#doesn’t it make logical sense i’d be so worn out doing all those things for this long??
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I’d argue that season 5 crossed over into class betrayal with how they acted in the Lila becomes class president vote scene and how Alya and Nino accused Adrien of lying for Marinette, but season 5 is chock full of inexplicable character choices for me including the CN attempted murders, the extreme Chloe without a shred of nuance, Adrien and Marinette both abandoning hero post without much of a thought after specifically promising each other that they’d stay by the others side against Monarch and never abandon the other, all of the core four but alya being on board to get someone akumatized purposefully for the greater good (I know it’s Gabriel and he sucks bigtine but they don’t know what we know and it’s adriens dad for gods sakes! Cold behavior on their part and his), no one but Zoe speaking up for Marinette when Chloe accuses her despite everyone knowing Chloe’s deal by now, gabriel getting the wish and deciding I’m not gonna bring my wife back actually and Ladybug telling alya and suhan but inexplicably not telling CN Monarchs identity for no logical reason after a season of why that is a bad thing. It seems like the plot the writers want is running the characters, characters be damned. Season 5 has me wanting to just default to earlier season characterization because I have a feeling this is just going to get worse and it’s more exhausting to try to use watsonian thinking to make all of this fit when it just doesn’t
Season 5 had a lot of weird characterization, and Revelation especially made Alya and Nino act in ways I disagreed with, with how dismissive they were of Marinette, and Adrien when he backed her up. Still wouldn't categorize it as a "betrayal" though. The argument there was that Marinette was pretty busy, Lila thought she had a shot at reforming Chloe, and Lila HAD missed the student election, due to joining the class after it occurred, so she never got a chance to run for class representative, and there were only a couple of weeks left in the school year anyway, so it wouldn't matter that much. It wasn't about "punishing" Marinette or trying to hurt her or not appreciating her, it was just giving Lila a shot.
Chat being more trigger-happy with his cataclysm in seasons 4 and 5 does seem to have been intentional, and made some sense when looking at it. Adrien's patience slowly gets worn down in later seasons as his closest relationships become more and more strained - him and Ladybug in season 4, and him and his father in both of those seasons. So he becomes more trigger-happy, more prone to lashing out because of that, especially at anything or anyone who stomps on his triggers or who hurts the people closest to him. Considering how Representation and Conformation had Chat get trapped in a nightmare of the aftermath of an accidental, overblown Cataclysm, becoming scared of his power to the point he didn't dare transform because he feared his powers going out of control in his anger, the earlier incidents where he lashed out and attempted to use Cataclysm recklessly seem to have been set up for that.
Now, going so extreme with Chloe, reverting her back to her season 1 characterization (and then some) while ignoring the bits of nuance we saw in seasons 2 and 3... I didn't like that, and it made it seem like there was a fight in the writer's room about her portrayal. Adrien and Marinette giving up the Miraculous without considering how their partner would react to them also didn't really seem to work.
Everyone but Alya being on board with akumatizing Gabriel did actually work for me, Adrien had conflicting feelings about his dad, Marinette was desperate to do SOMETHING to advance the fight against Monarch, and Nino's always hated Gabriel.
Zoe being the only one to speak up for Marinette with everyone else just standing there... yeah I think that came down to wanting to keep from cluttering the scene with too many people talking at once, and giving Zoe a chance to shine. Very obvious hand of the author in that one, but I do see why it went like that, writing-wise.
Gabriel getting the wish and deciding against using it to revive his wife did have some set-up, with Nathalie specifically bringing up him sacrificing someone else's life to bring Emilie back and him denying it, and all those videos of Emilie saying NOT to revive her. With how far off the deep end he went in season 5 I still don't completely buy him healing Nathalie instead of reviving Emilie, but it did get some decent lead-in.
I'm not completely sure that Marinette DID tell Alya and Su-Han Monarch's identity. It was a little unclear. I could see Marinette keeping that close to her chest to try to minimize the chances that Adrien find out the truth.
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Thoughts after Arrival Sept 2021:
Note: Most of the entries in this Senegal blog are more theme based, but I wanted to capture snippets of my first journaling. It’s easy to think the lovely way things ended up were inevitable, but those first bumbling, unsure steps are where it starts, or doesn’t.
Sept 8th
I’m maybe 50 minutes out from Dakar on the plane. My new life. Watching Soul was a good reminder that life is made up of all the little moments. A surreal airport experience in Mali, between the brightly colored women’s clothing and the infectious disease suits and goggles worn by the Korean and Chinese passengers.
I’m the slightest bit tipsy from the free wine, but probably more so because I slept a collective two hours last night. Hell, even watching Mulan made me weep. Emotions are floating close to the surface.
My first noticing of my Senegalese fellow passengers is how effortlessly woman and men speak to each other compared to Egypt. I can feel this weight lifting off of me, knowing I can actually ask a question or strike up a conversation with a woman without causing a minor diplomatic incident. I think.
I’m here, almost here. It’s really happening, I did it!!! A sabbatical year, or ten months, with my…wife. The past me seems like a different person, the one who set this all up, gifted me with time and space.
Sept 15th, 2021
I’ve been here a week, and mostly I’ve been too tired from surfing to write. That was the plan, was it not? Body tired, cultural entry via sport, and fill in life around the cracks. But now I think a longer entry is warranted, to capture the early thoughts and questions before they drift away. So in no particular order:
Racial dynamics, as might be expected for an American to notice first…not nearly as many stares as Egypt or China. Sidelong glances from children and some of the pre-teen girls, but I think that’s it. They’re used to foreigners? They just don’t care?
One of my social goals -and it feels vulnerable to write this, which probably means it’s good to share- this year is seeing how living in a West African country will help me un program some of the racist American sub-thoughts I’ve been sipping since I was young, from both sides. From the right, poisonous thoughts of “why can’t they just…?”, unbound from the logic of systemic racism and history of intergenerational trauma. From the left poisonous thoughts of being so afraid to be called racist you overcompensate by gushing over how wonderful and accomplished everyone with brown and black skin is, even if they’re being a jerk. Both sides are flattening. I’m hopeful; living and laughing with neighbors in Spain and Chile and Aurora has helped me de-program some of the voices around Latinx bias, ditto with China and Egypt, exposure to messy humanity, and I hope this year will help along the same path.
I’d read James Baldwin when he lived in Paris, but I don’t think I appreciated how the particulars of American racism set my black American friends on guard against white Americans until moving here. There’s an unguardedness that’s all the more surprising since most people first assumed I was French. Sure, there’s anti-French sentiment, and French friends tell stories of being taken to task, but that has to do with nationality, not skin color. Senegalese neighbors are ready for me to be friendly, not to hurt them. Only feeling this do I realize how much I unconsciously position myself to signal safety with voice and tone around black American friends and colleagues. It’s my default, as guardedness is many of theirs. It makes sense considering our country’s history, but it’s not the default here. Unresolved national trauma simmering up at individual levels back home. It makes me at once joyful for what could be and sad for what is.
The town: “lots to do but nothing to see” someone said to me, and it seems like that’s true. The country lives in the people, not the “notable places.” Don’t get me wrong, Ngor beach is picturesque as hell, with the long pirogue boats and everyone playing in the water. Although, though, lots of hastily built structures, only a few paved roads. It’s strange to see even the ritzy houses and restaurants extend their upscale aura only a few feet out for a mosaic welcome ramp or some such before it hits a rutted dirt road again.
And the beach is where the fittest people I’ve ever seen exercise and play. Between women carrying super heavy looking loads on their heads, and the men as a whole looking straight out of men’s health, this might be the healthiest country I’ve ever been in. It’s hard not to gawk at the totally shredded gray-haired man swinging a sledgehammer near Secret Spot.
Also striking; the cost of living for foreigners seems way more expensive than I was expecting, but average salary for Senegalese is still a few hundred dollars a month. Taxis and food in restaurants seem to be main culprits for me right now, but even water bottles and bags are four times more than in Egypt. I guess if Carolyn and I eliminate most of those three -cook our own food, walk or take bicycles, use a water filter- we could bring our costs down dramatically. Still…a part time job might be on the horizon.
It’s so very easy to meet people in English -I’ve chatted up new friends on the beach, in the supermarket…- and so very difficult in French and Wolof. Not impossible, smiles and a familiar face still go a long way, but nothing of substance. The faster I learn French, the faster I can make that transition. Four, five months for conversational? Thinking now that I focus on French, and let the Wolof come in more passively. Well, still asking for phrases, but just doing a little at a time.
Now I still have no permanent home, and no French teacher. I don’t want to make any executive decisions without Carolyn, and it’s a nice excuse to have more time to flesh out more options.
I see the expat bubble tea only speaking English might mean, and I’m not about it. But, until I speak French, I think there’s a middle ground to still befriend cool foreigners who do speak and respect the cultures, knowing that I’m still studying. Yom Kippur gathering tomorrow and Peace Corps times on Friday should be nice opportunities!
I don’t think Yoff will be a bad place to stay with Carolyn, but I also think Ngor Village is far and away the best option for us. One final note; the weather. I thought I’d already put in my time in Egypt for a roiling hot and humid summer, and then I find out there’s potentially another two months of it here in Dakar! Damnit.
For many reasons these first two months will likely be the most challenging. Culture shock, linguistic isolation, social isolation, relationship re-establishing, probably health and body adjustment issues…the list goes on. These first few months are the time to be really kind to ourselves.
Sept 19, 2021
A wild summer storm and now the overcast drizzle, sitting with some feelings. Just a rising sense of panic, I think is the best word, for leaving the surf camp tomorrow and starting my life in the city. What am I afraid of? I have time and savings, and usually you just need one of those. Afraid of the gap between structures? Afraid of trouble with Carolyn here? Afraid that I’ll disappoint myself, maybe, that I won’t be able to pull it off one more time, building a local community, learning the language, making real friends and friendships that last. I feel something relax as I type this, so maybe not as far from the truth.
Sept 20, 2021
I want to remember this evening in a year, when you speak French, and hopefully some Wolof, when you can slip easily into conversations and laughter. That first stomach tightening as you walk into the street at night after delaying the inevitable, descending from your safe rooftop retreat to find food and water. The little kids yelling “Toubab!!” after you in the first 5-10 meters didn’t help. The street was pulsing, everyone out, tailors and stores and foosball tables and peanut sellers and fruit sellers and what might be a restaurant and the biggest fish ever.
The feeling of not wanting to stop anywhere for too long, even though the sand in my right sandal was rubbing a blister raw, not wanting to stop because -wait for it- someone might notice you’re out of place. You glow like a ghost. I think they noticed. But you walked to the end, turned around, and you muddled through. You got a delicious chicken dish. You were briefly the center of attention, and people tried to help. You smiled a lot. You bought water. It was all 3200 CFA, so $6,50, for a chicken dish and three gallons of water, maybe four. Not bad.
But let this be motivation to study, study, study, and apply it right away. Life will change here when you can speak French, and you know this.
October 8, 2021
It’s my one month anniversary of arrival today. My phone credit just ran out. What to think, taking stock. This is the period -not the doldrums because it still feels lovely, but the idea of betwixt- after the honeymoon of new arrival, and the settling in routines of life.
The big pieces are slowly falling into place, though none of them are secure. I have a contract signed for a house but don’t know if it’ll go through. An agreement for a surfboard but don’t know if I’ll like it. Two bikes reserved but haven’t picked them up. French lessons to be started, tentative agreements, but no confirmation. A whole bevy of almosts. And I know they’ll become done deals, or others will take their place, but the overall effect is of a not quite settling in.
French opens the doors of access, acceptance, ease of movement, at least paired with fledgling Wolof. These two weeks without classes have been two weeks too long for me. I’m glad Carolyn is feeling it too.
She’s here, my friend and wife, it’s happening. What feels true is writing that in these first really challenging two months and maybe more, we are still loving and joyful and communicative and that is no small feat. We’re carving out our separate spheres, and those together.
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hi!! may i request some reverse comfort headcanons for diluc, kaeya, childe, and xiao? maybe about relationship insecurity or something of that sort??
relationship flaws and insecurities.
no one is perfect— so what exactly are their flaws in a relationship? and what do they feel most conscious of in a relationship?
featuring diluc, kaeya, childe, xiao
diluc
he feels that he might scare you off with his overprotectiveness. he’s already lost someone before, and he doesn’t think he can handle losing you either.
it’s not that he wants to control your life— in fact, he wants you to live it to its full extent. but there’s always that small worry, an annoying voice, in the back of his head that reminds him that the wilderness of teyvat is dangerous.
subconsciously, he may find himself interrogating you if you plan on leaving the house early in the morning, or late at night. there’ll be times where small quarrels stem from this, and inevitably it can get heated sometimes.
if you walk out on him for more hours than what feels comfortable, to cool off, he might start to think if you’ve left him for good.
diluc’s sitting at the edge of the bed, and there’s a consistent tapping on the floor as he anxiously drums his foot against it. it’s way past his assigned time to sleep, knowing he has to be up early to run his business. he doesn’t have half the mind to check what time it is, at least, not right now. all he can think about is that you’ve been gone for way too long.
he expects this from the two of you, especially after a heated argument. you two take the time away from one another to cool off and collect your thoughts, but this? this is just outrageous. if he were to give an estimate for how long you’d been gone— it would be two hours longer than you’d typically be gone for. and this just feeds into his worries from earlier, about your well-being.
the whole fight was about you and your safety after all. you would tell him that you’re fully capable of looking out for yourself; he’d say that he has enemies who may come after you; it goes back-and-forth. sensing that the argument was getting nowhere, you took it upon yourself to see yourself out first. “let’s just,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “let’s just take time to cool off for a bit, shall we?”
“it’s been longer than a bit,” he mutters to himself.
he’s snapped out his thoughts as he hears the bedroom doors open slowly. you peek your head in, just to make eye contact with diluc. you two freeze, simply caught off-guard in the moment. he notes how your hair is a mess— it sticks out in certain areas, and obviously has not been brushed down— and you look a bit rugged. “hey,” you mutter sheepishly.
he wonders if he should ask you where you’ve been, but he holds his tongue. “are you okay?” diluc asks instead, and there’s a certain tenderness in his voice as he addresses you. “you look a bit... rough.”
you snort, throwing a feign hand of offense over your chest, at his words. “gee, thanks. nice to know i’m looking very appealing right now.” you joke. he stares at you, but you can see the faint smile on his lips at the way you’re joking around already. it’s good to know that you two are still okay. “but to answer your question, yes. i simply tripped over a pebble— it was so dark out and my foot got caught. who would’ve known that a pebble would be the one to take me down.”
he laughs at this, and you feel the tension from the argument completely lift.
kaeya
he’ll often wonder if you’re slowly becoming untrusting of him. he’s generally reserved, and quite mysterious— and it could easily be read in the wrong way.
kaeya knows that a relationship is all about communication and trust, well, for it to be healthy at least. and for the most part, he’s pretty open with you.
but there’s still certain aspects of his life that keeps in the dark from you. from his unknown past, to the business he does out of the knight of favonius— he likes that you look up to him as a respectable knight.
sometimes, you’ll ask him why he has duties to attend to at the dead of night, to which he reassuringly tells you that he’s simply off to bother diluc at the tavern. but he knows you’re catching on— diluc hasn’t seen him in the tavern for quite a bit.
“i know you haven’t been at the tavern.” you finally speak up, and you keep your eyes trained on the plate of food in front of you. you dig at the food, poking it around with your utensils— anything to keep your mind off of the fact that your heart is slightly racing right now. you don’t mean to be confrontational, but to be frank, you’re fed up that kaeya hasn’t been honest with you. “you can say that it came as a surprise to me when diluc said you hadn’t been there for a while now.”
“i guess it was only a matter of time before you’d ask diluc about me, and my whereabouts.” he sighs. he’s leaned into his chair by now, and he’s looking at you. your lips are locked into a tight line, a little peeved at the way he still talks so smoothly, and treats this so casually. as if he weren’t taking this seriously, and that this was just some other conversation to him. “i’m simply handling nightly duties.”
your grip becomes slightly tighter around your utensils, and he notices; your knuckles are turning slightly white, and your breathing is slightly out of pace. there’s a small change in his expression, and you can see the way his eyes narrow slightly.
“does it hurt to be honest to me about these things?” you ask him, genuinely hurt at the way it feels like he doesn’t trust you enough. “as your significant other, i guess i’d expected you to be more open to me. i’ve already told you countless times that no matter what, i’ll stick around— and even right now, i mean those words.”
once i tell, there’s no going back, is what he wishes to say. that it’ll be hard to look at someone the same way you’ve done before. “look,” he says as he sighs. kaeya wracks his mind for a way to respond— in a way where he wouldn’t be lying, but he wouldn’t subject you to danger either. “these matters, my nightly duties if you will, are matters between the abyss order and i. i’m afraid that if i tell you anything more about what goes on, you’ll become a target as well. too much knowledge can be harmful.”
“and you couldn’t just tell me that from the get-go?” it’s a fair point, and he throws you an apologetic look from across the table. “i understand, okay? just,” you swipe a hand through your hair. “no more secrets. i don’t think i’ll be as understanding if there’s a next time.”
“of course, my love.”
childe
he fears that one day, he’ll come home and you won’t be there anymore; his involvement with the fatui doesn’t make it any better.
the fatui is known for... it’s notorious deeds, to put it lightly. he had warned you beforehand, that dating a fatui harbinger will be exhausting. mentally, that is.
he’s bloodthirsty and thrill-seeking— it’s his nature. but he knows you don’t agree with the brutal ways the fatui handles their business, and he tries his best to take your mind off of it.
but it’s hard to ignore the words that circulate around liyue about certain things that he’s been up to. childe wonders that if you’ll get fed up one day, and just leave him.
there’s always a small amount of anxiety that bubbles up within childe whenever he approaches the doors of your shared bedroom. there’s that slightly irrational fear that he’ll walk in, and the room will be empty; you won’t be beneath the sheets in deep sleep, and your small breaths wouldn’t fill the room. his hand is hovering over the doorknob, and he almost laughs. a man like him, who stares death in its eyes, too afraid to open the door in fear that he’ll see something he doesn’t like.
childe gathers the courage to twist the knob, and the door creaks softly as he pushes it open. he pauses halfway, the fear taking over him for a second, but pushes through. he lets out an audible breath of relief— seeing you alive and well in front of him, and the comforts of just seeing that. his shoulders slack visibly at the confirmation, and he allows himself to enter the room.
he strips himself of clothes that he’s worn outside, changing into ones more fitting for bed. he’d jump straight into your arms if he could— but he knows that even in a sleepy state, you would still scold him.
he stalks towards the bed after doing the necessities. you stir at the way the bed dips beside you, feeling a pair of strong arms wrap around you. “childe?” you mutter. your voice is laced with sleepiness having just awoken, and you’re rubbing at your eyes as you turn to face him. it takes a second for your brain to start functioning, and you blurt out the first word that comes to mind. “hi.”
“hi to you too,” he mirrors, a small smile gracing his lips. your eyes are barely open as you glance at him, and your words are slightly slurred— but despite that, he truly thinks he’s the luckiest man in the world that he has someone as good as you. someone who sticks around, despite his affiliation. “i’ve missed you a lot, y’know.” he says.
“i missed you more,” you challenge, even in your sleep driven state.
he chuckles at you, before pressing a small kiss to your nose. “sure, sure. let’s fight about who misses each other more in the morning, okay?”
xiao
he’ll often doubt why you’re with him— and wonder if there’ll ever be a day where you run out of patience with him.
he’s getting better with affection, and he’s not finding it as weird as he had before. he doesn’t initiate things, still too embarrassed about the last time he failed to hug you. he wants things to be intimate, but there are still times where he flinches if you touch his hand or hug him, after forgetting to give him a heads up.
you always smile at him, and tell him that you care for his comfort the most. he can see the pain behind your smile though— almost a year of dating and he still hasn’t warmed up to you.
xiao still doesn’t fully understand the logic and need behind affection. but what he does know is that humans seek affection. they are social beings after all. knowing that, he worries that you’ll eventually want someone else who can give you the affection that you deserve.
“i’m sorry,” xiao apologizes in a panic. he was so thrown off-guard and so deep in his thought, that when you’d given him a back hug, he had reacted more violently than intended. thus, he had instinctively pushed you off his shoulder. it was hard to miss the flash of hurt in your eyes as you stumbled back, a little baffled, not expecting xiao to react in a such a way. “i... i apologize for that, y/n.”
it’s easy to notice the literal distance between you two and he reaches out for you, to which he stops himself midway. there’s just something that feels so wrong about touching you right now, especially after he’d just shoved you— it doesn’t feel right. even to now, he’s still scared of touching you. he finds himself getting frustrated at the way that he just can’t wrap his head around doing things in a romantic aspect. even he’s running out of patience with himself, so why do you still have so much?
you notice the way his hand stops, and you can see the countless of emotions within his eyes as he stares at his hands. there’s little glimpses of worry, of self-doubt, and you can tell right now that he’s being critical of himself. you don’t blame him for reacting that way, now that you look back on it in hindsight. anyone would’ve reacted like that as a form of self-defense.
“it’s alright, xiao, it really is.” you reassure him. “don’t be too harsh on yourself, okay? i said we’d take it as slow as we have to, and i plan on keeping my word for that. now... may i?” you gesture to his outstretched hand. he gives you a blank look at first, but nods slowly.
you take his hands in yours— you take your time to link your fingers, intertwining them and appreciating the way they mold together perfectly. you let him feel the way you draw soothing circles on the back of his hand. it’s such a simple action, but it flows with intimacy, and it has a weird feeling erupting in his stomach. (butterflies, he recalls you telling him.)
“see this?” you raise your linked hands. “if this is what you’re comfortable with at the moment, then i’m more than willing to hold hands for as long as you want.”
he wonders if you’ll grow impatient with him— but for now, he’s reassured you’ll stick around.
author’s note.
i’ve put this off for so long, and i intended on keeping it short— but then i felt bad and so i decided to indulge just a little
#genshin impact#genshin impact fluff#genshin impact angst#genshin diluc#genshin xiao#genshin kaeya#genshin childe#kaeya x reader#childe x reader#diluc x reader#xiao x reader#genshin impact x reader
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49%
Title: 49%
Summary: If there’s one thing that Spencer hates more than rejection, it’s spontaneity. But sometimes the things (and people) we love outweigh the things that we hate. AKA a series of events leading up to a weekend wedding between the BAU’s finest Dr. Spencer Reid and his partner in crime, Y/N.
Word Count: 1365
Warnings: none
Author’s Note: I hope that you enjoy reading this! I really appreciate all of the support and kind words :)
49%
Spencer Reid is terrified. Nothing could compare for the pure fear that courses through his veins in this moment. Not even the times he’d run into hostage situations without wearing a Kevlar vest or even in the most lonely parts of his life. He figures that he’s terrified because he has so much to lose. Never in his life did he have someone that loves him as much as Y/N does. And that terrifies him. Somehow, when Spencer is with Y/N he’s simultaneously a man numb with love and a little boy shaking with fear. He knows that he should have gotten over this fear of rejection years ago. He knows that Y/N would never intentionally hurt him. He knows that she loves him more than anything.
So why? Why is he so terrified to ask her to marry him? Logically, there’s no reason for her to say no. They’ve been together for 3 years, which is long enough at their age to enter into an engagement. It’s not like she doesn’t want to get married; he’s seen her Pinterest wedding moodboard. She talks about their children, almost like they're already here. She wants to get married and she wants to have kids, but the question that bounces around in Spencer’s mind is does she want that with him?
“Next!” the barista calls Spencer forward to the counter to order.
“Hi, I’ll have an extra large black coffee with 6 Splendas, and uh, a large iced green tea with honey,” Spencer orders, pulling out his credit card to pay for the drinks. Coffee is probably not the wisest choice, but what can Spencer say the heart wants what the heart wants.
Spencer awkwardly waits for his drinks, trying to ignore the small box that burns a whole in his pocket. He’d bought the ring a couple of months ago, right after a case that both of them almost didn’t come home, or worse almost came home in a casket.
“Two drinks for Spencer!” a barista from behind the counter calls, telling him that his drinks are ready. Spencer takes a sip of his coffee, the sweet liquid burning his tongue. Taking a look at the time on his watch, Spencer decides that it’s time to head to the park.
It’s a short walk to the park, but it seems like it’s the longest walk of his life. Maybe if he wasn’t so nervous or terrified, he'd be able to enjoy how beautiful was. Spencer might be a complete ball of nerves, but he’s a romantic at heart. He wants this to be a perfect start to their perfect life. He finds the park bench that he told Y/N to meet him at. He sits there, waiting for her to show up and waiting for their life to start.
Spencer’s leg bounces up and down. He should have worn a different pair of shoes. These Converse are so old and ratty, he thinks. He thinks he looks ridiculous in his cardigan and corduroy pants, what was he thinking? He can’t actually expect that she’s going to yes to him.
While his thoughts are occupied by the constant inner commentary of rejection and ridicule, he fails to her the leaves crunch behind him. His vision goes black when his eyes are covered by a pair of familiar feeling hands. Y/N’s laugh gives it away instantly, but Spencer’s constant vigilance does cause him to yelp in a high pitched squeal.
“Spencer! It’s me honey,” Y/N says, wrapping her arms around his neck and peppering his cheek with quick kisses. It’s the kind of kisses that say “I’m happy to see you” and “You’re the only one I want to see”. It’s at times like these that he doubts his doubts; maybe he can have faith and hope and lean into the romantic side of himself. The side of himself that sees them walking in the park with a baby stroller, playing on the playset with their children, teaching their kids how to drive in the parking lot and sitting on this bench when their backs hurt all the time and their faces have a few more wrinkles.
“I’d know that laugh anywhere, Y/N” Spencer says, watching her move to sit next to him on the bench.
“Ohh, thanks for the iced tea!” She says, taking a sip of the cold drink. Even though it’s barely winter, Spencer still can’t believe that she can drink iced beverages in any kind of weather below 50 degrees. He nods and kisses her on her cheek, which causes a small giggle to emerge. Spencer is still kind of surprised that his affections can elicit such happy responses from her.
“So,” Y/N starts. “Why did you leave our house at 7:00 AM and text me to meet you here?”
“Umm,” Spencer says, the nerves bubbling to the surface. You can do this, Spencer, he thinks. You can do this, she’s not going to say no. She can’t say no. At this moment, Spencer is really wishing he had his passport with him and a getaway car to jump in, just in case Y/N says no.
“Did you know that only 3% of weddings happen in a courthouse?” Y/N asks at a completely stunned Spencer.
“Yeah,” Spencer says timidly, not entirely sure where this is panning out, but grateful to listen to his girlfriend. It beats the alternative, him saying something stupid and her laughing at him; him fleeing the state and ending up a magician in a Las Vegas casino.
“Yes, courthouse weddings are a great alternative, they’re affordable and efficient for couples who just want to get married without all that fuss,” Y/N adds, looking at Spencer.
She’s profiling you, Spencer thinks. Don’t make eye contact. He knows (and she knows) that the moment he looks into her eyes, he’s done for. Las Vegas here he comes….
“And 51% of marriages end in divorce,” Spencer tells her, before he can even think about what he’s saying. Great he thinks, the day that he’s supposed to propose to her, he’s talking about divorce statistics.
“You know that I failed statistics in college, Spence?” Y/N asks him.
“I think I remember you mentioning that,” Spencer says, now thoroughly confused as to where this is going.
“I have an evil plan to seek revenge against statistics, so I think that it’s my life mission to prove them wrong,” Y/N finishes, pulling something out from her bag.
Spencer can feel his heart beating in his chest. He’s even more terrified than he was before. Suddenly all those songs that Y/N made him dance to late in the middle of the night make complete sense.
“But, I also think that it’s my life mission to spend the rest of my life with you, Spence. So, I know that it’s not alway the case for the girl to propose marriage, but I think that you deserve someone to propose to you,” Y/N says, very quickly.
Spencer sits there on the bench with Y/N sitting right next to him, utterly speechless. Did she just….
“You want to marry me?” Spencer says, dumbly.
“Of course I do, Spencer! Give me your hand, I got you an engagement ring and-”
Spencer, suddenly fearless, cups her face in his hands, effectively making her quiet. He works on the surge of confidence, leaning in and kisses Y/N on the lips. It’s like he’s kissing her for the first time in his life. It’s like his first kiss ever, but it’s the first kiss of all the kisses of the rest of their life.
“So I’ll take that as a yes,” Y/N says, breaking apart from Spencer.
Spencer lets out a laugh, completely forgetting why on Earth he was so scared to propose.
“So you’re not the only one who had this idea, Y/N” Spencer tells her, reaching into his cardigan pocket. He hands her the velvet box and reveals the vintage ring that he picked out from the second hand jewelry store.
“Spencer? Is this why you told me to come here? Oh God, I ruined your proposal!” Y/N says, embarrassed that she messed with Spencer’s plans, knowing how nervous he can get.
“On the contrary Y/N, I’m sure that this is the best possible proposal,” Spencer tells her, as she lays her head against his shoulder.
“Spencer,” Y/N says, suddenly serious.
“Yes, fiance?” Spencer teases.
“How would you like to be in the 3% of marriages? Like as soon as possible. Like tomorrow? I don’t think I can wait another second not being married to you,” she confesses.
“As long as we’re in the 49%, I’ll do anything you want.”
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fic#criminal minds fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid deserved a happy ending#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds self insert#criminal minds#spencer reid x y/n fluff#spencer reid gets a happy ending#mgg
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Icy Wind. Yan Alucard x Reader
Warnings: Isolation and typical yandere elements.
Word count: 1.3k.
Note: this is my secret santa gift for @monstrouslyobsessed!! i was excited to see that you liked hellsing ultimate... your taste is immaculate... anyways, i really hope that you enjoy your gift! <333333
You long for a fulfilling night of sleep.
To be able and close your eyes when the moon shines above, uninhibited by troubles, no longer plagued by all-consuming anxiety. It is but a simple request, you believe. There were days where for hours on end you’d bargain for more than that. Freedom used to be the primary objective, what you believed to be your only salvation, a possibility never within reach. No longer do you aim for the stars and beyond. You’ve had to settle for what’s in front of you, a realistic goal such as a good night’s rest, and even then you’re denied it.
Blades of grass brush against your bare feet, a winter chill reducing your body to a shivering mess. Teeth chattering and body bunched over, your arms wrap around your torso in a pitiful attempt to preserve heat. It makes logical sense to return inside the manor. At least then you could sit by the fireplace to ward off the cold. Whether it’s foolishness or out of malice towards him, you’ve elected to stay out here, holding nothing but contempt for the mansion walls that serve as your prison.
Another gust of wind whistles by, biting your flushed cheeks. Barren tree branches, overgrown thickets, and dry leaves rustle underneath the wind’s intensity. Maybe it would be best to go back inside, you consider. Still, the thought of proving Alucard right is too strong a blow to your pride to concede yet. It’s a childish thing you’re doing -- even you can acknowledge that -- but what else do you have, other than to spite your captor?
He had instigated this. Tempting you by temporarily removing the locks in the rickety mansion that you’ve been forced to occupy. What had started as a late-night walk to fend off your insomnia escalated into you confronting him, belittling his possessive nature, and demanding a real opportunity at freedom. Much to your surprise and his amusement, he had relented. Or at least on a surface level. Alucard himself had swung the doors wide open, presenting you with an opportunity for time outside.
