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just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot · 4 years

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Soulmate September - Day 8

Day 8 - The temperature of your chest gets hotter when you are closer to your soulmate and colder when you move further away. (D&D AU)

Pairing(s): Romantic Roceit, Romantic Background Analogical

TWs: Swearing

–

“Oh I adore being made out to be the bad guy here.”

“You robbed the lair of the Dragon Witch! It’s literally your fault that we are mired in this bog of despair!”

Roman’s accusation rang loudly within the wagon as they made the long ride back to Amoresse to rest for the night. Janus rolled his serpentine eyes,

“You, dear delusional knight, are totally not the one who went and killed said Dragon Witch, thus leaving her treasure for the taking.”, the half Yuan-Ti hissed, appropriately, “Besides, you can absolutely take the moral high ground here when you stole her crown at the first opportunity.”

The pristine elven knight gasped dramatically, clutching his figurative pearls at such an accusation!

“This is an outrage-!”

“Both of you shut the fuck up or I’m driving this wagon off the nearest goddamn cliff!!”

Roman and Janus both immediately quietened down at the threat issued so casually by their wagon driver as the dhampir hissed curses under his breath. The two in the back glared at each other back and forth, avoiding looking towards the wrecked fabric of the canopy and the splintered wood. In Roman’s defense, he hadn’t known that grabbing the crown specifically would cause the Dragon Witch’s castle to fall to ruin around them. He’d realised his mistake almost immediately when he felt the dark magic radiating off of it. However, he couldn’t bring himself to admit that was the case. Especially not around Janus, the damn snake wouldn’t let him live it down.

Being careful to pick his moment, Roman hazarded a glance over at the reptilian rapscallion eyeing up his spoils; Janus was an enigmatic entity to Roman, showing such sophistication and poise while also being prone to stumbling over his words or his own two feet in the same breath. Unabashedly, he displayed selfishness unrivalled by even the most aristocratic nobility, but in a pinch, was fully able to toss aside even the most valuable of artifacts to save a life.

Roman had tried not to think about it. The noble and chivalrous knight, Roman of Sandaria, being saved from the jaws of death by a conman who, by all accounts, he had fully expected to leave him to die. The elven man wasn’t sure where his resentment lay; perhaps Roman thought he should’ve been able to save himself, perhaps he felt guilty for misjudging Janus but couldn’t find it in him to admit it, or perhaps it was an underlying prejudice from his training days. Yeah, he really didn’t want to think about it.

Instead, Roman made his way to sit up front next to the moody wagon driver, making light conversation,

“I should be the one manning the wagon, your highness.”

“Roman, I’ve told you before, you can just call me by my name.”, the dhampir met Roman with piercing silver eyes, “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t understand my- Virgil,”, he corrected at the last second, “Nothing’s wrong. Aside from the fact you refuse to allow me to call you by your title-”

“That’s horseshit and you know it, Roman.”, Virgil kept his eyes on the road, anxious over the possibility of a crash if he kept his gaze averted too long, “I’ve known you since we were kids, I can tell when you’re lying. Besides, being called ‘your highness’ feels wrong as it is. Coming from you? It’s even fucking weirder than this whole marrying into royalty thing...”

Roman rolled his eyes but sat closer to offer Virgil a one-armed hug. The latter gave it a moment before accepting the gesture, “Virgil, you’ll be fine. If any one of us was suited to princedom, I cannot think of a better candidate. And your future husband is unreasonably attractive, so I don’t see what you have to complain about-”

“Oh my god, shut UP!”, Virgil chuckled and shoved Roman playfully. “I mean, you’re not wrong but the last thing I need is to think too hard about Logan and crash this stupid fucking shambles of a wagon!”

The lighthearted banter did wonders to distract Roman until Virgil managed to get things back on track unfortunately, “Now, stop deflecting and tell me what’s got you so gloomy, Sir-Sing-A-Lot.”

Roman rolled his eyes at the old nickname, “I’m fine, Virge, really. I merely wish our cascading castle adventure had been a little less…ruinous.”

“.... Was that a fucking pun-”

“Ahem.”, Janus cleared his throat from behind the two of them, “I do so loathe to interrupt.... whatever this is,”, he gestured between the two of them, “But I believe that’s our stop up ahead. Wouldn’t want to go destroying that as well.”

With that, the serpentine rogue slunk back into the wagon. Roman muttered something under his breath, inaudible to Virgil, before reluctantly joining the scaled nuisance bagging up his wares. The elven knight made sure to keep his crown tucked into his rucksack, just in case thievery was something to be wary of in Amoresse. The town’s reputation, however, gave Roman hope that their visit would prove more helpful than hindering; the rumours told of a town renowned for helping wayward, lonely souls find their soulmates. As a single, disaster gay, Roman sure hoped the rumours were true. Truly he could think of nothing sadder than turning up alone to his best friend’s wedding.

Getting booked into their rooms at the tavern was a far easier ordeal than having to endure the overly chaotic gate guard to the city. The bizarre tiefling had spent so long rambling on and on about the most grotesque topics that by the time they had successfully secured a wagon bay, the moon now shone in all her celestial beauty. Virgil had suggested resting for the night, and despite Roman’s urging that they stay together, Janus had been insistent on checking out the nightlife. The knight had been content to let him do so while he guarded the prince, but the tired dhampir insisted he too take the night to enjoy himself. Roman would have argued further had Virgil not issued the suggestion as an order after his first protest.

And that was how Roman found himself sitting at a small outdoor bar tended by a rather friendly dwarf. Said dwarf, Patton as he came to learn, was quite the chatterbox while Roman was content to take in the night air in spite of his earlier worries.

“Say kiddo,”, the dwarf broke from his pleasant rambling, “you’re looking a little lonely there. You got something on your mind?”

Roman hadn’t expected that. He pursed his lips in thought.

“I suppose I may as well be honest with you. I’ve been wondering if-”

“If the rumours are true?”, Patton finished, “Well, luckily for you, they are!”

He ducked down behind the counter and pulled up an ornate crystal bottle that contained a marvellous prismatic liquid inside. Roman watched with great interest as the dwarf pulled out a goblet and began to mix a sweet, fruity smelling drink before dropping in three drops of the colourful elixir.

“Anima Venenum”, Patton informed him, “Our town’s alchemist created it by accident a couple of centuries back, and ever since, we offer some to tourists who look like they need a little guidance in the ol’ world of love!”

Roman was mesmerised, “Really? You mean, I needn’t pay you for it?”

“Nope! Our only rule is to never hand it out to anyone who doesn’t ask us for it. It’s up to you if you wanna accept this, so no pressure. I just figured you looked like you might be in need of it.”

The knight had so many questions swirling around in his brain, but by the time he had settled on a single one, his hand was holding the goblet to his lips. The taste was citrusy like sweet clementines, but with a mixed berry and almost floral taste that reminded him of a rose wine. As the last of it slid down his throat, Roman noted a soft honey-like taste as he thanked Patton,

“That tastes wonderful! I’ve never had an elixir that tasted so good.”

Patton chuckled, “Actually, the elixir itself is tasteless. People just take better to it when it's mixed with a good drink, otherwise the texture weirds ‘em out.”

“Ah, I see.”, Roman let out a gentle chuckle. He didn’t feel all that different, truth be told, and so he asked, “How will I know it’s working?”

“The effects are instantaneous, don’t you worry! It might be hard to notice at first, but when you’re near your soulmate, your heart will feel really warm- In a good way! Not like heartburn, so don’t worry about it feeling unpleasant.”, Patton assured him.

Roman nodded, making a note of it as he got up to leave before quickly asking, “Oh! How long will it last?”

Patton waved him off, assuring him, “It’ll last for as long as you need to find your soulmate, guaranteed!”

With the night reaching its peak, Roman found himself strolling along the cobbled streets back to the tavern when he felt it; a flicker of warmth in his heart. Soft as the beating of a butterfly’s wing but very much there. He followed the feeling until he came upon a narrow street, hardly lit by the lamps stationed at it’s opening. The street itself was largely empty bar a silhouette in the dark leaning against the stone bridge that arched over the shimmering water running beneath it.

His heart raced as Roman approached the figure, the flames licking at his heart until he arrived about a foot from the entrance of the bridge. The figure turned to Roman, smirking a familiar smirk,

“Come to join me, oh loyal guardian of our beloved prince?”

Janus. His soulmate was Janus?! Roman couldn’t believe it, yet no matter how thoroughly he scanned the immediate area, not a single other soul revealed itself. The half Yuan-Ti raised a bemused eyebrow at Roman, “Please, do keep ignoring my question so you may continue to look like a fool.”

Roman scowled. Maybe the kindly dwarf was just teasing him? No, he didn’t seem the type. But this conman? His soulmate? Perhaps Roman would indulge it, see where that led him. Worth a shot anyway.

“My apologies.”, was all Roman offered as he took a spot on the bridge next to Janus, the flames of his heart undeniably soaring to life at the close proximity. Janus gave Roman a puzzled glance which let Roman take in his features; a half scaled face and body that, the more he watched the moonlight dance along the scales, made Roman want to gently reach out and touch them. In fact, he had subconsciously been doing just that when Janus had held his wrist in place, “It’s not completely rude to just touch someone’s scales without permission. What’s gotten into that underbaked brain of yours, Roman?”

Flustered and embarrassed by his lack of tact, Roman uttered quietly, “Soulmate cocktail.”

“Pardon?”

Roman panicked, “So many cocktails. Is what I said. Like, 14 whole cocktails.”

Great. Excellent save.

“..... You’re expecting me to believe that? Did you forget that I’m rather adept at being able to tell when someone’s lying to my face, Roman?”

End him. Just end him now. Roman wished a stray lightning bolt would smite him where he stood so he wouldn’t have to face his own stupidity. Quick, say something to help ease the situation.

