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sweettodo · 3 years

Text

Promiscuous.

⟿ Levi Ackerman x freader x Eren Jaeger

Includes : threesome, swearing, smut.

word count : 4,5k.

for 300 followers, i promised i would bless you all with a few stories. this was a tough plot to come up with b/c the age difference, but i always come thru :)). enjoy. thank you for 300 friends, readers, and fans. one more story on the way, hope you like !!

Being in the scouts wasn't necessarily all that bad, especially when you had all the strong, agile men to look at all day long.

You didn't bite your tongue, the gushy, teenage girl flirtatiousness that you bestowed upon not one, not two, but a good sum of the boys you worked and trained with every day. Most of whom were your closest friends, who put up with your promiscuousness. For the most part, they fed into it, reciprocating the behavior. But it couldn't be avoided that you took a special liking towards your Captain; Mr. Ackerman himself.

Call it unnatural, call it unusual, but you had a justification for liking him so much. If he said the right thing in the right context, your knees would be shaky and weak, for instance, when he demanded you to 'shut up' half-jokingly for fooling around with Connie too much. You left training that day with a waterfall between your legs, leaving you stunned for at least a week.

The ideas in your head were endless and slightly disturbing. There was no denying you were captivated by him, and he knew it.

Not to mention he took a fondness to you too...

Well, not how you quite anticipated him too. He just believed you were a capable scout, thus him taking you under his wing with your friends. Leaving aside your whorish comments. He took your ignorant attitude with a grain of salt, not allotting you the time of the day- which only made it more of a challenge to get what you yearned much for.

He would scoff, walk away and roll his eyes, reprimanding you on behaving yourself and acting your age. You were 19, you were acting your age, 'I could be worse,' you mumbled under your breath.

Being the species of girl who was drawn to a particular type of man, power play, that sharp attitude which one with a level head and a drop of common sense would take as a definite red flag, the type of man that would punish you for being horny or bratty- you could only dream- it was also clear you couldn't bluff and say that you didn't favor the infamous Eren Jaeger: the strong-willed, wild, dominant and overbearing youthful man. He could command you to get on your knees, and you would in a flash.

Alas, you would not be seeing the pearly gates with what went through your mind about the long-haired, tall, demanding man. On the plus side-unlike Levi- Eren enjoyed the attention you gave him, he played the game with you.

And he played the game good- you liked it.

On numerous occasions, you would be more than touchy with Eren, the little 'not so serious' back rub, or a hand on his thigh under the table to make him hot and bothered. And once or twice, the rare make-out session in an alleyway while your friends shopped or by the stable of horses one time when you were sixteen. Though the sexual tension grew once you turned eighteen when you two were less apt to get in trouble for your conduct- yet you never took it all the way, liking the idea of having him on his toes every time he saw you.

Anyways, today was different than most days, you all were honored with a few days of relaxing, sleeping in, and extra time to eat and shower with no training, or missions.

Appreciating the peace, you lay in your bed buried under the blankets half asleep, taking in the unusual time of relaxation. While nearing slumber again, you're rudely interrupted. A pounding on your door riddles throughout your body, frightening you half to death, you flinch, sitting up in an instant.

"Food! y/n." oh, it was Connie.

You untangle from the blankets, sauntering to your wardrobe, and pulling out a regular old white shirt with shorts. The heat was not something to take lightly around here, you could collapse and suffer from a heat stroke if you weren't careful, so you rolled up your shorts a little and slipped on shoes, taming your hair and heading out of your messy room towards the mess hall, eyes finding your friends and groggily plunging into the bench besides Eren and your other buddies, "sleep well?" Connie laughs, you scowl at him.

"Yea! I was dreamin' about you too! Too bad you ruined it, I was just getting to the good part."

Connie laughs and shakes his head, shoveling food down into his mouth, "I don't even wanna know what that dream was about." Jean grumbles, ruffling his hair to remove it from his clammy forehead; Jean was a difficult one to crack, he usually blushed and would cut your trifling demeanor right off at the knees, he was more for Mikasa's quiet and ethical personality.

"Shut it Kirstein- I do!" Connie protests, you wink at him.

"I'll tell you when I get you alone, how 'bout that Springer?"

Eren could be heard from your left, snorting, you glance over and see his arm raise and head towards your back, yanking your bra and snapping it back against your skin, you unleash an 'ouch' and attempt to reach back and rub the area, "White shirt with a red bra underneath? Who're you tryna' impress?" You shrug.

"Captain, of course."

"More like you dressed in the dark this morning." Eren bullies.

"Captain, what?" Connie and Sasha childishly roll and bounce around in their seats, bellowing laughter while you slowly turn around to face your boss, he reiterates one more time before you chuckle and scratch the back of your neck.

"Talking about how good my boss looks today," the words that roll off your tongue make The tense up and sigh in annoyance, beginning to walk away, you pout, tilting your head, "am I wrong?"

"Keep it up, y/n, I'll have you in a cell indefinitely if you continue this adolescent behavior." He doesn't look twice at you, leaving as quickly as he came. Halting your comments right as they came flying out of your mouth, he had to have been enjoying them! Perhaps a little.

Right as the man in charge begins to leave the hall, he stops, peers his head over to meet your eyes.

"-In chains." Your eyes widen, a perverted grin growing onto your face, looking left to right baffled, 'in chains?' gawking to see if any of your friends noticed the innuendo, but it seemed they were well absorbed in their own business.

But someone heard him.

"In chains?"

You look at Eren, he shared the same shock as you, you wriggle your eyebrows and nudge his side, "I'm not the only one who heard it, so maybe I'm not going crazy." You giggle, finishing your meal and gossiping amongst your friends until it was time to go.

To pass time during the day, you all wasted hours cleaning up to your captain's expectations, finally relieving yourselves for the rest of the evening before dinner; walking down the streets of your town, stopping at the shops down the gravel streets. While everyone talks, your head is elsewhere; replaying that remark Levi made about the chains, borderline obsessing over it- rightfully so.

When he said the word 'chains', you instantly recalled the context behind his innuendo, unless you were going insane, but you had made a joke- your first endeavor at flirting with your boss, mentioning to him using the same chains he used on Eren in court a few years back, your friends condemning your extraverted behavior on the spot; when to no avail, Levi did not feed into that well, sending you to isolation shortly after. And then to Erwin's office to explain yourself... in front of him, Commander Hange, and Levi. Nonetheless, it didn't stop you from toying with the man.

You were somewhat... wild.

Enjoying the rest of your stress-free hours, you spend the evening sitting comfortably in the large common area after dinner; all of you except Eren, who didn't appear at dinner either. God knows where he was.

You lounge beside Armin and Jean, your head on Jean's shoulder per-usual.

"Jean, has Mikasa told you how good you look today?" You hum, his face is instantly soaked up in a rosy flush as he throws his hands over his ears to block your weird comments from reaching his ears, "Mikasa?" you quirk an eyebrow.

"Don't be absurd, y/n" she laughs, "Jean, don't listen to her."

"Jean, you look extra good today," you lean over closer to him, "just thought I'd tell ya'."

"Yeah, yeah." He cracks a small smile, you pat his shoulder then fall back into your seat.

"Awh- c'mon Kirstein, you know I-"

"Y/n, Captain needs to see you..." Eren's voice interrupts the chatting, his head peers into the room, you and your friends falling silent.

"You're probably in trouble again." Armin sighs disappointingly. You promptly stand, "good luck." dragging your feet towards your supposed 'escort', Meeting Eren at the door frame of the corridor, his hands stuffed in his pockets with a deadpan look, watching you begin to take lead ahead of him, "how do you know Levi wants to see me?" You question, examining him whilst walking through the hallways, up the stairs, and around the corner, a few feet away from your Captain's headquarters.

"We talked."

With an uncertain look on your face, churning with turmoil, Eren is knocking once, then twice before pushing open the engraved wooden door, 'Captain didn't even ask who it was at the door-' you furrow your eyebrows, his hand on your back, quickly whisking you into the large room, abruptly stopping in front of his desk.

Your feet are glued to the floor while Eren is closing the door. Levi stands there, propped up against his desk with his arms crossed. The room was eerily silent, you were becoming slightly intimidated. Do you stand? Talk? Sit?

The silence was unbearable.

"Do you need me-"

"I'm fed up, with your manner, cadet." Levi interrupts.

"If I may- Captain," He nods for you to proceed, "why is Eren here?" Captain was very much capable of taking care of reprimanding you on his own, you were almost irritated that Eren was lingering behind you, feeling his eyes burning voids in the back of your head, disrespectfully.

"Isn't that what you want?" Eyes doubling in size, you swerve your head to attempt and get a view of Eren, but Levi halts you once more, treading closer to you so you can look at him, "you don't need to look at Eren."

"I- I don't quite understand."

No one says anything. The air is now thick, more difficult to swallow for oxygen, you were entirely thrown off track with the way he was speaking to you, the way he was looking at you made you want to make a run for it, "Cat got your tongue? Y/n?" Chills rake up and down your body when you feel Eren's breath on your neck, sending your head flying behind you to see the blue-eyed devil almost pressed against your back, you look back at Levi frantically.

"Sit."

Without pause, your ass is planted into one of his chairs, "why aren't you being stubborn? Where's that attitude that constantly gets you into trouble?" Feeling as if you're shrinking, the two men are overlooking you, "go on."

"I- well,"

"She has nothing to say for herself, Cap." Eren looks at Levi, "told you she was all talk." He jabs, were you dreaming?

Your heart thumped out of your chest, you never dreamed of Levi taking it this far, especially when he was so professional... "y/n," Levi's finger touches underneath your chin, raising your head to look at the two men, "always teasing me when you do the same to Eren, so slutty, don't you think, cadet?"

Your mouth drops open at his use of words, finally- the game caught up to you, and you were facing the repercussions, "don't be all shy now."

"I'm not-"

"Then if you're not shy, get on your knees and show us how much you’ve wanted us.”

You hesitate to move, but eventually find yourself slowly sliding out of the chair and onto your knees, "not in my office, go in my room." Eren grabs your arm, walking towards his adjoining room, Levi opens the door and permits you to be ushered in by both him and Eren; Eren grabs you by the hair and directs you back onto your knees in front of your captain's bed, "she's so compliant now that she knows we aren't joking anymore," Levi scoffs, standing behind you while Eren is unbuttoning his jeans right in front of your eyes, a combination of anxiousness and warmth growing in the pit of your gut, looking up at him through your eyelashes, licking across your bottom lip hungrily.

"Be a good girl and open for Eren," Levi bunches up your hair from behind, removing it from around your face.

"Yes sir."

Sticking out your tongue, you try to relax your throat once seeing the size of the man, Levi's grip on your hair prevents you from getting a good look at it before his cock is nudging gently into your mouth, down your tongue, and to the back of your throat, fastening your lips around the base of his cock whilst swirling your tongue when he pulls out of your throat, groaning when your tongue works him with ease.

"So good," He hums, grabbing the sides of your face, Levi drops your hair from his hold so Eren can pick up his pace, using his hands to guide you; gagging and choking while he fucks your throat, saliva dripping down your chin, at the verge of tears, you take his length as far as you can manage. Eren grunting and huffing; only throbbing more when he sees the little tears drip down your cheeks. He heaves out of you, your tongue lolled out while strings of spit follow his cock, the men are astonished at the sight of you gasping for air, but they weren't going to tell you that.

"Are you gonna be good for me and our captain, princess?" Eren crouches down to meet your eyes, clever smile on his face, you nod and he stands you up by your armpit.

You had virtually no control over yourself, they were moving you to where they saw fit; right on your hands and knees into the soft plush sheets, "what do you want, y/n?" you listen from behind you, your head is yanked backward, Levi is there, his free hand wrapped around your jugular loosely, his shirt unbuttoned.

"I want you both to fuck me," you gasp out, they both snicker at you.

"Too easy, way too easy, such a fuckin' whore, imagine wanting both of us," Eren taunts, snatching your shorts down to your knees and lifting your shirt to grab onto the thin waistband of your underwear, "you want Jean to fuck you too? Got any other favorites?" Levi shoves you back onto the mattress, your arms catching you while Levi continues to remove your shorts from your knees, tossing them on the floor, rough hands caressing and pulling apart your ass, both men watch your panties slip in the separated cave of your ass, Eren pulling off your shirt and unclasping your bra.

"N-o, only you guys."

"Who do you want more? Me or your other little fucktoy?" Levi sneers, moving to your front, once again lifting you by your chin, keeping you still while Eren rubs his fingers against the soaked cloth. Pulling upwards against your cunt, the pressure making your clit spasm and scream for the touch of his actual fingers, looking desperate and hungry at your captain.

"I- I can't choose."

Your chest rising and falling, Eren is finally relieving you from your panties, fingers instantly meeting your folds and slipping past your entrance with his two fingers, you whine, eyes rolling to the back of your head, knuckles curving downwards to hook into you and find your sweet spots.

"Well aren't you lucky, you get both of us, even though you don't deserve it," Your captain smirks, getting on his knees, fiddling with the button of his slacks, zipping them down and pushing them past his thighs, "I think she needs to beg for it." He looks at Eren, his erection making itself known from beneath his boxers, fingers quickly scissoring the roots of your hair while he frees himself from his constraints.

"I wanna be your slut- please make me cum." They smile, pleased with your submissiveness.

Cock spilling with precum, he scooches towards your salivating mouth and holds your level to his cock, centimeters away, "so fuckin' wet, can't say I'm surprised you get off to this." Eren's tip rubbing between your folds, collecting the slick that was seeping from your hungry pussy. He pushes into you while Levi is pushing into your mouth, both holes becoming occupied by their pulsating cocks; they longed to fill you up, the torturous teasing you put them through the second you turned eighteen was bound to make them snap- you didn't know what you expected, to be honest, you asked for this.

Eren fucks you slow, savoring the feeling of you clench and suck him in further, pussy stretching from the sheer size of him, veins from the base of his cock hitting and rubbing against the very nerves that were screaming for him to go faster.

Levi fucks deep into your throat, he was about Eren's size, perhaps a little thinner, but he was no match for your throat, choking up the spit from past your throat to lube his cock further. You bring your hand up to assist you, twisting your hand back and forth- up and down while you stimulated his sensitive tip with your tongue, hollowing out your cheeks to suck him back in and repeat.

He was becoming unkempt, his mouth ajar with little moans slipping past his lips, hair dangling in front of the sides of his face while his hips bucked back and forth into the depths of your cave.

"My God, so wet."

You moaned against Levi's cock, Eren speeding up and reaching your cervix, your juices slushing and pussy squeaking while he stretches you out. When his hips connected to your backside, you only want to shrivel up more from the pace he was hitting the hole of your tight cervix. Initially, it hurt, but almost instantly it began to feel pleasurable for both you and Eren, he was reaching great lengths inside of you. He's always wanted to fuck you; almost disappointed in himself that he didn't do this before.

"Taking me so well, I can barely fit," he grunts, "you like my cock y/n? Isn't this what you wanted with your bullshit teasing?" he smacks your ass, crying out, his hips jutting back and forth against you mercilessly, sending jolts into every bone of your body.

He slaps you again, your right ass cheeks burning and tingling from the strength of his slap, "fuckin' slut, better be quiet."

Levi pulls out of your throat, finally able to audible out the loud weeps and cries, he throws his hand over your mouth, "shut up before you get us caught."

"Fuck, Eren!" you wail, ignoring Levis commands, gasps and moans fly around the room, his cock filling you perfectly to the point where you felt like you were made to shape him.

"Open." his hand is forcing your jaw open, sticking your panties into your mouth to silence you. You cry into the fabric, the coil twirling up in your stomach, clenching your walls while he drills into you, his cock rubbing against your g-spot, sending you into a frenzy.

Levi fists his cock for the time being while Eren is chasing his orgasm, knocking into you- inching you towards your orgasm. The back of your head tingling, your pussy twitching, and your stomach tightening, the room spiraling around you while you drop your head into the mattress, eyes screwed shut; Eren tearing an earth-shattering orgasm out of your body.

You see stars and a bright white consumes you, hands reaching to grasp anything, finding Levi's bicep and digging your nails into his skin for support while Eren's cock bathes in your cum, his hands pressing into the small of your back, "'boutta cum, right in this pretty little pussy." He spits, pinning your back to a better arch, you cry into the sheets when Erens thrusts loosen a little, sporadic and stabbing thrusts until he's panting and dumping a large load of his seed into your cunt, letting out moans and swears of approval. Your body convulsing, wanting to collapse.

Erin's lightheaded, dizzy and sweating, little bangs and baby hairs sticking to his soaked face, watching your cum drip down your thighs, the wetness from your pussy which had soaked his stomach, it was a fucking mess.

Everywhere.

He pulls out of you, your cream coating his cock; snatching a shirt and wiping himself clean, hiking up his boxers, "you're not done. On your back, now."

Without warning nor regard, you're pushed forward into Levi's hands by Eren to get you moving quicker; you slide onto your back, Levi takes charge and steps off the bed, hauling you by the thighs until you're at the edge of the bed, Levi pressing his hands under your thighs, holding them up and letting his cock slap against your cum-filled cunt, biting onto his bottom lip, teasing his cock into you.

He leans down, taking out the pair of underwear from your mouth, "keep quiet, understood?"

Quickly nodding and bracing yourself, happy to feel warm again.

"Did Eren fill you good?" he asks calmly, you nod.

"Yes- Levi."

Levi halts mid-thrust, peeved look on his face, "yes what, y/n?" you swallow hard, throat dry from the cloth.

"Y-yes Captain, he did." You mewl, he nods once before finishing his thrust.

"This pussy is so tight, even after he stretched you out like this?" he huffs, head dipped down- eyes filed to your pussy sucking in his cock so well; hair flopping back and forth, "I told you I was gonna do something about that mouth of yours, didn't I?"

"Y-you did, sir." You wail.

Levi didn't hold back, each of his sharp thrusts made you more tender inside, little cries fall from your swollen lips while Eren sits beside your head, big arm reaching over your face and kneading your boob, he watches them bounce slightly as Levi ruts into you. Rolling your hard erected nipple in between his fingers, "look at that face, are you gonna cum again?" you look up at Eren, who wears a smug look on his face, "are you gonna cum on Captain's cock, y/n?" you whine, trying to remain quieter under your Captain's directions.

"Gonna-" Eren's hand moves once more- over towards your clit.

This was the first time tonight you had felt this overstimulation, hissing in air and biting onto the skin of your lip, hand grasping Eren's wrist as he swirls little- yet strong circles into your clit, your mouth slacks open, “please! Feels so-" another burst of spasms erupting, thighs shaking and clenching around Levi's waist, "f-fuck me- Fuck me harder Captain, please!" You cry, walls convulsing, cum seeping out of you, down your ass and the base of his cock while he fucks you silly, Eren bringing you that much closer to a euphoric feeling again as he rubs your spasming clit.

"Yeah? You want me to fuck you like the whore you are, right?" Levi pants, cockhead rubbing against your sensitive and exhausted g-spot.

"Who can fuck you better?" Unable to audible, Eren moves faster around your num.

"Don't disobey our Captain, pretty girl- use your words." Screwing your eyes shut, the two men await your answer.

"I-I don't know- Ah!" Your back arches, core tightening for the second time tonight- body shaking as the following orgasm sends you over the moon, Eren's hand smacked over your mouth, you wail into his hand, Levi pins your legs open, leaning down to fuck into you harder, thrashing into your guts, pussy gushing around him until he is groaning and throwing his head back while he slams into you, his stomach nearly slapping against Eren's fingers, his dick twitching. His cheeks rosy and his muscles flexed.

"Fuck, so good- so tight- keep squeezing-" he breathes.

You're dazed from the rocking of his hips, he slows, catching his breath while he releases, coating your bruised walls with his cum. Your body left empty and quivering as Levi is slipping out of your cunt, Eren handing him the same shirt he used to wipe himself off with; your captain retrieving it and cleaning the amount of cum that was left on his softening dick, moving to you and carefully wiping the inside of your thighs and beaten cunt.

Catching your breath, Levi is picking his boxers up from the floor and pulling them up along with his pants, “don’t stay there forever, my sheets need to be switched.” He states, Eren reaches for your hand and helps you sit up, putting his shirt over your head and you slip through the arms, feet meeting the cold wooden floor, you attempt to stand, your knees buckling, Eren grabs you by the tricep before you land on the floor and sits you back on the bed.

“I think it would look suspicious if I carried you out of here, can you walk?”

You nod, “yeah.”

Standing again, you're able to succeed, reaching for your underwear, Eren already had it swinging around his index finger, “I’ll hold onto these.”

With no willpower to object, you just pull up your shorts and pick up your shoes.

“Walk her back, Jaeger, don't do anything stupid.”

