. Don't be afraid, we will find your parents", he said softly and he gave the girl a friendly smile.

The little girl stared intensely at him as if she was waiting for him to do something exciting. And he did. He thought it might be a good thing to distract her a little bit until her parents would hopefully appear. He turned one of his palms upwards and conjured a small firework, a shimmer of green surrounding his hand. A little smile appeared on her face, barely to see. He let the colours of the fireworks change just to entertain her. It made you smile too, he was really sweet with her. You were still concerned that nobody seemed to look for her. But you two wouldn't leave her alone. If nobody would come you had to call the police. After mere minutes the little girl looked over Loki's shoulder. He was still kneeling in front of her and just conjured further fireworks on his palm. All of a sudden she ran away, storming into the arms of a person, who was obviously looking for her. You were glad that she had found her parents again but you furrowed your eyebrows and looked astonished at the person who was awaiting the little girl with open arms.

"What is it, Snowflake?" Loki stood up from the meadow and looked in the same direction as you.

"I'm sure it's the same person who ran into me in the pastry shop."

"Really?"

"Yeah, look at the hand…and the cap."

Loki did and he saw it too. On the hand was a big tattoo.

"Do you know that person? I mean, you lived here", Loki asked you curiously.

"No, not to my knowledge, no…but I don't believe in coincidences and I just wonder why we saw this person twice at two different places here today."

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚🤔💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

Taglist:

@lokisprettygirl @anukulee @stupidthoughtsinwriting @obscureenigmatic @wheredafandomat @fictive-sl0th @lokixryss @smolvenger @lovingchoices14 @huntress-artemiss

#loki #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x reader fluff #loki laufeyson #loki x reader fic #loki x reader angst #loki x reader smut #jotun loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki x female reader angst

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pangolinheart · 1 year ago

Text

FFXIVWrite 2023 DAY 10 - FAIR PT. 2 (EXTRA CREDIT)

A continuation of yesterday's prompt! I had thought up a few more scenes of what Rhiki and Urianger might do at a fair together, but I didn't have enough time to fit them in, so I made them my extra-credit entry for today!

Rating: General Genre: Fluff, humor Characters: Urianger Augurelt, Z'rhiki Irhi (Warrior of Light) Word Count: 2,523 Content Warnings: None

“Y-you really don’t have to give it to me. You could pick out something else that you like!” Rhiki insisted, but Urianger shook his head, and once again proffered the almost-comically-large Major General plush in her direction.

“Nay, ‘twas always mine intent to bequeath the spoils of victory unto you.” He insisted with a chuckle. “’Twas my greatest of pleasures to assist. I would be most gratified if you would accept mine offering.”

Something about the formality with which he spoke about such a trivial matter made her snort with laughter. “Okay, okay, I’ll take it.” She relented, and accepted the awkwardly-sized stuffed toy. She beamed at it, then looked up at her companion. “Thanks, Urianger.”

“Think nothing of it,” he said with a flourished wave of his hand.

“I still can’t believe you actually did it,” she marveled. “That was… actually really impressive.”

He straightened his posture in exaggerated (well, for Urianger at least, she thought) pride. “’Twas but a trifle for one possessed of mine acumen.” She giggled. “In truth, ‘tis more of a feat of mathematics than physical prowess, and so did I find myself well-suited to the task.”

“And you’re taller, so you can get a better view. And throw from higher up.” Rhiki pointed out.

“This… may have also been a factor in mine estimations.” He admitted, making Rhiki huff.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t rub it in.” She griped playfully. “Anyway, what do you want to do next?”

Urianger considered this question, scanning the stalls and games lining the streets. “Hmmm,” He looked back down at her. “I am forced to concede that I am at a loss. Might thou proffer a suggestion?”

“Hmmm…” Rhiki hummed in a perfect echo of his sentiment. She squinted to read signs further down the street, wracking her mind for something that they would both enjoy. Her eyes landed on a purple tent towards the end of the road, decorated with silvery stars. “Oh! I have an idea. You’ll love this – fortune telling!”

“A fine suggestion!” Urianger agreed. “’Twill be most interesting to learn what might await us both in the future!”

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Z’rhiki exited the tent with sagging shoulders, Fripon trotting along behind her.

Taking in her grim expression, Urianger questioned, “Were the seer’s predictions not pleasing?”

“Ugh!” Rhiki sighed. After a moment, though, she smiled, shrugging off the roegadyn’s ominous portent. “Don’t worry, though, it’s not that serious. It’s just in good fun.”

“May I ask what question thou posed?” He ventured.

“You really want to know?”

“I am most interested,”

With Urianger’s earnest golden eyes on her, she suddenly felt very self-conscious. She hoped she wasn’t blushing. “I asked her about my love life,” She admitted, not sure why she was so embarrassed to admit such a thing to him. Maybe because it seemed so frivolous.

“Indeed? And the results of the divination were not to thy liking?” She had thought he might find this amusing – that the Warrior of Light was preoccupied with such unimportant matters – but his expression was one of genuine curiosity.

She shook her head, the small braids on one side of her hair swinging back and forth. “Nope. Apparently the future looks grim. Disastrous even.” Saying it out loud, she was struck by how comical it sounded, and suddenly burst out into a short fit of laughter.

Though her giggling eased the serious expression on his face back into a small smile, he still placed a hand on her shoulder. “Take heart, my friend! It presseth against the boundaries of belief that one with true knowledge of the stars’ designs would be found offering their wisdom to the public for a mere 50 gil. And, as we both well know, even the will of the star itself can be changed.”

Still snickering, she swatted his hand off of her shoulder. “I know that, silly! I appreciate the thought, though. Now, your turn!”

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Z’rhiki was crouched down, entertaining Fripon with a long, tufted weed she had plucked from the ground, when Urianger stepped back out into the light of the fair. She straightened up to her full, inconsiderable height.

“Well, how’d it go?” She demanded when he was close enough that she didn’t have to shout.

“The soothsayer hath revealed to me that, in my previous incarnation on this star, I did live as a thistle mole. A most intriguing supposition.”

Rhiki almost choked on her own laughter. “A thistle mole?” She cackled. “Why were you a thistle mole?!”

Urianger remained unfazed, his tone still good-humored. “Must there be a reason for any single creature’s existence?”

It was one of those esoteric questions that tended to pop up in conversations with him, and her laughter subsided as she contemplated it… whatever it meant. She decided a fair was hardly the place for such deeply involved rumination, however, and quickly changed the subject.

“Let’s- Let’s save that question for another time, shall we?” She suggested. “Anyway, why did she tell you about your past life? She didn’t tell me about my past life!”

“Mayhaps mine ‘aura’ did suggest that such knowledge would be of the greatest benefit to me?” He posited, lightly.

“Well I don’t see how. Did you tunnel in the dirt as a thistle mole? Eat bugs? Get chased by angry botanists?”

“Such details were not afforded to me by the reading. Presumably, I would have done all of these things and more.”

“What more does a thistle mole usually do?”

He must not have had an answer to this question, she thought, because his reply was unnecessarily cryptic. “What more need a thistle mole do?”

“Uhh…” Not only did she not have an answer, she had no idea what type of answer the question called for. So instead, she posed a different one as she led them away from the fortune telling tent. “Okay, what do you think I was in a past life?”

Urianger gave this some thought. He searched, it seemed, for an answer that would not offend – much like a real carnival fortune-teller. “Mayhap thou were a goblin. This would explain thine affinity for them, and the ease with which thou art able to communicate with them.”

“That’s because I spent a lot of time around Idyllshire, not because I used to be a goblin,” She pointed out. “Plus, who doesn’t like gobbies? They’re cute!”

“Then mayhap… a dragon?”

She shook her head. “Now you’re just trying to flatter me! There’s no way I was a dragon! That’s the best you’ve got? I thought you were an astrologian! Ask the stars or something!”

“Nay, thou art correct.” He conceded, “I did not consider thy question with adequate diligence. Prithee wait a moment. I shall consult the stars.”

She stopped walking a step after he did. “Wait, you’re not actually going to try right now are you?”

Urianger held up a hand to silence her, his face already turned skywards. They stood there for more than a minute as he gazed at the stars. Rhiki was starting to worry people would notice the strange behavior when she saw Urianger nod in understanding. “I see…” He muttered.

“What? What is it?”

He looked down at her with a serious expression. “The stars hath lent me their wisdom. In thine past life, I believe thou to have been a common garden worm.”

“WHAT?!”

This time it was Urianger who laughed, a sound that might have been strange and unfamiliar to her had she not been so flustered. “I almost believed you for a second!” She exclaimed, giving him a light slap on the arm. “I can’t believe you said I was a worm!”

Urianger did his best to contain his laughter, though failed to actually do so. “Mine apologies,” He offered yet again. “Shall we proceed to another attraction?”

“Ugh, whatever! I bet I was the coolest worm ever! All the other worms probably loved me!” She grumbled as they resumed their walk.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Thy training as a dragoon still serveth thee well,” Urianger observed as they pushed through the curtains at the exit of the small “Haunted House” – though rather than a house guests were taken through a temporary wooden construction designed for easy assembly and disassembly.

“Huh?” Rhiki asked, not quite following. She leaned down and scooped up Fripon as they descended the handful of steps to the street. She squinted at Urianger. “Was that… a joke? Are you making fun of me?”

“Nay nay,” He insisted jovially. “I merely surmised that the instinct to leap with such height and distance in response to fright must have been instilled in thee during thy many hours of practice with the lance.”

“You are making fun of me! I wasn’t scared! I was just… startled! I’ve fought way scarier monsters than a lalafel in black robes who grabs at your ankles! And at least I was paying attention! You were so interested in the displays that you completely missed one of the jump scares.” Though the interior had been kept intentionally dark, she could clearly remember seeing the confusion on one actor’s ghoulishly painted face as he leapt from a hidden door, fake knife in hand, only to find that his victim had failed to even notice his entrance. Rhiki had found the scene hysterically funny,

Urianger nodded, unbothered by the accusation. “It is indeed impressive that the organizers are able to use such limited resources to such great effect. To use scarlet sap mixed with currant juice to create the impression of fresh blood displays a commendable dedication to their craft.”

“I still can’t believe you almost tasted that,” Rhiki said. “I guess I never really thought about it before? You see stuff like that at haunted houses all the time. Cotton bolls used for cobwebs and all that. Oh! But did you see the big diremite? That was pretty cool!”

“Indeed. ‘Twas most frightening.” Urianger agreed, though she hadn’t seen him so much as flinch during the entire experience. “The application of simple thaumaturgy to create the effects of mist and thunder was quite ingenious.”

Rhiki glanced over to another section just off of the main street, where she saw light whirling around. “If you like that, you’ll love this! Some of the local conjurers use wind-aspected magic and old barrels to made spinning rides! Let’s do that next!”

Having released Fripon, she skirted back towards the entrance of the attraction to pick up the prize Urianger had gifted her, which the attendant graciously had offered to hold for her while they were inside. Upon returning to where he stood, she grabbed him by the wrist with her free hand and tugged him along with her. “C’mon, let’s go!”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Well, what did you think?” She tried not to sound smug as she watched Urianger stumble off the attraction after her. “Was that fun, or what?”

The contortions of his face as the seats hurdled and spun had already told her what he would say. Urianger groped at the nearest solid surface to steady himself, eyes knit together in a pained expression. “Surely… thou jests.”

“Maybe a little,” She admitted, snickering. She reached up to pat his shoulder, a feat which she had to stand on the tips of her toes to accomplish.

Urianger groaned. “It defies my comprehension… that so many should willingly subject themselves to such a harrowing experience… as a form of entertainment.”

“I dunno. It makes sense to me.” Rhiki shrugged. “But I probably should have warned you it might make you a little woozy. That’s why I thought we should do it before we ate.”

“I-indeed. A wise choice.” Urianger managed. “Thy constitution is, as ever, alike to iron. Truly a fortunate quality to possess…”

She offered him an encouraging smile. “Are you alright?”

“Yes… I believe I shall recover shortly.”

She gave him a few moments to catch his breath and reassemble his insides. She was reminded of their first journey to Thavnair, when they had all ended up with aether sickness from the experimental aetheryte trip. It put her in mind of an idea.

“Oh, remember that lassi that Estinien bought us when we first landed in Yedlihmad? Maybe they’ll have something similar here. You wait here and keep an eye on Fripon for me, I’ll be right back! When you’re feeling better, we can get some festival food and head to the pier – I think my favorite part is starting soon!”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh, wow!” Rhiki’s voice, though soft, rose over the crackling above them, and she pointed. “Did you see that bright purple one? I wonder how they get them that shape…”

Urianger didn’t respond, but took another sip of the pink, melon-flavored drink he had purchased. Rhiki had informed him that it was a popular choice at summer festivals. At their feet, Rhiki’s unicolt lapped at a small bowl of shaved ice she had purchased for him.

Urianger glanced down at the miqo’te, watching her tear another chunk off a large piece of fried dough and pop it into her mouth. Her eyes never left the sky, where above them another volley of colorful fireworks exploded, some twinkling out of existence and others leaving glowing streaks in their wake as they spiraled. She was leaning over the pier’s iron railing, eyes wide and her lips, though parted in wonderment, forming a clear smile.

“Oh, pretty!” She murmured and he smiled as well. Once the last sparks of light from the cluster had vanished, she suddenly noticed his eyes on her.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shook his head. “’Tis nothing of import. ‘Tis simply nice to see thee so thoroughly enjoying thyself. The sight of such a genuine smile on thy lips has become a rarity these past some-odd years.”

Her ears lowered a fraction of an inch, and she fidgeted, her eyes darting to the side. “What? I smile all the time!” she insisted, though she seemed somewhat embarrassed that he had noticed such a thing.

He watched her face for a few seconds longer, but then shook his head. “Thou art correct. Mayhap it was but a trick of the light. Pay me no mind.”

“Okay,” she said, relaxing a bit. “You should be watching the fireworks anyway! They’re beautiful!”

“Just so.” He was about to follow her advice when he felt a tugging on his robe. He glanced down to find that Rhiki’s unicolt had reared back on his hind legs and planted his forehooves against his own calf. Fripon craned neck to look up at him.

“I think Fripon wants some of the melon from your drink.” Rhiki observed.

Chuckling, Urianger knelt down. He fished a piece of Allagan melon from the drink and offered it to Fripon, who eagerly accepted the treat, going so far as to lick the juice from his hand. “A reward for his exemplary performance as a friend and companion.” Urianger declared. The unicolt whinnied.

“Fripon says thank you,” Rhiki pretended to translate. “Now come on, you’re going to miss the grand finale!”

With a smile, he rose to his feat and the two watched as a spray of fireworks lit the sky.

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #final fantasy xiv #ffxv #urianger augurelt #urianger #rhiki tag #fripon tag #auggie writes

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kimbapisnotsushi · 2 years ago

Note

Hi....Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite anime (can be series or movies) or top 10 favorite manga? And why do you love them? Also, what are your top 5 (or top 7) favorite moments from any anime (can be series or movies) or manga that you loved?

Sorry if I ask too much, feel free if you want to answer both of my questions or just pick either one......Thanks....

aaaahh no i'm so honored to be asked something like this!! these are REALLY hard questions tho LMAO like holy shit i STRUGGLED. i ended up choosing the series/moments that left me with the greatest emotional impact or were really formative during my younger years. this turned into a really long and wordy post so uhhh sorry about that, I would have added more pics but they couldn't all be the same size so i gave up LMAO. Anyways let's get into it!!

TOP 10 ANIMANGA SERIES/MOVIES (in no particular order)

I. HAIKYUU!!

I wouldn't be much of a Haikyuu!! fan if this wasn't number one on the list (even though I said they were in no particular order, haha). With how the anime adaptation is coming along, I do absolutely recommend reading the manga. Aside from the fact that the art is just gorgeous, I love how Furudate puts so much care into the characters and story. The symbolism and poetic one-liners that have no business being in a sports manga are fucking fantastic, the development is great, everyone gets a happy and fulfilling ending, and it all wraps up like an emotional sucker punch to the stomach. I also LOVE that there's so much canon material for fans to play around with, and that there's so much left to the imagination. Haikyuu!! really is just a master class in storytelling and a total dream to analyze.

II. THE NIGHT BEYOND THE TRICORNERED WINDOW

Okay, I lied earlier. I just HAD to put this one second. (I swear after this the order doesn't matter!) It has an anime series and live-action movie adaptation, which I haven't watched, but I've heard that they don't really do the manga justice. Now, I wouldn't really recommend this one to kids, which I guess can be pretty broad or specific based on your definition? Strictly speaking there aren't any NSFW explicit scenes - nobody even gets naked at any point nor is it the hated ecchi style with random underwear/breast shots or whatever - but the two main characters are pretty euphemistic in, say, the first quarter or so of the series.