“Okay. I had 16 cocktails.”, he stammered with a laugh, “I’m absolutely drunk. You got me, you clever reptile you!”

Roman of Sandaria you are a certified idiot.

“.... Alright then. Prove it.”, Janus goaded him, locking onto Roman’s crimson eyes with his own citrine snake-like eyes.

“Prove-?”

“Let me smell your breath.”, Janus clarified, getting closer. Each inch set Roman’s heart aflame all too literally. “If you’re as inebriated as you claim to be, your breath will absolutely stink.”

Shit.

“Uuuh, personal space-”, Roman began to move back, but Janus grasped the front of his tunic.

“Don’t give me that, Mister Personal-Space-Is-A-Societal-Construct, I’ve seen how often you get in your dear prince’s personal space...”, Roman could’ve sworn for a split second that Janus sounded resentful, or perhaps envious, before his tone took a more curious route, “... or perhaps could there be another reason you don’t want to be so close to me?”

The knight became aware of the burning within his chest threatening to rage out of control, the distance between them barely a couple of inches now. Roman wasn’t sure what to do, but the lure of Janus’ eyes and the way his ribcage radiated with a heat he’d never felt before spurred him to act; he leant forward and pressed his lips to the serpentine man before him.

It surprised Roman just how pleasant it felt, though he prepared himself for harsh retaliation from the half Yuan-Ti when he felt Janus take in a breath against his lips. However, Roman was pleasantly surprised to find that Janus, not only didn’t issue him a well-earned slap and spend the rest of the night cussing him out, but instead kissed him back even harder. Not that Roman was complaining. By the time they pulled back for air, Roman didn’t even notice the fire in his heart subsiding to be replaced with a more natural warmth as Janus’ hands softly caressed Roman’s cheeks. “I’ll be the first to admit, I totally saw the night heading that direction.”, Janus mused in surprise.

Roman let out a hearty chuckle, hardly even noticing that he’d subconsciously wrapped his arms around Janus.

“Care to tell me what brought this on, Roman of Sandaria?”

Just hearing his name spoken in such an enticing dulcet made his knees feel weak; how had Roman never noticed how beautiful Janus’ voice was? His mind was too busy latching onto every octave, every syllable, that he nearly forgot to answer him. He took Janus’ scaled hand and pressed his lips to it in a gentle gesture his soulmate clearly wasn’t used to if the flustered way he averted his eyes was anything to go by,

“I suppose you could say I did a little soul searching.”

----

Have some straight up Roceit fluff, this came out so cute.

@tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses @lavender-mochi [I know you love your Roceit so I figured I’d tag you incase you needed this] @fandomsofrandom [I nearly missed the reblog where you asked to be added I’m so sorry]

#roceit #analogical #roman sanders #janus sanders #soulmate september #tsshipmonth2020 #virgil sanders #dnd au #my fics #fanfics #this one was fun #im just a ho for royal virgil and long suffering knight roman #also chaos tiefling remus was really funny #im sad i couldnt write more of him but there you go

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skaianet · 4 years

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so i swapped them hives (act 2) and...

huh i have some thoughts. like gameplay thoughts and some tinfoil story thoughts. spoilers below, obviously

- i loved the game, generally speaking. the grand majority of the puzzles were good and the writing had good moments and it did make me laugh/chuckle out loud a several times

- character writing was fun, except for some parts. even then im not sure if the characters were written bad or if i just got mad at the game and it made me bored of the characters

- the “parts” im speaking of is actually just one big part which you probably guessed right away. THE TRIAL. it was genuinely fucking awful. the game was great before and after it, but that single thing just dragged on way too long and was god damn obtuse (though i was playing it at...... 3 am or something. maybe not the best time for detective work but oh well. tyzias i hope your hand isnt sore from all the holding)

- everything else besides the trial was great. to give an overall rating for act 2 would be difficult due to such a wild disparity in gameplay quality.

- the other puzzles were good. i had to use the hint button only a few times outside the trial for genuine clues. the last puzzle is fresh in my mind because in the end i just kinda spammed the button to be sure i was safe to break the glass/turn the switch because i didnt want to do the whole process over after failing so many times. that was annoying but otherwise the puzzles were cool in my book.

- OBSERVATIONS: some early parts seemed disjointed, like right at the very beginning (after the explosion, in the cave and the bee farm). There were some weird excuses to cover the fact joey and xefros just somehow ended up to the cave. Also it was OBVIOUS the screens from the cave didn’t lead up to the farm properly. We’ve seen in-development animations and screenshots from Zebede and Charun in these areas previously, looking pretty complete. Also the gears at the farm windmill were very intricate, suggesting that maybe there used to be a puzzle there at some point? Also the skip to the train station from the forest was very abrupt. I feel kind of... sad? knowing weve lost some cool content probably forever for whatever reason, but the game is still good. the dev team said that if some troll call trolls are missing from the game they will appear in future acts, so its not like zebede and charun dont exist anymore, but... i wonder why they were scrapped. i mean, probably due to the absolute development hell, but at least charun was in the first steam trailer a year ago iirc. id love to know why this stuff was scrapped

-PLOT THOUGHTS 1: okay okay theres a lot im still thinking about but what im most curious about is the jeevik week. like its some kind of a festival but to what end? the tetrarchs (dammek, cridea, fiamet, xefros/chixie) were apparently planning something and i believe the jeevik week is supposed to be the culmination of those plans. in addition to the tetrarchs, i think marvus has some interest of their own in this, but its uncertain if theyre in on the same plot. he protected joey a lot, and i think it was kinda suspicious how they emphasized how marvus just “happened” to be on this train.

-PLOT THOUGHTS 2: so what happened at the end of the act. it seems likely that the first guardian axolotl thing from the concept art just blasted the train (directly hitting the rustblood car, mind this) though that thing seemed to have wings? does the axolotl have wings or is this something else? its most likely the axolotl, but there are more options... the green fire seems to hint at a green sun-powered creature either way. could there be a link to the act 1 creatures? which were black with green insides, like some kind of nega first guardian? could someone gotten their hands on ectobiology equipment and started producing first guardian-like creatures, powered by the green sun? on alternia, obviously as lusii, but as earth doesnt have them, as some kind of weird mutants? just food for thought

-PLOT THOUGHTS 3: okay, this is kind of a wild idea, but i suspect the attack at the end was intended to eliminate joey and xefros. the creature specifically targeted the lowblood car, and from one of the ending freeze-frames we see half of the wagon being obliterated probably killing everyone inside. xefros is a lowblood and joey was posing as one, so if the attack was intentionally directed whoever is behind it couldve assumed those two were in there. and if the creature was indeed the axolotl, the culprit is likely fiamet as thats likely her lusus or something (something that has been theorised from some in-development screenshots having a axolotl character as a stand-in chitter avatar for her). fiamet also knew joey and xefros were on the train. anyway if thats in any way accurate theres a chance shell be the secret final ultimate antagonist of hiveswap. but who knows

anyway thats my two cents... mean at this point, my about 30 cents on hiveswap act 2.

#hiveswap

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cinnamonsugarsheith-blog · 6 years

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(jail)Bait and Switch

Pairing: Sheith, bg onesided Allurance, bg onesided HunkShay

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Student/Teacher, Kissing, mild dirty talk and Keith’s filthy 18 year old brain, implied blowjobs, quite a bit of curse words, Keith is A Tease

Summary: Keith’s physics class gets a new student teacher. Keith has every intention of being as annoying as possible, but Oh Shit He’s Hot.

Keith fucking hates this class. He hates math. He hates fucking "I did not spend twenty years in school for you to call me Mister" Dr Slav. He hates that it's fucking first period. He hates that fucking Lance McClain sits behind him and pokes him in the back of the neck with a pencil whenever he falls asleep.

If this class wasn't literally required for him to take for the degree he needed to work at Space X he Would Not be taking it.

So when they come back from spring break and Dr Slav introduces his new student teacher he has decided he is going to at the very least have a little fun during it by annoying the shit out of them.

He damn near chokes on his own tongue when Dr Slav introduces Mister Takashi Shirogane as his new student teacher though. No one should be able to make purple argyle look that fucking good. No one. Mister Takashi "call me Mister Shiro" Shirogane had silver hair that made Keith question if he needed to change his career path to sugar baby and dark eyes that hid behind glasses and a sharp scar across his nose that made him look just a little bit dangerous and fuck if that wasn't a thousand watt smile. Ugh. Yeah. He needed to change his plans. Scratch operation annoy the shit out of the peppy student teacher. Begin operation get the student teacher to bend him over the desk. And from the looks of the rest of the class. He had competition.

Something was on his side though, because the next day Dr Slav asked him to hang back after class. "Mister Shirogane, this is the top of the class, Keith Kogane. He has a bit of a disciplinary problem. And a mouth." Keith could feel Slav glaring. " But if you're looking at my seniors for a research assistant. This is the only one worth glancing at." Shiro laughed good naturedly. "I think you have a great group of student, Dr Slav." He adjusted his glasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose. "But, it's good to meet you Keith. You must be some student to catch Slav's attention." Keith hoped he looked as effortlessly cool as he was trying to with his hands in his pockets and his gaze towards the door. "Yeah. Same." "Um, I'm looking for a research assistant to help me with my senior thesis. I'm an astrophysics major and I'm really hoping to help send the first manned mission to Kerberos... Its--" "One of Pluto's moons. Is it paid?" That seemed to catch Shiro off guard and he blushed. "N-no! But I'd be happy to give you rides to the lab at campus and meals and stuff while you're there. I uh... Yeah. The schedule is flexible, but you look like you're a flexible kinda guy and well if you're interested..." Keith had to mentally force himself not to Flip Out at the student teachers seemingly completely unintentional double entendre. He had no problem showing Shiro just how flexible he could be. He grunted. "Guess I'm interested. What are the hours." Shiro scribbled down his number on a sticky note with a quick "text me tonight, you're going to be late to English!" It wasn't until half way through English that he questioned how Shiro knew that’s what he had next.