You and Eren both leave your Captain’s office quietly, the hall empty and empty, you and he slowly walk back, you laughed at the thought about how it would be a tough one to explain why Eren was shirtless and you were- quite obviously- wearing his shirt while he holds your stained shirt in his hand.

With great luck, you and he make it without running into anyone, reaching your door, you and him enter and you shut the door behind him.

“Here’s your shirt.”

He watches you as you throw off his shirt, tossing it to him and opening a drawer, and grabbing one of your own.

Before you realize it.

“Uhm, Eren, I forgot my bra.” Glancing down at your bare chest, Eren shrugs it off and laughs.

“Captain wanted to keep something too, princess.”

#levi smut #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi and eren #levi x reader #eren jeager smut #eren x reader #eren x reader x levi #eren aot #attack on titan smut #smut #eren jaeger #eren yeager #lemon #attack on titan

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fictionadventurer · 3 years

Text

Father Brown Reread: The Absence of Mr. Glass

The consulting-rooms of Dr Orion Hood, the eminent criminologist and specialist in certain moral disorders, lay along the sea-front at Scarborough, in a series of very large and well-lighted french windows, which showed the North Sea like one endless outer wall of blue-green marble.

I like how the first and second collections both start with a story focusing on a professional detective who’s not Father Brown.

True to form, we’ve got a color word in the first sentence. And not only that--a hypenated color word! You don’t get much more Chesterton than that.

Everything about him and his room indicated something at once rigid and restless, like that great northern sea by which (on pure principles of hygiene) he had built his home. Fate, being in a funny mood, pushed the door open and introduced into those long, strict, sea-flanked apartments one who was perhaps the most startling opposite of them and their master.

Highlighting this because “Fate, being in a funny mood” is a great phrase.

But also because I love when the stories contrast Father Brown’s clumsy, homely shabbiness with characters who look more distinguished and accomplished.

"My name is Brown. Pray excuse me. I've come about that business of the MacNabs. I have heard, you often help people out of such troubles. Pray excuse me if I am wrong."

It’s odd that Father Brown is consulting another detective on this. He doesn’t seem the sort to seek out other help. He usually just winds up on the scene of the crime by accident.

It seems like he should have the confidence to solve the mystery himself.

It seems like the more natural way to bring Hood into the story would be to have the girl approach Dr. Hood and Father Brown just to be at the house for priest reasons before figuring out the mystery.

But maybe Father Brown’s stumped from lack of evidence and doesn’t have the time for an investigation. (Actually paying attention to his priestly duties for once?)

After all, it’s only luck that the crisis that gives them an excuse to investigate the apartment happens two minutes later.

And of course, the whole point of the story is getting this Holmes detective to the same crime scene as Father Brown to contrast their methods, so it doesn’t much matter how he gets there.

And there is a lot of fun in seeing shabby little Father Brown in this professional detective’s immaculate study.

"Oh, this is of the greatest importance," broke in the little man called Brown. "Why, her mother won't let them get engaged." And he leaned back in his chair in radiant rationality.

It’s not a full-fledged Father Brown story unless the mystery is centered on a romance, is it?

A stock Chesterton exchange: foolish-looking character says simple, silly-sounding statement as if it’s the most sensible thing in the world, before being forced to elaborate by a confused listener.

This story gives us Father Brown at his most silly-seeming. Here he’s not just unassuming and sheltered; he seems like one of Chesterton’s holy fools. He hasn’t looked this simple-minded since “The Blue Cross”

"Mr Brown," he said gravely, "it is quite fourteen and a half years since I was personally asked to test a personal problem: then it was the case of an attempt to poison the French President at a Lord Mayor's Banquet. It is now, I understand, a question of whether some friend of yours called Maggie is a suitable fiancee for some friend of hers called Todhunter. Well, Mr Brown, I am a sportsman. I will take it on. I will give the MacNab family my best advice, as good as I gave the French Republic and the King of England--no, better: fourteen years better. I have nothing else to do this afternoon. Tell me your story."

Sure, he’s a condescending ass, but I can’t help liking this guy. He’s got a good heart and a good sense of humor.

I kind of wish he’d have showed up in at least one or two other stories (preferably with a better end than Valentine).

The little clergyman called Brown thanked him with unquestionable warmth, but still with a queer kind of simplicity. It was rather as if he were thanking a stranger in a smoking-room for some trouble in passing the matches, than as if he were (as he was) practically thanking the Curator of Kew Gardens for coming with him into a field to find a four-leaved clover.

I like this metaphor very much.

Brown is still very, very much the simple little curate of “The Blue Cross”. But with the bumpkin traits turned up to eleven.

I’m very curious about Dr. Hood’s past cases, and how he achieved such renown.

"I told you my name was Brown; well, that's the fact, and I'm the priest of the little Catholic Church I dare say you've seen beyond those straggly streets, where the town ends towards the north.

Yet another parish! How many is this? This seems like the most distant, rural parish that Father Brown has yet had.

And Father Brown’s actually doing some work at it!

He seems to have quite a pocketful of money, but nobody knows what his trade is. Mrs MacNab, therefore (being of a pessimistic turn), is quite sure it is something dreadful, and probably connected with dynamite. The dynamite must be of a shy and noiseless sort, for the poor fellow only shuts himself up for several hours of the day and studies something behind a locked door. He declares his privacy is temporary and justified, and promises to explain before the wedding.

Doesn’t the landlady have a key to the door of her own lodger? Can’t she just demand to look?

British people, I tell you.

Unless the daughter is preventing her from looking, out of respect for her beloved.

And, you know, he does promise to explain, so it’d be rude to just barge in.

So why bother consulting the great detective in the first place? If Todhunter’s really on the up-and-up, he’ll explain eventually, they’ll get engaged, and all will be well.

he is tirelessly kind with the younger children, and can keep them amused for a day on end

Given Todhunter’s chosen profession, this makes perfect sense.

You see, therefore, how this sealed door of Todhunter's is treated as the gate of all the fancies and monstrosities of the 'Thousand and One Nights'.

Another Father Brown mystery built upon a fairy tale atmosphere.

To the scientific eye all human history is a series of collective movements, destructions or migrations, like the massacre of flies in winter or the return of birds in spring. Now the root fact in all history is Race. Race produces religion; Race produces legal and ethical wars. There is no stronger case than that of the wild, unworldly and perishing stock which we commonly call the Celts, of whom your friends the MacNabs are specimens. Small, swarthy, and of this dreamy and drifting blood, they accept easily the superstitious explanation of any incidents, just as they still accept (you will excuse me for saying) that superstitious explanation of all incidents which you and your Church represent.

A lot of the most racist characters in Chesterton are the most educated, scientific and progressive.

Granted, Chesterton does a lot of stereotyping along national lines himself. But usually it’s not with the idea that these differences are bad things. And certainly not with the idea that race is the cause of all war.

the door opened on a young girl, decently dressed but disordered and red-hot with haste. She had sea-blown blonde hair,

Is this the first blonde female love interest in these stories?

They were quarrelling—about money, I think—for I heard James say again and again, 'That's right, Mr Glass,' or 'No, Mr Glass,' and then, 'Two or three, Mr Glass.'

Given the eventual explanation of what’s really happening here, wouldn’t she have heard some other noises (possibly crashing noises?) alongside this?

"I do not think this young lady is so Celtic as I had supposed. As I have nothing else to do, I will put on my hat and stroll down town with you."

Wow, you were really just going to disbelieve her because of her nationality, weren’t you?

Playing-cards lay littered across the table or fluttered about the floor as if a game had been interrupted. Two wine glasses stood ready for wine on a side-table, but a third lay smashed in a star of crystal upon the carpet. A few feet from it lay what looked like a long knife or short sword, straight, but with an ornamental and pictured handle, its dull blade just caught a grey glint from the dreary window behind, which showed the black trees against the leaden level of the sea. Towards the opposite corner of the room was rolled a gentleman's silk top hat, as if it had just been knocked off his head; so much so, indeed, that one almost looked to see it still rolling. And in the corner behind it, thrown like a sack of potatoes, but corded like a railway trunk, lay Mr James Todhunter, with a scarf across his mouth, and six or seven ropes knotted round his elbows and ankles. His brown eyes were alive and shifted alertly.

The clues are laid out very nicely here.

This is one of the most Romantic (in the literary sense of the term) crime scenes in all of fiction. Every clue is as picturesque as possible.

"How to explain the absence of Mr Glass and the presence of Mr Glass's hat? For Mr Glass is not a careless man with his clothes. That hat is of a stylish shape and systematically brushed and burnished, though not very new. An old dandy, I should think." "But, good heavens!" called out Miss MacNab, "aren't you going to untie the man first?"

This entire segment is so funny. I laugh every time one of his long-winded deductions is interrupted by the common-sense demand to untie the man.

Now, surely it is obvious that there are the three chief marks of the kind of man who is blackmailed. And surely it is equally obvious that the faded finery, the profligate habits, and the shrill irritation of Mr Glass are the unmistakable marks of the kind of man who blackmails him. We have the two typical figures of a tragedy of hush money:

So much of the Holmesian deduction process relies on stereotypes, doesn’t it? Sure, Holmes doesn’t label people in “types” quite this way, but it relies on using the evidence to reach the most stereotypical conclusion without factoring in the random possibilities of life. (The suspect might have ink on his hands, but it doesn’t mean he’s a clerk). It’s fun that this story calls out that conceit.

"No; I think these ropes will do very well till your friends the police bring the handcuffs."

Okay, so there’s a sensible explanation for why Hood ignores their cries to untie Todhunter. But it doesn’t make the previous exchanges any less funny to read.

"But the ropes?" inquired the priest, whose eyes had remained open with a rather vacant admiration.

It’s interesting that Father Brown’s actually buying into this. My memory had him being more skeptical of the deductions, but he’s admiring the chain of logic being built here.

It’s kind of a nice change from the usual Chesterton tack of the mouthpiece character disdaining every scientific explanation.

It was not the blank curiosity of his first innocence. It was rather that creative curiosity which comes when a man has the beginnings of an idea. "Say it again, please," he said in a simple, bothered manner; "do you mean that Todhunter can tie himself up all alone and untie himself all alone?" "That is what I mean," said the doctor. "Jerusalem!" ejaculated Brown suddenly, "I wonder if it could possibly be that!"

And we’re off! I always love the moment when Father Brown puts everything together, and it’s especially satisfying here, after he’s spent the whole story sitting back and letting another man do all the detective work.

"His eyes do look queer," cried the young woman, strongly moved. "You brutes; I believe it's hurting him!" "Not that, I think," said Dr Hood; "the eyes have certainly a singular expression. But I should interpret those transverse wrinkles as expressing rather such slight psychological abnormality—" "Oh, bosh!" cried Father Brown: "can't you see he's laughing?"

Each sentence gives a vivid picture of the three different personalities here. The tender-hearted young woman. The too-practical man of science. And the brash common sense of Father Brown.

He shuffled about the room, looking at one object after another with what seemed to be a vacant stare, and then invariably bursting into an equally vacant laugh, a highly irritating process for those who had to watch it.

Irritating to watch, I’m sure, but very amusing to imagine.

"But a hatter," protested Hood, "can get money out of his stock of new hats. What could Todhunter get out of this one old hat?" "Rabbits," replied Father Brown promptly.

I love the hat conversation and these lines in particular.

He was also practising the trick of a release from ropes, like the Davenport Brothers

According to Wikipedia, the Davenport Brothers were an American magician act that toured England in the 1860s. They built on the Spiritualism craze and claimed all their tricks were done by spirit power. There isn’t much about what their tricks wer, (besides a couple of escape tricks and spirit cabinet things). Most of the Wikipedia article is about the many times their tricks were debunked. (Naturally, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle refused to believe they were frauds).

But the mere fact of an idler in a top hat having once looked in at his back window, and been driven away by him with great indignation, was enough to set us all on a wrong track of romance, and make us imagine his whole life overshadowed by the silk-hatted spectre of Mr Glass."

This isn’t so much a debunking of the Holmesian deduction methods as a case study proving why logical deductions have to be built upon sound premises. One mistake at the beginning can send you in a completely false direction.

"You are certainly a very ingenious person," he said; "it could not have been done better in a book.

I love when the characters get meta.

This is a very snide remark in context, but of course Father Brown proves himself.

Mr Brown broke into a rather childish giggle. "Well, that," he said, "that's the silliest part of the whole silly story. When our juggling friend here threw up the three glasses in turn, he counted them aloud as he caught them, and also commented aloud when he failed to catch them. What he really said was: 'One, two and three—missed a glass one, two—missed a glass.' And so on."

I can’t explain how deeply I love that the entire mystery is built on a pun. This one section is the reason this is one of my favorite Father Brown stories.

This drives home the idea that mysteries and jokes are the same types of story. They both require laying out information that’s put together into a surprising conclusion.

There was a second of stillness in the room, and then everyone with one accord burst out laughing. As they did so the figure in the corner complacently uncoiled all the ropes and let them fall with a flourish. Then, advancing into the middle of the room with a bow, he produced from his pocket a big bill printed in blue and red, which announced that ZALADIN, the World's Greatest Conjurer, Contortionist, Ventriloquist and Human Kangaroo would be ready with an entirely new series of Tricks at the Empire Pavilion, Scarborough, on Monday next at eight o'clock precisely.

I grew up on cheesy sitcoms. I’m a sucker for the “everyone laughs” ending.

If Todhunter’s willing to admit the truth here, he could have saved himself a lot of trouble by just admitting the truth right away. (I don’t buy the “he keeps it secret to keep his tricks secret” explanation. You can tell people you’d a magician without giving away everything about your act).

Does Mrs. MacNab let them get married? Now she knows he has a harmless vocation, but it’s not exactly a stable one. Would she let her daughter marry a guy so flighty that he can’t even settle on a coherent focus for his own stage show?

Given that the story ends here, we’re supposed to assume that she does. I guess he must be a successful performer--part of her mistrust came from the fact that he had too much money. So he and Maggie should have a comfortable life together.

I’m glad. He seems like a nice young man.

#lb this is all your fault #father brown reread #father brown #g.k. chesterton #the wisdom of father brown #the absence of mr. glass #i remember why i stopped doing these things #they take forever #'but they wouldn't take forever if you didn't comment on every second sentence'#'be quiet logical brain'#this one feels very subpar but i'm out of practice

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samwrights · 4 years

Text

Saint

Um. I’m sorry 🤷🏻‍♀️ lmao no tf I’m not. Thank you anon for this request! It’s been a really long time since I’ve wrote actual smut so let’s give a whirl, shall we?

Warnings: NSFW. Dirty talk, choking, rough sex (though only a brief mention of actual penetration), degradation, and I think that’s it? NSFW under the cut.

The two of you were such a strange dynamic to begin with. Despite his large, athletic build, Kuroo Tetsurō was a brilliant man that often donned a lab coat; using his brains to support chemical innovation in the world. He was sarcastic and playful, yet dorky and very sincere despite the loving a good battle of wit. Truly, he was the total package.

You, on the other hand, barely reached his chest with your short stature. Loud, bossy, but a visionary with unwavering courage that stood out astronomical miles in your field of being an editor for an alternative magazine. Miranda Priestly has nothing on you in terms of work ethic.

Despite the fact that the two of you have been dating since your first year at university together, it still blew everyone away that the two of you had even lasted, let alone for the last six years.

“There’s no way the sex is that good,” Bokuto had balked. The former Fukurodani ace, along with his former setter and now partner, and Kuroo himself got together one Saturday a month for a boy’s night. Some days, Tsukishima Kei would join in, along with Hinata. Today, it was just the old Tokyo trio. “Dude, she’s crazy!”

“I’m not saying anything,” says Kuroo, holding up his hands in nonchalance before knocking back the rest of the beer in his bottle. “But yes, it is that good.” It wasn’t Kuroo’s only reason for being with you, no. You were a hard worker that always gave more than one-hundred percent at everything you did, including your guys’ relationship. In that was your unmatchable ability to resolve any conflict. It seemed like such a stupid reason to stay with someone, Bokuto and Akaashi had even told him so at one point, but he knew that the Fukurodani couple had never felt the strength, growth, and peace that it did for your relationship.

Imagine being with somebody who listened to you and actively sought to work through problems together rather than starting a fight because you forgot it was your turn to do the dishes. Kuroo had never been in such a fulfilling relationship and, to be honest, he didn’t want to attempt to find another one—he was in it for the long haul and he wouldn’t stop until you told him it was over.

“She’s a top.” Akaashi blanches, noticing the way Kuroo’s eyes almost distance as he silently reflects on his relationship. “He’s got the same look in his eye when I wonder why I’m dating you,” the former setter deadpans, staring at his silver haired partner.

“You are so mean, Akaashi!”

“Are you implying Bokuto’s—you know what, never mind,” Kuroo stops in his tracks, reaching for another bottle from the bucket. “I don’t even wanna know.”

“Babe, I’m home!” Kuroo calls out the minute he steps through the threshold of your guys’ shared apartment. He can hear the stovetop kettle whistling as you make yourself your usual evening tea to unwind after an impromptu day at the office. “Hey,” he greets again as he steps into the kitchen. You’re only wearing a mid-length fluffy robe, from what he can tell.

“Hey, baby. How was boy’s night?”

“The usual,” Kuroo sidles closer, wrapping one arm around your waist before pressing a kiss into your hair, “still thinking I’m crazy for dealing with you.” A laugh escapes you as you pour your tea.

“I mean, you kind of are,” you concede, “you’re an absolute saint for putting up with me.” An unimpressed hum leaves his lips as he adjusts himself so that he has both hands on your waist. His hazel eyes are burning into yours as he glowers—he doesn’t like it you talk about yourself like this; like you were a burden; like you were too much to handle. “Oh, you know it’s true. I’m a lot to deal with.” You roll your eyes before gently pushing him out of your way so that you can curl up in front of your little fireplace.

“[name], you know that it’s not true.”

“What, that you’re a saint—“

“Baby, I am the furthest thing from that.” You’re thankful that Kuroo at least gave you a moment to set the mug down before he’s on top of you in the most feral way. With lips latched onto the base of your neck, Kuroo’s expert hands fiddle with the knot that’s holding your robe together. “Stop saying you’re too much,” the former Nekoma captain murmurs along your collarbone as he ventures down. “If anything, you aren’t enough.”

“Tetsu...” You simper as he nips at the flesh.

“I can never have enough of you.” When did his fingers undo your robe? You had no idea, nor did it matter the moment. Calloused fingers danced along your bare stomach, tracing patterns unknown to you before traveling town the tops of your thighs.

“Tetsu, touch me.” The words leave your lips in a breathless whine. A chuckle rumbles in his chest, his breath fanning over you as he looks up at you, all the while his tongue darts out to tease your bare nipples.

“You know, Akaashi thinks you’re a top,” he muses as he travels from one breast to another, as if he were talking about the weather rather than your sexual preferences. “Should I tell them next time you love being fucked like a whore?” The word leaves Kuroo’s lips as he jams two fingers inside of you. It should be unpleasant, it would be unpleasant, if just looking at your boyfriend didn’t turn you on instantly. “Aw, cute. You’re already wet.”

“Skip the foreplay, Tetsu—“

“And now you think you’re calling the shots?” Kuroo takes his freehand that’s been essentially absent until now, and presses it into your throat. The heel of his hand is digging into the base of your neck while his fingers give tentative squeezes around the sides of your windpipe. He’s checking to make sure he has your consent to continue. You only moan in response. “Who’s in charge here, princess?” It’s difficult to respond with a hand wrapped around your neck; even more so when your boyfriend has two fingers ramming themselves into you just the way you love it.

“You are, Tetsu.” You manage to rasp out, your hands traveling underneath his shirt. You needed to touch him. Feeling the delicate pads of your manicured fingers even just grazing the muscle under his abdomen earns a groan from the man above you. He pulls his fingers out from you, earning a moan in disappointment from your struggling mouth as you long for the feeling of being filled. Instead, he rolls your sensitive clit between his middle and index fingers, doing anything and everything to rile you up.

“You never answered my question.” Kuroo deadpans, bringing his face dangerously close to yours. You can smell the stale wheat ale on his breath as his nose delicately rests on yours, all the while his hand is still nearly strangling you. At some point, spots in your vision were beginning to cut out from the lack of oxygen—Kuroo could even tell. It was a look he never grew tired of seeing. “Answer the question.” He bites out, slamming his lips on yours. The succession of movements comes rapidly as he finally lets go of your throat, pulling away to allow you to breathe while simultaneously rubbing at your clit vigorously to coax your first orgasm of the night. “Want me to tell the boys you love getting fucked like a whore?” He asks again. For a moment, you teeter back and forth between saying yes and no. If you said no, he was going to keep playing with you in the way you craved after a rough day at work. But if you said yes, he was either going to choke you with his hand or his cock.

Either option is favorable at this point.

