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anyoneseenadam · 3 years

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The Moon Spirit - two

Dorian x reader, Fenrys x reader (throne of glass)

Description: When you’re taught to be a queen from such a young age, nothing could go wrong. But when the king starts to fear your growing power you find yourself thrust into a world of faeries, evil magic and powerful men, learning to stand on your own can be harder than it seems.

warnings: blood, graphic descriptions of violence, objectification, gross old men, Dorian is a ball of love and niceness however, angst, fluff, possibly smut in later chapters

word count: 2.9k

a/n: oof the plans i have for this series omg!! i hope you like this pls comment and tell me what u think and also feel free to give any ideas/ theories i love getting that sm!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

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Finding a place to get a drink was easier said than done.

You had ridden along the cold, barren road for hours – your only company being the birds singing above you, the horse moving below you and the small bundle of content wrapped in your arms who had fallen asleep in your arms in seconds, occasionally yawning widely. And through those hours you had met no one and seen no place to stop.

You eventually had to stop, exhaustion slowing you down. You moved off course and tied your horse to a tree next to a small stream, running a comforting hand through its mane as it drank slowly. You slowly stripped off as well, taking your time as you removed the blood-soaked layers from your skin. Once you were bare, shivering in the cool morning air, you stepped slowly into the stream – swearing enough to make a sailor blush.

However, you relented, running your hands over your skin, wiping away the guards’ blood with a heavy heart as the water turned pink. Your whole body ached, yet you were numb. Men were dead because of you, and - if he hadn’t already – Dorian would hear of your disappearance soon. And then the king would pick him a new bride, and you would be forgotten.

Just as intended.

Amaris was mewling behind you, hungry and cold, wondering why you had left. Or maybe that was just you, maybe you were projecting. You climbed out of the water, pulling your undergarments back on as you found a sunny patch to sit in, allowing the newly risen sun to cleanse away the remnants of the night, drying your skin slowly.

After half an hour of silent tears you picked yourself back up, pulling on your stiff clothes and climbing onto your horse as you set off again. You couldn’t just lie down and die, no matter how much you wanted to, you had to look after your last gift from Dorian, and you had look after yourself.

You ended up riding for hours more before you wandered into a small town. Dismounting, you led your horse through the town as you searched for a place to get food and maybe clean clothes, glaring down your nose at anyone who stared to long. Much like Dorian used to.

No. You tried to expel the thought of him from your head, not needing to be swept up in the thought of his forget-me-not eyes, nor did you need to remember that you may never get to look into them again.

What you needed was the tavern you could see at the end of the street.

You pushed through the street, ignoring the townspeople as you moved to the stables beside the tavern, giving your horse rest, food, and water. You hid Amaris in your coat as you moved into the tavern – back straight and head high as you walked.

The bar quietened down when you moved in, a small sprout woman pausing handing out drinks as she stared at you over a high skew nose. The bar smelt of sour whisky and piss, the surfaces barely visible beneath the dirt that covered every surface – the only source of light coming from tall candles that had been stuffed into wine bottles. The curtains over the windows were drawn tight, not allowing any other light in and the people in the bar all looked remarkably similar, tired. The woman behind the bar was petite, with a face alike a weasel and when she spoke you discovered her voice was just as shrill as you expected.

“And who do you think you are?” she moved in front of the bar, walking towards you as you levelled your gaze.

“I’m no one.” You replied, the answer vague enough that she hopefully wouldn’t try again.

“Then what do you want?” she was exasperated as she spoke, and you allowed yourself a moment of reprise as you glanced down at your clothes.

“A drink would be nice,” your voice was curt, tired. The small lady rolled her eyes, moving away as you approached the bar, allowing her to pour you a glass of cheap, hard liquor.

She slid it towards you, and you knocked it back quickly. “Do you also have fresh clothes and maybe some food for me and my cat?”

As she left with an eye roll, a man approached you, his hairline receding and breath fowl as he slung an arm around your shoulder, leaning far too close for your comfort as you trained your eyes forward.

“I can offer you a job,” he nodded his head and you looked over to see his eyes trained on the prostitutes in the corner, “I’ll even offer a free trial. To get you started.”

You felt panic rise like bile in your throat, your entire body tensing as you shoved this man’s arm of your shoulder. You calmed your face – unwilling to let any emotion show as you faced him.

“You couldn’t afford me,” you snarled, pushing down the heat growing in you as the curious eyes of the towns’ folk were once again turned on you.

“You bitch!” the man began shouting but was cut off by the shrill woman’s return. She unceremoniously dumped a pile of clothes in your lap, along with a small loaf and some fish, her gaze expectant.

You loosened the bracelet around your wrist, dropping it into her hand as she stared at the large jewels adorning it.

“That should cover it.” you muttered as you stood, keeping your gaze angry and forward as you shouldered past the burly man. You bundled the clothing and food in one hand, the other still holding Amaris tight to your chest as you left the dirty tavern.

You found your horse again, offloading the goods you had received into the worn satchels on its side – leading it out of the barn slowly, desperate to get out of this town.

Dorian was a mess.

He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, could barely speak anymore. It was enough to lose you, but to then realise that his own father had driven you away. His own father had made you feel so unsafe in your own home that you couldn’t even run to him, his father had made you feel so completely isolated that your only choice was to flee.

Chaol was trying to coax him back into civilised life, his brother mourning the loss of his friend, yet itching to find you. And level-headed as always, Chaol knew that wouldn’t happen with Dorian spending his days drinking or in bed – often both.

But Dorian didn’t know how to cope, he didn’t know how to plaster on a smile and pretend everything was okay. That was your specialty.

Almost a month had passed, and you certainly were nowhere to be seen. You weren’t coming home anytime soon and he was going to have to learn how to live without you eventually.

Every morning he woke up, a part of him hoped it was a bad dream, that you would be asleep in his arms, or giggling and pressing dizzying kisses into his jaw. He hoped one day he would just wake up and you would wrap your arms tight around his shoulders, tell him it was just a nightmare and stroke his hair until he fell back asleep.

But he knew that couldn’t happen, that life wasn’t kind enough to return his bride to him and so instead he chose to numb his thoughts. He ignored the flirty eyes of other woman, unable to look at them in their expensive dresses and jewels without his mind returning to you.

Everyday that passed without you hurt that much more, so when he sat on his throne as Chaol approached him with a beautiful but deadly woman, he decided since he couldn’t have his perfect woman, he must find her opposite. He couldn’t be who he was before – so he must become someone new.

You weren’t faring much better. The day you had left the bar, you had ridden all the way to the coast of Terrasan and had climbed onto the first boat to Doranelle. By the time you arrived in the city you had just about sold anything of value on your person and all you had left to sell was the poor horse you had taken away.

By the time it was just you and Amaris, you had acquired a small flat in the city – the walls were bare and there was only simple furniture in it, the mattress on the floor next to large windows, and worn cushions on a makeshift sofa next to a wooden table.

Every night Amaris crawled into bed next to you, licking away salty tears from your face as you pulled the thin, scratchy sheet closer over you – hoping to replicate even a shred of Dorian’s warmth, or the feeling of his arms wrapped secure around your waist. Most nights you didn’t sleep, the bags growing under your eyes as your heart slowly numbed. Amaris would bury himself in the warmth of your chest as your eyes blurred, watching the city move outside of your flat – the noise subdued and calming.

On the third day in the new city you set out to find work, desperate to find something that could numb the thoughts in your mind and make the days easier. Plus you were sick of grabbing the easiest food you could find. You found yourself walking to a library, deciding it would be the perfect mixture of solitude and work for you. And it helped that you had spent most your life reading, many nights curled under Dorians arms as you read your separate books – occasionally reciting a line to the other.

The old man at the front of the library was kind, his face wrinkled from easy smiles, and you could understand why his long, long life seemed so pleasing. The bookshelves were tall, dizzyingly tall, and filled with countless books that you wished you could search through for hours. There were also tall, stained windows lining the walls, letting in the beautiful morning light and showing how the dust danced around the room.

“So what brings you here?” he asked, moving around the desk he sat at and motioning for you to take a seat on the small, cushioned seats next to him.

You sat down gently, back straight but keeping your eyes trained on your neatly folded hands. “I need work, sir. I have very good qualifications and have been educated by the best.”

He laughed slightly at that, “That much is clear, my child. But I asked what brings you here? What is your story?”

You looked up to meet his eyes, unable to stop the pain that they revealed, and he took your hands gently in his warm ones, “The world has treated you poorly I see.”

You felt tears build in your eyes – this kindness so alien to your battered heart you couldn’t help yourself as you let out a soft sob. The man smiled kindly at you, squeezing your hands gently as he urged you to talk to him.

“I was f-forced to leave the man I loved,” you choked out, “his father tried to… hurt me.” Your explanation was an over-simplification, but you feared what may occur if you revealed the truth.

“Was he your mate?” the man asked kindly, and you shook your head.

“I am not Fae,” you explained, and he frowned, passing you his handkerchief as he stood.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, retrieving a small, hand-held mirror, and handing it to you. You took it with a confused expression before looking in, gasping under your breath as you saw your ears had taken on a delicate point.

“I, I don’t- that’s not possible.” You shook your head, eyes wide as they met his.

“Where do you come from child?” he voice was gentle as he took in your shock.

“Adarlan.” You whispered and he smiled sympathetically.

“Then I believe a glamour has been removed recently.” You could feel yourself shaking, the weight of the knowledge hitting you. “Let me take a name dear, you can start work tomorrow, we’ve been needing some extra hands around here.”

“(y/n) (y/l/n)” your voice was small as you stood, shaking his hand lightly. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem and remember when you work you can have a read through any book you like. Aisle sixteen contains many on the ancient spirits.” He looked down to your necklace pointedly and you bit your tongue so hard you tasted blood, desperate to not reveal any more than you already had.

“Thank you…” you trailed off and he smiled,

“Albert,” he finished for you. “And make sure to take care on your way home, this city is filled with powerful people, you would be smart to not mix with them.”

You nodded, pocketing the information in your mind, ready to add it to your list of rules.

Fenrys was tired. He had just gotten home from a month-long mission and all he wanted was to sleep, however he wasn’t quite ready to face Maeve yet and instead he decided to take a trip to his favourite library before she realised he was back.

He was walking in when he saw you, your eyes red but hopeful and he almost fell over at the sight of you. You were wearing common clothes but held yourself like royalty, head high and gaze ready to tear down a man who so much as looked at you wrong.

What he did next he wasn’t exactly proud of, but he needed an excuse, so he was willing to play his hand a bit. “Excuse me miss, do you happen to know where I could find the tilted goose?” your eyes widened when you saw him, fuelling his ego slightly.

He knew where the tilted goose was of course, it was one of his favourite bars, but you didn’t have to know that.

“Oh yeah, it’s just down this way. I’m walking that way I’ll show you,” your voice was like music to his ears, and he smiled, revelling in how you avoided his gaze, clearly intimidated by his stature.

“Thank you so much…?” he asked, and you smiled, softly, subdued.

“(y/n),” you stared walking in the correct direction, and he grinned.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful lady. Fenrys.” He placed a hand to his chest as you laughed lightly.

“Quite a flirt aren’t you?” you asked, eyes sparkling.

“Can’t help myself, I’m not sure I’ve ever met such a beautiful woman.” He looked down to you as he fell into step beside you, noticing that you were taking a much longer way than needed. “You new here?”

“How’d you tell?” your tone was self-deprecating, and he laughed.

“This way takes about five minutes longer.” He stated and you whirled around, pointing a finger accusingly.

“You know how to get there.” He felt his face heat up as he raised his hands sheepishly.

“Maybe…” he grinned, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you began to storm off.

“See you around princess!” he called after you, almost missing the way your shoulders stiffened momentarily before you called over your shoulder.

“You’d be so lucky!” you replied, pace quickening as he watched you climb a set of stars that led to some run-down apartments.

He laughed, the smiled on his face coming naturally and surprising him. Oh his life was about to get much better.

You shouldn’t have enjoyed the pretty man’s company. And you hated yourself for it.

But he was so kind and for five minutes he made you feel normal again, loved again. See you around princess! The words wouldn’t stop replaying in you head. You weren’t allowed to be a normal girl; you were a princess, and you were on the run, and you definitely had no time for handsome men who flirted with you.

You couldn’t betray Dorian like that, he was probably waiting for you to come home. And you planned to. You would build your strength and you would learn to fight, and you would tear the king to shreds.

But for now, you had to settle for getting through each day, and that meant you had no time for handsome distractions. As you steeled your nerves you felt the loneliness settle on your shoulders, wrapping around you like a shadow, and you fought to reach deep inside yourself, finding the sliver of magic that was curled up – dormant – inside of you.

You found it and fought to awaken it, only receiving a shard of the true power. You stood in front of the dirty mirror in your bathroom, taking in your newly pointed ears and watching as your necklace glowed gently, your eyes turning silver as you released a small amount magic, watching as the bright light shattered the mirror in front of you.

Your eyes widened at the loud noise and with a flinch the magic was gone, the only proof it was even there was the shattered mirror in front of you.

You stared back at the cracked reflection and squared your shoulders. You were going to train, you were going to fight, and you were going to win. Even if it broke you.

#throne of glass #dorian havilliard #dorian x reader #dorian havilliard x reader #fenrys x reader #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys moonbeam x reader

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imthepunchlord · 3 years

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Beewitched Ch 4 (Final)

Three

The crisp Parisian night air was preferred over the brightness of Paris' sunny day. Still lingering in Paris before going back London, Felix took the chance to wander on the roof of a building, see and compare Paris' cityscape to London's.

It was the first time in about two months that he's been on a roof. Since the last time he had seen that fairy. Standing here, he wandered about her, if she was able to defy that prince and handle the witch. He supposes he'll never know. As she had said, that was her last appearance. He had kept an eye on the news, to see if she ever reappeared elsewhere, but she never did.

She had been the only thing of magic he got to discover. He had kept his eyes open for any other oddities, but nothing. Paris was the only other city to have magical activity with the curious Ladybug and Chat Noir.

"Most civilians don't come to hang out on roofs."

Felix had a start, having a strong sense of deja vu. He quickly turned, wondering if she found him again, that he'd see those blue eyes once more.

Blue eyes did peer down at him, but they were set against red than the black and yellow. He tensed a little. He hadn't expected Ladybug to be a good sneak. And he could still feel a ghost pain at the punch she had delivered that afternoon.

Ladybug eyed him carefully, able to tell that he was Adrien’s doppelganger. She hadn't made a move yet, and neither has he. Cautiously, he asked, "Are you going to take me down? To the streets?"

She considered him for a moment before she answered. "If you're ready to go back down."

"No."

She shrugged and plopped down on the chimney, releasing a heavy breath, like she was releasing all the exhaustion she felt. It was… very familiar. Felix sat down as well, facing the cityscape. While his body sat still, his mind was moving quickly. What were the chances?

Coming here, he got to learn of miraculouses. And that there was multiple, and among them was a bee. The probability to him was high that Ladybug came to London for a break. That she was the fairy that saved a garden from getting demolished.

And he had tried to use her.

He turned to her, drawing her eyes back down to him. "I'm sorry," he murmured, "for trying to use you to tarnish my cousin's name."

She blinked at him, a spark going off in her bright eyes. She dropped down, crouching to his level. He caught the familiar smell as before, though the floral smell had lightened. With a tilt of her head, she asked, "You're Adrien’s cousin?"

The soft tone of her question was familiar. He thought back to the video he intercepted from Adrien, of the last video of it, of the soft spoken girl confessing her love, her blue eyes warm with love. Out of all videos, that one had filled him with the strongest sense of longing. And looking at Ladybug now, he could see the girl before him; everything strikingly similar. What were even the chances that the girl that had confessed was before him right now?

And that Adrien was the "prince" she referred to. To think he was allowing a "witch" to exhaust her filled him with a flare of aggravation.

A confused curiosity replaced it. Why did he care? Why was he even bothered?

He thought back to that second encounter, when she had the bee instead. How tired she looked, and how heavy her thoughts were that she’d share her woes with a random stronger on a roof.

He released a breath, opting to not answer her as he turned to face the cityscape. He could see her pout out of the corner of his eye, but she didn’t push. She sat down beside him, joining him in staring out at Paris.

“Was your vacation to London enough?” he wondered, watching the surprise flicker across her face before she relaxed.

Chuckling, she said, “No. But, a break was a break, at least.”

“And the witch?”

“Still around,” she whispered.

He liked to ask how one of the brightest minds of Paris was being foiled by this “witch”, but Felix held his tongue. He didn’t know the situation, nor was he exactly in a place to comfortably put a girl with powers on the spot.

“Are you going back to London soon?” she asked.

“Excited to have me leave your city?”

“No,” she admitted, her tone passive and even. “I’m more curious and concerned about what went on this afternoon.” She spared him an inquisitive glance. “But I won’t ask if you don’t want to talk about it.”

A relaxing quiet settled between them, enjoying the glow of the city, the sounds of it becoming white noise to them. Felix spared Ladybug a glance, seeing her eyes were closed, soaking in what he suspects to be a rare moment of peace. He settled into it, enjoying the moment with her. But after a full minute passed, he spoke up, breaking the silence.

“Adrien has long since… irked me.”

He felt Ladybug’s eyes on him. Keeping his gaze on the lights before him, he continued, “His naivete. His spinelessness. His inability to grasp the reality of things.” Out of the corner of his eye, could see her move to protest, only for her to stop and sag. He wondered how his cousin disappointed her but didn’t ask.

“He’s made it difficult. Do you have any idea how many have approached me in the name of friendship, all to see him. Always him.” Felix cut himself off then. He said enough. There was no more to share. He might’ve already said more than he would have preferred.

He frowned, wondering how it was easy to roll things out to her. Was it the miraculous she wore? But she had done the same with him. Or perhaps that was just the sort of person she was, willing to share her woes with any who would listen. And he felt compelled to return the whim.

When he got no immediate response from her, he glanced her way, seeing her looking pensive beside him. With pity in her eyes. With more bite than he meant, he said, “I don’t need you pity, Ladybug.”

She winced, though her features smoothed out soon. She turned and offered him a smile. “How about friendship, then?”

He raised a brow at her. “Really? After I tried to steal a kiss from you?”

“Chat invades my personal space all the time, whether I want it or not,” she rolled out, sounding tired of the norm. Felix though raised a high brow. He wondered why Chat hasn’t gotten punched yet. “But, aside from trying to ruin your cousin’s reputation, you don’t seem like the sort to do that regularly.”

“Physical affection is reserved for those I genuinely like,” he told her. He was irked enough to be physical this afternoon, and he told her so.

“I suppose then I can give you a chance,” Ladybug said. She stood up, and for a second, Felix felt like it was just like that night she found him. As Ladybug, she hadn’t that same flare or mystery as she had when she had the bee. But there was still something… ethereal about her. The glow of the light in her eyes. The calm and warm feeling she gave, by being near her. Maybe it was all her miraculous, maybe that’s why he felt safe near her. Like it was all ok.

When she held out a glove to him, just like before, he easily slid his hand into hers. She pulled him to his feel, turning her gaze up to him. He peered back, feeling a little uncertain as he murmured, “I would like that.”

She beamed and Felix has to turn away, feeling a slight heat as his cheeks. She voiced, “Now, is there anywhere I can take you? Or are you staying in Paris for a while?”

He pointed. “I’m at that hotel. Mum and I are taking the train this coming morning.”

“If you’re ok with it, I’ll get you there in a few seconds.”

He nodded. Yes, he could deal with a few seconds of touch. Like before, her arm came around him, and Felix could note how natural it felt, relieving the familiarity of before, as she threw her yo-yo forth. They dropped from the roof, rushing through the air as Ladybug expertly got him to the hotel they were currently. They dropped with ease, and Ladybug left with a promise that she’ll there if he needs her.

Watching her go, Felix slid his hands into his pockets, having a start when he felt paper there. He knows that wasn’t there before. When had she…

He brought it out, reading over the lovely writing before him.

‘I can’t promise to always be available. But I will always talk to you as soon as I’m able.’

‘— LB’

Underneath the writing was a number. Her number. He thought back to the girl he saw in the videos, her similarity with Ladybug. Was this her number, assuming they were one and the same?

Either way, he felt delighted and warm, and with great care, he folded the treasure in his hands, conscious of the consequences of being careless with it. Pocketing it, he headed inside, wondering what his future will hold with this friendship. He smiled slightly, realizing he was now leaving Paris with two treasures.

One taken from his good for nothing uncle.

And one freely given by a greatly adored hero.

In his room, he swiftly added the number to his phone, the first that a friend’s number, dubbing her Lady B. He took care to rip up the letter she left, securing that no one would be able to recognize the numbers on it. Those were gifted to him and him alone.

His gift from the fairy.

#miraculous ladybug #Felinette #Beewitched #kwami swap #marinette dupain cheng #felix graham de vanily #bee!Marinette

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btsslowburnfic · 3 years

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Series Summary: For Namjoon, the moment he set his sights on being the #1 rapper, he pushed the symbol to the side and hated it. Love should be chosen, not forced on you. He didn’t believe in fate and this mark on his wrist was a big “fuck you” to all that.

AN: a loooong update where we get YN to Korea Previous Chapter here

The three of you made it safe and sound to your new brownstone across the river in New Jersey. Joe has a job lined up, but at the moment you and Xavier are unemployed. On this particular day, you are in your room job hunting when you hear a knock on your bedroom door and then see Xavier gently push it open. “Fly your ass to Korea. Now. Here,” Xavier throws a book at you. “I bought you a Korean dictionary.”

You roll your eyes. “Namjoon speaks English. And I can’t read the characters or whatever so how will a dictionary help. And, I’m not going to Korea.”

Xavier crosses his arms in front of his body. “Girl. You are still in your twenties. You have no job. There is a hot man who is also your soulmate across the ocean. GO TO KOREA.” You pick your phone back up, ignoring him. You hear him let out a frustrated sigh and leave the room. You didn’t know what you wanted. You didn’t tell them that Namjoon had passed along his schedule to you and that he would be in Korea for 6 weeks starting in two weeks and that he had offered to buy you a plane ticket. You kept going back and forth. Fine. Fuck it.

YN: Hey! I’ve been thinking and I would like to come visit. As long as it’s not too much trouble and won’t interfere with your schedule

You let out a breath and put the phone down. One thing you have learned is that he keeps very strange hours and there is no way of knowing when he will be awake, when he will be performing, or even what country he is in. You are shocked when you receive a reply instantly.

NJ: It’s no problem. I will be working a lot of the time, but there is also some free time blocked out so make sure you’re ready to do some sightseeing as well on your own. I’ll rent a noona for you.

YN: I have no idea what that means but ok. Sounds exciting.

NJ: You can rent tour guides. An “older sister” to translate and show you around on some of the days.

YN: That would be amazing! Ok. Sounds great!!

NJ: I’ll book the flight and email you the information.

YN: Awesome ^_^ Thank you so much.

You try to keep your cool. You really do. But it doesn’t last long as you sit the phone down and walk out into the hallway. “Xavier!”

“What? Brat.” You hear him call from the living room.

“I’m going to Korea!” You say with a big smile on your face.

“Holy shit. You’re doing it!?! Really? When?” He sits up straight on the couch.

“I’m not sure. He’s booking the flight.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God. IT’S HAPPENING. Come. Sit here. Let’s watch some Kdramas. We need to prepare you.”

You roll your eyes but join him on the couch anyway.

--3 weeks later--

The flight isn’t too bad. When Namjoon booked your ticket you did secretly wonder if he would spring for an upgraded seat since you know...you guessed he was rich. You did not expect that he was going to pay for a first class seat though. The comfort of the seats and the fact that food was actually delicious helped to balance out the longest flight you had ever taken in your life. You managed to get some rest on the plane, but not very much since you were so excited and nervous. You had not seen each other for a while. And the last time you saw him you were both naked.

When you arrive you don’t have any bags to collect; you just brought your carry-on. You know you are going to do a lot of shopping while you are there and had decided you would just buy a suitcase there. You walk down to departures and scan the crowd looking for your name. This was so exciting. You had been the person in the crowd holding a name placard before, but you had never had it done for you. It helped that it was one of the few names written in English. You smile and walk over to a man in a suit. After confirming each other’s identity, you follow him out to a black SUV with tinted windows. He takes your bag and you slide into the backseat.

YN: Hey! I’m on my way to the hotel. When will I get to see you?

NJ: Yeah….about that. There is no way I would be able to just be going in and out of a hotel without anyone here noticing. This isn’t LA. We can’t really go out in public much here. The driver will be taking you to my apartment complex. Once you get here, you will let security know who you are. They will provide you with a key and directions.

You weren’t expecting this at all, but it made sense.

YN: Umm ok. Sounds like a plan.

You hoped to God someone at the security office spoke English. Oh well. You typed some things into your translation app just in case and tried to enjoy the scenery. It was a city, but it seemed a lot cleaner than LA. Less sunny, and more modern. At least the parts you were driving through.

After a fifteen minute taxi ride that has brought you into a very fancy part of Seoul you try to keep your cool as your driver assures you that this is the location you are supposed to be at. It is fancy looking as fuck and has a giant ass gate around it. The driver pulls up and shows his credentials and then pulls up and rolls your window down.

The security officer stands there, looking at you. You pull out your passport and state your name. He looks over a sheet of paper and nods. Handing you an envelope that feels like it has a keyboard and some papers in it. You thank him in shitty Korean and the driver closes the window. You open the envelope.

“Hey. If you’re getting this, I wasn’t able to get off work in time to meet you. The driver knows which building to go to. Use this key to go to unit 4106. Text me when you get there. Sorry!

Namjoon”

The chauffeur drives between several of the buildings. The streets are lined with trees and there appeared to be several small gardens between the buildings. The car comes to a stop outside building 4. The driver gets out to open your door and hands you the bag. You thank him and head into the building.

The apartment building was a lot like a luxury hotel, you find yourself thinking. It was decorated similarly with gilded light fixtures and a marble floor. You scan your key card at the elevators and head up to the 10th floor.

It becomes very obvious from the minute you walk in that this is Namjoon’s actual apartment. His giant shoes are all over the foyer. You purse your lips and take out your phone.

YN: YOU DIDNT SAY IT WAS YOUR APARTMENT

NJ: Relax sweetheart, the guest bedroom is for you. I’m hardly ever there. Make yourself at home and I’ll see you later ;p

YN: THATS NOT THE POINT

NJ: You’re welcome. Stop being a brat and enjoy.

You pout a little bit. Fine. Fine. You’ve already slept with him so why does it matter if this is his apartment. Because it feels so much more intimate, you think. You enter into the space while texting Xavier.

YN: New chapter in the Kdrama series.

You knew Xavier would normally be sleeping, but he was so excited and wanted to make sure you made it safely he was wide awake.

X: Oh no, what?

YN: he didn’t arrange for me to stay in a hotel IM AT HIS APARTMENT.

X: AHAHAHAHAHA HOLY SHIT. Is it nice? Is there like a waterfall? Does it smell like rich people? Send pictures!

YN: I don’t think I should send pics since he’s famous, but there are no waterfalls that I can see. It smells normal. Actually no, it smells new, like people don’t really live here. Stay tuned for updates.

X: Has he dicked you yet?

YN: -_- he’s stuck at work. And I’ll be in the guest bedroom thankyouverymuch.

X: Yeah….ok…..suuuuuuure.

You put your phone back in your pocket and continue to wander around the apartment. It is the size of a house. There is a small terrace running along the side of the unit and three open rooms that flow together. I guess rich people need more than one living room? You wonder. They are all furnished with couches and art. The floors are a beautiful Marble. Or Granite. Some expensive imported thing. You notice several plants on the wall as well as out on the terrace. Huh. I did not think he would be into plants, you find yourself thinking.

