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pandawriterstuff · 3 years

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Pinehallow Summary & Character List

This is my main WIP, if I'm complaining about characters doing whatever they want, this is them.

Pinehallow Summary-Monty, an eleven year old boy who has spent most of his life traveling from place to place with his in-demand lawyer mother, Irene, is sent to live at his uncle's horse ranch because she thinks he needs roots. Used to nearly everyone but his mother not being around long enough to get to know, Monty is more than a bit uncertain about this. But in scrambling to find his place in a town different to anything he's ever known, he finds friends, both human and animal, makes discoveries, and even manages to foil a plot against Pinehallow Ranch itself.

Character List

Monty (Montgomery) Cade Waller- Main character, 11, white. Monty is curious, bright, and more than a little awkward. He has a tendency to state the obvious, which can be endearing or annoying depending on your perspective. Big vocabulary and grown-up way of speaking because he’s spent more time around grown-ups than other kids. He’s quietly stubborn, particularly when it comes to being told he’s wrong when he knows he’s right. Insecure about socializing and friendships because of constant moving and traveling. Can’t hold a grudge for the life of him, even when he likely should. He likes bugs, birds and turtles, would rather read nonfiction than a story. Fills lonely afternoons with sketching, nature sketching on the ranch.

Irene Waller- Monty’s mother, 36, white. Irene is a powerful corporate lawyer, either full of energy or exhausted, never in between. She loves using words to sway minds and deciphering documents to find exactly what the opposition doesn’t want her to find. Sometimes Irene wishes she was using her skills in more meaningful ways, but also really likes the money, the traveling, and the competition. Has an almost encyclopedic knowledge of show tunes from musicals. She has a hard time letting people get close. Would stab someone for her baby, but knows it’s better to teach him to stab for himself. Only partially joking. Dolly Parton is her hero, and as much as she loves her music, it’s Dolly the business woman and Dolly the philanthropist that she strives to emulate.

Keith Waller- Monty’s uncle, 34, white. Horse Rancher. Keith loves working hard and getting dirty, and if he’s not exhausted at the end of the day he’ll be looking for something else to push him there. Otherwise he gets antsy. Loves animals and absolutely will not tolerate anyone mistreating any of the animals on his ranch-ordinarily he’s very careful of his size and strength, in that situation, all bets are off. Times that by about ten for any of the ‘barn rats’ that help around the ranch for riding lessons/time. Loves romantic comedies and telanovas and doesn’t care who knows it. Keith doesn’t read a lot, it never came easy to him, but if he’s taking a long trip he’ll always check an audio book or two out of the library instead of just relying on the radio.

Juniper - Keith’s goddaughter, 15, white. She has a calm, confident personality with a smile for most everyone she meets. If she doesn’t have a smile for you and it isn’t because her head is in the clouds over a girl, you’ve probably earned her scorn and will be ignored as much as possible. Juniper raises rabbits and it’s taught her patience, and a lot about unfairness when a kit doesn’t make it. She helps out with riding lessons at the ranch in exchange for riding time of her own, and has become a fixture, spending more time there than she does at home, and when she can get away with it, school. Loves sunflowers and her sunflower comforter is probably her most prized possession.

Nell - Caretaker/cook for the ranch house(would cooking lunch for the workers still be a thing on a modern ranch?). 38, white(?). Not about to put up with nonsense. Will make you cookies if she doesn’t have to put up with nonsense. Please. At one point she wanted to be a chef and has a year of culinary school under her belt, but quickly decided the super fast paced and competitive environment wasn’t for her. Anything that was making her hate one of her favorite things that fast could not be good for a person. She intends to live a long, long life and that kind of stress can just walk right out of the door. Loves to go on long walks, often into the hills (BLM land) behind the ranch. (maybe she was taught/took a class on foraging, and teaches Monty to find wild onions and stuff? But this would mean *I* have to learn about foraging in Idaho.) This leads to a contented, if often silent, companionship between her and Monty, who desperately wants to explore/record/sketch everything about the natural world of his new home, particularly the parts that are off limits to him without an adult along.

Ray- Family Friend/Co-Owner of R & M General (designed to feel vintage, but shiny. Bit of a tourist stop now, they decided to lean into it.), 50, Black. He uses his background in chemistry to make amazing looking candies and chocolates, using that to deal with a time he used it in less pleasant ways when he was in the military. He never expected anybody outside of his small town, or maybe the folks at the county fair to make so much fuss over them. This might embarrass him, if he weren’t so delighted. A cheerful man with a dreamer’s heart, a magazine once referred to him as a small town Willy Wonka. He dotes on his wife, often making and gifting her small surprises. An amputee in honor of my Grandpa (missing left leg at the knee, possibly missing one arm as well, but I’m not sure how that would affect candy making.). Has certain parts of his past he just doesn’t talk about.

Mavis- Co-Owner of ____ with Ray, 48, Black. Fierce and kind in equal measures, Mavis believes in protecting what’s hers, and as far as she’s concerned the entire town of (oh my god, it needs a name) is included in that. Mavis is very selective about the battles she fights, but when she chooses one she throws herself in whole-heartedly. On several committees around town, she’d be on more, but then she wouldn’t have enough time to really get into the work of the ones she loves. She knits in her limited free time, often while listening to the news, but sometimes opera. Has started knitting stuffies in the shapes of the more unusual candies Ray makes, it’s silly, but fun, and tourists and the local kids love it. Still head over heels for Ray, even though his often dreaming about things for ages instead of just doing them is also still baffling to her.

Leanna - Juniper’s sort-of girlfriend, 15, Vietnamese. Quiet, a little cynical, but very empathetic. She avoids the news because it’s that or be mad and want to cry all the time-until she hears about something she can’t not research, and goes on a 24 hour google search and learns far more than is probably good for her about a species going extinct due to logging in prohibited areas, or genocide being covered up by claims of violent uprisings. She loves manga and comics. Leanna sometimes tries for a cottagecore* type aesthetic, but mostly thinks it's too much work. She’s starting to worry about what she’s going to do with her future, and people telling her that she’s only 15 and doesn’t have to worry about it yet is NOT HELPING.

*even though cottagecore isn’t a thing in the early-mid 2000s this is maybe/vaguely set in. Shh, let me have this. Anne of Green Gablesesque maybe?

Winnie - Leanna’s mom, 45, Vietnamese. Widow? A little ditzy, but a lot loving. Everyone in town is convinced she’s the stoner type of hippy, but no one minds as she’s someone who truly wants to know how you’re doing when she asks and strangely almost always has very spot on advice. She’s rarely on time anywhere, but that’s because she’ll have stopped to talk, and often to help, whoever she’s run into. Leanna and her bicker over this when she’s late picking her up. Always wears bright colors. Loves Agatha Christie books. Calls everyone, even people 50 years older than her, hon.

Logan - Juniper’s stepdad, 40, white. Kind of a jerk, but most of the jerky things he says are actually jokes that fall flat or have simply gotten old. Tries really hard, like *really* hard, but has a tendency to get annoyed if people don’t appreciate his efforts right away-more in his personal life than professional, possibly because of his profession. A contractor, hard worker, loyal, has worked for the same company since he was twenty even though they don’t often treat him right. Sometimes tries to buy people’s affections. Wants to have better communication with Juniper, but it’s gotten really hard the last few years and he’s never quite sure why.

Candice - Juniper’s Mom, 39, white, works at a nursery that sells seedlings and baby fruit trees, has a cheerful, calm personality, but a lot softer and more lowkey than Juniper’s version. Very house proud, but has a ‘maximalist’ approach to decorating-everything is in its place, but there are places for lots of things. Loves spending time outdoors, but would rather spend it tending her garden than hiking or riding, preferably with a cup of tea by her side. On the weekends, a fruity beer or wine instead. Wants to go on one of those train rides where you get to drink wine, eat canapes and try to solve a mystery, thinks Winnie might be a good candidate for someone to go with her.

Ura - a ‘barn rat’, 12 and a half, white(maybe a Czech immigrant? 2nd generation?) . A cheerful, rough and tumble boy who is always climbing things, and often being told to stop when he gets too high for other people's comfort. Ura is fearless when it comes to physical feats, but has a fear of ‘slimy’ things like worms and frogs. He has a thick layer of pudge and a big appetite, but is athletic and strong enough that anyone bullying him over it would be doing it at their own peril. Not that he’s the type to start fights, or even finish them most of the time. Doesn’t feel he quite fits in with his family, who are all more serious, reserved people. Redwood is his favorite of the horses, and Keith has all but given up on telling him that sitting on the floor of Red’s stall to talk to the horse isn’t exactly safe.

Elliot - Ray and Mavis’s son, Black, 19 and a college student-maybe/probably at U of I. Lives on campus, but comes home at least a couple weekends a month. Has an older car that he and Ray fixed up together, that is his pride and joy. Quiet, with an irreverent sense of humor that he unleashes somewhat at random. Interested in robotics, engines and mechanics and generally has some project he’s working on, a piece of which may or may not be in his pocket. Often has oil, grease, or ink on his hands, either from working on or designing a new project. A bit of an overachiever, he can spread himself thin trying to live up to all his responsibilities at once. He’s best friends with Randy, a friendship his parents want to disapprove of, because the few times Elliot’s gotten into trouble not only was Randy there, but 99% of the time whatever it was is Randy’s idea, but never quite manage too.

Randy - Handyman at the ranch, mixed race Hispanic and white, 21. Technically head handyman, because the old head retired six months ago, and is a little young/inexperienced for the job, but he’s not the type to back away from a challenge and has risen to the occasion beautifully. Loves rock and metal music, and spends a lot of his free weekends at concerts, the ones crammed into little venues and bars where people are practically on top of each other and the beat is so loud and solid it throbs through you, connecting you to everyone even before you hit the mosh pit, are his preference. He’s been working at the ranch since he was 16, and feels like he has a claim on it, not afraid to speak up if he thinks a decision Keith is making isn’t right or that he isn’t taking something important into consideration. Can be a bit wild when he’s not being the responsible one, definitely doesn’t always think before he acts.

Alma - Local artist/worker at R & M’s, Hispanic, 25. Alma is a painter and poet, a confident young woman who’s figured out that half of surviving as an artist is being your own agent/a salesperson as well, and in addition to several shelves at the R & M that hold postcard prints of many of her pieces, both the coffee shop and cafe have some of her larger paintings displayed, and she always has a booth at the Saturday market, though the majority of her sales come from her website. Alma is cheerful, and likes to tease, and growing up the middle child of four brothers, is very able to hold her own in verbal sparring. She’s close with her family, still living with her parents, and while at first her father was dismayed at her choice of career, he now hands out her business card to basically everyone he talks to.

Miriam - Nell’s Mom, white, 71, a little deaf, speaks loudly, partially because of the deafness, partially because she spent too long letting other people push her around and when she hit about 50 decided she was going to be the one talking over people now. She’s earned it. Age has made her more delicate than she likes, bruising and scraping easily, but she’s determined to do most things for herself. Those that are beyond her she has no problem loudly ordering someone else to take care of. Volunteers a lot, often fosters kittens for the local animal shelter. Used to chain smoke, quit when Nell was a teenager because she kept leaving pictures of diseased lungs everywhere. Still uses the candy ones as a substitute.

Places

Unnamed Town- Somewhere in Latah County, Idaho, where there is not already a town in the way. Around 200 years old and has grown and shrunk and grown again, and currently has a population of about 12,000. Having grown out from a traditional mainstreet, _______ no longer has the western style boardwalk seen in old pictures, but it does have a large cluster of local businesses and ‘hot spots’ still along that old main street, a coffee shop, a diner, a combination bookshop and independent library, a hardware store, a bar, a few places I haven’t thought of yet, and of course R & M General. There is a historical barn half a mile or so away from mainstreet that has been converted into a theater/meeting hall/dance hall, and a community center was added onto it in the early 90’s. During the summer there is a farmer’s market on the property every Saturday. The elementary school and junior high are all on one property, several miles out of town, because the majority of families live on farms, ranches or small rural properties rather than in one of the neighborhood clusters in the town itself. The junior high is 7th, 8th and 9th graders, in a newer two story building, and the elementary school is divided into lower and upper elementary with the bracket shaped building basically being cut in half, K-3 on one side and 4-6 on the other. The high school is outside of town on the other side by several miles, and actually serves kids from another town(s) as well. There is also a trailer park with about forty units, not exactly sure where it is yet, but Miriam(Nell’s Mom) lives there. There is also an animal shelter, a vet’s office, a cemetery, and a couple churches, and I’m sure more things to come.

R & M General (working title?)- Ray and Mavis’s store, a general store with a candy focused twist. A vintage Pepsi sign, neon still bright, and a charming green glass juke-box filled with hits from the 1940’s onward grace the front porch of the R & M, along with a long bench that locals are encouraged to use for a spell or to listen to a couple songs, provided they can behave themselves (teenagers arguing over who their favorite member of the rat pack is might be amusing, considering they were already ‘mom and dad’, or at least older brother and sister, music by the time Mavis and Ray were teenagers, but when they get loud it also gets annoying.). The store itself still has the original wooden counter up front and built-in shelves along the walls, but all refinished and polished to a high shine. A mixture of display types going down the middle of the store, barrels and baskets filled with skeins of colorful yarn and cloth or Mavis’s knitted stuffies(and during winter sometimes socks and mittens), other sewing and craft supplies, display racks with local arts, postcards and carvings, sometimes wind up toys made by Elliot, and of course many, many displays of candies and chocolates. They also have a lot of dry goods, and some of the simpler candy types have little instruction booklets and the ingredients it takes to try out making them yourself stocked in the same display, drink coolers, and sometimes have local produce available. Basically, they have a bit of everything, except for building equipment/home repair supplies, and that’s because of the hardware store across the street.

Pinehallow Ranch-A sprawling 100 acre ranch in Latah County, Idaho where the Waller family has been doing something or other with horses for four generations now. Originally it was a horse breeding ranch, but Keith and Irene’s grandfather felt the money was in training horses, and offered boarding as well, and Keith has continued to build that up, offering lessons for a variety of styles, ages, and skill levels. Butting up against BLM land that allows additional grazing and trail riding, the ranch has four pastures, a large corral, a medium sized indoor arena and two horse barns, one for boarded horses and one for the ranch's own stock, and an equipment barn, an old bunkhouse that is mostly used to store feed-though Randy has slept there when in between places, mostly unbeknownst to Keith-and some smaller equipment sheds, placed where they’re needed. The main house is an L-shaped ranch house with a porch that goes around the entire long front of the house with a large herb/kitchen and rock garden arranged around that. There are treed pockets scattered here and there, left alone as the rest of the ranch was developed, but the creek Monty and Juniper sometimes hang out at is on BLM land, as is most of the forested area around the ranch.

Pinehallow Taglist @sleepysera @enchanted-lightning-aes @odysseywritings @thegreatobsesso @writing-is-a-martial-art and @hiitsolivia If anyone else wants to be added just interact with the post :) (My more advanced tumblr knowledge has led me to believe this is better than asking people to reblog/comment to be added, but if I'm wrong just let me know.)

#character list #oc list #someday I'll do a proper series introduction #and an introduction for me #but today is not that day #pinehallow ranch #original writing #I tend to build my world around the characters #backwards I know

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phantompearlsalt · 3 years

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Sour Cherry, Chapter 15

We’re taking a break from the smut this week, folks! This update I bring you more soft Kuvira, specifically moments where our favorite girl needs some extra loving. We don’t see Kuvira as feeling much of anything in the show but I think we can all imagine she feels deeply and intensely so...that’s what this is kind of. She just has someone to love on her and reassure her ❤️ As always, I love to read your comments so feel free to drop some on AO3 or leave me some messages in my inbox! LOVE Y’ALL!

Ba Sing Se

It’s not unlike Kuvira to fall asleep at her desk these days.

You’ve been in the Earth Kingdom capital for some time now, and although the worst of the violence has since subsided, the imminent work of bureaucratization poses an overwhelming task.

There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that Kuvira will fully restore Ba Sing Se to its former glory — even improve it. Given Suyin’s decision to remain complacent in the face of such chaos, Kuvira symbolized the steady hand that would guide a city in disarray into an era of peace and unity.

From the moment she took it upon herself to oversee this venture, she proved time and time again that few people—if any—could assume such an undertaking and carry it to completion. She managed to instill a persistent flame of hope in everyone, even beyond her army. There was a reason her popularity grew so rapidly among the local residents.

She was the beacon of light no one had expected to find but now relied on as a means of getting through this period of such great distress.

But at the end of the day, Kuvira is still human.

Despite having initiated a new kind of relationship with her, you’re ashamed to say that sometimes even you forget this simple fact. Kuvira is many things: above all else, she is a strategist. Of course, this mentality shapes every move and decision she makes in Ba Sing Se and this extends far beyond politics.

She’s methodical in her approach to life, modulating her demeanor in a way that allows her to easily adapt to constantly shifting environments, people, and interactions. In doing so, she often becomes a force of pure energy, steady and obstinate. After all, one doesn’t become the Great Uniter by projecting any degree of weakness. The Earth Kingdom needed somebody who embodied strength, fearlessness, and hope. They needed to reclaim that sense of certainty that had been shattered the moment all structure—however precarious it was—vanished upon the Earth Queen’s death.

So when you walk into your makeshift quarters, lit up only by the dwindling flame of her desk lantern, it’s a sharp reminder that even Kuvira reaches her limits.

You walk over to her slowly, paying extra attention to the weight of your feet against the floor. When you reach her, you kneel down and carefully drift your fingers towards her arm. She has them folded beneath her cheek, her lips parted just enough for a faint whistle to travel between her teeth. You touch Kuvira’s shoulder and stay still, not wanting to rouse her from slumber too brusquely.

She sniffles once and the sound makes something in your chest twinge so you press your fingertips into her uniform just enough for Kuvira to feel the pressure of your hand more surely. “Kuvira,” you whisper. “It’s me.”

Upon hearing your voice, her eyelids snap open and even through the dusty orange glow of the room you can see just how bleary-eyed she looks. You wonder if anyone has ever seen her like this, walls down and vulnerable, but the answer comes to you before you dwell on it too long.

“I’m sorry,” she says, flattening out her back so she’s leaning into her chair. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me…”

“I think I do,” you respond, inching forward until your lips softly press against her cheekbone. “Come on, let’s get you out of this stuff.”

Never having been the recipient of such doting, it takes Kuvira a few moments to respond but she eventually stands and walks over to your shared bed. You pull away the sheets of metal along her shoulders and forearms, carefully setting them aside while Kuvira pushes the breastplate off her torso and lets it clatter to the ground.

Once she’s cloaked only in her dark green uniform, she collapses onto the bed and looks just about ready to pass out. There’s one more thing left for you to do though.

You quickly kiss the crown of her head before crawling onto the mattress and finding a position along her back, your knees positioned around her hips. Kuvira’s braid is barely a braid anymore, mostly a disheveled rope of hair with some vague semblance of pleated folds.

You make quick work of it, dragging your fingers through the thick strands and undoing the knots you encounter. Once it feels loose and heavy, you reach for the brush on your nightstand and start guiding it from the roots to the tips along her back.

It’s a choreography you unknowingly crafted at some point when you could finally call Kuvira your lover but it’s one that you fall into so easily it’s as though you learned it another lifetime. Your fingers know exactly how to glide through the silk-like texture of her hair, how to hold the contours of the brush so your movements stay slow and gentle. Kuvira lets herself fall against your palm and you imagine this might be how a moonflower preens beneath the glow of a stainless night sky.