(Hiyakawa borrows power from Mikado and when that happens the feelings mirror the pleasure of intercourse, to put it bluntly, but that's not something that actually ever happens. Mostly we, the audience, just see Mikado get red and flustered, although Hiyakawa says/does shit to go along with it sometimes. It gets milder -> nonexistent as the plot progresses because that's not really the focus of the story.

Also, if you're sensitive to dubious consent then this probably isn't for you, since a big part of Hiyakawa's arc is learning how to be less fucked-up than he is and he often uses Mikado's power while Mikado tells him to wait or slow down - not because he wants to hurt Mikado or make him suffer, but because Hiyakawa just genuinely doesn't know that it's the wrong thing to do due to his upbringing. I won't go into why for spoiler reasons, but it becomes really clear by the end of the story. For those of you who are willing to look, I'm going to show a couple pics of this in action down below - otherwise, please skip over it and just scroll down to the parenthesis.

I wasn't really expecting to to go as in-depth as I did about this, and I do love this series, but I also want to give fair warning since the way the dialogue and Mikado's expressions are depicted give off a very real sense of urgency that I would hate for anyone to be caught off guard/be triggered by. I'd love to talk more about it if anyone wants to ask, but I've already diverged enough from the original question.

I don't want you thinking that they have an imbalanced toxic relationship in which Hiyakawa has all the power and Mikado is subservient to him, though, because that's not what it is either. Mikado has always been his own person, and Hiyakawa never tries to control him in any way besides from his own misunderstanding of consent. They help each other on equal grounds, but apparently the anime does a terrible job of showing that.

END )

So, why do I love this series? Well, it's modern paranormal/supernatural, which I'm a HUGE fan of. Apparently Gege Akutami (Jujutsu Kaisen author) named it as one of their own favorites, and once you read it you can really see a LOT of similarities. There's a character just like Okkotsu in that they've done REALLY shitty things and don't know whether they deserve to live or not. There's also a lot of learning how to be brave when you've been running scared your entire life and taking back your own control/power through it. And, other than the heavy stuff, it's actually quite funny. There was one moment I wasn't expecting where I actually laughed out loud.

Also, the characters are really compelling! Aside from everything I said about Hiyakawa earlier, he's one of those nonsensical types who says the most ridiculous things with the utmost sincerity and with a straight face. Mikado acts as his opposite - he easily freaks out and is very expressive. Also, the villain? Like holy SHIT. I could go on about them forever. Like. Holy fucking shit. Top-tier how they handled the boss battle because hoooolyyyyyy shiiiiiiit. But I don't want to spoil, so I'll leave it at that.

Also, the background stories for the characters - once you get to them - will break your heart. Yamashita draws really simply, sure, but they have such a powerful way with storytelling that the emotions just hit you like a brick through the window.

Mostly, though, it is a story about healing, and I'm a sucker when a bunch of people who need to heal in different ways because of the same thing all come together and help each other. I can also guarantee a happy ending, so look forward to that!

III. SNOW WHITE WITH THE RED HAIR

Oh, how I love this series. I know the anime hasn't adapted to its current point, so I def encourage you to read the manga even though it's not complete yet either (and I started in like middle school LMAO). Shirayuki was honestly such a huge role model for me growing up - she was smart and pretty and determined and, even when she wasn't so sure of herself, she always wanted to do the right thing. All the characters in the main squad are so lovely and feel like a real family altogether, and I adore every single one of them. It's sweet and romantic and nails nonmagical fantasy worlds right on the head, and I'd LOVE for more people to get on board with it.

(If you need more convincing, there's pirates and festivals and assassins and a character to love for every single person out there. I know Kiki and Mitsuhide are enough to cause a crisis.)

IV. BOYS RUN THE RIOT

OKAY Y'ALL. LISTEN UP. YOU WANT MORE LOUD AND PROUD QUEER REP IN MANGA?? HERE'S YOUR QUEER REP COME AND GET IT.

It doesn't have an anime adaptation so you can't really watch anything and be done with it, but there's only four volumes so it's easy to collect. it's a story about a transgender teenage boy named Ryo who expresses himself through fashion and GOD I love everything about this series. Jin is the BEST ally. It feels like such a warm hug to see something so proudly represented in manga. ALSO Boys Run the Riot started as a prototype one-shot that the author entered into a contest, and in THAT one of the first characters prototype-Ryo comes out to actually reveals to him that he's Korean!! He kept it hidden and changed his name to protect his identity!! Do you know how fucking REAL Keito Gaku was for that!! Like there is a whoooole conversation to be had about that topic but that is not for now!!

Anyways yes Boys Run the Riot makes you want to cheer and scream when everything comes together in the end because it felt like an uphill battle you were holding your breath through the entire time and I LOVE that they get a hopeful ending. Give it a try, I'm BEGGING.

V. CARDCAPTOR SAKURA

Okay, I'm going to be honest: this is pretty much the only series that has a manga AND an anime in which I've only ever seen the anime. I hear it does a pretty good job of adapting, though, so I'm not too concerned about it. (I do plan on reading the manga to catch up to the Clear Card arc.) I'll also admit upfront that since CCS is a kids' series, there were quite a few problems in it that I didn't realize until I was much older and went back to it.

I like that Sakura feels like a very real protagonist. She was scared and wimpy quite often, and as a kid it was really empowering to watch her develop into someone confident of herself and her abilities. She's got such a great supporting crew behind her, too! I especially loved that CLAMP brought in Syaoran and Meilin from Hong Kong - even nowadays, a lot of non-Japanese foreigner animanga characters fall into the American or European category.

Also, Yuki and Touya. Just do it for them. Seriously. You can watch CCS for them and ignore everything else.

Mostly CCS, for me, was fun and magical and a great escape for a little kid who wanted to get lost in a world not too far from their own. Also, it's got that 90s-drawn aesthetic we all know and love.

VI. PLAY IT COOL, GUYS!

Honestly, I love all of Kokone Nata's works so far. She's one of the more modern authors who got picked up on Pixiv, and I'm really looking forward to seeing where she's going. Play It Cool, Guys! is one of my favorites. It's actually a manga in color, and Kokone Nata utilizes it beautifully. She has so many fun characters and makes normal, everyday life seem so bright and fun. And not to sound like a main character, but I'm also a very clumsy, accident-prone person, so it's really nice to be able to see the crew do everything that I do and do their best to overcome them.

I also love how naturally their relationships develop. Like, seriously - how would a high school kid, two entirely separate and totally opposite college students, a late-20s office employee, and a semi-famous author all fall in together?? Everything is up to fate but Kokone Nata has a way of never making it feel forced. It's not at all unreasonable to bump into each other at the bookstore or in the park - especially when we see that they actually DO interact as strangers first who all happen to hang out/live near each other, and they just drift closer when they finally recognize each other. It's so subtle but so amazing to watch in action.

Also, it's very soothing and fluffy and healing and you absolutely do not have to put the amount of analysis I do into it LMAO, so if you ever need a pick-me-up I absolutely encourage this series or any of Kokone Nata's works!

VII. POKÉMON

Yeah, yeah I know. But I couldn't not include another childhood fave!! It was one of the very first I watched and Ash is honestly such a great protagonist and role model for younger kids. Sure, he can be an annoying brat in the ten-year-old way, but he takes losing like a champ and he always tries to do what's right. He was incredibly selfless, kind, and considerate for a character of that age and growing up alongside that really taught me a lot about what I wanted to put out into the world. Watching any episode just makes me feel comforted and like I'm paying an old friend a visit and it will always be in my favorites list. Plus the dub actually has some HILARIOUS lines LMAO.

Also, the Special Adventures manga series by Hidenori Kusaka is a total gem and was my first introduction to fandom, so if you're a Pokémon fan who hasn't read it then I really encourage you to check it out!

(I would like to make a note that I got stuck after this and was kind of fishing around in my head for the last three LMAO)

VII. HIBI CHOUCHOU

This one is one of my favorite high school romance series - it's sweet and fluffy and might be a little cheesy, but the characters are all so lovely and you can't help but want to cheer them on! The plot is kind of ridiculous when you first start it - "all guys instantly fall in love with the super pretty MC who hates the attention and has been declared 'unattainable' because of her distant attitude towards them and ends up falling for the one guy who didn't act crazy-in-love with her from the start" - but it's really heartwarming to see the growth Suiren and Taichi go through. I also really love Taichi because he feels so different and refreshing from a lot of high school romance manga male lead/love interests that I've seen. (Maybe because of the glasses? I can't name any other male lead/love interest with glasses LMAO.) It's such a gentle series and feels like a warm hug, and watching two quiet people find their way together really did wonders for shy high school me.

IX. FADED FIRST LOVE

Oh gosh, this one is SUCH a gem! You know how sometimes people want representation as a sweet story that's not about an identity crisis but just having fun and in love? That's what Faded First Love feels like. It's genuinely funny and sweet, and while Aoki DOES encounter a couple homophobic problems here and there, it's mostly lighthearted and nothing he can't handle with the help of his friends. He and Iida are both learning and doing their best, and it's one of the series I go back to whenever I want a pick-me-up.

X. JUJUTSU KAISEN

I did say before that I was a huge fan of mixing paranormal phenomena with modern settings, and Jujutsu Kaisen is a great example of that. It's crazy how much thought was put into the technical aspects of that world - every time I think about Gojo explaining to Itadori how to channel cursed energy, it makes my head hurt. The monster designs are so creative and the characters are all such a great bunch. I tear up whenever I remember Miwa listening to Mechamaru's voice recording on the plane. What really nailed it as a Top 10 for me was JJK Volume 0, because hooolyyy shiiiit. Okkotsu's growth was FANTASTIC to watch and I LOVE how confident he is now and how he follows the philosophy of "the people I care about care about you" when it comes to Itadori.

So that's it!! God, that was hard. I hope you enjoyed, and for anyone else reading it I hope this encourages you to pick up one or the other!!

Honorary mentions to: Promare, Kimi ni Todoke, From Up on Poppy Hill, Our Not-So-Lonely Planet Travel Guide, Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun, and tbh I'd list more but that would take forever LMAO

This is already a really long post so I'll reblog or make a part two with my fave moments, I'll let you know!

thanks all <333

#JKDBLUIFHAUFAWF THIS WAS SO LONG OH MY GOD I'M SO SORRY #THIS IS THE LONGEST POST I HAVE LMFAO #haikyuu!!#sankaku mado no sotogawa wa yoru #the night beyond the tricornered window #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #boys run the riot #cardcaptor sakura #play it cool guys #cool doji danshi #pokemon #hibi chouchou #kieta hatsukoi #faded first love #jujutsu kaisen #sou says stuff #sou answers

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thewestern · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 5

Helplessly the Mick looked as Mayor Mockingbird seemingly gravitated toward the small stage. The band was in between songs. Did Larry intend to sit in? Another funny thing about him was that he played the banjo. It was sort of his calling card — a whistle stop parlor trick for all the yokels. Sometimes you had to hand it to him. City slick politicians would go to great lengths to achieve the au natural aesthetic of down-home folksiness. Dress in head-to-toe denim … climb up on some farm equipment … pose with a prize hog. ( … But enough about his wife … ) Heck, the Mayor’s close friend and party-mate wore a bolo tie, boots and a six-x cowboy hat — day in and day out — and he got himself elected to the United States Senate. He stomped them genuine ostrich shitkickers all over them Capitol steps, and would you know what happened next? The President gave that wannabe hillbilly a cabinet appointment … Secretary of the damn Interior. Sure, by the time the next president swore in he was bucked off that gold pony before you could say Jack Robinson. He hardly lasted the eight seconds, but by the grace of god Himself he landed quite softly in a very cushy gig: consulting on behalf of Morningstar Petroleum. (Or more officially the industry group which fronted for them.)

Yes, in American politics it paid to be pastoral, or at least to appear as such. But whatever country-fried humiliation a man was willing to suffer for electoral advancement, few if any would go so far to learn the banjo and pick the fucking Foggy Mountain Breakdown. But that was Larry Mockingbird for you. Shameless in service of himself.

Scurrying out a few steps ahead, the Mayor’s waifish male page removed a three-by-five note card from his leather padfolio, handed it to the musician stage left with the acoustic guitar, and scampered on back to his boss. The guitar player took a look down at the card, stepped to the mic and said: Ladies and Gentleman, thank you so much for being here on this lovely afternoon. The boys and I are going to take a short break. In the meanwhile, please give a warm welcome to the stage for our dear friend, Mayor Lawrence Mockingbird. [Metered applause.]

Thank you! Thank you all. So much. You know in my line of work it’s rare you have to follow live music, and if you’ve ever had the pleasure to attend a meeting of my colleagues on the City Council, you’d understand why.

[Polite laughter.]

So let’s hear one more round of applause for this spectacular band, and please go easy on me, I beg you.

[Frisbee golf clap.]

And … aand … I couldn’t help but notice the song you were playing when I came in. At the risk of incriminating myself, I’ll let you all in on a little secret, but you have to promise not to tell those persnickety councilmembers, because then I’m really in a pickle. Okay, so brace yourselves … Before I entered the beer business, once upon a time, I … was a Deadhead.

[Stray yelps.]

I know, I know. Shocking, but true. And people who know this about me often ask, how did you manage to go from following around the Grateful Dead with a bunch of hippies in your twenties — and to be completely honest a good part of my thirties — to becoming the Mayor of the greatest city in the world in your middle forties. And I’d tell them, I haven’t the slightest idea.

[Incrementally shorter spurt of obligatory laughter.]

It’s been a long strange trip you could say.

[Laughter still, with interspersed groans.]

And … aand … It was the man who we’re all here to honor today, our beloved friend Hank, who traveled with me far and wide over this great country, from coast to coast and back, on our quest to see as many shows as was humanly possible. And I’ll spare you the details, for the sake of sparing my political future, so you’ll just have to believe me when I tell you we had the time of our lives.

Already, the Mick couldn’t help but bristle at this, what was obviously revisionist history. Hank had gabbed incessantly about his Glory Days following the Grateful Dead. Like he himself was playing in the band. These were his war stories. Slanging grilled cheese sandwiches for gas money, rolling around a haystack with the farmer’s daughter, fixing a flat in a white-out blizzard on I-69 (his Vietnam).

For a few years there I just went Kerouac on everyone’s ass, he’d reflected once, wistfully. Like any half-decent story, a fixture of these psychedelic parables was the comic relief, Larry Mockingbird. And it was laughter at his expense, in case there was any confusion. Recall: Moffett, Mary Ellen. Misadventures with the opposite sex aside, Larry was your classic Touch Head, or an In-the-Darker, which are just two ways of saying he was a phony, a pouser, a tinhorn, a Johnny-come-lately. (Or rather a Larry-come-too-early, as was oft-rumoured in various concentric social circles. Well, it beats the alternative, as Russ argued in a rare and telling defence of his nemesis, Lawrence.) Accusations not to be taken lightly, for If there were one thing a TrueBlue Deadhead could not abide, it was the misappropriation of their culture.

On the low down, Larry was always more into that yacht rock, adult contemporary sound, Hank said. You know, Doobie Brothers, Steely Dan… blue-eyed soul and all that jazz fusion horse crap. He only tagged along with us to shows to chase skirts, not that he had hardly any luck at that. Give him credit for trying though. That was one thing you had to begrudgingly admire about Larry … he always went where the getting was good. I mean, you try getting laid at a Christopher Cross concert.

But don’t you be fooled by any of that foolishness, Hank would warn the Mick. When you got between Larry and something he wanted, he could be meaner than a badger. A sow, on her period. For a fact, the most dangerous place in the Metro Area was anywhere between Mayor Mockingbird and a camera, once said one of his most trusted aides turned most fiercest political rival. Yea, he had the banjo, the big words. But when the chips are down? Well, you would do good to forget all that quirky bullshit, lickety split. Make no mistake. Mockingbird was a cold-blooded killer. He would cut your arm off to carry the Seventh District. Sell his own mother into white sex slavery. He’d do it. In a heartbeat.

The Mayor continued …

As for the man of the hour, let’s toast, to Hank. [Collective raising of glasses.] If I could be so bold as to try to describe him, I would say, here was a man for his place and time. You know, there’s this word that I love, and the word is Topophilia. Topophilia means love of place. More than anyone I ever knew, Hank had Topophilia.

Sounds like an STD, the Mick thought. In which case, Hank probably did have it.

