#this is also how i 'knew' hazard was 3 years | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sometimesanalice · 10 months

Text

In a Place Just Right

Summary: It's your first year hosting Thanksgiving in San Diego for the Daggers and Bradley can tell you're a little nervous about it. But he already knows it's going to be one for the books, because any holiday spent with you better than anything he could have imagined.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5K

Warnings: fluff and allusions to smut (minors dni)

(author's note: this fic is set in the 'Like I Can Universe', but can be read on it's own! Happy Thanksgiving, friends!)

For the last six years Penny has been the one to host Daggersgiving, but this year hostess duties had fallen on your plate. Needless to say, Bradley knew you were more than a little stressed about it.

When you had asked him about his opinion on the merits of canned cranberry sauce versus homemade he’d blinked at you a few times before asking, “Is this a thing people care about?”

He’ll never forget how adorably aghast you looked to learn that he had no preference on the matter. And maybe if you had asked him when the sun was up instead of at 3 AM he might have known better than to give you such a noncommittal answer.

“Both, we’ll have both,” you’d stated resolutely.

“Whatever you want, kid," he’d murmured as he’d pulled you to his chest and wrapped an arm around your stomach. His smart and beautiful wife. "Now go back to sleep, you’re supposed to be dreaming of sugarplums not cranberries."

“Wrong holiday, Bradley,” you’d sighed contentedly, relaxing against him. And it hadn’t taken you long to fall back asleep with that cranberry crisis having been averted.

But now people were due to show up in less than an hour and you are frantically fluttering and huffing around the kitchen like a madwoman in a very pretty green dress, "I knew that quickie was a bad idea. You're never quick, Bradley."

He’d been away and missed many holidays over the years due to his career.

Your mom had always made it clear that he had an open invitation to join in whatever merry festivities were happening with your family, but more often than not it rarely aligned with him being stationed all over the world. But he’d always been happy to get to have a phone call with you and eat the homemade cookies you’d sent him on those years spent apart.

But now Bradley got to look forward to spending every holiday with you in the home you shared with him.

Over the last week the house had slowly but surely transformed into something that was straight out of a magazine.

There was a display of pumpkins, ribbons, and a garland of strung dried orange slices that decorated the fireplace. And overpriced candles from your favorite store flickered cheerfully on every surface that wasn’t a fire hazard to a bunch of enthusiastic Naval aviators. The dining table was dressed up to the nines and everyone spot with their names painstakingly written in your pretty script on a place card sitting in a pinecone.

You had even made some oversized confetti in the shape of oak leaves out of some old books, the copy of ‘Why Men Love Bitches’ that Nat had given him years ago as a joke was finally repurposed and recycled into something more festive over where the beverages had been set up.

The whole house smells amazing. Warm cinnamons and nutmegs mixing with bright citrus and rich vanillas. The kitchen island and countertops were filled with various plates and platters and bowls of dips, charcuterie, fruit and vegetables, nuts, and other savories. All the other dishes were being kept warm in the ovens for when everyone arrived and was ready to settle around the dining table for dinner.

Bradley was positive that no one would leave feeling hungry. He also wasn’t entirely sure where the things his friends are bringing were going to go, but there were worse problems to have.

Penny had taken Amelia with her to visit her family on the East Coast. They’d decided it would probably be better for Mav to hang back in San Diego for the holiday, those tensions with her dad were still a bit strained even though they’d been married for almost four years now.

Which is how the Bradshaw’s were hosting their first Thanksgiving for everyone.

This morning had been organized chaos. Some of the last minute-things had only managed to be checked off with the assistance of strong coffee and a good playlist.

However, he’d still managed to sneak in the opportunity to spin you around the kitchen to your wedding song when it came up on shuffle. After all the cranberries were still popping and boiling down; there was time for it, he'd always make time for it.

But that was then.

Now, you are glaring at him like you’d been personally victimized by him and his cock.

“You complaining, sweet girl?” he asks with a smirk, leaning his hip against the kitchen island watching as you briskly stir the gravy heating up in the copper sauce pot on the stove. “Don’t think that’s what I was hearing thirty minutes ago when we had that pretty green dress of yours bunched around your hips. Sounded something like ‘more, Bradley, more’ to me.”

You shoot him a look that would make a weaker man wither, but he’s built up an immunity to it over a lifetime of having it directed at him.

“I think that’s quite enough out of you,” you reprimand, but he sees the amusement in your eyes even as you fight to keep the annoyed façade on your face. “We’re behind schedule now. I thought I buffered in enough time, just in case-”

“Just in case you begged me to give you an orgasm to, and I quote, ‘help me chill out’?”

“I was kidding,” you say, stopping your agitated whisking to go fluff the stuffing instead.

“All I’m saying is that if my beautiful wife is begging for me, I’m certainly not going to say no. I’m only human,” he says with an all too pleased shrug.

Bradley grabs the can opener and works on opening the canned cranberry sauce. He reaches for a couple plates, holding them up for your approval and you point to the one on the right, the scalloped white one with gold rim.

“For the record, I certainly did not beg,” you say primly, glowering into the homemade stuffing that you’d had him get the bread from the nice bakery across town for.

“Sure, sure,” he drawls, the smirk growing wider on his face as he sets to freeing the jelly from its rippled container.

He knows he shouldn’t tease you right now, but you’re so cute when you get huffy that he can’t help himself. He’s known that petulant raise of your chin his whole life. And sometimes when he looks at you he can so clearly see the little girl he’d been forced to entertain for hours when your moms were hanging out.

You went from being his favorite nuisance to his best friend to his everything.

“Do I still look ok? Or do I need to do a quick refresh before everyone gets here?” you ask. You turn to fully face him, tilting your head one way and then another for his inspection.

He would happily stare at you all day if you’d let him. He loves your pretty eyes and what you’ve done with your hair.

“You’re beautiful,” he grins, “And if anyone asks, we can just say you’re flushed from all the cooking.”

“Bradley,” you whine setting down your wooden spoon down on the counter with a sharp thwack.

“Ok, ok. I’m done, I promise,” he says putting his hands up in surrender with a chuckle.

He pushes off the counter and grabs a glass off of one of the floating shelves and fills it with some ice water.

“Good,” you tut haughtily, as you fiddle with the white and orange striped kitchen towel hanging on the oven door, “I was about to threaten to make you sleep on the couch tonight.”

“You wouldn’t.” Even the thought of it makes his stomach feel unsettled.

After nearly two decades of hard beds on foreign bases and on lumpy carrier mattresses, he’s never slept as well as he did since the two of you found your way to each other.

His peace was found under a fluffy green duvet on a wooden canopy bed with you tucked under his arm.

“No. No, I wouldn’t,” you agree, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his cheek in thanks when he presses the cold glass into your hands.

Bradley tugs you away from the warm stove and you reluctantly follow and sit on the barstool he’s pulled out for you on the other side of the kitchen island.

He runs his hand up and down your back comfortingly as you take a few sips, “We’re in a great place, sweet girl.”

“Mhm, yeah. Sure, of course.” You couldn’t sound less unsure if you tried. “It’s just… I’m nervous about the mushroom and leeks bread pudding. I’ve never made it before. And what if we run out of wine?”

“What’s been our motto?” he asks, taking over the helm at the stove whisking the gravy together as it begins to thicken.

“‘In Ina we trust’,” you say with a serious nod of your head.

“Atta girl, we sure do. And Nat said she’s is bringing a few bottles she picked up from when she went to Napa, the good shit. It’s going to be great. Trust me,” he says giving you a warm smile. “Will it make you feel better to go over everything again?”

“Yes, please,” you say, anxiously drumming your fingers along the side of your water glass.

He’d stepped up where he could like making sure the house was pristine and cleaning up the yard by blowing off the wrinkled remainders of the yellow Tipuana flowers. He’d even been able to source and rent some more chairs to make sure that everyone would have a seat at the table.

Bradley wasn’t a schlump in the kitchen. He knew his way around a cookbook and a stove. His knife skills were pretty damn good too, if he did say so himself. But he also knew when somethings were out of his wheelhouse. So he’d taken to being your sous chef, and had taken to washing and prepping the ingredients for you so that all you had to do was toss them in whatever shiny pot they were destined for.

He even made his mom’s favorite pie. It had been years since he's had it, and he was excited to share it with everyone.

Your mom had mailed the copy of the original recipe she had that was written in Carole’s rounded, flourished script. You had made a photocopy of it to use so that the original didn’t get ruined, and then pointed out a spot on the wall where you said you’d thought it would look nice in a frame hanging in the kitchen. And he'd fallen a little more in love with you.

“Ok, hit me with it,” he says turning the heat to low for the gravy and putting the lid on.

This was a partnership through and through, he was going to give you all the support you needed.

“The turkey?”

Bradley picks up the fancy digital meat thermometer he’d bought for the occasion to check, “Big Bird has an hour and twenty more minutes to work on his tan and then he’ll rest for another thirty. Giving people time to graze and mingle and get some drinks in them, just like you wanted.”

You nod and hum contemplatively, “I’ve been thinking we need a salad. I don’t feel like we have enough vegetable options.”

He knows better than to point out that you’re currently snacking on snap peas from not one, but three, of the veggie platters the two of you had put together the night before.

“We’ve got the crispy brussels sprouts, the garlic and hazelnut green beans, and the honey glazed carrots with lemon. We’re more than fine on the fiber and beta-carotene. Michelle Obama would be proud, kid.”

That gets a little laugh from you.

“Well, as long as you think Michelle would be happy than we’re probably fine,” you say with a smile around your water glass that tells him you know exactly what he’s doing invoking your favorite First Lady.

“What else are you thinking about?” Bradley asks peering in the lower of their double ovens, where foiled covered dishes are lined up in perfect symmetry are warming away having been prepared in advance.

“Do you think two bags of rolls will be enough? Or should I text Mav and ask him to grab one more?”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes dip down to his ass in his gray slacks. So he might linger as second longer than necessary to let you enjoy the view, since it’s for the female gaze and all.

He’s never understood wearing the most restrictive clothing on the holiday that involves the most eating, but that was Penny’s tradition to have everyone dressed in their nicest and you had insisted on keeping it going even if she was on the other side of the country.

You’d teased him earlier when you’d seen him emerge from the bedroom wearing the short-sleeved green cashmere polo you’d gotten him a couple years ago. It fit a little more snug that he remembered it, but he thought he still pulled it off well.

“When did we become the couple that matches?” you’d asked gesturing to your dress as you gave him an appreciative onceover.

If the past was anything to go off of, you would be running your hands over the soft material covering his chest and back all night.

“I just like reminding people who I belong with, sweet girl.”

He might have had something else in mind to wear for the evening before he saw you in that dress, had ironed the shirt the night before and everything, but last-minute pivot it was well worth it when you looked at him like that.

When he stands back up, he gives you knowing wink.

And in return you throw a baby carrot at him with a laugh.

Bradley isn’t surprised in the least to hear the quick clack-clack-clack of nails on the wood floors as their fluffy black and white Portuguese Water Dog rounds the corner. Having been summoned by the sound of food hitting the floor from where he had been dozing near the fireplace in the living room.

The carrot is gone in an instant and he comes to sit at Bradley's feet by the stove, looking up at him from under his curly eyebrows clearly hoping he'll get another snack.

“Nah, bud. You’re barking up the wrong tree over here,” he says leaning down to scratch his floppy ears.

“Ah, come here, Duck,” you croon, calling him over to your side of the island. “He’s so mean for a man who claimed he just saw God not too long ago, isn’t he?”

Bradley snorts and shakes his head at you amused.

He still doesn’t know how he ended up with a dog named Duck.

At the dog park, more often than not people mistook it for ‘Buck’. And you were usually off to the side more than happy to let him take the lead, biting your lip to keep from laughing at his less than enthusiastic expression when he’d have to warily explain yet again It’s Duck like quack.

You’re not even subtle about the piece of cheese you pull from the charcuterie board to feed him.

“I saw that,” he says, giving you a pointed lift of his eyebrow, “You know Bob is going to be spoiling him all night.”

“It was just a little piece of cheese. Plus, I don’t know who you think you’re fooling. I saw you go over there and deliver him his own little veggie platter with some of the leftovers we had while I was making the apple cider sangria.”

“That’s different, that’s good for him,” he says rounding the island, reaching over and snagging his own slice of cheese to snack on.

“And cheese is a protein. He’s just a baby, Bradley, what am I supposed to do? Not give him a piece of swiss?” You slide off your chair to squat down and rub Duck’s belly, you’ve always been his favorite.

“He’s almost five,” he replies flatly.

“A youth!” you exclaim, “He’s a growing boy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bradley says affectionately with a little roll of his eyes. He knows a losing battle when he sees one.

He offers you his hand to help you stand back up, but you wave him off and pull yourself up using the edge of the island. You take a moment to readjust your dress before making your way to the sink by the big windows that look out into the backyard.

“Speaking of Bob, do you know if he’s bringing his fiancée?” you ask from over your shoulder as you wash your hands.

“Not this time, sweetheart. I guess she volunteered to cover a shift in the NICU when she heard they were short staffed.”

“Oh that’s too bad, I was excited to see her ring in person,” you say drying off your hands and heading to the pantry.

“It’s all he can talk about at work. I guess they’re thinking about a Spring wedding next year. They don’t want to wait too long to get married.”

“I’m so happy for them,” you say, digging around for a moment and then emerge with a stack of some sturdy plastic plates and set them on the last free spot on the countertop. “Don’t let me forget to make them up a couple plates that he can bring home for her, before Fanboy declares it time for ‘second dinner’ and eats all the yams like he did last year.”

“I won’t forget, promise,” he says fondly.

If you were facing him, he knows you’d probably tease him for the look on his face and just how gone he is for you.

You’ve always been so generous, it’s one of the things that he loves most about you.

You were always good about hustling him out of his well-earned money from is part time job scooping ice cream in high school, like with the fundraiser you did for the local soup kitchen and the one for the elementary school summer arts program.

He’s always been wrapped around your finger, it just took him awhile to realize why.

It’s the same reason why there’s been a donation that comes out of his bank account every month for the last five years for one of the San Diego animal shelters.

Bradley had made a rather sizable donation and then set up a smaller reoccurring monthly one after the chaos that was the time Bob had set you up with his friend who worked at the shelter, back before the two of you had gotten together.

Even after all these years, he still can’t help but get a little irritated every time he sees that guy’s face in the monthly newsletter that comes to his email. He’s pretty sure Casey still might have a little crush on you, but Bradley can’t blame him. He’d have a hard time getting over you too, so it’s a good thing he’ll never have to.

On newsletter day, Bradley always finds himself giving Duck extra treats.

You are his wife. And Duck is his dog. Ridiculous name and all.

He couldn’t wait to surprise you with the golden tennis ball that the shelter sends out as a thank you after a decade of donations.

Only five more years to go.

You’re over by the bar that’s been set up off to the side, straightening the already very straight rows of gleaming wine glasses when he hears you suck in a sharp gasp.

Bradley drops the dish cloth he had in his hands as he attempted to give what little counter space there was left a final wipe down and is in front of you in half a heartbeat. Was there a fluke with some faulty stemware? Are you bleeding? There’s a reason Thanksgiving is one of the busiest days at the hospital.

