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themonotonysyndrome · 3 years ago

Text

REDACTED verse - A dinner and a show

Prompt: any | any | competition

Word Count: 2,460

Author/Team: LadyMonotone

Fandom/Original: Redacted ASMR (Vincent Solaire/Lovely)

Rating: T

Triggers: Explicit implications

Summary: It's a tradition within the Solaire Clan that the King would visit his progenies from time to time. Tonight, Will is coming over to Vincent & Lovely's apartment for dinner. What's not a tradition is the karaoke competition that comes afterwards.

ConCrit: Y

I don’t know what happened. This oneshot just went out of my control but I had so much fun writing it today! I hope you guys enjoyed it!

Also, I just realised that all the characters in my oneshots have been eating lately. Oh my god, I got so hungry when I was writing them that I subconsciously includes food in some of the scenes 😭 Food is my love language so I guess it’s cute that the bois and their lovers would sit down and eat together.

That being said, I hope you guys will crave Korean food as much as I am in this oneshot! 😅

“Vincent? I need your help. Can you tell me what’s Will's favourite colours?”

“Lovely - ”

“Because I have some formal outfits in our closet, but they don’t mean shit if Will hate the colours.”

“Lovely, hang on - ”

“Is he allergic to perfumes? Colognes? I have some soft-scented bottles that should be Vampire-friendly! I think? Most of them are floral though… oh! Does he have a favourite flower? Do you think I should buy some before he comes over?”

“What? No, Lovely, I think you’re working yourself up - ”

“I know you bought some blood bags for dinner but do you think we should cook some food too? Does Will like to eat? Shit, I knew I should have bought some groceries yesterday after class!”

“You’re not listening to me at all, Lovely…”

“We have to clean up the whole place too. I don’t know how our furniture gets so dusty so quickly! I just wiped them down a few days ago!”

“...”

“Do you think I should do my hair too? It’s a bit of a mess lately; I could use a trim. Does Will - ”

Lovely's eyes widen as a deep kiss suddenly silences them. Their heart pounds when Vincent brings them close to his chest, trapping his lover in his arms. Lovely's eyes flutter close when he pulls away to press butterfly kisses on their neck. They couldn’t help it; they moan and tilt their head back when they feel fangs delicately drag down their tender skin.

“Vincent!” Lovely hisses, not sure for what, though, when Vincent's fangs pinprick where their pulse is.

“Oh? Are you finally with me again, Lovely?” Vincent breathes, loving how their heart begins to beat faster and faster in anticipation. His chest reverberates when he chuckles deeply. “There we go… I have your attention again, little one.”

They grumbled at the unfairness of it all. Just as Lovely knew all of Vincent’s weaknesses and tickle spots, he knew how weak their knees behaved when he pressed his fangs to any parts of his partner's body. Especially down south.

“I’m serious here, Vince.” Lovely whines. “There are so many things we have to do before Will comes over for dinner tonight. I want to make sure everything’s perfect.”

Vincent gives Lovely a deadpan look. They would’ve coo at how adorable he looks if it weren’t for his Vampiric speed and his habit of chucking them onto the bed whenever Lovely is being too stubborn to listen to reason. “Lovely? A question: are you dating my Sire or me?”

Lovely blinks; they didn’t expect that. “Uh, you, duh.”

“Then trust me, as your boyfriend,” Lovely has no idea why Vincent emphasised that last word, but they knew better than to interrupt him when he gets like this. “That everything’s going to be fine. Besides, I told you that while this might look like the whole ‘meeting the parent’ shtick, the relationship between a Sire and their Progeny is way more than that.” He patiently reminds them.

“Well yeah, but he means a lot to you.” Lovely points out. Now, why did Vincent look so surprised at that? “So that means he’s important to me too. That’s why this dinner has to be perfect.”

For a moment, Vincent said nothing. He just stares at them in wonderment.

Lovely let out a surprised squeak when Vincent suddenly crushed them in a hug. “How did I get so damn lucky with you, Lovely?” He murmurs, face buried on top of their head. “Sometimes I think that you’re… too amazing to be real.”

So soft and sweet; that’s Vincent. Lovely lets him cuddle them like his personal teddy bear until he's satisfied.

“Now, I need you to do something for me, Lovely. Do you think you can do it?”

Lovely raise an eyebrow. “Depends on what it is, Vince. I haven’t eaten anything yet, so I can only give you at least four hours in bed - ”

“N-Not that!” Vincent hurries to interject, a brilliant red blush runs across his cheeks despite him being a Vampire. He coughs once to get them on track, playfully glaring at Lovely for trying to distract him. “Geez, Lovely. It’s still way too early for… that. But we're definitely going to revisit that. Anyway, I need you to calm down for a second, OK? Will is a pretty chill guy and an open-minded Sire. He knows how much I love you, so you have nothing to worry about.” He gently assures them, rubbing calming motions up and down Lovely's back.

Lovely could feel their anxiety melts away. Just enough for them to finally breathe again ever since Vincent dropped the bomb that William Solaire will be coming over for dinner tonight.

Apparently, everyone in the Clan knows that the King would visit his Progenies at least once a month to check up on them. Just like how a parent would drop by their children's home for a visit, in Lovely's opinion.

“Ok. You win, baby.” Lovely sighs, loving how his rubbing eases the tense muscles. They arch their back like a pleased, spoiled cat when Vincent messages that spot below their shoulders. “Ooooh, yes, that’s the spot!”

Once Lovely's bones feel like they could melt at any time, they throw Vincent a grateful smile.

“Now, there’s the smile I’ve been missing the whole day!” Vincent teases. “C’mon Lovely, let’s plan for dinner before we take our nap. How do you feel about seafood?”

“Oh, I can go for some seafood. It’s been a while.”

“Spicy steamed crabs with scallops, battered pan-fry oysters and some chilled bowl of rice top with raw salmon and sea bass with slices of your favourite veggies? All Korean-style."

“Hell yes. I think we have all the ingredients for that. Wait. Err, can Will handle spicy food?”

"Uh... I have no idea. Maybe we should hold back on that spicy steamed crabs with scallops just in case."

Ever since the two started living together, Vincent really took a shine when it came to cooking and baking. The idea of providing for Lovely makes him ridiculously happy, and besides, him whipping up healthy and delicious food for them results in much richer and sweeter blood flowing within his lover for him to feed on so… win-win!

As the two of them traverse to the kitchen to start preparing the ingredients for dinner, Lovely slowly gain the confidence that their dinner tonight with Vincent's Sire will turn out alright.

And before both of them knew it, the sun had set.

After a fresh shower, the entire apartment is now spotless (to Lovely's standard), and dinner is served on the table, the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it!" Lovely announce just as Vincent finish putting down the plates. They smoothen out the creases on their clothes, roll their shoulders before taking a deep, calming breath and answer the door. Like a soldier marching towards the battlefield.

Seeing his partner's dramatic reaction, Vincent just shakes his head.

As soon as Lovely opens the door, William Solaire greets them. "Good evening. I hope I'm not too early. The evening traffic has been quite a hassle lately. I figured that even if I'm a bit early, I could help you and Vincent in the kitchen." Will explains. In his arms is a bouquet of white pear blossoms, yellow gladioluses and red tulips. When Lovely stares at them curiously, Will smiles knowingly. "Vincent informed me that you don't drink, so I decided that flowers would be the appropriate gift as oppose to a bottle of champagne."

"They're so pretty." Lovely reply, breathless when they receive the bouquet. "Thank you so much, Will! I'll put them in a vase now. Oh, and please come in." They graciously step aside to let Vincent's Sire in.

While Lovely is busy rummaging for a vase in the storeroom, Will and Vincent make small talks over at the dining table. Vincent passes the ancient Vampire a tall glass of blood which Will accept with gratitude.

"Hey, Will. How's it going?"

"I'm fine, Vincent. Thank you for asking." Will reply after dabbing the bloodstain on the corner of his lips. "The Clan is the same as usual; Our Newborn members have finally settled in nicely, much to Sam's relief. I plan to visit them next week."

Vincent tops up Will's empty glass before replying. "That's great to hear." He's about to say something else before a loud bang against the wall in the storeroom stops him. "Uh, Lovely? Is everything OK in there?" He calls out.

"It's fine, it's fine!" Lovely shouts back. "I found the perfect vase for the flowers!"

Vincent groans in exasperation. When Will throws him a confused expression, Vincent is compelled to explain. "Look, Will, Lovely has been freaking out about tonight's dinner the whole day. They think that if it turns out anything but perfect, you're going to be disappointed in them. So just... just play along, alright?"

Will chuckles; his heart warms at the thought that Lovely holds him in such high regard. What an adorable human. "Is that so? Very well then, I will play the perfect guest towards such kind hosts."

And true to his words, when Lovely joins them at the table after putting the vase full of flowers on the coffee table in the living room, Will waste no time in kicking his charm to the max. In between their meal, Will makes sure to compliment Lovely's outfit (which earned him a shy yet pleased blush from Lovely and a jealous kick at his shin from Vincent). He then comments that the spicy steamed seafood dish is his favourite, and when desserts are introduced, Will gently helps Lovely open up by asking about their interests and hobbies.

Will is pleasantly surprised to find one of the many common grounds they share: their love for analysing music.

"I find RM to be one of the most brilliant lyricists in this generation." Will states once his bowl of red bean shaved ice is empty. "His songs are undoubtedly impactful for the youths of today. Not to mention that I'm quite fond of his wordplays."

"You're into K-pop!?" Lovely ask, utterly gobsmacked. Their eyes are wide in shock.

Vincent snorts. "Alexis is a BTS fan. Somehow, she managed to convert Will too."

When Lovely turn to face Will once more, their expression frozen in disbelieve, he adds, "We're planning to catch their concert once the situation permits it."

Will's pop culture admission finally broke the ice. Lovely laughs in delight before launching themselves into an animated conversation about modern music with Will.

However, it wasn't long before their topic suddenly went off the rail when Vincent claimed that he's a better shower singer than Lovely.

"Oh please, Vince, I thought you were dying in the bathroom," Lovely interjects with a roll of their eyes. Vincent splutters at his partner's cruel remark, but Lovely presses on without mercy, much to Will's amusement. He resolutely keeps his mouth shut despite his growing grin slowly making its way up to his face. "Face it, you're tone-deaf. Being a Vampire doesn't magically make you a good singer."

"Those are some fighting words, Lovely. Can you back them up?"

"We can settle this tonight if you want. You and me; we can duke it out in a singing swag off with Will as the judge." Lovey declares with a smirk before they head into the living room. All revved up as if their previous anxiety over dinner had never happened.

"Oh my..."

Vincent turns to Will with a grateful nod. "Thanks for helping them relax. And hey, you don't have to stay if you have some other plans tonight, Will."

Will stares back at his Progeny with a faux, scandalous look on his face, complete with a hand on his chest. "Why, Vincent, where would I be anywhere but here? It's not every day that I get to see you humbled by your lover. Don't think I forget that you were once known as the Playboy of the Solaire Clan."

Shock looks good on Vincent's face. It's cute that he actually forgot how he was before Lovely walks into his life. Oh, Will is going to milk this for all its worth.

"Alright! The system is set up!" Lovely announce from near the TV with a microphone in their hand. "Will, come on! You need to help me prove that Vincent sings like a dying cat. Here, here!"

"Oi, oi! We haven't even started yet!" Vincent rebuke and flits over to grab the spare microphone. "You know what, Lovely? I'm so confident that I'll win this that I'll let you go first."

Lovely grins viciously and accepts his offer. Once Will makes himself comfortable on the couch and signals for them to begin, Lovely open their mouth,

Will couldn't stop smiling as Lovely sings their heart out, and Vincent makes his grand entrance after they're done (singing one of Will's favourite songs in hopes to sway his Sire to his side). Vincent and Lovely are having the time of their life, teasing one another as they sing. Will commits this night into one of his most cherished memories.

*"Dari apa yang aku perhatikan

Manusia mahu senang tapi tak semua mahu berkorban

Dari apa yang mereka katakan

Ada yang jawab jujur tapi selebihnya kuat beralasan..."

However, as the night grows long, Will doesn't have the heart to tell them that they both are horrible singers.

Tonight, it's Sam's turn. Will deliver three knocks on his door before Sam swings it open. He looks exhausted, unamused and seconds away from running out of the house.

"Good evening, Sam."

"Good evening, William. Before you come in, can I ask why my Progenies insist on having a karaoke competition tonight? On the night where they knew you were coming?"

Will begins to smile widely. Both he and Sam could hear a heated argument between Frederick and Bright Eyes from the living room.

"No, you can't sing Bambi, Bright Eyes. I won't allow it! You're going to break the windows!"

"Oh my god, would you let me live, Freddy!?"

"We've been over this; you can't sing! Wait. What are you - put down that microphone - "

Music starts to play at maximum volume, and then,

Sam closed his eyes and sighed deeply and in resignation when Bright Eyes began to sing louder to drown out Frederick's shrieking.

**“Feel it like memalla itteon mam wiro

seumyeodeun danbi

dabi piryo eopji

Because you’re my favourite..."

"I don't know what had happened - and I honestly don't want to know - but I hope you're ready to deal with these two tonight."

"Why, Sam, where would I be anywhere but here?"

These are the English translations & link to the songs that Lovely and Bright Eyes were singing:

*“From what I can see

People want the good life, but are not willing to sacrifice

From what I hear

Some are honest but others are full of excuses...”

**“Feel it like timely rain that seeps into my dry heart

No other answer is needed

Because you’re my favorite...”

#redacted asmr #fanfic #they/them pronouns #gender neutral s/o #vincent solaire #lovely (listener)#william solaire #sam collins #frederick #bright eyes (listener)#pop culture references

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oumakokichi · 4 years ago

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I have a question for you about your opinions of Kaito. I've seen that you say he's homophobic and all that, but there is something about that statement that really bothers me. In his Love Suit Event, it heavily implies that Kaito not only has romantic feelings towards a very clear male rival, but also wants to win the plane race to earn the right to confess those romantic feelings. A lot of people see him as gay or bi coded, so I thought I'd ask what you thought about that.

I’ve been thinking about how to reply to this ask for a little while now, and I think I’ve finally got my thoughts all laid out. This isn’t meta, but my response will nonetheless be somewhat long, so I’ll be putting most of it under a read-more.

Anon, I’m really not sure what to tell you. Me saying that Momota has homophobic lines and behavior isn’t just my interpretation or opinion; it’s an actual fact that he does say homophobic/transphobic slurs in the game. Not in his FTEs, not in his love hotel or salmon mode, but in chapter 2 of the actual game, directed specifically at Korekiyo. The word specifically is “okama” (オカマ), and it has a very heavy and unfortunate history as a slur in Japan used predominantly against gay men and trans women, who as I’ve stated, are unfortunately often lumped together and assumed to be “the same thing” by cishet people.

I’ve had people spread misinformation about this slur, claiming that he used it in the chapter 3 trial instead and that that’s why he was being so derogatory to Korekiyo instead, but this is factually untrue. He uses this slur in chapter 2, well before Korekiyo murders anyone and before he’s revealed to be incestuous and a serial killer. And even if it were true, trying to justify the usage of homophobic and transphobic slurs with “well the person he was saying them to was a bad person so it’s okay” is a fundamentally flawed way of thinking.

It’s also a fact that he reacts with complete disgust and is horrified by even the idea of Saihara potentially coming on to him during one of his dates in salmon mode. He specifically says, “you don’t swing that way, do you!?” while using his most horrified sprite, and unlike the slur, the localization did more or less keep this line.

Again, there have been people who have tried to argue that this was simply because Momota was “sad at the idea of Saihara coming out without telling him first,” and again, this is factually untrue. Both the localization and the original Japanese dialogue of the game make it explicitly clear that he is completely grossed out at the idea of Saihara being attracted to him. This isn’t my personal interpretation or anything like that; it’s quite literally in the text.

I went and reread Momota’s love hotel to refresh my memory of the scene, and... I’m really not sure where you’re getting that he’s referring to a “very clear male rival.” He is certainly referring to a rival as his “ideal romantic partner,” but he never says anything at all about said rival’s gender. There’s absolutely nothing in the scene itself that ever specifies that he’s seeing Saihara as another guy.

In fact, for all that he talks quite enthusiastically about his rivalry with this person, he never once says any of his usual lines about “a man’s passion” or lectures about the way “men should behave.” Considering a good part of his interactions with most of the other male characters in ndrv3, not just Saihara, often involve him talking about what is or isn’t appropriate for a man (Hoshi’s suicidal tendencies are “effeminate” and unfitting for someone he looked up to, Gonta crying in the investigations is “unmanly,” etc.), I would actually say that it’s more likely he isn’t talking to another guy here, but this is just my speculation and it’s open to interpretation if nothing else.