A love of place. [Rehearsed contemplative pause.] Loving something means being willing to sacrifice for it. And we all make sacrifices. Though there are some who sacrifice all — the brave men and women of our armed services, ... and if any of you are here today, I’d like to personally buy you a beer. First responders, too. [Drunken hollers.] I think we all would. [U-S-A, aborted chant.] But, we all have to make sacrifices. When I think back on my life, I’m proud to have worked for the Federal Government as a citizen contractor, and here for the City Government as a civil servant. Still, I can’t think of a time when I’ve had to sacrifice more than when I was an entrepreneur.

Here I am in a room full of entrepreneurs, and I’m seeing a lot of nodding heads. You’ve all spent the endless days that turn into sleepless nights. You know that to build something for your community. To create jobs that provide for families. To serve your customer in the marketplace. That, my friends, requires a sacrifice that is truly uncommon.

Oh my god, this is taking forever, Grace thought. Julie was giving her all the signals … She was ready to make the ultimate sacrifice. Lay it all on the line. Grace needed an exit strategy to get them out of this bar and back to her apartment, pronto. She had never gotten with a metal chick before. Jam bands were her scene, which made her a strong culture fit at the Newfy. Preferably they could beat her roommates back from their hike, Grace thought. She had a feeling this could get loud.

But then this asshole, who Grace did not recognize from Adam — she did not care for politics or keep abreast of political issues — was making a speech for some fucking reason … And these nerds were standing around all quiet blocking the way out of the booth. That he made allusions to the Grateful Dead had not charmed Grace in the slightest, even as a jam band fan herself. Most fans of the contemporary set — Phish, to a lesser extent Cheese, WSP, etc. — at the very least revered the Dead as the spiritual and artistic vanguards of the genre, such as it was. By contrast, there was a reactionary faction of hardliner Deadheads that dismissed the new school as derivative and shallow. Most of the younger generation were willing to overlook this minority resentment, but a defiant few, Grace among them, returned the favor and resented the Grateful Dead right back. Them and their Baby Boomer, Greatest Generation-ass fans could pound sand.

Fuck’s sake, here he goes again …

And I’ll tell you one quick story to that effect. One of our startup war stories, so to speak. When we were just getting going, before we sold our first pint, I called every wholesaler within a hundred miles, every direction. Every last one of them said, no thanks. So not only were we working seven days a week, fourteen hours a day to get our fledgling excuse for a beer business off the ground, but unbeknownst to us, we were simultaneously entering the highly competitive business of beverage distribution. Of course we didn’t have a truck with temperature control. We didn’t even have cars! We had both driven company leases to the jobs we got laid off from before starting the Newfy!

So, Hank had an on-again-off-again girlfriend who had this busted-up old station wagon. This hunk was a beater’s beater — chipping orange paint job, accented with the wood paneling, lawn mower engine, had to be rolling started. And let me tell you before my administration got to work on the pothole problem afflicting our great roadways, driving that thing was like navigating the Titanic through the North Atlantic. But … buut, when you removed the back seat it could fit six kegs standing up on end. And that was all we needed. On good days we’d even have one riding shotgun, strapped into the passenger seatbelt.

I can’t recall the girlfriend’s name, it’s been so long …

(Liar … he fucking remembered.)

… But bless her heart, because somehow Hank convinced her to sell us that jalopy for a song. And I’ll tell you what else, we rode her till she bucked us. Driving to and fro to every dive bar, liquor store, VFW, pool hall, bowling alley. You name it.

When we were through with it, or I should probably say when it was through with us, that car had more than two hundred thousand miles on it, which some of you know to be about the distance from here to the moon. We thought that was kismet, given our previous careers. As was alluded, many of you know that Hank and I were co-workers before we became co-founders. We spent a combined thirty years at Cavness-Baumann. And then the Space Race ended and the party was over. Here we were, a couple of down-and-out rocket scientists without a clue.

Again, Hank would have strenuously objected to the Mayor’s accounting of their personal histories. One, not that it mattered, but Hank had worked twenty of those thirty years to Larry’s ten. Second, the term rocket scientist had been applied quite loosely indeed. Larry was a project manager, meaning his job was to hem and haw at the real rocket scientists until they got through with whatever it was he so urgently wanted.

Hank was one of those quote-unquote rocket scientists, but even he wouldn’t be comfortable with that exact phrasing. Not the title as he understood it implied — guys that work on spaceships. It was true Cavness-Baumann had some NASA contracts, but those guys working on the shuttle program were the real hard cases. They had them boys locked away in a bunker somewhere, doing long division for the rest of their lives. Engineering a quarter-inch rubber gasket that made it onto a rocket booster would count as a career achievement. Unless those rubber gaskets weren’t adequately temperature tested and it was colder than usual on launch day.

As for them two getting shitcanned when the Space Race ended, again, Larry was half right. The silent starter pistol for the Space Race was the Cold War, and the falling Berlin Wall its finish line. That was the real reason for the contraction of their industry — Aerospace, and Defense. Hank was more of a rocket scientist in the latter sense. Hellcat, Thunderstick, The Penetrator. These were missiles. (Although Hank always thought they sounded like sex toys, especially that last one.) All types — surface-to-air, air-to-surface, air-to-air, submarine-launched cruise missiles, ICBMs, antitank, antiship, assault, tactical. You name it. Yes, they made the rockets that blew up on purpose. Albeit quite often a safe distance from their strategic targets, at the expense of untold collateral damage and civilian casualties.

If he did work on an aerospace application, it was almost always space-to-earth, as in satellites. Quite often as they applied to missile defense systems, CB’s second most profitable product line to the missiles themselves. Some bad faith critics would construe that to be a conflict of interest. More generously it could be interpreted as vertical integration.

Other times though it was straight telecom — zapping hundreds of tv channels to a dish on your roof, or pinging that cellular phone in your pants pocket, holstered there atop your pelvic girdle, and by extension your reproductive organs, all throughout the day and the night.

Privately, Hank was ashamed of what he’d done for Cavness-Baumann. (Would ashamed be the right characterization? Rather, conflicted? Let’s go with conflicted.) He could admit it to himself, and maybe that was more than most, but he wouldn’t go so far as to say so out loud. No, he had trained evasive maneuvers for whenever his previous life’s work came up in polite conversation. For his part, Larry did not share a mutual feeling of contrition. Factually, it was his idea to go with the whole Space Theme when they started out — the brand name being a reference to then-Senator Kennedy’s famous DNC speech, accepting the nomination at the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum in ‘Sixty, the rocket tap handles, etc. Since he couldn’t contribute around the brewhouse in any useful capacity, Larry appointed himself the strategic marketing and brand manager. Said rocket scientists-turned-brewers was a compelling founder story. When he sold his shares shortly thereafter, Hank thought about changing the name to something that didn’t remind him of how he personally made the world a worse place, but it was already screen-printed on so much stuff. Glassware, coasters, stickers, t-shirts, the big sign out front.

Then Hank and I had this crazy idea. What if there was a third place? There’s the home, the workplace, and then what. For many that third place is a church or a temple or some other house of worship, but neither Hank nor I were regular parishioners. More spiritual — in the grand, cosmic sense — than religious. Besides, I don’t know that any congregation would take a pair of tramps like us.

[Polite laughter, dissipating now quite noticeably.]

A Third Place. Whither to be among family and friends. Or perhaps to meet new family and new friends. A place for love and fellowship. For community. A place for thinking about the future.

###

That morning in the handicap stall of the ladies' restroom Kitty took a pregnancy test. I wonder how many girls have pee’d on one of these plastic indicator wands in a bar bathroom, she wondered before stopping herself. She just hated to be judgmental, of herself or others. Beside, it’s not like this baby, if there even was one, was conceived in said stall. Not that it would have made you a bad person. Although couldn’t we all agree though that it wasn’t especially hygienic or considerate of your fellow pub goers. Unless maybe they were into that sort of thing?

All empathy for exhibitionism aside, she would have preferred to take the home pregnancy test at her home. Unfortunately those quarters were somewhat cramped. She felt fractionally better about using the public toilet with the F-word graffitied right there on the door, than she would have, smuggling the soiled applicator stick out of the house in an old hamburger bag. Either which way she wasn’t ready to tell Mick, whatever the result. And she felt really bad about that. Blend that bad feeling together with what she perceived to be morning sickness, and it had been an all-around crummy day so far.

She even felt bad about feeling bad. By any reasonable metric, this was supposed to have been unequivocally the best year of her life. Starting a new job at what was considered to be one of the most innovative middle schools in the country. Sure the pay still wasn’t stellar, but it was commensurate with her experience, which was much more than she could say about her last gig. Getting hitched, to the love of her life. That also happened in a bar … this bar … but that was on purpose. Exchanging vows right there beneath the altar of Bertha the bison head. It was a beautiful ceremony, and a damn sight shorter than any nuptials you’d have witnessed in a house of worship. Only thing missing was the officiant.

Now she was about to find out whether she was about to start a family with that man whom she loved like the sun would shine forever. The most joyous news of her life, it would be — all she ever wanted and more. And yet she couldn’t commit to telling him, the way she had always told him everything else, one way or t’other. Kitty wasn’t the secret-keeping type.

So she tried in vain to occupy her mind, first by grading five-paragraph essays, now by helping the bar replenish for the onslaught of orders sure to be inbound whenever Mayor Peckerwood was through delivering his speech. As for what he was saying, she wasn’t but half listening.

We spent a lot of time in bars in those days, which we chalked up to our competitive advantage. But this wouldn’t be just another bar. We would brew our own beer! In that way we’d be self-sufficient. Cultivators of our own garden. A company of yeomen craftsmen. Crafting eccentric beer for eccentric people. Truly progressive ales that pushed the boundaries of expectations of style and flavor profile. Recipes that made use of local ingredients whenever possible, imparting our own Western American terroir. Simply put, beer that would inspire a stronger sense of topophilia in all those who imbibed.

Beer that would make a promise to them. Challenge them. To be more.

[Fart noise.]

Here we are, many years later. I look around this room. What do I see? Not only does the promise of the New Frontier endure, but here today there are people from all over this Nation who have risen to meet the challenge we set forth. And it all but brings a tear to my eye. You know something — Hank and I’d use to joke: wouldn’t it be great if this were a place where there could be a group at one table, planning a heist? And then maybe a group over here at another table, planning a revolution? Well I believe that dream came true. Because, in a way, you are all rebels. Freedom fighters, in a Craft Beer Revolution!

Not what Hank was talking about. However, Larry had made out like a bandit.

Say it with me now: I am … a craft beer … revolutionary!

[Silence.]

You folks have taken an idea and made it an industry. I know that if Hank were here, he’d be proud as heck about it.

If Hank were here he’d be wielding an axe, looking for whatever cord was connected to this funky-ass microphone, the Mick annotated again internally. Short of that he’d have been long gone.

And I can assure you that I am proud to be a part of this network of entrepreneurs, craftsmen and craftswomen! [Whoos.] Everyday, I’m inspired by the example you set. As such, in the Mayor’s office I’ve worked tirelessly to transform our city into an Incubator for Innovation, and not just in beer. We are a category-agnostic accelerator — across sustainable energy, natural foods, technology and telecommunications, health and biotech and aerospace and defense.

The results speak for themselves. Our aggressive corporate relocation recruiting efforts and competitive tax incentive packages have attracted major companies to move their headquarters to this great city. Companies like Morningstar Petroleum, which has committed to creating hundreds of new, high-paying jobs right here in the Metro Area. Morningstar is making sure the world meets its energy needs, responsibly. They’re leading the charge to produce new technologies that reduce emissions. They’re creating more efficient fuels. Now they’re doing it all from a state-of-the-art, multi-million-dollar campus right here in our Seventh District!

That’s because the companies that do business here are a lot like the people that live here. They are engaged members of our community. Perhaps there’s no better example than one of your craft brewing brethren, #x_brüing (pronounced, X [space] Brewing … the hashtag and umlaut were silent and superfluous). Through the One Percent for the Planet initiative, #x_brüing has dutifully pledged to donate one percent of its net profit to social good causes, including crucial programs like the Urban Tree Initiative, which works to maintain and grow our city’s majestic Green Spaces. No doubt work that our friend Hank, who loved the outdoors so dearly, would find worthy of our admiration and support.

Is Jaime Delano here? Where is Jaime? There he is … Let’s hear it for Jaime and all the folks at #x_brüing for all the great work they’re doing. [Applause muffled through ambient professional jealousy.] Not only have Jaime and I become close friends through his participation in these and other civic issues, but perhaps its no surprise that we are both proud Newfer alumni.

One percent, the Mick pshawed. Quite literally, the least they could do, assuming it’s integers we’re talking. He had a whole separate bone to pick with Delano. For one thing, back when they worked together, Jaime (HI-may) was still Jamie (JAY-mee). Motherfucker done iglesia’d up his goddamn name. No matter. The Mick would continue to call him Dandy Jim, by and by. He was three assistant brewers before Grace — Zeke’s predecessor’s predecessor. If Russ were alive, he’d say, Mick, your ABs have about the retention rate of a Spinal Tap drummer. But that reference would be lost on him; he was not familiar with that band. In any case, Dandy Jim would just have to wait until whenever Mayor Mockingbird was through, if they could ever be so lucky. The Mick trafficked in one grudge at a time …

But it doesn’t stop in the private sector. We’re taking that very same entrepreneurial spirit and applying it to innovation in civil service. First and foremost, is public safety. Thanks to our public-private partnership with the Downtown Renewal and Revitalization Project, we’ve successfully activated our network of SAFE cameras, which enable the brave men and women of our law enforcement to better harness data and artificial intelligence toward protecting and serving our great city. Since the system went online, I am delighted to report that violent crime is down four percent year-over-year.

An important aside about the SAFE (Surveilling Activity For Evidence) cameras. Among other peacekeeping applications, the devices were perhaps most effectively deployed in tandem with an integrated gunshot detection technology, which utilized acoustic sensors to identify the sound and pinpoint the location of any firearm discharge within an echo radius of several hundred feet. The camera systems were manufactured by a wholly-owned IT solutions subsidiary of Karakuchi, Ltd., the Japanese conglomerate. Although it provided advanced digital solutions to customers across industry sectors, the Karakuchi brand was perhaps best known for its Kuchi Kendo Stick line of vibrating personal massagers, which was widely adopted by the marketplace for the misintended use case as a masturbation aid for women.

Secondarily is education. My administration has empowered high-achieving schools like Collegiate Academy of Scientific and Technological Excellence as they disrupt the increasingly obsolete model for public education in this country. Last spring they graduated their inaugural senior class. One hundred percent college matriculation rate. Kids of all races and socioeconomic backgrounds. Truly remarkable. In case any of you haven’t had the pleasure to visit the SciTech campus, I would urge you to seek it out. The architecture and interior design are stunning in and of themselves. Really, it’s the coolest school I’ve ever been inside by a long shot.

As for the existing schools within our network that have perpetually underperformed, under my leadership, we no longer tolerate failure on behalf of our kids. Look no further than right down the road, to West High School. As of just a few weeks ago, our groundbreaking experiment is underway. With generous philanthropic support, we’ve made massive capital infrastructure investment, manifested in dividing the student body into three micro-academies, thus manufacturing more intimate and engaging learning environments, furthermore fostering a more competitive landscape, or dare I say entrepreneurial spirit among the student body.

Make no mistake … The rest of the country is taking notice of what we’re building here. Assorted national media publications have ranked us the third best city in which to start a small business, the fourth best city to raise a family and a top eleven city for overall quality of life. And for everybody out there with their love lights turned on, according to another reputable ranking, we are the number two city for singles and dating. [Assorted oohs].

Get a grip, Zeke, he scolded himself. On this, unequivocally the most important day of his already fledgling career, all Zeke could think about was Grace, with whom he was deeply in love, and quite hopelessly by the looks of things. Like a flesh eating bacteria, love consumed him. From morning, stepping on his first bus of the day, commuting to work … Till night, stepping off his sixth bus of the day, headed for home.

Really he was having his first office crush, which anyone with experience can tell you is an altogether separate phenomenon from your standard school crush, for some inexplicable reason. But to Zeke, each new infatuation, regardless of from whence it came, was exactly the same — like spring bloomed anew. Indeed, he was a sensitive young man. And because he also filled out a large frame, he was the sort one might call a Gentle Giant. But really wasn’t that moniker misapplied to any big man who wasn’t proportionally brutish? It’s true Zeke did possess an innocent exuberance that endeared him to many, although usually not in that way. Romantically speaking. So on the other side of the coin, his unguarded personabiity could be a double-edged sword, when even a fleeting attraction would be so easily misconstrued for undying devotion. This making His an existence that was at once blissful and torturous.