Which leads to your current predicament.
Traversing the surrounding woods at night would be a nightmare, so you’ve been passing this time outside by sitting on a moss-covered bench. The initial high from being outdoors has worn off, replaced with frigid temperatures cutting deep into your bones. You wonder if Alucard would allow you to freeze to death. Or would he intervene at the least possible second, the curse of being his lover never coming to an end. Damn him.
“So you intend to keep up this stubborn act,” a deep voice drawls, the hairs on the back of your neck standing. “Should I be impressed or insulted?”
When a person out of sight is speaking, it’s a natural response to search for where they stand. You’ve learned that this rarely works with Alucard. His voice reverberates from every conceivable location, engulfing and drowning you, a testament to his inorganic disposition.
“Do with it what you will.” Your response doesn’t sound as malicious as you wanted, weakened by your deteriorating state. It looks like your earlier guess of Alucard interfering only when your life is in danger turned out to be true. Even now, when facing an icy demise, you refuse to beg for help. He can go to hell for all I care, you think. If even hell would muster the courage to try and chain him down.
Alucard’s voice hums, a deep, guttural sound. “Was it something I said?”
Clutching your knees to your chest, you huddle together even tighter for warmth. To narrow Alucard’s grievances against you down to a single statement is impossible. He’s always had a penchant for working you up, now is no different. The wintery weather seems to have gotten worse. Every time you manage to exhale, a white cloud appears in front of your face, a further testament to the extreme temperature.
“Let’s go with that.” You rub your shaking hands together and blow air onto them.
“Strange, I thought I was doing you a favor,” Alucard’s voice swirls around you like the wind. “You did say that you wanted to go out if memory serves.”
Really? He’s out here to poke fun at you? It shouldn’t come as a surprise, but the audacity he displays is never short of amazing. Even working up an emotional response like frustration is too much at this point. Your entire body is working overtime to hold onto life. Ah, that’s strange, you think. The way your ears are ringing, an eerie, high pitched noise. Black dots appear and disappear, obscuring your vision. It’s light. Everything feels so, terribly light.
You’re not sure what happens next.
When you wake, the setting is vastly different from where you had just been. There’s warmth, that’s the first thing you notice, coming from different sources. Blankets on top of your person and a roaring fireplace. So he brought you back to your room. Groaning, you wince at how your head pounds violently, not having the necessary strength to even lift your head.
“Next time, I’d prefer it if you let me die.”
There’s no tangible evidence that Alucard is nearby, but you still say the words, uncaring if he hears them or not.
“It’d be a pitiful death,” comes his response. “Why not ask for a more memorable one?”
You sigh, knowing that answering the question will lead to more provocative remarks, but still do it anyway. “Are you telling me you’d grant it?”
“I never said that.”
“Figures.”
Exhaustion weighs heavy on your weary soul. Maybe now you’ll be granted the mercy of a good night’s rest, though you try not to get your hopes up. You see Alucard beginning to materialize into a physical form, the sight nothing new, yet you’ve never been able to get used to it. Glimmers of midnight black and deep crimson create a shadow reminiscent of a human man. Flesh forms, filling out over bone, pallid in its coloration. His typical attire of blood-colored fabrics flows into creation around his person before he finally towers over you by your bedside. Inhuman eyes pierce through your weakened form, holding no flickers of humanity.
A monster.
“And here I thought you might thank your savior for saving you from an early death,” Alucard’s voice is amused, despite the dark context. “Instead, I find you glaring at me.”
“For good reason.” You bring the blanket over your head, not wanting to see him any longer, irritation growing. Why can’t he just leave you alone? It’s a question that, when asked, serves only to perturb you further. Alucard claims each time that your little interactions are of great importance to him. Whatever that means, you think.
“You’re the only human I’ve seen fit to have pity on,” he reminds, making you frown. “Thousands have begged for what you so easily dismiss.”
Indignant, you pull the blanket down, blood boiling at his inflaming comments. “Like any of that is my fault. What did you expect me to do? Praise you to the high heavens for keeping me far away from any other living being?”
He’s smiling at your outburst as if it were an entertaining show. It’s too late, but you realize this is exactly what he wanted, to see you getting all worked up over his purposefully upsetting words. Sighing in defeat, you lay back down on the mattress and squeeze your eyes shut, fully intending to ignore anything else he sees fit to say. If he wants to play dirty, then so be it.
Alucard reaches his gloved hand out to your face, brushing his knuckles against your cheek, displaying a gentleness you thought impossible from a demon like him. It’s a featherlight touch that leaves goosebumps in its wake. Almost as if your body was attempting to reject it, aware of the heinous crimes those very hands have committed.
“Rest well, my sweet little [First].”
#Alucard#Hellsing Alucard#alucard x reader#yandere alucard#hellsing ultimate#hellsing ultimate imagines#yandere alucard hellsing#hellsing#yandere#yandere x reader#my stuff
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Bloodshot
Brown eyes stare into the void.
And the void stares right back.
Pitch-black and dark.
Dark, darker, and yet darker.
Vaguely, he registers liquid inside his mouth. His lungs. His chest. A part of his brain that's still working whispers that he's choking. Weird. He thought it would hurt more than this. Thought there would be more panic and flailing. Desperation to breathe.
Instead, all he feels is calm.
There's a sense of peace that instills in his body. Fills every crevice, nook, and cranny inside his flesh. Inside his bones.
Yes, he's dying, but he's accepted this as an immutable fact.
What use is there for panic when the croon of Miss Death is already so sweet in his ear? Why should he flail and claw to a life filled with heartache and pain, when instead he could stay in this calm embrace forever?
He's dying, and he's fine with this.
At first, he thinks he might be at the quarry. It would make sense. Maybe he was too drunk, tripped, and slipped off the ledge. Those kinds of things tend to happen to lonely people like him. Maybe others will think he jumped, instead. That's fine too.
But the liquid in his mouth tastes salty and coppery. A little too thick to be water.
Oh. Right.
Blood. He was choking on his own blood.
Things are coming back to him in slow increments. Flashes of scenes. He understands now where he is.
Or was.
Time is confusing when you're dying.
They had been in the tunnels. The demodogs had been close at their heels and the entrance just a few feet away. He had been so scared, utterly terrified, but not for himself. Never for himself. He needed to get the kids out first, all of them.
And he had.
Too bad it had been just a second too late for him.
Just as he was about to reach for the rope, a strong body had crashed into him and he had fallen on his back. Pain had jolted through his nerves as claws dug themselves into the skin of his chest. He remembers being vaguely concerned about the wetness spreading in his chest before that maw had bloomed into the most horrifying of flowers, and the petals wrapped themselves around his neck.
He thinks Dustin might've screamed. Steve felt bad that the kid had to see him like that.
But now the pain was no more and he was suspended in the void. Calm. Serene. Accepting.
Death was peaceful.
Until it wasn't.
---
The thing that crawled out of the earth, a whole week after the gate was closed, was not Steve Harrington.
At least not anymore.
Not in a way that mattered.
He still looked the same. Sounded the same. Moved the same. Felt the same.
He could think, and like, and long for things the same way he could when he had been alive.
But his mind was never quiet these days.
Hunt. Feed. Claw. Rip.
Blood.
A never-ending loop of words strung together until they sounded unrecognizable until they no longer made sense. And yet the feelings that came with the words would never go away.
Not when he started cooking his meat less and less to the point he resorted to just shoveling spoonfuls of raw hamburger meat into his mouth.
Not when he passed by the rotting corpse of a deer in the woods and had to take a moment to wipe the drool off his chin because for some reason the scent was appetizing.
Not when he gave in and hooked up with Nina Collins, and she let him bite her neck until he drew blood.
They never went away. Neither did the gnawing hunger inside of him.
And Steve could only be so dumb. He knew perfectly well what it was the voice in his head wanted. Could recognize it in the way his dreams had been filled with spiked bats hitting skin, breaking bones, and hands burying themselves in a mess of blood and guts.
He only wondered for how much longer he could hold himself back.
The answer came to him less than a week later.
---
First thing he notices when he wakes up, is that the hunger is blessedly gone.
For a single moment, he's glad. Happy and relieved. Until realization settles in and horror fills his chest.
Second thing he notices is that he's naked, sitting in a puddle of blood. The scent is strong.
And appetizing.
It makes him curl up onto his side and retch, but thankfully nothing comes up.
Quiet breathing is what clues him on the third thing. It also freezes him in place.
Somebody is looking at him. Saw what he did. Who he is. What he is.
Fuck.
Then they speak.
Double fuck.
"I knew you were fucked up, Harrington. Didn't think you were this fucked up though."
It's not the words that make him turn, eyes open wide. It's the voice. Because he knows that voice. Because it's Billy Hargrove's voice.
Ain't that just nice?
With the hunger and the voices gone, at least for the time being, it's much easier to try and recall the events of the night before. Steve almost wishes he couldn't though, because what he experiences -- not sees because those creatures don't have eyes -- is so repulsive that he can feel nausea clawing up his throat again.
"I killed your dad."
It's a fact, not a question. He doesn't need confirmation, his memories of the event are clear albeit fuzzy.
"And ate him. Yeah."
The fact that Hargrove doesn't sound horrified, or scared in the slightest, confuses Steve. He forces himself to ignore the panic, the nausea, and the embarrassment warring for his immediate attention and instead focuses on Hargrove's face.
Hargrove meets his gaze unflinchingly.
There's not a single ounce of remorse in those blue eyes but then again, why would there be?
After all, the bruises and cuts that litter his face and naked chest, speak enough about the type of man Neil Hargrove was.
"I did not... hurt you, right?"
Steve doesn't remember having approached Hargrove. The demodog hadn't wanted to hurt Hargrove, like at all. Still, he has to make sure. Just to put his mind at ease, of course. Not because he's worried about Hargrove or anything.
Hargrove shakes his head, frowning. The bruises must hurt pretty bad though because he winces. "You don't remember?"
"The memories are... fuzzy." Steve grimaces, pushing down another bout of nausea that threatens to overwhelm him. "It's not- I'm not- I know what it looks like but I'm not that thing, okay? The dog- That's not me."
"And yet I watched that thing morph back into you. You are still lying in a pool of blood, you know?" He sounds unimpressed. Slightly annoyed too. "You just said you have memories of it. I'd say that counts as you being that thing, Harrington."
Yeah, okay. Steve can't really counter that logic. Doesn't help lessen the knot of guilt that sits heavy at the pit of his stomach, though.
"Fine. Okay. Yes. I just-" But the words die on his tongue because he's not sure how to even finish that sentence. He's just what? Horrified? Guilty? Considering taking a dive off the quarry or meet the bad end of Nancy's shotgun?
Hargrove must have read the indecisiveness on his expression because he huffs, crossing his arms. He winces again and Steve’s almost tempted to demand he take it easy.
"Here's what we are going to do, Harrington." His voice has an unexpected strength to it that commands all of Steve’s attention. “You're going to take a shower, borrow some clothes, then I'm going to clean off all this blood before Max and Susan get back, and then we're going to talk about Neil’s sudden disappearance. Understood?”
“Uh...”
Hargrove was... helping him. He was helping him cover up a murder. The murder of his own father. Hargrove watched as the demodog fucking ate his dad, morphed back into Steve, and now he was helping him.
Steve wasn't sure how he was feeling about this but grateful and confused came pretty close to explaining it.
“I asked if you understood, Harrington.”
“Yeah I uh, yeah. I understand.”
So that's how he found himself in Hargrove's kitchen half an hour later, clad in grey sweatpants and an AC/DC shirt that had seen better days. Hargrove sat in front of him, idly eating from a bowl of Lucky charms, his gaze not straying far from Steve.
The clank of the spoon as it fell back into the empty bowl was jarringly loud in the awkward silence.
"You really don't remember what happened last night, then?"
His gut reaction was to say no. He didn't remember anything. That the memories were fuzzy and the thing wasn't him. But that would be lying, wouldn't it?
And he had to admit that being able to share this secret with somebody else, even if it was Billy Hargrove of all people, felt like a much-needed reprieve of all the bullshit life had been throwing at him lately.
"I do but as I said, it's fuzzy. Fragmented, I guess?" He looks down at the table, drumming his fingers on the worn tabletop. "This thing, it doesn't see things as we do. Doesn't have eyes."
Hargrove hums, and Steve can see the way he leans back on the chair. Feels those eyes on him, not moving. It should set him on edge but instead, it makes him feel grounded. Like this is the first time, since he crawled out of the earth that somebody bothers to truly look at him.
It makes him want to look up and meet that gaze.
So that's exactly what he does.
"It was you that I- that the demodog was hunting, not your dad." Steve is glad he doesn't look away because it allows him to see the shadow of regret that crosses those blue eyes. "But then I- it jumped through the window. Saw what was happening. So the prey changed."
"And you have lived with this thing for how long?"
"Technically speaking, I'm not alive. Haven't been since that night in November, a little after the whole thing at the Byers."
Hargrove blinks, taken aback by what must surely sound like nonsense considering Steve was sitting across from him, breathing and talking. He's not sure how to explain it either but he knows with unwavering certainty that he's not alive anymore.
Not like he should be.
Not completely.
Liminal spaces. Whatever. Fuck.
"One of those things bit me. Dustin saw it happen too. Or at least saw the blood. And I remember dying." He shrugs, drums his fingers again just to have something to do. Restlessness eats at him but he's still under Hargrove's gaze and the itch to run has settled for now. "A week later I apparently dug my way out of the earth and Hopper found me at the junkyard. I can't remember it at all."
The marred skin of his throat is evidence enough. These days he does his best to cover it up with makeup or turtlenecks, not wishing to deal with the unwanted questions that would undoubtedly come. Not to mention that Dustin can't see it without tearing up. Kid still has nightmares about Steve covered in blood with his throat ripped out.
"Shit, Harrington." Hargrove tangles a hand in his blond curls, pulling lightly on the strands. As if the pinpricks of pain could reassure him about all this being real. "This is what you and those snot-nosed brats were up to that night? Fighting these things? Are you insane?"
"Only a little." The self-deprecating grin that accompanied it really sold it.
Steve watched as Hargrove's hands formed into fists, a dangerous sort of fire lighting up in his eyes. It lasted for a second or two before the fight left his body in a rush, body slumping slightly into the chair. It was a little impressive.
"What even are these things?"
The thing is, Steve's not even sure what those creatures are. He says as much and spends the next fifteen minutes explaining what he knows -- and what he's theorized -- about Will Byers, the Upside Down, the Mindflayer, and Hawkins Lab. Surprisingly enough, Hargrove listens through it all without commentary.
"Nobody understood how I was alive but I didn't want to question it too much. Guess I already knew something was wrong with me but I didn't want to see it."
Hargrove's eyes have drifted down to his empty cereal bowl but it doesn't seem like he's really looking at it. After a moment, he nods. "Okay so what now, Harrington?"
Steve's taken aback by the question, not understanding what Hargrove is getting at. "What do you mean what now?"
If looks could kill, he's sure that he would be dead again. Hargrove heaves an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before facing Steve.
"Harrington, I knew you were an idiot but this is too much even for you." Steve makes a sound of protest but Hargrove throws him a look and he goes quiet again. "The demodog needs to eat people to live, meaning you need to eat people to live. So tell me, what are you going to do about that?"
"Oh."
Well fuck.
#WIPS#bloodshot au#stranger things#steve harrington#billy hargrove#harringrove#this kinda got out of hand but i kinda wondered if maybe this idea worked for a fic#possibly#idk feedback is appreciated lol
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Of crocodiles and rings and a possible connection to a teased weakness
Crocodile is a guy that is real extra and dresses sharp and loves his bling bling, right? He’s a man of high standards, so of course, he’s gotta wear bling to show that. Other bling loving characters are Capone Bege and Blackbeard for example. All three of them like to show off that bling. Now why do I mention the other two? Coz look at these three bling loving gentlemen, wearing rings on every finger and tell me where the difference lies. I’ll wait.
Exactly!
As opposed to Bege and Blackbeard, Crocodile doesn’t wear a ring on every finger. Obviously he cannot wear 10 rings coz he only got one hand with 5 fingers but he also never wears 5 rings. No, no. This guy, ladies and gentlemen, kinda makes it a point to always leave out one finger and that’s the ring finger. Ha- interesting.
Now, of course this could be mere coincidence. But let’s be realistic here, it’s Oda. He clearly has a reason for it as he’s been true to this detail ever since Crocodile was introduced over a decade ago and the only real question is ‘why’?
Why would Crocodile do that? He clearly loves wearing rings so why not wear them on every finger? Why leave out the ring finger for crying out loud? If one wanted to leave a finger without a ring, one would probably leave out the pinky or the thumb but who puts rings on every finger and leaves out the ring finger? I tell you who.
Crocodile. That’s who.
If you’re one who believes in symbolism and all that stuff, then you’d probably find it interesting that the ring finger symbolises releationships with others especially romantical ones as it is seen closest to the heart and therefore or because of it is the finger a wedding ring is worn on. In most cultures the engagement ring is worn on the right hand and the wedding ring on the left as the right hand is often the ‘physical’ one and has a greater visibility. It’s probably interesting to note that the left hand is considered to represent your character and beliefs. Ha. Interesting that Crocodile is missing that one, huh? Anyhow, in Crocodile’s case left or right hand doesn’t really matter as he only has one left (duh) so an argument can be made that sides don’t matter and the importance lies on the finger itself.
The way it looks right now is that he’s making a statement leaving out the ring finger and there are a few possibilites here. Of course it could be a family ring and he could be from an important family but really, not only would that be a bit to similar to Doflamingo, it would also not make sense to not just replace the family ring on the occations he’s not wearing it. But he never wears a ring on that finger so one can only come to the conclusion that there’s some sentimental thought behind that.
The most logical would be that there is a ring he believes should be on that finger. Either he’s keeping it free for a future event coz he doesn’t have the ring yet (which I doubt) or he’s keeping it free coz technically there already is a ring for the finger. This could be a ring he doesn’t have anymore and regrets it (like he lost it with his left hand or threw it away) or a ring he does have but decides not to wear for his own reasons. Whichever it is, it clearly has such an important value that he doesn’t just covers it up or replaces it.
Now, given the ring finger and it’s symbolism the thought of a wedding ring isn’t too far fetched. We don’t know enough about his past to say that he could never have been married so I think it’s worth looking into.
Let’s just imagine for a second, that the ring missing is indeed a wedding ring, what could that mean?
He could have had a wife but she died and even though he’d technically not be married anymore, people who lost their partner almost always keep their wedding ring as a memento. If they move on, they don’t wear it anymore but they often keep it. This could give another perspective to the ‘wounds’ Daz was referring to after Marineford as he was clearly not talking about Luffy’s physical wounds but about the emotional wounds that came with losing a loved one.
Crocodile could have had a wife but she betrayed him and he took the ring off as to break the relationship and connection. Then the choice to not wear a ring on that finger in the future could serve as a reminder to himself not to trust people, not even those close to you. This could possibly explain his huge trust issues.
However, these two scenarios, while possible, don’t strike me as the most likely simply due to the two following scenes:
“If you want to protect something, do it right!!”
This could be totally random and only refer to the moment at hand but it could also indicate that he knows a thing or two about how to successfully protect someone. Which leads us to the infamous
“I know one of his weaknesses ...!! But if he cooperates with us ... then I won’t say anything about it!!”
Think about it, the biggest weakness ANY pirate of Crocodiles caliber could have is a loved one or people they care about and their identity and location to be known by the public or enemies (marines, pirates etc.) because no matter how powerful a pirate you are, if information like that was to spread and reach the wrong ears, this could have catastrophic consequences for you and the people you care about. It’s used over and over in OP stories like when the marines hunted down Gol D. Rogers offspring and slaughtered all newborn who could potentially have been Roger’s child or when the marines swore to kill Luffy for being Dragon’s son or when Zeff was used as leverage to force Sanji to comply. I doubt anyone knows Usopp is Yasopp’s son or that he had a woman and child in Syrup village otherwise someone would have probably attacked them to get back at Yasopp. Maybe that’s one of the reasons he left them. As to protect them.
Ivankov and Croc met years ago when Croc was still considered a rookie, so in his early/mid twenties. If there is indeed a ring to that finger and the person is still alive, Ivankov could know her identity or location and this could totally be the weakness Ivankov was refering to. Of course this only works if the person is still alive.
Now I know, you’re probably scratching your head, thinking I might be a bit nuts going this direction considering it’s Crocodile we’re talking about but really, think about it. His choice of jewelry is mega weird so what could be the reaaon for it? Also it’s hardly the weirdest theory out there (looking at you femCroc theorists).
This would also tie in neatly with why he decided to have his Baroque agents working in teams of two with male/female. I mean, unlike other characters, he clearly doesn't seem to see women as the weaker sex and him having his agents work in pairs has to be grounded somewhere. Maybe he was raised like that and his parents where a good example of how well men and women complement each other or maybe he made the experience himself. If so, I tend to think that he wasn't betrayed by the woman... or maybe he was and that's one of the reasons why he was so paranoid and basically expected Robin to betray him. All possible, really.
It’s also apparent that Oda incorporates marriages a lot more often nowadays than he did in the early years of One Piece. Mr 9 and Mrs Mondey got married on a cover page and have a baby, Capone got married and his henchman Gotty married too, Sai and Baby 5 married, Sanji and Pudding were meant to marry and let’s not forget poor Senior Pink’s backstory.
Last but not least, I’d like to point out a seemingly random fan question Oda answered in an SBS which seems just kinda odd once you consider everything I said above.
Now the question focuses on “they never had a child” and “I wonder what faces their children would have”, yet Oda starts with “They’ve been to weddings before ...” ... WOW. Really? Why would he say that? XD No one even asked about weddings. Funny. So they’ve been to weddings, huh? As what? Guests? Grooms? You know? It doesn’t seem to mean anything but if you consider Crocodile’s rings and such imo it’s just a weird thing to say. Then the mysterious “I wouldn’t say whether they had children or not ...” .....
Note: Especially during Alabasta Oda often forgets to draw Croc’s rings at all or accidentally leaves out the wrong finger but he is consistent with the rings since Impel Down. He still forgets them from time to time but he doesn’t switch the fingers anymore so one could reason that he had a vague idea of Crocodile’s reasons behind the rings when he introduced him but only solidified it or gave it more details once Croc showed back up. The anime and games however often just leave out the wrong ring probably thinking that it doesn’t matter.
#one piece#sir crocodile#crocodile#eiichiro oda#one piece theory#crocodile theory#wani yarou#crocoboy
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【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: Xia Yan Personal Story 4-1 Translation
Translation Masterlist | Xia Yan Masterlist | Video
Chapter 4: 4-1 / 4-2 / 4-4 / 4-5 / 4-6 / 4-7 / 4-9 / 4-10 / 4-11 / 4-12 / 4-13 / 4-14 / 4-16
Xia Yan’s Home
Our interactions after I moved into Xia Yan’s house had a long-lost familiarity to them, but also… a strange unfamiliarity.
When I walked up to the washroom door, the door suddenly opened from inside – Xia Yan had just finished showering and was just in the middle of wiping off his hair when he pushed the door open.
Just like in the past, he didn’t try very hard to dry it off, such that the white T-shirt that he was wearing was slightly damp, clinging onto his firm body.
Xia Yan: Why are you up so early?
MC: Sphinx said that he was going to contact us about collaborating on the case, right? I was afraid that he’d come over really early…
Xia Yan: Don’t worry, he won’t.
MC: How do you know? Did he contact you alone?
Xia Yan: Oh, he didn’t. I’m just speculating.
Xia Yan: Sphinx has always preferred operating alone in the dark. Even if he needed to work with us right now, he still probably wouldn’t want to reveal his identity.
Xia Yan: Plus, even if he doesn’t mind that, right now isn’t a good time.
Xia Yan: The two of us just appeared in front of Meng Qishan. Even though I’ve already threatened him to not reveal any info on us to Oedipus…
Xia Yan: It’s always best to take every possibility in consideration. If Sphinx seeks us out right now, he just might send himself to Oedipus for nothing.
Xia Yan: If I were him, I’d also opt to work underground. We’re out in the open while he’s hidden, which is more beneficial for the investigation.
MC: Makes sense.
MC: Right, why did you shower so early?
Xia Yan: Uh… I just finished up my morning run, so I took a quick cold shower.
Xia Yan: Right, are you also going to wash your face?
Xia Yan: Wait a bit, I just noticed that there’s no more toothpaste. I’ll get you a new tube.
MC: No need, I brought some.
MC: If you also haven’t washed your face yet, we can just use my toothpaste.
I helped Xia Yan squeeze out the toothpaste. Then, we stood side-by-side in front of the mirror to wash up.
Because we had grown up, and because Xia Yan’s home washroom was comparatively smaller, Xia Yan and I kept bumping into each other.
The steam that hadn’t dispersed yet in the washroom filled the air with the scent of shower gel. This was just a typical scent, but because Xia Yan was beside me, it felt… somewhat different.
Right now, the past commonplace occurrence of us washing our faces and brushing our teeth together… made me feel somewhat nervous.
The mirror in front of us candidly revealed all my emotions with complete clarity. I shifted away my gaze as if in escape, not daring to look at the mirror again.
MC: Xia Yan, are you still using this brand of shampoo?
The items on the shelves, the shampoo, the shower gel… were still the brands we used at home, eight years ago.
Xia Yan: Yeah. I had to buy new daily necessities after getting back, but I’m no good at picking them out…
Xia Yan: So I chose them based on our old habits – easy and saves me from worrying, haha.
In all these years, he still hadn’t forgotten those little habits. I suddenly felt a little happy.
But Xia Yan’s and my mouth-rinsing cups were a pair in the past, while they were now two completely different ones.
MC: What about your mouth-rinsing cup?
Xia Yan: There’s no one who sells that cup model anymore.
The small happiness that had just surged in my heart suddenly turned into a bit of disappointment.
MC: Is that so…
MC: Uh… about that, Xia Yan…
Xia Yan: Huh? What?
MC: A few days ago, I saw a pair of mouth-rinsing cups that look really nice online, and your cup just happens to be kinda worn… how about we change them together?
Xia Yan: Sure.
--
Xia Yan’s Home, Second Floor
After washing my face with Xia Yan, Sphinx called us, describing his action plan.
Just as Xia Yan had said, Sphinx was planning to continue hiding his identity. We would work out in the open while he remained hidden as we investigated together.
Sphinx: That’s what our plan is.
Sphinx: For these few days, I’ll first confirm whether there are other victims that corrupt detectives are harassing, and deal with their issues.
Sphinx: After confirming that those corrupt detectives have to do with Oedipus, you two can use other methods to investigate while hidden.
Xia Yan: Okay. Then we’ll wait for you to contact us.
Sphinx: Alright, that’s all-
MC: Wait, Sphinx.
The moment before Sphinx hung up, I called out to him.
Sphinx: Does Miss Lawyer have any other questions to bring up?
MC: I have some questions regarding our approaches towards cooperation. Sphinx, I acknowledge the reasons why you do not want to reveal your true identity right now.
MC: But we’ve already started investigating with you. You should at least display your sincerity, should you not?
Sphinx: …
Sphinx: Then how do you want me to display my sincerity, Miss Lawyer?
MC: Return Xia Yan’s box.
I heard a faint chuckle on the other side of the call.
MC: (What’s so funny about that?)
Xia Yan: Sphinx.
Perhaps because the pressure in Xia Yan’s voice, Sphinx’s brazen laughter stopped.
But there was a still faint layer of mischief in his voice.
Sphinx: Of course. I will get in touch with same-city speed delivery right after. You’ll be able to get your box today.
Sphinx: But after receiving it, I’d like to trouble both of you to examine it carefully.
Sphinx: Though you can consider me as a rogue, the point of stealing the box was to develop a cooperative relationship with you…
Sphinx: Logically, I wouldn’t play any tricks on these little things, but the two of you should still personally, carefully confirm it all.
Sphinx: For example, what if something happens with the delivery company and they break the box… then won’t I end up getting a really unfair accusation?
MC: Don’t worry, we will carefully look over the delivery.
Sphinx: If you say so, Miss Lawyer, then I can be at peace.
Sphinx: Although, Detective Xia Yan, why aren’t you speaking? You’re the most important involved party here. You, of all people, have got to be there to look over the delivery.
After Sphinx mentioned his name, Xia Yan’s face twisted very visibly.
Xia Yan: I… will.
MC: (Why does Sphinx sound like he’s messing with him…)
MC: (He hasn’t put something weird in the box to prank us, has he?)
--
These doubts continued until that afternoon, when we received the delivery Sphinx had sent.
I looked at the delivery box with severe caution.
MC: Xia Yan, could Sphinx have messed with something in the delivery box?
MC: I felt like there was something suspicious about his tone in the call.
Xia Yan: That guy definitely isn’t acting out of the goodness of his heart.
MC: No surprises there, you also feel the same…
Xia Yan: Mhmm… I messaged him after, asking what his goal was, but he just deliberately rambled on without saying anything important.
Xia Yan: How about I open it myself first, then call you over to see after confirming that there’s nothing wrong with it?
MC: That won’t do. No matter what happens, we’ve got to face it all together.
MC: Plus, didn’t you say before that Sphinx is an alright person? I bet that, at most, he’s just pranking us somewhere.
Xia Yan: … But I want to rescind that evaluation on him now.
Xia Yan sighed, then opened the package.
That box with the Sherlock Holmes pipe printed on it was wrapped in layers of bubble wrap, looking like it hadn’t suffered any bumps on the way here.
MC: He sure did give it enough protection. Just based on that, I’m willing to forgive him even if there is a prank somewhere.
Xia Yan: Well, that’s something he should be doing.
Xia Yan scoffed and opened the wooden box. The inside was filled to the brim with various little items.
His biology competition gold medals, the models he made himself… as well as many familiar objects. And what was piled at the very top of everything was a ring.
A ring with very crude worksmanship. The ring had been wound from copper into a circular shape, and a laminated four-leaf clover was sitting on the top.
This was the first thing that Xia Yan had personally made for me.
MC: Isn’t this the ring you made for me during kindergarten?
When we were still in kindergarten, we “played house” often, that popular child’s game.
One time, we got too into the game and thought that the ring braided from dog’s tail grass didn’t look nice enough, so we secretly took mom’s ring.
And then… we were both reprimanded severely.
Back then, I didn’t know how valuable the ring was or what its special meaning was, so I really didn’t understand why mom was unhappy.
MC: Back then, dad explained that the ring was one that he gave to mom, so only mom could wear it.
MC: But in the end, you hollered—
Back then, Xia Yan had earnestly yelled “Then I’ll just give her a ring”…
MC: …!
Xia Yan: …
We were long past those times when children’s words held no weight.
MC: (Does Xia Yan… still remember what he said back then…)
I lowered my head in a fluster, rubbing the ring in embarrassment.
When we were little, Xia Yan accidentally made the clover ring too big, so we comforted each other, saying that it would be just right if I wore it after we grew up.
And right now… I couldn’t help attempting to fit the ring on my middle finger.
MC: It’s on. The size is perfect…
Xia Yan: Yeah… perfect.
Xia Yan repeated the words in a whisper, then stared quietly at the four-leaf clover ring.
I stroked the ring on my hand. Suddenly…
MC: Xia Yan…
Xia Yan: Huh? What’s the matter?
MC: It seems like I can’t take off the ring…
Xia Yan: Huh?