However, it is a fact that just because Saihara is playing the part of his rival in his love hotel scene does not automatically mean that said rival “must be a guy.” Saihara plays the part of literally everyone’s ideal romantic partner in every single love hotel scene, and in most of them he’s very clearly being perceived differently than he actually appears. Hoshi, for example, is pretty clearly seeing Saihara through the lens of his dead girlfriend who he mentions in his FTEs, despite not ever explicitly referring to Saihara in his love hotel event as a man or a woman.

There’s no denying that Momota’s idea of romance is linked with passionate ideas about rivalry and competition, and that he likes grand gestures. But again, there is nothing in the text whatsoever about his rival being another man. That part is purely speculation, and nothing in the actual love hotel scene ever states that.

In my own opinion, I cannot agree with saying that a character who canonically uses homophobic slurs and reacts with open disgust to another guy coming on to him is “coded” to be gay or bisexual. Coding is the deliberate placement of subtle clues and details woven into the text to clue readers in that a character may be a certain sexuality or gender identity. With rare exceptions (like Mac from It’s Always Sunny, who by this point has been confirmed to be a gay man on the show), characters who use homophobic slurs aren’t usually “coded” to be gay or bi.

If anything, I feel that the trope of “homophobe who’s secretly a closeted gay man” does more harm than good to the LGBT community, implying that we’re responsible for the violence and prejudices used against ourselves. This trope also reassures other people whose prejudices and homophobia might be less outspoken that they’re not “really” showing any homophobic behavior or attitudes because they’re not outright saying slurs or showing their disgust, and leads them to assume that they’re not complicit.

I also feel that it’s worth pointing out that being a member of the LGBT community does not excuse anyone from homophobic or transphobic behavior, either. Having grown up in a highly conservative and deeply homophobic household, I understand perfectly well what it’s like to grow up closeted and repessed about your own sexuality. But brushing off the use of slurs directed at other people and saying that it’s okay because the person saying those slurs eventually came out is... not a great look, honestly. Even previously-closeted LGBT people still have to be held accountable for their behavior and for the harm they might have caused other people with their actions. There is no “free pass” for saying slurs to other people.

That being said, if people want to headcanon Momota as gay or bisexual, that’s an entirely different matter. Headcanons are separate from coding and are simply a matter of personal preference. Again, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to reclaim a character and actually show them growing from and apologizing for their past behavior. I can understand people who might relate to Momota’s better qualities, and who want to interpret his character in a positive way.

But it’s important in making these headcanons to not erase the fact that he did, canonically, say a homophobic slur, and to not speak over other LGBT people who are understandably uncomfortable with this fact. Just because the localization erased said slur entirely doesn’t change the intention of the original dialogue, and it doesn’t change the way Momota consistently reacts negatively to the idea of other men showing any sort of attraction to him that isn’t purely “bros being bros.”

I’m absolutely not trying to be harsh or dismissive here anon, and I hope I’ve been clear with that in my response. Again, if other people want to headcanon him as gay or bisexual because they love or relate to his character and want to see him grow from his flaws, that’s totally fine! But he’s in no way deliberately “coded” to be gay or bisexual when there are multiple instances of him having homophobic behavior in the actual, canon text.

#ask #opinions #anonymous #okay to reblog #homophobia //#i feel like this was an important discussion and i'm glad if i could share my thoughts about it if nothing else

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orsuliya · 4 years ago

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Who are you, Miss A-Yue?

It turns out I might be a clown of the greatest calibre! Or... am I?

The thing is, you see, that for some unfathomable reason I became convinced A-Yue was a ninja maid. Which... may not be, in fact, entirely correct, as @girllovescomic had promptly pointed out. Alright, I said. And immediately went to investigate where this possible misunderstanding could be coming from. The results are not entirely conclusive, yet very interesting nonetheless. There are lots and lots of tiny details, which make little sense... unless one assumes that A-Yue is supposed to be Awu’s bodyguard.

The thing is that A-Yue is not among Awu’s original Wang maids. She’s nowhere to be seen in Wang Manor and I cannot spot her in that flock of maids attending Awu during the original wedding. Unless I am more eyesight-impaired than I thought myself to be, this means she appears only later on. But when?

Not during the siege of Huizhou, I can tell you that much. Not during Awu’s visit to Wang Manor after her return to the capital nor upon her entrance to Yuzhang Manor... Why, it seems like the first time we see A-Yue is in the aftermath of Yuxiu’s brave defense of Awu and her subsequent wounding. Awu comes back home, is accosted by Zitan, speaks to a noticeably worried Song Huaien and the next thing we know, she’s being served by A-Yue. This doesn’t have to mean anything, but it looks rather suspicious for an obviously important maid, one clad in an outfit practically identical to Yuxiu’s, to simply appear out of nowhere.

And then A-Yue proceeds to escort Awu back into danger zone, that is, to the Imperial Palace. About five minutes after an unexpected assassination attempt. What’s really interesting is that she keeps very, almost unnaturally close to Awu on this occasion, following just a step behind her at all times. It could mean nothing, of course. And yet, isn’t it remarkable that this relative newcomer is the one accompanying Awu and not Su Jin’er?

It could also be completely coincidental that she is present while Song Huaien thanks Yuxiu for covering her mistress with her own body. Or... is it? You did what I could not, he says, while A-Yue listens attentively from behind Yuxiu’s shoulder.

Another thing: A-Yue makes something of a habit out of physically supporting other people, be it Yuxiu or Awu. And now that I think about it, it does look like she is always prepared to steady or even catch her charge, as needed.

The next thing we know, a very rude eunuch turns up at Yuzhang Manor with an armed escort. If you watch closely, it’s obvious that A-Yue walks one step closer behind Awu than Su Jin’er. And Su Jin’er has the highest possible status of all female attendants barring Auntie Xu. Once things become tense and men start aggresively posturing, Su Jin’er keeps staring ahead, while A-Yue rather noticeably casts her gaze around. Hmmm, could she be assessing possible dangers to her mistress? Who knows...

And again, when Awu walks down the stairs to the provided carriage, A-Yue is the first to follow.

She is then forbidden from accompanying Awu any further, but it’s a rather curious detail all the same.

Next, Su Jin’er is the one who goes with Awu to see Zitan on his deathbed bedrest, which is something that Xiao Qi very much does not approve of. True, Su Jin’er is Zitan’s acquitance, while A-Yue is not... but if that was the only reason, then why doesn’t she go with Awu to visit Jinruo? Instead, A-Yue and Nanny Xu are the ones that do that. Also, guess who runs to Xiao Qi when Awu drinks herself into unconsciousness? No born and bred Wang maid would do that, not as her first resort. And you know what? Xiao Qi allows himself to show some actual exasperation while in her presence.

During Daddy Wang’s coup A-Yue is nowhere to be seen; this time Awu chooses to take Pang Gui with her. Which is understandable, since he’s bound to be better in an outright fight. After the coup... guess which maid gets asked about whether there are any news from Xiao Qi when he’s nowhere to be found late into the night. And which one accompanies Awu and Xiao Qi to Yuzhang Manor when they go to greet the Screechers. Xiao Qi could have very well been the one to choose A-Yue for this outing as Awu would have needed to dress and get ready after her morning lie-in. Also, it would make sense, since I suspect Su Jin’er or Nanny Xu would be Awu’s natural choices for any visits to her childhood home.

Song Huaien is a man on a mission... and he chooses his allies wisely. He, ah, covertly calls A-Yue away from her daily tasks and asks her to play messenger...

...which she teases him for rather shamelessly. But not like a maid with little to none previous acquitance with Song Huaien would do. She’s mean in a very sisterly way, not giggling about his awkward courtship as Yuxiu’s friend might have done, but instead directly making fun of Song Huaien himself. I wouldn’t have expected our general Song to give flowers to a woman, she says, which makes me wonder how would she even know what a total mess he is with such things. Unless she was a Ningshuo girl, that is.

A-Yue’s involvement in the medicine caper is also very interesting. She is the one who makes Awu’s contraceptive tea and reminds her that she should take it. Moreover, her reaction to Auntie Xu taking it away is telling.

She doesn’t protest when Auntie Xu says that the tea might have been steeped for too long. She just turns, observing very closely and even worriedly as the tray is carried away, while at the same time listening to Auntie Xu’s somewhat incoherent muttering. Yet A-Yue catches all of it, why, she even smiles - somewhat condescendingly - at Auntie Xu’s claim of having an excellent nose. And she is so focused on that tray that Awu needs to call her back to reality. But why? I think somebody here might be in cahoots with Xiao Qi, don’t you? It only becomes more plausible as A-Yue turns out to be the one responsible for keeping custody of medicinal herbs.

I also don’t buy her reaction to Auntie Xu’s outright panic in the kitchen. It’s obvious that something is very much not okay, yet A-Yue shows no serious worry. Oh, she asks the right questions and puts on a mask of concern, yet at the same time doesn’t seem eager to investigate further and shuts up when Auntie Xu tells her not to ask any questions. Hello, A-Yue is no cowed housemaid. She makes faces at Auntie Xu and Screecher both, she teases Song Huaien, she acts like an older sister to Yuxiu and doesn’t keep proper distance from her mistress. And now she just shuts up? Yeah, no.

Her behaviour around those herbs is also pretty sus. She’s a bit too helpful in fact, rushing to unwrap them even as Nanny Xu already does the same and she announces herself in a very rehearsed way when she brings back the remaining supply. Here I am, Auntie Xu! Really? What’s more, she doesn’t make a peep when asked to sneak out and discreetly summon an unfamiliar doctor. She simply nods, as if making some calculations in her mind and rushes away. Methinks somebody went to inform Dawang before summoning that doctor. Why? Well, Xiao Qi stops in place once Nanny Xu touches upon the subject of Awu’s medicine. Could be guilt. Could be that he already knows she’s onto him.

Enough about the herbs. Instead, let us look at other outings. Awu wants to keep her first meeting with Helan Zhen secret... and so Su Jin’er is the one to accompany her. Then Su Jin’er falls sick, but she’s healthy again by the time Awu goes to dance for Screecher’s freedom. Coincidentally, by then there is no need to keep secrets any more; Xiao Qi already knows what’s what. And look at what happens when Awu and Helan Zhen go for a walk.

I’m not saying that A-Yue could take out Helan Tattoo. I’m also not saying she couldn’t. Awu knows that she could be walking into danger, so why not take Pang Gui instead? Ah, we’re trying to appear friendly and accommodating? Then A-Yue is a much better choice. If she is a bodyguard in the first place, that is.

Next suspicious thing, although that could be a matter of translation: when A-Yue speaks of Awu going with Xiao Qi to Ningshuo, she refers to it as returning there. Hey, A-Yue, your Ningshuo cred is showing!

Then, when Awu in on the run, she’s very sure that Miracle Baby will be safe traveling alone with only Nanny Xu and A-Yue to protect him and get him to Turnip. Let’s face it, Nanny Xu is not somebody who should be entrusted with what amounts to a covert mission. And yet Pang Gui goes with Awu and Su Jin’er, while A-Yue takes charge of Miracle Baby and Auntie Xu. Miracle Baby is much more vulnerable than Princess Yuzhang, so how come Awu divides the group this way? Unless she absolutely doesn’t trust Pang Gui to behave in a discreet manner... or A-Yue is indeed a secret operative. Or both.

Let’s skip to Awu’s confrontation with Turnip over Auntie Xu’s grave. Pang Gui is the one to invite Turnip to come... and yet it’s A-Yue who remains present during the actual conversation. Could it be that Pang Gui taking her place would be too much of an overt threat? Yeah, okay, that one is a bit of a stretch. And so is this picture:

Very symbolic, don’t you think? It looks as if Ningshuo soldiers are standing guard over Awu. Okay, back to actual proof!

A-Yue, who had never really taken part in dressing Awu or putting up her hair, suddenly does just that as Awu gets ready to play her part in Xiao Qi’s fake coup. Battle music and all. It could be that she’s the last close attendant to be left standing. Which she is, now that I think about it. But it’s also pretty neat that she’s the one to dress Awu for war. And then...

How many ninjas can you see on this picture? Because I see six, five in black, one is salmon. Why would Awu take a maid with her to the palace in the middle of the Yuzhang Acting Company performance? That doesn’t make sense, they’re practically going into battle.

And again, look what happens once Xiao Qi is supposedly gone and Awu is expecting an attack any moment. She doesn’t take Hu Yao with her. Not even a dressed up Hu Yao! She takes A-Yue.

How would a maid - and not even a palace maid at that! - help in evacuating Zitan?

And yet she does. The moment they hear enemy troops moving through the secret tunnel, two people rush to pull Awu back. One has a very respectable reaction time. And it’s not Pang Gui the Inept Ninja.

One bodyguard rushes the client to safety, looking back from time to time just in case, while the other covers their retreat.

Pang Gui is in the know! He must be, since he stays behind to stop Song Huaien’s Mooks, letting Awu charge into unknown danger with only Zitan (oh so useless), his two attendants (also useless) and A-Yue (potentially immeasurably useful) for company. The whole time they’re running through the palace? A-Yue sticks to Awu like a burr, steading her every time she falters. This girl is a bodyguard and a well-trained one to boot!

And oh look, somebody keeps turning to stand face to face with danger, even as Zitan’s attendants huddle behind her.

Once cavalry arrives, A-Yue sprints for Awu and pulls her out of the way, just as Tang Jing commands his people to protect their Princess. Then, perfectly in accord with Tang Jing’s next command, A-Yue gets Awu to safety.

Have I mentioned that A-Yue keeps looking around in a very cold, professional way? This is no brave maid, this is a skilled operative searching for potential threats to her VIP. Neither Tang Jing nor any Ningshuo soldier tries to help Awu and A-Yue, they just cover them. Could it be that they know Awu is in good hands?

And that’s it. Now, coincidences happen. But what’s more probable? That A-Yue is a normal, if very brave and dependable maid... or that she is Xiao Qi’s agent, carefully handpicked to protect Awu and seamlessly integrate into her entourage at the same time? Those two ninja maids Xiao Qi presents to his wife in Huizhou are good fighters, but they don’t exactly make the best maids. Let’s say, though, that they were all he had at hand in Huizhou. But what would stop him from sending for another guard? One who would wait for Awu’s arrival in the capital, rapidly learning all there is to know about being a personal attendant.

So... am I a clown or not?

#the rebel princess #monarch industry #or maybe I am just pulling it out of thin air #anything not to admit to my mistake #but I wouldn't be so sure about that

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ollieofthebeholder · 4 years ago

Text

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Tumblr tag || Also on AO3.

Chapter 38: Statement of Kieran Blackwood, regarding...choice. Recorded direct from subject, twenty-fifth of March, 1997.

[CLICK]

KEEPER

When did you start using these for official statements?

GERTRUDE

If this were official, I would have you write it down. Most of the people who come in with a statement simply fill out the forms provided by the Institute.

KEEPER

So why not have me write it down? Why bother to listen?

GERTRUDE

Because I suspect that what you’re about to say would be…unwise to add to the Archives.

KEEPER

It’s not related to that statement, if that’s what you’re getting at.

GERTRUDE

I don’t think it is, no.

But I do think that, whatever it is that brought you here, it may not be something that needs to be available to everyone. I’ve begun recently making audio recordings of statements that I want my research to be…private, shall we say?

KEEPER

Or we could say “secret”.

GERTRUDE

(heh) Fair enough. Any live statements that I feel could be…useful, to myself or my successor if need be, go on the tapes as well. In this case, I suspect it may be both.

KEEPER

You may not be wrong.

GERTRUDE

Besides. I don’t know that I’ve ever had another…devotee of one of the Powers walk in off the street and offer me a statement. Call it curiosity.

KEEPER

I can certainly assuage that, Trudy.

GERTRUDE

Don’t call me that.

KEEPER

Sorry. Occupational hazard.

I’m sure you know how that goes by now.

GERTRUDE

I suppose I do.

Statement of Kieran Blackwood, regarding…

KEEPER

Choice.

GERTRUDE

Recorded direct from subject, twenty-fifth of March, 1997. Where would you like to start?

KEEPER

At the beginning, I suppose.

KEEPER (STATEMENT)

As long as there have been lighthouses in England and Ireland, there’s been a Blackwood manning at least one, probably dating back to the Dover Castle in Kent and leading all the way down to my father. My earliest memory is of him holding me as we stood on the railing, the beacon flashing across the night-darkened sea, keeping safe any ships that might be sailing by. He took his responsibility seriously, and so did I. I remember telling my best mate, a boy whose family lived next door to where Ma and I lived, that I was going to be a keeper myself one day. He asked how I knew, and I told him it was what we Blackwoods always did.

I told Dad that, too, and he took me on his knee and explained a few things. He said the Blackwoods had always been lighthouse keepers, not because we wanted to, but because we had to. He said I was going to be starting school in the fall and that I was a bright lad, so I’d have choices he never had. He told me he wanted me to do the best I could, and that when the time came, I could choose to be a keeper if I wanted, but it had to be my choice.