You aren’t sure how long you brush her hair but eventually her breathing evens out again and can’t tell if she’s fallen asleep. She starts inching forward and it’s sufficient indication that you’ve done your part.

With a loving smile, you set the brush aside and guide her onto the pillow. Leaning down, you let your lips hover over her temple before finally pressing them against the soft skin. Though you attribute it to a trick of the light, you fall asleep to the image of Kuvira’s cheek twitching against your touch.

---

Republic City

In the context of all that was to come, three years seemed like such an insignificant period of time. There was so much left to do to consummate the burgeoning Empire. The vast majority of the former Earth Kingdom now fell under Kuvira’s rule but there was still the matter of Zaofu. The United Republic of Nations.

Although Kuvira had successfully wrested the authority to rule from the young prince, the Earth Empire army knew it was only the beginning of a much larger mission. The past three years hadn’t been easy by any means but there was something unusually intimidating about annexing Zaofu and the United Republic.

Perhaps because it felt much more personal. Of course, you felt the connection of a common background with all Earth Kingdom inhabitants but Zaofu was your home. You grew up there...Spirits, you probably still had loved ones there.

And Republic City? Maybe it was the way people and communities hailed from all nations and found ways to live in relative peace after the horrific events led by Amon and then Unalaq. But even then, all of it seemed precarious when compared to the vision Kuvira was putting forth.

As you drive away from the Four Elements hotel, Kuvira’s hand wrapped tightly around yours, you think back to Zaofu once more but this time you aren’t met with images of your old library or the bright green fields that lay beyond the metal walls.

No, you think of Suyin. She was the last person Kuvira spoke to before you left Republic City. You had waited in the shadows of the hotel patio after the failed coronation, hoping it would shroud you enough to avoid being seen by any of the world leaders.

Just when you were about to make your way upstairs Kuvira stepped out of the elevator, flanked by her guards. “Everything has been packed,” she said coldly. “We’re leaving. Immediately.”

She didn’t wait for you to respond, instead charging forward without a second glance at her surroundings. The interaction left you stunned before you finally came to your senses and scurried close behind her.

The first few seconds in the Satomobile were almost tangibly uncomfortable. You wanted to ask how she was doing, to soothe whatever venom Suyin had undoubtedly said. There was a dark shadow cast over Kuvira’s face, one that you hadn’t seen since you first left Zaofu all those years ago.

Instead you stayed quiet, folding your hands over your lap and looking at the cityscape zooming by. Eventually, Kuvira’s gloved hand slid over yours, twisting between your fingers until your palms met in that familiar embrace you could distinguish even without first knowing it was her.

As the train comes back into view, you squeeze Kuvira’s hand, hoping the sentiment translates all the same despite your inability to verbalize them. The tension in her body doesn’t loosen up but she closes her eyes momentarily and lets out a slow, even breath through her nose.

For now, it’s all you can ask for.

---

The State of Yi

The meeting with Yi’s governor ended poorly. Even without Kuvira’s report, the smattering of ink dripping from the metal table was indication enough.

After exchanging a few curt words with the young airbending boy, she makes her way back into the train and calls an impromptu Inner Circle meeting. Bolin reluctantly leaves Opal’s side while Baatar joins without hesitation.

The conversation is awkward at best, deeply uncomfortable above all else. Kuvira keeps it together quite well for someone who had been shunned away mere moments ago but you’re certain no one else can see the fire of indignation in her eyes.

“There has to be another way to help them, right?” Bolin insists. “Can’t we just stay another day? If we bring Opal and Kai on board, I bet we could come up with another plan to help these people.”

“You more than anyone should know we cannot afford to waste our time on fruitless negotiations,” Kuvira snaps. “I will not sacrifice the wellbeing of our fellow citizens who are willing to accept our aid for a single governor who refuses to acknowledge the suffering of his people.”

Varrick, Bolin, and Baatar end up falling into a chaotic exchange of potential solutions that very quickly wears Kuvira’s patience thin.

“Enough!” she commands. You watch in silence as everyone freezes and slowly submits to her exasperation. “I have made myself clear. We will wait one day — not an hour earlier or later. If the Governor would rather see his people perish, I will not be held responsible. This meeting is adjourned and I expect no one to leave this train unless expressly informed to do so.”

Everyone nods and promptly makes their way out of the room. You make a move to join them but wait for everyone to get ahead first before sliding the door closed and pivoting back towards Kuvira.

She’s silently fuming — a vein sticks out from over her collar and her hands are woven tightly together behind her back. You imagine she might look composed to others who don’t notice those details but you’ve learned to see past the iron facade she forges around herself.

You fold your hands over Kuvira’s and feel the tension her fists carry, the way it courses all along her arms and bleeds into the rest of her body. Kuvira isn’t known for being a very relaxed person — she’s all hard lines and perfect posture, angled features and unyielding brow.

But this rigidity is different because it’s fueled by ire. Kuvira doesn’t take refusal well and with most of the Empire united, the Governor’s reluctance proves especially inconvenient.

However, she softens into your touch and you start to see her for what she really is, for what she only allows you to see. A woman on the brink of burnout. A leader nonetheless, so close to securing all she has worked towards, but which she has sacrificed too much to achieve.

She unfolds her hands and weaves her fingers into yours, letting her shoulders drop just enough for you to know this is helping to some extent.

And even though it lasts no more than a minute, because suddenly you’re interrupted by the voices of her guards requesting her immediate presence, when she looks at you there’s a softness along the corners of her eyes that hadn’t been there before.

---

Zaofu

The army is stationed immediately outside the Zaofu metal domes. Kuvira had left with Bolin and Baatar moments ago to meet with Suyin and hopefully come to an agreement that would eliminate the need for outright combat.

You insisted on joining her, afraid of what she might be subjected to and unable to accept that potential reality. You never knew the Beifong matriarch to resort to violent tactics but her response to Kuvira’s actions led you to believe anything was possible at this point.

Nevertheless, Kuvira had none of it. “I’ll be with Bolin and Baatar — I’ll be safe. I know Suyin. She knows better than to try anything of that nature with our army posted just outside her gates. I promise you I’ll return, unharmed,” she reassured, kissing you once before making her way outside.

You pressed your hands against the window, watching as the three of them grew into small green dots that eventually disappeared past the metal lotus structures. Kuvira was smart, you didn’t doubt that. She could absolutely hold her own. Yet despite her attempts to sway you otherwise, you still found it difficult to accept that Suyin wouldn’t try anything.

So you paced back and forth, sitting and standing, fiddling with your hands and carelessly flipping through papers on your desk until you heard guards murmuring and saw Kuvira’s silhouette making its way toward the tent.

She returns with Bolin and Baatar at her side again and you notice the former appears rather grim. Nevertheless, you’re instantly hit with the searing desire to throw yourself around her, to feel the heat of her blood beneath her skin and the bends of muscle and bone pressing against yours.

She’s here. Obviously she’s okay. But you can’t shake the need to confirm it by feeling her and knowing she’s uninjured.

Bolin starts talking, a nervous edge in every word, asking too many questions that ultimately set Kuvira off. She towers over Bolin, questioning his loyalty to the Empire, to her, and you stand in your corner silently. Baatar watches with an almost smug look on his face and it makes you scowl.

“Both of you are dismissed,” Kuvira says when she steps back. Still thoroughly shaken by the encounter, Bolin stays frozen for a moment before Baatar coughs and they step out of the tent in tense silence.

Kuvira sits down and leans forward so her fingers press against her temples. She sighs frustratedly and tightens her jaw. Even with all that transpired in the past ten minutes, that instinct to hold her close and just feel her doesn’t waver but you know better than to cave into it right now.

She does look up at you and her face has grown haggard with frustration in the span of seconds. It startles you how easily she conceals this side of herself, doing so in a manner that seems so effortless that she has everyone convinced that she really is impenetrable.

Right now, she lets the veneer crumble until all that’s left is an expression so openly cumbered with fatigue it seems to draw you in with arms of its own, tugging you forward until you’re at Kuvira’s side and she’s still looking up at you.

Every possible gesture seems inappropriate. What could you tell her that would offer that reassurance she needs? How can you be sure that’s what she needs at all? She’s being faced with the increasingly likely reality of using brute force to take that which once served as her home.

You don’t know when Kuvira’s cheek presses into your belly but when it does, your arms wrap around her head of their own accord.

Kuvira’s body speaks to yours in a language of gentle touches and unspoken pleas. Naturally, you have come to understand the meaning of each movement and your body responds as such. You hold her close to your body, feeling her head dip into the soft flesh, and smooth her hair over her scalp.

You aren’t sure what’s going to happen next. The Avatar is still gone. Despite Kuvira’s threat, you know Suyin will not acquiesce and there is still the possibility that she will try something horrible to stop Kuvira. And even if you manage to successfully take Zaofu for the Empire, that leaves Republic City.

But with Kuvira’s head cradled in your arms, her cheek dipping into your torso, all of that stops meaning something if only for a moment. Right now you have each other. Most importantly, Kuvira has you. And you’ll figure everything out as you go.

#sour cherry #kuvira/reader #kuvira x reader #kuvira legend of korra #kuvira lok #avatar lok #x reader #reader insert #soft #fluff #soft kuvira #anywayssssss I just wanna love n comfort her ugh

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whispersafterdusk · 4 years

Text

Lost in Time - ch 7

"Oh come on - you're going to eventually own more than two sets of clothing you know."

Eli had once said Gale seemed like 'an animated fellow' - if he was animated then Selene was animated to the power of ten; there were times she thought of the builder as a hyper little puppy and it wasn't a personality type she was entirely used to just yet so the woman's eagerness was a bit daunting sometimes.

"You've already spent a lot of money on me-" Eli started, only for Selene to make a hushing gesture.

"Yes, I have, and I've got gols to spare -- just to rub it in Higgin's face once I purposely made certain I stayed the number one top shop in Portia for three years in a row. That built up quite the savings and I'm not going to be spending it on myself anytime soon. Now come on - you need more than a bed and a tiny table. Go nuts!" the woman laughed, gesturing at the various furniture items that lined the walls of...was it Paulie? Paulie's store. ((Continued below cut))

She'd eventually decided on staying with Selene; Happy Apartments had reminded her too much of the barracks, and she...wasn't ready to deal with that constant reminder yet. So, the offered, spacious room at Selene's had been her choice, and Selene had awakened her bright and early to go furniture shopping. The bed was easy: a simple wooden frame and headboard that had an ivy pattern carved into it and a basic mattress; the frame and headboard were painted a nice cream color and the ivy was a deep green. Along with it she'd chosen a matching bedside table that had two small drawers built in, and she'd deemed that sufficient enough to start out with but Selene was...very insistent on furnishing the entire room.

There was another small table that matched the bed, and the builder woman kept "subtly" nudging her toward a bookcase with matching chair as well as a piece that was half dresser (with mirror) and half armoire; all of it was a pale wood that, while it wasn't the exact shade of cream as the headboard, was still a close enough color that it all could pass as a "matching" bedroom set.

"Even if I say no, this is going to magically turn up in my room isn't it?" she asked dryly.

Selene giggled. "Not 'magically,' no. If you like them, then let's get them -- Paulie'll even move them in for us."

"That's right! Because it's the manly thing to do for such a large order," the giant man laughed.

The man was...pretty obsessed with the word "manly" but his laugh was genuine; he and Selene had that same level of friendliness going on. Hopefully that friendliness would remain after he found out who she was and where (and when) she'd come from.

Anyway...back to the matter at hand. Apparently everything in the shop was something Paulie had made himself, and she had a feeling that everything she picked up now was as high quality as it looked and would probably last her several decades so at least Selene wasn't paying a premium for furniture that would fall apart in two years. "...fine, all right. But just these things and that's IT, got it?"

Selene snickered then held a hand out to Paulie; as Eli watched the man took a handful of gols (why the world had gone back to physical coin-based currency was beyond her) and dropped it into her palm.

"When exactly did you two have time to make a bet on her wearing me down?"

"As you were looking at the bed frames. When the smallish builder sets her mind to something very little will stop her," Paulie said. "And sometimes that means I lose a manly bet."

Selene pocketed the handful of coin, looking smug. "It was a righteous cause, I promise you. You deserve to actually have a comfortable living space."

"I'll have all this delivered by end of the afternoon," Paulie went on. "Did you have a floor plan in mind?"

"Nah, we can move it ourselves once you get it into the house," Selene replied. "Thank you Paulie." She gave the large man a hug and he returned it with enough force to lift the builder from her feet then waved at them as they headed out from the shop.

Outside the wind was blowing but the sky was clear; Eli zipped her jacket back up against the chill and looked to Selene. "Now what?"

"Well... Merlin is helping Petra check for any mention or pictures of the tool we need, so they're busy today. I wanted to wait to see if they found anything and I also have the factory building the last pieces of the lockable elevator car at the moment so even if I had all the measurements or assurances that I could go ahead and try casting that tool we need I'd still have to wait for that to finish. So...basically, we've got the day free aside from being home when Paulie delivers the furniture. Want to get a late breakfast?"

Eli opened her mouth to reply when a comically large set of scissors over a storefront across the way caught her attention. "-is that a salon?"

"Huh? - oh, yeah. Sanwa runs it - cuts, styles, and dyes hair. And beards, but that doesn't apply to you," Selene answered, grinning.

With a small smile she looked away from the scissors shining in the morning sun and back to the builder. "Don't suppose I could rely on your charity for one more thing, could I?"

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

The apricots Selene grew along the western fence line were juicy and tasted fantastic, and made a for a refreshing snack after an hour or so of moving furniture around.

Paulie had carried it all in and then she and Selene had pushed things into place; Selene was now off double checking on the final pieces of that locking car mechanism, and Eli was sitting on a stool in front of the fence with her back pressed to the wooden slats as she slowly munched on one of the last apricots the builder had gotten off the trees before winter had set in.

It seemed that along with new or hybrid fruits and vegetables a lot of plants she was familiar with had developed a rather long shelf-life on top of having shifted what seasons they typically grew in -- in this case, Selene's apricot trees kept producing right up to the first frost of late fall whereas the trees Eli had known in her time period had mostly stopped dropping fruit by late summer (and the apricots back then definitely hadn't lasted for a few months without showing signs of rot or withering). There was a single apple tree in the little "grove" along the fence and from what Selene had said the apple tree at least produced on a schedule that Eli remembered.

There were neat, orderly rows of planters next to the trees and while they were empty now there were little signs attached to them to identify what had been there: chili peppers, cotton (such a small amount though...surely that wasn't useful enough to grow so little of it?), green lettuce, pumpkins, wheat (again how was it useful to grow just a few tiny planters full, versus an entire field?)

It was a small comfort to actually see proof that not everything had changed so drastically but that was about all that was immediately familiar on the property.

In the planters among the normal plants Eli recognized were more of the weird ones: bamboo papaya, cornball (this one was at least...SORT of understandable? It seemed to be corn that just grew in an orb instead of a long cob), layered carrots (something that tasted like a carrot yet was shaped like a turnip and colored a stripey green and white that resembled neither vegetable), potato fruit (looked like an apple, tasted like a sweet potato), sisal... There were remnants of flowers that Selene had called rainbow flowers, and despite there being only withered stems and dried petals Eli could see the name was very fitting.

And over there, separate from the fruit trees, was a cluster of seven trees that were totally unrecognizable; Selene had called them nitra, zeolora, and crystella trees and Eli had never seen anything so bizarre as trees that grew...rock and crystal-looking "fruit" that hung heavy from the branches or leaked from the bark like a growth. Whatever or however the rocks and crystals grew the builder had said that the trees weren't ready to be harvested but had promised to let her help when it was time; what had gone wrong in nature to create trees that grew rocks?

No... What had gone wrong with the world that gave chemicals and biological weapons free reign to do all THIS?

'At least some of it's familiar...' she kept thinking to herself.

And she had to keep latching on to the familiar things, but there were precious few compared to everything that had changed... Plants were different, the trees were different (even the "normal" ones growing naturally around the shop - Eli didn't recognize those species at all), languages had disappeared, technology was gone...

And then there was all the people, and all the nations, that were gone too.

A twinge hit her in the gut and she leaned her head back against the fence behind her; the change in posture let the light breeze blow right down the front of her, through the little opening between the V-shape of the zipper on her jacket and the tiny gap at her collar bone where her sweater neck drooped slightly. The sudden stab of cold against her skin drew her attention away from the black hole of thought she was about to tumble down and she took a steadying breath.

After a few moments she did zip her jacket up to beneath her chin but she stayed leaning as she was; from the workshop and warehouse across the yard Eli could hear the noise of machines pounding and grinding away -- the locking elevator car was nearly done with only the front and back wall panels needing completion. The lock itself was fairly clever and Selene had seemed especially proud of herself as she showed it off to her earlier; it required both a physical key and a magnet of a certain strength to turn the tumbler and lift an inner locking bar that fit into the gap the door would ordinarily slide effortlessly into, and without the magnet to lift the bar you'd have to tear the entire door apart to get that bar up and out of the way (and by that point you wouldn't even need to as the door would be less a door and more a gaping hole).

Selene had selected a pile of magnets of various shapes and sizes but all roughly the same strength and the plan was only some of them would get a key and some would get a magnet (with a few exceptions - Gale would have both a key and magnet and so would at least one of the Civil Corps members). It essentially meant that it would take two people to get the car unlocked, which Eli considered a little overkill but was willing to let the mayor have the final call.

It did make her wonder what kind of war had just passed between the Alliance and this Duvos...Gale was dead set on absolutely nothing in those ruins falling into Duvos hands even though Eli knew there wasn't a chance in hell that anyone on the planet could replicate anything that could be found down there.

The thrumming and clanking of the workshop factory rather nicely covered up the sound of approaching hoofbeats coming from the direction of the city gates; Eli wasn't even aware Arlo had gotten that close until he'd said hello, and then she felt like an idiot at how she'd jumped out of her skin at the sudden greeting.

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

"Didn't mean to startle you, sorry."

Spacer nickered quietly - almost like the horse was also apologizing on his behalf.

Eli sat up from where she'd been leaning against the fence. "Not your fault, was just...thinking, I guess. I need to get back into the habit of listening for every little noise."

With a nod Arlo quietly gave her a once over; she was looking stronger every day, and now that she was out here with Selene she'd be right next to the Civil Corps usual jogging path. "-you're looking well. Does Dr. Xu have you exercising to build your muscles back up?"

"Not yet, but getting out to the facility and working inside it is doing a pretty good job of getting me back to what would be normal for anyone else. It's going to take a lot of work and protein to get back to what's 'normal' for me."

"When the Civil Corps does training exercises we usually start out with a run that begins at the gates and goes right by here - maybe you can start joining us, when we get back to it."

Eli smiled at him. "I'd like that. It'd be a good way to get the lay of the land too." She jerked a thumb over toward Selene's factory. "She's almost got the locking car done so whatever schedule you had before you ought to be getting back to soon."

Arlo gently nudged Spacer a little bit closer so he didn't feel like he was just a few levels shy of shouting at her to be heard over the noise of the factory going at full steam. "I'll be helping to haul it out and install it - how big is it?"

"Big enough to properly fit into the shaft, and with thick walls and door. The lock's actually pretty clever too."

"Good. We need clever to keep people out of there. Has Gale talked to you yet?"

He noted that she paused (it was barely perceptible - could've been mistaken for a flinch) before offering him another smile.

"Yeah, he has. This coming sunday the cat's out of the bag."