Xia Yan held up my hand, trying to shift the ring, but the ring didn’t move in the slightest.
His brow wrinkled as he snatched a small plier from the toolbox on the table.
MC: What are you doing!
Alarmed, I stared at Xia Yan.
Xia Yan: I’ve got to hurry and cut off the ring, or else your finger will end up swollen.
MC: I refuse!
Xia Yan: Don’t fuss, this is just a toy ring. Your finger’s more important.
As he spoke, Xia Yan had already grabbed my hand. I rushed to cover the ring with my other hand, resisting desperately.
MC: No way! You gave this ring to me, so it’s mine! I refuse to let you break it!
Xia Yan: Jeez, I’ll make you another one in the future, okay? Be good.
MC: The one in the future is for the future, but you can’t break this ring either!
We traded fast verbal shots without realizing anything. Only after coming back to my senses did I notice… something wasn’t quite right.
MC: !!!
Xia Yan: …
Xia Yan: Sit tight, I’ll find some lubricating oil to see if it’ll work.
--
Xia Yan soon brought the lubricating oil. He applied some to my middle finger first, then tried to rotate the ring gently, trying to push it off.
MC: Ugh…!
Xia Yan immediately stopped.
Xia Yan: It hurts?
Xia Yan: Looks like this really won’t work.
Xia Yan sighed helplessly, then took a small plier from the toolbox.
MC: You’re…
Xia Yan: Don’t worry, I’ll be really careful. I’ll do my best to not break the ring.
Xia Yan: Don’t fidget, I don’t want to hurt you by accident.
To make working on it easier, Xia Yan half-knelt in front of me, holding up the hand with the ring gently.
His actions right now lent a particular ambiguity to the scene all of a sudden.
MC: …!
Xia Yan: What’s the matter? Did I hurt you?
MC: No… keep going.
How exactly… does Xia Yan see me?
Bit by bit, each scene after my reunion flooded my mind.
MC: (Xia Yan’s always carefully held onto this ring for so long…)
MC: (To me… does Xia Yan also…?)
As soon as this thought popped into my head, my heart started to beat wildly.
Although, why didn’t Xia Yan make it clear with me?
⊳ Out of caution
⊳ Because I didn’t give a response
MC: (Speaking of which, there’s often a lot online about long-time friends who are too scared to confess.)
MC: (They were afraid that if the romance failed, they’d lose an important friend.)
MC: (Xia Yan… probably also wanted to be cautious, so he didn’t say anything.)
MC: (If I do a little something, would he… understand?)
⊳ Out of caution
⊳ Because I didn’t give a response
MC: (If I think about it carefully, I think I’ve done a lot of low-EQ stuff…)
MC: (It’s all my fault…)
MC: (I should be able to make changes in time right now… what should I do to get Xia Yan to understand my emotions?)
--
I was just in the middle of my messy thoughts when I heard Xia Yan’s light voice.
Xia Yan: Alright, it’s off!
Xia Yan: Great Lawyer, hurry and inspect it to see if it’s perfectly fine.
MC: Absolutely perfect! Great Detective Xia, you’re way too amazing!
MC: (Either way… since I’m living at Xia Yan’s house now, I’ve got lots of time to figure something out.)
Xia Yan: What’s the matter? You seem a little absentminded.
MC: Not at all, just wondering about what we should eat for breakfast.
Xia Yan: I know several decent breakfast restaurants. Let’s go, I’ll take you over to try them!
#Tears of Themis#tears of themis translations#xia yan#未定事件簿#luke pearce#a steel tree has bloomed#yang xiao is cackling rn#this part is a heap of sugar#to balance out everything to come#can you two just get married already
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Sparks of Life Opera Edition
I am still not over Singing a New Tune so I am going to recap for you the experience of writing that fic because there were many interesting moments over the course of those three days. Lemme start from the beginning.
- So I’m writing a fic that mostly focuses on sexual stuff but it is also mainly happening in an opera so my first order of business is to figure out what that opera is. Both the building itself and the show they’ll be watching. Because that is of utmost importance.
- I have already mentioned that SoL is located in New York so I looked up New York operas. I do not vibe with research most of the time but I vibe even less with having to come up with names for any kind of thing so research was definitely the choice here.
- I somehow get results about operas that are in the other end of the USA. That was not great. I get to the Metropolitan Opera House at last (which I might have known existed if I cared about opera in any way, shape or form) which is great! I am so close to starting the fic! Just need to figure out what opera they’re watching. Because I need that for reasons.
- I end up downloading a PDF with the seatings inside the Met Opera so that I can figure out where the hell they will be seating. But I leave that for later. I look through the actual plays that they’re having while absolutely failing with the navigation of their site. I find a show that catches my eye. It’s called The Magic Flute. I have zero idea what it’s about so I read the Wikipedia summary just to be aware. It mentions that a character has a moment when he’s singing about his search for a wife and I think “Perfect! Foreshadowing!” (since this is set pretty early on in Griffin and Valtor’s relationship).
- I decide to look up the opera and see if I can find a part of it on youtube to figure out how it will sound. I am pretty sold on it already because of the summary I read and also because it implies there is magic as a subject in it which would call back to canon. Still, I look it up. I find a full version of it on the internet with English subtitles... It is 2 hours and 35 minutes:
youtube
- “Wow, okay... that’s a bit much. But hey, it has got subtitles in English. Maybe I’d actually watch that... once I’m done with the fic. I’m just gonna listen to a little bit while I finish my research, though, so I can have an idea of what it sounds like.”
- Now it’s time to open the engagement fic - Enough to Be Yours - because I don’t remember what year they got engaged in and I need that to reverse engineer the year in which this fic is taking place so that I can make sure that The Magic Flute was being performed back then. I don’t have an year stated in the engagement fic, though. I have a date - 9th October which is Friday and that means the year is 2015. Great! So I need to figure out if they were performing The Magic Flute back in 2010. Great.
- That takes a shit ton of time and nerves as it turns out. I spent over 4 hours just researching the logistics for this fic and a lot of that was unnecessary but I’m getting ahead of myself.
- I cannot find out whether they were performing the Magic Flute in 2010. I get results of it being broadcast in English (for the first time, I believe) in 2012 but that is way too late for this fic to be happening. Also, they are speaking of a broadcast which just doesn’t work for me. So I am having a hard time over here.
- I find a list of the new titles in 2011 but nothing mentions The Magic Flute as far as I can see.
- I am now considering switching to another opera. I see an opera that is based on events from The Song of the Nibelungs (I cannot be assed to go back and check what the actual title was). That catches my eye because I have read a book that was titled The Ring of the Nibelungs, I believe, and I kinda remember stuff from it... which is what makes me hesitate because that was a big tragedy.
- Meanwhile, I have stumbled upon a trailer for The Magic Flute:
youtube
MY GOD IS THAT BEAUTIFUL! THOSE PROPS ARE FUCKING GORGEOUS! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN THAT YOU GET TO GO AND SEE THAT LIVE? THAT IS NUTS! (Also, when I mentioned paper birds (I think they are) in the fic, I meant the ones shown in 0:13, not the big one in the beginning but HOLY SHIT, DID YOU SEE THAT THING????? HOW IS THAT REAL?!?!?!?! IT IS SO FUCKING AMAZING!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I CAN’T. I AM DYING. THIS IS JUST TOO BEAUTIFUL.)
- I somehow happen upon an old archive of the opera (idk how I did that but I bookmarked it in case I’ll need it again) that has information about plays going back as far as the year 1900. This is nuts! I am in too deep but I can’t pull myself away. I’ve gotten this far, I will see it through.
- I search for keyword “flute” and I get results. Some of them are pretty old but I finally find what I need. Performances of the Magic Flute in 2010! Bingo!
- ...Oh, wait, they’re all around Christmas and New Year’s Eve. Hmm... when will it be okay for them to go? I mean, Valtor has been established to have zero free time around that time of the year and I can’t see them going on the 24th or the 31st... Oh, those are matinees. Definitely no! I need them to go in the evening. And some of these are broadcasts which doesn’t work for me either.
- I looked up earlier years as well. I considered another opera again. I decided to switch up the timeline a little. It makes sense if it’s in 2009. I think they had spring performances of The Magic Flute then. Or was it 2008? Anyway, I finally settle on an early April date in 2009 (I think). Now that that’s settled, let’s go back to the seats.
- First I need to figure out what floor (let’s say) of the opera they’re on. I was thinking of the last one first (family circle) but the boxes (I figure those seats will be safest for their activities) look like this:
which isn’t vibing with me because they would be in the front row and it seems more visible. So I relocate to the previous floor (balcony) that looks like this:
That works a little better although there’s the danger of having more people in their box. But they’re sitting in box 14, seats 5 (Griffin) and 6 (Valtor) (where the arrow is pointing) and there’s only one man in seat 4 in front of them. So that is the best I can do.
- Wow, all that’s finally figured out. I decide to do all the rest of the research up front in order to be able to just write after that and not stop for another 4 hours. More on those other things later BUT I get to the part where I need to pick a vibrator and... well, I done fucked up.
- First thing that comes up for a remote controlled vibrator is Lush, of course. And I am immediately sold because it has a sound activated setting which Valtor will definitely love to utilize while in the opera.
BUT
Lush 2 (which is the first one to have the sound activated setting, I believe) came out in 2018. Even if we accept that Lush also has it, that came out in 2015. My fic is set in 2009. Searching for 2009 vibrators literally went no where so in the end I decided that the SoL verse is actually set in a parallel universe where time is a little warped so the Lush 2 is out in 2009. Plus, that way there isn’t going to be a pandemic in future installments. Overall, that works. Except that I needn’t have been so thorough with my opera research beforehand. Oh, well. It’s finally time to start writing.
- How do you write? How do you start a fic? One word in front of the other? Oh, okay, never mind. Lipstick is a girl’s best friend. Let’s start from there. And a kiss that leads to the discussion of lipstick... Damn, I forgot to spend one more hour on researching what kind of lipstick Griffin would have worn. Shame! You don’t get that detail now. I believe I didn’t even mention a shade.
- Oh, wait. Need for his breath to taste like something. Hmm, let’s see. Tonic water? Yeah, that sounds about right. Never mind that he should have probably drunk it right before getting out of the car to kiss her if it was still lingering on his breath. I mean, that’s not impossible. Just improbable.
- He’s also wearing cologne, right? Gotta research that too. How else would I get this:
and zero idea what it actually smells like despite the description. Also, did not check if that was a thing in 2009 but the story now exists in a vacuum so who cares.
- Apparently, Griffin doesn’t own any golden bracelets even though she does have a golden necklace? Or she could have a golden bracelet, just not one she likes for the current situation? Anyway, I wanted to mention Ediltrude as well because the twins always go together and that was the best I came up with. (That said, I didn’t need to put the mentions of them one sentence apart.)
- My god, I used a semicolon! That feels illegal. I sure hope I used that bitch correctly.
- Okay, I absolutely love all the banter and just flow in the car. Idk how I did that since it’s such a constricted space but I am really proud of it. However, the logistics were sometimes hard to logic my way through. I mean, Valtor doesn’t get to look at her a lot and I had to employ a red traffic light to give him the chance to do so.
- I hit a wall about three paragraphs later. Things started going in a weird direction. I was considering even deleting the last two lines but then I managed to get back on track thanks to having figured out how they met and I decided to write a little bit about that without spoiling it (that will be a fic of its own some day). Suffice it to say it was a meet-very-ugly. But it bailed me out. Also, they got over it so it’s all good.
- And now... that paragraph. You know which one I’m talking about. It stands out with the locations I’ve given. That paragraph required 30 minutes of looking at Google Earth to figure it out and I still nearly got it wrong. At that point it occurred to me that they’ll need a place to park. I mean, idk how parking is in NYC but it’s probably not the way it is in Bulgaria especially on small neighborhood streets where it’s just... park wherever (even in front of a garage if you’re brazen enough and don’t fear having your tires slashed). So first, I was going to have them coming down Tenth Avenue and passing by the backside of the Opera which is not ideal for me because I needed Griffin to figure out they’re going to the opera so that they can have the following dialogue. But there is the New York Public Library of the Performing Arts right next door so I figure Griffin will recognize the area if it’s next to a library. And I have them almost at the garage but... that’s not looking right. This garage is on 65th Street and mine is on 62nd... I have been looking at the wrong garage for the past hour. Now that I have caught that mistake, things get easier. They just drive right past the facade of the opera, take a right turn and then enter the garage. Easy peasy. For whoever’s actually paying attention to the map.
- They’re in the garage now and I have to write another kiss. Shoot! I do not vibe with writing kisses. Writing sex scenes is much easier. But I’ll try my best because this is a little bit necessary if we’re dealing with an insertion of a vibrator in a public bathroom one minute from now. (Again, logistics!) I actually went back to add in a little discomfort during the kiss (but not too much because they’re consumed with each other anyway and probably missed something) just to make it more realistic. They can’t be comfortable in the car. Also, you have got to love how I never even thought of what make the car is. But I did stop to research the tinting of the car windows.
- Now this is extremely funny but I would have had zero idea that there are different laws about how tinted your car windows can be in the USA if I hadn’t read a very extensive critique of Fifty Shades (whichever part it was that had that info). So I look up the VLT for New York and it says 70%. Great! Then it won’t be that visible through the windows what they’re doing inside. Oh, wait! VLT means Visible Light Transmission aka 70% of the light should be passing through the window. Aka it is only tinted on 30%. This much:
That’s practically nothing. You can see everything through it. Welp, then someone’s gonna see, I guess.
- Can’t believe I didn’t stop to look up clutches either. (Lmao, I was calling it a purse instead of a clutch at first even though I definitely meant a clutch. And then I remembered that clutch existed as a word. Who would’ve thought?) It’s baffling trying to figure out why my brain was prioritizing some details over others and I just genuinely have no idea what was going on.
- Griffin is blushing a lot in this. Can you tell I have no idea how else to convey Valtor giving her feelings through body language?
- I first envisioned the box being opened by the hair pin by turning it like a key. Only later did I realize that that wouldn’t be possible because the pin has two parts (whatever they’re called) and that would make turning it impossible unless all of the base fits into one hole in the lid of the box. So I had to adapt my vision to using the extensions at the ends of the hair pin like a hook that pulls the lid up once it’s clicked free. I have zero idea how that would be done but I’m sure it can be done. So yeah, anyway, the pin looks like this but with attachments at the ends to open the box:
- I might have gone a little overboard with Griffin’s reaction to having the vibrator inside her. I might have made her a bit too embarrassed but I still think that she simply wouldn’t appreciate someone knowing about what she considers a private experience (despite the very public setting).
- And I am being overly specific again with the seats but I worked for that information so you’re getting it against your will!
- Speaking of, that man in their box was pretty ignored throughout the fic. But then again Griffin wasn’t overflowing with lucidity. She is sure to have missed... A Lot, actually.
- My apologies (once again) to @her-majesty-wears-jeans for not letting Griffin punch Valtor in the face for the terrible pun he was about to make but I thought that that would ruin the mood so I had to skip it.
- I might have imagined things a little differently but then consent factored in and I had to change things up so that Griffin is clearly on board with everything. I hope it came through that way at least. She is on board even if she is very, very frustrated. She would never throw the bet just because it’s difficult for her. Though, I’m taking note for future fics of maybe being a little bit more explicit about the enjoyment of all parties involved. I just couldn’t really think of a way to convey it better back then and I am coming up with several ideas now and I will try to keep them in mind for future fics.
- I keep going back and forth on just how far into their relationship this is. Sometimes it feels like it’s not enough time for them to get this familiar with each other and sometimes it feels like too much for them to still be skirting their feelings for each other like that. Will update when I make up my mind about how long exactly it has been.
- In retrospect, probably should have picked up an opera that people would be less likely to bring their children to (as brought to my attention by @her-majesty-wears-jeans). I apologize for this. Did not consider it at all.
- A wild tangent about Griffin’s sexual experiences before Valtor popped up (for the second time now). This is giving me thoughts and I am not even sure if I’ll manage to get them all out in the bachelorette party fic. Oh, no, I am getting ideas again.
- God, I had to mention those paper birds because I adore them. Also, needed to do a time skip somehow (sure hope they don’t show up at the very end or the very beginning).
- So there are some things about the whole thing with the suit jacket that if you squint, you’ll miss the very far-fetched and convoluted ways in which I could make them make sense but again, it isn’t impossible to make them operate according to logic so good enough.
- And now for the dress:
I thought it would be reasonable for Griffin to own something like that. It doesn’t look overly expensive or dramatic.
- I swear that most of the 2% angst was an accident. Griffin was supposed to say the “You paid how much for tickets exactly just so you could fool around?” line but the following few paragraphs sprang on me out of nowhere. That was where I left it off the first day I was working on it and I wasn’t sure how to continue it. Then the angst happened.
- I do not believe the retaliation part was planned but would it really be a Griffin x Valtor story if something like that hadn’t happened? XD
- “reverberated”, “multitudinous” and “unobtainable” are probably not words that Griffin’s muddled mind would go to in that precise moment but everything else I came up with for them just did not sound right.
- I completely forgot the word for neckline and was so mad at myself for that but, luckily, I managed to remember it before posting the fic. I believe the original read “he slipped a finger under the fabric of her dress, running it over the top of her breast” which is not incorrect but just not precise enough for my liking.
- Sure hope the shortened version of the opera did not cut out the ending musical sequence. But that seems unlikely.
- The idea was running overly long in my head by having them going back to the penthouse so that I could have the scene where he picked her up so I decided to move things around and have him carry her bridal style on their way from the opera to the car. It’s not like she didn’t earn it.
- Pretty sure I had planned something a little different for the last several lines of dialogue but I couldn’t remember what so we get this. Which isn’t a disadvantage. I mean, Griffin is already thinking of marrying him. XD (That’s probably a bit of a stretch at the current status of their relationship but then again, she was thinking of a wedding, not necessarily of their wedding even though I’m clearly a little romance gargoyle that meant exactly that.)
- Originally, Valtor was supposed to floor the brakes while they were out in the NYC traffic but then I decided that doing it while still in the garage with only one car behind them and both vehicles driving at a very slow speed was a lot safer so I switched to that. It also saved me writing more words which was appreciated. I thought this fic would be a bit shorter.
- I was at a loss for how many orgasms Griffin should want from him but then the commitment line happened and that was all avoided.
#winx club#winx griffin#winx valtor#griffin x valtor#covenshipping#sparks of life#singing a new tune#trivia#trivia tuesday#research#my writing process#the magic flute#yeah no cut and this is gonna be hell on mobile#i know#i'm evil
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Sic Semper Monstrum, Chapter 5
[Read on AO3]
Written for @vfordii‘s birthday which was....five months ago. BUT LISTEN, it’s still better than last year’s six months so like...improvement. IMPROVEMENT.
“You know why I called you here.” The Marshal’s voice is soft, barely louder than the hum of the fluorescents. “I presume.”
Shirayuki catches herself at the edge of her seat, chest pitched forward, neck craning to decipher every word and--
She settles back with a frown. Even a PhD isn’t a defense to the cheapest tactic on the pop-psych bookstore self-help shelf, it seems. Worse, Izana knows it, his mouth tipped so subtly toward a smile. And now he knows she knows it, and--
Her mug has gone cool, but it’s at least a credible distraction, a convenient way to buy some time and save face. Not something she ever expected she’d care about. Doesn’t mean she won’t take the opportunity.
“Zen.” The ceramic clacks like a shot as she sets it down. “You want to talk about the drift.”
“Yes.” He breathes, long and labored. “And no. I want him back in the cockpit.”
Come see me at your earliest convenience, his email had said, practically polite by PPDC standards. Manners atrophied when a body spent so much time in the higher altitudes of the chain of command. I’d like to discuss a few things with you.
She’d known what this would be about. What it was always going to be about. And still--
Shirayuki is still disappointed. “You have to be joking. It took him three years to get him into a jaeger at all, and you want to just...push him right back in.”
“No,” he hums, fingers still and steepled over his desk. “I want you to do it.”
There are rules of engagement for tangling with the Marshal. Voices are to be kept low, steady. Think before speaking. Don’t react. Showing an emotion in front of Izana Wisteria would be as good as handing him a rope to hang her with. “I’m not his commander.”
His fingers knit, knuckles popping in the silence-- “I know that, Doctor.”
Her own are curled into fists; at least then he can’t see them shaking. “Then I don’t know what you expect me to do.”
“I wouldn’t presume to tell you how to do your job,” he tells her, with only a pause for breath before he does. “I am merely suggesting that it is far past time to remove the kid gloves you have been handling him with.”
Her fists clench, hard enough to leave vivid crescents in the meat of her palms. “I believe I’m the judge of that.”
“Of course.” Every word drips with insincerity. “But I’m sure a little encouragement from you would--”
“I’ll do what’s necessary for the health of my patient,” she informs him, words clipped. “You’re not my commander.”
Izana stills, gaze riveted to her. “I am well aware of that, doctor. But I need him in a jaeger yesterday.”
“You’ve needed him in a jaeger for the past three years.” Shirayuki bolts to her feet, and oh, if only she could locate at least another foot of height, she might be able to finally have the high ground in one of these arguments. “I don’t see what the rush is now.”
His voice doesn’t raise above a pleasant chat, but bitterness weighs down every word. “You should.”
Shirayuki doesn’t believe in violence. Or rather, violence is a choice, and she doesn’t believe in choosing it unless no other option remains that causes less harm, but, well--
She’s got a very short list of people who deserved a black eye, and Izana Wisteria sorely tempts her to put his name on it. “What do you mean by that?”
The Marshall is all tense lines behind the battlement of his desk, a buttress against the fall. “Aren’t you a part of K-Science?”
The only distinction that mattered in the dome was between combatants and non; that a licensed therapist fell more into the ‘administration’ box rather than ‘research scientist’ was the least of their concerns. At least as far as the placement of her office. “Tangentially.”
“Well then.” His tension washes away like debris after the storm. “It’s all in the numbers.”
Shirayuki has been trained extensively in conflict resolution, in effective communication, in managerial manipulation, and still, still-- annoyance dogs her every step, nipping at her heels as she loses herself in the dome’s labyrinth of corridors. For once it would be nice to leave the Marshal’s office with something more like a sense of purpose and less like a reprieve in shoving boulders up a muddy hill in Tartarus, but this far into her tenure with the PPDC, she knows better than to hope for impossible asks. It’s not a new feeling by any means-- there’s certainly a hole worn in her heart for just this sort of fruitless anger and a monkey on her back with Izana Wisteria’s face, but he’s certainly devised an entirely new way to get her hackles up today.
Long limbs insinuate themself next to hers, a white-clad arm weaving its way around her elbow. She looks up-- not far-- into a pearl white, movie star grin.
“Well, well,” Yuzuri lilts, halfway between a drawl and singsong. “Someone’s looking stormy.”
Shirayuki doesn’t know how tall a person has to be to be considered thunderous, but if the crinkle to Yuzuri’s eyes are any indication, she’s well below the mark. ��I was meeting with the Marshal.”
Yuzuri swings a single, impressed note. “Yeah, that’d do it. Or, I’d imagine it would. Not like he asks to see many of us in K-Science.”
Funny, she doesn’t say, since he’s so comfortable quoting your data. “You should probably count yourself lucky on that one.”
“Oh, yeah.” Yuzuri waves a hand, bangles jangling down her wrist. “Garrack handles him. Honestly, I think she enjoys the aggravation.”
Knowing Garrack like she does, Shirayuki certainly wouldn’t discount it.
Slender fingers flick out a sharp snap. “Hey, maybe you can send her the next time you need to deal with His Majesty. I’m sure she’d kill for a distraction just about now.”
“Oh, no! I’m-- I don’t need any help, it’s just...” She frowns, rifling through the satchel slung over her shoulder. She hardly has anything in it-- lip balm, her notes, a pack of tissues, her civilian identification, her wallet-- but still, her keys are shifted underneath the whole of her life, jingling just out of her reach.
It’s a metaphor, probably, but her love affair with literature is at too much of a standstill these days for her to bother unpacking it. Not when it’s probably going to end in her storming back into the Marshal’s office and demanding he show her some form of respect if he expects her to do her job.
Yuzuri’s mouth curls into a sly smile. “He’s top brass that’s used to having full grown adults ask how high rather than why?”
“That’s part of it,” she admits begrudgingly. “But it would also be nice if he could say what he means, instead of--youch!”
Metal teeth digging painfully into her palm, but she holds on anyway, dragging the ring right out, hair ties and all.
“Instead of...?” Yuzuri prompts, far too amused.
She heaves a sigh, plucking rubber bands off her hand. “Making it all some sort of...logic block word puzzle.”
Blonde brows slant skeptically. “I thought you loved those things.”
“For fun. Not for...” She waves a hand, keys jingling and brightly as Yuzuri’s bangles. “...Professional conversations. I’m not here for his entertainment. I don’t have time for-- for games!”
“Not when you could be doing your actual job.”
“Right.” Her actual job, which has almost exclusively been managing Zen’s feelings regarding Izana for months now. “And now he wants me to...“
She hesitates, teeth sinking into her lip. Outside the dome, patient confidentiality is the backbone of her profession, but here, when everyone eats and breathes and lives on top of one another--
“Lemme guess,” Yuzuri drawls, “get that boy in a pilot seat?”
-- it’s impossible. “I just wish he would show some faith.”
“In you?”
“No.” That’s asking far too much from a man who has only ever trusted as far as the drift could take him. She heaves a sigh, flyaways fluttering in her peripherals. “In Zen.”
A laugh huffs out of Yuzuri. “That’s asking a bit much from an older brother, don’t you think?”
Shirayuki has never, strictly, had a sibling. Ryuu certainly straddles the line between friend, colleague, and family, but she’s never doubted his drive, or the rigorous course of his research. He wouldn’t be her first choice to stand in front of the PPDC committee and defend her findings, but in a pinch, she would trust him wholeheartedly, with no reservations, to do the job.
That does not seem to be the unifying sibling experience. “Is it?”
Yuzuri grins. “You are definitely an only child.”
She restrains her scowl to a disapproving frown. “Maybe, in this case, that’s a good thing.”
They turn down a corridor, and relief floods into her-- this is it, the hall that holds her office at the end. She takes a step forward, but Yuzuri holds her back, gaze fixed leagues away.
“Do you really think he’ll do it?” She blinks, eyes finally focusing down on Shirayuki. “You really think he’ll get back in that jeager?”
“Yes.”
Yuzuri recoils, blinking. “Wow, no hesitation on that one, huh?”
“None,” she agrees, a smile lingering at the edge of her lips. “I know Zen might be hurting right now after--” the most disastrous drift she’s witnessed in her entire career-- “everything, but he...”
She takes in a breath, putting her back to her door. “No matter what happens, Zen always does the right thing.” It’d been that unwavering moral compass that had drawn her to him, a shining bright light among the downtrodden heart of the dome. “He may need a little time to pick himself back up, dust himself back off, but he knows that one day, he’ll have to sit down and talk this out, not run--”
“But not today, it looks like.” Yuzuri’s hand darts right over her shoulder, plucking something off her door.
Shirayuki blinks, letting the yellowed square of paper come into focus.
Something came up.
Rain check
~Z
She stares, fingers numb as she swipes the scrap out of Yuzuri’s hands.
“That sunovabitch,” she grits out, paper dinting beneath her grip. “He’s avoiding me.”
“So.” Yuzuri cocks her head, mouth stretching wide. “Wanna grab some grub?”
“I’m just saying.” Suzu’s hand scribbles across a napkin, dropping symbols more arcane than any rift. “If I could just get any of the brass to take a good look at this, things would be different.”
“Different how?” Kazaha drawls, accusation dripping from every word. At least, that’s how it sounds-- it hadn’t taken Shirayuki long to realize that’s just how the man speaks, every phoneme meant to cut glass. The asshole accent, Yuzuri calls it. “Does this somehow improve the quality of life in the dome? The world? The--?”
“It’ll certainly improve my quality of life if I don’t have to hear about it,” Yuzuri deadpans. “C’mon, we’re eating dinner. Let’s put the toys away.”
“It’s not a toy, it’s a tool,” Suzu grumbles, finishing it with a flourish. “And if we used it, we’d know when the kaiju would show up, instead of just waiting for them to wade into the Sea of China or whatever.”
That, at least, gets the team to bow their heads over it, passing around frowns and furrows alike.
“If that was the case,” Kazaha sniffs, pushing it away. “Garrack Gazelt would have already put this in front of the Marshal.”
Suzu scowls, yanking it back. “You know that none of those jarheads appreciate good science! Until I get this paired up with some pretty little graphs, I might as well be speaking Japanese.”
Izuru perks up at that. “Doesn’t the Marshal speak Japanese?”
“That’s besides the point.”
“Hm.” Ryuu squirms next to her, craning his head over the napkin. “I think you’re missing a variable.”
“Impossible.” Suzu stares down at it. “Just look here--”
Shirayuki glances down, letters and numbers do-si-doing between roots and over fractions. Izana might shove her office all the way down in K-Science, but that certainly didn’t give her the training to decipher this little bit of mathematical prognostication.
Suzu pitches forward, felt-tip pen rolling across his knuckles in a bit of sleight-of-hand she would have never thought him capable of. “--you’ll see that by putting ‘a’ over ‘n’ squared--”
“All right.” Yuzuri’s fingers knit in the cotton of his button-down, dragging him back down onto the bench with a thump. “I think we’ve had quite enough of that.”
With a lift of his brows, Suzu’s face shifts from fox to puppy in eight muscles flat. “But, Yuzuri--”
“No buts.” Her fingers pluck the pen out of his, dropping it back into a pocket with a firm, warning pat. “Now, as I was trying to say: His Highness is avoiding you.”
Shirayuki blinks, gaze dragging up to where Yuzuri waits with an impatient smirk. “N-no! That’s not it at all. Something probably came up--”
“Izana’s avoiding you?” Suzu swings a wide, gaping stare at her. “Didn’t you just have a meeting today? What did you do to him?”
Her hands fly up, waving off the accusation. “Ah, no, I didn’t--”
“No, not His Majesty, His Highness,” Yuzuri corrects, blowing on a spoonful of the mess’s finest chicken noodle. “And he is avoiding you, which is bullshit.”
She has to bite her cheeks to keep her lips from peeling back into a grimace. “Zen has lots of work to keep him busy--”
“What work?” Kazaha scoffs, meticulously cutting his chicken into bite-sized pieces. “He’s a ranger without a co-pilot. It’s not like he can just jump into a jaeger and fight kaiju with half a working mecha.”
Yuzuri swivels toward him, hands held out with a level of emphasis Shirayuki can’t help but feel is more than the situation truly deserves. Especially since some of the rangers are starting to peer over their way. “See, even Kazaha knows it’s bullshit.”
His mouth purses into a tight frown. “I don’t know why it’s even Kazaha--”
Yuzuri’s brows make a dubious stretch toward her hairline. “I’m pretty sure you do.”
“--I’m very socially astute, even Shidan--”
“--just because he lets you out of the lab doesn’t mean you don’t offend people by breathing--”
“I dunno.” Suzu’s forehead furrows, tapping a spoon on each of his oyster crackers, drowning them in broth. “Zen seems like a real upright guy, you know? Forthright. If he had a problem, he’d say something, not just ghost you.”
Yuzuri stares at him. “He buys you one bubble tea, and now he can do no wrong.”
