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gintokisimp · 3 years

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Happy Birthday Gin-san!

One-Shot about Gintoki's 30th birthday. Tsukuyo has a special present for the clueless Gintoki. The setting of the fic is an already lightly romantic established GinTsu relationship. They already had some kind of romantic encounters, but it was never quite enough for anyone to make a first move. Basically all of them could be seen as „Well, that was awkward, but we are friends so it’s funny.“

Genre: Fluff, First Kiss Stuff

Rating: General Audience

Word Count: 1,960

"Gin-chan, wake up! wake up!"

Kagura's scream echoed through the Yorozuya banged on his door before tearing it open with an ugly sound.

"You're an old man now, no more sleeping in late" She continued to scream with full volume.

"Shut up!" Gintoki screamed back and opened his eyes. He sure felt like an old man already. His life was okay now, after the ending of the canon material. But something was missing, but he also didn't care enough to find out what exactly was missing.

Kagura brought in a birthday cake with 3 sloppily placed candles, topped with one single strawberry. Gintoki frowned looking at the candles.

"I'm 30, not 3." He blurted.

"Yes yes, right. You're so old, I need to use one candle for 10 years, that's how old you are!" She explained to him. Gintoki snorted.

"Why are you so happy so early in the morning?!"

"Here, eat up or mommys gonna be pissed!"

She ignored his bad mood and lifted the fork, forcing the cake in his mouth.

"Ah Kagura stop that, I can eat myself." He picked the fork out of her hand and grumpily ate the cake, sharing it with her. To be exact, Kagura shared with him. She ate most of the cake.

"We're gonna have a party today, yes we will!" She announced.

He groaned in disapproval, a party was the last thing he wanted.

"Zura and Elisabeth are coming, that weird space guy, Shinpachi of course, Gorilla boss lady, -"

"How many people did you invite?!" He interrupted her.

"Mayofreak, Gorilla, that sadistic assface" She ended her list.

"Did you invite the whole Shinsengumi?!"

"Yes of course! It's a special occasion after all!"

"Who's gonna pay for that?!"

"You don't need to pay, don't worry. It's your birthday!"

She happily jumped to her feet, snatching the plate from his hands, on her way to leave his room.

"Thank you, Kagura" Gintoki mumbled. She turned around and smiled.

He laid down again and sighed.

Just forget my birthday already, no one cares about that.

"No more sleeping! Get up now!" Kagura screamed from outside.

Angrily mumbling Gintoki crawled out of his futon and prepared himself for the shitty day.

--------------- x ---------------

The Yorozuya office was packed.

Every possible sitting space was occupied, the room filled with familiar faces. The mood was exuberant, but Gintoki still didn't warm up to the idea of the party.

All guests had arrived by now and the alcohol rose to everyone's head, while Gintoki tried to keep the excitement down. They tried to toast on his birthday several times, but he always denied it, frantically searching for excuses.

Once, he spurted over to the kitchen, pretending that he left the stove on.

Another time, he feigned to be asleep on the couch.

There was no reason for a celebration. There never was.

Katsura had just spilled his third beer all over the floor and Gintoki was kneeling down, searching for some napkins in a drawer, when suddenly the shoji door opened and another trio entered the room. "Hey Tsukki, Hinowa, Seita!" Kagura shouted happily.

Gintoki's heart stumbled. He abruptly lifted his head, banging his head against the drawer. Rubbing his back of the head, he stood up straight and faced the new guests.

Kagura didn't tell me they were coming as well..

"Tsukki…,what are you doing here?" He asked nervously

"Gin-san, Happy Birthday!"

Hinowa said with a singing voice, reaching for his hand to press it lightly, shaking it excitedly.

"Here, we have a present for you!" Seita hugged him turbulently with a small package in his hands, giving it to him with a big smile.

"It's ya birthday, are we not invited?" Tsukuyo mumbled, arms crossed in front of her chest, averting her eyes, Kiseru in her mouth.

Hinowa slightly pushed in Tsukuyos ribs.

"Don't you-?"