Far as he knew, Grace was the first gay person he’d ever known. Here it was just his luck to fall head over heels for someone so uniquely unavailable. The amorous feelings were almost totally unspoken; they had hardly uttered more than a few stray words between them — out of paralyzing nervousness on his account, and unconscious indifference, hers. Rather for Zeke, the spark was physical. Something to do with the way she moved about the brewhouse, with undo elegance, exceedingly worthy of her name. Shot putting fifty-pound sacks of malted barley like they were feather pillows, on which for him to dream of her. Shoveling spent grain from the mash tun with the mechanized fluidity of an excavator, razing the planetary core of his soul. Spraying down the kettle as if to extinguish the fire that burned within him for her. Perhaps he was attracted to her competency in the occupation for which he had proven so inept. Who could say? Whatever it was, the suffocating feeling of seeing her with Julie, and also Margot the night prior, had emotionally metastasized into a fist-sized lump, lodged right there in his larynx. Somewhat confusingly, that sensation was a symptom of heartbreak and asthma.

Both afflicted him chronically.

Powerless to fight this feeling, Zeke wanted desperately to shake free from the shackles of his woe, and seize this professional opportunity that had fallen into his lap. After all, here was the Mayor, giving an unannounced speech at one of his coordinated events. The possibilities for social media engagement seemed endless. Actually it was the only moderately engaging thing to occur during his short tenure, outside of a heated dispute over Harry Potter-themed pub trivia that de-escalated just shy of magical violence. (The would-be combatants had managed to fire off a couple of rounds of dueling spells: Expelliarmus and Expecto Patronum, respectively.)

He was even peripherally interested in politics and other local issues —another thing he and Grace lacked in common — and had in fact cast his very first vote in any election for this very elected official. Twenty-some months previous, during his final semester before graduating West High School, Mayor Mockingbird had appeared at a special assembly to announce the aforementioned awarding of a multi-million dollar grant, endowed by the second richest man in the world, at the time. Wasn’t that something, Zeke thought. The money would be allocated to divide West High into three autonomous academies, to be housed within the existing facility. They were: an academy for culture and the arts, an academy for global marketplace and international studies, and an academy for Future Leaders.

Zeke didn’t have to give much thought unto which category he fell, being that he already had plans to attend City College in the fall, where from he had since taken a sabbatical of indefinite duration. He also didn’t have any opinion on the consternation the decision caused among his classmates and the broader community. In that moment he was more swept away by the spectacle of the thing. The mayor, visiting his school, on behalf of the second richest man in the world — at the time — no less. Alas, the latter could not attend personally. However in his stead, he was kind enough to dispatch one of those really big checks for the photo opp. You mean like Happy Gilmore, Mick would have asked. Zeke didn’t know who that was, so no … he could not be certain.

In a flash of clarity, Zeke remembered his new touchscreen camera phone. The Mick had issued it to him for work purposes, under the auspices that he could take photos and post them to the internet. But really because Kitty wanted Zeke to have any phone at all, on account of how he took the three buses to-and-from work, even though he only lived the five miles as the crow flew. In case of there was an emergency. Actually it was the same phone she had given to Mick on his last birthday. Not the same model — that exact one. Mick favored the old Flippy anyway, and he knew Kitty wouldn’t take offense to his regifting, especially if Zeke were on the receiving end.

Further snapping himself into focus, Zeke trained his digital lens on the Mayor, who any minute now would be arriving at a point … Before I raise one last toast to our old friend, Hank, I have a small announcement I’d like to make here in this place that was so special to us both. Before that though, I want to leave you with an old marketing parable I have cellared away from my days in the beer business. It’s something I share with all my incoming interns, as Charlotte and Schuyler here can surely attest.

Here the Mayor briefly gesticulated in the direction of the two Larry Youth members whom the Mick saw arrive in his wake. That brief moment of public acknowledgement was one they would not forget as long as they lived.

It concerns an old brewing outfit by the name of Schpunk Beer. When was the last time you all had a sip of Schpunk? Have any of you even ever tasted Schpunk? Here I am dating myself. Your fathers probably all drank Schpunk. I certainly guzzled more than my fair share of Schpunk as a young man. In any case, there was a time when this company you’ve never heard of, Schpunk Beer, was the third-largest domestic beer producer in the country. Life was good at the Schpunk plant. Until one year, all the corporate bigwigs got together in a boardroom, and some young hot shot came waltzing up with a presentation. He said, you know we’ve done some market testing, and we can change the recipe to cut costs on our ingredients by X percent, whatever it was, and our consumers can’t identify any discernible difference in the taste.

All the Schpunk VPs looked around at one another and said, well, what are we waiting for? And so they changed the recipe, ever so slightly. Two years go by, and some new slick marketing guy gets back up there in front of the boardroom — by now his predecessor has been promoted for saving the company untold millions — and he makes the exact same pitch. You know we could change the recipe … save X percent … can’t taste the difference … yada, yada, yada. And all the Schpunk guys say, wow, what a great idea. And they change the recipe again, ever so slightly.

This cycle repeats itself a handful of times until about a decade goes by, and all of a sudden Schpunk is in the toilet. Chapter Eleven. All those executives are looking around at each other as they’re cleaning out their corner offices, wondering what in the Sam Hell happened here? For Pete’s Sake, they did the market testing … And the tests were accurate. After each time they changed the recipe, and remember they only tweaked it, ever so slightly, the Consumers could not tell a difference in taste. However, what the executives failed to account for, was that all those small compromises compounded on one another. And when you taste-tested the nectar of the gods they started out with, against the backwater dregs it became … You could see the difference from outer space.

Listen here.

This is something I tell all my old friends, and I’ll tell you now. In the history of this great country, we are the first generation that is in danger of leaving less to our kids and our grandkids than we had. Take a moment and let that sink in … It’s true. And we are taking losses across the board. The economy, our education system, the environment. Bottom line: in the so-called land of opportunity, the next generation is heading toward a future with less of It. I look around the faces here and I can tell that scares the hell out of you just like it scares the hell out of me. I know you don’t want less. I can promise you I don’t want less. And we can be damned sure that our old pal Hank wouldn’t put up with less.

No-no-no. We want more. More for our future. More for our kids’ future and their kids’ future. We want more economic development. More education. More environmental conservation. More public safety. And we don't just want more … We need more … We demand more … And no matter what the cost … … … We will sacrifice for more!

As the gathered crowd roared, Mick looked up to the wall at Bertha, then down to the bar at Kitty who met his gaze intently.

So I put it to you, let’s make a choice, together, right now … to invest in our future. And make no mistake, it’s up to us right here in this room. The leaders. The disruptors. The innovators. The builders. The dreamers. The crazy ones. Those who will show up. Do the work. Folks who get things done.

Now allow me to put my money where my mouth is. It is my great privilege, in honor of my friend Hank and the dream we all together made come true, to declare my candidacy for the governorship of this great state.

Welcome to Day One … starting right here and now, we all take more! Thank you all!

As the Mayor again stuck both hands to the sky, a small passel of balloons fell from the ceiling. Where in the smoking hell did those come from, the Mick wondered, feeling bamboozled.. Right on cue, the band started back in on what figured to be the official campaign song. Out of a career that spanned decades and thousands of hours of recordings, for the Grateful Dead, this was their only ever single to crack the top-one hundred charts. Their one hit. How about that?

Sorry that you feel that way

The only thing there is to say

Every silver lining's got a

Touch of gray

[Groovy standup bassline]

The Mayor resumed shaking every hand within a wingspan radius, retracing his steps on his way back out the door, his campaign already rolling with the popular momentum of a runaway train. Zeke was holding his camera phone behind the news cameraman, demonstrating the cinematographic instincts to piggyback off his pro lighting rig and better capture the moment. Grace meanwhile was stuck in a moment she wished she could escape. Margot had arrived unexpectedly and had sat right back down in the booth on the other side of Grace from Julie. There she sat betwixt them, awaiting their inevitable discovery of her romantic indiscretion. Kitty was situated behind the bar, still awaiting the oncoming rush. She was wearing her same back-to-school ensemble, accessorized for the fall season with a denim jacket she’d had since she was herself a student. How had Hank’s sort-of funeral been highjacked by a popup campaign rally, she wondered, not that he’d have minded much — whatever animus he felt toward the Mayor. I know I like to take the piss at Larry, he confided in Kitty one Wednesday, getting late, but I want you to know that I truly do hate the man. And it’s a rotten hatred too. It scares me how I could hate another person so completely. Frankly I’m ashamed of it.

One of the preppy minions — the puggish female page — reached across the bartop and handed her an envelope. The underside was a form for making a donation. In the box marked required, you had to fill out your Name (First and Last), Address, Occupation and Employer. And credit card number and expiration date if that was your preferred form of contribution. The envelope itself was for depositing checks, or better yet cold hard cash. Kitty flipped it over. In the corner there was a little rectangular outline for postage, and then the logo. A shooting star underlining the slogan: More for Mockingbird.

The Mick drop-kicked a balloon away half-assedly as he watched the Mayor make his grand exit. Dandy Jim had joined the party. They were standing back by the front door, waving back at the adoring mass. The news anchor remained in the foreground, producing a microphone and talking into the camera. The sheriff’s deputy was in the shot, chewing gum with purposeful rigor. Off to the side, the representative from Morningstar Petroleum was chatting up an as-yet unidentified woman in a wax canvas barn coat with a corduroy collar, worn over a black turtleneck sweater. The Mick knew he recognized her too, but from where, he couldn’t immediately place. Wait, now he got it.

Well I’ll be damned, he said, out loud this time to no one in particular.

There goes Hildy Wolff.

#novls of tumblr #merry christmas #happy holidays

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rachello344 · 3 years ago

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I've been seeing a lot of... troubling takes on Bram Stoker in the Daily Dracula tag, so I want to be really clear here. Dracula is a queer novel, and Bram Stoker was almost certainly a queer man (and while he married a woman (who may have refused to have sex with her husband after their son was born) and had one child, he was very likely in a long-term commited relationship with a man named Henry Irving, a man he named their son for; said son resented his first name so much that he changed it because Henry Irving took up ALL of his father's time and he hated him for it).

Anyway, we don't know how he would have identified, but... Well, I'm going to quote the 2,000-word "fan" letter he wrote to Walt Whitman* as a young man (decades before he wrote Dracula), because I think it speaks for itself. *It is important to note, Walt Whitman himself was long thought to be queer, even during his life, largely due to the subject matter of his poetry. His poetry was mocked largely for its queer themes. If you read the letter in full, Stoker alludes to this response and how it contrasts with his own. Anyway, there's a lot of information about Walt Whitman's possible homosexuality, and quite a bit is simply on his wikipedia page, check under "controvercies" or "criticism" or something. I forget what the header is.*

The rest of the pertinent quotes (under the cut) are listed in chronological order, but this one (the final quote) is the most important and the most direct:

"How sweet a thing it is for a strong healthy man with a woman’s eye and a child’s wishes to feel that he can speak to a man who can be if he wishes father, and brother and wife to his soul. I don’t think you will laugh, Walt Whitman, nor despise me, but at all events I thank you for all the love and sympathy you have given me in common with my kind." -- WIFE TO HIS SOUL. IN COMMON WITH MY KIND. And people want to call THIS man a homophobe??????????

"I only hope we may sometime meet and I shall be able perhaps to say what I cannot write." -- Something he wants to say that can't be put to paper where it could someday be used as evidence in a trial against him as homosexuality was in fact punishable by law?

"If you are the man I take you to be you will like to get this letter. If you are not I don’t care whether you like it or not and only ask that you put it into the fire without reading any farther." -- "If you're also queer, please read; if not, please burn this and never speak of it again."

"If I were before your face I would like to shake hands with you, for I feel that I would like you. I would like to call YOU Comrade and to talk to you as men who are not poets do not often talk. I think that at first a man would be ashamed, for a man cannot in a moment break the habit of comparative reticence that has become second nature to him; but I know I would not long be ashamed to be natural before you. You are a true man, and I would like to be one myself, and so I would be towards you as a brother and as a pupil to his master." -- I genuinely don't have words for how sweet this is. Being near him would make him feel UNASHAMED???

"You have shaken off the shackles and your wings are free. I have the shackles on my shoulders still — but I have no wings." -- Have you ever seen a more "I long to be out like you, but I can't leave the closet" than this???

"I will only hope that sometime I may meet you face to face and perhaps shake hands with you. If I ever do it will be one of the greatest pleasures of my life." -- Do I even need to explain this one? I mean WOW

"One of them had your book (Rossetti’s edition) and was reading aloud some passages at which both laughed. They chose only those passages which are most foreign to British ears and made fun of them. Something struck me that I had judged you hastily. I took home the volume and read far into the night. Since then I have to thank you for many happy hours, for I have read your poems with my door locked late at night and I have read them on the seashore where I could look all round me and see no more sign of human life than the ships out at sea: and here I often found myself waking up from a reverie with the book open before me. I love all poetry, and high generous thoughts make the tears rush to my eyes, but sometimes a word or a phrase of yours takes me away from the world around me and places me in an ideal land surrounded by realities more than any poem I ever read." -- A bit of a longer quote this time to point out as I noted above, they were laughing because it seemed gay. He heard a small selection and it pinged on his gaydar and he READ IT WITH HIS DOOR LOCKED (for privacy? for reading POETRY???). WELL INTO THE NIGHT. Also the sweetness of queer poetry as escapism is just a delight.

"But be assured of this Walt Whitman — that a man of less than half your own age, reared a conservative in a conservative country, and who has always heard your name cried down by the great mass of people who mention it, here felt his heart leap towards you across the Atlantic and his soul swelling at the words or rather the thoughts." -- Again, is there anything more uniquely queer and closeted about this feeling???

"I have been more candid with you — have said more about myself to you than I have said to anyone before. You will not be angry with me if you have read so far. You will not laugh at me for writing this to you." -- This is just so fucking sweet.

There's more in the link, but these were the most obvious quotes for our purposes today. And seriously, please look into his relationship with Henry Irving because like "and they were business partners" lol Stoker's marriage was absolutely a way to cover up his actual relationship with Irving (who left his wife in favor of his work as an actor a few years before they met).

Also, worth noting: The description of Dracula very strongly resembles pictures we have of Walt Whitman as an older man. Very possibly the personality comes from Henry Irving. Just... food for thought.

#Daily Dracula #Bram Stoker #my meta #I just cannot stand seeing this character assassination #Anyway uh seriously #The man was queer to his core #And horror was the only way to write the romance he wanted to without being ARRESTED FOR HOMOSEXUALITY #It's the same as the pulp lesbian tragedies guys #it is the EXACT SAME THING

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smutsonian · 4 years ago

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Baby if you're taking requests can you do a slight darkish! Step daddy Ransom x naive!reader with daddy kink and innocence kink? The marriage was kinda a deal for money and like reader's mother died after marrying him due to some disease or accident and that has left her alone in Ransom's custody. Feel free to use any other kinks or things you like,also if you don't feel comfortable with any of the above mentioned kinks then you don't have to use them.❤️ I love you and your writings!!!😘

getting his little angel

ransom drysdale x reader

warnings: soft!dark!ransom drysdale, innocent!reader, dub-con/non-con, smut, stepdaddy!ransom, loss of virginity (i cringe), fingering, daddy kink, innocence kink, guided handjob, like one slap in the p, manipulation?, obsession, size kink?, creampie, corruption, ransom’s fucked up mind, age gap(reader is of age), death, the amount of the word angel and daddy used in this fic is annoying and cringe for me, this is dark and twisted so proceed with caution if you choose to proceed, don’t read if you aint fvcking with this type of sh*t

word count: 4105

an: THANK YOU NONNIE AND I LOVEYOU!!///i keep begging my friend to read the stories i write for validation and we are both getting tired of me writing the word daddy and me showing how obsessed i am with ddlg wtf anywayy... have fun with this one 😩 alsoo, gif aint mine

masterlist

Ransom married the woman for the sake of her money but he never thought of her daughter to be the treasure he’ll truly get from the woman. The daughter isn’t like every other young adult he’s ever met or bedded with. The daughter of the woman he married is different. Not a vicious little bitch like his cousin, Meg. No… The girl is different. An innocent pure little soul just living with him, there for the taking. A little angel that will give him joy and luck in his life.

And just his luck, and as evil as it sounds, he got blessed when his wife started to become sick just after a few months into their marriage. His wife becoming ill became the reason for him to bond with his little angel so he can comfort her and he became the man she found solace in. She started trusting him.

And then the wife died, leaving Ransom with all her treasure. Including Y/N Y/L/N. The greatest treasure that he will ever have. He had to thank his wife for leaving you to him. For leaving you broken-hearted because he had no problem with taking care of you and helping you stand right back up on your feet. He wanted to do all that. He wanted you to believe that he’s the only person that you will ever need in your life.

His little angel.