The new english lit student teacher was here on a visa if her accent was anything to go by. He thought about annoying her since Shiro had been a busy, but Lance wouldn't stop hitting on her. He pitied the heck out of her for that. Thank God his next class was not with Lance. "Heard you new student teacher is hot," Pidge stated without pretense. "Yeah, Lance says he looks like a nerdy Adonis." Keith shrugged, and passed Pidge a white powder to mix into their solution. "I guess." "And then slav asked you to hang back." Pidge wriggled her eyebrows at him. "What's up with that?" Keith smirked, hand reaching into his pocket for the sticky with Shiro's number. "Wouldn’t you like to know.

He texts Shiro an "its Keith from Slavs class" that night and falls asleep thinking about Shiro's strong hands pinning him to the chalkboard and asking him why his homework is late. When he wakes up he has a text "Hey Keith, Hope We can meet up soon to discuss specific hours. I'd love to give you a tour of the lab and observatory! --Shiro" What kind of dork signed their texts? He'd see him in class today. No point in texting back now. He scrounged through the closet for the jeans that were both the least dirty but also the tightest, a black pair, and grabbed the first shirt he found. He'd wear his jacket all day anyways. When he pulled into the school he was early and he strategically hung out on his motorcycle near the teachers lot until he saw Shiro get out of the noisiest station wagon the school had ever seen. He was shocked the thing was still running. Time to make his entrance.

Keith ran full force into his student teacher. And then proceeded to cuss as said student teachers nose started bleeding where he’d for all intents and purposes headbutted him. “Shit, Mr Shiro!” He was helping pull the man up and pressing the sleeve of his hoodie to his nose before the older man could stop him. “You okay?” He straightened the man’s bangs as he continued to press the cotton of his hoodie to his face. “Maybe we should go to the nurses office?” Shiro looked defeated, clearly not wanting to talk with his students hand pinching his nose shut. “’s go to the nurse.” Shay helped Keith slip off his black hoodie and continued to keep the pressure on Shiro’s nose. “You’re lucky Keith here knows a decent amount about first aid.” She smiled. “He’s gotten his fair share of bloody noses.” Keith snorted. “I give more than I get.” “Well I can see that.” The secretary ruffled his hair. “Now what happened here? I really hope you’re not picking fights with teachers.” “It was an accident, just ran into each other in the parking lot not paying attention.” Shiro nodded in agreement, slowly releasing the pressure on his nose to see if the bleeding had stopped. “Keith, I’ve got to go field attendance calls. You take good care of Mister Shirogane.” With that Shay slipped out of the room. “I think it’s stopped,” Shiro said hesitantly. “I’m sorry.” “It’s okay. It was an accident.” It wasn’t. But they were in the basically closet that served as a nurses office and he was close enough to see the creases next to Shiro’s eyes when he smiled and he couldn’t feel even a little bit bad. “Yeah–” Keith wetted some paper towels in the small sink and passed them to Shiro “– but I should’ve been more careful.” Shiro shrugged, and then gave a small smile as he wiped at his face and hands. “I mean if you really want to make it up to me, you can always take me up on that assistant position.” Keith took another step into the man’s space and held his hand out for the red tinged paper towel he was holding. Shiro handed it to him. He put two fingers under Shiro’s chin and tilted it up. He licked his bottom lip and dabbed the damp towel under Shiro’s nose again, gently, and then across his bottom lip. "Missed a spot.” He smiled. Shiro flushed the most brilliant red and gaped. Keith stepped back easy, tossing the bloody towels into the trash can under the sink. “And I think I’d like to see that lab, Mister Shiro.” Keith skipped first period and spent it hiding on the roof with Ezor, who was doing an art independent study and had her corner litteredp with paints and bright stained puddles where chalk pastels had been left in the rain and a smattering of scarf scraps that had been hacked up for their fringes. He couldn’t pretend to be cool in front of Shiro any more today than he had. Maybe skipping class would make think Shiro think he was mysterious or something though. Fuck it. “Ugh I wish the models Mr Iverson used in class had your bone structure. "M not modeling Ezor, I’m ditching. "Well you’re sitting perfectly still in my space, so I think that makes you my model.” She winked. He grunted and made an effort to move every thirty seconds after that. By the time lunch rolled around Lance still hadn’t seen him that day and was shocked when he plopped down next to Pidge and started shoving fries into his mouth. “Dude where were you this morning? Mr Shiro said he needed to give back your hoodie. You left it with him this morning?” Hunk choked on his milk and Pidge gave him the most conspiratorial of grins. “Yeah, so? Didn’t feel like listening to the Slave driver. Sorry.” “Are you…?” He waved his hands vaguely in the direction of the building where their physics classroom was. “Waving my hands?” Lance glared and lowered his voice. “Are you sleeping with the student teacher?” “Not your business, Lance.” Lance looked like his head was going to explode. “I’m gonna have to ditch game night, by the way, guys,” he changed topics, sort of. “Shiro has something to show me at campus.” He was definitely going to give Lance an aneurysm. “Okay. Suit yourself. We were gonna plan Monsters and Mana. Matt even volunteered to be the Dungeon Keeper.” Pidge got up to bus her tray. “Damn.” Keith did love M&M… But hot TA and fodder to hang over Lance’s head. “I’ll have to catch it next week.” He waited until most of the students had left the school to move his bike to the teachers lot next to Shiro’s car. He debated the pros and cons of positioning himself leaning against the hood of the car or straddling his bike when Shiro came out and opted for the bike. When Shiro stepped out of the school he caught Shiro’s swallow even as far away as he was. Keith grinned to himself and pocketed his phone. “Follow you?” “Yeah, it’s not too far.” Keith pulled his helmet on and waited for Shiro to get into his car before revving his engine just slightly more than he maybe necessarily needed to. It was indeed not too far. He was pretty sure this was the school Pidge’s brother went too. They parked in a garage and Shiro let him stash his helmet in his back seat while they toured the lab. Shiro talked animatedly about rocket ships most of the walk to the building and he promised he would wash his hoodie and get it back to him tomorrow. Keith shrugged.

"So you'd have to be in the lab at the same time as me since you're not a student but I'm usually here by myself unless Dr Holt comes in on the weekends--" "As in Sam?" Keith cut him off "Uh... Yeah. Samuel Holt." "Sorry, I'm just. His daughter is one of my best friends." "Oh yeah! Katie’s a sophomore now, right? And at your school too." "She goes by Pidge now, but yeah." Shiro laughed. "She used to hate when Matt called her that." Well. There went all his grand plans for trying to be the The Cool Guy. As soon as he talked to the Holts, that was going to be out the window. Shit. Might as well do what he could while he could then.

He perched on the side of Shiro's L desk kitty corner an ancient desktop as he pulled up data spreadsheet after data spreadsheet. "What--" he leaned forward, bracing one arm on the back of Shiro's chair and letting his breath ghost over the side of Shiro's neck and ear "--does this spike here mean?" He pointed out a blip in the data on the screen. He could see Shiro's shoulder tense under his thin sweater. "Um, it's a fraunhofer line from an element suspected to come from Kerberos." He leaned in a little closer. "Doesn't look like one I've ever seen." Shiro swallowed and turned his head to look at Keith. "No. No, it doesn't. Is this. Um are... Am I reading into this?" His face was positively red. Keith tilted his head just enough to question and seized this perfectly presented moment. "No, Mister Shirogane, I'm really interested in accepting this position under you..." There was only a few inches between their faces and Keith wanted nothing more to kiss this adorable man, but it was too soon. He sat up, never breaking the eye contact he had with Shiro, and slid off the desk. "What hours are you wanting me here?"

His student teacher couldn't look him in the eyes the rest of the week. His hoodie was folded neatly on his desk Friday morning, smelling of detergent and Shiro. He was probably making up that last part because he was crushing like a thirteen year-old girl. But fuck it.

His friends teased him about this as he burrowed his nose into it for the tenth time during lunch. He begrudgingly called Lance for help that night. "Black or blue jeans?" "Uh...." "Lance just tell me which one makes my ass look better. I know you know." Keith could practically see Lance putting the pieces together in his head. "Why~?" "Just tell me." "You're going to go see Mr Shiro, aren't you~?" Lance sing-songed into the phone. "Lance." Keith warned. Lance laughed. "Nah man, if this works, there's hope for me and Allura. Blue jeans. The dark ones. They bring out your eyes. And wear that baseball tee you think makes you look girly. The red one. Don't wear your bike boots. Sneakers. You've been doing that bad boy thing and it's dumb." "Have not." He hope Lance couldn't hear him pouting. "Have too. Mr Shiro is a nerd. Bad boy will catch his attention, but it won't keep it." Okay so maybe Lance had a point. "Thanks." "No problem! Let me know how it goes tomorrow!"

Keith bused to campus bright and early the next morning and could have kissed Shiro when he pressed a large iced coffee into his hands. Shiro laughed as he sucked down half the drink in five minutes. "I know, but it's best we get as much done in training as we can before Matt gets here and tries to tell you how to use a 'flux capacitor.'" Keith nodded and leaned against the wall of the elevator. "I think this is the first time I've seen you without your bike jacket. Didn't ride today?" "Too tired." "I'll give you a ride home when we are done here then." It wasn't a question, so he didn't respond, but he tried not to think too hard about how Shiro had noticed that he wasn't wearing his jacketo They ended up at a diner off campus and Keith was mildly less attracted to Shiro watching him try and fail to fit a burger covered in mac and cheese into his mouth without making a mess.