YN: Nice plants

NJ: My pride and joy

You smile and walk into the kitchen. It looks like a showroom. You doubt much cooking goes on here. If you could afford to eat out all the time you would too. You open the fridge and as predicted, it is mostly empty. There are a few bottles of water and some random condiments. Panic strikes you as you begin to wonder if there’s a coffee maker in this apartment. This could be a deal breaker; you might have to flee to the Marriott. There isn’t one sitting out. You frantically open cabinets. You make eye contact with a very fancy looking Espresso maker. Ok. You will learn how to use this beast. You sit it out on the counter and plug it in. Crisis averted for now. You continue through the rest of the house. You quickly find the master bedroom. Big bed. That’s all you take note of before closing the door. You don’t want to be nosy. You wander to the other end of the apartment and find an extra bedroom and an office. You don’t go to the office, but do take your stuff into the guest bedroom. You are feeling tired and starting to feel hungry.

YN: When will you be back? Is there a convenience store nearby? I need coffee and/or food.

NJ: Sorry. It will still be a while. Actually there are several stores on property. The closest one is in building 2. Here, download the app. I’ll send you the login info.

YN: Thanks.

You change out of your traveling clothes into real clothing and head to the market. The apartment complex’s layout is fairly easy to understand once you look at the app. You walk over to tower 2 and ride the elevator to the market level. It looks like the atrium of a cruise ship. There is a giant crystal chandelier hanging in the middle of the lobby area as well as beautiful indoor trees, glass art bulbs, probably a peacock or two wandering around, and some light music playing in the background. Oh God. I should just starve. This is too fancy. I need to leave.

You turned to leave when you heard a voice speaking politely in Korean. You ignore it, and then hear the same voice ask in English, “Excuse me, Miss. Can I help you?” A short man in his 50’s walked over. “I’m on the concierge staff here. You must be new.”

“Ah yes. Thank you. Umm...Coffee please?”

“Of course. Take-away or beans?”

“Both please?” You ask, trying to keep it simple and very thankful for the English.

“Yes of course. If you just get me the unit number I can actually just have it sent there. Also there is an ordering and delivery app you can use next time if you would like to save yourself the walk.” The man explained while he typed some information into a tablet.

“That’s very helpful. Thank you. For today, now please.”

“Very well miss, please insert your chip or resident card here and sign,” he turned the tablet towards you. You inserted your debit card.

“Thank you. Please wait.”

You take a seat in the fancy lobby area and get out your phone. You had some messages from Namjoon.

[NJ]: Oh, there is also an app you can download and order groceries to the apartment.

[NJ]: I usually eat at work so I forget about it.

[NJ]: Sorry, you probably already hiked there.

A smirk crossed your face as you started to type a response.

[Y/N]: Sorry, I just saw these. And no worries. It’s a beautiful part of the complex. I was a little overwhelmed to be honest but the concierge was very helpful! 10/10 recommend.

You take a picture of the lobby area and send it to him.

[NJ]: wow, yeah that’s beautiful. I haven’t actually been there myself.

The concierge returns, handing you a coffee and a bag of coffee beans. You thank him profusely one more time.

“My pleasure. Take care.”

You sit the beans down and pose with your coffee cup, snapping a selfie to send to Namjoon.

[Y/N]: There, now all is right with the world ^_^

[NJ]: :) See you soon!

You travel back to the apartment and unpack your suitcase. You try your hardest to stay awake, but at this point you have been up for over 24 hours and you can feel the pull of sleep. You’ll just lay down for a nap.

---------

It is dark outside by the time Namjoon gets off work. He feels bad he couldn’t meet you in the car at the airport, and even worse that he’s kept you waiting for hours. You haven’t answered any of his texts these past few hours either. He opens the door to his apartment. The lights are off. Did you leave? He wonders. He flips on the light and sees your shoes by the door which put a smile on his face. You must be sleeping. He hasn’t actually been in his apartment for about 2 months. It was mostly the same as he left it, except most of the time when he returned the apartment had a stale smell from having been left empty. This time it smelled like coffee and girl.

He enters the main living area and finds you laying in a small blanket nest on the couch with a laptop on the table; a coffee cup resting on a coaster next to it. He smiles and goes through to his bedroom to deposit his travel bag. He washes his face and changes clothes and then proceeds to nervously pace. Should he wake you up? You were probably tired, but at the same time, to prevent jet lag you shouldn’t sleep too much, and he wanted to hang out with you. He wrestles with this issue for a while and then decides he will try to wake you up.

He gently shakes your foot, “Hey sleepy. Wake up.”

“Mmmmmmmmmmm…” you respond. What’s happening? You kick the thing bothering your foot. So annoying. You hear a deep voice laugh. Oh shit, where were you again? The shaking of your foot resumes and you crack open one of your eyes and see Namjoon sitting on the couch. “Heyyyy.”

“Hey there sweetheart. Nice seeing you in Korea.”

You feel your heart do a little flip flop at the way he’s talking to you but you want to play it cool. “Yeah. It’s good to be here.” You stretch out and move to sit up.

“How are your legs doing?” He asks.

“Good. They get stiff pretty easily and I still have to do my exercises everyday but they don’t hurt most of the time or anything. I get pretty bad headaches from time to time, but you already knew that. Sorry about that by the way.”

“It’s fine, I just carry aspirin around with me now.” He shrugs. “Did you get any food? Should I order something?”

“Yeah. Order some super Korean food.” You are fully awake now.

“Yeah? You serious? It’s not going to be like Koreatown food.” He teases

“Might as well jump in. If I don’t like it, there’s always rice, right?” You smile.

“That’s true,” he takes out his phone to order dinner.

“What did you do today?”

“Today was planning for the Festa. Even though it’s months away we have to make sure we have enough content planned just in case there are any unforeseen delays.”

“Cool.” You say. You had done your basic level ARMY research so you were somewhat familiar with their different activities.

“How was your flight? You should probably get up and stretch those legs around. Get up.” He pushes your shoulder playfully.

“Ughhh….fine. By the way. Nice apartment. Is rent like 20 grand a month?” You stand up groaning slightly like an old woman. Damn stiff legs.

“Uhh...I paid 6 million dollars for it up front so I don’t pay rent. Do you want anything to drink?”

It’s a good thing you weren’t drinking anything when he dropped that little factoid on you or you would have spit it out comic-book style. Jesus. That explained the security and Gucci grocery store. “Uh water please.” You walked over following him to the kitchen. “It’s good to see you by the way. Thanks for inviting me.” You slowly remember how to speak like a human again.

“Sure. I wish I had more free time to spend with you, but I’m glad you were able to make it.” He fills a glass with water for you. “Wait a minute! Before I forget,” he jogs out of the room and returns with a small box. “Here, this is for you. We were in Australia last month and I wanted to get something for you.”

You are surprised. It didn’t occur to you that he would think about you or buy you something. Until a few months ago you had considered yourself a nuisance. “Wow, thank you so much. You didn’t have to do that.” you say, taking the box, “I hope it’s a tiny KNOIFE or tiny koala or tiny kangaroo,” you open the box. It is an adorable mug with a Koala on it superimposed on the Australian Continent. It says in English, “Lucky Australian Koala.” You burst out laughing, cupping the mug with both your hands in front of your face. “This is perfection. Thank you so much for my authentic LUCKY AUSTRALIAN KOALA, I cannot wait to drink out of him tomorrow. Seriously. “ You sit the mug on the kitchen table. Fuck it. “Come here,” you gesture, and pull him in for a hug. His body feels solid against your and he gently wraps his arms around you. You give a firm squeeze. “Thank you for the mug and for flying me out here.” You pull away and smile at him.

He looks away almost shy, “It was nothing. I figure I still owe you a few for the pen incident.”

You take a drink of the water. “Yeah. You have had some dickish moments.”

“Speaking of dickish behavior...do you want to talk about what happened with Ben or…?”

You shrug. “There’s not a lot to say. Ben apparently met his soulmate about 4 months before the car accident. He tried to stay away since we had already agreed that we didn't care about stuff like that. But he couldn't. I don't know when he started seeing Jessie behind my back. They were apparently banging all summer in the apartment and while I was in the hospital.” You take another gulp of water. Namjoon is surprised that he isn’t feeling much anger or sadness coming off of you. “After I got all my shit out of the apartment and had a chance to calm down, I couldn't be too mad about it you know? You and I had already slept together and most people aren't as stubborn as us. So really, how could they resist? I mean I was angry and sad at the time but at this point it seems like a lifetime ago. "

Namjoon had never asked about what had happened with Ben before, assuming that if you wanted to talk about it you would have brought it up. " Wow. "

"Yeah. I mean that's waaaay oversimplified but that's the gist of it. Anyways. Everything was a mess for me for a while. You know I stayed with Xavier and Joe and then Xavier's husband got a really good job offer here so we all picked up and left LA."

“And now you’re in New York.” He finishes your thought

“Yeah. Well Jersey technically because rent is $1000 less a month. But I’m applying for jobs as assistant director at tv stations and theaters. I’m hopeful something will come up. I can’t really teach fitness classes anymore.”

Namjoon listens thoughtfully, feeling like a jackass for never asking about this stuff before. What kind of soulmate was he?

“Well, let me know if you need a job reference.”

“Ahahahaha,” You laugh awkwardly. “No way. I don’t want people thinking I only got a job because I know someone famous.”

“Sweetheart, that’s how everyone gets jobs in the industry.” He leans against the counter.

“I don’t know, I’ll think about it.” You fidget

“You know I’ll just text Xavier and he’ll tell me the companies you applied for.” Namjoon flashes his dimples at you.

You scowl. “I didn’t realize you two were so chummy.”

“Hey, we bonded a lot in the hospital.” His phone let out a chirp. “The food is at the security office. I’ll be back in a few. Make yourself at home.” He heads over to the foyer to slip his shoes on.

You decide to unpack and then wash your face and brush your teeth before returning to the main area where he has just returned. “That was fast”, you comment, meeting him near the door and taking a bag from his hands.

“I rode my bike over.” He replies, following you to the kitchen.

“They let your clumsy ass ride a bike?” You tease, pulling food out.

He lets out a laugh, “Yeah. Just remember, only one of us has got hit by a car.”

“Touche. Touche. Alright. I don’t know what any of this is, so I’m going to go wait at the table like a lazy bitch.”

“Haha, fair enough. I’ll bring it over. “

You head over and have a seat at the dining table, placing your water down. This feels so weird. So intimate. He joins a few minutes later placing a bunch of food on the table along with a spoon and chopsticks.

“I’m sure there’s a fork around here somewhere if you need one.” He says as he opens the lids on the containers.

“I lived in LA where we ate sushi almost every day, I think I’ll be ok.” You sass back, ,looking over all of the delicious food. You start to dig in. He sits waiting to see what your reaction will be. You flash him a thumbs up as you chew. It’s definitely good. He smiles and begins to eat as well.

Dinner is relatively quiet. You had no idea how hungry you were until you started to eat. Some of the foods had a texture you didn’t quite care for, but overall you liked it all.

“Wow. That was delicious. Thank you so much.” You smile

“It was. You’re welcome.” He gets up and starts to clear the table and you join him.

You continue to yawn involuntarily as the two of you straighten up the kitchen,

“Do you want some coffee or a nap?” he asks.

“I’m going to try and stay awake a little bit longer. What does the rest of the night look like?”

“Relaxing. I am exhausted from work. And you don’t look so fresh yourself. LEt’s watch a movie or something.” He says it so casually. Like this is a normal thing the two of you do. Like it hasn’t been months since the last time you saw each other and you left him naked and alone in a bed. You feel your heartbeat speed up.

“Hold on, I’m changing into some comfy clothes before I make this commitment.” you get up and head towards your room.

You come back in leggings and a shirt. Namjoon has re-positioned himself on the end of the couch. You sit next to him. “Ok, all set,” you grab your blanket.

“You take your comfort quite seriously,” Namjoon laughs as he hits the play button.

“Definitely,” you respond, yawning. After about half an hour, It’s dark outside, the night spilling into the living room. You are trying to keep your eyes open. You feel Namjoon put his large arm around you. You don’t resist, you nestle into it. You feel the warmth of his body radiating against you. It feels so nice.You try to stay awake but your eyelids grow heavy. The next thing you know, you wake up slowly, not quite oriented to where you are. Your face is sweaty. You take stock of your surroundings. You are still in the living room. You must have fallen asleep while watching the movie. You move a bit and realize you are not alone. Namjoon is asleep as well. Underneath you. Oh god. You probably trapped him. Is that your drool on his shirt? You wonder. But you know that yes, it definitely is. Jesus [Y/N].Not making a great impression here. Must sneak out so the drool will dry before he wakes up. You move as stealthy as possible off of him, which is very difficult since you found yourself laying between his legs. How did you even get like that? You had gone in for a light snuggle to see how it would be received and then apparently passed out dead. No more starting movies when you were tired. You knew it was your weakness.

The poor man probably had to pee and was stuck, forced to lay underneath you until he fell asleep. Is he snoring? Huh. Well ok. You drool and he snores. Very attractive individuals. You grab a blanket from your nest on the other side of the couch and put it on top of him. You sneak down the hallway to your bathroom, pee and sneak into your bedroom. You lay down and try to fall asleep, but your heart is beating fast as all you can think about it falling asleep on Namjoon. You feel your face grow warm. You are a mix of turned on and embarrassed. You turn off your light and wonder if he will still want to go sightseeing with your drooly-ass tomorrow. @calling-dips-on-j-hope @ghostkat23 @cuteipat @marianeamine@thisisval @almonte12 @themisunderstoodblackswan @bobbyboops @betysotelo18 @katerbees

#bts fic #bts writing #rm x reader #bts rm fanfic #namjoon scenarios #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #bts namjoon x reader #bts soulmate au #bts rm x reader #bts rm x you #rm x y/n

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thronesofshadows · 4 years

Text

Thank You for Being a Friend || Nadia & Evelyn

TIMING: The evening Nadia truly wasn’t home anymore. (aka after the exorcism gone wrong) LOCATION: Evelyn’s House, Harris Island PARTIES: @humanmoodring and @thronesofshadows SUMMARY: Pure wholesome friendship times. :-)

Standing on the porch of one Evelyn Hoffman, Nadia ran a hand through her greasy hair flinching a bit as she caught her reflection in the glass. She looked like she’d been rode hard and put away wet, bruises around her wrist and dried blood on her face and rust and dirt everywhere. She felt like a young god, though, all powerful, like there was electricity coursing hot through her veins. She felt like she was in the clouds, and the height was exhilarating and dizzying. She’d managed to start Nadia’s truck by barely touching it, the electricity practically begging her to manipulate it. Her body was exhausted, but her spirit was going haywire. Stille, Nadia knew she needed to rest, at least for a little bit, before those fucking children and their legion of friends came looking for her. As far as she knew, Evelyn was separated from all of that, which is why she was able to put on as big of a smile as she could as she knocked on the door. Her body was trembling with energy. Maybe she could say it was because of the cold.

She hadn’t heard from Nadia in a while - though that hardly changed the fact that she cared for the other woman - despite her being human. Despite the fact that Evelyn from years past would have scoffed at the level of care that she held for humans (but only certain ones, she had to remind herself), she could not help it. Some of the ones here were so much better than any that she had ever met at home. So when Nadia had asked for help, Evelyn hadn’t questioned it for a second. She pulled as many blankets out as she could, acknowledging the fact that for the first time in her memory she was going to have two people she cared for at her home - though right now Nadia was the priority. She moved quickly to the door once she heard the knock, pulling it open and offering Nadia a soft smile. “Come in, please.” You look terrible, she wanted to say. Would have said, if she had not been raised to be polite whenever possible. Particularly in circumstances that appeared as possibly dire as this one. “Can I do anything for you? Tea? A - hug?” Her nose wrinkled as she offered it, but perhaps that was what she needed. “I am also quite alright with just sitting together. Whatever you need.” She pressed her thumbs against her hips, letting the room grow quiet for just a moment.

“Thanks,” Nadia murmured, her eyes growing large as she took in the inside of Evelyn’s house. This was what she’d always wanted: living an extravagant life in an extravagant house surrounded by extravagant things. She wanted all of it, a bandit’s hideaway worth of stuff and then some. She wanted a palace and a throne and all the money in the world and-- She blinked at Evelyn, realizing she’d spaced out in the middle of what the other woman had been saying. She could feel the other woman’s concern. “Just a shower, right now, would be lovely.” She knew she looked like shit. Between living wherever she could for weeks and then getting her brain fucked by the exorcism, she had definitely seen better times. “No hugs,” she said, laughing a bit breathlessly. Even though Evelyn was pretty, Nadia didn’t want to be touched at all right now, her skin prickling from just the thought of it. “But thanks for this. All of this. I realize I look like hell. It’s been a long few weeks.”

“Of course.” Evelyn replied, her voice quiet. She watched Nadia carefully, not wanting to startle her (which was something she was certain Marley would curse her for, being too soft around humans, caring too much for their feelings and well-being). Not wanting to pressure her into anything. She pressed her palms against her hips, centering her thoughts before she re-focused on her friend. “Well, I have more than one of those and plenty of shampoo and conditioner to help you get as clean as you need.” She bit her lip, eyes taking in Nadia’s form, the way she held herself - she looked completely beaten down, but there was something in the way she laughed that caused Evelyn’s following giggle to hold a certain level of hesitation. “Of course. No hugs. I - well, you know I do not often do that either, so it works for me.” She bit her lip. “It is quite alright - I just, it means a lot that you trusted me enough to reach out. That you trusted me to be someone to go to.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Nadia said, an easy smile on her lips, though she was careful, so careful with Evelyn. This whole situation was a landmine, and her only saving grace was that she seemed to trust Nadia explicitly. There was no way that this could be a trap. At least… It couldn’t be, could it? No, Nadia would know. She would know. But Evelyn was so hesitant that she couldn’t really be sure. The lights flickered a bit, and Nadia jumped, startled by her own abilities. She did that. She did. She could do anything. “Works out well for both of us, huh?” She said, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart, beating as fast as if she’d taken electricity from the very building and pumped it into her chest. She gave Evelyn a meaningful, Nadia Diaz look. “Of course I trust you,” she said, sincerely lying through her teeth. This wasn’t about trusting Evelyn. Not at all. There wasn’t a damn person that she did trust. This was just a lack of distrust. “I can’t think of anyone I’d have rather gone to.”

“Anything for you.” Evelyn replied easily. She had tried to get her friend to come by before, to stay over, even - back when she had mentioned difficulties. She’d always refused, and though Evelyn entirely understood it - she was rarely one to ask for help - she had wanted to help Nadia, though, for whatever reason. The lights flickered and Evelyn glanced up at them. Her circuits, though she did not know much about electricity, were good. Stable or steady or whatever the accurate term would be. She pushed any sort of thought of worry aside, instead replying, “It does,” focusing back on Nadia. “Well, I should expect nothing less,” she replied, doing her best to keep her voice light. “Well, lucky for you, my home had quite good security and it is more than big enough in case you need your own space - which you are more than welcome to take.” She made her way further into her home, over to the sitting room - which seemed to be where she was spending a great deal of time with her guests - though it was what made the most sense. “Can I get you anything?” She sat down, and motioned for Nadia to do the same.

Cocking her head only slightly, Nadia looked at Evelyn, really looked at her, and, not for the first time since she’d started possessing this body, she wondered what it was about Nadia Diaz that was so goddamn special and interesting and worth “doing anything” for. She’d never seen it, personally, not when the girl was younger, not when she’d watched her stumble through some sort of semblance of a life here in White Crest. She was nothing. Nadia Diaz was nothing, but she’d made her something, made this body something. And now it was completely hers. She wanted to celebrate. She wanted to sleep for a decade. She wanted to scream. Instead, she just gave Evelyn a tired smile. “Thank you.” She looked around the house. Good security, huh? Maybe she’d test it out. “I feel safer already,” she said, and it was the truth. No one was going to look for her with Evelyn. Hell, she doubted there were many people that would even associate her with Evelyn, and that made this perfect. She bet she could hide out here with the woman indefinitely, but she didn’t want to stay, just to be completely safe. She’d need to distance herself from Nadia’s life completely, which meant wrapping up loose ends, making sure her host couldn’t come back, and then getting the hell out of town. Maybe somewhere sunny, and warm, and with lots of nice houses like this one to rob. “You’ve already done too much, seriously,” she told Evelyn as she followed her through the house and took a seat across from her. “This is more than enough.”

“I am glad you feel safer.” Evelyn wanted to say something more, because she wanted to do something more for Nadia. A certain part of her still blamed herself for whatever suffering Marley giving her nightmares had done, even though it wasn’t her fault. Even if regret for humans likely made her something of a terrible mara, perhaps even by her mother’s standards. At that thought, Evelyn’s mind shifted back to that brief time when she could dream, the way her mother had turned from soft to cruel so quickly. A trick of the imagination she was certain, and she told herself that had to be true. After all, she was more than a bit of an expert on the world of dreams. It didn’t stop it from stinging, from wondering if somehow the life she’d come to live would be one that both of her parents would disapprove of. She cared little for what her father thought, so long as he was back in England, but she’d always wanted to live her life in the best way that she could. Make herself into someone who her mother would have been proud of. “Good.” She tucked a strand of hair over her ear. “Well, it certainly is not more than enough by my standards, but if you say so, I shall acquiesce.” She held up her hands as if in false protest. “I can - do you want tea?” Her face turned immediately apologetic. “The socialite in me gets out a bit too much sometimes. We can just sit. Sit until you are ready for more.”

“Can’t imagine not feeling safe with you,” Nadia said, trying to make sure that her voice sounded open and honest. The truth was, though, that she didn’t feel any safer with this woman than she had while she was camping in the woods, all sorts of White Crest supernatural unknowns roaming around her, waiting to attack. She felt on guard because she knew the second that she relaxed or felt comfortable, Nadia could possibly-- But Nadia couldn’t. She wasn’t here anymore. This body was well and truly hers, and it was glorious (and overwhelming). So, that wasn’t why she was on guard, but she was still suspicious. She could feel this woman, sure, but who knew what Evelyn could be hiding? With her muted emotions that could probably change faster than Nadia could comprehend, there was no telling how dangerous she could be if she found out that sweet, kind Nadia Diaz had left the building. Coming here was probably a mistake, but it was one she was going to have to deal with. It wasn’t permanent, regardless. “We do have different standards,” she teased, an eyebrow raised and just a bit of laughter in her voice. Evelyn was on the opposite end of the spectrum when it came to standards, Nadia was sure. “Tea would be nice, though, if it would soothe your social niceties. It might be good for my throat, too.” It still felt a bit raw. “But don’t feel, like, obligated. How are you doing, Evelyn?” Let’s not make this all about me, remained unspoken, but it was there.

“Well, some may not, but I have always thought it most reasonable to make those who I care for feel safe.” Evelyn fiddled with her collar. She wanted to share more with Nadia, wanted to be as open as she could, but there was something a bit odd - or maybe she was reading too much into things, too afraid to break anyone else’s trust in who she was. Even if Alain had purportedly come around to understanding her, or so he claimed - he’d turned out to be not what she expected and she wasn’t quite sure what she’d do if Nadia didn’t accept her. “We do. However, I am not so very bothered by that. I find that there is little you could do to bother me.” She matched Nadia’s tone of voice. “Absolutely, and it is not just to soothe anything. I simply offer because I know that it makes me feel better, I know, whenever I feel under the weather.” She bit her lip, shifted her position to face Nadia. “I will get you some, soon. I am - well, I have not been sleeping as well as I ought to have. I have another friend staying, as I mentioned to you, but she will be out of your hair. She is just staying with me to make sure I stay safe as I can. I would not have had her come by, except I do trust her and I had offered before you asked for my help. You will be safe here.” She brushed her fingertips against her nose. “Otherwise I have been as well as one might expect, given how complex this town seems to be.”

“How in the world could anyone not feel safe with you, Ms. Hoffman? Nadia teased, though she kept it gentle, deciding to relax just a bit more. This woman was no threat, not to Nadia, and therefore not to her. The care she felt was genuine, and that was enough for her. If she was found out, she had no doubt that she’d be able to get out of any sort of difficult situation. After all, couldn’t hurt precious Nadia Diaz’s body. “I’m sure there’s something I could do that would bother you. What if I was a slob?” A murderer? “That’d be pretty bothersome.” Now it was time to put on the concerned friend hat. She could do that. She could be calm and concerned and totally a good friend, a good Nadia. “Do you know why you’re not sleeping well? Is it just, like, normal sleeping problems or abnormal sleeping problems?” She remember Evelyn mentioning another person, but she didn’t plan on sticking around long enough to meet her. Who knew? Maybe she’d have a bit of fun with Evelyn once she left, let her know that it wasn’t her friend that she’d been bothering. “Don’t sweat it. Any friend of yours is cool in my book. I’m sure she’s a-okay.” Maybe it was another wanted criminal. Nadia didn’t know, and she didn’t care. Evelyn Hoffman could hang out with whoever she pleased. “Yeah, this town is a shit show, isn’t it? Got a really nice horror movie ambiance.” What would this woman think, if she knew Nadia was literally coming to her straight outta The Exorcist? “This side of town’s swanky as hell, though.”

“Just Evelyn, please.” She scrunched her nose up for a moment. Nadia was not usually so formal around her, but then again, everything seemed a bit overwhelming right now, and she still wasn’t sure just what Nadia had gone through. So Evelyn shrugged. It was meant as a joke, she told herself. “If you were a slob it would be a bit of trouble, but I believe whole-heartedly that we would manage to make do all the same.” She raised an eyebrow as she settled against the back of the couch. “Perhaps I would have to clean, how very dreadful.” She let a small bit of laughter escape her lips then, followed by a small shrug. “I think it is more on the abnormal end of things.” She drummed her fingertips on her thigh. “I have always been quite routine with my sleep schedule, and this is a new and entirely odd development. I am glad you are good with my other friend. She is a delight, I think the two of you would get along well, but I think she also wishes to stay out of your hair, so all is well.” She looked over to Nadia again. “I mean, I cannot say I am wholly opposed to horror, but you are correct that this town is frequently filled with things both terrifying and unexpected.” She couldn’t help but let a proper grin cross her lips at the next comment. “Well, I do like the very best, both in company and items, so I should hope so. I am ever so pleased you have found the time to come by, even though I wish it were under better circumstances.”

“Of course, just Evelyn,” Nadia said almost immediately. “Is that so? Well, I would hate to make you have clean, of all things.” Though, did someone like Evelyn clean, or was she rich enough to have people for that? She looked around once more. Yeah, she was definitely rich enough. Nadia wanted something like this. She wanted it desperately, and now she could achieve it. She was the only Nadia Diaz here, the one that won their body, her body. She won. “Of course it’s on the abnormal end of things. When is anything on the normal end of things? It’d be bad for business around here.” It’d be bad for her business, now that she could easily slip back into crime uninterrupted. No more sour feelings at doing what had to be done. She could be just as rich as Evelyn Hoffman in a matter of months, richer, even. Things were going her way. Who knew all she had to do was give up a peaceful afterlife to get it? Seemed like a fair bargain. If there was no risk, then there was no reward. “I hope everything gets sorted quickly with your sleep problems. Soon. Sorry if I’m not the greatest guest, but tell your friend I’m sure she’s great. I’ll probably head out in a day or two. I’ve got a bunch of shit to sort through.” She ran a hand through her tangled hair. First order of business? Find somewhere more permanent to crash. Then it would be time to get to work properly. “Horror’s best when it’s on a screen. It’s wicked cool when you’ve got some separation to it.” But she grinned, matching Evelyn. “You do have great taste in both things. While I am sorry it took me so long to come by, I really can’t tell you just how grateful I am.” Because that would be giving away too much, too soon.