It took a few months for you to stop sobbing every single night in Ransom’s chest as he cuddled you to sleep and another few months until the bundle of joy you were before started showing itself again.

The moment you laughed at Ransom’s jokes for the first time had him frozen in place as he watched your teeth shining as the corners of your lips curled up into a toothy grin. Ransom was captivated. He was captivated at the sight of you laughing genuinely for the first time after your mother’s death and he wanted to take a photo and frame it so he can look at it every single night before he falls asleep and every single morning when he wakes up. He wants to see your smiling face every time he wakes and before he falls asleep, knowing that he’s the reason for that enchanting smile.

“Is something wrong?” Your small voice brings Ransom back to reality and he realized that you have stopped laughing, the beautiful smile on your face replaced by a frowning confused one instead.

Ransom ignored your question, walking towards you and trapping you against the kitchen counter. He wears a smirk before using his big hands to brush your hair smoothly, the coldness of the ring on his pinky finger brushing against your cheek gently. Ransom bites his bottom lip as he looks at your innocent eyes staring right back at him, your head tilted up so you can see his face clearly.

One hand moves to your chin and his thumb brushes your bottom lip, softly rubbing on it while Ransom’s mind went somewhere else where your mouth is wrapped around his cock as you sport your usual innocent look, asking him for help on how to pleasure him. Daddy’s little angel.

Ransom pulled his hand away from your face before silently groaning at how his slacks became tighter as his crotch started getting hard at the thought of your mouth around his cock.

“You know you look so pretty when you laugh.” He sighs out before patting you on the head and walking towards the door before stopping and turning back to look at you palming your own cheeks as you wear a small smile. His heart skips a beat for a second before he nods at you.

“I like seeing you smile, angel. I wish you would do it more often. It’ll make this old man happier.” He wiggles an eyebrow at you before chuckling at the sight of you laughing once more.

“There it iss” He smiles at your shaking form, wondering what you would look like if you were shaking for other reasons…

“You’re not that old, Ransom!” You say in between your laughs and Ransom couldn’t remove the grin on his face as he watches you laugh at him.

“Oh you’re laughing at me, are you?” Ransom quirks an eyebrow and watches you as you stop laughing, looking at him with a faux frightened look before he started running after you, eyes ringing in delight when you squeaked against his hold when he caught you, his fingers poking on your sides with no mercy.

“No! No more!” You gasp for air as you continue to laugh.

“R-Ransom!” You whined and just like the few other times, Ransom’s mind went into a gutter. Would this be how you sound when you’re moaning his name while he pleasures you?

Ransom pulls his hand away from you before letting out a breathy laugh. “Alright, angel… See that smile is so adorable on you!” He pinches both of your cheeks before laughing at the way you glared at him.

“No more tickles, Ransom. That hurts my sides.” You groaned before walking away from him only to be stopped by him pulling you back against his chest. His chin was on the top of your head before he mumbled an apology. “I’m sorry, angel. I wouldn’t do it again. Don’t be mad at your daddy now.” You pull away from him, watching him pout at you. You curiously raise an eyebrow before shaking your head with a laugh. “It’s okay.” You grin before grumbling when he messes the top of your head with his huge hand.

Ransom didn’t miss the way your face contorted into a confused look when he tried to get you to call him daddy. He’s been there for you a long time now. It’s time for you to be there for him as well. And Ransom is a really needy man with a lot of need when it comes to you.

No worries.

He’ll make sure to teach you everything you have to know to be his perfect little angel.

Ransom was sat on one of the lavish chairs that your mother used to obsess about when she was still alive while he’s munching on some biscuits that he got from the pantry. He silently thanks the old lady who still does the groceries for the both of you. He stares back at the screen that’s currently playing one of those rom-coms that he always found ridiculous but entertaining.

Lost in his own thoughts, Ransom absentmindedly looks at the hallway that leads towards the kitchen only to see you skipping into the kitchen in a pair of leggings and a sweater that he gave you as a gift. He smiled at the thought of you wearing his sweater instead. Preferably after he’s done giving you an intense orgasm.

Feeling a bit hotter, Ransom removes his coat, leaving him in his soft white sweater. He lets out a grunt, fixing himself on the sofa and turning back towards the flat-screen tv. His hand wanders down to his pants, palming himself through his slacks while his other hand reaches for another biscuit.

Ransom’s heart jumped when you suddenly plopped yourself down on the sofa, legs on top of his thighs while the hand that was palming himself flies towards the air before landing on your legs.

“HEY, those are my favorite!” You point towards the biscuit that he was currently munching on. Ransom’s jaw clenches at the discomfort in his pants while your legs brush against his raging hard on. There’s no doubt that you have no idea what you’re doing to him or what your legs are currently brushing up against.

“Can I have some?” You give him a pleading look that only made his cock harder. He bites his lip as he squeezes your legs. “You gotta ask nicely, angel…”

“Can I please have some?” You repeat, voice as sweet as honey and the cause of the precum that slowly slicks the slit of Ransom’s thick girth.

Ransom lets out a groan before snatching a piece of biscuit and moving it towards your mouth, snatching it back when you went to take it from him.

“Ah-ah-ah. We’ve been together for a long time now… Is that right, my little angel?” Ransom laughs at your frown before you’re nodding at him curiously.

“I think it’s time that you call me daddy, right? I mean… I’ve been taking care of you, right? I’ve been treating you with so much love, is that right?” Ransom lets out a moan shamelessly at the sight of your innocent face nodding at him unknowingly. “You’ve been treating me very well…” You mumble under your breath but Ransom still heard you.

“Yeah… I’ve been treating you like my best girl. Like the best girl you are.” He brushes his pinky across your cheeks before pressing the piece of biscuit onto your bottom lip. He gave you a stern look before shaking his head when you went to open your mouth.

“You gotta ask nicely, angel… Who are you asking and what are you asking for hmm?” He leaned down towards the side of your face to sniff on your hair, chest grumbling in delight at your scent.

“Can I please have a biscuit, daddy?”

Ransom inhaled obnoxiously loud before smirking while nodding his head at you. “Such a polite little angel, aren’t you? Of course you can… Here, open that precious mouth.” He taps the biscuit on your bottom lip, shoving it gently inside your mouth, purposely grazing his fingers down your tongue. He watches you chew on the biscuit as you stared right back at him with those innocent eyes. His fingers massaged your chin as you chew, shoving them right back inside your mouth when he sees you swallow the biscuit.

“Is it good?” He asks you, fingers assaulting the inside of your mouth. You nod your head, hands grasping the wrist that’s connected to the fingers in your mouth. Ransom felt you tugging his hand away but he only shoved his fingers further down your mouth, slightly pulling away when you started gagging on his fingers.

He lets out a chuckle before pulling his fingers completely out of your mouth, admiring the string of saliva that connected from your lips to his fingers. “Daddy has a lot of things to teach you…” He leans back before manipulating your body until your back was against his chest and your legs were spread apart by his own legs.

He takes another biscuit before shoving it into your mouth, fingers gripping your jaw as you chewed on the food, crumbs staining the sides of your mouth. “Just like that” He grumbles against your hair before skillfully tugging your leggings and underwear down until they were all the way down to your ankles. He didn’t give you enough to complain because his fingers were back inside your mouth, playing with your tongue and playfully teasing the back of your throat.

“Breathe through your nose, angel. Relax for daddy.” He whispers in your ear while his free hand caresses your face. “There ya go… Such a fast learner, aren’t ya?” He lets out a laugh before kissing your cheek and removing his fingers from your mouth. “You get a reward for being such a good girl”

Ransom’s wet fingers goes straight to your crotch while his other arm wraps itself around your torso to pull you closer to his body. His legs kept your thighs open so it was easy for him to tease the nub on your crotch.

“R-ransom…”

You let out a loud squeak when he slaps your pussy, legs shaking against his legs while he clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“What’d I tell you to call me hmm? Come on, I know you’re a smart little angel.” He resumes playing with your clit, enjoying how responsive your body is to his touch.

“Nggghh” You squirm against his hold, chest heaving as she struggled to control her breathing. Ransom is willing to bet your mother’s fortune that you never experienced this type of feeling before. “Tell me what you’re feeling, angel”, he starts flicking his fingers faster until your crying desperately and hiding your face against his arm. He stops assaulting your clit, hands finding its way to your face to comfort you with smooth caresses. Ransom admires the sweat that started to form on your forehead and decides to remove the sweater you’re wearing.

Too out of it, you let him fully undress you, too tired and dazed to acknowledge the fact that you’re lying naked on your guardian’s chest. “That feel good?” Ransom asks, urging you to speak to him but loving the way that you laid limp against his chest. Oh it’s so easy to please his little angel. He hasn’t even made you cum yet.

“F-feels good…” Ransom watches you bite your bottom lip, his hold against you getting tighter as his cock gets harder at the sight of you.

“I can make you feel better than that, angel… You just gotta ask nicely. Just like how you asked for the biscuits. Do you want daddy to make you feel good?” His hand find itself back to your pussy, fingers starting its attack on your sensitive clit once more. He wasted no time in trying to get you off because in no time, he feels your body shaking against his and he knows that you’re close.

“You gotta ask for it nicely, angel… Tell daddy what you want” Ransom demands, the arm that was wrapped around your torso finds its way towards your breasts, massaging one and pinching the hard nipple. You whine out loud before gasping for air as you tried to speak coherent words.

“Daddy can y-you p-please…”

Ransom chuckles at your lack of words. Of course his little angel wouldn’t know what to ask for.

“You want daddy to make you cum?” He suggests, knowing that his smart angel would get what he wants her to do.

“D-daddy, can you please m-make me cum?” You repeat, words hoarse but understandable by a proud Ransom who starts rubbing your wet clit faster as he bends his head down to suck on the tit his massaging.

“HHNNNNGGG!” You whine loudly, going stiff against Ransom’s hold before shaking tremendously as you reach your very first orgasm. Ransom’s hips thrust against your back as he gets needy from the sounds you’re making and the sight of your body trembling against his. He starts running his hands all over your body, whispering praises against your ears to comfort you.

“Such an angel…” He kisses the side of your face before guiding your body gently back to the sofa so you’re sitting beside him. “That feel good?” He asks, licking and sucking on the fingers he used to make you cum.

“Mhhmm…” You nod as you mumbled your answer, too embarrassed in front of him. “Don’t be shy, angel… You’re just being a good girl. Wanna know why I made you feel good?” Ransom waits for you to nod before continuing with a smile.

“Because you were such a good girl!” He nudges your chin with his fingers before placing his large palms on your shoulders. “And good girls always get rewards from their daddies. What do you say huh? Wanna be a good girl and help daddy with his problem?” He palms his covered crotch before smirking at your wondering eyes that’s looking down at his bulge. His jaw clenches at the sight of your curious face.

“H-how can I h-help?” Ransom chuckles at your nervousness before taking hold of your hand and guiding it towards his bulge. He watches your face as he makes you palm his hard on, thrusting against your touch in neediness and groaning at your tongue wetting your own lips.

Ransom releases your hand before tugging his slacks down and taking them off before sitting back on the sofa and taking your hand once more, wrapping your fingers around his thick shaft and moaning loudly at the pleasure you’re currently giving him. “That’s it angel… Ahh fuck!” He guides your hand into a faster stroke, wrapping your fingers around his cock tighter as he thrusts his hips against your hand, groaning loudly and shouting praises towards you. “Such a fucking good girl!” His eyes shut tightly as he feels himself getting closer.

“Fuck!” He hisses, abruptly pulling your hand away from his cock, chest heaving as he tries to slow down his breathing. “You almost made me cum” He mutters, laughing silently when you started to mumble out apologies.

“No, my little angel. That’s not a bad thing… I just want to cum somewhere else…” Ransom bites his lip before removing his white sweater and tossing it on the floor. In a heartbeat, he’s on top of you, fingers running all over your body in a comforting manner.

“You want your reward, sweetie?” Ransom asks with a teasing tone. “You’ve been such a good girl. I think it’s time for another reward.”

Your eyes widen in shock when you feel his lips against yours, gasping when his tongue started to poke its way through your lips before assaulting the inside of your mouth like his fingers did earlier.

Ransom’s mind started ringing when you started moaning and whimpering against his lips. Oh he’ll make his little angel feel so good. He’ll make you feel so full.

He managed to situate himself in between your legs while continuing the sloppy and needy kiss you two were having. He strokes his already painfully hard cock with one hand before sliding it against your folds to lube himself up with your juices.

He pulls away from the kiss as he lines his cock against your slit, smiling at the way that your legs shake when he bumps your sensitive clit with the hard head of his cock.

Ransom’s smile falters slightly when your hands start to push on his chest. “I-I’m scared”, your voice trembles as you try to push him which is really useless because his huge frame doesn’t move an inch.

Ransom takes both of your hands with one of his huge ones before trapping them above your head and diving down to capture your lips into another hungry kiss. “Don’t be scared. I promise to make you feel so good”, he says through the kisses, licking your tears away before resuming his wet kisses on your mouth. “You want me to make you feel so good, right angel?” Ransom smiles through the kiss as he feels your hesitant nod.

Ransom holds your hands tightly with one hand while the other hold caresses the side of your face in a comforting manner as he shoves his hard and thick cock into your tight hole, swallowing your cries with his hungry kisses. The hand that was caressing your face wipes your tears away as he shushes you. “It’s going to feel so good in a bit angel. I promise.” He stays inside your cunt for a while, making you feel weird at the fullness that his cock is giving your untouched pussy.

When Ransom feels your hips bucking up against his, he smiles and looks down at you with bright eyes. “You okay now? Want me to move?” Ransom gets an eager nod as a response and he only let out a short laugh before starting to pull out and shoving back into your tight cunt with a loud grunt. “So. Fucking. Tight.”, he hisses with each thrust.

“Mmmf. Mmm. Oomph.” Your moans and whines start to get louder as Ransom’s thrusts get sloppier because of the wetness that your cunt continues to produce. “Oh fuck you’re so wet for me angel”, Ransom watches his cock pound into you and he almost cums at the sight but he’s determined to make his little angel cum again before he could spill himself inside of her pretty pussy.

Ransom lets out a grunt before easily manipulating both of your bodies so you were straddling him, his cock still deep inside your cunt.

He places your hands on his shoulders for support before moving his hands on your hips, guiding you up and down his cock. “I’ll teach you how to ride daddy like a good girl soon but--”, he lifts you up and makes you stay in that position before moving one hand closer to your cunt so his thumb can start playing with your clit again. “—but for now, I’ll just ram into this tight pretty pussy”. Your eyes slams shut and your head falls on his shoulder when he thrusts his hips up in strong stroke, hands gripping you tightly as he guides your body against his, skin slapping each other as he pounds your pussy from under you.

He uses his other hand to push your shoulder away from him so he can see you clearly. “NGHH AH s-soo good!” Ransom watches you bounce on his cock while your eyes opened to look at him with those innocent eyes. How can you still look so innocent while he’s under you, making you take his cock as a fucking whore would.

“D-daddy s-so good”, your face is in a daze as Ransom doubled his efforts seeing you so close and feeling himself getting close as well. “Daddy making you feel good hmm?” He slams and slams his cock into you with vigor that it would probably leave you with a sore pussy for a few days.

Your shoulder starts quivering and Ransom feels you trying to stop him from bouncing you on his cock but he ignored it and continued to control your body. He slams his cock into your cunt a few more times, thumb rubbing your clit faster until you’re crying out loud as another orgasm hits you.

Ransom watches your eyes rolling back and your mouth opening as loud moans escape your mouth. He leans forwards to capture your lips once more before giving you a few more thrusts until he feels his balls tightening and snapping as spurts of cum come out of him and into your wet hole.

He lets your body fall on him as he wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back comfortingly and rocking you slightly that earns a whimper from you when he accidentally moves his cock that’s still inside of you.

He waits for the both of you to catch your breath before gently pulling his cock out of you and bending down to snatch his sweater off the floor.

He looks back at your face, your eyes fluttering as tiredness starts to envelop your body. He puts his sweater on you, smiling at how you look in his sweater. You look so much better in his sweater. And you look so beautiful with his cum dripping out of your cunt and face glowing at how he fucked you so good.

He leans down to press a kiss on your forehead then your lips. “You okay angel?” He laughs at you when you only nod sleepily at him. He picks his slacks up from the ground before putting it on and then he picks up your old sweater and uses it to clean you up, gently wiping his cum off your thighs.

He stands back up to admire you, so beautifully fucked. He’ll forever remember the way your pussy pulsed around his cock as he cums inside of you.

He lets out a dreamy sigh before picking your sleepy body up and walking towards the hallway, passing by your old room and into his room. Your room.