She whispered and Tsukuyo blushed slightly before she eyed Gintoki.

Confused, he tilted his head, Seita still jumping around in front of him.

Tsukuyo sighed, closed the few steps between them, walked around Seita and spread out her arms, wrapping them around Gintoki.

He was baffled.

Hugs? Since when does she give out hugs?

"Happy Birthday" She mumbled incomprehensibly.

Tsukuyo hugged him tight, a little too tight. He could feel her arms cramping around him and her heart racing against his. Well, that's awkward. Gintoki felt his heart speed up as well.

"Oi oi, not so unruly, you're almost assaulting me" He laughed nervously.

She tensed up, let out an angry sound and smashed him to the ground, pressing the air out of his lungs.

"That's a nice present, did not expect anything else from you.." He mumbled, lying exhausted on his back.

Tsukuyo was standing over him, her face beet red.

"Tsukki, are you okay? Are you sick?" Kagura shouted from her seat on the couch.

"'s fine" She blurted.

"Oi, why does no one care about me? It's my birthday and I just got crashed into the damn floor" Gintoki grumbled.

"You're fine." Kagura simply replied.

"Nothing new" Shinpachi shouted from the other side. Hinowa smiled happily.

"Oi, why are you happy? Why are you happy?!"

--------------- x ---------------

The evening had gone by mostly uneventfully. Katsura had tried to battle everyone in a game of uno, but he failed miserably, losing every single time. The now close to tears samurai was comforted by Elisabeth in one corner of the room.

"This never happens to me, I'm so good at this game!" He cried in his sleeve.

Elisabeth held up a sign: You're the best player!

Tatsumas laughter repeatedly echoed through the room. It was the most annoying sound of the evening. Gintoki had the strong urge to kick his head in.

"Kintoki, drink something with me!" He called out to him, completely wasted.

"It's Gintoki, can't ya at least get it correctly on my birthday?!" Gintoki hadn't touched a single drop. He still didn't feel like celebrating.

The Shinsengumi members happily drank in their own little round and were joined by Hinowa, Kagura and Shinpachi. Seita played on his new TS. unbothered by the commotion around him. Otae and Kyuubei sat on his table, sharing some food, leaving Gintoki and Tsukuyo alone.

"So.. how are ya" Gintoki started after some minutes of silence between them.

"Whaddaya mean?" She replied uninterested, smoking her kiseru.

"I asked about your well-being , what do you not understand?"

"Why are ya asking, you never ask that" She simply replied.

"Fine, I won't do it again." Offended, Gintoki crossed his arms in front of his chest.

He glanced over to her, their eyes met and both of them turned away, slightly blushing.

Hinowa turned her attention to Tsukuyo, noticing the thick tension between them.

"Tell him how you are, it's not that hard." She chuckled, slightly drunk and continued talking to Kondo with great interest. Hinowa had recently started to bond with him, much to her disapproval. She didn't want the police involved in Yoshiwaras business.

Tsukuyo huffed.

"'s fine, I guess." She finally replied to his question.

"Ah.. I see."

"and how is it?"

"How is what?"

"Being old." She grimaced maliciously.

Gintoki scoffed. "It's not that different from yesterday, it's just one day later."

"okay.."

"I don't know.. lonely" He continued.

"You don't have to be lonely," Tsukuyo said, still looking in another direction.

"..what do you mean?" Gintoki turned in her direction.

"I urr I.. I mean..you have Kagura and Shinpachi.. you're not alone"

Gintoki paused.

"Yea right, I'm not alone, but still lonely"

"That's not true, Gintoki."

"Sooner or later Kagura will move out, Shinpachi will find a girlfriend, and they will be living their own lives. I'll be a single left alone dad by then. Maybe I should buy myself a woman in Yoshiwara.." His thoughts trailed off.

"Ya couldn't afford that anyways. Besides.. I'm sure there's someone for you" Tsukuyo's voice got lower with the progression of her sentence.

"Really? Who is it, is she hot? Does she have big boobs? Please tell me she's not from the Hyakka"

"..kind of"

"Tell me, who is it?" He was invested now.