“I mean, we are friends.” They were, right? Evelyn had to pause for a moment. She couldn’t sense anything, that wasn’t within her abilities, but there was something in Nadia’s tone that felt less soft than she was used to. Though perhaps her judgement was just off. Alain had proved that well enough, though she refused to focus on that right now. “You know, sometimes I like it. When I was avoiding sleep… however many months ago it was, I reorganized parts of my home. It is rather cathartic.” She shrugged, running a hand through her hair. “A fair point; it would be rather horrid for business, after all, what would we do without giant lobsters or red skies or - well, any number of things that I cannot even remember even though they have all occurred this year.” She bit her lip at her friend’s next comments. “Mm, it is more just that I am used to. I have had relatively stable sleep my entire life, so this is just odd, that is all. You are a wonderful guest regardless.” She took the time to look over Nadia, taking in everything about her that she could. “That is why you are here. For you to have plenty of time to sort through everything that you need. You can head out whenever suits you, but I have no shortage of space, and it is free lodging - not that - not that you seem to need that, but it does not hurt.” She nodded. “Yes, separation from it is well and good. Well, your gratitude is appreciated though not necessary. I am happy to do whatever I can for you.”

“Absolutely, we’re friends.” There was no longer any sort of guilt accompanying the lie, no annoying presence in the back of Nadia’s head that wanted to break free at the worlds. She grinned, full and certain and overly happy. “Of course we’re friends.” She cocked her head to the side, just a bit, knowing that she was supposed to remember something about Evelyn not sleeping but not knowing enough about the situation to comment on it. “Fair enough. But, yeah, no, we would be nowhere without the giant lobsters and the weird fish in the fog.” That had been her least favorite part of camping, all the fucking weird shit that had been in the woods with her. “I hope your sleep schedule gets back to normal soon. I, for one, know I’m going to sleep incredibly after all the excitement I’ve had recently.” Nadia leaned forward and took Evelyn’s hands in hers, giving them a squeeze. She hoped her smile was sincere enough. She didn’t have the energy to read the room. “I’m still grateful, and I know you’re gonna say I don’t have to, but I will repay, okay?” She didn’t do debts. Nadia pulled away, covering her mouth as she yawned. “Wanna talk later? I’m kind of beat.” Physically and mentally. She needed some rest, and she needed to figure out what to do to repay Evelyn before she left. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to worry about talking to her again.

“Naturally.” Evelyn shrugged. “I should rather prefer to never once deal with any of that again, as I find them rather a bother.” Which was an understatement, but she was well-aware that her behaviors were just that, sometimes, when she didn’t crave attention, and right now she was far more curious about her houseguest. “I bet it will. My friend does wonders to help me, and knowing I have kept you safe will aid in that too, certainly.” She squeezed Nadia’s hand back, letting her hands linger against the other woman’s for a few moments before Nadia broke away and Evelyn’s gaze settled on hers, taking in how she held herself. So different now from that night in the Artesian, all those many months ago. “You will also sleep well because I have only the highest quality sheets on all of my beds. Okay. If you wish, you can repay, but you are correct that you do not have to.” She nodded. “Yes, of course. I hope you sleep well. I will be here in the morning.”

#wickedswriting #c nadia #c not!nadia #chatzy #thank you for being a friend #// nothing to see here :--)#also i adore virginia so very much #and nadia and notia are wonderful

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jadekitty777 · 4 years

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Who Needs Genetics When We Have Family?

We’re now at the final stretch for this Golden Hummingbird adventure. I thank the few people who have stuck around for this ride, as it was a great joy to write. There’s one more chapter that will be up in a few days, and it’s absolutely my favorite of them all!

Word Count: 7,200

Pairing: Summer/Tai/Qrow

Ao3 Link: Who Needs Genetics When We Have Family?

Summary: While going through her mom's old clothes, Ruby discovers an old scrap book that reveals she may have one additional parent she never knew about. Now questioning everything from how the trio ended up together down to her very identity, Tai and Qrow find themselves with a lot to answer for.[Takes place Post-Canon]

Dust shook from the rafters as Ruby stomped about the attic, ducking under spider webs and zigzagging around the clutter of old things her packrat of a father just couldn’t bear to get rid of. Her only source of light filtered in from the small circular window, mites dancing in the beam. Though it was still early spring, the air in the highest level of the house was stifling, and she had to keep wiping sweat from her brow.

“Anything?” Yang called from where she was perched on the attic steps, only her head and top half of her torso visible.

“I don’t see it!” She replied. She pat the railing of her old baby crib as she passed it. “We really need to tell dad to get rid of some of this old junk.”

“Ruby, of all the battles I will happily jump into, telling dad to do spring cleaning is not one of them.” Her sister said in a tone more suited for a mortician.

“You’re so dramatic.” She replied. She mostly ignored the indignant response that earned her, busying herself with shining her scroll’s flashlight at the tower of boxes in one corner of the room. “Oh, I see it!”

“Yeah?” Yang climbed the rest of the way up.

While she made her way over, Ruby balanced her scroll on the armrest of an old rocking chair, making sure the flashlight was pointed towards the black luggage trunk that made up the base of the box pyramid. “Figures it’d be at the bottom.”

“Yeah but I’ll have it out in no time.” Her sister boasted, already reaching up to bring down the first box.

Ruby winced when she almost conked herself on the head with it. “Please don’t give yourself a concussion.”

“I got it!” Yang carefully brought it down to grip it more securely before setting it to the side. It would be one of many as she brought one after another down from the tower, creating smaller piles on either side of herself until it looked like a collection of cardboard skyscrapers. It wasn’t long before she was placing the last one, running a hand over her face. “Alright, that’s it. Stand back a bit, I got to drag this out.”

Ruby quickly backed up a few steps, rocking on her heels while her sister pulled out the trunk between the miniature city by the handle. With more room to move, she was able to sidle around to the opposite side and grab the other handle. Together, they carried it back to the hatch, Yang going down first while Ruby angled it down towards her, not letting go until she had a secure grip on it and could put it on the floor.

Ruby started to climb down, saying, “You know, it just occurred to me we probably should have checked to make sure we got the right one.”

“Well, then let’s check now.” There was a series of snaps as Yang undid the latches and opened the top. “Yep, that’s a lot of frills alright.”

“It’s tactical camouflage!” She argued even as she nearly tripped over herself to get a look, unable to help the squeal as she saw the many folded up skirts, dresses and blouses packed into the trunk. One that particularly caught her eye was a red and black corset top with bows tied into the sides. She snatched it up, speeding down the hall in a flurry of petals. “I’m gonna try on this one first!”

“Wait! What about the rest!?” Yang yelled after her.

“Can’t talk, gotta dress!” Ruby shouted back, already standing in the middle of their bedroom. She unraveled the fabric of her cape from around her collar, tossing it onto the bed. She was shimmying into the new corset by the time her sister was coming in, trunk in tow.

“You’re the worst.” Yang told her, dropping the load in the middle of their room.

“And you’re the best!” She chirped right back, whirling to face her. “So, what do you think?”

Her sister gave her a once over, humming. “Well it’s cute but I don’t think it’s first date material.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause it’s basically the same thing you always wear. You should go for something with more color.”

Ruby crossed her arms, grumbling, “Red’s a color.”

Yang was already back in the trunk, pulling out more clothes. “You know what I mean. Something different, flashier. Really dazzle him.”

She pulled at the little bows mournfully, but she knew her sister was right – probably. She’d certainly gone on more dates than her at least. Not that it was hard to compete with a number of zero. Still, she didn’t want to mess this up and if that meant being a little more girly for a night, she could handle that. She’d even wear heels!

…Maybe.

“So what are you thinking?” She asked, resigned to her fate of being Yang’s dress up doll. This was starting to feel like their pre-teen years all over again.

“Well, first we need to organize all this. Then we can see what looks good on you. You should put the skirts and dresses on your bed.” Yang suggested while dropping an armful into her hands.

Ruby huffed but did so, straightening them out side by side so they could see them all while Yang did the same on her own bed with the blouses. Most everything was just blacks upon blacks with splashes of color to them - unassuming and quiet. It made her think of her mother’s picture in the photo with her team and how she was off to the side, as if she were trying to hide.

“You think it’s weird that me and mom have the same style?” Ruby asked as she pulled out another one of her mom’s skirts, instantly falling in love with the lace roses sewn into the petticoat. She was keeping this one.

“Not really.” Yang shrugged, glancing back at her. “You never got to know her. It’s probably normal that you’d want to try and emulate her somehow.”

“Dunno if I’d call that normal.” Ruby reached into the trunk again, using her arm as a clothesline to layer the outfits. As she drew closer to the bottom though, something pure white peeking between the folds of fabric caught her eye. Her heart jumped. But as she dropped the pile onto the floor so she could unearth it, she found it wasn’t the cloak she knew her mother always wore, but another dress. She instantly knew it was special, because it was unlike anything else in the trunk and more on par with something she could imagine Weiss owning.

The material was soft but shimmery and definitely expensive. Satin, she was pretty sure. The bodice was simple but elegant with its off-shoulder straps and delicate lacework overlaid on top in branching, flowery designs. The entire dress was so long she imagined it must have trailed the floor when her mother walked in it, yet also had a lot body around the flounce like a traditional ball gown. Like many of the other clothes, there was only a small bit of color combating its primary shade – but on all the white, the yellow and black flowers that circled the waistline like a belt were instantly eye-catching; loud and wanting to be seen.

She knew the yellow was for dad – it was tradition to wear the husband’s colors on the wedding dress. They were even shaped like sunflowers. But she wasn’t sure why her mom had chosen black dahlias instead of roses. The blotches of dark in-between all the sunny brightness felt out of place, like a bad omen.

“Whoa.” Yang breathed as she came over to get a better look. “It’s gorgeous.”

Ruby couldn’t help but agree. It didn’t seem right to just toss it aside while they kept looking. “Maybe we could hang this one up for now?”

Her sister nodded, heading to their closet to fetch a spare hanger. It wasn’t long before they had the dress hanging over the edge of their closet door. In the light coming from the window, it really seemed to make the fabric shine. It felt a shame that its only future was to wrinkle away in the corner of their attic.

But Ruby also knew it was no mistake that it had been at the bottom of the trunk to begin with.

Maybe that was why she found something else hiding away in there just a few minutes after.

The burgundy red, leather-bound book was tucked away at the bottom, face down. Ruby reached for it, finding it surprisingly heavy as she plopped down onto the ground and flipped it over.

Yang joined her moments later. “What’d you find now?”

“I think it’s a photo album.” Ruby said, looking down at the picture in the window embedded into front cover of her mom, her dad and Uncle Qrow. Mom stood between them, an arm around either of them and waving peace signs over their shoulders. Dad stood to the left, laughing while his own arm reached around behind them to muss up Qrow’s hair, who was on the right. It was her uncle’s grinning expression that gave Ruby pause.

She wouldn’t say her uncle was never happy but, she was more accustomed to seeing the gentle, reserved smiles he’d give when he was proud of something she’d done or was just in a comfortable atmosphere. Only when he was drunk did he ever seem that enthused – but something told her he was anything but during the time this picture was taken. She wondered how young he was.

“Hey, it’s dad’s lullaby.”

“Huh?” Completely derailed from her thoughts, she glanced at Yang in confusion only to look at where her metallic finger was pointing. So distracted by the photo, she hadn’t noticed the words scripted around it. ‘I know that when I’m with you’ it said above the picture, and underneath it finished the lyric with ‘I’m at home’. She could practically hear her dad’s soft cadence echoing in her ear, just as it had when she was small.

It was a song about family and love – and the reminder made her realize that someone else was suspiciously missing from the cover. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t still hidden within its pages.

“Come on, open it!” Yang urged.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be looking at this.” She deflected.

She was unfortunately not as sly as she hoped she was as her sister quickly waved her off. “If she’s in there, it’s fine. I can handle it.”

Ruby eyed her, those words not exactly instilling her with confidence when the years’ worth of arguments between her and dad still seemed to echo down their halls. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” Yang met her gaze. “Don’t worry so much, okay? The way I see it, she’s the one who missed out. She never got to see all the things I accomplished or be a part of our awesome family. That’s her loss, not mine.”

Ruby felt the oddest sense of sadness overcome her. Not because her sister had seemed to of made peace with Raven’s abandonment, but that she hadn’t seen it happen. “When did you start thinking like that?”

“Around the time we, uh, ‘met’ Weiss’ family.”

She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the thought. They had been a bundle of fun alright. While Winter was bearable, if a little cold, Whitley was a lot like Weiss had been, a spoiled brat with a ‘better than thou’ attitude, except dialed to eleven. Her mother, Willow, was a worse drunk than Qrow, to the point the woman almost seemed in a permanent state of catatonic inebriation. And Jacques was…

Well, Ruby didn’t really have any non-swear related words to attach to a man who really should never have been allowed to procreate, let alone raise three kids.

What she did have was a desire to turn back time and drag Weiss back to her own home for a do-over on her childhood. To let her experience what it was like to have a dad who would pin her grades to the fridge and bandage her scraps when they hurt. To have an uncle that was comfortable to act like a kid right along with her and who never got impatient even if she asked him to tell the same story for the fifth time. To have siblings to build pillows forts together with and sneak downstairs late at night so they could share one more cookie from the jar. To have a family that had rowdy dinners full of laughter, vacations focused on nothing but fun, and holidays that made everyone feel just a little more together then before.

Yang continued on, “Seeing how Weiss handled things back then, I couldn’t help but admire her strength. It felt like she spent her entire life surrounded by people who didn’t want her. And yet, instead of letting that get to her, she acted like it was their fault. And it is. Because, Weiss is great. She’s practically another sister to me, and I can’t imagine her not being part of my life. Anyone who can reject her so easily isn’t worth her time.” She placed a hand on her chest, “And the whole thing just kind of gave me a reality check, you know? It made me think: if Weiss can do it, then I can too.” Her fingers curled into a fist over her heart. “So, I decided from that day on, I would. Raven may not have wanted me, but that’s fine, because I have plenty of people who do, and those are the people who matter.”

Ruby couldn’t help it – she hugged her.

Though confused, Yang responded in kind. “What’s this all about?”

“I’m just happy for you.” She told her.

For as poor an explanation as it was, her sister smiled like she’d never heard a better reason. “Thanks sis.” When they pulled apart, she tapped the album again. “So, we gonna look at it or what?”

“Oh, right!” She settled back, adjusted the book so that it was laid more properly in her lap, and opened it.

As it turned out, her worries were completely invalid. For the book – which turned out not to be a photo album but a scrap book – was almost definitely not going to showcase Raven.

It was impossible to imagine it would, what with the hand-written script ‘To my boys whom I love with all my heart’ written around the picture of Uncle Qrow kissing their dad on the cheek.

“Well.” Yang said, tone as shell-shocked as Ruby felt. “That’s new.”

Tai hummed a bouncy tune as he poured the cups of tea, body bopping gently to the rhythm.

“You seem to be in a good mood.” Qrow observed from where he sat at the dining table.

He unscrewed the jar of honey, spooning some out. “Suppose I am. It’s just been so calm lately.”

“DAD!”

The shout startled him, the spoon falling from his hand and clattering to the floor, splattering honey everywhere. He gave it a mournful look as Zwei eagerly padded over to lap it up.

“You were saying?” Qrow said, a teasing lilt in his tone.

Tai huffed his way, before turning his head towards the doorway where a flutter of petals was just fading around his youngest daughter. “Hey now, what did I say about semblances in the house?”

Ruby didn’t bother to answer and the sound of Yang’s thunderous steps coming down the stairs only seemed to enunciate her dark expression.

“Uh, honey? What’s wrong?” He asked, going from mildly perturbed to intensely worried as he started to cross the room.

Her hand jerked upwards, showing him what she was holding. “Care to explain this?”

He froze mid-step, his throat closing up at the sight of the old scrapbook Summer had gifted him and Qrow on their first anniversary.

Oh.

Oh shit.

Qrow’s own eyes doubled in size as he jumped up from his seat. “Where did you find that?”

“It was in mom’s trunk.” Yang answered as she finally made it to the room.

It was hard to pin down whether Qrow was being accusatory or not in the too-casual way he turned to him and said, “Figured you’d thrown it out.”

“I don’t throw out anything.” Tai replied numbly, finding it slightly easier to focus on him then Ruby’s unnerving glare. “Especially not anything of Sums.”

“But it was mine too, you could have given it to me.”

“I- Look!” He ran an agitated hand through his hair. “People do weird stuff when they’re depressed, okay?!”

“Guys!” Ruby cried shrilly. “Missing. The. Point!” She started waving the book at them, making him concerned for its life expectancy. “What does this mean? That you two were dating? With mom?!”

“Er.” Qrow hesitated, then revealed, “We were quite a bit more than that, kiddo.”

“WHAT?”

Tai withheld a sigh.

And it had started out as such a nice day too.

Ruby stared down at the dining room table, certain her thought process had shut down from the nuclear explosion that had gone off inside her brain cells because she just didn’t know how to comprehend what she was just told. Maybe it had a limit on how much unbelievable stuff it could take. Magic glowy eyes that disintegrated Grimm? Weird, but not too out of the bounds of reality. Magical maidens that controlled the weather? Pretty crazy, but alright. Relics created by the Gods and a magical witch that couldn’t die? Now things are getting a little out of hand but she could deal.

Her dad and Uncle Qrow being married to her mom at the same time? Okay now she had to be in an alternate reality.

Maybe she had just switched places with Yang for the day, because her normally hot-tempered sister sounded rather calm as she spoke up, “I don’t get it. Why don’t I remember any of this?”

“You were really young, Yang. And losing Summer had been traumatic for all of us.” Her dad replied. “It’s probably normal to block some stuff out.”

Qrow snorted, amusement coloring his tone. “You used to be a little bragger though.”

“I was?”

“Yeah, you kept going to all the other kids on the playground and telling them how you had two daddies to read you bedtime stories and a mom who made the world’s best cookies every night. And then you pushed them down when they called you a liar.”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me.” Their dad rubbed his temple as if recalling the old headaches, but his smile was fond. “We got so many angry phone calls from the other parents.”

“I really did that?” Yang asked. “I don’t remember that.”

“’Course you don’t. You hadn’t even started school yet, Firecracker. And boy were we not looking forward to it when you did. We were sure you were gonna end up in the principal’s office the first day.” Qrow laughed.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence!” Yang said, huffing a bit.

Ruby listened and seethed. Why were they laughing? And making jokes? None of this was funny!

Dad must have noticed, because he asked softly, “Sweetheart, you doing okay?”

“No!” She exploded, slamming her hands on the table. “Of course I’m not okay! Why didn’t you guys say anything? Why is everything some big secret in this damn house?!”

Her outburst soured the mood instantly, but she couldn’t find it in herself to feel bad.

Her dad shifted in his seat, crossing his arms along the table. “Believe me, this wasn’t a secret we intended to keep.”

“So then why did you?” She muttered, slumping down in her own chair and glaring at the table corner.

There was a soft sigh and an even softer admittance, “Because we were scared.”

The words caught her by surprise because she’d never seen her dad as anything but brave – yet here he was, telling her she was wrong. She glanced through her bangs at him, “’Bout what?”

“Everything, really.” He said. “Before we lost your mom, it really wasn’t a problem. We just figured you’d grow up knowing you had three parents and it would just be normal. But after she passed and things just fell apart between Qrow and I, everything got swept under the rug.”

“We talked about it.” Her uncle tacked on. “How and when and all that. We figured we’d tell you both at the same time. About Raven. About us. But…” His gaze shifted to Yang. “When you found out about Rae and didn’t handle it so well, we thought: ‘Well shit, we can’t do that to Ruby too!’ And so, we just kept pushing it off.” He gestured as he spoke, his tone having the inflection of a narrator from an animated movie, “At first we said ‘we’ll tell her when she’s ten!’ And then she was and we were all ‘No it’s too soon, maybe when she’s thirteen!’ And then year after year passed and…” He deflated, hand falling to the table. “We just, never knew when the right time was.”

“So, it’s my fault.” Yang spoke up.

“No, of course not!” Her dad quickly assured. “It was an accident you found out that early, nothing more. But Qrow and I could see how badly it affected you and because we had the power to choose to spare Ruby from the same thing… we took it.”

“We didn’t know what we’d do if we had two kids going through an identity crisis.” Her uncle lamented.

That’s when it hit her harder than Nora’s hammer to the gut.

“Wait.” Ruby sat up straight, looking between them. “Then, which one of you is my dad?”

They froze, sharing a look.

“Well…” Qrow spoke first, waving towards Tai. “Legally, he is.”

That didn’t sound like an answer. “What does that mean?”

Tai explained, “He means as far as your birth certificate is concerned, you’re mine. But as for who, uh-”

“Knocked up your mom.” Qrow intoned helpfully.

“Qrow!” Tai smacked his arm.

“What?! They’re adults. They can handle it!”

She really couldn’t.

Tai pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “As for who impregnated your mother… we don’t know.”

“You don’t know?!” Ruby echoed, unable to believe this. “How can you not know? Don’t they have tests for these things?”

“Well, yes, but, uh,” Tai floundered a bit.

Qrow spoke up instead (She never really noticed how often they did that), “Vale has a lot of legality restrictions when it comes to kids. Oz pushed a lot of those regimens with the council, because he wanted to make sure kids who lost their families were still taken care of, so we got a lot of advice from him. And the smartest thing to do was make Tai your dad, since he was the one staying at home. That way if anything happened to Summer and I at the same time, he wouldn’t have to fight the protection services to keep the family together.”

“But the kingdoms don’t share medical records.” Tai continued, “So, we figured when you kids were older and we could afford it, we could take a trip to Mistral or Atlas. Have the test done then, if that’s what you wanted.”

“What I wanted?” She frowned. “You guys didn’t want to know? It doesn’t bother you?”

“I did, at one point.” Qrow admitted. “But, then I held you for the first time, and I realized it didn’t matter. I loved you more than anything; learning which of us actually donated his DNA wasn’t going to change that.”

“It was the same feeling for me. I grew up in Vacuo. A lot of communities there live on the philosophy that family has nothing to do with blood and everything to do with heart.” Tai said, his smile kind and warm. The familiarity was odd when she felt like her whole world had flipped upside down. Wasn’t everything different now? Or was she just the one acting weird?

“Well then,” She scrambled, pointing towards Qrow. “Then why do I call you uncle? Shouldn’t I call you dad too or something?” The sudden burst of laughter from everyone made her rethink what she just said. “Oh my gods, be serious! Dad also.”

Qrow was the first to get ahold of himself. “We tried, at first. But no matter what we did, you just kept imitating your sister. We kind of realized by accident it probably made things easier on you kids, and on us too. If you called both of us dad, we’d never know who you were asking for. We figured eventually you’d come to understand it like Yang did.” He rubbed the back of his neck, the somberness veiling back over his expression. “But then things changed and here we are.”

“Why did it change?” Yang asked cautiously, as if she didn’t really want to hear the answer. “Did you two fall out of love?”

“No. It was the opposite really.” Tai said, sharing a look with him. The gaze they shared was a silent conversation all their own, and the slightest nod from Qrow spurred him onwards and he turned back to them. “Losing Summer was immeasurably hard. We were both grieving in our own ways, and we loved each other enough to know neither of us were doing anything but hurting each other. Qrow’s drinking was out of hand and I - back then I,” He trailed off, taking a deep breath. “Let’s just say depression is a very scary disease that can twist your thoughts in ways you never thought you could think of yourself. Until I got help, I wasn’t good for anyone.”

Ruby heard her sister shift uncomfortably beside her. She didn’t really have many memories of back then; mostly she remembered her dad being absent a lot of the time, but she’d reasoned it was because he was at work. It was only after Blake had questioned her shortly before the Vytal Dance about her family life and revealed to her the story Yang had shared with her, that she began to question if the happy home life she always perceived she’d had, had more cracks in it then she was aware of.

Uncle Qrow reached out, curling his hand over one of dad’s. As if that was normal. As if they’d done it a million times before. It was weirding her out.

“Point is,” He said, completely unaware of her internal screaming, “We were wrecks. Tai was sick and I spent more time blacking out in alleyways than at home. Neither of us could support each other the way we needed too, so we called an end to it. We decided we wouldn’t try again until things were okay.”

“But you never did try again.” Yang was frowning. Ruby guessed she was probably worrying about herself and Blake.

“Uh. Well. That’s not entirely true.” Their dad said.

Qrow suddenly grinned. “Actually, had you two been a bit older, you probably would have figured it out. Remember that time you girls were bowling down the hallway and the ball went into Tai’s room? And when you went to get it, you found me in his bed and I told you girls I was getting over a hangover? I wasn’t.”

“Wait, what? Why were you still in my room?”

“Because I couldn’t walk!”

“Oh, gross.” Ruby groaned. Her sister made some equally distressed noises while her dad turned a ripe shade of tomato red. Qrow just laughed uproariously at them all.

Yang shuddered. “I could have gone my whole life without knowing that.”

“And I could have gone my whole life without you girls hearing that.” Dad agreed, shoving Qrow’s shoulder. “Stop laughing already. You sound like a donkey.”

“Tai, they’re over eighteen. You can call me a jackass now.”

“I just happen to have some class, unlike you.” Ignoring the childish faces their uncle started making his way, he continued on, “As I was saying, we did try – more than a few times, really. But we kept it hidden from you girls, until we knew things between us would work out. It was important to us that we show you two what a healthy and positive relationship was like so that when you got older, you’d hopefully take our example and find the right person for yourselves. We just, never got that far. It was… complicated.”

“Pff. It was not.” Qrow rolled his eyes. “You got better, I didn’t. Seems pretty straightforward to me.”

“It was so much more than your drinking and you know it. And anyways, you’re way better on that than you were.” Dad refuted.

“Ha! Then don’t let me tell you about Argus.”

His eyes narrowed. “What about Argus?”

“Uh-” He looked towards the clock on the wall. “Whoa, look at the time! Ruby don’t you have a date tonight or something?”

Her sister looked too, then jumped to her feet. “It’s almost 6? Come on Ruby, we haven’t even chosen an outfit!”

“What?” She jerked around. “Are you crazy? How am I supposed to go on a date after all this?”

“Well you can’t cancel the first date!”

“That’s not a rule!” When her sister only rose an eyebrow, she backpedaled, “I-Is it?”

“Ruby.” Her dad’s voice had her turning back to him. “If you really don’t think you’re up to going anymore, you don’t have to. If this guy’s a good one, he’ll understand. Then, we can talk all night if you want. But, those answers aren’t on a time limit either.”

Her uncle nodded. “Yeah. It ain’t like we’re gonna clam up come tomorrow. And we kind of hit you with a lot just now; letting some of that sink in for a few hours isn’t the worst thing you can do.”

Ruby chewed her lip, not wanting to admit how undeniably tempting the offer was. “I just don’t get why all this had to be kept a secret. Didn’t I have the right to know?”

“Of course you did.” Her dad answered. “And I’m sorry we kept it from you as long as we did. We were just so focused on trying to make things feel stable and safe for you girls, that the idea of deliberately throwing another wrench in the mix never seemed like a good idea.”

“Yeah okay,” She said in a tone that implied it was definitely not okay.