"I don't expect any trouble but Remington and I will be there regardless."

Eli nodded and an awkward silence fell; she took a halfhearted bite out of the mostly finished apricot in her hand but was chewing it slowly, like she didn't want to swallow it.

Sensing a change of subject was probably needed Arlo cleared his throat. "-your haircut is nice. Suits you."

"Thanks," came Eli's quick answer - the relief in her tone was palpable. She ran a hand through her hair; it was shaved almost to her skull on the sides and in the back, but the top had been left long enough to comb to the left. "It's how I wore it before. Fits better under helmets and there's less there for someone to grab a handful of if they manage to get close and I don't have said helmet on."

Ha...a haircut doubling as part of personal defense. That was something he hadn't given thought to before. "So you've met Sanwa then. What'd you think of him?"

"Chatty fellow. Selene mentioned I was new to the area and he started waxing poetic about Portia and how peaceful it is out here. I guess that's why you only need three Civil Corps members, eh?" she asked, chuckling quietly.

Arlo smiled faintly, shaking his head. "He does have a point. There's not a lot of interest in joining the Civil Corps because not a lot of people think we need a large group of us because Portia is so peaceful. Gale does have the budget set aside to hire on more people as needed or required, and Paulie helps out as he's able -- we did have a recent incident with a rogue knight that had people clamoring for more town security but that sentiment only lasted a couple of weeks."

"...a...rogue knight?" Eli repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Like, metal armor, sword, chivalry knight?"

"Sort of. He had some armor on and a sword but he was commanding an All Source AI and other AIs to attack Portia. We sustained some heavy damage but were able to fend him off with help from Django."

Eli let out a barked "ha!" before spinning on her stool to rest her arms on the fence and her chin on her arms. "I knew it. That man carries himself too confidently to just be a chef."

"He...what?"

"Django. I met him earlier when Selene and I got brunch. He walks and carries himself with a certain confidence and balance that I'd expect out of someone who's been trained in combat. Is the knight-theme of his diner just for show, or is he some sort of knight too?"

"He's retired. You could tell all that from watching how someone walks?"

Eli nodded. "You can. Might take a bit to notice with some more than others but with him it's a dead giveaway. If you ever want to learn what to look for I can teach you, no problem."

"I'll keep that in mind. Could be useful." Arlo glanced toward the door of the factory; he was tempted to get down and go check on progress but if Eli said Selene almost had it done he was willing to take her word for it. "I need to go on patrol. Would you like to ride along? Get the lay of the land, like you said earlier, and maybe we'll find somewhere you recognize."

Eli seemed to consider that a moment, then nodded; as she stood she whipped her arm and sent what was left of the apricot in hand whizzing toward the compost heap across the yard. Arlo tracked its arc and nodded approvingly as it landed on top and sent a small clump of rotting leaves and cornball husks sliding down the side of the heap.

"Nice throw."

"Thanks. I'll let Selene know where I'm headed and then we can head out."

She headed into the workshop and was back a few moments later; Arlo held a hand out and helped her mount up behind him before nudging Spacer into a trot.

Across from Selene's shop was Sophie's ranch; as they drew away from the workshop the hissing and pounding noises faded and the soft sounds of cattle and horses started to become apparent. The wheat fields had long since been harvested and as they ambled along Arlo could pick out tracks across the field were someone had been walking and another longer stretch that looked like someone had been sledding there. These spots and of course the areas where the cows and horses wandered had thawed out down to the ground underneath and stood out as dark, muddy spots against the remaining slushy snow that still clung to the ground (and was also a reminder of the mud they had to wade through daily to get to and from the facility as well).

"Were there any farms nears Dubei?"

"On the very outskirts, and also hundreds of community plots on the rooftops."

Arlo blinked. "On the rooftops? How?"

He heard a soft chuckle behind him. "Just a reinforced area able to handle extra weight of soil and water, good drainage, that sort of thing. Almost every roof had some sort of food garden or ornamental one - Dubei loved their greenery. Planters and trees on every street and corner, shelves to let vines come down the sides of buildings. Lots of potted plants inside buildings too. From far off it'd be easy to miss among all the lights, signs, and the glass reflecting everything but down in close, on the streets and in the buildings themselves, you'd see green everywhere."

"Sounds like a lot of work."

He felt movement against his back as she shifted, then "-not when you have AIs specifically handling the work."

"An AI for every task, sounds like."

From the corner of an eye he saw Eli nod. "They did the bulk of menial and hard labor, and of course were invaluable assistants in day to day goings on. Lots of data storage, for one."

"The historical records seemed to suggest AIs did everything for humans."

"NOT everything," Eli corrected, tone firm. "They couldn't do everything. And we couldn't trust them with everything anyway."

"Couldn't trust an AI? But I at least thought they were everywhere."

"They were. But would YOU want to trust every aspect of life to something that was one damaged power supply or corrupted file away from shutting down at the worst possible time?"

"I guess not."

They rode on in silence for a bit; the farm passed by and they were approaching the fields beyond Sophie's fences. He turned Spacer to the right and began to follow the fence line up toward where the air balloon platform was. In full view from here was the water wheel that fed an irrigation system for the tree farm, as well as two towering ruins that were little more than metal husks -- they hadn't held much of importance when they'd first officially been delved into about twenty five years ago and since then they'd been stripped of as much useful scrap as they could without causing them to collapse.

Very carefully he turned his head to catch a view of Eli behind him; she was studying the shape of the ruins in the distance and seemed to be comparing them to the water wheel. He stopped Spacer at the DeeDee stop and shifted to look back at her. "Anything seem familiar yet?"

"I'm...PRETTY sure that rounded building there was a planetarium -- a, uh, a place where you could learn about space and the solar system. That rounded top was usually a theater where you could sit and watch a presentation projected onto the ceiling that, because it was rounded and also huge, seemed to drop you right in the middle of the movie. It's easy to trick the brain into thinking you're moving if you're surrounded with the right sensory information so the whole point of the presentation was to make you feel like you were literally flying through space examining planets."

"Sounds like fun."

Eli laughed quietly behind him. "It was. And it's something I'm sure even your level of technology could replicate."

Arlo smiled a bit at that and guided Spacer off to the left, diverting toward the elevator that led up to the hot springs. As he scanned the area and the bluffs ahead he wasn't seeing anything out of the ordinary - there weren't even any footprints up this way. He checked that the elevator was still working as it should and then turned Spacer down the path back toward the road that would lead to the harbor.

Technically he was going well out of the way of his usual patrol route but with Eli with him he wanted to give her the best chance possible to recognize anything in the immediate area; that she'd sort of recognized a planetarium was, he assumed, a good thing, and maybe with a few more landmarks she'd be able to piece together a map of Dubei and know approximately where she was now, 300 years later.

The lighthouse was always in view from almost anywhere you cared to stand once you were south of Sophie's, along with the top of the cargo crane. There was a rumble in the distance suggesting the bus that wheeled around Portia was just past the trees up ahead (that was where the bus stop was, after all) and aside from the soft lapping of waves against the shore there wasn't much else going on out here. He could do a quick loop then circle back north toward Amber Island's bridge, then keep going...

"Was Dubei close to the shoreline?"

"It was built out over the shoreline," came Eli's answer. "Big pylons, gigantic harbor. Docks and walkways. I'm not sure where we are on Dubei's shoreline just yet though."

Arlo nodded and kept Spacer moving at a leisurely trot. Eli seemed a little interested in seeing the "haunted" cave on Amber Island so he made a mental note to make sure she got a chance (knowing Selene if she caught wind of it she'd drag the woman out there herself) and then kept northeast toward Bassanio Falls.

"Is that...desert, over the river?"

Arlo nodded. "It is. Eufala Desert. There's some ruins out that way and Dana's mining operation in Ingall's Mine. If we'd gone across that second bridge we just passed on the right we would've arrived in South Block - it's a tiny outpost right at the edge of the desert." As he glanced back to her he saw her frown, then shake her head. "I'm guessing there wasn't any desert near Dubei in your time."

"No, there wasn't."

She didn't elaborate further; the lift to the top of the falls was where, lately, Arlo had been stopping his patrol route -- now that they were having to keep an eye on the facility in the marsh whoever got the afternoon shift was usually the one who skirted the edge of the marsh and then circled around and down from WOW Industries...

But, the very top of the falls was fairly high up and you could see for miles around up there so that would be the optimal place to have a look from. When they were within walking distance of the lift he got down from Spacer's back and walked the horse the rest of the way; the DeeDee stop would double nicely as a hitching post and there he left Spacer tethered before offering Eli a hand down.

"Let's head up - you might spot something you know."

As soon as they were at the top of the lift Eli immediately spotted the towering ruins of WOW Industries. "Did you people give names to any of these ruins?"

"Not really. But the ones we were able to find mention of, or ones with surviving signs, we just call them by their names. That's WOW Industries."

Eli's eyes lit up. "THAT'S WOW? Well, that's half of WOW. All right...all right, so then..."

She jogged up the path ahead of him and he sped up to keep pace, and then almost collided with her when she abruptly stopped.

"What the heck are THOSE?" she asked then, pointing off to their left where there was a flurry of movement near the tops of the trees.

Arlo squinted off toward where she was pointing and caught the barest glimpse of fluttering wings. "Panbats."

"Pan...bats?" she repeated slowly, turning to look at him in confusion.

"Panbats. They're pests that feed on trees - we had an infestation of them at the tree farm a few years ago. Usually they're pretty harmless but if they're hungry or you scare one they might attack."

Eli continued to stare at him for a few breaths more, then turned on her heel to head up the path further before turning to the left to creep up to the base of a tree; at the base she knelt down, putting the tree partially between herself and the panbats that were flapping around. Arlo came up behind her, counting seven of the beasts; he was more interested in watching how Eli watched them -- he wouldn't say she was sizing them up but she was eying them with far more than a passing curiosity. As they hunched there, observing, Arlo could see one large panbat alight on a bough and pull a shriveled apple free from a dry branch before beginning to suck at it.

"...do you have pandas, and bats, in this world?" Eli asked quietly.

"Bats, yes. Not sure what a panda is."

"Pandas - panda bears. Think...THESE things, but no wings, and about half the size of your horse."

Arlo shook his head. "We don't have those around here, at least. Couldn't say for the rest of the world though."

Eli let out a sigh that trailed off into a faint raspberry noise before she stood and turned back to the WOW Industries building. "Well... The good news is I know WOW Industries, and I know where it was. We're in the southeastern corner of Dubei and now I can also confirm that the shoreline is NOT where it should be, and that none of these bluffs or waterfalls here are where they're supposed to be. It's like...it's like parts of the land got shifted, or sheared off."

He didn't know what to say to that and instead followed silently as she walked up to the building. She stared up at the building and at the door, then circled around the ruin's foundation to the left; there was a flat metal platform here they'd assumed was some kind of loading dock that served double duty as a canopy that covered three enormous pipes coming out of the building. Not far from the edge of the platform was an enormous, wide stone retaining wall that overlooked the eastern border of the Collapsed Wasteland. There was another wall and a line of trees that blocked the majority of the view of the Wasteland from the top of this particular wall - it was hardly more than a crater with a few intact buildings clinging to the land so there wasn't much to see regardless.

Despite the obstructed view Eli was still standing atop the wall and, while he couldn't be sure, it sort of looked like she was measuring distances with her hands - using her fingertips lined up with the landscape and tops of the ruins.

He was content to wait and let her do whatever she needed; down below them he could just make out slurpees wandering about -- he wondered what she'd think of THOSE.

"Oh Fate...why is THIS the way the story goes..."

He just barely heard her speak. "-huh?"

"Nothing. Just having a crisis of faith. Or, in my case, a crisis of Fate."

"Ah."

She ran her hand through her hair again, and paced back and forth a few steps in each direction. "--what religions even exist now?"

"We have the Church of the Light. There might be others but I'm not sure - I've never been very far from Portia." He waited a moment, watching her pace. "What religions existed back then?"

"Hundreds of thousands. Mine specifically was the Foundational Three."

Arlo shook his head. "I've never heard of that one. The Research Center might have, but not me."

"Great..." she sighed. "Well. The Foundational Three are..." She paused, kicking away snow and ice from the stone under her before dropping down to sit. "Fate. Balance. And Judgement. Fate is the Great Curator, and ensures that every soul born into the world has a story to tell and, when those lives are over, makes sure their stories are made a part of the cosmos. Balance is the Silent Observer - Balance makes sure your life isn't too hard or too easy because too hard means you give up and too easy means you don't grow. And Judgement is the Arbiter, the one who carries out decisions made by Balance. Judgement will remove or place obstacles as needed, and punish or reward those as needed -- those who make it their purpose to make other lives miserable will find themselves on the receiving end of Judgement's wrath, and that's not somewhere you want to be. And on the other end of the spectrum are those who are given a helping hand to overcome their troubles if it proves to be more than they can bear."

She trailed off, staring out at the treetops below them. Arlo likewise cleared off a spot to sit and dropped down next to her. "It sounds like a nice religion."

Eli nodded. "Compared to most I'd say it definitely is. Certainly more kind than a lot I'd heard of back then. A lot of religions threatened doom and hellfire and damnation, or the destruction of the soul, or losing the ability to be reborn into another life - always more threats of the bad things versus promises of the good things. The Foundational Three always made the most sense to me though."

"Why's that?" He asked almost without thinking, then quickly added "you don't need to answer that if it's too personal."

She waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, it's fine. In fact, the Three actually encourage you to share information and stories. That's part of why it made sense to me...there's things that should be shared, and remembered. And there's proof all around you that the stories told keep echoing - there's a reason people believe in ghosts. Those are just stories that weren't ready to end."

"I'm not sure I follow."

At that Eli laughed quietly, pulling up a knee to rest her chin on it as she wrapped her hands around her leg. "So, you have ghost stories here, right? I'd assume so being as you have a 'haunted' cave attraction." When he nodded she continued. "A ghost is a soul. A story. And sometimes, when someone dies, instead of their story joining the infinite collection the story itself hangs around. Sometimes it's there because the soul feels their story was cut short and they're upset. Sometimes it remains because the soul feels too strong of a connection to someone else's story, and they can't leave yet because their story is still being written, just on someone else's pages. That's how you end up with guardian spirits or the angry, hateful ghosts that appear in scary stories -- it's just someone's life, someone's story, that wasn't ready to close the cover yet. Eventually though the cover closes, the story returns to the shelves, and the details of that story are written in the fabric of existence where anyone, at any time, may catch a whisper of it even if they never knew that person."

She went quiet after that and Arlo mulled over everything she'd just said; it was a neat and tidy way to think of the universe, for sure. There was even a small bit of comfort in it, thinking that both people he knew and also those he'd never known or would ever know would somehow know about him when he was gone...granted, that thought was terrifying too - a bunch of strangers hearing only bits and pieces of things he'd done or the type of person he'd been. Anyone could make any sort of story out of scraps and believe themselves right.

"What happens when you accomplish whatever Fate said your story was supposed to be about?" he asked into the silence.

Eli shrugged. "How would you know you'd done that?"

"...no idea."

"And no one else would know either. Only Fate would. And even stories that seem complete can keep going. The only thing you can know for sure is you have a starting point in your story, and somewhere there's an ending point, but there's an infinite number of ways to get there." She trailed off again, then inhaled deeply and looked over to him. "Though I definitely understand the NEED to know why your story is going where its going. What am I supposed to accomplish?" With a flick of her fingers she gestured to the Wasteland ahead of them. "How in the world does THIS fit into any reasonable story Fate would want to tell?"

He didn't have an answer for that so he just stayed quiet; the sun was setting and the breeze was getting a bit more chilly and out of habit he rubbed his hands together.

The movement attracted her attention. "We can head back. I've seen enough to have at least some idea of where I am. It's just...staggering that there's so little left."

He nodded and stood, and offered her a hand up; they walked back to Spacer in silence and began to make their way back to Portia.

About halfway there he heard her sigh again - it was more of a groan though. "What's wrong?"

"I just realized something. Something that I was doing."

"What's that?"

"I want to know what happened here, and what that facility actually is and why I was down inside it. And I keep catching myself thinking of those three things - what happened, what it is, why I was there - as all separate pieces of the puzzle, when I SHOULD be thinking of it as one big knot to unravel. Seeing WOW, and spotting the sewer network got me to thinking about what's gone, what should be where, and how the landscape changed and for a moment it was like THAT was the only problem. And I know I'm doing it because, to be blunt, I'm terrified to actually get the answer..."

"I'm sorry," was all he could think to say.

The ride back to Portia was quiet after that.

#Lost in Time #lit #Lost in Time - ch 7 #Arlo #Builder #Paulie #My Time at Portia

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orangeoctopi7 · 4 years

Text

Gloves VS Mittens

@forduary Week one is Creation/Destruction. This fic is definitely on the Creation side of things.

For most people, it’s just a matter of preference. But for Stanford, just having a choice at all was something he rarely had...

***

When Ford was four years old, he first started taking notice of the fact that his hands were not normal. It started with a Hanukkah gift from a distant aunt: a pair of gloves for Stan, and a pair of mittens for himself. The two of them were so used to getting the exact same of everything that it immediately struck them as odd.

"Hey Dad, how come mine are different?" Ford asked.

"Because they don't make six-fingered gloves." Filbrick grunted.

"Why not?"

"Because normal people don't have six fingers. Haven't you noticed?"

Caryn smacked her husband with her magazine. "Dear!"

"What? If he hasn't already figured it out--"

"He's four, Filbrick."

"He's gonna have to know sooner or later! Coddling him ain't doin' him any favors. The world's not kind to what's different, so we may as well prepare him now!"

"I'm not… normal?" Ford asked his parents. He wasn't quite sure what to do with this information.

"Nope." Filbrick replied bluntly.

"Oh who wants to be normal, anyway? Normal's boring. You're special." Caryn took her son into her arms and kissed his forehead. “Now go outside and play with your brother."

While Stanford took his mother's words to heart, he soon found that being special had little to no practical benefits. Sure, it was nice to have something of his own for once, but Ford soon realized that while Stanley could use his mittens if he wanted, Ford couldn't use his brother's gloves. Not that Stan would ever want to use the mittens. They limited his dexterity to the point where it was hard to make a snowball, or even do something as simple as point.

"It's not fair!" He complained to Stan as he struggled to draw a face on the snowman they were working on. "It's like trying to do everything with a sock puppet on each hand!"

"It can't be all bad." Stan reasoned. "Plenty of people wear mittens, right?"

"I guess so…" Ford remembered quite a few Christmas decorations with people wearing mittens, and he'd seen a few wearing them out and about the city.

Stan grabbed one hand and held it up, looking at it more closely. "I bet all your fingers are warmer, bundled together like that!"

"But it's hard to zip up my coat, so I get cold anyway." Ford mumbled.

"I'll help you zip it up!" Stan promised.

***

As the years passed, Stanford found another advantage to wearing mittens: nobody could tell he was a freak if they couldn't see his extra fingers. Sure, it didn't fool the people who already knew him, but it was nice to be able to pretend he was normal when they went up to New York City to go shopping.

As for the dexterity problem, most of the time he'd just have to ask Stanley to do whatever it was for him. If he got tired of that, or if it simply wasn't an option (like during a snowball fight between the two brothers) he'd just take his mittens off. Sure, it was icy cold, and Ma always scolded him if she caught him, but that was a small price to pay for a good snowball.

Ford found he didn't mind wearing mittens all the time, until he started highschool chemistry class.