He died that winter. There was a bad ice storm, and while he was scraping the glass clear, he forgot to shield his eyes when the light came around. It blinded him, and he lost his balance and fell. Hit the rocks at the base. They found him washed up on shore the next morning. Ma took poorly and was in bed for a few days when we got the news, and I went to stay with my best mate until she could get up, but she never quite recovered. I was afraid Ma would want to move back to Ireland where her family was, but she said we had roots too deep in the Bournemouth soil to leave it now. Wasn’t until years later that I found out how little money we had—we couldn’t afford to leave. Then again, if Grandmother hadn’t left us her house, we wouldn’t have been able to afford to stay.

I still wanted to be a lighthouse keeper, but by the time I was ready for the eleven-plus, I knew I couldn’t. For one thing, Ma got into hysterics any time I mentioned it—like it would somehow be more dangerous than anything else I could have done, just because it killed Dad—but for another, they were beginning to automate lighthouses by then. Every year there were fewer and fewer jobs, and I’d have been lucky to get one. My grades were all right, but I knew I wouldn’t pass any of the tests needed to be a keeper.

If I couldn’t do that, I decided, I’d do something on the sea. My best mate and I used to play at pirates some when we were little, and we talked about doing that, but of course you couldn’t really do that. We thought about the Navy, too, but we agreed that whatever we would do, we would do it together. By the time we were sixteen, though, I knew I wouldn’t make him. He was smart, top of our class. I barely scraped by with a pass. So we made another deal, him and I. I’d go into trade, learn to sail, to fish, and he’d go on with his education, get a degree in business. Together, we’d build our own fishing company, go out together. Someday, we said, we’d have our own business, a business we could hand down to our sons if we wanted, if they wanted.

I found a job with a fishing crew. Deep-sea stuff, extended voyages. The money was good, so I could take care of Ma and save up a bit, too. And winters were my own, so I could spend them at home. I was a bit of an outcast among the crew, though, and not just because of my age. Even when they were together, they were silent and…distant. The captain was one of the owner’s sons, so of course he was too high and mighty to talk to any of us, but I always felt like he was…watching me. Like I’d disappointed him, even though I did everything right. I felt sometimes like I was the only one with connections on shore—not just Ma, but Walt. We were right close. Looking back…there might’ve been more there than we ever admitted, but it just wasn’t done.

Then I met Liliana.

Walt introduced us. Actually, he was just starting to date Sarah at the time and they needed a fourth for dinner, so Sarah invited her along. I won’t say it was love at first sight…truth be told, I won’t say there was ever love. I’m still not sure Lily’s actually capable of feeling positive emotions towards other people, to be honest. But we had some of the same interests, then. We both liked to dance, we liked the same books, the same foods. She introduced me to her father just before I went out that year, and the old boy and I hit it off, so when I got back in the winter we started keeping company again.

Ma died in January, and Lily came to the funeral, which I appreciated. The four of us got a bit drunk that night, and…well. I was getting ready for the next salmon run when she told me she was in the family way. I was just considering my options when Walt called and asked if I thought the crew could use another sailor, because Sarah was expecting, too. He was leaving school immediately—they needed the money.

I—I couldn’t let him join the crew. It felt like a waste, and I knew he’d want to be there for Sarah and the baby…and I kind of hoped he’d be there for Lily and mine, too, since I couldn’t be. Besides…something about Captain Lukas gave me the creeps. I wouldn’t willingly subject anyone I loved to to that. Luckily, my father-in-law had just mentioned to me that he needed a general handyman about the place. The pay was just as good, and Lily and I had made our home base not far away, so it seemed perfect. We had a quick double wedding, and I went out with the fishing run.

She gave birth right after I got home. We were a bit early back that year, come to think of it, but at the time it never occurred to me that there was anything odd about that; we’d hit quota, that was all. I didn’t love Lily, I told you that, but my God, when that doctor laid the baby in my arms and told me “it’s a boy”, I fell in love then and there. Walt’s boy was born about a month later. There’s a picture somewhere of the two of us, sitting on Alastair’s porch, rocking a pair of sleeping babes and talking.

At least, I hope it still exists somewhere. Brings me comfort thinking it does.

Walt died right when he said he would, three weeks before the fishing run started. The three of us went to the funeral, but Sarah screamed at Alastair before it even started. Accused him of killing her husband.

GERTRUDE

I can’t imagine—

KEEPER

Oh, it wasn’t. Complete accident. The old man wasn’t even home at the time, he’d taken the boys to a science exhibition of some kind. And I’m the one who found him, come to that. Sarah was just hurting and needed someone to blame. But it ended with her ordering us to leave. The look on Walt’s boy’s face when I pried mine away from him and said we had to go is one that still comes to me when I’m having trouble sleeping.

KEEPER (STATEMENT)

My boy and I got a lot closer after that. That boy was my world. My light. The beacon that drew me back to shore. I started calling him Wickie before he could talk. Lily hated that nickname, but then, she hated a lot of things.

She—she wasn’t strong. I don’t mean her health, necessarily, although I know it was a hard pregnancy and that’s when her troubles started. I mean her mind. It was so—easy for her to give into despair. We’d never been close, but we got further and further apart every year. We’d probably have fought more often than we did, but I wouldn’t put Wickie through that. Instead, I’d absent myself. That didn’t help.

Plans. Choices. They never go the way we mean them to.

I gave it one last chance, and it’s one I’ll probably regret to my dying day. The Lukases have a Christmas gala every year, but you have to be an officer on a vessel or serve fifteen voyages before you get an invitation. Suppose it’s to make sure you’re loyal enough to deserve it, but maybe it’s also to make sure you know the rules. I don’t know. The year Wickie turned eight was my fifteenth year with the crew, so I got the invite. It included the whole family. Lily was actually enthusiastic about it, but…she didn’t want to bring Wickie. Said he wouldn’t behave. I—I’m the one that insisted on giving him the choice. Of course he said he wanted to come.

I wish I hadn’t let him.

There were no other children there. That should have been my first clue something was wrong. None of the other sailors even had spouses or sweethearts. I was the only person besides the Lukases themselves who actually brought my family. Maybe the only one who had a family to bring.

I talked Lily into a dance or two. We used to like it, once, and for a song or two it seemed like we’d got back…well. It didn’t last. She said she was tired and wanted a drink. I found her a seat at a table where she and someone from the shipping side of the company could ignore each other and went to fetch her something, and I was looking around for Wickie. I—I found him, eventually. He was off to one side, looking scared, looking…lost. One of the Lukases—Peter—was talking to him. He seemed perfectly friendly, but I could see the fog rolling off him, threatening to engulf my boy. Didn’t seem to be anyone else who could see it, or maybe everyone was just ignoring it. He reached forward to tuck a curl behind Wickie’s ear, and the fog curled that much closer.

I admit I had a bit of a reputation for fighting when I was in school. Never unprovoked, mind you, but…well, between the fact that I was half-Irish and the fact that my best mate was darker than some people liked, I got in my share. I don’t have a temper, but I do have a protective streak a mile wide, and I’m not above acting on it.

As you might imagine, breaking your boss’s son’s nose isn’t exactly the sort of thing that looks good to your employers. I got Wickie and Lily and we left then. Took me the better part of the next week to convince Wickie it wasn’t his fault I’d got in a fight, but it rather put a damper on our Christmas. At the beginning of January, I got a rather terse letter from the Lukases telling me I’d not be welcomed back to the crew.

I…I didn’t tell Lily. I certainly didn’t tell Wickie. Lily was starting to get sick, I couldn’t have told you what it was, but we needed an income and now all we were getting was the bit she picked up at the tailor’s when they needed her. I was desperate to try and come up with something, anything, but nobody was hiring. I swear to you I was about three days away from coming to you and asking if you’d take on a new assistant when there was a knock on our front door one foggy night.

(heh) The fog should have been the clue, really, but it wasn’t, and like a fool, I opened the door. Peter Lukas was standing there. I almost shut the door in his face, but he told me he felt bad about me losing my post on the crew. Said my boy deserved better than an unemployed father, and he was there with an offer. Against my better judgment, I listened.

His family owned a lighthouse, he said. One it was important to keep lit, but just then it was without a keeper. He wanted to offer me the position.

I didn’t believe what I was hearing for a minute. The idea of actually getting my childhood dream after all…and from someone I had every reason to hate? I knew there had to be a catch, so I asked, and I was right. Peter told me it was a stag station, meaning no families; Wickie and his mother would have to stay.

I—I laughed. I asked him how big a fool I thought he was. I’d already told him once to stay away from my boy, and if I wasn’t there, what was to stop him from going after him? Peter took the contract out of his pocket and showed me a clause that explicitly said he would stay away from my son, as long as I kept the light. He gave me the paperwork and told me to think it over, and if I was interested, to sign it and send it back and it would all be taken care of, but warned me I’d have to leave by the time the season started.

That night, with Lily and Wickie both asleep upstairs, I read over that contract with a fine-toothed comb. It all seemed airtight. The pay was decent, enough to keep up with Lily’s medical bills at least, and the tasks were exactly what I would have expected. It wasn’t until I got to those last clauses that I realized what the catch was. It explicitly stated that the Lukases would stay away from Wickie as long as I held the position—but it also stated that I had to do the same. Should either one of us break the taboo and talk to him, it would be fair game for the other to do the same.

I didn’t have much time to think about it. The season was only a week away. I thought about asking Alastair, but I knew what he’d say—not to have anything to do with anyone tied to those things. He’d never been thrilled I worked for the Lukases anyway, but at least before I’d had some distance. This was…worse, somehow. I thought about taking Wickie and absconding in the night, but—but I couldn’t do that. He’s smart, Trudy, he can do so much, and I knew if we were on the run he’d lose so many opportunities.

There was only one choice, in the end. I signed the contract and mailed it off.

The night I left was the night I would normally have left for the fishing run, so I just…let Wickie think that was where I was going. Went through our usual routine. We had alphabet soup and cherry preserves for dinner, then I tucked him in and sang the old sea shanty I always sang the night before I left, to put him to sleep. Once he was asleep, I went downstairs to talk to Lily.

I won’t repeat the things I said to her. Suffice it to say I made sure she knew I wouldn’t be back, and…I let her believe that it was what she’d accused me of before. That I was leaving because of her, because I didn’t want to deal with her and her issues anymore. I left that night knowing I’d well and truly burned that bridge behind me.

Peter Lukas met me at the docks. We didn’t speak. Ignoring all the ships preparing to go out, we went down to the shore and began to walk, silently, until all others had faded away and it was just us, the sand, the waves, and the grey of the pre-dawn sky. And then…there was a door. An old oak door with a brass knob, supported by no structure, standing on the beach and waiting. Peter stopped, pointed at it, and said, simply, “The door to the Light.”

I didn’t ask questions. The time for questions was past. It was my last chance to choose differently…but even if I hadn’t signed that contract, I don’t think I could have chosen to do other than what I did. I shouldered my bag, took a deep breath, and strode through the door.

And I took up my duties as the Keeper of the Light.

It has no name. It needs no name. It’s just…the Light. Fifteen feet in diameter, made of brown stone, it stands on a mountain overlooking, not the sea, but a desert. A vast, impenetrable desert, with nothing as far as the eye can see. The beacon it shines over this desert is not white, but red, bathing the sands periodically in light the color of blood.

The first day I was there, I did an inventory. There were all the things I remembered my father having when I was a wee nipper, things I only vaguely remembered the purpose of, but I knew I’d learn quickly. I’d been told the light would be fully equipped at all times, and it was. The oil was full, there were plenty of fresh wicks, and all the tools were in perfect working order. There was a single bed, big enough for a single man to sleep, although not particularly comfortably. There was a table with one chair. There was one plate, one bowl, one cup, one fork and spoon and knife. The cupboards, I had been assured, were fully provisioned, but I wasn’t yet hungry, so I went to look at the rest of the light.

There were no windows, but there were pictures on almost every wall, each one framed in a different frame. Each picture looked like it was a windowpane, which I thought odd. Then I looked in one, and I couldn’t hold back a gasp. It was a window all right, and one I knew. It was looking into Wickie’s bedroom. I could see him, as clearly as if I was right there, hair rumpled with sleep, looking absolutely devastated. Lily was standing there, too, holding a picture in one hand. I think it was the photograph of the two of us he keeps on his nightstand. She must have been taking it away.

It hurt. I looked away and went to look at another picture. There was a little boy in it, looking—terrified. Upset. Like he wanted to cry or scream but didn’t know if he was allowed. He was reaching a hand out towards a house, where a young man was looking into an open door. He looked like something inside had caught him off-guard, and—something dark, something inside, was reaching out like it was going to grab him. There were cobwebs in all the corners, but they were part of the picture.

For a moment, I didn’t know why it was there—but then I gasped again. I recognized the boy, or thought I did. It looked like Walt, exactly like Walt had at that age. Then—then I saw the eyes. Walt’s eyes were blue, a bright, bright blue that outshone the ocean. This boy’s were a warm and guileless brown. Like Sarah’s. This was Walt’s boy.

The pictures aren’t static. They aren’t of things that were. I realized that as the days, weeks, went on. They change from time to time. I’ll see Wickie working away on his knitting, or Walt’s boy curled up with a book, or one of them standing outside and looking at the sky. It lets me…keep an eye on them, I suppose. But it aches. It’s the ache of separation and loneliness. I can’t look at them too often.

The only place to see out is from the railing around the light. It looks out over the desert, and from there, I can see everything. Doors appear periodically, more old oak doors with brass knobs supported by no structures. They never last long. Sometimes people stumble through them, and then the doors disappear. The people wander the desert. Their paths cross all the time, or go alongside one another, but they never talk, they never see. Each person in the desert believes themselves to be alone.

I can hear them sometimes. I hear them talking, desperately reaching out. They’re all looking for someone, all missing someone. They run for the doors when they see them, but they don’t always make it, and they don’t always see them. I wondered about those doors, about where they led…at first.

Three months in, I found out.

I was doing a perimeter check of the lighthouse, around midday. A door appeared, just in front of me. I walked closer to it, and it didn’t move. For me, the doors stay. I hesitated, then grasped the knob and opened it. The room beyond was dark, the hands of the clock indicating it to be later in the evening than I knew it to be where I was. Time doesn’t move the same way there, I supposed. Then I realized where I was. I was in Wickie’s bedroom. He was curled up asleep, having a nightmare, poor thing. I wanted to go over and comfort him. I’d actually taken half a step over the threshold when I stopped, when I remembered.

Choices.

I had the choice to go in, to see my boy, to hold him and let him know I loved him and would never stop. But if I did—if I do—then Peter Lukas can get at him. He’s so young, I know the—I know they don’t normally go for children, but…I worry. I can’t risk opening that door.

They keep appearing. More and more frequently. And now…the more attuned I am to the Light, the more I know what I’ll find on the other side. And it’s hard not to go through.

I can redirect them. Sometimes. Or maybe I can just open another one. One every…well. To me it’s one a year. But that’s the thing. As I said, time doesn’t move the same way in the desert that it does everywhere else. It’s been about a year, as far as you’re concerned, since I signed that contract and took the job. For me? It’s been more like ten. But I can a door and let it take me wherever I want. I’ve done it when the temptation is too strong. The last time was Christmas. (sighs) Wickie started in chorus this year. His first concert…I could have gone. Could have stayed in the back of the room, maybe, and just listened, just seen him. But what constitutes contact, what violates the contract? I couldn’t risk it. So I did the next best thing. I opened a door and went to Bournemouth and saw Walt’s boy. Didn’t talk, didn’t tell him who I was. Just stood on the shore next to him for a while. I wanted to…but I didn’t.

I don’t even know if he remembers. I couldn’t hurt him by giving him more memories. That would just make the loneliness worse when I did leave.

GERTRUDE

And you used one of these doors to come here.

KEEPER

That I did.

GERTRUDE

Why?

KEEPER

Thought you’d want to know. Honestly, I half didn’t expect to see you here. I assumed I’d have to wait for you, but your assistant—what was his name? The one that looks like he’s about twelve?

GERTRUDE

Michael.

KEEPER

Michael, aye. He told me you were in. Suppose it gets down to time being weird again.

How was it?

GERTRUDE

How was…what?

KEEPER

The funeral.

…You did go, didn’t you? Come on, Trudy, I know you’re all about keeping your past away from your present, but—

GERTRUDE

Don’t call me that. What are you talking about? What funeral?

KEEPER

Gertrude. What was Tuesday?

GERTRUDE

…My God.

KEEPER

Aye.

Lily wouldn’t be pleased to see me. Or you, for that matter. But Wickie…Lily’s making it all about herself, I’m sure. You know how she can be. I just…I hoped if I gave you my statement, you’d at least look in on him for me.

At least make sure he’s okay.

GERTRUDE

I…I’ll see what I can do.

[CLICK]

———

[CLICK]

GERTRUDE

Final thoughts.