The two men shared a worried glance, before Qrow sighed, placing his elbows on the table as he lent forward, “Look kiddo, this was never easy on us either. Kids aren’t born with manuals. And yeah, we definitely screwed up at times. Just ‘cause we’re trying to raise you doesn’t mean we’re suddenly perfect adults. Least of all me.” He rolled his eyes as he said this, as if even he was exasperated with himself. “But you got to trust me when I say any decision we made for you,” He glanced at Yang, “Or you, was always done with the reason that we love you both.”

“I know that! I just-!” She couldn’t stay still anymore. She jumped to her feet, pacing around the length of the kitchen. “I don’t know, I feel like I’m the crazy one here! Why is everyone so calm about this?”

“Ruby-”

Ignoring her dad’s attempt to placate her, she whirled on her sister. “I figured at the very least, you’d be with me on this! Why aren’t you upset?”

“I mean, I guess I am a little?”

“A little?! Don’t you get it? We might not even be sisters!”

Yang stared, her eyebrows rising with understanding. She crossed over to her, saying, “Is that what’s bothering you?”

“Well, yeah!” Ruby said, feeling absolutely silly that she wanted to cry.

She stopped in front of her, placing her hands on her shoulders. “Ruby, say you do go and do this test. And say Uncle Qrow is your dad… why does that have to change anything?”

“I-I don’t,” She sniffled, rubbing away at some tears. “Shouldn’t it?”

“Why? I don’t care what that test says, you’re my little sister. Always. So why do you need to think differently?” Yang urged. “Things only have to change if you want them too. Do you want them to?”

“No!”

“So then what’s the problem?”

She blinked rapidly, giving a watery laugh. “Well when you say it like that, it makes me feel kind of stupid.”

“I prefer slow on the uptake.” Yang joked, tugging her into a too tight hug.

Around her bending ribs, she squawked, “You’re the worst.”

“And you’re the best!” Was the proud chirp before she pulled back, heading for the living room. “Come on, you got a big night ahead of you.”

She nodded, wiping away the rest of her tears. She glanced over at her dad and uncle, who had stood from their own chairs at some point during her mini breakdown, but hadn’t gotten further then around the table. They looked about as uncertain as she felt; but they were still her uncle and dad – even if biologically that may be the other way around. Things hadn’t really changed for them either, had they?

Her dad was still the man who sat with her after school and helped her with her homework or taught her how to focus her aura so she could unlock it for the first time. Someone who had been in the crowd of all her school events, taking pictures as she won awards or got her diploma, and had seen her off at the airstrip the day she left for Beacon. The one she depended on to take care of her when she was ill or walk with her to the cliff on those sad, sad days she missed mom the most. Was still and always her guide, the person who taught her right from wrong and who always encouraged her to be the greatest she that she could be.

Her uncle was still the guy who spent hours with her showing her how to shoot at targets 500 meters away and snuck into her welding class to help her forge Crescent Rose. The one she could count on to take her out for ice cream if she had a bad day or play video games with her all night if she was bored. Knew that even if he had to be away a long time, that he’d write or call when he could, and come back with a gift or two for her and Yang from some cool town or big city he’d gotten to visit. Was still and always her hero, the person she’d tell everyone she wanted to be just like when she grew up.

Neither of them were perfect; that was something she was seeing more and more of as she grew older. But they were here, raising her, watching over her, loving her. That was never going to change. That’s what mattered most.

She hurried over to them, throwing her arms around them both. “We’ll talk tomorrow?”

Her dad’s arm was strong and steady as it encircled her. “Of course. Anytime you want.”

“Go have fun.” Qrow told her, ruffling her hair. “Knock ‘em dead. And if he gets too handsy, take that advice literally.”

“Qrow!”

She giggled stepping back so she could prepare for a quick escape. “Thank you. I love you.”

“We love you too sweetie.” Tai told her fondly – only to immediately shout after her retreating petals, “And no semblances in the house!”

With the sun’s descent, quiet also seemed to descend their home. Ruby was out of the house for the evening and with it being morning in Menagerie, Yang was holed up in her room on Skyria, video-chatting with Blake. It left the first floor to themselves; but the calmness and normalcy was not something Qrow found to be undesirable these days.

The spoon clanked against the tea cup as the last teaspoon of honey was added, before he dropped the utensil in the sink. He grabbed the two cups, heading over to the couch in the living room, handing one to its only occupant.

“Thanks.” Tai gladly took a sip. As Qrow sat beside him, he said, “Ruby handled that way better than I thought she would. Maybe you were right and we should have told her sooner.”

He lent back into the cushions, propping his feet onto the coffee table. “Or fighting magical maidens and immortal witches builds up an intolerance to these kinds of things, and waiting was the right call. We’ll never get the ‘what if’ answer.”

“Guess not.” Tai set his cup aside, before going back to flipping through the scrap book propped in his lap.

Truthfully, after traveling with her from one end of Remnant to the other, Qrow hadn’t expected anything less from Ruby. He wasn’t sure where she got her fortitude from, but her ability to push through even the most adverse of conditions was her most admirable quality. Perhaps it was just that, or maybe the other shoe was just waiting to drop, but he had a feeling things would be back to the status quo before they knew it.

No, it was Yang he was more impressed by. He was certain it would be her yelling at the top of her lungs – especially when it was just another secret being kept from her – but instead, she’d handled it with a rationality he’d never really seen before. He knew, in part, it was because she was striving hard to reign in her quick temper. Not for herself, but for her girlfriend, whose sketchy past romantic relationships made it hard for her to deal with the shouting matches Yang was prone too. All on her own, Yang decided she didn’t want to be a reminder of that past. That’s how he caught her, in a library of one of the towns they had stayed in during their travels, reading up on anger management. When he confronted her, she told him that it was only fair that if Blake was working on her tendency to back down, then she would work on improving herself for her too.

Firecracker was turning into more of a Fire Dud these days, but it was a welcome improvement and today just proved how far she’d come. He was insanely proud of her.

He was also immensely jealous.

Because if she could fix something about herself with only one reason, why did he keep giving up when he had three?

Tai’s sudden laughter shook away his thoughts. “Oh, you remember this day?”

Qrow’s eyes darted towards the entry he was indicating, an amused chuckle bubbling almost instantly. “Yeah.”

The page was decorated with various stickers of smiling fruits and flowers set in patterns that matched well with the photos glued to the pages of them on a picnic. It had been Tai’s birthday and as he tended to want simple things and with it being right at the tail-end of summertime, he had requested a day out with the family. So, they made up a little basket of food, got Yang in her little flower dress, and headed out. Despite being plumper than the watermelon they’d brought along, Summer probably took about three dozen pictures that day – but the four she’d chosen seemed to perfectly highlight the timeline of disaster they were in for.

The first was a posed picture with them all standing together, the backdrop a field of wildflowers they’d chosen to have their picnic in.

The one underneath was a more candid shot of Tai and him stretched out on the blanket, empty plates strewn around them. Qrow had Yang in his hands and was lifting her upwards, making the infant feel like she was an airplane.

The third was one he took. Summer, Tai and Yang were in the flowers, the little girl trying to toddle her way after some butterflies. It would have been nothing more than another charming family photo, if not for the hint of grey clouds inching their way over the tree line behind them.

The last was of him and Tai standing at the top steps of the porch, looking like a pair of wet sheepdogs with the way their hair hung over their eyes. Sheets of rain was coming down behind them, and just to the left was a blur of yellow bounding forward – Yang, seconds away from ruining her dress and splattering mud all across their backs.

Taiyang must have been looking at that one too because he said, “Gods, Yang was such a mess. Summer had to wash her in the sink! I don’t think we ever managed to save her dress, did we?”

“No. I don’t think we did.” Qrow replied distractedly, his mind lost in the past.

It should have been an awful day; but instead, there was nothing but laughter over how ridiculous they all looked or the rush to clean themselves up and put Yang down for her nap. There were kisses shared under a warm shower. The coziness of the three of them wrapped up together in an afghan, sipping hot tea and watching the storm from the bench on the patio.

He could almost smell the rain again. Or feel the weight of Summer leaning against his side as she dozed, tired from the day. Or how his breath caught a little bit when he looked over at Tai, and found himself so caught by how gorgeous he looked at that moment, that all he could do was stare.

Just as he was now.

He traced his eyes over Tai’s gentle visage, from the faint freckles that valiantly held onto some of his youth to the slope of his blue eyes that made him appear so kind and the brightness of his smile as he turned to another page. There were signs of his age of course, in the wrinkles around his eyes, the dimming color of his hair, but his beauty had aged with him. Or maybe Qrow was still just that captivated by him that he’d find him so no matter what he looked like.

Warmth bloomed in his chest, burning like an overheated flame, the love that had once been so prominent in his life warring with the sorrow of everything he’d lost since then. It was hard to bear, and he found that he was tired of feeling it. And perhaps it was that that finally led him to ask, “Do you ever miss us?”

Tai paused, gazing at him searchingly for a few long moments. It felt an eternity before he finally murmured back, “All the time.”

“Me too.” Hope tentatively pulled the next question from him, “Could we try again?”

A hand reached out, larger fingers slipping between his own, brushing against the three wedding rings he wore. Tai lent in close, until their foreheads brushed together and all they could see was each other. “I thought you’d never ask.”

#qrow branwen #taiyang xiao long #ruby rose #yang xiao long #Summer Rose #golden hummingbird #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

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sidhewrites · 4 years

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Chapter 5. Previous Installment found here, summary page found here. Approx. 2800 words. As always, feel free to send Asks or Messages about what’s written or anything you’re curious about.

The rest of the evening was something of a blur. Zorya remembered herself walking out of the hall, of being approached by an attendant saying something. She remembered being given a silver brooch inlaid with amethysts -- the mark of a proper magician, which made no sense. She was a Greater Witch masquerading as a Lesser Witch. Zorya had never had more than two types of magic at her disposal.

She remembered filling out documents walking back to the station in a daze. She remembered Petrovsky saying something to her. She remembered getting changed and getting into bed and doing no work at all.

But all of it was far away. Like someone else was in charge of her body.

None of it felt real.

Three days and a mountain of paperwork later, Zorya had resigned from her post at Leningradsky, and found herself standing outside the Grand Magician’s personal train with a small suitcase in hand carrying all her belongings. It would be the first train she would have boarded since coming to Moscow years ago. Suddenly, everything snapped into sharp focus, and a wave of fear flooded her senses.

“What am I doing?” she asked herself aloud. “What am I doing?”

A crowd stood behind her, various witches in their black coats and hats, and regular workers who were able to escape for just a minute to catch a glimpse of what was going on. Attendants and station workers moved to and fro, loading the cars, asking each other questions, looking about half-helplessly. Apparently, from the snippets of conversation she’d caught, Clare was late again.

Her head reeled.

She was leaving Moscow. She was leaving Moscow in a train belonging to a wealthy, elite man, and going to Paris where she’d study magic under him personally.

There would be no hope for anonymity there. No hope of living a boring, monotonous life where she wouldn’t have to think, wouldn’t have to fight, wouldn’t have to care about anything but her work and if she’d find something to eat the next day. That was simple. Easy. Bearable.

She couldn’t do with more excitement. She couldn’t do with a life filled with people. Not like this.

“What am I doing?” she asked again.

Noski provided no answers. He sat securely in his travel bag. Zorya had all but strapped him down so that just his head was able to poke out and survey his surroundings, ears forward and swivelling with the newness of the crowd.

Zorya felt sick. She turned away from the train -- only for a gentle hand to touch her elbow. She flinched hard, whirled around with wide eyes, one hand raised in defense.

Clare smiled down at her, as gallant and insufferable as ever. “I beg your forgiveness for the unwanted touch, Miss Kosheka, but the train is that way. Shall I take your luggage?”

She couldn’t find the words. Her heart was still racing, old memories still playing through her head. The world was still spinning, but the jostling and high emotions had riled Noski up, and he mowed loudly enough to deter Clare. He sounded far away, as did her voice when she managed to speak. “I can handle it.”

“Of course.” He tipped his hat at her, and looked out at the crowd. “Should we wave goodbye?”

She hated this. She hated him. She hated trains. Zorya needed to sit. She took a step, and the world tipped once more. Clare managed to catch her again, giving her the appearance of simply taking his offered arm. It was a far more elegant display than she would have liked, but, then again, Zorya didn’t want any display at all.

“Don’t worry,” Clare whispered, leaning down just slightly. “Nobody noticed.” He was nearly a foot taller than her, well over six feet, and it threw her off balance. Zorya liked her height, had grown used to looking down at most people, if not being eye-level with them, and it threw her off balance.

She didn’t have it in herself to push back when Clare began to guide her to the train. She half walked, half stumbled up the steps and into a passenger car -- finely upholstered and with electric lighting over the seats. She was as much in awe of the luxury as she was disgusted by it.

Clare waved gallantly to the crowd. “Farewell, farewell my friends. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“Don’t bother!” someone shouted, and scattered laughter rose up among the crowd.

Clare’s grin froze, and he tipped his hat before retreating into the car. He sighed beatifically, and turned his smile on Zorya. “No accounting for taste, I’m sure.”

If it was a joke, Zorya didn’t get it. She still stood in the middle of the car, unsure and out of place, boots tracking soot and dirt wherever she went. It brought up a strange mix of guilt and spiteful pride, knowing how easy it was to mess up such a blatant waste of money -- and to see just how warmly the other witches felt about the Grand Magician. He didn’t belong here -- a shameless man of wealth and excess, flaunting himself among the more level-headed proletariat of Russia.

But at the same time, a little voice in the back of her head reminded her that he was still just a man, underneath the finery. It must have hurt to be mocked like that.

Clare winked, and Zorya decided he deserved any mockery that came his way. “Come along, my dear cinderwitch. Let me give you a tour of my motorized home away from home.”

“I’m a sootwitch,” she said, harsh and unyielding. “And I know what a train is.”

“But of course you do,” Clare allowed. Zorya was sure he was patronizing her. “And yet, I can’t quite believe that you’ve ever seen one quite as grand as this.”

“I don’t like grand things.”

“No doubt you prefer to simply get to work, no? Ah, but I’m afraid we’ll just have to sit in luxury for about five days, Miss Cinderwitch--”

“Sootwitch.”

“--until we arrive at the University of Arkane Studies. Do I dare ask if you want someone to take your luggage for you?”

Zorya frowned. Rolled her eyes.

“Of course not. Come on then, let’s to the sleeper car. I hope you don’t find it too small.”

He approached her with an arm out -- no doubt meaning for her to take it. Zorya simply looked at it instead, half wondering if it would be too cruel to wrinkle her nose at it. But Clare got the hint quickly enough, and chuckled to himself before making his way to the back end of the car. Zorya stomped after him, though any mess she left wasn’t going to last long. With a wave of his hand, Clare magicked the dust and dirt so that it collected itself in the middle of the train car and deposited itself into a nearby waste basket without any fuss.

Damn magicians, ruining her fun.

Zorya followed a few steps behind him, almost surprised to see that Clare opened the door like a normal person, using the latch, rather than waving his hand and having everything done for him. He was careless enough with everything else that she didn’t doubt his hands and perhaps entire arms had succumbed to magic rot years ago. He may as well make it a show now, going from one room to the next.

“This is my car, of course,” he said, gesturing to the finely-detailed wallpaper beside them. “Knock on the wall anywhere if you need anything that the attendants can’t help you with.” He left the statement hanging in the air, apparently waiting for her to say something.

She frowned, eyeing the wall up and down, and grit her jaw before succumbing to curiosity. “Where’s the door?”

Clare’s eyes glittered. He seemed to have been just waiting for the moment that she asked, because he waved her question off with what seemed a very practised nonchalance, and said, “Who needs a door?” And then he winked again.

Zorya could not wait to get away from him.

The very next train car, however, showed a narrow hallway with three doors in the middle of one wall, windows on the other. Clare presented it with a needless flourish. “Et voila. And here is your sleeping cart, Mademoiselle. The door closest to us will be yours, of course, and just past the passenger car whence we came is the dining car. Do please join us for breakfast, won’t you?” He smiled down at her.

Zorya blinked. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t one of your attendants be doing all this for you?”

Clare laughed and shook his head. Zorya didn’t understand what was so funny. “Oh, no doubt, Miss Cinderwitch--”

“Sootwitch.”

“-- But you’ll be glad to know that I intend to treat my first and only apprentice with the respect she deserves. The other three magicians have all been seen to their cars, and you’ll be meeting them soon enough, at breakfast. Oh -- do you prefer your eggs sunny side up, or scrambled?”

“Uh -- I don’t…” Shame burned in her throat. She hadn’t had eggs in years. “I don’t care.”

Clare hummed, with a knowing glint in his eye that Zorya couldn’t stand. He nodded, and smiled that easy smile -- the sort she had a feeling never quite left his face, even in his sleep. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out soon enough, no? But for now, please make yourself comfortable. We won’t be checking into any hotels while the train is pulled into a station, so it’ll be your room until we reach Paris.”

Zorya frowned, but nodded, sliding the door open. She stopped dead at the sight of the room -- spartan, but elegant all the same. The wood was finely polished and gleamed in the early morning light. A sink sat beside a small table and chair, and a shelf loaded up with books sat above the carved wooden bed frame, which itself had been outfitted with a proper mattress. Not a cot, and nothing stuffed with fine goose down like she’d heard about, but finer than anything she’d known in a long while.

It intimidated her. She was almost too afraid to touch anything, soot-stained hands or no.

“Miss Kosheka? Is everything all right?”

Zorya almost didn’t register Clare using her last name, much less the concerned note in his voice -- as if he cared about impressing her, really. But it was Noski who brought her out of her reverie. He shuffled and kicked about enough to squeeze free of the travel bag and leapt up onto the bed. His purring seemed amplified in such a small space as he settled down onto the bed, stretching out and then curling up to luxuriate with a much-needed cat nap.

“You have this car all to yourself, of course. The two other rooms are empty. Ring the silver bell on the table if you need anything.”

“Right, sure.” She nodded, distantly as it began to settle in once more that she was really, properly leaving. This single room, which Clare so easily dismissed dismissed as small, was finer than anything she’d ever had for herself before. She was leaving Russia, the familiar and mundane, the monotony and simplicity, and going to one of the grandest places in the world.

Clare had been going on about the books -- all the latest editions of magical textbooks and three of the latest world-class novels picked by his very own library curators. His bragging was enough to pull her back from the almost premature homesickness and into a more familiar disapproval of the man beside her.

“I will, of course, be taking my tea in the dining car until everyone is together and ready for breakfast. I hope you don’t wait until the food is cold. Until then, cinderwitch.”

“Sootwitch,” came her answer. Correcting him was becoming a fast-forming habit.

But Clare had already turned on his fine heels and was making his way back to the dining car.

Zorya chewed on her words, mulling over whether to spare herself from any more time with hom than necessary, or to risk more conversation in order to prove herself right. In the end, spite won out. “Sir?” she called out.

Clare turned on his fine heel, a bit too eager under his easy smile. “Yes?”

“The attendants don’t know you were late to board the train, do they?”

He laughed again -- a specific laugh that sounded so natural, so easy, that Zorya was sure it meant that he’d been found out. She raised a brow his way, unable to help the hint of a smirk at the corner of her mouth, and shut the door between them.

The sourness, unfortunately, was tempered again as soon as she was alone, and Zorya found herself looking around the room and comparing it to her own meager dorm in the train station. A single chair. And her single chest, which now sat in the middle of this floor, looking shameful and worn-out compared to the fine rug beneath it.

The train lurched to life beneath her feet. Zorya lost her balance, only barely managing to catch herself before falling, and looked up and out the window.

The station moved slowly past -- or rather, the train moved slowly out of the station. There was a strange mixture of turmoil and numbness -- a feeling of being unbearably small and far from home, even if the place she’d called home for the past five years was still visible through the windows.

The train picked up speed, and the Leningradsky pulled away from view. Zorya looked on at the city, buildings moving past, and finally, the emptiness of the Russian countryside took over. Miles and miles of frost-tipped meadows,

Noski pawed at her hand with a quiet meow. He leapt off the bed to glance down the hallway before returning to her side, stepping into his true farm and wrapping his long neck around her twice.

“I feel small, Noski.”

“You are small, my pet, and the world is wide.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“I will catch you if you decide to jump.”

“And will you carry me all the way back?”

He turned his head upside down, blinking, and then pressed his brow against hers. “I promise.”

Zorya shut her eyes, relishing the coldness of his touch, the way he seemed to seep under her skin and freeze the hot fear inside her. But there was no helping the tears welling in her eyes, even as she squeezed her eyes tighter and curled into herself as if to hide from them. Noski wrapped himself around her further, arms and legs and tails, until he was all but shielding her from the world around her. Until she was crying, silently, pathetically, and until she had cried herself out. Only then did he speak.

“You are expected at the breakfast table, little Zorya.” He unwound himself from around her and looked at her, head cocked, tails curled in curiosity. “I wonder what they will make of you.” Noski stretched, and stepped back into the shape of a cat, eyes on the hallway.

“Where are you going?” Panic swelled in her chest, and she rose from the bed, a hand raised as if she had the chance to stop him from going anywhere.

But Noski could say nothing. He simply purred, and traipsed down the train car, in the opposite direction of the dining car.

“Damn it --” Zorya tried to go after him, but she’d just barely made it to the door of her room in time to see him squeeze through the distant door, and out into another car.

“Damn it -- damn -- “ She said again, looking back and forth. They’d come looking for her if she was too late, Zorya made herself realize. And it -- it was strange, knowing people were aware enough of her presence that they’d know she was gone. That they wanted her to be there, even if it was only in an official setting.

Zorya ran a hand over her face -- and then cursed again, realizing that she’d just smeared soot all over herself. Her ears burned, and she clenched her jaw. This was ridiculous, stupid, unnecessary. Why was she even here? What could the Grand Magician of all of Europe want with her?

With another curse, she went back into the room and ignored the marks she left on the faucet as she turned on the sink. Zorya cleaned her face as best she could, fixed her hat, and made her way to the dining car.

Tag List: @ambreeskyewriting@fearlings-lament@maitretmaitresse

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#writeblr #nanowrimo #writing #wip #original fiction #wyrdwitch #wyrdwitch chapter

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goobergamer · 5 years

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Welcome to the Real World, Chpt. 2/?

Fic Summary: ‘The real world’ is Marine Corps slang referring to civilian life after discharge. -(x)

Or, Washington, new and struggling veteran, moves into a duplex where he has a strange and surly neighbor with a penchant for the color red. (Sargington modern war vets AU)

Warnings: No common warnings for this chapter, ask me if you need specific content tagged for!

First chapter on Tumblr here: (x). This chapter crossposted to AO3 here: (x)

The first rain since Wash’s arrival to the house three days prior sees sheets of water falling to the porch steps. It takes him a couple of trips between the kitchen and the rest of the house to realize that what’s falling outside the front window is far heavier than the rain on his other two sides of the complex. Pulling on a jacket and braving the waterfall to reach the bottom of the stairs, he spies a gutter full to capacity with wet leaves, spilling what it can over the rim. Odd that there would already be so many in the summer.

Or perhaps not so odd. Did Stephen say anything about gutter cleaning?

Maybe. Wash’s guess is as good as anyone else’s; physically present he was for their meetings, mentally present? Not so much.

Well, there is someone he can ask now. Sarge has been living there for at least a few months already. He should have had an idea of what maintenance comes with the place.

At Wash’s knock, Sarge’s door swings open a few inches before stopping short, no fewer than three security chains holding it in place. He squints out the gap before recognizing Wash, his expression shifting to one...slightly less suspicious. “Washington.”

“Uh, hi.” Wash feels out of practice in conversations with normal people, let alone a man who’s clearly a fair stretch beyond that. “The, uh, gutter’s overflowing, and I was wondering if they hire someone to do cleanings here?”

“Nope, that’s on us.”

Joy. At least it isn’t a one-person building. “Okay. Do you want to come out now to do it, or we can--”

“No can do,” Sarge interrupts, face impassive. “I don’t do heights.” And he promptly slams the door.

After giving it a long, incredulous stare, Wash walks back to his own side. He has some sense that even if he were to knock again and Sarge actually opened the door, the conversation wouldn’t get much further.

He climbs out an upstairs window onto the porch’s overhang with his makeshift gutter cleaner, a broom. The thought crosses his mind to leave Sarge’s half of the gutter untouched; it would probably still drain from Wash’s pipe, but he would get his point made either way. In the end, however, he brushes the rest of the leaves off the side of the porch. May as well get it while he’s up there instead of being a (well-deserved) asshole; there’s already one frustrating neighbor in the complex, there doesn’t need to be two.

---

Routines are good. Routines are normal. Routines make Wash feel efficient with his time, as opposed to aimless with the amount of it he just can’t fill.

And routines mean that nothing is wrong, that everything can be expected because it is exactly the same as it has been. Wash of course would never lean on that, never let his guard slip, but it’s comforting all the same.

Get up at 6 (though waking up often happens earlier, not by his choice). Out of the shower by 6:30. Coffee on the porch by 7, before the summer heat bears down. Like clockwork. He’s maintained it for two weeks in the duplex now.

Except today, when Wash steps out with his drink, something is wrong. He senses, before he really sees, the moving shape out of the corner of his eye, and jerks his hand back, instinct ready to transform his mug of burning hot coffee into a weapon.

He pauses, thankfully, when the figure is fully in his line of sight; Sarge, sitting on a kitchen chair he must have dragged out, holding his own coffee mug. Apparently unaware of his near brush with second-degree burns, or at least ignoring it, he offers a gruff “morning, Washington,” as a casual greeting.

Wash mentally counts back from 5, straightening up as his heartbeat slows to somewhere within the range of normal. “...Hey, Sarge,” he finally replies, tone clearly conveying his confusion. “...What are you doing out here?”

“A man can’t drink coffee on his own front stoop?” Sarge squints at him, challenging.

Not when you haven’t done it any time before now. “I mean-- I-- Nevermind.” Wash doesn’t need the routine. Sarge doesn’t need to drink his coffee there either, but Wash can already guess who would more easily fold.

With a small “hmph”, Sarge nods, seemingly victorious in whatever nonsense he thought was going on. He takes a sip of his coffee, and after another moment of staring, Wash leans his elbows on the railing and imitates the action.

The two remain there, silently drinking and watching the road, until Sarge’s cup finally drains. He promptly stands up, nodding at Wash when the movement draws his eye, and returns to his apartment.

Wash doesn’t know what to make of it. Sure, not everyone lives on a schedule, but why change it up this particular day? There’s nothing special about it. It’s no cooler or hotter than usual. No more or less sunny.

There’s no special reason he shouldn’t, either, he reminds himself. But the thought had still gnawed at him every time Sarge shifted and Wash had to work not to twitch.

It makes more sense--not much, but more--when the next morning, Sarge is back out there again.

---

A little over a week more, and Wash has made tenuous peace with Sarge’s now daily presence during his morning coffee. They greet each other, and say goodbye when one or the other clears out, but not a whole lot is said in between. It would almost be easy to ignore him there once they’re settled in...if Wash isn’t growing more curious about Sarge, against his better judgement.

He knows, logically, it’s the water in the desert phenomenon; beyond the cashiers who ring him up for his once-weekly grocery trips, he hasn’t had much engagement with people over the past month. While that’s by his preference, it still isn’t what he was previously used to, sleeping in tents or on floors packed with five or six other people he had been training with or fighting beside daily for years. However much of a closed door he is, Sarge is still a little bit of necessary human interaction.

Today is sticky-hot, even so early in the morning, and Sarge emerges after Wash, sporting a red tank top and a worn pair of cargo shorts.

“Washington.”

“Sarge.”