***

Ford was so excited to start his first real chemistry lab. He'd been doing his own chemical experiments with a chemistry set he got for his birthday when he turned 12, but the school chemistry lab had so much more to offer him! Actual Bunsen burners, more than one beaker and three test tubes, and best of all-- a variety of chemicals much wider than what he could find in his family home!

"Now, before we start, I'm going to go around and make sure everyone has all their safety equipment on properly. Make sure you've got your goggles on over your eyes not your forehead, and your gloves on your hands not in your pocket." Their teacher, an easily distracted middle-aged man, made his way around the room, checking each group. "Oh, right…" he paused when he came to the Pines twins. Stan had on his gloves and goggles (onto which he had drawn googly eyes with a wet-erase marker). Ford had on his goggles, but…

"I don't need gloves." Ford insisted. "I've never used them with my chemistry set at home."

"Yeah!" Stan agreed, "We took apart a car battery one time and didn't get any chemical burns!"

The teacher blanched at this revelation, and he opened up a supply closet at the back of the room. After some digging, he pulled out a pair of sturdy work gloves that looked like they were meant for a giant.

"Here," he tossed them to Ford, "These should be big enough. You'll just have to fit two fingers into one hole."

Ford grumbled as he pulled the gloves on. After some experimentation he found that sticking his second and third fingers together was the least uncomfortable arrangement, but the glove was still too bulky and awkward. He kept on pouring too much acid into the solution and completely missing the titration point.

Relying on Stan to do it didn't yield much better results, as his brother was too impatient, and kept on pouring the acid too fast, once again missing the titration point. Finally, when the teacher was distracted by other students, Ford just took the gloves off. Then he got it first try.

This ended up being the pattern for Ford's chemistry labs throughout the rest of his highschool years. Fumble through the lab until the teacher's back was turned, and then strip the oversized gloves off. He was extra careful, and never got anything on him that could do any real harm. One time he did get a bit of copper nitrate on his skin, but all that it did was make his hands dry and itchy.

***

When Ford started college at Backupsmore University, he quickly realized he wouldn't be able to just pull an awkwardly large glove off when the teacher wasn't looking. The class size was much too small. What's more the TA overseeing their lab, a young man by the name of McGucket, was clearly a sharp and observant individual.

"Hmm, obviously this ain't gonna work." He observed as he passed out supplies to Ford's table. "I think y'should be fine fer now, we're only working with acetic acid today, but that ain't gonna be the case fer the whole semester. You got a free hour after lab?"

"Y-yes."

"Great! Meet me in the Grad-lab, we'll make ya a special custom pair!"

"What--really!?"

"Sure! We don't want you messin' around in the chem lab with no gloves on, but messin' around with gloves that don't fit right is even worse!"

Ford finished his first lab with no trouble. In fact, he finished early, so he cleaned up his things and headed to the Grad-lab, just down the hall from his own classroom, and waited. All the graduate students there ignored him, too caught up in their own studies to even notice a lowly undergrad.

After several minutes, McGucket entered. "Alright, this is gonna take a while, you sure you got time?"

"This is my last class of the day."

"Perfect. Now come over here and we'll get started." The grad student led Ford back to a table with many five-gallon buckets. He pried the lid off of one, revealing its dark blue, slimy contents. "This here's the silicone-rubber I use t'make molds fer my machine parts. If'n ya jus' stick yer hand in here and let it gel, it should make a nice glove, like a second skin!"

"You want me to stick my hand… in that?" Ford asked incredulously.

"Pshaw, it ain't that bad!" McGucket assured him. "It's like… well, y'ever stuck her hand in pig slop?"

"No." Ford said slowly, his eye twitching just a bit at the thought.

"Oh, well nevermind then. I guess you can jus' drop outta chemistry 112"

Ford sighed and plunged his hands down into the bucket. It was pretty gross, but he got used to the slimy sensation after a few minutes. He slowly pulled his hands out, letting the viscous fluid slide off his fingers.

"How long does this take to dry?"

"Gel." McGucket corrected. "First layer'll probably take 'bout half an hour. It goes faster if'n ya use a settin' spray, bit that tends t'irritate the skin."

"First layer? How many layers will it take?"

"Only two. Ya want it thick 'nuff it'll protect yer skin, but thin 'nuff that it's flexible an’ peels off easy."

"So I'm just supposed to stand here for a whole hour? What am I supposed to do for all this time? I-I've got homework!"

"Well, I'll pull ya up a chair." McGucket rolled over a chair for him and opened his backpack. "An' maybe I can help ya with yer homework."

They sat there for an hour, McGucket reading Ford's textbooks and Ford asking questions about the material. The grad student was impressed with the workload this freshman had taken on.

"I wanted to go to West Coast Tech, but that didn't work out." Ford explained bitterly. "So I'm going to have to work twice as hard to be taken seriously by the scientific community."

"Believe me, I know the feelin'." McGucket nodded. "Most folks don't take a roboticist from the Tennessee hills seriously either. But there's some perks to attendin' a smaller University. The dean lets us do whatever we want! I've built lots o' robots I never woulda gotten away with at MIT."

"I suppose that's true." Ford admitted. "I'm interested in anomalies and cryptozoology. At West Coast Tech, I probably wouldn't be able to study those."

The hour passed more quickly than Ford expected. When he pulled the gloves off, they turned inside out, showing all the wrinkles and ridges of his skin in relief. He liked it. It was much more personal than some disposable pair.

“I’m sorry for complaining so much at the start. What you’ve done for me is incredibly generous. Thank you.” Ford said sincerely.

“Think nothin’ of it!” McGucket assured him with a friendly smile. “Can’t ‘spect you to go through the whole class without proper gloves.”

“No, really, you don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Well, I s’pose not. But I imagine ya don’t get somethin’ as simple as a pair o’ gloves offen.”

“N-no.” Ford instinctively hid his hand behind his back.

“Well now, ain’t nothin’ to hide!” McGucket elbowed him. “You could have two heads, fer all I care, with how well you un’erstand superconductors!” He waved goodbye as they exited the lab. “See ya in class on Wednesday!”

Ford found he gained more than just a new pair of gloves that day.

***

The custom gloves were nice, but they didn’t last more than a couple of months before they needed to be replaced again. He spent a lot of time in the Grad-lab talking to Fiddleford over the next few years. By the time graduation rolled around, Ford had learned to make the silicone-rubber compound himself. It was something he continued to use as he moved out to Gravity Falls. Being able to make his own gloves was so convenient! After all these years of being stuck with ill-fitting gloves, or no gloves at all, he’d never really realized how useful they were. And now he could have them whenever he wanted! As time went by, he improved upon the original silicone-rubber formula, making the gloves more durable and long-lasting.

As he got used to wearing gloves while he worked, the fact that he didn’t have winter gloves became more and more annoying. It was easy to ignore at Backusmore, where it rarely snowed and stayed warm for most of the year. But Oregon was farther north, and Gravity Falls was in the middle of the temperate rainforest. It snowed all winter long. It was so frustrating when he encountered an anomaly out in the snow and couldn’t hold his pen properly to take notes in his journal, either because of his mittens, or because his hands were too cold and numb from not wearing his mittens.

Oh well. As irritating as it was, he was used to it by now.

***

Out in the multiverse, just finding something to keep himself warm at all could be a struggle. Many of the dimensions he visited didn’t have human inhabitants, so finding something to wear on his hands at all was an impossible ask. Ford learned to wrap strips of cloth around his hands and fingers to keep them warm. It worked pretty well, although it took a lot longer to wrap the cloth in such a way that he could still move his fingers individually than it would to simply slip on a glove.

Of course, sometimes he got lucky. When he became ruler of the Finger Dimension, for instance, the people had made him a pair of silk, fur-lined gloves. They were very nice, but obviously more for fashion rather than function. He ended up trading them away for some tools shortly after he was banished by the Finger Dimension’s new ruler.

But Stanford had bigger things to worry about than the comfort of his hands in his interdimensional travels.

***

Stanley found the gloves while he was digging around the portal’s control console, looking for any clues as to how to get the thing working again. It was like a punch to the gut, but really, finding anything of Ford’s was like a punch to the gut. Stan still remembered that first Hanukkah when he’d gotten a pair of gloves, and Ford got a pair of mittens. He still remembered all the awkward times in their chemistry class where he’d had to do all the fine measurements even though he was terrible at it, until the teacher looked away long enough for Ford to take the oversized gloves off. He was glad his brother had finally found a way to get his own pair of work gloves.

His mind wandered, unbidden, to the fact that his brother was now lost… somewhere… without them. Without a lot of things he needed. Stan pulled on the gloves and made a fist, watching the extra pinky sleeve flop uselessly. He grimaced. Right. Back to work.

***

When Ford turned sixty-four, he was used to wearing mittens. He’d long ago accepted that the winter months came with a loss of dexterity, and honestly, over the past nine months of sailing through arctic waters, he’d been fine. He knew Stan had his back when he couldn’t properly wrap a finger around his blaster’s trigger. And when he knew he was going to need his blaster, he just didn’t wear them. He hadn’t gotten frostbite yet. In the middle of June, it wasn’t even worth worrying about. He wouldn’t even be thinking about it right now if it wasn’t for the birthday gift his niece had just given him.

“I noticed you weren’t wearing your mittens in a lot of the photos you sent us.” Mabel explained. “And I figured you probably have to use all your fingers for boat stuff, like tying knots, or signaling merpeople! So I made you these!” She handed him a pair of hand-knitted gloves, made up of a mix of red, blue, and green yarn.

“I wanted to send you some while you were still sailing, but I’d never knitted gloves before, so it took me a while to figure it out.”

“She went through a lot of yarn the last few months.” Dipper agreed. “Like, even more than usual.”

Ford slipped them on. They were a perfect fit.

“How…?”

Stan suddenly started whistling for no reason. Ford shot him a knowing look.

“What? Don’t look at me like that! So maybe I kept an old pair of your gloves while I was workin’ on the portal. Not for, like, sentimental reasons or anything. Good work gloves aren’t cheap! And it’s a good thing I did keep ‘em, they were the perfect model for Mabel. I just had to tell Soos where I left ‘em and asked him to send ‘em to her.”

“I-I don’t know what to say.” Ford’s voice wavered with emotion. "This is-- the fact that you put in all that time and effort, just for me-- and such a thoughtful gift! I-I've never really had a pair of winter gloves before… well, except for that pair from the Finger Dimension, and those were more ceremonial than anything else."

"So you like them?" Mabel asked, eyes bright.

"I absolutely love them. They're perfect!" He hugged her. "Thank you!" He turned to Stan. "Thank both of you!"

"Eh, I didn't do anything." Stan rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.

"You provided the model. I have you to thank for the fact that they fit so well."

"I have an idea, if you want to test them out now." Dipper suggested. "Remember that snow spell we tested out last week?"

"Oh, right! Great idea, my boy!"

"Yeah, just test it outside this time, so Soos doesn't have to mop up after you again." Stan advised.

#Gravity Falls #Fanfiction #Forduary 2020 #Stanford Pines #Mabel Pines #Fiddleford Mcgucket #My Writing

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otonymous · 5 years

Note

Your Gavin NSFW HCs!! So good so good so good! The game hasn't been out long but all of these boys are already near and dear to my heart. I wreck myself thinking of your HCs for the other three if you wrote them 💦 For now, may I humbly request some NSFW HCs of my (potentially/somewhat) shady sunshine Kiro if you're willing to bless us with trying him out? No worries if you're not taking requests/busy! Just slid in to let know your Gavin HCs lit some fires 🔥🔥

Hello awesome Anon! 💕

Thank you so much for your lovely comments and your incredibly polite ask! 😍 It totally brought a huge smile to my face to know that you enjoyed my Gavin NSFW HCs! Sorry for the long wait in answering your Ask - I hope you’re cool with Kiro’s NSFW ABCs! Thanks for reading, and hope you enjoy them 😉

Warning: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language - reader discretion is advised. TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of smothering & breath play (can be incredibly dangerous - please take a moment to read up on it if you’re curious and practice safe sex in more ways than one!!)

The ABCs of Kiro (MLQC Headcanon - NSFW)

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

This sweetheart has already raided the convenience stores beforehand for your favourite snacks and will lay them before you while you’re still wrapped up in his sheets

Enjoy feeding each other Pocky and chips, laughing and getting to know one another in your post-coital bliss

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your ears: loves to nibble and suck on the lobes, run his tongue over the shell of your ears, softly serenade you with the sweetest love songs just to watch the tips grow red

Kiro is particularly fond of his lips: he loves licking the salt of potato chips off them, loves using them to feel the heat of your skin as he peppers your body with kisses, absolutely adores it when you come undone from his mouth alone

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

Kiro loves to come in you, but he also loves pulling out to lay the head of his cock on your trembling folds just watch his cum paint your pussy; reach a hand down to gingerly smear it all around and Kiro is insta-hard again

He also loves to take you from behind so he can cum on your ass and watch it drip down the curves of your cheeks and onto your thighs

Kiro has a hard time keeping control when you look up to meet his eyes as your tongue peeks out to taste that drop of pre-cum on the head of his cock

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He may or may not have a couple pairs of your clean underwear that he buries his face in while he’s jerking off, thinking of you

They definitely come in handy with his crazy busy schedule and all the traveling he does for work (see “Jack Off” below)

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Kiro is quite experienced (especially when it comes to certain kinks)

Prior to meeting the love of his life (i.e. YOU) he has engaged in meaningless sex here and there with some groupies, some members of edgy underground organizations (one of whom introduced him to his kink - see below, under K)

F = Favourite Position

Hands down, 69 is Kiro’s favourite position because he likes to give and receive at the same time

The superstar will keep pulling down on your hips and thighs, trying to get you to rest more of your weight onto his face (see Kink below)

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

There can be a lot of jokes and laughter leading up to the moment, but you can bet that once Kiro gets down to business, he’s never been more serious about anything in his life

Boy can be INTENSE and seriously driven to give you as much pleasure as possible

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Like Victor, Kiro is completely bare (in case the superstar has any wardrobe malfunctions on stage)

But if you MUST know, Kiro is a natural blond

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Kiro is a romantic at heart: he firmly believes in love at first sight, the red thread of fate and the concept of soulmates

From the very moment he laid eyes on you, he knew you were the one and hasn’t looked at anyone else since (and never will)

Even still, he cannot help but feel insecure at times, hating himself whenever he questions whether or not his Evol had any influence on your feelings for him

Hence, sex with Kiro often takes on an incredibly intimate tone and can be more properly referred to as lovemaking: his cerulean eyes will be searching yours as he buries himself deeply inside you, laying his soul bare with every tender word he whispers in your ear, each burning press of his body against yours — he’s expressing the depths of his love and seeking confirmation that you love him as Kiro the man, not Kiro the superstar with his overwhelming charm

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Kiro masturbates quite frequently, close to daily, depending on how tired/busy he is — he finds it hard not to, since you’re never far from his mind

His insane work schedule unfortunately translates into a lot of time away from you, so he often has to rely on himself to release his pent-up energy

Also expect to engage in some mutual masturbation over FaceTime

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Kiro has an oral fixation and lives for you to sit on his face

He’s even cool if there’s a bit of smothering - VERY MILD breath play is something he’s into

He won’t do it to you unless you request it yourself, Miss Chips! (you can bet safe words/gestures will be in full effect)

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere he can get you alone: with his jam-packed schedule, Kiro has to take advantage of every hour, every minute, every second he has with you

You guys have gotten busy in a variety of places: in his dressing room, a variety of broom closets, hidden behind clothing racks backstage, inside a parked van with tinted windows, in bathroom stalls, on a deserted beach in the middle of the night, etc. — anything goes

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

While Kiro loves everything about you, he especially loves the sound of your voice, and finds it absolutely irresistible when you sing a song he penned himself (he’d wonder whether his Evol rubbed off on you)

The man melts to hear you moan with pleasure, so feel free to be as loud as possible whenever you have the luxury to do so

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

I’m just gonna keep it real here: none of the MLQC boys share. NONE.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

This boy likes giving and receiving equally (see Favourite Position above)

Very skilled at eating you out and can happily do so for HOURS (this superstar has had lots of vocal training, including tongue stretches 😉)

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

If time isn’t an issue, Kiro tends towards slow and sensual because he wants so badly to prolong the moment of physical and emotional intimacy with you

When you’re indulging in a quickie though, the man can snap his hips as fast as a jackhammer and with almost as much force

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

While Kiro doesn’t view quickies as ideal, it’s much better than nothing and beggars won’t be choosers

It’s pretty much guaranteed that sex is gonna happen anytime you and Kiro get the chance to meet up in person

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Kiro is totally game when it comes to experimenting (except no additional partners!)

His kink game is strong to begin with: anything you mention he’s likely already tried, so feel free to ask him anything

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

With all the recording/filming/concerts/TV appearances/promotions, etc., Kiro has even longer work days than Victor. You best believe he has the stamina to keep up

He’s also a younger guy and is super fit from rehearsing dance routines all the time, along with his usual sessions at the gym (he’s gotta work off all that junk food after all)

So, if given the time and opportunity, Kiro can go many rounds and doesn’t require much recovery time in between

But don’t worry, the boy’s EQ is so high he would never push you past your comfort level; you wouldn’t even need to say anything and he can read you like an open book

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Kiro doesn’t have any toys for his own use, but as mentioned in Dirty Secret above, he does keep a pair of your panties around to assist him in fantasizing about you when he’s stroking himself

The superstar does have a collection of costumes from movies/dramas he’s filmed in the past and took a particular liking to. Feel free to peruse and let him know which one you want him to wear 😉

LOVES using toys on you, and is quite open to you using toys on him

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Kiro likes to tease his lady when she loses at video games, not when she’s in the bedroom (unless you explicitly ask for it)

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Kiro, the singer, can get incredibly loud during the act when he doesn’t have to be discrete

His moans and groans are made 100000000x more irresistible by his beautifully sensual voice

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

You’ve inspired every love song he’s written since meeting you

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Kiro has a nice cock, average girth and slightly above-average in length

He is cut and curves very slightly to the right

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Kiro had a high sex drive to begin with, but it has shot through the roof since meeting you

His mind can’t help but drift to more sensual matters whenever he sees you or even thinks of you

Much of this is tied to the strength of his feelings for you; oftentimes he finds that words just aren’t enough to express how much he loves and desires you so he tries to show you with both his words and actions

The man does try to suppress his thirst, as he doesn’t want to scare you off

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Kiro tends to pass out immediately after sex, but only for 5-10 minutes before he’s completely energized again and ready to go, as if he took a power nap

If you’re up for another round, so is he! But if you’ve had enough, Kiro will break out the post-coital snacks (see Aftercare above) and maybe toss you a gaming console controller, smirking as he climbs back under the sheets with you

——————————————————————————————-

Thanks so much for reading! Check out more of my work here! 📚

#q&a #anonymous #all request line #mlqc #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #mlqc kiro #mlqc smut headcanon #mlqc smut #my writing

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kittinoir · 4 years

Text

Echoes of You ch. 12

Read on Ao3

Chat Noir was in a foul mood. Of course, that seemed to be more and more true lately, but he was turning up more dead-ends than leads and it was eating him alive. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten the tablet with the Grimoire translation on it. Unless his Lady had kept it - and even if he was dead wrong and she had just quit, he still couldn’t see her doing that - Salem would have it. Worse, he had a sneaking suspicion Salem had intentionally ‘forgotten’ to mention it. He found himself again wondering why his Lady had trusted this new guardian, followed by the familiar sting of the inevitable, involuntary follow up of ‘instead of me’?