He lays you down on the bed as gently as he could before smiling when your face contorts into a frown when you groggily look at him. “How are you feeling angel?”

“G-good but tired.” Your quiet voice touches Ransom’s heart and he could only take a blanket before laying down beside you and tucking the both of you in. He presses a kiss on the side of your head before whispering a “sleep tight, my little angel.”

Ransom was about to close his eyes when he hears your voice again, making his heart leap out of his chest.

“I like being daddy’s good girl.”

Oh Ransom loves that too and he has a feeling that his little angel will continue to become his pretty little good girl so she’ll get all the rewards she can get.

And Ransom is willing to give you all the rewards he can give because you’re his one and only good little angel.

-------

an: no eating out or gobbling on the d cuz come onn... they were just eating those damn biscuits 🤧

taglist

General: @readermia @unlikelygalaxygiver @xoxabs88xox @anncutamarica @chaoticfiretaconerd @i-love-superhero @caffiend-queen @coconutqueen21 @jtargaryen18 @jennmurawski13 @mushyjellybeans @ninjabucky @evnscvll @buckstaybucky @donutloverxo @rebloggingeverything @adriannajackson Anything Chris: @patzammit @princess-evans-addict @shadowcatsworld @notyourtypicalrose @onetwo3000

this fic: @kyrarose16 @tokoyamisstuff

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale/reader #ransom drysdale x #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale imagine #dark fic #dark!fic #dark!ransom drysdale #innocent!reader #innocent reader #daddy!ransom #innocence kink

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britishassistant · 4 years ago

Note

Supervillain AU! I formally request the special addition of Yuu’s first kidnapping please.

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

“Yoo-hoo, Reporter-chan? Wakey-wakey, it’ll be bad for you if you don’t get up soon~”

Yuu shakes their head groggily, the sing-songy voice not helping the pounding in their temple.

“Did someone get the number of the truck that hit me?” They mumble, blinking to try and get their eyes to focus.

“Dammit Deuce, you gave them brain damage.” A familiar, much more annoyed sounding voice said. “Their head’s gonna be all screwy and useless now, dumbass.”

“It was just a lovetap though!” A third voice, also familiar, protested.

The floor finally stopped moving in front of their eyes and Yuu realized some very important things.

One, the floor they were staring at was not the floor of the library where they last remembered being.

Two: Their arms and legs seemed to be tied tight to the arms and legs of an iron garden chair.

Three: There are many odd-looking people standing near them, all in clothes that are too coordinated not to be a uniform but too outlandish to represent a government group of some kind.

Oh Great Seven, Yuu thinks with a rising sort of hysteria. It’s finally happened.

Clowns have come to take me away for not brushing my teeth enough like Mom said when I was little.

“...Are ya sure you didn’t break ‘em?”

“...”

“Deuce.”

Yuu wonders if they should feel offended at being talked around like this.

“Enough of this nonsense!” A hand seizes Yuu’s chin and pulls their head up to face the latest speaker. An imperious-looking young man stands and walks towards the reporter, clicking his fingers. “Three of Clovers.”

A tall man in glasses hands the imperious young man what Yuu recognizes as their wallet. The shorter man glances at the contents disdainfully. “You. First and last name and age, now.”

“Y-Yuu Radcliffe, 23 years.” The reporter stutters, their initial hysteria morphing into a sinking feeling in their gut. If not the clowns, then... “Can I ask who I have the pleasure of talking to?”

“No.” The redhead holding their wallet snaps. “Current occupation and birthday?”

“Field reporter at TWST local news.” They force themselves to relax the fists their hands have balled into. “March 18th.”

Remember what Uncle Divvy always says. Stay calm, act cooperative, do or say whatever you need to to avoid injury. Any supervillains on this level trying to curry favor with or blackmail the dumb bird will have to go through Uncle Divvy first to contact him, and he’ll take care of the rest.

All Yuu needs to do is keep themselves alive until then.

They still can’t help but dread what they know is coming next.

The supervillain seems to notice their distress, and smirks cruelly. He takes his time walking forward and leaning down until he’s on the reporter’s eye level, hands resting on the back of the chair and eyes flicking over their face, almost as if he’s savoring the moment before he makes their life that much more painful.

Yuu braces themselves as he opens his mouth–!

“What is the best type of tea?”

Huh?

“Wait, what? I don’t—” Yuu asks, backpedalling as the supervillain’s face grows stormy at their lack of response. “Uuh...green tea? I guess? I mean, it’s the one I like the most, but I’m more of a coffee or hot cocoa person, so I’m not the best one to ask...”

The person holding their chin sucks in through their teeth and the annoyed familiar voice outside their periphary snickers “Oooh, busted~”

The supervillain is beginning to go as red as his hair, and the reporter can hear his teeth grinding. His hands are now gripping the back of the chair so tight Yuu would almost swear they hear the metal by their ears creak.

“Ri–Royal.” The man with glasses says.

The supervillain inhales and exhales almost violently, until what’s visible of his face under that mask is looking less flushed.

“The correct answer,” He says, voice trembling with emotion. “Was all teas at their due times. To drink green tea instead of rosehip at breakfast, or lemon tea at 8pm...the nerve of your arrogance is astounding!”

Yuu...genuinely isn’t sure how they’re supposed to respond to that. Instead they just go with, “I’m sorry, I’ve never had rosehip or lemon tea. Do you like them?”

“Do I—?!” The supervillain’s mouth works soundlessly, gradually going red again. He pushes off the chair sharply. “I—the ro—i-it’s not a matter of liking!! These are the Rules!! And the Rules must be obeyed!! Three of Clovers!”

“Yes, Royal Flush?” The glasses man asks.

“The reporter is forbidden from having any montblanc after dinner, and will take two cups of lemon tea at 8pm tonight and two cups of rosehip tomorrow at breakfast.” Royal Flush flashes them a cruel smirk. “Consider it a light punishment for your impertinence.”

Yuu blinks. Tries to make sense of what they’ve just heard.

Blinks again.

“You know if you just wanted to ask me out to dinner, I’d have taken a nice invitation or a bouquet. You didn’t need to knock me out and tie me up like this, I’m not that picky. I do have Tinder.”

Glasses guy makes a choking noise and erupts into a coughing fit.

The hand that’s been holding Yuu’s chin migrates to their shoulder for support as its owner lets out an undignified snort and gasps out something that sounds vaguely like “why wasn’t I recording, that was Magicam gold!” as he giggles. He’s a redhead too, but much more orange than his boss.

There’s a sputter of hysterical laughter that has Yuu twisting their head to see the two guys and the cat from the hydroelectric plant, both with these odd-looking metal collars around their necks, but otherwise unharmed. The talking cat is trussed up in so many ropes that it looks more like a bobblehead, also wearing a weird collar.

The third redheaded one is bracing his hands on his knees, wheezing out a litany of “holy shit, holy shit” between chortles. The dark haired one is holding the cat a confused expression, cutting off his friend’s laughter when he turns to ask, “Ace, what’s tinder?”

The momentary silence lets an odd squeaking noise be heard.

One that gradually grows in volume until it’s an outright screech coming from the supervillain in front of them. He’s so red Yuu is honestly worried about his blood pressure, pointing a shaking finger at them.

“I—YOU—YOU—OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!!”

Yuu chokes a little at the feeling of cold metal materializing around their neck, dragging their head down with its weight. The supervillain continues screeching, refusing to even look at the reporter. “YOU—! DUNGEON! RIGHT NOW!! NO DESSERTS!! GO!!”

There’s an awkward moment as Royal Flush turns away from them, as if expecting them to get up and walk out of their own accord while his back is to them.

“...So, does that mean you want them to untie me or something, or...?” Yuu wiggles their firmly bound hands and feet for emphasis.

The supervillian makes a sound like a kettle whistling, before he barks out. “Two of Spades! Ace of Hearts! GET them OUT OF MY SIGHT until they’re WILLING to COOPERATE!!”

The dark haired young man quickly shuffles forward, grabs the back of the chair, and drags it and the poor reporter attached to it out of the room and into the corridor. The metal screeches as it moves from carpet to concrete.

“Wh—Two, no, untie them first.” The man with glasses says, despairing, appearing in the doorway. “You’ll mark up the floor otherwise.”

“Ah! Sorry, senpai!” Two looks between the cat in his arms and the knots on the chair, before shoving the cat into the arms of the redhead who answers to “Ace”. Neither of them look happy with this development.

“Fgnah! Quit squeezing, ya jerk!” The cat protests, wriggling as best it can.

“Oh? What’s that? I’m sorry, I just need to make sure that greatest, lamest supervillain in the city doesn’t escape to go setting random crap in the lair on fire again.” Ace says sweetly, grip tightening.

“Tha’s your fault, an’ you know it!” The cat wheezes out, thrashing harder.

Yuu winces. “Hey, quit hurting him. Whatever he did, he doesn’t deserve this.”

The dark haired minion barks out a laugh as he tugs the ropes away from their right wrist while his redheaded counterpart sneers at them.

“Oh really? Bet you’ll change your tune real quick once you learn it’s thanks to him you’re here in the first place.” Ace of Hearts mocks. “Dumb monster sang like a damn canary when Royal pressured him a tiiiny bit, saying it was all your fault his precious ingredient is now in the sewers.”

“Tha’s a lie!” The monster? cat blurts out too quickly for comfort. “It’s all these two morons, I swear!”

“Why you little—“

“I don’t care.” Yuu cuts in before Two of Spades can hit the animal. “I didn’t destroy that thing, but even if none of you said anything, your boss would’ve found out I was involved anyway from watching my report on it on the news. So I don’t care, just-just quit hurting him.”

There’s a tense moment as the two minions stare down at the reporter. They do their best to meet the gazes without flinching.

Then the Ace of Hearts tosses the cat into their lap as the Two of Spades sinks back down to keep working on their ankle. “Fine. Since you like it so much, you can take care of it. Just don’t expect me to cover for your ass—you still owe me for the power plant.”

“I’m sorry?” Yuu curls their free arm around the bundle of rope, fur, and yowling insults and pulls it closer to them. “Shouldn’t that be the other way round?”

“You locked me in a closet with him!” Ace hisses. “Do you know how hard it was to get out before the cops came with him freaking out and messing stuff up?!”

“Oi.” Two shoots him a dark look from where he’s finished untying the reporter’s left hand. “Like you weren’t whining about us being digested until you knocked a broom over!”

“Sh-shut up!”

“Well excuse me for trying to save your lives.” Yuu bites back, rubbing the rope marks on their wrists. “Next time I’ll just run and let the sludge monster eat your unconscious bodies.”

“It’d save us all the trouble of this shit if you did!” Ace spits, jabbing a finger at his collar. “At least then we wouldn’t be on Royal’s shit list!”

Yuu lets the piece of information they were just given marinate in their brain as they glare at him. Well, now what exactly was that supposed to mean?

“Ngh...this knot won’t come loose.” Two says from by the reporter’s left foot.

“How about now?” Replies an unfamiliar voice, as a disembodied hand pulls deftly at a loop in the rope.

“Ah!” Two of Spades brightens up as the rest of the rope falls away. “Thanks a lot—”

The disembodied hand punches him in the face.

Yuu cries out in alarm at the sight of the minion falling backwards into the Ace of Hearts, knocking him down like a bowling pin.

A pair of clawed hands are then scooping them up, extra cat and all, and the reporter finds themself looking at the unsettlingly wide smile and purple cat ears of one of the city’s top heroes, running at full speed while sharpened playing cards whizz past his face and Ace calls out behind them “Senpai! It’s him again!!”

There’s a percussive boom somewhere in the distance, and screams of how the flamingos are loose as the hero winks down at Yuu. “Seems you’re a popular one today, kitten! But let’s get you back to where you where before you were so rudely catnapped, yes?”

“Not so fast, hero!” The orange haired guy choruses from the entrance to the staircase, and—from behind them as well?

The reporter’s heart sinks as more and more versions of the minion keep popping up around them, to the point where the hero is forced to stand on the bannister of the balcony they’re on.

And based on the fact that the hero hasn’t used his invisibility? Intangibility? powers, it’s likely that he can’t use them while holding Yuu and the cat.

They’re surrounded.

“You really can’t keep your paws out of anything that’s mine, can you?” Royal Flush’s tone is clipped as he glares up at the hero.

“Hey R-kun, Three-kun!” The hero pouts, hugging Yuu closer to his chest. “I come a~ll this way to play, only to find you’ve got a nyew toy you’re already playing with without me! How mean! You guys really are cruel!!”

“We’re sorry about that.” Three of Clovers says, edging closer. “If you just hand the reporter over to Four, they’ll be put away and we can all “play” together, no distractions. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

The hero makes a deliberating noise, holding Yuu out and away from him over the drop, tilting his head this way and that.

His grin grows unsettlingly wider.

“Look, R-kun, Three-kun!” The hero calls out. “Nyo hands!”

Wait, what—

The hero’s body vanishes.

Yuu and the monster cat plummet screaming past the illogically winding staircases of the evil lair.

Yuu tries to angle their body so that the frantically crying cat will be shielded from the brunt of the fall—!

“NO!!”

There’s a sound like glass shattering, and a feeling of being enveloped in something soft, cold and buoyant. The two of them bounce a few times and land back on it more gently each time.

Yuu cracks open their eyes to see that they’re seated on a strange, red, jelly-like mass. The cat in their arms tentatively sniffs, and then lunges to take a bite out of their cushion before the reporter can stop him.

“Shtrawberry?” He says through a full mouth. “Tashtes good!”

The reporter grabs him before he can go for another bite, a little thrown by his speed now that collar isn’t weighing him down. But where did this thing come from–?

Yuu looks up.

Royal Flush is leaning dangerously far over the balcony countless flights of stairs above them, one arm outstretched down towards them.

They stare at each other for a moment.

Then clawed hands fasten around Yuu’s waist again with a cheery “Nyow wasn’t that fun?” and Royal Flush visibly tenses and begins screaming things after the escaping hero that are barely legible through his rage.

The hero deposits them both outside the TWST news station with their wallet and phone back in their pockets. He at least helps them untie the monster cat, who promptly declares he just let them protect him, and scarpers.

Of course the hero is gone too when Yuu turns back around, before they can ask him what the hell he was playing at, dropping them like that, was he insane?! If Royal Flush hadn’t interfered...

The reporter has to fight the urge to lose their lunch.

Their boss rushes out and envelopes them in a surprisingly powerful hug, the woman almost lifting the reporter off their feet as she babbles about whether or not Yuu needs a hospital after getting kidnapped by one of the seven major supervillains.

Yuuken is quick to join the embrace with a bear hug of his own. He pulls back, fingers prodding gently at Yuu’s bruised temple and declaring he’ll drive them to hospital to make sure they don’t have a concussion.

He graciously waits until they’re in the car to ask why Yuu smells so much of strawberries.

The reporter can only give a half answer, partly because they don’t want to worry him, and partly because they have another question of their own buzzing incessantly around their brain.

Why was Yuu kidnapped in the first place?

Royal Flush never even mentioned Crowley, despite all the chances he had to do so. Not even an oblique or confusing metaphor or code. Does that mean he’s ignorant of the connection between Yuu and the League?

But if that’s the case, it circles back around to the first question: why kidnap Yuu to begin with?

Somehow the reporter doubts it was to just ask their tea preferences or invite them to dinner.

Those minions referred to that monster as Royal Flush’s “precious ingredient”. Ingredient for what? Is there something that Royal Flush thinks they witnessed that’s integral to a scheme? Did they witness something and just not realize it’s significance?

Yuu’s reporter senses are screaming that there’s a deeper story to uncover here. Yuu’s common sense is screaming that investigating the dangerous plans of the supervillain they’ve just escaped from is a terrible idea.

Though he could have just...let them fall. But he didn’t. And won’t he just kidnap them again regardless?

...

This is a terrible idea.

But if Yuu’s common sense was stronger than their reporter senses, then they wouldn’t be in this city in the first place, would they?

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jayeray-hq · 4 years ago

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How He Shows You Affection: Suna Rintarou

This was a request, but I unfortunately had to delete the original post because it wasn’t showing up in the tags! I hope you see it though anon and thank you so much for requesting!

Post Time Skip/Manga Ending Spoilers!

Warnings: Just a little hint of implied NSFW but mostly fluff!

How He Shows You Affection Masterlist - Character Masterlist

Thank you as ever to the amazing and beautiful Tay @deathcab4daddy for not only beta-reading for me, but for helping me figure out these stupid tags 😭

He Takes Pictures of You

The familiar sound of a phone camera clicking had you blinking awake. You’d almost been asleep, but the sound had pulled you from the depths, and you blinked blearily up at your boyfriend. As per usual, he was the clear culprit, his phone out and pointed in your direction.