Tetsurō’s fingers are moving with a knowledge that only he knew—bringing you closer and closer to orgasm as he inserts them once again, curling them instinctively to push on your sweet spot. “Fuck!” You scream, the word sending shivers up Kuroo’s spine. But for your sake, he’s doing his best to ignore how much he wants to rip his own clothes off and pound into you and break the couch. Again.

“C’mon baby, tell me.” It was meant to come out as a demand, you knew so, but the most Kuroo could muster out right now was broken pleas thanks to his throbbing erection. He needed to be inside you, and he needed it now.

“Go ahead,” you all but cry out and for a moment the man is unsure if you’re giving him permission to fuck you or tell his friends the real dirty details of your sex life. “Tell them the truth, tell them I’m your little slut.” Kuroo lets out a groan before tearing his fingers away from you once again and immediately unbuckling his jeans, revealing his painfully hard cock and filling you without a bout of resistance. Both of you let a breath out, as if neither of you realized you were holding one.

“I love you,” he reminds you, breaking character for just a moment. Or rather, in apology because you know he’s going to break the goddamn couch again. Experimentally, Kuroo cautiously pulls out, his cock bottoming out inside of you as he does so, before just leaving the tip inside of you. His hand is dancing along your throat again, as the two of you hold eye contact. “Still think I’m a saint?”

#samwrights #anon request #haikyuu took over my life #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu requests #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo #tetsurou kuroo x reader #kuroo x reader #hq kuroo #get out your holy water #bokuto koutarou #akaashi keiji

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tanoraqui · 4 years

Text

[now all on AO3!]

it starts, like all great slightly cracky fix-it AUs, with Nie Huaisang impetuously deciding to do something slightly good and slightly selfish

basically, at Phoenix Mountain, while everybody else is busy having romantic drama and/or exchanging lukewarm shots in the building cold war over the Stygian Tiger Seal, NHS is busy getting reamed out by his brother again for not being remotely good at, uh…anything. Archery, ghost-hunting, monster-hunting…etc.

then he happens to look over at Jiang Yanli, the daughter of the goddamn Violet Spider yet who isn’t expected to do anything but be pretty and deal with romantic drama, and thinks, hmm.

Clearly the solution is to Acquire or Fake a Serious Medial Condition

Fake better than Acquire. NHS enjoys being a little dramatically frail, but he’d rather not actually have to deal with it. But in order to fake something well enough to fool his brother, as an ongoing thing, he needs

a competent medical professional

who would be reliably loyal to him (begging, bribery, and blackmail all valid options to ensure this if required)

and won’t be too intimidated to lie to Chifeng-zun himself

it is important at this juncture to remember 2 things about Nie Huaisang, as of approximately the Phoenix Mountain hunt:

he is the privileged second son of a mighty sect, not coddled but definitely humored quite a lot, and despite having gotten through a short war not long before, he has never personally faced a real consequence in his life. He’s seen some shit happen, to his friends and his family, but he himself has never experienced a real consequence in his life

he is, however, aware at every moment that real consequences exist, even when he’s doing truly outrageous things to deserve them. Unlike certain a demonic cultivator who shall go unnamed. in fact, he puts effort into avoiding them, also unlike a certain demonic cultivator

so Nie Huaisang asks around a bit, indirectly and sometimes over drinks, and a week later he’s at one of the small towns in Qishan where the remnants of the Wen sect have been stashed, requisitioning Wen Qing

“...why?” says the Jin disciple in charge of security, who maybe NHS has met at a cultivation conference or hunt before

NHS rolls his eyes and complains from behind his fan, “I don’t know! I think Da-ge just wanted to make me fly here, to build my endurance or something. But she’s on of the greatest healers in the land, isn’t she? Our training yards do produce a lot of wounds.”

The Jin disciple has to admit that all of the above is true and/or plausible. Maybe she makes eye contact with one of the Nie disciples NHS has brought with him as protocol and the dangers of the countryside demand, and he nods slightly. She knew him in the Sunshot Campaign, and trusts his judgement more than that of the flighty heir to Qinghe Nie, so she calls for Wen Qing to be found and brought to the oversight center

(NHS has implied to his retainers/guards that he wants to ask Wen Qing about a personal medical matter that he doesn’t want getting back to his brother, and they accepted it and are prepared to obfuscate that “truth” to an outsider)

(NHS is still new to this; he’s letting his lies get too complex, different for different people and thus harder to keep track of)

Wen Qing is brought, chin still lifted with dignity despite her drab and dirty robes. The Jin scoff; NHS greets her as effusively and not-quite-politely as though they were still students at Cloud Recesses together, and begs a private audience that she can’t deny. The Jin captain offers her office, and the rest clear out.

“Okay so I need you to help me fake a serious but not too serious medical condition,” says Nie Huaisang, and explains the gist of his plan and desires. “In return, you’ll get out of here - come back to the Unclean Realm and live in, you know, whatever comfort a war-focused sect castle* which my brother won’t let me redecorate can provide.”

*apologies to the setting f fantasy Ancient China, but I cannot imagine the Nie sect inhabiting anything but, like, this

“What,” demands Wen Qing, because she isn’t given to absolutely ridiculous ideas, and moreover, she’s a responsible physician and this is so sketch

...but

she’s also a Wen, a curse which thus far has outweighed her gifts as a physician in the eyes of the world, and hand in hand with being a Wen and long before her hand first touched a needle, she is a sister

so she crosses her arms - no. She ducks her head deferentially and says, “I’ll need my assistant to help. My brother.” And she looks up with iron in her eyes, and they both know that this is the final price

NHS offers his hand to shake. “Done.”

here’s the thing though: Wen Qing does have those medical ethics though they don’t always extend to requiring consent for major surgery, and moreover she has a lot of practice surviving, and keeping her brother safe, in a court where they aren’t much wanted. And she’s honest by nature, which mostly means that when she tells lies, they’re carefully chosen

so a few days later, she stands bowing before Nie Mingjue in the grand front hall of Qinghe’s stony fortress, where the last time Wens were there, their blood spilled across the floor. Wen Ning bows from half a step behind her, where he always does; Nie Huaisang stands half a step in front of her, artfully stuttering in the face of his brother’s bellowing. He hasn’t even gotten to his false story yet

(Wen Qing knows real fear when she sees it, she’s both seen it and felt it enough in Wen Ruohan’s court and since, and the second son of Nie has clear never felt it in his life. Not, at least, because of his elder brother.)

“Sect Leader Nie,” she says, stepping past her would-be-cunning, would-be-savior. She bows even more deeply as Chifeng-zun’s attention shifts to her, but still speaks clearly. “Please forgive your brother his trespass, in bringing this one and this one’s assistant to your hall. His concern is only for you, and your health. I am Wen Qing, of the Dafan Wen, who have studied medicine for generations upon generations. I myself, and my brother to assist me, have particular experience managing spiritual power and preventing qi deviations.” It’s mostly truth. “We have been brought only to serve you.”

NHS: [*shocked pikachu face*; the words TOP TEN ANIME BETRAYALS! flash across the screen]

he recovers quickly, though. He’s good at that

“Yes - ” His fan flutters anxiously and tears well in the corners of his eyes. “Ever since the Sunshot campaign ended, da-ge, you’ve been even angrier...”

It takes a while. It’s very loud, and entirely in public. But this is Qinghe, where anything worth doing is worth doing aggressively and in-your face.

Eventually Nie Mingjue turns back to Wen Qing and growls, “Even if they have some medical knowledge, why should we trust Wen-dogs?”

(Wen Qing hates this. She is Wen and she hates this; she is Wen Qing, reknowned physician, and she hates this. She hates the indignity, the disrespect, and that she’s about to call on a debt she promised herself that she wouldn’t because it shouldn’t have been a debt in the first place, it should have just been treating the patient in front of her)

“Wei Wuxian of YunmengJiang will vouch for us, Nie-zhongzhi,” she says, bowing deeply again.

NMJ’s lip curls, and he says flatly, “The demonic cultivator.”

(Mistake. She gambles harder.) “Jiang Ch- Sect Leader Jiang will also vouch for us. We sheltered him and his brother when Wen Chao hunted them, after the destruction of Lotus Pier.” She lifts her head then, to meet his eyes. “We are physicians first, and will treat the patient in front of us. And you, Sect Leader, need treatment.”

It’s become clear over the course of this confrontation - his eyes are bloodshot, his hand has the faintest tremor every time it’s not clenching his saber hilt so tightly that the palm must be bruised. If she could touch him and explore the state of his meridians, she’s sure they’d be as settled as a flock of crows awaiting the end of a battle

She knew it before, though, or she wouldn’t have started this gambit in the first place. The Nie saber method’s dangers of qi cultivation are well-known among physicians, albeit not understood outside of the Unclean Realm. More importantly, the fear of it was between the lines of every one of Nie Huaisang’s complaints about his brother’s overbearence and the horrors of saber practice, which she’s been listening to for the past day and a half. And Nie Huaisang is known for being a coward, but not on behalf of his brother.

Nie Mingjue raises eyebrows at her, but he gives a short nod. (She should’ve known, she thinks, that Chifeng-zun would respond better to fierceness than to obsequiousness. She’s still to used to Qishan, and recently to the attitude of Langling.) “You may join our physicians - once I receives word from Yunmeng.”

Wei Wuxian brings the affirmation himself, in the form of a letter from Jiang Cheng. Wen Qing doesn’t get to see it, but WWX assures her that it was very polite and approbational. She thanks him once and not effusively, and they both nod and know that their debt is settled - probably a brother’s life for probably a brother’s life

(she can keep Wen Ning safe in this place, she’s already sure of it. It is Wen Ruohan and Qishan all over again, but far better - in Qishan what mattered was power, and she scraped and bowed for just enough to get by. What matters in Qinghe is strength, for which Wen Qing has never lacked a day in her life)

(What mattered in the few miles of land the had Jin hemmed them into was subordination and indignity, neither of which she has ever mastered)

{there’s another letter to Nie Mingjue that Wen Qing never knows about, from Jin Guangyao on behalf of his father in Lanlang, politely asking what the absolute hell Nie Sect is doing with the two highest-ranking remaining Wen cultivators. After being reassured that these Wen-dogs are tamed ones, Nie Mingjue writes back...well, pretty much that, with kind of a “fuck you and the sword you rode in on” flavor}

{Jin Guangshan swears, complains, and scoffs a great deal when he receives it, and eventually settles down with a grumbled, “Well, maybe the Wen bitch will simply poison him, or he’ll find a reason to execute her, or both. Then I’ll be rid of them both.” Jin Guangyao murmurs an agreement that’s almost entirely genuine, because he hasn’t forgiven Nie Mingjue for that comment about his mother)

Wei Wuxian stays a week, messing around with Nie Huaisang like they’re still children at Cloud Recesses (they were all children, then) or infuriating Nie Mingjue apparently for fun, or most often both at once. At least it makes NMJ’s temper suitably riled for Wen Qing to get in a good first examination. To the surprise of no one, he’s in bad shape.

The author would put in fun fantasy medical language here, but this book explains jackshit about its magic system, but let’s say it’s like...when there’s been a fast, hard rain and the hillside has turned to mud and it’s not collapsing yet, no, there wasn’t quite enough rain for that - but one more strong shower could do it, bring the whole hillside down on the busy road below, and if one person goes wandering and steps in the wrong place, they might slip into a sinkhole and never come out again? Nie Mingjue’s spiritual energy is like that.

so Wen Qing bullies him into cutting back on saber use by an hour a day - bullying is her natural bedside manner, and she’s backed by several true Nie physicians, genuinely in agreement but grateful to have someone else take the brunt of their Sect Leader’s angry resistance. Nie Huaisang also helps, with an abundance of pleading and near-tears

he also has to accept the bargain of practicing with his own saber for an extra half hour every day that Nie Mingjue appropriately refrains, which is frankly hilarious

after a few more days of peace, she lets Wen Ning out of her sight, pairs him up with a junior Nie physician who knows the area well and sends them to find the herbs she needs. Nie Mingjue does not, at least, protest the sourness of the medicine she brews

and she recommends Lan calming music, because, honestly, why the hell wasn’t he being treated with that already. His sworn brother is Zewu-jun; why are men in power always so stubborn -

well, of course she knows the answer, it’s “men” and “power.” And maybe she should be a little more deferential - but as discussed, that’s never been in her nature nor her bedside manner, and Sect Leader Nie seems to respond well to, if not simply being bullied, than at least the snappish [fantasy Ancient China equivalent of cop]/puppy eyes [ditto] routine she and Nie Huaisang fall into naturally

and...he starts to get better. It’s just a start, but the hillside starts to settle back into place.

it’s peaceful enough, it seems a steady and safe enough place, that 2 weeks after Wei Wuxian’s gone, she makes another gamble. Not with Nie Mingjue, though - she finds Nie Huaisang in one of his favorite painting spots, stands between him and the lovely mountain view, and demands a favor

To be continued... (this is 1 of 3 probably?)

#mdzs #the untamed #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #wen qing #i was kinda planning to write it all at once but then i hit 3k and i'm like half done at best and i was like 'nah'#'i'll just accept my fate and cut out the last like third of what i have and post the first chunk now #at 4am as is the tradition of my people'#my fic #ficlet #er #fanfiction

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tripstaysnoided · 4 years

Text

Flow Just Like Water

youtube

Story and writing-related transparency update and my many shames...

The Question on Everyone’s Mind

“Hey you haven’t updated No Stars over Uptown in almost a year...”

Hmm, I hate it when you’re right. (This section has been rewritten ad-nauseam to curb back the bitchiness by the way)

So back in early/mid 2018, the idea was to divorce Uptown from a person who influenced it (and myself) heavily. She was my most important audience member, the closest friend I ever had, and unfortunately someone who used her power to bully, ostracize, and hurt others with my help. I cut contact when the hurt + some self-awareness finally reached me. Apologies were made and I feel like my work will never be done with it, but there was still Uptown.

Between censored comments, entirely recasting Axel’s save, different plot threads, and a load of disclaimers, there was nothing that would scrub her influence from the story. There was no way to cleanly drop everything because of how deep her influence went. It disgusted me to look back at it, and I had to private the blog because I feared what it endorsed, even if just in the past.

I pulled back from that sims writing community. I had its main thread on the Official Forums removed too (I guess if that was a mystery to anyone). It was a surrender that I never wanted to do, but I had it in my mind that if I was gone, then she wouldn’t be there either. Uptown became this cursed item, and as I quietly retired it, I noticed that she went quieter too. Not gone, but enough to make me sleep easier at night and even occasionally say hello to old friends.

And I hope deep in my heart that no one else is getting hurt in my place, but now this is gonna haunt me all day huh!

The two paths forward...

1) Complete Uptown rewrite that I’ve been threatening everyone with all year. While it won’t ever be clean because I can’t undo time, I do have a sound outline for a story that is much more true to my actual vision and how I’ve evolved, with a few necessary boundaries in place that are going to be there for all stories moving forward: no more casting calls and no more collaborative efforts. I am not going to open myself up to this happening again, even if the people have changed.

2) Same as above, but I continue the original Uptown as a favor to loyal readers alongside the rewrite. I would try to put the effort into it that I initially did, but with no promises on an update schedule and no advertising. I did ask myself “is there Patreon but without pledging money, just the private posts function” but it could operate as part of a private forum, a members-only part of a website, etc.

Also readers of the original would be beholden to a rule of “don’t spoil the rewrite for new readers, c’mon guys”. I mean, not really, but it is a good courtesy to extend to people.

Priority on this isn’t high but you at least will see what is!

I will probably make the blog public again either way due to the many broken links on my Tumblr but we’ll see. There are other things to deal with as I shall list!

Where Life’s Been Regardless

Been spending more time with my grandpa every weekend. Life’s pretty good and he’s warming up to my dogs.

Shiny New Webbed Site

Cucumber Fields Forever is a site I own now. We have a full domain, cucumberfieldsforever.com, a blog with one post, and the framework needed to host stories the way I want to and still through WordPress. The functionality of likes, comments, and following should still be the same but you know...I’ll take feedback too...

The main blog still has an undefined purpose though I do have drafts sitting around about:

The maybe/maybe not hoax band that was on the Metal Archives and the history of Funeral Doom Metal.

The curious case of when Sims 4 babies get their genetics and my only collaboration (read: was talking about it with a friend and might quote her if needed, it’s actually a bit of a doozy)

Amazon.com’s fake dried udon noodles, an actual issue by the way.

Things I’m reading! (This’d be a monthly feature if so)

For the sake of unity, I am thinking of solutions for hosting old and shameful content there including Uptown and for the real fans in my followers feed, Eight Cicadas...a world I totally have plans for too (not really). I don’t want them to be front-and-center, and that’s why I mentioned forums/members-only content. I finally have that power! Maybe.

Ooooh but what are the costs? Not too much to handle, that’s what. 😉 (Like really, I don’t need any hand-wringing about this, I can manage my finances)

Project Queue (In Order of Confirmedness)

Outrun the Scythe: have you seen me post out-of-context Sims 3 pictures? Did you want more? Did you hope it was Linda in Custody? If the answers are yes, yes, and “meh, whatever you want”, then you’re in luck.

Outrun the Scythe is a Sims 3-based tale of a young gay man and his zombie grandma, as they are both offered separate roles of being the undying intermediaries between the world of humans and the influence of a race of space daemons. It’s pretty familiar if you’ve been following me pre-Uptown, taking some cues from stories I’ve kept under lock and key like Eight Cicadas, The Chains of Lyra, and the not-so-locked-up Ironstar Immortals (of which Outrun is just the direct sequel to sans any retconning...ah the smell of early 2013 and performative heterosexuality)

Ah, back to my roots.

It’s a hybrid of gameplay, story, and lore about my little race of daemons with a lot of my own idiosyncrasies that I’m not really ashamed of: basing it off a super-polarizing Sims 3 challenge from a site I moderate, using a lot of EA’s pre-made townies and their genes, lots of unnecessary posemaking, stupid references. It’s a comfort to have in my roster.

While the first few chapters are in the middle of revision, I have around six in the queue and will be making this public when I have ten. I’m guessing December then?

Undocumented Black Widow Challenge: I just did this for fun/forum kudos (yes, in fact I have joined many forums), there was going to be a short story but it was quickly becoming something against my code of ethics. I mean, sims die and all. (read: I had to choose between “heterosexual widow” and “widow with some same-sex marriages that still end in tragedy, reinforcing negative stereotypes to the public for the sake of me not getting bored and detached during gameplay” so there were no good choices. Except for her affair with the mailwoman, 10/10) I hope to finish this before October ends and get my medal on Boolprop, I’m pretty far through it all. I might upload the sims involved anyways. This is for TS4.

I mentioned it because it’s keeping me busy. But not for long!

NaNoWriMo 2020: Dipping my toes into that again! It’s not sims-related, just a tale of lesbians, nosy neighbors, a haunted beach house, and some light murder and kidnapping. And I actually got my brother to scout out locations for me this weekend. If there’s any demand, I can share chapters as the rough drafts are finished, especially for the sake of proofreading.

Not saying I’m publishable, but wouldn’t it be nice? Will keep me occupied for much of November.

Untitled “Dear Diary” Challenge: Tired of feeling left out of the fun on the Boolprop forums, their “Dear Diary” challenge was the one that appealed to me the most on first glance. Why? Probably once I found an idea that let it be set in the early/mid-2000′s to begin with and explore some interesting characters through diary entries (which I have mixed feelings on as a literary device but I think that’s just me saying “well I didn’t like Dracula”, yes you get bonus points for writing it like a diary)

Also writing is the one skill I’m good at across multiple games. Wanna hear me bitch about the cooking skill tree in TS4 or riding in TS3? I’ll spare you.

I guess I could have included “spending time on Boolprop with old and new friends” in where my life has been. It’s a nice lil community if also a place with its own idiosyncrasies as well. So it doesn’t feel like I’m promoting another community if/when I make a thread there for Outrun the Scythe, I want to have a couple chapters of this ready to go by Outrun’s release, though it’s not gonna be the highest priority compared to it nor as long because I think I can blast through the gameplay quickly.

This one will be played in TS4 due to it having the easiest writing skill/I dunno variety is the spice of life. And hopefully another December release.

Defunded or Forgotten?: Oh shit I actually released stuff in 2020 and told no one? I do have a “mortifying ordeal of being known” sinking feeling whenever I get a site hit because it’s not my best work (but good enough) and veered sharply into issues I may be over my head in, though I try to be a good noodle with research and listening. Maybe hiding is bad after all.

Being based off a very flawed and incomplete Sims 3 challenge I found in the annals of the Official Forums, there’s a lot of behind-the-scenes work just making sense of things. And I’m scared of working on reconstructing the house but I haven’t abandoned the project yet. The story has eight chapters so far and is pretty game-based with some additions here and there. Scared of how long it could be though!

Date for this unknown.

