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stellartales · 4 years ago

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zhongli ▪︎ glazed moon

pairing: zhongli x traveler!reader

genre(s): comfort + mild angst + fluff

summary: liyue harbor is once again preparing for another festival — the mid-autumn festival. but somehow she simply couldn't bring herself to join the others in the celebration. definitely not when her heart is aching in melancholy for her missing twin. — | m.list

background: this scenario takes place during the mid-autumn festival - as quoted from wikipedia - it is the second-most important holiday after Chinese New Year with a history dating back 3,000 years, when China's emperors worshipped the moon for bountiful harvests.[2] The celebration is called Chuseok (autumn eve) in Korea, Tsukimi (moon-viewing) in Japan and Tết Trung Thu (Mid-Autumn Festival) in Vietnam

this event celebrated by the chinese is usually spent eating mooncakes and drinking teas. lanterns are also an important aspect of this festival. unlike the yuanxiao fesitval or mingxiao festival (which is the fictional festival featuring best boy Xiao in GI) where lanterns are released into the sky, lanterns are hand-held. this is a festival i celebrate every year hence i'm familiar with it — feel free to read up about this on wiki!

a/n: don't mind me, this is just a random idea that popped in my head. i'm in the mood for some angsty stuff these days so just had to get it out. Flute version of 无羁 (Wu Ji) from the drama 'Untamed' was the song which inspired my angsty mood while typing this. pardon my errors (I may have missed them and i kinda wrote this on a spur sooooo yea)

Please do me a favor and reblog this. Thank youuuu ❤

the vitality of liyue harbor has always been astounding; an envy of the seven nations.

bright, bustling streets even in the darkness of nights was enough to show the nature of the city.

though, today it was a different kind of bustle. stores were already closed; even the nocturnal businesses that one would only see at night.

the moon had been bright and round the past few nights while the people busied themselves for another festival to come.

— the mid-autumn festival, an annual festival celebrated by the people of liyue or at least that was what zhongli explained yesterday when he extended an invitation to her to join him and others in moon-gazing today.

tonight, the moon shone bright and full in the clear dark sky, seemingly more so than the previous nights.

strategically rooted to the ground of a spacious balcony overlooking the gentle waves below, the stone tables were in a perfect spot beneath the brilliant moon.

colorful mooncakes of various flavors and teacups filled with steaming tea laid before her.

she sat at one of the round stone tables with some funeral parlor staff and of course, zhongli himself who has been rather busy ever since she arrived—

the cheerful chatters and laughter drew her eyes away from the empty seat beside her and to the tables across theirs.

his archon days were over, he said.

he was simply trying to experience a mundane life as 'zhongli' now, as the geo archon had put it when she expressed her surprise at his involvement with a festival fabricated by the mortals' minds.

and indeed—

her gaze idled on him.

— he was doing it too well.

illuminated by the golden glow the table lanterns emanated, the cordial and relaxed atmosphere was warmed by attentive eyes and smiling lips.

all on him.

apparently, some things never changed. whether he was rex lapis or zhongli, he carried an alluring elegance and charisma. clinging to every word and his occasional hand gestures, they were like moths drawn to a flame.

she could understand why; she liked hearing him talk. she would have gone over too, if not...if not for this weight on her heart.

it has been nearly a year since she was in teyvat looking for her twin. these few days in the harbor, the full moon was a constant reminder of how time has passed, and yet...

a heavy sigh escaped her. a longing gleam waned in her eyes as she lifted her gaze to the sky.

they used to talk and eat under a full moon just like this, a bitter ache clenched her heart.

her teeth sank into her lower lip as it trembled.

please...not now. her hands curled into shaking fists as she tried to hold back the tears threatening to leave her eyes.

not now. not at this party. she silently pleaded with herself, her squared shoulders shaking. it took all her willpower to not let the dam break.

but one managed to escape her anyway.

—shit.

she was up on her feet fast and slipped away from the party as subtly as she could.

stumbling out of the party half-blind with tears wasn't exactly the best situation to remember about the cloak meant to keep her warm on an autumn night.

luckily, she didn't end up falling off the stairs she currently sat on.

autumn in liyue was typically not cold, but tonight seemed especially so.

she shivered to the chilly breeze brushing against her back. goosebumps crawled across her skin, particularly on the areas her dress failed to protect against the cold.

she couldn't quite bring herself to go back for the cloak. not with the mess she was now.

the sight of the round moon above wavered in her vision as tears quietly trailed down her cheeks.

under the vast, seemingly endless night sky, she felt small...

— her knees were drawn closer to her chest, curled fingers digging into her dress.

...and extremely powerless.

where is he? why can't she find him? is he even in teyvat? Is he even...still alive? does he even exist anymore?

—a dreading sense of hopelessness echoed in her heart and summoned another wave of tears wavering her vision.

under this wide, endless sky and its luminous moon, she felt alone, truly alone in the presence of the joyous cacophony of laughter and playful yells coming from the festival she left behind.

a nasty voice prompted by the noise taunted her — of how no one would notice, even if she were to walk right out of liyue harbor right now.

drowning in harsh, relentless thoughts, she failed to notice the gaze of a pair of wise, golden eyes on her back, soft with concern.

long legs covered the distance between them in a quiet, graceful stride; the gentle clacks of his loafers whenever their heels hit the ground slipped past her notice too.

not even when he climbed down the steps to settle himself next to her, a step above hers.

not even the inevitable proximity between their bodies caused by the short stairs spacious for one but narrow for two.

only until his coat was off his shoulders and wrapped around hers—

"why the tears on the mid-autumn festival?"

—she jolted with a sharp gasp, her widening eyes snapping over to him.

the calm and prodding gaze that met hers was accompanied by the tender brush of his thumb across her left cheek, right under her tearing eye before switching over to her other.

"zh-zhongli?"

she stayed stunned, unsure she was feeling so because someone noticed she had left or was it because of this simple gesture.

zhongli has always been a mentor-like figure to her. his words, his wise gazes, the comforting pets he occasionally gave on her head and back had always reminded her of how she was a mere child in his eyes.

but tonight...this, nothing about the gentleness his hand or his eyes emanate felt normal. or was she just delirious?

the strange stutter of her heart caused by the hand on her face, the blush heating up her cheeks made her tear her gaze away from his, flustered.

zhongli let his hand drop back onto his knee, but his eyes stayed.

crossing her arms to hold onto his coat sitting on her shoulders, she thought hard to recall his question.

"i can't help thinking about my brother, that's all." she looked back at him, smiling.

a smile he thought reminded him of the moon when it was not yet full — a quiet light melancholic with vague sadness.

"don't worry about me, i'll be fine." she slipped a glance over her shoulder in the direction of the festival. "you should go back there, zhongli, they need you. what's mid-autumn festival for liyue without you?"

she moved to remove the coat from her shoulders, but a hand wrapped around her wrist stopped her.

"but what's mid-autumn festival without you, my dear friend?"

zhongli regarded her intently, his eyes boring into hers for a second before shifting to focus on his coat.

there was something else in his eyes when they return to hers; it came and went in a flicker. "...keep this on, it's chilly today."

"thanks..." she murmured, her shoulders sinking as she yet again returned her thoughts to her brother.

"aether..." the pain she guarded showed on her face. "will i ever be able to see him again?"

tears started to well up in her eyes once again.

"i'm sorry, zhongli, i'm so sorry..." a quiet sob broke through, "today is supposed to be about the mid-autumn festival, and yet...here you are, listening to me."

zhongli's mouth opened then snapped close.

he always knew what to say whenever she was in a pinch. however, it was tears this time, and he wasn't exactly sure about what he should do about his body's urge to extend his arms out to her.

he was already more than a thousand years old.

as the former geo archon, he was the immovable rock. emotions and impulses he used to hold within himself in his younger days were buried deep under the sands of time...or at least they should be.

so where did this come from? was this strange stir an inevitable part of being a mortal?

"you know what?"

her movement to rise from the spot beside him turned his head back to her.

resolute hardened the glint in her tearing eyes, "i don't want to hold you back any longer,"

her fingers curled into a shaky fist, nails digging into her palm.

"....the people need you. i-i think i should just go bac—"

his hand flew out before he could think any further; his body was faster than his thoughts this time.

her next breath puffed out of her, in surprise and bewilderment as her body was tugged and cocooned by a breathing warmth before she could understand what happened.

and when she did, her eyes flew wide.

cheek pressed against his neck, she found herself held to his chest. she could feel his chin atop her head and his arms around her.

he was beside her a moment ago, and now he was behind sharing the same step as her, broad enough to accommodate them. was she the one who moved? or did he?

she didn't know how but she couldn't find the energy to care —the scent of musk and lingering tea engulfing her was an alluring comfort that made her want to stop trying.

so warm. really, really warm.

and so was his voice. "...but you need me." a hand caressed the back of her head.

there was a pause before a feigned cough ensued. "i meant, this."

#genshin impact #zhongli x reader #zhongli imagines #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli x traveler #zhongli x lumine #zhonglumi

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hopelesshawks · 4 years ago

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Love and Admiration Part 34- Vulnerable

18+ Bakugo x fem!pro hero reader

Summary: (Y/n) has known Bakugo since middle school, admired him since high school, and had a crush on him since the first time they met. Even now, a top pro hero in her own right, she can’t shake her school girl crush. Too bad Bakugo literally has no idea she exists. Well that’s not entirely true… He does know pro hero Mercury exists, but (y/l/n) (y/n)? Never heard of her.

Note: there’s a written part after the third screenshot so careful not to accidentally skip past it if you click into the photos to read the texts

Masterlist Help Lulu <3

You wake up slowly to the sound of your phone pinging incessantly and it takes a moment to realize why there’s another warm body beneath you. As memories of the previous night trickle in so too does a combination of hopeful excitement and dread. Bakugo Katsuki loves you, of this you can now be sure. But the uncertainty lies in whether he can forgive you for breaking his heart. Sure, he’d seemed accepting the previous night but it’s one thing to accept late at night in the heat of the moment with your lips on his, and another entirely to accept it under the harsh light of day with a clearer head. You’re brought out of your thoughts when Bakugo’s arm around you tightens in a quick squeeze. “Stop overthinking idiot,” Katsuki grumbles, voice still rough with sleep. You shift slightly so you can look at him properly before replying “How do you know I’m overthinking?” “Can just tell. Relax,” he assures you. “Ok,” you sigh, releasing with it some of the tension from your body. You notice your phone is still pinging so you reach over and grab it off the nightstand. Bakugo scowls at it, taking it from your grip and flicking it on silent before tossing it back to the nightstand before you can even check the notifications. “Uhh is there a particular reason you won’t let me look at my phone?” you asked with a raised eyebrow. “It’s just our dumbass friends. Ignore them for now,” he huffs before rolling you both over so you’re pinned beneath him and unable to reach for your phone again. “Katsuki you’re heavy,” you whine, feebly pushing at his shoulder until he shifts so his weight is better distributed on top of you. You expect him to fire some reply back and when he doesn’t you look down at where his head is now lying on your shoulder to find him staring up at you. “What?” you ask, suddenly self conscious as his gaze traces over your face. “I missed hearing you call me by my first name,” he admits quietly, your heart breaking at the words. “I’m so so-“ you start to say but Katsuki covers your mouth with his hand. “You said that already dumbass,” he tells you before getting out of the bed and pulling back on his shirt and boxers.

You watch Bakugo curiously as he digs through your drawers in search of something. Once he finds it he tosses it to you on the bed. As you unfold it you realize it’s the Dynamight hoodie you’d bought alongside the Mercury one for Katsuki. “Get dressed and meet me in the kitchen,” is the closest you get to an explanation as Katsuki leaves the room. You pull the hoodie on then go to your drawers to find underwear and a pair of pajama shorts to throw on. By the time you meet Katsuki in the kitchen he’s pouring two cups of tea and setting them down at your kitchen island so you go to take a seat there and wait for him to come sit next to you. It’s quiet for a moment as you both try to think where to start. “Look I don’t need or want another fucking apology from you got it? I wasn’t entirely blameless or whatever so,” Bakugo starts stiffly. He’s uncomfortable, you can tell. Emotional conversations have never really been his thing, at least not without a heavy dose of violence to simultaneously use as an outlet. It’s just further proof of how important getting this right must be to him. “I just need to know why,” he finally admits although he’s staring resolutely into his mug of tea instead of looking you in the eye. You nod, gathering your thoughts for a moment so you can be sure to get this right. He deserves that much. You both do.

“I’ve had a crush on you since middle school.”

Bakugo’s head snaps to look at you in disbelief so quickly you’re genuinely shocked he didn’t give himself whiplash. “Eh!? Why??” he asks. “I don’t know! You always seemed so cool and you were so determined to get into UA and I am not going to rationalize middle school (y/n)’s feelings ok?? You were a fucking gremlin but you were a gremlin I happened to like a lot,” you huff, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “Whatever brat, just finish your fucking explanation,” he scoffs but the tips of his ears and his cheeks have gone pink. “Yea well, you matured a lot in high school so the crush didn’t go away. If anything it got worse but you didn’t really know who I was so that was kinda it y’know? It just became this thing that sat in the back of my head that I ignored,” you explain. “What about that stupid extra you dated?” Bakugo asks, his grip around his mug tightening slightly. “I liked Shindo a lot. Even loved him for a bit but I don’t think he really made the crush go away, just made it ignorable y’know? My crush on you was still right there waiting after he and I broke up. At the party two weeks ago he even told me that the reason he cheated was because he was paranoid I’d leave him for you,” you admit. “That’s not a fucking excuse,” Katsuki practically growls. “I know.” “Good.”

You pause to take a sip from your tea as you continue sorting your thoughts. It’s embarrassing to admit how long you’ve been hung up on Bakugo, especially considering he had no idea who you were even if he loves you now. Even still, you resist that small, self-protective instinct that wants you to shy away. It’s what got you in this situation in the first place after all. You and Katsuki will only work if you can be vulnerable with each other. “But yea, anyway, uhm all that to say I’ve been kinda hung up on you for a really long time but it was always from a distance y’know? Until suddenly it wasn’t and we were hanging out and having sex and you made it very clear that you don’t date and I thought I was fine with that because whatever we were doing was already so much more than I ever thought I’d have with you, especially once I realized you didn’t remember me, but then Shindo kissed me,” you sigh. Katsuki tenses up beside you. “I remember. Thought you were gonna go crawling back to that idiot,” he growls. “I was,” you admit, and once again you worry Katsuki’s going to give himself whiplash with how quickly he turns his head to you. “What? After everything he did to you, why-“ “Relax ok? I couldn’t do it, even though at the time I kind of wanted to.” “Why couldn’t you?” “Because of you.”

The words hang heavy in the air as Bakugo’s eyes scan over your face searching for any indication that you’re lying or embellishing the truth. “Then why did you start avoiding me after that night?” he finally asks and you give a wry smile. “Because I’m an idiot? Kissing Shindo made me realize that the crush I’d been harboring for you for years had changed. It wasn’t just a stupid crush on the idea of you anymore, I was in love with you. I am in love with you. But I thought there was no way you’d ever want anything more than what we were doing and I couldn’t just be your fuckbuddy if I was in love with you, so I distanced myself to try and give myself time to get over you before we could continue our friendship,” you elaborate. “You should’ve just talked to me.” “I know.” “If you had I would’ve told you I’ve admired you since I first saw you fight as a pro a couple years ago,” Bakugo reveals and you can’t help but gape at him. “A couple years?” you ask incredulously. “Yea well, whatever don’t make a big deal out of it I just saw you on a bust or whatever and you fight really well so even if you weren’t the highest ranked or whatever I respected you. Then when I started seeing you around more this year I knew you’d end up top ten. Obviously,” he scoffs, his cheeks blushing an even brighter red at the admission. “I had no idea,” you say in wonder. “That’s obvious.” “Don’t ruin the moment.” “Whatever, can I finish what I was trying to fuckin say now?” “Ok, ok go for it.”

Bakugo rolls his eyes so hard you’re surprised they don’t fall out as he huffs. “Look I’m... I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since that first time in the alley, it just took you kissing that stupid, shitty extra for me to realize it. So if you’re done being a fucking idiot, I’d like it if you could be my girl,” he confesses and despite his gruff tone you can hear the hope and vulnerability in his voice. “I’d like that too,” you smile, voice soft and warm with affection. “Then c’mere,” Katsuki tells you before tugging you close to him until you’re sitting in his lap, legs straddling his waist. “I love you,” you tell him, voice filled with sincerity and joy at finally having him the way you’ve dreamed and fantasized about for years. “I love you too Princess,” he promises before pulling you into the sweetest kiss.

A/N: I wasn’t 100% sure where I wanted their talk to go I just knew that they needed to talk out exactly what happened instead of just confessing, sleeping with each other, and moving on but it felt only right they both should reveal just how long they’ve had their eyes on each other. Just a couple parts left guys ❤️

Taglist: @pixelwisp @oliviasslut @larkspyrr @heroacadema @kozukatsuki @captaincyberqueen @undead-nyx @ineedtofocusfr @i-heart-fictional-boys @theycallme-becky @superhermit @black-rose-29 @disaster-rose @fandomsgotmefucked

#hopelessla #bakugo smau #bakugo x fem!reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo katsuki

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wevegottogetaway · 4 years ago

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Thanks fo’ saving my ass tonight

I got so much going on with uni, but I couldn’t resist. If you too are queen/king of procrastinating uni work, you have my deepest support! Hope you enjoyed x

TW: none (except fool language)

Part 2 - Part 3*

Office parties have never been y/n’s cup of tea, the idea of enjoying yourself in the very place people usually count down the hours before they can leave, is rather ludicrous in her humble opinion. Alas as the boss’ personal assistant, she not only had to plan and organize the whole shebang but her presence was also required, supervision purposes and all that. The only solace sweetening the deal for her was that she’d be in charge of the catering too, and y/n learnt very early on that good food and greater booze could make any boring work function at least tolerable.

Now that the festivities are in full swing, conversation flowing almost as heartily as the champagne in the guests’ eager mouths, y/n thinks she did quite well. The vast open space of the office is decorated with taste, the music set at the perfect level as to not overpower the boring chitchat bouncing off its walls, and to her greatest delight, the catering company she hired has truly outdone themselves. All in all, everybody seems to be having a grand time, and y/n decides that’s reason enough to officially relieve herself of her supervisor’s duties.

As she scans over the assortment of canapés, mini-quiches, crudités and other mouth-watering ambrosias, y/n fails to notice the tall figure casually approaching her. She’s in the midst of pondering whether she should try the humous or a cream cheese and salmon toast first, mouth salivating and stomach growling in appetite, when a raspy voice interrupts her inner battle, "I see m’not the only one who’s here just fo’ the food".

Her eyes pop off the delicious hors d’oeuvres to the sight gracing them next and she doesn’t know which is the most appetizing. Because standing a few feet from her is Harry, vibrant smile and pretty dimples on show, as he leans over the verrines platter to pick the best-looking one. He’s wearing an olympic blue floral suit on top of a scandalously unbuttoned transparent shirt, a bold number that would grant anyone else looks of surprise and confusion but looked absolutely divine on his broad frame. Besides, after two years working at the office, everyone had gotten used to his unconventional fashion choices by now.

Y/n quirks an eyebrow in curiosity as she dips a cucumber stick in a bowl of humous, before quipping, "not a big fan of these things?"

Harry lets out a small chuckle in a ‘no kidding’ way, and attaches his emerald eyes to hers, "they’re kind of a drag, if m’bein’ honest."

She smiles at his admission, realizing they both share an aversion for mundanities, "I know right. Like, why party here where everyone has to be on their best behavior when we could be down at the bar without the boss gallivanting around?" she cries out in exasperation and not for the first time, Harry thinks she’s quite possibly the most endearing thing he’s ever seen. His smile widens the tiniest bit at her passionate rant, "my thoughts exactly. Do we even know what we’re supposed to celebrate?" The question makes her laugh, she wouldn’t have known either if not for her involvement in the affair, "well as the person behind this all drag," she give him a pointed look at his jeering choice of word, "it would be weird if I didn’t."

Harry’s face falls at the possibility of having offended her, but his uneasiness quickly dissipates when she starts laughing at him. "M’sorry, that came out wrong," he tells her before letting out a giggle of his own and y/n revels in the moment. The idea of interacting with him beyond the usual ‘here’s the presentation for today’s conference’ or ‘do you have the quarterly report ready’ is rather intoxicating for her already feeble nerves. "Don’t worry, I take no offense, I’m just as bored as you are," she reassures him with a smile, "the party is for a new potential investor, something about wooing them with some ‘corporate fun’. S’a load of bullshit if you ask me".

Harry nods at the explanation unimpressed, his boss’ intentions being the least of his worries. Aside from being the classic douche every manager typically insists on being, the guy has always made his distaste about him pretty clear, so Harry would rather focus on more interesting things. Like how beautiful y/n looks right now, her hair tied up in a loose bun at the top of her head, leaving a few strands to fall around her face. "You look amazing, by the way," he brings himself to say, though he thinks his compliment doesn’t even do her justice.

Y/n looks down at her own outfit then: a knee-length red dress composed of a skater skirt and a backless top that only holds with a couple pressure buttons clasped behind her neck. Her cheeks warm up to match the color of her apparel, betraying the timidity she’s always fallen victim of whenever he happened to be in her vicinity. Y/n’s never been one to shy away from her feelings or trip over her own words when facing her crushes, but there is something about Harry that teleports her right back to her sheepish 13 year-old teenage self. Also, she’s not too keen on office romances and the drama that usually ensues so she’s always made sure to stifle her blossoming attraction and keep their relation work-appropriate. Surely that must account for most of her awkwardness, doesn’t it?

Her eyes trail back to his face and her response comes in a shy euphemism, "thank you, you clean up quite nicely yourself." It’s enough to quirk Harry’s lips in a bashful smile, their complexion evidently on edge as they tread uncharted territories. Professionalism has always regimented their interactions with kind but polite rigidness, neither of them quite inclined to cross that invisible line, but tonight seems to challenge that.

Tonight, Harry is resolute in his infatuation, no longer inhibited from social construct but driven by a quest for knowledge; anything that will help him decipher her carefully shielded crux. Tonight, he endeavors to scrape the edges of her rough diamond to expose the gem encapsulated inside, peel back the stoic layers of her exterior to find her unapologetic and intrinsic nature. Tonight, he is thirsty for secrets and confidential disclosures, and he won’t leave until he’s drained it all out of her. Unless she tells him to fuck off, obviously.

Harry keeps the conversation going as he browns the buffet for a new delicacy to snack on, "so, what would you be doing if you didn’t have to be here?" He wants to know everything, the present and the past, the good and the bad, the superficial and the substance, the messy and the orderly, but he figures he should start by what she likes to do in her own time. The things that loosen her up after a tense week at work, the things that will make her eyes shine with passion as she relates them back to his curious mind.

The question reaches her ears as she takes a sip of her drink, "mmm," she smiles around her glass before placing it back on the table, "-that’s easy. Playing pool with the gang at Gibson’s." Her answer spills without hesitation, a heap of follow-up questions already brewing up in Harry’s brain, but the foreign name is what beckons his attention first, "Gibson’s?" he echoes with a faint rumple pulling the skin between his eyes. Is that the name of a friend? A boyfriend? Out of all the questions he’s contemplated, y/n’s relationship status never crossed his mind. He’s always assumed her to be a single woman, the evidence of a significant other never present in her language and demeanor.

A wave of relief washes over him at her elaboration, "it’s a bar couple blocks from my place. It’s been my friends and I’s HQ ever since we all met." The sentiment has her eyes sparkle at the remembrance of all the happy memories the place hosted, and Harry stores the information in his mental list of all y/n’s soft spots.

"Sounds rad, so you play pool?" he inquires with enthusiasm. He’s been knows to play a game or two in his youth, though it’s been a hot minute since he’s felt the weight of the cue in his hands as he sinks ball after ball in their respective pockets. He remembers the elation of it all, the adrenaline coursing through his veins at each successful strike, and his heart flutters at the thought of ever sharing a game with her; she seems like the competitive type in the most entertaining way possible. Before his thoughts can spiral into much filthier realms, like bending her over the table mid-game when his own skills prevail and she turns into a sore-loser, y/n’s voice rings him back to reality.