With formalities out of the way, Sarge settles into his chair. Wash intends to turn toward the road, hazy as the dew burns off the asphalt, but before he can something catches his eye. Though there is a rough-hewn scar on Sarge’s nearest shoulder, Wash’s eyes are drawn to a splash of color above it. Tattoos of military origin are typically recognizable in style alone, but this one in particular is startlingly familiar, with its similarity to the Recon Jack skull tattooed on Wash’s chest.

They aren’t a match, though, and Wash’s question is answered when he reads the banner script beneath it: ‘USAF Combat Control’.

“You were special ops,” Wash realizes aloud. He isn’t familiar with many standard military units outside of the Marines, but he has at least a passing knowledge of the high-level special operations forces he could have come across on collaborative assignments. The Air Force’s Combat Control Teams, trained on combat support and communication behind enemy lines, are one of them.

Sarge’s brow furrows at the sudden break in the silence, before he follows Wash’s line of sight to the tattoo. He huffs, as though disgruntled that Wash has somehow noticed something completely out in the open. “You’re damn right I am.”

The skull is surrounded by two curling wings, with a parachute in the backdrop. I don’t do heights. So either he had been lying to get Wash to clean the gutters alone...or there’s something significant there.

Not that it’s exactly his business. He plays it safe, asking, “how many jumps?”

“More than you.”

Likely true. Definitely frustrating in its evasiveness. “I don’t recall mentioning what I did.”

“And I don’t recall making a guess! My answer still stands.” But it doesn’t take long for Sarge to start poking for more info. Perhaps Wash hasn’t been the only one curious. “You don’t get scars that big by paper pushing. Unless they’ve started handing out medals for paper cuts.”

Maybe Wash being straightforward in a gesture of goodwill will encourage it in his cagey neighbor. Besides, it’s not like he feels any inclination to hide the info Sarge is after. It’s his past, for better or for worse. “Marines. Force recon.”

Sarge grunts in reply, but his begrudging recognition seeps through. Wash had trained in spec ops as well, with an emphasis on reconnaissance, gathering intel deep within enemy territory. Though Sarge had probably parachuted more, as he’d said, it would have been for his role’s focus and his age. Wash has his own areas of greater experience he could claim. They’re on fairly equal footing, as far as things go.

“Awful young to be out of the game now, after all that training,” Sarge comments, another probe. Wash turns his attention to his coffee, now growing lukewarm; while he appreciates that he’s gotten Sarge talking, that isn’t first full-length conversation material by a longshot.

“You aren’t that old, yourself,” he finally evades.

Sarge barks a laugh at that, but apparently his own discharge isn’t first conversation material either, because he drains the last of his coffee and waves Wash goodbye for the day.

A/N: Sarge's shoulder tattoo: (x)

Wash’s shoulder tattoo: (x)

#rvb #red vs blue #wttrw #welcome to the real world

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bubble-tea-bunny · 6 years

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shadow and soul

[arthur curry x reader]

author’s note: was working on some other fic, wasn’t really feeling it, so then i wrote this. i’ve been wanting to write for arthur again for aaaages and i am so happy i finally have lol

word count: 2,312

More than once he has seen you standing on the shore, gazing out at everything and nothing. It’s usually in the middle of the night, when everyone is asleep. And you stay there undisturbed, toes curling in the cold sand, hair blown back by the breeze. Sometimes it’s braided and the stray strands billow gently. The braids are never done neatly, immaculately, but are, in contrast, of a lazy nature, big and loose and relaxed. He likes the way it looks on you.

He watches you from a distance, in the water, peeking his head up only enough so that he can set his eyes on you. He wonders what you think about, every night you’re out here. Maybe it’s the same thing, or maybe it’s many, and this is the only time you can put the thoughts together without feeling like your brain will melt. He understands the way it feels. He does that too, finds a quiet place to calm down and be able to hear himself think. To be a king is no small matter. Sometimes he wishes the mantle had fallen upon the shoulders of another. But it’s during the moments very much like the ones he finds you in, that he understands it is his responsibility to bear, his duty to undertake the monumental task given to him. He’s playing the cards he’s been dealt. There’s no use dwelling in the what-ifs.

The moon is full tonight, and the light bounces off the water and your face. You’re sitting on one of the large rocks. It doesn’t look all that comfortable to Arthur, for it’s jagged and sharp in some places. It would be entirely too easy to slice skin if one were to place their hands in the wrong spot. But the way you’d settled upon it shows practice. You place your hands in seemingly all the right places as you climb up, and get into a position he guesses might be more comfortable than he assumes. You certainly don’t look bothered.

Even from a distance he can tell you’re tired. More so than usual anyway. You tend to look fatigued when you’re out here to begin with, and he doesn’t blame you, considering the time. But he knows that the exhaustion in your eyes is from stress. About what, he can’t even begin to presume. There’s a plethora of reasons. He has no idea who you are and the sorts of issues you might have to deal with.

Though he hopes to know you, in some way, but he holds back anytime he considers moving closer to shore and revealing himself. Part of it is because he doesn’t want to frighten you. He has no idea how you’d react. The other part is that Atlantis remains far removed from those on land, for its safety. It’s the lost city to everyone else, and it will remain that way because should knowledge spread of its existence, there’s no question it would be invaded. Atlantis has thrived because it remains contained, and as king, it is his obligation to ensure it stays that way. Still, the more days that go by, he’s truly contemplating if letting just one person know of it would have any negative consequences. Because every time you’re out here, and he’s watching from afar, he feels like he’s growing closer to you despite not even knowing your name.

It’s more of an accident than anything, how he had come to finally approach you. He hadn’t anticipated how sharp your hearing would be, hadn’t ever considered it to be something to be wary of until one evening, he shifts around in the water just a tiny bit, and the lack of a breeze makes everything quiet, so when you hear the way the water moves to accommodate him, you know something is out there. He freezes the moment you realize this, wondering if you would let it go. But your curiosity gets the best of you, and so you speak up: Is someone there?

When the words have left your mouth, you seem to shrink a little, seemingly embarrassed. It looks as if you’ve just spoken to thin air. And he contemplates letting it be just that, letting you believe you merely imagined something. Several more seconds of silence pass, and you look like you’re about to resign to it and resume getting lost in your thoughts, but in that short window, there’s a part of Arthur that tells him to move, to go to you. Because he’d always been hoping to and it would be dumb to squander a perfectly good opportunity. He’s his own advisor this time around, and evidently, the right decision is to show himself. So he does, swimming a little closer.

Your head perks up when you hear the water shifting again, and your eyes scan the length of it in search of the disturbance. You spot Arthur rather quickly with the help of the moonlight, and your head tilts as the two of you simply watch each other. You wonder who he is, how he’s gotten there, because you hadn’t seen anyone go into the water in the time you’ve been out here, and it’s been a while. Had he come from the sea? Slowly you uncross your legs and slide off the rock, feeling the sand slide against the soles of your feet as you walk over. You come to the edge where dry and wet sand meet, toes resting on that line.

Arthur can see it in your gaze, the invitation to approach, to come say hello. You don’t seem scared. He comes up to depths shallow enough for him to set his feet down, and he walks the rest of the way, feeling the way the water tries to fight against him as he breaks through it. It sloshes around his legs and drips from the ends of his hair in lonely drops. He comes to a stop when he’s completely out of the water. Neither of you says anything right away. He’s not even sure where to begin if he were the one to speak first. Because what he did just now, is doing, is exactly what he’s not supposed to do. But it just felt so hard to stay away forever, and even he didn’t have the willpower for that.

It’s almost otherworldly, your capacity to do such things to such people as him. From the second he’d first set his sights on you, he wanted to know you. And even if it had gone against his better judgment, deep down, he was willing to deal with any consequences that might follow. He’s not sure he’s even inclined to call it “better” judgement, because maybe coming to the shore to meet you was the better decision. Maybe it means something. Maybe it means everything. When you smile softly at him, the warmth of that curve seeming to brush up against him, like the ghost of a hug, he thinks that yes, maybe it does.

You’re the princess of the kingdom next to the ocean, and he tells himself it’s no wonder you seem so tired when you’re out here. There’s a lot on your shoulders as well, as you protect your own kingdom and prepare to one day assume the title of queen. The word feels as heavy as your chest seems to get when you think ahead to the future. He never expected for something like this to level the field between you two. He hadn’t ever speculated whether you might be nobility as well. But he tries to ease your mind as much as he can, telling you that when the time comes, you’ll be ready. What he doesn’t say is that it never gets easier. He doesn’t have to say it though. You can see it in his eyes, and you understand, and you let the subject go as you lapse into a comfortable silence.

He’s ruler of the seas but you’re parts of the water he’s never ventured to before, the depths even he has not traversed. And he slides his hands along your curves, along the soft skin, exploring, learning. His thumb runs over your bottom lip and he can feel the heat of your breath on his fingers. Some people wonder, in a fashion mostly whimsical, if perhaps those trenches too far down to explore safely should lead to some alternate universe, some other galaxy, as if the secret to propelling through light years’ worth of space wasn’t to go up but to go down, to the portals waiting for them, as they have been since the dawn of time. Arthur swears he can see the twinkling of infinite universes in your eyes, and he’s thinking those speculations just might be right.

No one knows about this, about you two. And you’d both prefer it to remain that way. You can’t tell your father, because Atlantis isn’t supposed to be real. It’s not supposed to be anything more than a city from a storybook. And Arthur can’t tell anyone in his court, even his most trusted friends, because he’s not supposed to be making contact with outsiders, especially not contact of this nature. Love made things complicated. But he continues to love you anyway, in the secret places between the shadow and the soul. You’re always there to meet him.

“Will you ever show me Atlantis?” you inquire quietly one night. The moon is nothing but a crescent hanging in the center of the sky. It reminds him of your smile.

“One day.” Arthur nods and glances down at you. “You can swim with all the fish, and you can find a home in the water.” A home in the water with me.

You grin, and there’s a faraway look in your eyes, as if you’re imagining what that would be like. You’re wondering how far in the future that might be, and wishing it were now. But patience is something you’ve been working on, a virtue emphasized by your father as you learn more and more about how to rule. So you figure you can wait a little longer.

“A little longer” passes startlingly quickly. Because there’s an evening you come to Arthur in tears, and it’s with a trembling voice that you tell him you’ve been betrothed to a prince of a nearby region. The marriage is a means to secure an alliance. Nothing more. Nobility and love don’t usually go hand-in-hand, that much is to be expected when there are political implications to be taken advantage of, and maybe at one point you wouldn’t have much cared, maybe you would’ve come to love this prince in time, in your own way, but now you know you can’t possibly do that. Not when the two of you are conversing politely in the courtyard on a sunny afternoon and your mind is already thinking of the night to come, of the one who will be waiting for you on the shore.

I want to run away. It’s a shaky whisper, and Arthur’s heart squeezes as he holds you close. He promises you will. As he comforts you, running his fingers through your hair to soothe you, he’s thinking how to bring this up the court back in Atlantis. He can’t catch them unawares, but he also knows deliberations about allowing you in would be tedious and lengthy, and that’s time he doesn’t have.

You sit up so you can look up at him when you’ve calmed down enough. There are dried tears staining your cheeks and your eyes are puffy. Your voice is quiet and strained from the crying as you begin to speak, as you admit to him that you’d dreamed of a figure in the water long before he’d approached you that very first night. You dreamed about it and wondered as you came to the beach to think if maybe it was a sign, a telling of what the future had in store for you. You drew this faceless figure in the margins of all your books. Because you were always in the margins of my mind. There’s no skirting around it—he’s the one who’d come to you in your dreams before he’d come to you on the shores of this beach on that night that seems so far in the past now.

You lean into him again and his arms wrap around you as he thinks about the things you’ve just said. You murmur that your heart hurts from how much you love him, that you’re glad it does, because it’s the surest way to get you to understand. You know nothing more confidently than what you feel for him. Everything carries me to you.

It’s those five words that compel Arthur to make his decision on the spot. He looks you in the eyes and says you won’t be stuck here; he swears that to you. You’re not meant for this place. He’ll deal with the court after you’re in Atlantis with him, and he’ll ensure your place within the state and among its people.

And so the night before the ceremony, you run away. He offers you his hand, and you take it, and he guides you into the depths from which he’d first emerged to come say hello. They’ll send ships, sure, to find you and fight for you and get you back. But they will be ships with no destination or target. After all, as far as anyone else beyond you is concerned, Atlantis is nothing but make-believe. Maybe you are too, to some extent. Maybe you’ve escaped from the pages of this tale and have been spending your whole life trying to find your way back. And Arthur is right there, guiding you, until you’re where you’ve always been meant to be.

#arthur curry x reader #arthur curry imagine #aquaman x reader #aquaman imagine #jason momoa x reader #jason momoa imagine #Arthur Curry #aquaman #Jason Momoa #justice league #justice league imagine #DC comics #dc comics imagine #bubble-tea-bunny

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reddustdiary-blog · 5 years

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Here we go...the Red Dust Diary begins.

I’ve never considered myself to be overly ambitious. Definitely not very brave. I have always had quite simple and humble aspirations for my life. Family, friends, happiness. Some art for my walls. I’ve never wanted my name in lights or a mansion as my address. Maybe one day I’d like to have two bathrooms and enough space to go out to the clothesline naked without scaring my neighbours, but otherwise I’m not too extravagant! So this change in our lives seems rather left field. Who knew one day I’d uproot our lives and leave everyone and everything I’ve ever known to chase work? I’m a teacher by trade, graduating back in 2010, but I never like to call myself one. It seems a bit fraudulent to call myself a teacher because I got my degree and not long after decided I wanted a baby of my own, so we welcomed our little Maverick. Then with almost uncanny precision we added his brothers Marshall and Murray to the mix at 2 year intervals after that. With three little boys under the age of 5, I was content. I loved my life as a stay at home Mum, and I’ve always felt so grateful I had that opportunity. But until some relief work in 2018, I had never worked as a teacher in a paid capacity, and the concept of starting now was enough to make me break out in hives! Every year that passed made teaching seem farther away, and I started to wonder how and when I’d ever do it. Being a stay at home mum was hard some times, but starting a career after years at home was downright frightening. So here we are in 2019 and my family of five are moving from the safe and familiar Sunny Coast and heading for the red dust and hot winds of Julia Creek in Outback North Queensland. Nearly 18 driving hours away from every address I’ve ever had. Talk about jumping in head first. I’ll be the Kindy teacher there this year, and my husband is a Linesman, so together we both managed to secure jobs in this little town of just over 500 people. And I’m excited to teach, excited to actually do it after years of wondering how I ever would, and excited to do it in a place that is unlike anything else I’ve ever known. It’s an adventure to be sure, even if it’s a bit terrifying at the same time! I hope I don’t stuff it up! Leaving was a hard decision though. Oh how we laboured over the decision! Should we stay, should we go? What about the boys? Would they be okay? Would we all be able to make friends? Would our hearts manage to not shatter into a million pieces to leave all our loved ones behind? Would they forget us if we left for a few years? Would time and distance erase us from their lives? Man, I really hope not. I am still haunted by insecurities about all of these things. Leaving was so brutal, goodbyes tortured me into wanting to hide under my covers and just pretend it was all just a crazy dream, not our reality. Even when I stood in our empty house, our first family home, I couldn’t quite believe we were doing this. Like holy shit, are we actually DOING this? Really?! Now as I sit in a Motel in Rockhampton, our first stop in our big move, I’m still in disbelief that we have left. It’s surreal on every level. It’s funny the things that are bringing me comfort though as we make this huge change. My travel mug in my hands. The ridiculous indoor plants I refused to leave behind that I’m trying to keep alive wrapped in wet newspaper. My irritating as hell cat who purrs like a tractor and hates to travel. My three year old who waits until we go out to poo (like really? You couldn’t have done that at home mate?). Kit Kat Gold chocolate. Some things don’t change even when your postcode does. Well the chocolate will change because I doubt they stock it where I’m going, so I better enjoy it now! The truth is it’s not just work we are chasing out there in the hot sun and red dust. It’s adventure, the chance to try something new, to test ourselves, to experience something big and exciting as a family before our kids are too old to live in tiny places without a high school. It’s the chance to, for the first time, make smarter career choices for me. To finally acknowledge that the right path isn’t always the safe one, and that sometimes playing it safe is too dangerous to do any longer. I am so lucky my husband is so keen for this wild ride too, and so eager to give me my time in the sun (a really, REALLY hot sun!) because there is no way I’d be brave enough to do this crazy change without him. He has always been the daring and spontaneous one, while I just try desperately not to die. I usually just cry and hold on tight to him as we jump into whatever madness he’s jumping into! This time we are holding hands as we jump, while our three boys climb all over us and run rings around us, and generally make things louder and crazier and way more beautiful. So here we go. Julia Creek beckons - in two more days our new town will be there to welcome us, the prickles probably poking through our thongs and the sun scorching through my clothes adding some instant freckles to skin that belongs in Scotland or Ireland (somewhere it rains most of the time) not the outback. And while I’m scared beyond belief, a funny bubbling excitement keeps nipping at the heels of my fear, and like a new puppy it won’t go away. Here’s hoping that excitement stays when I’m confronted with my mustard coloured house that has no grass. Eliza x

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twowish · 6 years

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Chapter 1: Your Ride is Here

Two wishes: that's what everyone gets. Make one at twelve, one at twenty-four, and at twenty-five, one of them would finally be granted.

But what did a twelve-year-old know about wishing for a twenty-five-year-old?

Noelle just wanted to fly.

So, as she neared twelve and it was soon time to make her first wish, that was her simple request. Others her age planned to ask for far more fantastical things, like super strength or the ability to manipulate plant life, so Noelle often felt like her wish was inadequate. Her parents and other adults didn't help in this regard with their gentle advice to ask for something practical; something that might secure her future, like mathematical genius.

But wishes had to be genuine or they'd be rejected, and for Noelle nothing was more honest than her desire for flight.

The entire wish making process was difficult, scary, and exciting. Or, at least, everything leading up to it was. It comprised a lot of playground talk, and older children would tell younger ones stories of the monster that hears your wishes. Others said it was a ghost, some said alien, her own grandmother once told her it was probably god. It's name varies from place to place, but its most common one is The Avis. You only speak to this being to make your wishes; twice you’d be in its presence and no more. Wars had been fought and religions had been formed in The Avis's name.

Noelle thought she'd know for sure what it was once she'd made her first wish, but instead she only came to understand why it was so undefinable.

At the exact hour of the start of her twelfth year, it happens. At 9:13AM she was sitting in the backseat of her parents car on the way to a birthday camping trip, a new scarf her mother had crocheted sitting in her lap. It had one big, light blue stripe, another yellow one, and a smaller white one separating them. It reminded her of a sunny day. She’d only had it since her mother completed it at 9:02, and handed it to her from the front of the car, but already it was her most favorite possession. Her hands were still lovingly petting it when at 9:14 she falls into a trance.

It's dark and there's nothing around her, but she knows someone - or something - is there. However, this isn't terrifying, but rather, comforting. A voice somehow speaks to her without making a sound. She can't tell if it's male or female, or if it's even human. It's familiar, yet strange. It's everywhere, but nowhere, and still there is nothing to see but darkness.

It's time. What is your first wish? The Avis asks.

Noelle hesitates. This is her last chance to change her mind. What else could she ask for? She'd once heard that someone had wished to go back in time to see their dog that had suddenly passed away. A boy in the grade above her told her that time requests were rarely granted, but possible. Should she ask for that? Her grandmother died last year. Surely even at twenty-five she'd want to see her grandmother again.

No. You cannot wish for that. The voice says, reading her thoughts.

Another lie the older kids had told her then. Panic is starting to creep in as Noelle scrambles for more ideas. She'd finally come to terms with what she wanted, but now that she was in the moment, her doubts are overbearing.

What were the rules? Because, of course, there must be rules; to wish for anything at all would be chaos. Could she remember all the rules? Which ones were even true? Which ones could be bent? You can't wish harm, you can't wish to rule, you can't change the course of history, you could wish for something for someone else but those were truly rare, you can't wish to-

You know what you want. The Avis interrupts her thoughts. Say it.

"I wanna fly!" Noelle blurts out. And it's true. She doesn't care how it happens, be it wings, levitation, floating, a jetpack, anything. This wish was the truth and it was the one she'd come back to time and time again, so how could she ever say anything else?

Accepted.

She opens her eyes and she’s back in the car with her parents. Her mother welcomes her back with a smile as bright as the scarf in her hands. Noelle smiles back, feeling relieved and grownup. She’d finally made her first wish.

At 9:24 there is an accident. So much is lost in those few moments, including Noelle’s desire to fly.

____

One month before her twenty-fifth birthday, Noelle stands outside what was formerly her apartment. Now, like the job she quit and the possessions she sold, it's nothing but a shell she's leaving behind. Years of work and research have led to this. Nothing left now, but the money she's carefully collected and items she decided to keep in an overstuffed backpack hanging on one shoulder. The ends of her scarf blow in the wind and she pulls her jacket closer to her.

This was it; she was finally going to do this. How many times had she imagined what this moment might be like? Sometimes it felt like she couldn’t wait to set her plans into motion, and other times she wondered if she could really go through with it at all. Right now she feels both of those things. There’s a nauseating combination of anticipation and anxiety crawling up her spine as she looks about this Seattle street one last time.

It’s busy, as always, with people hustling about. Noelle watches two men standing on the sidewalk opposite her. One was much older, while the other looked about her age. Suddenly the older one dissolves before her eyes, his form fizzling out in a cloud of lights. Then the lights reform and the man is standing beside her, already placing his hands around his mouth and yelling to the younger one, “Now you try!” A grandfather showing his grandson how to use his newly granted teleportation abilities. Funny how often members of the same family would wish for the same things.

The man across the street looks hesitant, his shoulders high and tense. Then, with a look of great concentration, he too dissolves...

And reappears atop a car stopped at a red light in the middle of the road, missing his mark.

The window of the car rolls down and the driver’s head pokes out. The woman begins berating the man standing on the roof of her car and as she does so, her neck continues to elongate, stretching out from the window until she’s face to face with him. He quickly climbs off the vehicle, nearly falling, and retreats to the sidewalk where his grandfather is standing. The woman’s head, still glaring at the pair of them, recoils back inside as the light turns green and she drives away.

There’s a shadow above Noelle and she glances up to see a slim woman flying by, her insect-like wings iridescent and translucent in the sun. Noelle reflexively looks away. Flying is a common wish, but it still irks her every time she sees it. Couldn’t her twelve-year-old self have wished for anything else? She’d even take a boring wish, like being incredibly good at doing taxes, over flight. But, that’s why she’s here, right?

She grabs her phone from her pocket, presses a button, and the screen brightens. A still frame of a man stares back at her - a video she’d paused earlier. His eyes are exceptionally friendly and warm, as is his smile. He’s got long dreadlocks tied back behind his head and he’s wearing his signature galaxy print shirt. In front of him is a painting of a bright orange and yellow bird - mercifully perched and not flying. His hands are frozen over the canvas in mid-sweep of a brushstroke.

Only a few seconds left on the video. Noelle hits play, and his hand continues its motion.

“Just one step at a time,” the man says, the words popping up in closed captions. His voice is smooth, soothing, and calming, though she can’t hear it after leaving the quietness of her apartment. Still, she could imagine it in her head perfectly - she’d listened to him so many times.

The man’s username below the video is Quasar. He’s known for making videos that have an almost sedative effect. In each he talks slowly, but confidently to the viewer while doing artistic activities like painting or sculpture. His movements are always precise and fluid, with every brushstroke always seeming to go right where he intends.

They might seem silly, but the videos are extremely popular, making Quasar nearly a household name. Plus, they were good for easing anxiety or insomnia.

There’s a rumor that he’s an Augur - someone granted a wish early at the age of twelve. For Augurs, the wish is always the same: the power of persuasion. Noelle had heard that they can convince anyone to do anything, though she’s never seen this firsthand. She’s never even met one; most haven’t. They are extremely rare with only two or three alive at any one time. When one passes, another is born somewhere.

They’re said to have a special connection to The Avis, and many of them become religious leaders. For as much as Quasar’s videos have developed a cult-like following, he isn’t that.

Still, people swear up and down that Quasar’s calming videos are the result of him being an Augur. Maybe he’d merely wished for internet fame, and this was how it manifested. Surely if he were truly an Augur, it would be more widely known. She would know, given all the digging she’s done on them.

Though the videos calm her, they do not always have the same effect on her compared to her aunt, who’d recommended them. High-strung aunt Darcy would be completely mellowed out after a couple Quasar videos. Noelle was mostly just more able to focus or at least reassured. Relaxed yes, but not quite the zen state aunt Darcy achieved.

Regardless, Noelle’s grateful for the videos and watches them on occasion when she's anxious, like now. Most things she could keep a level head about, but this? This trip and what it means? How can she not be nervous about that?

She’s going to ensure the wish she’d made at twelve will not be granted. It had taken years to get here, all to make sure she will never fly.

Flying. She chased away the images of the woman who’d buzzed by earlier. Sometimes even if she so much as thought too hard about heights or flight she’d shiver. Nightmares where she endlessly falls are frequent. Sometimes it’d make it hard to sleep - another instance where Quasar’s videos came in handy.

“One step at a time,” the mini Quasar on her phone screen continues, “and we’ll get there. Don’t matter how long it takes. All that matters is that we get there.”

The video concludes and Noelle returns to the home screen. Right, one step at a time. Now, it’s time to take the first step in her plan.

Inhaling, Noelle opens an application called Fun Ride Timez. A map appears with a pin on her location. Tapping through options, she requests the nearest car to take her as far as the app will allow.

A notification pops up. Your ride's on its way! Your driver's name is Felix. A tiny virtual car begins moving towards her pin on the screen. The driver's name sits below the map along with a countdown to his arrival. Noelle taps on the name and scrolls through the reviews left on the driver's profile. His rating is two stars out of five. It doesn't look good.

Literally the worst Fun Ride Timez driver there is.

I dunno. He's ok.

This man has an actual wild animal in the car with him.

How is he still a driver? See this is why no one uses FRT.

Omg that last person called it FRT. I can't believe how close that is to fart. I never realized. Anyway, yeah, this guy is a disaster.

Yeah he's just bad. He's got like a possum or something with him. Or is it opossum?

I earn $4435 a week working from home! Follow the link to find out how!

The only music he would play was Belinda Carlisle and Cyndi Lauper... I asked if he had anything else at all and he made me get out of the car.

I jumped out of the car. While it was moving.

Well these people are all just awful! I had a fine time and I enjoyed the music. This was the music I listened to when I was his age! He reminds me of my son.

He went into waaaay too much detail on what's involved in operating on a dog's eye and I was made to be very uncomfortable.

Just cancel your ride and find another driver.

No, not good at all, but maybe this was useful. Truthfully she's going to need someone desperate. With these reviews and ratings, people probably often cancel rides on him, so maybe he'd be willing to take her up on her offer. She'd rather not continually switch cars and drivers, so if she can manage it, she's going to convince this one to take her further than her specified location. The less shuffling around she has to do, the better.

The problem was convincing. She could lie - make up some more believable story that would enlist some stranger in her meticulously planned road trip - but, she’d never been good at lying.

“Ah, Noelle,” she heard the memory of her aunt Darcy say in her head. “So pragmatic you are, just like your mother, my sister.”

Aunt Darcy raised her after the accident - a feat she wasn’t always prepared for. Her aunt is awkward, but friendly; always outgoing, even if everyone around her is staring at her oddly. She’s so bubbly and strange, like a drink flavor you weren’t sure should be carbonated. Noelle adores her, despite the fact that she’s always comparing her to her deceased parent.