Untitled Sunlit Tides Decadynasty: another year-long abandoned TS3 project with a much stupider reason why. Last update was about Hua getting ready for her wedding, and I wanted to do some poses for a bait-and-switch wedding chapter because to put it mildly, her real one was an absolute disaster.

Blender decided to fuck up its interface again, I got discouraged (this probably does account for some of the Uptown delays too), and when I decided to plow forward, it was for other projects instead.

Meanwhile I played all the way to Gen 5′s teenhood and the only thing stopping me is time (it takes almost 30 minutes to load the file right now, though they’ll be looking at moving towns in a couple gens) and maybe fear of the Logic skill.

Date for this also unknown but it’s easy to pump out updates once I’m in the groove for it. My third heir had a difficult life so maybe I’m just trying to bury it.

Also I just noticed the view count there was really good and probably because I linked it here on Tumblr last year. Thank you so much guys. I can’t really fret over views on Carl’s forum these days thanks to the years-long death spiral pretty much every forum anywhere has been riding on. But it’s a nice surprise. And it’s an alright little challenge recap to read during your lunch break or whatever.

The Wawas

I figured I’d end on the real news everyone wants! Both the chihuahuas are a year and a half now and reached their adult size around a year ago. For the most part, they are happy and healthy dogs.

#state of the uwunion #long post

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nonsensicalobsessions · 4 years

Text

Lucky

When Tom stopped to reflect on his life, he was always keenly aware on how very blessed, how very lucky, he really was.

There were all the obvious reasons: Dumb, stupid, genetic chance gave him health, a level of physical attractiveness he did nothing to earn, a brain to give him a jump start for intelligence and an ability to learn. Affluent parents who could and did provide every advantage, such as a beautiful home in a safe neighborhood, as well as the opportunity to attend the most prestigious schools in the area, and then the world. Drawing breath in a place and period of time where clean water, relative peace, plentiful food, and quality medical care were all readily available to him (although those were also due to his parents, he was aware of as well).

But there were other things...meeting the right people, at the right time...the right roles...

Of course, not everything was luck. He didn’t discount his hard work. No one would argue he was one of the hardest working actors in the industry.

The one area where his luck soured was his love life. Friends he had in abundance, but between his intense desire for intimacy, rather than random, casual hookups, and for private, meaningful conversations as opposed to shop gossip and small talk, he found himself without a partner for months, even, God help him, years at a stretch. He was embarrassed to admit how lonely he found himself at times. He longed for what seemed like the most common thing in the world, love with someone who would see him as he was, not as how he was packaged and presented. At times, he wondered if he was simply fated to remain caught in a solitary existence.

And then, just like that, his luck changed, even as it preserved him once again.

Tom was driving home from holiday shopping. Carefully, as was his wont. As usual, it was raining and the traffic was as thick as could be expected for a Saturday leading up to Christmas. He was stopped at a traffic light, the second car in queue. He played with the music on his phone, until he found the song he was looking for, and smiled as he selected it.

https://open.spotify.com/track/2IuUMx3uxxJAHcH41aYtn0?si=j7EFmnjuSUqGpb_6LPIGBg

The light changed. The car in front of him paused for a moment, then proceeded to resume its route, and Tom did the same. He was humming “Winter Wonderland,” tapping lightly on the steering wheel, when something terrifying happened.

There was a loud screeching of tires, horns, the squeal of brakes, and in front of his horrified eyes the car in front of him was plowed into as another vehicle attempted to run the red. The culprit wasn’t even close to clearing the intersection in time.

If Tom had been the first car in the queue, he would have been struck, it was unavoidable.

With the slickness of the roads, there was quickly a massive chain reaction of collisions. It was only by very good fortune Tom escaped unscathed.

As soon as the screeches, the slams, the crunches, and the crashes stopped, Tom left his car and raced for the innocent’s vehicle. He had already dialed 999.

There had only been one person in the car, a female driver, as far as he could tell. All of her air bags had deployed, and she had been struck on the passenger side, which was the only saving grace in the situation. She was crumpled over the steering wheel, pinned between the slowly deflating air bags and what was left of the passenger side of her vehicle. It was quite the grisly scene, with shattered glass all about, horns blaring, and yet she made no sound. Tom frantically pulled the door, already fearing it to be futile as all car doors in his experience locked once the vehicles began moving.

To his utter shock, it opened. The car was an either older model than he anticipated, or else the locks malfunctioned.

He reached for her pulse in her neck and found it quickly enough, even as she was bleeding heavily from under her hair as well as from other cuts and abrasions. Soon she was moaning and beginning to stir.

“Steady,” Tom pleaded. “Don’t move. You’ve been in a crash, and an ambulance is coming. Can you tell me your name?”

“Maddie,” she whispered. “Madeleine Robillard...”

“Maddie, my name is Tom. Whom may I call for you?”

“No one,” she groaned.

Tom blinked, even as he could hear sirens growing louder. No one? That couldn’t be right, certainly there was a family member or a friend to be notified...

“No, there isn’t anyone, just me...” Maddie mumbled, and Tom realized he must have spoken aloud.

Maddie was fighting to keep her eyes open and focused. She looked around Tom’s age, but tiny to his eyes. “Tom...I can’t move, I’m stuck...” He could hear her voice becoming frightened.

“Maddie, don’t even try to move, you’re wedged in with your air bags and your seatbelt has you locked in tight and proper, just as it should. I am going to stay with you while you wait for help to arrive. You’re not alone, understand? I promise you.” He smiled at her, and stroked her cheek.

She blinked as a tear trickled down her cheek, obviously in a great deal of pain and disoriented. “I’m going to be late for work.”

“Maddie, I’m certain your employer will understand.”

“No...already so short staffed...” she was becoming agitated again.

“Hush, darling, hush...where do you work? Tell me, and I’ll ring them for you...”

Within what felt like a blink of an eye, there were ambulances, police cars, and fire trucks pulling in, even helicopters circling overhead looking for places to touch down. Tom could scarcely hear Maddie’s reply as she named a luxury hotel and spa not far from their location.

Tom dialed and asked for Madeleine Robillard’s supervisor, plugging his other ear with one finger as he did so, the ambient volume increasing every moment.

“This is Madame White, with whom am I speaking?” Tom flinched, the voice did not sound friendly, or helpful.

“Madame White, my name is Tom Hiddleston, and I am calling on behalf of Madeleine Robillard. I’m afraid she has been in a terrible car accident, and...”

“Young man, I don’t know what you think you are playing at, but I am far too busy to be playing games. Maddie is due to cross over the threshold of this facility in precisely thirteen minutes. If she does not do so in thirteen minutes and one second, why, she does not need trouble herself to do so in thirteen minutes and two.”

“I beg your pardon.” Tom’s voice was suddenly glacial, proper, and distinctive. “My name is...”

There was a loud sigh. “Spare me the impersonations. Her final check is in the mail.”

A click. A tone. And Tom was left staring at his phone in utter disbelief.

“And Happy Christmas, you utter...”

It was the first time he was told his impersonation of himself wasn’t convincing enough.

“...Mr. Hiddleston?!”

Tom found himself facing a completely shocked set of first responders.

“Hello, yes...this is Madeleine Robillard...”

And so, because of his good luck, Tom was spared a potentially devastating collision, and met Madeleine Robillard in the bargain.

Maddie knew it was pointless to grouse about luck, good, bad, or otherwise.

“It is, what it is,” she would shrug, and try to keep going as best she could.

Born on the wrong side of the blanket. The wrong side of the tracks. The wrong side of town.

She did the best she could, with what she had. Bounced from foster family to foster family, she learned quickly doors didn’t lock or latch even when they looked like they would, so it was best to wedge them tightly closed with blankets or books. If something looked like it was too good to be true, it never was. If someone gave you the creeps, it was for good reason. The best thing you could do was keep your nose clean and powder dry (but never use the stuff for the nose), keep your head down, do your best, and keep out of sight. Getting yourself noticed never ended well. Shoes don’t stretch, men don’t change, and in this life, you’re on your own.

She got through school well enough, then started working. She was a hard worker, and an unobtrusively clever one, because she didn’t want to be seen as clever. Being smart wasn’t something she saw rewarded. It was fine to be smart, and clever, but it was best to keep it to yourself.

She lived small. Saved her pounds. Lived quietly.

Sometimes she looked over the edges of bridges and wondered what kept her from sailing over the sides, what was it was all for, but kept going anyway. Low spirits did not stay with her long because she had curiosity to help keep her going. There was always another book to read, another idea she wanted to chase down in her head.

There were a few times she was loved and left.

She read at the library. She fully recognized novels as fairy tales for adults. She didn’t watch television or go to movies because couldn’t afford them. She stayed healthy enough because of the NHS. She listened to music on the radio. She was computer literate because of schooling and the library. She enjoyed sketching. Sometimes she would go to the library and watch videos on YouTube to improve her way around a pencil. She particularly liked sketching birds. To each their own.

She was kind, because it was how she wanted to be. She treated the people she worked with, worked for, and lived around, the way she wished to be treated, whether she was or not.

She was so proud when was able to buy her used car. Between her savings, her hard work ethic, and innate gentle nature, she was able to build up enough recommendations to get hired on at the spa at the grand new hotel as a receptionist. She was willing to take on as many hours, as many shifts, as possible. Madame White didn’t seem to like her very much, but there was no rule saying she had to. If the woman was spiteful, what of it? She juggled schedules, demanding clients, availability of staff with requested services, made certain all supplies were fully stocked, and more, all while answering the phone and greeting everyone with a smile.

And now, because of an entitled tit of a driver with a problem with the bottle, her car was gone, her job was gone, and soon her savings would be gone. Her health had certainly taken a hit.

But this Tom fellow was very kind, definitely handsome, and apparently a very big deal. For some reason, he was determined to stay with her. He stuck to her like a burr before the ambulance arrived, followed her to the A&E, sat with her throughout all the confusion and fuss there. He found her uncomplaining and patient. She found him gentle, and a surprisingly staunch advocate.

Even after her surgery, he would stop by and visit. He was surprised she had required the procedure, had undergone it without a word to himself or anyone, but then, how would she have contacted him? Why would she? By then even she knew what he was all about, at least in theory, and she was as confused as ever. The staff in the hospital was very quick to educate her about how very lucky she was, and how out of her league he was.

Every day, he came to see her, bringing her some small token, a gift to make her smile. One day it was several pairs of soft, thick socks when he saw she was still wearing the ones she had from the day of the accident, because her feet were cold. They felt like spun sunlight.

Another day, it was a collection of poems, after she had confessed her love of poetry rather than novels when she was tired or stressed, because “a gifted poet can say in just a few stanzas what a gifted novelist needs pages to accomplish...I don’t have the concentration to read pages and pages right now, but those few stanzas...they stay with me for hours.”

He presented the anthology to her only after making her promise she would not stay awake pondering. Maddie was laughing as she did, and Tom neatly plucked the volume from her hands.

“I am altogether serious,” he gravely informed her. “I can tell you are quite tired, and it is a known fact you heal while you sleep. I will not be responsible for impeding your recovery.”

She had to solemnly assure him she would not deliberately remain alert at night, pondering verses when she should be asleep. Looking at her with a serious face, Tom returned the book, and with a sober tone of voice, said, “I’m trusting you, Maddie.”

Maddie would sooner rob a church’s poor box than let Tom down. Not after he looked at her with such an intense expression, and used that tone of voice. She suspected he knew it, too.

But as much as the little presents were amazing, a novelty she couldn’t get over (certainly the first gifts she had received in a very long time), it was Tom’s presence she cherished more than anything he handed her in a gift bag or wrapped (albeit slightly clumsily) in cheerful paper. Although she lacked his level of formal education, and what she had received certainly wasn’t of the same caliber, Maddie was a keen scholar of human nature, as well of the school of hard knocks. She kept that alma mater to herself, but it made her observations on human nature very interesting to Tom, especially when it came paired with her intrinsic kindness and character. They spent hours talking about books they had read, Tom sharing stories about his childhood and amusing anecdotes about his day. Maddie did not have anything similar to reciprocate, so she would deflect and ask him a general question that would not be considered too personal. Listening to Tom share his reflections, being able to explore his thoughts, laughing with his quirky sense of humor...she had never enjoyed anyone’s company so much in her entire life. Just a few hours in the evenings were making such a huge impression on her.

But it couldn’t continue. Maddie lived in the real world, and although she enjoyed his visits immensely, she could also see where she was getting very attached to them, and him. With each successive call, it would be even more of a wrench when they stopped. It would be best to rip off the bandaid, as it were.

By December 23, enough was enough.

She was drifting in and out. Between pain medication and exhaustion from physical therapy, it was easier to sleep sometimes. Better. She didn’t want to think about how she was likely to lose her flat. She was unemployed (although on the dole, likely to receive compensation from the drunken ass responsible for this utter disaster, and possibly for wrongful termination).

“Depression” wasn’t a word in her lexicon. Again, she just took life as it came. If life sucked, well, it just sucked, and what else could you do about it? Right now, there wasn’t a lot she could change. She did as she was told. She ate as best she could, although she couldn’t stomach much. She worked as hard as she could to regain her strength, because it wasn’t as though there was anyone who was going to take care of her. When she was discharged, she would have to make sure she could shift for herself.

Sleep was an escape she had best take advantage of while she had the opportunity.

“Darling? Asleep already, are you so exhausted then? You’re doing too much!”

Ah. Well and good. She needed to take care of this, anyway.

She opened her eyes to see Tom, standing there smiling at her even as his voice sounded concerned. It would be a shame to send such a handsome man on his way, because God knows she’d never meet anyone so finely and perfectly created ever again. He was a walking ray of sunshine. Truly a good man.

She was going to miss him, with all of her heart.

“Tom.” She smiled as best she could, and tried to sit up.

“No, no, enough of that,” he scolded, and showed her the bed remote once more. “Why must you always try to do all the work when all you have to do is press a button?” He helped her raise the bed to ease her into a sitting position. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Are they talking about sending you home soon?”

She dropped her eyes, flushing a bit. “Soon,” she evaded. “It’s lovely of you to come and visit me Tom...soon you won’t have to be fussed with coming all this way...in fact, I am sure you must have so many things you could be doing instead. Loads of parties and get togethers, I keep telling you, please don’t feel obligated to keep coming here day after day.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed. “And I keep telling you I am doing nothing from obligation, and everything from pleasure. Why can’t you understand I wish to spend time with you? Unless...” his face changed expression, “you no longer wish for me to come visit you...?”

Maddie’s face morphed into complete shock.

“Nothing could be farther from the truth. It’s...I didn’t know before, you see. But they’ve told me, I get it now. Come, Tom, I know how the world works. It’s Christmas, on top of everything else. You should be with family, and your friends. You don’t have to...well...” Maddie’s face was a study in discomfort. “I am deeply appreciative. Truly, I don’t want you to think I am ungrateful. It’s because I am so aware of how busy you are and how precious your time is...You’ve been coming here, every single day, and each time, you have a little gift for me. I’ve never been treated such, in all my life. You don’t need to keep doing this. Thank you, Tom, but you can enjoy your holiday now, with a clear conscience. It’s quite all right. You don’t have to do this anymore.”

“Wait...just a moment. Who told you what, exactly? Has someone told you I visit you out of some misguided sense of pity? As a...visiting the sick charitable work? A Christmas giving back?” His face was livid. “Who is telling you these lies? Point me in the right direction...!”

Tom had just started to get a good rant going, but stopped the moment he saw tears shimmering on her lashes. “Oh, no. No, no, no...please, Maddie, don’t cry...it’s not true. I promise you, it’s nothing like that.” He quickly dropped the side rail to gather her carefully into his arms for the first time. Up until now, he had only ever held her hand.

“I didn’t know anything about you the first time I saw you,” Maddie wept. “I don’t go to movies, plays, or watch television. I just read. So everyone so quick to say how lucky I was...and how you were so...so...” Tom could not help but notice how she did not melt into his embrace, but rather had her arms wrapped around herself as best she could, before he even had the chance to try comforting her. He recognized it for what it was: the hallmark of someone who only had their own arms to hold them when things were bad. He softly rubbed her back.

“Maddie, what happened to you that day was the very opposite of luck,” Tom answered grimly. “And anyone who said otherwise is disgusting. I will go so far as to say you are lucky to be alive...lucky you weren’t injured more severely! But beyond that? How could anyone be so crass as to say you were lucky that day just...” he shook his head, appalled.

“If anyone was lucky was day, it was I. I wish I never had to meet you in such a fashion, but in a city of almost nine million people, it was my car you were in front of that day. I was the one that was able to hold your hand. I was the one who could brush the hair out of your eyes and wait with you...and now, I am the one who gets to visit you every day, and who hopes to bring you home before Christmas.”

“Bring me home?”

“Darling, I don’t want to discourage you, but you are going to need a lot of care when you are finally discharged...and well...I...I know this is terribly forward of me, seeing as we’ve only known each other a few weeks...but as you’ve mentioned you’re rather alone in the world, I was hoping you’d consider staying with me for awhile. Just until you’re back on your feet again,” he concluded in a rush.

Maddie looked at him, rather exasperated.

“You see? Tom, you cannot do this! You are...you! I am a barely educated, unemployed receptionist. An orphan. I have nothing. I am no one...Tom...what would your mother say?!”

Tom threw his head back and laughed, delighted as she sputtered with indignation.

“See, this is exactly why I can and will do this. Because you do care about what my mother will say...and Madeleine Robillard, I will have you know you are indeed someone. You are someone who reads poetry and thinks about it all day long, even as she goes though physical therapy to regain her strength after a horrible car accident...someone who can sit and debate with me how social media and texting has impacted people’s ability to actually speak to one another...”

“That was just my personal observation...” Maddie mumbled.

“Yes! You notice things no one else does, sweetheart. You pay attention in a world where everyone else is content to just sit back and wait for information to come to them...you observe. You are honest...when you met me, you had no idea who this lanky goofball was...”

“Not a lanky goofball...a thoughtful, considerate, very handsome man who paid more attention to my well-being than any other man ever has in my life,” Maddie corrected him, picking at one of her many healing abrasions.

Tom stopped her scratching without even looking. “As I said, so many people are just sitting back, passively waiting to be told what is important, what is attractive...and you are flying high and away over them, darling. The men of London must all be blind fools.” Slowly, he picked up her hand, and brought it to his lips. “I love listening to your thoughts. I wish you’d share more of yourself with me.”

“Tom...there’s not much to tell. I don’t have a gilded background, in fact, it’s fairly a grim story. I used to think if I had any luck at all, it was bad luck...but then, on the very worst day of my life...I met you. So, maybe, just maybe, my luck is turning? If you don’t mind coming to see me, or calling me, every now and again? Because I admit...I would miss you, if you were to just...stop.” Maddie looked down in embarrassment.

He guided her chin up so she could see the bright smile beaming from his face. “Madeleine, I think you can safely say both of our luck has turned for the better. I promise you, I have no intention of walking away from anyone that makes me smile the way you do.”

Maddie could not be discharged in time for Christmas. Tom was very disappointed when he learned this later that evening. When Maddie went for her PT on the 24th, he and a few of his friends quickly transformed her room from austere to festive by adding a small pre-lit tree and some decorations, including a stocking and setting up a speaker to play Christmas tunes. When she returned, she found the lights in her room dimmed, a Christmas tree twinkling, Tom dressed in a lovely sweater and sharply pressed pants, smiling at her...she couldn’t help the tears that leapt from her stunned, moved heart.

“Thomas...? You did all this...for me?” She knew the question was foolish, but she was so shocked, she couldn’t help it. Never had she had such an experience before. Never had anyone lifted so much as a finger to show her a perfunctory kindness, so the thought someone had planned, then executed this level of a Christmas surprise gift for her would have brought her to her knees if she wasn’t already in a wheelchair.

The orderly escorting her had already disappeared, undoubtedly to spread the word of the lovely moment that was going on in room 5139 B.

Tom approached her quickly, and crouched down. “Darling, you can get around without the chair, yes?”

“Yes, it’s just after PT my muscles are tired so...”

He simply extended his hand, and she took it, rising slowly, legs shaking like a newborn fawn. Carefully, he led her away from the wheelchair, and wrapped his arms around her. “I’ve been longing to give you a hug since I first saw you. I hope you don’t mind my giving you this one now.”

The way Maddie was resting her head on his chest, he didn’t think she did. Her arms were around his waistline, making it natural for Tom to gently hold her figure to him and rest his cheek lightly on the top of her head. “You are very precious to me, Maddie Robillard. I think you are a breathtaking, remarkable, intuitive, beautiful soul residing in this delightful body that needs to be cherished and allowed to heal. Please let me be a part of that.”

She didn’t answer, just took a deep breath, and remained in his arms.