However this gave him the opportunity to reach out and wipe cheese sauce off off Shiro's cheek with his thumb and the bunny in headlights look he got in response was so worth how disgusting he thought it was to lick it off his thumb. "What?" He asked when Shiro put his flushed face into his hands. "That was um..." "It's not my fault you're a messy eater." Keith did his best impression of Shiro's thousand watt smile. Shiro just nodded, then squeaked when he felt Keith's sneakered foot rest gently on his knee under the table. "So how do you like student teaching?" "Uh, it's good. Overall I mean. Everyone has been really great. Slav’s difficult, but..." Shiro shrugged. "And the students?" "Oh, um. You guys are a good class?" He offered weakly. Keith grinned. "Nah, I skip once a week and Lance is an ass. And I'm pretty sure half the girls have given you love letters by now." Shiro squirmed in his seat. "Well I'm not..." "Straight?" "How...?" "Straight men do not wear argyle, Mr. Shiro." "Um... You can just call me Shiro. When we aren't at school. All my friends do." "Are we friends?" Keith didn't bother to hide his smirk. "I'd like us to be.... Friends" Shiro said thickly. "Yeah?" Keith let his foot fall --dragged it-- down the inside of Shiro's calf. "Is this something..?" "I mean I'd say an assistant is more of a working relationship, but if you wanna be friends we maybe do something fun sometime." Smooth, Keith, so smooth. "Ah, I guess you're right... Maybe a movie? Or the arcade? What do people do to socialize these days?" Keith smiled. "Too much time in your books?" "You have no idea."

When Shiro pulled up to his house to drop him off he wasn't quite sure what to do. A hug seemed too forward, but nothing weird too? "See you Monday, right?" Shiro asked. "Yeah. Monday." He nodded. He hesitated for a moment, but reached for the door handle, opting to not push his luck any further than he already had. He stretched as he got out, feeling his shirt lift a bit and smiled to himself where Shiro couldn't see him when he made a noise in his throat. He'd have to make it a point to wear this shirt more often. He almost had the door shut when Shiro blurted out his name. "Mmm?" He hummed and reopened the door. "Do you uh... Maybe want to catch a movie tomorrow?" "I think I'd like that a lot," he paused, "Takashi...." And gave Shiro what he really hoped was a sweet smile. Pidge would probably tell him he looked constipated. Definitely the most red he'd ever seen Shiro's face. Noted. "Co-ol," his voice caught half way through the word. "Text me?" "Sure thing." This time he shut the door and walked into the house before Shiro could respond. He was going to have his own personal flailing freak out and he needed the door between them when that happened.

Keith text Lance to tell him it went well and put his phone in his desk drawer to avoid texting Shiro too soon. When he did text Shiro, an hour later, it was with a short "you have anything you want to see tomorrow?" Fantasy Shiro in his head responded "You, baby, in my sheets." Real Shiro text back "there's a new horror movie out that looks pretty intense, but there's a sci-fi one that Matt says is really good too" Keith looked at the movie at their tiny local theater and could not find any horror movies. What the heck. "Horror sounds good, I can pick you up on my bike if you're not scared of riding." Also because Shiro's thighs around his hips. Keith groaned at the thought. Hell yeah. Shiro sent back an excited smiley and a "3:30 or 6?" Shiros thighs around his hips and his arms tight around him in the cool spring evening. 6:00pm. DEFINITELY 6:00pm.

He arrived at 5:30 on the dot the next evening, back in his usual leather riding gear, hair tied up in a ponytail. He handed Shiro a helmet and let him get situated before warning him he was going to want to hang on, smirk entirely devious. He was a speed demon without the desire to get Shiro to curl around him as he took sharp turns and whipped through yellow lights. Shiro was a surprisingly good sport about it whooping excitedly and shifting his body smoothly behind Keith. Having Shiro pressed against him felt as good as expected and he may have done a few unnecessary turns in the parking lot just to enjoy it an extra moment. Keith bought the tickets despite Shiro insisting that he had been the one to invite Keith. "You can get popcorn." "We are getting popcorn? What do you think I am, made of money?" Shiro tease, poking him in the ribs. Keith swatted his prosthetic hand away with a yelp. "Well I was kidding, but clearly not, since my assistantship isn't paid." Keith pouted "Hey, I offered to pay for the tickets!!" Shiro put a hand on his lower back and guided him towards the concession lines. Keith leaned into it, and practically melted when he didn't move his hand as they came to a stop at the back of the line. "Soda?" Shiro asked when they were up next. "Coke. I'm not an animal." Keith replied without hesitation. "God, you're perfect. Matt always makes us get diet fanta. I didn't know there was diet fanta." Shiro gave a shiver. Keith laughed. "Yeah, that's Pidge's favorite too. Nasty." They collected their things and Keith strategically lead them to a set of seats that already had the middle armrest raised so he wouldn't have to try to be sneaky about it. They sat shoulder to shoulder with the popcorn on Shiro's lap and the soda balanced between Keith's thighs. Shiro knew a shocking amount of movie preview trivia, which he blamed on Matt. And Keith insisted that he was unfit to teach physics because he liked Star Wars better than Star Trek.

It was not nearly as thick as he had been laying it on, which, he would later decide after a four way call that lasted the better part of two hours, was probably good. This was fun and easy and even though less direct "Takashi" was still blushing and smiling an awful lot. He did set his hand on Shiro's thigh about halfway through the movie though. And to his credit Shiro only tensed for a second before realizing Keith wasn't going to do anything else, and relaxing. The "horror movie" was actually a thriller with ghosts. It was not scary, but Shiro startled repeatedly, and Keith could feel him twitching every time a character did Something Very Stupid onscreen. Keith shifted and leaned over to whisper in Shiro's ear, "Ya know, he looks kind of like Slav... And the blonde guy looks like Mr Iverson with hair." Shiro snickered and turned to whisper back, "You're totally right!”

Keith leaned into Shiro's shoulder a little more after that. When it was over it was completely dark outside. "You want to grab food or...?" Keith let the question hang, holding the extra helmet out to Shiro again. "Sure, there's a Waffle House a few streets over?" Keith hummed and lifted his leg over his bike. "And I will pay!" Shiro readily settles his hands on Keith's hips when he situated himself again. And his brain was telling him how easily those hands.... Ugh. Why did he think riding his bike was a good idea again?! But then Shiro's legs settled along side his and he remembered exactly why. He just had not very thoroughly thought out the nuances of this decision.

Thankfully it was a short ride to the Waffle House, but it was bittersweet. He had to turn things back up juuuuust a little when the waitress told them they were just the cutest couple. "Yeah, Takashi is gorgeous. I'm a lucky guy." Shiro fumbled, clearly wanting to play along, but missing the beat as she asked for their drink order. "It's uh... I'm sorry." Shiro fiddled with his placemat. "For what?" Keith raised an eyebrow. "That she thinks we are a couple." Keith shrugged, trying to figure out how to best play that. "I don't mind. I meant that... You're gorgeous. And smart to boot? You're a hell of a catch." He winked. "Like you're not." And there was the hand over his mouth. "Takashi, are you flirting with me?" Well that sulky glare was probably deserved.

"Are you?" He pushed. "Are you?" Shiro hedged back. "You're too smart to have any doubt that I'm not." Shiro let out a huge sigh. "Oh thank fuck. I thought I was being a creepy pervert." Keith laughed aloud at that.

"I'm 18. No harm, right?" He gave Shiro a lopsided grin. "I know. Your birthday is on the class roster." Shiro sighed. "If you weren't 18, I wouldn't have asked you to be my research assistant. Matt can get a little... Weird.... Sometimes. " "Yeah he gets it from his sister." "Wouldn't it be the other way around?" "Absolutely not." "So um...." Shiro started after the waitress interrupted to take their orders. "I know you're 18, and it's not for lack of... Ah... Attraction. " He cleared his throat. "But I think it may be best to wait until after you graduate to uh... Start anything." Keith raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Think you can keep your hands off me for that long?" "No, but I'm going to try." Shiro sulked.

"Challenge accepted." Keith grinned wolfishly and took a drink for his water Shiro groaned. "You're gonna kill me.” Keith tongued at his straw between his teeth, still grinning. "Only if you don't fuck me." "KEITH!" He laughed again. "What?"

Keith drove Shiro back to the apartment where he apparently lived with the Lit student teacher, Allura, and leaned back against him, dreading the moment Shiro would uncurl from around him and get off the bike. They took their helmets off and Shiro twirled his short pony tail, humming thoughtfully. "I had a lot of fun tonight." "I did too..." He tilted his head up a bit and Shiro made a noise of protest before he pressed a firm kiss to Keith's cheek. "See you tomorrow?" "Yeah..." Shiro watched as Keith secured the spare helmet. "See that star up there?" Shiro nuzzled his neck, a little hesitant. "Between the far one on this constellation here..." He took Keith's hand and pointed. "And this real dull one here?" "Yeah?' "That one's ours, baby..." Keith blushed and sunk back against the solid mass behind him. "It should be about... There" he took Keith's hand to another point in the sky. "When you graduate." Keith nodded, understanding. Shiro pressed a kiss beneath his ear. "That's when I bend you over Slav's desk and fuck you until you forget everything but my name." "Oh fuck." Keith felt like the wind got knocked out of him as Shiro got off the bike. "What?" Shiro winked and grinned, looking at him over his glasses. "You started it." Keith swore the entire way home.