He hadn’t been able to hunt the guardian down since deciding if his Lady had left him any clues, they would be in there. Of course, that was how he told himself to think on it. The truth was he was running patrols two and three times a day, every day in the hopes Salem would show himself, because the truth was he knew about as much about him as it turned out he had about Ladybug. The guardian could disappear with the Miracle box and the book and he’d never know until it was much, much too late.

The worst of it was the resentment he found creeping in, stealing into his heart in the moments between patrols, between lives, while he snatched moments of rest here and there. How could she do this to him? They were supposed to be a team. They were supposed to trust each other. It was supposed to be them against the world. That’s what they’d always said. She’d never let him down before; why now? Why? Why, why, why, why -

It had become a constant refrain, and in the quietest moments, a small voice whispered to him that the person he really resented was himself. He had made the mistake. He hadn’t been careful enough. He had forced her hand. She was only trying to protect him, and he hadn’t been strong enough to protect her back. They were only where they were because of what he’d done - or failed to do. At the end of the day, he had no one to blame but himself.

Those insidious fears were easier to ignore in the light of day.

Because they were a team. They were the only thing they could count on. She knew that. And, just like with her convoluted lucky charms, there were pieces to the puzzle he just couldn’t see. He had to trust that. More importantly, he had to trust her. She had never let him down before. He doubted very much she would start now. If love were enough, I’d still be here. He had to believe in that.

Red wasn’t exactly helping. She seemed capable, but that partnership, that intuition… It wasn’t there. How could it be? Still, sometimes that feeling flickered to life, in a moment where a shared glanced lead to a perfectly executed plan. It was rare, and surprising, but if nothing else, it gave him hope. Besides, she hadn’t let him down yet, either. She was trying, even though it seemed impossible at times. If nothing else, he had to respect that. She kept showing up. He would, too.

Part of him wondered if this was what his Lady had felt in those last days. The daily burden of akuma fights, plus the responsibility of being the guardian, and then the added weight of his identity. It must have been overwhelming. He wished he’d known, at least about the last part. And there in an of itself was another question: how long had she known? A month? Weeks? Just a few days? How long had she kept that detail to herself until Veritas had wrung it from her? And…was she ever going to tell him about it?

Had she dropped in on him? Had she put herself in his path, curious about what kind of person he was behind the mask? Had he walked by her without even seeing her? Signed a slip of paper outside a shoot, cracked a smile, and carried on? Had she been there?

All questions he intended to have answers to once he found her - once he restored her memory. Another little detail he hadn’t let himself dwell on. The hard truth was that might not have been part of the plan, but it wasn’t a reality he was will to accept. Not yet.

Unfortunately for him, it appeared as though Hawkmoth had about as much information as he did. Whatever the reason, Chat Noir was willing to bet their nemesis was aware or at least suspected Red wasn’t the real Ladybug. Maybe he could sense the change in their dynamic. Maybe he just knew what Ladybug had done. Either way, the akuma attacks had become more frequent and more violent. They’d been challenging before, but Chat Noir could tell Hawkmoth wasn’t just furious, he was creative. He very much doubted the villain would simply settle for their Miraculous anymore: the man was out for blood.

The latest akuma was no exception. Roots the size of pillars exploded out of the ground whenever Weeping Willow twitched her fingers, plowing through buildings and trapping civilians where they stood. If he had to guess, Chat Noir’d bet Hawkmoth had discovered a disgruntled conservationist. Where the hell was he finding these people?

“I think it’s about time to trim back the deadwood,” Chat Noir panted as Red landed next to him. Between trying to locate where the akuma was hiding and luring Willow away from more populated areas, they were both out of breath.

“Couldn’t agree more,” Red said. She reached for her yo-yo, but Chat Noir’s hand snapped out, stopping her. “Hey! What are - ”

“Look!” He pointed down to the street where a flash of pink had caught his eye. At first they just looked like pebbles rolling across the stones, glinting in the afternoon sun. Then, with a flash of fear, he understood. “Oh, my god.”

“What?” Red snapped, squinting in the direction he’d pointed. “Some rocks? We don’t have time for this!”

“It’s another hero,” Chat Noir said, standing. “It’s Multimouse.”

“Who?” Red stood as well, glaring down at the street. “Who’s Multimouse.”

Chat Noir grabbed his baton. “Not sure yet. I hope…Well, I don’t know which would be better, really.”

“That’s really helpful, O’Malley,” Red sniped.

“It’s the best I have,” Chat Noir shot back. He wasn’t the only one whose patience was running thin. He couldn’t blame her. A guilty part of him knew Red was relying on him for guidance and leadership. He should have made time to train with her, but… Well, any reason he could come up with would be an excuse. He needed to make time, but it appeared the guardian was done waiting for them to shape up.

It did mean one thing, though: the guardian was close by. And, if he was anything like his Lady had been, he’d be expecting the mouse Miraculous back as soon as they were done.

“Use your lucky charm,” Chat Noir instructed, glancing back at his partner. “Multimouse is going to help us, and I’m going to help her so you have the time you need to figure it out. Call us when you’re ready, and we’ll nip this in the bud.”

“Wait!” Red reached out and snagged his arm. “I don’t know if…what if I can’t figure it out?”

Chat Noir finally softened, offering her a smile of confidence. “You’ve got this. Ladybug chose you. And if you need help, I’ll be right there. And…if you want to set up some time to train later, just shoot me a message. We’ll set it up.”

She blinked, surprised, and for the first time Chat Noir got the feeling that for all the fuss he’d made insisting she wasn’t Ladybug, Red had never believed that she was or could be. She knew she wasn’t a part of the team, not really - and he’d let her believe that, because he was hurting too much to see it.

“Get going,” Red said, palming her yo-yo. “I’ve got this.”

“I know you do,” Chat Noir said with a quick salute. “Time to prune this weed!” He leapt, using his baton to take him straight down to the fight, but he was surprised to find when he got there that Multimouse, whoever she was, barely needed his help. Dozens of the tiny grey, black, and pink super heroines were swarming the street, taunting Willow. Roots slapped down on the stones like the tentacles of an enormous, pissed-off octopus. Upon closer inspection, Chat Noir was almost certain who was wearing moss Miraculous; his heart leapt every time one of the roots crashed down, terrified for the girl behind the mask.

He jumped as a slight weight landed on his shoulder. He turned his head and came face to whole body with the tiny hero herself. “You guys looked like you could use a hand,” she chirped, swinging the jumprope slung around her waist like she’d been born with one in her hands.

“And you are?” Chat Noir asked, one eyebrow cocked as he held his breath.

“I think you know,” she said with a grin. “Now are you going to help me keep this thing distracted?”

“I was going to,” he admitted, “But you seem to have everything under control.”

“Do you know where the akuma’s hiding?”

He nodded. “Ring on her finger, but we haven’t gotten close enough to do anything about it.”

“Hmmm.” She squinted in Willow’s direction, her nose wrinkling up in a way that struck a chord of familiarity he couldn’t quite place - like he’d been here before. But that was impossible. “Sounds like a job for someone who can sneak up on her. Leave it to me.”

“Ma - Multimouse!” Chat Noir reached for her as she leapt of his shoulder but he missed by a mile. “Wait.”

“Keep her busy for me,” she said as she disappeared onto the street. All he could do was watch her go, scowling. It was just like Marinette to take an analytical approach. It was amazing to watch, but it also scared the life out of him. He loved her confidence. He wished ‘Adrien’s’ celebrity didn’t intimidate her so much.

“That girl thinks she’s invincible,” he muttered to himself as he flung himself into the fray. He whacked roots away with his baton, shredded through others with his claws. He thought about using his cataclysm, but there were too many roots to waste on one attack.

He was still weed-whacking when he saw Red sail by overhead. He made to break away to help, but he’d worked himself nearly to the heart of the akuma and couldn’t break free. Multimouse and ‘Ladybug’ would have to succeed without him.

Minutes later, Chat Noir’s fears were assuaged as the roots shrivelled up and wilted away around him. He looked up in time to see Weeping Willow dissolve back into a scientist he recognized from television. She’d been slated to give a lecture on climate change earlier that day. Apparently it hadn’t gone very well.

“Paw-some job,” he said, making his way around the damage to Red. “I knew you would get it.”

“I hate to say it, but without that Mouse girl I don’t know how it would have gone,” Red admitted. “Is she, like, a member of the team now or something?”

Chat Noir worked to stay calm. “I think this was a one time deal,” he said. He hoped. Because the truth was he didn’t know if he’d be able to handle it if it wasn’t. Not on top of everything else. Not her. “Speaking of, did you see where she got to?”

“She was just here,” Red said, scanning the destroyed street. “You’d think she’d at least say bye or something.”

“Or something,” Chat Noir said. Marinette could try to slip away, but if there was one thing cats were good at, it was hunting down mice. “I’ll catch you later. Let me know about training.”

Red waved him off, collecting her Lucky Charm, but he thought he caught a small smile before she turned her face.

Chat Noir put the fight from his mind as he scanned the street, his enhanced eyes taking in every little detail, and… there! A flash of pink, one of Multimouse’s straggling doubles making for her.

He took to the roofs and gables that lined the street and followed the tiny darting figure back to an alley. Silently, Chat Noir slipped down to a balcony a little ways from the deepest shadows. Moments later a pink flash lit the inside the alley, illuminating both Marinette and, sure enough, Salem.

He watched, his tail practically twitching, as his friend handed back the Miraculous and made for the exit at the other end of the alley. He waited until she’d turned the corner and dropped nearly on top of Salem, using his forearm to pin the guardian to the wall.

“We really have to stop meeting like this,” Salem managed to splutter. He grabbed Chat Noir’s arm but wasn’t able to pull it away.

“We wouldn’t have to if you’d been straightforward from the beginning,” Chat Noir hissed. “You’ve been keeping something from me.”

“I told you…everything,” Salem gasped. Chat Noir eased up, but not enough for Salem to gain any purchase.

“She gave you the tablet along with the box, didn’t she,” Chat Noir demanded. “Didn’t she?”

“There was a tablet,” Salem admitted, “Yes, but it slipped my mind.”

“Slipped your mind?”

“It was easily the least exciting thing that happened that night,” Salem snapped. “Forgive me for being distracted. If you wanted it all you had to do was ask. It’s no use to me anyway. She said I’d know what to do with it, but I can’t even get it unlocked.”

Chat Noir’s ears went flat against his head. “You said she didn’t say anything else that night.”

“I said she didn’t have any other message for you,” Salem said, finally managing to shove Chat Noir off him. He dropped back to the street and straightened his jacket. “But she said a lot of other things.”

“Things like what,” Chat Noir said through gritted teeth.

“As though I remember,” Salem scoffed, but Chat Noir again got the feeling Salem was evading the question. “Do you want the tablet or not?”

“Yes,” Chat Noir said. “I do. Tonight.”

“Tonight,” Salem agreed. “I’ll leave it in Gustav Eiffel’s office for you after hours. And next time you have a question, just message Trixx.”

Chat Noir was about to leave, but paused. “Trixx?”

“I’m…borrowing them,” Salem said. “For now.”

“The Miraculous aren’t to be used for personal reasons,” Chat Noir warned. He wasn’t sure what it was about Salem that made him say it, but something told him Salem needed to hear it.

“That’s the problem with you hero types,” Salem said with a shake of his head. “So altruistic. So good.”

“And what’s wrong with good?” Chat Noir said.

“It’ll get you caught out, every time,” Salem said as he turned toward the mouth of the alley. “Hawkmoth and his little friends won’t play by your rules. He’ll do whatever it takes to win. Will you?”

Until Salem had asked him, Chat Noir honestly didn’t know. There had always been lines he hadn’t wanted to cross, boundaries he’d been careful to maintain. He knew that they created a weakness, but to him, and to his Lady, the end didn’t justify the means.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to get her back,” Chat Noir said. It was the best he had.

“That’s not the same thing as winning,” Salem said, pausing at the corner of the building.

But Chat Noir only shrugged. “It is to me.”

#echoes #echoes of you #miraculous ladybug #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #fic #writing #i need a hOBBY

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banditthewriter · 5 years

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Two Weeks Notice - Billy Russo

Prompt: It's that I was watching "2 weeks noice" and I thought on a Billy Russo idea that YN is his personal assistant whom he relies to pretty much everything. they're both in love with each other,but neither admits because : he thinks she's too good for him and she thinks he'll never look at her that way(she's seen the model types he's gone out) until Frank & co decide to intervene. Prompter: @ateliefloresdaprimavera

So I kind of deviated from the prompt where no one intervenes. Frank and them aren’t in this story. Sorry about that! It just kind of flowed the way it was. Hope you still like it.

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!

*gif is mine*

Enjoy!

*****

The job was supposed to be temporary. You were at the point in your life that you had accepted the fact that you were going to have to pick a job that didn’t use your degree, but you didn’t mind. You applied to jobs at a rapid fire pace and just prayed that someone would respond.

Anvil was the first company to ask you for an interview. You looked them up and decided it didn’t sound like a bad job. They were one of the only ones that referred to the position as an executive assistant rather than a secretary. It made you feel more like you were doing something than just being in an episode of Mad Men.

The owner of the company, one Mr Billy Russo, had hired you after a ten minute conversation. You weren’t sure if he was that certain of you or that desperate to fill the position, but you didn’t care. You needed the job.

The best part was that it was actually a good job. You enjoyed the work, the pay was better than you could have gotten anywhere else, the health care benefits were ideal. And then there were other benefits like access to the gym equipment for free, an expense account, a car service, and most importantly… Billy Russo.

After working there for about three weeks, he asked that you call him Billy. He had gotten tired of hearing Mr Russo over and over again. You took to calling him Billy when it was just the two of you but stuck to Mr Russo when others were around and that seemed to do well for both of you.

Billy was a great boss, without a doubt. He was intense and driven, passionate beyond words sometimes, but he always checked that his employees were happy. He had an open door policy that made you feel comfortable approaching him any time you had an issue.

He had also become something like a friend to you. The two of you spent majority of your time either together or in constant contact, so you had crossed that line from employer-employee to something else at some point. He’d send over medicine and soup when you were sick and you would have his favorite foods available when you knew he was going to be stuck at the office.

He was still in your phone as Mr Russo, but you’d long since stopped thinking about him that way.

For a job that was supposed to be temporary, you had gotten comfortable. It wasn’t just the gym or the car service or the pay. No, there was one other thing that kept you at Anvil.

Your crush on Billy had started out innocently enough. The man had the nerve to look like that and be funny, caring, and passionate at the same time; it was inevitable that you’d harbor a crush on him at some point.

But then you saw him spend seventy two hours without sleep as he worked out the release of some of his men that had been captured overseas, watched as he kept at it until he was successful and his men were returned to the states in one piece.

He was something else. Your feelings for him grew and grew until one day you realized that you were probably some form of in love with him.

It was something you planned to ignore for as long as you could.

Billy had come in early that morning looking rough in the same suit he’d worn the day before. You checked the lounge for his favorite brand of coffee and brewed that as you tried to remember what his schedule was for the day before. He’d had a late conference call, but that would have wrapped up before seven. So what had he done for the rest of the night that made him look like that?

When you brought the mug in to him, you figured it out. There was a smudge of lipstick on his jawline. First you handed the mug to him and then you took a step back.

“You have a ten o’clock meeting with General Hadley,” you recited from memory, “and a two o’clock meeting with some of the people that are set up for that Senator protection detail. Would you like anything ordered in for the two o’clock meeting?”

Billy looked up from the mug that he had been nursing like it was heaven in a cup. He met your eyes curiously. After a moment he narrowed his own eyes in your direction.

“You’re upset about something,” he gathered as he put the mug down. “I didn’t forget your birthday, did I? That’d be a pretty shitty boss move.”

That earned half a smile.

“Of course not. I’m not upset about anything, just maybe a little worried about you. You look like you’ve been through the ringer.”

He nodded, a yawn escaping him before he could stop it.

“Long night,” he mumbled as he looked down at the mug on his desk.

After a brief hesitation, you walked around his desk. In the second drawer was a pack of tissues that you had put in there when he had tried to deny having a cold. You pulled one out and then turned to face Billy. He looked curious as you reached out to him, scrubbing the tissue against his jaw. It came back tinted red.

“Ah,” he said as he took the tissue from you and rubbed at the same spot. “Thanks for that. Would have had to answer a lot of questions with Hadley if he’d seen that.”

You stepped back and turned away from him.

“I’ll run by your place and grab you a new suit,” you said as you walked to his office door, looking over your shoulder with a quick smile.

You couldn’t help but be a little surprised by him. While yes, Billy was an attractive, single man in a city that never sleeps, he usually didn’t sleep around during the week. Weekends were for things like that, not during the week when he had meetings with the brass and his people. Not when it could interfere with his work.

But you shouldn’t hold it against him. He was handsome, single, and well off. Of course he was going to have women throwing themselves at him.

You came back into the office a while later with a suit in a clothing bag. You held it up to him as you hung it on the coat rack near the door, not wanting to interrupt the phone call he was on.

He mouthed ‘thank you’ to you before he went back to trying to convince whoever he was talking to that Anvil was their best bet for what they were dealing with.

You had worked a little in the car to Billy’s place so you settled into your own office with a sigh. The chair was one of the most comfortable things you’d ever seen; it had been a gift for your one year with the company. You got comfortable, kicking your heels off under your desk, and unlocked your computer.

This company wouldn’t run itself.

------

Billy was out of the country. While he was gone, you ran the parts of the company that you could. In the time you’d worked for Anvil, Billy had given you more and more authority in his absence. At this point you could order Anvil to attack the government and you thought they’d listen.

Early in the morning on the fifth day of his week long trip, you came into the office wearing tight yoga pants, a tank top, and a sports bra. Your sneakers barely made a noise on the tile as you made your way through the office and towards the large open area where the work out equipment was.

You preferred to work out when no one else was in the building.

You plugged your phone into the treadmill and selected your workout playlist. It played softly from the speakers built into the treadmill. Usually you had your headphones plugged in, but you turned the volume up to play a little louder from the speakers instead.

Anvil was empty; you didn’t worry about disturbing anyone.

Running put you into a zone. You focused on the music, the feel of your feet pounding against the treadmill. When it gave the warning beep that meant that it was about to put your through a cool down, you blinked out of your haze. You’d zoned out through the entire thirty minute run.

Once the treadmill went from your pace to slower, slower, until it finally stopped, you hopped off and grabbed the bottle of water you had left on your bag. Right as you uncapped and tipped it up into your mouth, you saw the form of someone nearby.

“Shit!” You jumped, your bottle crashing to the floor and water squirting out.

Billy stood with his arms crossed over his chest, a grin on his face. You went to the treadmill and unplugged your phone, the music cutting off mid-beat.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he said with a smile as he bent down and picked up the water bottle which had rolled over towards him. “So this is why your keycard shows you checking into the building early some mornings.”

You grabbed the towel you had brought with you and wiped your face and neck, grimacing at the feel of sweat dripping down your chest. You looked up at Billy and noticed that he was still smiling as he looked you over.

“I prefer to work out when no one else is here,” you admitted as you slung the towel over your shoulders. “Speaking of being here when no one else is, I thought you weren't coming back for a few more days. I have a car that's supposed to pick you up from the airport on Saturday.”

He grinned as he handed you the water bottle.

“I know I rely on you for a lot, but I'm able to arrange my own transportation. I cancelled the pick up you had scheduled and got one last night.”