"Well..-"

"Tsukki, don't you still have another present?" Tsukuyo jumped at Hinowas interruption.

"No I don't. It's already late, let's go home." Tsukuyo answered quickly and she stood up hastily, leaving the disappointed Gintoki behind.

"Okay, if you say so."

Seita helped Hinowa and they said their goodbyes, walking to the front door. Gintoki stood up as well and accompanied them to the exit like a good host.

"You can tell me Tsukki, I won't tell anyone!"

But she just ignored him. He gave up.

"Thanks for coming, hope you enjoyed it." He said politely.

"Oh Gin-san of course we did! It's always pleasant to be around both of you !" Hinowas smiled.

Gintoki was confused "Why do you say 'both of you' so weird?"

Hinowa didn't reply and Tsukuyo pushed her to the door. Halfway, she stopped and turned around, facing the in the door leaning Gintoki.

"Gintoki..I .. I actually have another present for you" She started quietly.

Hinowas gasped slightly.

"She's gonna do it!" She whispered to Seita.

"Eh? I don't need presents, I thought I already said that." Gintoki waved his hand dismissively.

"It's just.. something small."

"uh.. okay?"

"you jus..just need to come a bit closer."

"You're scaring me."

"Or I can just come to you.."

Tsukuyo carefully walked back, stopping right in front of him at a very short distance. Sweat formed on his forehead.

"Close your eyes." She whispered.

He did.

Gintoki felt her small hands on his, turning his palm around, laying her hand in his. But there was nothing in her hand.

There's nothing there, What could it be? -

That's when she kissed him. No warning, no preparations. She just kissed him then and there in the doorway, right on the lips, in full view of everyone.

Gintoki forgot to think at all.

Her warm soft lips on his spread a fire in his body, crawling under his skin, burning the hands that were covered by her soft fingers.

One second.

The whole room went silent, Tatsumas laughter died.

If you listened carefully enough, you could've heard a feather falling to the wooden floor.

Two seconds.

Gintoki's head started to spin. His eyes opened slightly and he saw her face through his lashes.

Three seconds.

That was over the limit of an accidental kiss.

It was not a shy kiss,

it was brisk,

setting a complete new point in their relationship.

Her feathery touch on his hand tightened, sending a shiver that traveled down his spine, making his heart beat painfully fast.

Gintoki slightly opened his lips, about to return the kiss, but she retreated, her face tinted in a shade of red he had never seen before.

Tsukuyo smiled lovingly and lifted a finger, brushing it over his open mouth, caressing his lips.

"Happy Birthday"

She whispered and turned around on her heels, hooking the excited chattering Hinowa into her arms and quickly excited through the front door.

Gintoki just stood there, dumbfounded, unable to move.

The kiss wasn't that long, and it certainly wasn't a scene from a shoujo manga with a great backdrop, exciting atmosphere and a big buildup, but it was wonderful.

Nothing else was able to reach his mind in this moment, he only knew he would remember it forever.

Several minutes went by.

Still, no one had said a word.

Everyone stared at him and Gintoki stared at the door where he had last seen her.

“ehh.. Gin-san..? Is everything ok?" Shinpachi asked carefully, the sounds slowly returning to the room.

Gintoki's fingers slowly lifted up to touch his lips, her sweet taste still lingering on them.

“what…?" ..did just happen?

#gintama #gintoki #gintama fanfiction #fanfiction #first kiss #tsukuyo #gintsu #gintsuki #gintsukki #gintoki x tsukuyo #銀時 #fanfic #銀月 #銀魂 #gintsu fanfiction

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rachellelie · 3 years

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A Romantica Wedding

A little late, but here's another fic for @romanticaweek! Feel free to read on A03. There is also a fic on their engagement over there! Prompt- Silence/Party. (A wedding is basically a party, right?)

It was time. He turned to look at himself in the floor-length mirror that sat in the room. He had spent the last hour or so getting ready. He was dressed in an all-white tuxedo now, fidgeting with the lapels on the suit jacket. He turned around to find his brother standing there, tears filling his eyes. He held out his elbow for him. “Are you ready?” He whispered. He offered a trembling smile and nodded.