And that is how the next two months went, they would whisper salacious something's into each other's ears and press kisses along jaw lines and go home and pant the others name until they were an utter wreck, but Shiro kept fast on his promise of not until Keith graduated. And Keith was doing his best to break him. Prom night was close. Matt had bought Pidge a shitty handle of vodka and she had split it between the four of them before forcing her brother to drive them to the dance. They were all sloshed and he absolutely stole his chance to ask Shiro to dance with him. Shiro twirled him around, innocently enough, while Allura led Lance with a hand on his waist and Hunk roped Pidge into some semblance of sober slow dancing, staring longingly at secretary-slash-nurse Ms Shay. Shiro leaned close, and his hand tensed over the thin sweater covering Shiro's muscles. "Exams are next week. Have you thought about what you want if you get an A?" His lips just closed the barest bit over the edge of Keith's ear lobe and he about died in Thace's borrowed suit. "Shit. Whatever you're willing to give me." Shiro chuckled. "Now where's that cool, in control Keith I met the first week of class?" "You've fuckin ruined him," Keith huffed. "Tell me, baby." Shiro spun him and pulled him close. God, this man. "Want you to--" "My turn!" "Pidge, we are--" "Shhhhhhhhhhh. Best friend privileges. I have to protect your honor. Go dance with Hunk. Help him impress Miss Shay. He's trying. But it sucks." "Hi, Katie," Shiro greeted evenly. "If you hurt him, I will ruin your fucking life. Takashi Shirogane. Born 2/29/2031 to Mira and Kunikazu Shirogane in Osaka Japan. Immigrated to America in 2035. Dropped out of Galaxy Garrison's pilot program due to a suspicious training accident and relegated to Altea Tech's Astrophysics undergrad." "You've done you research?" "My brothers labmate or not. Keith is special." "I know, Katie. I mean to do right by him. I swear." She nodded and settled her head on top of his chest for the remainder of the song. "I'm gonna hold you to that...." Shiro held his pinky up. "I swear, Katie." She nodded and linked her pinky. "I trust you."

They left Shiro's station wagon in the teachers lot and Keith drove Shiro back to his house just off campus on his bike. "You uh... Want to come in?" Keith got off without question. "So uh... Katie....?" Shiro started, cracking open a beer and passing it to Keith. It was prom night. Fuck it. Keith groaned and took a long drag. "What did she do?" "More or less? She is going to fuck me up if I hurt you...?" Keith nodded sagely, staring into the distance. "Holts scare the shit out of me." Shiro lifted his beer and they clinked in a cheers. "Shiro....?" "Yeah?" "I don't want to be cliche as hell... But... Could you. At least kiss me tonight? I mean… for real?" Shiro wasn't half a step away before he finished the question. "Thought you would never ask." Shiro sealed their lips together, trying in all his pent up frustration to not push too much, and hoping the last two months of WANT came through.. And it did, Keith was practically melting with Shiro's hand cupping his neck and his prosthetic tight around his waist.

Shiro pulled away heavily. "You have me so fucked up..." "Huh?" Keith wanted back. Shiro snorted and spoke against Keith's plush lips. "'m torn between wanting our first time to be slow and loving, on my bed 'pstairs... Show you how beautiful you are to me... And fucking you stupid over that fucking morons desk. For spite." Keith groaned and dropped to his knees in an instant. "Let me show you instead?"

Shiro couldn't look Keith in the eye during class after that and Keith took joy in asking a ridiculous amount of questions during prep for the AP exams. He passed with a 4. Probably because Slav was insane and force them to know exceptions to the exceptions. Thace and Ulaz threw a modest graduation part for him, and he was glad for the year to fucking FINALLY BE OVER WITH.

Shiro took him on an official proper date. Where he drove. To a restaurant with cloth napkins. And then to a bar with a band. Shiro twirled him around the dance floor again. Except neither of them wore an an uncomfortable suit and he could definitely roll his hips against Shiro's without another chaperone flipping their shit. Shiro nips at his earlobe when he does that. He did it again. Smirked when Shiro's thumbs dig into his hips to pull him closer. "You are the worst." "You're not my student teacher." Shiro growled against the column of his throat. "You're right, Baby. I'm not."

#sheith #sheith au #sheith parade #voltron au #vld au #vld sheith #studentteacher fic

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surveys-at-your-service · 6 years

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Survey #111

You know you’re from North Carolina when...

- You either have the lighthouse or the plane on your driver's license (nobody gets the seal). (don't have my license *shrug emoticon*) - You roll your eyes and correct people that pronounce it "App-a-LAY-shun" instead of "App-a-LATCH-un." - You have probably been to the Biltmore Estate (AKA America's only castle) before on a school field trip. - If there is even a CHANCE of snow school will be cancelled for a week, the grocery store will be out of milk and bread, and everyone will be afraid to drive. (THIS IS SOOO FUCKING TRUE) - You either like light blue or dark blue, not both. - Some of your family members probably make/sell real moonshine and it's WAY better than that knock-off crap they sell in gas stations now. (I know someone who does, though.) - Cook Out is life. - You have waited in line in your car for two or three hours just to see a street of Christmas lights in McAdenville (AKA Christmastown, USA). - In elementary school you heard the phrases "Duke is puke! Wake is fake! But NC State is the one we hate!" and "You can't get to heaven in a red canoe 'cause God's favorite color is CAROLINA BLUE!" thanks to your obnoxious UNC-loving classmates. - Billy Graham is a state-wide hero and you've probably been to his beautiful library. - You often wonder why Charlotte isn't the capital instead of Raleigh. - Two of God's greatest gifts were invented in North Carolina: Cheerwine and Krispy Kreme Doughnuts. (I've never had Cheerwine) - NASCAR is a big deal. (Not to me, but to literally almost everyone else, yeah.) - In school there was importance placed on the Lost Colony, Blackbeard, and tobacco. - It doesn't matter what time of year you go swimming in the mountains, the river water is always freezing. - You've been to Sliding Rock before. - "Wagon Wheel" (by Old Crow Medicine Show) is a very important song to you and you knew it way before Darius Rucker covered it. - Occasionally, you have to worry about a hurricane destroying your town. (We get hurricanes every couple years I'd say, but the bad ones usually curve back into the ocean.) - Bojangles is the best way to cure a hangover. (You haven't fuckin' lived until you go to Bojo's, but it's not gonna cure a hangover.) - We love going "all the way," AKA chili, slaw, onions, and mustard on our hotdogs. (Again, not me, but pretty much everyone else.) - You brag about all the amazing movies filmed here, including "The Last of the Mohicans," "Dirty Dancing," "The Hunger Games," "A Walk to Remember," "Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby," and "The Color Purple." - And also the popular TV shows filmed in North Carolina, including "One Tree Hill," "Homeland," "Under the Dome," "Sleepy Hollow" and "Dawson's Creek." - You rep 23 because the greatest basketball player of all time is also from here: Michael Jordan. - There are two kinds of barbecue: Eastern-style and Lexington-style, and you probably have a preference. Either way, North Carolina has the best barbecue in the country. - And barbecue is a NOUN, not a verb. - We have some of the best breweries in the country, also. - The ACC tournament is an extremely important time of the year where families and friendships will be torn apart. - Many people think North Carolina is super conservative, until they make their way to Asheville. (Uh, no. The entire state is conservative.) - There's nothing more relaxing than driving along the Blue Ridge Parkway in the fall. - You've definitely been to Carowinds and then realized it's not that great. - Every hour is happy hour to you, because North Carolina legally cannot have an official happy hour! - You can always see a lovely dogwood tree blooming in the spring. (Never, ever, do you want to smell one.) - You will fight anyone who says Ohio was first in flight. - If you need to buy furniture, there are only two places to go: Hickory or High Point. - You know the North Carolina mountains are the best and only place to get a Christmas tree. - You know the struggle of waiting to get your after 9's when you first get your driver's license. (It's the same for a permit.) - Even though we're on the coast, most people go to the beach in South Carolina. - You think the Rocky Mountains are great, but the Blue Ridge Mountains are home. - Tracking red clay into your house is normal. - You had to memorize the names of all the North Carolina lighthouses in 4th grade. - You either conquered the swinging mile-high bridge on Grandfather Mountain, or turned around halfway in fear. - There's a certain time of summer when it's too hot to even go swimming because the pool water feels like bathwater. - People from other states get confused when you say you're going to Beech and grab your skiing gear. (Lmao what.) - You know our state motto "esse quam videri" (meaning "to be, rather than to seem") is an appropriate representation of our great state. (Well that's a load of shit.) - You have strong feelings about barbeque. (Yeah, in the sense that I hate it.) - Somehow our favorite team always come down to some last-minute victory or loss. Ensue floods of tears. - On a Florida vacation at least three people have asked you where you're from. (My grandma lives in Florida.) - You LIKE tobacco, as in, the gorgeous tobacco fields and the rich heritage it has in our state. - You've partied in a field. (We were what, 13, so it wasn't exactly a "party," but we played out there, if that counts?) - It's not Christmas unless you watch the Andy Griffith Christmas Episode - It doesn't feel like fall unless you visit the State Fair. - Summer vacations meant one thing, ferry rides to the Outer Banks. (Again, to other people. OBX is huge here.) - You've bought watermelons, peaches, and vegetables off the side of the road. (I don't trust that shit.) - You have mixed feelings about Myrtle Beach. - You've attended a pig pickin'. (And they're fucking gross.) - Your accent and dialect varies depending on which part of the state you grew up in. - You've never met ANY celebrities. - You measure distance in minutes. (Literally everyone here does.) - Down South to you means South Carolina. (It can.) - You know Pepsi originated in New Bern, Cheerwine in Salisbury, and that Mountain Dew was invented in Fayetteville. (I knew they were all invented here, but not where specifically.) - You know Coke tastes better in the little bottles and that peanuts make coke taste even better. (Don't like peanuts) - Your folks have taken trips to the mountains to look at leaves. - Your school took a field trip to the State Fair in Raleigh. - You watched as Dale Earnhardt was the only man who ever lived who could go 200 mph, spin somebody out, flip them the bird, call them a you-know-what, and win the race all in the last lap. - You skipped school to go to Dale Earnhardt's memorial service. - You know a bunch of people who have hit a deer. (Like everyone lmao) - You know a few that have also hit a bear. - You remember watching the ACC Tournament on television at school. - The local newspaper covers state, national, and international headlines in one page, but sports require six pages. - Most men in town consider the first day of deer season a national holiday. - Fifty degrees Fahrenheit is "a little chilly" (To other people; that's like perfect for me.) - You have no problem spelling or pronouncing "Conetoe" or "Top Sail" (I've been to Conetoe once and it blew my mind how it was pronounced lol. I didn't know Top Sail had a weird pronunciation...?) - Your school classes were canceled because of cold. - Your school classes were canceled because of heat. - Your idea of a traffic jam is ten cars waiting to pass a tractor on the highway. (Happens rarely.) - You know tea is served sweet unless you specifically asked for unsweetened. - You've ever had to switch from "Heat" to "A/C" in the same day. - You end your sentences with a preposition, for example, "Where's my coat at?" "What's that made out of?" (Doesn't... everyone sometimes...?) - All the festivals around the state are named after a fruit, vegetable, or tobacco. - You know the difference between a deer dog, a bear dog and a coon dog by the way they bark. - Your four seasons are almost summer, summer, still summer, and highway construction. (PRETTY FUCKING MUCH.) - You think the four major food groups are beef, pork, beer, and Jello salad with marshmallows. - Schools and churches hold barbecue fundraisers with banana pudding as the dessert. - Your folks would rather eat at Bojangles's than McDonald's. - You know what "cow tipping" is. - You say, “it don’t” instead of “it doesn’t." - You sometimes eat country ham, grits and eggs for supper. - “Onced” and “twiced” are words. - You know how much a "mess" of anything is. - You say "tater" instead of "potato" - You say "skeeter" instead of "mosquito" - You say "possum" instead of "opossum" - You say "coon" instead of "raccoon" - You know that "barbeque" means cooking pork on an open pit and a "cook out" is grilling hamburgers and hotdogs. - You know that "pop" is a sound, and "soda" is used for baking. - Everything tastes better when served in a mason jar. - You'll never hear anything more passive-aggressive than "bless your heart!" - Everyone knows someone who's in the military. - Everyone seriously loves the North Carolina Zoo. - People have to ask, "Is there alcohol in this?" - You loooove Sun Drop. - You know to NEVER go to the Crabtree Valley Mall on the weekend. (Never, ever, do it.)