It was easier to just slide into work mode at that point.

“Should I be worried about why you're early then? I thought you said this was a major chance for Anvil.”

He shrugged his shoulder before he leaned against the wall.

“I'm not interested in expanding the business in that direction right now. I didn't close any doors, so don't start worrying about that. I doubt me leaving early is going to break any hearts.”

You didn't believe that. From the few of these trips that you had been on, you knew for a fact that Billy tended to find at least one heart to break on his travels. You doubted this trip was any different.

“I'm going to go get cleaned up and changed,” you said with a gesture towards the showers.

Billy simply nodded, still staring at you. You grabbed your bag and headed that direction, forcing yourself not to turn and look back at him. But as you turned the corner, you peeked.

He was staring down at the floor and smiling. Odd.

------

The gown you wore was a bit of a last minute decision, but you were glad you’d done it. Billy had taken one look at you and apparently swallowed his tongue along with whatever alcohol he was taking a sip of at the moment.

“That is one helluva dress,” he said as his eyes moved over you appreciatively.

“Well we’re here to win some business, right? Gotta look the part.”

You noticed that Billy seemed to keep one eye on you all night. It was sweet, that protective streak he felt towards his employees. You moved around the room with an ease that you had perfected over the few years you’d worked with Billy.

If you acted like you owned the place, people would believe that’s how it was.

“Can I have this dance?”

You looked over at Billy with a bit of a frown, surprise written on your face.

“You never dance at these things,” you argued even as you offered him your hand, allowing him to pull you onto the dance floor with other couples.

Not that the two of you were a couple. It was just two people dancing. A man and a woman that worked together. That’s all.

“Yeah, but sometimes you have to try something new,” he said in a low voice as his hand rested on your waist, pulling you in closer to him.

You looked around at the other people on the dance floor, trying as hard as you could to ignore the fact that you were slow dancing with your boss. With Billy. He was wearing the cologne you got him for Christmas last year and that knowledge plus his hand on your waist was making you worry that your palm was becoming sweaty in his grip.

“Why do you look like your casing the place for a window you can crawl out of?”

It startled a laugh out of you. He wasn’t far off the mark.

“I doubt I could crawl through a window with how tight this dress is,” you said with a grin as you turned to face him.

Bad move. Now you were trapped in those dark eyes that you refused to even let yourself fantasize about. But here you were, eye to eye with the man that you loved and would never have.

Oddly enough, Billy was the one that dropped the gaze. He looked down at your feet as the two of you continued to dance.

“You deserve more than Anvil,” he said finally, once you were certain he didn’t have anything else to say.

“What do you mean? I love the company.” I love you, you didn’t say.

“Yeah, and the company… the company loves you too, but it’s not enough for you. We both know that this wasn’t your dream job and we both know that you were always meant for more than being my secretary.”

“Executive assistant,” you corrected quietly, your heart racing. “Are you firing me?”

He met your eyes with an almost violent shake of his head.

“Fuck, no, definitely not,” he rushed to say, his hand tightening around yours. “I don’t want you to leave, but what I’m trying and failing to say is that if you want to find something that uses your degree and lets you meet your full potential, I’ll support you one hundred percent. I’ll even help you find something worthy of your hard work.”

He said it with a grin and a shrug as if it was nothing, but you felt a renewed sense of affection for this man. You released his hand and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him tight to you. Slowly his arms encircled your waist and he hugged you back.

“Thank you Billy,” you whispered as you rested your head on his shoulder. “I promise I won’t just leave you high and dry. If I do find something, I’ll help you train someone new before I leave.”

You felt his chest rumble with a short laugh.

“Anything for you,” he said as he tugged you in a little closer.

You closed your eyes and let yourself enjoy the moment.

------

The interview had gone perfectly. The owner of the company had shaken your hand and promised that you’d hear from them soon. You slipped into the backseat of the car and told the driver to take you to Anvil, mind swirling with ideas and images of your future.

It was what you went to school for. It was the job of your dreams. It was an amazing opportunity.

It also meant that you’d have to leave Anvil. Leave Billy. The sudden pang in your chest made you deflate in your seat. Could you leave Billy behind just like that? You had lived in each other’s pockets these past few years and suddenly you were supposed to go without seeing him all the time?

Maybe you’d still talk sometimes, but it wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t be the same as seeing him early in the morning before his coffee has kicked in and he’s still a little bleary eyed. It wouldn’t be the same as finding him pouring over papers in his office late and night and threatening him until he finally left. It wouldn’t be the same.

At the office, you quickly crossed in front of his closed office door and settled into your chair. As you started to log into the computer, you saw a sticky note on your desk.

Can you come to my office when you get in?

Even unsigned you knew it was from Billy. You grabbed your pen and the pad where you took notes before you slipped back down the hall to his office. You knocked gently and waited for him to tell you to come in before you turned the knob.

Two men sat across from Billy at his desk. You started to apologize, but Billy waved you in.

“Gentlemen, this is my executive assistant Y/N. She’s the one that looked over the marketing information you provided. It was actually her discovery about your numbers being off.”

It sounded more than it really was; you just noticed that their numbers didn’t add up to the numbers that you had found on your own. You’d presented it to Billy but hadn’t seen anything come from it.

One of the men looked bored but the other was looking you over as if you were wearing a lot less than the modest dress you were currently in. You tore your eyes away from the man who was basically undressing you with his eyes to look at Billy.

“You asked to see me Mr Russo?”

Billy smiled and picked up a packet off his desk. He held it out to you and you crossed over to accept it.

“That’s the proposal from Mr Hineman and Mr Clark. The shredder always works better for you,” he said pointedly, his mouth twitching up into a smirk as realization came over you.

He was making a point to them. You rolled your eyes, hidden from the men, and pulled the packet to you.

“Right away. Anything else I can do for you Mr Russo?”

Billy shook his head as he leaned back in his chair.

“That’ll be all Y/N, thank you.”

You smiled at him and made your way back out of the office. As you started to shut the door behind you, one of the men spoke. His words made you fumble with the door knob.

“She call you Mr Russo in bed?”

An embarrassed heat spread over you. But then you heard Billy’s chair squeak a bit as he probably leaned forward to face the man who had spoken.

“Here’s the thing, Hineman. I didn’t like you when you walked into my office but you’re a necessary evil. I would just like to remind you that while you were in college getting your third and fourth degrees, I was in Iraq with a sniper rifle, a knife, and the orders to defend our country.” Here his voice turned low and menacing, a shiver running down your back at his words. “You might want to remember that before you ever talk about her like that again.”

You wondered what Hineman’s reaction would have been, but you had a feeling it was something you’d have to see. Instead you were gifted with Clark’s two cents.

“If you’re not sleeping with her, can I? I’d like to see if I can make her lose some of her composure with my–”

You weren’t sure what the rest of the sentence was going to be and you found yourself grateful. All you heard was a commotion. You darted away from the door just in time to see Billy drag out the one that had been leering at you. He shoved the man away from him and then gestured for the startled looking Hineman to follow him out.

“You’ve got ninety seconds to get off my property before you find out why Anvil has the reputation it does,” he said with a threatening tone.

Both of the men were gone before you could even blink. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. In the time you’d worked for Billy, you’d never witnessed anything like that.

“You okay?” You looked over at Billy in surprise and found him staring at you with a gentle look on his face. “You heard them.”

It wasn’t a question. Either he knew that you were outside of the door or he had just assumed you had heard. You gave a quick nod, your eyes flitting from Billy to the door the men had left through.

“They were pissed because it was obvious I wasn’t going to give them the contract,” he said as he gently pried the packet from your fingers. “That was just their way of trying to piss me off. Guess they didn’t think I’d react.”

You wanted to know why he did. He could have shut them down any number of ways, but he’d made it personal. He’d threatened Hineman with physical violence and then he’d physically thrown Clark from the office.

But you weren’t scared of Billy. Even knowing what you knew from his past, you’d never been scared of him.

“Thank you for defending me,” you said quietly, your eyes darting away from Billy.

He stared at you for a long moment. Then he gave a brief nod before he gestured to his office.

“I’ll be in my office if you need anything,” he said before he turned on his heel and made his way into his office and shut his door.

You gripped your pen so hard that it felt like the plastic might fold so you forced yourself to relax. With a deep breath, you turned back to go to your own office.

------

Miss Y/L/N,

We wanted to thank you for coming in for an interview with us earlier this week. The board made a unanimous decision and we would like to formally offer you a position with our company. Please contact us at your earliest convenience so we can iron out any details.

Thank you,

R. Lincoln

------

Mr Lincoln,

I appreciate the opportunity to work with your company. I’m eager to begin this new chapter. We can discuss the details in person or over the phone if it works better for you.

I look forward to working with you and your company. Thank you.

Sincerely,

Y/N Y/L/N

------

The day you had told Billy that you had accepted an offer from another company, you had watched a series of emotions play over his face before he forced on a smile.

“Wonderful news. When do you start?”

It felt forced. You tried to smile as you explained that you would start at the beginning of the month, giving you about three weeks left at Anvil.

“Guess we better start looking for your replacement,” he said as he looked down at the papers on his desk. They weren’t important, but he was acting as if they were the only thing that mattered in that moment. “I’ll leave it to you. You’ll know more about what to expect from the position.”

You put the listing up and filtered through the resumes with a critical eye. You couldn’t leave Anvil in anything less than capable hands.

You had two good contenders and you called them both in for interviews. When you asked Billy if he wanted to join you, he had simply raised an eyebrow and shrugged a shoulder.

“I trust your judgement,” he had said before he turned and walked away.

The two women you called in were pretty good fits. Eleanor had been in the position at other companies and had a lot of references. Darla went to college and had a few degrees under her belt that spoke to experience for the job.

When you had them in front of you, you weren’t sure what to do. Eleanor was in her mid to late forties, quick to smile but down to earth when it came to the responsibilities you listed to her. And Darla? She was a little younger than you and looked a lot like she had been a beauty queen.

Actually it was in her resume and you’d missed it. She was Miss North Dakota a few years ago.

You didn’t want to turn Darla down just because she was beautiful. She was still a good fit for the company, seemed perfectly capable of doing the job.

But the idea of having her work under Billy? It provided image after image of Darla being under Billy in other circumstances.

You were looking at their photos on your computer, a mental pro and con list growing as you tried to make a decision. While you stared at the screen, you didn’t notice someone coming up behind you until a hand rested on your shoulder.

“Eleanor worked under McNabb for three years? She must have nerves of steel to want to get into private security again,” he said as he looked over the information under her name. Then he looked over at the other list. “And Darla comes highly recommended from professors at two different colleges as well as her last job. She’s got enthusiasm at least.”

You became rigid under his hand. A glance up at his face didn’t show anything as he looked over the photos.

Was he just so used to being around beautiful women that it didn’t affect him anymore?

“I’m not sure about Darla,” you said as you looked back at your computer. “I don’t want to leave without the perfect person in the position.”

“They’ll have big shoes to fill no matter who you pick, but why not Darla? She seems qualified,” he added in confusion as he turned to perch on the edge of your desk.

You tried to ignore the man at your side, the way he was focused completely on you.

“Because, well, she…” You didn’t know how to word it without sounding horrible.

He was grinning. You weren’t looking straight at him, but you could tell that he was grinning.

“You don’t want to hire her because she’s pretty,” he said in a taunting tone. “Surely you aren’t one of those people that think you can only be pretty or smart but not both.”

You definitely weren’t one of those people. Even if you had been, working for Billy would had turned you from that notion. He was easily the most attractive person you’d ever met and he was also easily one of the most intelligent. It was unnerving really.

You knew you needed to try to be at least a little honest with him.

“I don’t want to hire her because you think she’s pretty,” you said as you looked down at your hands in your lap.

You had a list of reasons why that could be a bad idea, not the least being because of the crap that he had caught from Hineman and Clark because of you. You didn’t want him to go through that again. And you didn’t want him to get distracted…

You didn’t want him to get involved with someone else. Not someone real. One night stands were something else, something you had tried to learn to accept and something you had noticed he hadn’t been doing lately, but if he got involved with someone that worked for him? That would kill you.

“You think I’ll get myself in trouble because of a pretty face? I’m touched,” he joked as he he knocked his knee into your elbow, smiling to show that he wasn’t actually offended by your words. Then he stood up with a shrug, straightening his jacket. “You’ve worked for me for years and I’ve been nothing but a gentleman, right? And you’re easily ten times more beautiful than she is.”

He said it so simply, like it was something he’d said a dozen times before. Then with a bit of a grin he turned away and left your office.

As if he hadn’t turned your world on its axis. Billy thought you were beautiful? More than that, he thought you were ten times more beautiful that Miss North Dakota?

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as you looked over at the door to his office. You weren’t sure what it was, but you felt like you were on the cusp of figuring something out.

------

Billy came into your office with a bottle of scotch in one hand, two glasses in the other. He raised the bottle and then sat down in the chair across from your desk.

“Have a drink with me,” he said as he untwisted the top.

You frowned as you looked at the clock and then back up at Billy.

“I’m leaving in about five minutes,” you said even as you accepted the freshly poured drink. “I sent Eleanor home already.”

He nodded as he poured his own drink.

“I saw her leave. She said she’s excited for Monday.”

Monday. You would be starting your new job and Eleanor would become Billy’s full time executive assistant. You hadn’t hired Darla, but not because of your personal hang ups. Eleanor had the experience and the background that worked for the position.

And yeah, maybe some of it was still your personal hang ups. Despite what Billy had said, you still couldn’t stomach the idea of Darla working for him.

You raised your glass to him in a toast before you took a sip. The alcohol slid down your throat with a bit of a burn, but you didn’t even flinch.

He was staring at you with fondness as he sipped his own drink. You laughed and shook your head, sloshing the alcohol around in your glass.

“We’ve never done this before,” you said with a smile, gesturing between the two of you with the glass. “You and me and a bottle of really expensive scotch.”

He shrugged a shoulder and leaned back. You watched him glance at his watch before he met your eyes again.

“Consider it a farewell. You worked for me for over two years; can’t let that end without a proper send off.”

You smiled and looked down at your glass. From the corner of your eye you saw him glance at his watch again. Then he downed the rest of his drink in one go.

A look at the clock said that it was about thirty seconds after five; you were officially no longer an employee of Anvil.

“I should probably go,” you said as you looked at the last cardboard box of your belongings to take home.

Billy stood up in a rush. He put his empty glass down on the top of your desk before he crossed over to where you were sitting. You were about to stand and offer him a handshake, because surely that’s what was going to happen, when he leaned down. He braced his hands on the arms of your chair, effectively trapping you there.

“You’re not my employee anymore,” he said lowly, his dark brown eyes darting from your eyes to your lips.

“That’s right,” you said breathlessly, not even blinking for fear it might break the spell.

“Y/N,” he uttered softly, his head bending down just a bit until you were separated by only a few inches, “unless you tell me to stop right now, I’m going to kiss you. Because I’ve wanted to kiss you for a few years and I’m damn tired of waiting.”

“Oh,” you gasped, the air leaving your lungs in a rush. And then because it looked like he was still waiting for you to respond, to either ask him to stop or give him the go ahead, “That sounds like a good idea.”

His grin was there for a split second before his lips were on yours. You reached up to cup his jaw, angling your head against his as you kissed. His hand came around to support the back of your head as he leaned over you a little more, changing the angle of the kiss.

Years. He’d wanted this for years? You tugged on his hair as you deepened the kiss, your body surging forward and up as much as you could from your seat, tasting the scotch in his mouth as your tongue slid against his.

He pulled back to look at you, his eyes dark as they zeroed in on your lips and where you were breathing heavily from the kiss.

“That’s what you were waiting years to do?”

He laughed, the air brushing your lips. He stood up straight, shifting his weight a bit.

You caught sight of it then, something you’d never seen on Billy’s face before: uncertainty. Well you were having none of that.

You stood up and looked at the box of your belongings. You brushed your finger over the edge of the cardboard before you looked over at Billy.

“Not to be the damsel in distress, but this box is ridiculously heavy,” you said as you turned away to grab your coat. You gave Billy a grin as you continued, “Do you think you can help me get it to my apartment?”

There it was again, that dark look in his eyes. He tugged you forward into another kiss, his hands framing your face as his mouth moved over yours. Then he pulled back and picked up the box with one hand, the items rattling around.

It wasn’t even half full. His eyes sparked with mischief as he gestured for you to go ahead of him.

Your worry that leaving Anvil meant not seeing Billy anymore apparently couldn’t have been further from the truth. Leaving Anvil opened you up for the ability to be with Billy fully. And that was worth losing the really amazing computer chair.

Although maybe you could convince Billy to get you another one for your new office.

Let me know if you want to be added to my Permanent Tag List @hermioneshandbag @onebatch--twobatch @smiley-celine @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @starless-skyox @youveseen--thebutcher @citation-is-here @mightymelly @realduckvader @1550kilogramsofsilver @hxbbit @rockintensse @missphanosaur18 @thepuffyeyedpuff @the-three-eyed-ravenclaw @yessy2012 @gingerstarlight @siriusement @marauderskeeper @xinyourdreamsx @wickidlady @sassygirl25 @maraudereestauderelb @rainyboul @cutie-bug @random-quartz @holamor @lea----b @heyitslexy @detectivebourbon @coffeenmoscato @presstocontinue @elisemockingbird @assbuttwithwings @geeksareunique @siriuslovesmarlene @witch-of-letters @delicatelilyflower @l-l-c-m-w-b @whovianayesha @hiddenprincess @yannii04 @jeanettexkillian @brighteststarinthesky @kilyra @gallxntdean @sweetvengeancee @lady1505 @thedarklightwithinus @ateliefloresdaprimavera @siriuslyimmoony @elodieyung @fudgeflyss @madamrogers @thatwrestlingfan91 @teranya @sophiabulbu69 @delusionsofnostalgia @effielumiere @mamaraptor @hot-and-spiceyyy @i-padfootblack-things @aya-fay @fcavalerro @sithskywalkers @raquelbc2003 @iwishyoucouldbekissed @lostinthoughts23 @tamanamohain @newtstarmander @suchatinyinfinity @blushingskywalker @queencocoakimmie @funerals-with-cake @love-dria @arrowswithwifi @swiftyhowlz @cheyfleur @dark-night-sky-99 @margot-black @celestegolden @king4thesirens @beautifuldesastre @ashkuuuu @luminex3 @nerdypinupcrystal @iblogabout-stuff @curlyhairedblueeyedangel @myplaceofheavenorhell @cafeconsoya @nea90sweetie @traeumerinwitzhelden @kryyta @russosprettydiamondnow @dorkybryan @mahalobro @yesixoxo

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#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #my writing #requests

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stylo-xx · 6 years

Text

Eyes Closed (M)

G-Dragon: Angst/Small amount of fluff/Smut

PART 9-A: Telephone Games

A/N: more to come soon

P.S: songs for your listening pleasure (The Horrors)

(Part One)||(Part Two-A)||(Part Two-B)||(Part Three)||(Part Four)||(Part Five-A)||(Part Five-B)||(Part Five-C)||(Part Six)(Part Seven)||(Part Eight)||(Part Nine-B)

Ji-Yong twirled his phone in his hands before unlocking it for the hundredth time before sighing heavily and locking it back up.

“You know, they say doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result is insanity right?” Young-Bae raised an eyebrow.

Ji-Yong ignoring his best friend, absentmindedly scoffed as he stared at the black screen of his phone.