They walked outside of the venue-a fancy building that contained multiple, spacious rooms and was decorated with white lace, fairy lights, and flowers throughout. They walked down the steps that led towards an aisle, multiple chairs sat on either side and there was a white runner that led from the stairs and continued on. Everything outside was a vibrant green; luscious grass with nearby tall, stunningly green forest trees. and the sky above was a striking blue.

Standing in front of the chairs on either side of the aisle were their guests consisting of friends and family. Among those in the front few rows included his sister-in-law, as well as his lover's parents. Next to whom was the rest of his lover’s family who consisted of his brother, and his cousins. In the few rows behind them were their friends and co-workers, an editor, their boss and his assistant, a childhood friend, and his guest, and another recently made friend from college.

Misaki Takahashi and his brother, Takahiro Takahashi, came to the start of the aisle and stopped. He watched as Takahiro encouraged his son, Mahiro to walk down the aisle ahead of them. He was carrying the teddy bear he and his lover, Usagi-san, lived with, Suzuki san, in his arms. The bear was dressed in a tuxedo outfit, dressed for the occasion, and tied to Suzuki-sans bow were two wedding rings. Officially. Mahiro was the ring bearer, but of course-hearing that word, ring bearer, Usagi couldn’t let it go and so it had been decided to let Mahiro carry the giant teddy bear so that Mahiro and Suzuki-san were both the ring bearer. They watched as Mahiro waddled down the aisle, giant teddy bear in tow.

In the center of the chairs, the aisle was covered with a white, lacy fabric cover which came to a set of small steps. The steps led to the platform, where a wedding arch stood in the center, it was white and full of various colorful flowers. Beyond that, there appeared to be a cliff, where the sound of crashing waves against the mountainside could be heard faintly.

At the end of the aisle, underneath the wedding arch, in its very center stood a pair of older gentlemen. One of them wore ceremonious robes and had a book in his hand- the wrinkles around his eyes crinkled as he smiled. Misaki recognized him as the man he usually referred to as Sebastian, even though he was actually named Tanaka, and there he stood, waiting to officiate the ceremony.

Misaki’s eyes flitted from Tanaka and landed on the man who stood in front of him; his lover. There stood Usagi, who was dressed in an all-black suit; he turned to watch as Misaki appeared at the end of the aisle. And how he smiled.

Misaki’s heart fluttered at the sight of his lover smiling at him at the end of a wedding aisle. He still couldn’t quite believe that he wasn’t dreaming. He felt his brother tighten his hold on his arm, squeezing him reassuringly. He squeezed back.

Misaki inhaled once. Exhaled. And stepped forward. Towards his future.

Towards the person who he had fallen in love with. Who he was now choosing to spend his next year with, and the year after and all the years after that…

As he approached he noticed the smiles and adoration on all of their guests' faces. His heart swelled at how many of them were here, supporting them and rooting for their relationship. It hadn’t occurred to him how obvious it had been to everyone they knew that he and Usagi were dating. He remembered breaking the news to each of them.

“Misaki and I are getting married,” Usagi stated matter-of-factly to anyone who would listen. Their responses went like this:

“Well, it’s about time!” Minami said proudly as her husband's eyes filled with tears.

“My little brother is growing up! Misaki, listen to me! If he ever hurts you in any way I’ll be sure to return the favor!”

And

“Finally, when’s the wedding? What should I bring?” Kaoruko exclaimed, all ready to go into planning mode.

“You can bring me….” Mizuki muttered under his breath; she whacked him in the back of his hand with a “Hmph!” In the end, they had appeared together, sitting by side. She had also presented them with the gift of baking their wedding cake.

And

“Congrats Chibi-tan! Just don’t take too long on your honeymoon…Akihiko still has deadlines to meet…”

“AAAHHHH!!! I’m so happy for the both of you…now about where that new chapter is sensei-”

Now they all stood, staring straight at him. He blushed profusely as he felt his heart jump into his throat. He was grateful he had his brother’s arm to steady him. They were closer now.