"Uh uh, correction," her expression suddenly turns in false seriousness before she proves him right about her competing tendencies, "I win at pool." Her eyes are so full of confidence, a spice of mischief sparkling in their corner, she would have no difficulty persuading anyone of anything that passes the threshold of her mouth. Harry certainly doesn’t doubt her mastery of the bar game, but it doesn’t stop him from challenging her in a slightly elevated pitch, "oh is that so?"

Y/n only grins at the banter, not at all fazed by his taunting remark, "maybe you’ll have to find out for yourself." She reaches for another snack, not taking her come-hither look off his handsome face, and Harry revels in her flirtatious advances, a smug smile taking possession of his lips as he surfs of the same wave of seduction. "Is that a challenge?" he philanders back, fueling the sensual back-and-forth they seem to have embarked upon.

"Not much of a challenge if I know I’ll win," y/n replies with cheek, her self-assurance once again burgeoning like sexy wildflowers sprouting from the ground underneath Harry’s feet, wrapping around his ankle and growing along his body to twine around his spellbound heart. He absolutely loves her unfaltering aplomb, finds it undoubtably sexy but he can’t let her know that just yet.

"Cocky."

"Confident."

They both chuckle at their repartee, enjoying this ping-pong of quick-witted banter they’ve never found in anybody else before. It’s like their intellects were meant to collide in galvanizing forces, the encounter of two fiery psychs too brilliant to one up the other.

Harry is mesmerized by their connection, if he knew sparks would fire this bright, he would have made a move ages ago. "Fuck, you’re something else," he shakes his head in incredulity before confessing, "definitely not what I expected."

Y/n’s chest tingles at his comment, a rivulet of liquid glee leaking through her arteries to pump her heart and her ego full of bliss, "Oh so you expected something, did you?" She punctuates her teasing with a thousand-watts power smirk, and Harry finds it strikingly alluring.

Not about to let her have the upper hand however, a burst of smugness crosses his features as he boomerangs her earlier allurement back to her, "maybe you’ll have to find out for yourself." It earns him a deep jazzy laugh rooted in her tummy and a tinge of pride swirling in his own. He wants to pry laugh after laugh from her belly until her last giggle, only relenting once the muscles in her chest are aching from unbridled joy.

Y/n sighs in content before taking a bite out of a mini-tartlet as she considers how to proceed in this much too flirty conversation. "So what would you be doing tonight, if not for this stupid party?" she returns his first question before realizing, "-wait a sec, what are you doing here if you hate these things so much? My presence was mandatory but yours isn’t."

"I’ll have you know I was coerced into coming too," he quips back in a fake defensive tone, hand pressing to his chest, "Mike from accounting begged me to tag along, he just broke up with his girlfriend so I didn’t have the heart to tell him no." The selfishness of the gesture softens her heart in a goo of adoration, but she can’t let him know that just yet.

"Softie."

"Chivalrous."

His comeback has her giggle, a rejoinder already tiptoeing at the edge of her lips, "see, who’s cocky now?" Her eyes are full of jest and lightness, somehow taking the weight of the party off his shoulders. Turns out, food and booze are not the only remedies for boring work functions, y/n’s company is just as effective if not more, and that’s with the guarantee of a hangover-less comes next morning. Harry is truly happy he decided to make an appearance tonight, a sentiment he definitely didn’t foresee for the night. The realization has him faintly shaking his head in amazement, his lips letting out another whispered "something else" softly enough that it doesn’t quite reach her already inflated ears.

"So did you have any plans tonight?" She reiterates the question not wanting to ever stop talking with him.

There are probably a hundred exciting plans he could have conjured up to come off half as intriguing as she seems to be, but instead he decides to go the honest route, "nah, I would have probably crash on my couch, this week’s been pretty hectic." His truth is confirmed by the faded blackness tinting the skin below his eyes, a proof of hard work and long hours under the heedlessness of a greedy superior. Y/n knows it all too well, having had firsthand experience with her boss’ jackassery. That’s why she directly inquires, "boss giving you trouble?"

Part of Harry is eager to steer the conversation back to more pleasant waters but he guesses talking a little bit about work was inevitable at some point, especially since they both share palpable distaste for their superior. "The maniac keeps giving me last minute reports like I’m expected to work all night along on his bullshit projects," he explains dejectedly before running his hand through his luscious curls in sign of frustration. "Barely finished in time fo’ the party tonight, I had to slip in his office to put the file on his desk, that fucker had already left."

Y/n listens attentively, her chest tightening in empathy at the recollection of his misfortune. She’s very familiar with the embittering feeling that comes with working your ass for someone that barely registers your efforts and dishes the office hours before you can even dream of clocking off. She’s faced the same scenario time and time again, including tonight, when she’d come up to lock the boss’ office hours after he left to get pampered for the party. She barely got time to make the double commute to and from her place, much less spend hours getting dolled up. She does remember the odd file on her boss’ desk though, "oh I was wondering what that blue folder was about, he never usually leave unattended paperwork on his desk."

Harry starts nodding in confirmation before stopping dead, eyes widened in distress, "wait, did you just say blue?" he asks in urgency.

Y/n frowns at his sudden agitation, her mind reeling to try and visualize the state of the surroundings she left several hours ago. She’s pretty positive she saw a blue binder laying there, not that she knows the ramifications of that simple fact, "yes I think so, why?"

The dire nature of the situation becomes painfully obvious as Harry’s face turns into a mess of dread and panic, "oh shit, oh fuck, no no no," the words keep tumbling from his mouth in a ramble of nerves. "So stupid, m’so fucked" he keeps muttering self-admonition in quiet anger, hands griping at the root of his hair.

Concern is starting to fester in y/n’s guts as she takes in his disheveled state, "Harry, Jesus, take a breath, tell me what’s going on," she steps closer to him, one hand softly holding at his biceps as she tries to connect their gazes.

Once his eyes plug into hers, pupils blown out in turmoil, he finally calms down enough to word out his mishap, "s’not the right file on his desk, I only use red binders for the reports." Spinning around out of her hold to shout his stress back to the wall in a loud "fuck!", Harry’s mind is caught up in a swirl of possible excuses to give to his boss, all sounding more ridiculous than the other. He can’t think of way to fix his mistake and escape the inevitable berating coming his way comes morning.

Fortunately for him, y/n is not about to let this happen, "it’s okay, we’ll fix this," she encourages. "What’s on his desk right now?"

Harry looks back at her then, not totally convinced that this all mayhem is salvageable. His boss is never going to tolerate this minor negligence, especially once he finds out the irrelevant material mistakenly slipped amongst his work. "My 14 year-old niece’s english project" the answer comes out as a question, a hint of self-deprecating humor lacing through his words. "Bloody hell, he’s gon’ have my head fo’ that one."

Harry is adamant in his doom, but if anything, y/n is not a quitter. "No he’s not. He hasn’t seen it yet, right? You said he was already gone when you brought the file."

He takes a long breath, "I suppose not."

"Guess it’s a good thing I have the keys to his office then, yeah?" She smiles proudly as a beacon of hope shines on his conflicted face. The forest green of his eyes seems to breath back to life in an endearing revival, effectively tugging at y/n’s heart’s merciful strings.

"Fuck, you’d do that fo’ me?" his shoulders loosen up in relief, the tension slowly simmering down to a gentle buzz, as he envisages the possibility of an illicit break-in. Well, as illicit as it may be, considering they have the keys. Still, best they don’t get caught snooping in the boss’ office, for both of their sake.

"Of course, silly. No questions asked," y/n answers with a smile, and her willingness to put herself in potential trouble, warms Harry’s heart from inside out.

"Y/n, you’re an angel, a life savior," he grabs her shoulders in each of his hands, his gratitude painted all over his soft traits. "Fuck, I could kiss you right now." The words fly out of his mouth without him realizing their significance after spending the last ten minutes coming onto her. And well, y/n isn’t too opposed to the idea either, and she thinks she might hold him to that promise in retribution for her saving grace when the time and space works better in their favor. "Alright Casanova, let’s get your ass out of this mess," she grabs her purse form the table and takes his hand to guide him through the cluster of people milling around the office space, eventually reaching the row of elevators across the room.

As they stand waiting for their lift to come, Harry starts fidgeting with nervous energy, feeling like a kid who’s about to get caught trying to steal straight from the cookie jar. "Shit, alright, we have to be discrete if we want to pull this off," he tells her, not taking his eyes off the room in case someone would look at them and read their plan straight off their guilty-looking faces.

"Says the guy in the flashy suit," y/n immediately counters, in an attempt to revive the playfulness of their synergy. The night was going swimmingly before the whole ordeal, and she’s convinced this foxy little adventure can only add to the appeal of an evening full of surprises.

Harry’s indignation at her dig teeters from his pouty lips, "hey! It’s not that bad." She giggles at his poor rebuttal, and as the doors of the elevator open, they quickly take a few steps inside.

"Harry, that suit is so loud, it could break the sound barrier," y/n teases as she eyes the crowd of people frivolously chatting away, while waiting for the door to close back.

"Thought I cleaned up nicely," he cheekily throws back her words from earlier, letting them resonate within the small confines of the elevator as they make their way up to their boss’ office.

She turns to face him then, a smile spreading on her supple lips, "don’t get me wrong, you look wonderful, just nowhere near decent for a secret spy mission."

Her words have him beaming back at her in a second, his mind fixated on her compliment rather than how impractical it is that his clothes are flashier than the Queen’s; in his defense, neither are y/n’s. "Damn, just got upgraded from nice to wonderful, this night is actually turning around," he chirps as the door open to the deserted hallway of the top floor.

"Alright, more action and less flirting, Styles," y/n playfully chides him. "Go get the right file, while I open his door, we should be quick in case he decides to bring the tour and his special guest up here." She sends him off with a tilt of her chin in what she knows to be the direction of his office, and Harry complies with ease and starts backtracking a few doors down, "yes ma’am."

While he’s gone to fetch the correct document from his office, y/n rummages through her purse to find the key of her boss’ office and unlock the door. Once she’s inside, she makes her way around the imposing mahogany desk commanding the space, and finds the imposter file sitting innocently on the polished wood. For pure curiosity’s sake, she starts leafing through its contents and lets a small chuckle as she takes in the endearing work of a young aspiring writer.

Her reading is interrupted by Harry’s hurried strides when he joins her in the room. "Here’s the damn report," he flings the folder on the desk next to his niece’s, red clashing with blue, mocking him for his slight negligence. As he absorbs the sight of y/n’s face engrossed in the teenage’s fiction, he moves slowly behind her, getting a glimpse at his niece’s whimsical words over her shoulder, before his eyes settle on the bare skin of her back.

Y/n welcomes his sudden proximity, has stranding on end as she feels the soft puffs of his breaths against her neck. "Your niece is quite the writer, does she always come to you for advice?"

She ignores the shivers running down her spine, and gulps when Harry’s voice greets her ears in a deep quiet hoarse, closer than she excepted, "usually, yeah. I was the one who got her into writing, so it’s kinda become our thing, I guess."

She smiles at his softness, "that’s really sweet," and draws in a long breath in a vain attempt to calm her jitters. She can almost feel his presence on her skin though they’re technically not touching, her fingertips tingling in anticipation.

Another frisson travels through her when he responds with a low "mhm," his nose slightly grazing behind her ear, taking in her beguiling fragrance. Jasmine and vanilla, fresh and soft, exciting and comforting at the same time; it suits her perfectly.

"Harry-" she doesn’t know what to follow the whisper of his name with. Careful? Not here? Please don’t stop? At this point, she wants nothing more than to succumb to his affections, regardless of their improper whereabouts.

Harry brushes the back of his index down the smooth skin of her back in a featherlike caress, "thanks fo’ saving my ass, tonight," he murmurs into her ear, before laying a small kiss behind it.

Y/n is exulting under his tender ministrations, her eyes closed to enhance the feeling of his touch. "Anytime," she breathes out as her head tilts backward, a hand coming behind his neck in a silent plea not to let go, and Harry smiles against her skin at her receptiveness, goosebumps of his own blossoming across his body.

His next words are out of his mouth before he can think, "mmm, I owe you a big one," his playful persona resurfacing now that the situation was handled. They snort in unison at the double-entendre, and Harry slides his free arm around her waist to bring her closer to his chest in silent remittance. Y/n doesn’t mind though, she kinda likes this boyish side of him, but she can’t let him know that just yet.

"Gross."

"Hilarious."

Their ping-pong of wisecrack is back despite the tension permeating the air. It’s the kind that speeds heartbeats and moistens palms in lustful anticipation, the kind that curtails people’s breath as their lungs fill up with voluptuous aphrodisia. "Will you let me kiss you? Show you all my gratitude? I really wanna have a taste, love," he pleads for her permission, and y/n is too consumed by desire to deny him, "have it."

In one swift move, he spins around and latches his eager lips onto her. Passion ensues, hands roaming all over each other to find the perfect hold; the back of a neck, the lapels of a suit jacket, a few strands of hair, the curve of an exposed ribcage, it’s all intoxicating but there is always more to explore. Their tongues are caught up in a heated tango of their own, swirling around each other to quench the thirst of passion, licking their lustful way around their mouths.

At one point, Y/n finds herself pressed against her boss’ desk, one leg around Harry’s waist as he attaches his hips to hers in a heated embrace that leaves them breathless upon parting. He rests his forehead against her temple as they both process the intimate exchange, not ready to burst out of this fairy bubble. "Fuck, been waiting to do that for a while," he exhales with a smile, still incredulous at the evening’s proceedings, and the girl nestled in his arms.

"Same," she agrees and gently cups his face to bring his eyes back to hers, barely believing the adoration and warmth swimming within his lovely olive irises.

Harry’s heart feels like a ticking bomb about to implode, the sweet taste of her lips already providing him with a fix he didn’t know he was addicted to. "One more," he demands against her mouth before diving into another searing kiss. This time his hands explore more meticulously, scavenging for other soft spots to add on to his mental list. The dimples in her back right above the curve of her ass seem to rival the area at her side right below the swell of her breast, but Harry is pretty sure he’ll find more sensitive spots in the near future. Hopefully.

Once again, the need for oxygen compels them to part way, but neither of them make a move to separate their tangled limbs. Y/n is reveling in the moment she’s been daydreaming about for months, "so good," she keeps whispering sweet nothing against his lips while rubbing her nose against the bridge of his.

Harry clears his throat as he regains his bearings, realizing that there are still very much in the middle of their boss’ office, a place they are not supposed to be in, doing stuff they’re not supposed to be doing. At least not here. "Let’s get outta here, yeah?" he brushes a strand of hair that fell in front of her face, "you can kick my ass at that game of pool as promised, and I’ll tend to yours once we’re back at my place, what’dya say?"

And well, how can one say no to that?

➪ Masterlist

#harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #Harry fic #harry styles au #ofc #reader insert #coworker!harry #office au #fluff #flirting #harry styles fluff

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imjustthemechanic · 4 years ago

Photo

The Price of a Soul

Part 1/? - Agent Russel Part 2/? - The Letter Part 3/? - Miss Lake Part 4/? - The Stewardess Part 5/? - An Assassination Part 6/? - Fallout Part 7/? - Face to Face Part 8/? - Deals, Details, and Other Devils Part 9/? - Baggage Part 10/? - Private Funding Part 11/? - Just Passing Through Part 12/? - Party of Four Part 13/? - Resolute Part 14/? - The Wreck Part 15/? - Body Snatchers Part 16/? - Out of the Frying Pan Part 17/? - A Miracle Part 18/? - A Matter of Circumstance Part 19/? - Nome Part 20/? - The Future Part 21/? - A Hero’s Welcome

Captain America’s return is big news, which meant that it will not be a surprise to Daniel.

Takeoff the next morning was delayed a little longer, as Howard said he needed to go see a man about some dogs. This turned out not to be a euphemism – he had purchased a team of sled dogs to send to Resolute and replace the ones the army had shot. That was fine with Peggy, because it gave her a moment to figure out what she was going to do next.

When they got to Los Angeles, the SSR would doubtless be there to meet them. Daniel was probably frantic, both because he was about to meet Steve in flesh and because he doubtless wanted to know how that would relate to his future with Peggy. Masters would probably have doctors lined up to give Steve another physical, since he would want to extract as much information as he could from the living man. That would give Peggy a moment to take Daniel aside, tell him an abbreviated version of the story, and perhaps give him some reassurance that she wasn’t going to run off with Steve.

Not immediately, anyway.

The problem was deciding exactly what she was going to say. As the plane roared through the sky, she was happy to let Steve, Howard, and Jason play cards with Kay, while she took some time to think. She would need to let Daniel know what Kay had told them… that she was a Soviet defector from the future. She would need to let him know that whether that was true or just an excuse, the woman did seem to know what she was talking about. And she would have to explain the proposed next step.

Peggy had enough faith in Daniel to be sure that he would want to do the right thing, even if he were worried about what Steve’s return might mean. He wasn’t the type to hold a grudge. Neither was Steve, thank heavens. She could count on both of them.

That would only last so long, however. Kay’s quest would be a distraction for a while, but eventually Peggy would have to make a decision about her own future.

“Okay, show me your cards,” said Steve in an accusing voice.

Peggy looked up to see Kay beam as she turned her hand around to display all four queens. She hadn’t been paying much attention to the game, but Peggy was pretty sure the woman had an entire extra deck secreted about her person.

“You’ve been cheating this whole time!” Steve said, reaching for the pile of cigarettes they’d been using as chips. Kay snatched them away.

“She has?” asked Jason. He and Howard were both trying to play through their hangovers, and neither had noticed.

“Is this all part of your master plan to make us trust you?” Peggy asked.

Kay’s only reply was to take one boot off and pull four more queens out of it. The men groaned and tossed their cards on the floor as she laughed at them.

“You shouldn’t smoke anyway,” said Kay, tucking the cigarettes into her coat. “It’s bad for you.”

Steve, who had been prescribed tobacco for his asthma as a teenager, looked at her suspiciously. “Is it really?”

“Gives you cancer,” said Kay. “That is bona fide knowledge from the future that you will all thank me for someday.”

Everybody got rid of their coats and boots as the plane came in for a landing in Los Angeles. They’d been able to wash and change their clothing at the hotel in Nome, but Peggy was still looking very much forward to a long, hot bath. She would talk to Daniel first, of course, but by tomorrow Steve’s return would be in all the papers and the press might want to talk to her. Now that she’d healed from Kay’s spray attack, she had no intention of facing them without makeup on.

Unfortunately, that choice was very much made for her. As the army’s plane taxied towards its hangar, Peggy looked out the window to see there was a crowd gathered. The hangar was decked out in red, white, and blue bunting, and expensive cars were pulled up. When they came to a stop and the back of the plane opened to let them out, somebody was there to unroll an actual red carpet for the passengers to walk along.

Masters straightened his tie before heading down the ramp to address the crowd with a smile on his face.

“Governor Warren, Mayor Bowron, ladies and gentlemen of the press,” he began. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, and I am here to tell you that those rumors are…”

Peggy could almost hear the collective breath being held as Masters held the pause for dramatic effect.

“… absolutely true!” He beamed. “Captain America is alive and well!”

Steve knew that was his cue. He sighed and heaved himself out of his seat. “You’d think being dead would earn you some vacation time,” he muttered, but went to stand next to Masters and wave to the ground. Flash bulbs popped and a brass band began playing America the Beautiful. Howard, never one to miss out on the spotlight, hurried up to stand on Steve’s other side and join in as the Mayor of Los Angeles and the Governor of California, with their wives, came up to be introduced. Right behind them was a figure in a tan suit, leaning on a crutch… Daniel. Peggy closed her eyes and wondered what he must be thinking right now.

“I can make it look like an accident,” Kay offered.

“No, thank you,” sighed Peggy. “If anybody’s going to kill Vernon Masters I prefer to do it myself.”

“I’m not joking,” Kay told her.

“I’m not entirely sure I am,” Peggy replied.

One of the soldiers came running up to hand Steve his shield – they’d ruined his uniform cutting it off him in preparation for the autopsy, but the shield they’d saved – and Steve held it up to wild applause. The politicians led him to a red convertible that was waiting, also hung with patriotic fabric and with a flag flying from the back, and police vehicles gathered around for an escort.

“Are they going to have an actual parade?” Jason asked, watching this motorcade drive off. The brass band was climbing into a bus to follow.

“Looks that way,” said Peggy.

“Car accident?” Kay suggested. “Heart attack? I’ve got several things that can induce a heart attack. Fall down the stairs?”

“I’ll think about it,” Peggy said.

The crowd began to disperse, the flash bulbs stopped, and the soldiers who’d accompanied them started to troop off the plane. Peggy took this to mean that she and the other plebes could leave as well, and grabbed her things to head down to the tarmac with Kay and Jason. By this time, somebody had already come to take the red carpet away.

Among the few people who stayed behind was the contingent from the SSR. Daniel was waiting there nervously, and did not approach as Peggy walked down the ramp. Something pulled in side her heart. She knew that if Steve had come back as a corpse, Daniel would have been right there to hold her and help her to deal with it. Steve coming back alive was something he was no more prepared for than she had been.

“Hello, Daniel,” she said.

“Hi, Peggy,” he replied.

Plainly he was not going to take the initiative, so it was Peggy who went up and put her arms around him. “That was horrid,” she said.

“Yeah.” He hugged her back… and was it her imagination, or was it a little tighter than usual, as if he were afraid of her vanishing? “I guess you probably need to go and…”

“And what? Join the parade?” Peggy stepped back. “Look at me, Daniel, I’m hardly fit to be seen in public. All I want right now is a cup of tea and a good night’s sleep, but I need to tell you what happened up there.”

Daniel nodded. “Masters intercepted Dr. Wilkes’ request for backup from Stark Industries,” he said. “And…”

“No, no,” Peggy told him. “There’s ever so much more to it than that.” She looked over her shoulder, and found somewhat to her surprise that Kay was still there. It didn’t seem beyond her to vanish into the first crowd she found and never be seen again. “I don’t think you two were properly introduced…”

Kay came up and offered a hand. “Chief Sousa,” she said.

“This is Katerina Lachkova, Katherine Lake,” Peggy said, having decided for now to keep Kay’s real name to herself. She had no proof that Natalia Romanova was less of a pseudonym than any other this woman had used. Katerina Lachkova would get the point across. “She claims to be a Soviet defector, and has more information for us than just Steve’s location.”

Unsurprisingly, Daniel looked skeptical.

“I know,” said Kay. “I wouldn’t trust me. I cheat at cards.”

“She does, but I cannot deny that at least one thing she’s told us is entirely true,” Peggy sighed.

Daniel pressed his lips together for a moment. “Okay. You ladies go get cleaned up, and we’ll talk.”

He squeezed Peggy’s shoulders and then stepped back to let the women get in one of the cars. Peggy felt as if something inside her were being torn to pieces. He was trying to look like it wasn’t affecting him, but he desperately needed to be reassured. What reassurance could she give him when she didn’t know, herself?

Peggy didn’t know if it were a good idea or not, but she pressed a quick kiss to Daniel’s cheek before getting in the car. Kay got in and sat down next to her, feeling around on the seat beside her for a moment before sitting back and scowling.

“What are you looking for?” Peggy asked her.

“Nothing,” said Kay. “Force of habit.”

Daniel went in a different car. Peggy watched him get in, then looked away from the window as their own vehicle started to move.

“Sorry,” Kay said.

“Hardly your fault,” Peggy assured her.

“Actually, yes, it is,” said Kay. “Like I told you, if I weren’t here, nobody would have found Steve until 2012. You’d have been married to Daniel until 1955, when he was shot by an undercover HYDRA operative.”

Peggy blinked, and then covered her mouth in horror at the mental image. “So… if we aren’t married, will he not…”

“I have no idea. I doubt it would have made a difference,” said Kay. “Anyway, if I manage to get my to-do list done, that will never happen anyway.” She sighed. “But I’m sorry for putting you in this situation. I’m not very good at having emotions, but I’m good at reading them. I figured you’d be happy to see… Captain Rogers, because I knew he always wished you two had gotten your happy ending. I didn’t stop to think about you making your own happy ending after he was gone. Now I’ve ruined it.”