“The butter!” you cry out as you whirl around, your pretty eyes welling up with tears, “I let you fuck me and I forgot to pull the butter from the fridge. It’s going to be too hard for people to spread now!”

He knows it’s more than just hosting jitters that’s got you like this, but it still catches him by surprise sometimes.

“Woah, woah,” he says as he catches you on the way to the fridge and pulls you to his chest, “C’mere, my sweet girl.”

You make a distressed noise but allow him to keep his hold on you, “But the butter…”

“I already pulled the butter, see?” He points to the sticks that are already softening away on the counter. “This place looks and smells amazing. We did good, baby. Will you take a couple slow breaths for me, please?”

Bradley takes in a couple measured breathes with you, and feels the moment your body relaxes into his.

He presses a kiss to the side of your temple as he smooths his hands down your soft, pretty green velvet dress and the warm, firm curve of your rounded stomach soothingly.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. It’s the hormones,” you sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

He hums empathically as he sways gently side to side with you in his arms.

“I would like to go on the record saying that I like pregnancy hormones, especially the ones from earlier,” he jokes lightly.

“That makes one of us,” you say with a watery laugh, “Just wait until I am waking you up at 4 AM because I am craving something from a drive-thru that’s not open.”

“Mm, can’t wait,” he murmurs before dropping a few kisses along the soft line of your jaw.

Bradley still can’t believe he gets to be this lucky in life.

He doesn’t want to forget a single moment of this. With you, with his family.

“We did a really good job with this one,” he whispers into your ear, still stroking your stomach and enjoying this moment of calm with you.

“We really did, da--” Bradley groans and cuts you off with a kiss. He can feel the impish smile plastered on your lips as he kisses you. His favorite menace.

He knows you’re pretty sure it was the spontaneous hook up in the storage closet at the Hard Deck on the Fourth of July that’s responsible for the noticeable bump you’re sporting. Call him a romantic, but he likes to think it was that night in the Bronco overlooking the ocean when he’d taken the long way back home.

You pull away all too soon for his liking to grab his left hand. He sees the flash of the two diamonds on your engagement ring, one from his mom and one from yours, as you take it and press it to a spot near your bellybutton.

The feeling of the fluttering under his palm will never get old. He’s not too proud to say he’d shed a tear or two the first time he’d felt it.

You hum in contentment, your finger lightly tracing over the shiny gold band of his wedding ring.

Bradley lets himself bask in this moment as the two of you stand there in the kitchen of your dream house.

There are a few pops from the wood in the fireplace, the refrigerator is humming away in the background, and he can just hear the sounds of a melodic piano from the playlist he queued up earlier playing over the speaker.

Of all the delicious scents that waft through the house, the smell the floral and musk notes in you perfume is still his favorite.

There are times in the soft quiet of night, usually when you are asleep and his mind won’t quite settle, that he sometimes thinks he was put on this Earth to hold you.

It’s the only reason he can think of that explains why you fit so perfectly against his body.

Why his palms can fit so perfectly over your rounded stomach.

Why it’s his hands that you have trusted to protect your heart.

And he’s still holding you in the warmth of the kitchen when he hears the front door open.

Bradley knows he’s going to have to play host soon and he just wants to keep you in his arms for just a little longer.

“Hey kids, I brought the turkey,” Mav calls out from the entry.

You spin in his arms, looking at him wide eyed and confused as you two exchange a look. He presses one last kiss to your cheek before letting you go.

“Thought you were going to bring the rolls, Mav,” Bradley calls out just in time to see him round the corner.

Pete stands there proudly grinning holding a few bags of bakery rolls in one hand and a turkey in the other.

The sound of your delighted laughter makes his heart swell in his chest as he takes in the sight.

“Cooper Mitchell Ford Bradshaw, you are without a doubt the cutest turkey I have ever seen,” you gush as you go to greet Mav with a warm hug and a kiss on his cheek. Your son’s chubby arms reaching out for you.

Mav has dressed your almost two-year-old son in a soft, plush turkey costume that is complete with tailfeathers and a beak. He’s clearly a fan of the outfit too because he is grinning widely, showing of the more of the baby teeth that have come in over the last few months.

Mav had swung by early this morning to take him off your hands to get ready for Daggersgiving without chasing an almost-toddler around. While it was nice to have some time just the two of you while you got the place in order and took care of the last-minute things, like that homemade cranberry sauce, but he’d missed not having his son around.

The sweet sound of Cooper’s giggles and your coos fill up the kitchen as he watches you pepper his face with kisses. You bounce him a little and do a little spin, making the little boy laugh even more. The two of you in your own little bubble.

“You doin’ ok over there, kid?” Mav asks. A soft, knowing grin on his face as he sets the rolls on the counter to pull him in for a hug.

The two men had made their way back to each other over the last few years, just another thing that Bradley was grateful for in his life. The man had always been his father in everything but name. That is until he’d seen the man who helped raised him hold his son for the first time.

“Yeah, Dad,” Bradley says, clearing his throat a bit, “Everything’s perfect.”

From there it’s a flurry of activity as people start to arrive.

Nat comes with her longtime girlfriend and the extra bottles of the fancy Napa wine she promised to bring. Only handing it over once he promised to give her the name of the contractor the two of you had worked with and the exact shade of green that was used on the lower cabinets during your kitchen renovation.

Payback and Fanboy and their wives show up wearing oversized turkey hats on their heads each carrying a bakery box of pie.

Bradley isn’t surprised when Duck ditches the attention that Coyote was giving him the second Bob shows up with the famous Floyd family scalloped potatoes. Bob has always been a sucker for a pair of puppy dog eyes.

And in between checking on people’s glasses, swapping out empty appetizer trays for fuller ones, and making sure Jake doesn’t tamper with his perfectly cooked turkey, he’s got his eyes trained on you.

There are no words for the pride and love that washes over him every time he looks over and sees you with his son propped up on your hip and the way your pretty dress stretches around your growing family.

He had missed this stage of your pregnancy when he was deployed and you were pregnant with Cooper. He was determined to savor every second of this one. Every butter related freak out and every late-night milkshake run.

Being in his house surrounded with all the people he loves, minus a couple who are here in spirit, isn’t something he could ever take for granted. It’s more blessings than he ever hoped to receive in this lifetime.

You look over your shoulder at him and everything about the way you’re looking at him is picture perfect.

Your smile sunshine gold and just for him as you hold his gaze for a moment as time ticks on around the two of you. You send him a little wink before turning back to Mav who has his phone held up for a FaceTime call with Penny and Amelia.

Bradley sees his son peek his head up from where it had been nestled into your neck. Cooper grins when he sees him, his tiny hand reaching out for his dad. For him.

As he makes his way over to the two of you with his heart full, he makes a mental note to ask Mav later where he got that costume. He’s already planning on running out tomorrow to see if they have any more in stock now that it seems they have a new Bradshaw tradition on their hands.

He’s going to have three little turkeys running around this time next year and he couldn’t wait.

Twins.

Bradley sometimes still couldn’t believe it. When the tech has announced that you were cooking not one, but two future Bradshaw’s, his heart had nearly burst from his chest from the shock and joy. A gift from his late father’s side of the family.

Cooper and him were going to be outnumbered soon.

The two of you had found out earlier in the month that Everly Wren Bradshaw and Millie Lark Bradshaw were going to be the newest members to join your little family.

His girls.

It was an announcement the two of you were excited to share later tonight with everyone else when the slices of pies were being passed around.

He scoops up Cooper from you with one arm, dropping a kiss onto his little boy’s perfect curls as his small fist clutches as the soft fabric of his shirt. And then Bradley kisses the crown of your head as he wraps his other arm around you, his thumb stroking the swell of your belly.

With you- because of you- he gets to have it all.

The wife. The family. The house. The dog. The life. The dream.

He’s right where he wants to be.

He’s right where he’s supposed to be.

Happy Thanksgiving! This was such a joy to write, thank you for reading!

It might not be Carole Bradshaw's famous pie, but it's one of my favorites! And who better to share it with than you! Cranberry-Lime Pie

If you haven't read the 'Like I Can' series you can read it here!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster x female reader #rooster imagine #bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster x you

840 notes · View notes

meanbossart · 2 months

Text

DU DROW LORE ASK COMPILATION: COMPANIONS, ASTARION'S READING HABITS, AND HIS LONG-INQUIRED OPINIONS ABOUT BODILY WASTE REVEALED.

I don't think "discussed" is the right word, more so mocked her for her blind faith and got into brief spats. It was precisely Shadowheart's water-off-a-duck's-back attitude towards his remarks that kind ingratiated her to him - DU drow spoke his mind, she took it in stride and remained firm in her beliefs without arguing or trying to push it on him. That, alongside the fact that they are surprisingly similar people is what brought them together as friends.

Even long after the events of the game he's still opposed to her hopping from Shar to Selune, also. Shadowheart's attachment to religion is simply something they agree to disagree about.

Can I answer your question with one of my own?

Am I the only idiot that killed her in their first run LOL

BUT YES, he killed Lae'zel when she tried to murder suicide the camp and I went through the whole game without her. I didn't go to the creche either!

I have since had other runs and she's actually one of my favorite characters, I just haven't had the chance to draw her yet.

ACTUALLY - scratch that. I've drawn her once-

Somewhat! But not really. He genuinely just likes jewelry, and rings are the only kind that suit his life-style (necklaces and earrings are a hazard during fighting) this is a reference to his bhaalist days when he used to be completely covered in the stuff day and night.

Hence why he finds them comforting to have on in some way or another. They change around because he gets bored of/misplaces runs out of fingers to wear the new rings that he loots constantly.

The great link in question

I don't know if it's been made clear enough, but DU drow's love for Astarion is borderline pathological, LOL. He's got a good humor about things and Astarion is definitely no stranger to having little quips and jokes made at his expense (a few references to him being Pointy And Long here and there, for sure), but the guy overwhelmingly adores him and thinks he's always the prettiest girl at the ball, even when he gets in his face and his nose looks huge.

I'll be honest, Astarion strikes me as the kind of guy that has like, 3 really weird books he really enjoys and reads them again and again very slowly over the course of years. Otherwise, not really a reader, but I digress -

DU drow was probably never a big reader himself, I would say he got started on a couple of books back in the day but likely never finished any. He's fairly intelligent, but most of his downtime was spent managing the cult and parsing through relevant documentation.

I definitely don't think he'd have the attention-span for fiction (which I picture as being said books that Astarion enjoys) but he does like to snuggle up with his beau to watch him read - every once in a while he catches a particularly scandalous line or description and they bicker about it. He makes a remark, Astarion feels obligated to explain the context, it devolves into some playful kind of argument that ends with Astarion telling him to go dig a hole and die in it while playing with his hair - The usual LOL.

Oh man I have a few more in-dept descriptions of how that went, both lore-wise and just for me as the player - but in summary, DU drow was pretty mean to everyone earlier on in the game and he did catch onto Astarion's very obvious and obnoxious seduction attempts very clearly. He doesn't like being so desperately pursued and they actually got off on the extremely wrong foot because of it, LOL.

After being unpromptedly rejected at the tiefling party he was a little more enticed by him, basically the "no" was his "go". I like to think of it like Astarion catching onto the fact that his initial strategy wasn't working and that this man in particular needed him to play hard to get - from that point on, DU drow started playing along. DU knew this was still a game, but now they were playing it on even ground so he was fine with it.

First of all - he inexplicably got butt-ass naked for the event.

All in all he liked it a whole lot and it was his re-introduction to the concept of pain being dished out as a form of love and his deep enjoyment of it.

Thank you so much, glad to hear you get some joy out of my work!

Dang it I had a pretty good write-up about his thoughts on Wyll from a long time ago, but I can't find it 😭

In summary, Wyll was a frustrating person for him to be around because of what he viewed to be a deeply ingrained naivete about the world. He shockingly didn't hate him (Wyll is kind of difficult to hate) but he never really saw him as an equal either, and definitely not as a friend. Du drow just desperately wanted him to express something that he would perceive as a genuine emotion; some kind of outburst or show of anger or frustration, but all he ever saw was someone trying to put on an act of performative heroism that he didn't buy at all.

At the same time, Wyll was far too young for him to be too mad. He might have held his father more accountable for making the guy into what he was than Wyll himself, really.

Can a man be scared of being scared? Because if so, it's that.

He also doesn't like shit a normal amount. (piss is fine depending on whose it is.)

#Guys I got my inbox under 80 messages #please clap #On the other hand #I also found more that I want to draw answers for #god help me #ask compilation #du drow lore

253 notes · View notes

cozage · 1 year

Note

Hi Coza! Congrats on the milestone! You so deserve it! Can I please have a Law x female Strawhat reader who reunited after they spent the two years together, how do they explain to the rest of the Strawhats that they ended up starting to date during that time (they are still dating now) and how do the strawhats react to the news? Thank you and congrats again!

A/N: I could’ve spent another 12 pages writing about this UGH great prompt friend. (also going to tag @nico-the-witch since they sent me a very similar request FOREVER ago <3)

Characters: female reader x Law Total word count: 1.1k

The Hats or the Hearts

You were dodgy when your crewmates asked you about your two year gap. You were certain that Luffy would feel betrayed by your decision to travel with other pirates, even if it hadn’t been your intention at first.

You and Law had fallen in love. There was no other way to put it. Your two years had been spent training, but also learning about yourself, and in the softest hours of the night, learning about him. You hadn’t planned to fall in love, especially with another captain. But that was the way your heart chose.

And yet, at the end of the two years, you returned to Sabaody. You couldn’t abandon your family, and Law had respected that. He had business to attend to, anyway. A personal mission he needed to take care of. So you left the crew behind, just the two of you had headed off to Sabaody, and then he left you there to wait for Luffy.

You should’ve ended things. Both of you knew how impossible it would be for two members of opposing crews to be together. But neither of you could bring yourself to end such a good thing, so you promised to call when you could, and that was that.

And yet, you still weren’t sure how to break it to Luffy and the others. How do you admit that you spent your two years falling in love while everyone else was isolated on an island, solely focused on their training?

“Luffy, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” you finally said, once the two of you were alone. “It’s about our two year gap. I was-”

“Look!” Luffy shouted, pointing out to sea. “A volcano is erupting! Let’s go there!”

“Listen, Luffy-” you tried again.

“Wait a minute, Luffy!” Nami shouted over you.

“Let’s go!” Luffy shouted. He didn’t seem interested in having a heart to heart, though you couldn’t blame him with a fiery sea laid out right in front of him.

A little while later, you were on the island of Punk Hazard, traveling with Zoro, Luffy, Robin, and Usopp. Your confession and explanation would have to come later.

Only a few hours, as fate would have it.

“Oh! It’s you!” Luffy called from atop the beast you rode. “Do you remember me?!”

“He’s the guy we met at the Human Shop in Sabaody,” Zoro murmured.

You scrambled up to get a better look. A spotted hat and a black cape. But that was impossible, why was he here? He had personal business to take care of. Punk Hazard wasn’t anything important to him.