Closer…

Closer..

Closer.

And just like that, they had reached the end of the aisle.

Takahiro patted his hand and leaned over to kiss his head, smiling as he pull away, his eyes brimming with tears. He turned to sit next to his wife in the front row, who was now corralling their son and the bear he was holding for the time being.

He stepped up the small steps and took his spot standing straight across from Usagi, who met his eyes then. He was staring at him as if he was the only person in the world and Misaki’s heart flip-flopped.

Misaki smiled shyly, “Hi,” He breathed, unsure of himself.

“Hi,” Usagi smiled, and it was bright.

Everyone took their seats and Tanaka started to speak. “Dearly beloved…” His voice droned on, and Misaki was barely listening now. His mind was racing in anticipation of what was coming next and focusing on the man in front of him. Usagi cocked his head to the side and stared at him adoringly with a slight smile on his face. Misaki vaguely registered Tanaka saying the words “vows.”

He started to speak, “Misaki, I love you. Loving you is my everything. And if you let me, I’ll spend all my years with you, this year, next year, the year after, and all the years after that. Forever. All that I ask is that you stay by my side. “

“Are you making fun of me?” Misaki blanched his nerves on high alert now.

Usagi smiled and shook his head, “Not at all.” He stated in that calm, endearing voice of his.

Then, it was Misaki’s turn. “Um,” He started, because he was such a smooth talker. “I…I’m not very good at words or saying the right thing. But, I know that…I just want…to stay by your side. If that’s ok with you. And that…if that happens then...we'll be alright. We’ll always be alright.”

The ceremony proceeded on and they were instructed to exchange rings. They took the rings from Suzuki-sans bow and followed the instructions to place them on each other’s hands. They were matching rings, Usagi-sans engagement one had stayed the same - saying he wanted nothing else because that one was so precious. He had gotten a matching one for Misaki the next day. They were simple gold bands, with two teddy bear heads on them (resembling Suzuki-san), and a heart overlapping them. The inscription engraved on the inside matched as well, “this year, next year, the year after, and all the years after that.”

As they placed the rings on each other’s fingers, a light sprinkle of rain started falling from the sky. It was a bright and sunny day, so it was a bit shocking to feel the cool water against the warm sun. They all looked up towards the sky, some of them holding out their hands for the rain to fall upon them.

In the middle of the sunshine and rain, just beyond the cliff off in the distance, there was a newly formed rainbow. It sat perfectly between the couple who were now holding each other's hands out in front of them, their wedding bands sparkling in the sun. And they laughed, feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness.

As soon as it had arrived, the rain began to subside, only leaving the rainbow behind in its wake along with the refreshing scent of rain and pine. Not a cloud was in sight. They continued on, and as Usagi took a step towards him, Misaki felt his heartbeat furiously in his chest.

“I now pronounce you…married. You may now kiss your husband.” And he did just that. Usagi cupped his chin, tilting it up towards him, and kissed him tenderly, lovingly, adoringly. So much so, that Misaki thought he was going to drown in his love for him.

***

#junjou romantica #romanticaweek #fic #fanfic #marriage #writing #my writing #words

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rebyell · 4 years

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Chicago Fire Fic: What Was and What Should Be, Ch. 1