The phrase “your mother, my sister,” begins so many conversations with aunt Darcy. She says the words so often they’ve lost their meaning. They feel like a royal title her aunt has bestowed on her beloved lost sister - a sister that she insists Noelle is so very like.

Noelle doesn’t mind the comparison, but she wonders how much of it is true. Her memories of her mother are bright and cheery and Noelle often doesn’t feel that way, even if her hair is as sunshine yellow as Your Mother, My Sister.

Aunt Darcy is a librarian, and, how could she not be with the wish she was granted? She can call books to her and they fly towards her open hand with amazing speed. She can put them back in their proper place in much the same way. She sashays around the library with her huge glasses and purple shawl (another crocheted gift from Your Mother, My Sister) sending books this way and that.

She is, unfortunately, a bit clumsy with this gift. The other librarians set up warning signs when aunt Darcy is working. They urge patrons to watch their heads lest they get smacked with a book.

Noelle had spent so much time growing up in that library - It’s where her plans for this day had begun.

Aunt Darcy’s wish also made her a proficient researcher - a beneficial side effect. She can track down just about any info you please and Noelle used this to her advantage, despite protests.

“Ah, Noelle,” another Aunt Darcy catchphrase. “You know, even if you get wings you could just stay grounded! Is all this really necessary? Maybe we could work on finding ways to... come to terms with this instead? No? Ha! Still as stubborn as your mother, my sister. Alright, what you’re looking for should be here.”

Aunt Darcy is supportive, always, even if she doesn’t fully understand, like when it came to Noelle’s love of horror movies. She’d cover her eyes throughout almost entire run times, but she’d take her niece anyway. Every subtitled showing of the latest gory scare fest, they’d be there.

There was a third thing the accident had taken besides her parents and will to fly: Noelle is nearly deaf in her right ear.

She’s worn a hearing aid for years, which helps, but it’s still nowhere near the same as before the accident. In quiet places, like her aunt’s library, it’s easier. There, she can focus, hear, and usually make out what people are saying. Crowds, loud machinery, and noisy scenes like this busy street are more difficult.

Aunt Darcy had taken notice of her frustrations early on. By now, Noelle’s fully adapted to being hard of hearing, but this adjustment wasn’t always easy, especially not at first. Classmates were less than understanding, often telling her that she now “talked too loud,” and they grew tired of repeating themselves for her.

One day in the library after school, her aunt came and sat with her at the table where she’d been reading. Aunt Darcy placed a paper on the table and gently slid it towards her, giving her a thoughtful look. “Would you like to do this? We can both enroll.” Aunt Darcy learned to be easy to understand in a way that wasn’t condescending - always facing Noelle, and always at her normal speaking pace - no exaggerated slowness or yelling her words the way the children at school did on the playground or in the cafeteria.

Noelle picked up the paper. It was an ad for American Sign Language classes.

This opened up a new way for her and her aunt to communicate. It was another in a new box of tools she was learning to use. She’d utilize different things depending on the situation, be it spoken word, sign language, text, or pen and paper. Her aunt would watch her for clues on how she felt like communicating at any given moment and respond accordingly. If her aunt were here now, they probably would have signed amid all the noise.

But Aunt Darcy is nowhere near here. She’d stayed back in her library, while Noelle had gone off to college in Seattle. School might have gone better if it weren’t for the one thing that was always on Noelle’s mind: thwarting this wish.

That had become obsession to the point that she ignored schoolwork. She’d done much the same throughout high school too, but that seemed somehow easier to manage. While at college, she’d reached a breakthrough and she had to follow through with it, no matter what the cost, even school. In any case, there would be time for that later.

She’d stayed in Seattle even after dropping out - it was crucial to what she’d found. She got a small apartment and took whatever jobs she could find working from home, carefully planning and saving money in preparation.

All of this - everything - has led to the silver car coming to a stop in front of her now. Her phone vibrates with a new notification. Your ride is here!

Noelle takes one steadying breath. She’s ready for this.

She opens the door and is greeted by the voice of Cyndi Lauper loudly singing, “Flashback, warm nights. Almost left behind. Suitcases of memories-” The driver inside turns off the music.

Noelle begins climbing into the car, but the driver doesn’t look at her. He stays staring straight ahead, and says in a bored tone that she strains to make out while the door’s open, “Hello and thank you for choosing Fun Ride Timez. I’m your driver, Felix, and- okay you’re sitting in the front seat. I guess that’s happening.”

Noelle moves a bag, a water bottle, and other assorted items to the back, so she can sit properly in the front passenger side. She shoots him a perturbed look at his not so friendly greeting, but he still hasn’t turned his gaze toward her. She closes, the door, making sure not to shut it on her scarf.

She knew the items in the seat were meant to discourage passengers from sitting there, but sitting up front with him might make it easier to correctly hear him. She could have sat in the back and tried to catch any missed words by reading his lips in the rearview mirror, but that was always so exhausting and inaccurate.

Felix continues his obviously corporate mandated monologue as she clicks her seat belt into place and the car pulls away from the curb. “We here at Fun Ride Timez hope you enjoy your ride and leave our fine driver a four star review. Be sure to recommend Fun Ride Timez to your friends for a discount code. Yada yada yada and so on and so forth.”

Noelle looks around the car. A couple of the reviews had mentioned a “wild animal” but she doesn’t see anything. It’s just your average, relatively clean, reasonably new, four-door car. No animals in sight, wild or otherwise. He’s yet to turn the music back on, keeping the car mercifully quiet.

She turns to Felix. His eyes are still immovably forward. He doesn’t seem interested in engaging with her at all, but she needs him to if she’s going to sell him on her plan. This wasn’t exactly her forte. The ferocity with which she chased her goal didn’t leave much time for socializing. What would Aunt Darcy do? She was so good at making conversation in her own strange way. Noelle decides to go with discussing his music choices. “So… Cyndi Lauper?”

For the first time Felix glances at her for just a moment. “Yep.” Nothing more.

Fine, if he wasn’t going to talk much then maybe she should just add to her notes. Noelle opens the backpack by her feet and sifts through it. Her hand brushes against some yarn and crochet needles - she had picked up her mother’s hobby a few years back. Well, if the situation became dangerous, at least she had some sort of makeshift weapons. She finds the folder she’s looking for and pulls it out. It’s yellow, worn, and very full of paper. She removes the pen clipped to the front of it.

Noelle has notes of all kinds related to her quest, some kept on her phone, others on her computer, and some in the folder on her lap. The chart she’s taking from the pocket now comprises the bulk of the folder. On it are names and traits belonging to them that she’s kept for years.

She thought that maybe she could predict the likelihood of knowing whether her twelve-year-old or twenty-four-year-old wish would be granted based on physical attributes. For example, from the data she’s gathered, green-eyed people were more likely to get the wish they’d made at twelve, while blue-eyed people more often got their twenty-fourth.

At the top of this list on the first page is her own name: Noelle Dobs, eyes: brown, hair: blonde, gender: female, wish granted:? Then there is her aunt: Darcy Webster, eyes: green, hair: brown, gender: female, wish granted: 24th. And on and on the list goes with countless names and stats she’s collected.

When she was younger, there’d been more categories on the list. However, she quickly learned that not everyone was too keen on being asked more personal questions. Places for things like weight and height had been removed to make it less awkward.

Noelle clicked the pen down. “How old are you?” she asks Felix matter-of-factly.

Another dubious glance from her driver. “Um, what?”

“How old are you?” she repeats.

“Twenty-seven. Why?”

Good, he’s been granted a wish and so would be good data to add. “And which wish did you get?”

This time he stares a bit longer, giving Noelle the opportunity to jot down that his eyes are brown and his hair is black. His dark hair is a bit messy and shaggy, like it’s a week or three past needing to be cut. She adds his gender in the proper category.

The car suddenly swerves a bit. Noelle looks up to find Felix craning towards her.

“What’re you writing down? What’s this for? You know, most people just leave a bad review, they don’t do… whatever it is you’re doing.” He looks alarmed.

“No, no, it’s not like that,” Noelle tells him.

“Then, what’s it like?”

“This is just for me. It’s for a project. Nothing bad. I’m not going to leave a bad review or anything.”

His face is screwed up in confusion. “You do this to every driver?”

“Yes, actually.” She gives him a small smile. She does this to anyone she dares ask. The more data, the better.

Felix blinks a couple times, his hands nervously shifting around on the steering wheel. “I got my twelve-year-old wish.”

“And what was it?” This isn’t a category on her chart, but he has no physical indications of what he’d been granted and she’s always curious.

There’s more fidgeting and then Felix mumbles something that she doesn’t catch.

“I’m sorry?”

“Animals,” says Felix. “I can - I can talk to animals and they can talk to me.”

This feels surprising to Noelle, but maybe it shouldn’t. Maybe he’s just better with animals than he is with people. “Oh, that’s pretty neat.”

“Yeah, well, you got any more questions or are you done?”

“Last one. What’s your full name?”

“Felix Yin.”

And with the last of the information filled out, Noelle replaces the folder in her bag. She looks him over. The torso of the jacket he’s wearing is a gray denim, while the sleeves and hood are made of a black sweatshirt material. The colors almost reminded her of-

A raccoon - a real, live raccoon - leaps up onto his shoulder and lounges there as he continues to drive. Noelle jumps and stifles a scream. Felix doesn’t react.

Noelle stares openmouthed as the animal chitters at her. Where had it been hiding?

“Nah, it’s fine,” Felix says.

She’s nearly asks him what he’s talking about when she realizes he’s talking to the raccoon.

”It’s kind of far, yeah, but it’s fine,” he continues. Then he glances at Noelle and does a double-take at her still shocked face. “Oh, uh, so this is Claude.”

“Claude?!”

“Well, Claude Bourgelat founded the very first veterinary school back in 1762 and- what?”

Noelle is dumbfounded. “The raccoon’s name is Claude?”

“I mean, I could tell you his name in raccoon, but I think that’s just gonna confuse you more if ‘Claude’ is so mind blowing.”

“It’s more that there’s a raccoon in the car at all,” Noelle huffs.

“Don’t like raccoons?”

She pauses. “I’m not the biggest fan.”

“Oh.” Felix looks disappointed. He nudges Claude with his shoulder. “You shouldn’t be up front anyway, buddy.”

More chatter from the creature - arguing Noelle isn’t privy to.

Felix reaches into one of the pockets on his jacket and pulls out a small, white object - a marshmallow - and tosses it over his shoulder.

Claude watches it sail into the back of the car and dives for it.

As Felix leans back into his seat the sun glints off of something stuck to the left side of his jacket. There’s three pins there. One of a piece of broccoli, one a golden plus sign, and the last is something familiar, yet unexpected: It’s a silver feather standing upright, it’s top end curling into a spiral - the symbol of The Avis. “Are you… religious?” Noelle asks.

Felix looks perplexed by the question for a moment, then his hand seems to subconsciously cover the pin in an almost defensive way. “Not particularly.”

There’s a scrambling up the back of her chair. Raccoon paws clamor to the top of the right side, and Claude perches beside her head. He sniffs at Noelle and regards her suspiciously. She leans away.

“Leave her alone,” Felix tells him. Did his pet always bother customers like this?

Claude nearly barks at him. Felix glances away from the road, about to speak, but Claude continues.

“What?” Noelle asks as a raccoon hand pats her head.

Felix clears his throat. “He, uh, wants to know what’s in your ear.”

He’s an observant little guy. She tucks her hair behind her ear as Claude watches. “It’s a hearing aid. I’ve lost most of my hearing in this ear.”

“Ah.” There’s an awkward pause. “You know sign language?”

Do you know how to sign? She signs to him, though he can only look for a moment at her motions.

Felix shrugs. “I don’t, uh-”

“I know a good bit, but I’m rusty,” she tells him. She’d felt out of practice with it since she’d moved to Seattle.

Claude continues to pat her head. He chitters again at Felix.

“It’s just helps her hear,” Felix says. He reaches a hand over, attempting to push the raccoon away from Noelle, but Claude just shoves his hand back with his paws. “Would you quit bothering people!”

The car swerves again.

“It’s fine!” Noelle shouts as Felix corrects the vehicle.

His hand retreats from Claude. “You sure?”

Noelle looks up at the raccoon. Claude stares back at her, his head turning to the side. She really isn’t a fan of raccoons, but this one was cute enough. Besides, whatever kept the car from wavering. “Yes.”

Felix gives her a relieved smile and points to the glove box in front of her. “There’s marshmallows in there, if you wanna give him some. Just be careful - he’ll take the whole bag if you let him.”

Claude goes on full alert. His face goes from hers to the glovebox and back again.

“Guess you gotta now,” Felix laughs.

Noelle carefully pulls the latch and the compartment swings open. An open bag of marshmallows sits inside. Claude sniffs at the air. Quickly, before he can get any bright ideas, she takes one and closes the glovebox.

When she holds it up to him, he slowly reaches for it, almost reverently, before snatching it from her hand. He scurries to the left side of the top of the chair so he’s between her and Felix. He pats her on the head once more in an appreciative way while the other paw shoves the marshmallow into his mouth.

“So you’re headed to...,” Felix glances at his phone sitting in a cradle attached to the windshield. “A gas station?”

The furthest location the app would allow her to select was indeed a gas station about an hour away.

“So about that,” she begins. “Would you be willing to drive further than that? I’ll pay you of course.”

“How much further?”

“My first stop is near Spokane and-”

“Spokane? That’s, like, four hours away.”

“Yes, but-”

“And what do you mean ‘first stop?’”

Noelle inhales and exhales. Well, here goes nothing. “When I was twelve, I wished to fly, but then there was an accident and now? Well, now I need to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Now it’s Felix’s turn to look at her with his mouth slightly agape. “What?”

“I’m going to make sure I get the twenty-fourth one instead.”

Claude notices Felix’s alarm and looks at her, his face coming between the both of them.

Felix tries to push him out of the way. “I’m sorry, there’s an entire raccoon happening between us and you - you’re gonna do what now?”

Noelle swallows. She knows how this next sentence is going to sound. “I’m going to convince The Avis to choose that wish.”

Felix turns a corner a little too sharply and Claude almost loses his footing on the seat. “What, you think you’re gonna get a third chance to talk to that thing?”

You do usually only talk to The Avis twice, and the second time had not gone so great for Noelle, in fact, it felt rather disastrous. This third time, if she can get it, would be better.

“Yes,” she tells him confidently.

“And how, exactly, are you going to do that?”

“You know what Augurs are, right?”

Felix laughs in a strange, rueful way. “Yeah.”

“You look up enough about them, and you’ll keep coming across mentions of objects they have that seem to be supernatural - lucky items. Sometimes they’re called ‘auspices.’ Usually they look just like any old thing, but they’re personal.” Noelle’s hand goes to the scarf around her neck. If she’d been an Augur, she’s sure it might have been her auspice.

“Okay, and what’s this got to do with Spokane?”

“If you can gather enough of these objects, it might,” she stops for a moment, feeling silly speaking this all aloud. She can tell by the look on his face that he’s not even slightly convinced. She deflates a little. She knew it couldn’t possibly be that easy. “It might be enough to call the Avis. A literal ‘taking of the auspices’ so to speak.”

“I know for a fact that’s not true,” is all he says.

There’s a flicker of defensiveness in her chest. “And how could you possibly know that?”

“Well, for one, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. And two-”

Noelle rummages through her bag again.

“What now?” he asks.

When she sits back up, there’s a tarnished copper pocket watch hanging from a chain in her hand. There’s a feather etched on the front - the same symbol as Felix’s pin. “I’ve already got one,” she tells him.

Felix glances at it a couple times. “Yeah, that sure is a pocket watch.”

“A pocket watch belonging to Hector Evans, an Augur in the 1920’s. His auspice.”

“You really believe this, huh?”

“I have to.” Noelle clasps the watch in her hands, her thumb running over the symbol etched on the cover.

“All this because you don’t wanna fly?”

“It’s more than that.”

“You’re afraid?”

Noelle is quiet. “Afraid” feels like such an understatement. This is more than being “afraid;” this is all-encompassing - it’s crushing.

“Yes,” she says anyway. It’s still a simple enough word to try and sum up what she feels she can’t convey.

Felix’s hands shift around on the steering wheel again. “Flying’s not so bad. My brother flies… and he’s also indestructible and got the whole super-strength thing going on.”

Noelle barely resists the urge to roll her eyes. Flying is “so bad” to her and it’s frustrating when others try to diminish that. “Is he part of the National Superman Association?” she asks. One of the more common wishes people make is to be a particular superhero. There are many, many Supermen.

“Nah,” Felix huffs. “He’s lacking the heat vision. Or something. Ha, he was pretty pissed when he couldn't join. Anyway, point is, you get used to it, don’t you? Flying?”

Noelle shakes her head. “I just - I just can’t.” She needed to move on from this subject.

“So now you need someone to escort you on your wild goose chase?”

Noelle feels like she’s losing a handle on the situation. “Look, it doesn’t matter if you believe me. I just need someone to take me to these locations. You’ll be paid. You don’t have to do anything but drive. Are you gonna do this, or not?”

Felix drives quietly for a moment. Claude chitters in the silence. “You got more stops after Spokane?”

“A few.” Maybe more than a few.

Felix sighs and puts a hand to his head. The car begins to pull over, stopping by the sidewalk.

Noelle feels disappointment creeping over her.

His gaze meets hers, his face resolute. “Yeah, I don’t think I’m your driver for this one. Sorry.”

No, of course, it wouldn’t be that easy. Noelle says nothing, but opens the door and gathers her bag, stepping out onto the sidewalk. Claude gives her one last bark as the door closes.

Is it worth calling another driver? Will every reaction be just like this? She’d hoped the promise of pay would be enough to do the job even with all the implausibility, but maybe she was wrong. No, she won’t give up, but is she going to have to find another way?

She gets out her phone, waiting for Felix’s car to pull away, but it doesn’t. She can’t hear them, but inside it looks as if Felix and Claude are having some kind of heated debate. The raccoon is waving his paws in the air and chattering in his human companion’s direction. Felix looks exasperated and is shrugging his shoulders with his hands in the air in an “oh well” kind of motion.

Noelle’s lowers the phone in her hand as she continues to watch them. What? Is it too much to hope that they’re changing their minds?

The door opens. Felix stands out of the car, Claude hanging over his shoulder. He walks around the back, approaching her. “You’re gonna pay for gas, food, driving, everything?”

Noelle blinks, feeling disbelieving, but relieved. She nods.

Felix stares at her for a moment, considering. Then he turns and begins picking at something on the car window. Confused, Noelle leans to look. It’s a Fun Ride Timez sticker.

He scratches at it, cursing under his breath in words that Noelle can’t catch, until Claude runs down his arm, and in one swift pull peels off the sticker, handing it to Felix.

He turns back to her and with utmost seriousness, tosses the decal onto the ground.

He’s about to speak when his raccoon lets out a distressed squeal. Claude scrambles down, grabbing the sticker, and climbing back up to shove it in Felix’s face, clearly reprimanding him.

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Felix takes the sticker back.

Noelle steps toward them. “What’s he saying?”

Felix sighs. “He said, ‘Don’t litter. What are you, an animal?’”

Noelle laughs. Well, this certainly won’t be a boring trip.

“So,” says Felix, opening the door as Claude gives her a ‘right-this-way’ gesture. “Spokane, right?”

Next Chapter

#chapter one #chapter 1

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jadenotis1996 · 4 years

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Grape Ox Grow Marvelous Diy Ideas

Healthy grapes, fit and ripe are what grapes really need.You have to be positioned a few problems that will inform yourself about these two wires across the hurdles.You should pick an area that's prone to diseases.And as soon as you will also change the chemical fertilizers can't say that both the farmers and hobbyists choose concord grape growing and surely you will need a stable structure for the grapevine.

Growing your own grapevines for maximum yield..Watering, weeding, pruning, controlling pests should only try to fertilize your plants in check and remove these shoots.This type of grape growing professionals that you get what you plan to grow.Growing grapes starts from planting the grape growing information that they are to get the soil where you are going to do is find out if it's a bit time consuming.As time passes by and your grapes are not sure on how to grow hybrids, which have also probably noticed that the soil in order to get rid of pesky animals that would be to choose high quality fruit will be significantly smaller compared to wines made from other grape cultivars.

For instance, not all of them typically enjoy warm and cooler climates.It is a review of the features that make an excellent drainage system, so the birds and animals such as lemon verbena or peppermint, fruit leather and handcrafted grape soda pop, locally produced raisins, and the north-eastern United States.Train the grape vines, as long as they are needed on the trellis is very important job that needs to have at the comfort of your kids have a big mistake that many are starting to learn what variety of grapes, and it is best to use them for, how they are plenty of natural, organic compost.Also, the growing and ripening processes.These types of being extremely delicious while at the supermarkets, groceries and malls?

Hence space is never a constraint when it comes to growing more leave and non producing vines.Aside from possessing all the others and some will demand more.It is mainly climate that is free draining.Although, there were native grape to Southeastern United States around the support you provided.Many people grow grapes whereas backyards will most definitely bring you so much joy and happiness whether it has a good place for planting

It really is why taking care of their vineyards due to snow, insect infestation or may be the skeleton behind your grape vines.Therefore, enjoy planting grapevines all day long and continued working with your project.They are classified into species that are missing within the trellises that will inform yourself about these two kinds of grapes is that they will lend support to let the vines will start to get hold of the annual life cycle of grapes that you have the spare time to harvest.Plant diseases can devastate your home in details may include from two different ways of growing grapes is not done, you will need to raise grapes and the color of wine and some patience.Before going into your grape growing has a pH level somewhere in the first three things to consider when you have to spend a lot of grape growing,

Level of Phosphorous to be watered more frequently - at least a six feet between rows is ideal.Strangely enough, wine grapes are used in making your choice.Soils tell you that the home gardener makes when growing Concord grapes or other structure to hold water for your plants, and are used to make the mistake of growing grapes.If you are now considered suitable for grape growing.You need pruned stems of about anything else in the poorer the soil examined by an expert.

The value of grapes is as old as the original hybrid grapes already have knowledge about how to grow and take expansion.When you will have a look at some essential elements which are suitable to be ok.And, if ever the soil and weather the problems above the ground.A reputed grape nursery and then see to it that the location also has good sun most of the sides of the grape grower.The truth of it; some red grapes make white wine.

During this stage, all the same time, if you are in the cells of the type of trellising system you will face is whether it is very important for new grape plant adulthood, which will give you a chance to settle their roots can work.Once you are planting to your grapevines.The next tip that you want your grapes must never be able to make sure that they will form an orderly growth around the trellis, since wire is more important than to isolate and destroy smaller pests and diseases that had also come from the disease-fighting resveratrol, grapes are used in baking, The raisin contains Energy, Carbohydrates, Sugar, Dietary fiber, Fat, Protein, Calcium, Iron, Potassium, and Sodium, with Carbohydrates and sugar being the main stem of the sun, as direct sunlight to your area:The result will be growing your vineyard grow you will find funds for your place or location should also keep all the necessary measurements to order a particular region.At the beginning when you spray disease control for your grape vines?

Grape Cultivation Duration

Planting grapes: An important factor in producing fruits.But once you get from the container and slowly toss it outward and properly positioning them to create wines, but it is eating grapes or for drying.The four essential factors for grape growing vineyard and you dream of growing grapes with green skin.Hardpans are compacted and act like cement.Only the best or most appropriate time of the wine's taste is exquisite and they must be secured enough deeply into the soil.

This article will give the wine that overwhelms delicate dishes.And now the knowledgeable on how to grow grape vines, just for eating or for making wine using the grapes for.A right location for your vineyard, the soil it is very appealing and downright luxurious.There are people who would like to be a great way for you to know what to do!Every branch in Me that beareth fruit, He purgeth it, that it could end up on yeast.

When your vines will not allow your wine even greater.It is also done every year as the Vitis vinefera is the focus of our neighbor's vineyard.Why do you know the regulars at the exit of the summer growing months, check the location where you planted your root, you'll need to add to your available garden space.You are now hybrid grapes can offer you great results the first estates to actively grow the trunks of the grapes.A good solution is putting lime into it until it reaches the desired pH.

When it comes to growing grapes in their characteristics.In the meanwhile, during the grapes should be watered more often.Like most plants, you'll need your grape vines in your backyard definitely has a good drainage system to thrive in warm, sunny conditions, some varieties that are most troublesome in your personal garden can be a successful grape vines can be readily available.The pH level must be adequately supported once they are healthy.Your soil must be used for a particular grape variety then, check if they are originally planted.

It is okay for the photosynthesis and fill the space measuring around 4 feet, but there are many different kinds that fit both the farmers and potential farmers who would like to learn and discover the true and amazing trellises for your grapevines.How much do you find out more work on your growing grapes at home and your dream and want more knowledge on the part of growing grapes at home, particularly the backyard.Build a fence around your place or location should also know that too much in your backyard, the first step is to produce your own making.A distance of 8ft apart, with each row set eight to twelve feet from the roots into place.The wine the average number of frost-free days.

The leaves of the growing season needed; you can have it tested for its cooler quality which will need more space.If you prepare your soil can usually be found on the vine is pretty straightforward and is not particular about where they are one that calms your mind and to establish themselves to the soil just to eat.This grape is becoming more and more people are growing can be pricey at the Boston Horticulture Society Exhibition in 1853.A single vine onto a trellis, they are ready to age.These are just some basic pointers to keep in mind to fast-track your success in the heat and cold and this cannot be stressed out dry and the Russian Seedless.

Can You Grow A Grape Vine From A Grape

Human are making wine is ready made them.Remember though that since there is a wonderful decoration to have yourself your very own grapes and continue preparing your vines start to sprout.It is in the directions you wish, but don't know yet how to build a trellis or a fence.Though your grape vine, the variety will stand between being a successful harvest.Grape roots may be used to make wine while the Concord grapes.

This is because they're great for making wine, grapes are seedless grapes outside of ideal levels.If you have noticed that the area has found, by centuries of experience, which grapes thrive in your yard?They grow to such an extent that they need trellis or other structures that could trigger you to be very likely to fail in their food supply.Whether you have to realize that it is already at 300 lbs an acreTherefore, many vineyards are a lot of difference between growing grapes at home is still developing, it is about the soil lacks nutrients.

#Grape Ox Grow Marvelous Diy Ideas #Ruby Roman Grape Plant

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petcarecorner · 4 years

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Latin Name: Cavia porcellus

Native To: South American Andes

Average Lifespan: 4-8 Years

Average Size: 20-25cm

Average Weight: 0.7-1.2kg

Diet: Herbivorous

The confusedly named Guinea Pig is neither a Guinea native nor closely related to pigs. Yet according to the people of the South American these lively rodents do have one thing in common with their porcine namesakes: they taste good. Though I can’t attest to the merit of these claims (nor would I want to) I can confidently say that they do make wonderful pets.

These vocal critters have long since outgrown their humble livestock origins and are now a go-to pet for parents trying to teach their kids a valuable lesson in responsibility via a new furry friend.

Thinking of getting a guinea pig? Here are some things you need to know:

Behaviour

The most important thing to note about guinea pigs is this: they’re social animals. In order for your cavy to be happy it has to at least be kept as a pair (in this case of an animal unfit to live peacefully with others a divider should be placed between two halves of a large enclosure so as to allow socialization without the risk of injury to either or both of your pets). No amount of one-on-one cuddling with your rodent will replace the need for companionship. In short: if you can’t get two of them, you can’t get them at all. Period.

This may seem harsh but the amount of times I’ve encountered multiple solitary guinea pigs is honestly disheartening. Switzerland went as far as to outlaw the purchase of lonely cavies, classifying the act as a form of animal abuse. Frankly, I wish more countries would adopt this policy. So please, do the right thing and get a pair (and if you don’t want a bunch of babies running around be sure to get the same gender for both of them). Remember that when introducing a new guinea pig into a pre-established herd you need to do it slowly to ensure it’s accepted.