“Luffy,” your voice filled with urgency. “There’s something you should know.”

“He’s Trafalgar Law,” Robin reported. “He’s now…”

“Torao!” Luffy shouted. “He helped me get away from the battlefield and treated my wounds.”

“Luffy,” you said again, your eyes still locked on Law. “I need to-”

But he took off running toward Law without listening to your words, and the two captains spoke for several minutes. Your heart sank watching them, watching Law’s eyes flick occasionally to you. This was the last way you wanted your captain to find out about all of this.

But when Luffy returned, he didn’t say anything about his conversation with Law. You kept waiting for him to bring it up, but you all were being chased by the Navy. Perhaps he knew it was a conversation for later. There were more important tasks to be done.

Your group raced around the lab and found the rest of your crew, along with some very large children. Ones who appeared to be giants.

You didn’t rest until everyone was safe in a snowcave, and that’s when you began to notice your crewmates personalities were a little…off.

“Law switched your minds, didn’t he?” You held back a laugh. Of course he did. He knew the Strawhats wouldn’t be able to leave without being put back into the correct bodies. And you would finally be able to see him again.

“How’d you know?” Nami asked.

“Of course he did!” the random head shouted. “That warlord is the one who cut me up, too!”

“Warlord?!” Luffy shouted, emerging from the snowball he was in. “When did Torao become a warlord?!”

“Within the past two years,” Robin said.

“About ten months ago, if I remember correctly.” Everyone gave you strange looks, and you let out a deep sigh. “Luffy, I really need to talk to you.”

Luffy’s brow furled. He didn’t like the sound of your voice. “What is it?”

You looked around the circle. Better to just tell everyone now and get it over with. “During our two year training time, I sailed with Law and the Heart Pirates.”

There was a long pause. Everyone was looking at their captain, waiting for his response.

“Torao? Are you sure? He didn’t mention it when I talked to him earlier.”

Law not mentioning or asking about you was odd, but you had to assume he was only doing it out of respect.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, Luffy. I was just scared of what you would say. I was afraid you would kick me out of your crew.”

“Why would I kick you out?” Luffy scratched his head in confusion. “Do you want to leave?”

“No!” you cried out. “No, I want to stay with you and everyone. I just…wasn’t sure how you’d take it.”

“Can’t say I blame you for sailing with him,” Nami said. “He’s an interesting character.”

“And quite skilled,” Robin offered up.

But Zoro eyed you warily, trying to figure out your true allegiance. You couldn’t blame him.

“Luffy, I swear I want to see you become King of the Pirates,” you said, your words genuine. “I think you deserve it more than anyone.”

“Yeah!” Luffy shouted. “But I really don’t know why you were scared to tell me about sailing with Torao. We all did cool things during our time away. Brook toured, Robin joined the Revolutionary Army, and you sailed the sea. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Except that she served under another captain,” Zoro said, still locked onto you. “Another captain who is coincidentally a warlord who helps the government. And he’s coincidentally on this island with us now.”

“I had no idea he was going to be here, I swear!”

“See Zoro?” Luffy shrugged, clearly not caring about the idea Zoro was alluding to. “She says she didn’t know. She’s still a part of our crew. That’s what matters.”

And you were loyal to the Strawhats. But you were also loyal to the Heart Pirates. You just prayed you’d never have to make a decision between one or the other.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #law x y/n #law x you #cozage #✧˚law✧˚

765 notes · View notes

wings-of-fire-confessions · 10 months

Note

I honestly wish that the fandom talked more about the fact that Moonwatcher was PHYSICALLY NEGLECTED throughout her childhood.

Her mother, Secretkeeper, didn’t and/or wasn’t able to provide Moon with the proper amount of supervision and maybe even food Moon, while her daughter was living a potentially dangerous environment.

Secretkeeper left her daughter in alone in the rainforest for DAYS on end at a time since the night Moon HATCHED, with the only time she was able to be with Moon was for a few HOURS on the days she was able to be with her. That means that Moon, since the day she was literally BORN, was left for literal DAYS on end without the physical supervision of her own mother.

She was left alone for so long, in fact, that she literally had to LEARN how to HUNT for her own food HERSELF as a young dragonet, to the point that she became very good at it. Moonwatcher is 4 when she mentions this to Qibli, so there’s a good possible chance that due to her living situation, she had to hunt her own food when she was around ONE-THREE years old, around the same age that Anemone, or even MINK and DUSKY are right now!!!

And what really bothers me about this is the fact that Moonwatcher had to hunt for food and was left alone for the majority of her within the Rainforest - which is a potentially DANGEROUS environment to live in.

Like…think about it. The rainforest that the Rainwings live in is filled with POISONOUS frogs, that can make dragon unconscious, have hallucinations, and possibly even KILL you. There’s that also lots of hungry predators that could harm or even kill Moon, like Jaguars and Anacondas. And the rainforest also has dangerous parts within its environment, like quicksands, which are portrayed to be VERY dangerous in movie and/or book media, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re dangerous in wings of fire too, at least for a young dragonet who isn’t even a teenager yet. The rainforest has so very hazards, in fact, that there’s canonically a literal SCROLL written about the dangers of the rainforest within this series.

So imagine, a young 1-3 year old dragonet, being in risk of DYING from touching a poisonous frog or being eaten be a Anaconda while hunting for an animal or gathering fruit within the trees. Or Moon attempting to hunt her prey on the ground, in risk of her getting SCARRED or even EATEN by a Jaguar.

Moon has been left within the rainforest for so long to point that she had to search for food in a risky or even dangerous environment when she was the age of a literal CHILD.

So the fact that people don’t talk about, mention, or even possibly know about how bad Moon’s childhood probably was within the rainforest it is…quite sad and even a bit upsetting, honestly.

Of course, I do know that Secretkeeper didn’t have much of a choice of doing this to Moon, or at least knew it would be MUCH better if Moon lived in the rainforest alone, than living within the literal volcano instead.

Especially since leaving Moon to live within the rainforest is a much, MUCH better option than her living in a literal VOLCANO, an insufferable place where dragons gained severe asthma from, being forced to only eat only ONCE per week, with the only available food to eat being ROTTING prey that was alone for DAYS on end, and within the environment that is much more negative and controlling that living alone in the rainforest.

There’s also a good percentage of her that Secretkeeper did NOT even know about the dangers of the rainforest, due to the fact the Nightwing volcano is probably the ONLY place she ever lived or even knew about.

I’m also aware that Secretkeeper also didn’t visit Moon as much as she should within the rainforest because if she did so, there’s a good chance that Moon would be found and be FORCED to live within the volcano, and suffer living within the volcano along with the rest of the Nightwings.

HOWEVER, while this is true, it does NOT stop the fact that while Moon’s living situation within the rainforest is much better than what all the Nightwings had, it does NOT make her living situation - being physically NEGLECTED in a DANGEROUS environment - be ANY LESS bad as it is for Moon to go through.

It does NOT stop the fact that living within the rainforest ALONE for her ENTIRE LIFE until book 6 NEGATIVELY AFFECTED Moon, and that she was, indeed, was PHYSICALLY NEGLECTED since the day she was literally BORN, regardless of the context or reason to why this neglect happened and/or occurred. AND that fact that child neglect is a literally known to be a form of CHILD ABUSE, regardless if Moon’s mother wasn’t able to properly be there for Moon, or even possibly not having a choice on whether or not to NOT neglect Moon in this way.

And the saddest thing about this, is that there’s a possible chance that Tui did NOT fully realize that Moon, her very own character, living situation was as bad it was, since she didn’t explore Moon’s childhood trauma of living alone in the rainforest and how it currently affected her as much as other character’s - like Winter, Peril, Qibli, etc.,

Or at least not as much as how Secretkeeper telling and/or even possibly pressuring Moon to hide her powers or else other dragons would hate her for them, and Secretkeeper caring more about what dragons think about Moon without even considering or thinking about what Moon thinks about the other dragons she’s around.

I’m sorry that this confession is very, VERY long. I’m also very sorry if I had overreacted, overanalyzed, or overthought about any information within this confession.

I pretty much made this because I feel like people don’t at least mention that Moon’s childhood within the rainforest isn’t as great as some people might think, and/or not at least mentioned that Moon was unfortunately physically neglected - and maybe even mention that she was neglected within a potentially dangerous environment - regardless on whether or not Secretkeeper had a choice on doing so, or even if it possibly doesn’t count on whether or not Secretkeeper is actually a good mother to Moon or not, so I decided to make a this rant.

Thank you for everyone who went out of their day or night to read this confession and/or rant, and I hope you have a good day today :)

Anon asked me to include some images. They also noted that they have not read A Guide to the Dragon World yet.

Evidence of neglect

Evidence of the rainforest being dangerous

#wings of fire confessions #wof confessions #wings of fire #wof #moonwatcher #moonwatcher wof #secretkeeper #secretkeeper wof #child abuse #child neglect

181 notes · View notes

thatgirlwithasquid · 1 month

Text

twomp week : day 7

NOSTALGIC MEDIA CROSSOVER TIME!!! I have been so looking forward to this prompt. as I first put it on the list I knew that I’d be doing the first one of these, but upon sitting down to draw it I decided to do some more for the fun of it which is why im so late lmao

so, here’s Argos and Mr Plant drawn in my best approximation of the artstyles of shows I grew up on. all of these meant so much to me at one point or another and I still hold so much fondness for them :)

Monster High

I cannot hazard a guess at how many times I watched Monster High growing up. I adored the webseries so much even though the episodes were only, what, two minutes long? and I watched pretty much all those original movies. you will never catch me watching the remakes cause you cannot improve on perfection.

anyway wouldn’t it be fun to see these guys at Monster High? I think Argos would thrive there. Mr Plant would probably murder so many of them for being overly friendly though. I also find the idea of him being Venus’ cousin or something so funny for no real reason.

Winx Club

it is an unfortunate truth that the guys in winx club just did not look as good. the girls all had their stunning fairy designs and each went through so many iterations of their powers and designs as they reached new levels and the specialists were just… the specialists. but i still had to draw Argos and Mr Plant in their style cause I was BESOTTED with this show for so so long.

I was so dedicated to watching this series that I woke up early on school mornings and annoyed my parents into letting me eat my soggy coco pops sitting on the sofa so that I could watch the episodes when they came on the telly. it was definitely worth it <3

X-Men

the abrupt shift from pretty cartoons aimed at preteen girls to X-Men is kinda funny to me but I was also in love with this series too. I’d watch it before bed most nights and I just loved it so much. I wanted to be Jubilee so badly (looking back on it now, as I am currently rewatching the series, uh… girlie was not having the best time but I just wanted to be around the X-Men who I adored and idolised) and had the BIGGEST crushes on Gambit, Storm and Wolverine (in that order). I’ve been saying Spiderman is my favourite superhero for years but I may have to change my mind to Wolverine looking back on things…

but yeah. Argos and Mr Plant. I can see them as mutants. I know the low-hanging fruit for Argos’ abilities is enhanced vision cause of all his eyes but I’m actually thinking he gives people visions or dreams (that can become obsessive) like the dream plant. as for Mr Plant, I am gonna be boring and just say plant-based powers cause it feels right for him.

#the world of mr plant #twomp #argos twomp #mr plant twomp #twomp week #fanart

17 notes · View notes

hometoursandotherstuff · 2 years

Photo

Walked into my cousin’s house (he’s a firefighter) to find everyone trying to find out what it means when the firemen say, “A Collyer’s Mansion Situation.” No need to look, I knew it referred to the Collyer Brothers of New York City- the code for fire in a hoarder’s house. The picture above is of the police knocking down their door w/an axe.

It usually means it’s not safe to enter the building. In 1947, it took police 5 hours to plow thru the junk and find the first brother’s body. It took them 3 weeks to find the 2nd brother just 10 feet away, buried under a collapsed junk tunnel.

History’s worst hoarders, the tragic but fascinating tale of the Collyer brothers can speak to anyone with a penchant for collecting or thrifting. How did 2 prominent members of society end up sealing themselves off from the outside world, fiercely reclusive and entombed by over 140 tons of collected items?

Homer and Langley were both educated at Columbia University. Homer had a degree in law and Langley studied engineering and also became an accomplished concert pianist who performed at Carnegie Hall.

They had a normal childhood. They never married or lived on their own, & chose to remain at the family’s Harlem brownstone with their mother. When their parents died, everything was left to them..

In 1933, Homer went blind from eye hemorrhages. His younger brother quit his job to care for him full-time, which is when their withdrawal from society began. Langley began keeping years of newspapers so his brother could read them when his sight was restored.

In the midst of the Great Depression, the brothers became increasingly fearful of their own neighborhood, which was shifting from the upper-class area they had known to an area synonymous with poverty and crime.

People became curious, local kids threw rocks at the windows, increasing their paranoia. Langley boarded up the windows, removed the doorbell and wired the doors shut.

Several people attempted to burgle the home, which prompted Langley to construct booby traps and elaborate tunnel systems made of junk all around the house.

Langley ventured out only after midnight for food runs. He would collect countless unwanted and abandoned items on the street that caught his eye along the way.

When Homer became paralyzed due to rheumatism, the brothers refused to seek medical treatment. Even though their father was a Dr., they didn’t trust them. Instead, they decided to use their fathers medical library in the house.

Langley believed his brother’s sight could be restored with a diet high in vitamin C so he fed Homer 100 oranges a week. He adapted a Model T Ford to generate electricity after their power was cut off, along with their water and gas, due to unpaid bills.

When the bank came to evict them, police found Langley in a clearing he had made in the walls of junk. Without a word, he wrote a check for the equivalent of nearly $100,000 today to pay off the mortgage and ordered everyone off the property.

The next time authorities returned, it would be to search for the bodies of the Collyers. To enter the sealed brownstone, an officer broke a window on the second floor and climbed through.

Unable to get past the solid walls of junk, a squad of men began making their way through the debris by throwing out everything blocking their way onto the street. The spectacle drew a crowd of thousands.

After several hours, they found Homer’s body. Medical examiners later determined he had died of starvation and heart disease.

When they couldn’t find Langley, they thought he fled and launched a search. Finally, a workman found his decomposing body. He was buried in one of his 2ft. wide tunnels lined with rusty bed springs and a chest of drawers. He had died of asphyxiation after he accidentally tripped one of the booby traps and was crushed. Police believe that he was bringing food to his brother.

The house was deemed an unsafe fire hazard and was razed later that month in 1947. Some of their stuff went to museums and the rest was sold at auction. Since the 1960s, the site of the former Collyer house has been a pocket park, named for them.

messynesschic.com

#collyer brothers #famous hoarders #hoarding #historical hoarders #long post

473 notes · View notes

voraciousvore · 8 months

Text

Hot Chocolate

Ever imagine being a tiny on a freezing cold day, and sitting on a marshmallow in a cup of hot chocolate? :3

Winter-themed g/t vore oneshot below (2.1k words)

Content warning: soft, fatal, willing vore (an unusual combination, I know, but this is my version of comfort vore, as bleak as it may be)

Life was always hard for tiny people in a giant world, but this winter was especially brutal. The snow accumulated on the ground higher than we were tall, turning the landscape into a frozen white wasteland. Food was scarce as the plants withered and died into bare skeletons. The cold was bitter and biting, significantly worse than in previous years. Most of the time, us tiny folk would hole ourselves up in underground shelters with stashes of supplies and hope for the best until spring.