Sylvie tried to find something to say that was light and encouraging. She actually appreciated that she was now one of the people Casey leaned on the most at 51 – he didn’t really have anyone outside the house, and he’d admitted that with Kidd having moved in to Severide’s place, he felt awkward talking to Severide about much, like he was horning in on their couple time. So he was going out more, trying to ‘move on’ apparently while also staying out of their way, working long hours on construction projects so he was only really sleeping there, but Sylvie really wanted to be encouraging his pursuit of happiness, not be a jealous meanie, who thought he was hot, and kind, and sweet, and hot – how had she not noticed how handsome he was when he was married? She’d been so convinced that he was so lucky to have Gabby, but damn, Gabby had been lucky to have him, too. So Matt was talking to her now, not Severide. This time, it had been an insensitive bitch (Sylvie’s thoughts, not his) who had basically cut him off at the knees when he mentioned he had a roommate. They’d been going out three weeks (Casey’s attempts at being discrete were ruined by the perpetual gossip queens at 51, so this was not news), and the woman had wanted to go back to his, and he’d gotten to the fact he was living with a friend (he had not, he said, gotten to the whole ‘I lost everything I owned in a fire and insurance is insisting that the court case be finished before officially determining I wasn’t the arsonist’). Apparently, he’d passed along, having a roommate at 37 made him a ‘loser’ who was ‘immature, financially unstable, or worse, both’ and that he’d never find a normal woman who’d date a guy nearing 40 who didn’t at least have his shit together enough to live on his own. She could imagine Matt, sweet, solemn, genuinely-cares-about-what-you’re-saying, and much more sensitive than most people knew Matt Casey, listening to a woman he liked call him a loser and then getting stuck with the dinner-and-drinks bill, and here he was, of course, blaming himself, believing this woman (though he didn’t say as much, it was pretty obvious, and she was drunk, so it must be really obvious) and it made her mad. Very mad. He was such a decent guy, and that face, and he was nicely built, and he was not a loser at all – even when she was sober she totally did not think he was a loser at all. He was kind and warm and very responsible and very mature and very hot. Okay, she was drunk, and focusing on the ‘attractive’ thing a little too much.

“You don’t have to disagree with her, you know.” Matt managed a sad attempt at a half-smile. Her confusion must have shown on her face. “You look like you’re trying to come up with a nice, supportive, Sylvie Brett way of saying she’s right – of all the fish in the sea, I’m the worst catch, so to speak.”

“Uhm, no, not what was I thinking at all. Trust me, you have to scrape the bottom of a really deep barrel to be the worst catch in the sea.” She meant that, truly, there were a surprisingly high number of shitty people in the dating pool. Like apparently this Miranda woman he’d been seeing. Seeing the look on his face, she kept going, “Not that you’re a bad catch at all, Matt Casey. You’re kind, and sweet, and very handsome, and you’ve got a good job – two good jobs really, so bonus for that – and you’re a great friend, and you have the most amazing eyes, has anyone told you that?” “You’ve been trying to keep up with Foster again, haven’t you?” He asked, a more genuine smile spreading across his face.

“No, well, yes, but she bought and she kept buying, before she left to go to some thing for a friend or with a friend or about a friend.” Sylvie explained. “But me being drunk is not why you have beautiful eyes. You just do. Me being drunk might be why I’m saying it though. But it’s better than saying the other thing I was thinking, so it’s okay, because the other thing I was thinking is you’re hot. And that would be awkward. Maybe. If you’re not okay with that. Not with being hot, I guess you’re okay with that, you’ve probably been hot like your entire life, but with me saying it.”

“Were you drinking beer all night?” He gestured to what was in her hand. She didn’t follow his jump in topic, but oh well.

“What? This?” She glanced at the bottle. “No. After round three of whiskey, I told Foster I had to switch to beer.” “Three? And how many beers?” “This is my third, but I’ve had like…two sips out of it. You’re not going to buy me a drink, are you?” “Well, I was going to offer, since you’ve listened to me complain, but I think now I’m going to offer to take you home instead.” “See?! Nice, sweet, kind Matt Casey – definitely a good catch.”

“Yeah, nice guys, what every woman wants apparently.” Matt scoffed, rolling his eyes a little. “Stay here, I’ll clear my tab with Herrmann.” “I’ll be here.” She assured, thankful a moment later that the bar was kind of loud as “enjoying the view of your butt,” slipped out because she was actually that shallow tonight, he had a nice butt. His turnout gear of course did not show it off, but sometimes his duty pants did. Tonight, his dress pants did. He’d gotten dressed up, they must’ve gone somewhere nice, and then he got dumped, and told he was a loser. He probably paid the bill, too, he was the type to always pay for a girl, definitely. Typical Casey. Treated like crap and paid for the privilege of it. He was back a minute later, she almost laughed because he’d be the type to never realize but he always got served like first in the whole place because that was just Herrmann and Otis being respectful of their boss like that – everyone in the house adored Casey, even when he was making them nuts with drills and stuff.