Well. I…I don’t know what to think. This is…useful information to have regarding the Lonely. And I’ll certainly be on the lookout for any old oak doors with brass fittings. But as for the rest…

I checked. Alastair Koskiewicz’s funeral was today, and I believe I have missed it. But I may be able to at least pay my respects. I will have to be discreet if I do. Lily made it very clear she wants nothing to do with me, and I have done my best to respect that. And I know I am…observed more often than I would like. The last thing I want is to draw anyone’s attention to Martin.

I don’t think I should tell him who I am.

And, since the Keeper’s statement mentioned it…I listened to Walter Sims’ statement again, and the dates he gave for both his own death and Alastair’s match exactly. I believe I will make one last attempt at reaching out to the Stoker family, especially now that Daniel will have been born. Perhaps they’ll be more likely to listen now. I don’t know what precautions they can take, but…they should (heh) at least have the choice. At the very least, perhaps they’ll be prepared when the time comes.

[CLICK]

———

[CLICK]

[STUNNED SILENCE, BROKEN ONLY BY THE SOUNDS OF SOMEONE—PROBABLY PAST MARTIN—STRUGGLING NOT TO CRY]

TIM

…Fuck.

PAST ARCHIVIST

I-I didn’t…I had no…oh, God.

PAST MARTIN

(tearfully) W-Walter Sims…was—was that—?

PAST ARCHIVIST

My father.

He—I never knew he—gave a statement. Or that he…

Was that the grandfather you told us about?

PAST MARTIN

Yeah.

[PAST MARTIN MAKES A SOUND—A LAUGH? A SOB? BOTH?]

Guess that explains the cherry thing, huh?

PAST ARCHIVIST

(softly) I guess so.

TIM

So—hah, so you two knew each other?

PAST MARTIN

I-I mean, we were two. That was…that was a long time ago. I didn’t—

PAST ARCHIVIST

No. Neither did I, I—

[FABRIC RUSTLES, A STARTLED “OOMPH” FROM SOMEONE WHO CLEARLY WASN’T EXPECTING AN ATTACK HUG]

PAST MARTIN

Sorry, I’m so sorry, I—

PAST ARCHIVIST

No, Martin, it’s not your fault, it’s—it’s not your fault.

It’s not your fault.

TIM

That statement…your dad’s statement. Do—do you think it’s…in here somewhere?

PAST ARCHIVIST

I don’t—I don’t know.

Basira, she, she said she got as many as she could. There might be some that—I don’t know, Tim.

PAST MARTIN

(uncertainly) W-we could—we could look?

PAST ARCHIVIST

Yes. Yes, if—if you could do that, that would…

I’m sorry. I-I need to—I’ll be right back.

TIM

Jon. Be careful, okay?

PAST ARCHIVIST

I’m just going outside. I’ll be fine.

[CLICK]

———

[CLICK]

[MUFFLED SOUNDS OF THE STREET]

PAST ARCHIVIST

(muttering to himself) …won’t be sensible…I know he worries, they both do. Last thing I need to do is make that worse, but God, after that—

BREEKON

‘Scuse us.

HOPE

Jonathan Sims?

PAST ARCHIVIST

Yeah, wh—? Oh, sh—

[THE PAST ARCHIVIST WHEEZES AND COUGHS AS THE WIND IS KNOCKED OUT OF HIM]

BREEKON

Miss Orsinov wants to see you.

HOPE

Says she changed her mind.

PAST ARCHIVIST

No, please, I—

[VAN DOOR SLIDES OPEN, A LOUD THUNK AS THE PAST ARCHIVIST IS SHOVED INSIDE]

[DOORS CLOSE AND ENGINE STARTS]

PAST ARCHIVIST

Oh, God.

[CLICK]

———

[CLICK]

[HIGH HEELS CLICKING ACROSS A HARDWOOD FLOOR]

ELIAS/JONAH

Ah—Sasha.

[FOOTSTEPS STOP]

SASHA

Yes?

ELIAS/JONAH

Coming back from lunch?

SASHA

…Yes?

ELIAS/JONAH

I’m a bit busy today, so I don’t really have time to get down to the Archives. Please let Tim and Martin know that Jon will be out for a few days.

SASHA

…Sure.

Is…everything all right?

ELIAS/JONAH

Perfectly.

I just have something I need for him to do. It might take some time. I’m sure he’ll explain everything when he gets back, but meanwhile, do make sure your colleagues stay on task, will you? No doubt you have a lot to work on.

SASHA

Yeah, of course. We’ll keep things running smoothly while he’s gone.

ELIAS/JONAH

Thank you, Sasha. I knew I could count on you.

(under his breath) Reliable old Sasha.

SASHA

…Thank you.

[FOOTSTEPS RESUME, CHANGE TO A SLIGHTLY MORE HOLLOW SOUND AS IF SOMEONE IS WALKING DOWN STEPS, SLOW TO A STOP]

[SOUND OF NUMBERS BEING DIALED ON A PHONE]

[THREE TONES]

AUTOMATED INTERCEPT MESSAGE

The number you have reached is not currently in service. Please hang up and try again.

SASHA

Shit.

[CLICK]

#ollie writes fanfic #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#tma #the magnus archives #the formatting's better on AO3 #isolation tw #gaslighting tw #loneliness tw #kidnapping tw

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revisionaryhistory · 4 years ago

Text

Three Days ~82

~*~Emma~*~

I awoke to see Sebastian laying on his side, leaning onto his elbow, with his head propped up on his hand. Diffuse sunlight filled the room and clearly showed me his face. He didn’t look sleepy. His face was relaxed with the slightest smile. Who knows how long he'd been watching me sleep. That thought made me smile.

He jerked his head up a little, "Tell me what you're thinking."

"I like seeing you when I wake up and knowing you'll be the last person I see before I fall asleep. And I'm excited about everything in between."

"The Louvre, dinner on the Seine, cabaret. Fun day."

I shook my head with a frown, "No, not what we're doing. I'm excited to spend the day with you." Sebastian closed his eyes, smiled a little wider, and took a few breaths. I knew what he was doing. He was taking in my words, feeling them, believing them. Before he opened his eyes, I moved closer to kiss him. "Je t'aime."

"I know that one." His fingers ran through my hair, smoothing the morning disarray. "In how many languages can you tell me you love me?"

I gasped and held my mouth open, "Just three, but now I have a goal."

"Crazy girlfriend."

I rolled on top of him, "Just about you." I did exactly what you’re supposed to do when you're naked in bed laying on top of a naked man.

I tickled him.

Our tickle fight lasted until we were laughing so hard it was hard to breathe. That and when Sebastian pinned my hands to the bed. "Je veux te faire l 'amour." He kissed me and pressed his erection closer between my legs. "I have a good memory too."

I don't know how it gets better than this. Waking up in Paris, with a gorgeous man watching me sleep, making love, then sitting on the terrace in big fluffy robes having coffee and croissants.

The guide at The Louvre was knowledgeable but a little stuffy. We spent much of the tour hanging back with another couple laughing inappropriately. The museum was incredible and we stayed around after the tour to revisit areas and check out some places not included. Sebastian liked items where I was mesmerized by the vibrant colors of the paintings. Lunch today would become our go-to. Pick up something near to and find a spot to sit in the park. Food and people watching was always a good time.

We headed back to the hotel to fool around before dressing for dinner. On the boat, we were seated by the window. We headed to the upper deck with a glass of wine for sunset. Last night's sunset view was unforgettable for many reasons. Tonight's was more beautiful with the lights of the city and bridges. It was romantic in a more refined way. Last night was casual clothes sneaking kisses in the dark. Tonight was dressed up, high heels, and elegant stemware. Kisses weren't as sneaky in the wide open space. The food was delicious. We started with duck foie gras and Scottish salmon. My main was scallops with sweet potato risotto and seaweed cream. Sebastian promised to save me from the seaweed if it triggered me. He went for a filet of beef, pea pudding, and veal gravy. The aroma from the fresh bread with the cheese course was mouth watering. Sebastian enjoyed my excitement and took more pictures of me eating cheese than anything else except drinking wine. For dessert, we decided one decadent and one fresh. A white chocolate raspberry lychee sphere and lemon basil tart. I nearly had to stab Sebastian with a fork for hogging all the sphere. The return trip was dark. Only the lights of the city and running lights illuminated to boat.

The night included a visit to a cabaret. That the Moulin Rouge was more touristy led us to the Crazy Horse. Still famous, but not the most sought after. We'd been told the Moulin Rouge was over the top and Crazy Horse more subtle. That may be true, but one important detail was left out. The dancers at the Crazy Horse were often naked. Sexy dance numbers, visual effects, and vibrant light shows. At times the lights were the only clothes. Darkness was used strategically as was glow in the dark body paint. What I noticed was all the women were in Louboutin, which lead me to believe the lingerie was expensive as well. There was a part with a very good looking man stripping. It was more funny than sexy. The combination of erotic dance and risqué humor kept both of us entertained

We talked about our favorite parts on the ride back to the hotel. Sebastian opened the door, letting me walk by into the hotel, "Is it wrong that I asked where the lingerie was from?"

"I wondered, but didn't think to ask. I loved the black bodysuit with all the straps."

"So did I."

Imagine my shocked face. You'd have to imagine because I wasn’t making that face. I waited until we were in the room to ask, "Did you find out where this shop is?"

He pulled his phone out and went to maps. A slow smile formed, "About two blocks. Across from Dior."

I folded my legs under me and sat on the couch. "Fun."

He sat next to me. He was fiddling with the bottom hem of his shirt. He was nervous. "Are you running up a crazy credit card bill to amuse me?"

What a sweety. My recent shopping habits didn’t match my teacher salary. I guess we were going to have this conversation. "My grandfather has it set up where his stock dividends are split between the grandchildren. It's paid out quarterly and there's no way to know how much, so I've never factored it into my budget. It goes into a savings account. I have a rule that it's only for fun. I took Angie and Eli with me to Hawaii. After a horrible start to the year, Malory and I went to Key West." I grimaced, "I don't remember much of that trip. And if I want to go shopping I can. I do appreciate your concern." I leaned over and kissed him. "There is a trust fund, but I can't touch that until I'm thirty. That's partly why it was important to go off on my own. I grew up with money, so when Jimmy said I couldn't take care of myself I needed to prove it to myself, even though I know it wasn’t completely on my own."

Sebastian interrupted, "Don't diminish what you’ve done. You started over in a new place where you knew no one or even where to grocery shop. You've got a Master's and accepted into a Doctoral program. Anyone who thinks you can't take care of yourself is wrong."

This fierce defense was very attractive. Money can be embarrassing. I realize I'm privileged, and I try not to behave like a trust fund baby. I would never go shopping as I had with anyone but Angie. I know it was a splurge.

“I just wanted to check.” I wanted to ask what if I had been, but he kept going, and I didn’t feel the need to stop him. “Back to the fun stuff. Is it bad form to buy you a gift that's really for me?"

"For my birthday or Christmas, yes. Otherwise, no. I'm not sure that sexy lingerie that gets you hard isn't as much a benefit to me as it is you."

"You realize you in sweatpants and a t-shirt gets me hard. You in a bathrobe. You in a potato sack."

"I wonder who that says more about?" We laughed and I laid across him, counting on him to support me. "It does make us both lucky."

"Oh, don't I know it."

We spent the next day touring Versailles Palace. We jumped off the tour to explore as soon as we hit the outskirts of the city. When we were out of interesting places we jumped on the metro until we saw something new to explore. Dinner was at this Ping Pong cafe. The food was delicious and fortified us for the play to come. I am just as competitive playing ping pong with my boyfriend as I am on a volleyball court. There was a lot of trash talking. What made it more fun was how truly awful we both were. Neither was sure of the rules so we argued over and made them up as we went. In the end, I lost due to a combination of unsuccessful attempts at cheating and Sebastian being slightly less awful than me. Our overly dramatic antics did amuse nearby patrons and when Sebastian was recognized he was gracious in conversation and signing autographs. We made it to the Pont Alexandre III bridge just as the sun set. It was ornate and a beautiful end to the day.

Next up was a day of museums and checking out wherever in between. We met up with a guide in the afternoon for a walking tour of Art Nouveauarchitecture. On our way back to the hotel we passed by the lingerie shop. A quick discussion later we decided not to go in. It would ruin some of the fun if the other knew what we bought. I also decided I needed to find some sexy underwear for him. I checked; he'd wear them. Dinner was my responsibility tonight. I found a rooftop restaurant with a great wine list and an even better view.

Tuesday, the day before the fashion shows, was the day I was looking most forward to. It was an early start and long trip to Mont Saint Michel. Claire had hired us a car and we napped most of the trip. The town is a tidal island and when the tide comes in it covers the causeway, only cutting off access for about an hour, but still. We parked at the tourism office and took off our shoes for the half mile walk over the mudflats. It didn’t look like a dangerous trek, but apparently, quicksand was real here.

We weren't far into our walk when Sebastian asked, "Is this Hogwarts?"

Our guide laughed, "No, but yes. The movie was not filmed here but as you will see much of the architecture is similar and the street does resemble Diagon Alley."

Sebastian looked at me, "Did you know?"

I shook my head, "I love gothic architecture and castles. Versailles was incredible, but this is a hundred times better. Stonework, stained glass, the high pointed arches." I grabbed onto his arm, bouncing on my toes. "I'm so excited. This is surreal." I held my hand out toward the Abbey. "Look at this, I mean, look at this."

He was smiling at me, "Should take you home to Romania. Lots of castles."

"Don't tease me." I let go of him and walk to stand in a small puddle. The water was cool and the sand squished between my toes. I felt like I was in the bubble from my favorite guided meditation. I put my arms out with my shoes dangling off my fingers and twirled. I stopped facing Sebastian. He had his phone out, pointed at me. "What are you taking pictures of?"

"You." He laughed, "With a castle island thingy in the background."

I heard the guide say, "Your mademoiselle is much more beautiful than the background."

Sebastian nodded, "That she is."

I walked back to them and reached for his hand. He handed his phone to our guide to take a couple of pictures before we headed on.

I was in absolute heaven. Even more so when I saw Sebastian as in awe as I was with the narrow cobblestone streets and stairways that appeared out of nowhere. Our guide had stories and let us lead, only giving direction if we were missing something. He took the lead when we approached the Abbey and guided us through spaces as tiny as closets and large as cathedrals. The arches along the walkway did look like a scene off the bridge in Hogwarts.

Our guide left us at the end of the Abbey tour and after lunch, we walked the ramparts and worked our way around looking at everything and nothing. Talking and laughing.

It wasn’t long into the ride back that I realized my thighs were aching. "What is it with Paris and stairs?"

"There's a fuck ton of them." Sebastian smirked and leaned in to kiss the side of my neck. "I will be happy to massage your thighs when we get back."

"Stretch them out?"

"Definitely."

We both retreated into our phones for a while. Neither had paid attention to them since we got here. The return trip was good for nudging each other to show a picture we took. I texted my chosen family and sent pictures. Sebastian was doing the same thing. He showed me responses on his group chat.

Charles ~ You took her to Paris? Chace ~ You can't take a woman to Paris for a first vacation Will ~ Go big or go home Toby ~ That's it. I need to meet her. Charles ~ Find a date and take the last bedroom in the villa. Toby ~ Chace, wanna go to an island with me? Chace ~ Do I have to put out? Toby ~ What do you think? Will ~ Who has the lube? Chace ~ I bet there's some in Paris.

I'd lowered my phone while I read his. Sebastian pointed to my screen, "What is that?"

"It's that app we made the list on the train."

"You need to send me the list."

"I can do better than that. Can I have your phone?" He handed it over and I went into the app store, installed, and signed into the app under my user name. "Now you can see, edit, add." I kept typing while he looked around. There was more than a sexual to do list. I was currently adding to a notebook called "Moments".

"Can I add to this?" Sebastian was in the same notebook.

"Sure." I bit my lip, "I had a thought. You can say it's stupid or you don't want to."

He put his hand on my leg, "What?"

"I was thinking since we're going to be apart for a while, we could write to each other. Not like texts talking about our day. I'd write things I want you to remember or know. When I'm missing you, I could write a couple of sentences to you or go read what you've written to me. Not any expectation of how often. Just a place for sweet things, sexy things."

I'd gotten the idea while thinking about distance and time zones and insecurity. Perusing old texts is good, but a one-stop place for just love notes is better.

"I love it." He brought me to him and met me for a kiss. "Is this for me or you?"

I had no problem with him knowing I was planning for our time apart. "You saw my love notes from high school. I love them. Texts get lost in a hundred other texts. We can even copy texts over. Pictures. You keep a gratitude journal. This is similar."

"Did you make that up?"

I shrugged, "I doubt it." I showed him how to navigate and create new notebooks. Our first notebook was "Sex To Do" We'd done that together. The one I’d been in, "Moments”, was short form memories. "Holding hands for nine hours with food and conversation.", "Waking in Paris to see you watching me sleep”, "Me showing you architecture", "You showing me artifacts".