Peggy didn’t know how to reply to that. If she’d gone into this knowing everything Kay had just told her, would she have done anything differently? No… no, she would not, because there were so many ways in which this was not about Peggy. Steve deserved to live. Sergeant Barnes deserved to be rescued. Howard deserved to feel like he’d brought some good into the world. Peggy’s personal problems were nothing next to that.

“I suppose I’ll just have to figure it out all over again,” said Peggy.

“I can’t even tell you what should happen, because I’m flying blind from here,” Kay admitted. “Free will, isn’t it great?”

“Are you so very sure that changing the future is a good idea?” Peggy asked her. “Isn’t there always the possibility you might make things worse?”

“Too late to worry about it now,” said Kay. “I can’t skip ahead and check and then come back and tweak it. I’m just here… making it up as I go along.” She offered Peggy a weak smile. “Just like everybody else.”

“Well, you do have a few…” Peggy tried to find a better metaphor, but was forced to fall back on the unfortunately obvious. “A few more cards up your sleeve, let’s say, than a normal person.”

“Don’t worry,” Kay replied. “I’m going to play every single one of them.”

#fanfic #captain america #agent carter #peggy carter #steve rogers #steggy #fix it fic

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enbyleighlines · 5 years ago

Note

Wangxian modern au drabble where one of them gets a little jealous?

Ahhhh, okay, okay! I know this one isn’t everyone’s fav trope, but I personally don’t mind it as long as there is a healthy resolution to the jealousy. So yeah! That’s what I’m going to do here!

I’m also using this as an opportunity to explore one of my headcanons! Since “Wuxian” can translate to “no envy”, I think it would be neat if Wei Wuxian was just... completely immune to jealousy. Like, he doesn’t understand it at all. Which would naturally lead to conflict with Lan Wangji, the king of jealousy

Anyway... I hope you like it, anon!

—

Dating Lan Wangji is like a dream come true. Wei Wuxian has never been happier. Between their blossoming romance and getting to raise A-Yuan together, Wei Wuxian thinks his life might just be as perfect as it’s ever going to get.

A couple of months in, though, Wei Wuxian notices a strange little habit Lan Wangji has taken up. Or, rather, Jiang Cheng brings it to his attention.

Specially, the fact that Lan Wangji often bites the soft underside of Wei Wuxian’s wrist.

The first time it happened, Wei Wuxian had yelped and accused Lan Wangji of acting like a dog. But he didn’t tell Lan Wangji not to do it again, and sure enough, it became a thing between them.

Wei Wuxian thinks it odd, but charming. Lan Wangji is often both odd and charming.

It doesn’t occur to Wei Wuxian that the new behavior could be a response to something, until he notices that Jiang Cheng can predict, with alarming precision, exactly when Lan Wangji is about to chow down. Wei Wuxian knows this because Jiang Cheng always looks away right before it happens.

They’re at an end of the summer barbecue at the Jin-Jiang house when Wei Wuxian decides to determine, once and for all, what Lan Wangji’s biting means.

Most people have gathered by the grill to socialize, since it’s already getting a bit chilly outside. A-Yuan and A-Ling are chasing each other through the yard, with swords cut out of construction paper. Besides the kids and their guardians, the friends present include Jiang Cheng, Jin Zixuan’s three siblings, Qin Su’s girlfriend Zhao Zhiruo, Mian Mian, Wen Qing, Wen Ning, Lan Xichen and his wife Nie Yuyan, Nie Mingjue, and Nie Huaisang.

Wei Wuxian strategically waits for Lan Wangji to head back into the kitchen to grab them both another can of iced tea. As soon as his boyfriend leaves his side, Wei Wuxian rushes to Jiang Cheng.

“Hey, dearest Didi?” Wei Wuxian asks.

“Gross,” Jiang Cheng scoffs, “Don’t ever fucking call me that again. What do you want?”

“Tell me how you know when Lan Zhan is going to bite me.”

Jiang Cheng reacts predictably, which means he flinches away and scrunches up his face like he’s got a mouth full of lemon. “Excuse me, what?!”

“You know, when Lan Zhan does that thing.” Wei Wuxian demonstrates by nipping his own wrist.

Jiang Cheng’s nose scrunches up even further. “Ugh, you mean that gross power play thing he does? Why do you think I would even want to discuss that—“

“Power play?” Wei Wuxian is so lost.

They both spot Lan Wangji at the sliding glass doors to the patio. Jiang Cheng yanks Wei Wuxian close to whisper into his ear. “Try getting all cuddly with Wen Ning and see what happens.”

When Jiang Cheng releases him, Wei Wuxian is even more confused. What does an occasional bite to the wrist have anything to do with Wen Ning? And why did Jiang Cheng refer to it as a “power play”? A power play for what?

This obviously merits further investigation. Wei Wuxian decides he needs to find Wen Ning.

Wen Ning is a little off to the side, watching the children play. He has a soft smile on his face, which widens even further when Wei Wuxian throws an arm over his shoulders.

“Hey there,” Wen Ning says, “How are you enjoying the party?”

“It’s good,” Wei Wuxian replies, “How’s the apartment hunt going?” He and Wen Ning used to share, but ever since he moved into Lan Wangji’s place, Wen Ning has struggled to pay the rent all by his lonesome.

Wen Ning shrugs gently. “It’s not the best,” he admits.

An idea tickles the back of Wei Wuxian’s mind. He’s recently more or less moved into Lan Wangji’s room, leaving his own room empty night after night—

But the thought is only half formed, and then Lan Wangji swoops in, completely derailing Wei Wuxian’s train of thought.

“Your iced tea,” he says, and offers it to Wei Wuxian.

“Thanks,” Wei Wuxian says. He lets go of Wen Ning and reaches for the can, only to have his wrist snatched by Lan Wangji’s free hand. “Wha—“

Lan Wangji lifts the wrist to his mouth, gives it a kiss, and then a bite.

Wei Wuxian watches the teeth clamp down into his skin. The pressure is just enough that it kind of stings, right on the edge of pain. Lan Wangji’s teeth leave behind pale marks which fade after a few seconds.

Wei Wuxian glances off to where Jiang Cheng stands. He watches his brother roll his eyes and turn away.

Then Lan Wangji lets Wei Wuxian’s wrist go, and places the can gently into his slack palm. He holds the cold metal against Wei Wuxian’s racing pulse until he regains his senses enough to establish a firm grip on the tea.

It was just as Jiang Cheng said. Wei Wuxian had gotten “all cuddly” with Wen Ning, and then Lan Wangji bit him!

Wei Wuxian frowns. He decides he needs to experiment some more.

—

Wei Wuxian spends the afternoon trying different things. He finds excuses to become physically affectionate with others, and waits to see if Lan Wangji bites him.

So far, he’s found that physical affection is, in fact, the trigger. However, it doesn’t work with everyone.

Wei Wuxian can get as clingy as he wants with Jiang Yanli, Jiang Cheng, A-Ling, and A-Yuan, and Lan Wangji doesn’t bite him. In fact, any interaction he has with the kids seems to have the opposite effect. More often than not, it will prompt Lan Wangji to lean over and kiss his temple.

Some results are less conclusive. Jin Zixuan, Lan Xichen, and Nie Yuyan fall into this category. After contact with any of them, Lan Wangji will kiss his wrist, but no bite will follow.

The rest definitely produce bites. For some reason, Lan Wangji seems to bite the hardest when Wei Wuxian gets affection with Wen Ning, Wen Qing, Mian Mian, or Mo Xuanyu. Those four seem to be in their own category.

After dinner, Wei Wuxian tries to figure out some sort of pattern. Children earn him a kiss on the temple. That one is easy enough. His siblings have no effect whatsoever on Lan Wangji’s behavior. But, for some reason, Lan Wangji’s own sibling does, only he only prompts a kiss on the wrist.

It’s all rather puzzling, and Wei Wuxian is starting to think maybe it’s more random than he’s giving this strange behavior credit for.

But then Lan Wangji pulls Wei Wuxian aside, hand clamped tight on his wrist.

Wei Wuxian waits for a kiss or a bite, or both, but nothing of the sort happens. As soon as they are out of earshot of the others, his wrist is released.

“No more teasing,” Lan Wangji says.

“What?” Wei Wuxian’s head spins. His boyfriend sounds... angry? But he can’t think of any reason why.

“No more teasing,” Lan Wangji repeats.

That doesn’t help Wei Wuxian at all. Had he been teasing anyone? More than usual, anyway? He doesn’t think so. He rubs his wrist, which is getting a little sore after all of the biting it’s received. Over time, Wei Wuxian has learned that sometimes Lan Wangji needs to be asked clarifying questions, or else he’ll just keep repeating himself.

“Okay, so.... who am I teasing?” Wei Wuxian asks.

Lan Wangji’s eyes narrow. “Me.”

“You?” Okay, now Wei Wuxian is unsure if he’s dreaming. Has Lan Wangji been experiencing an entirely different barbecue?

“Me,” Lan Wangji repeats, “Making me jealous.”

“Jealous?” Wei Wuxian repeats the word, as if it’s foreign to him. In truth, it’s not an emotion he has much experience with. All his life, he’s tried to be grateful for what he has. It always felt selfish to wish for more.

“Yes. Jealous.”

Wei Wuxian watches his boyfriend. The gears in his head start to turn. It takes a second, and then Wei Wuxian suddenly understands everything.

“That’s what the bites are about?”

Lan Wangji’s face twists. His hand takes Wei Wuxian’s wrist again, lifts it to his mouth. But he still doesn’t kiss or bite. He just speaks into the sore skin there. “You... you just realized?”

“I guess so.” Wei Wuxian wonders if he’s dumb for not figuring it out sooner, or if Lan Wangji’s dumb for expecting him to figure it out at all.

“Yes.” Lan Wangji’s eyes dart up to Wei Wuxian’s face, but he continues to partially muffle his words against Wei Wuxian’s wrist. “When I get jealous... I want to remind myself.”

“Remind yourself of what?”

Lan Wangji’s eyes dart to the side. “That... you are mine,” he mumbles.

There’s a sharpness to Lan Wangji’s words that sends a delicious little spark of warmth down Wei Wuxian’s spine. He laughs nervously, startled by his body’s unconscious reaction. “Of course I’m yours,” Wei Wuxian blurts.

“Hence, the reminder.”

Lan Wangji’s voice is so husky... Wei Wuxian wants to kiss him. But that would be bad, right? They should probably talk about this.

“Right,” Wei Wuxian says, “But, when you say you get jealous... are you worried I’m going to cheat on you or something?”

“No.” Lan Wangji’s answer comes quick and firm. “You are a virtuous person. You would not cheat...” His voice trails off, and the ‘but’ goes unvoiced.

“But?” Wei Wuxian prompts.

“You could... fall for another,” Lan Wangji finishes, “Love someone else.”

Wei Wuxian barely holds back a snort. He knows it would be inappropriate, but the idea seems so outrageous to him! Who else would Wei Wuxian love, if not Lan Wangji?

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says, “I’ve been in love with you since the first day we met. I didn’t know it at the time. I was young and I misunderstood my feelings for a long, long time. But now I look back at that time, and it’s so obvious to me! I’ve been in love with you since day one.”

Lan Wangji’s eyes lock onto his, as if searching his very soul.

“It’s true,” Wei Wuxian insists, feeling frantic, “Lan Zhan, do you know how many people I’ve gone out on a date with?”

The question seems to cause Lan Wangji physical pain. “A lot,” he grits out.

“That’s right! A whole lot. Mostly girls and in college even a couple of guys. And how many have I kissed?”

Lan Wangji’s breath hitches. He doesn’t reply, though.

“Only one!” Wei Wuxian is so desperate, and he knows his voice is climbing high because of it. But he needs Lan Wangji to know. Wei Wuxian feels like he’ll suffocate if Lan Wangji doesn’t understand. “I never kissed any of them, because I... I always got cold feet! And I never knew why. It just didn’t feel right. But with you, I didn’t hesitate. I’ve never hesitated with you! I think it’s because I’ve been holding out hope for you, this whole time!”

Lan Wangji does kiss Wei Wuxian then, right on the lips. It’s a little too rushed, and the angle isn’t quite right.

But Wei Wuxian feels the warmth of Lan Wangji’s breath on his lips, and the simple sensation melts away all of his hysteria. He kisses back, to remind himself. To remind himself of their deep bond.

Wei Wuxian thinks he may understand where Lan Wangji is coming from, after all.

They part soon after, both aware of the fact that they are outside, and that they have friends and family waiting nearby.

“Do you... dislike it?” Lan Wangji asks.

“Hmm?”

“The biting...”

“Oh.” Wei Wuxian pauses to think. It’s a good question to ask, actually. He knows if he says he dislikes it, that it won’t ever happen again. And Wei Wuxian suddenly really doesn’t want that.

“I don’t dislike it,” Wei Wuxian says, “I dislike thinking you don’t know... that you doubt my love.”

Lan Wangji gives him another, more brief kiss. “I’m sorry. I... don’t want to doubt. But it’s been so long.” His words come slowly, like he has to drag them, unwilling, from his heart. “All this time, I thought my love went unrequited. Ten years. Ten years of unrequited love.”

Wei Wuxian lets that sink in. He can’t imagine the pain. He’s been blissfully unaware of his own feelings this whole time, happy just to get Lan Wangji’s undivided attention once in a while.

Lan Wangji takes his silence the wrong way. “I’ll stop biting,” he says.

“No,” Wei Wuxian protests, “I like the biting. Please don’t stop the biting. But maybe...” A metaphorical light bulb flickers on within his mind. “In the future, can you only bite me when we’re alone?”

Lan Wangji blinks. “Alone?”

“Yes, alone.” Wei Wuxian smiles weakly. “You can even count them, the bites you want to give me. And then, while you bite me, and remind yourself that I’m yours, I’ll remind you, too. I’ll tell you just how much I love you. Over and over again, until you have no choice but to believe it.”

“Yes,” Lan Wangji breaths. He sounds incredibly in favor of the idea. “Yes, Wei Ying. I’d like that.”

“Good.” Wei Wuxian nervously peeks back towards the party. There is definitely at least one person pretending not to look at them. “How about one more kiss, and then we go back to the barbecue?”

Lan Wangji smiles, and nods. And then they kiss.

#asks #anon #anonymous #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #mdzs modern au #drabbles #leigh’s writing

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theseerasures · 4 years ago

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Conspicuous Media Consumption, 2020

it’s that time of year again! *saddest toot from the party horn*

for those of you just joining us: it’s a “consume a different content every week for 48 weeks of the year” challenge. for a longer explanation, check out last year’s write-up here, and as always, feel free to pop in and ask questions about any and all of this content.

(same disclaimer as last year too: content for this project ONLY here, and not certain...*looks at my billion Sad Cop Lady posts*...hyperfixations.)

(man remember when i was big into X-Men comics earlier this year? better times than these, if only because no one's discoursing about Emma Frost’s woobie/war criminal ratio anymore--her w/w, if you will)

(...i swear at one point i didn’t exclusively like platinum blondes but alas)

Bitter Root (comic, 1 issue finished 1/1/2020): still very cool on a basic concept level, but runs into the Image Comics problem of just not having enough content to keep my interest beyond that. part of that is on me, for picking it up again BEFORE the second arc rolled out, but the first five issues didn’t really follow (or resolve) any cohesive story either, so...meh.

Immortal Hulk (comic, 3 trades finished 1/17/2020): still not gonna be something i care deeply about (maybe one of Bruce’s Hulksonas dyed his hair???), but i do want to give kudos to Al Ewing for sheer consistency in terms of sustaining this level of quality storytelling month by month for more than two years now. working with the dense archive of the Hulk mythos and managing to make it interesting and thoughtful is impressive even if i personally would not expend the same effort.

Disco Elysium (game, finished 1/18/2020): honestly i should have twigged onto what this year was gonna be like when the third thing i drew from the barrel was pure uncut Eastern European flavored depression. i faintly recall people ragging on it for being pretentiously cynical, but i actually thought its core slid more towards idealism than people give it credit for. also gratified that i haven’t heard anything about Robert Kurvitz using slave labor to finish it, which is a thing we have to say about our video games now!!! fun.

Watchmen (TV, 7 episodes finished 1/27/2020): i am a fool who wants to believe in Damon Lindelof and I WAS RIGHT!!! honestly still cannot believe that he pulled off this highwire act with such deft aplomb. might be my favorite TV this year, which is a pretty high bar given how much TV i ended up watching.

On a Sunbeam (comic, finished 2/1/2020): Tillie Walden rightly deserves all the praise for inventive queer storytelling, but i will say that on reread--since i first read this as a webcomic--there ARE some issues with pacing here that clearly come from the foibles of its original intended medium. still just excellent, even if after some plot significant haircuts i was having trouble telling a few folks apart.

Lazarus (comic, 1 trade finished 2/8/2020): it’s so good and i want moooooorrrreee--though obviously Rucka and Lark have the right to take all the time they need. the newer longer issues work really well with the epic prestige drama vibes of the story! i’m into it.

The Good Place (TV, 4 seasons finished 2/18/2020): i’m gonna be super honest: i actually wasn’t a big fan of the finale, nor the last season as a whole. it felt like all of Eleanor’s flaws vanished for a majority of the season, and the Chidi-centric episode where they tried to give a legible justification for why he’s Like This was...i didn’t care for it. still, it’s so good and unique on the WHOLE that we’ll literally never get anything like this ever again, and that counts for a lot.

The Old Republic (game, finished 2/21/2020): it’s an MMO so it will never actually Be Finished so long as the servers aren’t shut down, but i caught up on the content i’d missed in the intervening months. Onslaught thus far has mostly been...kinda bland tbh; going back to Imps vs. Rebs after all the shakeups in the previous expansions feels like a waste.

High Road (album, finished 2/22/2020): someone should tell Kesha not to say that word!! otherwise i was very happy with this album, and happy FOR her even though we don’t know each other. being able to find joy again in the same genre of music you made while you were being horrifically exploited is very cool.

Young Justice (TV, 13 episodes finished 2/28/2020): given how much the middle stuff dragged--STOP KILLING YOUR HIJABI CHARACTER IN HORRIFIC WAYS--i was...actually kinda mad by how the end managed to stick the landing anyway. the day being saved by Vic’s self-acceptance and Violet’s sublime compassion was A+, and even the Brion/Tara switchup was a pleasant surprise, though it relied on me caring about Brion MUCH MORE than i actually did.

Manic (album, finished 2/29/2020): do people still care for/about Halsey? i feel like even That One Song that was on every tumblr gifset ever has kinda faded into obscurity at this point. this album was...okay. i feel like people give Halsey a pass for extremely obvious lyrical turns that they wouldn’t for other folks because of her subject material--which is fine. not really my cup of tea, but i also listened to lots of Relient K this year, so that’s probably a good thing.

Jade Empire (game, 3/10/2020): the only 3D-era Bioware game that didn’t franchise out, and for good fucking reason!!! the Orientalism and appropriation really haven’t aged well, and even beyond that the story was...standard Bioware faire. even my usual “my wife’s a bitch i love her” Bioware type didn’t do it for me, and i just ended up romancing no one. it did make me think a lot about what level of cultural borrowing is accepted nowadays, and why: people still look fondly at Avatar and talk about how ~accurate and respectful it was, for example, despite it being staffed almost entirely by white folks, and the Orientalism ALL OVER the monk class in DND is still fine for some reason.

Alif the Unseen (book, finished 3/31/2020): interesting to have read this AFTER reading The Bird King last year, because it highlights how the intervening years have shifted G. Willow Wilson’s thematic interest and improved her craft. i’m actually quite fond of how her characterization work is rougher here--Alif is extremely flawed to the point of being insufferable, but it makes his development by the end more satisfying. Dina is also just good and i love her

Baldur’s Gate (2 games, finished 5/31/2020): well, having finally finished the series i’m happy to say that it...still doesn’t really do it for me, sorry. any awesome story moments were overshadowed by the EXCRUCIATING inventory management system and the combat (i still don’t know what a THAC0 is and at this point i’m afraid to find out). these games crucially lack the Home Base that later Bioware games were so good about, and that (coupled with the huge cast of characters you can drop off and never see again) really hurts the intimacy for me. by the time we finally did get one it was the Hell Dimension in Throne of Bhaal, and i was just...trying to get through it. (yes, i did just say that about one of the most beloved expansions ever to one of the most beloved games ever.) THIS particular iteration of “my wife’s a bitch i love her” was very good, but the game wouldn’t let me romance her :(

The Underground Railroad (book, finished 6/19/2020): honestly what is there even left to say at this point! it was exactly as good as every critic on the planet said it was, even with my usual aversion to hype. draining and horrifying in turns but still insistent upon a future for Black folks.

Steven Universe (6 seasons and a mooooooviiieeee, finished 7/11/2020): yes, i DID finish the show and almost immediately begin a rewatch. this series is now one of my top five most formative things, and the amount of love and respect i have for it is incalculable. that said: i once again did not love how the central conflict of Future was resolved (just the resolution--i loved the finale just fine). for all of Steven’s breakdown was built up, resolving it with “EVERYONE HUG HIM UNTIL HE CRIES” felt...cheap, especially since up until this point the show had been so good about treating trauma and mental illness with the respect and nuance it deserves. it made me wish some of the earlier, less substantial episodes had been cut so we could spend more time at the end.

What It Is (comic, finished 8/19/2020): y’all i love Lynda Barry SO MUCH. for the longest time i was worried that One Hundred Demons was more a lightning in a bottle situation but every book of hers i pick up makes me feel obscure emotions i didn’t even realize existed. the compassionate way she’s able to describe her child self and how weird and fucked up she was (and still is) is honestly aspirational.

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (TV, 5 seasons finished 9/26/2020): so here’s a reversal of what i’ve been complaining about with other shows: i was mostly lukewarm-to-warm about She-Ra, but the later seasons and the finale made me much more into it as a whole. more shows should improve in stakes and overall quality as they age tbh!! i still don’t actively love Catradora (my sole quibble with season 5 actually has to do with the way Adora kept backsliding as a character to make certain Plot/Relationship things happen), but i’m very happy for them nonetheless. i can certainly appreciate a show that will go for High Feeling over tight plot. dark horse standout moments: trees growing everywhere proving that Perfuma Was Right, and Hordak and Adora seeing each other--that weirdly intimate moment of recognition.

Fetch the Bolt Cutters (album, finished 10/7/2020): again i find myself not having much to say that no one else has said. it’s good! once again love it when an artist reclaims something they’d attached with negative affect (anxiety, depression, disordered eating) for better and brighter things.

Solutions and Other Problems (comic, finished 10/25/2020): i was very into Allie Brosh’s ambition with this book, which feels weird to say but i stand by it. it’s cool to see an artist try to make a new medium work for them instead of just sticking to what already works. not all the experimentation was 100% effective, but it was still delightful and occasionally devastating to read, so.

Legend of Zelda (3 games: Ocarina of Time, Majora’s Mask, Link Between Worlds, finished 11/1/2020): this was the third time i’d played Ocarina of Time, which made it the nice, comforting groove i settled into before Majora’s Mask blatted me in the face. i’m not usually a completionist Zelda person because...the gameplay in Zelda is bad, do not at me it just is, but i really felt like i HAD to be one for Majora’s Mask since the whole point is to get attached to the banalities of the town. i’m sure nobody’s surprised that i loved it, even if it gave me an existential crisis about how life goes on in the game for NPCs when you’re not there to save them from it, and there’s not enough time to save them all all the time (also not a surprise to anyone: Romani and Cremia gave Personal Feelings). Link Between Worlds...bad. not like in a “this is a bad story by every measurable gauge” way, but i was already struggling with the 2D playstyle shift enough that for the whole story to end with some “yes it’s v sad that Lorule is Like This but trying to steal Hyrule’s privilege is Even Worse Actually” noblesse oblige bullshit left a VERY poor taste in my mouth, this year of all years. i did audibly gasp when Ravio took off his mask, though. i’m currently playing Breath of the Wild in cautious increments; it’s the first time i’ve enjoyed early Zelda gameplay, but if they wanted fully voiced cutscenes i wish they got voice actors who...knew what words sound like.

folklore (album, finished 11/6/2020): my belief that Taylor Swift is Just Fine continues, i’m afraid. i LIKED this album, don’t get me wrong, and respect her constant drive to innovate, but i didn’t love it substantially more or less than any other Taylor Swift album. mostly i’m just tickled by how she thinks leaning into the indie aesthetic means borrowing Vita Sackville-West’s entire wardrobe, though i will admit to feeling Something when she swore in a song. i think it was like. savage vindication?? you go ahead and swear, Taylor Swift. you deserve it.