“Do you know how hard those are to get out here? He had to go all the way out to--”
Whatever else Suzu means to say, it’s lost in the siren.
This isn’t Shirayuki’s first time in the dome-- far from it-- but it’s never easy.
The siren’s moan shivers through the air, something she feels rather than hears. Her teeth rattle in her mouth, and there’s nothing she wants to do more than curl up beneath the table and ride it out, eyes squeezed shut and hands over her ears. She wouldn’t be the only one; already half of K-Science is on the ground, tears streaming down more than one ashen face.
Man’s worst enemy is fear. Grandpa had told her that, letting her dip her toes into the bay. She’d been small, young enough that she still wondered if kaiju might lurk under the surface, waiting to pull tasty little girls beneath the depths. Kaiju can only kill you once, but fear kills a hundred times. His hand sits heavy on her shoulder, a comfort, a cage; and she--
She gets up.
Pilots and personnel scramble; one tech stands up too fast, boot hooking on the bench’s edge and sprawling face-first into the floor. It’s only ranger reflexes that keep her from getting trampled, dodging around the splay of her fingers with a dexterity that would make Shirayuki’s jaw drop if she wasn’t trying to keep all her molars from jittering out of their sockets.
There’s a hand on her shoulder. She hadn’t just imagined it, a goad to get her standing. She traces the hand back, up ranger fatigues to dark hair, brows raised, and beneath them--
It’s violet eyes, not gold. Not Obi, but a ranger she’s never seen before, his mouth quirked with cold consideration.
“It would be safer,” he says, voice somehow Altantic-crisp over the cacophony, “if you stayed in your seat.”
Her mouth opens, working around the sounds to thank him, but he’s already gone, disappeared into the crowd of PPDC personnel around her. Shirayuki’s eyes shift over the mob, trying to-- to find him, maybe, or at least a face she knew, someone that she could talk to, someone to memorize one last time--
She finds one, silver-blond hair shimmering at the door, too pale to be anyone else. Zen. It’s Zen looking right at her, those deep blue eyes inscrutable, mouth carved into a line more grim than he’s ever shown her.
He turns away.
“It’s too soon, though,” Suzu murmurs, staring down at his napkin. The screens are on now, muted by the siren’s wails, and there’s a Kaiju on it, frill rigid around its reptilian face as it tears a city to twisted metal ribbons. It’s just buildings, streets, impossible to tell which one, but all that matters right now is not here.
“As I said,” Ryuu says, only just audible over the drone. “You dropped a variable.”
What hurts most, once her teeth stop rattling and her heart ceases to pound in her chest, is that Yuzuri is right-- Zen is avoiding her.
“The sessions are his choice.” Labeling tubes isn’t quite how Shirayuki had envisioned her evening going, especially with her mind half-away, pondering over the Pacific, but it’s something to do. “No one can force him to come.”
“Sounds like that’s half the problem,” Garrack mutters, forehead pressed to the hood, leaving a faint, oily smear across the glass. “Free will. Foils gods and men alike, doesn’t it?”
Her mouth pulls down at the corners, a bow stretched too tight, just like her patience. “I don’t want him to be forced. Therapy only works if the patient wants to change.”
Which, by Zen’s conspicuous absence, tells her he doesn’t. He’s happy as he is, wearing the fatigues but never getting in the cockpit, waiting for a copilot that’s already shown how little he cares about anything but lining his own pocket.
“Of course. You can lead a horse to water, but you’ll never make it drink.” It’s impressive to watch Garrack work; even in rubber sleeves, her grip never trembles, never slips. In the same position, Shirayuki can barely close a fist, but Garrack’s got the same dexterity in the hood as she does out of it. “Good thing you get paid regardless.”
Shirayuki flushes, heat pricking at her pride. “I’m not worried about that.”
“No, I wouldn’t think you are,” Garrack murmurs. “I’m just saying it’s nice. Salaried, with room and board to boot.”
Her frown falls further, flirting with a glower. “I’m aware that I’m in the unique position of not having to care in an official capacity if he bothers to come back. But personally--” her breath catches, stomach doing one, solid somersault-- “I do. I want him to want this.”
Garrack hums, not an agreement or judgement, but an acknowledgement. Tactic permission to proceed.
“Izana wants me to tells him to climb into a jeager, to use my-- our personal connection to manipulate him into the cockpit, regardless of what his personal feelings are.” Her breath rushes from her lungs, suddenly ragged, frayed at either end. “No, encourage. That’s what he told me. That it’s my job to do it for humanity.”
One thick eyebrow arches under Garrack’s cap, her eyes bright with interest. “And how do you feel about that?”
It’s strange being on the other side of this question, to be the analyzed instead of the analyzer. She squirms, teeth worrying at her lip, mind racing with possibilities.
“C’mon now,” Garrack chides, mouth hooking into a smirk. She picks up her rack, rattling the small tubes in their holes. “I gave you those for a reason. Idle hands are the devil’s playground, you know-- at least, that’s what people say when they’re afraid of what you’ll get up to if you start thinking.”
She tosses her a wink, ejecting the tip of her pipette into the trash before fitting on another. “Too bad they don’t know that drudgery clears your mind. Have all my best ideas when I’ve got a sharpie and a hundred two-mils to get through. So come on--” she grins, all conspiracy-- “tell me. What do you think of our illustrious leader’s idea?”
Her teeth click shut around her first opinion-- saying Izana Wisteria should go suck eggs would not only please Garrack far too much, but would be around the rest of the base by morning. The last thing she needs is the Marshal inviting her into his office and reading that off one of his hundreds of emails. “...Think that’s beyond my professional scope to comment on.”
“Oh please.” Garrack waves her off, one rubber arm flailing behind the glass. “I’m not asking you to issue a formal complaint about the marshal’s policies. I want to know if you think that kid should get in that steel coffin and kick the closest kaiju in whatever passes for their balls. If throwing another body at the breach is what’s best for humanity.”
“I...”
It shouldn’t be. There’s more rangers on this base than jaegers to fit them; one career pilot pulling back to fill the ranks shouldn’t be more than a drop in the bucket, a chair to fill. But this is no ordinary jaeger-- this is Rex Tyrannous, the most advanced piece of machinery to roll out of a PPDC facility before or since. Rebuilt from the same blueprint as the Mark I, reconfigured with the best technology the Mark III could offer, the Mark IV’s older, more deadly brother, and--
And the money for it hadn’t come out of Defense Corps coffers. No matter how many hopefuls washed up at the dome, the King of Kaijus wouldn’t come out of its box for anyone less than a Wisteria, not as long as at least one was still standing.
“Yes.” She spits the word out like poison, but still she feels unclean. “There’s no one else that can do what he needs to.”
Garrack’s mouth twists in a wry curve. “Then there you go.”
“It’s a conflict of interest!” Shirayuki insists, the sharpie in her hand shaking as she tries to form a 4. “If there was anyone on this base that had the credentials, I’d-- I’d put in the referral myself. He deserves someone that’s impartial--”
“Shirayuki.” With exaggerated care, Garrack pulls her arms from the hood, letting her hands fall down to her lap. “Do you think there is a single soul in this dome who could do the math you did and not be partial?”
Her mouth works, opening once, twice, before settling shut with a snick.
“I didn’t hire you because you lacked bias.” Garrack’s voice pitches low, softer than she’s ever heard her, knuckles white where they clasp her knees . “You wrote a paper about PTSD in rangers that lost a partner in the drift. A paper, might I add, that showed a great deal of knowledge in jaeger production and use. The sort of thing no one learns unless they’ve been locked up under a dome for years before being released in the wild.”
It’s not an accusation, not yet, but Shirayuki’s hands still anyway, clammy beneath latex.
“Because of that useless wall, we’re years behind in jaeger production. We need new mechs, and Rex Tyrannous is the best model we got left, whether it’s been sitting in its box for half a decade or not. ” She settles back, brow arched. “But I don’t need to tell you that, now do I?”
No. Her fingers clench hard around the sharpie. She doesn’t.
“Shirayuki, I know you’re a good kid, but you do get to be selfish sometimes.” Garrack grins, too pleased at the prospect. “You’re human, just like the rest of us. There’s no one who doesn’t have skin in this game.”
“I know,” she murmurs. “But it’s my job to do what’s best for him as my patient, not just--”
Garrack snorts. “Oh, is the discontinuation of the human race not going to affect him?”
Shirayuki frowns, opening her mouth to-- well, to say something quelling, no doubt. But-- “Oh.”
Garrack hunches over her lap, forearms braced on her thighs. “I know the Wisterias put on a good show of being gods, but they’re flesh and blood like the rest of us. It doesn’t do anyone good for them to sit out the apocalypse. Not even themselves.”
“But, I...” She sets the tubes down, gloves crinkling into fists. “I don’t know what happened in the drift, just what the readouts said. It could have been a failure on Obi’s side just as much as his, and if they’re not compatible--”
“Then just ask him,” Garrack sighs, swiveling back toward the hood. “You don’t need to try to read minds.”
“But he’s not talking--”
“Not that Wisteria prick.” She chucks her chin toward the door, toward the vague direction of the dome beyond. “The other one. Seems like the real problem there might be getting him to stop talking.”
“Obi?” She blinks. He’s friendly, sure, but she wouldn’t say he’s been one to volunteer information.
“If that’s the one that’s down here every other day, talking my ears off with Suzu, then yes.” One rubber arm flails at her through the glass. “Now get out of here, and get those two little shits inside their tuna can before a Cat 5 can make it down the coast and make us regret it.”
When she steps into the hall, Shirayuki has every intention of following Garrack’s advice. It’s solid, after all; in a two-sided problem where one solution makes itself unavailable, the obvious answer is the best approach-- especially when in this labyrinth of a dome, there’s only so many places where he can hide.
She stops by the mess for a peace offering. Obi might be disposed to be friendly toward her at the moment, but she knows all too well how far good will will get her if she’s going to start rummaging around in things he’d rather keep cooped up behind that smile. Quality coffee and some contraband cookies might not mend the bridges she burns, but it’ll at least keep them standing while she’s walking over it.
It’s a good plan, a solid plan; she just doesn’t anticipate the company.
“Shirayuki.” Dark circles ring dark eyes, but Mitsuhide smiles just as warm as he always does, sprawled stiffly on the bench. “It’s good to see you.”
“I should be saying the same thing!” she gasps, her and her tea sliding in across from him at the formica table. “I thought you’d be out...” in your tuna can.
She bites her cheek, just hard enough to keep the words from spilling out. Sometimes she really, truly wishes she didn’t listen to Garrack quite as much; her mouth and Garrack’s words made a volatile mix. The sort that would get her a dishonorable discharge, if she weren’t a civilian-- or careful.
“We were. I mean, I was. Both Kiki and myself.” His body twists with a good, solid shake, eyes clearing. “Sorry, just had to exorcise the ghost. You know how it is.”
She doesn’t, but she does. There’s papers on the subject; reams of them-- Longevity of neural imprints in active rangers had been a favorite when she’d been in undergrad, as well as the far more entertaining, Ghost Drifting: How does one leave a ghost while still alive? It’s still novel to witness it, to see that spectral presence cling to the neural stem so long after--
“We just got back a little while ago.” He shifts, his right leg stretching long across the floor, knee bucking stiffly. “Kiki hit the rack, but I needed to, ah, take a walk.”
That’s his-- his good leg, as Kiki likes to call it, the half of him that becomes Redwood Dancer to pair with her left. That’s what makes them first line defense, even in an older Mark III; Kiki’s a real lefty, not one made by the drift. When Dancer throws a punch, both sides come full powered.
That’s what you get being the best of the best, Zen would say, envy and wistfulness thickening his voice, everyone knows they can count on you to serve.
That seems less like a good thing as Shirayuki sits across from it, watching the shadows shift in Mitsuhide’s eyes.
“Did you see it?” she asks, voice a whisper in the cavernous lair of the mess. “The kaiju?”
Mitsuhide grunts, shaking his head. “No, we were kept on standby. Got there after some of the boys in Hong Kong did, and they handled it.”
He doesn’t offer how well; she doesn’t ask.
“Ah,” she hums instead, hunching over her mug. “So it was out that way?”
“When they get that far down, yeah.” One of his large fingers wraps around the handle of his mug, bringing it to his mouth for a long, steady drag. “Not many wander out this way.”
“Alaska--”
“Yeah, there’s a few up north, and I think Seattle always has a good sweat when that happens, but...” His brows furrow, just a small wrinkle in the center of his forehead. “Not so much down here. Not anymore.”
Her palms press against warm ceramic, lips curling into a thin smile. “I guess we don’t have what they want. Whatever that is.”
His mouth gives a wryly twitch. “Thank God for small blessings.”
It would be nice to let the silence between them mellow, to allow herself a companionable respite after swallowing around her heart for half a day, but--
But there are things that won’t keep, no matter how much she’d like to set them aside, set them down even for just a moment. “Mitsuhide...”
He stiffens, the way a dog does when it hears its name shouted in the key of trouble. There’s two ways to respond to conflict, they used to say, fight or flight; years later they added freeze with as begrudging a reception as any change to common wisdom was given. But Mitsuhide does none of those; he just hunkers, eyes warm and dark and wary when they meet hers, hedged by hunched shoulders. The sort of man who grew up in a place where natural disasters are weathered in bathtubs and basements, or else watched from afar on front porches.
“I meant to talk to you.” Her fingers knit into the natural ridges of her mug; the only way to keep them from trembling. “After...after. I mean, not this, but before. The, um...”
It’s ridiculous how many calamities can cluster in a few hours. She’ll need to start numbering them to keep them all straight.
“The drift,” he rasps wearily. “Zen's talked about it with you, hasn’t he?”
Her mouth works; her duty to her profession says to keep it shut, to keep her patient’s business confidential, but her duty as a member of the human race, of a species that is growing more endangered by the year-- “He skipped his session.”
Shirayuki couldn’t have moved him if she hit him, but this rocks him back in his seat. “I’d been hoping...” He shakes his head, mouth curling into a rueful smile. “I thought I’d be the one trying to work something out of you.”
“Ah.” She bows her head, watching the leaves swirl in her tea. “So you haven’t had any luck either?”
Her shakes his head, disappointment stark in every sway. “He won’t talk about it. After he got out of the hanger he went and locked himself in his rack. He only agreed to come to the mess if we promised to drop the whole thing.”
Shirayuki winces. “I’d normally never ask, but when he didn’t show up to our usual appointment...”
Mitsuhide lets out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “I don’t know why he’d do that. I’d give some of my teeth to let someone else listen to my head sometimes.”
She blinks. “You’re always welcome, if you wanted to.”
“No.” His mouth rucks up in a rueful curve. “I really couldn’t.”
“But--”
“The thing they don’t tell you before you get into that cockpit is--” he takes a deep breath, the air emptying out the tension in his shoulders-- “is that the second you hit the drift, all your secrets aren’t your own anymore.”
“Oh.” The drift is two minds laid bare to one another, the deepest form of trust, but in all her studies, she’d never thought what that meant. How tangled and deep a mind could become in things that weren’t theirs to know, weren’t their secrets to carry. “Can I ask you something?”
His eyebrows ruffle up an inch, curious. “Of course. Anything I can answer.”
“When you first came to the dome, you were...” Shirayuki bites her lips, considering. “You were Zen’s copilot. But then Kiki came...”
The PPDC might be the one that’s stamped on the letterhead, but the Wisterias are the spine of the jeager project as well as its face. Their neural net stretches far and wide through the Corp’s hierarchies, fingers in every pie, and although Zen might not be in the upper echelons of leadership, the sort of state secrets someone might glean from the casual details rattling around in his head...
Well, it’s a good thing the Seirans were just as entrenched.
“Why did you do it?” she asks finally, though it’s miles away from what she means. “Why change when you already...?”
“Ah, well...” Mitsuhide’s shoulders heave awkwardly. “It was an emergency, at first, and then...I don’t know how to explain it. We just fit. Not that I didn’t with Zen, but this was...”
He hesitates, smile edging towards a kind of self-deprecation that doesn’t quite fit him. “It was different. If that makes sense.”
“It doesn’t,” she admits. Not to her, at least, someone who has never been in a cockpit, who has never drifted over a set of pons and tried to make a connection. But to someone who has, who has spent the last half decade rotating through a list of hopefuls and throwing them all in the trash-- “But I think...maybe it could.”
Shirayuki would love to say that she’s experienced a perception shift, that a few words with Mitsuhide gave her a clarity that she needs to pore over before acting on, but the fact of it is-- she’s too anxious to approach Obi, pure and simple.
Not that he’s given her much cause; he’s scarce after that failure of a drift, but his absence lacks the marked purpose of Zen’s. It’s hard to find anyone after an attack; everyone’s on high alert, hypervigilant, waiting for another call to come like an aftershock. It’s never happened before, but to assume that means a double event is out of the question--
Well, humanity stopped making assumptions about what lurked beneath the Pacific the day Trespasser ripped the Golden Gate off its moorings.
She catches a glimpse of him every once and a while, always going the wrong way but with a smile to share before he disappears. He’s not avoiding her, he’s avoiding everyone else, and she’s just too much of a cog in the dome’s machinery to not be a casualty of it. It’s nothing personal, she’s sure, but with all the people giving her a wide berth lately, it’s hard not to feel that his absence is pointed.
Still, there are things that just won’t keep. She can’t just keep avoiding this because she’s afraid of one more rejection.
And that’s how she finds herself in the middle of the dome’s combat room, on the business end of Obi’s smirk.
“Doc,” he hums, kicking the end of his staff up to yoke his neck. He makes it look easy, like the jo is an extension of him rather than a separate piece. She can’t help but think of what he might do with a hundred tons of jeager strapped to him, how easy he might make it move. “Funny seeing you here.”
She nods, rocking on her toes. “It’s been a while.”
He swaggers toward her, stopping barely an arm’s length away, hip cocked. Sweat dews along every inch of him, his tank damp and clinging to the hard planes of his stomach, tighter than the lycra in her own gear. His pants swing low, leaving a sliver of skin between it and his shirt, and she--
She should really be looking elsewhere. He’s not a giant, not like Mitsuhide, but when she looks up, it’s a long way to meet his eyes. They’re laughing at her when she does.
“You’re not gonna get anything out of me, you know,” he says as if he’d like to see her try; a challenge rather than a defense. “What happens in the drift stays in the drift.”
Her mouth works; this time stuck less on the sweat crawling over his skin and more on how quickly she’s been made. “I didn’t say I was going to.”
“You had the look.” He shifts, hips drawing her gaze with them. When she glances back up, he seems to find that funny too. “Besides, why else would you come in here? Most shrinks I meet aren’t, hm, combat ready.”
“I-I work out!”
His eyebrows raise, mouth following suit. “That so?”
She flexes arm, baring what, in her humble opinion, is no small bicep. Kiki might have her beat, but in K-science terms she’s practically buff. “See?”
Obi slinks close, hunching over, jo and all, to give her offering a good squint. With a hum she’d like to think is at least mildly impressed, he straightens, suddenly so close she can smell the sweat on him and the faint whiff of his deodorant.
“Well then, I stand corrected.” His smile stretches Cheshire-wide as he steps aside, sweeping out a hand. “Don’t let me stop you.”
Shirayuki peers past him, fighting to keep the grimace from her face. She works out, sure, but more along the lines of slow and low. Yoga. Tai chi. Pilates. Things that promote mind and body balance. But even in the gym, all the equipment is meant for bulking muscle, for building the sort of bodies that can bear up a skyscraper. And the combat room...
Well the only equipment here is the jo in their rack and the tatami on the floor. This isn’t for people looking to do a pull up, it’s for rangers looking to spar.
“Tell you what, Doc,” Obi says, no small amount of amusement or pity in his voice. “I could use a cool down.”
His jo whips down from his shoulders, lightning fast, hands thrusting out in the air, and she--
Her hand rises to match, catching the jo mid-air. She sags under it, a little heavier than she expected from a stick that size, but keeps her feet under her. She glances back at Obi, wide-eyed, but he just lifts his brows, impressed. “How about we go a round, you and me?”
It’s a normal request-- maybe not to her, but the rangers certainly aren’t shy about taking conversations to the tatami. But Obi’s voice does something with it, pushes it down into a register that feels more mattress than mat, and she shivers as she lets the jo drop more naturally into her grip. “Me?”
“Well, I really thought you wouldn’t catch it.” His chin juts toward her staff. “But it looks like you at least know how to hold it.”
Her finger flex around the wood, settling against its smooth surface. “I’ve done it once or twice.”
A half dozen years ago, but he doesn’t need to know that.
His mouth twitches. “Great.”
Obi’s not a mountain of a man, not like Mitsuhide, but when he falls into stance, he could make himself one. It would take an earthquake to move him, and she has the world’s smallest lever. “Come at me.”
Shirayuki shuffles awkwardly on the mat, twisting the jo to rest on both her hands. It feels like she’s got two left ones holding it-- neither one of them are as good as Kiki’s-- but muscle serves her better than memory. Center yourself, Grampa told her, yanking her chest above her hips, feel the earth come to meet you. You’ll be part of it one day, and it’s ready.
Morbid, but it works. Her spine jolts into a straight line, weight teetering between her feet, and she takes her swing.
Obi doesn’t try to dodge. He could-- even in that split second, his muscles twitch, goading him to flee-- but he just raises his staff, a jolt she feels right down to her shoulders. The puny clack echoes in her ears. It’s nothing even close to how him and Zen were sparring.
“Go ahead.” He shifts his weight as she recovers, bracing himself. “Again.”
Right. Her feet flatten against the mat-- or at least they try to, pressing instead against the foam of her sneakers. Her sneakers that she’s still wearing, since she came in here thinking there would be an elliptical, or weights, or not this.
That won’t do at all. She toes them off, setting them at the edge of the tatami, the only spectators to her impending humiliation.
She hesitates, fingers peeling socks over her heels. Obi’s already said she won’t get any information out of him; she doesn’t need to do this. She could walk away right now, and the only consequence would be his teasing. And yet--
And yet, Shirayuki walks back, feet grounding against the weave beneath them. The jo settles between her hands. Obi grins.
When she moves again, it’s with more confidence, memory fueling her strike. He catches it again, but this time it doesn’t rattle her. At least, not until he moves too, viper fast, and then she’s scrambling again. She’s no noodle-armed K-science geek, no matter what Obi might say, but when she thrusts her staff up overhead to meet his swing, her arms tremble, teeth jangling in her mouth.
Obi retreats, amusement clinging to his lips, and she huffs. Maybe she can’t take the same sort of beating Kiki can, but she isn’t about to be some pushover.
She comes at him again, lower this time, on the outside. He’s not prepared-- she can tell the way his eyes widen-- but reflexes smooth his response, drawing her back with a few of his own strikes, and then--
Then it’s just trading blows. Not like his spar with Zen; he’s too skilled and she’s too inexperienced for this to be anything but a planned draw, for him to do anything but go easy on her. But still, still-- there’s a strange electricity every time they meet, more than just their jo rising to meet each other, an anticipation--
Obi steps back, brow furrowed. “Hm.”
Shirayuki’s panting, drenched, and he’s barely broken a sweat. “Is something wrong?”
It certainly doesn’t feel wrong to her.
“N-no.” He plucks her jo from her grip, the swagger gone from his hips as he mounts it on the wall beside his. “Just. Interesting.”
“Interesting?” she prompts hopefully.
Obi shrugs, like there’s an itch between his shoulders. “Did you need anything else, Doc?”
“I...” She bites down on the impulse to ask, to demand to know if he felt it too. “No. I should, um. Get going.”
“Nowhere to go but people to see, huh?” he laughs, but it’s weaker than his usual, stilted.
“Yeah,” she breathes, turning away. “Something like that.”
We just fit, Mitsuhide said with that strange look on his face, a yearning she knows now. If that makes sense.
“Obi?” Even to her own ears, her voice sounds distant, like it’s coming from another mouth, not her own. Maybe it’s just because she’s bent in half, working cotton over sweaty toes. Maybe it’s because it feels like she’s only working with half a body.
His head swivels, chin peeking over his shoulder. “Yeah, Doc?”
“It wasn’t you, was it?” He blinks, head tilting with confusion, and she clarifies, “It wasn’t your failure.”
His breath tumbles from his like wind over water; she swears she can feel the ripples of it even where she stands. “No,” he says, so soft it’s nearly lost over the rattle of the vents. “Not yet.”
The static fizzles on her skin, belly rocking as she bends to slip on her sneakers, and oh, Mitsuhide’s words might not have made sense before, but--
But she’s worried they’re starting to now.
#obiyuki#akagami no shirayukihime#snow white with the red hair#pacific rim au#my fic#this chapter ended up being much more of a beast than i thought#and this is WITH some scenes getting moved to next chapter for like...SPACE#but that's pretty much what took this so long#trying to rearrange this to cover some of the big points that HAD to be covered by Shirayuki POV#so that this was only like...6K instead of 8K and double the chapter length of any one before it#DEEP SIGH#this is a hobby i choose to do for fun
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Centre Stage chapter 11
Many, many thanks as ever to the wonderful @willow-salix for her patience while I swore repeatedly about this and for her amazing betaing skills that then knocked it into shape.
As always, it’s also available on AO3 here.
*******************************
Pausing for a second to centre himself, Scott pushed all thoughts of the rescue to the back of his mind, carefully tucking them away to deal with another day. It had only been a matter of hours since he had last been there to drop his bags off before going to meet Cat, but it somehow felt like a lifetime ago.
Taking a deep breath, he slid the key card into the lock and pushed the door open. A blur of movement caught his eye as he stepped into the room, and he just had enough time to brace himself when Cat launched herself at him, flinging her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder.
Not sure what he had done to deserve such a welcome, he let the door slam shut behind him, grabbing her and pulling her into him, the warmth of her body beginning to counter the chill that had been bothering him since he had left the rescue site in the Alps an hour before.
“You’re freezing,” she shrieked, clearly thinking twice about her actions as she tried to wriggle out of his grip.
“Yup, but you’re nice and warm,” he responded, tightening his grip to prevent her from escaping and taking all her nice body heat with her. Usually, the adrenaline from a rescue was enough to keep him warm until a hot shower in the hangars back on the island could take over and heat him through but this time, the cold seemed to have permeated his bones and he wasn’t sure he would ever feel warm again.
Knowing that he was far too strong for her to escape from without resorting to underhand tactics, Cat softened, leaning into him and lulling him into a false sense of security as she slid a hand up under his jumper, his soft skin cool to her touch.
“Distraction isn’t going to help you,” Scott tried to inform her, the small sigh that he let out as she gently ran her nails down his back suggesting otherwise.
“I wouldn’t dream of distracting you,” Cat purred as he dipped down to kiss her softly. “I just thought of something that could help you warm up a bit.”
“I’m listening...”
“Well, they always say that exercise is good for that sort of thing,” Cat breathed, struggling to maintain her composure as he trailed kisses down her neck.
“They certainly do,” Scott murmured. “And what kind of exercise did you have in mind exactly?”
“This!” Cat cried, finding the base of his ribs and tickling him mercilessly as he yelped in surprise, struggling to get away while she hung on as best she could, his infectious laughter making her giggle helplessly.
Breaking free, Scott launched himself towards the bed, grabbing a pillow and lobbing it at her to stop the onslaught.
“Not fair,” he complained, his smile undermining the sincerity of his protests.
“What? It got you moving and I bet you’re not as cold any more,” Cat defended, trying not to laugh at his wounded expression as she held another pillow up as a shield, ready to defend herself in case of further attacks.
“You might have a point there,” Scott admitted, realising that he no longer felt quite so chilled. “But still, I call bullshit on those tactics. I can think of plenty of better ways to warm up.”
“I bet you can,” Cat agreed, raising an eyebrow and giving him a wink. “But you’re going to have to satisfy yourself with this for now I’m afraid. I ordered some dinner for you which’ll be here soon, and I think a nice hot shower would be much more effective in the longer term.”
“Spoilsport,” Scott grumbled good naturedly as he picked another pillow off the bed and half heartedly chucked it in Cat’s direction as she made her way back over to him. “Hello by the way.”
“Hello,” Cat murmured as she wound her arms around his neck, lifting herself up on her tiptoes to ghost a kiss over his lips. “Glad you’re back.”
“Me too,” Scott murmured, dropping his forehead down to meet hers as the stresses of the preceding hours seemed to vanish. “Thanks for ordering some dinner for me. I’m famished.”
“I thought you might be,” Cat smiled, glad that she’d been able to provide at least a little help. “It’s nothing massively exciting but it’s hot and nourishing so it’ll do you good. You still feel cold though so you should get that shower.”
“I think I might,” Scott agreed, feeling the chill beginning to inch back into his consciousness as they stood quietly together.
“Off you go then,” Cat encouraged, dropping her arms and smacking him smartly on the ass as she moved away to pick up the scattered pillows. “Get yourself all nice and warm and then you can tell me all about the rescue when you're done.”
Something in the tone of her voice made Scott look up in alarm. Watching his reaction, there was a shrewdness in her eyes that he was sure hadn’t been there just moments earlier, making him wonder what she was thinking. Looking away quickly, he grabbed his clothes from the wardrobe and hurried into the bathroom, keen to get away from her unwavering gaze that seemed to strip him bare without even trying.
Watching him go, Cat shook her head slightly. It was no wonder she hadn’t picked up on anything being wrong, she thought. He had seemed his usual self right up until she mentioned the rescue, and even then, if she hadn’t been looking for it, she doubted she’d even have spotted the momentary discomfort that skittered across his face before he returned it to its usual calm.
Her conversation with Selene had turned up a lot of surprises, none of which were pleasant, but what had shaken her the most was how well he had hidden them from her. Trust was so fundamental to her that discovering that he had been hiding things had sent a flash of anger through her, but the hour she’d had to let the revelations sink in had allowed her the space to realise that there was a world of difference between lying and simply neglecting to mention things.
Well, he wasn’t going to get away with doing either, she thought, as she straightened the bed back out and picked up her book. She was going to make damn sure he was honest with her about what was happening because this time, he had no choice. She already knew.
-x-
“Feeling better?” Cat asked as Scott pushed his plate away, having made short work of the burger that had been waiting for him when he had gotten out of shower.
“Much,” he smiled as he pushed his chair back, pausing to give her a grateful kiss before flopping down onto the small sofa that sat in a corner of the room. “Thanks again for this,” he added, gesturing back to his empty plate. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’d be colder and hungrier, that’s for sure,” Cat laughed, settling herself beside him and handing him the glass of water that he’d left on the table. “But you’d also be on a tropical island right now too, so maybe the cold wouldn’t have been such an issue.”
“That’s a fair point,” Scott agreed, taking a sip before putting the glass on the little table beside him. “I think I’d rather be here though.”
“I bet you would,” Cat replied, one eyebrow raised. Her tone was teasing, but when Scott met her eyes, he felt a shiver of apprehension run through him although he wasn’t entirely sure why. “So, how was the rescue?”
Cat had determinedly kept the conversation on neutral topics while he ate, keen for Scott to have at least a little downtime before he was faced with questions that she knew he would find uncomfortable, but now there was nothing to stop her. As the evening had worn on, her initial anger at finding that she had been left in the dark had subsided more and more, replaced by a desire to help in any way that she could, even if that was just letting him know that he was supported.
“It was fine,” Scott replied, finding himself strangely unable to meet her gaze even though he knew her eyes were on him, hating the secrecy that he was having to maintain.