“That’s not a no...” he teased.

https://open.spotify.com/track/7aEjsTKJKspp01vkeVgeRr?si=r4xZlBPyS7iwgJmiMWZ-ww

Christmas music continued to play in the background. “Christmas Time is Here” from the Charlie Brown television show began to play, and they both began to giggle, which morphed into full blown laughter. Tom guided Maddie into a very careful dance, mindful of her condition.

“‘You know, Santa Claus and ho-ho-ho, and mistletoe and presents to pretty girls...’” Tom mimicked perfectly, waggling his eyebrows. Maddie rolled her eyes indulgently.

“Good grief,” she responded drily, even as her eyes twinkled. She couldn’t help it.

Tom helped Maddie back to her bed as he could tell she was at the end of her physical strength. He then produced his next treat, his computer loaded with every Christmas movie he could think of he thought she might enjoy, beginning with the oldest made for television cartoon specials to recent movie releases. There were bags of microwave popcorn, and hot chocolate. Maddie was reduced to just shaking her head in disbelief.

She was beginning to feel overwhelmed. It was too much, and she didn’t know how to process it all. Not only was this already the best Christmas she already had, but she didn’t even have a gift for the too-good-to-be-true man sitting next to her. In her life, too-good-to-be-true never was, but every one of her hard earned instincts promised he was sincere. Maddie had spent her entire adult life taking things as they came, but Tom was giving her a surfeit of riches. Too much attention. Too much affection. Too much presence...and dear God, her hormones were certainly reaching an all-time high.

He noted how she was not relaxed, nor was she reaching for the popcorn offered. “Maddie? Are you okay? You’re just sitting there...are you hurting, is something wrong, should I get a nurse...” She was taking shallow breaths as she looked at her hands, clenched in fists as her thumbs kept rubbing her index fingers.

“Please...I just need a moment,” she managed.

He was beginning to get worried. “A moment...help me, Madeleine, I don’t know what that means...I’m getting a nurse.”

Before she could object, he was gone.

Maddie’s fortunes were changing for the better, because she was attended by one of the older staff that was neither desirous of Tom’s attentions nor starstruck. “Well, Robillard, what’s going on that’s got that handsome man in a dither...and oh, you’re not looking so well...” Nurse Sarah Howard went to get her equipment, and suggested Tom give them some time alone.

After a exam and a gentle heart-to-heart, the nurse left her charge in search of a few medications, and certain gentleman who needed to be enlightened on a few things.

Sarah found Tom pacing anxiously in a quiet area of the halls. “Tom? May I speak with you for a moment?”

He responded with the speed he was known for, and that was part of the problem she thought wryly. “Is Maddie all right? Did I do something wrong? Is she overtired? I didn’t think I kept her on her feet for too long but in retrospect...”

Sarah sighed and led him into an unoccupied patient room, then pointed to a chair. “Sit.”

He obeyed as quickly as a well trained hunting dog...or then again, a child brought up run by a religious order, as she had been, she though with a inward smile. “Tom, she is going to be just fine, but you need to understand a few things about Madeleine.”

“Yes, of course,” he swiftly agreed.

“That. That right there,” she pointed at him again.

“What?” He looked around him, puzzled.

“You move very quickly. Right now she needs a little more patience. In a lot of things. You are a very intense man, and I have no doubt when she is back to her prime she is going to keep pace with or even outrun you more like. Women often do,” she sniffed. “But she is tired, in pain, and healing. But more important, you are a bit like a tsunami. Madeline has never had anyone like you in her life. She is used to being marginalized. Ignored. Even exploited. You have showered her with more good things in the past two hours than she has experienced in the last two years...longer. When she add up her physical exhaustion with all that...she is overloaded.”

He bristled at her faintly reproving tone. “All the more reason she deserves to be surrounded by everything she has missed in her life. It’s Christmas Eve. She’s in hospital. I want to give her some Christmas magic...”

“Yes. You want to give her these things. How about you stop for a moment and think about what she would like to receive?” Sarah’s face was undeniably stern.

Tom wilted, his righteous indignation fading. “Should I just go home then? Does she need some space?”

Sarah took a breath, God grant me patience. “Tom, if you left now I think it would break her heart in a way she might never recover...I am just suggesting you stop plying her with everything at once. i know it is Christmas Eve and you want to play Father Christmas...” she trailed off as Tom visibly flinched and he surreptitiously glanced at the clock on the wall. “What. What is...oh, no. No. Tom, you didn’t...He’s not...”

“Well, not now,” he petulantly answered. “It’s nowhere near midnight yet.”

“Thomas Hiddleston, do you mean to tell me that you have arranged for Father Christmas to come to my ward tonight?”

He squirmed. “I...I know people, all right?! And she told me a few days ago Santa Claus never came for her before...”

“And did you ever once think of what kind of commotion and disruption such a visit might cause?”

Tom made a dismissive motion with his hand and head. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that...it’s covered. No one will be the wiser.”

Sarah put her hand on her stomach. “You are not helping your case.”

Completely unrepentant, Tom asked if Maddie was feeing better. Sarah sighed. “Yes. I gave her something for pain, because she worked very hard at her PT today, she is pushing herself...and then she was overwhelmed, as I said. Go easy on the girl, Hiddleston. And by the way, you are way too tall to be an elf!”

Tom replied with a wide grin. “Does somebody need a hug?”

Maddie was resting on her side, facing the door. She was feeling a little floaty in the head, because of the shot Sarah had just dumped in her hip, but also because of what Sarah had just given her to think about—that Tom liked her, and was, in many ways, just an enthusiastic spirit who wanted to deluge her with everything all at once, simply because he could. If she felt it was too much, she needed to grab her big girl panties and say so. Otherwise, he would never know and continue to shower her with everything as he wished until she was either drowning or waterlogged.

And if she didn’t know how to swim...he needed to know this too. Immediately. Or else he might think she didn’t want to swim, not that she didn’t know how.

Tom poked his head in to find her eyes searching for his.

“No, Maddie, don’t get up.” He reached her side in three quick strides. “I am sorry. I forget how sometimes I am...well...a bit of a whirlwind. In fact, it’s gotten me in trouble in relationships before. You’d think I’d learn, but...” He looked away, unwilling to meet her face, as he reflected on past affairs of the heart that turned into wounds. He so desperately wanted to build a solid foundation in the short periods of time he had available that he threw himself into it with all the fire and energy he did his roles...and yet, that never worked. Too much. Too fast. And then he disappeared, as he must, leaving his other half gasping, then resentful.

She reached out for him. “Tom, I’d like to see you more as a cloud bringing rain to a desert...I would so love to be able to grow some flowers...but too much rain at once is just going to cause a bit of a mess, yeah?” Her voice was sleepy, but affectionate. “What time is it? It must be getting late. You need to be in bed or else Santa won’t come...”

“Ah, but it’s never specified whose bed I have to be in...” Again, he waggled his eyebrows roguishly.

“You’re so silly. Aren’t you going to spend Christmas with your family? Seriously, Tom, I don’t wish to get in the way of that.” But as she spoke, Tom noticed she was holding his hand just as securely as ever.

“I told my family I was spending Christmas with you. I told them that awhile ago,” he confessed without shame. “It’s not as late as you think. Would you like to see a movie? Or are you tired, and wish to give it up and call it a night?”

He knew he wasn’t playing fair when he worded it thus. Maddie blinked her eyes deliberately, and he could just see her shaking off mental cobwebs.

“Tom, I would love to watch a movie with you...would you pick your favorite?”

He all but bounced and vibrated as he queued up Elf.

As the end credits rolled, Tom cast a surreptitious look at Maddie. She had been laughing delightedly at the comedy, but he could see that she was disturbed by the aspect of Buddy being the misplaced orphan, and he was kicking himself about it. How stupid and short sighted he had been...Halfway through, Sarah had come in, given Maddie her nightly medications, and sighed that they were going to make her droopy, but it couldn’t be helped, as she looked at Tom significantly.

Now, Tom was sitting next to Maddie on her narrow bed, and she was curled up next him, her head pillowed on his propped up shoulder. When Sarah had spied this, she had rolled her expressive brown eyes again, and brought a cushion for her head. “Bag of bones that man is,” she muttered. Can’t see where you’ll be comfortable otherwise. You’re welcome.”

Mmm, wouldn’t hurt to close my eyes for just a little moment...

https://open.spotify.com/track/7y2CBABAGfYVvCOvZDc01H?si=MCb3zvZfSz-82YyXq_Z9Qw

Bells.

Why on earth was she hearing...bells?

Maddie could feel that she was sleeping in a very, very unusual position.

For one thing...she was in a man’s arms.

As she began to pull her fragmented wits together, she realized she and Tom must have fallen asleep watching another movie, because her head was still on his shoulder, and his arms were still very much around her, keeping her pressed up against him as he slept, taking in slow, even breaths.

Oh, the dear, ridiculous, foolish man...on Christmas Eve, no less...now to wake him and send him home in the middle of the night? How to do this...and why are there such loud bells in the movie...?

She opened her eyes and tried to move slowly, not to startle Tom. No one liked to be suddenly awakened when in a strange place...

And what to her wondering eyes should appear...

There was...a strange man in her room...fiddling with the stocking...dressed in a...red suit...

“Excuse me,” Maddie called out quietly, “But, um...may I help you?”

“Ho, ho, ho...Maddie, girl. You should still be asleep.”

The figure turned around, revealing the face of a veritable Santa Claus.

“Oh, come on,” Maddie coughed. “I didn’t get those kind of drugs. I know I didn’t.”

“Ah, Madeleine Robillard. I have been looking for you a very, very long time. I don’t know why it was so hard to find you, but...” Santa spread his hands wide in a display of helplessness. “Sometimes, things don’t go as they should.”

“Ah...yeahhhh...Listen, uh...I appreciate this, ‘Santa,’ but whatever you are up to, whoever you are, there are tons more people more deserving of whatever you are putting in my stocking than I am, on this very floor, I am willing to bet...so if you would be so kind, would you give them my share? I would consider it my Christmas gift. Truly, I would.”

“Maddie. You’ve been a very, very good girl. All year. In fact, all your life...for all that you are looking at me like I am some fellow off the street corner in a suit rented by the hour. But I understand, of course you don’t believe in me. How could you? I’ve done nothing but let you down. But that stops now.”

Santa’s voice was rich, like Tom’s...like melted chocolate, but firm. Like a real father’s might be, she thought wistfully. If any of this was real. Which it most decidedly was not.

Tom stirred. “Maddie.” His voice was thick with sleep, but content, and his embrace tightened as she wriggled away from him.

“Tom, you should wake. For one, you cannot be comfortable. You should be home. For another, we have a visitor, and I have no doubt it is no surprise.”

Tom’s eyes flew open. “Maddie, what...?”

“Happy Christmas, Thomas.”

Father Christmas, or Santa, was rather wry as he addressed the lanky man as he struggled to sit up without jostling Madeleine.

“Uhm...Happy Christmas, sir.” Tom looked at the clock on the wall. “You’re...early?”

“You dare put me on a time schedule, Thomas?”

“No sir, I, um...”

“Tom, honestly. As if you haven’t orchestrated this entire encounter...”

“Maddie...”

“Oh, Madeleine. The term is ‘Doubting Thomas,’ not ‘Doubting Madeleine,’ but once again, I understand.” Santa approached. “Give my beard a good tug. Go on. Or better yet...” With a small wince, he plucked a hair from his flowing white beard, then his head. “Real hair. Not nylon.” He then patted his hand firmly on his rounded abdomen. “That’s all Mrs. Claus’ most excellent cooking, dear one. No stuffing here, unless it has cranberry and walnuts in it, ho ho ho...”

Almost instinctively, Maddie’s forehead wrinkled. “But that’s not healthy. Your joints won’t thank you for it, you know.” She stopped, horrified when she realized she had spoken aloud. “Oh, God...I’m...so sorry, that was so rude, please forgive me, I meant no offense, truly I didn’t—“

Her stammering apology was drowned out by the man’s loud, ringing laughter. “Oh ho, ho, Maddie-girl. Think nothing of it. I know it came from a place of care and love.”

Meanwhile, Tom’s mouth was hanging somewhat open, as he was looking blankly at the clock. And shaking his head, all but counting on his fingers.

“Trouble, Thomas?”

“No, sir.”

“Would you say you have been a good man this year?”

Tom found himself pinned by a pair of bright blue eyes that outstared his own.

“Well, I...”

“Yes, he has.”

Maddie’s voice was resolute.

Both turned to look at her, surprised.

“Maddie, you’ve only known him for a few days of the 365. Perhaps there have been times he was impatient. Arrogant. Perhaps there were opportunities that he let his pride or selfishness get in the way where kindness would have better served the situation, or those around him.”

“Perhaps he is only human. Perhaps I have done the same.”

“Perhaps he has had many more opportunities to do good than you have, and let them slip through his fingers. Perhaps you have done so much more with what you have,” Santa volleyed back sternly, looking back at Tom.

“Perhaps he is right here,” Tom grumbled.

“I cannot argue with you, I am sure,” Maddie deferred to the older gentleman, falling back on her time-old defense of hiding in plain sight rather than begin a quarrel that she was sure not to win in the long run, even if she did in the here and now. “However, in all good conscience if Tom is found to be lacking in character and integrity in your eyes, I do not wish to receive anything you would give me. I cannot speak plainer. I have never given so much to a perfect stranger like he has. I do not speak of gifts. I speak of self. I’ve...” her voice became strained, and Tom promptly reached for her hand, “I can’t remember anyone ever being so kind, being such a friend...and when I needed one the most. Was it luck? fate? that he was behind me? I don’t know, but I’m grateful for it, because nothing so good has ever happened to me before, for all that I’m so banged up, and I don’t have a job, and my car is totaled, and oh my God, I’m going to lose my flat...” Maddie’s voice broke.

Tom now had his arms wrapped around her. “I promise to take care you, Madeleine,” he vowed fiercely. “I know you won’t let me carry you, your pride would beat me like a club...but I won’t let you go under. I’ll help you find a job on your own merits. And I will make sure you heal like you need to...and by God you’ll get compensation for what the drunken sot did to you. I swear it.”

Now it was Maddie’s eyes that were pinning him. “Truly, Tom? You won’t treat me as a charity case and keep giving me things? It’s not that I don’t appreciate everything, I do, but I have to do things on my own. I can’t face myself otherwise.”

Santa nodded approvingly.

“Good man, Tom. Good man.” Then he looked at the clock. “Goodness. Time does have a way of going on though, doesn’t it? Perhaps the two of you should both be going back to sleep. Maddie. Forgive an old man for losing his way. I hope to have made up for it. Happy Christmas. And Thomas? Keep up the good work...and let bygones be bygones, boy. Let old hurts go. Carrying them around isn’t armor, a shield, or even a wall. It’s just dead weight. Remember that. And sometimes...what looks like the worst luck in your life turns out to be the biggest blessing you can ever imagine.” He nodded almost imperceptibly at Maddie, who was clearly beginning to become limp in his arms as she fought sleep, unsuccessfully. “Rest well, Madeleine Robillard. I will be keeping a special eye on you now that I’ve found you...and catch up on sleep yourself, Thomas Hiddleston. You’re going to have a busy year, methinks.” He gave them both a tender smile, as he could see Tom also struggling against encroaching slumber.

A soft sound of bells lulled them gently into pleasant dreams.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all, a good night.

#tom hiddleston #lucky #tom hiddleston rpf #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston oc #tom hiddleston Christmas #look christine i did a thing #Nonsensical Writes

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simplywlde-blog · 5 years

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leave the night on; Liv ft. Sam

Characters: Olivia Wilde and Sam Hunt ( @samlhunts ) Timeline: Sunday jan 20th, midnight and Monday jan 21st Warnings: mature content Plot: What happens when two complete strangers meet at a bar? Sparks fly as the mystery flares. What was supposed to be a night of harmless drinking and flirting ends up with an actress and a musician hooking up, driven by desire and pure curiosity. None of them knew each other’s names. Until the very next day where they meet again, realizing that they are hosting a charity event together. Life’s a rollercoaster, and you never know where it’ll take you.

Liv: Turquoise green eyes scanned their surroundings. Live music playing on the background, people dancing and swaying to the rhythm. Endless chatter making it almost impossible to concentrate on her task at hand: finding an empty table. Olivia could've gotten to any other bar in the city, probably one that was less packed, and provided more intimacy but there was something about the small place that held more people that she could count. Maybe was the music, maybe it was the good drinks, or the fact that in that place, in that hidden gem she could be herself and somehow feel... normal. So, when she failed miserably at finding an empty spot she almost turned around to face defeat and simply go somewhere else, but that's when her eyes caught a single booth right in front of the bar. Which to be honest, it was exactly what the girl needed. She made her way across the sea of people, keeping her eye on her target. Upon reaching the empty seat, the green-eyed actress took off her chashsmere coat and allowed for a breath to escape from her plump lips. "I hope this seat wasn't taken." She spoke to the person sitting on her right, without really looking at him, instead searching for the bartender's attention.

Sam: Licking his lips, Sam ordered another drink from the bartender. He was on his third scotch and quite frankly, he had no intention on stopping. He just needed some space and time away from the studio. He had been a little frustrated with himself lately, not being able to write any songs because he just didn't have the muse. So instead of locking himself up in the studio for weeks hoping something would happen (which clearly wasn't working) Sam knew he needed to get out and clear his mind. Or well try to. The fact that he was sitting by himself at the bar, breaking his head about new beats was taking his work ethic to a new level, even for him. It wasn't until he heard a voice next to him that he snapped out of his own thoughts. "No, no, by all means go ahead and .." his words trailed off as he saw the brunette. She was strikingly beautiful and she seemed familiar but he couldn't really place it. "What you tryin' to order? I'll see if I can get the bartender's attention" He said, his southern twang thick as ever.

Liv: When people would often say that life had a way of surprising us, she didn't know how true that statement had been until about three weeks ago when she decided to end her relationship, after having one of her many impulses. But this time? She didn't regret it, she knew it was something that needed to be done. For everyone's sake. But still, the actress had been visiting this very same bar every weekend since. Oddly enough, a crowded and loud room being the only place at the moment that she felt she could think... or well, not think. A voice brought her out of her reverie of thought, it had come from the man by her side, to which she couldn't help to turn slightly around in order to face him. A small lopsided smile immediately becoming visible all over Olivia's features, noticing that this person was quite a view. "Bourbon, neat." Olivia responded, "If you can in fact get his attention you'll become my favorite person... for an hour or two at least." The girl stated with a soft chuckle.

Sam: At the mention of bourbon, Sam nodded his head in delight. He was taken back at her drink choice and pleased she wasn't the type to go for those sugary drinks or low calorie vodka and seltzers. He couldn't help but chuckle at her joke as he flagged down the bartender. 'Hey man, can we get the pretty lady a bourbon, please? And make it neat." He said, watching as the man walked away to get the drink order fulfilled. Sam turned his body to better face the brunette female. "So what brings you here? Or are you just having a night to yourself in the worlds loudest bar?" He said with a grin

Liv: Olivia couldn't help the frown that formed in her face the moment the bartender immediately responded to her new friend's order, "How on earth did you do that? That's not fair by the way, where's the equality here?" She was joking, of course and it was evident by the soft laugh that accompanied her comment. His question caused a deep exhale to escape from her plump lips, "The amazing costumer service, of course. Best one in town." Olivia teased with a small smirk. "I'm kidding, in the bar's defense, this place is not usually this crowded, I blame the live band for stealing my hidding spot." She commented, looking over her shoulder, eyes on the stage. "They have great food, decent booze and the people who come here usually tend to stick to themselves, which makes it a good place to forget about the world and just have a drink." Her eyes turned their attention back to him, as she placed an elbow on top of the bar and her chin on the palm of her hand. "What about you? Nice choice by the way." The girl commented, while her eyes shifted to the scotch that was resting in front of him.

Liv: Olivia absentmindedly licked her lips, and in cue she ran her piercing turquoise eyes all over her new friend's muscular frame. Something the New Yorker found really attractive. Her focus broke the moment the bartender approached them, placing a glass in front of her. "I'll drink to that." Olivia said referring to his comment about needing a breather, as she picked up her glass and took a big gulp of the amber liquid. Loving the sensation it left on its way down her throat. A laugh didn't fail to escape from her the moment she felt the word 'boyfriend'. "Not anytime soon." She responded with a little smirk, taking another long sip of her drink. "Been there, done that. Not interested anymore. So, that means that tonight -- you have my undivided attention." Her voice was raspier than before, her bright green eyes looking straight into his. "But the question is, do I have yours?" The girl inquired, raising one of her perfectly done eyebrows.