“How many weeks is it now that you’ve been waiting for her to hit you up?” “I don’t know I lost count...but I’m betting less than the amount of texts I’ve sent her” Ji-Yong sighed as he plopped his phone on his chest as he slunk into the couch “the fucked up thing is that she never has her read receipts on but she turned them on just so I could see she that she left me on read...” “Ouch, that’s a bit harsh” “A bit? She’s rubbing that bullshit excuse for a relationship in my face” he furrowed his brows. “By not responding to your texts?” “In case you’ve forgotten, any of those millions of pictures she’s been posting of her and that asshole, she made it official. Like to the public! God! it’s like even when we first got together we kept it as low key as we could for a while but suddenly she just wants everyone and their mother to know how great her newfound relationship with Satan is” “I mean you did kinda rub your non existent, happy relationship with Cassie in her face so—” “So nothing! That wasn’t an invite for her to stay pissed at me while she’s out ‘having the time of her life’ and rub it in my face” “What did you want her to do exactly?” “I don’t fucking know! Tell me that she’s sorry and she made a mistake and she needs me back” “So you basically want her to feel guilty for being in a functioning relationship with someone else?” “I guess when you put it that way then...yeah, kinda...yeah” Young-Bae sighed as he sat on the couch beside his best friend. “I’ve done everything she wanted me to do and yet here I am still not with her! I mean I got sober!—for the most part at least...I haven’t fucked anyone else!—except for those three girls in Japan I tried to distract myself with...but she practically has me crawling on my hands and knees begging her to get back with me” “I mean she does think you have a girlfriend…”

“That’s beside the point!”

“I don’t know maybe just tell her Cassie isn’t your actual girlfriend? Maybe just tell her the truth? Ever think about that?” “And run the risk of her getting even more pissed at me for lying? I think I’m good” Young-Bae sighed heavily “you ever think about just moving on? Clearly she has” Jiyong raised an eyebrow “you’re joking right? Besides, I can’t just ‘move on…” “Why not?” “Because I love her. And I know I fucked up, on more than one occasion, but I wanna make up for it before I don’t get the chance to” Young-Bae nodded his head absentmindedly “Also because I just can’t...I can’t. Physically, mentally I can’t. And I know it sounds stupid but I can’t” “Doesn’t sound stupid, just tiresome for the both of you” Ji-Yong bit his lip as he sat in deep thought for a moment. “Okay let’s say that, for instance, I were to just let her go and I ‘move on’ with someone else” he air quoted “--further down the line we’re able to see each other happy with someone else and not have any kind of feelings for one another and we manage to be best friends again—” “Doesn’t sound like a bad scenario to me” Young-Bae interjected.

“—let’s say that even further down the line, a year from now, two years from now things go great with both of our significant others and one day she calls me up all excited to tell me she got engaged to him—” Young-Bae opened his mouth to speak, Ji-Yong held up a hand to shush him before he could utter a single syllable “Then it hits me like a ton of bricks that I in-fact am not only not over her, but this wave of panic takes over me and come the day of her wedding all I’m gonna wanna do is to get wasted and tell her I’m still in love her and that she’s making a huge mistake marrying him and she should just run away with me. But then she tells me that she doesn’t feel that same way anymore and she marries him any way. But where the hell does that leave me Young-Bae? Huh? Where does that leave me? All alone wishing I had done something earlier”

He had gotten so worked up he stood up mid monologue. “I mean you see I’m in the right here, right?” Ji-Yong turned his body toward him. “Honestly I’m not so inclined to tell you where I stand on this whole mess between the two of you” “What why not?” “Because no matter what I say, you two do the complete opposite and frankly just don’t know how to help anymore. I will be here for you until the very end but I just don’t know how to help either of you” Ji-Yong furrowed his brows. Young-Bae crossed his arms across his chest “sure you say you got ‘sober’ and you haven’t screwed anyone else, not counting those three girls, but...do you honestly think you can change at this point?” “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” “What I think I’m trying to say is, Ji-Yong nobody believes you anymore. You’re a sad ass liar” “What did you just call me?” “You deserve to be lonely”

“What the fuck Young-Bae?!” “You can’t change. You wouldn’t know how to even if you actually tried” Ji-Yong squared up to his best friend. “She is much happier with him...you? You’ll only be the end of her...you’re just poison” The words and the image of his best friend started to become distorted as his words began to echo in his head as if in some horror movie. Tossing and turning in bed he awoke in a cold sweat

“Fuck!” He ran his hands over his face before he turned to face the glowing green numbers on his alarm clock on his night stand. Three AM.

‘Goddamn it’ he thought He sat up on one elbow to reach across the night stand to grab his phone. He groaned as he hit the home button prompting the screen to turn on blinding him with the light. He shut one eye as he turned down the brightness and began to scroll through his texts. He bit his lip contemplating opening the thread that read ‘Alex’. He had finally changed her name in his phone, considering he had called her now on more than one occasion, he wasn’t afraid of drunk dialing her anymore. What he was afraid of was that the reason she wasn’t responding was because she had blocked his number and all together tossed any and all memory of him in the figurative garbage. For the past month and a half, Ji-Yong had for the most part managed to stay sober despite his own brain clawing at his skull telling him to just down a few bottles until he wound up in the hospital again; that way she would have to come see him. And with his onset new sobriety, he’s even managed to stay celibate somehow. Though in retrospect he thought he went a bit overboard with trying to clean his act up. With his body not used to not having some sort of release it had inadvertently made him sensitive to the human touch. Just days prior at press junket during the translators speaking to the press, Seung-Hyun had leaned over to whisper something in Ji-Yong’s ear and it almost instantaneously sent shivers down his spine. Since then the others had teased Ji-Yong relentlessly randomly blowing on his neck, massaging his head and so on and so forth. Not having sex for as long as he had, had only made him rely on his imagination and his right hand. Though admittedly it just wasn’t the same as watching the person beneath beneath him squirm and claw at his back in ecstasy.

His thumb hesitantly hovered over her name in bold black text in his recent calls list; he weighed his options in his head as his bit his lip.

‘Was twenty-two unanswered calls one too many past desperate?’ he thought.

He sighed heavily placing one arm behind his head and leaning back into his mountain of pillows.

“Fuck it” he muttered to himself pressing dial anticipating the robotic voice he had come to know far too well.

Sure enough, not even a full ring on the receiver and he was sent directly to voicemail. Sighing again, he pulled his phone away from his ear readying to hang up as the robotic woman delivered her speech he had come to know by heart. Just as his finger was mere centimeters away from the red button he retracted his finger placing the phone back up to his ear.

‘--Please leave your message after the tone’

He took a deep breath before speaking

“Hey uh Alex its me...Ji-Yong” he chuckled awkwardly “I mean I guess you already know that ‘cause of the caller ID...umm it’s three AM here...I--I thought I’d actually leave you a message finally. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay...you hadn’t called me back so--just let me know how you’re doing...even just a--”

Two beeps signaling the call ending cut him off mid sentence.

“Mother fucker...” he muttered as he plopped his phone onto his chest and slunk even further into his sea of pillows and bed sheets.

He wasn’t sure where to go from here. He had tried his best to backpedal from when his own plan backfired straight onto his face the night of the dinner with Suho and company, though his efforts were all for naught. It had been a month and a half now and he still hadn’t heard back from Alex. At this point things weren’t looking to be in his favor; or so he felt that way.

“A-Bomb, calm down!”

“Liar!” she slurred as she drunkenly threw another half eaten chocolate at the mural advertisement on the side of the building.

“You’re wasting perfectly good chocolate!” Sash struggled behind Alex trying to grasp her by the wrist “besides the Guess model with the nice ass didn’t do anything to you!”

“No!”

“Alex, give me the box of chocolates!”

“No!” she wriggled herself free sprinting in the opposite direction.

“Alexandra!” Sash panted as she chased behind her.

“No, she’s fine...” Saige sighed as she looked behind her “we’re walking back from the pub to the hotel now”

‘All that yelling doesn’t sound fine to me’

“Don’t even worry, she’ll be over it soon”

‘I just don’t want her to have some sort of meltdown at that award show for it to be broadcasted for millions of people to see. Saige, you promised me that this new guy was going to help keep her reputation in pristine status’

“Chill out Davis, trust me on this. This guy is actually good for her, if not just making her look good”

‘Looking good is part of her job, that’s not the problem Sai--’

“To the public!” she scoffed “you know what I meant”

‘Listen, all I want out of this is that this show makes it look like she got her shit together and judging by how things sound on your end I am not so convinced’

“They’ve made it this far without her looking like a complete lunatic--”

‘Have you gone deaf or am I the only one hearing her screaming ‘fuck these stupid fucking chocolates’ Saige?’

“Trust me--”

‘You keep telling me to trust you Saige but your argument is mute!’

“Listen to me you hard headed genius of a man!” she huffed into the receiver “you asked me to take over her social media and make it look like she’s unbelievably happy and in love, and did I deliver?”

‘Yes…’

“You asked me to make sure she didn’t run her career into the ground when she came back to Seoul a few months ago, and did I not do that?”

‘It didn’t exactly go as smoothly as I asked...’ he sighed.

“Did I or did I not manage to turn that scandle into making her look good?”

‘Yes, but she almost went completely off the deep end with that asshole again Saige! Don’t think I didn’t find out about that’

“That is besides the point!” she scoffed “point is I got her to open her eyes, and with a little coaxing from Suho and from the douchebag’s own stupidity, she made the right choice and chose Suho”

‘This isn’t another episode of Grey’s Anatomy of McDreamy VS. McVet we’re talking about here kid, we’re talking about one of my biggest money makers almost running away with the Rebel Without a Cause and costing me lots of money when she can’t film anything because she’s either too distraught to work or because studios don’t want her because she has too much baggage following her!’

“Okay, first of all don’t talk about her like she’s some piggy bank” she furrowed her brows “you’ve known her since she was like twelve! And secondly the big picture here is Davis, she didn’t run away with that egotistical sadomasochist--”

‘The big picture here Saige, is she’s drunkenly running around throwing confectioneries on the darkened street corners of London at two in the morning!’

She sighed heavily.

‘Listen…’ he paused ‘I get that you have got your work cut out for you especially since you are her best friend, and I know sometimes it’s hard to draw the line between PR rep and her best friend but I won’t allow her to make her make a mockery of herself and this agency again. Only way I’ll let her even show up to that award show is if you guarantee me she and that new guy make as big of headlines as the Royal Wedding and if she has absolutely zero contact with that dragon mother fucker’

“Don’t even worry I’m already way ahead of you on that…”

‘Meaning?’

“Meaning that since you’ve had me manage her social media that means I am in full control of her phone...”

‘Go on keep talking’

“And ‘dragon mother fucker’ for the past month and a half since they saw each other last, has been relentlessly trying to contact her so I’ve just--more or less been withholding that information from her and deleting the messages; hence the drunken meltdown, she thinks he’s completely forgotten about her”

‘You keeping secrets from her now?’

She could hear the amused grin spreading across his face.

“What she doesn’t know wont hurt her...besides her being this pissed at him will only make it easier for her not wanting anything to do with him at the award show or any time after that. If she thinks he just up and moved on with that girl he’s supposedly dating she has no choice but to swallow her pride and move on too; for good”

He chuckled ‘wouldn’t be show business if a little scheming wasn’t involved. I love it, keep her as far removed from him as possible, soon enough he’ll be nothing more than a memory; if we’re lucky he won’t be anything at all to her any time soon’

“We can only hope, and Suho is completely onboard with the idea so that’s another person in our corner”

‘The new boyfriend is even in on this?!’ he cackled ‘oh Saige, I knew you were the best of the best but this is just fantastic! But aren’t you scared of what she’ll do to you if she finds out this whole plan of yours?’

She bit her lip “I’ve thought about it--”

‘And?’

“And she might--no, she will hate me but it’s in her best interest. Besides he’s been helping keeping her distracted by taking her on dates and umm… keeping her physically entertained…”

‘She hates to work out, she likes this guy that much?’

“Sometimes I wonder how you’ve managed to become a multimillionaire with the things that come out of your mouth” she scoffed “sex Davis, I’m talking about sex!”

‘Oh! Well why didn’t you just say they’ve been fucking then?!’ he cackled again.

“Didn’t really think that’d be suiting conversation to have with my boss”

‘So what happened tonight then? Sex got stale all of a sudden?’ he chortled.

She made a eugh noise “oh no they had sex, multiple times so she said. She just came knocking on my room door saying that she couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to bother him and since the pubs stay open late here she said she just wanted to get a few drinks to maybe help her chill out and then two hours and three heart-shaped boxes of chocolates later and well here we are...she’s piss ass drunk throwing chocolates all over the place and yelling at denim advertisements”

‘Well aside from her drunken rampage it seems like you have things more under control that I thought. Keep it that way, and keep that dragon guy as far away from her as possible’

“Oh, believe me I plan to”

#g dragon smut #g dragon scenarios #g dragon fanfiction #g dragon imagines #g dragon fluff #gdragon scenarios #gdragon fanfiction #gdragon smut #gdragon angst #gdragon imagines #bigbang scenarios #bigbang fanfic #bigbang fanfiction #bigbang imagines #bigbang angst

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michaelina520imvu-blog · 5 years

Text

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docfuture · 7 years

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Sparring Match, Part 1

[My writing productivity has been poor for the last few months, for several reasons, and I'm still resolving some problems with The Maker's Ark. I intended this fill-in as a short vignette, but it expanded into a two-part cliffhanger psychological mystery. It takes place during The Maker's Ark, between Chapter 30 and Chapter 32. The most recent regular chapter is here, links to my other work here. I'm shooting for next week for Part 2, but it may end up being two weeks.]

Yiskah hit the mat in the gym and rolled back to her feet facing Breakpoint. "Well, that didn't work either," she said, and grinned. He grinned back. "Did for a while," he said. "I had to wait until you attacked again." He'd gotten past her defenses with a snap kick to the abdomen. She'd been a little too careful guarding against a hand strike that had never materialized while recovering from her own blocked attack. They'd been sparring for about half an hour. They were both skilled martial artists, though their preferred styles differed. They had about the same amount of experience, and Breakpoint was in superb shape for a physically normal human. Up until a few months ago, Yiskah had been as well. Now her body was superhuman, a side effect from a battle with an extradimensional being that was already the subject of epic poetry and mythology. She was slightly faster than him, had more endurance, and was strong enough to lift the back of a truck one-handed. She could also read minds. None of that had affected the results much yet. "Catch our breath before we go on?" she asked, wiping her forehead. "Sure." They walked over to the bench against the wall. Breakpoint wiped his face with a towel before sitting down. Yiskah took a drink of water before joining him. At least I made him sweat, she thought. Very few people could manage that. She'd gotten in one very light tap right at the beginning, which he had acknowledged with a smile. She hadn't been able to touch him since. Breakpoint had golden tan skin, dark hair and eyes, and an easy, cheerful smile. Speculation about his ethnicity was more a Rorschach test than a useful exercise, and he always replied 'American mutt' when asked about it. He carried a crowbar when he was working, and his normal 'costume' was a coverall. People who regarded his appearance as suspicious soon found out that the best possible result from pressing further was serious embarrassment. Especially if they were a cop. There were a number of crooked or excessively violent former law enforcement personnel in jail because of Breakpoint. Early in his career, he had made that a hobby. But word had gotten around, and they'd stopped taking the bait. He'd started working with Jumping Spider fairly recently. Yiskah found his mind an interesting contrast to Donner. Both were self-confident and outwardly easygoing, but Donner had a consciousness of his own buried anger and potential to cause harm that kept him on edge during crises. Breakpoint's danger sense let him stay more relaxed--it gave him time to think, and he used it. "Thanks for the workout," he said. "It's rare for me to get a real one, because... Well, you know." He grinned. Yiskah laughed. "Yeah, I do. And my pleasure. Ready for the fun part, now that we're warmed up?" "You bet." They moved back to the practice mat and stood facing each other, about ten feet apart. "All right," she said. "We've established that danger sense beats mind scan, at least for hand-to-hand." "It's close," he said. I needed all my skill and reflexes, too. If I didn't have those..." "You do, though. My slight edge in speed isn't enough to make up for the delay between your danger sense going off and my mind scan picking it up. And you can vary your counters without thinking about them, which is key." Yiskah smiled. "But I can do more, and so can you. I've put quite a bit of thought into the test mix for the rest, but before we start, be clear that there is no way to avoid the potential for privacy violation, acute personal discomfort, and both of us learning more than we really wanted about the other. You okay with that?" "Comes with the territory. I've gone up against empaths, but never a full telepath--and I'd sure rather learn from you than a hostile one. This wouldn't work if it weren't--" "--a little dangerous," she finished, and he grinned again. "Okay, safety. I should be able to pick it up, but if you want to stop but can't verbalize, tap me on the left shoulder. Right shoulder is substitute for a hard counter you don't want to use because of potential damage. Sound fair?" "Got it. I'm ready whenev--" He stopped speaking suddenly, and his eyes narrowed. "Heh." Breakpoint looked at her intently. "You aren't moving. You aren't intending to move. But you're doing something that's making my danger sense flash like a turn signal. On and off. Again and again. What?" "Planning to start an aggressive mind probe if your danger sense doesn't go off. But it does, so I don't. I'm just picking up your surface reaction with my scan, so I can't tell if the danger is diminishing with repetition. Is it?" "No." "Interesting. A fast probe is sufficiently obnoxious to set off your danger sense, even though you've never experienced one. Which isn't terribly surprising, they're usually unpleasant even for me. We've just verified that you can pick up purely conditional mental intent, if it's enough of a threat." "Yeah. Okay, it's stopped. Now what?" "Now I can try a whole bunch of formerly risky things more safely. Because I'll be bringing you along, so anything bad will happen to us both." "But it won't? Because my danger sense will go off, your scan will pick it up, and you'll stop?" "Exactly." Yiskah rubbed her hands together. "Now I'd like to see if your danger sense works on a constructed threat inside a mentally projected scenario." "What kind?" "Have you ever been on a stakeout where you've had to conceal your awareness rather than hide?" "Yeah, a few times. I've--oh, cool." They stood on the edge of a city park at night. Several street lights kept them from complete darkness, but the illumination didn't extend to a nearby alley entrance. They were both dressed for a night on the town, and Yiskah moved closer to take his hand. "I know this place," he said. "How are you--" "I'm pulling it from your memories. Everything you noticed will be here." He frowned for a moment then looked to the side. "I could have sworn that old fountain wasn't there when I first looked." "It wasn't--until you remembered it." She smiled. "Here's the setup. Our target is meeting someone down that alley, but he won't show if he doesn't get an all clear. A not-very-bright flunky is coming out to check in a second. But we're just a couple getting some air after a party--and clearly too involved with each other to bother with anything else." She leaned back against him, half-closed her eyes and sighed contentedly. He snorted, but put his hands around her waist. They could both feel the sense of tension Yiskah was projecting as part of the test. "Did Jumping Spider give you lessons?" he whispered in her ear. She laughed softly. "I wish. Any danger?" "Not that I can feel." They discreetly observed the figure that stepped from the alley, looked around, then went back in. The sense of tension dropped after he did. "Scenario complete," said Yiskah, and their surroundings blinked again, leaving them back in the training gym, still in the same relative positions. She closed her eyes the rest of the way and brushed her cheek against his. "Any danger now? Or unpleasantness?" Breakpoint chuckled. "Hardly. What did you learn?" "Something very important to me. And very difficult to test ethically." "Oh?" "My water bottle is over on the bench. Care to go get it for me?" "Why? I don't want to..." He trailed off, and she listened as his mind raced. "Oh, that was slick," he said finally. "I never got a hint. Are you suppressing my danger sense somehow?" "Not a bit. You aren't in any danger." "It's still a little scary. Is there anyone else out there who could manage what you just did?" "I doubt it. Until just now, I wasn't sure I could. Certainly not anyone who isn't a full telepath and has to rely on verbal commands. I'm being very careful not to tell you to do anything you aren't already inclined to do, or prevent you from doing anything you consider important. And if I hadn't planned that--your danger sense would have gone off first." "Huh. It feels... worryingly pleasant, if that makes sense." "Oh yeah. So. Using your other power, the one you have issues testing on people--how do you get free from mind control?" "From you? I wait. You might monologue for a while, but eventually you'll just let me go." "Hmm. Any faster way?" He was quiet for a moment. "Nothing I'm willing to try. You have some kind of multiple personality vulnerability, but it’s definitely dangerous to look closer. How many of you are in there, anyway?" "Heh. Four at the moment--it should only be three, but, well..." "Yeah. Not something I'm willing to stir up for practice. I don't get to see all the consequences--just the right place to poke." Breakpoint's other power, the one that gave him his name, was weakness detection. Like his danger sense, it was a limited form of precognition. For inanimate objects, it told him the precise spot to strike to break or disable them. For people, it was messier--and more dangerous. Yiskah was sure it had more versatility than he'd demonstrated publicly, but he was reluctant to test it because of the risks. "That's fine. You've already given me several valuable insights. So I'll let you go now. In a way, it did work. There." She turned to face him again as he stepped back. "Okay, what next?" he asked. "I'd like to see how comfortable you are with my telepresence--in case you're doing fieldwork and want my help in a hurry..." The next twenty minutes weren't as physically tiring as the sparring, but they were still a workout--just a less visible one.