However, this year, calamity struck. A blizzard destroyed our shelter, ripped open our tunnels, and exposed us to the harsh elements. Wild animals raided our stores of salted meat, grains, berries, and nuts, and the flesh-eaters devoured many of our own before we could fight them off with sharpened spears fashioned from twigs. In the aftermath, most of us starved from lack of food or died from exposure. When a gigantic fox attacked us, I was separated from the rest of the group, and I returned to find my entire tribe demolished, their red blood still bright and fresh in the white snow.

I was alone, and I knew no matter how much I struggled, I probably would not survive the winter. I fought my internal despair as savagely as I fought the external world around me. The woods were a severe and unforgiving environment, full of life-threatening hazards and carnivores. My clothes were threadbare from snagging on thorns and branches, and failed to protect me sufficiently from the chill. I was hungry, tired, and cold—so horribly, painfully, agonizingly cold.

Without the support of my family, I realized there was only one place for me to go where I might have the slimmest chance to live. I desperately needed food, as well as clothing and tools that I lacked the skill to fashion on my own. I might be able to find some raw materials in the forest, if I got lucky, but supplies were more plentiful in the giant city nearby.

I dreaded going anywhere near the giants, though. They were extremely dangerous, miles tall, and aggressively hungry for any human morsels despite how ridiculously small we were compared to them. Despite us being no larger than the size of a giant fingernail, they viewed humans as special delicacies, and would typically eat any human they discovered without hesitation, purely for pleasure. They also possessed a keen sense of smell for hunting any humans that attempted to hide from them. Normally, I would avoid the giant city like the plague.

In this case, though, I was desperate. I didn’t know what else to do. So I left the relative safety and quiet emptiness of the woods for the hustle and bustle of the city. On my way there, I rubbed pungent herbs all over my clothes and body in the hopes that they would successfully conceal my scent. The snow would probably wash some of the smell off, but it was worth a try. Fluffy flakes fluttered down from the gloomy gray sky, and I picked up the pace so I wouldn’t get buried under layers of snowfall.

I emerged from the trees to a plain of white and gray. The silhouettes of titantic buildings far in the distance, speckled with yellow lights from the windows, gradually sharpened through the brumal flurries as I approached. When I finally reached the roads, I found them slushy and wet. I was splashed by frigid, dirty, salty water that chilled me to the bone whenever a gargantuan car roared past. The wetness saturating my clothes only added to my misery and made me freeze faster. I shivered uncontrollably as I watched my breath form visible puffs in front of my face.

I was reaching a point of no return: Either I would find salvation here, or perish a heartless death, with nobody to mourn me. As I trudged through the layers of snow and slush, I was having increasing difficulty forcing my legs forward. I kept having to brush piles of snow off my head and shoulders and shoes. My fingers and toes hurt as the winter frost nipped them with its icy teeth. I feared I would soon be frozen in place, like a statue carved from ice.

The fear in my heart exploded as I penetrated deeper into the city and the giant inhabitants stomped past me, bundled in thick layers of winter gear. Not too many of them were out and about, on account of the weather, but every towering colossus that came near me jolted my heart with terror. Their footsteps shook the earth, and their immense shoes splattered me with chilly droplets. While none of them detected the insignificant creature at their feet, I still feared being crushed into a red stain. I sank further into misery with every leaden step.

I had journeyed far, but I spied on the horizon a coffee shop that I believed would save me. If I could slip through the door, I’d be warm. I could find crumbs to eat on the floor. It’d be risky, but I might yet survive. I forced my legs, which were growing numb, to progress in a straight line. My hands and feet were blocks of ice by now, and my whole body was screaming in pain, but I kept moving. Just a little farther.

I was almost to the door, perhaps a few hundred feet away, when I found I could no longer move. No matter how much I internally screamed at my body to proceed, I was overwhelmed with agonizing cold. I collapsed with a shudder, curling up into a quivering ball. My consciousness was fading, but I strained to stay awake. If I passed out here, I’d never wake up again.

A shadow encompassed my vision. At first, I believed I was beholding the specter of death itself, until the looming figure crouched down over me, dwarfing me with its impossible size. A giant. A terrifying, bloodthirsty, man-eating giant. I was doomed. I couldn’t even scream or run with how frozen I was. I could only shiver as I saw in my peripheral vision a massive hand hover over me, until the tips of a gloved finger and thumb closed around me. I had been captured.

I felt a rush of vertigo as the giant stood up, and I ascended at a whirling speed to incomprehensible heights. I was blind, muffled by thick wooly fabric from his gloves. He released his hold on me and I plopped onto something plushy and warm that gently rippled beneath me like a boat in a lake. Heavenly heat radiated from below. I instinctively snaked my hand down, craving the warmth, but was met with a searing heat that made me jerk my arm back with a sharp yelp. My fingers stung with sharp pins and needles. Whatever the heat source was, it scalded me in my current half-frozen state.

The tepid warmth that did reach me wasn’t enough to thaw out my insides, but it helped to bring me back to full awareness. I opened my eyes and sat up, trembling, only to see I was sitting on a big, soft, white mass, surrounded by other identical fluffy cylindrical shapes, bobbing in a hot brown sea of sweet-smelling liquid. The realization hit me like a truck. I was sitting on a giant marshmallow, in a thick pile of other marshmallows, that were floating in a great big mug of hot chocolate.

I nearly fell backwards off my marshmallow perch into the boiling lake when the giant’s enormous face, like a mountainside, loomed over the lip of the mug and stretched high above me and outward in all directions. I had never seen a giant’s countenance up close, since their heads were usually so far up in the sky, so the sight was quite a shock. His skin was pale from the wintry bluster, but his nose and cheeks were flushed red. He was clean-shaven and looked to be in his 20s.

“Hey there, little one,” his voice boomed, like the voice of a god, making me flinch. “You look cold. Want me to help you warm up?” He spoke through a pair of vast, plushy, pink lips easily the length of six men. The steam of his breath felt divine on my icy skin. I was so miserably cold, to the point where I feared I may never experience a comfortable temperature again. I was sorely tempted. Without concern for the consequences, I nodded. I would do anything to be warm again, to not freeze to death.

His lips curved into a devious smirk. He tilted the mug as he touched the edge to his mouth and took a small sip. I couldn’t help but squeak in fear as the heap of marshmallows rushed towards the edge, carrying me with them.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” the giant teased. Raw terror pierced my heart as his mouth opened slightly, showing off massive white teeth that beckoned into an unfathomable darkness beyond. Even so, I was so, so fatigued from the unbearable cold that even now burrowed through my worn clothes, tearing at me with icicles for teeth. I couldn’t take it anymore; I just wanted to give in. The heat from the beverage, from the giant’s body, was so close, so tantalizing, yet just out of my grasp. I nodded again, sealing my fate.

The giant raised a thick eyebrow, curling his mouth into an amused smirk again, but obliged. The immense lips parted, showing a glimpse of the forbidden depths, yet the warmth of his internals drew me in like a moth to a flame. The mug tipped forward, and before I could regret my decision I was swept inside in a deluge of marshmallows and chocolate.

The mouth closed, cutting off the chill from the wind. The space within, encircled by walls of teeth, was easily as big as a living room. The warmth kissed me in a loving embrace like stepping into a sauna. The marshmallows dissolved underneath me into a sticky puddle, and the liquid from the beverage flowed down the gullet yawning in front of me, yet the giant kept me in his mouth. I lounged back on the huge fleshy tongue, soaking in the heat like a jacuzzi. It felt so good to finally give in, to give up, to no longer have to struggle through miles of snow. I should’ve been terrifed, but I was desperate for heat.

The tongue curled around me, massaging me against the rows of teeth and the roof of the mouth as it explored my flavor. As wonderful as the physical sensations were, my body tingled with prickles of pain as the numbness from the cold wore off and blood circulated to my extremities. Even with the heat flooding over me, along with a bath of saliva, I was still frozen in my core. I shivered violently. I needed more; the mouth couldn’t provide me with enough. I was greedy for heat.

In that moment, I stopped caring about anything else. I had nothing left in my life anyways; everyone I knew was dead; I just wanted to be warm and comfortable in my last moments, above all else. I crawled alongside the row of craggy white molars, sidling up to the red meat of the gums, sensing the pulse of hot blood through the flesh. Deeper inside, it would be warmer. I crept over the curve of the slimy tongue as I descended toward the throat. I slid down into the squishy chute, and it gladly received me, flexing tightly around my tiny body as the giant swallowed.

The throat squeezed tightly around me in a tender hug as it dragged me down to the internal depths. The pressure was strong, yet pleasant, kneading me down through his immense chest. His heartbeat throbbed in my ears, and the expansion of his lungs compressed me further as I slid down. I fell deeper and deeper until I eventually splashed into his stomach.

The infernal heat felt divine, enveloping me to the point where I was smothered. At long last, I was warm, blessedly warm, in gurgling heaven. I curled up and allowed the shifting walls to churn me up in the boiling fluid. Like a marshmallow in a cup of hot cocoa, I melted into the larger whole, blissfully free from my tormented existence.

32 notes · View notes

cere-mon-ials · 9 months

Text

2023 in kdramas

*that i finished

**in order of how deep and lasting the brainrot was/is from barely a smidge to stitched to my soul

[12] I figured See You In My 19th Life would be trying when I couldn’t understand why an extraordinary individual in her 18th life—18 incredible lives lived over some of history’s most happening centuries—would fixate on one pesky schoolboy. I bought it because (a) Shin Hye-sun was selling it (b) the show tried to make it clear that while she remembered her past lives, it is not the same as living the one she is in. So when the young Ju-won meets Seo-ha, she is still a 12-year-old who happens to fall for a 9-year-old, except she has heightened emotional maturity.

The plot follows Ju-won, who is reincarnated as Ban Ji-eum, her 19th life after her 18th was cut short in a car accident with Seo-ha. Then, the show fumbles its own logic, unable to choose if the real gift is living in the present or remembering how we got there. We are told that Ji-eum is determined to fix the life she didn’t get to live as Ju-won and because Ju-won’s family and Seo-ha are still alive, that’s who she seeks out. She also finds a dear one from her 17th life. The twist is that the 18th life was meant to be a fated reincarnation of two lovers, who in their time—the first life—were wronged. In the end, when the sins are atoned for, Ji-eum loses the memories of her past lives. She is Ji-eum, smart and talented, daughter of an abusive man and born destitute, free of karmic obligations. But who is this Ji-eum? Who does she love? Why are the memories of everyone who knew her as the extraordinary Ju-won/Ji-eum so valuable and hers isn’t? Milquetoast writing and a genuine lack of interesting characters in the rest of the show.

[11] I didn’t finish the first season of Dr. Romantic because I had a violent reaction (derogatory) to Yoo Yeon-seok’s character. I went straight to the additional episode ft. Kim Hye-soo who is ~flails~ and warmed up to this fantastic ensemble, thanks to a YYS-less sequel. Season 3 is ambitious and follows the raggity crew of overworked doctors in a country hospital now coping with its expansion into an elite trauma centre. The show does neither this premise nor the incredible cast they managed to bring back together (at least four of who could demand three times what they were paid in S2) any real justice. It had all the ingredients and an emotional core that is most pleasing to me. Seriously, it was so good: in reaching for the Michelin stars of healthcare, ostensibly Kim Sabu’s legacy, both he and his colleagues find that they may need to reassess what he taught them. Look at the implications. Doldam is a hospital that has run for two seasons on the strength of close-knit interpersonal relationships in ways (some might accuse) hazardous to professional codes. Something's gotta give.

DRR S3 does not trust the emotional tensions that these ideas can provoke and instead, throws in spectacle after spectacle. A bloodbath on a ship carrying illegal migrants, a raging forest fire, a building collapse. And there are villains, written as yangs to yings, in a main character's father played by an actual trash person, and then groan a politician. I mean, the vagaries of ill fortune and death is right there. Isn’t that enough? Makes you wonder just how did Lee-Shin partnership accomplish what they did with HosPlay. Someone who loves DRR’s characters will sit through it. But it’s junk food.

[10] Lee Bo-young is a force in Agency. It's a tried and tested formula: a brilliant creative person with abandonment issues in fantastic clothes. I enjoyed the snippy dialogues, peppered with refreshing metaphor and irony reminiscent of vintage Hollywood flicks. The writing isn’t confident about what it wants to say about an ambitious single woman in a workplace (and other women too including working mothers, women who find no need in dressing up to do their jobs, expert women who still have to struggle when they want to build something). But perhaps you, like me, can let it pass. It is not ideal to fetch a real answer to women’s struggles amidst capitalist excess.

[9] Our Blooming Youth begins with a cursed prince (Park Hyung-sik) and a noblewoman (Jeon So-nee) accused of murdering her entire family joining hands to free each other. Lurking behind is a national conspiracy spearheaded by several degenerate officials who wish to erase a people and their history—interesting that OBY and My Dearest later in the year featured the most marginalised being branded as traitors. The prince and noblewoman (cross-dressed as a eunuch of course) are joined by four young individuals who feel a sense of duty. I adored this band and their shenanigans. The show is kind to the youth in question, to their capacity to chase freedom and friendship. I was moved by such love for characters in this story about nationhood as an ongoing project.

But enjoying OBY means reading in between the lines because the show doesn’t know what to do with its 20-episode length or the depth of its interest in the scars of unacknowledged genocide. I felt impatient and unfulfilled more times than I’d like. I wish OBY was more meaty because it had the opportunity to be radical and chose to be inoffensive. Hyung-sik, very dear to me. So-nee, GOSH. I have loved her since Encounter (2018) and she fills a frame like nobody’s business. If there is such a thing as female gaze, she’s got it. I caught her in the little I watched of Soulmate (2023) recently. A marvel, just like Kim Da-mi.

[8] One Day Off is whimsical and celebrates the mundane in eight chapters following the wanderings of a school teacher, played by the luminous Lee Na-young. Japanese entertainment does discovering minor joys and its everydayness so well that it’s a genre in itself. I have seen it in a handful Korean variety shows too. As a drama, this is new to me and ODO felt special. It giveth in multitudes taking us to a monastery, an art exhibit, a film festival, a planetarium, many bakeries. At other times, it puts us in the middle of a rainy day and ancestral rites and a bus station where the teacher is stuck with condescending boomers. It's lovely.

[7] King The Land benefitted from low expectations of prestige. Junho lovers were tuning in to see him frolic after his Baeksang-winning performance as King Jeongjo, I can’t speak for Yoon-A lovers. The makers wanted to bank on these beloved actors and there is minimal friction between who they are and what they play on-screen. Junho, handsome, rich, kind. Yoon-A, pretty, hardworking, warm. There is a good chance that this show was part of a joint marketing campaign by Dior and Estee Lauder. And also, possibly, Thailand's tourism department. KTL is classic popcorn, easy on the eyes, easy on the mind (save for that irritatingly stupid arc with the ‘Arab prince’), designed to be innocuous. Here’s the thing, though: the cast and crew were not messing around with that dough. They chose to inject this fan + consumer service with an earnest desire to entertain missers of fluff romance. Lee Junho, permanent resident of my heart.