Shore (album, finished 11/19/2020): do people still care about the Fleet Foxes? i think there was some Drama with Josh Tillman a while back but i don’t remember where the discourse landed with who was being more problematic. it was nostalgic for me to listen to their new album--made me remember being an undergrad who exclusively listened to men who mumbled and played acoustic guitar all over again.

Star Wars (3 movies: original trilogy, finished 11/27/2020): there is So Much bad Star Wars these days that every time i rewatch the original trilogy i’m afraid that they will suddenly be bad, but guess what! they’re not. i love these children and their hot mess stories, i love that Lando doesn’t know how to say his best friend’s name. what stood out to me this time was the way Obi-Wan described the Force in A New Hope, which strongly implied that ANYONE can be Force Sensitive; that obviously faded with each subsequent movie, but part of me does wish they’d kept it.

X of Swords (comics, 22 issues finished 12/5/2020): i am enjoying Hickman’s X-lines!!! not so much here for the Grand Conspiracy or whatever, but the character work and highkey weirdness is fabulous--they FEEL like X-Men, despite all the shakeups in-universe. this crossover is a nice microcosm of all that: grandiloquently all over the place, but still full of cool standout moments and genuine hilarity. ILLYANA DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO SPELL MAGIC.

Fire Emblem (4 games: Sacred Stones, Path of Radiance, Radiant Dawn, Awakening, finished 12/14/2020): this was the thing that i was closest to giving up early on, but i ended up hyperfixating on it instead. that’s a credit to what the gameplay does to my lizard brain more than anything else, because the story and character writing is...insipid. it was very bizarre to witness this franchise blunder around with its animal-people racism allegory around the same time i was getting back into RWBY, and ITS animal-people racism allegory blunders. Awakening was the first time i felt anything for the franchise beyond “teehee red units disappear make exp bar go up and brain go ding,” so i’m excited for more mature storytelling in subsequent games (they MUST get better. they MUST). the child husbandry thing is...very bad tho, and Apotheosis being “challenging” entirely through the game changing all the rules is also bad.

once again no vidya games that came out this year--i’ll probably pick up Spiritfarer or Hades after the New Year, though (or maybe TLOU II! but probably not. sry Laura and Ashley). more TV and franchises this year, which made me feel In Touch with the Children but was also kinda exhausting. nothing was so egregiously terrible i dropped it without finishing! in a year like this that feels almost like an accomplishment

#conspicuous media consumption

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salamanderskin · 5 years ago

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Respite

Still on the CR kick with no sign of easing. Just a sick Fjord feeling sorry for himself and then feeling guilty about it. Caduceus gives him such much-needed softness. Set during episode 92 no spoilers I think. Kind of a follow up to this because stifles give me life.

The mood in the group is strange when the Mighty Nein ride out from Zadash.

Fjord loves them all but his head aches just trying to keep track of the aims and worries and triumphs that bind their little group; he can read the tension rising from Beau like steam, Jester beside her with a combination of concern and bubbling joy at her new found father. Then there’s Caleb and Nott and Yasha and then there’s Caduceus. He feels like he needs a whole extra brain to think about Caduceus with and maybe a whole extra heart to hold the bond that has grown between them in the past few weeks.

His head really does ache, though. His throat feels hot and dry, with a lancing pain when he swallows, and he can’t stop sniffling every five minutes. His mood darkens in sync with the clouds that thicken on the horizon. He would give a lot to be safely back in the Xorhaus, meditating in the magical sunlight of Caduceus’s garden, rather than pounding across these monotonous grasslands on horseback.

He feels small and selfish just thinking about it. They are in the midst of trying to stop a war and chasing resolution for dear friends trapped by years of trauma. One of their group was possessed until, like, last week, others have been or are about to be reintroduced to their respective abusers. And Fjord has a cold.

He still feels shitty, though.

He is distracted from this minor complaint when the party finally find a place to stop. The gentle, grassy slopes offer no cover, but they could see anything coming a mile away. For example, they soon spot someone else’s campfire a little way away. Nott and Jester leap to investigate. He lets them go. If they need backup they’ll yell. Loudly. Let them do the legwork while he sits down.

That leaves the other three to set a fire while Caleb conjures the tiny magical hut which is their home away from home. Fjord can’t seem to get warm. He inches closer to the fire until the smoke irritates his eyes and rubs at his arms with his palms to try to gather some heat. The itchiness in his nose has grown intense and distracting- he hovers a hand near his face to scrub at it but the irritation with neither leave nor crest into a relieving sneeze. His throat burns and he feels overall miserable. “Hey, are you ok? You look… I don’t know… you look frustrated.”

That’s one word for it. He doesn’t want Caduceus to worry, but he also knows the Firbolg can see right through him so he explains, “Remember how you said I might be getting sick?”

“Oh dear,” Caduceus’ mouth twists in sympathy.

“Nothing serious, I promise you. I’m just-” Fjord sniffles in demonstration, demonstrating how he can hardly breathe through his nose. He regrets it immediately when it makes him cough.

“Can I come check you over?” Caduceus approaches, gaze soft and concerned.

“There’s really no need, I’m sure it’s just a cold.”

Caduceus raises an eyebrow. “What if I want to be sure? I don’t want you to feel badly.”

“Well then, I’ll humour you.”

Fjord doesn’t expect the contact needed for the diagnosis to come in the form of a kiss to the forehead, but it’s very lovely. The magic feels like a little trickle of warmth, though perhaps that’s just the butterflies he always gets when they make contact.

“Okay.” Caduceus says, drawing back. “I don’t think a healing spell will do much, but I’ll put something for the congestion in some tea, alright?”

“Sounds good. Thank you.”

The dark has truly drawn in now. The sky has clouded and there are no stars. A little wind ruffles the long grasses, makes the campfire leap and the smoke veer from side to side so that there is no getting away from it. After their time in the city is strange to be somewhere so open. No buildings, no mountains, no break in the horizon. The sky arcs above them like a great upturned basin, thick with clotting clouds.

It would be peaceful if it wasn’t for how the cold makes Fjord’s nose drip and his head ache. He feels thoroughly sorry for himself and then immediately feels childish for it. He has been getting soft from all the city living. He presses the sides of his nose again, trying to push into his sinuses and ease the dull pain there.

Caduceus returns just as he is blowing his nose, passes a cup of tea to Caleb, then to Yasha then approaches with one for Fjord. “Here you are. Drink it while it’s hot.”

The firbolg looks lovely in the firelight, Fjord thinks. The warmth touches his ashy gray to a warm dove-colour and when he turns his head, the clean lines of his cheeks and brow stand out like a statue of some forest god. Caduceus has added a knitted shawl over his shoulders but he doesn’t seem cold at all. Fjord envies him that. It must be the fur. He sees Caduceus turn to sit on a stump on the other side and quickly moves up to make space beside himself.

“Want me to sit beside you?” Caduceus asks.

“Yes please.” Fjord says. He wants more, of course, so much more than that, but that is a good start. His friend’s body settles beside his and he feels his mood lift even as he shivers. Their thighs press together and he leans in to the comforting warmth of the firbolg’s flank. Caduceus has some height on him, which makes it wonderfully easy to lean his head into his shoulder.

Before Fjord can protest, Caduceus removes his shawl from his shoulders and spreads it over both their laps. Fjord gives a little hum of thanks, lets his eyes drift closed in the sudden, soothing warmth of it.

Fjord could probably fall asleep here. He almost does, if it wasn’t for how badly he needs to sneeze. He manages to cup his hands over his face, though he doesn’t need to, really; there isn’t any sound to it, just a ferocious bob of his head and a whole-body shudder. He scrunches his nose and clenches his eyes shut to try to fight the tickle, then flinches into another repressed “hh- mmkx!!!” He breathes out a “uuugh” of a groan at how stuffy he feels afterwards.

“Was that a sneeze?” Caduceus turns to look at him with an expression he can’t quite read.

“Y-up- hknt!” Fjord nods, forefinger jammed up under his nose, sneezes again. It makes his head throb. “--hhnxxt!”

“Oh! Bless you, then.”

“Thadks.” His voice comes out thick and wrecked. “Guhh… ’scuse me.”

It’s almost worth it for how Caduceus draws him closer and rubs his back.

They are startled from the embrace by a shout and a blur of blue as Jester sprints toward them out of the dark and then away again, calling for Nott.

Fjord raises his head, peers out into the night and strains his ears for sounds of a struggle. Across the other side of the fire, the others are on equally high alert; Yasha drawn to her full height, Beau with her night-vision goggles, Caleb’s gaze gone vague as he sees through the eyes of his familiar.

“Do you think we should-?” Caduceus begins.

“They... seem to have a handle on the situation.” Caleb gives with a wry smile and everyone relaxes. If Caleb hasn’t launched himself protectively after the little goblin then they must be safe enough.

Fjord laughs too, as he wonders what shenanigans the two most chaotic members of the nein had got up to out there in the dark. It turns into a fit of coughing that blossoms in his throat and won’t stop until Yasha has passed him her water skin.

“Better not, think I’m coming down with something.” He manages with the scraps of breath he can grab. “I’ll risk it,” Yasha’s voice is steady and sweet as ever, so he drinks. It does help, and it helps even more when she reaches to give him a hug from one side. “I hope you feel better soon, Fjord.”

When Nott and Jester finally return it is with laughter on their lips and not a slip of regret for running into an enemy camp in the middle of the night.

Once he might have rolled his eyes at their celebration of escaping trouble they could have easily avoided, then seethed with a gut full of worry that one day they might not come out clean, snapped at Nott and brushed off Jester’s affectionate advances. These days he feels calmer, more trusting, able to accept things as they come. Some of it is a gift from the Wildmother, the same deep faith which Caduceus glows with. Some of it is Caduceus himself. His very presence makes Fjord feel lighter.

He watches the Firbolg lean over the fire, lit like a stained-glass window as he conjures a bowl of stew seemingly from nowhere.

He sits beside the fire and listens to his teammates recount their chaotic adventures with a sense of calm in his belly and Caduceus’ shawl over his knees. He pinches his nose hard and groans, trying to stave off sneezes but now then a few still escape.

He shudders into his fist, with no more sound than a “-hh'nkt” of suppressed force,

They’re as quiet as he can make them, but Caleb’s head perks up all the same, brows canted in his familiar expression of mild concern. “Gesundheit.”

“Looking a little green there, buddy.” Nott adds.

“Oh no, Fjord, are you sick?” Jester’s head snaps round in interest.

“Just a sniffle.” He shrugs. He’s not the one who should be the centre of attention tonight. Beau and Nott are.

Thank the Wildmother, Caduceus Clay’s deep, steady voice distracts them from making a scene, “He’s fine. Jester, tell me how you met those bandits before?”

Once again Fjord admires Caduceus’ mild diplomacy. The light conversation is exactly what they need to keep their minds from the path ahead. Beau in particular has expressed she won’t be talking about her traumas to the group in general,while Nott doesn’t seem to know what she wants right now.

Fjord himself is deeply grateful because he has to sneeze again and this time it escapes him as an orcish “hhuhh--’TSSSHHHuu!” He groans and swears as he blows his nose afterwards. Caduceus’ arm is there for him to lean into when he shivers despite the fire.

“I think you should go to bed,” Caduceus says softly.

Luckily the rest of the Nein are of the same mind, so Caleb conjures the magical dome they use as a shelter. It’s warmish inside and warmer still when their bodies pile in next to each other. They take their familiar places; Yasha takes first watch, Beau and Jester are spooning while Nott curls at Caleb’s feet like a gnarly green cat. Fjord and Caduceus lie beside each other, as always. At some point on their travels, the foot of space between their sleeping bodies became an inch, became Fjord with his head pillowed Caduceus’ chest or their fingers intertwined. No one in the Mighty Nein has even teased them about it. Yet. That is a blessing Fjord will enjoy for as long as he can.

It’s almost pitch-black inside the hut. Fjord can hear the others of the Nein breathing and shifting in their close proximity. He wants to sleep but his head feels stuffed and thick. Breathing through his mouth is making his throat dry but he can’t get enough air any other way. In frustration he pinches and knuckles at his nose, wiggling it in hope of easing the deep-seated itch. It doesn’t help.

Instead he feels his breath coming in shallow pants, makes an involuntary “ghhh” of a groan at how congested he feels. He manages to sneeze into his fist without more than a shudder of his head but then there’s another and another in a slow, exhausting fit with plenty of time for miserable sniffles in between.

He is hovering between one “ hh'nkt” and the next when he feels a tender arm on his shoulder as Caduceus scoots up closer to him. He rolls over obligingly until his head is cradled against the firbolg’s shoulder. In a moment their blankets are settled over both of them, welcoming him into a pool of shared body heat that makes him sigh in satisfaction.

It’s still recent enough to be novel, this sleeping together, still sends a flutter of joy through him that Caduceus is his now. They haven’t talked about what it means exactly, but he’s so glad of it, especially when he feels like this.

The moment is interrupted by a stinging itch in his nose and all he can do is buck his head and stifle a sneeze into Caduceus’ chest. His partner doesn’t flinch, just holds him tighter and lets it happen. “Bless you sweetheart. Are you done?”

He nods, then shakes his head and desperately crushes his nose into his fist for a hard double “--mmkx!--’nkt!”--- Repressing it makes his head spin. He relaxes again with a heavy sigh and turns to wipe his nose. He’s too congested for it to be messy, thank goodness. It feels like all the gunk is just stuck up in his head. At least he’s not noisy enough to wake the others.

“Poor thing. Feeling worse?” Caduceus notices. His bass voice is so low it is barely a rumble in his chest. Fjord thinks he feels the vibration rather than hears it.

“...yeah…” He admits.

“Such bad timing…” Caduceus sighs softly. “If we were back in the house, I have a very good soup recipe for this kind of thing. The hot tub would be good for you too. I could take care of you a little.”

Fjord snuffles thickly and sighs. That does sound good.

“Will you two SHUT UP!?”

That sounds less good. That would be Beauregard.

She has reason to be tense, which is why Fjord merely grunts “Sorry!” instead of snapping back. Her complaint is backed up by some light grumbling from Nott and by Caleb clearing his throat in a way that makes it clear he is also awake. Despite the safety of their position, it seems nobody is sleeping well tonight.

Fjord may as well try, though. He’s going to be groggy enough in the morning as it is and he wants a clear head for the confrontation with Beau’s family. Well, a metaphorical one at least.

He rolls over and closes his eyes, trying to will his mind away from his burning throat and the compulsive deserve to keep swallowing against it. He tries to reach for the place Caduceus has shown him in meditation; a lulled state where his body of least possible concern. It’s hard without his breathing as a reliable guide but he is beginning to manage it when he feels Caduceus tuck into the space behind him. A seven-foot tall firbolg makes a luxurious big spoon. It makes Fjord huff a laugh, which makes him cough.

Caduceus cuddles against him, bringing blessed warmth along with comfort. Long arms reach around to smooth his hair and linger on his forehead, rubbing right at the root of Fjord’s headache without even having to ask. It feels really good.

In the darkness of the dome he hears the heavier breathing that means Beauregard has fallen asleep. Jester turns over and makes an undeniably cute sound. Beneath Caduceus’ loving touch he feels the fatigue wash over him, pulling him down into sleep.

From the very cusp of consciousness, he senses Caleb rise and tiptoe to sit at the doorway beside Yasha, but feels no tug of concern. Let the two light sleepers keep each other company. He has everything he needs right here.

Fjord falls asleep to the sound of a gentle rain beginning to fall. He doesn’t dream of angry Gods. He doesn’t dream of anything at all.

#salamanderskin's fic #sickfic #hurt/comfort #teahaw

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dontgotothenetherworld · 5 years ago

Text

i myself am cruel and unusual

one day i thought up the line, “lyds what is it you say? 'because i myself am cruel and unusual'?" and this story really blossomed around that one idea. this was really fun to write, and i went a bit outside my usual writing style, so i hope y’all enjoy this!

beetleb*bes, don’t touch this.

2271 words

cw: mention of murder

lydia lounged on the sofa, leafing through her novel, a gothic spanish mystery that she found behind a dusty stack at her local book store. it was quiet, with charles at work, barbara, delia, and adam out shopping, and beetlejuice attending to business in the netherworld, lydia had the house all to herself.

lydia wasn’t used to the silence. it disturbed her. between the off-putting difference in her normal surroundings, and reading about people being conveniently murdered, lydia was on edge. her shoulders were tensed. every few sentences, she’d glance around, searching for something else out of the norm.

she’d learned from the last time she was home alone. beetlejuice had said he was going to be out, but he hid. he played the long game, and after hours of blending into the background, he scared her, and he scared her good.

rather proud, lydia had gloated that she couldn’t be scared, and the afternoon was a chip to her ego that she’d rather forget.

lydia enjoyed reading, but often found it hard to focus, so she was cherishing this day. even though a little voice in the back of her mind telling her, “do your chemistry homework!”, she kept on.

a low popping sound made its way to her ears. lydia looked up to see the familiar pin striped suit.

”that was horrible. did you even try?” lydia closed her book, keeping her place with her index finger.

”try what?” beetlejuice had a distant look in his eyes.

”to scare me. duh.” lydia replied.

”i wasn’t trying to scare ya, lyds. anyway, if i wanted to, i definitely could.” beetlejuice said quickly. “by the way, what’s that thing that you usually say?”

”what thing?”

”y’know, the whole, uh, “because i myself am cruel and unusual” thing.”

lydia stared at him blankly. “this is a joke, right?”

”no, is it or is it not what you say, come on lyds i need an answer quick.”

”i say “because i, myself am strange and unusual.”” lydia said, her face in an expression of annoyance.

”thanks lyds! you’re the best!” another pop, and beetlejuice was gone.

lydia puzzled over why the ghost would need to know her catchphrase that she didn’t even say very often, before resolving in light giggles.

”cruel and unusual…” lydia muttered to herself before returning to her book.

now safely assured that beetlejuice wasn’t going to try to scare her, lydia sunk back into the cushions, and lost herself in the book. she kept reading, turning each page with vigor, desperate to see how the story ended. what did it all mean? how did all these little clues fit together?

lydia wasn’t able to keep track of all the hints toward the mystery, so she was solely relying on the pages to figure it out for her.

her eyes widened as-

”lydia! we’re home!” delia called from the front door.

lydia shushed her as her eyes skipped over the words.

”we got c-” delia continued, confused, before lydia shushed her again. she had to read as fast as physically possible.

lydia had to put her book down. she wasn’t yet finished, but she figured it out.

”as i was saying, we got cookies from that cute new place next to the bank. spoiler alert, i already tried one, and they’re delicious!”

lydia fake scoffed, “spoilers.” she said playfully.

adam peaked out from behind a wall, “where you referencing..” lydia nodded. “yes!” adam pumped his fist in the air.

delia asked, “what were you referencing?”

”i doubt you know it.”

”c’mon, tell me.”

lydia sighed, “doctor who.”

”who?”

”doctor who. more specifically, river song.”

”you’re just saying random words in a random order, you can’t do that just to confuse me! i’m onto you!” delia shouted as lydia, with book in hand, made her way up the stairs and to her room.

”i’m not trying to confuse you, delia! it’s a real thing!” lydia shouted back, before closing her door. she propped her pillow up against her headboard, and slipped her soundproof headphones over her ears, searching for that same serenity she had while reading earlier.

i didn’t quite work, she was still able to hear a bit of a commotion going on downstairs, but it was fine. she only had a few pages of resolution left anyway.

five minutes later, lydia hopped back down the stairs and into the kitchen, with one side of her headphones off her ear. “so,” she started, “i was told we have cookies.”

earlier and a week later to that day, lydia was practically buzzing. her birthday had been that previous wednesday, and she had only asked for one thing; to get her hair done.

now, in the hair salon, accompanied by delia and a ghostly adam, it was about to happen. her hair was presently a little longer than shoulder length and an inky black, with her natural brown roots showing slightly. lydia explained to the hairdresser how she wanted it; a blonde bob.

the trio was there nearly all day. which was a good thing, because charles, barbara, and beetlejuice were working away back home. lydia had claimed that she didn’t want a birthday party, but her family suspected it was because she didn’t want to have to invite any of her school friends. so, they were throwing a family-only party. a surprise party, decked out with as many black or purple decorations as they could buy, with quite a few handmade ones as well.

beetlejuice and charles were in charge of all the decorations, so to say the overall effect was eclectic would be an understatement.

barbara, who had recently discovered her passion for baking, was baking a cake. the batter was mostly chocolate, but there was a second, vanilla, batter throughout the cake, in an attempted spider web kind of look. it didn’t really translate until barbara explained it.

beetlejuice kept crossing through the kitchen to sneak some plum colored icing.

”have you put lipstick on?” asked charles to beetlejuice.

”no, why? do you think i should?” said beetlejuice. when he opened his mouth, charles could see his purple stained teeth and tounge.

deciding to ignore this, charles said, “oh, nevermind.” and went back to draping streamers, mentally calculating how long all of it would take to clean up.

the group of party planners met lydia and her entourage on the steps in front of the house. they all commented flattery as lydia showed off her new look.

”okay, now close your eyes.” said barbara.

lydia was confused, but obliged. barbara held her hand, and guided her through the door and into the home.

once safely inside, she dropped her hand, and ran to the kitchen. “don’t open your eyes yet!” she shouted as adam lit the last candle on top. barbara picked up the cake, and the couple walked back to the living room.

”you can open them know.” said charles.

lydia opened her eyes to see halloween in december. there were fake cobwebs and fake spiders everywhere. (at least lydia hoped they were fake. truth be told, the real things freaked her out a bit.)

”thank you! thank you guy so much!” tears were fighting to break away from her eyes. lydia gave everyone a big hug, except for barbara, who was still holding the cake. when she turned to the ghost, everyone began singing happy birthday, and lydia finally started crying full on tears.

she blew out the candles, all sixteen of them, in one breath.

”okay so important question; cake or presents first?” asked beetlejuice, who not so secretly hope cake was first.

”presents?” asked lydia, turning around. she finally spotted a small pile sitting where she normally resided on the sofa. “well, i have to get to those first.” lydia walked over to them.

”i’m just going to put this down in the kitchen, i’ll be right back.” said barbara.

when barbara returned, lydia gave her the hug that she owed her, before sitting down to inspect the presents.

”which one should i open first…” there were four relatively small packages. charles’ gift to her being the trip to the salon, of course.

”you should save the best for last, so not mine.” said beetlejuice.

lydia chuckeld, and started on her gift from delia. a black crystal necklace.

”you probably don’t want to know what it does, but i thought i would fit with your whole,” delia gestured with her hands. “vibe.”

”you got it just right.” lydia grinned. “you’ll have to rip it from my cold, dead body in order to get me to stop wearing it.” she said, as she fastened it around her neck.

delia tried to ignore the gruesome comment, but everyone could tell it bugged her.

”i hope you like it!” adam said as lydia began to rip open the gift he had gotten her.

she opened the cardboard box to find a lilac mug, with a ceramic cat at the bottom, and a seemingly infinite number of different teas.

lydia held up the mug and exclaimed, “just like your dog one! now we can be tea buddies!”

”only if you finally try my special earl grey.” adam pointed to a tea at the top of the pile.

”it’ll be a struggle, but i’ll get through it for you.” lydia joked.

moving on to barbara’s gift, and with beetlejuice getting a little impatient (maybe this whole “save the best for last” thing wasn’t really a good idea for this impatient demon), lydia got to the gift quickly. she held up the dark material. “a leather jacket!” lydia immediately went to put it on.

”it’s faux leather, of course. and it’s kind of boring right now, i know that, so i fully expect you to do your whole punk-y diy thing to it.” said barbara.

the jacket didn’t quite fit. it was a little large, but it didn’t entirely go over her hands. it was exactly how she wanted it. “thank you, so much, barbara! i couldn’t of picked it out better myself.”

barbara smiled.