Sebastian immediately knew something he wanted to add, I showed him how to create space between limes so he could insert his words. He was going to write in burgundy and me in navy blue. He created a notebook for longer things. He liked to write and wanted a place for more words.

I waited until he’d gotten down a thought before showing him what I'd been most excited for. "Things for Sebastian." I’d already started.

· Te iubesc, Sebasti-an

· I was so lucky to find a lost boy in a grocery store

· You always make me feel cherished and safe

"This one is for battling insecurities. You can read my words and know what you mean to me. You've said you struggle with distance, insecurity, feeling emotionally cut off. I thought this might help keep a connection."

"You've made a security journal."

I thought a moment, "I guess. We've hit a couple of bumps and worked through them. I hoped this may help keep it away over distance."

I watched him switch notebooks and read what I'd written. "Anything I write shows up for you?"

"Yes, once the app refreshes.”

Sebastian looked over with the softest smile I'd ever seen on him. "I love you." The softest kiss followed. "I tell you I'm looking for the perfect moment to kiss you and you create it. I tell you I have confidence issues and you tell me everyone hears that voice. I have a panic attack and you push me to take care of myself. I lay out my anxieties, overthinking, insecurity, and history of shutting women out and you don’t even blink. Now you come up with this way to stay connected with old-fashioned love notes." He bobbed his head back and forth. "More or less." He kissed me. "You want me to feel safe and loved."

I took a deep breath, "Partly." I was telling him my plan to battle his stuff so it was only fair I let him in on mine.

He looked at me questioningly.

"I've never been away from some I love for six weeks. I'm going to miss you and it's going to be hard. This is for me too." I am not going to cry.

His hand went under my hair to my neck, "Are you about to cry?"

"I'm trying not to, but the chance of tears Friday about noon is one hundred percent."

I let him pull me close enough to kiss, "I better get busy." He retreated to his side of the seat, stretching out a leg over my lap, and turning where I couldn't see what he was typing on his phone.

"You realize the whole point is I can see what you write."

"Don't refresh yet. I don't think we should tell each other when we add stuff."

I nodded my agreement.

He stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth like he was thinking. He typed a bit then looked over, "If I miss you in the middle of the night, I can write you and it will be there when you wake up. I don’t know which I’m looking more forward to. Writing or reading.”

I didn’t either.

#sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x ofc #marvel actor fanfiction #three days

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cecilspeaks · 4 years ago

Text

172 - Return of the Obelisk

“Nothing lasts forever” is a phrase with two meanings, and they’re both true. Welcome to Night Vale.

All of Night Vale is aglow. There is music in the air. You know what that means, listeners: the Obelisk has returned. It’s been nearly 8 years since the Obelisk last appeared, but it’s right back where it always shows up, in Mission Grove Park over on the east side, right next to the Wailing Pit. But a little bit south of the Memorial Debris Heap. The Obelisk returns every 5 to 10 years, sometimes as long as 50, and it brings with it joy, anticipation, and a deep fear. A terror so deep in the gut that it feels like you’ve eaten too much ice cream, but in all reality, your body is simply bracing itself for death. The Obelisk has always behaved benevolently, but so hast he sun, and we don’t trust that thing fully either, so I dunno. Past performance is not an indicator of future results. Unlike the sun, the Obelisk radiates a soft blue light, but like the sun, the Obelisk makes a lot of noise. In particular, music. The obelisk sounds like a Bach concerto played like a French horn and a theramine from inside a refrigerator. Everyone in town is gathering at Mission Grove Park to see the Obelisk in person, to pay homage to this rare visit, and to confront their fears head on. Hopefully everything works out fine, because there are some cool events I want to get to this weekend, and it would be terrible to have to cancel them over a rogue obelisk.

Let’s take a look at the community calendar, shall we? This Friday night is opening night of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Tony-winning musical “Sunset Boulevard” at the Night Vale Community Theatre. I’m very excited to finally see this show, it’s supposed to be a really lavish production, too. And it’s based on one my all time favorite Billy Wilder films about an aging silent movie star who finds an amulet that lets her travel in time, but whenever she moves through time, she enters someone else’s body and can’t leave until she saves her life. This staging of “Sunset Boulevard” is directed and produced by… oh my god, Susan Willman?? Really? Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrhooonestly, this has been a pretty long week and Iiii might need to just rest at home on Friday. I mean I’m not trying to be rude here, but Susan Willman is the worst! Did you know she once judged the chili cook-off, and I came in third? Third! Behind Joel Eisenberg, which is fine, Joel’s an OK cook, but also behind who else? Susan Willman! You can’t be a judge and win first place. I’m also pretty sure Susan used a prepackaged spice mix in that chili. [laughs oddly] I don’t have that verified through a secondary source, but I can confirm, it was oversalted, again. I’m not saying, I’m just saying. Anyway, go see “Sunset Boulevard” on Friday if you want to watch uninspired actors and muddled blocking.

Saturday afternoon is the PTA bake sale fundraiser to send our Academic Decathlon team to a tournament in our state’s capital. The PTA secretary… [sighs] Susan WiIlman, says this money will go toward hotel and bus travel for our brilliant and talented Ac-Dec squad. “Academic Decathlon is about intelligence and perseverance,” says Willman in this overwrought press release. “Ac-Dec is about freedom and fastidiousness. It is a celebration of hard work, and we want Night Vale to show the rest of the state that blah blah blah blah blah,” God she just runs on! I mean yes, Ac-Dec is very cool and I wish our kids well. But chill with the grandstanding! Anyway, go buy a cake to support those amazing students, even though I’m sure Susan will still manage to mess up a box mix.

Sunday is Youth Reprogramming Day at the Night Vale Museum of Forbidden Technologies. Does your child love learning about new gadgets and advancements in technology? Well, come on down to the Museum of Forbidden Technologies on Sunday for a day-long reprogramming event. Docents and curators will engage those curious kids through hands-on unlearning. They’ll take their patented mindwipe beam and point it right at each child’s forehead until all interest in forbidden technology has been removed. Kids love the mindwipe beam, because it smells like grapes, and they don’t feel any pain for weeks after. Youth Reprogramming Day is a family friendly day of discovering that you know too much, and knowledge is treason.

Today’s appearance by the Obelisk is the 19th in recorded history. Little is known about what the Obelisk is, who controls it, or what it wants. Most scientists and historians agree that it was created by subterranean gods millennia ago, and they think its purpose is a type of census for life at ground level. The Obelisk is about 25 feet tall, it is oily and soft like a fresh brick of parmesan cheese, and when it appears, everyone in town carves their name into one of its four sides. We do not know why or when this practice began, it’s simply how it’s always been done. And to question tradition is to admit weakness. When the Obelisk eventually disappears, perhaps today, perhaps several days from now, it will take our names with it. And when it returns, those names will be gone and we will begin the tradition anew. No one knows what happens to those names. Are they simply erased, or are they read and recorded? Is this data mining for some ancient technology startup, or does the Obelisk truly belong to the gods? We only know what happens to one of the names carved on the Obelisk, and for that person, we feel both envy and pity. For while the Obelisk has always behaved benevolently, past performance et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

Let’s have a look now at traffic. Route 800 is shut down until 4 PM today, as it has turned into a river. No cars are on Route 800, it’s just water. Rough and choppy, spiking white rapid caps atop nearly black rushing death. Highway officials are investigating the sudden appearance of this river, perfectly overlaying our main thoroughfare in and out of town. Beneath the quickly moving rush of the river, a single fish, probably a bass of some sort. Highway officials are uncertain because they don’t think about fish. Why would they? Highway officials are annoyed that you think so little of their awareness of fish species. They can tell a salmon from a marlin from a mackerel. “See what you made us do?” one highway official said. “We could have been repairing route 800, but you started picking on us for not knowing if that’s a bass or a mackerel or a whatnot. In fact,” the official continued, “we just looked it up on Wikipedia and it’s a bass. And fun fact,” they added, “did you know that bass can grow up to 25 pounds, have four rows of human teeth, and speak Spanish at a first grade level?” The river is now branching out down sides of streets and into neighborhoods. Pavement everywhere is a network of fresh water capillaries through town. Expect delays of up to 10 or 20 minutes, as you try to get to Mission Grove Park. This has been traffic.

The whole town feels like a carnival now with the flashing lights of the Obelisk and it’s crescendo of lively music filling the cool twilight air. We dance, we sing, we revel in togetherness and share our fears of what will happen next. What will the question be? And more importantly, what will be its answer? When every name has been placed upon the Obelisk, then the blue glow of the towering monolith will die away. The entire structure will turn black. All except one name. One name will remain lit on the Obelisk, and that person shall be sent forth to ask their question. They may ask any question they choose and the Obelisk will tell them and only them the answer. No one else will hear this communication. If the receiver wishes to share what they now know, they are allowed to do so.

Many years back, this ritual was more organized. Early Night Vale townships planned a democratic approach to this opportunity: a committee of the Obelisk was formed to decide on the single most important question to ask. This approach came about in response to the super blunder of 1932, when a 6-year-old boy named Bartholomew Thomason was chosen to deliver the question. He asked the Obelisk if he was, quote, “gonna have corn for dinner”. The obelisk apparently said no, because little Bart started crying and the Obelisk quickly disappeared, not to return for almost 10 years. By that time, the committee of the Obelisk was established and they chose the question: “how do you cure cancer?” Ah, this is a good and noble question. But the citizen chosen by the Obelisk was a farmer named Barry McKenney, who tried his best to take careful notes, but a lot of the detailed medical jargon was just too complex for him. The committee tried this question again 6 years later, but the Obelisk refused to respond to any question it had already answered. So Sidney Laynord of Old Time Night Vale, not having a backup question from the committee, asked if his wife Jessica was cheating on him with Gerald Framingham, and the Obelisk said no, but it only said that because Gerald’s actual last name was Framington, so Sidney just messed up.

Over the decades, the committee of the Obelisk asked: “Is God real”? And the Obelisk said yes, but nothing more. After that, they tried to ask questions that would elicit more detailed response. Um, one year they asked: “who planned the assassination of JFK?” and were disappointed to learn that it was a CIA - Fidel Castro – Frank Sinatra triumvirate that conspired to murder our 35th president. This was the most boring answer, but at least it verified what everyone already knew.

By the 1990’s, though, the committee of the Obelisk had kind of fallen out of fashion after years of corporate funding and corruption. See, this controversy exploded in 1997, when the question put forth by the committee, which at the time was headed by the CEO of Pepsico, was: “what’s the best tasting carbonated soft drink on the market today?” The Obelisk’s answer, to the chairman’s great disappointment, was Surge. Today, whoever is called on by the Obelisk is given free reign to ask whatever they choose. However many news outlets regularly publish lists of recommended question, but there is always the risk that someone will ask something frivolous like “what’s Jason Mraz up to these days?” or “where is the body of my missing fahter?” Please, God please, just don’t call on Susan Willman. She will blow it.

And now a word from our sponsors. Are you tired of wrinkled shirts? Do your clothes get static cling? [increasingly angry tone] How many times do you show up to work with your shirt all rumpled and not smelling like seafoam mist? You’re not going to get a promotion looking like that, and while no one deserves anything, you certainly should appear to earn that promotion. You need crisp, clean, non-ionised clothing that smells like seafoam mist. Don’t you wanna smell like seafoam mist?! Try Tide pods. With our special formula of citrus extract, kelp and milk fat, Tide pods can be the all natural solution to all of your laundry problems. You deserve Tide pods, because you deserve that promotion over Michaela, who’s only like 22 years old. What has she ever done to deserve a promotion? What’s Michaela’s deal even? Tide pods. Remember when we seemed like a big problem?

Oooooooo listeners, the Obelisk has gone dark. The music has ceased. The whole town encircles the tower waiting for its declaration for who shall ask the question. In the quiet night, under few start peeking thru the purple sky, we can hear only the sounds of crickets. The Obelisk, so black as to appear cut out from reality, suddenly shines a small blue line. It is a name, it is on the south face and is it… Oh no! No no no, listeners, I don’t know if I can stop this but I will try. Uuuh, let’s go now to the weather.

[“Pros and Cons” by Sugar & the Mint https://www.sugarandthemint.com/]

Welllll it’s too late. She’s asked her question. I’m not sure how I could have stopped this disaster, even if I made it over there before she could ask it. OK, as you know by now, the Obelisk lit up with Susan Willman’s name, and she grinned smugly and did that fake like “who me? What, oh my god!” gesture and then walked on up to the Obelisk. The crowd was calling out questions to her like game show audience trying to help a contestant, no single phrase discernible above the others, and Susan just looked around, her big goofy eyes scanning the people around her, as if she would actually lower herself to listen to their questions. [scoffs] She thinks she’s so high and mighty with her PT officer status and her hit Broadway musical. No no no, Susan’s above us all, just as important as she can be. She waved her arms like wings for quiet, and the audience obeyed, she’s so self-important, so attention seeking. And then she asked her question. The one question we as a town get only every decade or so, and Susan said: “Hey, so what’s your name?” What’s your name?!! God! What a waste! Did she forget we only get one question? The crowd began to boo, or at least I did. I started booing and I am part of the crowd.

The obelisk began to speak only into Susan’s mind and Susan listened closely. She giggled at first, like a little girl hearing a silly joke from a grandfather, and then her tear-filled laughs turned into tear-filled breaths, which eventually became tear-filled sobs. After about three minutes, the Obalisk vanished, and Susan stood alone on the small hill between the Wailing Pit and the Memorial Debris Heap, and she told us what she heard. Or [scoffs] she told us some of what she heard.

Susan said, in an unusually booming authoritative voice: “Whosoever speaks aloud the name of the Obelisk shall become the Obelisk. Whosoever becomes the Obelisk shall live forever. Whosoever lives forever shall know all things. Whosoever knows all things shall be damned. And whosoever hears the name of the Obelisk spoken aloud shall perish.” The crowd parted for Susan as she left the park. They mumbled their disappointment in both the question and its answer. Some spoke with pity, some with disdain, while some thought it was all pretty cool and now. “Much better than last time, when Dave asked who would win the 2013 NBA championships,” said one person. “Dave won a lot of money on that answer, though,” responded another. “He has a yacht now over at the Harbor and Waterfront Recreation Area.”

But most everyone whispered their fear for Susan’s power itself. I mean, Susan received a gif today, a cursed cursed gifts. You know what? I think I might go see that “Sunset Boulevard” after all and I love it. I don’t get to tell Susan very often what a visionary theatrical director she is, but I, I, [chuckles] I might even put some stacks down on her cakes Saturday too. Really support that academic Decathlon team. And the spirit of American ingenuity and perseverance, and all that.

Good question, Susan. I’d like to never learn the answer, but good question nonetheless. You’re one of, if not the, best person I know. Thumbs up.

Stay tuned next for our newest game show, “Nothing will ever be the same”.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Bite your tongue. Fun, right?

#welcome to night vale #welcome to night vale transripts #wtnv #episode 172 #return of the obelisk

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riofann · 5 years ago

Text

Rio Random

You don’t know how long you have been standing there but you watch as their body language speaks for them. You hear some words but you can’t really tell what they are talking about it’s loud at the house. An involuntary sharp breath is taken when you see him push her hair back.

“Y/N?” Your head snaps towards the direction of your name “Hey!” Marie a long time acquaintance walks over to you looking cheerful “I haven't seen you in so long” she comments

You force out a smile “Hey Marie! how are you?” you ask leaning into the hug

“I’m good! how are you wow look at you!” she compliments

You smile and look down at yourself “thanks you look good too!”

“We should hang out sometime”

“Yea! Yea text me!”

“Yea definitely! I gotta run my boyfriends waiting for me.” She gives you another quick hug “I just wanted to say ‘Hi’”

“Oh okay” you don't wait till she walks away before your eyes are trained on them but this time they are looking at you smiling. Trying to play it cool.

You march towards them and their smiles drop they knew they were caught. Without a word you start grabbing your things

“Y/N” Krystal calls to you sounding apologetic

“Excuse me” you say as you push past her and Rio

Rio shoots Krystal a mug pissed that she decided now was the for this conversation. He’s close on your tail as you walk out the door calling your name.

“Y/N!” he calls to you

You spin around so fast he almost runs into you “WHAT?”

“Its not...”

You don’t want to hear anything he has to say so you cut him off “Why not her huh Rio?” you ask repeating the words Krystal said to him “why not her Rio why Me?” You didn't even know what the context was but you could only imagine and your mind was doing circles trying to make sense of it

He’s calm and puts his hands in his pockets “Its not what it looks like”

You feel like slapping him its almost like he was un-phased by your emotions “Then what is it? I mean I get it we aren't a couple” you start to gesticulate with your hands “and this thing doesn't really have a label but” you scoff “for someone who “didn't know” Krystal you sure don't mind touching her!”