[6] Going in with low expectations helped when I watched My ID is Gangnam Beauty too. Kang Mi-rae is starting college with a new face, having shed her old one at the surgeon’s table because of life-long bullying at being conventionally unattractive. But Mi-rae now has to deal with gossip and judgement about the extents she has gone for what’s deemed as a vanity project. When Mi-rae says that it matters what people think of her, I can't object. It’s because Gangnam Beauty tells a story about familiar feelings and yet, it is also defiantly about Mi-rae. You can walk with her but you’re aware that not all of us walk in her precise shoes, and it’s not about measuring who’s having it worse either. I loved watching her settle into her skin, remaining compassionate in whatever is the opposite of noble idiocy.

Very sweet romance. I may not have noticed Cha Eun-woo if I hadn’t been derailed to the hilt by him in Island—also a show I finished but you will not find it on this list For Reasons.

[5] I wanted to love My Dearest a lot more. It was promising what with Namgoong Min as the perfect Lee Jang-hyun and Ahn Eun-jin as the perfect Yoo Gil-chae. NGM’s ability to smirk in a way that elicits both a punch and a blush is unparalleled. He owns the role of clever playboy merchant who sees the rules of polite society as impositions and who values human life above platitudes. AEJ's Gil-chae is stubborn and witty and audacious and has no interest in anything that distracts her from her desires. I loved them, and that became one of my problems when Part 1 ended. NGM is the perfect Jang-hyun and AEJ is the perfect Gil-chae but I wasn’t able to root for their romance. I never quite got over how the desire that they shared, which war put a damper on before it got a chance to bloom, gets cheapened at the end of Part 1—please read @elderflowergin's excellent post about this. In Part 2, that conversation isn’t adequately addressed but I was there to watch these two actors earn their Baeksang nominations. I found myself willing to move with the tides when Jang-hyun and Gil-chae let each other in after they learn to devote themselves to the people who make their community.

I cannot fault MD, however, on its commentary about how war disrupts ordinary life. There is nothing more moving in the show than the Joseon slaves in Qing singing their songs and harvesting rice, yearning for home while the King and his scholars commit to preserving standing and write these countrymen off. It’s a sharp critique of an upper class that delude themselves about their importance. MD is courageous enough to say that the nation does owe something to its people and the nation must prove itself worthy of sacrifice before it can demand such a thing. I haven’t stopped feeling the pangs of this love letter to a people and their land. The first seven episodes, set during the invasion and in the early days of the Joseon surrender, is real television. It’s what I watch sageuks for.

What else? Great telling of Crown Prince So-hyeons’s story. Lee Chung-ah is captivating. MD would have risen in my heart and on this list if it were more attentive to Ryang-eum. Double amnesia was comically exhausting to watch but I do feel generous now. The first time round Jang-hyun regains his memory because of a tangible article that proved Gil-chae’s love for him. The second time he traces back the arc of his life that spawned enduring memories of love and dreams. He’s not looking to retrieve what he doesn’t know he has lost. He knows he has lost and he is piecing together what he can. That’s a bold note to conclude on by makers who have risen to question the state of a nation in the hands of incompetence and cruelty and obscene pride. The racism is unsurprising—I wish this meant that I had better tolerance for it. I also wish the story knew better than to push Eun-hye to the sidelines. My favourite scene is Gil-chae finding Jang-hyun clawing to life by a string on a pile of corpses and proceeding to play dead while holding him tight to escape.

[4] I kept tuning in to Moving week after week despite my reservations about high school life, superheroes, and gore because it is a feat of storytelling. A rewarding first act, an absorbing second, and a near perfect third. It’s a compelling story on its own about superhero parents who will go to any lengths to protect their superhero children. But it’s also poignant in how it tackles passive peace.

Critiques of the state’s abuse of power often turn fangless in the face of this idea about national security, the notion that secures our future. Writers fumble because they feel forced to provide an alternative: how else do we protect what we must? Moving kills the question by letting you see past that what (national security) and takes you to a who (our children, our literal future). It dismantles the illusions with its central stage as a highly-surveilled school where undercover secret agents observe and train gifted children. The litmus test isn’t going to be the abstraction of a nation. It’s going to be whether our children can grow up, can learn, can be free to be who they want to be, irrespective of talents they may or may not possess.

A state which can’t imagine freedom as such is a failed state and a failed state resorts to joining hands with those who have every interest in keeping us from seeing that we do in fact want the same things as our neighbours. The real world bleeds in when the story of two Koreas becomes apparent. It’s acutely observed in a way that’s trope-y but perhaps not untrue. But the show is more interested in the shared Koreanness, in their love for their children, and for the unimpeachable desire to make their lives better.

Park Hee-soon had me hugging myself from his first frame to the last. Electrifying performance. Han Hyo-joo, oh my god.

[3] My Lovely Boxer was made for me. It’s about Gwon-sook (Kim So-hye), a boxing prodigy who disappeared from public eye after failing to show up for a championship game and Tae-young (Lee Sang-yeob), a ruthless sports agent at the cross hairs of matchfixing. Tae-young has messes to clean, payments to make, and he finds Gwon-sook to bring her back to the limelight for one final game to lose. Gwon-sook wants nothing to do with the sport and Tae-young promises that if disappearing for good is what she wants, then this plan would work for her too. It’s exactly as angsty as it sounds.

The show works because it doesn’t touch a thing that it isn’t willing to gnaw into. It doesn’t merely dangle matchfixing as plot omen—it explores the emotional and economic damages for the sportsmen with heft. Gwon-sook feels no love for boxing but she isn’t the only boxer in the world and that feeling is hardly universal. One of my favourite characters this year is Ah-reum, the opponent of that championship game for which Gwon-sook didn’t show up. That day, Gwon-sook may have chosen to leave the game for self-preservation but she also took away Ah-reum’s right to fair play. MLB is at its best when it navigates Gwon-sook seeking Ah-reum’s forgiveness because therein lies sportsmanship and what it means to tirelessly push your body for a shot at the ring. It’s an exhilarating journey with these two girls because (a) you want Ah-reum to have her moment (b) you don’t want Gwon-sook to lose and let the matchfixing bookers pocket money (c) you begin to wish Gwon-sook could win because she is too good. The stakes are delicious because the bookers are also a tad bit murderous and the final match had me at the edge of my seat.

Lee Sang-yeob was a shock to my system with his intense stare and a thespian interpretation of a man in shades of grey. Sexy bitch. I want to see Kim So-hye and Shin Se-kyung play sisters one day.

[2] Into The Ring tops my list of kdrama romcoms. Nana is a star and the fact that Se-ra cannot walk straight to save her life makes me giggle. She is blunt in the wrong ways, sharp in the wrong ways, and honest in all the right ways. Her heart is big and she has a sense of service to the people around her as though she really believes she was raised by a village. I loved Se-ra’s parents who reminded me of my own in their warmth and clownery. Park Sung-hoon’s Gong-myung is the dream guy: competent at work, loser in everything else. There’s only one kind of valid workplace romance and it’s this: accidentally becoming an elected representative and your childhood nerd friend volunteering to be your secretary to cover your ass. Perfect, no notes.

I happened to be reading Sara Ahmed’s Complaint! around the same time and I think it made me love the show's take on political action more. This is where Se-ra begins, just her and her complaint diary. That early episode where it dawns on her that she wants this job as much as she needs it got to me. There’s much to love in a show that is okay with however small a population she represents, as long as they are fun about joy and serious about justice.

[1] At the outset, Call It Love sounded like the makjang I avoid—a relationship between a woman and the son of her father’s mistress? Turns out, it's possible to tell that story like an accomplished spare poem with meticulously composed frames overdoing headroom and pared down dialogues. In effect, CIL is beautiful to look at and inviting to spend time with. This is kdrama caviar. Debut writer Kim Ga-eun has a gift for writing loneliness and solitude as not mutually exclusive to being a loved and loving person. She’s drawn comparisons to the extraordinary Park Hae-young who is the master at this sorcery. To my mind, the comparisons hold merit in subject but they operate with different intentions and styles. I hope they meet one day and I get to be a fly on the wall.

I was struck by how Lee Sung-kyung played Woo-joo as the responsible middle child, the one most burdened by the timing of her family’s collapse. The show is about her revenge but often, you see her struggle with the coldness this demands of her. She cannot resist what comes easiest to her and that’s her ability to see people having bad times as a reflection of the times, not the people. It's why she can forgive the aggrieved man who harms her, and why she tidies Dong-jin’s ex’s house while the ex is recouping from the heartbreak of losing the same man she is falling in love with.

No one has gotten the allure of the quiet guy, the shy guy, the good guy who is too awkward to be nice like Kim Young-kwang has. Dong-jin knows he has to work very hard to keep up with the pace of the world. He knows his mind but is afraid to impose it, because he doesn’t think it matters and because he doesn’t want to be a bother. Young-kwang just gets that line between clarity and low-esteem. I will never forget his teary eyes and total submission to loving Woo-joo in the single word he lets out with a hitched exhale. He slouches a lot but he will look you in the eye when he has to say something he doesn’t want to repeat. I loved him for that dignity. Special kisses to him for ditching neck ties.

It is true pleasure to see two male leads, majestic and towering in physique, composed to look tiny and frail. At one point, the costume department steps up Woo-joo’s wardrobe as her feelings intensify and it doesn't come across as a makeover. It is presented as the ordinary consequence of paying attention. I loved everything and everyone. The siblings. The ex-girlfriend, the bad mother and also, the generous & kinda clueless one. The stepfather who lingered, the best friends, the loyal & competent manager lady. Favourite kiss.

I am currently watching four dramas: A Good Day To Be A Dog (cute & fun), My Demon (silly & fun), Park's Marriage Contract (testing my patience), and Tell Me That You Love Me (relishing but for some reason not investing). I missed Not Others and The Eighth Sense when they were airing and they are the two shows from 2023 that I am adding to my watchlist. I am looking forward to 2024 because we seem to be getting at least one release from several greats and beauties. See you then! I hope no one emails you for the rest of the year and you eat well.

#call it love #into the ring #my lovely boxer #disney moving #moving #mbc my dearest #my id is gangnam beauty #gangnam beauty #king the land #one day off #our blooming youth #jtbc agency #dr romantic 3 #see you in my 19th life #kdrama #notes #2023 in review #kdrama in review

45 notes · View notes

tcfactory · 10 months

Text

Party Planning and Other Deadly Hazards I

5k words of Shang Qinghua bonding with Linguang-jun over being overworked and underappreciated

For the sake of this story, Mobei is roughly 15, Shang Qinghua and Linguang-jun are both 18. Shoutout to @mysteryteacup, whose analysis posts convinced me of the potential in "Linguang-jun is Very Young, Actually". Our Mobei-jun's birth name is Mobei Xuebao (Snow leopard), Shang Qinghua is Shang Cangshu (Hamster), Linguang-jun is Mobei Taifeng (Typhoon)

Also on AO3.

It all started with a small change. You see, Shang Qinghua's shizun made a reckless promise that whoever could push a medicine deal through with the Black Mire Sect - a minor sect skirting the edge of demonic practices by specializing in gu poisons - would take over as his new head disciple. The sect was situated right on the borderlands between the human realm and the northern demon kingdom and they were very reluctant to trade away any of their precious poisons, because they faced constant harassment from a lesser tribe of Snowtusk Boar demons just on the other side of the border. Clearly whoever could get them to agree to a deal would have to be a naturally gifted negotiator!

Usually Airplane ignores these kinds of risky assignments, but the temptation of skipping three years of backstabbing, social climbing and manual labor was too tempting. Besides, he knew how to solve this one. It was one of the wife plots in PIDW so Luo Binghe could marry the sect leader's beautiful daughter.

Step 1: Get rid of the boars. He could, of course, not do this on his own. No way. However, through the power of authorial knowledge, he could tip Mobei-jun off that the tribe stole one of the ancient artifacts of the Mobei clan after a chaotic battle and hid it away in their stronghold. His prince was a little skeptical, but Qinghua had not led him astray yet in the few months since he became his spy. The next time they met, Mobei-jun was generously splattered with pig demon blood and he was proudly holding a crystal necklace that could control all the ice sheets of the northern sea at once, apparently.

So that was that for the boars.

Step 2: Wait a little for the other local demon tribes to fight out who gets to settle in the newly vacated prime location. Shang Qinghua made a passing comment about how the Silkwing tribe could supply a 'generous benefactor' with the highest quality fabrics in the entire northern kingdom and would you look at that, this conflict got resolved much quicker than in PIDW.

Step 3: Introduce the sect leader and their new, much more agreeable, demon neighbors to each other. The Silkwing tribe happened to be a tribe of crane demons who, just like the Black Mire Sect, specialized in insect keeping. Their most prized specimens were the various demonic moths and spiders they cultivated for their silk, but they kept a wide variety of other critters as well. It was a match made in heaven! (Or rather in one of Master Airplane's caffeine fueled all-nighters, just so Binghe could meet a cute bisexual crane girl at the negotiations and turn the whole adventure into a two-brides-special wedding.)

Step 4: Profit! Trade agreement in hand Qinghua showed up at his shizun's house and received his much deserved promotion. The whole plan went off without a hitch, job well done, success and happiness all around! The next morning he moved into the head disciple's apartment and breathed a sigh of relief that he no longer had to live in fear of someone discovering his association with Mobei by barging into his bedroom without knocking.

If only that was the end of it.

-----

Shang Qinghua has barely settled into his new duties as head disciple when one morning Mobei-jun grabs him straight out of bed, before he could comprehend what's happening or put on some actual clothes, and drops him off somewhere in the Northern Palace.

"Baobao, what in the fresh hell did you bring me?!"

The outrage cry comes from a stressed looking demon youth who stares at Qinghua like someone handed him a dead rat instead of a report. He's obviously a Mobei relative, his black hair glossy with a blue-ish sheen and his demon mark a bright teal, but his hair is done up with feathers and beads in the style of the wind demon tribes.

"Qinghua. He's good at organizing." As if on second thought, Mobei-jun snarls at the other demon boy, showing all his teeth. "He's mine. If you hurt him, I'll kill you."

After that he wordlessly stomps away, leaving the equally confused human and demon behind.

Shang Qinghua wants nothing more than to ask a million questions right now - where is he? why did Mobei take him here?? who's the other guy??? - but now that he's more awake than asleep he's suddenly realizing that the room is extremely cold and he's only dressed in his sleeping robes. Are his toes turning blue?! His toes are probably turning blue.

"Here." A delicately carved box is shoved in his face, open and full of uniform black pills. "Aurora Pepper pills. I asked to borrow the domestic staff from Xiao Bao’s castle, but if you are the only help I get, I want you not to freeze to death."

"My lord, are they safe for humans?" They should be. It's one of the plot devices he made up so the Wives could visit the North and still wear their ridiculously skimpy outfits without dying, but who knows what an ice demon would have mixed into them. Shang Qinghua carefully picks just one and pops it in his mouth anyway.