”okay! best for last! open mine now, lyds!” beetlejuice shoved his, hand-wrapped, package into her hands. “read the card first!” he said as lydia inspected the questionable wrapping.

she carefully opened the bright yellow envelope. inside was a piece of light gray construction paper, folded in half to make a card. on the front was a crayon drawing of herself and beetlejuice, high-fiving. the two had sunglasses on, and lydia was saying, “because i myself am cool and unusual.” in beetlejuice’s sloppy handwriting. inside, was a message that read, “love u lots lyds happy sweet 16 & i promise i wont try to marry you again xoxo beeblebouse”

”beej, thank you s-”

”you haven’t even opened your gift, c’mon, open it!” beetlejuice bounced his leg impatiently.

lydia picked up the rectangular box and shook it a little. it felt like nothing was in there. lydia raised an eyebrow.

”open it!”

inside was a square piece of paper, with black words on it; “i owe u 1 kitty”

”beej, what?”

a pop and he had disappeared. the rest of the family looked around, confused.

another pop, and beetlejuice returned, but this time with multiple kitties in hand.

”i call this one sunshine, and this one bastard, and this one mary jane, and this one beans, and this one our supreme and almighty ruler.” beetlejuice pointed at the different cats. “but you can name the one you pick whatever you want, these are just ideas, anyway, pick one!”

lydia was attacked by the little animals. one kitty, a white one with a black spot over its eye licked lydia’s hand. she picked it up. “this one.”

”ah yes, beans. good choice.” beetlejuice said, although he murmured something about our supreme and almighty ruler underneath his breath.

”you should, “charles cleared his throat, “probably take the rest of these back to where they came from.”

”right! yes!” beetlejuice snapped and all the other kitties floated up. he went around plucking them out of the air until he had them all, and pop! went to return them.

lydia hugged beans to her chest.

”are you going to keep the name beans?” asked delia.

”yeah, probably.

”good boy, beans is.” said adam, placing his hand on lydia’s shoulder. and then after a moment, “beans is a boy, right?”

”as far as i know, yeah. but i don’t think cats can really communicate to us what their gender is.” lydia looked up at her ghost dad.

another pop and beetlejuice reappeared. “who’s up for some cake?” he lead the march to the kitchen.

”okay, so, it’ll taste great, it just looks kinda off.” barbara said, getting a knife out to cut slices for everyone. “it’s supposed to have spiderwebs on the inside, not because i think spiderwebs are your favorite thing or anything, lydia, it’s because i thought it would be easy. i was wrong.”

charles placed the plates on the table. “well, let’s dig in!”

barbara cut lydia her piece first, which was practically a quarter of the entire thing. “what are you talking about? barbara, this looks so good!” she shoveled a bite into her mouth and her eyes went wide. “oh wow it tastes incredible too.”

”thank you, lydia” barbara smiled.

once the others had their pieces, beetlejuice took the rest of the cake. it wasn’t a completely unreasonably sized piece so nobody stopped him.

they spent the rest of the night watching lydia’s favorite movies; an odd mix of horor, comedy, and disney.

lydia went to sleep knowing that her sixteenth year was going to be a good one.

@meangirlsx @meangirlmurphy @eliza-is-confused @boredomimi @book--butterfly

just by the way, the book lydia’s reading at the beginning is called marina by carlos ruiz zafon. i’m reading the english translation right now (hopefully the ending is good!) and it just feels like something that lydia would like.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice broadway #beetlejuice fanfiction #lawrence beetlejuice shoggoth #lydia #lydia deetz #adam maitland #barbara maitland #delia #delia deetz #charles deetz #fic

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mystery-deer · 5 years ago

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Angst HC with fluff potential, Kevin has anxiety. Most of the time he deals with it with his and Holt's signature stoicism-and-snark combo, and he does get flustered easily. Rarely, though, things are just too much and he reverts back to a behavior he developed as a child from dealing with his father. He shuts down. He lowers his gaze, goes vacant and does nothing. Ray freaked out the first time this happened but since then has learned to deal with it, but is always deeply concerned. Thoughts?

The first attack he remembered having was when he was young.

He had broken something. He didn’t remember exactly what it was, all he remembered was the rush of his blood cooling all at once as he realized what he’d done.

What was coming.

His mother had sent him to his room without any anger, her own face trying to be stern and comforting all at once as she told him that his father would be home soon. That she’d try to calm him down before he found the wreckage.

Oh, a pen. Yes, it had been a pen. He had taken it from the top of his father’s desk and it had broken as he wrote.

He felt like his heart was going to explode.He was going to throw up.He was going to die.Yes, he was going to die.

The thought kept circling around his head as Kevin sat with his ink-stained hands shaking and then laid down with his whole body trembling and spasming with something he couldn’t quite identify. Fear?

He’d never been this afraid before. It had never rendered him speechless and immobile.

His father had waited half an hour between finding the pen (He could hear him roaring with rage and then talking in loud disappointment “That kid Marie, that kid…” before it was all silence and waiting waiting waiting) and coming upstairs.

He stood outside the door for another minute before opening it. “Sit up.” He demanded and Kevin did.

Then his memory blinked out. A lightbulb with faulty wiring. When it came back on he was washing his hands of the ink as his father looked on.

“I’m proud of you.” He said, resting a hand on his still-shaking shoulder. “You didn’t talk back.”

He wouldn’t have a name for them for years, until well into his adult life one of his friends told him “That sounds like anxiety.”

“Brilliant.” He’d struggled to reply, everything around him unfocused and too much. “I can see why you’re a leader in your field.”

“I mean anxiety disorder.” His friend had clarified, gently leading him out onto the balcony for some air. “You absolute dick.”

He’d researched it the moment he’d been able to.

“Why are you reading about anxiety disorders?” Raymond asked, coming up behind him and resting his chin in the crook of Kevin’s shoulder.

“I believe I might have one.” He replied, reaching one hand up to idly scratch at Raymond’s hair. Neither of them commented on it.

Raymond closed his eyes (much like a cat, kevin often thought but would never voice) and hummed a matter-of-face “I see.” Before quieting and eventually leaving his boyfriend be.

“Are people not always worried?” Kevin asked one day a few weeks later. His researching had given way to formulating hypotheses and questions. “Does the average man walk around oblivious to the world around him?”

Raymond scoffed. “The average white man.”Kevin smirked. “The average straight man.”Raymond nodded appreciatively.

“Perhaps you have no disorder, your life circumstances are just differing from the norm?” Kevin examined his boyfriend’s face for any derision and only saw curiosity. “Perhaps.” He said, thinking back to his childhood. Differing from the norm, indeed.

Whether or not he had anxiety was giving him anxiety.He had a half-dream when he was half-asleep in bed, brain dipped forever in worry, soaking it all up. In his dream one of his colleagues (the annoying one trying his damnedest to grow a mustache) was giving a lecture and pointing ineffectually without a pointer. Just…using his hands. Like an imbecile.

“And here we see Prof Kevin as a wonderful example of dramatic irony.” He was saying in his trying-to-be-humorous voice. The projector showed Kevin pacing around his and Raymond’s apartment.

Kevin woke up when he felt Raymond shift. “Mm.” He muttered.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” His boyfriend whispered and Kevin shook his head.

“Reynolds.” He tried to explain, one eye still closed.

“Your colleague with the…well, I’m feeling charitable. The moustache?” Kevin nodded. “You were dreaming about him? I’m jealous.”

Kevin smiled slightly. Some might call this a smirk, especially given the intense aura of smug dislike emanating off the man. Raymond called it a slight smile. “Don’t be. He was being very…Reynolds.”

“Ah.”

"He called me ‘prof Kevin’ out loud.“ "Dear God.”

They laid in silence for a minute before Kevin spoke again.

“Raymond I don’t know if I have…anything. I am unsure.” Raymond made a noise of understanding and reached out, resting a hand gently on Kevin’s pillow which Kevin took without thinking.

“However, I know that I do have certain issues. You remember my episode that took place in childhood?”

“Vividly.” Kevin squeezed Raymond’s hand to reassure him of his being alright. It always upset his boyfriend to hear about Kevin being upset even if it was years in the past.

“Yes, well there have been…similar incidents since then.” Raymond sat up straight.

“When?” Kevin sat up as well, rubbing an eye.“I can’t remember. Various incidents. What’s important is that should such an incident occur again-”

“There are synonyms of ‘incident’ you know-”

“-I’m very tired Raymond.”

“Sorry, I forgot myself. Please continue.”

“…should such an episode occur again, I will require your assistance.” He moved over and rested his head on Raymond’s shoulder, making a slight show of leaning down to do it.

“I will support you in any way I can.” Raymond said, bringing Kevin’s hand up to his mouth and kissing it softly.

They fell asleep like that.

And so, with a horrible pain in Kevin’s neck and Raymond’s back, they went to work.

Kevin to his literal job and Raymond…also to his literal job, but with an additional personal job as well. Researching on ways to assist Kevin if he were ever to have an attack of anxiety around him.

The first few attempts were less than ideal.

—— (Flashback, Kevin eating breakfast and Raymond washing dishes)-——-

Kevin: It looks like rain today.

Raymond (perking up, alert): Does that…worry you?

Kevin: I suppose. The subway is going to be hell.

Raymond (placing a reassuring hand on Kevin’s back): It’s going to be alright. You are safe.

Kevin: I know. (examining the water on the floor from Raymond’s hand) I will have to change now.

Raymond: Just remember to keep breathing.

Kevin: I’ll try to keep that in mind.

—— (Flashback ends)——–

However, he had persisted in his research and as a result been able to assist his boyfriend through a small series of episodes;

When he’d forgotten his phone at work after telling Kevin that he’d be attempting to arrest “YoYo MaMa” the prolific mother murdering serial killer that day. (He’d come home to find Kevin had re-organized half their bookshelves and abandoned the task midway through to dust the empty shelves instead.)

Kevin’s first work party that accepted plus one’s onto the premises. (They’d both been nervous for that one but it wasn’t until Kevin re-made the ratatouille they were bringing for the third time that Raymond realized he was more than nervous.)

When the news had reported a bomb in the building across the street from Raymond’s workplace. (It had turned out to be a fake threat but when he’d called Kevin after it was all over he’d heard his voice shakier than normal, light with relief.)

And after years of relative peace he had forgotten.

He’d forgotten that this could happen too.

Everything had seemed fine when he’d gotten home. Kevin was researching for an upcoming paper and Raymond had popped in sparingly so as not to disturb him.

When he’d noticed that Kevin hadn’t touched the tea or apple slices that Raymond had left him he’d idly remarked that the apples would brown and Kevin had snapped at him that, “I know the damn apples are going to brown.” and then stared vacantly at the wall.

Raymond had stepped inside and gently shut the door. “Kevin?”

No response. “Kevin, are you ok?” No response, predictably. Raymond’s own heart began to quicken. He didn’t know how to deal with this. He was going to screw up, he was going to hurt him he was-

Kevin wrapped his arms around himself but otherwise remained blank.He had to do something.

Raymond reached out instinctively before pulling his hand back. He had to ask before touching but Kevin wouldn’t speak. He began to pace, racking his brain.

“Kevin can you…hear me?” He asked, trying to keep his questions small and yes/no.

Kevin nodded his head slowly. Raymond breathed a sigh of relief. “Is it okay if I hold your hand?” Kevin nodded again and Raymond took one of his hands without moving his arm.

He had no idea what to do now. He and Kevin usually talked through any issues they had and having him be so…out of it, was disconcerting.

In the middle of trying to puzzle out what to do Kevin suddenly squeezed his hand. Raymond blinked, his heart ached. His Kevin was trying to reassure him, to tell him that he was alright.

Kevin was who needed him right now, Raymond thought, nodding resolutely and squeezing his hand back. He needed to stop thinking and act.

So he did the first thing he could think of.

He began to describe how to make bread out loud, step by step.

“Before you can begin making bread you will need to feed the yeast. This process will take a minimum of half an hour but can continue for longer if that’s how you or your guests prefer your bread. Pour one cup of water-”

He remembered Kevin had been planning to bake bread that afternoon. He remembered that when they had first begun dating he’d said to him, “It’s easy and fun. Homemade bread can be a great gift and the process of making it is quite relaxing.” And Raymond had thought he sounded like he belonged on a cooking show.

He remembered hearing Kevin explain things step by step in a low monotone had often lulled him into a state of calm. Remembered how when he was kept awake by nightmares of crime scene photos and missing persons he was not finding, Kevin would explain to him how old houses were built. From foundation to attic, he’d always fall asleep before Kevin could explain the roof to him.

“-After the first rise you will need to punch it down and shape it once more until it resembles a loaf. Spray the inside of the pan with cooking spray and replace the dough. Watch it rise until-”

He remembered Kevin’s eyes. His laugh and blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smile. His cat-and-mouse way of teasing or tormenting people. Remembered how much he loved him and thought it hard enough that he hoped it came through in his words. He hoped Kevin would be able to understand, to let that love reach him the way he always had before.

“-Place in the oven and bake for twenty minutes-”

“…Twenty?” Raymond paused, hope hanging in the air between them.

“…Yes, twenty minutes.” He waited and was about to continue when Kevin spoke up again, voice soft but there.

“…It’s going to be too soft. It’s much better to cook it for thirty five to forty minutes.” Sensing that he had his boyfriend’s attention, Raymond continued to gently prod at him.

“Well, wouldn’t it be less time consuming? You could always…nuke it.” It pained him to say the words but that pain was immediately eased by Kevin turning to face him, eyes focused and voice solid.

“Nuke it? It’s a kitchen not a missile launch facility.” Raymond smiled, the familiar sentiment assuring him that Kevin was going to be alright.

“Point taken.” He agreed, leaning up slightly to kiss him. “Welcome back.”

“I didn’t go anywhere.” Kevin stated, smiling gently. “Thank you.”

From there they discussed the source of Kevin’s anxiety; Namely, that he had become increasingly worried that he was on the verge of being fired.

Why that anxiety might be irrational; Namely, that he had done nothing wrong, he was a smart and capable man and that Raymond loved him. (Which had nothing to do with the situation at hand but Kevin appreciated it all the same).

And what he could do about it; Namely, ignoring professor Nami who had it in for him and continuing to do his work while keeping his anxiety in mind and taking steps to manage it.

“And you can always let me know if something’s bothering you.” Raymond said, the two of them now eating the apple slices. “Whether it is related to your anxiety or not.”

“I know.” Kevin replied. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“I’m your boyfriend. I want to know these things, especially things that might worry me.” Raymond replied, picking up the now cold tea in order to dispose of it. “Because I care for you and want to support you.”

Kevin smiled and turned to his computer once again, picking up his pen and beginning to write. “I love you Raymond.”

“I love you as well.”

#Q&A #anon #thank you anon!!#Kevin and Raymond are from an older generation so I tried to make them both a bit clueless #not completely but just a little like Huh??#they're trying their best #my writing #Anon: thoughts?#Me: (just fuckin..fic)#I can g ive actual thoughts if you'd like

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beermanoftana · 5 years ago

Text

about pepper

warnings: some swearing, ending MAY seem a bit rushed but for me it kinda worked; edited twice so there are some mistakes here and there (but hopefully none)

notes: this was made for @properlycolorful because she deserves it after all her hard work, also i love her and i wanted to give her a little something

notes 2: i’ve been working on this since september or october 2018 but i finally just finished it due to writer’s block (i wanted the ending to be perfect–which idk if i achieved) and i was training to become a virtual assistant

notes 3: i honestly don’t know if it’s any good but i’m pretty happy with how it turned out, but what really matters is the opinion of who i wrote it for (psst, you know who you are); sorry it isn’t as long as it should be after all these months

summary: when roger takes it upon himself to teach his nephew-in-law, ben, to play the guitar, he finds himself falling in love with his next-door neighbor, pepper, and coming to terms with his ongoing struggle for happiness and intimacy, including how he failed his ex-fiance, georgia. (see the fake film meme here)

“You said you loved–no, love me.”

One note.

“You said you’d never leave.”

Two notes.

“You’re a liar, Roger.”

Another.

She was calm. Too calm. If you didn’t notice how her voice dripped with venom, she showed no signs of anger, no signs of weakness, no signs of betrayal, not even a teardrop of lost hope. “I hate you.” She took off the ring from her finger and threw it on the ground, the first and only sign of wrath as she went out the door and closed it gently.

“Uncle Roger?”

No response.

“Uncle Roger?”

He continued to think of what was wrong with him. Why he had suddenly stopped loving her. He had no qualms about Georgia. She was amazing. Definitely the girl of his dreams. Funny, smart, loyal, beautiful, and most importantly, she loved him. But why? Why did he do that? What was wrong with him?

“Uncle Roger.”

Roger snapped out of his thoughts and looked at his nephew-in-law Ben. He was looking at him with a flat face, just like always. “Great job, Ben. Great job.”

“I’ve only done about five notes.”

Roger looked down at Ben’s blue guitar. His fingers were still at standstill by the strings.

Roger had been teaching Ben how to play the guitar for about a few weeks now every weekend. His brother-in-law’s nephew had a knack for music, singing, piano, even the saxophone, and he’d been wanting to learn the guitar instrument for awhile. When Roger volunteered, Ben jumped at the chance, however, they never really got along. It’s not that they argued, they never did, but Roger always seemed so distant lately and Ben was just a serious kind of kid, it didn’t make a very good match. Nevertheless, Ben was learning and that was good enough for both of them.

“Sorry, Ben, I was just a little…”

“Distracted?”

The older man sighed. “Yeah. I know, I’m sorry. I haven’t been myself lately these past few weeks and I apologize.”

Ben shrugged. “It’s fine. Maybe we should take a break.”

“Sounds good. Do you want me to get you anything?”

“Some iced tea would be good.”

“You got it.”

Roger stood up from his couch and headed to the kitchen. He got a can of beer and a pitcher of iced tea from his fridge. Pouring the contents of the pitcher in a glass, he decided he would want one for himself as well. It was a hot day and drinking beer wouldn’t do very much for the heat.

He had no plans on leaving the kitchen yet, though. He saw his neighbor Pepper out in her front yard, a white sundress and a beach hat on the top of her head. She was cleaning the fallen leaves with a determined look on her face.

Roger’s kitchen window could clearly see the home of Pepper. And he wouldn’t care to admit that he liked seeing his neighbor around. They were good friends, always bringing food to each other’s houses and telling stories whenever they pass by each other outside. It was a good relationship and maybe, just maybe, Roger wanted a bit more than that.

But he knew he couldn’t. Not after everything that happened between him and Georgia. Hell, he didn’t even know what happened between him and Georgia. It didn’t fall apart, it definitely was the same. But Roger knew that he had changed, one way or another it was his fault that they didn’t work out.

That was what had been distracting him these past few weeks.

He attended a party of a friend. He was drinking, chatting and overall having a merry time. But he saw Georgia. She was talking to a gentleman that he hadn’t seen before. Of course, Georgia would be here, the host was a mutual friend of theirs and although he was disappointed to know that their engagement was off, he still found them to be his good friends.

Michael, the host, went over to Roger and whispered, “You know what to do.”

But did he? Did he really know what to do?

“I suppose so,” he whispered back.

He surfed through the crowd until he found himself behind the gentleman. Georgia noticed him and excused herself from her companion. She went over to him and they kissed each other’s cheeks. Roger couldn’t help but think that her cheeks were soft and smooth.

“Georgia.” He gave her a curt nod.

“Hello, Roger,” she greeted. “What brings you here to me?”

It would be their first time talking to each other since the day he broke up with her about half a year ago. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was. How he wanted to take back what had happened. How he wanted her back. But he couldn’t. Not in front of all these people. And because he wasn’t entirely sure if what he wanted was because he was seeing the love of his life or if it’s the truth.

“I wanted to ask you how you are.”

“In what terms?”

“Life, in general. How’ve you been?”

Georgia shrugged but there was a small smile on her face. “I’ve been here and there.”

“That’s not really the answer I was looking for.”

“And you’re not really the person I want to talk to about my life.”

There it was. She was still not holding things well. He doesn’t blame her. They were each other’s everything. Breaking off the marriage a week before the wedding wasn’t exactly the best thing to do to someone who loves you and whom you love back. It just isn’t.

“I’ve been okay,” Roger said lamely. What was he supposed to say? He couldn’t bring himself to apologize without making a scene. “Thought you might want to know.” He rubbed the back of the neck.

Georgia scoffed. “That’s great to know. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get another drink. Want one?”

“Uh…yeah, sure.”

She did get him a drink but left as soon as she handed it to him. Roger drank it in one gulp. “Damn you, Roger.”

And so here he was, staring out the kitchen window looking at his next-door neighbor without her even noticing. He had flirted with her a few times, and she him, but nothing seemed to have come out of it. They’ve gone out to dinner once but it was all just a friendly date for both of them.

“Uncle Roger, you’re staring again.”

Roger licked hips lips and headed out the kitchen with Ben in tow. “Sorry, Ben. Here’s your drink.”

Ben took the glass and sipped. “Uncle Roger, why don’t you talk to Ms. Pepper about how you feel?”

“What makes you say that I have feelings for her?”

“The way you look at her. And I think she’s the reason why you’re always so distracted.”

Roger pursed his lips. “You’ve got a lot to learn, kiddo.” He rustled the younger boy’s hair.

“I’m turning twenty-four.” Ben flattened his hair. “I’m not a kid anymore.”

“You know, that’s what kids always say. And I’m forty, get over it, kiddo.”

It wasn’t long before Ben had to leave. His apartment wasn’t too far but it was getting a bit late.

They weren’t practicing the guitar for the rest of the evening, though; Ben thought it’d be pointless if his Uncle Roger would just be so distracted. So he proposed they talk about relationships.

Ben wasn’t afraid to admit his colorful relationship background. He fancied both men and women. Roger listened to the problems, resolutions and the happy and sad endings of Ben’s stories.

Meanwhile, he talked about his other relationships, how they always failed and he would opt for being with women for a night and leaving them the next day. He couldn’t talk about Georgia, not now at least. So his last topic was Pepper. He told him what they have done since she moved in around the same time he left Georgia.

“You should totally ask her out on a date, Uncle Roger,” Ben suggested. “You’re so into her.”

“Is it that obvious?” he chuckled. He thought about her a lot but he couldn’t say he was so into her. Maybe not yet. “You think I should?”

“Yeah. Why not? Ask her out to dinner tomorrow evening if she doesn’t have plans. I’m sure she’d say yes.”

“I guess there’s no harm.” Roger shrugged. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

And as soon as Ben left, Roger dialed Pepper’s number on his phone. He was nervous, he could feel his heart beating fast, his palms getting sweaty. Finally, she picked it up and he greeted her. “Pepper, hey.”

“Hi, Roger! Anything the matter?”

“No, no. Nothing. Um…I was just wondering if you’d like to go out to dinner with me tomorrow, you know, like a date? If you’re not busy or anything.”

Silence.

“Pepper?”

“Sure, Roger! That would be great. It’s a Sunday tomorrow, isn’t it? I just have some errands to do but I’ll be done before dinner. Where and what time?”

Roger decided on a restaurant he had wanted to try downtown. “We can go together, of course. We can use my car.”

“That’d be lovely,” Pepper said. “Okay, thanks for inviting me, Roger. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Definitely.” When they dropped the call, Roger couldn’t help but let a grin crawl to his face. “You’re the man, Roger.”

Quickly, he went up to his room to choose an outfit for the date. He was a very particular man and he liked knowing what would look best on him on occasions like these. Sure, he’s had his fair share of dates but he liked Pepper a lot more than he thought he did and so he wanted to look as good as possible.

Finally, he chose a blue dress shirt and a pair of brown slacks. He looked good in this one, and he had a feeling Pepper would like it, too. He remembered that she mentioned once that blue was her favorite color.

He had not noticed that the dress shirt he chose was the same as the one he had worn when he proposed to Georgia.

The next day was an exciting one for Roger. He had reserved a table for two in the restaurant they were going to eat in, ironed his clothes, shined his shoes, put gas in his car, and took care of himself as he showered for the night ahead of him. He was all ready to go by the time it reached 6:15PM, just fifteen minutes before their meeting time.