Sam: The musician watched as the woman took a sip of her drink. There was something about her he couldn't quite place, but the fact that she wasn't making a big deal about who he was intrigued him in the best way possible. "That so? Because I find it hard to believe a pretty woman like you is single right about now" He replied, his thick southern accent lacing through his words. "You've had my attention the moment you sat next to me" He told her, turning his body to fully face her

Liv: His words immediately bringing an amused smile to her features, "A pretty face doesn't guarantee a relationship, for all you know I could be... stubborn.. intense.. demanding.." She leaned closer to the man when she spoke the last word, not breaking eye contact with him in the slightest. "You never know." She continued, finishing the last of her drink before setting her glass down. "You're good with words, aren't you?" Olivia commented with a chuckle. "It makes me wonder of the amount of girls you have at your feet."

Sam: A coy smile spread acrossed Sam's features as he listened to the woman speak. She was confident and it was sexy. "I'm trying to figure out what the downfall is with everything you've listed." He replied back just as confidently. "I've been told I am once or twice. But the same with you, too" Sam finished off his scotch, the feeling of the alcohol beginning to hit his body as the liquid confidence turned out a little more. "Oh, yeah, clearly a ton are at my feet with the mere fact that I came to the bar by myself. But, it's not all bad, because now you're here"

Liv: "A perfect combination of all three, of course." Olivia responded with a chuckle and a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. For some reason she couldn't remove the smile from her face. This man was incredibly easy to talk to, and also easy on the eyes. Deadly combo. "Okay that's bullshit." She laughed and shook her head from side to side. "Let's be real, you came here by yourself because you /wanted/ to. And, didn't you mention that you needed a 'breather'?" She challenged with a raised brow. "And since I'm a decent human being, I can help with that. I'm sure the live music from that not-so-good band and the insane amount of people are not exactly pleasing, and besides I don't feel like waiting a half an hour for my other round." She looked down at her empty glass. "So, my place is about two blocks away from here. I can have my drinks, and you can have your breather. You in?"

Sam: "You say that like it's a bad thing and not a turn on" He replied back, licking his lips and tasting the remaining alcohol that was left behind. He couldn't help but laugh and shake his head at her remark. "I mean, I did want a breather, but I can't say I came here by myself because I wanted to. More like I needed to" He said with a smile and a shrug. He let his hazel eyes catch her emerald ones as he tilted his head and thought about her offer. He didn't know this girl, but she was stunning and he'd be a bit of a fool to pass her up. "I'm in, let's head out" He said with a grin, motioning to the bartender to close out his tab and paid for the drinks before he let Liv lead the way to her place

Liv: "The things that turn you on are... interesting." Olivia commented with a small chuckle as she began to walk with him out of the bar. She normally didn't do this. Casual hook ups? Sure, but usually with people she knew. And with this man? She knew next to nothing about him, not even his name. But it wasn't like she had asked for it. If she could be honest with herself, the mysterious vibe that was happening was something that she found hot. And for some reason, she wanted to keep it that way. "You don't usually go to that bar, do you? Because if you had I know for sure I would've recognize you." She stated, while walking down the street. It was late and not many pedestrians were in sight, her perfect kind of night.

Sam: The musician wasn't gonna lie to himself, this wasn't how he expected his night to go. But who was he to complain when a beautiful woman asked him to her place? He watched as she walked, letting her lead a little mainly because he was enjoying the view from behind. "Nah, I don't go there often. Or anywhere much. My job has me on lockdown until further notice" He said, scanning at the building they stopped at. He was a bit taken back by how nice of a complex she lived at. And to his surprise she lived a few blocks away from him. Who exactly /was/ this girl? He didn't have time to think about all that though. He just wanted to have some fun and not lose the high he was starting to get from the scotch. "Nice place" He said softly as he followed her inside. "I think we need to have a few shots, what do you think?"

Liv: Once they were both inside her penthouse, the actress closed the door behind them and removed her coat. "Thanks -- sorry for the mess though, it's been a hectic week." She said with a slight wrinkling of her nose, an expression that quickly changed into a grin upon hearing her companion's suggestions. "It's like you read my mind." Olivia said, while turning on the fireplace's switch and putting some music on. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll be right back with the shots." She said as she handed him the remote to the sound system before disappearing into the kitchen. It didn't take her long to prepare the essentials, she placed an unopen bottle of tequila, two shot glasses, freshly cut lime, salt and some pretzels in a silver trail. Making her way back to the living room, the actress set the trail down on the table that was right in front of the fireplace, where she knelt next to it. "Ready?" She inquired with a small smirk as she started to pour the liquid in both glasses.

Sam: "Oh, no, don't apologize in the slightest. I hear you on that" He replied as he sat down on the couch. He couldn't help but ponder who he was with right now because her penthouse honestly reminded him a lot of his. So she mustve been someone. But who, it was beyond him right now. The previous drinks at the bar were starting to flow through his system and when the brunette female walked back with the shots, he couldn't help but smile. She was quick to want to take the shot, but Sam shook his head. "No, no. He said, sliding off his white t-shirt. Body shots" He said with a devilish grin spreading across his face.

Liv: "Damn." Olivia couldn't help saying the moment her eyes settled upon his bare chest. He was ridiculously good looking, from the way his shirt hugged his muscles before, it was evident that he had a great physique. But she didn't know how insanely good it was until he took off his shirt. Her eyes had been glued to his chest for a few seconds before a small mischievous smirk took over her features. Without a further word, she decided to go with it and was quick to remove her own shirt. Staying only in her black laced bra, that hugged her breasts beautifully, making them stand out. "Since you're my guest, you should go first.." She invited as she pushed the trail closer to him.

Sam: Sam bit down on his lower lip as he watched her remove her top, her bra hugging her breasts beautifully. "Fucking hell" He said under his breath, already feeling his cock begin to throb at the mere sight of this beauty. A smile pulled from the corner of his lips as she gave him the tray. He stood up to his full height, gently making sure she laid down on the couch before spreading a thin line of salt between her breasts. Sam took a lime wedge and placed it in her mouth before grabbing the tequila bottle. He positioned himself between her legs a smile on his face. "Ready?" He said as he poured the tequila in her belly button. Immediately Same shifted up and licked the salt from between her breasts before drinking the tequila off her toned stomach. He hovered over her lips, taking the lime wedge with his mouth, his own lips gently grazing hers.

Liv: Everything he was doing was making her breathing eneven. The way he was hovering on top of her, the sensation of his tongue trailing up her bare chest, leaving a burning sensation behind, to the way his lips had grazed her own when he had retrieved the lime from them, all of it making her feel pure desire for him. To the point that she could feel her wetness between her legs. "Fuck.." Olivia breathed out, swallowing hard. Eyes looking up at his hazel ones before she skillfully escaped from underneath him, rolling them over on the couch so she could be on top. Straddling him. Before Olivia could get the bottle, she couldn't help the way her fingertips slowly traced down his abdomen, feeling his strong muscles under her pads. Deciding that she didn't need salt, his body being the only thing she needed with the booze, she poured the strong liquid on his lower stomach, a little more than the normal amount. She leaned down and slowly started licking off the liquid from his naked chest, taking her time. Until she reached his neck, where she began to lick and bite even if there wasn't any booze on it. She sucked right on his pulse. Hard. Her lips proceeding to move to his jawline, stopping when she reached the corner of his mouth. She planted an innocent peck there, and pulled back with an smirk on her face while she remained sitting comfortably on his lap.

Sam: Feeling her touch sent shivers down his spine. As she began to lick the booze off his chest, he could feel his cock becoming rock hard under his jeans. Everything she was doing was turning him on to an extent that was out of this world. As she began to bite his neck, a soft moan escaped from his lips as his hands trailed up her back, unclasping her bra with one hand. As she pulled away Sam licked his lips, his eyes catching her green ones. "You know what you're doing, huh?" He said with a grin. "I know too" He said as he slid her bra off, exposing her perfect breasts

Liv: Olivia raised a brow when he removed her bra, in one swift movement. She was impressed. "So, you took a piece of clothing from me... I should get even, don't you think?" But before he could even respond, Olivia started grinding down against him. Feeling his hard cock press deliciously against her core. Desiring that friction -- no, /needed/ the friction like she needed air. "I'm so going to have my way with you tonight." She announced, as she leaned down and immediately began to devour his lips, parting his lips with her tongue so she could slide it inside his mouth. Tasting the remains of his previous drink, which was intoxicating her even more. Her hands traveled all the way down to his jeans where she began to unzip them before she broke the kiss and moved her lips to his ear. Where she whispered, "Take them off." Her teeth gracing on his earlobe. She was determined to taste as much of him as she could.

Sam: As he felt her begin to grind against him, Sam let out a soft moan, the friction between them teasing him as he just wanted to be inside her. Just as he was about to answer her, he felt her lips against his and he kissed her back deeply, his tongue sliding into her mouth to further taste her. A devilish grin played across his features as he heard her say take it off. He knew she meant his pants, but instead Sam let his hands glide down her body and began to slide off her jeans and panties, leaving her naked on top of him. "I took it off" He said with a grin before letting his lips catch hers once more.

Liv: Olivia narrowed her eyes as she looked at him, a smirk on her face feeling his hands getting rid of her last pieces of clothing. "That's so not fair" Olivia complained and just when she was about to say something else, his lips found his again and she couldn't help the moan that escaped from the back of her throat. He was driving her crazy and something told her that it was exactly what he was aiming for. "I really /really/ need you to take off the rest of your clothes and fuck me right now." The girl breathed out against the man's lips, before she grabbed his lower one. Tugging on it harder than necessary, loving the way he tasted.

Sam: It was crazy to Sam. He never really hooked up with a person he didn't know. Hell, he didn't even know this girls name, but here he was completely turned on by her every move as if he'd known her his whole life. A grin played across his lips at her request and in one motion he let his muscular arms wrap around her and gently swap her until she was laying down underneath him. "Easy, tiger" He said with a smile, his hazel eyes admiring her body as he began to undo his pants. He pulled his pants down, releasing his hard cock and lined himself up against her sex, slowly pushing into her

Liv: Olivia’s eyes immediately went to his cock, right after he rolled them over. He seemed to swell, thickening, red and eager, almost pulsing. God, she needed him inside her. Her eyes switched to his face and the pure lust and desire she saw that resembled hers almost had her flying to pieces right then and there. “Oh fuck..” Olivia moaned the moment he entered her. Digging her nails into the hard muscle of his shoulders, her breaths coming out in ragged gasps. She was already sensitive from their grinding earlier, and the fullness had her inner walls rippling around him. “You feel so good” she whispered, rocking her hips slightly, urging him even deeper.

Sam: The male let his thick cock sink deep into her slowly, her moans turning him on further. He began to pump in and out of her, picking up his pace with each thrust into her until his entire cock was sliding fully in and out of her. "Fuck, you're so tight" He moaned out in pleasure before he let his lips latch on to one of her breasts, sucking on her nipple, being sure to leave his mark behind

Liv: Olivia whimpered, sensation raining through her, digging her nails into him even harder. The air between them sizzled, electric and intense, setting her nerve endings on fire as much as his hold on her was. Her gasps turned into cries that echoed off the walls as she clung to him. When he picked up the pace, her hips began to move in perfect sync with his. Wanting to feel every single inch of him. Her wet heat encased him perfectly, so damned perfectly, taking over everything. A loud gasp escaped the actress’s mouth the moment she felt his lips on her breasts, it was if he knew exactly what to do to drive her over the edge. “Don’t stop, fuck…” She had to bite on her lower lip to stop herself from being louder than she was already being.

Sam: The musician listened to her words and kept his rhythm going, speeding up and allowing himself to go deeper and harder into her. The fact that she was taking him so effortlessly was such a turn on for the man, and he couldn't get enough. He began to kiss up her neck, sucking on her skin. He kind of felt bad that he was leaving his marks all over this woman, but at least she'd have something to remember him by. "Fuck you feel so good" He moaned against her warm skin, his lips gently grazing her as he spoke. He was feeling himself inch closer to releasing his load, but he wanted her to cum first. So he brought one hand down and began to rub her clit as he continued driving himself deep into her wet pussy

Liv: “Yes, oh god, yes, yes… don’t stop, don’t stop,” she whimpered desperately, her hips moving faster. Every single one of her ministrations was driving her crazy. She knew that by the way he was sucking on her skin, she would surely have marks all over her. Marks from a man whose name she didn’t even know. But she didn’t care. She couldn’t think about anything else than the way this stranger was making her feel. “I’m so close…Fuck..” The moment he rubbed her clit, it was the moment where she lost herself. She stiffened underneath him, her hips moving in a flurry, chasing her release, chasing oblivion… and then she came with a vicious moan, her walls clenched around him, sucking him in even deeper. A sound that ripped out of her chest and echoed through the apartment, her juices flooding both of them, her sex clenching with a needy desperation, her clit trembling under his touch.

Sam: Sam felt as her walls tightened around his thick length, the tightness driving him crazy as he equally released his load while continuing to pump into her. "Fuck, god, just that" His voice deep and raspy as he felt their juices combine. He took his hand from rubbing her sex, bringing it straight to his lips as he licked his fingers clean, tasting her. He slowly pulled out, licking his lips before collapsing next to her, his breathing heavy as he pulled her into him so she could lay on top of him

Liv: Just the mere view of him licking off her juices from his fingers was probably one of the hottest things Olivia had ever witnessed, to the point that she placed a hand behind his neck and kissed him deeply, tasting herself on his lips. "You're not that bad--" The green-eyed girl whispered before she collapsed on top of him. Feeling like she could barely move her limbs. So she decided not to fight it, and instead she got comfortable on his chest. Just needing to rest her eyes for a couple of seconds.

Liv: ------ The Next Morning --------

Liv: The dim light coming from behind her living room curtains woke her up. Keeping her eyes half closed. Why did every single inch of her body hurt? She didn't want to get up just yet. Her eyes were begging her not to force them open, but she did the moment she felt someone's arms around her. She turned to look over her shoulder and saw the man she met last night, still fast asleep behind her on her couch. "What time is it?" The actress said to herself as she extended her hand to grab her phone from the coffee table. Her eyes immediately going wider than ever. "Oh my god. Dan is going to kill me.." She immediately woke up and started picking up her clothes. "Hi um-- shit, I don't know his name.. Hey -- " Olivia poked his muscular arm a few times. "I'm sorry but you need to go /I/ need to go. I'll be dead if I don't make it somewhere in less than 30 minutes SO, thank you for the sex.. it was awesome. Close the door behind you on your way out okay??" She was already walking down the hall to reach her bedroom, needing to shower in less than three minutes. "It was nice meet you! Bye!" She yelled as she closed her bedroom door.

Sam: The musician was in a deep sleep when he felt someone waking him up. He opened his eyes to see the woman he slept with last night frantically moving about. "What the.." He said to himself, grabbing his phone to check the time. "Shit.." He said under his breath, realizing he himself was running late. But it showed that there was two type of people, and maybe it was the Southern in Sam to always keep it slow and steady, and he couldn't help but chuckle as she thanked him and scurried away. "No problem" He said, giving her a wave as he got dressed and made his way out. Luckily Sam lived a few blocks away. He quickly made it home and showered and got into a black button down shirt, black slacks and some nice dress shoes. He had an event he was hosting and he needed to look presentable for the rehersal. Spraying a bit of cologne, Sam slicked his hair back and in no time got into a cab and was making his way through the city to the venue.

Liv: These things didn't happen to her. Of course they didn't. And on the one night she decided to finally let loose, she completely forgets she had work the next day. She was damming herself for that. So, there she was in the back of a cab, trying to do her make up. Sporting a just-fucked hair since she had zero time to do something about it, she was wearing a pair of black tight jeans, a creamed loose blouse, with her favorite grey coat on top. Her crimson red lips matching the red scarf that was around her neck. "Thanks, keep the change!" She said in a hurry once they reached the venue. The actress was quick to find the organizer of the event, apologizing for her tardiness. "Olivia, it's okay. You're just in time." Dan assured with a wide grin as he placed a hand behind the woman's back and began to lead her down some corridors. "Come on, let's go meet your co-host."

Sam: "Thanks for the ride, man." Sam told his uber drive as he got out. He casually walked in, as if he wasn't pressed for time. But he always said you could take the boy out of Georgia but you couldn't take Georgia out the boy. As he saw his manager, he grinned. "Sup?" He said with a laugh, his manager shaking his head. "Let's go Sam, you can't always be cool as a cucumber. You're late! We need to meet your cohost for the event before you go on for soundcheck." The woman told him. Sam nodded and walked into the next room, seeing the back of a brunette woman. "Nice to meet you, I'm Sam Hunt" The man said cordially as he waited for the woman to turn around.

Liv: Olivia was nodding her head, while she listened to some of the instructions that were given to her. But suddenly she heard a voice that paralyzed her in her position... she had heard that voice before, it was one that was hard to forget. What on earth? As she slowly turned around, her eyes fixed on the very same eyes she had been staring at the night before. Was this some kind of joke? The actress stared at him for a few seconds, trying to keep her cool and hide her surprise, but it was almost impossible. Her heart was racing. So she cleared her throat, demanding herself to get her shit together. She was a professional. "Olivia Wilde, pleasure." The actress said, extending her hand while a small smirk began to form on her face.

Sam: As the brunette female turned around, Sam was completely taken back. The fuck was going on. And the second she said her name, Sam couldn't help but smile and shake his head. He had a random hook up with Olivia Wilde. What were the odds. He felt a nudge from his manager. "Be nice!" She said to him, causing him to look at Olivia with his hazel eyes. "Oh, I think we're gonna get on just fine." He said with a smirk, his southern accent piercing through. "I gotta head to sound check, wanna come?" He asked, nodding his head over to the direction of the stage where his band was set up and waiting for him

Liv: Of course -- he was a singer. That's why he seemed so familiar, and that's why she had found his voice so pleasing. How could she had been so stupid? How she had missed this? The actress could only chuckle to herself. Life was in fact a messy rollecoaster, surprising us when we least expect it. Taking us places and putting us in the most unbelievable situations. "Do you know each other?" Dan asked with honest curiosity. Olivia's eyes were still on Sam's while she responded to Dan's question. "We've met." She simply stated, matching Sam's smirk before she said, "lead the way."

#Leave the night on #p: sam #hfrpmc

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thedarkestcrow · 7 years

Text

Tagged

Tagged by @abybweisse (thank you ^^)

1. How has your opinion of yourself changed over the years?

I guess I’ve become more relaxed and don’t worry so much anymore what others may think of me. I’m happy with who I am. :)

2. If you had to pick one book to read for the rest of your life, which book would you pick?

Only one book? Hmm, I guess every book gets boring if you read it too often. Haha, how about a dictionary? At least I’d be learning a new language then. XD Or a very long book with lots of small riddles and mathematical puzzles. I really enjoy such things and once I’d be through with all I could start again since I probably would have forgotten the solutions for the first ones already. XD

3. What’s your favorite season? Do you have a particular reason for liking it?

Every season has something unique that’s enjoyable. But my favorite is spring. I like it if it gets warmer again after winter and if all starts to bloom. :)

4. What’s your favorite thing to do when you want to relax?

Listening to music, especially classical/instrumental music. There’s great music in movies or in anime and listening to it while lying on my terrace or even while riding a bike is one of favorite things to do. :)

5. Do you consider yourself lazy?

Yeah, sometimes I really am. I mean, if I do have plans I’m pulling through but I also have days where I laze around all day and realize in the evening that I haven’t done anything productive all day. XD

6. What’s your view on morality?

I guess everyone has their own view of what’s right or wrong. And there isn’t just always good and bad, there’s a lot in between. Sure, no one is perfect but I think if everyone respected each other even if they have a different opinion, if no one did to others what they wouldn’t like others doing to them and if everyone tried to be more friendly and less demanding of each other things would be a lot nicer.

7. When are you most productive? 

When I’m motivated and if I don’t have any distraction.

8. Do you have any strong opinions about things most people don’t think much about?

Hmm.... about Kuro, I guess. XD

9. How do you handle stress?

I usually can handle it quite well. I am usually quite organized so I try not to let stress become too much at once. I always try to take some time to distract myself from whatever’s stressing me and that usually works quite well.

10. What would your ideal world be like?

No war, no disease, no suffering, no hate, no fear. A harmonious coexistence between all cultures and religions with access to education, healthy nutrition and healthcare for everyone. Equal rights, mutual respect, freedom (of speech, movement,...),... A world in which people and nations would find solutions for the world’s problems (climate change, pollution, decline of natural resources,...) together instead of fighting each other for profit and power. A world in which everyone can pursue their own individual idea of happiness without being hindered and without hindering others.

Extra Questions:

1.) What’s one story that you want to write/create but won’t (or haven’t yet)?

I’m not really much of a story writer. I rather enjoy reading them. ^^

2.) What’s an interesting moment of self-discovery in your life?

Hmm, I don’t think I can pinpoint it to one moment in my life. There are always small changes and I think that’s how I have developed until now. And isn’t life a constant journey of rediscovering yourself anew? ;)

3.) Dream job?  