"No idea, they were for my mother. You are a cultivator, are you not? You can survive a little poison."

If this demon is as young as he looks - as young as his outfit leads Qinghua to believe, which is somewhere between fourteen and twenty - then his core is not yet settled. Even if the ice demon parentage runs stronger in him - which is obvious, he's wearing the equivalent of summer robes for northern demonkin - he would have bouts when his core slants towards wind and he would find the cold of the north unbearable for a few days. So this is likely his own stash of pills he offered one from, which is awfully nice when one of your kin just dumps their human on you.

"This lowly one thanks the young master for his generosity!"

"Hmph. At least you have manners, unlike your master." The youth retreats behind a desk piled so high with scrolls and bamboo slats he’s barely visible behind them. "Qinghua, was it? This lord is Linguang-jun."

"Answering, this one is Shang Qinghua, head disciple of An Ding peak." He thanks his survival instinct that he manages to fold into a bow before his surprise shows on his face. Based on the nephew abandonment incident he always pictured Mobei's uncle as someone much older.

"An Ding? Good. Maybe you will be of use, after all." Linguang-jun gestures for Shang Qinghua to join him at the desk. "On account of his sudden spirited showing in regards to the Silkwings and the recovered artifact, my royal brother has finally taken interest in his third-born son. To welcome him to court he ordered a feast to be held, the success of which will determine Mobei San's standing in court and reflect on this lord’s qualifications as an organizer."

"Forgive this lowly one for the question, but why is the Mobei-jun's own brother in charge of such affairs? It should be the duty of the royal seneschal." Or perhaps the queen consort. Since he never had to write a wife plot with any member of the main Mobei clan he might have handwaved a lot of the court related worldbuilding. Still, he's certain there were at least three or four people who had to be unavailable before such a task would land on the desk of the king's brother.

"This lord is the seneschal," Linguang-jun says in a dejected voice. A pained frown slips past his not-yet-perfected mask of stoicism and Shang Qinghua realizes that 1. Linguang-jun is very, very young to be filling this position and 2. he’s probably one stroke of misfortune away from an anxious meltdown. This Qinghua can relate, kid. "My royal brother's temper has decimated his household and, in his paranoia, he refuses to replace the staff he kills. Ever since this one's mother passed three years ago, he has been tasked to fulfill every duty pertaining to household management, including those of the late queen consort."

After looking over a crumpled scroll detailing all of Linguang-jun's current duties, Shang Qinghua has a sudden understanding why the demon resents his brother so much. It’s not just the duties of the royal seneschal, he is doing the work of at least five different people, all of them near full-time jobs in their own right!

"Sorry kid, you are clearly too young for this shit." He didn't mean to say it out loud, but luckily for him the demon doesn't react to the irreverent tone beyond an agitated twitch of his eyebrows. "All right, let’s see what we have to work with."

It proves to be very little. Shang Qinghua looks over the list of the available staff (too short), the amount of food and other supplies Linguang-jun managed to drum up since his brother saddled him with this task last evening (not nearly enough to feed the obnoxiously long guest list) and the time available to them…

“He wants you to put together this party in three days?!” For someone who had only been a vague shadow with malicious intent in the back of Shang Qinghua’s mind whenever he thought about the dangerous demons he might run into while serving his prince, Linguang-jun is rapidly gaining a lot of his sympathy. “Can you even get all these guests here in three days? Jiuzhong-jun lives two months away even if he takes the fastest horses!”

For a royal prince’s introduction to court it was important to get as many of the bigshots present as possible, so they could all take a good look at him and decide if they wanted to try to sic their own spawns on him for a courting chase or not. Jiuzhong-jun doesn’t have any children yet, but he has plenty of nieces he could try to marry out into other clans. He would never miss the chance to come and gawk at the introduction of a Mobei prince.

“Mhm. Xiao Bao has that part covered. While we make this feast happen somehow, he’s going to spend the next two days transporting in all the guests with his portals.” Linguang-jun digs into one of his many piles of scrolls and shoves one detailing the scheduled arrivals into Shang Qinghua’s face. “At least the issue of housing them until the party solves itself on its own. Granny Oxbones is the reigning queen of the guest wing and she wouldn’t accept my input on where to put all these guests even if I bothered to offer any.”

Airplane carefully files it away in the back of his mind that when Linguang-jun gets stressed enough he still refers to his nephew with familiar nicknames as something to consider later, and tries to focus on the task at hand. So the current Mobei-jun hasn’t eradicated all of the old servants - the kitchen and housekeeping staff escaped his paranoia, as well as most of the guards and the hunters - only the ones in the highest positions. That should solve at least part of their problems.

“Okay, so we only have to handle decorating the feasting hall, source a fitting outfit for my prince and get the food ready.”

“What about the serving staff? I don’t have enough people to cater a party this big.”

“That’s easy, have the guardsmen fill in. Let them do something more than standing around and gawking. If there are complaints about the task being below them, tell them that they can take from the leftovers, most of the guests will be too busy brawling or scheming to eat anyway.” Demons love to eat, same as everybody, and even a bite or two of the delicacies served at their lords’ table should be ample temptation to get the guardsmen on board. “But this does mean that we need to make sure that the food is great. Does Linguang-jun have the menu from either of the elder princes’ introduction feasts? No reason to break our brains coming up with something new, nobody will care as long as the food is good enough.” It’s still an awful amount of work for three days, but it’s not undoable if he can tap into the Mobei clan’s supply network and doesn’t have to account for whatever happens to the guests before and after the feast.

“I think I have the menu for Mobei Er’s feast somewhere.” Linguang-jun abandons the desk to rifle through one of the filing cabinets dominating the walls of his study. “We will need to substitute some of the dishes, because that feast was in winter.”

“Still better than having to write the whole menu from scratch.”

“En.”

“Does Linguang-jun have any suggestion where to get my prince a suitable outfit?” For the lack of anything better to do, Shang Qinghua starts organizing the scrolls left on the desk. Linguang-jun’s handwriting is very similar to Mobei San’s, but nothing at all like the blocky characters of the current Mobei-jun. They probably learned from the same ice fairy tutor, which further confirms how absurdly close they are in age.

“I have something arranged with the Silkwings,” Linguang-jun calls back over his shoulder, halfway disappearing into the cabinet as he digs among the stored scrolls. “But - Hah! Found it! - Qinghua has to be the one to convince Mobei San to go. He won’t go anywhere if this uncle tells him to.”

“Ah.”

“Don’t just gape at me,” Linguang-jun says, smacking him reasonably lightly over the shoulder with the scroll until he gets the hint and takes it. “Take this down to the kitchen, then tell your master that if he doesn’t want to go to his own feast wearing my old robes, then he should go visit the Silkwings, the sooner the better.”

Shang Qinghua pales at the idea of wandering the main Northern Fortress alone. “I- this servant worries that the kitchen staff will not heed his words…”

Linguang-jun seems to consider this for a moment, but he finally comes to the conclusion that his life is easier if his nephew’s pet cultivator doesn’t come to harm. He digs around in his desk until he produces a bone hairstick with a bead and a feather dangling from it. “If you wear this, the staff will know that you are working for this lord. Ask a maid for directions and be quick about it!”

True to Linguang-jun’s words, the staff is nothing if not cooperative once they realize that Shang Qinghua is working directly with him to stop the upcoming party from crashing and burning. The demon aunties and uncles running the kitchen fill him in, between tallying all the ingredients they are going to need for the feast and plying him with sweet treats, that the staff has been in a panic ever since the first orders about the feast came in. There is the grim threat of death hanging over their heads if the end result isn’t impressive enough and Mobei-jun feels humiliated by their showing. Apparently this is going to be the first bigger event Linguang-jun is organizing on his own, without the help of his late mother, and his staff is worried about sabotage.

“Does Linguang-jun have many enemies in court?” Shang Qinghua asks, lifting a tiny demon granny up so she can take stock of one of the too tall ingredient shelves.

“He has one and it’s more than enough! Mobei-jun never got over it that his late queen mother birthed one more son after the acceptable period for fratricide was over.” Airplane was proud of that world building detail. Obviously no demon lord wants to have any relative who might challenge his claim, but eradicating the entire extended family is a very fast way for a clan to die out. So, following a leader’s grab of power, there’s a socially acceptable five years when they can murder any relative they can catch, but once that’s over they are expected to limit themselves to those who challenge their position. “I tell you, daozhang, it’s not a coincidence the feast is happening when the hunters are away and we are low on supplies! And what is the king doing instead of procuring a beast for the fighting showcase of his son? Drinking and lazing around in his quarters, that’s what! Poor Xiao Bao, such a sweet snowflake, this old granny worries that his entry to court will be ruined!”

-----

Shang Qinghua is still turning that around in his head when he goes to find Mobei Xuebao later - It took almost no effort to get the grannies to reveal his prince’s birth name. Such a cute name for such a fierce demon! Airplane jokingly wrote it on the margin of his drafts, but he never expected the System to take it and run with it - carrying a big mug of fortifying ice slushie.

His prince looks beyond exhausted after opening portals all over the demon realm since morning and he accepts the refreshing drink without so much as a growl. He does, however, hiss angrily at Qinghua when he recognizes the hairstick stuck into his bun. “How dare he claim you?! You are mine !”

“Ah, my prince, please be calm! It’s only a token so the staff won’t eat me. I am to return it once we are done here.” Qinghua is actually not sure about that, but better not aggravate his prince when he’s in a possessive mood.

“You’d better.” He stops trying to rip it out of Qinghua’s hair, but he still stares at it angrily while Shang Qinghua rattles off the details of the arrangement made with the Silkwings. Mobei shows no enthusiasm for getting new court robes tailored, but at Qinghua’s insistent nagging he makes an affirmative sound that yes, he is going to go, now stop asking .Airplane is not perfectly sure what the kitchen aunties put in the slushie, but Mobei’s mood almost thaws by the time he eats the last of the sweet berries they added to it. A wonderful good mood that lasts for all of five minutes before Linguang-jun turns the corner and yells at both of them.

“What are you still doing here?! Don’t you have things to do other than standing around?” Linguang-jun is flushed a pale pink from exertion and possibly frustration. He’s dressed for a hunt, carrying a Japanese style longbow almost as tall as him and a quiver of elegant, black-feathered arrows. It’s fascinating to see how Airplane’s throwaway details got implemented into the world - he made a passing note that Mobei’s grandmother was an eastern wind demon, then he made one of Binghe’s wives a wind demoness based on a Japanese princess and bird motifs and poof! The world combined these two details into multicultural Linguang-jun. He has to bite his tongue before he could ask Linguang-jun if he had a katana somewhere.

Mobei is clearly not happy to see that his uncle is gearing up to leave.

“Good time for a hunt, uncle,” he sneers. Linguang-jun sneers right back.

“ I am going out to fetch our hunting expeditions back so we have meat to serve at the feast. Someone has to, unless Baobao would prefer to play pretend with snow and ice and berries!” They both flinch, which is interesting. Clearly that’s a reference to a formerly fond memory. When Linguang-jun continues he’s not meeting their eyes and looks just a little sheepish. “Go get your rags, nephew. My reputation rides on the success of this feast. I’m not going to sabotage it.”

It’s hard to tell what Mobei Xuebao is thinking, but his expression seems a lot less murderous than a minute ago. “Take Qinghua with you,” he says, ignoring completely the way his cultivator freezes up. “He has a sword. He can fly high and scout for you.”

What is this? It almost sounds like an olive branch! If only it wasn’t poor Airplane being handed over like a cheap token of reconciliation, it would be great .

Linguang-jun gives Shang Qinghua a hesitant look, but Mobei chose a good way to sell his pet cultivator: Linguang-jun might be part wind demon, but even he can’t fly very high. Give Qinghua one more of those pepper pills so he doesn’t freeze in the icy wasteland and he can track their hunters down in a snap!

Before he can mount an argument about the general fragility of humans and the dangers of the desert, he is grabbed by the arm and the next thing he knows, he’s being swept up by Linguang-jun’s black wind. Nothing can compete with Mobei’s portal powers in terms of speed, but this is not too shabby either, and unlike the shadow portals, being turned into wind doesn’t make him sick. Perhaps because he doesn’t currently have a stomach to feel sick.

While they dash through the desert, Linguang-jun quickly fills Qinghua in: they need to recall three hunting parties, all of them within a day’s travel by horse from the castle. “There are others out hunting, but they are too far to make it back for the feast. And after we are done, I’m going to leave you somewhere out of the way and catch a Diamond-Clawed Tundra Devil.”

“Ah. For the fight showcase?”

“En.”

“Isn’t it the king’s duty to procure whatever his son is to fight?” His question is met by minutes of sullen silence so he startles when Linguang-jun finally deigns to speak again.

“There’s a wolf-bear-hybrid prepared at the palace. Da-ge wanted to give it to one of his concubines as a pet, but the lady has much better taste than to take a mangy mutt like that.” Qingua can’t see Linguang-jun’s expression, but the derision is obvious in his voice. It’s unclear if it’s directed at the concubine or his brother. “It would be acceptable prey for a less skilled prince, but Xiao Bao deserves better.”

“Huh. You really adore your nephew, don’t you? I figured he was wrong about you.” If he lives to tell the tale, Shang Qinghua is going to blame his current immaterial state for the failure of his brain-mouth filter. Never startle the person carrying you at high speeds!

He’s not even surprised when he tumbles painfully onto the snow, Linguang-jun standing above him with a murderous expression, the bow raised as if he’s ready to beat the hapless cultivator with it. “Does he still go around telling everyone about- even his pet cultivator?!”

“No! No, my lord!” He suspects it’s only because Mobei San doesn’t consider Qinghua important enough to fill him in about his backstory, but it’s technically true. “Servants gossip! I heard it from the servants in Mobei San’s castle!”

Linguang-jun lowers the bow, but his face colors with either indignation or embarrassment. He’s more expressive than Mobei, but it’s still not easy to read him. “Good. Do not ever dare to gossip about this lord! Understood, you, you…” He looks at Shang Qinghua sitting in the snow like a plump, bruised peach, face almost disappearing into the soft pelt the kitchen aunties dressed him up in. “You hamster!”

Airplane can’t help himself: he laughs. Then, when the laughter finally feels like subsiding, he notices the baffled face Linguang-jun is making and laughs some more. “Forgive me, my lord. I am not laughing at you. Except. My name does happen to be Shang Cangshu.”

The absurdity of it all finally douses Linguang-jun’s rage and the demon huffs a laugh. “Of course it is. Should I get a bowl of sunflower seeds for you tomorrow, hamster-daozhang?”

“I prefer melon seeds! But worry not, my lord, I can bring my own.” It must be a good sign that Linguang-jun is teasing him. A little bit of harmless farce is always good in anxiety-inducing situations, and the demon appeared to be on the verge of exploding all day. “I do have to wonder, though… I heard that when that incident happened, Mobei San was around four? So you must have been a rather young child yourself.”