He was checking his watch every minute, muttering how time was so slow. He didn’t want to arrive too early but he did want to arrive on time. So finally, at 6:29PM, he grabbed his car keys, headed out the door and locked the house.

He crossed the street and rang the bell of Pepper’s house. In a few seconds, she opened the door and smiled when she saw him. Her red dress was conservative but it looked good on her, she pulled it off.

“Roger, come in.” She opened the door wider and gestured for him to enter. “I just need to finish putting on my lipstick and we’re good to go.”

Roger thanked her and entered the house. He had been there a few times but always as a friend. He looked at the pictures on the wall as Pepper applied her make-up.

He’d never actually looked at the family photos she had around the house, but one picture caught his eye. It was a picture of her and another man. They were standing so close to one another, he had his arm around her shoulder and she had hers around his waist. A brother, perhaps?

But before he could ask, Pepper had called him and said she was ready.

He opened the door for her and once they were both out, Pepper locked the door. Roger led her to his car on the other side of the street. Again, he opened the passenger door and let her in. He jogged to the other side, got in and started the car.

The drive to the restaurant was awkward and silent. Roger tried his best to think of what to say but his mouth was dry. Pepper simply looked out the window and gazed at the sight.

Finally, they reached the restaurant. He gave the keys to the valet and they entered the restaurant together. When they were seated Pepper commented on how the place looked, it was beautiful and definitely expensive.

Roger chuckled. “But i heard the food is worth it. Let’s give it a shot, yeah?”

Pepper smiled and nodded.

When they were done ordering, Roger finally knew what to talk about. He asked her, “So, what made you decide to take up this date offer with me?”

Pepper shrugged. “I thought it’d be cute. We’ve known each other for awhile so why not? Let’s see how it goes.”

Roger nodded, those for some reason, he wasn’t very convinced with her answer.

They talked, laughed and shared heartfelt stories, stories they never really talked about before. Roger was having the time of his life that not once did he get distracted by the thought of Georgia. In fact, he kept his mind open and wondered if Pepper might be the one he was looking for all along.

The night ended.

Roger brought Pepper to her home and made sure that she went in safely, then he parked his car in his garage and entered his own home. It was quiet and lonely, much different from the atmosphere he had with his date.

“It’s reality,” he said with a sigh.

Pepper had told him that she would love to hang out the same way again, and Roger took that as an invitation, inviting her on another date sometime.

He was excited to tell Ben about his progress. The kid was right, there was nothing wrong with what he did, in fact, it probably changed his life.

Roger went to bed that night with a smile on his face. Later, he would have sweet dreams about him and Pepper.

But then he woke up sometime at around 2AM, sweat covered his body and he was having trouble breathing. He was having a good dream, one that made him happy. It was intimate. Not in a sexual way but more of a…romantic way, perhaps? And although he liked it, a part of him was scared that the dream would become a reality.

He brought his hands to his face. “Fuck,” he groaned.

He was starting to figure out what his problem was. What made him decide to break things off with a wonderful woman. But it was too late now, too late for that. And this time around, he’s gotten another chance. It will take time but he can make it. This time, he won’t screw things up with Pepper. No. Not like what he did with Georgia.

The week passed by so quickly that Roger didn’t expect to find himself face to face with Ben in his front porch with his blue guitar slung on his back.

“Uncle Roger?”

“Ben! I didn’t…I…is it Saturday already?”

“Last time I checked, yeah.”

Roger blinked a few times. He checked his watch and chuckled. “Come in, come in. Get yourself ready. I’ll get us something to drink.”

Ben did what he was told and made himself comfortable on Roger’s couch. He brought out his guitar and strummed mindlessly. Roger came back with two cans of soda.

“Fancy a diet coke?”

Ben made a face. “That’s got no flavor.”

“Just imagine that it’s regular coke but with less sugar.”

Ben took a sip. “It’ll do.” He placed the can back on the table and asked, “So how’d the date go, Uncle Roger?”

“It went great, Ben. It was kind of awkward in the car ride going but as soon as we arrived in the restaurant everything was perfect. We talked, we laughed, we shared stories and it was really just…we had a good time.”

Ben smiled. “That’s great, Uncle Roger. I told you things’ll work out. I knew it.”

“You sure did, kiddo.” He rustled his hair again. “You sure did. I should definitely take some more advice from you.”

“Speaking of advice, I wanted to ask someone out.”

Ben told his story. Roger gave him his take and Ben agreed to them, saying how neat it was. They would only end up practicing the guitar for about an hour. They had an even better time talking. Roger never expected this to happen. He knew this was too good to be true.

Later, when he was alone, Roger thought about all the people in his life. There were his parents, his sister, and now Ben and Pepper. He didn’t include Georgia, or more like, he didn’t want to include her. He would just get so upset. But in the end, he knew that she was the reason why he was more distant with others than he was before. He was scared. He was scared of what would happen if he got too close to people. He wanted to be happy, he wanted to be intimate with others. But something was holding him back. Something he didn’t want to even think about.

Failure.

He was a failure in almost everything. He was a failure with his family, his career, his relationships. He hasn’t forgiven himself for the past but he’d already tried to change for the better and it definitely paid off in some aspects, but he can’t escape who he was before. He can’t escape that he was a horrible person, not in a sense that he was a monster, but in a sense that he was a failure. He failed everyone and that made him a horrible person.

“Fuck.”

He allowed the tears to fall.

He didn’t want to reminisce about the things he had done, but he couldn’t help but wonder…what if things had been different? What if he hadn’t succumbed to peer pressure and hadn’t taken those “medications”? What if he didn’t bum around at his first job with great pay and benefits, would he have gotten one of the best positions there was there? What if he had forgiven himself, accepted who he was now, and not ruin the relationship he had with Georgia?

What if? Just a big what if…

The next few days were uneventful. He talked to Pepper from time to time but neither made a move to get closer to one another since their date. Roger wondered if he did anything wrong.

He had made sure to make things right with Pepper. He gave her the time and space he thought she needed to get her to tell him something, anything, about how she wanted the relationship to go. He didn’t want to force her to do anything so he stayed the same. Chatting with her, bringing her some food, flirting a bit here and there, but nothing had come out of it.

Saturday rolled in and Ben came for another lesson. This time, they really did practice the instrument as he made sure not to distract himself with Pepper. He was worried that things wouldn’t go well between them now that he knew what was the matter with him. He tried, he really tried.

Ben stopped playing. “Uncle Roger, are you okay?””

He smiled. “Was I too attentive this time?”

Ben let out a small smile. “You haven’t talked about Ms. Pepper today. Did something happen?”

Roger bit his bottom lip. “I think I may have done something wrong again, Ben.”

“What do you mean?”

“I gave her the time and space I thought she would need to think about our relationship but she doesn’t seem to be wanting more. Maybe I just give off that vibe, you know?”

“What vibe, Uncle Roger?”

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “No one else is ever going to know me. Before anyone can find out what’s wrong with me, I go the other way. I drop them completely as if they’ve never mattered. Because if I let anyone think of all the ways I’m horrible, I’d hate how they look at me.”

“…like they’re not happy with who you are anymore.” Ben nodded, almost understandingly.

“Yeah.”

There was a pause before the younger man asked, “Do you hate the way I look at you?”

“No. No, I don’t, Ben.”

Ben smiled. “Then maybe you’re getting there. Maybe you’re getting better than before. Maybe you’re not as horrible as you think you are.”

The words stayed with Roger for the whole week as he tried his best to get closer to Pepper. But there was something about her that just seemed so off. Something she wasn’t telling him. Maybe something she didn’t want to tell him.

Finally, he invited her out on another date. But his heart sank when she said, “A friendly date, Roger. Just a friendly date this time.”

And so he agreed, it was better than nothing.

The routine was the same, although they chose a different restaurant. Her outfit was more conservative than before. He had always known she was conservative but it made him wonder why.

Roger whistled. “Hot day, huh?”

“It sure was,” Pepper agreed. “Roger, I…” she paused. “No, I’ll tell you later. Let’s have some fun first.”

Roger was all for that. They told more stories, talked some more and laughed some more. Roger forgot all about what Pepper had wanted to say. A part of him believed that she was finally going to tell him what she thought about them. He had failed to notice that she said “…have some fun first.”

Finally, dinner was over and they were both picking at their dessert.

Roger took in a breath. “So what did you want to say to me earlier?”

Pepper looked down at her plate. “Roger, I’m having a great time with you. Our last date was wonderful and this isn’t so bad as well.”

“But…?” His stomach dropped.

“But…I….” she sighed. “The day after our date, my husband called me.”

Roger was shocked. “Husband? You have a husband?”

“We’re separated. But he called me and said he wanted to work things out. I love him, Roger. And I’ve always wanted things to work out between us. You are a wonderful man. I honestly was putting you in the picture when I was deciding but…I love William more than I could ever imagine. I’m sorry.”

He was finally doing things right. Or at least, what he thought was right. But then this bomb drops on him and he couldn’t help but feel betrayed.

“I didn’t lie to you, Roger,” Pepper said as if reading his thoughts. “We were separated, on our way to a divorce. I had the right to go out with anyone I wanted.”

“You couldn’t have told me that you were married?”

Pepper nodded. “Okay, I take fault in that.”

Roger shook his head. “So you’re heading back to where you came from?”

“I’ll stay a few more months just to make sure that William and I…just in case we don’t work things out.”

“You’ll tell me when it doesn’t?”

Pepper smiled sadly. “I will. But I don’t think I can go out with you again, Roger. We can still be friends but nothing more can happen between us.”

“Why’s that?” Roger asked, hurt.

“You’re in love with someone else.”

Bewildered, Roger asked if she could repeat her statement.

“You’re in love with someone else.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I can see it in your eyes, Roger. There’s another woman out there. And she’s probably waiting for you, too.”

Roger bowed his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Pepper.”

Pepper sighed and asked for the check.

Their car ride back home was even quieter and awkward. Roger waited for her to get inside before rounding to his own home. After parking and getting inside, he dragged himself up to his room and flopped on his bed.

No more Pepper, he thought. No more Pepper.

When Ben came in the next time, he couldn’t even bother to greet him. Ben knew he shouldn’t even speak. But after two hours of silence, he decided it was time to ask.

“Uncle Roger…?”

“She was married, Ben.”

“What?”

“She was separated but her husband said he wanted to sort things out, and she loves him so she’s willing to try.”

“She played you.”

“No.” Roger shook his head. “No, not at all.”

Ben didn’t push anymore. He went into the kitchen got one beer each for both of them.

“Are you even legal?”

Ben rolled his eyes. “I’m turning twenty-four.”

Months later, Roger was fine. He was good. He was okay.

Ben had become a pro and didn’t need to practice with him anymore, but he would come by a few times a month just to hang. They had a bond now.

But something was empty inside Roger.

He tried different dating apps and even asked his friends to hook him up with someone.

He had already made amends with his family, his career is taking off, but something was missing. He knew it was a relationship but he just couldn’t pinpoint which girl he needed in his life. It was annoying the hell out of him.

One day, Ben came around and they talked. Roger opened up about his problem but not even the younger man can help him.

“Uncle Roger, I don’t know what you’re going through. You’re forty, man, and I’m only twenty-four!” This earned him a glare from Roger. “But you’ve tried everything you could do. Maybe you just have to wait.”

“I don’t want to wait.”

Ben shrugged. “I waited until I was nineteen to get drunk. It’s a win-win situation.”

Roger rolled his eyes. Then his thoughts wandered to Georgia. He wondered how she was doing. “Ben, do you mind if I make a call?”

“Sure. I’ll just be here.”

Roger left for the kitchen and dialed his friend Michael’s number. “Hey, Mike…about Georgia…”

He woke up the next day.

It was then he realized that it was Georgia. He had always loved Georgia. It was always Georgia. Georgia never left his heart.

He knew what he had to do. He jumped into his car and drove downtown to the apartment she was staying at. He rode the elevator and cursed whenever it stopped by a floor. When he finally reached her floor, he hurried to find her door. When he did he was out of breath but he still rang the bell.

When she opened the door, Georgia was surprised to see him. “Roger? What’s wrong?”

“Maybe we can start over?” Roger asked, his breath was heavy but hope-filled both his voice and his heart.

“What?”

“Start over. From the very top. If it’s okay with you?”

“From acquaintances to friends…?” Georgia trailed off, but there was a smile on her face.

“And maybe something more in the future?” Roger grinned.

Georgia laughed and shook her head. But then she looked at him, eye to eye. “Yeah, I’d really like that. Just promise me one thing.

“What’s that?”

“You have to believe me when I say I love you and I accept you and I trust you.” There was sincerity in her voice, something Roger knew she always had when they were together. He just always looked right past it.

“Deal.” Roger smiled then held up his hand. “Hi, I’m Roger. It’s very nice to meet you, Miss.”

Georgia followed, a grin on her face. “Hey. I’m Georgia. And I’m very delighted to meet you, Roger.”

#misc: cherish writes

0 notes

writesandramblings · 7 years ago

Text

The Captain’s Secret - p.76

"Here There Be Dragons"

A/N: I'm sorry if the last chapter was something of a hot mess, I just had to get it over and done with, you know? Did you see that one coming? Are the dots starting to connect about what happened and is happening now? Well, the answer still isn't what you think it is, I can promise you that. One by one, though, the dominoes, they are falling. Exactly as they were designed to.

This chapter continues with the events of episode 10, "Despite Yourself."

Full Chapter List Part 1 - Objects in Motion << 75 - The Truth Must Out 77 - Hook Line and Sinker >>

They sat in the lab with cups of hot tea going over what they knew, which was not much. Saru and O'Malley had both been summoned for the occasion and were standing together against the far wall, O'Malley leaning back and looking dazed. Saru seemed unusually alert even for a Kelpien, though the absence of his threat ganglia seemed to indicate that the danger, if ever there had been any, was gone. Lorca had taken Groves' usual seat, Mischkelovitz was in the chair at her desk, Larsson was half-sitting on the worktable because he was tall enough the table was practically a stool in comparison, and Lalana was sitting on the worktable itself. Groves was pacing around in agitation.

The mission to infiltrate the Terran Empire had been pushed to 1200 hours pending some tentative resolution of this Allan matter and "Captain Tilly" had the bridge, for better or worse. At least Burnham was with her.

Mischkelovitz was doing her best to explain. "He never said anything in qoryan until after Mischka died."

"And you didn't think that was odd?" asked Groves, waving his hands for emphasis. He was conducting the interrogation in a bombastic manner. Absent access to the wider world in his youth, Groves had largely formed his impressions of what it meant to be a lawyer by watching legal procedurals from the QORYA cultural archive and it showed. His interrogation style was pure courtroom theatrics, the sort that had gotten him thrown in contempt more than once. It had also necessitated the confiscation of his tea until such time as he stopped spilling it all over the place.

Mischkelovitz shook her head. "I figured he learned it listening to us speak it every day." Allan had been assigned as Mischkelovitz's security detail when she and Milosz had joined Starfleet, ostensibly to protect Milosz's weapons research from parties who would seek to steal it for their own benefit. He had spent twelve years alongside them guarding their workroom.

Groves did not find Mischkelovitz's answer acceptable. "You figured he just learned it by listening!?"

"That's how we learned it."

"Yeah, ten thousand iterations ago! And if Mac can't learn it after twenty damn years, you really think some S.O.B. is going to learn it standing around listening to you!?"

"Well, but Mally isn't very smart," said Mischkelovitz, which was not a kind thing to say when O'Malley was physically in the room and entirely untrue. Lorca had by this point realized O'Malley was perfectly intelligent, even above average, just not as smart as Groves and Mischkelovitz. Their metric for intelligence was totally skewed. Objectively speaking, even if O'Malley were the dumbest person in the room (he was not, it was Larsson by a mile in Lorca's estimation), he was still not as dumb as Mischkelovitz and Groves often suggested he was. Moreover, O'Malley had an emotional intelligence that put both of theirs combined to shame.

"Mischka," said Lorca, arms crossed in Groves' chair. "Again from the top."

After relaying her history with Allan once more, Mischkelovitz sat looking at her hands in her lap, downcast. She felt like she had failed the captain somehow. In a sense, she had, but understandably so. John Allan had embedded himself so thoroughly and for so long into Starfleet that no one had been any the wiser as to his true origins. They still weren't, not really.

That included O'Malley. Yet again the colonel had proved himself useless. O'Malley knew Allan primarily as an ignored piece of backdrop from his sister's life, a man who stood at a door outside wherever she and Milosz happened to be working, and nothing else. They were bunkmates, and he described Allan as amiable, chatty, and friendly, but beyond that, nothing. Oh, he knew Allan supposedly had parents in Nebraska, was an only child, and liked skiing, but Allan was apparently a master of supplying the most generic personal information and deflecting inquiries with affable charm. Mischkelovitz had spent twelve years with Allan and knew even less; she had never thought to ask in the first place and Allan never offered.

"If we were in our universe I could dig up his full personnel file," O'Malley noted, which did none of them any good because they were not in their own universe and Allan had no file in this universe they could consult because he did not exist here.

Which only led credence to the theory.

"We aren't seriously considering this, are we?" asked O'Malley.

"Unless you've got a better idea," said Lorca. The snarky bite in his tone was unmistakable.

"Well, I still think he might have been some kind of alien," said O'Malley, because that was an idea he found easier to wrap his head around.

"An alien who vanished in the blink of an eye," said Lorca, frowning at O'Malley in a clear challenge for an explanation as to how being an alien explained the precise effect of Allan's disappearance.

"Less than a blink," said Groves.

"Entirely less, as I do not blink," said Lalana.

O'Malley looked over at Saru. He was too tired to make sense of it really and was no scientist, but he trusted the one he was standing next to. "What do you think?"

Saru had spent a lot of time taking in information and very little questioning or commenting on any of it. He had been quietly trying to tear the idea apart in his head to determine its veracity and process the ramifications. "The data would seem to fit," said Saru. "We have observed temporal phenomena coinciding with what the captain, Lieutenant Larsson, and Mr. Groves have observed firsthand." Null time, in other words.

"Then we're agreed," declared Lorca. "Major Allan was a time traveler."

"Is a time traveler," said Groves. "I mean, it's not like he's dead."

"No, but I doubt he's coming back," Lorca said. Now that they knew what Allan was, it was reasonable to think he had flown the coop for good.

Mischkelovitz mumbled something. Only Groves caught it. "Fair point. From his perspective, we've probably been dead centuries or millennia, and he hasn't been born yet. Schrodinger's..." He looked for a good word that epitomized Allan and ended up going with the full text of his earlier summation. "...son of a bitch."

Larsson had been largely quiet throughout this discussion. He suddenly jerked as if jolted by something electric. "Living history!" he said, his low voice a veritable boom in the room. Lorca raised an eyebrow in a demand for explanation.

In truth, Larsson was probably as smart as O'Malley, but Lorca did not know the full extent of Larsson's intelligence the way the other Gabriel Lorca had. Lorca had never given his Einar Larsson the opportunity to be anything more than a security officer and had only skimmed this Larsson's history book on the Uanar-Barosic Wars. Like everyone, Lorca had taken Larsson's size as an indicator of his capabilities and neither version of Larsson had ever done much to disavow Lorca of this notion. The two Larssons shared a healthy disdain for duties and responsibility. It made them both seem loutish.

"Something he said one day. That living history is better than reading it or something. Think about it. We are the first ship with a spore drive, and we are the first to visit another universe"—Larsson was unaware of the Defiant files—"so we are probably a big deal in history."

"Yes, but he didn't just come aboard Discovery, he's been with Melly for nigh on twelve years now," O'Malley pointed out.

"That's a hell of a long con just to get aboard Discovery," said Groves. Lorca had to smile faintly at that because he understood the lengths to which a person might go to establish a decent cover story.

Larsson scratched his cheek thoughtfully. "He's probably gone back to the future."

"No," said Saru, "I do not think he has. Unless he possesses the ability to travel between universes, he would only be able to reach the future of this timeline. In which case..." Saru trailed off uncertainly, but Lorca could tell it was because Saru had thought of something significant.

"Well don't leave us in suspense," Lorca demanded.

"Operating under the assertion he is a time traveler, Major Allan would likely not have signed on for a one-way trip to this universe. For all Starfleet knows right now, we are in fact dead in some sort of accident. I must therefore conclude that he had full expectation of making it back to our universe, meaning we will make it back."

"Ah," said Groves, "but that's ignoring one thing: the need to know the unknown. Maybe no one knows what happened to us because we never make it back, and Allan just wanted to solve the mystery by experiencing it himself."

"If he suspected we would be dead, he would likely have used his technology to leave the ship at the moment of the accident and sent us with some form of sensor technology to record the event without sacrificing himself. Since he did not leave, he must have known we would survive."

"And let's not forget the long con," said Lorca.

"Indeed," Saru agreed. "I do not believe Major Allan was here for Discovery at all, but for Dr. Mischkelovitz."

All eyes turned to her. She had been silent for a very long time now. Her response to six set of eyes was to slide off her chair onto the floor and start for the panel that led her sleeping area. (Not for the first time, Lorca wondered what it was like in there. So far as he could tell from the hours he had spent watching Mischkelovitz in null time, things disappeared into the walls that never came back out, and none of those things were cleaning products. He imagined it a dark, smelly mess.)

"Melly," went O'Malley, pushing off the wall and moving towards her.

Lorca did not get up but did his part to stop Mischkelovitz all the same. "Mischka, stay put. That's an order."

She stopped but remained underneath her desk, curling into a ball with her knees at her chin. She started crying, of course. O'Malley crouched down and rubbed his hand on her back in comfort.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered, "it's my fault, isn't it? I make everything worse for everybody!"

Lorca sighed and frowned. He felt bad for Mischkelovitz, but also annoyed at her. Maybe she no longer tripped over her words as severely as she had at the beginning of this journey, but she still cried at the drop of a pin and that was not helpful. "We're not blaming you," he offered, even though inwardly he was a little bit. Maybe even a lot. It was hard not to.

Saru clasped his hands and twisted to the side so he could make out Mischkelovitz's form under the desk. "I do not think you have made this worse at all, Emellia. If anything, I believe now we know that we will make it home, or at least that we will be able to send some message back to our universe indicating we are well."

Someone else might have found this a comfort. Not Mischkelovitz.

"But I don't want to go home!" she wailed. "I want to be an officer on the Buran! A bridge officer!"

Lorca's mouth fell open, but he closed it again quickly. It made a sort of sense. Mischkelovitz had nothing to look forward to back at Starfleet. Outside Discovery, she remained a pariah, everyone she cared about was here, and she had apparently realized the version of her that lived in this universe was not broken the way she was and had attained a certain degree of success. That Emellia Petrellovitz now lay in Imperial jail for treason did not seem to dampen Mischkelovitz's envy of her.

Only Lalana was undisturbed by Mischkelovitz's outburst. She remained resolutely focused on the matter at hand as she said, "You are all forgetting about the Triton. That had nothing to do with Emellia, but Major Allan was also there."

Lorca shook his head. "We don't know that was him."

"I have only ever seen one sort of star halo, and while perhaps every time traveler has the same one, I do believe it was Major Allan on the Triton, or else why would he have disappeared when I mentioned it?"

It was an excellent point. Assuming Discovery made it back, had Allan gone back in time to meddle with something in the past as a preventative measure? If so, he had clearly failed to realize the Gabriel Lorca from back then was not the one currently in command.

"Why didn't he know we were going to expose him?" asked Groves. "He should have known this was going to happen and been able to prevent it because he was from the future. Unless..." He turned to the main wall console in the lab. "We delete all the files pertaining to this incident and kill him. That way he can't warn himself and the timeline is preserved."

"Whoa!" went O'Malley, jumping to his feet and momentarily abandoning Mischkelovitz. "We're not killing anyone!"

"You really don't do half-measures, do you, Groves?" said Lorca. Groves made a dismissive sound and shrugged. The corner of Lorca's mouth twitched into a smile. "I mean, surely there was another way to out Allan short of threatening to commit suicide."

That got another reaction from O'Malley. "What!" He looked at Groves with an expression of hopeless abandonment. Then he pressed his hands to his face and groaned in exasperation. "I can't believe any of this is happening."