“Just ‘fine’?” Cat pressed, trying to give him the chance to open up to her by himself. “You usually have a lot more than that to tell me when you get home. I assume you managed to get everyone OK?”
“Yeah, it was pretty simple in the end,” Scott confirmed, risking a quick glance up at her before looking around for something to fiddle with but coming up empty.
“So how did you do it? Was it hard to work out the best course of action? C’mon, Scott, you’re usually full of stories when you tell me about these sorts of things. Did something happen?”
“No, nothing like that,” Scott reassured her with a sigh, trying to buy himself some time as he picked his next words carefully. “By the time we got there, Dad had already been in touch with the authorities, so it was just a case of following the plan that they’d come up with and getting the climbers to hospital. Nothing more exciting than that.”
“If there were only a couple of them to rescue and it was that simple then it doesn’t seem like they needed you at all,” Cat observed, watching him carefully to see how her words landed.
“Maybe,” Scott conceded. “But it’s always better to be overmanned than find you need an extra pair of hands halfway through.”
“I guess so,” Cat mused, frustrated that she could see the logic in the argument despite knowing that they’d managed perfectly well when Scott had been on leave in the past.
“I know it was annoying today, but I can see why Dad wanted me there,” Scott bluffed, trying to disguise his discomfort by taking her hand and placing a soft kiss on her knuckle, attempting to smooth things over so they could move onto a safer subject. “You never know if a situation might change so it does make sense.”
“That's true, but don’t you usually wait til you get to the rescue site to make plans rather than finalise everything before you’re there?” Cat continued, watching him closely as she focussed on the inconsistencies in what he was saying based on how she knew they’d always worked in the past.
She could see in his eyes that he didn’t believe what he’d just said and wasn’t fooled by his bid to distract her. With the benefit of her new knowledge, it seemed painfully obvious that he was covering for Jeff, but instead of anger, the only question in her mind was why he wasn’t willing to tell her what had been happening and allow her to help.
“That’s how we did it before, but we didn’t have the benefit of Dad’s experience then, so things have changed a bit over the last few months,” Scott answered smoothly, wondering what had happened that made him so able to defend actions that, in all honesty, he was deeply unhappy about.
“And how do you feel about that?”
“It’s fine,” Scott dismissed, finding it very difficult to look at her as he found himself caught between his loyalty to his dad and the commitment he’d made to be completely honest.
When Cat didn’t answer immediately, he allowed himself a moment to hope that he’d gotten away with it for now. He knew he was going to have to tell her what was going on at some point and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to seek her support, but she had been so stressed about her upcoming performance that he hadn’t wanted to burden her with it until it was over.
Rolling his shoulders to release some of the tension, he felt the silence stretching between them in a way that it hadn’t before. It wasn’t their usual comfortable quiet, and he could see from Cat’s expression that her brain was working overtime.
She knows, a little voice in his head supplied unhelpfully, sending a cold rush of dread through him.
She never normally pushed him for information about rescues, but his guilty conscience knew exactly what she’d been getting at by the questions she was asking. He hated lying to her, but his loyalty to his dad was absolute and he couldn’t bring himself to actually admit what was happening. Not after pouring his heart out to her about his hopes for the future on the last night they were together before their fathers rescue from the Oort cloud.
“What did John mean earlier when he mentioned your dad?” Cat asked, changing tactics and going for the direct approach.
“Nothing,” Scott snapped, looking up in alarm as he made a last-ditch effort to avoid telling her what had been happening. The expression on Cat’s face didn’t inspire him with confidence that his plan would work, her raised eyebrow daring him to come clean.
“Really? Cos the way you reacted didn’t make it seem like nothing.”
Scott sighed, suddenly feeling very, very tired. “It really was nothing. Can we drop this?”
“No, we can’t,” Cat replied sharply, her refusal to leave it taking him by surprise. She didn’t challenge him often, but he’d discovered to his cost that when she did, resistance was futile as she was always holding a trump card of some sort. “I don’t believe you, and I know for a fact that there’s stuff here that you’re not telling me.”
“And how do you know that exactly?” Scott bristled, hating the fact that he was being called out but hating even more that he’d done something to deserve it.
“I spoke to Selene.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh,” Cat replied, doing her best to keep her voice steady as anger that it had come to this surged through her. “I’m your girlfriend, Scott, not some random person you hooked up with. When we agreed to make a go of this, we promised not to keep anything from each other, so you need to stop shutting me out. We’re supposed to be a team. I should not have to resort to calling Selene to find out what’s been happening.”
“You’re right,” he whispered, his head dropping as a wave of shame washed over him at the lengths that he’d driven her to by trying to protect his dad and maintain that everything was OK. “I’m sorry,” he added as he met her eyes, expecting them to be full of anger but instead only finding love and compassion.
Cat’s anger had evaporated the second she saw him visibly deflate as her words hit home, and by the time he looked back up at her, she was calm again, wanting only to help in any way she could. Needing a physical connection between them, she shuffled along the sofa, tucking herself in next to him and wrapping her arms around him, pulling him into her as she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.
“I might not be able to solve anything,” she whispered softly, resting her head against his, relieved to find him leaning back into her, “but I can listen.”
In fits and starts, the whole story poured out. Cat listened in quiet sympathy as Scott confirmed what Selene had already told her about how they had all been slowly pushed aside, their professional opinion counting for nothing against Jeff’s, leaving his role hollowed out and reduced to the barest bones. Feeling the frustration rolling off him, it took everything in her power to stop herself from interjecting and voicing her opinions on the matter as he described the times he had been forced to defer to someone who didn’t have the experience of their new equipment and protocols that he did, slowly eroding his love for what he did, leaving him trapped in his duty to his family and unwillingness to challenge his dad.
“I just never expected it to go like this when he got back,” he admitted quietly when he was done, sagging into her as she rubbed gentle circles on his back.
“I know, but there’s no shame in admitting that things haven't gone the way you thought they would,” Cat replied reasonably, giving him a squeeze for support.
“I just didn’t want to let anyone down,” he sighed, sitting back and taking a sip of water before continuing. “I didn’t want to worry you either. You’ve been so stressed about these shows coming up that I didn’t want to burden you with it all.”
“I can understand that, and I do appreciate that you were thinking of me, even if it was a bit misplaced,” Cat reassured him as she shifted to face him, draping her legs over his lap.
“Truth is, it all started so slowly that I wasn’t even really aware of it,” Scott continued, wanting to give her some explanation as to why he hadn’t been honest with her about it from the start. “It was just little annoyances that didn’t seem worth mentioning that eventually built up into a big annoyance that’s been there in the background for a while. By the time it reached that stage, it seemed a bit late to tell you about it and I guess I thought I’d be able to handle it without you knowing.”
“And you were nearly right,” Cat smiled, stifling a yawn that she’d been trying to hold in for the last five minutes. “If it wasn’t for your reaction to the callout earlier, I still wouldn’t have picked up on it. Not yet anyway. But when you were a bit funny about talking about it, I started thinking back over things and a lot of stuff pointed to there being an issue there that you weren’t wanting to discuss.”
“You’re like a bloody bloodhound when you get a sniff of something being wrong,” Scott remarked fondly. “One of these days I’ll learn that it’s pointless trying to keep anything from you.”
“It sure is, especially cos you’ve got Selene to contend with too. You might as well just accept that you’ve got two people here who love you and who are gonna work together to make sure you’re OK.”
“It certainly seems that way,” Scott agreed with a wry smile as Cat yawned again. “I think it might be getting towards someone’s bedtime.”
“I think you might be right there,” Cat smiled, spinning herself around and using Scott’s leg as a hand hold to shove herself off the sofa. “C’mon then, you joining me?”
“Try and stop me,” Scott grinned as Cat started peeling the covers back, the soft bed looking very enticing. “It’s been a long night all round.”
Exhaustion hit him as he finished the sentence, and a face splitting yawn was only moments behind, making Cat giggle. As they got themselves ready, he realised just how long a day it had been, starting on the island before taking in the sights of St Petersburg, a rescue and a difficult but necessary conversation.
“I’m so sorry, I kept you up and I haven’t even asked about how you’re feeling about tomorrow,” Scott apologised, as they stood together in the bathroom, fighting for space at the sink to do their teeth.
“Don’t be stupid,” Cat mumbled through a mouthful of toothbrush before taking it out so she could continue unencumbered. “There'll be plenty of time in the morning for me to tell you all about how I’m feeling, don’t you worry about that.”
“But I wanted tonight to be about you and what you’re about to achieve tomorrow and all that’s gone now,” he objected, struggling to shake the feeling of selfishness that was creeping over him.
“You needed this tonight and to be honest, so did I,” Cat told him firmly, rinsing her toothbrush and dropping it back into the cup that she’d designated for the purpose. “You know what I’m like. I couldn’t have focussed tomorrow if you hadn’t been honest tonight, so thank you. I love you and if something is bothering you then I need you to tell me.”
“Well, if you’re sure.”
“Absolutely. We can start again tomorrow, so let's get some sleep and if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll be the focus of all your attention in the morning,” Cat reassured him with a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving him in the bathroom to finish up before he could answer.
Dozing off later with Cat held securely in his arms, he realised that she was right. Even though he hadn’t wanted to talk about it, it had been the best thing for both of them, leaving his mind at peace for the first time in what felt like months. They were a team, and a smile crept over his face as he remembered that he had something very important to ask her in the morning.
-x-
“Surprise,” Scott cried with barely contained glee, flinging his arm out to direct her attention to his handiwork.
Peering through the cloud of steam from the shower that she’d just unleashed into the room, Cat took in the scene before her. The previously empty table was groaning under the weight of plates, each covered in a silver dome to keep whatever mysteries they contained hot. A large coffee pot and big jugs of water and orange juice completed the feast.
“There’s so much! This is amazing,” Cat exclaimed, hurrying over to investigate as Scott began uncovering the plates, revealing portions of all her favourite breakfast items.
“Don’t worry if you can’t eat it all though,” Scott added, taking the opportunity to place a kiss on her cheek on his way past as he continued to bustle around, wanting to make sure everything was perfect before settling down to eat. “I didn’t want you to go short and I wasn’t sure what the portion sizes were like, so I decided to treat it like our own personal buffet and just get a bit of everything.”
“Aww, thank you, that’s very thoughtful,” Cat smiled, “What made you decide to do all of this?”
“Well, I know you don’t like to eat very much before a show, so I wanted to make sure you’re all fuelled up for your big day,” Scott explained, pulling a chair out for her and offering a napkin with a flourish before taking his own seat. “Anyway, I wanted to make up for stealing your limelight last night so I thought this could be a nice way to start the day together instead of going down to the restaurant with everyone else.”
Cat couldn’t help but smile. His thoughtfulness astounded her every time and even though he had nothing to make up for, she very much appreciated the sentiment as it meant they got more precious time together. Wordlessly, she reached out and cupped his face with her hand, the roughness of the faint stubble on his jaw contrasting with the soft skin under his eye as she gently traced her thumb across it.
A small sigh escaped Scott as he leant into her touch, the worries of the previous days melting away as his eyes closed involuntarily. All he was aware of was the present and the woman in front of him who seemed to know exactly what he needed. Turning his head slightly, he captured her palm with his lips in a gentle kiss as he met her eyes, a smile creeping onto his face at the love he found contained there.
They stayed like that for a moment, transfixed by each other until the smell of bacon and a loud growl from Cat’s stomach finally broke the spell, sending them blinking back into reality. Flashing a smile at him, Cat was the first to move, surveying the feast before grabbing a slice of toast.
“So, how’re you feeling about the show?” Scott asked, breaking the silence as he began piling eggs and bacon onto his plate.
“Nervous,” Cat replied, not even looking up from where she was pouring herself a glass of orange juice. “But it’s Swan Lake so the day I don’t get nervous about dancing it, I’ll probably be dead. That would be like you not having that rush of adrenaline when a rescue gets called in.”
“Fair point,” Scott chuckled, reaching over the table to skewer a sausage with his fork.
“It’s been amazing though,” she added as she slathered a thick layer of butter onto her toast. “Getting to rehearse in the studios where it was first created has been incredible. There’s so much history here. I never thought I’d be lucky enough to do anything like this.”
“You’re not lucky, you’ve worked really hard and you deserve this chance,” Scott told her firmly, not for the first time.
“I don’t know,” Cat replied doubtfully. “I mean, I have worked hard and it’s not like I’ve not danced this before, but you should see the rest of the company, Scott. They’re all so tall and flexible. Their extensions are up around their ears and their port de bras are enormous but they’re also just so expressive. And then there’s little old me.
Cat paused for a moment, taking a sip of her orange juice as she collected her thoughts a bit.
“It’s definitely a style of dancing that’s very different to what I’m used to. And the stage is so big. I can see why they make their movements so huge because otherwise they won’t be seen up at the back of the auditorium but it’s so opposite to how I usually dance. I’ve always liked the little nuances but it feels like I’ve lost a lot of them in the process here.”
“OK, I understood maybe a third of that,” Scott admitted when it seemed like she’d run out of steam, glad to see that she smiled at his response. “But you said before that the steps are the same, so can’t you just do it your way? Surely that’s why they invited you here in the first place?”
“Up to a point, yeah,” Cat conceded. “I’ve had to adapt a bit because of the rake on the stage and just so that the people at the back can see everything but it’s hard not to be intimidated by them.”
“Are they making you feel bad?” Scott bristled, ready to run straight down to the theatre and set a few things straight if he got a hint that anyone was being nasty to her.
“Not at all,” Cat replied, placing a hand on his arm to reassure him. “Everyone’s been lovely and I’ll definitely stay in touch with a few of the girls, but they’re so technically impressive that it’s been hard not to compare myself to them. You only get to the top by being better than everyone else, so it’s drilled into us from a young age to watch and learn from the competition and it’s a hard habit to break, even when you know you’re not in direct competition with them.
“You don’t need to worry about me though,” she continued. “Despite how it sounds, I’ve loved every minute of this, even the challenging ones. What is it you always used to tell me? If you don’t push yourself then you won’t grow.”
“I can’t believe you still remember that,” Scott smiled, remembering all the times he told her those exact words as she worried about whether she was going to manage dancing new and more challenging roles in her early career.
“Of course I do. I tell myself it every time I have to do something that scares me. It’s pretty much become my personal mantra now.”
“Wow,” Scott breathed, feeling strangely touched that something he had said had stayed with her all those years, even after their breakup.
“So, is there anything you’re wanting to do this morning?” Cat asked, cutting through Scott’s reverie.
“Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you about,” he replied, his heart rate shooting up now that the moment had arrived.
“Go on,” Cat encouraged, her interest piqued by the way he had shifted in his seat, sitting up straighter than he had before.
“You know we have a charitable arm of Tracy Industries, don’t you?” Scott started, feeling strangely like he was in the boardroom, making a pitch to a group of investors. Given the nerves that were making his mouth almost unbearably dry, he sort of wished that he was.
Cat nodded in reply, her mouthful of omelette making it impossible to answer properly as she wondered where on earth this was heading.
“Good,” Scott nodded, taking a small sip of water to try and make speaking a little easier. “Well, your conversation with Virgil about funding for dance training, when he was at the theatre with Lily, really stuck with him, and he spoke to me afterwards about whether there was any way in which we could help.”
“OK,” Cat replied warily. She’d never seen Scott in business mode before and the total change in his demeanour from his usual relaxed self to consummate businessman took her by surprise and his formal language made her sit up and take note. It wasn’t that she didn’t know that he must do it at work, but he’d certainly never spoken to her as if he was giving a pitch to investors before and, while she thought she could see where he was going with this, she had no idea what it had to do with her.
“We ran some figures when we got home and, by increasing the budget a little, we reckon we can actually do something to help there.”
“Scott that’s amazing,” she cut in, delighted that her hunch had been right.
A burst of warmth spread across Scott at her response making him smile at the knowledge that, so far, she was pleased with his plan. That definitely boded well for the rest of what he was wanting to ask her.
“So,” he continued, trying to remember the carefully rehearsed pitch that he’d gone over in his head what felt like a million times. “Rather than just giving a one off donation to your old school or setting up a scholarship, we thought it would be better to do something more substantial that would be beneficial to more than one child. With that in mind, we’re planning to set up a charitable foundation that’ll focus on giving the widest range of support we can to young dancers who might not have the chance otherwise.”
“I genuinely don’t know what to say,” Cat choked, her eyes welling up slightly at the thought of the difference she knew something like that could make. “You should speak to Penny about it. She’d be really good at telling you the sort of stuff they might need.”
“Well, we could do that,” Scott continued, unable to stop grinning. “But Virgil and I talked it through and we’d both like you to come on board and help shape what help we can offer.”
“What?” Cat squeaked, her joy turning to terror at the thought of being responsible for such a big thing. “Me? But I don’t know anything about running a business.”
“You don’t have to, I’m not asking you to run it,” Scott soothed, his heart plummeting at the realisation that she wasn’t jumping at the chance like he thought she would. “You’d be there in an advisory role. We’ve spent a lot of time researching things and we think we’ve got a basic grip on it but you’re the expert here. You can shape this thing into whatever it needs to be in order to give the most help to the most kids. What do you say?”
“I don’t know, Scott,” Cat sighed. “I’ve never done anything like this. I don’t think I’d even know where to begin with working out how to make it work.”
“And that’s why I’m here,” Scott encouraged, reaching over the table to take her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll do it together. You tell me what the kids we’re trying to help might need, and I’ll make it happen.”
“Well, I guess it could be OK,” Cat mused, possibilities starting to crowd into her head now that she knew she wasn’t being asked to step entirely out of her comfort zone. “The obvious thing would be some help with fees and uniforms. Oh, and shoes. Shoes are a big one, especially for the girls.”
“See, that's exactly the sort of thing we need you to tell us,” Scott encouraged, letting himself breathe again now that she seemed to be warming up to the idea. “I know you go through a lot of them but I didn’t know it was a problem for everyone.”
“Yeah, you go through them constantly while you’re training too, and they’re not cheap,” Cat replied, her mind working overtime now that she was thinking about it more clearly. “Maybe some coaching for kids if they’re wanting to go to full time ballet school too. It’s not something everyone can afford but it makes so much difference.”
“Again, that’s not something I’d have thought of. You’re a natural at this.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Cat deflected, a tell-tale heat rising on her cheeks at the compliment. “I’m just thinking of what I wish I’d had and going from there.”
“And that’s exactly why we want you to work with us on this,” Scott implored her. “Think of the difference you can make to other kids coming from a similar background to yours.”
“OK,” Cat declared, sitting up straighter and holding out her hand to shake his. “I’m in. I don’t know anything about business and I’ve never done anything like this before, but your old mantra still stands here as well as it does for dancing. If I don’t push myself, I’ll never grow and I’ll always wonder what I could have done if I’d taken this opportunity.”
“It’s a deal,” Scott beamed, taking her hand and shaking it much more vigorously than he’d have dared if it had been a business associate. “Welcome on board, Miss George.”
“Why thank you Mr Tracy,” Cat giggled. “I look forward to working with you.”
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10x17: Home Sweet Home - Details
Alright, let’s talk details!
***As always, spoilers abound below for 10x17. Don’t read until you’ve watched!***
As many have already pointed out, Maggie and Judith talking about the stars and how “she” is looking up at those same stars is interesting. Sirius symbolism, and of course they’re talking about Michonne, but when they use the pronoun, it could be adapted to anyone. Beth, obviously. But even Rick or anyone else who is missing.
I did notice something of a “rule of threes” theme in this episode. Right at the beginning, when loading the wagon, Lydia counts, “one, two, three.” That wouldn’t be very noteworthy on its own, but later in the episode, exactly three of Maggie’s people fall to the snipers. So again, a bit of a theme.
Also, Lydia is wearing a bright pink shirt at the beginning when she counts to three. I noticed it mostly because the color is so bright and it might be the cleanest thing Lydia has ever worn, lol. Not sure what it points to. This is such a minor scene, it’s hard to draw any conclusions. But it caught my attention.
When they go to see the ruins of Hilltop, it’s interesting that the only thing really left standing is the water tower. Water = Beth, so we always make note of things like water towers. It almost feels like a “standing amidst the ruins” sort of thing.
As they walk to get Maggie’s people, we do hear some interesting dialogue. Cole says there’s shelter 10 miles to the East. Just having 10 (think roman numeral X) and East in the same sentence catches my ear. At one point, one of them says “if we’re lucky.” So, Luck Theory. And we see lots of shots of sunlight filtering through the trees. We’ve always seen that as a Beth symbol.
Okay, let’s talk a little more about the cut on Maggie’s arm. It’s a rather large cut across her left forearm, right? And I mentioned yesterday that it isn’t the same as Beth’s because it’s on the wrong arm. Although, it IS in the same place as Beth’s cast, just the opposite.
So, here’s why I noticed it at all. There are two other times when we saw a big cut like this. Since the Leah rumors broke, I’ve rewatched the episode Scars several times. In that episode, Judith gets a cut in the exact same place: her left forearm. It looks exactly like Maggie’s does in this episode. That can’t be a coincidence.
The only other time I remember seeing this exact cut was on Tyreese in 4b. Now, I don’t want to freak anyone out, but Ty’s cut definitely foreshadowed his death. When he was bitten in 5x09, the bite came in exact same place he was cut.
Now, I don’t at all think this suggests both Maggie and Judith getting bitten and dying. I’m sure the symbolism is more complex than that. I just don’t understand exactly how they’re using it, yet.
What I can say for now is that all three of the episodes I’ve seen it in (and there may be more; these are just the ones that spring to mind) are Beth-heavy episodes, at least when it comes to symbolism. So there’s 5x09 (she’s actually in Ty’s death hallucination), this episode, where she’s mentioned twice after 6 years of silence, and then Scars. I still haven’t posted my Scars post, yet. I just have a lot of stuff to post right now, but I’ll get it posted eventually. Just trust me when I say that episode has TONS of Beth symbolism in it. So, we’ll just leave it at that for now.
Maggie and Daryl’s convo:
So, I’m getting a lot of messages about how people are disappointed that we didn’t get more of a reaction from Daryl when Maggie said Beth’s name. And I get it, but let me answer this two ways.
1. It’s not all that surprising. We saw Daryl’s huge reaction to losing Beth in Coda, in Them, and then in pretty much every episode for the next 3+ seasons. Eight years have passed since he lost her, and, while of course her death still affects him and of course he’s not over it, it’s not unrealistic that he has his reaction to it more controlled now.
2. Having said that, I actually disagree that we didn’t get huge reactions here. They looked subtle onscreen, but again, they were never going to have him burst into tears in this scene. That wouldn’t have really worked for the scene, or been terribly realistic. So let me lay out what we did see.
First off, when Maggie first says Beth’s name (“Bethie”), we don’t see Daryl’s face, but we can kind of see the side of his head in the foreground. When she says the name—like, the INSTANT she says it—he sort of tosses his head. Almost like a nervous horse. There’s definitely a reaction there guys, even if we can’t see it directly.
But pay attention to him when it DOES show his face again a few seconds later. He keeps shifting his eyes to Maggie’s face and away. He does it at least half a dozen times over several seconds. Again, it strikes me as him being nervous about something. And you know it has to be the mention of Beth.
So why is he nervous? Is it merely the mention of her name that makes him nervous? Is he afraid he might get emotional, and is trying not to? Because we don’t have a window into Daryl’s thoughts, there’s no way to know for certain. But the reaction is there. You just have to watch closely for it.
And to confirm it even more, I watched him closely a minute or two later when she starts talking about Glenn and Negan. If anything, you’d think that would be the subject that would make him more uncomfortable. Both because he dealt with so much guilt over Glenn’s death, and because one might see Maggie returning to Negan as a free man would feel like something of a betrayal. I could see Daryl feeling guilt over that.
But when she starts talking about Glenn and Negan, his eyes don’t do the shifty thing. At all. He just watches her steadily with no hint of discomfort. It’s ONLY when she mentions Beth that his eyes shift.
And before I move on, I want to mention one more things you can all go look for. (Yes, I’m giving you permission to go watch that scene over and over again. :D)
Just before Maggie says Beth’s name, she has a peculiar reaction, too. Now, she’s talking about Glenn and Beth sort of simultaneously, so it’s hard to say whether this reaction is for her talk of Glenn or Beth. What I mean is, it’s right before she says that after Bethie died, she and Glenn talked about going to the ocean. She feels the need to throw in that it would have only been for a little while, not forever. So maybe that’s what she was feeling discomfort over saying: that she and Glenn contemplated leaving the group for a time.
But if you watch, right before she says the line, “after Bethie died,” her eyes get wide and she shrugs as though she’s about to says something she doesn’t want to.
So it may be about Glenn, but I can’t help but wonder if it’s because she realized she had to mention Beth as part of her explanation, and she knew that would be triggering for Daryl. Go watch that again and tell me what you think.
I don’t think I have to go over the importance of the ocean symbolism, right? Beth = water, and we’ve seen tons of ocean/boat symbolism around her. She also mentions the waves and the sunrise here.
In the morning, Cory calls the containers they sleep in “rust coffins.” Kind of an interesting label, suggesting death. But of course the thing that came to mind is the coffin Daryl lay in at the funeral home.
Kelly checking the truck, as I talked about yesterday, brought a lot of callbacks to mind, including Bob, and the notebook is something we could link to Beth through her journal/notes, as well as to the note left as part of the wolf trap in 5x16. This truck was even a little reminiscent of the “How the Harvest Gets Home” trucks.
One thing I couldn’t help but notice was Daryl’s line about how he’s gone looking for Connie “so many times.” That doesn’t actually make much logical sense. From what they show us, this episode picks up directly after 10x16. It would be different if weeks had passed and this was there way of telling us that Daryl has been looking for Connie in the interim. But this is literally the next day. How could he have gone looking for her “so many times?” Sure, we saw him searching a little bit early in S10, but the Whisperer War always got in the way, and honestly, I don’t think we saw him search more than two or three times.
So my point is, this is kind of a discontinuity. But I think it’s purposely placed to emphasize how often Daryl looks for people and maybe be another way of reminding us both of Rick and of Beth.
Maggie says, “We don’t know that.” Pretty much exact Beth dialogue and it’s about whether any of her people survived the fire and might still be alive in the woods. That’s exactly what Beth said this line about in 4b after the prison. Just saying.
Another line that jumped out at me was Cory saying that The Reapers had followed them. He didn’t know how. He’d been so careful. But somehow, they did.
Now, maybe this guy was just an awesome tracker. But I feel like this line had meaning. Like maybe they truly shouldn’t have been able to track Maggie’s group, but somehow still found them. Kind of makes me wonder if we should be linking this group to the CRM or not.
There’s been some discussion about whether Kelly and Elijah might become love interests. I’d be okay with that. And I can see that the way they connected and became all simpatico in this episode might be leading to romance.
Now, here’s why that might be important from a TD perspective. Did you notice the pear he gave her at the end?
I looked up pear symbolism. As with all things, different cultures treat it differently. But in Chinese symbolism (and there’s a lot of that in the show) it sometimes means ‘separation.’ So there’s a superstition that friends and lovers should not eat pears together or they may be separated.
So when I first looked this up, I wasn’t really thinking of Elijah. As Kelly is definitely a Beth proxy in many ways, and also based on symbolism we’ve seen around her in the past (S9/S10) that I wasn’t sure how to interpret, I was thinking that maybe at some point she’ll be kidnapped or taken and be separated from Maggie. On TTD, Lauren said Maggie and Kelly became surrogate sisters in this scene. So I thought that maybe, on top of all the Beth symbolism, maybe this is also pointing toward another (surrogate) sister separation on the horizon.
But then it occurred to me that Elijah gave her the pear, and that’s probably really important. If (and this is still a big if) they become love interests, her separation will probably be from him. I’m just saying we might have another Bethyl proxy in the making on our hands. ;D
I have to say that I thought the scene where Daryl grabbed Maya and put a knife to her neck before realizing she was one of Maggie’s people is one of my favorites. You heart has to go out to the poor woman. She’s been traumatized like 5x over at this point. But she was looking at Daryl like he was a serial killer. Every time I watch that scene, I laugh. It’s rough being Daryl.
So how about the title? Well, we’ve already established that Daryl said this back in Still, at the moonshine shack. And given that I think Hershel Jr.’s arc here was a small scale replay of Beth’s (missing, searched for, eventually found and brought back to Alexandria) it makes sense that they used this line here.
But I think you can go as simple or as complicated as you want to with this. Because we also had the “coming home” theme in this episode a LOT. And it’s fitting, of course, because this was Maggie’s homecoming (which you could also see as a type of Beth’s arc, of course). But if you apply the “coming home” theme to what Daryl said in Still, all that tells me is that Beth and Daryl are one another’s “home.” And if Daryl is ever going to find his real home again, it will have to be with Beth, wherever she is.
For the record, I think they’ll explore Daryl’s side of this theme a lot with Leah. He was lonely, and searching for a home, and maybe he’ll think he’s found one for a time with her, but she’s not his real home.
Okay, finally, the song played at the end, You Want it Darker, has TONS of biblical symbolism in it. Since this post is already long, I’ll wait until tomorrow to post it.
Anything you can think of that I missed?
#beth greene#beth greene lives#beth is alive#beth is coming#td theory#td theories#team delusional#team defiance#beth is almost here#bethyl
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Bothersome Beams in Sirena’s Sickbay
You know how I’ve drawn a clean layout of the Captain’s Quarters to make it reflect the room as seen on screen by e.g. erasing the false door, adding in furniture and marks for the windows, etc? I've been doing that for a bunch of other places as well (toooootally not because I’m procrastinating the two Deep Dives I should be working on....), and a few days ago I started on sickbay. And now I'm stuck.
I've been staring at this so long my brain is turning to mush, so now you all get to suffer with me!
(Fair warning: there be loads of extremely pedantic observations ahead. I hope you like staring at deck plans :D)
This is the outline of sickbay on the deck plans from the blu-ray Set Me Up featurette:
(For orientation and because it will become important later: The front of the ship is on the right-hand side, the back is on the left.)
A quick reminder of the relevant main features: the round part of sickbay has walls that slope outward towards the top, a counter running along the wall around 2/5 of the way up, and three support beams cutting through the wall and the counter.
(Note that in reality, the beams are all straight across the top; they just appear curved here due to lense distortion.)
Looking at the concentric circles in the outline above, let’s try to figure out what’s what.
Easiest: the broken grey lines, i.e. the largest two circles, surely must be where the wall meets the ceiling at its widest extension.
(Here marked in blue.)
Next, when we look at the transition between the rectangular alcove at the back of the room (marked “med bay” in the plan) and the round “lab area”, we see that it’s smooth and there is no step in between.
(Again: the walls are straight, not curved, it looks that way because of lense effects.)
Given that and the thickness of the line, I think it’s safe to assume this is the outline of the wall, most likely at floor level:
These, as far as I can tell, are the windows at the front of the room, next to the door.
As you can see, they extend almost to the top of the wall and stop short of the unidentified outer circle. Looking at a screenshot...
...the windows sit right above the counter, so it makes sense that the remaining lines would be the outline of said counter (here in green):
So far so good.
Here’s the rub.
I was trying to figure out what the vertical lines dividing the counter next to the support beams might be, when I noticed these four bits:
Those look like the places where the support beams cut through the counter.
That makes sense, right?