Linguang-jun gives a tense, awkward nod and a scene starts to unfold in Airplane’s mind. This is not something he had written, but it is something he could have, if he ever tried to put Mobei-jun in the limelight for a while. Emboldened, he continues: “Traveling at the speed of wind as you do must not leave a lot of room to change course if, say, a tear to the human realm suddenly opens up in front of you. It must have been a terrifying experience, for both of you. Easy to lose track of each other in an unfamiliar world, hostile territory or not.”

Linguang-jun turns his head away, clearly trying to school his expression into a blank mask, but he is too worn down and anxious to manage it. He looks disarmingly young like this; just a teen with too much work on his plate. “He refuses to so much as speak to me unless he has no other choice. What does it matter how it happened? I admitted to trying to kill him.”

Of course he did. For Mobei San to survive an assassination attempt - a smart one too, leaving him in the heart of a cultivator sect that has a longstanding feud with the Mobei clan - was a testament to his talent even at such a young age. If Linguang-jun admitted that it was an accident, it would have only painted him as incompetent, which was the fastest way to political suicide even before he could officially get into court. “Ah, but he lent you this servant, hasn’t he? I think my prince doesn’t hate you as much as he wants to.”

“Hah! That will not save my neck when my nephew becomes Mobei-jun and comes to eradicate the threats from the family.”

“No! He would not kill you, I’m certain of it.” As he wrote it, Mobei-jun at the time of his ascension was secure under Luo Binghe’s wing and didn’t bother to go after any of his relatives - unless they attacked first, that is. “Leave it to this Qinghua, I will smooth this misunderstanding over in no time!”

The look of doubt Linguang-jun gives him almost hurts. “Wait until after the feast before you try. I’m short enough on staff without you getting yourself killed.” The demon makes a sharp gesture with his hand and a burst of wind pushes Shang Qinghua to his feet. “Up you get, hamster-daozhang. We have work to do.”

It all falls in place like a well-oiled machine after that, even the hunt. Turns out that Diamond-Clawed Tundra Devils are really fascinated by flying cultivators for some reason. The beast stands on its hindlegs, reaching fruitlessly for the flying sword, and doesn’t even notice Linguang-jun sneaking up on it until he traps it in a qiankun box. They work well together, Shang Qinghua and Linguang-jun, and the demon stays cordial - almost friendly, even! - to his nephew’s pet cultivator in the following two days.

-----

“I’m so glad that it went well, my prince!” Qinghua sighs a few days after the feast. He’s trying to subtly rescue some of his paperwork from Mobei, who decided that he wants to have this conversation while sitting on his human’s desk. “I wish I could have been there to see, but my shizun would have noticed if I was missing any longer and, let’s be honest, the chances of someone mistaking me for a side-dish were much too high…”

Mobei hums something vaguely positive, then very indulgently lifts one of his hands so Qinghua can remove the papers from there. “Good work.”

“Thank you, my prince! But I really didn’t do much. Your uncle did most of the work.” By the end of the third day Linguang-jun was openly bemoaning that he wanted to go to bed and sleep for a century. Airplane can only hope he got some rest since.

Mobei Xuebao growls at him in warning, clearly not happy with the direction of the conversation, but Qinghua has dealt with so much shit in the last week that he’s too tired to be properly intimidated by empty threats. “No, really! I know he had a horse in this race, but he really wanted you to have a cool ‘welcome to demon court’ party. He caught the Tundra Devil for your fight and he certainly didn’t have to do that!”

“That was Taifeng-shushu?” There’s no better way to describe Mobei’s expression of surprise than ‘cute’. It’s a good reminder that despite his frosty disposition and already powerful physique, Mobei Xuebao is also still a teenager. (Airplane is not geeking out over learning Linguang-jun’s name, he is not . Mobei Taifeng was on his list of potential names when he brainstormed for Luo Binghe’s right hand man, before he even started writing - a character who eventually got split into Mobei-jun and the OG Shang Qinghua, because Tired™ second-in-commands who try to betray their employers so they could have one good day of rest please were more of a comedic relief trope and that didn’t fit the tone of the story.)

“Yes, my prince. This servant was there when Linguang-jun chose and captured the most impressive beast from the pack.” He was so picky about it too! He made Qinghua fly over the Tundra Devil pack five times before he identified the biggest one and by that time the beast noticed the flying cultivator. That’s how they found out about its fascination with the shiny spiritual sword.

Thinking about Linguang-jun reminds Qinghua of the hairstick he conveniently ‘forgot’ to return. He puts it in a plain box and pushes it to Mobei Xuebao. “My prince, I had no chance to return this to Linguang-jun, so you would do this servant a great favor if you passed it along.” Mobei makes a soft noise as he pockets the box, looking almost smug that Qinghua is, indeed, returning the token. His good mood makes the human a little reckless about how far he’s willing to push this matter. “My prince, I know you have no reason to trust this servant on matters of your family, but I have heard many rumors and hearsay while in the Northern Palace. I think there might be a misunderstanding between you and your uncle, so if you could talk to him openly when you return the hairstick-”

“Qinghua has not led me astray so far,” Mobei interrupts, his eyes narrowed. “This prince will talk to his uncle. But if Qinghua is mistaken…” He lets the sentence hang ominously in the air, but the sentiment is clear: if Shang Qinghua is wrong, then all of his credibility is ash.

“I understand, my prince.”

It's going to be fine. It has to be! Otherwise the System would have interfered, like it always does when he's about to alter the plot.

Right, System?

#svsss #linguang-jun #mobei-jun #shang qinghua #making up world building like master Airplane intended #tc writes #fun fact: I had to fight the autocorrect every step of the way bc it wanted to 'correct' hairstick into hair tick #not remotely the same thing #please don't #I already have a follow-up for this in the works btw #to the tune of #how do you fix a sick ice demon so your other ice demon doesn't freak out and break your neck? without your shixiongs finding out?#the answer is you don't #nothing gets past Mu-shixiong #so you just grin and bear it and sigh to the heavens when it turns into a wife plot #because of course it does #anyway please go check mysteryteacup out their writing and meta are chef kiss #thousand times better than anything I do honestly

36 notes · View notes

withlove-amber · 6 months

Text

That Peach Dress

alden parker x reader

Finally, girls night. (Y/N) had been looking forward to girls night with Jessica and Kasie for the last week. She even went shopping for a new dress, just for the occasion. She tried 3 different stores before she found the dress she wanted. When she first saw it in the display window, she made a beeline for the rack where the dresses were, and found the last one in her size. She immediately tried it on, and felt like a supermodel. The dress was much shorter than she was used to wearing, but she knew she looked hot. She cringed a little when she looked at the price tag, but she did just get paid extra for overtime and hazard pay. So if this is how she wants to spend her money, then on an expensive dress it shall be.

Last weekend they were supposed to go out, but Kasie canceled last minute, and halfway through, Jessica got food poisoning. (Y/N) stayed with Jessica to make sure she was okay, and Jessica felt so bad for ruining the night. (Y/N) was a smidge disappointed in the direction the night went, but (Y/N) ultimately wanted to make sure her friend was okay. So this girls night, everyone was ready and excited. (Y/N) had styled her hair into a high ponytail and curled the bottom section of her hair. She kept her makeup relatively simple, with a winged liner, some bronzer, and a nude lip. The finishing touches to her look was a diamond choker Kasie had given her as a gift, and silver heels.

Jessica had texted her saying her and Kasie were on their way. She couldn’t wait for the night to begin. But unfortunately, crime never stops, not even on a girls night. ‘Ding dong!’ (Y/N)’s doorbell sounded off, and thinking it was the girls, she said, “Damn bitch, you got here fast!” But when she opened the door, it was not the girls, it was Alden Parker. Her boss, and the man she had been in love with since he took over from Gibbs as team lead. (Y/N) instantly froze, and so did Parker. Never in a million years did he think he would see her dressed in something so provocative, yet there she was standing at her door, with eyes as wide as can be. “What’s up?” (Y/N) barely managed to squeak out. “We got a case. I thought I’d save some time and pick you up on the way there.” Parker replied, trying not to make it obvious that he really liked the outfit she was wearing.

“Sounds good, um, let me just change and I’ll be back in a minute.” (Y/N) said, swiftly making her way back to her bedroom to change, and trying to avoid eye contact with Parker. While she changed clothes into something a little more work-appropriate, she also texted Kasie and Jessica to let them know girls night was canceled. When she emerged from her bedroom, she could barely make eye contact with Parker. Needless to say, the drive to the crime scene was quiet, as well as the banter between the two, which was not the norm. The first thing that Torres said when he saw (Y/N) was, “Damn, (Y/N), you look hot!” “Thanks, Nick.” (Y/N) replied, trying to pretend like the last 35 minutes didn’t happen. What (Y/N) failed to notice when she was walking to ask Jimmy what he had found, was the jealous look in Parker’s eyes when Torres had commented on (Y/N)’s outfit.

The outfit (Y/N) had changed into was a pair of black jeans, black boots, and a black denim jacket. She made the dress into a shirt by tucking the extremely short hem into her jeans. Kasie and Jessica had said something along the lines of, “Damn, look at you, (Y/N)! You look hot!” mirroring what Torres had said earlier that night. Parker couldn’t stop staring at (Y/N), no matter how hard he tried. He kept thinking about the way she looked in that peach dress. How tight and figure-hugging it was. How the cowl neck made her cleavage look even more inviting than normal. How the hem of the dress made her legs look a mile long. God, he couldn’t stop thinking about her legs. How smooth and silky they looked.

He was able to keep it together for the rest of the night (somehow), and by morning, (Y/N) was able to make eye contact with him again. (Y/N) decided at one point to go up to him and explain why she was dressed like that. “Sorry you had to see me like that, Parker. It was supposed to be girls night, but then you came to the door, and everything happened.” “No! Um, it’s okay. I gathered that’s why you had on that dress, and you don’t have to explain anything to me.” Parker replied, still blushing at the thought of how damn fine she looked in the dress. “Thanks Parker, I appreciate it.” (Y/N) said. “Alden, call me Alden.”

#ncis #alden parker x reader #alden parker #nick torres #jessica knight #kasie hines #jimmy palmer

25 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 months

Note

AITA for giving away my sisters fish?

This is a dumb and very long story (i could probably shorten it somehow but I don't know how) and I know the title makes me look bad.

Ok so, one evening my mom and my little sister(let's call her Jess) brought home a container of four fish that mum said she saw a guy selling on the road for about 2 dollars (I'm not american so I just calculated and it comes out to around 2 dollars)

This was during the end of year break when Jess was home (usually we all go to boarding school) None of us had ever had pet fish before and we didn't know what kind of fish they were, they looked different from each other and their size difference was pretty big too(the largest was about the size of three nail clippers stacked on top of each other and the smallest was about the size of 1/2 of a car key). So we weren't sure of the species of any and bought the most nondescript pack of fish food we could find, they ate it so we thought things were ok.

About 1 month into the break though (the end of year break where I am is 2 months), 1 of the fish died for reasons we still don't know (we changed the water every 3 days) and two weeks later a second one just disappeared, it wasn't in the bowl, and no one knew what happened. So by the time school started there were 2 fish left (Jess was sad but we also have dogs so she wasn't too sad)

All of us go to different boarding schools but ive been going to a day-school this past year because I'm scheduled for a surgery, so when everyone went back it was just me with the fish.

My elder sister (let's call her Kat) came home from university for a while and she thought the fish were cool so she asked my mom if she could tell her where she got them so she could get some for her dorm. My mom told her she just got them from some guy on the road who didn't have a stall and probably wouldn't be there if she drove to the place she found him. So she went back to uni without any fish

Flash forward, 4 weeks into the term, my mom comes to get me from school and she says was passing the area she saw the guy and he was there with another container of fish this time with about 10 fish also of various muddy and sandy colours, about length of the diameter of a soda-bottle cap (my mom said they also cost her about 2 dollars). I said we could split the fish in half, keep 6 and give Kat 6 for her dorm.

So I'm sitting in the car, holding the container of fish my laps and my mom suddenly stops the car because a person walking on the sidewalks falls into the trenches on the sides of the road. The person is ok but the car stops so suddenly and I'm not holding the container securely so it falls from my laps.

The container has a lid so the car is ok but the guy added some small rocks and a fake plant to the container so they kind of bury the some of fish and 6 of them die. I look on like an idiot while mom tries to settle the rocks but another fish is buried when the rocks are settled.

By the time we get home and transfer all the living fish into the bowl we already have, we have 5 fish in total. We move them to a new, slightly bigger bowl and feed them but by the next morning when I'm going to school i see 3 fish left.

When I get home, I tell my mom that maybe we aren't ready for fish and we should give them to Kat whose dorm may be less of a safety hazard (during the end of year break we used to play with the fish a lot, trying to touch their tails etc so we're definitely the reason the first batch died anyway. We're also 8 kids and there are kids older and younger than me so it would be hard to stop EVERYONE from being rough with the fish). I also had exams coming up and I was starting to put of changing the water and cleaning bowl until i saw algae growing on sides.

Kat has a roommate who thinks the fish are cool too so incase one of them forgets maintaining the fish the other can do it. (I also kind of secretly hoped the all fish would just die a week or two into being with them so it wouldn't bother them anymore I feel bad about it)

Anyway, 3 weeks later when Kat came home she took the fish with her. It's around the middle of the first term so it was Visitation Day at Jess's school yesterday (I think the name is self explanatory) and the first thing she asked about was the fish. I didn't know what to say so I told her the truth and she was so SAD!!(I mean obviously she'd be sad but visitation day is supposed to be a good day) because we named the fish and everything(the first batch, not the second) . I tried to tell her how Kat and her roommate were nice and would give the new fish good name but she said that was dumb I knew that was dumb and I wish had just lied about the whole thing and asked my mom to buy new fish but I feel like Jess would know so said nothing else

My mom kind of cheered her up by saying that during the holidays they could go get a good tank and actual goldfish from a better place but she was mad at me because I suggested that the fish be given to Kat and I feel like she's right because it would be stupid to ask Kat to bring the fish wish her the next time she came home.

All my other siblings not just Jess also got attached to the fish so I'll just be breaking the news to everyone for the next three weeks (because all schools where I am schedule visitation day in the same month) and just generally ruining the mood.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #pet death cw

59 notes · View notes

vishnavishivaa · 7 months

Text

Chapter 3: Inner Ramblings (Sambandham: War of Hearts)

Links to:

Prologue- https://www.tumblr.com/harinishivaa/741119072854573056/prologue-sambandham-war-of-hearts?source=share

Chapter 1- https://www.tumblr.com/harinishivaa/741675299243261952/chapter-1-starting-fresh-sambandham-war-of?source=share

Chapter 2- https://www.tumblr.com/harinishivaa/743447339726995456/chapter-2-picturesque-sambandham-war-of-hearts?source=share

******

Two weeks later

Chennai, Tamil Nadu

"Thiju!"

Kshithija's eyes met Nila's bright, lucid eyes, shining with an excitement that the former was sure was reflected in her own eyes. Nila had matured even more, her hair in a loose ponytail, long, swishing around behind her back in her excitement. Her beauty had a glow to it, the glow that only romantic feelings acknowledged, accepted and returned could give one.