#quiz #survey #questions #you know you're from north carolina when

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cooperjones2020 · 7 years

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What’s Past is Prologue, What to Come, pt. 6

Summary: He wanted to hit whoever made Betty cry. He wanted to hit Betty so she’d keep crying. Interrelated vignettes from Jughead Jones’s obsession with Betty Cooper. Dark!Jug, Creepy!Jug, Stalker!Jug, generally Sociopathic!Jug.

A/N: Complete :) There’ll be one more one-shot to tie-off the series posted on Friday. But it will be more along the lines of Marked than of this fic. Prepare yourselves, because Dark!Betty comes out to play.

TW: implied violence (for this chapter specifically, check the other tags on ao3)

(parts one / two / three / four / five)

ao3—> http://archiveofourown.org/works/11394858/chapters/26675151

Every town has one. The house on the haunted hill all the kids avoid. Now that Jason was buried in the earth, it would only be a matter of time until something poisonous bloomed in that long, cold shadow cast by his death. Whatever grew in the rich black soil of the Blossoms’ garden always found its way to the town. Whether it was murder or love or secrets or lies.

He loved the murder board. He loved that Betty had touched every single piece of it. Earlier, when he was in the Blue and Gold office alone, he had run his fingers over every photograph, every scrap of paper, every tangled strand of red string, willing his fingertips to absorb the oils from her skin.

After the memorial, after Betty cornered her father about his conversation with Clifford Blossom, they returned to the office to regroup. He leaned back against a desk and watched her a few feet away from him as she grappled with the splintered fragments of her family.

“Juggie, I feel like I don’t even know who my mom and dad are anymore.”

“Betty,” he stood and moved toward the murder board. “If your parents lied about Jason and Polly, there’s probably more that they lied about.” He turned back to look at her.

“What do you mean?” She moved to follow him. He’d dealt with Trev, but now he wanted something from her. Some sign that they were in this together.

“Your dad said he would do anything to protect Polly. So the next logical question is, how far would he go to protect her?” He turned to the table in front of the board and grabbed an index card.

“Jughead, whoever broke into Sheriff Keller’s house and stole all his evidence wasn’t at the drive-in.” She looked at him with her big green eyes shining. He could imagine the look of the tears he knew she was holding back. “My dad wasn’t at the drive-in.” He handed her the index card and watched to see what she would do. With just a moment of hesitation, she pinned it right smack dab in the center, below Jason’s yearbook picture. God, he was proud of her. He pushed her over that barrier and she let him. He wanted to scoop her up in a hug and to devour her.

Instead, he said, “We need to talk to Polly.” Betty took a deep breath and gave him a wobbly nod. His heart slowed and beat thickly, as if submerged in maple syrup, as he watched her. The string between her and her parents was pulled taut. It would be easy to snip. It would be one more string he could hoard for himself.

On the first night he spent in the janitor’s closet at school, after the drive-in closed, the third thing he did was seek out Betty’s locker. He’d stolen a set of maintenance keys a few weeks ago and had a copy to the school’s front doors made, just in case. The drive-in had a cot, but it didn’t have a shower. And they’d stopped running water to the bathrooms at the campground when it had closed for the season on the first of September.

So the first thing he did was take a shower. The second thing he did was break into the cafeteria kitchen and scrounge up some dinner. Then he headed down the hallway with the science classrooms.

She’d had the same combination since sixth grade: Polly’s birthday. He rummaged through her locker for anything new, anything that could add to the store of Betty Cooper trivia he kept locked inside him.

He already knew about the Neosporin in the pink pencil box on the top shelf. But when he opened it, the tube was almost empty. It might have been that way for a while. There’s no way she’d used that much this early into the school year—she probably brought an old half-used tube from home anyway. But still. He wanted to slice the scars off her palms.

He replaced the pencil box and reached for the stack of notes besides it. He unfolded their intricate shapes and pressed them flat before scanning each one. All from Veronica and Kevin. All useless.

“No one cares you can’t get dick, Kev,” he whispered under his breath as he struggled to re-fold the notes.

Then, he reached over her school books and slid his hand down the back wall of the locker to see if anything had fallen. But rather than the detritus of further notes and to-do lists he expected, he found two slim books. One, the worn copy of The Story of O he’d caught her reading a few weeks ago. He hadn’t believed the story she fed Cheryl about writing an exposé on book banning. So he pocketed it to look at later, in the luxury of his closet. The other, the small pink book he recognized as her diary. Jackpot.

It was only about a two-thirds full but the last entry seemed to be from a few days before — a description of her showdown with Archie outside Pop’s. Odd. She normally wrote in it every day. He flipped back to the first entry, the day she arrived in LA, and began to scan, until his own name grabbed his attention.

I finally got Jug to talk to me. He’s been avoiding me since I got back. I don’t know what happened with him and Arch over the summer — though it seems to be better now — but he better get it through his thick skull that Archie has no business in our relationship. Whatever Archie did to him doesn’t affect him and me. He looks skinnier. Last night at Pop’s, I convinced him I was full so he’d eat the rest of my fries. I wonder if he’d be offended if I offered to pack him a lunch. A lump formed in his throat that he didn’t understand. But when he turned the page, the rest of the entry devolved into a description of cheerleading routines.

A few pages later something else caught his eye:

I think some of my clothes have gone missing. If Polly were here, I’d swear she’d stolen them, but she’s not so that can’t be it.

Sometime around early September, mentions of Archie, and especially her feelings for Archie, had dropped off sharply. Simultaneously, her mentions of him had grown. He tried not to read anything into it. It was probably just because of the paper. He was around her more so of course she would think about him more. Write about him more.

But then,

Dear Diary,

It happened again. I’m losing time. I remember talking to Chuck at Pop’s and making the plan with Veronica and Ethel. But I don’t remember showing up at Ethel’s house. I don’t remember calling him Jason. And I don’t know where I got the black wig.

This hasn’t happened since I was in LA. I had hoped it was some freaky coincidence brought on by not enough humidity and too much green juice. I don’t know what to do or who I can even tell.

Who will I be if I let go?

Sometimes Jughead looks at me as if he knows.

That was it. She ended the entry and then the next one was about Archie and Grundy. Fuck.

Channeling all his darkness into his obsession with Betty Cooper allowed Jughead to maintain a thin veneer of normalcy. That she might be doing the same to him…

The needy beast of a thing in his chest roared to life.

Most days, he does a pretty good job at seeming normal. Well, not normal. Reggie likes to call him things like Donnie Darko and Wednesday Adams, but, still, he manages to keep most of his darkness on the inside.

But all of these days from the past swirl in Jughead’s mind as he lets himself into the Andrews’ garage and commandeers Fred’s ladder. The day he met Betty. The day Betty burned her arm making him cookies. The day she got grounded for losing her American Girl doll. The day he set Nancy Drew on fire. The first day he saw her topless. The day she drove away from Riverdale in a wood-panelled station wagon. The day she asked him to join her on the Blue and Gold. The day the drive-in closed. The day he found her diary. The day she went on a “date” with Trev Brown.

Polly had accidentally scratched Betty’s cheek when the orderlies were dragging her out of their hug earlier. Jughead spent the car ride home fighting the urge to lick the blood off her face.

She would pine after Archie. She would “date” Trev. She would kiss Veronica. But her darkness is his. Today, she will pick him. He has a plan.