Hard to say. I just hope that the path I’m following right now is the right one for me and leads me to my dream job. :)

4.) What’s a book/movie/show that has had a large influence on you?

While I grew up the Harry Potter books accompanied me and I still love reading them. I even started to read them in English -- which is not my first language -- when I was 13 or so. It was the first book I read in English by my own choice and it helped me immensely to get a feeling for the foreign language. So I guess you could say Harry Potter taught me English. XD

And of course Black Butler also had great influence on me (who would have thought). XD I was aware of manga/anime before but Kuro is what really caught me. It made me active in the fandom, let me get to know great people and new friends and got me into other great shows as well. :)

5.) Has music ever changed your life, or at least your outlook on life?

Music is very important to me. It helps me to relax or reminds me of certain stages in my life. So without music there would definitely be something missing.

6.) Imagine you’ve become an established author/artist/creator. What would you want the fandom for your works to be like?

I would like the fandom to be nice to each other. Discussing my work, being creative with fanart, fanfiction or other fanworks and finding new friends within the fandom. But I’d hope that they always be respectful with each other and that there’d be no place for hatred.

7.) Same scenario as #6. What would the fandom actually be like?

I guess, there would still be hatred, sadly. But as it is with most fandoms (at least that’s what I hope), those who spread negativity are a noisy minority. Most fans are gentle, respectful and friendly. :)

8.) What’s a subject that you think should be taught in schools but typically isn’t taught at all?

I think what really is missing in schools (at least here) is how to be an adult. And by this I mean some teaching about insurances, taxes, how to handle property and capital, some basic knowledge about stock exchange, investments, tenancy law, tax return,... I know this sounds like boring stuff but this is really important once you are an adult. And I think it would be a lot easier if you learn some basics in school so that it’s easier once you really need it.

9.) What’s a subject that you think should be taught differently in schools from how it usually is?

Maybe religious education. Instead of teaching every religion separately at school I think children should be taught together and the teacher should be neutral without trying to convert anyone in a certain direction. In that way, everyone would get different views of different religions and learn to respect one another in their beliefs. And it should not only cover religion but also ethics, morality and how to get along with each other. I know, R.E. is not only about the religion one has for themselves and it also covers other religions and problems in society. But it’s main purpose is still to lead the children to the respective religion (at least that’s what was written in the curriculum when I went to school) and I feel like this is something that a church but not a school should do.

Of course, this is just my opinion. You don’t have to agree. ;)

10.) Are there any patterns in your interests/works that wouldn’t be immediately obvious to an outside observer?

I’m not sure. I mean of course there are things that I’m keeping to myself and that are not obvious to people who don’t know me so well, if that’s what is meant here. But I guess everyone has that. ^^

Tagging: @midnight-in-town, @hitsugikuro, @thebeautifulmacabre, @abbyfushimi, @yelena-chan, @chickennuggetnoodles, @kashikoikawaiisaschachen, @lapyn, @redvioletprincess, @nellgrey, @shinigami-mistress, @rachel-dalles and @sebas-chan-butler (of course only if you like to do it or haven’t done it already) <3

#these were quite interesting #some of these were quite deep #^^#about me #tagged #personal

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suzanneshannon · 4 years

Text

Everything and Nothing

I've been thinking about the question for a solid month now. What about building websites has you interested this year? The question pervaded my solitary thoughts and played in the background during my conversations. I’d love to just tell you the answer I’ve come to, but the more interesting part was my thought journey in getting there.

I jumped at the opportunity to write up my thoughts on this because in general, I am delighted to dive into a conversation about anything that gets me excited. Writing, though, is heavy with irony in my life. There are so many exciting things that I'd love to write about, but I never get asked to write about them. That is of course, until I do, and my mind goes blank.

Even when I properly sat down, cleared my desk, and got out a fresh notebook out to brainstorm and reflect... I still couldn't really come up with an answer. It worried me.

I thought that maybe my answer would be too meta. Or maybe I couldn't really notice the thing I’m interested in the most because it's already seamlessly integrated into my workflow? Nonetheless, I started by collecting thoughts by way of the insta-question-answer technique, where you rapid-fire ask yourself a bunch of questions and say the first thing that comes to mind. This is a great technique when you want to get a quick, reasonably honest answer about something. If you can go fast enough, your brain's first answer is fairly genuine and generally, the one you have, consciously or subconsciously, spent time thinking about. You also have to place an injunction on your rational brain's inherent desire to veto your real answers (what if someone sees!) and replace them with more polished ones.

Let's Play: This Year's Favorites

What's your favorite song from this year? Old Town Road. I want more black cowboys wearing yellow to exist. I didn't realize how much I wanted that to exist until I saw that performance.

What movie did you like the most? Godzilla: King of the Monsters. Obviously, even though that little girl should have died like 20 times. I know I probably should have said Avengers End Game because that movie was everything but it's Godzilla. King of the Monsters. So he has to win.

Favorite tech upgrade? Automating my lights. I was a little behind the curve on this one but it's been great.

Mobile App? Kami 2. Super fun to play.

What about building websites has interested you this year? Um...

My brain shut down. There was no answer, only silence.

I thought of the answers I should want to say. That the increased focus on accessibility is encouraging. That the new edition of Ember feels pretty nice once you get over not having magic anymore. That design systems done right, paired with a framework done right, is pure productivity bliss.

Truth is, I probably could have made any of those answers work, and no one would be the wiser. After all, they are satisfying answers. Deeply satisfying. Years of passion, patience, and persistence is yielding the fruits of our labor. But none of these answers set isInteresting to true for me. So I kept thinking. Surely the answer would come to me if I let it hang around in my sub-conscious a little more.

A week came and went, but there was still nothing.

I started to become a little anxious. What did it mean? Was I burnt out? Was I just not interested in building websites anymore? Have I lost the spark? Maybe I was just not talented enough to write an article like this? Did I say "yes" to the wrong thing? As tempting as it was to crawl into bed under my covers and continue this downward spiral into the endless black hole "what does it all mean", I decided to make a strong cup of tea and lean on the skills I have developed over the last 20 plus years of building for the web.

Problem Solving Skills

We already have everything we need. There is no need for self-improvement. All these trips that we lay on ourselves—the heavy-duty fearing that we’re bad and hoping that we’re good, the identities that we so dearly cling to, the rage, the jealousy and the addictions of all kinds—never touch our basic wealth. They are like clouds that temporarily block the sun. But all the time our warmth and brilliance are right here. This is who we really are. We are one blink of an eye away from being fully awake.

This quote is from a prominent Zen Buddhist and one that I reach for when I get stuck inside myself. I remind myself that I already know the answer, I just need to use the tools I have to bring it out and let it shine. I needed to trust the process that has worked time and time again for me: slow up, write everything down, and just ship it.

Part 1) Slow Up

I had become so engrossed in the every-day mundane I was missing the inspiration. It's easy to get bogged down in lines of code, JIRA tickets, and quarterly goals, all the while explaining ad nauseum that developers should reach for semantic HTML first. I recognize the signs now and knew what I needed to do. I needed to slow down to get faster. Sounds counter-intuitive, right? But it’s the same in software engineering: slow is fast. We have proven, time and time again, that when we rush solutions we incur technical debt that we are unlikely to ever repay.

So I took some time to catch my breath and feed my creativity.

I read a book. I watched an interview with an author. I learned from a video series about a standup comedian talking about their process in creating. I sat still and listened to some cello music.

Part 2) Write Everything Down

The next part of my process is to write things down. When creative inspiration is missing, I turn to functional discipline. I have learned that they are the yin and yang of my creative process as a whole. So, I started to make lists. I listed all of the things I have shipped so far this year. I listed all of the conferences where I gave talks and the conferences where I wanted to give talks but didn't. I wrote down the things that gave me confidence this past year and the things that made me feel like an imposter. I looked at my goals from the start of the year and made a list of the things I'd done for each goal.

Then I started writing a little more, this time in paragraphs. I transcribed one of my talks and took notes on where I would do better next time. I write a review of one of my annual goals and thought a bit more deeply about what motivates and inspires me.

Part 3) Just Ship It

Then it came to me. I knew the answer.

It was nothing, but it was everything.

Nothing specifically about building websites has specifically interested me this year - but I'm still as interested as ever in building them. The answer to "what about building websites has interested you this year" is simply a resounding "Yes".

Yes, because I still love thinking about design, components, and the perfect information architecture. Yes, because as much as I swear at my code, I keep coming back to it, keep finding new things to love about it, keep feeling energized when that idea just clicks and something great happens. Yes, because despite doing this for 22 years, I still want to get up and do it again tomorrow.

And that’s when I knew that I could just ship it.

The tech of today, the tech of tomorrow

We are at a specific time and place in tech. Those of us who are building for the web have become more aware of how the tech we create effects those around us. We are starting to accept our responsibility for the lines of code that we write, and see that we cannot merely pass the buck to our supervisors and bosses to make ethical decisions. We are demanding more of ourselves, demanding more from the code we write and the systems we use, demanding more from the giants of technology who seek to abdicate responsibility for how their tech is used.

At the same time, we are figuring out how to climb the proverbial mountain together, while recapturing the fun we had back in the days we called ourselves "webmasters". We are learning to be kinder to ourselves and others. We are figuring out how to make creating for the web easier to learn and to do and we are breaking down the walls that kept far too many people out for too long.

I was watching my son while he was absorbed in lightsaber battles in virtual reality and thinking about how his childhood is so different than mine. The tech I had back then isn’t anything near the tech I have today, and the tech he has today won’t be the tech he has as an adult. What do I imagine that will look like? Even bigger than that, what do I want to help bring into existence?

The truth is, it's all interesting to me. All of it. I can't wait to see we do next and I’m so here for it.

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Special Sauce: Rodney Scott Was Born and Raised to...

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Special Sauce: Rodney Scott Was Born and Raised to...

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[Rodney Scott photograph: Andrew Cebulka. Barbecue photograph: J. Kenji López-Alt]

Barbecue pitmasters are among our nation’s greatest storytellers—they learn that all-important skill tending to their ‘cue all night. But Rodney Scott, South Carolina pitmaster and James Beard Award winner, might just have the best story of all to tell, as you’ll hear on this week’s Special Sauce.

When Scott was growing up, his family started making barbecue one day a week at their general store in the tiny town of Hemingway, South Carolina, two hours’ drive from Charleston. As Rodney tells it, “We did whole-hog barbecue sandwiches like most gas stations do hot dogs. It was just an extra income, just a quick side meal. And we did it on Thursdays.” But demand gradually grew until, finally, the barbecue itself became the core business, and with that shift came a huge increase in the hard work of producing it, all of it shared by young Rodney, an only child.

It started with cutting down trees and splitting wood to make the charcoal. “If we did two hogs, or four hogs, whatever, we had to have enough wood to get it done,” Scott told me. “And my dad would never let you lay around in the afternoons. You got off the school bus, you did homework, you went to work…. Of course, after cutting wood, you had to load it, haul it, help unload at the barbecue pit. And if you were out of school, you had to cook…. My high school graduation, I’m 17 years old, I walk out and speak to my dad, hold up my diploma, and he says, ‘You need to be at the barbecue pit at 12 o’clock tonight.'”

After he graduated, the work became even more intense. “Three nights a week, we worked all night long. We had guys there in the daytime, and I was there all night. So being there all night, you had to keep the fire going to keep enough hot coals to fire up your hogs…. You had to have enough coals to fire anywhere from two to 15 hogs, because you never knew how many you were going to cook.”

Not only did this upbringing develop Scott’s lifelong love for barbecue, the discipline and work ethic it instilled in him clearly assisted in his journey from driving a tractor as a six-year-old kid on a tobacco farm, to cooking for John T. Edge, to opening his own restaurant in Charleston and winning the Beard Award for Best Chef: Southeast. To get the whole story, you’re just going to have to listen to the episode. You won’t be disappointed, only inspired.

Special Sauce is available on iTunes, Google Play Music, Soundcloud, Player FM, and Stitcher. You can also find the archive of all our episodes here on Serious Eats and on this RSS feed.

You Could Be on Special Sauce

Want to chat with me and our unbelievably talented recipe developers? We’re accepting questions for Special Sauce call-in episodes now. Do you have a recurring argument with your spouse over the best way to maintain a cast iron skillet? Have you been working on your mac and cheese recipe for the past five years, but can’t quite get it right? Does your brother-in-law make the worst lasagna, and you want to figure out how to give him tips? We want to get to know you and solve all your food-related problems. Send us the whole story at [email protected].

Transcript

Ed Levine: Welcome to Special Sauce, Serious Eats’ podcast about food and life. Every week on Special Sauce, we talk to some of the leading lights of American culture, food folks and non-food folks alike. And have you thought about running for office?

Rodney Scott: I’ve thought about it once, years ago. And then I found out that you gotta tell a lot of lies, and I said, “I don’t know if that’s gonna work.” And I saw the trouble that politicians can get into and I said, “I’ll take my chances on barbecue.”

EL: This week is indeed our great pleasure to welcome one of the nation’s premier barbecue pitmasters, whole hog auteur, restaurateur, and dare I say chef, Rodney Scott.

RS: How are you?

EL: Good, how are you, Rodney? So good to see you, Reverend.

RS: Wow.

EL: And he is the proprietor of Rodney Scott’s BBQ in Charleston, South Carolina. He was just named the Best Chef Southeast by the James Beard Foundation, and I believe you were the first pitmaster to do so.

RS: And I am-

EL: Congratulations.

RS: Thank you, sir. Thank you, sir.

EL: So anyway, we are so honored that you’ve graced us with your presence. I know you have a zillion things to do.

RS: Thank you all for having me.

EL: Oh, it’s great, man. So let’s start by asking you about life at the Scott family table growing up.

RS: Wow. Life at the Scott family table growing up, it was interesting. We all sat down on Sundays to eat, you know? Me, my mom, and my dad. Every Sunday after church we would sit and eat. Throughout the week, whenever we had a chance, we would eat one or two cooked meals. My favorite was Wednesday nights when my mom made pork and beans, which is baked beans over rice. That was one of my favorite meals I remember growing up with her. It was interesting. You sat there and you ate. It wasn’t a lot of conversation. You just ate. You liked it or you didn’t, you know? It was-

EL: But you were … Nobody asked for your opinion?

RS: No. Nobody asked for your opinion, and you better had eat. Eat or no drink. And, you know, that was my Mom’s rules. And a lot of times I got my drink, ’cause I did eat.

EL: So were you living near the store?

RS: As a child growing up, no. We lived 10 miles away-

EL: Got it.

RS: From the store. Yeah. We’re 10 miles out. And I just … I moved closer to the store back in 2000. I was across the street from the restaurant.

EL: So you were 10 miles from the store, which we should say was as much a convenience store as it was a barbecue joint, right?

RS: Definitely. It was exactly … That’s exactly what it was.

EL: So … And tell us about how it came to be at this convenience in Hemingway, South Carolina, two hours from Charleston?

RS: It started with … We did whole hog barbecue sandwiches like most gas stations do hot dogs. It was just an extra income, just a quick side meal. And we did it on Thursdays. And the demand of people wanting barbecue and getting one sandwich, two, or they would buy a pound. That increased, and we went from Thursdays to Fridays. Then we moved to Saturdays. And we noticed an increase in demand and we stopped focusing on the general store and we focused on the barbecue itself.

EL: Was it still a working farm?

RS: Yes. We were still working on the farm-

EL: Oh my God.

RS: Growing tobacco, plowing corn, planting beans, planting corn. You know, I’ve rode tractors for hours and hours.

EL: You probably learned how to drive a tractor when you were 10?

RS: Six.

EL: Six?

RS: Yes. They put you on the seat, they gave you the procedures, they showed you one gear. And you learned how to put it in that one gear and steer it going real slow down the row.

EL: Wow.

RS: And we got it to the end, somebody would run in front of the tractor and help you stop it. And then they would turn it around and put it in the next row and put you back in the seat. And you did it again.

EL: And you were growing tobacco and then were you drying it, too? Or were you sending it to the sheds?

RS: We grew it. We dried it. We loaded the barns, we unloaded the barns. I mean, I did it all.

EL: Wow.

RS: Picked cucumbers, butter beans, all of that.

EL: Barbecue was easier than farming?

RS: Yes. Oh my God, yes.

EL: But that’s hard to believe, because barbecue is like a 24/7 thing, too.

RS: That’s alright. It’s easier than farming. Can you imagine a snake crossing the field in front of you while you’re picking cucumbers, and you don’t know where that snake went, and you gotta move bushes back to pick cucumbers. It’s like, wait a minute, where did that snake go? You know? You’re walking down this long row, and you see bear prints in the field, you don’t know was that really a bear? Is it close by?

EL: And if it really is a bear, do I really want to know that?

RS: Exactly, you know? So I prefer the barbecue pit. I can deal with the heat. I know what’s around me. I can see what’s coming.

EL: So you gravitated towards the barbecue pit?

RS: Yes, I did gravitate towards barbecue pit.

EL: So you were working the store and the fields all through high school?

RS: All through high school, all through childhood. You know, we farmed on days, we cut wood on certain days. And we cooked barbecue on other days.

EL: You did this great short film with Joe York from the Southern Foodways Alliance called Cut/Chop/Cook, which I think is a brilliant but extremely abbreviated description of how you made your barbecue, at least at Hemingway. I want every delicious, gory detail. Because I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who started with cutting the trees down.

RS: Well, the cutting the trees down came with the discipline of you having to do chores. So in the middle of doing chores, you had to go help cut wood. And if we did two hogs, or four hogs, whatever, we had to have enough wood to get it done. And my sad would never let you lay around in the afternoons. You got off the school bus, you did homework, you went to work, Or, you went to work and came home and do homework.

EL: Wow.

RS: Very hard-working environment, you know? It wasn’t always I’m going to the neighbor’s house and play ball.

EL: Right. There was little of that during the week probably?

RS: Very little. Very, very little. And then where we lived was so remote, the neighbors were a quarter mile up the street. Or should I say the dirt road. So you always had to work, and cut wood was one of those things. And, of course, after cutting wood, you had to load it, haul it, help unload at the barbecue pit. And if you were out of school, you had to cook.

EL: And first you had to take the wood, cut it, and I’ve seen film of you doing that. And then you put it in a homemade chimney, you know, that made it into coal.

RS: Exactly. Those were old fuel drums from old tobacco barns or any type of home that had an oil system or oil heating system that we used. And before we had hydraulic splitters, you had to split wood by hand. So I had to swing an ax, you know? I had to load it up. There was a point in my life where I had to split one to three truckloads of wood myself every day.

EL: Are you kidding?

RS: Every day.

EL: And that was after school?

RS: That was after school. You can get one in. And that Friday or Saturday, you get another one in. And if it was winter time and school break, you worked every day. So you get two or three truckloads in a day.

EL: Oh my God. That’s insane.

RS: Work was so intense, and my dad was so serious about it, my graduation night-

EL: Your high school graduation?

RS: My high school graduation, I’m 17 years old, I walk out and I speak to my Dad, hold up my diploma, and he says, “You need to be at the barbecue pit at 12 o’clock tonight.

EL: Oh my God. So let’s finish the process. So you’re making the coal from the wood that you’ve split. Then, you split the hogs, right?

RS: Yes.

EL: You put them on the grill. You specialize in whole hog barbecue.

RS: That’s my specialty, yes.

EL: Right. So you put it skin side down. Am I right?

RS: Skin side up, first.

EL: Skin side up? Okay.

RS: Skin side up.

EL: So … And when did the hogs go in, like … You must have been working all night?

RS: Three nights a week, we worked all night long. We had guys there in the daytime, and I was there all night. So being there all night, you had to keep the fire going to keep enough hot coals to fire up your hogs. With that being said, you had to have enough coals to fire anywhere from two to 15 hogs, because you never knew how many you were gonna cook. And holidays meant increased numbers, which means more work at night. Which can mean two burn barrels going at the same time. It was intense, it was hard work.

EL: What incredible discipline and work ethic your parents instilled in you.

RS: Oh my God, yes. You had to work or you were in trouble. And I did not want to get in trouble. So it was work, work, work.

EL: And yet you still stay that barbecue is easier than farming?

RS: It still was. Yes. It definitely was. You’re talking getting on a tractor at about seven in the morning. You’re not gonna get off that tractor until maybe three or four o’clock in the afternoon. Dust, sand flying all over the place.

EL: Snakes, bears.

RS: Snakes, bears. At noon, you gotta hope that you don’t use all your water before noon. It’s inconvenient. You’re in the woods somewhere plowing a field.

EL: That’s so, so crazy. So the barbecue took off and sort of left the convenience store stuff in the dust, no pun intended?

RS: Yes.

EL: And so that’s what your parents did every day when you were in school?

RS: Yes.

EL: And then you came home and … You have siblings?

RS: Just me.