Had Aditya asked her out?

Kshithija thought all of this, as she embraced her sister tightly. Nila often felt like a part of Kshithija's heart, an integral part of it. Without Nila, her heart would not be complete, just like without Arun, her heart had no blooming. Even through the harsh rejection, and the many years it had been since she had been in anything more than vague and distinct contact with him and his family, he still ran through her heart and veins, like he had never left it.

And he hadn't. She had tried to be as with-the-flow in healing as possible. Though loving him from many thousand miles away was very different from loving him when in close contact. And she doubted the intensity between them would have died down; in fact, if she could hazard a guess, it was going to be much more intense. More than it had ever been.

How she could guess that she had not divined yet, but she knew her gut too well to doubt it anymore.

"What is it, Vaandu?" Nila asked very affectionately, giving Kshithija a knowing look, tinged with some shyness rare in her.

"Did you end up getting a date, Akka?" Kshtihija whispered, not wanting her uncle, who she had embraced earlier to hear just yet. The delightful blush on Nila's face, splashing across her bronzed skin told Kshithija that Aditya had finally asked Nila out. "Oh! He finally asked you out then."

"He did," Nila agreed, the dark blush filling her cheeks, as she looked at Kshithija, the latter smiling brightly.

"What great news to get as I return, Akka. May you always always be happy," Kshithija wished her cousin, hugging her once more, before both grabbed the suitcases and wheeled it to the car, Kshithija more than ready to return home, to the safety of the place she grew up in.

Kshithija was curled up in her favourite nook on the first floor of her house, the couch as comfortable as her usual bean bag back at London. She looked at the book open on her lap, smiling at the worn out pages. She had read this multiple times for comfort, and somehow felt the urge to pick up the book at that moment.

If she thought deeply, she would know why she was in this state; it had everything to do with Arun, with having to meet Arun again. Maybe not immediately, but they ran in very similar social circles, that meeting him socially would happen at some point. Further, the closeness of the two families also guaranteed that she would have to meet him in informal family gatherings.

Since the loss of her father, her Periappa and Sundar uncle, Arun's father, had bonded even more. While both had been close before, the loss of Appa had sealed the friendship in a deeper, more instinctual way than ever before. When they teamed up, it was known that they could win any argument. Given that she was still the heir of her father's company, and Arun was going to be Managing Director eventually, she suspected matchmaking endeavors.

Would she be able to deal with them? She was after all well aware of the ways this set up will happen. And worse, if Iramathi wanted it to happen even now. Kshithija's affection for Iramathi had not receded by any means, and she was aware she was often a pushover, especially with people she loved. But one thing she had gotten with clarity during her time away was perspective.

Iramathi was loving, but she was also not above pushing people together if she thought it would help her family and the mega empire they ran. Aditya could be ruthless sometimes, despite being gentle as well when needed, though it was not the case every time it was needed. Paavai was a little firecracker, and her two brothers often spoiled her, which often gave her a sense of superiority, despite the genuineness that ran in her. Kalyaani was quiet, but could be very cunning when needed. And Arun...

Arun was more morally righteous and truthful than any of his siblings. But he also had a habit of not trusting anyone easily, despite having known them for a long time. While there was nothing wrong with being cautious, there was wrong with actually believing rumours more than the friendship that had been shared for many years.

She sighed to herself. This was the exact path she did not want herself in, and she had, of course found herself venturing into it. Being a psychologist could not prevent her from completely getting over her overthinking habits, it could only help her understand who could advise and guide her through it, leading to healing.

What was she to do though, if such a situation came up?

"Thiju!"

Kshithija was bought out of her thought spiral by her younger brother, who bounded in and plopped down next to her. They were best friends, having only one and a half years between them.

"Yes Kumara?" she asked, playfully rolling her eyes, giggling at his mock offended look. "What do you need me for, mischief maker?"

"Thiju, we both know that you are the biggest mischief maker between the two of us," he nudged her, making her laugh in agreement, responding, "That is a secret!"

The two siblings basked in the cheerful silence, before Kumaran again broke it.

"The social events of the year are starting, Thiju. In about a month," Kumaran announced. Kshithija knew well that he was aware that she had kept herself informed of all this.

"And?"

"And, Periappa hopes you would join us this time," Kumaran said softly. "But you must know..."

"Arun will be there," she sighed softly. She took in the concerned look her brother threw at her, and squeezed his arm, saying, "Well, I will have to meet him at some time, don't I?"

andha vezham nokkida, ingu thaazhai nokkida, oru mouna kaaviyam pirakka

******

Glossary:

andha vezham nokkida, ingu thaazhai nokkida, oru mouna kaaviyam pirakka- That elephant approached, as did the thaazham flower; that meeting gave birth to a silent epic of sorts.

@thelekhikawrites @nspwriteups @whippersnappersbookworm @ragkee @chemicalmindedlotus @dr-scribbler @willkatfanfromasia @balladedutempsjadis @freeunknownwasteland @ramcharanobsessed @gemmusings @vijayasena @thirst4light @hollogramhallucination @chiyaanvikram @moon-880 @sakhiiii @thereader-radhika @ambidextrousarcher @celestesinsight @yehsahihai @thegleamingmoon @dumdaradumdaradum @rang-lo @ragkee @vijayasena Please let me know your thoughts!

16 notes · View notes

magpiefngrl · 3 months

Text

mid-year book tag

Thanks for tagging me, @bloody-wonder! It's become a fun tradition to do this every year and I've been eagerly anticipating it :)

This hasn't been as prolific a year for me as the last several years have been. I've read 34 books by end of June, so about 10-20 less than I used to, and a lot of these have been rereads. The past couple of months have been super busy and I read a lot of fic, but struggled to finish novels. Fingers crossed for a better reading summer.

1. Best Book You’ve Read So Far in 2024? I haven't read a book that blew me away so far. I've mentioned some of my faves here. I did enjoy most of my reads this year, but there isn't one book that stands out. (a fic, does, though. More on that later)

2. Best Sequel You’ve Read So Far in 2024? Dark Heir by Pacat. I was very invested, went back to read it again a week later, and it's made me very excited about the last novel.

3. New Release You Haven’t Read Yet, But Want To? The Brides of High Hill by Nghi Vo is definitely on my list (this will wait for 2025). There's also a new fantasy novel called Foul Days by a Bulgarian author that I'm curious about. Finally, Rebecca Roanhorse's Mirrored Heavens comes out soon but I still haven't read the second one in the series, so it'll also have to wait.

4. Most Anticipated Release For Second Half of 2024? Like you, KJ Charles's The Duke at Hazard is the one I'm most eagerly waiting.

5. Biggest Disappointment? I've been reading The Master and Margarita for two months now, forcibly stopping myself from DNFing it these days, because I don't actually hate it, it's just I can't bring myself to read it. But I also want to have read it, to be done with it. Idk why I'm struggling so much. Perhaps I'm not in the mood for it and would appreciate it at a later date. Based on the title and the positive reviews, I expected something more fascinating.

6. Biggest Surprise? The above, I guess.

7. Favourite New Author? Somehow, the only new authors I've read this year are Aliette de Bodard and Lois McMaster Bujold, and Bujold is the better one of the two. (The rest of the authors were people I've read before and I knew what their writing was like.)

8. Newest Favourite Character? Miles Vorkosigan, for his cleverness and his ability to always get in trouble and then to get creatively out of it.

9. Newest Fictional Crush? Not quite a crush, but my latest obsession is Bucky Barnes, entirely because of the fic I mentioned above (Out of the Dead Land, orphaned) which gave me the worst fic hangover. It's a stucky fic, a ship that never interested me, and it gave me feral feels about Bucky; it made me go back and rewatch a few Marvel films (and I had to torrent them since I'd ended my disney subscription; in other words, I had to go to some trouble); and it was a fic I kept thinking for days after I finished it. I'm actively stopping myself from rewatching Winter Soldier again today. And yes, not a book character, but the obsession is based on a fic and he's fictional so I say he counts :)

💕Best Ship💕 I loved Asmodeus and Thuan in de Bodard's Dominion of the Fallen series. Asmodeus is a Fallen Angel who likes stabbing and torture, Thuan is a dragon prince who tries to temper down his stabby husband. Will and James from Dark Rise are also a ship I enjoyed, though I'm more interested in their past selves.

10. Book That Made You Cry? There hasn't been one this year so far. And I cry easily, and I consider books that make me cry Superior. This tells you how mid the year has been.

12. Favourite Book Adaptation You Saw This Year? I really liked Dune II but haven't read the book yet so don't know if it was a good adaptation. It was definitely a great film.

13. Favourite Review You’ve Written This Year? Have written a couple of longer reviews on GR but nothing that stands out as more creative or unique. I've been thinking about posting reviews on my website and I'd like to figure out a unique or unusual or at least a me way to do them.

14. Most Beautiful Cover? I read almost exclusively on my Kobo and pay scant attention to covers.

15. What Books Do You Need To Read By The End of The Year? Many!

The Master and Margarita! hahah sobs :((

Finish a Lymond reread

reread tgcf now that I got all the novels

Harrow the Ninth

Some more Vorkosigan novels

Vita Nostra, which I've just begun

a couple of novels I bought YEARS ago and still haven't finished

and if I can read at least one of my 60-odd unread physical books I'll consider it a triumph

Tagging anyone who wants to do this! Perhaps @skeptiquex @hoko-onchi-writes @wolfpants @lettersbyelise and @gracerene might want to get the ball rolling?

2022 mid year post

2023 mid year post

#mid year book tag #2024 books #books

10 notes · View notes

randomkposts · 5 months

Text

I know I've mentioned this before, but I keep thinking back to how funny it is that Setsuna and Azama were the retainers who stayed in Revelations. As much as she cares about them, Azama and Setsuna are the least retainer like Retainers in the game.

Setsuna and Azama were introduced to the player in chapter 8 of Birthright by Setsuna falling into a trap, and Azama laughing at her. Then, Azama points out that he has no weapons so it will be Hinoka protecting him, while Setsuna falls into yet another trap. Hinoka ends that particular conversation with these words.

"Gods. I knew I couldn't rely on the two of you, but this is worse than I imagined! Just try and hold it together long enough for us to see this through, all right? Maybe Ryoma and Takumi can help me babysit, once we finally catch up to them..."

Setsunas support topics

Trap supports full:- 3 Corrin, Jacob, Silas

Supports involving traps:- 7 ,Kaze, Kaden, Takumi, Ryoma (most of it is about Archery, but traps come back in the A support), Selena & Arther(also about shopping), Hinoka and Setsuna make it through most of their support chain about learning to cook something edible before Setsuna comes across mouse traps. So close

Supports involving hunting- 4. Takumi, Kaden, Kaze, Hayato.

Trap free supports and topics:- 8. Subaki, Saizo, Kagero and Hana - training, Azama -cooking, Hayato -Her ability to hum, Hinata-medicine, Niles- privilege.

Setsuna can grocery shop. Seems to be able to cook when not being experimental. Can lure animals by humming to kill them, would instantly destroy the message in a game of broken telephone, has trouble following directions (probably beacuse she gets so distracted), comes from a rich family, and is good at archery. It once took her a day to make it to the archery range beacuse she fell into every trap in the vicinity, and got upped in the S support where it took two days.

To contrast the diffrence between Setsuna and Saizo as retainers, we look at his support with her. Saizo ensures Ryoma is asleep first, gets up before him, gets his clothes and breakfast, and watches for Hazards. In contrast, Setsuna goes to bed, wakes up in the morning after Hinoka has put out her clothes and breakfast for her, and then goes to practice archery, where presumbly based on other supports, she gets caught in a trap. Hinoka Just straight up decided "shes hopless at everything in retainering but archery, so I might as well learn to enjoy the chores." Both Saizo and Kagaro are trying to teach her how to do her job better and are not seen succeeding.

One more stat. S support proposals that involve traps: Corrin, Jacob, Kaze, Silas, Takumi, Kaden, Ryoma, Arthur.

Now lets do Azama. And start with a Quote from his conversation with Arthur.

"Hahaha. Me? Support her? Listen, I barely do anything. SHE supports me. You're not likely to meet a tougher customer anywhere in the world"

Like Setsuna, someone takes Azama on for retainer training. Unfourtunatly for for the people who need to work with them, its Felicia, which means this does not happen before he and Setsuna are the only retainers left between the Hosidan older siblings.

Azama is a weird holy man. He has killed a bear durring meditation lessons, drove Sakura to anger strongly enough that she snapped a staff in half, doesn't want to bother to try healing people he feels are certian to die yet goes out of his way to heal Effie, has been Hinokas retainer for years, and is insanely presumptuous when proposing to a lot of people including both royal ladies. He also apparantly teases people he has feelings for, and genrally does not have the manor one would expect of the healer or monk. He's aggravating.

Hanas and Subaki's support is around training, in baffling ways.

Beruka, Mozu, Orochi, Hinoka, Hayato, Kagaro, Oboro, and Kaden all invole Azuma being a strange person, and usually insulting them. Arthur is the one who discovers his backstory.

"The rumor is that you were the second son to a family that ran a shrine for many years. You were a troublemaker who loved to mouth off about everything. But after trekking through the woods, you discovered the ascetic lifestyle. And eventually you settled down enough to be suitable for monkhood. Is that all true?"

And apparantly, it is true.

"I also heard that when you were training in the mountains, you met a pegasus rider. She had fallen and injured herself. That rider was Lady Hinoka. She was so impressed with your conduct that she searched high and low to find you. When she finally did, she requested that you become her retainer. In fact, I heard that you're the only person she named to the palace guard. "

(Of course this is all based in english translation. I wonder if the Japanese gives more details about them that I missed. )

Save that there were 2 people Hinoka named to the palace guard. Azuma and Setsuna. The two personal retainers who didn't defect to corrins army. (Yukimura is loyal to Hoshido first and foremost.) Saizo and Kagaro left in chapter 11. The Hoshidan older siblings don't join Corrin's army until chapter 16, five chapters later. They meet in chapter 13, in Cyrkensia, and can make their betrayal known. It appears durring that time, Ryomas been hanging with Scarlett, while Hinoka has been defending the home.

Which means, their inability to be typical retainers has been Yukimuras problem and the castle defence. And it seems to have made them more serious. Or at least, have a better introduction.

Azama: "I apologize for interrupting this happy family reunion, Lady Hinoka...but you have forgotten to introduce us, your loyal retainers."

Corrin: "Huh? You are...?"

Azama: "I am called Azama. If you make foolish mistakes and injure yourselves, I can put you right."

Setsuna: "Um... I'm Setsuna. I'm good with...a bow. ...Azama... You are standing on my foot."

Azama: "Ahaha! My apologies!"

Hinoka: "As Azama said, these two are my retainers! Don't judge them by appearances; they come through when it counts."

Still does not seem to change the fact that Hinoka is the one making breakfast. Yukimura is here pulling his hair out.

#setsuna fire emblem #setsuna fe #azuma fire emblem #azuma fe #hinoka fire emblem #ryoma fire emblem #fire emblem fates #fire emblem #random k #retainers #unlikliest retainers #yukimura fire emblem

9 notes · View notes