"All right. Formal tests over," said Yiskah, after they finished the last one. "Whoo. Now that was mind-expanding," he said, as he sat back down on the bench. "Fun, too." She stretched, enjoying his reaction as he watched. "Okay. I got a little background danger spike, but it went away quick. Now what are you doing?" "Just what you see. And mind scan. You aren't as good at hiding your surface thoughts when we aren't physically sparring." "I stopped trying--because you have to be doing that on purpose. But I have no intent to offend." "You aren't offending me. At all." Yiskah chuckled. "Now... there's an interesting theory about how you could use your danger sense. You know the one. And why people find it so interesting." He shook his head. "It doesn't work like that. It's not like mind-reading or telepathy. It doesn't let me find the right thing to do. Or even avoid the wrong thing--just the dangerous thing. So it won't help with--" "It could. With someone capable of being dangerous to you. And a lot of self-discipline, or at least self-awareness. And who you are interested in, and trust. Not a lot of people in that club. But it's not empty. Is it?" "Ah... I'm not sure--" "I'm sure it's worth trying. You aren't because you don't know me well enough yet. We can fix that." She smiled. "And then you won't have to wonder anymore. We can test it. Perfectly safely." "Except for the dangerous part." "Just like the rest of the tests. What do you think of...?" She sent a projection of a possibility--and felt him react. "Um," he said. "Is that an 'um, no' or an 'um, yes'? Any danger?" "No danger, but... right here?" "Room is sealed, monitors are privacy locked, mat is padded. And life is too short." "Whoo. Were you planning this from the beginning?" "Oh yeah. You have danger sense and I can read your mind. We can skip past all the BS. And I don't have to be careful every. Damned. Second. Do you have any idea how much that turns me on? So how about it?" He stared back at her for a moment, looking for any sign of deception--and finding none. "Sure."

It didn't go quite how she had foreseen. But he found a path that worked, for both of them, in a wordless exchange of desire and intent, balance and consent. And pleasure. She was content.

The contentment stayed. It was a rare feeling for Yiskah. She knew to take such times as gifts, even when she knew how they would end. She luxuriated in it as she dressed again, outside the shower. Breakpoint had already finished his, so they spoke telepathically. "I understand your caution," she sent. "I think your danger sense and weakness detection are part of a continuum rather than separate, just like my mind scan and mind probes. But your perfectionism was a little frustrating. I was like 'I'm ready, already, go go go!'" She sent her laughter along with the words. "Danger sense only helps if I listen to it. Carefully." "Fair enough." She returned to the main room. He had changed back into his street clothes after his own shower, and was sitting on the bench, hands clasped in front of him. He had the slightly wary expression of someone who thought everything had gone too well and was waiting for the other shoe to drop. "So," she said, and sat down beside him. She put an arm around his waist and leaned against him. "Let's talk about your real worry." He looked down at his hands. "I'm sorry that I--" "Not the shift in who you were thinking about. That's not under conscious control--and I wouldn't expect or want you to hide it, even if you could. It won't bother her, and it sure didn't bother me." Yiskah smiled. "When I was nine, Jumping Spider was who I wanted to be when I grew up." "Ah." More wariness. "I'm talking about why you haven't done this with her. Or anything other than fieldwork. Yet." "We've... considered it. Twice. And both times my danger sense went off." Yiskah nodded slowly. "Did you explain?" "Yeah. And the second time, it was clear it wasn't an outside problem. She seemed pretty frustrated. The warnings I get for social stuff aren't like the spikes I use to dodge physical threats--they can be really vague. I didn't get what was wrong or how to bypass it. But I'm not willing to ignore them." He looked down again. "Made that mistake before. Not going to make it again." "Any ideas why?" "Yeah. I really like her. And it sure seems to be mutual. But I've already started thinking about the long term. Lots of ways that could go wrong. I don't want it to. And I don't want to jeopardize our work--we're going after Tabula Rasa, and I'm covering early warning for both of us. I can't afford to lose my center in the field." "Is there a reason you haven't just sat down to talk it over with her?" "We haven't had the chance--we've been busy. Covering for Doc, finding out what was up with Donner, and then the assassination attempt and Tabula Rasa. Sure, we've had a little time here and there. Enough time to have some fun, as she put it. But not to start a talk that might help us figure out why it isn't safe--that could go anywhere. I just don't know." "Well, I can tell her to make the time. This is not an issue that's going to get better on--" "Stop!" said Breakpoint. Yiskah had already picked up the warning from his mind, and changed her intent to contact Jumping Spider telepathically. She frowned and checked with Prime instead. "Ah. Flicker crashed their meeting and... Okay, that definitely qualifies as dangerous. I'm not going to joggle her elbow when she just called Flicker a bloodthirsty spoiled brat to her face." "Still dangerous, not as bad," he said. "Yeah. Sounds like Flicker is getting briefed--and deciding whether to do something... excessive. In the next ninety seconds or so. Because of an old promise Doc made. Prime--Stella--is talking to her." As they waited, Breakpoint suddenly grinned. "Do you begin to see the problem?" "Oh yeah. Same kind of one I had with Doc. We aren't together anymore because he refused to take the time. Jumping Spider understands the priorities better--she pounced on my idea of a sparring match. And Prime and I owed her a favor for breaking a key link in her lead trail." "Heh. I wasn't sure quite what she-- Okay, danger level just dropped." Yiskah checked in with Prime again and listened. "Yeah," she said to Breakpoint. "Flicker made up her mind. So now I can..." She sent a mental contact request to Jumping Spider. "Hel-lo," came the reply. "Been having fun? Do you like spending time with him?" "Yes. One thing I am sure of now; his difficulty isn't primarily sexual. That was just the context that made the warning clear. What's the real reason you haven't made time to talk?" "I stalled, because if his danger sense went off for a talk before I determined how to deal with the problem, we'd be SOL." "Thought so. I can work with or around his danger sense--but I cannot directly fool it. And neither can you. That includes planning to change his mind about something he'd object to now. If you might succeed--that's dangerous. If it worked any other way, it would leave him vulnerable to manipulation. I'm not sure if that's the driver, but--" A mental sigh. "It's not causing the problem, but if I can't fool him, there's no good way out. So much for fun. Could you check if he's triggered?" Yiskah glanced over at Breakpoint. "Jumping Spider wants to know if your danger sense is going off." He was outwardly calm, but she could sense his tension. "Bad news incoming. Not anything I can do about it." Yiskah switched back to Jumping Spider. "Something wicked this way comes. And it's you. I don't like what I'm picking up of your planning." "Neither do I. He's been a good partner. But he won't stay one if he wrecks himself--and I can't stop that. Don't interrupt, but you'll have to pick up the pieces. Are you ready?" "I am. You're doing a complete break?" "Yes. Fieldwork safety just went away, and a slow amputation is no kindness. I'd let him explain the details at his own pace. I know I don't have the whole picture." "Okay. Any other advice?" "Don't assume. He's too good at hiding things, for the same reason he's so good at undercover work. When he warns you how risky it is to use his weakness detection on people, listen. And be aware that his danger sense is far more of a two-edged sword than most people realize." "I've already seen signs of that. All right." Breakpoint had been waiting patiently. Yiskah met his eyes. "I'm sorry," she said. "About what? You haven't--" He broke off as his phone rang. "Hey." He paused to listen. "Yeah, I kind of figured. We can just go back to--what?" Yiskah watched as the color drained out of his face. "But how are we going to catch--" Another pause to listen. "So you'll be working with DASI?" He stared down at the floor. "I can try the fieldwork on my own, but you're better at tracing leads, so-- Yeah. No. No, I didn't." Breakpoint glanced at Yiskah. "It went fine, but--" More listening. "There's another way. I can alter how I--" He clenched his fist--the first sign of frustration from him Yiskah had ever seen. "It does work. I've done it." His hand relaxed. "Oh." He seemed to deflate and his voice became calm and quiet. "Yes, I understand. It's been a privilege and an honor to work with you. Thank you." A final pause. "You too. Bye." He ended the call and stared down at his phone. Yiskah picked up a short pulse of anger, followed quickly by a pulse from his danger sense, which turned the anger into bleak depression. He put the phone away, moving slowly, then looked up at her wordlessly. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked. He started to open his mouth, then closed it again. Instead of speaking he reached out with his hand and tapped her on the left shoulder. He was in shock--but his reflexes still worked. Yiskah had plenty of questions, but they could wait. She put an arm around her sparring partner, and waited with him.

Next: Part 2

#FallofDocFuture #FallMisc #Maker's Ark

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goldeagleprice · 4 years

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11 Quick Tips for the Liberty Seated Dollar Collector

By Brishen Foley

Editor’s Note: The following article has been reprinted from the E-Gobrecht Newsletter, Vol. 16, Issue 7, with the express permission of the Liberty Seated Collectors Club.

Here are some tips I think would be helpful to people that are contemplating starting a Liberty Seated dollar (LSD) set. They are not in any particular order and can all be equally important. One thing that goes without saying (even though I’m about to say it), join the LSCC! It is an incredible value and has been beneficial to me along the way. Hope these “Eleven Quick Tips” can help some newer collectors avoid some hard lessons and painful tuition.

Buy Coins with Original Surfaces Most people start off buying the cheapest example they can find for each hole in the set. After assembling a handful of these examples you should be able to notice that while they may be straight graded, they certainly are not problem-free. Instead, they were deemed market acceptable. If the cheapest market acceptable coins are what floats your boat then more power to you. But make sure you do not pay a premium for them because you will have a tough time recovering any premium paid. For me, it is much more rewarding to pay more to find a problem-free example that is original and PQ. It may sound easy enough for those who are new to collecting Seated dollars but I can assure you that after years of building this set, it is tougher then you could ever imagine trying to locate PQ examples. I have spent countless hours searching for these rare treasures and with the help of a few great friends and dealers, I have managed a humble 41 of the 43 (minus the 1870s) I originally laid out as my goal. There is no way to get a precise number of surviving examples with original surfaces, but I lean heavily on the CAC population to get a rough idea of the number of original coins for each date. Another way to get an idea of how tough it is to find a nice original Seated dollar is to do a quick, simple search on eBay. I would guess nearly 90 percent of the dollars on eBay have been dipped, cleaned, damaged, or abused at some point in the past. That includes both raw and certified examples. If you are lucky enough to finally find a date you need that is strictly original and PQ… buy it!

Learn to Grade the Series Before You Buy There is an endless amount of knowledge to learn about LSDs. It is fairly easy to find out the basics such as how many coins are in a full date and mintmark set, which year was a proof only issue, and which coins are considered to be a key date. So I won’t bore you with those basic details. Learning to grade is an important part of becoming an expert in the series. You can not rely solely on what the plastic says. There are many dates that suffer from poor strikes and learning how to grade them yourself is essential. I would also strongly suggest getting a grasp of the survival estimates and how rare each particular date is taking into account originality. There are many dates that are considered “common” (if there is such a thing in this series), but I’d bet some of these “common” dates will take years to find a fully original PQ specimen. Once you’ve mastered this, you’ll be able to make a quick decision if you come across a date on your want list.

Buy LSDs that are Slabbed The market is flooded with counterfeit dollars from China. The best way to avoid buying a counterfeit is to purchase dollars that have already been authenticated by the top two grading services. Another benefit when buying certified coins is they are protected from future potential damage. These coins have managed to survive 150 years worth of wars, silver melting, natural disasters, the Great Depression, etc. The least we can do as owners is protect this large heavy silver coin from a rim bump from an accidental fall. Lastly, you’ll have a much easier time finding a buyer for a slabbed Liberty Seated dollar when it comes time to sell. Yes, we have all heard “Buy the Coin, Not the Holder,” however, when it comes time to sell, there is definitely a hierarchy and PCGS CAC approved coins are king followed by NCG CAC approved examples. Then comes a PCGS non CAC coin followed by NGC non CAC. I have bought and sold all of the above, and this has been my experience.

Send Your Coins to CAC for Approval Whether you love them or hate them, CAC has proven itself in this market. There is absolutely no reason not to send your Seated dollars to CAC. The demand for CAC-approved coins is undeniable and is proven through the higher prices realized at auctions time and time again. I can not think of any other series that this approach is more profound. Seated dollars can sell for multiples of price guides’ listed value and in my opinion, they are worth every single penny and in many cases more. Failure to send your coins to CAC simply leaves money on the table when selling choice PQ dollars. Luckily, if you are a collector member of CAC, it means you only pay for coins they actually sticker. A fair deal if you ask me… whether you divest your Seated dollar set yourself or you leave it to your heirs. CAC will ensure the most money possible at the time of sale. Another benefit of handling CAC coins is you can learn a lot about grading and identifying coins with problems. JA is very tough on Liberty Seated dollars and his eye has taught me a lot.

Ensure You Are Not Buying a Mis-Identified Proof Once you’ve narrowed down the field to just strictly original pieces, you’ll be faced with an additional challenge. While building a set of business strike dollars, you will inevitably come across a circulated proof that is identified as a business strike. Research on this topic was almost non-existent until Dick Osburn and Brian Cushing put in the time and effort required to study the dies and published their book “Liberty Seated Dollars, A Register of Die Varieties” in January 2018. This is a must-own for those building a set. This is the only way to identify your coins by OC variety. Some years seem to be plagued by this more than others (hint: 1862.)

Take Time to Choose a Grade Range that is Manageable to Your Budget When I started collecting Liberty Seated dollars, I chose EF-45 as my target grade. I felt it was manageable and offered the best bang for my buck details-wise. I still believe this to be true, but realized quickly that an all EF-45 set of choice original dollars is almost an impossible task. The closest I’ve seen is the Old Chelsea Collection (which can be viewed through the PCGS registry). This set was actually the catalyst for the start of my own Seated dollar set. I can tell you what he has managed to do is absolutely amazing and probably can never be duplicated again. And any attempt to duplicate this feat would have to involve many years of waiting, searching, and a bottomless wallet. My set is falling short of my initial goal and now spans a wider grade range. I’ve found that the grade of the coin is less important than the originality of the coin. So do not get hung up on a single grade. I suggest you open your range up a bit to allow yourself a chance to actually complete this challenging series. I also suggest keeping the grade range as close as possible to avoid a coin looking too out of place.

Meeting Fellow Collectors is a Must! I’ll let you in on a well-known secret… Most choice LSDs never appear on the open market. They sell amongst fellow collectors. I have met a lot of people since I started my set and a few of them have become some of my best friends, not just coin buddies but friendships beyond coins. We buy, sell and trade amongst each other and constantly look out for each other’s want lists. Simply put, I would not have the set I have today without them. This hobby is so much more rewarding when you have friends who are like-minded and who are looking out for each other. If possible, try to have multiple people to bounce things off of. This can help a newer collector identify coins that have problems that may be beyond his knowledge when starting a new collection.

Choose a Mentor Wisely When attempting to put together an original set of business strikes, I highly advise you to gain a mentor who has knowledge of the series and who genuinely has your best interest at heart. Just because a person has knowledge of LSDs doesn’t make them a mentor. One must take the time to properly vet this individual… Ask around, you’d be surprised how small this Seated dollar world is. Any Seated dollar specialist will inevitably have a reputation. In this business, reputation is everything. Some guys have a reputation of being solid as an oak while others will do or say anything to make a buck. Ask the dealers off the record about a potential candidate and their answer should give you a decent feel for the situation. In this hobby, your word is everything. There are guys I’ve never met in person, but have done 5-figure coin deals with nothing more than a phone conversation. Literally, sending coins before payment and vise versa. That is the level of trust I have built with certain LSCC members. Sadly, this is not the case for everyone and this must be learned through experience and word of mouth. Everyone has their own level of trust they are willing to extend, but no matter the level you feel comfortable with, a good mentor is necessary.

The “Time to Buy” is When You See Her Once you have found a choice PQ original example of a date you need and you feel comfortable with the price… it is time to buy! Even the slightest hesitation can turn into you waiting a decade or more before another premium example presents herself in your desired grade range. I have a want list open with several well respected, high integrity dealers and have gotten some incredible coins that way. When they call, you should be able to make a pass or play decision fairly quickly. That is the least you can do to show the dealer you appreciate having a shot at his material. That being said, I’d suggest only purchasing coins that are good enough to have in your set forever. This takes a tremendous amount of patience and willpower which I myself have fallen short of many times. Upgrading constantly can be, or shall I say is, an unnecessary cost in an already expensive series to collect. So try to avoid constant upgrading when possible.

Stay Focused Attempting a Liberty Seated dollar set with this approach will test you in many ways. For one, you’ll have to find these rare gems. Once you’ve found them, you’ll have to have the financial means to complete the purchase. Once you’ve gotten through half the set you’ll find the coins you need are all extremely scarce, and months or even years can go by without finding a coin that is needed towards your set. This downtime can cause a collector to lose focus and spend his or her money elsewhere sometimes moving on to other series or worse another hobby. I would suggest trying to resist the urge although I am actually guilty of this myself and have admittedly started a Trade dollar collection to fill in the time in between Seated dollar purchases. I justify this to myself by the fact that in a second’s notice, I am willing to sell off my Trade dollar set in order to purchase the right Seated dollar.

Take a Few Coins Around to Shows Once you have a small group of Seated dollars in your possession, take a few representatives to a coin show and show them around. You may be surprised at some of the feedback. Ask them what they believe your coins are worth. This will give you a rough idea of how well you did with your purchases. Speaking to dealers that are knowledgeable in the series can be a great educational experience. Once you develop a relationship with these dealers, they will keep in touch as they locate nice examples. They can also look at coins in auctions for you and provide some great feedback from their first hand, in-person inspection of the auction lot. A relationship with a good group of dealers is important and needs to be maintained to get a crack at fresh material coming on to the market.

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