She sits at her vanity, fingering her necklace and staring at the floor when Jughead gets to the top of the ladder beneath her window. He wraps gently on the closed glass and her head turns, ponytail whipping behind her. He can tell she’s surprised, but her face quickly gives way to a smile as she rushes over to open the window.

“Hey there, Juliet. Nurse off duty?” She steps back so he can climb in. “You haven’t gone full ‘Yellow Wallpaper’ on me yet, have you?”

Betty’s voice is rough, as if she’s been crying. “They’re crazy. My parents are crazy.”

“They’re parents. They’re all crazy.”

“No, but what if—what if Polly is too?” Betty stammers. “The way she was talking to me, the way she looked at me. And now all I can think is, maybe I’m crazy like they are.” She’s spiralling. Jughead puts a hand on shoulder and he feels some of the tension drain out as she sighs, as his touch does that to her.

“Hey. We’re all crazy.” He looks into her eyes, willing her to know what he knows. To know they’re alike. She smiles at him and looks at the floor.

When he speaks, her eyes drift back up. “We’re not our parents, Betty. We’re not our families.” He might be imagining it, but he thinks her eyes pause on his lips on their journey back to the floor. “Also—”

“What?” she whispers. She stares into his eyes again as he flicks his gaze all over her face. “What?” she asks again, louder. She smiles at him with half of her mouth and raises one eyebrow.

He takes her face in his hands and kisses her. When she doesn’t pull back right away, the monster inside him cheers. Then when she kisses him back, he sighs and it settles into a contented purr.

She breaks the kiss, “The car!”

He smiles at her and raises his eyebrows. “Wow. That’s what you were thinking about in the middle of our moment?” If he hadn’t just felt the insistent pressure of her lips against his own, he’d be more upset. But he knows, better than anyone now, how Betty’s mind works.

“No. Polly talked about a car Jason had stashed for them down Route 40. Near some sign? If we can find it, we can confirm Polly’s story.”

“Well, one way or another.”

“I need to know, Juggie.” Then she leans forward and presses another soft kiss against his lips. He’d do anything for her. He’d kill for her. Of course he’ll go looking for the damn car with her. Because now, he’s got her. He’s finally got the real life Betty doll.

#bughead fanfiction #riverdale fanfiction #bughead #betty x jughead #betty cooper #jughead jones #mine #wpip #canon compliant #tw: implied violence

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ponderingthenoonlight · 6 years

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Adventures In the Land of the Vikings – Part 1

I just had to turn almost all the way back to the beginning of my stuffed journal to re-read this adventure.

In March 2017 I went on my first real solo trip, to Norway and the Faroe Islands. I’ll start with Oslo. Here is a little excerpt from my journal:

“I am well into my third month studying abroad, and our long awaited ‘winter’ break has arrived.

There is a screeching sound combined with a noise like metal springs being murdered, as the subway (above ground) pulls up to the Holmenkollen station where I am sitting. Of course, it’s going in the opposite direction from where my plans will take me. My subway should be getting here in about 15 minutes, but I don’t mind the waiting. I’ve gotten used to being okay with missing trains and subways in my time commuting from Täby to Stockholm and back in Sweden. After all, the wait now is giving me time to write this.

As the subway pulls away from me, it leaves me sitting across the tracks, a little less than 350 meters above the city of Oslo. Behind me are the sloping roads and drops offs leading down into the fjord which has a strange sunny mist playing over the whole thing. Birds are prattling on in the trees up here, and though there’s still some snow on the ground, I’ve already had to stuff my sweater in my camera bag/backpack. Spring is really coming.

…

I’m on my train now. It’s clean, un-crowded, and filled with sunlight. Nothing like the subways of New York underground. In my opinion, Scandinavia just keeps wining at the public transport game.

Man, it’s so sunny. To get the view of the fjord includes getting slightly roasted. Coat off.

Yesterday was the beginning of my truly solo Nordic adventure. One day in Oslo then a train-bus-boat journey of 2 days over to Bergen. Then 2 days in Bergen, and then flying off to the Faroes. …

Today, museums. Heck yeah archaeology.”

Peek at my journal

I’d flown from Stockholm’s Arlanda Airport to Oslo and taken the airport train to the Oslo train system. From there I got to my hotel. I’ll be open about the finances of this trip. Norway is ridiculously expensive, and I was ridiculously lucky to have financial help from my parents. They treated me to the stay in the gorgeous hotel at the top of the hill looking out of the fjord, and the wonderful meal I had there. For the rest of the time in Norway, I tried to eat at not so nice places, and didn’t do much souvenir shopping… much. But it’s still definitely a trip to save up for or to put on a Christmas list. It was certainly more affordable as I was just hopping over from Sweden. I also bought the Oslo Pass which give you deals on museum tickets, transportation, and more! I found it worth it to get a day pass for my day there.

It was just magnificent

I mean… Look at this gorgeous nordic castle of a hotel! I arrived the night before in the evening, and rose in the morning to see this place shine. I felt like possibly the luckiest college student in the world.

It was a daydream I was hesitant to leave, but there I was, as you read in my journal, at the subway station ready for a day of exploring Norwegian history.

My view, waiting for the train.

From the subway I walked to the harbor-side and hopped on a ferryboat which brought me to the “museum island” Bygdøy across the Oslo Fjord. The main highlights of the island are: The Viking Ship Museum, Norsk Folkemuseum, Kon-Tiki Museum, Polar Ship Fram, Norwegian Maritime Museum, and the Holocaust Center. I made it to four of the six before I returned to the mainland.

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The Fram Museum

The Fram museum holds two of the world’s strongest polar vessels and a rich collection of polar exploration artifacts and stories. The Fram was the strongest wooden ship ever built in it’s day, and you can walk across its beautifully preserved decks. Around the outside of the huge room, one that reminded me of my dear Vasa Museum back in Sweden, was a huge timeline of the explorers that called this ship their home over the years. I highly recommend this place. Learn about the Northern and Southern expeditions, Nansen, Roald Amundsen, being trapped in the ice, and more. The Gjøa is the first ship that made it through the Northwest Passage, and sits in another building, also part of the museum. I could have spent hours in both. It was humbling and fascinating.

The Fram

I was a pretty happy camper as I left one maritime exploration museum for the two more…

The Norwegian Maritime Museum and The Kon-Tiki Museum

I have always loved boats. Especially wooden ones. Especially sailing ones. But I can still never imagine being on the open, I mean really open, sea. These two museums taught me a thing or two about being humble when faced with the ocean. The Norwegian Maritime Museum walks you through hundreds of years of history and the people who really make Norway, from sailors to pirates to the women who traveled with them, and much much more (see the last circle photo below).

The Ra

And the Kon-Tiki Museum… well it mostly taught me what a crazy bastard Thor Heyerdahl was. I kid, I kid. It gave me the upmost respect for Thor, who crossed the Pacific Ocean on the balsa raft called Kon-Tiki, in 1947. What a feat… He didn’t stop there, either, and built two more rafts (including the Ra). The museum itself is brilliantly set up, especially giving you a real feel for adventure concerning archaeology, as Heyerdahl also explored Easter Island and several other sites. Really fascinating stuff. I couldn’t recommend them more. Plus, these two are right across from each other!

The Viking Ship Museum

Nothing really compares to walking into a museum and seeing the real-life artifacts that you’ve been learning about in class for months. Well, at least for an archaeologist. I’d spent three months already learning about viking archaeology at Stockholm Universitet, including ships, burials, art styles, and more. The Viking Ship museum (in Oslo- I’ll write about the danish one later) has it all. Well, specifically it features grave goods and ships from four main ship burials in Norway. Oseberg, Gokstad, Tune, and Borre. All these ships were used as “ocean-going vessels” before being used in burials. The ships, large and small, from these burials are magnificently preserved, as are the masterpieces of burial goods found inside them. After looking at them only in books, it was emotional and incredible to see them in person. (Actually, I had been here before, as well as the Fram museum, as a wee bitty child. It was interesting to see that I had combined aspects of each with each other in my vague memories. Nice to sort that all out again as an adult, and sad to see how much I had lost or gotten wrong in those childhood memories.)

It was almost impossible to get the complete ship in one shot. There are special balconies in the museum made for getting all the ship in one photo.

I won’t bore you by going into details of each burial, or the artifacts I took photos of, but one amazing fact I will share is that the largest boat, the Oseberg Ship, appears to the the burial of two powerful viking women. Their burial goods include not only the massive and gorgeously decorated ship, but also three sledges, a wagon, beautiful animal shaped headposts (incredible examples of the viking art style that actually got its name from this find), five beds, six dogs, fifteen horses, two cows, and more.

Gods do I love Viking Ships…

Hello, beautiful

Akershus Fortress

The last stop of the day before I headed back to the hotel – I had an early start on the next leg of my adventure the next day – was wandering along the harbor and exploring, and playing really, around the Akershus Fortress. I love a good castle-park-fort exploration and had far too much fun by myself; taking photos, posing with the statues that were part of an art exhibition at the time, and generally feeling like I was in another world. I’ll show the rest of the day with photos, because it was too gorgeous a place for me to describe.

Oh also, it’s free entry! – I never went inside any buildings, so not sure if those require entry fees or are even open to the public… there was so much to do outside and it felt like springtime for the first time! (You’ll see me without a sweater in a couple photos!)

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I had a fantastic time. I think I’ll have to write a post about taking photos of oneself while solo-traveling, because this was the first step of that learning curve. It was a fun first step though, and I have some great memories captured now to show for it.

I remember one moment in particular. I was taking the photo (the first in this blog post) and there was that long beautiful avenue of trees on a hill above the main cobbled walking path below, and I thought the light was just perfect. So, I set up my tripod, set off the timer, and sprinted down the avenue of trees, away from the camera, to spin around and pose in that ridiculous but joyful moment you see above. Panting and grinning, I ran back to the camera to see how it had turned out, and heard a voice call out from below.