There was nothing really O'Malley and Larsson could add at this point, particularly given how tired O'Malley was. "Larsson, colonel, you can go," Lorca offered. Larsson was happy enough to leave, but O'Malley hesitated, glancing down at Mischkelovitz. Lorca looked at him emphatically: "Go." There was something in the look that said not to worry about Mischkelovitz.

With the room thinned significantly, Saru spoke again. "Captain, another point. If in fact we do return to our original universe, I think it is entirely likely Allan is still onboard, so that he may come with us when we do."

"Mm," agreed Lorca. "Organize a search of the ship top to bottom, but keep a lid on the reason. Lalana, see if you can spot any more of those shadows on the security feeds. Groves, you and Mischkelovitz help Saru work out the where, what, and why and figure out if Allan did anything else to my ship. Make sure he can't do anything else, either. Set up extra security around the engineering lab and maybe see about rigging some sort of alarm if one of those shadows turns up again so we'll be able to respond quicker."

"Yes, captain," said Saru.

"Groves, you can probably think of a few likely hiding places, so assist Saru with the security sweep to start."

Groves squinted. He did have an instinct for nooks and crannies, but it made no sense for Lorca to know that. He relaxed slightly when he realized Lorca was probably just trying to get Mischkelovitz alone and rolled his eyes at the thought. He'd picked up on the pattern of Lorca and Mischkelovitz's interactions in recent weeks. "You know, it's not that Saru here isn't great, but I want to point out, Allan's exposure could be because we never make it back and that's why he didn't know about it."

Once upon a time, Saru would have been cowed by someone like John Groves. Not any more. "I still do not believe Major Allan would have remained aboard for the jump if he knew it would likely lead to his death, or that he would be mysteriously lost with the ship and never recovered."

Groves shrugged. From where he was standing, one of them was a bona fide genius, and the other was Saru.

"Whatever your thoughts, Groves, Saru's the one in charge. Got it?"

"Meh," said Groves.

"What of the mission, captain?" asked Saru.

It had been postponed long enough for this mess. "It's still a go. Tell Burnham I'm on my way. The sooner we get a move on, the sooner this'll all be over. Now you've got your orders. Go."

Groves said "aye, captain" to that, yet again managing to make compliance sound insulting. Lorca heard Groves continue to argue the point about what Allan's exposure meant as the doors closed after him and Saru. That left only Lalana on top of one table and Mischkelovitz under another.

"Do you know," said Lalana tapping her fingers together in something that was almost like spinning, "I was right."

Lorca blinked at her, which was as good as a fully-voiced question as to what she had been right about.

"Null time. That was Major Allan. I am certain now that he did not mean to kill us and in fact knew the event would cause us no harm. Perhaps he only meant to further our understanding of our spore drive and the other projects."

"Then he picked a damn strange way to go about it. With all that power rationing, we didn't make much progress on anything."

"Nn, that is true. But if not that, then I wonder what his intentions were."

"You and me both," said Lorca. He hated that there were mysteries he would never know the answers to. That left only one lingering matter to attend to. "Mischka?"

She shivered at the sound of her shared name. There were still fresh tears on her face, but less now, and her cheeks were dry with tracks of salt. "Can I go now?" she half-whined, half-whimpered, but in such a small voice it was not entirely annoying.

Lorca sighed faintly. Then he got up from his chair and sat down on the floor next to her. Lalana watched from the table.

"You know, you remind me of someone. She used to hide, too. She lost her parents, y'see. The woman who took her in was a lot of things and none of them nice. All that little girl wanted was for someone to read her a bedtime story. The way her parents used to." Lorca smiled sadly at the memory. It felt like a lifetime ago because it was. After a long moment of silence, he said, "Do you know who she grew up to be? The bravest, smartest, most capable woman I ever met. Type of person who looked at you and made you think you could do the impossible."

Just to describe her again made Lorca smile. A lone tear rolled down along Mischkelovitz's nose. Lorca reached over and brushed the tear away with his thumb. "I'll tell you the same thing I told her. You're stronger than you know." He let the words hang in the air a moment and was gratified to see new tears form in Mischkelovitz's eyes in response to the sentiment. "No matter what happens from here on out, you have done the impossible, Mischka. So don't ever wish you were someone else. From where I'm sittin', this version of you is the best one, tears and all."

On the table, Lalana observed this and spun her hands. He was not her Gabriel, and perhaps most people would not be able to forgive the way he had manipulated Mischkelovitz into doing what he needed her to or the fact that the main reason he liked her tears so much was that they had driven Culber and Stamets to allow one last jump, but to Lalana, there was nothing to forgive. Blame was not a lului concept. His manipulations were merely part of the thousand million tiny interactions that had brought them all to this point in time and this point in time was something she was enjoying.

Mischkelovitz acknowledged Lorca's sentiments with a nod. He gave her arm a supportive squeeze and stood up. He had more important matters to attend to, but there was no reason he could not provide in absentia the same service he had so long ago to someone who reminded him of that precious memory. "Lalana. Why don't you tell Mischka a story?"

"What story should I tell?"

"Your favorite."

He left the lab, but not entirely. He stood in the access chamber between the inner and outer doors momentarily lost in memory. It was hard sometimes, knowing the person he loved most in the universe—in any universe—was gone and would not be coming back barring some great miracle. Time travel would certainly fit the bill, but trying to wrap his head around how you could hold the body of someone you loved in your arms and somehow also prevent that moment left Lorca as reluctant about the concept of time travel as O'Malley was.

Lorca was still certain Allan was a time traveler, he just did not know what that information meant, if anything, and there seemed to be no way for him to use it to his advantage. Absent more information, he had to stay the course he had already chosen. Besides, if Groves was right about the fact Allan should have been able to prevent exposure, it meant time travel was potentially more useless than it sounded.

Who would be proven right at the end of this, Saru or Groves? Had Allan come with them to this universe because he knew they would make it back out? Or did the fact he had not known he would be exposed indicate the opposite?

He sighed. Either way, this ship had given him so much. Miracle after miracle. Here was hoping the miracles continued and that this whole charade went over better the second time around. He sincerely doubted he'd get a third chance.

Tilly and Burnham were both in the ready room waiting for him. Seeing them dressed in gold and black Terran uniforms, Lorca was awestruck. It was like a waking dream. "Impressive," he told them. He forced himself to focus on Tilly so as not to betray too much.

Looking at Tilly, she seemed to be standing straighter, stronger now. "Well, let's not keep these assholes waiting," she said confidently. Some note of surprise must have showed on his face, because she immediately worried, "Too much?"

"No," he assured her, "not here. Here, it's just right."

He sent Tilly out to the bridge to hail the ISS Shenzhou. That left him with Burnham. Almost impossible Burnham. A miracle made flesh. "Do or die time," he told her. "There's no going back. Tie me up?" He offered Burnham his wrists.

Burnham pressed the restraints into place. "There is never any going back," she said, "as the Vulcan Science Directorate has determined that time travel is impossible."

Lorca snorted. If only she knew what had just happened down in Lab 26. "Remind me again, what did they say about alternate realities?"

Burnham seemed perturbed by that. Whatever answer she might have given was cut off by the communications feed from the bridge as the transmission between Discovery and the Shenzhou went live.

The captain of the Shenzhou was a young, raven-haired man named Connor. As Burnham stared at his image on the viewscreen, her eyes widened.

"You know him?" Lorca asked.

"He was my ops officer on the Shenzhou." Someone she had lost, then. They had both lost so many people. "I watched him die at the Battle of the Binary Stars. I knew we'd encounter familiar faces. But is this what it's gonna be like here?"

There was pain on her face, regret. Lorca watched her and wished for a moment he could have offered a bedtime story, but they had no such connection. That was something he had shared with another person, not her. A person who just happened to have Burnham's face. Seeing the sadness on that face made his heart ache. He swallowed.

He heard Tilly say she had found a disabled shuttle containing something most interesting.

"I believe that's our cue," he said, glad to have something to focus on that was not Burnham's restrained anguish. They moved to the door and stood side by side, ready to step onto the bridge for the reveal. Lorca had a sudden thought. Groves was not the only one capable of extremes to sell a point. "And probably best we look the part." He slammed his head into the nearest wall panel, twice, leaving a splatter of blood as the skin of his nose and along his eye socket split.

He turned to Burnham. She hid her shock well and when he looked at her, it felt like he could do the impossible again.

"Showtime," he said. They emerged onto the bridge.

The exchange of words that followed between Burnham and Connor was almost too much to bear. As Burnham declared she had faked her own death and demanded the return of her ship, Lorca almost heard his Michael, but the voice was still too calm, too sedate, too controlled. He found the pale imitation frustrated him. He wanted her to be his Burnham so badly and she wasn't, even and especially as she forced him to his knees in a display of submission.

His face spoke the discomfort he felt plainly. He had always stood side by side with her. It had never been like this. This Burnham was making a decent show of dominance, which was good, but it was a show. On some fundamental level she did not understand who she was in this universe and she never would. She was but an echo of the person he had known.

Then Lorca heard Connor speak words he did not like at all.

"We have a rebel group pinned down in this system. It would be better if you come to us."

Thankfully, Lorca was staring at the floor, so no one caught the flicker of concern on his face. He knew from the mission sitrep what system the Shenzhou was in, which meant he knew exactly who those rebels were.

This was going to complicate things entirely.

Part 77

#Star Trek Discovery #Star Trek #Discovery #Despite Yourself #Captain Lorca #Gabriel Lorca #Michael Burnham #Commander Saru

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impracticaldemon · 8 years ago

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GRAYLU SIBLING EXCHANGE 2017

For: @clerfait

From: Impracticaldemon CC: @graylu-angstweek

Chapter 2 will be ready tomorrow! Sorry for the delay:

(1) My computer drank my tea; (2) I am apparently incapable of writing reasonable length one-shots.

I hope you enjoy this!

Art commissioned from the talented @miss-zei

New Year's Resolution

Language: English, Rating: Rated: T+

Published: 01-07-17, Updated: 01-07-17

Chapters: 1, Words: 3,939

Chapter 1: A Kiss Goodbye

Author's Note:

To all my readers: thank you so much for being here. If you have a moment, please post a few words when you're done to let me know what you think! All likes and reblogs much appreciated! Tumblr version is missing a few of the formatting and up-to-date edits of FF.net.

~Impracticaldemon

\(^u^)/

Once upon a time, there had been four of them—Natsu, Erza, Gray and Lucy. And Natsu's Exceed, Happy, who got annoyed at being overlooked. They had all been young, and rather prone to mistakes of different kinds. Even Erza, who always seemed mature, focused and practical, was only a year older than Natsu and Gray, and Lucy now knew that the warrior could be as prone to emotional upheaval as anyone, under the right circumstances.

They had all become close friends, with bonds that went beyond what mere words could express. Amazingly, even though Natsu and Gray had sort of grown up together, and Erza had joined the two of them when she was still a child, all three of them had treated Lucy as special. Lucy had been very happy at Fairy Tail, until last Christmas.

Christmas had been a disaster. Well, not a disaster, but not good either. Okay, not exactly bad just… disappointing. Except that for some reason, the disappointment had been crushing.

Last year at around Christmas, Juvia had shocked everyone by getting engaged to Lyon Vastia of Lamia Scale. Lucy had been just as surprised as everyone else. More importantly, she had seen Gray's face when Juvia had made her announcement—he'd looked stunned, as if he'd suddenly realized something very important and it had knocked all the wind out of him. She'd been sitting beside Erza at the time, across from the guys, and her eyes had gone immediately to her dark-haired team-mate. Natsu had summed things up well with his usual combination of genuine kindness tempered by genuine insensitivity:

"That kinda sucks for you, Ice Princess—we all thought that Juvia wanted to marry you! You okay? … Still, I guess she got tired of waiting, huh?"

"Shut up, Natsu. You are the last person in the world to comment about keeping a girl waiting."

Ignoring the stares of his three friends, and the covert and not-so-covert interest of half the guild, Gray had gotten up and walked out. The funny thing was that he hadn't looked angry, or jealous, or even upset, precisely. Lucy remembered thinking that he looked almost frightened, as if he had suddenly become aware of some terrible danger.

After the doors had closed behind Gray, Natsu had turned to Lucy and Erza.

"I guess he really is upset, huh?"

Erza had nodded slowly. Then she had smiled at Lucy:

"We should go congratulate Juvia; she needs to know that we're her friends no matter what, right?"

"Right!" Lucy had dragged her eyes off the door and hopped up, trying to seem more like herself.

"Right!" Natsu had given both women his brilliant, unmatchable grin. "She's been an important member of our team and Fairy Tail, so yeah—of course!"

The three of them had clustered around Juvia, who had brightened up at their approach. Mirajane had been admiring the glittering, new bracelet on Juvia's left wrist, trying to make up for the way that everyone else had been staring, but obviously the water elementalist was most worried about those who were closest to her—and closest to Gray. Fortunately, Natsu could always be counted on for enthusiasm, Erza was far kinder-hearted than she appeared, and Lucy… Lucy had been genuinely happy. For some reason, she had felt as though a shadow had lifted from her own heart. It had been troubling.

Of course there had been an impromptu party, and of course Natsu had complained about Gray not being there to brawl with (not that he had put it that way), and of course Erza had dragged Natsu off by the ear to "remind" him that it wasn't very nice to mention the man who had been Juvia's violent crush for the past two years. Lucy had found herself drifting from person to person, drinking some kind of blue-coloured drink and smiling.

After an hour—because she had made herself wait that long—she had told Erza that she was going to check on Gray. Erza had given her a very level look and insisted on walking her to the door.

"You just want to make sure he's okay?"

"Well… yeah, of course." It had been a lie. She just hadn't quite realized it.

"Give him my regards," Erza had said, watching Lucy shrug into her jacket and pull on bright blue gloves.

"Um, sure."

"Be patient."

Erza's eyes had seemed to be searching hers, and Lucy had made a show of adjusting her scarf in order to look away.

"… Patient?"

"Good night, Lucy. See you tomorrow."

For some reason, Erza had given Lucy a quick hug goodnight before turning in a swirl of bright red hair and going back inside. Puzzled, Lucy had blinked at the door for a moment, before shaking her head and walking off. In retrospect, Erza had understood things better than she had.

Gray wasn't at home and he wasn't out drinking at any of the nearby bars. Despite growing anxiety, Lucy had reluctantly given up and walked home, shivering with cold and unsettled about her strange reaction to Juvia's announcement. After an hour walking around in the cold and dark, she had finally identified her main feelings as relief and happiness. The problem was that it hadn't been happiness for Juvia and Lyon. It had just been… happiness. That had made no sense, at the time. Although she'd never been sure exactly how Gray felt about Juvia, he had finally seemed to be returning the water mage's very persistent, but genuine interest. Moreover, he had always looked out for Juvia in his own way, maybe because he had been the reason that she'd overcome enough of her unhappy past to be able to make the decision to join Fairy Tail. Juvia truly loved having friends.

"Mind if I come in?"

Gray had stepped out of the shadows as she had reached her own doorstep, and she had been so immersed in thought that she had gasped and jumped at the polite question. Embarrassed, she had snapped out the first thing that had come to mind:

"Where the heck were you anyway? Everyone was worried about you!"

"I was waiting for you. I figured you'd be a while so I a walked around a bit first. Then I came here."

His voice had been strangely disinterested, as if he were just going through the motions by answering her question. That oddness had made Lucy quickly turn the key so that they could both go in. Once in her apartment, she'd pointed him at a place to sit at the table and made hot cocoa. She remembered having wondered whether Gray even drank the stuff, but it had seemed like the right thing to do. He'd said nothing at all until she'd put a mug in front of him and sat down with her own.

"So, um, are you doing okay? I mean, not that you have to talk about it or anything… but if you need a friend to talk to then I'm here."

Lucy had tried to sound casual, even though her mouth had been dry and her fingers had been a little unsteady as she'd sipped at her cocoa. Even then, she hadn't quite figured out what was going on.

"Yeah, thanks," Gray had answered, in the same slightly mechanical tones. "Good cocoa—I haven't had any in ages." He'd given her a rather awful smile.

"Oh, good… I mean that it's good—the cocoa, I mean…"

Lucy remembered that part perfectly; she'd babbled like an idiot. She'd caught herself staring at the Fairy Tail mark on Gray's upper right chest, and she was pretty sure that she had blushed like an idiot, too. He had been wearing a slightly dressy, navy blue collared shirt, but it had been hanging open over his favourite dark jeans so that most of his lean, muscled torso and well-defined abdomen had been on display. Nothing new, right? Nothing different to account for the weird tightness in Lucy's chest.

"Anyway, I wanted you to know: I'm going away for a while. I figured you could tell the others."

"Oh sure," Lucy had murmured automatically in response, before his words had impinged.

She didn't think she'd imagined the dark shadow that had seemed to cross his face at her casual answer, but whatever he'd said next had been lost as she'd all but dropped her mug onto the table as his words had sunk in:

"Wait—what?!" She'd reached out halfway across the table to him with one hand, while waving the other one in a rather wild gesture of denial. "You can't go! I mean… why would you go? Juvia probably won't even be around much, and we can, you know, go out on missions, right? I mean, with Natsu and Erza, of course."

Gray had sat perfectly still, his thin, dark brows drawn down into a slight vee, as though there was something he didn't quite understand or didn't know how to explain. Heedless, Lucy had rushed on:

"Or, if you feel like you need to get out of town for a bit, that's fine too, but you don't need to say it like it's going to be months and months or something, you know?"

"I think Juvia needs a chance to be happy. And… even Lyon I guess, though he acts like he's got an icicle stuck up his butt most of the time. Plus…" Gray had paused and swallowed before going on. "Plus, the pink-haired dork'll look after you, right?"

"Right, sure, no problem," Lucy had said quickly, trying to deal with the prickling cold that seemed to be closing around her heart. "So, I'll tell the others. When will you be back? Because, um, they'll want to know."

She'd tried to look perky, and not as though the answer to that question had suddenly meant far too much to her. She'd found out later that her acting job had been too successful. Gray had eyed her for a long, thoughtful moment, and then he'd set down his mug. He'd finished all the cocoa—funny the details she remembered. Or maybe not. She could picture pretty much everything about that night.

"Oh, I'm really not sure when I'll be back," Gray had told her, rising to his feet. "Could be a few months, maybe longer, hard to say. Besides, you get along great with Juvia, right? I'm sure she can, you know, persuade Lyon to join you on missions from time to time—he'll make sure that Flame Head's ego doesn't get too big for his puny mind to handle. "

It was as if all sensation had left her. Detached, moving numbly, she'd walked him to the apartment door, which was weird in itself when she'd considered it later—after all, the guys always behaved like her place was their own, so she'd given up treating them like guests ages before. She'd smiled and nodded and… sparkled… covering shock with forced cheerfulness.

They'd stood awkwardly for a few minutes—it was the one part of the whole episode that Lucy couldn't clearly recall—and then Gray had suddenly caught her face in his cool, slightly rough hands and bent down, whispering so softly that she'd barely made out what he'd said:

"I'm sorry, Luce, I'm so sorry… I tried…"

She'd felt warm breath on her cheek the moment before he'd kissed her, hard, on the lips, one hand sliding behind her head to tangle briefly in her hair. Caught wholly off guard, she'd frozen as though he'd summoned ice magic. Before her brain had sorted out her reaction and told her that she really, really didn't mind and why hadn't she realized sooner, Gray had released her face, closed his dark eyes for a just a second, and then run off down the stairs. The outside door had banged open, there had been a gust of cold air, and… then he'd been gone.

Lucy had gone through the first two months of Gray's absence with a strange kind of half-alive feeling. It hadn't made any sense. They'd been good friends, good partners, but that was all. She'd relied on him, felt safe with him, had known that he'd always do whatever he could for her. Just like with Natsu and Erza—and those two had been far more demonstrative than Gray.

Despite his constant fights with Natsu, Gray had always been the more serious of the two. He'd accepted Lucy from the start, but without Natsu's unabashed enthusiasm or Erza's vibrant warmth. Rather, it had been a steady kind of acceptance, the kind that never made Lucy feel like an idiot, even when her magical skills had proven to be far below those of her companions.

When the guild had fought Phantom Lord, and Gray had battled and—in some way—saved Juvia, Lucy had been as taken aback as anyone when the beautiful and powerful blue-haired woman had fallen head over heels in love with the ice mage. Not that Gray didn't attract women—he did—but with his friends and partners he wasn't romantic in any way, so Lucy had never seen Gray in the same way as those other women, or Juvia. Juvia herself was tremendously romantic, of course. Once they'd become friends, Lucy had heard of her tragic childhood and the unhappy path she had followed until meeting Fairy Tail—meaning Gray—in battle.

Despite their friendship, the water elementalist had always maintained that Lucy was a "love rival" for Gray's affections. Lucy had always scoffed at this, but it had never made a difference to Juvia. As February's dreary skies lightened into March's promise of spring, Juvia had taken the unusual step of coming to Lucy's apartment one afternoon to ask after Gray. She had been as perfectly turned out as always, but it was such an everyday thing with Juvia that Lucy had stopped feeling self-conscious around her a long time ago. Mostly.

"Have you heard from Gray-sama, Lucy-san?"

Lucy had shaken her head, and then asked the obvious question:

"And you, Juvia—do you have any news?"

"Juvia does not have any news. But Gray-sama did write to Juvia after he lieft, to congratulate Juvia because he had not done so at Christmas. That was all."

"Oh."

"You will have to be patient, Lucy-san." The blue-haired woman had stared at her quite intently. "To be honest… Juvia came here to ask how Lucy-san was doing. Because Lucy-san is Juvia's friend and she is sad."

"Oh, I'm fine," Lucy had said. The words had sounded unconvincing, even to her. "I mean, sure, I'm sorry that Gray took off like that, but Natsu and Erza and I can take jobs and pay the bills—well, not that they aren't awfully destructive though…"

Juvia had waved an elegant, perfectly tapered hand dismissively.

"No. You are not fine."

Both women had looked at each other for a moment, caught by surprise by Juvia's use of a pronoun, rather than a proper name. Juvia had blushed. Lucy, in an effort to change the subject, had asked about wedding plans. She was going to be a bridesmaid, and was already in love with her dress, even though it wasn't actually finished yet.

Juvia had answered Lucy's questions on the wedding, but had returned to her original point before leaving, much to Lucy's discomfort.

"Lucy-san, are you sad because Gray-sama isn't here?"

"Yes." Lucy had blurted out the answer, and it had hung there in the air between them.

"Then will you let Juvia tell you about Gray-sama, just a little? Because, Lucy-san is Juvia's friend?"

"Okay."

Lucy had felt her chest and stomach tighten, wondering what Gray's most ardent-previously most ardent—fan had to say about him.

"Gray-sama loves his friends. That is the most important thing in Fairy Tail, is that not true? To love one's friends? To be like a family?"

Juvia's tone had almost been pleading. Hesitantly, Lucy had nodded. It had been a fair description of the foundation on which Fairy Tail's true strength had been built.

"Then, you see, Lucy-san, that Gray-sama does not want to hurt his friends. He does not want to hurt Natsu-san, who is his best friend. But Natsu-san brought Lucy-san to the guild and Gray-sama sees that the two of them are very close. Also, Lucy-san seems to like Natsu-san a lot, and she keeps insisting that Juvia is not a love rival."

"But I wasn't in love with anyone!" Lucy had protested, hands clenched tightly on top of her legs to prevent her from jumping up and pacing, or maybe kicking something. "Everthing was fine the way it was!"

Juvia smiled a little sadly at Lucy. "But it was not fine for everyone, Juvia thinks. So Gray-sama tries to be kind to Juvia, and he tries to be just friends with Lucy-san, because he doesn't want Natsu-san or Lucy-san to be upset. Juvia has spent a long time watching Gray-sama. Juvia thinks that Juvia was not wrong: Gray –sama was in love with Lucy-san."

As Lucy buried her face behind her teacup, Juvia fell silent. Neither of the women had said much during the rest of Juvia's short visit. Lucy had wanted to deny Juvia's words, but how could she? Eventually, Lucy had found herself escorting another friend to the door. At the last minute, she had detained Juvia with a touch.