“Y/N!” You hear Krystal’s voice approaching you.

You put your finger up for to stop talking

“We were just talking” she tries to reason as she approaches you

“About what?” you ask looking at Rio

They both remain silent, but Krystal keeps looking over at Rio almost as a guidance on how to react or not

“What?” you pause to catch a breath you were getting riled up “is this some sick joke between both of you?”

“No its not....” she struggles to find the words “Its...uh”

“So why not her huh Rio i mean what was that all about?”

“Nothing he was just” she tries answering for him and he scowls at her

You cut your eyes at her “i didn't ask you so shut the fuck up!”

You turn to look at Rio and he stands there with an expressionless face.

You nod understanding that he wasn’t going to respond to you “Perfect!” you say before you walk away.

It's not like you didn't have an idea about who Rio is or what he does. But for both of them to lie to you and pretend that it was though that they met it each other through you is what you didn't understand. If they knew each other from before why not just admit it? What were they hiding?

Even after he calls you multiple times you refuse to talk to him. Damage control wasn’t really going to work on you. Roughly 2 months pass before you see him again. You were with your Aunt Brenda at the country club near her home accompanying her to a charity event taking place. If you can describe your aunt she was just like Blanche Devereaux from Golden Girls but don’t get her started on the show, cuz she swore up and down they stole her personality.

You both sit near the front of the court watching the tennis players play. There were 2 separate events Golf and Tennis and she opted for Tennis because walking around in the summer heat watching golf wasn't something she wanted to do.

She’s cheerful probably from the mimosas shes had, bubbly and talking to everyone around her. She’s never met a stranger is what you always say, it was partially true.

You stop breathing and your heart palpitates faster when you watch him walk onto the court.

“Ooh who is that?” Aunt Brenda comments a widow on the prowl she would catch anything that glimmered at her periphery

You pull your straw hat down a little further and look away and down for the majority of the time he plays. When the games end you're glad hoping to make a beeline for the car.

“Well that was fun!” she comments

“Yea!” you say as you people watch she had been chatting with friends and you drove her here so it’s not like you could just leave her without her knowing anyway.

A younger man walk by her, he smiles at her and she fans herself “whoo if i was younger!”

“You're only as old as you feel” you comment looking around you feel paranoid he has to be around the corner I mean you were mingling with the players

“You're right!...Hey! how about we eat here! Instead of driving across town again?” she suggests when no one else comes up to say hi

“Uh sure” you say looking around for the nearest exit

“Come on follow me”

You both walk inside and you find your way to the eatery

“Hi Mrs. Richmond how are you?” the hostess greets her with a bright smile

“I’m good Ashley you look cute today! Can i get a table for 2?”

“Thank you! Sure! let me see”

“Make sure it's somewhere I can see everybody... you know me” she winks

“Yea!” Ashley giggles at the inside joke as she looks at the seating chart she picks up two menus “right this way”

You both follow Ashley to the table by the windows it was great spot you could actually see the whole room. It was kind of full and the tables around you were filled with families you're thankful because that meant he would have a harder time spotting you, seeing that your back was to the door anyway at least that's what you thought.

You and Aunt Brenda both look at the menus deciding what would be the best cure for hunger after seating in 90 degree weather for half the morning well into mid afternoon

“I don’t know i’m thinking a crisp salad with fruit will be good but hell i want something savory” she comments

“Yea i feel the same way” you agree “the sandwiches sound interesting they could be savory with fries”

“I’m looking at this salmon” she looks up at you “Oooh! someones coming sit up!” she snaps her fingers at you

You do so out of habit she was always for sitting proper and being dainty, you glance back and feel your stomach drop it was Rio making his way towards you. You shoot him a half smile and turn to face your aunt bracing yourself for the conversation to come

“Ladies” he speaks his voice sounding like music to your ears it felt like a long time had passed since you last heard it

“Oooh hi” she says immediately smitten over his voice she daintily reaches her hand out “how are you I’m Brenda this is my niece...”

He grabs her hand and shakes it rubbing his thumb over it “Y/N” he turns to face you while finishing her sentence

She looks between you two shocked “You two know each other?”

“Yea Aunt Brenda this is Mr. Rio”

“Mr. Rio” she giggles “call me Brenda.... WOW! Y/N! you naughty thing you didn't tell me that you knew him all that pinning i was doing watching him play”

You smile” uh i didn't know if it was him really playing” you lie

You are all quiet for a moment before Brenda interjects “You wanna join us?”

“Sure if you don't mind” Rio comments looking at you not really caring about Brenda

“Yea its fine!”

“Y/N move!” she says gesticulating for you to stand up

“What?”

“Switch seats” she explains wanting you to sit in the seat middle you sigh as you shuffle over to the right Rio pulls out your chair

“Such a gentleman” Brenda comments and you refrain from rolling your eyes

“Thanks”

“So!” she leans over perking her bosom giving all her attention to Rio “how do you two know each other?”

You didn't know how to describe your friends with benefits relationship “We met via a friend” you say

“Oh okay tell me about yourself Mr. Rio” she says taking a sip of her water

He smirks leaning back on his seat “you can just call me Rio...what do you want to know Brenda”

Brenda blushes “well Rio first that tattoo... did it hurt?” she can’t take her eyes off it

He takes a sip of water and the muscles in his neck only accentuate the tattoo more “A little” he says flirts back

“Ooh” she fans hereslf taking a sip of water “i need to find the waiter” she says looking around “he needs to bring another pitcher of water im getting dehydrated here that voice!”

“OKAY BRENDA!”

Rio laughs throwing his head back

“What? that voice that tattoo that face mmmm!”

“BRENDA!” you scold looking at her

“Wha?” she looks at you innocently

“Can you” you shake your head don't mind her

“Nah i don't mind at all” he smiles

Things are quiet again and you and Rio sit staring at each other

“Well i’m gonna go to the bar get us some drinks. Moscow mule for you I know Rio can i get you anything?”

“Nah ’m good with water thanks”

“Okay you two behave”

“Yea” you say glancing up at her

“Shes fun!” he says chuckling at her looking back and winking at him

“She’s a trip” you say shaking your head at her comment “what can I help you with Rio?” you ask cutting to the chase

“You look good” his voice drops lower

“Thanks!” you try not to blush “didn't know you played tennis. Played well” you hope to change the direction of the conversation

“Thanks. I called you” he points out your lack of answering his calls

“I know I was busy at the time��

He nods accepting your excuse “we need to talk”

“No we don’t.... about what?”

“I'm sure you got questions for me”

“You're not gonna tell me the truth anyway, so what's the point?”

“Try me” he challenges leaning forward

You sigh “no” you were defeated

“What?” he says noticing the expression on your face

“Was i just a pawn in your game of chess?.... like you didn't care about me?.....At all?”

He holds a puzzled look “Where’d you get that from?”

“I” you take a deep breath “nevermind”

He sees Brenda coming back and stands up “i gotta go call me sometime”

“I don’t even have your number you call me on blocked all the time”

“Check your phone” he says as he walks away and when you do you have a new message with a simple text of ‘call me’

“Where's he going?” Brenda asks as she approaches the table

“He had to go” you answer

“Why’d you let him leave?”

“What was I supposed to hold him down?!”

“Yes! now i have no eye candy” she says pouting

“I'm sure you’ll find someone”

“You're right” She turns to face you and looks at you for awhile before saying “so are you wanna talk about what's going on between you two?”

“Not really” you respond looking down

“Come on you can tell me I'm your Aunty Brenda”

You sigh she was right you would often go to her when you had relationship problems and you're actually consider telling her how you got to this point.

Even after having his number you still opt to not call him. Every time you get ready to you stop yourself remembering how you both got to this point and figure it's best if you don't even open that can of worms.

Another month passes before you two run into each other. This time at a dive bar that's kinda how you two met anyway at a bar.

“So Mike tells me he wants a threesome for his birthday!”

“What?!” you say snapping back into the conversation with your best friend Mia

“Yea! that is what i said WTF right?”

You take a sip of your drink “Wow so what are you gonna do?”

“He can kick rocks unless he wants to find me another man to fuck”

You both erupt in laughter knowing it would never happen

You spend the majority of the night talking about life before your bladder is threatening to embarrass you, is when you get up and go to the bathroom.

“I gotta go pee!” you say jumping from the bar stool

“Go! Go!” she shoos you away putting her foot on your stool to save it

You walk hastily across the bar and find the bathroom a mini line with one person in front of you.

When you finally get to pee it feels like heaven on earth. And feel like you can finally breathe. It was such a relaxing feeling to pee when you had been drinking.

There's a knock on the door

“Just a minute!” You say loudly hoping they can hear you through the loud music

You finish your business and go to wash your hands when the person knocks again “GIVE ME A MINUTE!” You scream this time but when the knock happens again you're convinced this person was a true dick and you yank the door ready to have an argument only to see Rio standing on the other side

“Really” you say unamused “excuse me” you go to walk past him but like true Rio nature he backs you into the bathroom instead locking the door behind him

“What do you want?” you snap

“Wow no hi”

“Hi Rio you look good i hope life is treating you well!... what. do. you. want?”

He smirks at your sarcastic tone “You supposed to call me”

“Yea i didn't want you lying to me anymore”

He sucks his teeth “how you know i was gon’ lie”

“Ummm well lets see I know absolutely nothing about you. Oh besides the fact that you play tennis I’m sure your name isn't even Rio. You and Krystal have or had something going on that involved me and unbeknownst to me you were both playing me like a fiddle!”

He chuckles

“Is this funny to you”

“Yea kinda” he says stepping closer to you

You scoff “of course” you go to walk away from him but he steps in your way

“Nah I’m not done talking” he looks down at you

“What do you want to talk about?” you separate yourself from him, you couldn’t be around him, the cologne the voice,

He says nothing and just looks at you

“You wanna tell me it comes with the territory and i should know these things by now? I do i also know you probably have 10 other girls waiting for you to call so it's not a big deal I’m not a big deal I don't see why you're insisting on resolving things with me!”

Truth be told he did try to get over you and move on but he found himself thinking about you more often than not

“Krystal isn't who you think she is”

“And you choose now to tell me that? I kinda figured when you two were looking like exes at the party”

He takes in a deep breath and watches you

“ Do you know what it's like Rio. I’m completely exposed to you. You know everything! Everything! the good things, the bad things, things I will take to the grave with me things that I don't even want my parents to know about and majority of it i told you, the others you have your “connections” yet I don't even know your name. And then you and Krystal have something going on I don't know what. I don’t get how I’m tied into all of it.”

He still says nothing and looks at you expressionless jaws tight

“Are you just gonna stand there and say nothing?” His apathy was really getting to you “........What was i a facade or something”

“Nah”

You sigh and throw your head back the liquor getting to you “I can't do this i just” you reach for the door knob and he backs up against it “can you please” you plead with him, he bits on his lower lip he looks like he’s thinking about what to say next but instead he slowly stands straight, his eyes boring a hole into you as you leave the bathroom

“Wow that took you long!” Mia comments its been close to 20 minutes

“Yea i ran into someone”

“Who?”

“That guy” your new nickname for him

“What?” she said confused “ohhhh Rio”

“Yea” you say taking a sip

“What hes here?” she says looking around

“Yea don't make it obvious”

Her head snaps to face you “Sorry... you okay?” she asks rubbing your arm

“Yea!”

“You wanna leave?” she suggests

“NO! Its our night out forget him!”

“You sure?”

“Yup fuck him”

You both drink and the bar gets full and by now you’ve turned to face the crowd and people watch while talking shit at the same time

“Hey” you hear his voice next to you

“Hi!” you say looking at him “this is Mia” you introduce her, since they never met before, but they both knew of each other

He smiles “nice to meet you”

“Mhmmm Hi Rio” she says as she holds an unamused expression

“Must have heard a lot about me huh?”

“Some good things”

He nods “what yall drinking”

“Knock me downs”

“You want another round?”

“Yea!” Mia responds for both of you

“Y/N?” he asks you before lightly grazing his tongue on his bottom lip

“Sure!” you say adjusting in your seat, its fair to say being around him while you were under the influence was asking a lot of you

“Its packed today!” Mia comments bobbing her head to the music

“Yea its a good night! why aint yall on the dance floor?”

“You see these?” Mia says pointing to her shoes “these aren't dancing shoes”

“So you just wanna sit and look cute?”

“Period” you both say in unison

“Y/N?”

“Yea”

“What's your excuse”

“What she said” you said pointing your thumb backwards to Mia

“Thanks” he says speaking to the bartender

“Come dance with me” he says while motioning his head to the dance floor or rather where people were dancing

“Oh no!” you shake your head vigorously

“Come on please just one” he says with his hand open waiting for you

“Fine!” you say taking his hand in yours

“I'll save your seat!”

He has a tight grip on your hand as he pulls you to the middle. He stops turns and faces you the music changes and he pulls you closer to him as you dance to bachata

“Wow” you’re at a loss of words as you both move on the dance floor

“What you thought this was?” he flirts

“I didn't think this” you blush as you both move around the dance floor he holds your hand up so you can twirl for him while he smiles at you. For someone who was apathetic he sure did have moves.He spins you around so that your back is to him and you can't help but squeal as he moves your body along with his sometimes with sudden dips, making you hold onto his arms tighter. You feel his breath on your neck as the tempo changes indicating change of songs.

With arms wrapped around you tightly you both sway to the music you feel a light kiss on your neck “I missed you” he admits

You wanna call bs but this was diff he wouldn't even as much as say hi to you in public and now all of a sudden you are at a bar dancing with him

“You heard me?” he asks not sure because you didn't react you nod in response and step away so you can turn to face him he pulls you close

He looks deep into your eyes “I'm not lying”

“Okay” you say as you continue to sway to the music

“Last call for drinks last call” the DJ announces

You both step away from each other and look towards the dj booth

When he looks at you again you can't help but blush Rio had a way of communicating with his facial expressions without a word being uttered

“You good?” he asks teasing you

“Yup! Lets go!” you say wanting to get out of the dance floor

“WHOO!” Mia cheers as you two reach her

“That was cute!”

“What you getting into after this?”

“Going home”

He smacks his lips “com’on ma”

“No i think i should go home.”

He nods respecting your decision

“She needs a date with a Denis she’s been grouchy I have a strong feeling you can fix that”

He laughs

“Okay time for me to take you home”

“What?”

“We are gonna go it was nice seeing you”

He pushes a strand out of your face and you take in a sharp breath “make sure you text me telling me you reached safe or ima pull up”

“Okay”

#rio good girls #brio #rio ff #rio good girls fan fic #manny montana #rio x beth #beth x rio #writrblr #fan fic stuff

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hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall · 5 years ago

Text

But it’s snowing

Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Summary: Because the Tower can’t stay unsupervised during Christmas you are forced to stay and miss the family reunion. Byt not everything so bad after all.

Warnings: A bit (really just tiny bit) of angst, fluff.

A/N: And here comes my last (I hope) late challenge. This one is for one and only @justkending. Congratulations on your milestone! <3 You deserved that!

You loved winter. You remember always playing with your parents and brothers whenever it started to snow. You were all wearing tons of sweaters, the warmest gloves and spent hours outside, tossing snow at each other or making snowmen. After hours, when you were literally shaking out of cold, you would come back to the warm house met with your mom waiting for all of yous with hot chocolate and some cookies.

You just finished talking to your parents, apologising them for not coming for Christmas this year. Well… not like bad guys decided to behave, only because you’d like to eat some of that delicious turkey your dad always made.

You sighed and leaned down, shoving your head in your arms, with the solemn idea of all the food you will miss. You loved your job to bits. Catching the bad guys alongside some superhero handsome faces (and beautiful ones as well) was one of the coolest jobs. But at moments like that, you hated your job. You haven’t seen your family for a whole year and you were looking forward to this year’s holidays. You bought all the presents, which were now sitting in the corner of your room, laughing at you.

“You’re ok?” You looked up to meet the concerned look on your Captains face. You frowned and pouted and turned around, your back to him. You knew you were being childish, but he deserved it. He was the one who made you stay here in the Tower, while everyone else except the holy trinity of menace - him, Sam and Bucky - and you stayed in the damn Tower.

“We’re gonna need you. Not even Bucky can shoot like you.” You should feel proud when he said that, but all you felt was disappointment for not being able to spend that time with your family.

“Come one, sweetheart, is this how its gonna be now?” He finally asked, walking into your room and closing the doors. Something you should have done before. You still kept your back to him and huffed, to underline how mad you are at him. “You know if I could I wouldn’t keep you. But you know the rules... We work in four people teams and you work perfectly with us… If someone attacks the Tower we will be able to work perfectly together…” You could hear the pain and sorry in his voice and you were so close to turn around and tell him it was ok. But no… You will be strong! “We were thinking…”

“Oh no…” You mumbled, making him chuckle. It was never good when the three of them were making a plan. It was even worse when they all agreed on something. Bucky and Sam agreeing was not a good sign. Hell no. “Should I be scared?” He smiled, happy for you to finally talk to him.