EL: Just you. So it was just the three of you keeping this barbecue joint and convenience store. Which was only a convenience store at the end probably no days a week, right?

RS: Pretty much. Pretty much.

EL: You loved it, though?

RS: I loved it. Yeah.

EL: I mean, I don’t get the sense you resented it or that you wanted to rebel and come to New York and be a poet or whatever.

RS: No. My first dream was to be in the auto body, in mechanics. Because I love vehicles.

EL: Got it. From being on the tractor when you were five.

RS: Being on the tractor, yeah, you know? I loved the way vehicles operate. I love the way they drive. Everything about ’em.

EL: And yet, one of the things I felt was really interesting … Another film I watched of yours was that music sustained you.

RS: Yes. Music is the one drug that I hope to never heal from. That’s an addiction that I always want to have, music.

EL: So even in high school, when you were coming home, there’d be music?

RS: There was always music.

EL: Always music?

RS: Always.

EL: And that sustained you even to this day?

RS: That’s still my medicine.

EL: I did notice you’re a fan of Naughty By Nature.

RS: Yes.

EL: You’re a fan of Anthony Hamilton, Best of Me?

RS: That’s my favorite, yes. Oh my God.

EL: And you’re a fan of Don’t Make Me Beg, by Tucka?

RS: Yes.

EL: But which one of them is your karaoke jam?

RS: I would have to say Anthony Hamilton.

EL: Really?

RS: “Giving you the best of me.” I’ve seen this guy in concert so many times. My wife looks at me and say, “Again?” And I would say, “Yes.” You know? And the last show we saw him at, we had the pleasure of sitting front row. And it was Charlie Wilson and Anthony Hamilton performing that night. So you had legend and you had my favorite. And Anthony Hamilton looked down in the first row and saluted me.

EL: ‘Cause he knew … He’d seen you so many times.

RS: And not only that, we … Turned out that we have a mutual friend that knows him. And they told me that he remembers a lot of faces and he loves to cook. And at that same show, he mentioned he likes a lot of eggs in his potato salad. And I was like, that’s my man.

EL: That’s awesome. That’s awesome. You know, I spent many years in the music business. I was in the jazz business. You probably don’t know this, but I ran like a jazz club-

RS: Wow.

EL: I produced some Dr. John records. I’ve done all kinds of weird shit, Rodney.

RS: Nice.

EL: You know, it’s like … But never driven a tractor when I was five. Probably never driven a tractor at all.

RS: It was crazy.

EL: So people started paying attention. You were this convenience slash barbecue joint in the middle of rural South Carolina, right?

RS: Yes.

EL: Two hours from Charleston. I remember I got really … My wife got really mad at me because we were visiting some people in Charleston. I was like, “There’s this barbecue joint I gotta go to.” I said, “I think it’s only an hour away.” ‘Cause I knew it was the only way I could get to go.

RS: Get her to go.

EL: So it’s like … And then she’s like, “Okay. We’re an hour and a half.” Oh no, we’re right here! We’re right here! So what happened? Was it the Southern Foodways people? Like, how did people get to know that you existed?

RS: Amazing.

EL: Beyond your area code or your zip code?

RS: Amazing story. Reggie Gibson, who can go for Donald Sutherland if you’re blinking your eyes real fast, an architect from Charleston. And he was mutual friends with John T. Edge, who we all know is with SFA. And Reggie told John T., “You think you know barbecue or had barbecue, you should check out this little spot out in the country.” So Reggie sent John T. John T. came in, tasted, liked what he tasted. And it just went from there. The invitation came to come do an SFA dinner in Charleston.

EL: Yeah. I think that’s where I … Oh, you know I met … Didn’t you also do the conference in Oxford?

RS: I did. I did do the Oxford conference as well. And it was the Southern Foodways Alliance that introduced me to Nick and-

EL: Nick from ….

RS: Jim N’ Nick’s.

EL: Jim N’ Nick’s in Birmingham.

RS: Yes.

EL: Who’s sort of this barbecue business ambassador, right?

RS: Nick’s a great dude. He kind of guided me to help me improve my craft, my business. And even gave me ideas to help just move myself forward.

EL: Yeah, he … You know, I’ve only met him a couple times, but people talk about him so reverentially, ’cause he’s not one of these guys who gives you advice and then expects a return.

RS: No, he doesn’t expect anything. You know, he and I have been so tight for so many years that he was my best man-

EL: Really?

RS: At my wedding.

EL: Wow.

RS: So we’re that tight.

EL: So was it weird when people starting making pilgrimages from all over the world to your humble barbecue joint in Hemingway? Like, did they ask you to autograph their aprons? Like, what happened? What was that like?

RS: Oh, man. It was humbling. It was an experience that I just couldn’t believe. But just to sit there and go through it made me step back and take a look at my personality, you know? My craft that caught the attention. My respect for the people who took the drive out to Hemingway. ‘Cause it’s quite a ride. And it made me appreciate the people appreciating what I do. And I’ve always tried to give them that respect and that Southern charm I’ve always thought was everywhere in the world.

EL: You know, some people who do that, I don’t feel like it’s genuine. But I feel like you really do like to meet people and watch them enjoy your food. Like, I think you should be a politician. Have you thought about running for office?

RS: I thought about it once years ago. And then I found out that you gotta tell a lot of lies. And I said, “I don’t know if that’s gonna work.” And I saw the trouble that politicians can get into, and I said, “I’ll take my chances on barbecue.”

EL: So do you think that the values your parents instilled in you sort of enabled you to drink this celebrityhood in without getting tripped up by it?

RS: Oh, yeah. You know, every time I’m recognized or appreciated for something or I get some accolade, it also takes me back to the humble beginning of be respectful. Be patient. Be aware of what you did and try to make it consistent over and over and over. You know, to take a step back. The week after I got back from Chicago from the awards ceremony, I was dumping trash. And a young lady showed up and said, “Wow. You dump your own trash.” And I said, “Yes. Why not?” But I appreciate. I love it. Lovin’ the ride, lovin’ the wave. All the same time, I’m respecting and wanting to inspire everybody that’s heard about it, that encounters me that wants to know how can they get started on their craft.

EL: What’s the best piece of advice you’ve ever gotten as both a pitmaster and as a businessperson? And what’s the one piece of advice you would give to anybody who wants to make great barbecue or open a barbecue joint? I know that’s a bunch of questions-

RS: Wow. The one great piece I would have to say came from my mom, and it wasn’t directly towards barbecue. She said, “Respect will take you where money never will.” And with that being said, I like to respect people and what they do. And the second piece of advice, which came from Nick, be influential. Influence. Continue the movement. The respect-

EL: Pay it forward.

RS: Exactly. Pay it forward. Because you never know who you touch, who you can reveal. And the two things that I got the very week after James Beard was, two barbecue guys said to me … These guys were unknown, they’re backyard guys. They just have a dream. One guy said, “I’m going to study for my ServSafe, because I want to start pulling my trailer and do the right thing.”

EL: Wow.

RS: Another guy said to me, “I believe you now. Here’s a picture of my rig. I’m gonna start setting up my catering job. I have all my paperwork.”

EL: Wow.

RS: Two people.

EL: Amazing.

RS: Two people. And I felt like I’ve reached the world with just those two. And I want to inspire people, let them know that you can do anything you want. You can take what you believe in and just make the best of it. Just be respectful and continue to influence.

EL: And be respectful of the process, right?

RS: Exactly. Exactly.

EL: Because there’s no such thing as a shortcut in what you do, is there?

RS: No shortcuts. No shortcuts. None. None.

EL: And probably every time you try to take one, it boomeranged on you?

RS: Oh, quite a few of them did, yes. Quite a few did. So, you know, be patient. Follow process. Don’t be in it just for fame or fortune, but be genuine with it. And be influential. Be respectful.

EL: Yeah. And, I mean, you have to take it slow. You can’t speed things up. I mean, how long are the hogs on the-

RS: 12 hours the hogs are cooking.

EL: 12 hours?

RS: 12 hours.

EL: That’s a lot of jams, man-

RS: Yes, sir-

EL: To listen to in 12 hours.

RS: Man, I party. I party, too. I’m telling you. I start slow, and I pick it up later on. I party. Yeah, you might see some of the most awful dancing in the world. But it don’t matter, because I’m in my zone. Barbecuing and partying.

EL: That’s great. When people started paying attention to what you’re doing in Hemingway, like John T. and Nick Robinson, did those two play a role in your decision to open your own joint in Charleston?

RS: They did. Doing that dinner and seeing appreciation that people gave me for that dinner let me know that other people in other areas understand and appreciate barbecue. Not just Hemingway. Because in my mind, it was just Hemingway that was appreciating barbecue, and nobody else outside of the area. But all the same time, they kept saying, “You saw how that person appreciated it. Maybe you should think about it.” And that played a big part. I said, “If I could do that dinner, and that dinner was about a hundred people, why don’t I take about a hundred people a day and pretend I’m doing a dinner and open up this restaurant?” So it gave me that inspiration to take the chance.

EL: And what year was that?

RS: That was 2015 when we made that decision.

EL: Got it.

RS: Late ’15 we made that decision to finally go ahead and do it.

EL: And did you have to get outside investors? Like, how did you do it?

RS: Oh man, that’s-

EL: Like, you wrote a business plan, did the whole deal?

RS: No. That’s where me and Nick just put our heads together-

EL: Got it.

RS: And said let’s start searching. And we did. We searched, we were patient. You know, we did our homework. We did our travels. And we put our heads together and created some extra recipes. And here we are.

EL: Yeah. It’s amazing. And so is the Hemingway place still opened or no?

RS: Hemingway is still open. Mom and dad are in control of that. So that gave me more opportunity to focus on Charleston.

EL: Got it.

RS: I didn’t have to worry about what’s happening at home-

EL: And you didn’t have to feel guilty about it?

RS: I didn’t have to feel guilty at all. And I just moved on and went and got the ball rolling in Charleston.

EL: Wow. That’s so great. And so Nick and John T. I suppose really helped in enabling you to move to Charleston?

RS: Very much so.

EL: Which is a very different kind of a place, right? It’s a real restaurant, it’s not a convenience store turned into a barbecue joint, right?

RS: It’s a full restaurant. It’s a full restaurant. And-

EL: You’re making fried catfish-

RS: Yes, sir.

EL: You know … And how does that make you feel? Is it … Was it difficult to make the transition?

RS: No. The adjustment was more of … A staffing thing was my biggest challenge. Making the adjustment, working with people … Trying to show them something that I’ve been doing all of my life. Had to learn how to prepare them the right way.

EL: You had to learn how to school people.

RS: Exactly. So it was a learning process for me, as well as all of the new folks that were coming in. And, you know, one thing I do really, really appreciate about John T. and Nick that a lot of people will probably never believe is that they weren’t there just to pat you on the back. They were there to discipline you as well. You know, they let you know, hey, this is … There’s a certain way to do things. And I think you should reconsider this, or do it a different way. They weren’t afraid to be that big brother, if you will. To let you know that you’re not just all praises here. We’re gonna discipline you to make sure that you don’t make any mistakes. And just realizing that was more appreciative than them saying, good job, good job.

EL: Right. For sure.

RS: You know? That shows that-

EL: You need people to tell you.

RS: You gotta have people to tell you.

EL: You know, it’s true and we should mention that our mutual friend John T. Edge is recuperating from a terrible car accident. But I’ve been emailing him every week, Rodney, and he seems to be doing better. I think he’s getting really impatient sitting on the couch, watching TV, movies, reading books.

RS: I checked on him several times, too.

EL: Seems like he’s doing okay. But we send him our love and our prayers.

RS: Yes. Get well soon, John T.

EL: Gonna have to leave it right here for your first episode of Special Sauce. But we are gonna keep talking about Charleston, raise some barbecue, more about music for the next episode. I want to thank you for coming on. We’re gonna keep it right here. And we’ll see you next time, Serious Eaters.

RS: Thank you. Thank you.

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probsnothawkeye · 10 months

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Twitter is dying which means im crossposting my long posts about Ethics Town because i promised Louis and also myself that i would be as annoying as possible about how much I love this show

Anways its Saturday again which means new @ethicstownpod which means new post talking about the new episode of Ethics Town

I know January said to stay the hell away from Ethics but I'm chomping at the bit to get more of this show so let's talk! Spoilers below as always

Louis. Louis I know you see this. This was such an EXCELLENT use of the trolley problem, both philosophically and just thematically. When I saw the title I was like 👀 And then the application of the trolley problem had me like !!!!!!! Also this show which starts with a murder (which January STILL hasn't told Artemis about and im shaking him by the collar like I'm a cartoon bully) keeps finding ways to get darker and I do mean that as a compliment

Ethics Town is horror in the way that real life is horror. People in Ethics are willing to do whatever to get their way and it's absolutely chilling to see

And January. Oh January. He's trying so hard and yet you just *know* it's not going to be effective. He's trying to protect the town from the mayor, protect Artemis from the truth. But it's never going to be what he intends for it to be. Ethics will chew him up and spit him out (and you can decide if I mean the philosophy or the town)

Which sidebar we GOTTA talk about Rhy Lawton's performance as January!!! Incredible doesn't even begin to describe his performance. He has made January the wettest cat of a man but has also almost made me cry with just the raw emotion and guilt in January's voice. When he said "I have a family" my heart broke fully in my chest. An excellent excellent performance that gets better each episode

Also Cai Gwilym Pritchard's editing. I have talked a lot about how good Cai's editing is. But my gods they truly are a marvel

I am once again demanding that everyone listen to Ethics Town

Its so so so fucking good

And Louis Hendry deserves the world

#ethics town #pine throws thoughts into the void of tumblr

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emilyjanestuff · 7 years

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Anime Review: From the New World Episode Nine: The Raising Winds, English Dub.

Warning: The series I am reviewing contains depictions of child abduction, disappearance, murder, and violence in a future totalitarian society. It also depicts sexual violence. The show also contains sexual relationships between young people. That is the trigger warning.

Leave now if you wish.

Also, spoilers for the episode and the whole series. Do not read any further if you don’t want spoilers.

Recap: We open with the characters in school. Older Saki tells us that Shun hasn’t been to school for four days. The remaining members of group one gather outside the school. Satoru says they need to find Shun and make sure he isn’t in trouble. He is willing to do whatever it needed. Maria says it sounds like Satoru is trying to be Shun’s white knight. Satoru says that is not why he is doing this. There are too many questions that need answering. What did Shun mean by watch out for cats and what has happened to him? Most importantly is someone spying on them? Maria and Mamoru caution they need to be careful. Saki agrees after all if the monster rats could train birds to spy on them then what can the ethics committee do? Could a bug be listening to them?

In the end to not draw attention to themselves they split up. Saki and Shun will look at Shun’s house. Meanwhile Maria and Mamoru will ask around to see if they can find out anything. Satoru and Saki head for Shun’s home Pinewood village by boat. There are some flashbacks to Shun’s house, his family, his dog and Shun as a young boy. Shun’s home was one of those houses built around a tree. But their journey is not smooth one, they come across barricades and the village has been roped off. Maria and Mamoru have found that only people from Pinewood are absent from school. Why would they all be absent on one day?

Saki and Satoru try to get into the village through the woods only to come across another barrier. They see a monster rat in the woods. They realize they’re outside a sacred barrier-a recently made one. As if something was trying to be contained. As they cross the barrier they come across more unusual things. Trees with faces on them, statues of moths and frost on the ground. They reach a massive crater. Two people are inside it as if they are digging for something. Saki asks Satoru to make a mirror to see what is down there. They see the remains of a tree in it. Saki realizes that this is where Shun’s house once was. Next, we see Saki and Satoru outside of Pinewood sitting in a children’s playground, they are waiting on Maria and Mamoru-both of who are late. They are hopeful Shun is safe at the bungalow. Satoru says to try again tomorrow. Both head home.

Saki returns to her house just in time for dinner. She is covered in mud and heads to wash up. Her parents make small talk about their day to day lives. One thing we do learn is that twenty percent of the town budget is spent on the library and that Saki’s mother works late. This continues until Saki interrupts them and asks ‘Hey, do you know what happened to Shun?’ Both of her parents are surprised and scared. Interestingly the camera focuses firstly on her parents, then on Saki and the empty chair next to her. Her mother tells her no one is meant to talk about that ‘sort of thing’. Her father tells her to say goodbye and that Shun is missing. There was a big accident in Pine wind village. Saki demands to know more but her mother soon tells her to stop. Saki thanks her parents for dinner and makes to leave. But her mother starts to cry and says, ‘Saki please I don’t want to lose another-I mean I don’t want to lose my only daughter’. There is a flashback to the scene in episode one when Saki’s mother said, ‘I don’t want to lose another one of my children’.

Saki goes to bed and realizes something she has suspected for a long time to be true. She had older siblings. Then there is a flashback of Maria and Saki talking. In this culture names are chosen for what parents hope their child will be. Saki looks up her name. It means ‘the youngest’. We get another flashback of Saki as a small child. But there is also another child in the scene. An older girl her mother calls Yoshimi. Saki jerks awake as she remembers her sister and asks herself ‘why did you disappear all of a sudden?’ Next, she hears tapping at the window and sees the silhouette of Maria.

She lets Maria in and she embraces Saki then tells her what happened. She tells Saki that Shun’s friends from Pine wind have been absent too. Maria and Mamoru were suspicious and decided to sneak into the court yard using Maria’s flying ability. Now we learn what was in those Storage drums. Three adults walk into the courtroom including Indo Sensei. From their talking Maria and Mamoru and later Saki learn that inside the drums are the Impure Cats and that the adults have no choice but to send them out before the transformation to Karmic Demon is complete. The cats are as big as lions. The adults use their powers to subdue it. As they leave Maria hears her teacher say, ‘he was so talented it is such as shame’. Maria continues ‘I heard him say it clear as day, he said Shun Ownumba’.

Once Maria leaves Saki decided to act. She puts on the necklace Shun gave her and gets dressed in warm clothes with a back pack. She flies out of her window after muttering some chants to herself. She takes a boat then and heads straight for the barrier she and Satoru came across earlier. In the rain and the dark, she creeps past it and the search lights. She is nearly discovered once but slips past in the end. She pulls up to shore after some time. But it is here she comes face to face with the black Impure cat. She drops her torch and the episode cuts to credits.

Analysis: So many things happen in this episode but what is was really doing was building what would come next. The conclusion of the foreshadowing of what would become of Shun is finally here. We finally also have confirmation that Saki had older siblings at least one sister. There was a lot of build up to this. One bit of foreshadowing that was especially good was the dinner scene. The empty chair next to Saki meaning there should have been another person there.

It is very possible that Saki had more older siblings than her sister. After all her mother says, ‘another one of my children’. This could mean two but it would be more likely than to say, ‘I don’t want to lose another child’. The series never really addresses if there were more older children but really it doesn’t need to. As you know my feelings on how death shouldn’t be overused in a story how do I feel about the death of Saki’s older sister. I like how this is done unlike the death of Reiko back in episode one. Why? Because she was never really a person Saki knew. Yoshimi most likely died when Saki was very young and Saki’s memories were most likely wiped. Instead of Yoshimi being a character who we could have been invested in we instead find out the truth as Saki does.

Instead what we feel is the presence of Yoshimi’s absence. It has been there from the start and now we have some answers for it and will be getting more. This is a much better way to handle the idea of death in story. Compare for example Shun’s arc to Reikio’s brief time in episode one. As this is my second time viewing this series I know Shun’s death is coming. During the first watching this I was dreading what was happening and desperate to know he was okay. This time I feel the impending sense of doom. I know what is coming and I don’t want it to. I want Saki and the others to save Shun. I want to see Shun clear the air with Satoru and Saki telling she loves him.

She nearly does in the last episode but she stops just short. Honestly it is just painful. That is what the death of a character should be. The only character who came close to this was Rejin and even that wasn’t as powerful as this is. But there are other things this episode does that are good other than the build-up of suspense to what comes next and characters dying. There is some release of tension as some questions are answered. The impure cats have been established as real since the first few episodes and they are under the control of the educators in the village including at least one teacher. As the end of this episode draws Saki finds herself face to face with one of these creatures. We are left wondering if she will survive this encounter. (that collar Shun gave her might come in handy).

The use of music in this episode to emphasis the character’s emotions is amazing. It adds to their pain and the feeling of creepiness in this episode. The idea of being spied on is everywhere here and makes me feel just as uncomfortable watching this as I would be with the idea of being watched. This anime has not only mastered the art of foreshadowing both also the art of creating an atmosphere. The kids also show their quick thinking in coming up with ways to make themselves seem less suspicious by doing things such as splitting up.

#from the new world #shinsekai yori #Bisexual #BI #same sex sexuality #bisexual characters #bisexual characters?#anime #anime review #fantasy #sci fi #science fiction #dystopia #dystopien #A-1 Pictures

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