"Why didn't he tell me before he left?" Lucy hated to be so vulnerable, but she didn't understand what had happened and it seemed like Juvia did. "I mean, I would have understood if he'd been disappointed about you and Lyon…"

Once again, Juvia had looked sad, and then she had touched her bracelet from Lyon and smiled gently.

"Juvia thinks that Gray-sama had finally decided to love Juvia, because Lucy-san was not for him and everyone wanted him to love Juvia." The gentle smile had brightened into something charming and a little wicked. Having somebody to love her back had given Juvia a little more self-confidence lately, which was a good thing. "And then, just as Gray decided that he would make Juvia happy, Juvia says that she will marry Lyon-sama, and Gray-sama knows that he should be sad and angry, but he isn't. He realizes that he is still in love with Lucy-san, and she still has no idea, and Gray-sama is not as brave as Juvia."

"Not as… brave?"

Juvia had shaken her head briskly.

"No. Because if Gray-sama had not been too afraid of losing his friendships and being a fool—and he hates to be a fool—then Gray-sama would have told Lucy-san the truth a long time ago." Juvia had paused, and then added smugly: "I did not mind being a fool, and even though Lucy-san's friendship means a lot to me, and the friendships of everyone at Fairy Tail, of course, I would always be honest with the person I love."

"And are you sure you love Lyon?" Lucy had asked, feeling unaccountably defensive.

"Yes! Juvia does love Lyon-sama." Juvia had given Lucy a roguish look, although it was shy at the same time. "Lyon-sama has a lot in common with Juvia. Juvia enjoys looking nice for Lyon-sama. Lyon-sama makes Juvia feel loved. He even kissed Juvia!"

Lucy saw her friend's blush and laughed. "I hope he has if he's going to marry you! You deserve to be happy, Juvia."

"Thank you," replied Juvia, with a dainty curtsy. "I hope you get a chance to be kissed soon too, Lucy-san."

In April there had been cherry blossoms on the trees, and the magical rainbow tree had looked particularly beautiful. Lucy had gone with Natsu to the town festival, remembering when Natsu had brought the rainbow tree to her because she'd been too sick to go to the tree. She truly loved her excitable, impetuous partner—and she thought that he loved her—but she wasn't in love with him, and he didn't seem to demand that sort of affection. Not that she had been very perceptive about such things with Gray or anyone else, apparently.

She had watched the sparkling, brilliantly-coloured tree with Natsu and Erza, but when she'd looked at her friends it had occurred to her that of the four of them, only Natsu's happiness seemed entirely clear and untainted. Gray was gone—supposedly due to blighted love, but love of who?—and Erza had been very quiet. Lucy had thought she was missing Jellal, the strange, blue-haired man who had done terrible things, but couldn't remember most of them.

Lucy herself had been remembering a short, passionate, unhappy kiss. Looking around at the lovers in the crowd—and there had been a few from the guild, such as hulking Gajeel and petite Levy, fingers laced tightly together—Lucy had finally, fully admitted that she wanted to be kissed again. When would Gray come back? What would she do when he did?

On the way home, with Erza striding ahead and Happy flitting high above, Natsu had surprised her by giving her a quick one-armed hug around the shoulders. His pink hair had looked like cotton candy in the gentle spring moonlight.

"Aw, I miss Gray too, Lucy. Try not to worry: he'll be back. He's probably just practicing 'cause he doesn't want to get pounded the next time he tries taking me on. You know he won't be able to stay away from Fairy Tail forever."

Lucy had hugged him back, a little cheered, as well as reminded that Natsu noticed quite a lot when he wasn't caught up in fighting somebody or something. He was a good man.

That night she had dreamed of snow and hot chocolate and sadness. When she had finally gotten up and made herself tea, in defiance of the dream, she had thought of Erza's counsel, echoed by Juvia: be patient.

END OF CHAPTER 1

A/Note: See you next Chapter! Thank you for reading. :)

#fairy tail #fanfiction #gray fullbuster #graylu sibling exchange 2017 #lucy heartfilia #juvia lockser #natsu dragneel #impracticaldemon #clerfait

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sun-moonflowers · 8 years ago

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Decluttering thoughts

I’m not too sure where exactly to begin writing this because my thoughts have been extremely crowded recently. I attempted to clear this up, perhaps unsuccessfully, in terms of finding some resolution or peace with myself. Writing has not proved itself to appease, however unrelentingly I have scribbled in the past few days about worries both real and petty. To first account for my decision of putting this up here instead of my proxy for the few reasons being this is primarily text and the latter does not serve this purpose in its primary function; it also takes the formality out of the context that i wish to preserve; neither do I have to consider the relevance or ill-relevance of an image to match this murk for whichever image I choose will either be unequable in what I am trying to convey. In part, I owe this slightly pretentious formality to what I have been reading — it is fascinating to consider how what we read affects our manner of speech so readily, how we are such malleable creatures — most of which are academic, some incoherent and others dense but illuminating, all of which in their certain positives have momentarily assumed my speech as so. I have marked my prose with sub-headers, if you wish to skip the parts that less interest you, do feel free.

An indefinite break from social media

I have a couple of thoughts lately, which I refer to as contemplations because they involve an action or call to action which I am pondering over its necessity and consequence. Among it includes the consideration to do away with my proxy platform. This in part is due to a larger desire to distance myself from social media and go offline for an extended period — by this I mean an indefinite hiatus. Lately it has occurred to me that this pressure of visibility is unwarranted and unnecessary, even distracting to making good art or good work. It is something I could do without because neither my life nor my income depends on it (though I have no income to speak of currently.) If I am finding nothing meaningful in whatever I post and all these actions are in fact mere gestures, self-aggrandising and therefore possessing the power to do otherwise, should it not be without a question to do without so as to do better? Another of which stems from the inadequacy of the platform in presenting thought and coherence as I would like it. Owing to my obsessive natures in this respect, it is frustrating to deal with it all the time. So for those of you who read this will know then, that if my silence has become obvious, it is not without reason. I would then request for you to write to me instead, if you so wish to know how I am. Letters are most welcome, but the instantaneous messages over mobile devices will not be shunned either. This distance is aimed at breaking the attachments formed between my sense of self, time and occupation with the entrapment of social media and its dangers, folly, excessive — not friendships.

Academic woes: a headache basically

A rut that I have been within in the past couple of days has been with regards to my next essay. This predicament can be attributed to a few things that form my incoherence and hence no sense of direction in which to take for this essay. To provide context, I am researching on Orientalism in the 19th century. My initial idea was to compare and contrast ballet repertoires choreographed during the late 19th century to early 20th century, and their representation of the Orient/ Exotic/ Other through the female body. Ideally, this would create many opportunities for discussion: fear projected in terms of imperialism, or perhaps classism thereby leading to ornamentalism rather than Said’s Orientalism; the male gaze and the female nude as prevailing practices and the Orient is a means of perpetuating that rather than representing anything; using Freud’s analysis on dreams and the erotic to explore if perhaps the sexualisation and sensualisation of the exotic is a deeper desire concealed by the Europeans than necessarily a means of subjugating the Other, for the Other is perhaps merely a means in which to distance such desires from themselves as they would hope to preserve as pristine, godly, restrained.

But, not everything goes as we intend it to be. There is a sore lack of research on Orientalism in ballet, and a greater cavity in the archival footages of ballet in the past. In part, photography was only gaining momentum in its infancy and the acclaimed Diaghilev also made sure that no recording of his choreography was permitted. That poses the question: how do you write about ballet if you have yet to see it live for yourself, even if through a screen? I can only read about it, and as with all secondary accounts, they might not be entirely factual; and as with all theatrics, there is a habit of exaggeration in play that I expect no less of an extravagance like ballet. So right now I am left with the ballet-russes of the 20th century, not 19th century — and only one was extensively publicised and studied over (that being Schehezerade, inspired by the Arabian Nights), and perhaps Salome, but that is a biblical tale, not exactly about the Eastern culture at all. I ever thought of doing a cross study of ballet, painting and perhaps poetry or literature, but none quite inspires as much as my initial imperative.

A part of me also wishes to make study the psychological/ social use of the East to represent sensuality and sexuality during that time. Perhaps as time continues to pass, I will not have the liberty to be choosy about this. Having written all these down, I surprisingly might find a way around this. I shall first delve into the possibility of the latter as my directive and see if there are possibilities for such. It feels like such a huge task because there is so little written about it, which might be an optimistic thing, in terms of originality, yet it also places such immense pressure on validating the arguments. It could go right with this, or very very wrong. I have rambled too much about my homework, which I would assume, not even make much sense to anyone other than myself. But all this is cathartic in a way. Now moving on —

The New Year and Turning 21

It is the doubling of the new year and turning a year older that always somehow leaves me more troubled and reclusive during this period than one would perhaps expect of in the festivity of the new year. This year has proven more weighing than the others, and if you may ask what turning 21 feels like, I think I have an answer compared to any one who thinks there’s not much change. It is only those still amid transitionary states do they feel most deeply what the ‘coming-of-age’ truly entails. Most days I am rattled by the worries of finances, and the ability to manage it properly and more than just adequately. I admit that I have ridiculous savings plans that require me to eat myself but I am confident that they are not impossible. This ridiculous savings plan is a method of future planning because this will be my funding after I graduate and anticipate the few months that I need to fight very crazily hard to stay here. It is almost sickening to think that if I save half of my allowance every month, I would have only saved a year of my tuition fees by the time I graduate. But it also reveals to me how hard I need to make my education worthwhile and my time here more worthwhile than anyone else. I also loathe the financially-conscious me who has to opt out of everything because it just isn’t within my priority nor means to do so. If you read this, I am not asking for sympathies or what not, maybe just the courtesy of not talking about it because it is already on my mind 24/7 and I just don’t want to talk about it further.

Money is a very real and disgusting problem, but we cannot do away with it, that would require an upheaval of entire economies and world that we have long set in stone for ourselves to relinquish. So as always this still stands: to beat the system is to excel in it, and gain the freedom in which it will allow you the options to stay away from it. I spent New Year’s Eve and countdown vacuuming the house and changing my sheets, making my house clean after two weeks of holiday. It’s the reality that a celebration is momentary and there are more important things to see to — the celebration can perhaps wait until you are in the mood for it. While everyone is planning some big party and joyous thing, I’m just thinking if I should catch that movie cause it would cause money; if I should go for tea as a treat to myself but that would also cost unnecessarily which I can instead use for classes or something else; staying at home alone would seem too sad and sorry; maybe I should take my film camera out for the afternoon and explore London instead. (But I am looking forward to dinner with Lynn that evening.)

Yesterday, I wrote a list of goals for the year: things I wish to accomplish in this year. It is encouraging and motivating to have that list up on my desk wall. Let’s hope I do stick to realising them. And perhaps I should even do away with using the word ‘hope’ excessively, because it only provides excuses and consolation for when I do not actually accomplish anything. To also reduce the dependency on these words: ‘just’, ‘maybe’, ‘hope’.

Unemployment; recruitment is a pain

Currently still unemployed. It is disheartening when you can’t even get a temporary job under your school because it’s by a first come first serve basis — and though you think you would be the first when you reply to the email immediately, you’re just that few letters short of time. How shameless can one also get? Or which desperation drives us into. I applied for the same job which rejected my application last October because I really really want to work there. There is no reply and I only think of the worst lately. Next week, I tell myself to grit my teeth and go to a few places to ask if they have any part-time vacancies. I am crossing my fingers I get some good news with that. If I have this job, then I wouldn’t have to worry so much about finances. I also tell myself it is only 4 months since I’ve moved here and I need to give London some time, so time I will take. But recruitment, you really are a pain.

My thoughts have presently escaped me and I shall pause here till they return, should they ever. School reopens tomorrow and many things await but taking a step at a time. Adulthood is terrifying and burdensome and whoever thought of this vicious cycle is a maniac. (We are worse, for buying into it and living it.)

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consulting-celiac-in-the-tardis · 6 years ago

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13 New Healthy Habits That Changed My Life in 2018

New blog post! Now that the New Year is almost here, New Years Resolutions are a common topic of conversation...and while I rarely make a strict resolution, I do love making small changes to my everyday routine that add up to a BIG impact. So I thought I’d join The Mighty’s #52SmallThings challenge and share 13 small healthy habits - in diet, exercise and just everyday life - that made my life a 1000% better this year.

Like always, I want to make it clear that I'm not a dietician, nutritionist or doctor. I'm just a girl with two chronic illnesses who likes sharing what lifestyle choices help me thrive, mentally and physically! So if you do want to make big changes in your life in 2019 (or even enact some of the bigger changes in diet, exercise, etc. that I mention in this post), I recommend talking to a medical professional first. But if you're looking for ideas of healthy New Years resolutions or small tweaks you can make in 2019 that could improve your whole life, keep reading to find inspiration in what habits worked for me!

1. Replacing half of my TV time with audiobooks.

My college roommates could attest to the fact that I used to be addicted to Netflix, Hulu and other streaming sites. I’m a natural multitasker, so I’d always have some show playing in the background as I blogged, did chores, cooked or surfed the web. And I still watch TV shows regularly (check out my list of awesome food-related documentaries on Netflix if you need new show recommendations!). However, I’d say I watch a quarter of what I used to...and that’s because I’ve started listening to audiobooks instead!

Not only does this let me read more books during the school year (when I rarely have time to physically “read” anything beyond my assigned books) but audiobooks have also been shown to improve critical listening, comprehension, vocabulary, pronunciation - whether you're a student or an adult reader. Plus, listening to audiobooks could also save you money in the long run if you stop paying for cable or pay for just one streaming service. I get all of my audiobooks from the library using OverDrive, so I’d highly recommend seeing if your library offers the same OverDrive resource.

2. Finding teas that I actually love to drink.

I actually have my sister to thank for starting this healthy habit since her Christmas gift to me last year was a big bundle of gluten free, decaffeinated tea. Before her gift, I always wanted to like tea but never drank it regularly. This past year, though, Bigelow's Lemon Ginger Herbal Tea + Probiotics and Orange & Spice Tea have become my favorite way to warm up on a very cold day in Minnesota. Plus, I’ve found that drinking a warm cup of tea is a great way to practice self-care on days when my stomach or digestion is acting up. So whether you’re trying to stop drinking coffee and want to get your caffeine from tea instead or just want the health benefits that can come from certain types of tea, drinking more tea is an easy New Years resolution or small, healthy habit to try.

PS - that glass straw is from Foods Alive, for whom I serve as an ambassador, and it is super awesome!

3. Being LESS strict with my diet.

I know that especially around the New Years, people are usually trying to eat healthier and cut out a lot of the treats they’ve been enjoying during the holidays. But I’ve been taking a different approach in 2018 - and it’s been working so well, I don’t plan on changing it in 2019: I’ve been eating a little bit of anything and everything (that’s gluten free). Like I’ve written about before, I’ve experimented with a LOT of different diets since my celiac disease diagnosis. I’ve tried paleo. I’ve tried eating super clean with little to no processed foods. And for a lot of 2017 and 2018, I ate vegan. But in the latter half of last year, I continued loosening up on my diet. I ate meat when I felt like it and more ice cream in one semester than I probably ate in all 2017. I experimented with different gluten free foods, like hummus and freezer meals. And you know what? I’m happier. I’m at a healthier weight (more on that below). And it's been pretty freakin' delicious to eat ground turkey with my dinner or ice cream with my night snack.

This isn’t to say that you should go crazy on whatever foods (if any) you’ve been limiting lately. And obviously there are some foods that DON'T do well with people (like gluten for people with celiac disease), and it IS an act of self-care to avoid those triggers. However, I did want to share my experience to show that eating “perfectly” or eating a certain diet isn’t always better than just eating what your body craves and going with the flow.

4. Establishing a regular weight-lifting routine.

One of the other biggest reasons I think I gained some curves and muscle in 2018? I started lifting weights on a regular basis...and progressively lifting heavier. I’ve flirted with the weight room since junior year of college, but I always did more cardio than weight lifting. And I still do a good amount of cardio (this gal loves a stair stepper workout!), but leg injuries forced me to dive deeper into the realm of weight lifting, and I’m really glad they did! I’m certainly no pro at lifting weights and still don’t lift very heavy compared to many people, but I love how strong I feel now and getting to challenge myself by slowly racking up the weight.

Nowadays, it seems a LOT more socially acceptable for women to lift weights and use the weight room at gyms. However, it definitely can feel intimidating to walk into a weight room full of huge dudes who all seem to know exactly what they’re doing. Just know that getting to see and feel yourself getting stronger is so worth that initial discomfort or the days it takes you to figure out weight lifting equipment and proper form. Gaining some extra curves along the way has just been a bonus!

5. Listening to podcasts when I'm working out or doing chores.

This year also marked the start of my love for podcasts. While I listened to them every so often before, now I go through a handful of episodes each week, and it’s definitely given me some new topics to bring up in conversations. Plus, depending on the podcast I listen to, I often feel less alone about certain struggles I’m going through (like the general chaos of life in your 20s) and learn new skills related to mindfulness, meditation, gratitude, etc.

Of course, it is important to give yourself a break and not be listening to something every single minute of your day. But if you want to replace some of your TV with informative or entertaining podcasts, or just want to learn some new facts in your spare time, some of my fave podcasts right now are:

Trader Joe’s (Inside) - all about Trader Joe’s, as told from various employees on the inside

How I Built This - each episode features an interview with a new entrepreneur about how they succeeded at building their company or brand

Freakonomics Radio - in-depth conversations with various experts on interesting topics ranging from the obesity crisis to the connection between religion and happiness

Oprah’s Supersoul Conversations - it’s Oprah and she’s interviewing a bunch of crazy cool people about deep takeaways they’ve gotten from life

That's So Maven - I only just discovered that The Healthy Maven (an awesome blog) has its own, equally awesome podcast all about health, wellness and everyday life.

6. Saying "yes" to social events I initially felt on the fence about going to.

To be completely honest...I’m a homebody. 9/10 Friday nights, I’m chilling in my apartment with Netflix and homemade granola. But in 2018, I tried to say “yes” to more invitations, even if they were out of my comfort zone. And as a result, I... ...stayed up until 2 AM dancing at a club in downtown Minneapolis. ...went to a concert held by one of my professors and discovered that tipsy people really like my fuzzy black scarf.

...almost froze seeing Christmas lights in Mankato but also managed to see some real-live reindeer! ...am visiting a special someone in San Diego for part of my Christmas break. (And if you notice that I'm a bit quiet on the blog/social media next week, this visit is why!) I wouldn’t say that everything I said “yes” to in 2018 was a complete success. But I’m going to start 2019 with a heck of a lot of good memories that I wouldn’t have made if I’d said “no” to everything that was a little out of my comfort zone.

7. Saying "no" to things I felt like I SHOULD do...but actually didn't want or need.

At the same time, though, healthy living for me involves saying “no” to a good amount of social or work invitations. The truth is, grad school is exhausting...especially when you’re also working several jobs and have two chronic illnesses. So a lot of the time, I can’t do all the things I want to. I still feel guilty sometimes for not being a “good enough” MFA student since I miss so many department-related events. And a big part of me wishes I could live off of 4 or 6 hours of sleep like other college students and dedicate those extra hours to blogging more or doing more freelance work or spending more time with friends.

But my body doesn’t work like that. And if you have your own health struggles or just have the tendency to say “yes” to things out of obligation instead of actual enjoyment...maybe the best New Years resolution is saying “no” more. Staying in on a Saturday night if that’s what your mind or body needs. Making friends with people who understand when you need some alone time. And, at the most basic level, saying “yes” to your own needs BEFORE saying “yes” to anything else. Personally, I know that’s one “goal” I’m always going to be working on, including in 2019!

8. Starting each morning with a solo dance party.

This year of grad school, I’m teaching an 8 AM Intro to English Composition class. And I’m not gonna lie. Sometimes it’s hard to get myself out of bed, across campus and excited to teach that early in the morning. This last semester, though, I’ve started playing even just a few minutes of my favorite songs when I wake up, and I think it’s definitely helped make me a little more motivated to head off to class. Research even reports that listening to music that you like triggers the release of dopamine, or the “happy hormone” in the brain. So the next time you have an early morning you’re not looking forward to or just need a pick-me-up anytime in the day, groovin’ to some of your favorite tunes might help!

9. Foam rolling after every single workout.

I don’t really have much to say about this except do it. 2018 was the first year that I actually committed to foam rolling any time I do a leg workout, and it has seriously done wonders for my soreness and healing from my leg injuries.

10. Eating more plant-based protein...but not restricting myself from meat.

I already mentioned this a little bit earlier on in the post, but it was a big enough change to deserve its own bullet. If you follow me on Instagram, you probably noticed that over the past year and a half, I’ve been eating more hummus and beans than my old favorite of sweet potato salmon sliders. During that time, I love that I was able to slowly increase my stomach’s tolerance for legumes (by eating a verrrrry small amount of beans and then working up) and I’ve really enjoyed experimenting with new plant-based foods like pulled BBQ jackfruit or homemade hummus.

But over the last few months, I’ve added meat back into my diet. And you know what? I’ve found that’s what works best for me. Now I'm not saying that a vegan diet can't work for people or isn't a good idea. If you don't want to eat meat or eggs or dairy and that works for you, great! And I can honestly say that a vegan and gluten free diet can still be super delicious. But if 2018 taught me anything, it's that every body thrives on a different diet. And I just hope that anyone who wants to experiment with a new diet in 2019 or make a healthy eating New Year's resolution remembers that!

11. Sharing regular phone calls with old friends.

I was warned about how hard it would be to stay in contact with college friends after graduation, and that’s definitely true. Last year, though, I tried to make it more of a priority to catch up with old friends and it felt super rewarding. As anyone who’s ever been (or is presently) in their 20s knows, it’s a really weird time. People are doing everything from still living at home with their parents to getting married and having kids to starting their career to being in school like me. And during weeks when I feel really unsure about what the heck I was doing with life, it helps a lot to have someone to talk to who knows me but is now doing something totally different than I am.

12. Turning off push notifications for my social media apps.

I’m not gonna lie. I spend a loooot of time on my phone. But one step that did help in 2018 was turning off push notifications for social media apps. A 2015 study actually tested the effects of saying "no" to push notifications and found that people were more productive and less distracted in the first 24 hours. And when researchers checked in with study participants one year later, two-thirds had chosen to keep their notifications off, increasing their long-term chances of being less stress and more focused. Now, I wouldn’t say that muting notifications has turned me into a super productive superwoman. But I think it does help keep me from getting distracted by every Facebook comment or Instagram direct message when they happen - and, at the very least, no harm was done by turning my push notifications off!

13. Celebrating the moments when I walk by the mirror and think, "Dang girl, you're lookin' good!"

Body image with celiac disease is always a complicated topic, and I definitely haven't discovered the secret to self-love with chronic illness. BUT in 2018, I did get a lot better at celebrating the moments when I do feel at home in my body, no matter what surprises it throws my way. And here's the biggest thing about self-love and self-care I learned in 2018: it doesn't have to be complicated! It doesn't require fancy face masks or a morning ritual of staring at the mirror and saying everything you love about your body. It can be as simple as taking a selfie or taking an extra moment to smile in the mirror on days you're feeling really good.

If you want to step up your whole self-love and self-care routine, check out my posts (here and here) on some simple and quick self-love activities you can try. But don't forget to get the most out of the little moments, too, when you feel awesome and can celebrate that vibe!

My Biggest Goal for 2019

Even as I'm finishing up this post on Christmas Day, it blows my mind that 2018 is almost over. It was not a perfect year (is there even such a thing?!?) but it was a year full of growth and laughter and adventures and challenges and successes...and new healthy habits that I'm definitely going to keep up in the New Year! Like I said earlier in this post, I rarely make New Year's resolutions, and that isn't changing in 2019. But I do like picking a word to focus on...and in 2019, my word is going to be "open." Open to new opportunities, even if they scare me or aren't what I was planning or expecting. Open to changes in my routine, even if routine is what I'm most comfortable with.

And, of course, open to discovering more habits that will help me live a happy, healthy life! What's one healthy habit that's changed your life? Tell me in the comments! via Blogger http://bit.ly/2ERawqq

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