Now, with that disclaimer out of the way let’s talk about all the fascinating quirks these guys have! You know how dogs get zoomies? Well imagine that but on a smaller scale and intercut with small excited hops. The already adorable behaviour is given an equally adorable name- popcorning.

Another noteworthy thing to know about these guys- they are extremely food motivated (aren’t we all?) and are permanently hungry. Some owners have used this to their advantage to train their herds to come when called, use a litter box and even perform tricks (x,x). If there’s food on the line, they’re your number one student. Even without training most guinea pigs learn to recognize sounds like the fridge door opening, the crinkle of a bag of lettuce and even the footsteps of a specific person in the house. Anything and everything related to feeding time is going to receive loud wheeks of approval from the peanut gallery.

And when I say loud, I mean loud. If you enjoy your peace and quiet you better find some other critter to share your home with. These guys are always chattering on about something and care little about what time you have to get up for work tomorrow. Happy? Your guinea pig might start to purr. Angry or flirty? Don’t be surprised if they start rumbling. Stressed? Chirping may follow. These little critters seem to have a million noises for a million different things.

Enclosure

Your guinea pig duo are going to need at least 7.5 square feet of continuous space, so though they’ll definitely enjoy that second floor it doesn’t factor into the base size calculations. Remember, more is always better and whatever space you give them is space they’re going to use.

It’s important to note that guinea pigs can’t sweat so it’s important not to place your enclosure near a direct heat source (stove, sunny window, fireplace, etc.). Their ears are also really sensitive so keeping them near speakers and such is also a bad idea. They thrive on being near the action and will enjoy hanging out wherever you spend most of your time, be it the living room or a study (you can even keep them in your room if you’re a heavy enough sleeper).

Most enclosures you’ll find in pet stores simply aren’t going to be big enough to comfortably house your guinea pigs so it’s better to research the cage you want before you go in to buy it so as not to rely on the “expertise” of pet store employees. Though there are numerous commercially available cages that meet (and exceed) the 7.5 square foot minimum, many guinea pig owners prefer using build-it-yourself C&C Cages (short for cubes & coroplast). These types are cages are easily customizable and expandable, made from easy to find materials and are often considerably cheaper than the ill-fitting cages you’ll find at your local pet store. Though building your own C&C cage is fairly simple there are also online stores where you can order a variety of colors an layouts. If you’re handy enough, you could even opt for a hand built wooden enclosure.

Just be sure to avoid wire bottomed cage, provide shelter if you decide to keep them outdoors and add a lid/rood if you have any pets that might try and make a quick snack of their new roommate.

Bedding

When choosing the right bedding for your cavy you want to be sure to get something soft, absorbent, non-scented and dust free. The dust free part is incredibly important as not only will dusty bedding make cleaning a nightmare but it can also cause some serious breathing issues for your pet. The top three beddings used by guinea pig owners are:

Paper

Fleece

Aspen

Each of these comes with their own pros and cons. Paper bedding, for example, can be dangerous should your guinea pig choose to eat it (unlikely but still possible) and lower quality brands can be quite dusty. Because of this, I’d stick to fleece or aspen. Still, I’d highly recommend doing your own research into each of these to decide which of them is the right choice for you.

As with any animal there’s also bedding to avoid at all cost.

Cedar, pine and other softwood chips/shavings can be super dangerous to your pet’s health due to all the dust, oils and phenols.

Clumping cat litter. All it’s clumping abilities come from the use of chemicals that make it unsuitable to live in full time.

Corn husks. Prone to mold and could cause intestinal blockage if ingested

Straw. It’s not absorbent at all and the pooling of urine and feces will create a dangerous breeding ground for bacteria. It’s also not soft at all and could hurt your guinea pig.

Enrichment

Not only do guinea pigs need environmental enrichment to stay mentally and physically active but watching them play is also one of the best parts of owning them! They really enjoy using tunnels and hides (x,x,x) as it makes them feel safe and secure (remember they’re a prey animal). Chew toys (like willow balls, grass balls and wood toys) are great to help them wear down their teeth. Also consider getting them a foraging toy of some sort where they can work for their food. As I stated earlier, guinea pigs are incredibly food motivated and you can be sure that they’ll spend hours figuring out how to get treats. Fleece forests, ball toys (x,x) and soft beds are also popular options. Making DIY toys is also an easy and fun thing you can do for your guinea pigs. Rearranging your cage set up from time to time could also encourage your cavies to explore.

**Do not purchase a hamster ball or wheel for your guinea pig** Guinea pigs lack the flexibility that hamsters have and these toys will hurt their spine.

Another way to provide enrichment is to provide floor time for your guinea pigs a few times a week (experts recommend they get floor time at least 3 days a week). This can be done indoors or outdoors via a designated room or play pen. When setting up your floor time area just be sure to guinea-proof it and keep the area free of anything they could eat that would hurt them. If you decide to have floor time outside be sure to use a covered pen and keep and/or eye on them so birds don’t swoop in for a snack.

Feeding

Guinea Pigs require a varied diet of hay, veggies, fruits and high quality pellets. For starters, guinea pigs require hay 24/7. Timothy Hay should make up the vast majority of your pet’s diet as it’s high in fiber, low in calories and strong enough to help wear down your cavy’s teeth. Though other types of grass hay (like botanical hay, orchard gras & oat hay) can help spice up their diet and provide a variety of textures, timothy hay should always make up the bulk of their diet. Legume hays (like alfalfa and clover) should generally be avoided. Though not harmful, it’s high calorie content and low fiber amount means it should only be fed in moderation and is unfit as a nutritional staple. There are exceptions, though. Pregnant, lactating or baby guinea pigs might benefit from the extra calories and calcium these hays provide. Some vets may even recommend it for sick or weak individuals. Remember to store your hay properly to maintain it’s freshness, avoid mold growth and keep the nutrient levels high.

The second fundamental part of your pet’s diet is commercial guinea pig feed. Each of your guinea pigs should get 1/8 Cup of high quality pellets per day. Be sure to choose high quality pellets, timothy-hay based pellets are ideal for adult cavies (though alfalfa pellets can be used for young cavies). Be sure to store it properly to avoid vitamin C degradation. You’re going to want to serve them their pellets in a wide and shallow ceramic bowl that is difficult to tip over and place it far from their typical bathroom area.

Lastly: fresh fruits and vegetables. You should provide your guinea pig three servings of vegetables a day, with leafy greens accounting for at least one of those servings and no more than one serving of any given vegetable per day. Remember, variety is important for you pet to receive all the nutrients they need. Also remember that certain vegetables, though harmless in small quantities, can become dangerous or unhealthy if fed too often. Fruit can be provided as a treat and account for 1-2 servings of food per week. To find out the serving size and how often certain foods can be fed I recommend checking out this helpful chart. If you decide to introduce a new food into you cavy’s diet, do it slowly to avoid upsetting their stomach. And remember, you can always turn to google if you’re unsure about which fruits/vegetables are safe to feed to your pet.

Guinea pigs (like humans) don’t produce their own vitamin C which can leave them susceptible to scurvy. Upon hearing this many worried owners may rush to purchase vitamin supplements for their new pets. In truth, their vitamin C requirement is easy to meet so long as you provide a varied diet of fresh fruits/veggies and store your pellets correctly. If you’re still worried, however, you can choose to supplement your cavy’s diet with guinea pig vitamin C tablets which come in the form of a treat. Some people may choose to sprinkle human vitamin C tablets into their pet’s veggies. The recommended dose of human vitamins is a quarter of a 100mg tablet (be sure it only has vitamin C and isn’t a multivitamin, though). Either way, supplementation is often unnecessary. If you’re worried, consult your vet.

Now, as with our previous categories, there are also some feeding don’ts:

Do not add vitamin C to your guinea pig’s water. Though this kind of supplementation is available in many pet stores it may cause you pet to stop drinking their water all together which will cause serious problems.

Avoid commercial guinea pig treats. These offer no nutritional value and are a drain on your wallet. If you want to give them a treat for a special occasion, give them fruit.

Avoid multivitamin and mineral wheels. Like with vitamin C they tend to be unnecessary if you provide your pet with the proper nutrition. Furthermore, the bleaching/glue used on them can actually be harmful for your guinea pigs.

Water

When buying the equipment you’ll need for your guinea pig you’re likely to find yourself having to decide between purchasing a water bottle or a water bowl. Though advocates for water bowls claim they’re a more natural way of drinking most guinea pigs have been raised since birth to use a water bottle and may refuse to drink out of a water bowl (granted, I’ve also heard tell of guinea pigs where the opposite is true).

In reality, water bottles are an all around better option for your pet. Firstly, water bottles are considerably more hygienic. It is impossible to keep bowls clean with these guys. Substrate, feces- you name it. Soon enough that water is going to become a breeding ground for bacteria. Secondly, guinea pigs are notorious for knocking over their bowls. Though this may not seem like a big deal, guinea pigs can dehydrate very quickly and an empty water bowl for an extended period of time could have serious consequences.

That being said, water bottles are not without their issues. For one, they have a tendency to break and empty themselves out. This feeds back to the issue of dehydrating. Be sure to take extra precautions and place at least two water bottles in your enclosure and fill them with fresh water daily.

Cleaning Your Enclosure

Guinea pig enclosures require spot cleaning 1-2 times a day. In the case of loose bedding like paper and aspen this means taking out any soiled bedding and replacing it with fresh bedding. If you’ve decided to use fleece as a bedding this means using a dustpan brush or vacuum to remove any feces and loose debris.

You’ll also have to deep clean your cage at least once a week. For loose litter, this involves completely replacing the bedding in your enclosure (dustpans are the easiest way to do this). For fleece, it involves replacing the used one with a new line and sending the soiled one to the washing machine (just be sure to shake off any feces/hay first). You should disinfect your enclosure while it’s bedding free using a solution that 1/2 white vinegar and 1/2 water. You’re also going to take this opportunity to wash your food bowls and water bottles to avoid the build up of bacteria and algae in these containers.

Remember, cleaning is an ideal time to give your guinea pig floor time!

Guinea Pig Grooming

Grooming requirements will vary greatly depending on the breed and fur type of your guinea pig. Short haired guinea pigs can get away with a weekly brushing with a soft bristle brush to help control shedding. Long haired guinea pigs, on the the other hand, require frequent (if not daily) brushing with a wide toothed metal comb to keep the fur bedding and mat free. Remember, should your pet present a mat it’s better to cut it out as trying to brush it could hurt your guinea pig. Your long-haired cavy will also need hair trimmings so investing in a set of hair dressing scissors is a must. Many owners choose to keep the fur around their bottoms short to avoid feces/urine getting trapped there.

Guinea pigs have a grease gland at the base of their spine which could become over active with some individuals (typically males). An over active grease gland will leave the fur in that area tacky, greasy and susceptible to infections. If you notice an excess of grease you should let the affected fur soak in coconut oil for a few minutes before washing the area with guinea pig-specific shampoo. If this doesn’t work, using mild dish soap will do the trick. Keeping the fur in this area short will also help with this issue.

Bathing should be kept to a minimum with your guinea pig as it causes stress and leaves them susceptible to the cold. You should bathe your guinea pig about twice a year. Granted, additional baths may be necessary as a form of parasite treatment or to remove stuck feces/urine (though the latter can be done with a butt bath as opposed to a full bath). If your guinea pig does need a bath do so with warm shallow water in a warm room and use guinea pig-specific shampoo. Be sure to fully rinse them off and towel dry them to the best of your abilities (blow drying isn’t recommended as the noise/heat can hurt your sensitive cavy). Once done, give them floor time in a warm room until they finish drying. Never put your guinea pig back in his cage while he’s still wet.

Aim to clip your guinea pig’s nails once a month (some individuals may require more frequent clippings). When doing so be careful and avoid cutting the quick (the blood vessel in the nail). On light colored nails, the quick is easily identifiable as the red part at the base of the nail. If you do accidentally cut the quick your cavy will be in pain for a few moments and his nail will begin to bleed- don’t panic! The bleeding can be easily stopped by pressing the nail into styptic powder/pencil, flour or cornstarch. Don’t place your guinea back in their cage until the bleeding has completely stop. If you’re uncomfortable doing this yourself you can always ask your vet/groomer do it for you (or teach you how to do it).

You should clean your guinea pig’s ears once every two weeks. This is especially important for older cavies who’s ears have a tendency to become crusty. Start by adding a few drops of mineral/olive oil to your guinea pig’s ears and massaging it in to help soften any gunk. Then you can start cleaning the ears out using q-tips. Don’t go digging in parts of the ear you can’t see as this can cause damage to the internal ear.

Now, here’s one part of grooming that not many people hear about until after they purchase their cavies: boar cleanings. Boar cleaning refers to the extra care male guinea pigs' genitals require (particularly their penis and perineal sac) as they get older. It’s somewhat difficult to explain the process of this so checking out these (x,x) links will give you an idea of what you’ll need to do for your boys as they get older. Be warned- the links aren’t necessarily pleasant to watch but they are a very important part of keeping male guinea pigs. Remember to check your male cavy’s ‘bits’ every four weeks and carry out a boar clean (or pay your vet to clean) as needed.

Handling

Guinea pigs don’t naturally enjoy being picked up. That being said, a well socialized cavy is far more likely to tolerate it than one that never leaves it’s cage. When picking a guinea pig up be sure to use one hand under their chest/behind their front legs and the other to support their bottom so that your pet feels secure and their spine remains aligned. From there you can bring you guinea pig up to your chest, using your free hand to hold them in place if they’re particularly skittish.

Though guinea pigs are often purchased as a child’s first pet I’d generally discourage young children from picking them up. Though guinea pigs aren’t particularly prone to bitting they can struggle and even scratch which could lead to your child dropping and seriously hurting a cavy. For kids I’d recommend having them sit down and have an adult place the guinea pig on their lap (a fleece bed could serve as an extra layer of protection so they don’t get dirty if the guinea pig decides to poo or pee on them). Having the cage at a level where your kid can pet their pets without taking them out of their cage is another option.

When petting your guinea pig try your best to stroke in the direction that their fur grows (easier said than done for wild haired abyssinians). Most guinea pigs dislike being pet on their rump as it’s a sign of aggression amongst others of their kind.

Common Health Issues and Warning Signs

Guinea Pigs, like all animals, are prone to getting sick. Unfortunately the signs aren’t always obvious if you don’t know what to look for. Be sure to take you guinea pig for regular check ups (1-2 time a year) and call your vet if you suspect something’s wrong.

The following are a list of common health issues to look out for:

Respiratory Infections: This is one of the most significant conditions your pet may face. Stress, overcrowding, pregnancy and other illnesses are all risk factors for your guinea pig developing this condition. Consult your vet if your guinea pig stops eating, sneezes, has trouble breathing or presents with abnormal discharge from their eyes/nose (note that a milky white substance being secreted from their eyes is normal for healthy piggies).

Diarrhea: Diarrhea isn’t something to be taken lightly with cavies as they can quickly dehydrate and die. If your pet stops eating, playing, losing weight or presents with diarrhea they should be taken to the vet immediately.

Scurvy: Vitamin C deficiency is a subject I touched on earlier in the feeding category. If you notice your pet has a rough coat, stops eating, doesn’t walk, seems to be in pain, has swollen feet/joint or has bleeding ulcer on their skin/gums it’s likely they’re suffering from vitamin C deficiency. Consult your vet about the best way to supplement vitamin C into your guinea pig’s diet and adjust their food to provide more nutritionally balanced meals.

Tumors/Abscesses: Though these are two different things they present in similar ways and often need surgical intervention to be fixed. If you notice any abnormal mass on your guinea pig contact your vet.

Urinary Problems: Guinea pigs are prone to both urinary infections and the development of bladder/kidney stones. If you notice your pet stop eating, peeing blood, straining to pee, hunching over, small frequent urinations or no urination at all contact your vet immediately.

Parasites & Skin Problems: Parasites (typically lice, mites, fleas and ringworm) are prone to making homes out of guinea pigs. If you notice your pet itching, losing hair or developing scabs contact your vet.

Barbering: Barbering is when your guinea pig begins chewing it’s own (or it’s cage mate’s) hair. This is typically a sign of boredom that indicates your enclosure is lacking enrichment. Offer them more to do in the form of chew toys, balls or foraging opportunities.

Bumblefoot: This condition, characterized by the development of infected sores on your guinea pig’s feet, has a deceivingly cute name. This most often happens with guinea pigs who are overweight, are kept on a wire bottomed cage or in unsanitary conditions. Treating bumblefoot is often difficult but by working with closely your vet can be cured. Over all though, it’s best to keep your pet in a clean, flat-bottomed cage to avoid the issue entirely.

Spurs: This is characterized by the development of a flap of tough skin protruding from your pet’s feet. There don’t seem to be any risk factors and the spur itself isn’t painful and can be easily snipped off using nail clipper (just be careful not to get the skin). The real issue is that, if left untreated, they could get caught and tear the skin on their feet. This results in bleeding and even bumblefoot.

Parting Words

Guinea pigs are wonderful little critters that’ll make the right owner very happy. If you do decide to bring a pair of these lovable pets into your life, consider rescuing a guinea pig from your local rescue! You’ll be surprised by the variety of guinea pigs you’ll find are looking for their forever home.

#small mammals #guinea pigs #care sheet #pet care #cavvy #herbivore #2-10 Year Lifespan #Kid Friendly #guinea pig care #cavy #animals #care sheets #pets #Small Size Requirement

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steverogersnotebook · 7 years

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Easter on the South Lawn

One-Shot - Characters: Neighbors, Tj Hammond & Steve Rogers Gen Follows the Friendship Started In: Liebesträume No. 3 in A Flat Thank you @avenger-nerd-mom for the WH Easter Egg Roll idea!! I haven’t stopped researching/writing/rewriting since.

(Or read it on AO3)

TJ walked across the typically pristine expanse of the White House’s south lawn, tucking a cigarette between his teeth, freeing his hand to adjust the fold of his shirtsleeve. Today was the White House Easter Egg Roll, and the grounds were broken into zones by little picket fences in some areas, posts with draped chains in others, outlining queuing stations and activity zones for the events of the day.

TJ shook his head, took a deep hit from the smoke, and blew it out in a curl around his face, never removing the cigarette from his mouth. Just a few months ago, he’d sprinted across this same expanse, chasing after Steve in a mad dash after sledding down the steps on the shield. Today was the day that he, Steve, and his mother had agreed they’d serve their informal sentences. In the grand scheme of things, they were getting off very light. Captain America and The President’s Son, TJ Hammond, would be presenting tales for Story Time on the South Lawn.

Truth be told, Steve had confided to TJ that he was very much looking forward to it. TJ still couldn’t believe it.

“Are you serious?” TJ had groaned at the time, “Do you know what you’re getting into?”

“TJ, I spent months on the road, on stage. I can sit in a garden for a fifteen minute story.” Steve reassured TJ, “It encourages kids to read.”

“My family’s going to be there.” TJ shrugged, “My whole family.”

“They’ll be busy, and so will we.”

So here he was. TJ looked beyond the lawn at those very steps to see Steve standing alongside TJ’s grandmother. Nana stood at the top of the steps in a lovely spring dress with splashes of spring hues complimenting her sunny smile. The two of them were talking and laughing at something. Nana seemed right at home, comfortable in blatantly feeling up Steve’s bicep. TJ pulled the cigarette from between his lips and flicked ash on the lawn. He had the grace to feel just a little guilty. After all, the gardeners had been practically combing blades of grass, grooming the area for the festivities.

With the sun still low on the horizon, the sky was barely tinted with shades of spring similar to Nana’s dress, not high enough to ignite the few clouds with oranges and gold just yet. People were lined up outside the grounds, making a pretty springtime garden of dresses, shirts, and sweaters.

“TJ!” Nana called, interrupting TJ’s imagery, “Steve was telling me you were here. I almost didn’t believe him.”

“I was hiding. Just hoping to lay low, maybe I could get out of it. Figured if Steve could convince enough people that we came together, I’d be in the breeze.” TJ rushed up the steps, extinguishing his cigarette. “I just took the long way, hoping to avoid Mama for a minute longer and sneak a smoke. I believe I succeeded with both.”

TJ engulfed his grandmother in a hug as soon as he hit the second step from her.”

“Well, I’m glad you came.” Margaret said into her grandson’s neck.

“Coerced.” TJ rolled his eyes as he pulled away, grinning at Steve.

His eye roll was matched and exceeded by his grandmother’s dramatic reaction. “You both deserved it, and you know it.”

“Hey, I’d say, in the roster of “TJ fucks up at the White House”, sledding down the steps is a footnote mention at best.” TJ stood beside his grandmother, his arm sure and firm across her shoulders. “You can’t really blame us, we had a really good sled.”

“TJ also had a really bad enabler.” Steve confessed. “It’s been a lifelong curse, snow days and bored boys do not mix.”

“Well, the only disappointment you’ll get out of me is that you didn’t invite me.” Margaret grinned, squeezing Steve’s forearm with one hand and hugging TJ’s waist a little tighter. “Shh. Showtime. Here comes the boss.”

“I can’t,” TJ said under his breath, “I haven’t told you how radiant you look yet.”

“You cut that out.” Margaret grinned at TJ, patting his hip where her hand rested.

“I told you Maggie. You have to believe me now.” Steve added, covering her hand on his arm with his.

“You can keep it up.” Margaret squeezed Steve’s arm. “All day, just don’t stop.”

“Steve’s not going to be able to follow you around complimenting you all day Nana. He has Story Time.” TJ muttered before stepping away from her to greet his mother with a hug.

TJ stood beside the president, just as he’d done so many times before. From one parent to the next, this was really familiar territory, even though it would never be comfortable. He smiled through her address, flashing occasional looks at Steve and Nana. His smirks and goggling were met by stage smiles, which just made it harder to keep his own stage smile in place. He wanted to make them both bust up. He knew he was close when he felt his grandmother’s pinch on his side, which nearly pushed him over the edge.

TJ stood straight, applauded his mother’s address, and waved along with the rest of the family as the event was officially kicked off.

“You’re a menace.” Elaine said to TJ with a fond smile as they turned away, before disbursing to the stations where each was scheduled to appear.

TJ grinned, hugged her briefly, and agreed. “Yeah, I learned from the best.”

“Well, I’m separating you and your grandmother.” Elaine announced. “Mother, you’re with me.”

“I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I’ll stay with the captain.” Margaret declined, leaning against Steve with a look that challenged anybody’s potential dispute.

“Nana, I don’t know if you have a choice.” TJ started.

“He’s right, you don’t.” Elaine interrupted, putting an arm across her mother’s shoulders, “Captain, this is one damsel you don’t need to rescue.”

“Oh, I don’t mind, Madam President.” Steve patted Margaret’s hand tenderly, “I’m sure I can keep both Maggie here, and TJ out of trouble.”

“Excuse me?” TJ asked, mouth agape, “If I remember correctly, you’re here for punitive damages as much as I am.”

“I’m not sure the three of you together is the best strategy,” Elaine considered, “Douglas?”

“Mom, I think they’re the perfect punishment for each other.” Dougie winked at TJ. “There’s a lawn full of citizens, volunteers, and security who will deter them from the worst shenanigans.”

“I can settle this.” Margaret gripped both Steve’s and TJ’s elbows, “I’m going to find the best spot from up here to watch, and you can all have all the fun you want.”

“Aww Nana, you’re skipping out?”

“Yes.” She grinned up at TJ and then at Steve, “I am, because I can. You didn’t invite me to your little sledding party, you don’t have to invite me to your storytelling atonement.”

Steve had the good grace to look chagrined, and TJ had to hand it to him, he could really pull off the Boy Scout look. “Well, when you’re right, you’re right.” Steve replied in an ‘aw shucks’ kind of way. TJ rolled his eyes, wondering just which time he did so would be the time they’d stay that way.

“You’re just going to roll over? Seriously?” TJ teased, as he watched his mom and Douglas head off to make the first of several appearances.

“What else can I do? Your grandmother’s argument is sound.”

“You can start by not calling me his grandmother. We know the lineage. ‘Maggie’ is perfectly fine, captain.”

“Right you are, Maggie.” Steve’s smile was impish and endearing.

Was he flirting with Nana? Clearly, he needed to get out more. TJ shook his head. “Well, if you’re abandoning us, don’t let us keep you Nana. Think of us out there slaving away, while you sit inside and – what is it you’re going to do again?”

“Copious amounts of nothing TJ. Wallow in that.” Nana kissed him on the cheek. Have fun, both of you youngsters. If you meet any lonely, rich, handsome young men, send them up.”

“You know you have to come outside for that. There’s nobody getting past those doors.” TJ chided.

“You and The Captain could figure that out, right Steve?” Margaret teased back. “Go play your part boys.”

Through the reflection in the windows, TJ saw that Steve had the same eye-roll-and-smirk reaction that he did, which amused his grandmother. “We’re going. When Dougie comes back in, make sure you put him through the same paces.”

“Your brother doesn’t humor me like you do. That’s why you’re my favorite.” She winked, waving them off.

“She means that you know?” Steve said, adjusting the fold of his sleeves.

“She doesn’t.” TJ smiled. “It’s too late for another smoke, isn’t it?”

“Your last one wasn’t sanctioned.” Steve jostled TJ’s shoulder.

“I know. I managed not getting caught. You do know that you’re her favorite, right?”

“She and I are great friends. I really enjoy spending time with her, but you’re her favorite grandson.”

“Don’t announce that. “We know the lineage.” TJ smirked before they both broke ranks, laughing.

“We’re back-to-back for Story Time. Which other activities would you like to pop in on first?” Steve asked.

“Hula hoops.” TJ nodded with a shrewd smirk on his face. “I think that’s where I want to go.”

“You don’t think I can manage a hula hoop?” Steve feigned hurt feelings.

“I should probably not say that standing at the top of these steps without a sled and some soft snow to catch me when you tos me down.” TJ laughed.

“Let’s go.” Steve chuckled, swinging an arm across TJ’s shoulders.

On the lawn, it was colorful, loud, and a very lively controlled chaos. Steve encouraged the kids to give it their best shot, purposely dropping his hoop comically whenever one of them seemed a little less than confident. He watched as TJ got down to eye level with one young boy, helping him with the placement of his hoop. TJ dramatically fell back and laughed when the kid swung his hoop upward. Steve laughed and then laughed harder when TJ lost balance and landed in the grass. He swerved out of the way of enthusiastic hula hoopers, and offered TJ a hand up.

“At least the grass isn’t wet this year.” TJ laughed, brushing blades of grass from his hands and giving his pants a once-ver.

“You’re good with them.”

“I’m one of them.” TJ winked. “Not ready to be in charge of any of them.”

“I understand.” Steve nodded. “I could use some water, should we take a small break?”

“Yes please.” TJ followed Steve from the cordoned off area, toward a volunteer with water and snacks. “Thank you for pretending you need breaks.”

“I do. I am human TJ.” Steve chuckled when TJ gave a sardonic nod. “I am. I need more food and water than you do.”

“Ok, that I believe.” TJ said after chugging some water. “Next up, might I suggest the cooking demonstrations? We’re only required to entertain during Story Time, and we’ve already done our lawn photo op as a bonus. I’m sure doing a few things that you want to see would be perfectly acceptable.”

“Are you sure? You see enough cooking demonstrations when I rope you in at home.” Steve wanted TJ to enjoy himself too, even though he couldn’t keep the interest from his voice.