“That was so nice!”

A young man, maybe tourist maybe local, but with a Scandinavian accent for sure, was beaming up at me, having seen my skipping gullumfing moment. Apparently it had made his day. I shouted a thanks and he gave me a thumbs up before continuing on away with his friends. That one little comment made me feel a lot better and less silly for all the other photos I had taken before that moment.

I went back to the hotel exhausted, only to go out again as I was invited to the art-opening of a popular bar in the city. But that’s a whole other story. I finally got to bed exhausted, delighted, and feeling seriously empowered, excited to continue my solo journey across Norway.

A very happy Petra in the Fram Museum’s bathroom #noshameformirrorselfies

A Day (of Museums and Castles) in Oslo - The first stage of my solo adventures in the land of vikings... Adventures In the Land of the Vikings - Part 1 I just had to turn almost all the way back to the beginning of my stuffed journal to re-read this adventure.

#adventure writing #Archaeology #museums #norway #oslo #photography #Travel #travel writing #viking ships #vikings #writing

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whiskersinstrudel · 7 years

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The Art of Kidnapping One's Own Dog

(I occasionally get asked to participate in a live storytelling event with the Asheville Community Theater; this story was first told onstage in July 2016.) I feel the need to preface this story with two things: #1: What I’m about to say is completely true, and #2 all of us still talk to each other, at least occasionally. I got my first dog when I was 6. I picked her out at the Loudoun County Animal Shelter; she was a 2-year-old, 35 pound, short haired border collie. She was all black and white with these little salt and peppered front legs, and a curly tail with a little white tip. I was instantly in love, in that way that 6 year old girls fall in love. We rode home together in the very back seat of my mom’s tan, wood-paneled 1970-something Chevy Caprice Classic station wagon; the kind that had that seat that faced backwards and was probably was designed to kill you in a minor accident but was great for waving at other drivers and then flicking them off and your mom was too far away to be able to smack you? That’s where we sat, this unnamed dog and I. I was so happy. So I’m the middle of five kids; I rarely got anything of my own. Even my gerbil had been a hand-me-down. Like who else gets a used gerbil? Used gerbil just sounds gross. My parents decided this was going to be MY dog. They registered her in my name, which was HUGE. I was getting my very own used dog, you guys! This was a big day for kid #3! I named this border collie Sassafras after my favorite tree (sassafras allbeedum), because even when I was six I deserved to be given a wedgie and shoved into a locker. Very quickly Sassafras became the most beloved member of the family; the one we all seemed to like. Word about my parents: they are magnetic opposites. They could not be more different, and not in a cute, “opposites attract” way—nope. You know when you have two things that are great alone but terrible together, like toothpaste and orange juice, or tequila and high school reunions, or milk duds and temporary crowns? Those are my parents. So yeah, they’re divorced. Like SUPER divorced. They started divorcing when I was 8; it took 3 years to finish fighting over everything. It was an acrimonious, brutal, dirty split. Any opportunity they had to hurt the other person was fully utilized. They both took a scorched-earth approach to all things familial; that whole “let’s be civil for the kids” thing was never attempted. The kids were just going to be collateral damage, and we knew it. When the dust settled, they were to share custody of the three middle kids: Amanda, Sarah and Elliott. Somehow the dog was also lumped in with us, so that when we went to dad’s, Sassafras came too. Family vacations, holidays, whatever it was—she went where we went. She had two bowls, two beds, two leaches—broken home kids with a broken home dog! And so it was for several years. I was now 15; Sassafras was 11 years old and a little gray around the muzzle. She slept a lot, but still had a tendency to wander away from my mother’s house whenever the invisible fence would go down, and as we lived in the country, the power went out all the time. As soon as the power would flicker, she’d be through the fence and off on an adventure. We would find her miles away every time, but as long as we kept the invisible fence collar on her and the power stayed on, she didn’t try to escape. So one day that fall of sophomore year, my mother came home from work and announced that she was planning to give Sassafras away…the next day. She was mad at my dad about something, and this was her revenge. It was specific, and precise, and brutal. I mean getting rid of someone’s pet is like Fatal Attraction kind of terrible. Now my brother and I had learned years prior that when it came to our parents, it is far better to be the Viet Cong than the red coats. You know, using guerilla tactics rather than overt disagreement. Smile and nod and then plan your secret counterattack. Elliott and I secretly called our dad and told him what mom was planning to do. He was understandably furious, but we told him that we had seen Goonies many times and we were working on a plan and instructed him to stay by the phone, that we’d call back in a few minutes with the details. For some reason, he agreed to do so. Here is what we knew: We had to steal the dog before my mom could give her away Said dog has a natural tendency to run. We needed to exploit this trait. In order for this plan to work, we needed mom to believe Sassafras ran off on her own. As every good covert operative knows, the first step to any respectable clandestine operation is a really good name. After surprisingly little thought, we dubbed this one Operation Hushpuppy. I am still so proud of this name. Here’s how Operation Hushpuppy would go down. Imagine I’m doing this montage – style. STEP 1: Elliott and Sarah would wait until it was almost Mom’s bedtime then announce they are taking Sassafras on “one last walk” before she went away forever. Note: Sarah and Elliott had never, up to this point, taken said dog on a walk. But Mom would say yes, because Elliott and Sarah would use their saddest faces and we’d ask when she was really tired. STEP 2: Elliott and Sarah would remove Sassafras’ invisible fence collar and very conspicuously hang it up by the door, visual proof dog is not wearing it. STEP 3: Elliott, Sarah and Sassafras would walk to the extraction point, where Dad would roll up to in his car, headlights off. Elliott and Sarah would deposit the dog in said car. Said dad would creep away in his stealthy Subaru. STEP 4: Elliott and Sarah would wait outside the house until they heard mom go upstairs for bed. They then would loudly return from their walk. They would hang the dog leash in an obvious spot, and then loudly open and close the door to the basement steps. Sonically, the whole house now believes the dog is in the basement for the night. STEP 5: This is the most crucial step! Elliott and Sarah would intentionally leave the basement’s outside door wide open. The basement is no longer a secure place for a dog who likes to run! This step is done in silence, like the Viet Cong. STEP 6: The next morning, Mom would call downstairs for the dog. The dog would not respond. Mom would find the outside door left open, the invisible fence collar still hung on the wall and put together the pieces like she’s Nancy Drew: Sassafras had wandered away, AGAIN. Her stupid kids couldn’t remember to close doors. So while Elliott and I were staging a fake fight as to who left the outside basement door open, the likes of which Meryl Streep’s dramatic flairs could not approach, four miles away Sassafras would be settling into her one-parent home. Operation Hushpuppy: RAGING SUCCESS. But how do we keep up the ruse? Whenever my dad knew my mother would be dropping us off, he just made sure the dog was inside. Perfect. No muss, no fuss. My mother was not looking for the dog and the dog was not looking to be found. Everyone could’ve come out a winner in this story, if that were the end of it. But it isn’t. Flash forward to Christmas break. It was dad’s year to have us stay with him for the holidays. He’d thrown out his back a few days before and was unable to walk—he was crawling around on his hands and his knees. Because he couldn’t walk, getting the dog inside on time wasn’t high on his priority list. So it is Christmas Eve. We have an inch or two of snow on the ground. My mother and stepfather pulled into my dad’s driveway to drop us off and who is waiting to greet us? Why, its Sassafras standing in the fresh snow, wagging her little curly tail! “WHAT IS THAT DOG DOING HERE!?” Mom yelled. I thought quickly. “She just showed up one day, and we figured that since you didn’t want her anymore, it would be fine! We’d get to keep the dog and you wouldn’t have to deal with her anymore! Win win!” I said, selling the story with every fibre of my being. I went full Tiny-Tim Mode, practically shouting something about, “God bless us, every one!” Mom scowled and didn’t respond. Elliott got out of the old Dodge Caravan with his duffle bag, and I grabbed mine. As I turned and took one step toward the house, I heard the van door start to slam. I whipped around in time to see my mother had grabbed my dog by the collar, thrown her in the van and was speeding off. I tried to chase her. They ran over my foot. My mom stole my dog on Christmas Eve. My mom stole my dog on Christmas Eve, and ran over my foot while doing it. My mom stole my dog on Christmas Eve, ran over my foot, and then called the cops to report that my dad was a dog thief. As technically the dog was registered in my name, she wasn’t stolen so the cops didn’t do anything. So that Christmas there we were: cops, a broken dad, a stolen dog, a sore foot, lots of crying. I say this without hyperbole: not the best Christmas of my life. Through our tears, Elliott and I tried to find hope; we half-heartedly came up with an elaborate plan to counter-abduct our dog, but my dad shot down our ideas. We were all dejected. And Mom still planned to give Sassafras away, only now it was to spite her ex and her kids. It seemed she had won. But wait, there’s more. Really. I can’t end the story there, are you kidding!? See, Dad had his back surgery on December 28th. He was walking a few days later. And it just so happened that my sister’s birthday is January 10th and as she was turning 18, she was doing what so many 18-year olds do: she was dramatically moving out of her parent’s house. Granted she was moving out of one parent’s home and into another’s, but her moving to dad’s was still a dramatic event. So while mom was at work, Amanda packed up her clothes, her shoes, her CDs and the dog, and drove the 4 miles to Dad’s. Meanwhile, Dad went to the county office and switched the dog’s registration from my name to his. My mother came home and found both dog and daughter gone. She was only upset about one of those disappearances (hint: it was the dog). She called the police again, who told her the registration had been changed and they couldn’t do anything about it: the dog was now legally my dad’s dog. She was furious. She vowed revenge. She never got it. But Sassafras lived to be almost 19 years of age, and she never saw my mother’s house again.

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