“Really, Sunarin?” you asked him, your voice rusty from sleep as you watched him pocket his phone, not a single sign of remorse on his features, “Right now?”

“You looked cute,” he told you with a shrug, completely and utterly unapologetic.

“I look like a mess,” you countered with a sigh, keeping your voice quiet so as to not wake the rest of the people on the bus.

EJP Raijin was surprisingly accommodating to their players’ significant others, and from the very beginning they had let you travel on the bus to their away games with Suna if you wanted to. You didn’t get to go nearly as often as you would’ve liked, if you had your way, you’d go to every single one, but unfortunately, you had your own work so the times you could go were rather rare.

However, for this particular match, you’d made sure to take time off in advance so you could attend. It wasn’t every day that your boyfriend got to play against one of his old senpai from high school, and despite being extremely laid back most of the time, you could tell that Suna had been really excited for it.

The game against Aran and the Tachibana Red Falcons had been a rather epic one, with the entirety of the old Inarizaki team in attendance for once. Even Atsumu had managed to be there, his own team having gifted him the day off so he could watch. In preparation you’d gone all out, wearing the official EJP Raijin jersey with Suna’s name and number on it, and doing up your hair and make-up, even though the yellow might not have been the best color on you.

It had been a lot of fun especially since you got to sit right up close with the rest of Inarizaki. However, now several hours after the game on the bus back, you were sure you looked a mess. No doubt the make-up you’d applied so meticulously was smeared across your face, and your hair in disarray. You were very sure you didn’t look anything close to cute, despite what your boyfriend said.

“Delete it?” you asked him plaintively, though your hopes weren’t very high.

From the beginning, Suna had made it clear that he thoroughly enjoyed taking pictures of you. Almost every time you’d turned around he’d had his phone out and pointed in your direction. It had been a bit disconcerting at first, but you’d slowly but surely gotten used to it.

A part of you thought that if Suna hadn’t decided to become a volleyball player he definitely would’ve become a photographer of some kind. He had a gift for it. The only problem was that he used said gift to capture everyone at their absolute worst. You were pretty sure he could make even the most photogenic person in the world look like complete and utter garbage.

The most annoying part of it was, he was perfectly capable of bringing out the best in everyone if he wanted to as well. He just chose not to. It could honestly be a bit infuriating at times, especially since you knew he had entire folders of you on his laptop looking completely and utterly hideous because he insisted it was hilarious and adorable.

As his girlfriend it was no surprise that you were the one he photographed the most, which you might’ve objected to except unlike with others he was very conscientious and considerate of your photos. He never posted anything to his social media that he knew you wouldn’t like, and never shared any of your embarrassing photos with anyone.

When you’d asked him about it once, he’d told you it was because he didn’t want to share those moments with anyone else. It was honestly almost cute, and would’ve been adorable if he hadn’t followed it up by teasing you. He’d gone on to show you all his favorites, which were quite frankly the most hideous pictures of yourself that you’d ever seen chuckling all the while and wondering aloud how such a cute person could take such ugly photos.

You might’ve objected, except unlike with others Suna also went out of his way to take pictures of you that were surprisingly lovely. At times, he managed to capture things that made you question if the person in them was even you with how good they looked. He always kept one of those photos as his lock screen, claiming he wanted to show off how beautiful you were. Seeing it never failed to make your heart swell with affection, even if he did set his contact picture of you to something completely hideous.

“Nope,” he told you as he tucked his phone away into his pocket, another no doubt awful picture of you added to his collection, “You know I don’t delete my pictures.”

You heaved a sigh at that knowing was true, he really didn’t ever delete anything. You quietly resigned yourself to it again, your feelings a mix of annoyed fondness for your boyfriend who insisted you were his greatest muse.

“Fine,” you agreed with a pout, “but no more tonight Rintarou. I want to sleep.”

“No promises,” he told you with an amused chuckle, making you huff at him unhappily, “It’s your own fault for being so cute.”

You rolled your eyes at that, but did allow him to pull you into his side so the two of you were resting comfortably together, snuggled up as close as the seats would allow. His warmth and your own exhaustion quickly began to pull you back under, and you began to nod off again. This time when the camera shutter sound went off you firmly ignored it, feeling a swell of exasperated fondness for your boyfriend who could never get enough.

He Seeks You Out

During your relationship with Suna, you’d thought more than once that he was actually more like a cat than a fox the way he liked to claim. You’d never say so to his face, because he’d no doubt find some way to turn it on you, but some of his actions really were positively cat-like.

If you told others, they would most likely say it was in the way he was so incredibly choosy about who he spent his time with, the way he liked to provoke people, and just generally be a jerk because it genuinely amused him. However, in your case it was actually in the way he sought you out, and then proceeded to drape himself all over you.

It didn’t seem to matter where you were or what you were doing, if the two of you were in the same vicinity, Suna eased his way into your presence and demanded your attention. At home if you were on the couch, reading a book, or watching TV, he’d lay his head in your lap and stare up at you until you started to pet him before turning his attention to his phone. If you were laying in bed, he’d lay himself on top of you, nearly always knocking the air from your lungs and absolutely refusing to move despite your protests. If you were sitting at your desk, he was behind you, bent over with his chest pressed to your back and his sharp chin resting either on top of your head or dug into your shoulder with his arms around you.

It wasn’t just at home either. Suna had never particularly cared about the opinions of others, and the fact that public displays of affection were looked down upon didn’t bother him one little bit. He was always coming up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and leaning as much of his weight on you as you could take, his face nuzzled insistently against your face or neck. It was more than a bit embarrassing at times, especially since he didn’t care who you were speaking to or if you were in the middle of something.

In addition, whenever he was cuddled up to you, he always wanted your hands on him, preferably in his hair. The man went practically limp with pleasure whenever you played with it, scratching your nails gently over his scalp. The only thing he really needed to do was start purring to complete the feline image you had of him.

The funny thing was that the minute he was cuddled up to you and sure that he was taking up your attention, was he then promptly dozed off. You weren’t quite sure why he was so insistent about sleeping draped all over you, but it was this more than anything that made you think he truly was feline at heart.

It was honestly kind of cute if you were honest with yourself, with as much of a jerk as he portrayed himself to be, you never would’ve guessed he was the clingy type. However, he really was, even if the way he went about it was a bit annoying, since he didn’t seem to care at all about what you were doing or if his clinging to you made things difficult.

The two of you had been teased more than once about the way Suna went out of his way to find you whenever he wanted a nap. He’d even referred to you as his personal pillow on more than one occasion, but you couldn’t bring yourself to object. You thought it was sweet, and enjoyed how incredibly physically affectionate he was. Especially since he never protested when you wanted to turn the tables and sleep on him, even if he did tease the hell out of you for it.

He really was a jerk sometimes, but he was your jerk, and you loved him, just the same way his insistent cuddling let you know just how very much he loved you.

He Shares His Blackmail with You

You glared at the blond setter who just looked back with a smarmy grin on his face, clearly entirely too pleased with himself. The twins could be annoying, but were usually fairly respectful when it came to you. Today however, for whatever reason, Atsumu had decided to go out of his way to tease you.

You were honestly trying to be a good sport about it, but he was frankly getting on your last nerve. You wanted nothing more than to do something that would knock him off his high horse, but had no clue what to do to make him back off. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue, as Kita was pretty good at keeping both twins under control at reunions like this, but unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to make it today. Aran probably would’ve tried to step in, but the man was a little preoccupied dealing with an incredibly drunk Akagi who was stirring up trouble.

Osamu might’ve helped you, but he was also finding Atsumu teasing you fairly amusing, and was simply watching on. You’d already tried appealing to him, but he’d insisted you didn’t get teased enough at gatherings like this, and it was only right that it be your turn. This, of course, left you with only one option, one you wouldn’t normally resort to, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Normally, one would think that your boyfriend should’ve been your first line of defense in situations like this. However, Suna was the kind of man who firmly believed you were more than capable of standing on your own two feet, and would only step in if you asked him to. If things were dire, or your feelings were actually being hurt, he’d do it with no hesitation, verbally eviscerating anyone who tried to mess with you.

However, in a situation like this, where you were simply being teased, and he was also amused by said teasing, the situation wasn’t nearly as clear cut. What you offered had to be worth more than the entertainment he was already getting, and judging by the amused smirk on his face he was incredibly amused.

“Rintarou,” you pleaded, giving him your best pout, “Help me?”

“What’s in it fer me?” he asked teasingly, as Atsumu sputtered at the tactic you’d chosen to use, claiming you were cheating.

“The love and affection of your beloved girlfriend?” you tried, batting your eyelids at him, making him chuckle in amusement.

“Nice try,” he told you, his pale citrine eyes gleaming with mirth, “But I’m goin’ to need somethin’ more than that.”

Your mind whirled, trying to figure out what you were and weren’t willing to offer him, based on how annoyed you were with Atsumu. The man himself wasn’t helping his case, guffawing at what he saw as a failed attempt and only riling you up further. You flipped through several ideas before settling on the perfect thing. Your lips curled into a smirk as you gave Atsumu a slow, triumphant smile that instantly had him shutting up, a wary look settling on his face.

“Oy, I don’t think I like that look in yer eyes,” Atsumu informed you, leaning back a bit, though you promptly ignored him, all of your attention on your boyfriend who was watching you with interest.

“Sunarin, if you help me with Atsumu I’ll let you do that thing you mentioned last weekend,” you coaxed, your words heavy with innuendo as you stared him down, “If you throw in Osamu too, I’ll even wear your favorites.”

“Done,” he agreed instantly, pulling out his phone and pulling up several blackmail photos as both twins squawked in the background, Osamu protesting being dragged into it. It was his own fault, he should’ve helped you when you asked.

“Since when do ya share that with anyone?!” Atsumu whined. His dignity completely shattered as he stared at his own phone in horror at the images that he’d just been tagged in that had appeared on his timeline, “Ya wouldn’t even give me any blackmail pictures, not even when I bribed ya. That’s unfair!”

“Suna’s sharing his blackmail collection?” Aran asked, coming over from where he’d finally finished wrangling Akagi, as Osamu let out a low groan of despair, “With who?”

“With her,” Atsumu told him, pointing at you dramatically, not that you cared a bit. Suna had come up behind you to drape over your back, his phone held in front of you, so you could pick the next few awful pictures of Atsumu to post online yourself.

“Huh, guess he really must be in love,” Aran mused mostly to himself, though you couldn’t help but agree.

Suna loved you, even if he did have odd ways of showing it at times. After all the couple that blackmails together, stays together.

#JayeRayReplies #JayeRayWrites #suna rintarou #suna rintarō #suna rintaro #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintaro scenarios #suna x reader #suna rinataro x reader #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintaro imagine #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarou fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyu imagines #haikyu fluff #how he shows you affection

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sirensmojo · 3 years ago

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"KINDRED",6 - Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, Plot(s), Tommy & Reader being bitches

Summary: You're a reconverted ex war-nurse and join forces with Thomas Shelby to cut the head of the Fascist serpent, Oswald Mosley.

Word Count: 4.8K

A/N: This is the end of the Serie guys... The next part is the epilogue. II Gina's family is totally OC & It's Tommy POV.

*Masterlist*

❰ Previous Chapter

“I dreamt about a black cat,” Tommy went to sit down next to you, he was so close to you that your shoulders were touching, to his greatest pleasure.

After Polly left him, he stayed in his office for what seemed to be hours. It was his thirst for whiskey that hurried him to leave the room, and after he wandered in Small Heath’s streets & pubs, he conceded to do what he wanted to do since Pol left his office, see Y/N.

She was now in front of him, intently looking into his blue iris while remaining silent, a sign that she was waiting for him to continue.

“Thought it was Michael,” he raised a brow, “You told me it was Gina.” He pointed to her with his hand that was holding his cup of whiskey.

“Now Polly resigned.” He scoffed to himself. He couldn’t believe it was true that she left the company. And the worst part was that she was leaving to be on his enemy's side, Michael’s.

“Resigned?” Y/N raised her brows, quite surprised by the revelation.

Tommy didn’t answer, too occupied looking at the void in front of him. The woman didn’t know the Shelby family for quite long, but they seemed close. It was hard for her to understand the actual situation, and it’s in her head that she was making the additions to fill in the blanks in Thomas’s speech.

“She joined with Michael?” She concluded fast enough to catch Tommy desperately looking at her. It wasn’t simple to read his face, but she was used to him now, and their intimacy made it easier for her to see that Tommy was truly hurt by the event.

Y/N was seated on her knees, turned toward the Peaky head with one elbow at the top of the sofa and her chin in her palm. Her free hand was fidgeting with the tassels of her dress.

It was what Tommy firstly saw when she got out of the car ten minutes ago.

They arrived at her manor at the same time, both of their vehicles facing the other. Tommy got one hand onto his gun that was in his shoulder holster under his suit and Y/N was holding a rifle she kept on the passenger seat.

It was only when they turned off the headlights and that their stare connected that their bodies relaxed, the tension being replaced by the desire to possess the other.

Once out of the car, Tom couldn’t look at anything else other than the dress the Y/E/C eyed woman was wearing, it was a form-hugging grey satin one that reached her knees with a split on one of her legs, revealing some more skin.

At each of her actions, the tassels would move to accompany her figure, which mesmerized Tommy who forgot the reason for his coming.

She lifted her hand to Tom’s arm, squeezing it gently to reassure him. She didn’t want to use words as she knew he didn’t admit to himself that he was hurt. Y/N remained silent a little more before an idea crossed her mind.

“There is going to be a meeting, Tommy. A last one.”

He exhaled deeply and lifted his stare to her, intrigued by the confidence in the woman’s voice. She knew what he was thinking and nodded to him, “A family meeting. I will take the lead. I know exactly where to hit.” Her fingers slide to Tom’s hand as she was brushing the tip of her fingers on his skin.

The blue-eyed man wasn’t saying anything, but unlike any other time, he wasn’t deep in thought, this time, he was trying to read Y/N’s face. He knew she was ready for anything and ready to do everything, but the question remaining was, what?

What did she have in mind this time?

“Did you free Gina?” Tom suddenly asks, with everything that was happening he almost forgot that Y/N abducted his cousin’s wife to get rid of the couple after they treated Tommy’s status in the company.

She shook her head, “I did not do such a thing,” she raised her eyebrows with excitement, “Do you want to know our plan?” She shifted position, straightening back on her knees with both her hands on her thighs.

Tommy knew her, when she was this excited it didn’t presage anything good, and by the fire burning behind her iris, he knew he was right. “Please.” He agreed.

“Michael Gray, Polly Gray, Mr Rice & me, in the family meeting.” A faint smile appeared at the corner of her lips, distracting him a minute from what she just said.

“Mr Rice?” He squinted his eyes, frowning.

“Gina’s father.” The woman began as she poured some liquor into her cup, “He is here, in Birmingham, I’ve met with him today actually.” She sipped on her drink as if everything she was saying was normal.

But the more she was speaking and the more Tom’s brain got filled with questions, and when he was about to open his mouth, Y/N spoke again, well aware that Tommy didn’t understand.

“Remember when I told you that Gina was working with her uncle? Well, her father used to work with his own brother when younger, but he settled down when he met God. So I just twisted his mind into thinking his brother is using his daughter to get to him and... boom. We got another ally.”

“How come you know so much about her family?”

“It’s called socializing, Thomas, you should try it from time to time. When you use the money to get information, I use my pretty eyes.” She winked at him.

He snickered at her remark, did she just criticize his way of dealing with things? No. She proved more than once her benevolence towards Tommy and his business. “So, why do you want my enemies in a family meeting?” The man emphasized the last words to highlight how absurd Y/N’s idea seemed.

“To show ‘em our hand, we got all the cards right there, Tom.” She opened the man’s hand and patted at his palm with her index.

It was still quite peculiar for him to admit that Y/N handled difficult situations ridiculously well, and even more, to admit that she was indeed helping him.

Tommy wasn’t the type to let people get into his business because he was the only one to know how things needed to be handled, but since he met her, she hadn’t done one thing wrong.

She always had the right answers to threats, she always made the right moves, and even if he wouldn’t fully admit it to himself, he wanted to trust her. Even if he was well aware that she wasn’t telling him everything. He respected that, only because her resilience to fight for his business and himself was genuine.

Maybe Polly got it right the other night at the Garrison, he might be loving her.

“What do you say?” The woman’s voice got him out of his thoughts.

“Hmm?”

She chuckled and shifted her position to be closer to him when realizing he wasn’t even listening to her, “Why that serious face?” she asked as the tips of her fingers encountered Tom’s cheek tenderly.