As you’ve probably noticed before, these beams run throughout the entire ship. We see them everywhere on the upper and lower deck, they are clearly the skeleton that holds Sirena together. You can tell how important they are to the structural integrity because all the deck plans have these vertical, broken grey lines to indicate where the beams are located.
Now, take another look at the markings where the beam towards the back of the room cuts through the counter (I magnified the one on the bottom left):
As you can see pretty clearly, the marking in the counter doesn’t line up with the normal position of the beams, indicated by the broken grey lines. It isn’t off by much. My rough estimate so far is that the beams are about a foot wide with seven feet between them, so this is a difference of maybe 15cm (~6″, apparently). But something is clearly strange here.
You can tell there’s something different at the back of the room, because where the beams in the middle and front are marked by long rectangles, the one in the back is only a small square. It looks almost as if there was only a single column on either side. If that was the case, it would probably mean that the beam at the back of the room was a fake, not technically connected to the beams at the rest of the ship like the middle and front ones.
But does that mean it was also moved a few centimetres further to the front? This has been driving me nuts.
There are a few possible explanations for what might be happening here.
1. I am wrong about those being the markers for where the beams cut through the counter. That is entirely possible.
2. Some changes were made to the set that aren’t yet reflected in this version of the layout. As I said elsewhere, these plans aren’t quite accurate to the final set in all details (e.g. the two steps between the mess hall and sickbay aren’t marked), so it’s possible that this is some intermediate version where the counter design varies a little from its final configuration.
3. The support beams at the back of sickbay do not line up with the beams in the rest of the ship. The production designers decided that they wanted sickbay to be the exact size we see in the plans, but for some logistical or aesthetic reason, having the beams at the back of the room in the logical position (i.e. parallel to the ones on the upper deck) didn’t work, so they moved them forward a little bit.
I cannot tell you how long I spent over the weekend trying to make heads or tails of this.
At first I thought: Well, obviously the beams must have been moved to the front. The grey line marking where they should be goes right across the front of the rectangular bit of the room. They’d block the way if they were in the “correct” place, right?
Except I realized my spatial reasoning is woefully inadequate when trying to visualize a round room with sloped walls, so I did the only reasonable thing: I taught myself how to use SketchUp (again) to make a very, very crude 3D sketch of the relevant sections of this room.
Turns out: when you put the beam exactly where it’s supposed to go, it does actually work out okay. I know it’s a little too small here compared to what it should be...
...but that’s probably more due to my estimates for the thickness of the beams and especially the height of the room being off.
I did another version where I moved the beam forward so it sits where the counter is marked on the deck plan, and the difference is pretty negligible:
It looks a little closer to what we see on screen, but again, that’s probably more a miscalculation issue than an honest-to-god result.
As a last-ditch effort I had another look through my screenshot collection. My thinking was that if the beam was moved forward slightly from where it was “supposed” to be, that would mean we’d see more of it.
(On the left, the beam lines up with the grey lines. The area where it intersects with the counter (solid red) is smaller than in the right-hand example, where the beam was moved to align with the marking in the counter.)
Likewise, the distance the beams extend under the counter would be different, if not by much.
(The beam on the right is moved slightly towards the middle of the room. You can see that it dips lower than the beam on the left, which is in the “correct” position.)
If this was the case we should be able to see it in the screenshots, right? Except...
This is the view towards the front of the room. It’s difficult to tell with the perspective, but I don’t think there is much of a difference in how far the beam towards the front of the room (far right) and the one at the back of the room (far left) extend below the counter?
Maaayyybe there’s a difference there? But then again, if you compare how far they dip below the tops of the chests of drawers, that seems pretty similar...
And this is the point where I decided this insanity had gone on long enough and I should probably stop before my brain got entirely scrambled (since, sadly, I don’t have an EMH to unscramble it for me).
So, what’s the takeaway here?
1.: Short of somebody from the production team giving confirmation either way, we won’t know what happened here. I might have misread the set plan, the plan might have changed, or the beams might have been moved. It will have to remain a mystery until we get more shots with incontrovertible evidence, or somebody takes a measuring tape to the set and reports back ;9
2.: For the purposes of drawing a layout of sickbay, I’m going to assume the beams are in the correct position, since that makes more sense in-universe. I’ll move the counter markings accordingly. If I have to make a correction to that at some point, at least I have done the legwork and can refer back to this post instead of having to explain the whole issue again.
3.: Yes, I did just spend half the weekend obsessing over 15 centimetres, to the point where I taught myself SketchUp (again) and wrote a way too long blog post (I did warn you ;9 ), only to come to the conclusion that, as we say over here: “Nichts Genaues weiß man nicht.” - I guess we’ll never know.
I have absolutely no regrets!
And finally 4.: staring at images of sickbay for hours on end really makes you appreciate just how beautiful that space is. Scroll up again and have a look at the screenshots. The way the circle repeats in the lights and the table and the concentric markings on the floor. The intricate holograms projected by the ceiling lights. The plants and tools all along the counters that give the room so much texture and make it seem like a real, lived-in place. The way the crisp black and white paint on the beams and the gleaming floor contrast with the cared-for but scuffed up plating and worn-off red paint all over the rest of Sirena...
I just really love this ship, okay?
Anyway. If you have any thoughts on this, or you’ve noticed something I missed, I’d love to hear about it!
I was about to say “I promise the next post will be shorter”, but who are we kidding? My brain doesn’t do brief.
And what is this blog for if not extremely rambly analyses that give us all an excuse to ogle screenshots of La Sirena for a few minutes?
#star trek picard#la sirena#lower deck#sickbay#deck plans#layout#inconsistencies#long post#progress blogging#does it still count as 'progress blogging' if there was no actual progress? 😅#let's maybe emend that to#minimapping#i really hope this was understandable and i didn't butcher too many technical terms#who gave the non-native-speaker with the very shaky grasp of interior design and architectural terms the keys to the mapping blog?#at this point the word 'beam' has lost all meaning to me...#but any weekend that involves staring at pictures of Sirena for hours and yelling observations at my friends is a good weekend!
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WIG REVIEW: WONDER WOMAN 1984
You guys! Now that the holidaze are over, I finally got around to watching the #1 most hated movie of the holiday season: Wonder Woman 1984! People have so many opinions about this movie AND NOW I DO TOO! I even have some thoughts on the wigs! Let’s discuss.
We begin in Themyscira, land of Amazons, fishtail braidology, Robin Wright, NO EFFING MEN, and also this weird Amazon gladiator gauntlet that is mainly brought to you by lots of computers. Baby Gal Gadot (nee Wonder Woman) is allowed to compete in this CGI decathalon despite being 1/3 the size and age of the other competitors and almost wins the damn thing but Auntie Robin Wright disqualifies her for trying to cheat to win. About 4 hours later, toward the end of this movie, Wonder Woman also tries to “cheat” at something so this is kinda sorta foreshadowing if you believe that the writers of this screenplay even had that forethought!
Moving ahead to 1984, this movie just gets SO 1984. Or really “1984″ in the Stranger Things sense, in that they even used the damn mall that that show takes place in and some dumb criminals steal some jewelry and Wonder Woman saves the day and also comically saves some kids who could have been hurt. I am still bitterly injured by Gal Gadot’s wig, which is not so bent and tangled as the first Wonder Woman movie. Still, the general texture and quality leave something to be desired AS DOES THIS WHOLE MOVIE BUT I AM GETTING AHEAD OF MYSELF!! Anyway, other than foiling crimes at malls, Gal Gadot mainly lives a sad single life in DC where she pines away for Chris Pine in her fabulous apartment, surrounded by an astonishing amount of photographs of her late boyfriend, given the fact that the pictures she has of him are from the 1910s when not everyone had a damn photo printer. Absent of course, is the photograph of her and her ragtag WWI buddies which is delivered to her at the end of the first Wonder Woman movie in the present day and therefore hasn’t happened yet and here begins and ends all logic in this movie.
Anyway! Gal Gadot works with Kristen Wiig, who does her fabulously awkward Kirsten Wiig thing as a nerdy scientist who is largely overlooked by all of society and who wears upsetting culottes and oversized sweatshirts and drinks Bartles and Jaymes (THIS MOVIE MISSES NO OPPORTUNITIES TO #80s). Her wig, as all wigs worn by Kristen Wiig in movies, is a horrible mess of bad texture and general bentness. Also, together she and Gal Gadot are sifting through the jewelry stolen by those thieves at the mall and there is one particular giant crystal or whatever that seems to possess magical properties. Yes, like the Infinity Stones that came (and then kept coming!) AND YES I REALIZE THAT THAT IS MCU AND THIS IS DC BUT IT DOESN’T MATTER: EVERY GODDAMNED SUPERHERO MOVIE IS SOMEHOW ABOUT HAUNTED JEWELRY.
Enter Pedro Pascal in the most outrageous 80s wig in honestly the most outrageous 80s role. He essentially plays Donald Trump - a start-up conning people out of money who is also a terrible dad and has terrible hair. I really wondered for much of this movie if this wig was supposed to be a wig, because it looks as fake and wig-like as Trump’s hair, but no - I think this is supposed to be real hair! Truly truly truly outrageous. Anyway, dude basically doesn’t want to work hard to get rich (again, much like Trump!) and instead wants to just wish his way into success via this dream crystal that Gal Gadot and Kristen Wiig have.
OH AND THEY ALREADY WISHED ON THE CRYSTAL! Kristen Wiig wishes to be like Gal Gadot (not realizing that she’s actually wishing to be Wonder Woman) and gets the most outrageous makeover into this bleached blonde nightmare. AND EVERYONE IS JUST LIKE WOW YOU’RE NOT WEARING CULOTTES ANYMORE I GUESS THIS IS NORMAL FOR YOU TO SUDDENLY LOOK THIS WAY AND FOR YOUR HAIR TO INEXPLICABLY BE INCHES LONGER IN THE COURSE OF AN AFTERNOON. Also! Although this bleached blonde wig is maybe an upgrade from her mousy wig from before, that really means nothing as both wigs are garbage.
Gal Gadot’s wish, of course, was for her ain’ true love, Chris Pine, to come back. AND THEN HE DOES! SORTA! Despite being definitely exploded in a plane in 1918 (in the first movie - spoiler?), he just kinda walks into this fancy party like “hey what’s up?” OH EXCEPT FOR ONE SMALL THING.
HE LOOKS LIKE THIS DUDE TO EVERYONE ELSE EXCEPT GAL GADOT. Ok? I guess because Chris Pine’s actual physical body was destroyed in 1918, he has to inhabit the body of this random man credited only as ‘Handsome Man’ in 1984 which really begs the question - what then happens to this handsome dude while Chris Pine shapeshifts into him and does anyone care? ALSO! Plot-wise, this is just the tip of the iceberg in crystal wishes - basically everyone on earth gets a wish before film’s end and all are fulfilled no matter how ludicrous - and yet no other wish seem to have these sort of strings attached EXCEPT FOR WONDER WOMAN! WHY DOES ONLY WONDER WOMAN GET THE PET SEMATARY OF WISHES?!?!?!
Anyway! Lucky for us all, ‘Handsome Man’ has the most 80s closet ever! As we all know, movies set in the 80s are contractually obligated to provide us with a very 80s fashion montage and this one is ALL ABOUT CHRIS PINE. Somehow, ‘Handsome Man’ owns like 10 different fanny packs?!?! Every single 80s menswear disaster is covered here at least three times you guys.
About 3 hours later, he settles on this outfit! Mazel! I’d like to pause this review to now give my definitive breakdown of CHRIS rankings (limited only to the 4 young-ish, blonde-ish Chris actors who appear in superhero movies) so that I might now abbreviate Chris Pine to #2 Chris WHICH HE IS. Ahem:
- BEST CHRIS is obviously CHRIS EVANS. This is because he gets into Twitter wars with racists, he offered his arm of support to Regina King when she stumbled getting her Oscar, and he wears the shit out of a sweater. There are many other reasons also but no other Chris can compare - HE IS BEST CHRIS.
- WORST CHRIS is obviously CHRIS PRATT. This is because he is super Jesusy evangelical and also anti-LGBTQ and married a Schwarzenegger (tho Arnold wishes he was Evans too!). There are many other reasons why but those are the most important reasons. WORST CHRIS.
- #2 CHRIS is a constant battle between CHRIS HEMSWORTH AND CHRIS PINE. Hemsworth is very funny in the lady Ghostbusters, was once on Dancing With The Stars in Australia, and can really commit to a fatsuit. Pine is great at singing on a Wet Hot American Summer roof OR a river, loves caftans, and is loved by the one and only Wonder Woman. It’s an infinity tie between these two and therefore #2 Chris is in the eye of the beholder during whatever you are beholding, and currently we’re beholding Pine. #2 CHRIS!
Yes, this lengthy roundup was definitely worth it so that I can abbreviate Chris Pine to #2 Chris now. Moving on!
So Gal Gadot and #2 Chris walk through a very 80s DC while #2 Chris’s mind gets blown by all the stuff that is different in the 70s years he’s been dead. No 80s movie would be complete without of course covering PUNKS!!! This is where this movie definitely lost my husband because one of these punks is wearing a Cro-Mags shirt from an album THAT CAME OUT IN 1986. This offends me, also, not because I care about that band but because this is lazy costuming! Apparently, my husband was not the only one to notice this and become deeply offended - and Cro-Mags cofounder even chimed in to say that this is all ok because they released a demo for the ‘86 album in 1984 (AND WE ALL KNOW EVERYONE DEFINITELY MAKES SHIRTS BASED ON DEMO ALBUMS?) I still find this lazy and stupid costuming and remain annoyed! ANYWAY!
Back to the “plot”...Kristen Wiig and Pedro Pascal’s confederacy of bad wigs kinda sorta hook up at this dumb party so that Pedro Pascal can steal that very important wishing crystal! AND THEN HE WISHES ON THE CRYSTAL THAT HE CAN BE THE CRYSTAL. Haunted jewelry plots have never been so dumb as this you guys! AND ALL OF THE INFINITY STONES MOVIES WERE INFINITELY STUPID SO THIS IS REALLY SAYING SOMETHING.
So basically, after 70 years apart, Gal Gadot and #2 Chris have no more time to waste on fanny pack fashion shows or questionable metro punks and have to follow Pedro Pascal to Egypt, where he has gone to demand some oil from Egypt now that he is the physical manifestation of a wishing crystal. In order to get to Egypt themselves, Gal and #2 Chris steal a plane from the Smithsonian (which apparently just has some jets laying around some random tarmac) and then Gal WISHES THE JET INTO BEING INVISIBLE! This is obviously to fuel Wonder Woman invisible jet nostalgia and also to waste about 45 minutes on shots of them invisibly flying through fireworks. BECAUSE IT’S THE 4TH OF JULY WAIT HOW DID THEY VISIT ANY MUSEUMS OR DO ANYTHING ON A NATIONAL HOLIDAY EARLIER THAT DAY OH RIGHT THERE IS NO LOGIC IN THIS MOVIE. Over in Egypt, the wishing crystal Pedro Pascal hisself somehow creates a water shortage and refugee crisis in Egypt and Gal has to Wonder Woman some kids to safety, but mainly she wears this amazing jumpsuit and is able to find a working payphone to call Kristen Wiig and ask if she has any intel on that damn wishing crystal.
Kristen Wiig is somehow EVEN MORE BLONDE AND WEARING THIS DAMN COAT. I mean...you guys. WHAT. Like any good 80s thriller, Kristen Wiig researched the wishing crystal on microfiche which leads her to a random record store where she meets up with Gal and #2 Chris who I guess flew the invisijet back to DC from Egypt in a few minutes or something. Anyway, rando dude at the record store takes out some musty old book that has all the wishing crystal information everyone needed and basically warns that it can destroy society AND ALSO it can take things away from the wisher like a damn monkey’s paw. SPEAKING OF MONKEYS THAT COAT THE END.
But Kristen Wiig’s makeover is far from over! She finally appears as Cheetah herself at the damn White House, where the wishing crystal Pedro Pascal is asking a fake Ronald Reagan (?) if he can please satellite everyone on the earth so he can grow stronger as a crystal person OR SOMETHING? Anyway, Kristen’s lewk is very “punk” but not in a Cro-Mag way, but more in a Meryl Streep in Ricki and the Flash way? It’s a battle of not great wigs, at any rate. Kristen doesn’t want anyone harming her wishing crystal Pedro since that’s what made her Cheetah so there is this huge dumb fight where Pedro and Kristen just kinda glide away (not unlike actual Trump and his idiots last week and omg did this movie foretell that) and then Gal realizes that she has to denounce her wish because the monkey paw’s clause of it all is making her not powerful enough to fight anymore. So #2 Chris is like: I should just be dead anyway and my whole existence is very Pet Sematary and everyone kind of cries in an alley and #2 Chris dies again (?) Also! I think this is supposed to have been foretold by that earlier scene with baby Gal Gadot trying to cheat at that decathalon or whatever because you can’t cheat....death??? Regardless, Gal jumps into the sky and somehow is ABLE TO FLY BASED ON AERODYNAMIC FACTS #2 CHRIS GAVE HER WHILE FLYING AN INVISIJET? SURE!
Over in another plane, Pedro and Kristen are on their way to some satellite island to broadcast to the world about crystal wishes and dude is not looking so great because wishing that you are a crystal is a terrible idea. This is the point at which I realized that this wig was supposed to be real hair because it looks so sweaty and shitty but has consistently looked like a shitty wig through this entire “plot.” Anyway! He asks Kristen Wiig if she wants another wish which....huh? Somehow Gal Gadot’s wish ended up a Pet Sematary nightmare of possessed handsome man bodies that she had to renounce but Kristen Wiig gets two wishes? SURE! AND KRISTEN WIIG WISHES THAT SHE BECOME THE “ULTIMATE PREDATOR” WHAT ON EARTH IS THIS MOVIE Y’ALL.
APPARENTLY THIS IS WHAT AN ULTIMATE PREDATOR LOOKS LIKE?!?!?! YOU GUYS. In order to literally become a Cheetah, they gave Kristen Wiig a CGI body and....kabuki makeup? This lewk absolutely looks like a mashup between two dueling community theater productions of Cats and Pacific Overtures and I can’t stop laughing.
Meanwhile, Gal finally gets to rock this lewk which was earlier described as the battle armor of the goddess, Asteria, who was the one chick NOT invited to Themyscira for Amazonian fishtail braidology times, and had to stay behind to FIGHT EVERY MAN ON EARTH but did get this sweet armor out of it?!?! Regardless, despite withstanding all men ever, Cheetah somehow effs up this armor in a matter of seconds, but Gal is still able to defeat her through underwater electrocution (which somehow avoids Gal herself even though SHE’S WEARING AN ENTIRE SUIT OF METAL).
Anyway, in the end, the entire world is on the brink of collapse and eveyone is looking at old dumb 80s tv screens because of all the dumb wishes everyone made and I guess I appreciate the fact that this entire movie is about dumb 80s wish fulfillment but also there are so many plotholes that I can’t even, you guys. Gal somehow lassoes Pedro Pascal into remembering his shitty dad and realizes that he is now a shitty dad and everyone somehow renounces their wishes and Pedor Pascal just kind of WALKS OFF AN ISLAND INTO THE DEBRIS OF DC AND FINDS HIS CHILD BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD?!?!?!?! It’s really annoying that this movie somehow rewards this shitty dad but also doesn’t let a woman (specifically WONDER WOMAN) have both a love life and her own damn job and I’m not alone in being annoyed by that. ANYWAY, days or weeks after the entire world almost ended, there is somehow a cute Christmas carnival that was definitely a stolen set from Dolly Parton’s Christmas in the Square where Gal Gadot is reunited with ‘Handsome Man’ who has no knowledge of previously being possessed by #2 Chris and is still rocking ALL THIS 80s FASHION and then a star shaped balloon is released into the sky and I wonder if this entire movie has been a Macy’s ad.
BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE! In a mid-credits scene which is also maybe the only watchable part of this movie, the goddess Asteria (and OG owner of that gold body armor) is revealed to be alive and well and played by OG Wonder Woman, LYNDA EFFING CARTER!! She is definitely an actual goddess who never ages and whose hair is way better than any wigs on display at any point in this movie and is also the only part of the movie you should watch. THE END.
VERDICT: DOESN’T WURQ
#wonderwoman84#ww84#wigwurq#galgadot#chrispine#2chris#chrisrankings#kirstenwiig#cheetah#punks#THE80S#contractualfashionmontages#pedropascal#hauntedjewelry#lyndacarter
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“i’m sorry, i didn’t know”
prompt: “i’m sorry, i didn’t know”
whumpee: kyle valenti
fandom: roswell new mexico
hi hi i bring again whump of a character that caters probably only to Me!!! i absolutely love kyle and alex so much and i like to write them sweet...there is plenty of pain in here tho!! def pre-ship vibes but you don’t Have to read it that way?
It hurts. A burning kind of pain that radiates out from his right ribcage all throughout his torso, hot and constant and spiking in intensity whenever he tries to breathe. Broken ribs, he thinks, dismally. Why? Anything but broken ribs would be fine. Pretty much any other kind of break can have something done about it. But for this? He can take a couple ibuprofen and set an ice pack on them and get back to work.
Not that he particularly should, with broken ribs. A few days off is wise, as is getting checked out by a colleague, but to be honest he doesn’t feel like telling anyone. He doesn’t have any internal bleeding and nothing’s poking out of his skin, so he’s fine. He’s fine.
Except that his whole chest hurts every time he breathes, let alone speaks, or, god forbid, walks. But he has to do all three of those things, because he’s got work today, and then he and Alex are hanging out tonight. He’s not about to skip either of those things.
Work sucks. There’s no sugarcoating it. He hides his injury as well as he can, excusing his awkward posture, slight limp, and occasional wince as being products of a late, sleepless night, and if his colleagues doubt him, they’re kind enough not to say anything.
Everything goes about as well as it can go until around lunch. He’s operating, a procedure he’s done so many times he could do it in his sleep, but he can’t fully extend his right arm or he’s pretty sure his whole chest will tear in two. He tries to ignore it, but he swears he’s on fire, and he drops his scalpel right on top of the patient.
Nothing bad happens, but a fellow doctor gives him a curious look. He reaches for the scalpel and can’t quite hide a wince as he stretches out his side a little too much.
“Are you alright, Dr. Valenti?”
“Fine,” he says, a little more snappishly than he’d intended. He bites down on his lip to stop himself from making any more noise and stubbornly blinks away the tears of pain that have formed unwillingly in his eyes.
The rest of the procedure goes off without a hitch, but Kyle can’t quite escape from the other doctor afterwards.
“You sure you’re okay? I saw you wince when you reached for that scalpel.”
“Yeah, it’s nothing,” he says, as casually as he can, not wanting a repeat of his reply from before. “Just slept a little weird.”
“Thought you didn’t sleep at all.”
“Barely,” he says. “I barely slept. What I did get...not the best.”
Evidently this is a sufficient explanation, as the other doctor leaves him alone to go grab lunch. Kyle is definitely not hungry, so he skips out, hiding in the locker room until his break’s over.
He gets home shortly after six, now slightly hungry, but unwilling to eat, lest it cause him more pain. The whole drive home his seatbelt had pressed against the lower side of his ribs, jostling them whenever he’d come to a stop. It hadn’t bothered him too much that morning, but evidently all of the ibuprofen is wearing off. He just wants everything to stop hurting.
He limps his way through the door, not bothering to take off his shoes or remove anything from his pockets. He makes a beeline for the bathroom, where he again takes too much ibuprofen and carefully lifts up his shirt to inspect his injury.
His entire right side is a vivid purple with the occasional splotch of red. It’s slightly swollen and excruciatingly painful to touch. God, it hurts.
He very slowly makes his way to the couch, stopping by the freezer for a soft ice pack. He lies down carefully and places the ice pack onto his ribs, through his shirt so as not to freeze his skin off. Which would be just what he needs, he thinks.
The light contact of the ice pack hurts like he’s been punched, and its steady pressure is almost unbearable. He lets out a groan of pain and finally gives in to the hot tears building behind his eyes. Even so, he leaves the ice pack on. It’ll help in the long run, and he’s still got things to do today.
Things which he could very easily cancel. He could text Alex and tell him he’s just not feeling well tonight, but then Alex would ask what’s the matter? and probably get concerned for him and Kyle really doesn’t want that. So he’ll suck it up. And he’ll ice his damn ribs.
At 6:30, Kyle lifts himself up off of the couch as gently as he possibly can. It hurts anyway, but slightly less thanks to the time spent with the ice. He’s wearing the clothes he’d worn to work, which are slightly out of place for the Wild Pony, but there’s no way he’s changing again (into and out of his scrubs had been painful enough, especially with the added pressure of making sure nobody was around to see the rather horrific colors painting his torso). So the work clothes stay on.
He climbs into his car, wishing he didn’t care so much about his own personal safety as he buckles his seatbelt, which again presses itself uncomfortably against his ribs. He drives, doing his best to make the ride as smooth as he possibly can.
He arrives at the Pony five minutes late and slightly sweaty and feeling fairly awful. Still. He can’t help smiling when he sees Alex sitting in a booth, waving at him. He nods in response, not wanting to lift his hand.
Kyle sinks down into the booth across from Alex, hiding a wince.
“How was your day?” Alex asks, as one of the waiters comes up to them.
“Pretty boring. One surgery, a consult, no emergencies.”
“That’s good,” Alex says, as they order their drinks and some snacks.
Kyle nods. Neither of them says anything for what feels like an age. It’s awkward. He can practically feel the tension in the air. But he really doesn’t want to talk. It hurts.
“So…” Alex says, but evidently can’t think of anything to say after that.
“So,” Kyle replies, softly. He blinks hard as a slightly more intense wave of pain hits his side. Their drinks arrive, and he takes a big sip, hoping to cool off his ribs from the inside.
Which does not happen. In fact, the movement only makes them hurt worse, and he knows he doesn’t hide his wince.
But Alex, apparently sensing that Kyle doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t push. God, he’s so nice. And here Kyle is, acting like he doesn’t care about anything and not talking just because, what? His ribs may very well be on fire?
“Hey, I finally watched Star Wars,” he says at last, grinning, stubbornly ignoring the spike of pain in his ribs.
“Oh really?”
“What, you don’t believe me?”
“Tell me one thing that happened.”
“Let’s see...some planet got blown up.”
“You’re going to have to be a little bit more specific.”
Kyle racks his brain. “It was red?” he says, at last, not entirely sure of that fact. “Winona Ryder died,” he recalls.
Alex laughs out loud, and Kyle can’t help grinning along. “What?” he asks. “What’s so funny about Winona Ryder dying?”
“Kyle, that’s Star Trek. And not exactly the best Star Trek, either.”
“Oh.” He smiles a little more. “Which is the best one, then?”
Alex goes off on a fair tirade of the various pieces of media in the Star Trek franchise. If Kyle’s being honest, he only follows about half of it, but Alex is clearly into it and kind of ridiculously passionate about which show is better than which other show, and which character was done so poorly in this rendition, and it’s incredibly endearing, so Kyle just pays as much attention as he can, asking questions whenever he feels able.
On top of it being nice to hear Alex so enthusiastic, the conversation is also a nice distraction from the pain in his ribs, which has only increased due to all the talking. The fire has spread out and gotten hotter and he can barely stand it, but focusing on Alex helps.
Their food arrives. Alex chews a fry thoughtfully as he explains the merits of The Animated Series.
“...so there’s these close-ups, right? And it’s like, their entire face fills the screen at this dramatic moment, and…”
Eventually, Alex runs out of things to say about Star Trek, and Kyle runs out of questions to ask to keep him going, and the conversation, rather unfortunately, turns to him.
“You haven’t eaten anything,” Alex observes, and pushes their basket of fries closer to Kyle.
“I’m not really hungry,” he says, though he carefully picks up a fry. He is hungry, truly, but he doesn’t want to figure out what it feels like to eat with broken ribs.
“You should still try to eat something,” Alex points out. “You look a little pale.”
Kyle pretends to be affronted, throwing the fry very lightly across the table, where it lands on Alex’s lap.
“Nice try,” Alex says. “Eat something, Kyle.”
He’d sigh in exasperation, if it weren’t for the fact that it would hurt like hell. He very slowly picks up a fry and bites it. Not too bad, he decides, swallowing. And yeah, that hurts a little more. He barely stops himself from putting a hand to his side in an effort to make the pain stop.
He doesn’t eat any more. Alex doesn’t try to make him, though he does reach out a hand across the table, putting it to Kyle’s forehead.
“I’m a doctor, Alex. I think I’d know if I was sick.”
“Hm,” Alex says, like he doesn’t believe that. “Maybe you’d know it,” he continues. “Don’t know if you’d do anything about it.”
Kyle can’t fault his logic on that. Not when he’s sitting here with broken ribs that hurt and hurt and hurt, because he hadn’t wanted to tell anyone and he hadn’t wanted to cancel on Alex.
Their conversation moves on from that naturally enough, and eventually they find themselves at a natural stopping point. They pay for their food, and Alex stands up. Kyle takes a second to build up the strength to make himself stand, and then does it, shutting his eyes instinctively against the pain.
Alex’s hand is on his arm when he opens them. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, looking like he’s not going to believe Kyle’s answer.
“I’m sure,” Kyle says. “I’m so okay. I’m super.”
“Sure,” Alex replies. “That sounded so convincing.”
“I’m fine, I swear.”
“If you say so.”
They make their way out to the parking lot, where Alex leans up against the driver’s side of Kyle’s car.
“Hey!”
“I’m not letting you get in until you tell me what’s up with you.”
Kyle is so not in the mood for this. He walks around to the passenger side, intending on climbing across. Which is a really horrible idea. He gets one leg over the center console and reaches out an arm to balance himself, and his whole world goes white with pain.
He slowly sinks back into the passenger seat, feeling his body shaking involuntarily. The too-familiar hot tears of pain are pouring down his cheeks, and he’s trying not to take the shuddering breaths his body so desperately needs, because they’ll only make the pain worse.
Alex’s hand is on his arm again, and then Alex is turning Kyle’s body so he’s facing out of the passenger door, towards him. Kyle knows this only because he can feel a slight breeze on his face, since his eyes are screwed shut against the pain.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Alex asks, and his voice is as soft as anything. “What’s wrong, Kyle?”
He can’t speak. It hurts too much. His face is burning from tears and from shame and his chest is burning with horrible pain and it hurts so much and he just wants it to stop and -
Then it’s worse, it’s worse, it’s so much worse. Alex’s arms are around him in a gesture that would be the most comforting thing in the world were it not for the sheer amount of pain their presence is generating. He must scream, because all of a sudden Alex’s arms draw back.
Kyle risks opening his eyes, hoping Alex hasn’t left completely. He doesn’t want to be alone.
“Kyle, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
He nods, minutely, and sees Alex’s face fall through a haze of tears. It’s not your fault, he thinks desperately. You didn’t know.
“Are you hurt? I mean, were you hurt before?”
Another small nod.
“I’m sorry, Kyle, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” Alex sounds pained, almost like he doesn’t think Kyle will believe him.
That gets through the pain enough to let him speak. “Not your fault,” he whispers. “Didn’t...wanna tell you.”
Alex shakes his head. “I should’ve seen that you were hurting,” he says. “And then I went and made it worse, thinking your pain was just emotional and that maybe you just needed a hug.” He scoffs, like he thinks that was a stupid line of reasoning.