“What’re you grinning about?” He asked with a smile.

“You.” “Laughing at me, huh? Can’t blame you.” His smile was fake now, though.

“Sort of, but not like you think. Her loss, Matt. I mean that. Everyone here loves you and if she doesn’t, well, that’s just poop for her.” “Poop for her?” Matt laughed lightly. “You’re in a bar, you can swear.” “I don’t like to swear much.” She shrugged. “Except, well, you don’t need to know that.” “You ready to head home?” “With you?” “Well, I’m driving, but no, I’ll take you back to yours. Otis said Cruz should be back from his date with Chloe by now.” “What if he brought Chloe back to ours? He thinks Otis and I are both out for the evening.” “I’m sure they’ll be in the bedroom in that case.” He reassured as he ushered out of the bar.

“Hey, Case, ‘hawks tickets on Friday, you in?” Severide asked as they passed his table. Kidd had a weird look on her face, Sylvie couldn’t place it, but it was weird. “Section 110, 2nd row.” “Hell yes I’m in. I’m gonna take Brett home – she tried to keep up with Foster again – catch you back home.” “Sure, later.”

“You know, I think Kidd doesn’t like you living there. Or maybe she was just jealous Severide didn’t take her to the Blackhawks.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking about getting a new place. I’ll have to rent for a while.”

“Ooh, let me help again this time! I love real estate. You should totally buy in this market, you know, you could make money on a fixer, you can do the work yourself and everything.” “I would, if I get the insurance settled. Then again, I have nothing to go in a house. Or an apartment. I don’t even own a mattress, or an entire wardrobe that doesn’t say Chicago Fire Department on it.” “Oh, I forgot for a second. Sorry. How long on that?” “Lawyers say a month or so until the case is wrapped up, so maybe six weeks.” “It’s been almost a year – since last December. Good thing you’ve got Severide.” “He’s a good friend, letting me crash in the guest room for 10 months.” Matt agreed. She looked at him, he was so earnest and kind and hot. She was stuck on the ‘hot’ tonight. Then something occurred to her.

“I just realized you sleep in the bed Kidd used to sleep in. The same sheets even. Washed but still. That’s kinda weird. I bet they had sex in her room sometimes. So like, you sleep in their bed, sort of.” “Now I’m going to be thinking about that tonight. Thanks for that.” Matt chuckled a little. They pulled up near her building. He didn’t have a parking spot, so he’d had to take what was sort of near her building. They had official visitor spots, she remembered. Too few, but it was a weeknight, so there were some left probably.

“You can go in the parking. You can have a visitor spots. I’ll give you the code. But shhh, we’re not supposed to give it out, we’re supposed to buzz you in with your phones, but I don’t know if I can type the code right right now.” “Alright, what’s the code I have to enter?” He asked, but he hadn’t moved the truck.

“Uhm, you have to be at the gate.” “I know that, I’m just not getting stuck up there and then you can’t remember it.” “Oh. I remember it! I’m not that drunk.” “You’re pretty drunk. It’s adorable but also a little concerning.” “It’s Foster’s fault. She drinks a lot. Not like at work, Captain Casey, sir. Just, like, out, she drinks more than I ever have.” “I can tell. The code?” “Oh, yeah. 03-04-18-37. Then my apartment number. Do you know that?”

“Yeah. Between you, Otis, and Cruz, it’s on a lot of paperwork I see.” “There’s an elevator. Thankfully. I’m not sure I like stairs right now.” “Probably not.” Casey agreed, as he punched in the code and the gate rolled back. He found the visitors spots easily up on the almost top bit of the parking deck. How did he know that? She got distracted, or something, because he was holding open his truck door, looking at her expectantly.

“What?” “You’re not sleeping my truck, Sylvie. Let’s go inside.” “Your truck is comfy. Not new, but reliable, comfy, lived in. Like you.” “I don’t know if that’s a compliment. Probably true, though.” Matt shook his head.