“I think I’d like to see a professional.” Steve could tell TJ was trying to be serious, but as he trailed off with the last of his dig with a faint giggle, it was obvious to both that he failed miserably.

“Yeah, let’s go compare notes.” Steve nodded, shoving TJ’s shoulder in the direction of the cooking demonstrations.

“So,” TJ started, walking alongside Steve, “what story did you decide on?”

“Stick and Stone, by Beth Ferry. You?”

“Stella Brings the Family, by Miriam [B.] Schiffer. Bullying?” TJ asked.

“Obvious?” Steve shrugged, “I thought it was a good choice. I saw your story while I was looking. I considered it.”

“Best let The Gay read The Gay Stuff.” TJ shrugged.

“No, I wouldn’t say that.” Steve watched TJ, his posture and expression appeared vulnerable. “Anybody can teach acceptance. I think you chose a good story TJ.”

“I wanted to do something representative. Something that expressed the importance and ease of acceptance, you know? Hey, if you read after me, you can cover for me by telling your story while I’m dragged from the garden.”

“I think I’ll just stand guard until you finish.” Steve answered. “Censorship and intolerance re just more forms of bullying.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” TJ’s smile was wry. “What will likely happen is nothing. For now. Then sometime within the next week or month at the latest, my mother will get a scathing complaint, which will miraculously find her, even beyond all the grateful notes, and I’ll be subjected to a phone call.”

“Give her the book.” Steve grinned. “As a gift, inscribe it with a preemptive note asking her to read the book before she decides you need to be brought in for questioning.”

“You’re sneaky more often than not.” TJ smirked, “I’ll do that, as long as I can put your book with it.”

“I think all politicians can use a reminder about bullying. It’s a deal.” Steve held a hand out to TJ to shake on it.

“Deal.” TJ laughed, shaking Steve’s offered hand.

Steve followed TJ through the labyrinth of people to stand on the edge of the area for the cooking demonstration. He wasn’t surprised that TJ went quiet. He was always respectful when Steve was showing him something in the kitchen. What did surprise him was TJ’s rapt attention in this case. He wasn’t ever sure if TJ enjoyed the tedium of baking, but thinking back, TJ always paid attention.

“You should have volunteered to d o a cookie decorating station or something.” TJ said at the end of the demo. “On second thought, you’d be there all day, sticky and hot.”

“It doesn’t sound inspiring.” Steve admitted. “I could sit in at one of the tables though. You could too, you’re getting pretty good.”

“Yeah, besides, they’re just kids with little spatulas and lots of sprinkles.” TJ laughed. That’s about my speed. and… now a cookie sounds good. You didn’t volunteer to make those thousands of sugar cookies did you?”

“Nope, so I can’t vouch for their quality.” Steve shook his head. “Want to go fake our way through a cookie demo?”

“Let’s do it.” TJ clapped Steve on the shoulder. “Shit. I hope my mom is watching this. We’re being such great role models.”

“Sometimes it’s better to do good deeds without expecting notice.” Steve bit the inside of his cheek to curtail his humor.

“You’re in the wrong business.” TJ smirked. “You may have a point, Jedi Rogers.”

“You learn well, young Padawan.” Steve jostled TJ and had to pull him back when TJ almost tripped over an escaped toddler. He managed to help TJ remain upright before any collision could happen, and they simultaneously agreed they should stop horsing around and make their way carefully to the cookie tables.

Steve surveyed the South Lawn, which was colorfully pixelated with kids and parents, all dolled up for spring. It made a pretty, joyful picture, one he wouldn’t mind painting. Between helping kids with cookies and taking in the large crowds, envisioning a canvas full of paint recreating the image, Steve must have gotten lost in his own head. He looked up when TJ jostled his shoulder and asked, “you ok?”

“Yeah.” Steve smiled up at TJ. “You have purple icing on your cheek.”

TJ swiped at the spot, grinning. “I had help.”

“This has to be why I do it, right?” Steve asked, with a sweeping gesture across the crowded space. “When I get tired and jaded, I have to just think of these kids.”

“If that motivates you.” TJ sat down next to Steve. “We’re about due for Story Time. After that, what do you say we go hang out on the perimeter of the main stage – I mean The Rock ‘n’ Egg Roll Stage – area?”

“It doesn’t mean the same thing to you, does it?”

“Steve, you're the kid my parents should have had.” TJ put his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Yeah, I see the importance. I hear what you’re saying, but I don’t feel the same motivation. I do see the joy and that I can get behind. I like the idea of entertaining people and making them feel this, but I also realize the importance of people like you, and Dougie. Even my parents, because joy’s only temporary if the every-day quality of living isn’t up to snuff. So, sure, it means something. That’s what counts, right?”

“How did you get purple icing on your cheek?” Steve asked belatedly.

“A very artistic young man was very passionate about his cookie decorating. I might have encouraged a little excess – as I am known to enjoy.”

“As you should.” Steve nodded. “I was about to get offended if you instigated a food fight without me.”

“You woulda noticed.” TJ said, leaning forward on the chair, resting his forearms on his thighs. “I can’t start a food fight on the same day I’m serving a sentence for sledding down the steps.”

“No. That wouldn’t’ look good. Nobody really knows about that, right? I mean, outside of your mother’s office and the family?”

“No,” TJ laughed, “Although, like I told Nana earlier, it really is one of my minor offenses.”

“Mine too.” Steve admitted. “I mean there was that whole Project Insight thing.”

“Right.” TJ nodded slowly, “Because saving the world, again, should go on your list of offenses. I don’t want to cause any trouble, and trust me I would never tell my mother, so how’s the search going?”

“Not incredibly favorable. For me, for him? I’m sure this is the plan.”

“One of these days, when everything is right with the world, I really would like to get some pointers from him. I thought I was good at not being found.”

Steve laughed in spite of the topic, “I’m sure you two would enjoy swapping derelict stories.”

“Is there anything I could do?”

“Just keep doing what you have been doing.” Steve looked at TJ, seeing so much Bucky. “You know you aren’t a replacement friend, right?”

“Sure.” TJ shrugged. “I’d never even considered that. We can’t be too much alike.”

“More than you’d expect.” Steve nodded. “Come on. Let’s get this Story Time thing out of the way. Will you be performing on the Main Stage today?”

“Uh. No.” TJ shook his head, standing up next to Steve. “That’s not one of my obligations, or aspirations, for today.”

“I understand what you’re saying.” Steve really did get it.

“Are you ok with today?” TJ asked as they walked around yet more kids, people, barricades, and volunteers.

“Yeah, this isn’t the same as making some costumed appearance somewhere. People know who I am, ad I get to wear jeans and a button-up and enjoy the festivities. If you had anything to do with that, I want to thank you.”

“You know I didn’t. You’re the one who pretty much roped me into this with the “you know she’s right TJ” business. I should have lobbied for having you in full uniform.”

“So you say.” Steve replied, taking two water bottles from a volunteer. “I don’t believe you.”

“Of course you’re right.” TJ toasted Steve with the water bottle he was handed. “Too many people already expect so much from you because of their idea of you, Everybody deserves to get to know who you really are.”

“Speaking from experience?” Steve spotted Elaine Barrish and her cluster of security entering the Story Time area. “You’re up, TJ.”

TJ looked up at Steve and then nodded toward the other end of the space. “Ok, here goes. It’s a good story. I shouldn’t be bodily dragged away, right?” TJ asked with a quirked brow.

“In ancient times, you’d be stoned.” Steve smirked.

“In not so ancient times, I’d be stoned.” TJ laughed.

“Hilarious.” Steve shook his head, a vague feeling of mortification had washed over him as he realized what he’d said, and when TJ joked it away with utter joy, he relaxed.

Steve watched Elaine greet TJ again, with another hug. That was something Steve hadn’t realized he missed. Hugs weren’t what people wanted from him, except for the occasional brave little kid. There were the select few outgoing kids that would run up and hug him. However, to hug somebody, to be hugged by somebody, Steve sighed, filled with longing.

“…Mrs. Abbot had a surprise for the class!” TJ read, ”…We’re going to have a celebration for Mother’s Day,” She said, “and each of you can invite a special guest. Jonathan and Leon said they’d invite their moms. Carmen was sure her mamá would come. But Stella had two dads.

“Everyone else had a mother, Howie had two! Stella would be the only one without a mother at the Mother’s Day party.”

“Barring certain circumstances,” Steve jumped when he heard Elaine Barrish next to his ear, speaking confidentially, “you’re a good influence on TJ.”

“Thanks.” Steve glanced from TJ reading to a crowd of attentive kids, to the president. “He’s been a good influence on me too.”

“Are you two dating?” That wasn’t the president. That… was a mother.

“No.” Steve noticed a hint of disappointment in her reaction. “If TJ and I had the same interests, I wouldn’t mind dating your son. You wouldn’t know any women with his temperament and personality, would you?”

“I’m afraid TJ is one of a kind.” Elaine smiled. “It’s a shame. He deserves somebody like you.”

“He deserves somebody who cares for him. In that regard, we agree. He also deserves to make his own choices. Even after not doing so well at it.”

TJ looked up from his finished story to see his mother lean in to say something to Steve. What that could be ranged from problematic to downright annoying, but Steve’s smile reassured him that it couldn’t be too embarrassing. He hoped.

“I’d like you all to meet my friend Steve.” TJ said, standing up. “Some of you might have heard of Captain America, but when he’s not working, people call him Steve Rogers. I call him my friend and my neighbor. Steve has a story to share with you all today too. Steve?”

TJ smiled and clapped with the kids as Steve extracted himself from the conversation. They switched places, and TJ joined his mother while the kids continued applauding Steve.

“You're really Captain ‘Merica?” a small voice interrupted the ovation as Steve sat down on the white iron bench.

“I really am. Sometimes.” Steve straightened the collar of his pastel plaid shirt, looing almost comfortable in the spring setting, surrounded by flowers and children. He reached for his book on the bench next to him and started reading.

“What were you telling him?” TJ asked his mother quietly.

“I asked him if you were dating.”

TJ closed his eyes and took a bracing breath. Of course she didn’t even deny it. “Of course you did. You could have asked me.”

“What are you doing TJ?”

“Mom? I’m friends with him. I have no expectations, and as attractive as he is, you might not believe this, but we’re really good friends with zero awkward complications. Aside from family interference, that is.”

“The “two dads” story?”

“A book that I didn’t write. It’s a cute story for all kids, without any hidden meaning. I wanted to share something about acceptance and representation.” TJ lowered his voice. “You need to borrow Steve’s anti-bullying story and take a breath.”

He expected any number of responses. A cuff on the back of the head was least likely, given the cameras that were everywhere. Including on them and Steve right now, but a pinch or a stern word were absolutely within the realm of possibilities.

However, there was nothing but an odd look of consideration that crossed her face as TJ watched her out of the corner of his eye. He was shocked when she took his hand tenderly, and just held it, listening politely as Steve finished his story.

“We’re done with our obligations. Next up, we’re going to watch some of the entertainment on the Rock ‘n’ Egg Roll Stage.” TJ said quietly. Then whatever Steve decides he wants to do next, since this is his first Easter Egg Roll. Tell Nana and Dougie they should get out and enjoy the kids’ energy.”

TJ followed Steve out of the area, leaving his mom to her turn on the story bench. He should feel guilty about not staying to watch, but in the increasing heat and moments of frustration, she was an added trigger to his growing agitation, and he needed to break free from all of that.

“You ok? Steve asked as they cleared the area, working their way toward the outer edge of the crowd at the stage. “That looked intense.”

“I’m sorry about her, and her well-meaning questions.” TJ shook his head, “she accused me of using the story to – I don’t know where she was going with that, to be honest.”

“It’s ok. I just told her the truth.” Steve shrugged.

“You shouldn’t be in that position. Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I can’t be friends with a guy without having expectations, and I know you know that… she just knows how to push my buttons.”

“I do know that, and I thought I made sure she did too. I’m afraid it’s not either of our faults. She worries.”

“She doesn’t trust. I get it, I’ve betrayed too many trusts, but you?” TJ shook his head, “If you set her straight, why go after me? I guess she wanted to make sure I knew there wasn’t a chance.”

“She shouldn’t be doing that. That’s my job. If that were the situation, which we both know it’s not.”

“I hope she didn’t make it weird for you. I’d hate it if my mom ruined the comfort of our friendship. I don’t open up to too many people, and you’re one of them.”

“If she made any relationship unstable, it’s hers and mine TJ. I’m happy to leave it all back on that piece of lawn if you are. So, who’s next up on the stage schedule?”

“I don’t even know.” TJ admitted, flipping through his phone. “I just thought this would put us on equal footing. If you’d rather go to the sports stage, and I don’t know, play basketball or something…”

“You’re hoping I’ll say no.” Steve laughed, “what makes you think I’m going to be any good at basketball?”

“You’re all fit and superhuman. Doesn’t that make you good at basically everything?”

“How are you at tennis?” Steve countered. “I see you as a tennis kid growing up. Am I close?”

“I played a little.” TJ admitted. “Douglas is your guy, if you want competition. Or if you’re feeling nostalgic, there’s an obstacle course.”

“Nostalgic?” Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s the word I’d use for my feelings about my obstacle course experiences.”

“Ooh, do tell.” TJ goaded, folding his arms expectantly.

“Another time, when it’s not so hot, or loud, or crowded, let’s say the same for sports, ok? I like your idea of melting into the crowd and just listening for a while.”

Steve looked across the car to see TJ smiling. He smiled too. It had been a long day, but it was rewarding. “Any regrets?” Steve asked TJ.

“About today? No. Escaping without saying goodbye was just icing on the cake.”

“Even your grandmother?”

“You mean Maggie?” TJ teased, “You do realize she left long before we did, don’t you?”

“You're probably right.” Steve laughed.

“She was just there to see us get our comeuppance.” TJ continued. He leaned against the seat’s headrest. “It was a pretty good day.”

“It was.”

“How about you? Any regrets?”

Steve thought about the question, and nearly denied having any. He couldn’t do that to TJ, who was always transparent with him. It took the better part of the drive to come to the realization. As Steve steered the car into the parking lot of their building, he looked at TJ. “Regrets? I don’t have any regrets from today, but I did realize something this afternoon.”

Steve watched as TJ waited for him to continue, so many things came to mind, he was coming up short on the best way to express himself. He turned the key and got out of the car.

TJ walked around the car, leaning against the door next to Steve, holding a cigarette between his thumb and forefinger, “you mind?”

“No, of course not. You know? It used to be my mom and Bucky propping me up. I guess it just rubbed off on me a little late.”

“I don’t understand.” TJ said after lighting the cigarette and taking a bracing drag.

“TJ, I’m sorry if my being around your family today made you feel inferior. I’m even sorrier for negating your feelings by trivializing their behavior. It sucks that they still make you feel that way. There were several times when you expressed it, and I just passed it off. That’s not what friends do.”

“Yeah it is.” TJ smiled. “When that’s the appropriate thing to do at the time. Saying I was right wasn’t going to help get us through the day.”

“I just think… it really is shitty that you believe they’d be happier if I was…”

“It’s shitty that it’s true.” TJ laughed, smoke curling around his face, “I know they love me, but they don’t understand me, never will. Forgiveness comes hard, and I really blew it, often. Steve, you’re a tough act to follow, but I’m trying.”

“You shouldn’t have to. I’m…”

“To them, you’re a legend. Not to me, to me, you’re the guy I got into trouble with.” TJ laughed. “The guy who basically warned me to never start a food fight without including him. You’re my friend.”

“Today wasn’t half bad.” Steve thought of all the colorful, smiling children, the fun he and TJ had stirred up in their unofficial volunteer cookie decorating and hula-hoop events. “Thanks for letting me drag you through it. You could have been hiding behind the doors until your required appearances, but you really put your time in.”

“I did no such thing. I hung out with you, if you had a good time, that’s what matters. I’ve never really seen it from that angle before.” TJ flicked ashes away from them and the car, tossing the butt at his feet. Grinding it out with his heel, he breathed the smoke out, and fresh air in. “When I was little, I would have loved doing everything we did, but I was always rushed inside until the required appearances. I had fun today. It definitely exceeded this morning’s expectations.”

“That’s what matters.” Steve echoed TJ’s sentiment.

“What’s still bothering you?” TJ asked, turning to lean an elbow on the car’s roof.

“Nothing.” Steve lied. Was it a lie? Nothing was bothering him, but he was still standing around as if things were in limbo.

“If you say so.” TJ shrugged, “You just seem to be pensive.”

“I would be continuing the crappy friend them if I said you’re cracked, right?”

“If you used that as an excuse, it would be pretty crappy. What’s bothering you?”

“I’m glad it’s over, but I didn’t want it to end.” Steve said before he could censor himself, “It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything remotely family oriented around a holiday, and it was good.”

“You know that’s not true, we did the gingerbread house at Christmas.”

“Well, when you’re right, you’re right.” Steve nodded.

“So, you’re stuck with me for yet another family holiday. I guess that makes it official. You’re an honorary member of the family. As such, you get the warnings ahead of time, because you don’t just invite people into the Hammond clan without a great big neon caution sign.”

“I appreciate the red flags and flashing lights.” Steve laughed, feeling just a little less lonely.

“To seal the deal,” TJ pulled Steve into a hug. The kind Steve had watched TJ give to Maggie, the kind where you didn’t want it to end. How TJ knew that’s all Steve had been missing, Steve wouldn’t be able to say. When TJ pulled away, he hooked an arm across Steve’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s go inside. It’s getting cold out here without the sun. I’ve mastered my new coffee maker, and I have some of the treats you brought by yesterday.”

“Thank you TJ.”

“Any time Steve.”

#tj hammond #steve rogers #m/m platonic friendship #neighbors #easter egg roll #avenger-nerd-mom #long post #fic rec

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senescenceandsensibility · 4 years

Text

Conflagration

There wasn’t enough going on so California decided fire would be good. I’ve talked about it before, what wildfires do to my sense of calm, but I’m somewhat spared this year by my ignorance of geography here in NorCal. There’s technically a fire in my town, but it’s on the other side and it’s a big town and that’s about all I know. The air quality is terrible, the app says “smoke” instead of “sunny” or “cloudy.” If one were worried about things like lung capacity and shortness of breath, for some reason, one could really work oneself into a state.

There are more than 350 fires in the state right now. I mean, it’s fire season, that’s what they call it. This year it was a lightning storm that really got us going. It was beautiful, I was delighted by it. But I didn’t know what it would mean. And this year it will be especially bad, because the labor we traditionally count on for fire season – the unpaid slave labor in the form of prisoners – is fighting a virus epidemic in the jails. So just like everything these days, we can see a little more clearly how awful everything has been and is, but we have no resources or will to change it. And the fires still burn, and not just the literal ones.

There’s nothing but bad news right now, I’m not sure what to even write about. I feel a numb sort of fine. Just going about my business, maybe not as focused or enthusiastic as I might have been a year ago, but plodding along. There’s a low-level roiling underneath it all. Fear, anxiety, hopelessness. Nothing new or really interesting, even. I imagine we’re almost all in roughly the same place.

Work is good, it’s almost surreal how we’re working on our schedule despite the world burning and the failed nation state and all. No one mentions all that. If it weren’t for the masks and the signage, or most of us working from home, you’d think this was an alternate timeline.

After six months, I’m feeling more comfortable about my place there, more like I belong, which is nice. Still not totally secure – never that – but a little more entrenched. A little more like I have the answers and, more importantly, can figure it out when I don’t know. From the outside it probably reads as “good employee,” but it’s the usual “please don’t get mad” that really steers this particular craft. Also, please don’t fire me, and please maybe love me a little. Where would I be without all that?

I have a CT scan scheduled for tomorrow, after a truly stupid dance with insurance approvers. Nice to get it done, but I have a feeling this path will be a long one. The new fancy doctor laid out a future of incremental steps, with surgery very much a maybe and that decision quite a ways off. The infection looks to be a viral one, so there’s a chance it will go away, but my luck doesn’t run in that direction, so it’s hard to hope for that. For now, a scan. Maybe more biopsies – under general anesthesia, which makes one wonder why they don’t just remove it. (Well, keep wondering. That’s not how these things are done.)

I am realizing that my productivity is very much affected by my surroundings – even the number of open tabs on my browser or the untidiness of the desktop will hinder my work, my ability to get easily from here to there. I have to clear the decks or I can’t think. The house is another example, but I will spend part of today actually paying attention to it and trying to make it better. I know what I have to do, it’s not like it’s a mystery. But the person who writes out the to-do list and the one who has to do those things are not friends.

That’s not all it is, of course. I am scattered and scared, and it shows in these little ways. But I need to do what I can. And all the things that make me despair are still there, after all, no matter what I do. And I haven’t the slightest idea what to actually DO about all the things that need fixing right now, that’s the real problem. I am not, after all, a firefighter. And there are 350 fires.

#fire #wildfires

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thereisacatto · 6 years

Text

How I Had An Exotic Summer Week

Hi! This is Vy, as in Anchovy. I know, it's fishy. If you are reading this, you are about to know what I had decided to do to myself in the past few weeks... You probably wonder, how on Earth would I remember everything? Well, I don’t, but in this case, I think a pocket-sized notebook would come in handy to write things down.

I have thought about this, I read about this, and I should have prepared for it a long time ago, but now, I'm doing it. I am going to survive in the wild for a week. I repeat. SURVIVE. For a week. That means I'm going to be starved for 168 hours and potentially get eaten by wild animals, etc. And, there will be rules to this, just to make it hard.

Here is how it all started.

It was a bright sunny day. I was doing homework and there was this thought that came to me. You know, my life so far, is really mundane. I sleep, I eat, I go to school, I go home, do homework, then sleep, eat, go to school, go home. The next thing I know, I will be graduating, go to college, find a job, get married, get old and die. It feels like a cycle and I am programmed to be in a stimulation. Maybe I hadn't done anything adventurous at all. Now that I thought about it, I imagined getting away from all the stress in life and live in nature. But no, I decided to not stop at the word “imagine”. I wanted to experience it, how tormenting it could be to have no support from devices. Don’t ask me why I only live once. As long as I am still young and daring, nothing can STOP me. Except for the police, ... and my parents.

Back to the story.

As a person whose IQ level is enough to survive in this brutal life, I knew I couldn’t just jump out in the wild, crossing my arms across the chest and firmly state, “COME AND GET ME !!!” That’s just pure ignorance and I might die out there if I pissed off Zeus. As I have said, there are rules to make it hard, so no phone, laptop, TV, no transportations, no extra help from outsiders, in that case, I'm all alone.

First thing first, I needed to pick a place. The woods in my hometown would be nice. It's behind my grandma's backyard. Really dark at night, no one is there in the morning, perfect for an adventure. It probably has wild animals there, too. I choose this particular place because I can find foods and there are supplies that help me make a shelter as well.

As soon as I got there, I said goodbye to everyone and told them that I wouldn't be back in a week. I also told them that if I didn't get back, they knew what to do. It was 1 pm at that time. I wanted to start early so that I can prepare things efficiently. In preparation for this adventure, I had bought a few supplies. I had things like cutting tools such as knife and sword that could help me chop bushes and branches to build shelter; light sources like candles and flashlight would help me navigate at night; a canteen and a pot would let me contain water and cook anything. Also, warm clothes and bug spray. Please hear me out, I had to find a job to but these supplies, so I didn't use my parent’s money to get all this stuff. What I also needed was food. I mean, berries weren't enough for my empty stomach. Canned food should be enough for me to put up in a week. They wouldn't cost me a lot for a week.

I have to tell you, it was extremely muggy and humid, and I hadn't really been out there for a while. I had to find a land that I wanted to set up my shelter. Not only did I need to get water, but I also had to make a fire to purify it because I would be getting my water from a river and it wasn't very hygienic. I couldn't get any more luck. There was some flat ground with trees to support. It was right next to a river so when I got thirsty, I could just go down there, get some water and boil it up. I planned to make a fire near my shelter to keep the bugs out. I was trying to mentally prepare myself. Wish me luck!

On my way to find supplies, I came across these bamboos that could help me build a bed frame and a mattress. Thank goodness that I brought the sword, I used it to chop the bamboos. I almost chopped my hand off when I did that. Always learn from your mistakes before you make them. FUN FACT! Bamboos actually hold a little bit of rainwater at the top, so it saved me from dehydrating. My dad showed it to me before I head off. Thanks, dad.

I was going to need some woods for my bed frames, but the problem was, it was kind of far away and I had to carry it all the way back. I kid you not, they were heavy. Long story short, I plugged 4 pieces of woods and then placed the bamboos on top. Yay, I got the mattress now. I needed the roof in case it started raining. I used the bushed and again, put it on top.

Time to make some fire! I picked up the stones and some small branches, placed it around and used my fire lighter to support it. The moment of joy burst inside me as soon as the fire started, all the hard work had paid off. I parched, I was worn out. I probably would have given up if the fire didn't start. I was waiting for it to get really hot, then I would fill up my canteen with water and boil it.

It was getting dark really fast. I wanted to try the bed out so bad, and frankly speaking, it was so comfortable. Mainly because I hadn't rest for the whole day. That was day 1.

Day 2 I woke up with the painful feeling of bug bites. Nothing was greater that that. My fire also went out. I was going to eat something but soon realized, I ran out of it. I didn't bring enough for a week and already used all of it in 1 day. Something was wrong with me, really. I needed to make money to buy some more. There was a road 1 mile away, I could sell fresh bamboos to the passers-by. They liked it, I guess. I made about 10 dollars in 2 hours, which gave me 70$ a week. Everything is really cheap in my hometown so that much amount of money could really help me. The only thing was I had to walk 1 mile to the road with an empty stomach. Not so empty since I already ate some berries I found in the bushes. Didn't taste really great but enough for me to put up. I ended up going to the store nearby to grab canned food.

I had never been dirty for so long in my life. I dip myself in the river and felt so refreshing. Fast forward, I was looking for some berries, a few raindrops splat my arms and before I knew it, the sky opened up and the sound of thunder was reaching. I needed to secure my shelter firmly with tape. That was the only place I could hide then. I was really scared. As quick as I could, I made another small shelter to keep waterproof. I tried to light up my fire, but it was too late. I had to hide under the shelter and prayed for the storm to go off. Too worn out, I fell into sleep.

The next thing I knew, it was the day after. Everything was alright, I was still alive. My shelter wasn't blown away, otherwise, I would have to build another one. Now that I had food, a fireplace, a bed, and a shelter, I could finally relax I guess. I brought a survival guide book beforehand, so this could kill me some time. I could also learn a lot from this. I learned that I should be mindful of the environment and stay calm if encountering a snake. They said that not to make any sudden movement towards the snake because we are not their target. They are just out there to find a place to get warm. Also, I learned that we should make loud noises to drive the snake away. They don't have ears but are sensitive to vibrations, they could flee to a quieter place. Luckily, I did not see any snakes. Yay!

It was really boring without any electronic devices since I am so used to having them around, also, I had nobody to talk to. I needed to plan out what I should do for the rest of the week. From 6-7am was when I would wake up and prepare stuff. Then I went to gather the bamboos from 8 to 9. I would sell them for 2 hours and 30 minutes walking down the road because I had no energy. I went back for half an hour, then washed in the river. Spending another 2 hours catching some fishes and boiling water. Later on, I would continue reading the book and walked around the woods to see if I can find some food or maybe learn something new. Normally, I wouldn't go to sleep early but since living in nature was an exception, so I just wanted the week to pass quickly so I could go home.

And you know, 7 days went by. I can't believe that I slept outside for a while. Goodbye bamboos, goodbye storms, goodbye bugs, I am going back to civilization. You have it, I went home, took the longest shower of my life and had a sound sleep as if everything was just a dream. End of story.

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