“Alex,” Kyle says, forcing his voice to be a little stronger. “Shut up. Y’ were helping.”
“But-”
“No.”
Alex sighs in defeat. “Okay,” he concedes. “Not my fault.”
“Mine,” Kyle says.
“That’s not how this works,” Alex protests. “How is it your fault?” he asks, after a beat.
“Stupid,” Kyle mumbles. “Fell ‘n hit my ribs...knew they were broken...didn’t tell anyone.”
“Kyle,” Alex says, a mix between exasperated and worried. “Why not?”
He’d shrug, were he physically capable. “Didn’t want to.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Don’ need the hospital. Nothing to do about it. Jus’...wanna go home.”
“Okay,” Alex agrees, not even for a second insisting that they do anything else. “We’ll leave my car here. Give me your keys.”
Kyle lets go of the keys he hadn’t realized he was still holding. They’ve left red marks on his palm where they’d dug into his closed fist.
Alex takes the keys and very gently pushes Kyle’s body to face the front of the car, and then brushes his hair off of his forehead with a light touch that feels like the nicest thing in the world to his warm skin. Alex starts the car, reaching across Kyle to buckle his seatbelt, which now presses against his left side and is a great deal less painful.
“So it’s your ribs,” Alex says, after they’ve been driving for a few minutes.
“Yeah.”
“And they’re broken.”
“Yeah.”
Alex leaves the conversation at that, though something in his tone tells Kyle they’re not done talking about all of this. The rest of the ride home is quiet, though not uncomfortable, except of course for the pain, which still increases every time there’s a slight bump in the road or the car changes speeds. He’s crying again, though it’s entirely possible he never stopped.
They reach Kyle’s place, and Alex helps him navigate his way to the door. It’s an incredibly painful journey, but Kyle tries his best not to lean too heavily into Alex, mindful of his leg and not in the mood to be the cause of any more pain.
Alex slips his hand into Kyle’s pocket and grabs his house key, then wraps his arm around Kyle’s waist as he starts to list to the side. He inserts the key into the lock and turns it, then leads Kyle inside and directly to the couch.
Kyle very carefully sinks down onto the couch in a sitting position. He hears Alex walking around, apparently gathering...things, and then sees Alex standing in front of him with his arms full of various medical supplies, food, a bottle of water, a blanket…
He moves to say something, but Alex interrupts him. “I know you said you can’t do anything about your ribs, but I’ve got some ice for any swelling and some pain meds and some food and water because you really do need to eat, and blankets so you can sleep out here…” He trails off. Kyle gives him a little smile, for once glad there are still tears dripping down his face, so Alex won’t see him again tearing up at his sheer kindness.
Alex gets to work in a very businesslike manner, stuffing a pillow up against the arm of the couch and guiding Kyle to lie back against it, picking up his legs and setting them onto the couch. He pulls off Kyle’s shoes and very gently undoes the buttons of his shirt, until it’s open enough to reveal his bruised side, which can’t look any better than it had earlier, if Alex’s horrified gasp is anything to go by.
“Kyle.”
“‘S bad. I know.”
Fingers gently touch the bruise, not hurting as much as Kyle expects. They’re cool against the burning feeling, and they don’t press into it. Alex drapes a soft hand towel over the bruise, then lies an ice pack atop it.
Kyle is familiar with the sensation, having done a similar thing earlier, but it still hurts. He sucks in a sharp breath, which of course only exacerbates the pain.
Alex’s hand moves to his face, cupping it with that same gentleness. “I know it hurts,” he says, “but it’ll help. You know that.”
“Yeah,” Kyle whispers back, because he does know. That doesn’t stop it from hurting, though.
As though reading that thought, Alex holds out an opened bottle of ibuprofen. “You’ve probably taken way too many of these today, but I trust you’re not going to overdose.”
He lets Alex shake two of the pills into his hand, which he very carefully and slowly reaches up to his mouth. He swallows the pills dry, which is a terrible mistake. He coughs on them and feels his ribs explode with pain again. He groans. He is so damn tired of this.
Alex’s hand is back, wiping away the fresh tears of pain from his face. “Easy,” he says, and holds out a bottle of water. Kyle takes it with a shaking hand and can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed when Alex’s hand joins it, helping him lift it to his mouth.
He drinks a little water and feels the pain minutely recede. Alex pulls the bottle away, and Kyle leans his head back into the pillow, closing his eyes.
“I’m not gonna make you eat anything right now,” Alex says, and he holds up the assortment of items he’d brought from the kitchen. “But I’m guessing you haven’t eaten anything all day, so when you wake up you are going to eat. Okay?”
Though it’s phrased as a question, Kyle knows full well it isn’t. “Okay,” he agrees.
“Good,” Alex replies, and puts a soft hand in his hair. “Now sleep. I’ll be here to remind you of that promise when you wake up.”
thanks so much for reading this!!! like i said i am a huge sucker for kylex and i love them so so much :) i hope you enjoyed!
#febuwhump2021#febuwhumpday10#i'm sorry i didn't know#roswell new mexico#kyle valenti#broken bones#broken ribs#cared for#i had a lot of fun with alex and star trek lmao#he is a big fucking nerd and i stand by that#anyway i started this fic with exactly Nothing and i am kind of happy with how it turned out? its also rlly long. maybe too long. idk#anyhow tysm for reading!#my writing#i say things#didnt tag those first go round lmao#anyway fun fact this is the longest one chapter thing I have ever written!#and possibly the second longest thing ever!#it’s barely over 3k but.
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Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 17
Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC
Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.
Word Count: 12,131
FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER
Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!
Day three of Operation Boyfriend But Shh Not Really and so far, so good.
Though the thought of this triple date had my inner recluse curling up into the fetal position, I'd manage to convince myself it actually was a good thing when you really thought about it. One, it gave me more practice for trying to do this whole couply… thing I was trying to do. More practice meant I'd eventually, hopefully be more comfortable with it all, as well as less chance for screw-ups in front of my parents when the dreaded but inevitable weekend with them at last came. Two, we were trying to maintain this image of being boyfriend and girlfriend in front of everyone else at the mall. And boyfriends and girlfriends went on dates. What better way to be seen going on said dates than by going out with other actual couples? And three, we couldn't forget about the person the Duke had hired to tail Anna originally and could quite possibly still be keeping tabs on me now. If they were still out there lurking, it was important that they, even more so than anyone else,see me dating.
It was still kind of weird to think about - that an actual, real life PI or whatever had been surveilling me constantly for who knows how long and I'd had no idea. It felt so surreal. Unreal even. But the Duke was absolutely that crazy and I wouldn't put it past him to still have someone keeping an eye on me, looking for any cracks in the story, any slip-ups or mistakes. I'd have to start paying attention more when I was out and about, see if I could figure out who it was, spot any faces that seemed to always show up everywhere I went.
But then, even if I did identify a likely culprit, I would have absolutely no idea what to do with that information once I had it. Even if I marched right up to them and told them their cover had been blown so they may as well scram, the Duke was just insane enough and rich enough to keep hiring new people to do the job instead.
...jeez, I was really starting to sound paranoid now, wasn't I?
With my luck, it'd turn out the Duke no longer had anyone following me after he'd confronted me in the food court.
Best not to think about it too much, because honestly? It'd get me nowhere.
Sighing, I banished the thoughts from my head as I watched the buildings blur past my window from the backseat of Riku's silver Ford Focus. The three of us were on our way to the restaurant now and Lea, Kairi and Sora were going to meet us there. My hand anxiously smoothed out the creases of my outfit - a dark magenta sheath dress with long sleeves and a hemline at the knees. It had a tastefully low v-neckline and a double layered skirt, the top layer made of a shimmering gossamer material. Nice, but nothing too fancy for our "nothing too fancy" date, to use Kairi's words.
Per Lea's request, I'd also worn his leather jacket. It made sense, after all. Nothing screamed "dating" more than one half of a couple wearing their other half's clothes, so it certainly helped maintain the facade. His boy scent still lingered on it, even though he hadn't worn it in a couple of days now, given it had been in my possession. The smell was somehow both soothing and butterflies-in-the-stomach inducing at the same time. It was an odd mix of emotions, to say the least.
I felt a buzz in the jacket's pocket. Pulling out my phone (gosh, it was so weird having one again after going so many weeks without) I checked my notifications to discover I'd received a text.
Well, speak of the devil.
Still cant believe u didnt lemme come pick u up
Shaking my head with a small snort, I tapped out a reply to Lea.
It just made the most logical sense for me to ride with Riku and Rayne since we were all coming from the same place.
Rayne suddenly cried out happily, drawing my attention to her as she clapped and bounced in the front passenger seat. "Ahh, I'm still just so excited for date night! Good food, great company, hot hubby," she slyly pinched Riku's cheek, which he endured with dignity as he drove. "What more could a girl ask for?"
He chuckled as he shifted the car over into the turn lane. "You make it sound like I never take you out."
"You know that's not what I mean!" she playfully smacked his shoulder. "But with the baby on the way, I don't know how many more of these I'll have! This is one of my last chances to enjoy freedom! Jesus take the fucking wheel, hallelujah!"
I felt my phone vibrate in my hand again and I looked down at it.
I know not this logic u spk of
I felt a tiny smile pulling at my mouth as my thumbs typed.
Don't worry about it. Tis beyond your mortal ken.
"I just hope no one's drinking tonight," Riku snerked as I watched those three dots bounce at the bottom of my screen. "Don't need you dancing on any more tables, thank you very much."
"Your face dances on tables!" Rayne shot back, sticking her tongue out at him.
"That doesn't even make any sense."
"You don't even make any sense!"
Rude. Ill have u know I had half a mind 2 drive ovr n get u NEway, logic b damned
My smile turned a touch wicked.
I'm impressed. That's half a mind more than you usually have.
"Here we are!"
My head shot up as I heard the engine shut down. I hadn't even realized we were in a parking lot. I hadn't even realized the vehicle had stopped moving.
As I looked out my window again, I heard Rayne saying, "Have I mentioned how happy I am we're doing this?"
"You may have said something about that once or twice." I could hear the smile in Riku's low voice.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her leaning over towards him, her hand coming up to run slender fingers through his long, ashen strands. "Yeah, but maybe I should show you."
"Maybe you should…"
And that's when I, being the absolute clueless, blissfully naive little fool that I was, chose to turn and fully look at them, just in time to get a front row seat to their little game of tonsil hockey. I blushed, threw up a hand to block my line of sight and made a tiny noise of disgust in my throat. "Ugh! You know you're not the only people in the car, right?"
Rayne pulled away to smirk back at me. "Well, other people can shoo," she flicked a dismissive hand in my direction before grabbing Riku by his collar and yanking him over for a deeper, more passionate kiss. Ding, ding, round two!
Squeaking, I fumbled with my seatbelt until I heard the click release, threw my car door open, stumbled out and slammed it shut behind me with a huff.
Oi, that was the main drawback to this group date plan. We were going to be around actual couples, and actual couples actually, ahem… snogged. Rayne and Riku were going to be bad enough, but let's not forget Sora and Kairi were along for the ride too and I'd seen firsthand how gross those two could be as well. Mark my word, this night was going to have more than its fair share of uncomfortable moments with those four around, being all besotted and smitten and other such rot. But I would survive this and make it through to the other side. Somehow.
Sweeping my braid forward over one shoulder, I glanced up at the building before me now. It bore a colorful banner over its entrance that read Fuente Del Oro. A local, family-owned Mexican restaurant, or so Rayne had told me. I could already tell this was going to be a very different experience from the types of restaurants my ex used to take me to for our dates. Those restaurants had all been about the look, the prestige… you didn't go to any of those places for the food, you went there to be seen, to give off an air of importance. Those places were… dull. Lifeless. This place before me now, on the other hand, was… nice. Colorful. Vibrant and full of character. Not elegant or frilly, but warm and inviting. And the aromas that I could smell coming from it, even all the way out here? Delicious.
I was actually kind of looking forward to this.
Phone still in my grasp, I looked back down at it and frowned.
No message back from Lea yet.
A giggle suddenly echoed out across the parking lot and my eyes snapped towards the source. It didn't take long to spot Kairi a few vehicles over, squirming and laughing in Sora's arms as he hugged her from behind, blowing raspberries against her neck. They were standing with a very familiar redhead who was leaning against a very familiar black muscle car. Said redhead had pulled his hair back into a ponytail again and was dressed in a snug, black tee with a second shirt on underneath, red and black horizontal stripes running down its full-length sleeves. His slim, dark jeans made his already long legs seem even longer and he was sporting his bright red Converse. He had his phone in hand in front of him, but it wasn't the phone he was looking at. Our eyes met and a grin tugged at one corner of his lips.
Suddenly, whatever boldness that I had felt behind the safety of text on the tiny, glowing screen in the palm of my hand had abandoned me and I felt a small pang of anxiety pierce my chest.
But I rallied.
Alright, Elsa, pep talk time. You can do this. You've been mentally and emotionally preparing for this since yesterday. Let him throw at you whatever fluffy, sappy moves he decides to today, all in the name of pretending to be your boyfriend. You can take it.
Shields raised and at full power, captain!
Inhaling and exhaling slowly, I pocketed my mobile and started making my way over to those three. Probably hearing my footsteps against the asphalt, Kairi and Sora looked over at me as I approached and greeted me with waves. I gave them a shy smile and returned the wave as Lea held his phone up, turning the screen towards me and showing the last message I'd sent him as he tsked, "Brutal. You wound me, madame."
I stopped a few feet away from him, my smile twitching wider. "You like it."
"True. What can I say, I've always been a bit of a masochist," he hummed a low chuckle, slipping his phone into the back pocket of his pants. His head tipped to one side and he stared at me for another second, then his eyes crinkled as he stretched a hand out towards me with a soft, "C'mere."
I bit my bottom lip, hesitating for a heartbeat before moving another step forward to take his offered hand.
"Lookit you," he whistled, closing his fingers around mine and leading me into a little twirl. "Digging the look." He then gently pulled me against him, drawing my arms up to hug his neck before slipping his hands beneath the jacket to wrap around my waist, enveloping me in his cinnamon scent. "Didn't get a chance to say it the other day, but my jacket suits you."
I rolled my eyes up at him, doing my best to be impervious to our sudden closeness. I wasn't succeeding. "Not really. It's too big."
"Yes really," he insisted, bowing his head slightly towards mine. "It looks way better on you than it ever did on me."
"Where's Riku and Rayne?" Sora interjected and I turned my head to look at him.
"They-" my words tripped over my tongue as Lea pressed a tender kiss to my temple.
Critical hit, captain! Shields down to thirty percent, but holding!
Ignoring the heat rushing to my face, I did my best to regather my scattered thoughts. "They, uh… they're back in the, uh… the…" Drat, what was the word again? "...car! They're back in the… the car."
Sora pulled a face. "Swapping spit, no doubt."
"Oh-ho, we'll see about that! C'mon, Sora!" Kairi cackled with an evil gleam in her eye, slipping free of her boyfriend's hold to instead grab his hand and pull him behind her as she ran off towards Riku's car.
"Seriously," Lea spoke up again, his voice hushed as I slowly returned my gaze to his. "Pretty sure I've lost all claim to that jacket. It belongs to you now."
My eyelids drooped. "That's not how that works."
"Sure it is." He rested his forehead against mine and I could feel his thumb rubbing light circles against the fabric of my dress just above my hip. "You don't choose a leather jacket, it chooses you. And trust me, that one has definitely picked you over me."
I gave a soft snort. "I'm giving it back to you after tonight."
"Don't you dare," he chided, his breath warming my lips. "You'll hurt the jacket's feelings."
"Stop anthropomorphizing the jacket." I was fighting a smile now.
"Make me," he murmured, something in his voice causing my insides to do that whole warm, fuzzy, squishy thing.
And the academy award for best leading actor in the role of Elsa's boyfriend goes to this guy right here.
But had to say, I thought he might be overdoing it a bit. I mean, Sora and Kairi weren't even around anymore to hear any of this. And if we were being monitored by someone under my great uncle's payroll, they certainly couldn't hear it either. I suppose Lea just… really liked getting into character?
Clearing my throat, I unclasped my hands from behind his neck and shifted them down to his chest in an attempt to push myself free of his grasp as I whispered, "We, ah… should probably go speak to the hostess now."
However, his hold on me didn't loosen, his arms remaining firmly secured around my waist. He didn't say anything, just continued to grin down at me. His eyes became hooded as they flicked down to my lips now, making my heart skip a beat.
What was he-?
A sudden loud yelp ruptured the air around us.
Rayne.
Followed by an annoyed yell of, "Goddamnit, Sora! Kairi!"
And that would be Riku.
The two delinquents in question blurred past us and towards the restaurant's front doors, whooping and snickering and razzing their tongues back at their victims climbing out of the Ford Focus. "We'll grab us a table!" Sora called quickly at the same time Kairi shouted, "See ya inside!" Then they both disappeared through the entrance with Rayne and Riku hot on their heels.
I heard Lea sigh. Or maybe he didn't. It was so soft that it was fully possible that I imagined it. Then he released me, slipping one hand into mine and jerking a thumb towards the restaurant with a lopsided smile, "Shall we?"
I stared at him, feeling the night air cool my warmed face. Then I gave a tentative nod and let him lead me inside.
The others hadn't made it far past the doors and we stepped in to find Riku doling out Sora's punishment: death by a thousand noogies. Sora was smacking his cousin's arm and trying to wriggle free, but to no avail. Apparently Kairi had gotten off with only a warning for she was standing off to one side with Rayne, both cracking up as they watched the boys. I looked past them, taking in the restaurant. Strings of fairy lights hung from the ceiling intermixed with strings of multi-colored papers, each bearing cutouts depicting various imagery. The walls were painted with murals of fantastical, mythical creatures of various shapes and sizes with wings and prismatic fur, feathers and scales. This place was absolutely beautiful.
Once the roughhousing had finally settled down, we all approached the hostess, an extremely tiny, extremely old lady wearing a name tag that read Coco who seemed far more interested in napping than greeting new customers. However, she woke up long enough to squint at her list and find our reservation before calling over a man to seat us. He led us through the restaurant and to a large booth in one of the back corners, leaving menus, chips and salsa on the table before flashing us a warm, genuine smile and saying he'd be back to take our orders in a minute.
I started shrugging out of the jacket, feeling Lea assist me before folding it over his arm and gesturing towards the booth with bow and a, "Lady's first." Smiling at him, I took a seat and scooched towards the middle. Lea wasn't too far behind, sitting close enough for our knees to bump against one another. He tossed the jacket on the back shelf of the booth before draping his arm across the top of the cushioned seat behind my head. Rayne took the spot to my left with Riku of course beside her, and on the other side of Lea sat Kairi and Sora. The waiter came back after giving us a little time to peruse the menus and he gathered our food requests before dashing off again.
"So Ray," Kairi piped up, popping a heavily salsa-laden chip into her mouth, "how's the preggers-life treating you?"
"Really well," she nodded contentedly, one hand going to her tummy. "The jellybean's happy and healthy so far and I've just started barely showing in the past couple weeks. No weird food cravings yet, thank god, but those are supposed to be right around the corner."
Sora leaned forward, propping his chin in both hands and beamed, "Do we know yet if I have a lil nephew or niece on the way?"
"We're cousins, Sora. Nephews and nieces would only be if we were brothers," Riku corrected with a wry curve to his lips.
"We don't know yet," Rayne shook her head, "but I'm about four months along now, so hoping to find out at our next appointment."
Lea had shifted his hand to dangle down so he could idly twiddle my braid between his fingers. I could also sense his gaze on me, causing a bit of a flutter in the pit of my stomach. Reminding myself he was just playing a part and it wasn't real, I resisted the urge to squirm and instead pretended not to notice, directing all my focus into reaching for a chip to dip into the salsa.
"Well whatever the wee monkey turns out to be, you can bet Auntie Kairi and Unkie Sora will be here to shower it with all the love and kisses!" Kairi cooed.
Riku twitched and frowned. "I just said that isn't how it-"
"Shush, hon, they're just teasing you now," Rayne poked his cheek with a laugh before looking back over at Kairi. "And you? How's the new gig over at Mickey's going? You've been there, what? About a week now?"
"Mm-hm! It's been a lot of fun working the jewelry counter. Oh sure, there's the occasional asshole customer, but turns out I'm really good at killing them with kindness."
Riku kicked Sora's foot under the table, "What about you, ya freeloader? Any prospects yet?"
He shrugged with that big smile he seemed to always have permanently glued to his face. Just looking at it was starting to make my cheeks hurt. "Couple of interviews coming up, so we'll see!"
Smirking, Riku said, "Can't wait to hear how you screw them up this time, knucklehead."
"Hey!"
Kairi turned to look our direction now. "So what's new and exciting with you two, hm? Lea, you just had that big test, right?" Silence was her answer as I went for another chip. "Lea? Hello, earth to... ah-ha, there!" She rocketed up to her feet, slamming one hand down on the table and pointing the other right in Lea's face. "Lost puppy look!"
"Hm, what now?" he jolted, his hand jerking away from my braid to lay across the booth backrest once more. "Lost pup-? Bah, I told you already, there's no lost puppy look. You need to get your eyes checked, princess."
She scoffed, plopping heavily back down into her seat and smugly take a sip of her soda. "Please. You were bad at hiding it when you guys were dating in secret, and you're even worse at it now that it's all out in the open."
"What's the deal there anyhow?" Sora cocked his head at me. "There's all sorts of wild rumors flying around the mall, like that you're runaway royalty from some far off country just living off the lam now."
"What?!" I blanched, gawking in disbelief. Doing my best to recover with a tiny, awkward laugh, I hastily said, "No, nothing quite so, ah… dramatic. My parents, they're… well off, to be sure, but certainly not royalty. And not from so far away either. Just Arendelle, which is only about an hour north of here."
Chewing on her straw, Kairi eagerly leaned in closer, "I'd love to hear the story of how you two met!"
I stiffened.
Fudge.
Welp, add that to my ever growing list of things I should have thought about in advance but failed miserably to do so. I fiddled a chip between my fingers as I tucked in my bottom lip. Shoot, what was I supposed to tell her? It's not like I'd gotten any better at lying in the past few days since my visit with Father. In fact, I'd been mostly skirting by since then by dodging questions and letting people fill in the blanks for themselves so I didn't have to. Heart thudding in my chest, I opened my mouth, not quite fully sure yet what was going to come out.
"Last summer," Lea was quicker. "In another city."
"Oh, during that big cross-country road trip you took?" Rayne asked him as she leaned into her husband who slung an arm around her shoulders.
Lea tapped his own nose, "That'd be the one, Raindrop."
Kairi gasped, "You two met in a foreign city? How romantic! That's the dream!"
"You have to leave the country in order for it to be a foreign city," Riku shook his head.
"Cram it, you knew what I meant!"
"It was like one of those scenes straight outta a movie," Lea planted an elbow on the table, rubbing a curled finger over his smirk as he watched me out of the corner of his eye. "There I was, just strolling along minding my own business, smack dab in the middle of a jam-packed city street. But then the crowd parted and there she stood. The most gorgeous creature to ever walk the face of this or any other planet in all the cosmos."
Cue my face turning all new shades of red never before witnessed in the history of human eyesight.
Jeez, laying it on a bit thick there, Lea, don't you think?
"So whatdja do?" Kairi pressed, eyes bright and on the edge of her seat. "Sweep her off her feet right then and there?"
He snerked, "Shit no, I walked headfirst into a lamppost."
I smothered a grin behind my hand as the rest of the table erupted into laughter. Sora reached over to punch him lightly in the arm, "Smooth, ya stud. What city was this anyway?"
"Corona," I was the one to answer, surprising myself. Suddenly self-conscious with all eyes turning to me, I quietly added, "I was there for part of my vacation last year."
"By yourself?" Rayne quirked a dubious eyebrow at me. She knew this story was as made-up as my current relationship status was. I could only assume she was trying to poke holes in order to help us solidify this little tale that was being spun so we'd be more prepared for the next time we had to tell the lie.
The thing is, the best lies have a grain of truth to them. I really had been in Corona last summer. "No, I was taking the trip with Anna. We were actually staying over in Traverse Town, but had planned to visit Corona for the day to enjoy a festival there, since it was only a short train ride away. However, Anna disappeared with a guy before we could go. I'd really been looking forward to this festival though and didn't want to miss it, so I took the train over on my own."
"Wait," Kairi slapped both hands down in front of her, eyes widening. "Are you talking about that big lantern festival they do every year?" At my nod, she squealed. "Lucky! Punzie has shown me pictures in magazines, it looks so goddamn pretty! Oh man, I've always wanted to go! Hint, hint," she shouldered Sora, who just chuckled and scratched the back of his head.
"It was actually right as they were launching the lanterns that I saw her," Lea said, folding his arms atop the table now. "She was wearing this cute sundress. White with a lil diamond patterned hem. Split sleeves that were all flowy. Hair down and dancing in the slight breeze." Wow, he was really selling this. He'd even nailed that whole far away look in his eye, like he was seeing something the rest of us couldn't. "And the way those lanterns lit up her smile as she watched them float up, I knew my lowly mortal self was in the presence of a goddess. Knocked the wind right outta me."
"As did that lamppost," Rayne sniggered.
"As did that lamppost," he agreed with a chuckle.
Totally enthralled now, Kairi breathed, "So what happened next?"
"Yeah, what did happen next?" I grinned over at him, the barest note of a challenge to my tone. To the others, it probably just sounded like I was teasing him since obviously I was already supposed to know this story. But now I was almost as invested as Kairi and was genuinely curious where he'd go with it next.
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he looked over at me and he leaned back, propping his elbows up on the back rim of the booth and once more slipping an arm behind my head. "Well after the lantern bit was over, I watched her get onto her train heading back to Traverse Town. So I did what any self-respecting, red-blooded, utterly bewitched male would do: I followed her."
"Stalker," Riku singsonged.
His wife smacked his leg, "Hush, it's sweet!"
He snorted, eyelids drooping, "Yeah, so sweet, the dumbass left his car behind in Corona."
"Psssh, I just took the train back for it later," Lea brushed off. "Anyway, when I found her on board, I sat across from her and worked up the nerve to strike up a conversation."
Rayne looked at me. "You? Talk to a handsome stranger on a train?" She squinted, repeating for emphasis, "You?"
"Heh… what can I say? He can be very charming," I smiled down at my drink, swirling the ice with my straw.
"Even with all of my roguish charm and devilish good looks though, it wasn't easy," Lea laughed. His hand had drifted down to start toying with my braid again. "But she warmed up to me eventually. By the time we arrived at Traverse Town, I was completely smitten. A total goner. She still needed more convincing though, so I managed to persuade her into joining me for a night out on the town. Luckily for me, Traverse Town has a very active night life that goes on for hours long after most other cities have gone to sleep."
"Yeah? Like what?" Sora burbled out around a mouth full of chips, making Kairi giggle as she put a hand over his face to hide it.
He pursed his lips to one side, looking up at the ceiling, "Oh, nothing too exciting. Few odds and ends here and there though… wandering around a record store… a café with a palm reader… a street poet at one sidewalk corner, a belly dancer at another, some stargazing in a park…" Now he smirked over at me, "A carnival with a kiss at the top of the ferris wheel."
A mock gasp from Rayne, "Scandal! And you with a fiancé, young lady!"
I looked away, suddenly feeling guilty and flustered over something that hadn't even really happened. "...ferris wheels can be very enchanting."
And my streak of helping the lie along while not actually lying myself successfully continues!
"And then, and then?" Kairi insisted impatiently, just eating this whole bit of fiction right up.
He chuckled and shrugged, "Just mostly a lot of meandering the streets and talking. We were out all night and watched the sunrise together. Eventually, she had to go meet up with her sister so they could move on to another city for the next leg of their lil vay-kay. But I didn't let her leave without agreeing to meet with me again in a few months."
Kairi was slackjaw now as she whispered, "And did she?"
"Mm-hm!" he hummed happily. "And from there, we kept meeting up, our little get-togethers getting longer and more frequent over time."
"Then what?" She was relentless.
A wolfish curl tugged at one side of his mouth. "What else? I slowly seduced her until she fell helpless into my bed, hungry for the pleasure only I could give her," he waggled his eyebrows.
Of course I'd chosen that exact second to be taking a sip of my drink. And of course I promptly spluttered and choked on it. "Excuse me?" I coughed, laughing incredulously as I elbowed him in the gut.
He gave a pained grunt, but grinned and snagged my hand before I could retract it, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. "I mean that in the most gentlemanly and respectful way possible, of course," he winked at me before looking back over at Kairi. "From there, I convinced her to run away from her family and ditch her two-bit, loser fiancé to be with me. And the rest, as they say, is history!"
"Wow!" she sighed dreamily, slumping back and fanning herself. Then she blinked, "Wait…" A gasp. "Oh my god! You swore off dating about a year ago, which was last summer! Was it cuz that's when you two met and it was love at first sight?!"
"Huh. The two certainly seem to line up perfectly, don't they?" he chirped. He'd rested my hand back down onto the table, his on top of mine, threading our fingers together.
Our waiter popped up again just then. "Your food will be just another moment. In the meantime, please allow us to entertain you with some music." He then turned, clapped his hands twice and called out, "Miguel!"
Out charged a boy in his early teens wearing a red hoodie and lugging a guitar that was white, etched in swirly patterns, and nearly as big as he was. He flashed us a smile huge enough to rival one of Sora's and without further preamble, started strumming away and singing. The kid was actually really good too!
Kairi clapped in delight and Rayne cooed over how adorable he was. Sora gaped in awe at the boy's obvious talent while Riku just grinned, digging into the chips. As I watched him perform, I couldn't help but feel Lea's eyes on me once more instead of on our little musician. I shifted in my seat, slipping my hand free of his and bringing it up to tuck some bangs behind my ear, hiding the growing warmth I felt in my cheeks behind my fingers.
At this rate, I didn't know how I was going to survive fake dating this guy for the rest of the evening, let alone for two more weeks.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Lea's hand closed around mine, stopping me in my tracks. I glanced over my shoulder at him, then back towards where Rayne and Riku were climbing into their car across the parking lot. "With them?"
"Ahhhnt," he made a buzzer noise, grinning. "Wrong! Would the contestant care to venture another guess?"
I gave him some side-eye, feeling one corner of my lips turn up. "...with you?"
"Bingo!" He started walking towards his car, gently tugging me along with him. "I was already so rudely denied my god-given right as the boyfriend to pick you up from your place. No way am I missing out on giving you a lift over to the movie theater. Same goes for driving you back home later tonight, so better make your peace with it now. It's happening."
I felt my smile twitch a fraction wider as I fell into step beside him. "I suppose being my chauffeur is quite the honor and privilege. Wouldn't want to take that away from you."
"Glad that's settled then," he gave a chipper nod, unlocking the front passenger door of his vehicle and holding it open for me as I got in. As he then jogged over to the driver's side while I buckled in, there was a loud meep meep of a car horn and I looked up just as a hot pink Jeep blurred past where we were parked - Kairi and Sora, it seemed, going on to the cinema ahead of us. I waved at them just as Lea had settled in himself and started the engine.
"So," I began once we were on the road, resting my temple against my knuckles with my elbow propped on the window sill, still grinning as I watched him out of the corner of my eye, "you took a road trip last summer?"