“We know how much you love Christmas and how much you hate it that you can’t spend it with your family…”

“I wonder whose fault that is!” He sighed and bit his lip, trying not to roll his eyes. He hated when you were acting like a kid. You were definitely spending too much time with Tony and Clint.

“How about we make our special little Christmas?” You turned around, definitely surprised to hear that. “We have already ordered food, so if you agree we can start the preparations tomorrow… I mean if you don’t want to, we…” But he didn’t finish when you jumped and hugged him, smiling like a little girl. It didn’t take Steve long to circle his arm around your waist, pulling you to him. Those parts were his favourite in this friendship between the two of you. You gave the best hugs. “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

“Only if you help me sending those gifts to my family.” He smiled and nodded, happy to see you smile again.

“I think I know how to stir a damn sauce, Wilson!” Bucky growled, already annoyed with Sam’s complaining.

“Well, apparently no… If you stir too fast…”

“Sam, Bucky…” You exhaled, giving them the most disappointed look. “I put you two on different things, for this not to happen. Bucky, you’re doing great. Sam stop being a whiny bitch!” You grinned at him when he sends you one of his evil looks.

“I’m not sure that’s a language suitable for a lady”, Steve whispered at you, helping you to shove vegetables into turkey’s ass.

“Well, good thing I ain’t a lady then, Rogers”, you winked at him and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Ok, close him up and he’s ready for tomorrow!” You exclaimed happily, taking a bite of the carrot from what was left of the turkey’s filling. “We have mashed potatoes, turkey, two extra types of meat, three sauces, a lovely apple pie made by one and only Sam Wilson”, he bowed making you laugh. “Oh and salmon as well.” You jumped excitedly.

Steve couldn’t help but smile warmly at your behaviour. On the field or the training mat you were forceful, merciless, the best sniper he met, and he worked with Bucky a lot. You didn’t blink twice to kill whoever would frighten your friends. And here you were. Acting like a complete kid. It has always been like that. When the mission finished you changed completely. You were this happy talkative, charming and flirting, beautiful woman. Yes. Flirting. He tried not to. But he noticed how your little flirting was a bit more than little with him. Started from talks, smiles and looks, and ended up in touches. He would lie to himself if he said he didn’t like it. He did. Very much indeed.

“Stevie?” Oh, this little nickname you gave him. It was always filled with love. Softness and something he never heard from anyone else before. Oh, how he loved hearing it from you. “Are you back?”

“Back?” He frowned, just now realising that everyone except you and him left the kitchen.

“You went somewhere. In your head, sweety. I called you a couple of times,” You chuckled seeing his confused look. “Never mind. I’m off to bed. We have a long day tomorrow,” you smiled at him and leaned in to give him a kiss on his cheek. “Have a good night, Captain.” You winked knowing quite well what this does to him. You caught him ones inhaling deeply when you called him like that after the mission, and you never forgot about it.

“Goodnight doll.” He sighed, shaking his head in disbelieving. Oh, he was screwed. Very screwed.

There were not many times Steve Grant Rogers was surprised and unable to react quickly enough. There was really not many things that would be able to surprise him. But a woman's body, throwing herself into his bed, jumping like a 5 years old child at 4:35 in the morning was one of those things.

“Jesus, doll!” He grumbled when you tried to wake him up by calling his name and pushing his shoulder. “What happened?” He asked lazily, realizing that nothing bad happened, by the big smile on your lips. “Let me sleep.”

“It’s snowing, Stevie!” He growled and turned towards you in a complete shock.

“You woke me up. On my day off at 4:35 to tell me it’s snowing? Thanks, doll, you can go back to bed. This is what I’m gonna do!” He was about to turn around and close his eyes once again when you caught his hand and started to pull him from the bed.

“But it’s snowing!” You exclaimed visibly annoyed he does not understand. “First snow of the year. Come on!” He took a deep breath and stopped in the middle of the room, making you halt as well. After all, he was a super soldier, way stronger than you would ever be.

“Doll! Just stop for a second and think how stupid this whole situation is…” You looked up at him and he sighed. You were biting your lip nervously. After a while, your gaze landed on the floor and he could no longer feel your warm touch on his wrist. “I hope you didn’t wake no one else…” He yawned and smiled softly at her.

“I’m sorry.” He frowned hearing your broken voice. “I… I really love snow and I wanted to enjoy the first flakes with you... “ His eyes widened at your confession. And he was sure his heart skipped a beat or two. “I… I’m sorry. “ You smiled at him, but he was sure it wasn’t real. Before he was able to react you left the room, closing the doors at his face.

And then it hit him. The memory. From one of the days, you were happily talking to him about your family traditions.

“Watching the first snow together started when I joined SHIELD and didn’t have that much time to spend with my family.” You started cheerfully, smiling at the solemn idea of those times with the people you loved so much. “So we decided that no matter what, no matter where we are, or what we do, we would call each other and look at the snow.” You chuckled. “It’s really personal you know? Snow is something I love deeply and I think that’s why it's so special for me. If I ask someone to join me, this would probably be my kind of confession.” You laughed out loud. “It’s stupid right?”

“Fuck!” He cursed under his voice. Quickly putting some clothes on, a coat, hat, some gloves and a scarf he ran to one place he was sure to find you. The roof. He was such an idiot. How could he screw this up?

“It’s beautiful, right?” he stopped hearing your voice. There you were sitting on the edge of the room, looking at the city. He frowned hearing other voices. It was then he noticed a phone in your hand. “It’s fine. The guys are amazing you know? We are making Christmas dinner tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s adorable, sweety.” Your mother, what he assumed spoke. She had the same soft voice as you did. He could feel the longing for his only girl and he immediately felt bad for making you stay here. “How about Captain Rogers? I thought you’d ask him to join you for the show.” He froze and swallowed. Was he hearing right? Were you planning on asking him to join you for a while?

“It’s fine… Am… He couldn’t.” You lied, not wanting to go into any details. “He’s…”

“A complete idiot!” You jumped hearing a voice behind you, almost dropping the phone. “A complete, utter moron!”

“Is this Captain America?” a what seemed to be a teenage voice called out. “Can I talk to him, sis?”

“I’ll call you all back.” And not waiting for an answer you ended the phone, staring at the man in front of you. “What… What are you doing here?”

“It's snowing.” He smiled, walking towards you. “I’m such a blockhead!” He chuckled and cupped your cheeks with his gloved hands.” You leaned into his touch, so happy to have him here. “I’m sorry, doll!” You shook your head and hugged him, burying your head in his coat.

“I’m happy you came…” You whispered and not thinking about anything you leaned in and kissed him softly. “Look, Stevie, it’s snowing!” He chuckled, and kissed you back, thanking whatever gods there were, that you chose him to show the first snow.

#justkendingwritingchallenge #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #christmas #but its snowing #Bucky Barnes #sam wilson #You #reader #fanfiction #marvel #MCU fanfiction

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ourimpavidheroine · 4 years ago

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What is the most important thing you learned in therapy about parenting? If you're willing to answer.

Oh, I can answer that right away. The most important thing I learned about parenting is this:

Is it about me?

As in, is it personal? Is it a reflection of me? Do I need to address it?

If my child comes to an understanding/makes decisions about their own gender and/or sexuality, is that about me? No. It is not. I do not need to do anything about this except listen, accept it, support it and do what I can to help them navigate as needed.

If my child is disabled and/or mentally ill, and behaves in a way that is not deemed socially acceptable, is that about me? No again. My job as a parent is to do what I can to help and support them, not worry about whether or not other parents think I am a crap mother when my child is covering his ears and screaming in the grocery store or is having a depressive episode and can’t get out of bed.

If my now adult child does not get their ass out of bed to get to school on time, is that about me? Nope. Sometimes the choices we make as adults have consequences and part of adulthood is dealing with those consequences. I do not need to punish and/or discipline my child because dealing with their own consequences is a far better way for them to figure it all out.

If my now adult child turns around and blames ME and is screaming at ME because they are late for school, is that about me? Why yes, that is. So at that point I am going to point out that what they are doing is unacceptable and in fact abusive behavior and I am not going to put up with it just because I am their mother. Being a parent does not mean you need to put up with poor behavior; I expect my kids to apologize and quit doing it when they are being little shits but newsflash! The only way I can expect them to learn how to do that is if I model that behavior for them. I apologize to my kids when I am being a shit as well. (A real apology, not a “if I hurt you” or “I’m sorry but” bullshit apology. A “I apologize for the hurtful thing I did/said. I understand now that it hurts your feelings when I say or do such and such and I won’t do it again.” And yes, you have to do that and mean it even if you think your child is being ridiculous or over-sensitive, because why? It is not about you.)

You get what I am saying? And of course the younger a child is the more guidance and help you have to give them. In our house we had “safety rules” - these were unbreakable rules that were done for safety (putting on seatbelts, for example, or brushing teeth). It might be that we needed to accommodate those unbreakable rules to make them more comfortable (getting a little pad thing so the seatbelt didn’t dig in, finding a toothbrush or toothpaste that they liked) but safety rules were just that: things that had to be done in order to keep them safe. Wearing weather appropriate clothing in Finland was a big safety rule: it gets dangerously cold here in the winter and hats and gloves must be worn. However, if you wear mismatched gloves I do not care, and if your hat of choice is kind of weird and ugly then that goes right under is it about me? and no, it is not.

Sometimes I had to make rules my kids didn’t like. When they were younger they were allowed no screens at all in their bedrooms after 8 pm. (The screens were, in fact, in my bedroom.) This is because they would, of course, stay up all night on them, and being well-rested and eating properly falls under safety rules for school. During the summers, I let them do what they wanted, pretty much. When they turned 16 I told them, you are responsible for your own media consumption and on that same token, I expect you to be responsible for your own consequences if you can’t regulate yourselves. Did we have a rocky start with that? Oh, we did. I knew we would. But I kept my goddamn big mouth shut about it (and oh boy, did I have to bite my tongue a lot but again, was it about me? it was not) and let them figure it out on their own. But that’s how it goes with parenting, sometimes you know that they are going to fuck up their newly-given freedoms but it’s better that they learn when they are still with you and you can step in if needed and help them navigate. You know? It’s supposed to be a balancing act, parenting, not a dictatorship. But I will tell you this: they are both 18 and I do not regulate them any longer. They get up for school and get their homework done and deal with that stuff without me getting involved at all (unless they ask me, like if they need to study and need silence for that). That’s because I let them fail and let them deal with the consequences without any judgement on my part. Let me repeat that last: without any judgement on my part. It doesn’t count as letting them deal with the consequences if you are nagging/berating/yelling at them at the same time.

Also, I cannot turn around and be all butthurt if my kids won’t talk to me if I am not, in fact, listening to them. This is a two-way street. My rule of thumb is to listen carefully and attentively and then, when they are done, ask them if they need my help or if they are just needing me to listen, and we go from there. It is amazing how well that works. Such a simple thing, but I remain shocked at how many parents either don’t listen at all or just assume they need to automatically do something about it. If my kid comes home from school having a shit day, maybe all they need from me is a sympathetic ear and me saying, “That sounds so shitty, I’m so sorry. Do you need a hug? Oh, you need to play Far Cry 4 for a couple of hours so you can just put it all behind you? TV’s all yours, my dude. Try not to get your elephant killed this time. I’m making salmon for dinner, find it in the fridge when you’re ready.”

The ironclad rule in our house is that feelings are always okay; you don’t have to justify or defend them. However, how we choose to deal with those feelings is on us and if we run someone else over with those feelings then we have to be responsible for it. And like I said, I am not exempt from that rule. If anything, as the adult, I need to get it together and follow it myself far more than I can expect the kids to do as they are learning.

#personal #parenting #Anonymous #long post

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jacksmusesdrv3 · 5 years ago

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What are your thoughts on Kokichi saying “好きになった人,” (”suki ni natta hito”) to Shuichi? I personally don't like ousai but that phrase haunts me whenever I try to explain to people why I personally think the ship isn't good for Kokichi. I want to hear your opinion though because it seems like you've noticed some of the things that I have when it comes to his interactions with people (like kokichi being aggressive to shuichi sometimes, kokichi being genuine in his mourning, etc.) Thanks in advance!

Yeah this one is a pain. Though mainly because a lot of people have the idea that this is clear cut, like it proves everything about Ouma’s feelings to Shuichi just by itself. But the key thing that people miss I think, is that just because Ouma is alone, it doesn’t mean he has no reason to lie. Or rather, to mask.

Setting aside ‘what Ouma’s mechanism means’ for now, we know his masking can be due to distress. This is something we can see even in Salmon mode, and he even corroborates it himself in Chapter 5 of the game. And as for this scene, he got super shot-down by someone he was tentatively going to trust; since Ouma was hardly being open, it’s evident that he does not have confidence in Shuichi here. And it’s even revealed later that he considers him ‘tricky’, so the fact that he reached out to him at all says a lot about the bind he was in, I’d say.

Then there’s the tone of the scene itself, which is… unsettling. This would feed back in to the ‘nebulous origin of the mask’ issue, and make you ask why he is behaving in such a way… and what’s more, why the scene is focused on Ouma making a morbid declaration in the first place. People may say, ‘you can’t skip him saying he fell in love with Shuichi’, well to that I say, ‘you can’t skip the implications of him apparently wanting to strangle Shuichi for his attention’. Like, Ouma never tries anything like that, nor gives any indication. It’s weird.

I’d also like to point out that this scene shows no signs of a joking tone - even with Ouma’s facial expression changing to a more serious one - so it’s dubious that a ‘morbid joke’ is the answer. Rather, it’s dubious that that can be so clear of an answer, that no other suggestions can be drawn. Especially when, as noted, Ouma’s mask has ties to a Monokuma-like personality.

Another thing is, just because Ouma said he ‘fell in love with Shuichi’, mask or no, that doesn’t mean much for a relationship. I know this is talking about canon context (which is not ideal for anyone), but with that aside, the very idea that ‘Shuichi did everything he could to reach out to him’ is strange to me, even in Salmon mode. Without going into the litany of reasons I have for why, the go-to counter I see is that ‘he’s not obligated to reach him’… but in a situation where there’s even the slightest possible chance that the group all knew each other in past memories, I beg to differ. Besides, Ouma is bound to his lies and persona, and if Shuichi can’t understand that then there’s nothing really for them.

The long and short of it is: that phrase being said that way is concerning, and suspect. But people should keep in mind that, if there’s even a small indication of Ouma not being himself, then it’s not explicitly from his own heart, and it shouldn’t be treated rigidly to that end. Especially when it’s widely accepted as being ‘half twisted joke’, anyway!

#Anonymous #replies #nonstop debates #Reaping Pride #checkered seer #Hypnotic Despair #ughhh late.....#this one was Suffering #sorry Anon #just needed to take some care. aha #incomplete musings #hope this is somewhat clear #shukichi conundrum #*wait no need for that tag now #I cut down a bunch of this that I rambled out aha #*fixed wording

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creator-zee · 5 years ago

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184

I apologized to my soulmate, wherever they were, as I slammed into the ground. I knew my entire back would be bruised from that. I grit my teeth as I struggled to fill my empty lungs, pushing myself back up into a fighting stance. The dragon continued stalking towards me. Teeth bared, but it had run out of fire hours ago. I dodged another swipe of its claws, rolling underneath it. I dodged the tail swipe, by leaping up and grabbing onto the spikes. The sharp edges, cutting into my hands slightly.

Sorry. I thought again.

I held on though, even as the dragon trashed. I climbed steadily up it’s back, until I was seated on it’s back. Well, seated was a generous word, I was crouched on it’s back, between it’s wings and hovering over the spines on its back. I stayed on though, until he calmed.

He was our newest rescue, a dragon from an abusive farm. He didn’t trust anyone and wouldn’t let anyone near him. The problem was that dragons weren’t like horses. There was no option for slowly building trust. Dragons only trusted though that they could trust to protect them. It was how they worked in society. Dragons would mate, based off fighting. The challenger would have to win to gain the dragon’s trust.

The main problem us humans faced when trying to train them was that we couldn’t fly, didn’t have claws, or sharp teeth, and we weren’t as strong. So, beating them and gaining their trust, so that we could train them was a challenge. We had found that if we used tools to aid us, the dragons didn’t accept it as a fair win.

That’s why despite dragons being common for travel, entertainment, and companions, trainers were far and few between. It also meant I was constantly apologizing to my unknown soulmate for the bruises and injuries I gained each day that they had to share as well.

The dragon, a red spine back, had finally calmed under me. I jumped off his back, landing on the ground next to him. He lowered his head in submission to me. I rubbed his muzzle gentle, some of my blood getting on him. A deep throaty sound escaped his throat, similar to a cat’s purr.

I smiled. The bruises and cuts were always worth it, hopefully my soulmate would understand that someday too.