The man didn’t move a bit, paralyzed by the thousands of sparkles running down his spine. He wasn’t used to her being that soft with him, and at the same time, he never wanted to get used to this, from the way her lips were stretched into a smile to the sweet gleam animating her eyes.

“You went out tonight?” He dismissed her previous question. She didn’t need to know that even when being with her he was still thinking about her.

The thing between them was still as fresh as spring wind and he was so used to seeing her being all strategic and untamed, that seeing her smiling and giggling with him ignited something in him.

“It's a women’s night,” She leaned toward him and pecked his lips before getting up. His fingers that were drawing circles on her thigh slid to her hand and she squeezed it before pulling on it, “the night’s still young. Come ‘ere, Sergeant Major.” She mentioned to him as starting to move her hips.

Tommy’s eyes weren’t leaving her figure, he didn't even blink, too afraid she would vanish. Seeing that she was inviting him to join her, he gave her a faint smile.

(...)

Y/N pushed the Garrison’s door and entered, followed by Tommy. The sound of her high heels caught the attention of the people already inside, heads turned to the lovers as they both puffed on their cigs, ignoring the fact they were late.

“Good morning everyone, I’m happy you could all make it. We know there are disagreements between some of you, but business comes first, right?” Y/N took the lead, positioning herself in front of everybody.

In the room we could see Polly, sitting at the same table as her son Michael who kept an empty chair next to him, probably expecting his wife to join the meeting. Arthur was next to the counter, pouring himself some whiskey. Ada was seated by herself, arms crossed, she already looked pissed off for some reason, but when did she not look like that?

To finish, Mr Rice was alone at a table at the back of the room, as if he didn’t want to mix with the people present at this meeting.

The smiles and sweetness that was present on Tommy and Y/N's faces last night was long gone as both of them wore an emotionless cold face now. They stood side by side, but not too close to avoid suspicion about the nature of their relationship.

“Mr Rice, may I introduce you to my partner, Mr Thomas Shelby, OBE.” She waved her hand to the man standing right next to her.

“Michael, this is Gina’s father, but I bet you already met him, didn’t you?” We could sense provocation in her tone, but Michael was too concentrated on wondering why Gina’s father was there to notice it.

“Polly, we informally met each other two nights prior to this day. Nice to meet you officially.” She threw a smirk to Polly before pouring some whiskey into two cups, giving one to Tommy as she sipped on hers.

The man ignored the stares of his family and drank his drink. They discussed strategies before the meeting and he was sure she knew what she was doing, if everything happened as Y/N predicted, he wouldn’t even have to open his mouth this morning.

“Why are we here?” Polly was the one to ask the question that everybody had in mind.

“To inform you about the restructure of the Shelby Company Limited.” The librarian snapped back outrightly. She didn’t miss the face Michael made and the way his chest raised, it wouldn’t last long before opening his mouth, she could tell, and she counted on that.

“According to what I heard, Americans don't want to deal with the Peaky Blinders, so we’re giving them the Bridgehead Corporation instead.”

It was the first time Tommy heard mentioning the name of her own organisation and his side-eye look showed how deep she piqued his interest.

“I got people back in New York that reached to your contacts, Michael, offering them to directly deal with the opium dealer themselves rather than having to have you as the intermediary.” She didn’t even look to the Gray man, despising him for trying to outdo Tommy.

“Mr Rice here,” She spiritedly pointed at the man sitting at the back of the room “...is one of my associates in America, he is here to testify that they will directly link the Chinese to your contacts if you don’t back down your stupid caprice, Michael.”

Tommy’s cousin was looking at the woman with a clenched jaw, and she knew he wouldn’t be able to retort anything because he wasn’t even the brain of his plan, it was his wife, and she wasn’t there.

She smacked her lips, “But we both know that fucking Americans don’t want to deal with Chinese, right, they don’t want to have to talk to them & do all the real job. They want their money fast without dirtying their hands so they can strut around with their big bellies and cigars.” She continued, meeting Polly’s black stare, but she didn’t give in.

She wasn’t scared of any member of this family, she was there to have Tommy’s back which meant she wouldn’t back down. If they wanted to concentrate on the evil things he’s done and be blind to the fact that all he did was for his family to prosper, then she would be the only one standing by his side.

Polly’ eyes reached Tommy’s, breaking eye contact with Y/N. The Shelby's head wasn’t even looking at the crowd, he was looking before him, listening closely to what the Y/H/C haired woman was saying.

“I’m high-society in England, my name’s on the War records. I've worked hand in hand with Emmeline Pankhurst, which make people talk about me even when I’m not there. Add to this that now, I too deal with the Chinese in the name of the Peaky Blinders. If I approach your contacts, Mr Gray, do you think they will refuse me?” She was speaking with a very calm voice, no anger nor pride and no glance thrown his way, she was too occupied lightening up another cigarette.

“Who the fuck are you?” He ultimately let out, to Y/N's greatest pleasure.

“Who the fuck am I? Say the one losing 2$ million in fucking stock market but still think he can lead this company.” She chuckles to herself, and Arthur can only snort at her arrogance.

A freezing silence settled in the room.

“How’s Gina, Michael?” She finally looked at him with a vicious smile, “Oh yeah, you cannot properly take care of her either.” She let out solemnly.

Another silence settled as Polly was once again intently looking at the woman.

She knew from the start she wasn’t a simple “librarian” as Tommy portrayed her, but this was too much of a scene for a high-society person. She was there when Mosley spoke at the Arrow House during the ballet and it was nothing like what just happened.

There was something more about this that she couldn’t quite get.

“Now if you would excuse us, we got a fucking fascist to kill.” She let out before putting one of her hands in her suit’s pocket as she grabbed the bottle of whiskey with her other hands after sticking her cigarette in between her lips.

Tommy watched her leave the room and raised his brows out of surprise, she was something… He couldn’t say otherwise. It was now sure that Michael wouldn’t try something against him, after that speech, he himself never wanted to be an enemy to Y/N.

(...)

*Bingley Hall, 6th*

“What did you mean: damage from the inside?"

“I have a strategy,” Tommy started to pace up and down, overflowed by the number of thoughts in his mind as well as adrenaline filling his veins.

“You always have a strategy,” Jessie Eden continues wiping the dirt off her face in front of the mirror.

“But it’s dangerous, and it can’t be shared without sharing the danger. ” He opened his arms to mimic how dangerous it was while turning to her figure.

“What’s going to happen?” She turned to face him as the Shelby's head began his race again.

He stops right in front of her without breaking eye contact, his head held high, “I’m gonna do a good thing.” He waved his hand as if he was acting. He thought it was funny to put “I” and “doing a good thing” in the same sentence, “When I do a good thing, innocent people get hurt. So go home.” He looked straight at her. “After this evening, we can meet, discuss strategies.” He pointed to the door with his hand that was holding his cap, “That beast… out there he just a beast. He’s like a horse. It’s the rider that decides which direction it takes.” Tommy wasn’t even talking to Eden at this point, it was himself he tried to cheer up.

He was already putting back his hat on as joining the door when she asked, “And who will be the rider?”

“Just go home.”

He opened the door and left, leaving her aghast while staring at the door shutting. She could only fill the blanks in Tommy’s speech by herself. It was him, who would be the rider.

(...)

“Full?”

“To the fucking brim.” McCavern’s strong accent reached his boss’ ears like the most satisfying sound.

He was arranging his collar in front of a glass, concentrating, “Trouble?”

“So far, a few communists. Bowlers helped our boys clear them away.”

“A few hecklers are a good thing. We can demonstrate how we deal with opposition.” Mosley’s voice was calm, not an ounce of nervosity nor anxiety or apprehension in his voice. He was confident, even his usual arrogance could be heard in his tone.

“There’s a rumour a gang of Jews are coming up from Digbeth. No sign of them yet.” The Irish man was watching things laying on the tables as if truly interested in knowing what they were. He behaved as if it was routine for him to stand by the side of a fascist who was about to tell thousands of people it was a minority being the source of all problems in England and preach about how its extinction will bring much fortune to their beloved country.

Mosley was done making arrangements with his clothes, but his eyes were still fixed on his own through the mirror, his head held high, “Well, let them come. Welcome them appropriately” He concluded.

The atmosphere was serene, filled with silence when Jimmy McCavern suddenly felt concerned, finally raising his gaze to the head of the Fascist serpent, “There are a few Peaky boys around.”

Mosley looked at the Irish man through the mirror, tilting his head to the side and clicking his tongue, “They are our allies. There’ll be no rift between us. Keep your powder dry” He exhaled.

McCavern was about to leave when called by his boss, who was now turned to him, standing straight. His vitreous black eyes didn’t blink even once as he abruptly made the Nazi salute toward the Irish near the door, “Perish Judah.”

The Irish scoffed, opening the door.

“No joke, Mr McCavern.” Mosley gave his first and only warning.

McCavern closed the door in a thud and shifted his position to stand straight, making the Nazi salute towards Mosley without any expression on his face, “Perish Judah.”

After that, Mosley came back to look at himself in the mirror, turning his body to the side, a hand on his stomach, probably checking how fit he looked.

The door opened and closed, a dry chuckle filling the silent room, “Shouldn’t you be repeating your speech or something?”

Mosley’s eyes lift to Y/N. A cigarette hanging over her lips. She was wearing a dark suit matching the gleam in her staring iris. His lids closed before snapping open to her long fitted pants that reached her feet over her black high heels.

She clicks her tongue once in front of him, leading him to lift his gaze to hers.

“You shouldn’t be here, I’ll be announced in a minute.”

“Oh, that I know Sir.”

He gave her a faint smile as closing his eyes with satisfaction, he could get used to being called ‘Sir’ by the owner of the suave voice reaching his ears.

He opened his eyes to hers, “Why the black outfit?” He tilted his head to the side, intrigued by the potential answer.

Y/N was smoking her cig, “Preparing for someone’s death.” She offered him a side smile as a heavy silence settled in the tiny room.

He clicked his tongue, not knowing if she was referencing to the people causing a riot or else. He stretched his arm to the door, inviting her to be the first to get out.

Y/N took a step closer, his hand now touching her as she locked the butt of her cigarette in between her lips, her fingers reaching Mosley’s shoulders, swapping the fabrics off of any potential dirt.

She, obviously, knew he didn’t like to be touched and that Mosely would certainly be annoyed by having the smoke of cigarettes so near his face as he despised them, but she also knew how proud he would feel to finally have an intimate contact with her as he loved women.

Mosley grabbed one of her wrists with one hand, stopping her in her tracks. She lifts her eyes to his staring ones, they were devoid of any emotions, as usual. She was quick to slide her fingers in his, the contact-making him drop her hand abruptly with disgust.

Even if her face didn’t show anything, she was internally laughing at how easy it was to play with him and poke him right in his weak points.

“A quick fuck, perhaps?” She teased the man even more.

She knew if it was any other time he would gladly bend her over a table and fuck her while looking at his own reflection, but it wasn’t the time nor the moment. But she also knew he was well aware he wouldn’t have any other occasion with her, which made the torture a little more dramatic.

He broke the stare and by-passed her without even saying anything, slamming the door behind him.

(...)

“Tommy.” Was all she succeeded at saying, her saliva being sticky out of nervousness. She couldn’t believe they were about to do it.

He turned to her, his back facing the mirror. No need to describe how relieved he was to see her radiant face. YN's perfect hair framing her face elegantly as her finger-waves bounced as she took steps further towards him.

The mood immediately shifted, it was light and soft, the sweet exchanges of looks and smiles uncovering their feelings for each other. They couldn’t even hide the fact they were desperate for each other now.

It was obvious to the two, but also to everyone around them, beginning with Lizzie. She refused to see Thomas for days now, hiding in her own house Tommy bought her when Ruby was born.

She wasn’t the only one refusing to see him, Polly never gave news after the last family meeting, but Tommy heard she was now living with Aberama in her house, away from any illegal activities while Aberama still was working with Tommy, looking forward to the time he’d be able to avenge his son by killing McCavern.

Arthur, that was spending way more time than needed at the Bridgehead library, also noticed how close she and Tommy were, and he never ceased to make jokes, which Y/N blocked by slipping in remarks on how he was eyeing her right-hand, Bridget, and how often this latter began to show up late at work.

The insinuation of Arthur having an affair with the employee of Y/N always made Tommy chortle on his drink, while his older brother remained unusually silent. He, that always thought to be so discreet that no one noticed he found a love interest in a feminist, was in fact not so discreet, much to his displeasure. And hearing his brother laughing at him didn’t help.

Y/N inhaled deeply, her heart pounding in her chest that was inflating. Her fingers went fondling the wrinkles at the corner of Tom’s eyes in a tender manner that immediately eased the man, his skin burning under the touch.

He tilted his head, leaning into her caress so her palm would cup his cheek.

He and she knew better than anyone that in this chaotic lifestyle, they needed sweetness. Not that he was okay admitting he found it while being with her, but she hoped it was the case.

“Something’s in the air, Thomas. Be prepared for death.” She patted one of his temples with her free hand.

He opened back his eyes, darkened by something she couldn’t name, his eyebrows furrowed while blinking, searching answers in Y/N’s eyes in vain.

He didn’t understand what the hell she was saying, but it didn’t matter, she was there, by his side, ready to take on the entire world if needed. He was aware of how much she cared and how she was ready to fight till her last breath by his side. And he'll eventually accept he felt the same about her.

The door opened and Arthur’s head picked through.

It wasn’t just Thomas Shelby against the world, it was them against the world. His brother, his lover, and himself.

Tommy coughed and looked at the ground before looking at his brother with squinting eyes. What was so urgent for him to invade their space like that?

Y/N quickly glanced at the reflection in the mirror behind Tommy to see who had entered the room. Seeing the older Shelby brother’s head, she shamelessly closed the gap between Tom’s face and hers, kissing him with strength.

She was surprised to feel Tommy’s rough hands tenderly cupping her face, his thumbs rubbing her soft skin, as he responded to her kiss with as much strength as her.

“We got this, Y/N.” He said in a whisper, without difficulty.

A warm thunderbolt ran down Y/N’s spine as she stepped backwards, her gaze falling on one of her hands gripping tightly onto Tommy’s jacket.

Even if she tried not to show it, the plan was so big and meant so much that it got her nervous.

Her cheeks reddened a bit but the man couldn’t quite grasp at this vision of her as she almost ran out of the room.

Now that he was showing affection, he was making her flee.

Well, he still hadn’t cracked the code to Y/N’s character.

“Come on Y/N, we’ve been there.” Tommy’s deep voice reached her ears in a huff.

“I know but I want you to tell me all over again.” She turned her naked body to him.

He exhaled deeply and lit a cigarette before explaining to her the plan again. He flattened the white sheet on the bed and created a wrinkle on it to show her the stage.

“Mosley and I will be here,” he then put the used matchstick on the sheet in front of the representative stage, “Barney will be up there, waiting for the sign to shoot.”

Y/N frowned and hit his hand along with the matchstick, “get this shit out my bed, this is an expensive sheet, Sergent Major.”

Tom chuckled as he bent over to her to grab her wrists, forcing her to lean all over him, “Come to me reporting for your duty, then.”

She giggled and grabbed his cig, smoking while drowning in his icy blue eyes.

It was routine now for them to share intimate moments late at night. From staying up late in the Shelby Brother Company limited office, looking to the ceiling, Tom upgraded to visit Y/L/N’s manor.

And inevitably, the lust between them eventuated in their bodies intertwining in all different kinds of places.

Tonight was the bed, fortunately for Y/N’s back as their last night’s epic adventure led them outside the house, in the nearby woods.

One of his hands wandered on her bruised body, other marks of their passionate nights along with burn marks caused by her carpets…

His eyes, thirsty of her, followed the path of his hand with as much attention as he would pay to horse racing.

Y/N found the face he made funny. She couldn’t read him, as hard as she would try, but she knew he felt good there, with her, and it was all that mattered at the moment. It was only them in this space. It was their war zone. Here, he wasn’t at the head of a gigantic gang nor the right hand of a fascist, and she wasn’t running a feminist organisation, no.

They were just lovers bearing their soul to each other, as silly as it sounded. And they wouldn’t trade it for nothing.

“Brother,” Arthur called Tommy back to reality. “Know she’s something else,” he raised his brows in understanding, “but Mosley’s been searching you out there.”

Tom ignored his brother’s remark and cleared his throat, by-passing Arthur.

That one didn’t miss the occasion to drop a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, “I’m happy for you, brother.”

And as little as this was, it was enough for Tommy to be relieved of whatever was heavy on his shoulders.

The simple fact he still got his brother meant something deep.

He was ready to make his plan shift from his head to reality. By the end of this day, he’ll be at the head of English fascism, following Oswald Mosley’s death.

He will reach his ambition.

Following Chapter ❱

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