He gave a low hum of confirmation, reaching over to turn down the volume on the rock oldies station coming through the radio. "Decided to have one last big adventure before I really buckled down and started taking school seriously. Did a lil soul searching, that whole shtick."
"Ah." My gaze focused on the road ahead once more and I hesitated for a second, gnawing on my lower lip. "...that was a nice story you told. About how we met."
Lea chuckled, leaving one hand on the wheel while moving the other to lay atop the headrest of my seat. "Liked it, didja?"
"Oh definitely." Now I hid my growing smile behind my hand, trying to keep a straight face. "Though I have to admit, I think I was a bigger fan of the original movie adaptation."
I watched him visibly stiffen. "The…?"
Tapping a curled finger to my chin, I muttered, "What was the title again? Before Sunrise, I believe?"
He snerked, then broke out into a full laugh. "Crap, ya caught me. Yeah, I may have borrowed from the plot there a tad."
"Just a bit," I shook my head at him. "You're lucky Sora and Kairi haven't seen the film."
"Kinda surprised you have," he turned the car down a road that would take us towards the mall. "Pretty sure it's older than you are."
"Nothing wrong with old movies," I shrugged before wrinkling my nose at him slightly with a tiny smile. "Kind of sappy though. Wouldn't have thought that'd be your kind of movie."
Looking my way, he smirked, "What can I say? I'm a sappy guy. And hey, at least I didn't steal everything from that flick."
"True. The stuff before the train was all you."
"You helped," Lea pointed out as he pulled up to a stop sign. He then tapped his index against the steering wheel a couple times. "...outta curiosity, why'd you say Corona? Out of all the other places you must of visited on your trip, what made you pick that city?"
As the car accelerated once more, I tilted my head in thought. "Don't know really… I guess I just felt it would be a nice place to meet someone new in. That'd it make for a good story." I paused, watching some tail lights streak past us. "...the lantern festival really was beautiful. Have you ever seen it?"
Lea shook his head as he glanced up at the rearview before shifting lanes, "Nah. Had plans to on the road trip, but something else came up."
"A shame," I sighed wistfully. "You missed out."
"Wouldn't say that," he murmured, a warm flicker in his eyes. "'Sides, there's always next time."
"Suppose that's true," I nodded. "Nice touch, by the way, describing the dress I was wearing. I think I might even own one that's pretty close to it." Don't think I'd been wearing it in Corona though. But I couldn't really remember. It had been over a year ago after all.
He laughed again, fingers combing his scalp before returning the hand to my seat, now on a spot next to my ear. "Well, I did help you pack your clothes from your old condo just a couple days ago. I probably saw it then."
"Good point." That made sense. It would have been too much of a coincidence if that'd actually been what I'd had on that day. But now… should I be worried that I hadn't really been in that dress? What if someone found out the mismatch in the story? No… no, that was just me overthinking things again. Even if the tale ever reached the ears of the Duke's goon, it's not like they could go back in time to fact check. "Just one more thing now." My eyes narrowed at him, at odds with my grin. "Might want to edit the ending a bit."
"Which part?" he asked a touch too innocently, already turning us into the Dusk Town Center parking lot. "Running away to be with me? Hasn't that been the story all along?"
I rolled my eyes at him. "Try a little before that."
Wouldn't have thought it possible to both purse one's lips and smile at the same time, but Lea proved me wrong in that moment. "Hmm… oh! Well, figured wooing you over the course of months sounded more believable, but if you think it works better as weeks or even days, then-"
"No no. Little after that."
"Well then, now you got me stumped cuz I know you just couldn't possibly be talking about the absolute masterpiece that was the slow seducing, helpless bed falling, pleasure hungry part."
A snort. "Why yes, actually, I could be talking about that and in fact am."
"But that's the best part!" he protested, turning to park in a space right next to a familiar Ford Focus. "It's the heart and soul, the very essence of the story! The pièce de résistance, the crowning glory."
With a good natured scoff, I unfastened my seatbelt as the car shuddered into powering down. "Well decrown it because you're dropping that bit."
He lifted his chin slightly and gave a dignified sniff, "I am a storyteller, El. An arteest. You wouldn't ask Leonardo da Vinci to remove the smile from the Mona Lisa."
Well someone had a high opinion of himself. Which honestly came as zero surprise. I fixed him with a dull stare. "Drop it or your jacket gets a giant, sticky stain before the night is out." And with that, I opened my door.
Lea scrambled out of the car and rushed over to join me on my side just as I slammed the door shut behind me. He had the decency to only spend a couple seconds looking mildly miffed at having been denied the opportunity to open and hold the car door for me before his frown melted into a smile once more. "Jeez, blackmail? Never thought you'd stoop so low. But eh," he shrugged, "jacket's black, it'll be fine."
"You're failing to see the big picture here," I crossed my arms as I waited for Rayne and Riku to get out of their own vehicle. My guess was they were probably going for another round of Seven Minutes in Heaven in there. Smirking at Lea, I elaborated, "Because then I'll wash it."
"Egads," he mocked gasp, splaying a hand against his chest, "the horror."
My smirk curled wickedly. "In a washing machine."
As my roomies finally vacated their car (faces flushed, I might add), Lea actually paled. "But it's dry clean only!"
"That's right," I said smugly and turned to walk away. "So nix that line or the jacket gets it."
"You fight dirty," he muttered as he caught up to me, slipping his hand into mine. However, he was grinning.
Huh. That wasn't what I'd been expecting. IE the face of a man who'd just suffered a crippling defeat by my hands.
I narrowed my eyes up at him. "You certainly seem pretty happy about the impending, inevitable demise of your jacket."
Now the grin was joined by a dimple as we walked. "Well, it's just that in order for you to make good on your threat, you have to take my jacket hostage. Meaning you're gonna hafta keep it after all." His head dipped down closer to mine as he swung our hands slightly. "I count that as a win for me."
...well crud.
Score one for Lea there.
Shrieks and giggles suddenly erupted behind us before Sora tore past us towards the mall's entrance with Kairi riding piggyback. Rayne laughed and tugged Riku into a stumble behind her so they could catch up while Lea and I continued to take our time, bringing up the rear.
We made our way through the food court and over to Cinema XIII. The manager with long, silver hair that I'd seen there last time was present again, off to one side where he was setting up a huge cardboard display for the latest Star Wars movie. I watched him scowl and fiddle with the lifesize lightsaber cutouts as our group purchased tickets from a blonde chick with a weird hairdo that kind of resembled antennae. As we'd approached, I could have sworn I'd seen her boredly cleaning her fingernails with a small knife, but there was no sign of the blade by the time we'd reached her register. Perhaps my eyes had just been playing tricks on me.
Tickets for our whodunit comedy flick in hand, we then moved over to concessions which was being worked by that same teen with the emo haircut that I'd also spotted here a couple weeks ago. He hardly glanced up from the book he was reading as Riku and Rayne ordered snacks and drinks from him, Sora waiting in line behind them with Kairi still latched onto his back.
"Alright, whatcha want? My treat," Lea asked as he watched the flat screens hanging behind the counter scroll flashy ads for crisp, buttery popcorn and fizzing, bubbly soda.
I blinked. "What?" Then I frowned at him. "Oh no, not happening. You already paid for dinner despite my multiple protests. I'm not letting you buy me candy too."
We were only fake dating after all, and I wouldn't even want to make a real boyfriend pay for everything!
"But it's my right as-"
I put my finger to his lips, silencing him as my eyelids drooped. "Enough with playing the boyfriend card already. You're having too much fun with that."
He puckered up and planted a tiny peck on my fingertip, sending a small jolt straight to my heart as I quickly jerked my hand back. He chuckled, "Just tell me what your fave candy is."
"Shouldn't you be able to guess?" I arched an eyebrow, stubbornly ignoring the way the tip of my finger still had a slight tingle. "Isn't that like your special gift or whatever?"
"Only with ice cream," he lightly corrected.
"Right," I crinkled my eyes at him. "How's that coming along again?"
His shoulders bobbed up and down. "It's a process."
"My turn!" Sora suddenly proclaimed loudly in front of us, dropping Kairi off his back and spinning around to get behind her.
His girlfriend gasped, "Sora no!"
"Sora yes!" he cackled, jumping onto her back, arms hugging her shoulders tight and legs wrapping around her waist as her hands automatically shifted to grasp beneath his knees. To her credit, she managed to stand for three whole shaky seconds before collapsing beneath her boyfriend's weight into a tangled heap on the floor with him.
Ah, to be young.
Never mind the fact that I was pretty sure I was only like a year older than them.
With a soft snort through my nose, I glanced back at Lea. "Well, while you keep processing, I'm going to go find our seats."
I turned to go, but he pulled me back with the hold he still had on my hand. "C'mon, just lemme buy ya something small," he insisted as he hopped over the Sora/Kairi knot that was still trying to disentangle itself, forcing me to gingerly step over the two of them as well.
Shaking my head with a sigh, I said, "Why won't you just let it go?"
He beamed. "Cuz what schmoopsie-poo wants, schmoopsie-poo gets."
Oh no he didn't.
"Uh-uh, no. Veto. You are not calling me that," I jabbed a finger into his chest.
There was a sly gleam to his eye. "Tell me what candy you want or I won't stop."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Wanna bet?" he flashed a toothy grin as we stepped up to the counter now that my roommates had stepped off to one side, already munching away at their newly purchased sweets. "You'll think you died and went to schmoopsie-poo heaven."
I gave a small huff and looked away. "Small price to pay. Not budging on this."
"Fine. You've forced my hand." He turned his head to the concession worker, slapping his palm down on the countertop and proudly declaring, "I'll have one of everything, my good man!"
"What?! No, no, stop, he's joking," I hastily told the cashier, who froze mid-ringing the order up as he gave us a flat look with the one blue eye not hidden behind bangs. To Lea, I whispered, "What do you think you're doing?"
He shrugged, grin not faltering. "Figure ya gotta like at least one of 'em."
I stared at him. Then my shoulders slumped and I hung my head, grumbling, "...Junior Mints."
"You heard the lady," he chirped to the theatre employee. "And throw in a small popcorn and large Kupo-Kola too please!"
Once the junk food was acquired and paid for, we moved out of the way to join Riku and Rayne as Sora and Kairi bought their own goodies. While we were waiting, I opened up my candy and reached inside, retrieving a minty, chocolate-coated treat and popping it into my mouth.
"Can I have one?" Lea asked beside me.
I gave him a blank look. Then I glanced down at his hands, otherwise occupied with a full soda cup and a bag practically bursting with popcorn. Digging another Junior Mint out and holding it up between us, my gaze met his once more. "Say ahh."
Face brightening, his lips parted wide.
I inserted it into his nostril.
He blinked a couple times, then snorted which had the byproduct of dislodging the Junior Mint. "Okay, guess maybe I deserved that for being a lil pushy about getting you the candy."
"You most certainly did," I said matter-of-factly, eating another one. A pause while I slowly chewed before swallowing and mumbling, "...but thanks for doing it anyway."
"Heh. Don't mention it."
Kairi and Sora rejoined us then, arms piled high with sugary delights. Jeez, all that on top of the gigantic Mexican dinners they'd both devoured less than an hour ago? One had to wonder how the two of them managed to stay so skinny.
It didn't take long for us to locate our theater and when we entered, all the lights were dimmed for the trailers that had already started to play. We quietly found our seats close to the middle of the auditorium and we settled into them, Lea to the right of me and making up one end of our group while Rayne took up my other side, the rest of the gang to her right. It seemed the cinema had recently renovated with new, barely-used cushiony sofa seating, the kind that reclined.
As I pushed the button that popped out the chair's footrest and made myself more comfortable, I caught a glimpse of the others. Half way through a strand of red licorice, Rayne flinched when Riku was suddenly in her face and chomping down on the other end of the candy. Grinning, he took a few more bites, bringing their lips closer together until he could give her a smooch before pulling away, looking quite pleased with himself as she blushed and snerked, giving his shoulder a light shove. Kairi was tossing Milk Duds towards Sora's open, awaiting mouth and rewarding him with little kisses every time he successfully caught one.
Worrying my lower lip between my teeth, I glanced towards Lea out of the corner of my eye as he crunched away on some popcorn. Should we be acting all… couply right now? Like the others were? I mean, it was a dark theater… did we really need to keep the act up in here too? Would anyone really notice? Then again, I'd noticed our friends being all sickeningly cute and I hadn't even been trying to, my eyes had just wandered. So maybe it wasn't such a stretch to consider the two of us were also possibly being observed, even in here.
My gaze flicked down to the armrest I shared with Lea. It was wide enough for both our arms to lay on it side by side, elbows touching. He wasn't holding my hand at the moment, instead just resting his about an inch away from mine. Which, now that I noticed, actually felt a bit weird, oddly enough. I guess I was starting to get used to it. But perhaps I should look at this as an opportunity for some more practice. An exercise in me being the one for once to initiate a display of affection. I seriously couldn't get away with him being the one to start it all the time, right? Surely, I had to act like I liked him too.
Which, to be fair, I kind of did.
Even if it was a secret.
But now I had to wonder how does one go about, ah… what was the term? ...making a move? I'd never had to do it with my ex. I'd never particularly felt the urge, nor had he ever really encouraged me to have more initiative in that area. He'd always been the one to take charge and that seemed to be the way he'd liked it. It seemed to be what was expected of our relationship, by him, by my family, by the world of upper society that I had lived in for so long. But I was no longer in that world. Things were different here. I was different. And I needed to show that to my parents. And one way I could show that was by doing this.
So then… exactly how do I do this?
...well I suppose I could start by moving my hand in the general direction of his. Seemed simple enough… right?
Gulping and holding my breath, I slowly, oh so very slowly started reaching for his hand. As my fingers crept closer, the pounding in my ribcage grew louder and louder. A hairbreadth away from skin contact, I hesitated, what little courage I'd mustered already dwindling. But after a second, my face hardened. I needed to do this. For the sake of Operation Boyfriend But Shh Not Really. For the sake of a continued future free from my parents' control. With a newfound resolve burning in my chest, I pushed on.
My pinky barely brushed against his knuckle.
Nope! No way. Mm-mm, not happening!
I snatched my hand back, blushing furiously.
The blush of a failure. Pathetic.
However the touch, no matter how light and brief, hadn't gone unnoticed. Lea glanced my way, his head tipping slightly. Then he smiled, shifting his popcorn out of his lap over to his right while moving the soda from the cupholder between us to the one on his other side. Then he lifted the armrest separating us, folding it back between our chairs before slinging an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close so my head was pillowed by his chest.
I tensed for several seconds before relaxing against him, clearing my throat and, if possible, blushing even harder.
Well then.
Guess I no longer needed to worry about us not looking couply.
Even if I hadn't been the one to initiate.
...tomorrow. I would do a better job tomorrow.
As the last of the trailers ended and opening credits for the movie began filling the big screen, Lea ducked his head down next to mine. I could feel him grinning against my ear as he whispered, "This boyfriend model comes equipped with all the latest technology, including hilarious movie commentary. Would you like that feature enabled now?"
I leaned my head back a bit as I turned to look him in the eye. He cocked a playful eyebrow at me. Feeling one corner of my lips tug up, I whispered back, "Commentary on."
"You got it."
I was not disappointed.
"Is this really totally necessary?"
"Oh absolutely. Your uncle's spies could be anywhere, ever vigilant and watching at all times."
"Even here? In the parking lot for my own apartment?" I frowned dubiously.
I could feel him nodding against my hair. "Especially here. I'll have you know I've seen at least three cars pass us already, each one more suspicious and shady than the last."
Date night had been a rousing success, if I did say so myself. We'd had a good time with friends, dinner was amazing and delicious, and the movie had been excellent. But as everyone knows, all good dates (even the fake ones) must come to an end. And at the end of every date, some sort of goodnight ritual is often at the very least customary, if not absolutely essential. Traditionally, this usually takes the form of the infamous goodnight kiss. However, since I'd already taken any sort of liplock completely and one hundred percent off the table, Lea had instead opted for a hug.
One… extremely and uncomfortably long hug.
...okay, that was a lie. It wasn't uncomfortable at all. In fact, was actually quite nice. Pleasant, even. Ten out of ten, would recommend.
We stood next to his car at the moment, my apartment building just a few yards away. After he'd parked and we'd both climbed out, he'd pulled my arms up to wrap around his neck, his hands once again finding their way under the leather jacket to encircle my waist, hugging me close as he'd rested his cheek atop my head. And so we had remained for quite some time now.
Kairi and Sora were no longer with us, having parted ways back at the mall, but I could see Rayne and Riku off to one side near their own vehicle, enthusiastically taking part in some cuddle time themselves while they waited for me. Which actually I really appreciated. Without their added presence here, I'd probably be getting a lot more awkward a lot more quickly about The Hug That Would Not End.
That said…
"We've been at this for at least five minutes now. Wouldn't you call that a bit, er.." I shifted my feet, resisting the urge to squirm, "...excessive?"
His hold on me didn't budge. "Gotta be convincing. 'Sides, we're obviously still in the honeymoon period of our relationship. You know, when the couple takes forever and a day telling each other goodbye a thousand times before actually leaving. Otherwise known as the No-You-Hang-Up-First phase."
My brow furrowed. "I thought that was only made-up for TV. Real people don't actually do that, do they?"
"Yup," I felt another nod. "Trust me, I'm an expert. I know these things."
I squinted off into space. "...haven't you only ever done one night stands?"
"Shush, I said trust me on this," he murmured.
And shush I did. I suppose I could look at this as a sort of… endurance training? Get me more used to his hugs so I'd be less awkward about them in public? Make them seem more natural? Yeah, okay. This might be good for me. Let's see how long I could keep this up.
...answer? Not long.
Tentatively trying to pull away, I began, "Alright, maybe we should-"
"One more minute," he insisted, squeezing me tighter and shifting his head down now to instead nuzzle against my neck. His nose was cold and his breath tickled against my skin, making my cheeks warm. Welp, so much for not squirming.
Huh. He really seemed to be taking this whole pretend boyfriend thing very seriously. This was some extreme dedication to the role.
And there my insides went all over again, doing the whole warm, fuzzy, squishy thing. Alright, just breathe. Deep, calming breaths. Remember: Conceal, don't feel.
...maybe just focus on the concealing part. The not feeling part was already a lost cause.
"Ya know," Rayne's voice suddenly piped up nearby, causing me to jump, "maybe you two don't have to say goodnight just yet." Lea straightened up, loosening his grip on me just enough for us both to turn our heads to see she'd joined us. Gracing us with a sly smirk, she said, "I mean, if you want to really drive this date home for any eyes that might be prying, Lea could always, ya know..." her eyebrows bounced as she leaned in closer to whisper conspiratorially, "stay the night."
"What?!" My face erupted into blistering heat, the likes of which would've put the Sahara Desert to utter shame. "N...No! Absolutely not! How could you possibly even-"
She laughed, her finger booping my nose. "Relax, you silly goose. Of course he'd only sleep on the living room sofa! S'not like your grunkle's minion would have x-ray vision into our home."
Oh.
That's what she'd meant.
Well of course that's what she'd meant. It's not like she'd ever really suggest…
Actually, no, this was Rayne we were talking about here. I honestly wouldn't have put it past her.
She elbowed Lea in the arm, "So whaddya say, stud?"
He smiled, removing one hand from my waist to rub at the nape of his neck. "Well, I'd planned on getting some reading done for my classes tonight. But I do have my book bag in the backseat, so I suppose I could just as easily read here on your couch." His gaze shifted back down to mine, "That is of course, as long as you're okay with it!"
My face still recovering from its abrupt and devastating heatwave, I looked down and muttered, "Well, I… I suppose, ah… sure. Okay. I mean, just to keep up appearances… " My eyes flicked back up towards Rayne, "Thanks. I guess that's… actually a pretty good idea."
"Of course it is! I came up with it!" she beamed, planting her fists on her hips and puffing up her chest. Then she turned back to her husband, pressing her lips to his cheek as she linked her arm in his and led him over to the building entrance. Lea at last fully released me, but only long enough to unlock his car and pull out a messenger bag that looked heavy with textbooks. Kicking the door shut, he slung the strap of the bag over his head to hang across his chest before slipping an arm around my shoulders, grinning down at me as we followed the other two inside.
Once in our apartment, he removed the arm while Rayne pulled some spare pillows and bed sheets from the closet, tossing them onto the longest couch for Lea. Then grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, she unscrewed the cap and held her drink up high. "A toast! To Lea's sleepover! May it be the first of many!" she declared before tossing her head back to chug half the bottle.
Riku just snerked, shaking his head while Lea scratched his cheek with a weak chuckle and walked over to drop his bag on the sofa next to the blankets. I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my fingers between my eyebrows with a soft sigh. Still, she had a point. I suppose it was only natural for my "boyfriend" to stay the night with some amount of frequency. Oh gosh, I hope this wouldn't be too much of an imposition on Lea.
As Rayne recapped the water bottle and put it down on the kitchen table, Riku stepped up to her, taking both her hands in his and pressing their foreheads together. "Hon, why don't we head to bed early tonight?" he asked, tone low and eyes hooded.
"Mmm," she breathed him in, smiling up at him through lowered lashes and nodding, "sounds good." As he pulled her towards their bedroom, Rayne glanced back at us. "Good night, you two! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" she winked and waved before disappearing through the door, closing it behind her.
Silence followed. It felt strangely sudden and almost deafening.
I slowly turned to look at Lea.
He looked back, giving me a tiny smile.
That's when it struck me.
This was the first time in two full days I'd been alone with Lea. Like, really alone. Not in public, not where we had to put on the boyfriend-girlfriend act. Even when it'd just been the two of us in his car earlier tonight, even then we'd still had kind of been in the relative safety of pretend date mode. Besides, driving around in a car was completely different from being alone with him here, now, in my apartment late at night. Now that there was no more reason for all the hand holding, forehead kisses, and other little touches, things felt… well I wouldn't exactly say wrong per se, but more felt just kind of… off?
Panic was beginning to set in.
My mind was drawing a total blank.
I… didn't know how to be around him now. Not when we didn't have to fake a relationship anymore.
I'd forgotten how to act normal.
I think he could sense it too. The weirdness that had suddenly popped up out of nowhere. His eyebrows knit together, his gaze shifting about for a couple seconds. Then he opened his mouth to say something.
"Good night!" I loudly blurted out first.
Then I was in my bedroom so fast, you would have thought I'd spontaneously developed the power to teleport.
I slammed the door shut behind me, pressing my spine flat to it, eyes wide and taking shallow breaths through my nose. A few seconds passed where I just forced myself to inhale and exhale slowly a few times, trying to calm down. Then I winced, lightly banging the back of my head against the door.
Good job, Elsa. Way to make things mildly awkward. And for no real reason at all, you useless, hermitic dope!
With a small scowl, I shrugged out of the leather jacket and tossed it onto my bed. Then I unzipped my ankle boots, kicking them off and started pacing the length of my room back and forth, my hands twisting at my braid.
I couldn't just leave things like that. I had to talk to him. I had to toughen up and find an excuse to march my butt back out there. But what excuse?
My feet paused mid step as I glanced around my room for a minute before landing on one of my walls. Not just any wall. The one I shared with Riku's and Rayne's bedroom. Then I lightly tapped one fist into my palm. That's it! I quickly moved to my nightstand, opening the top drawer. Amongst its contents was a plastic baggie of earplugs. Digging out a pair and dropping the bag back into the drawer before closing it again, I then stepped over to my door. I took a second to take a deep breath and gather myself, standing up straighter and flicking my braid back behind me. Then with a firm, determined nod, I turned the knob and pulled, walking back out into the living room.
Lea was sitting on the couch that would be doubling for his bed tonight, arms splayed out wide to either side atop its backrest while he read the textbook that laid open in his lap. He'd pulled his hair out of its ponytail so his crimson locks were once again wild and free and he'd taken off his long-sleeved undershirt, now just wearing the tee.
Looking up at me, he all but leapt up to his feet. "El! Hi! I-" he grunted as the book he'd apparently forgotten was in his lap crashed down hard onto his foot.
I sucked in a tiny breath through my teeth with a frown, taking a step forward and reaching a hand out, "You okay?"
"Fine," he groaned. "I didn't need that toe anyway. It was only holding me back. Just dead weight." He laughed it off as he picked the textbook up off the floor, tossing it behind him onto the cushions before crossing his arms, "So, was there, ah… did you forget something?"
"Yes," I took a little step towards him, then frowned, glancing away. "Well, no…" I started to take a step back before catching myself. Wrong way, dork. "That is to say, sort of… er, I just...hm…" I thrust one fist forward, opening it palm facing up to reveal the earplugs, "Here!"
He stared down at them blankly. Then at me.
"Oh!" I gasped. "Right! Some sort of explanation would probably help." I gave a nervous heh. "So… uh… you know, those two," I gestured with my chin towards my roommates' bedroom door, "well, they just… the look they were giving each other before they went to bed, it's… well, it's a look I'm very familiar with from them. You know the look, the kind that should come with its own Marvin Gaye soundtrack. And those two… when they get going, they can really rattle the old headboard, if you know what I mean." A beat. Then I blanched. "Of course you know what I mean! Right, moving on. So uh… they are not quiet about it and they're definitely not quick. And these walls? They're thin. I'm talking like tissue paper thin. And not even the good Kleenex Deluxe kind of tissue, more like the cruddy, two-bit kind you'd get at the dollar store that just disintegrates if you even so much as breathe on it." Great, now I was just plain babbling. "These walls may as well not even be there for all the sound they block. Or rather, don't block. Then again, if they weren't there, then we'd not only hear but also see-" Wrap it up, girl, wrap it up. "A-Anyway! So just… just take these. You'll thank me later, believe me."
His eyes crinkled and he nodded, plucking them from my hand. "Alright, I'll take your word for it. Thanks."
Good. Okay. Yes, this was going well.
...huh. Though… slight hitch in the plan…
What now? I hadn't exactly thought this far ahead.
Maybe this was enough. I could now just make a graceful exit, leaving things in a better place than where I had previously. Yeah, that sounded good.
I gave him a tight-lipped grin, inching backwards as I pointed towards my room. "Okay then, I think I'll just…" But as I turned, my eyes landed on Rayne's and Riku's door again and I froze and grimaced. "Ah, shoot," I hissed under my breath.
"Problem?" I heard Lea ask behind me.
I shook my head, "I meant to ask Rayne to unzip my dress before she went to bed since the zipper is just where I can't reach and-" I blinked, then glanced over my shoulder at him sheepishly before fully turning to face him. "And why am I even telling you this? Forget I said anything. It's nothing, I'll figure it out."
"I can do it," he tossed the ear plugs onto the coffee table between us before stepping around it.
Waving my hands rapidly back and forth in front of me, I said, "No, it's fine. Really, you don't have to-"
"Don't be silly, just let me help you," he came to stop in front of me.
I tucked in my lower lip. Maybe I was just being silly about this. I mean, what was the big deal? Really? "...o-okay," I sighed, turning my back to him once more and sweeping my braid forward over one shoulder, running my hands down its length a few times. At least my old nemesis, The Blush, had the common courtesy to wait until I was no longer looking at Lea before creeping its way up into my cheeks.
I could sense him taking another step closer to me, could hear his gentle breathing as I felt his fingers undo the clasp at the top of the zipper. One of his fingertips incidentally grazed my skin and I couldn't stop a tiny shiver. Then there was a pause. Like… a long pause. I frowned straight ahead, uncertain. Nothing seemed to be happening. I turned my head slightly, stopping just short of actually being able to look back at him. "...everything okay?"
"Uh… yeah, the uh…" he cleared his throat, "...the stupid thing just got stuck for a sec there, but it's all good now." At last, the sound of the dress unzipping reached my ears. "There ya go, you're all set!"
My hand darted to clutch at the back of my dress, holding it together as I whipped around to face him. My blush? Only seemed to be growing in strength. I started backing away, "Th-thanks… for that. That was really… something. Nice! That was nice. Of you. To do that… for me. I-" I crashed into my door frame and stumbled. "Oops. Heh. Who put that there? Um… anyway…"
And on that eloquent and fully formed note, I dashed into my room, banging the door closed. Then I puffed out a breath, slumping down to sit on the floor as I pinched the bridge of my nose.
Great. Just dandy. I hadn't left things mildly awkward this time. Oh no, I'd only left them mega, ultra, super awkward now. Progress! Superb. Just perfect.
That's it. It's decided. I'm not fit for human contact. I was just going to barricade myself in this room and never come out ever again. Ever. Period. The outside world would be better off without me anyhow. Good bye, people. Hello, sweet sweet solitude. I-
I heard a muffled buzz and my head snapped up. It'd come from Lea's jacket on my bed. I squinted at it for a second. Then it clicked. My phone! I half crawled, half scrabbled over to it, digging into the pocket and pulling it out, swiping the screen.
There was a new text from Lea.
2nite was fun
I blinked, looking over at my door. Then back down at my phone, pursing my lips to one side. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a second. Then slowly I began to type.
I thought so too.
I waited as those three little dots hopped in a row.
We shud totes do it again sometime
A huff of amusement escaped through my nose, the tension starting to leave my body.
I'd really like that.
Then I tipped my head to one side, grinning slightly as I tapped away further.
I'm paying next time though.
The dots were dancing on my screen again.
Aight, if u insist. But b warned, Im not a cheap date
Now I actually laughed.
I can live with that.
Perhaps I'd been a bit too hasty. Maybe there was no need to barricade myself in here. Not just yet anyway. I'd hold off for a bit.
At least long enough to see what tomorrow would bring.
Author's Note: Anyone else notice Lea's shirts seem to be getting tighter and tighter every new excuse he has to see Elsa out of his work clothes? I think he's subconsciously putting on a courtship display to present himself as a sexually viable mate xD Ahem, moving on… Fun Fact 1: Fuente Del Oro is a real, Coco-themed restaurant over in Disneyland Park in Paris! Google translate says the name means "Gold Fountain", oooOOooo pretty! I really hope Coco makes it into one of the future KH games eventually! Fun Fact 2: Elsa's dress this chapter is inspired by her purple dress from when she sings Into The Unknown in Frozen 2! Just picture it shorter and more cocktail-dressy. And I know in the movie, that purple dress is a nightgown, but shhh, we'll just forget that part. And the dress Lea described in his "how we met" story? Loosely based on Elsa's Show Yourself dress - again just picture it shorter, more practical and more sundressy xD Also if you haven't heard of it, Before Sunrise is a real movie, not to mention a real SAPPY movie. Kind of slow, but cute. I'd actually never heard of it until I started writing this chapter - saw a gif go by on tumblr of the lead couple from the movie doing something adorable that made me go "oh gosh, that's SO Lea and Elsa!" and had to watch it xD I'm kind of happy it came along when it did though, cuz it gave me inspiration for Lea's "how we met" story :)
Next chapter, what new challenges will Elsa face in her adventures in fake dating? Will she ever be able to work up the courage to initiate a display of affection herself? Just how much of a "not a cheap date" is Lea really? What about his shirts? CAN they get any tighter? Stay tuned!
Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!
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#kingdom hearts#frozen#elsa#axel#fanfiction#lea#fanfic#kingdom hearts fanfiction#frozen fanfiction#kh fanfiction#kh fanfic#frozen fanfic#kingdom hearts fanfic#axelsa#fluff#romcom#slow burn#kh3#my writing#ice cream and fire oven pizza#rare pair#crossover pairing#humor#snark
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