I turned away from the dragon, I really needed to give him a name, and headed to the stables. He followed me, nudging my shoulder lightly with his head.

I chuckled. “Oh, now look who wants to follow me.”

He just snorted.

I laughed. “Yes, yes, I’ll get you a treat. We reached the stable and I climbed into the loft. Red spine backs, what did they like again. They were carnivores, and particular to fish. Right. I moved to the far end, and opened up a cooler, pulling out a raw salmon.

I heard the sound of flapping wings as he tried to get up into the loft, but it was far to small for a dragon to fit, except the small little terrors.

I held the fish away from him as I climbed down the ladder and he pranced slightly in place, waiting for me to give it to him. I tossed it to him, and he caught it in midair, scarfing it down, whole. I shook my head.

“Come on, you have to head back out to the pasture, I have chores to do.” I told him, I really needed to think of a name. The naming responsibilities had fallen on my shoulders after I took over most of the brunt work for my father when he broke his arm in a rodeo. It wasn’t even dragons, but a plain old horse. I shouldn’t insult horses, they were great too, but they couldn’t fly or breath fire.

He nudged my shoulder again playfully, and I couldn’t help but wonder yet again at the stark difference in dragons once they gained their trust. The bond formed ran deep. That’s partially why I hated my job, having to sell my dragons away to people who hadn’t earned their trust like I had. They would behave, I would make sure of that, but they might not ever truly trust their new owners.

I sighed, as I rubbed his snout, as I opened the gate to the pasture. “I think I’ll call you Slammer. If only, because I’m going to be feeling that slam for a few days, if not weeks.”

He just blinked in response and I smiled. “Go on, run, fly, just don’t go too far.”

That was another challenge with dragons. They had wings, so stopping them from escaping was difficult. That’s why you had to gain their trust first, or get them trained. Otherwise, unless you had a giant bird cage they would just fly away immediately.

Slammer ran away from me, breaking into a gallop before taking off and circling above, stretching his wings.

I smiled up at him, before heading back to the stable. I had training for Tea and Spine and I was giving lessons to a new person this afternoon. I should probably clean the blood and dirt off myself before then.

I lost track of time unfortunately, and while I was rubbing down Spine’s scales, cleaning them of dirt, I heard the rumble of a truck approaching.

“Dammit.” I cursed softly, causing Spine to ruffle his wings nervously. “It’s fine.” I quickly reassured him as I led him outside the stable. I rubbed his shoulder.

“Go home.” I said softly, and he responded to the commanded, taking off and flying towards the paddock.

I wiped my hands off on my pants but it didn’t make much difference since they were just as dirty.

“Sorry.” I apologized to the woman currently walking up my driveway, “It’s been a busy day, I haven’t had a chance to get cleaned up since training. Z, by the way.”

She just smiled. “Gwyn, and I don’t mind. It is a farm. I didn’t expect for everything to be pristine.”

I laughed. “Good. Now, come on, let’s find you a dragon to ride. What experience do you have?”

I had my suspicions, Justine from the clean state of her clothes, but I’d let her confirm them or prove me wrong.

“I rode as a kid, but dropped it in high school in a failed attempt to fit in. So I’d say ‘so rusty that I’m practically a beginner.’”

I nodded. “Got it. I know just who you can ride, Ripper.”

“R-ripper?” She repeated, terrified.

I laughed. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist. She’s actually a very sweet common ridgeback. She earned that name after ripping my favorite shirt when I was gaining her trust.”

“Ohhh.” She muttered.

“Come on, let’s go get her, she’s out in the fields, so just stay close to me. I have some newbies in the field, and I don’t know how they’d react to a stranger if you got too far from me.” I warned her.

She nodded, stepping closer to me.

I saw Ripper soaring high in the distance.

“Cover your ears.�� I warned Gwyn, before I called for Ripper, a loud shrieking call, that mimicked a ridgeback’s call. Ripper responded in kind, before circling back and landing a little ways away from us and walking up to us, lowering her head. I rubbed it gently, before grabbing Gwyn’s hand and urging her to do the same.

“Woah...” She muttered quietly. “It’s been so long. Also, damn that was an impressive call.”

I removed my hand from hers, smiling softly, but that smile faded when I realized I had left blood on the back of her hand.

”Ah, crap, sorry.” I apologized quickly. “I haven't bandaged my hands since I dealt with Slammer this morning.”

She looked at me slightly concerned, wiping her hand off on her shirt. “Slammer?”

”A red spine back.” I explained, as I led Ripper to the stables to be tacked up. “He’s a new rescue. His spines cut my hands.”

“A the name? Is he a jail bird?” She asked, and I chuckled at her joke.

“No, he didn’t go in the slammer. He slammed be in the ground. Left my back completely riddled with bruises.”

She froze mid step. Her face was shocked, but otherwise unreadable.

“Your entire back...?” She muttered.

“Uh, yeah.” I shrugged. “Don’t worry it happens all the time, jsut one of the risks of being a trainer.”

“No, I know.” She muttered. “That just means...” She trailed off and showed me her own palms in explanation. They had bruises right where mine were cut.

“Ohhhhh....” I muttered, knowing what she was getting at. “You’re my... I’m your....”

She nodded. “Soulmate, we’re soulmates.”

“I - I don’t, this is, I don’t know what to say. This is so unexpected.” I stammered, caught completely off guard. Ripper sensed my anxiety and gently butted her head against my shoulder. I rubbed it welcomingly.

“Well... I’m relieved that the reason I’m always covered in bruises is not because you are abused or something.” She admitted.

I chuckled slightly at that. “I swear some of these guys do abuse me.”

“Do you run this whole place by yourself?” She asked, surprised.

I shook my head. “My dad does the paperwork stuff, you probably talked to him on the phone. But I do all the manual labor, since he broke his arms, it’s never been the same since. Dragons can be pretty easy to handle after you gain their trust -“ I rubbed Ripper’s snout affectionately “- but, it’s the gaining their trust that’s hard. You have to be in top shape for that.”

She murmured, nodding. “I can see that.”

“What?” I asked, head snapping to face her.

A blush spread on her face, and I was sure my own wasn’t much better.

“It’s just - you’re...” She gestured oddly to me. “Um, fit.” She settled on, before pointedly looking away from me.

“Thanks?” I muttered, unsure. “Let’s just focus on this lesson, okay? We can talk after, maybe after I’ve had a shower.”

She nodded. “Yes, okay. So, what’s first?”

I settled into teacher mode, an easy mold, one that I didn’t have to worry about. Nothing was off, until after the lesson ended.

I had decided to let Gwyn ride Ripper around on her down, to cool her down, while I checked on the dragons, farther out in the fields. I needed to make sure that they still had water and give them their food.

It was all going well until Tide, one of my few amphibian dragons, decided to play in the water... while I was filling it. I ended up completely soaked. I sighed, as I stared at the goofy face of the dragon, her frills around her face raised in excitement. I couldn’t be made at that face. I smiled and rubbed her snout.

“Tide, go soak someone else.” I chastised, but with no malice in my tone. “Maybe someone with scales that won’t get soaked to the bone.”

She chattered, flapping her wings a few times, spraying me yet again with more water before taking off. I shook my head, as I trudged back up to the barn, Gwyn and Ripper catching me by surprise. I had forgotten about them because of Tide’s distraction.

“What happened to you?” Gwyn asked, slightly horrified.

“Tide happened.” I muttered. “She’s an amphibious dragon, and likes to play in the water. It was my misfortune to try and fill it when she was in a playful mood.”

Gwyn slid slightly awkwardly off Rippers back. I noticed she had a slight blush on her cheeks, and I didn’t realize why, until I remembered I was wearing a white shirt, dammit Tide.

“Sorry...” I apologized. “I can change...?” I offered.

“I’d - um - I’d like that.” She muttered.

“Think you can untack her?” I asked, as I climbed up into the loft.

Gwyn shook her head. “No.”

“No worries.” I called back down. “I should have some spare clothes stashed up here, I can be down in a sec to help you.”

“Okay.” Gwyn called back up.

I rummaged around in the loft in a bin, managing to only find a spare bra and tank top. Hopefully, that was at least a little better.

I climbed back down the loft, and by Gwyn’s beet red face and small gasp. It wasn’t better. A small part of me was happy, but most was just apologetic for making my soulmate so flustered.

“Sorry.” I apologized, again. “Let me just get this off, and then I can grab more clothes from inside.”

“No need to hurry.” Gwyn muttered, and I turned to her surprised.

“What was that?” I asked, confused.

“Uh, nothing.” She stammered.

I ignored it, quickly taking Ripper’s saddle and bridle off, and hanging them in the take room, before giving her the simple command, go home. She left after nuzzling me one more time.

“I think we are due for a conversation.” I said, as I led Gwyn back up towards the house.

“Uh, yeah.” She agreed. “What do you want this to mean?” She asked, gesturing broadly between us.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe we can just continue meeting up and see where it goes?”

She nodded, smiling. “That sounds good. Besides I do want more lessons.”

“Of course.” I answered, slightly flushed myself. “Here, let me give you my number. I can’t promise I’ll be responsive though. I tend to leave my phone in the safety of the indoors so it doesn’t get smashed or waterlogged.”

Gwyn nodded. “Understandable.”

“Let me just run inside real quick to grab it.” I told her before sucking inside my house to grab my phone off the table in the entryway. I had several missed texts from a friend.

I ignored them for now and opened up my contacts, offering it to Gwyn. She quickly put her number in. I sent her a quick text, hi, so that she would have mine.

“Just text me for your next lesson.” I said.

She nodded. “I will, see you later Z.”

I waved goodbye as she pulled out in her truck.

#soulmates #injuries on one show up as bruises on the other #dragons #water misshaps #writing #not edited

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goddessofthundathighs · 6 years ago

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IV. ATTITUDE

Mad was an understatement. Pissed off? Infuriated? Embittered? Those were close seconds. On one hand, she had the incredibly handsome, incredibly irritating Dr. Stevens who was quickly becoming the bane of her existence with his smart ass mouth and uneffective therapy, and on the other hand, she had the equally attractive and equally infuriating Dr. Skylar Greene who seemed to be taunting her for her own enjoyment. Whatever the case was, O’Shea wasn’t feeling it and she was headed down to her favorite restaurant, Barton G, to give them both a piece of her mind. She arrived, clad in a black Fashion Nova jumpsuit, her natural hair slicked back in a long purple Thotiana ponytail, and some black and white Air Max. Today was supposed to be her chill day, but both doctors had her 50 shades of fucked up and they were about to know about it.

“About time you joined us,” Sky complained as O’Shea slid into the booth beside her. It was her lunch time and everyone knew how cranky she could get when she was hungry.

“Last time I checked, y’all were on my goddamn time and I’ll take as long as I damn well please,” Shea countered, throwing her ponytail over her shoulder.

“Yo, who the fuck you talking to?” the best friends asked in unison, a gesture that had Shea’s thighs clenching. She was used to seeing “Evil Erik” as she had started calling him, but Sky? There wasn’t a mean streak in her body, or so she thought.

“Okay Bopsey Twins, y'all ought to take this act on the road.. Answering in unison and shit,” O'Shea quipped still caught off guard by Sky's outburst. She had to say something to quell the sudden rise of whiney, bratty lust.

“You better chill with that attitude, Shea,” Sky threatened.

“Or what? We all grown. What, Mrs. Doctor Nigga?” Sky chuckled, beckoning the waitress over. She ordered double Hennessy and apple juices for her and Erik and ice water for O’Shea, in a child’s cup to be an ass.

“Why y’all get liquor and I don’t?”

“Cuz you acting like a child so enjoy a child’s drink,” Sky quipped, causing Erik to chuckle. “Learn how to watch your mouth.”

“I just think it’s funny how you referred me to this nigga, who just so happens to be your best friend, to fix my issue yet all he’s done is patronize me. It’s like y’all get a kick out of seeing me like this.”

“Girl shut yo emotional ass up. You’re a spoiled little sugar baby that’s used getting what you want when you want it and when someone deviates from that script, you wanna play victim and harp on and on about how you’re being misused and no one cares about your needs and blah blah blah.” Well damn, Dr. Nigga. Tell a bitch how you really feel.

“Nah, don't feed the troll, Erik. Let her do what she does. She'll learn. Sooner than later,” Sky spoke with a swirl of her glass.

“With all due disrespect, I'm a say this,” Erik continued stealing the floor in another rant.

“You hard-headed as fuck, disrespectful, and frankly, if it were left up to me you wouldn’t bust another nut for the rest of your bratty ass life. You had one job and you couldn’t even do that.”

“Sky told me to do it!”

“Bitch don’t lie on me. I said he wouldn’t know you used it if you didn’t turn it on. I didn’t put a gun to your head and forced you to masturbate.”

“I'm honestly feeling attacked right now and that's a problem for me because it's strictly emotional yet no hands are on my body. I take issue with this,” O'Shea said coolly eyeing the duo.

“And I take issue with women that ask me and my friend for advice, yet do the total opposite of what I tell them, so it looks like we both have some issues Ms. Powell,” Erik states, returning her stare.

“I can’t win with you two.”

“You can if you shut the fuck up and listen for once,” Sky said taking a bite of her salmon caesar salad made with kale instead of romaine.

O'Shea gasped, clutching her chest. Looking to the side, she scooted closer to Erik, placing her hand in his lap.

“Whatchu tryna do, lil girl?” he challenged, looking around at the crowded restaurant. O’Shea remained silent, letting her hand continued its quest until she reached the zipper of his slacks.

“Ah, ah, ah. This dick is for well-behaved little girls, and you don’t fit that criteria at the moment Ms. Powell. However, I think Ms. Greene has something for you.” As if on cue, Sky “dropped her napkin” and crawled under the table using her long green stiletto nails to rip the seat of O’Shea’s jumpsuit.

“Make one sound and she’s stopping, understood?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Good girl. Eat your food and shut up.” He continued his meal as if she wasn’t being fingered like a kindergarten painting and she reached to the bread bowl to grab a roll, jamming it into her mouth like a gag. Ripping it with her teeth, her hand floated beneath the table to grab her coworker's hair, intent on taking as much of the good doctor's tongue as she wished to dish.

“Mmm, this kale shit is good Sky, but not as good as this lobster mac and cheese tho. These truffles hitting,” Erik praised with a mouth full of half-chewed food. Sky hummed her agreeance into O’Shea’s core, using her tongue like a makeshift dick, thrusting it in and out of her entrance. O'Shea wrapped her thighs around Sky's head pulling her in further as her eyes watched her surroundings. She wanted so badly to talk her shit, but she didn't want it to stop. She had received head before, but nothing compared to this experience. This wasn't your typical head, this was researched and tested head. Head that had been proven superior by 10 out of 10 test subjects. Skylar was a professional lesbian and if head was a sport, she’d be an Olympic gold medalist, having been eating pudding cups without a spoon since the 90’s. The sheer thought that the waitress could come back or other patrons could notice made her wetter than by the second and the hard stare Erik was giving wasn’t helping. He was enjoying the show, nasty ass.

“That shit feel good, don’t it?” Erik teased, those gold canines peeking from behind that thick ass bottom lip. Shea wanted to suck it.

“Who's better,” Shea challenged. If she couldn't get Erik to fuck her point blank period, maybe he could be lured through his ego. It worked, because as soon as the waitress walked away to fetch her an extra side of sour cream for her mashed potatoes, his body disappeared under the table and soon both of their tongues were fighting to wrap around her clit. She was in heaven, so much so that the faintest of moans slipped past her lips. It was meek, but he heard it and just as quickly as her double pleasure started, it stopped. One by one, both doctors reappeared from under the table as though they both weren't just devouring her pussy like starved slaves.

“She came twice for me, so I win,” Sky boasted.

“You had a head start, Princess,” Erik said, wiggling the face caterpillars he called eyebrows.

“You sound like a sore loser, Stevens. Don't forget who taught you the correct way to eat pussy.. Doctor.” Sky smirked smugly. O'Shea was still in a state of bliss having finally received her ever elusive release.

“Now that you’ve learned your lesson about trying me, we can continue this meeting. Erik has a conference coming up and he has a plus one. He wanted to ask you to be his date.”

“Of course,” O’Shea answered with no hesitation.

“Well shit, if that’s all it took to get you to chill, I would’ve let ya mind be present in my office the other day,” Erik said finishing off the lobster mac and cheese and ordering another helping togo.

O’Shea didn’t comment, her mind still stuck in the Ancestral Plane.

“How about we go shopping after lunch. Would you like that, Princess?” Sky teased, whipping out her card to pay for lunch. Erik quickly picked it back up and deposited it back into her Birkin before handing the waitress his black card.

“I ain't sell my soul for nothing. Let me get this,” he joked.

“Yes Mama,” Shea replied to Sky, catching them both off guard.

“Damn best friend. Maybe you should eat her pussy more often. She’d be much more tolerable.”

——————————————

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