“I mean, it smells like you. Not that you’re lived in or comfy. You might be comfy. I’ve never sat on you.” She admitted as she slipped from the truck and headed towards the door into the residential part of the building. She was not sure the parking had always been this unlevel. She continued, “it smells like you. Like, good things. Like wood and sawdust and that guy smell, just whatever it is, that Matt smell that is just you, not anything else.” “I have a smell?” He caught her as she threatened to fall into him, the floor was really unlevel tonight and right in front of the elevator too, that was silly, who built it like that? “mm-hmm. It’s nice. See you smell like it right now. Sort of. You wore cologne though. It covers it up. It’s nice cologne, but I miss you smell.” “I did have a date tonight. I didn’t think ‘me smell’ was what I should go with.” “When we date, don’t bother with cologne. You smell sexier with the sawdust and you smell.” “Are we dating?” Matt asked with a chuckle. “I could stop being jealous of stupid mean women who say you’re a ‘loser’ then. And you wouldn’t get stuck paying for dinner with a woman who would call you a ‘loser’. Which isn’t good. Plus, then it wouldn’t be weird that I was checking out your butt tonight when you paid your tab.” “You were?” He wasn’t chuckling now, as they got out of the elevator on her floor. It wasn’t even many floors down from where they had been, but she was sure the stairs would be even more unlevel than the parking. “Mm-hmm. You have a cute butt in those pants. Also, you have the bluest eyes. I love your eyes. Did I say that already tonight? I’m drunk. I think I’m drunker than I think. Thought. I’m drunker enough to just decide we’re dating, so you can stop being with mean women and I can stop dealing with guys who don’t want what I want or whatever it is that means I keep ending up with guys who don’t understand me or the job. And since we’re dating, I can look at your ass and it’s not weird. And your eyes. And your…you.” “Is Cruz actually home? I could knock. I think you’re a little drunk to be left home by yourself.” “You can sleep over! If we’re dating now, it’s fine if you sleep over. Chloe sleeps over sometimes. And Lily too.” “That would probably not be a good idea.” “But if you leave, hey, what’re you doing, that’s my purse.” He just reached out and took her purse off her shoulder and was opening it. Rude. “And we’ve been standing at your door for a full minute. You have a key?” “Oh, yeah, it’s in there. Sorry.” “Let’s get you inside.” He said, as he found the key and opened the door. He guided her inside, even though she lived there. “Cruz!” He called out, but there was no answer. She figured that meant he was at Chloe’s, or maybe they were still out, it wasn’t that late, not really, she was just drunk kinda early. Because of Foster. Who was a bad influence. Whose bad influence led her to be here, being ushered around her own apartment by Matt Casey. Who was also her boss. Sort of. Not really. So it wasn’t a conflict really because he couldn’t give orders to ambo. Except sometimes. And he processed all their personnel paperwork and stuff. So some authority. But that didn’t mean he was her boss and she shouldn’t be attracted to him because of rules. He smelled good. Sexy. And he was probably really well built. She’d never actually seen him shirtless. But he had to be. She wanted to know. “Let’s get you some water.” His voice pulled her from her thoughts. Even his voice was sexy. “I’m not thirsty. I had lots of liquid, too much, I mean.” She was pretty sure if she drank anything more, she’d start to feel sick. Plus, she kind of didn’t want to sober up just yet. She was enjoying the feelings of being close to him. “You’re drunk.” Matt reminded. “water will help.” “But if I get less drunker, I won’t have the guts to do this.” She said, then practically fell into him to kiss him. Maybe it was his body heat, or his smell, or his Matt Casey-ness, but she was drunk enough to go with it and worry about whatever later, so she kissed him, good and long and hard. She kissed him and enjoyed that he kissed back and he was good at it. He kissed like he did everything else, like it was the only thing on the planet going on right at that moment, and damn it, she wanted him, wanted to throw him on the nearest surface and just kiss him until they both passed out from lack of oxygen. She always got wet easily when she was drunk, and she could feel herself getting really turned on, and she pushed impossibly closer to him, her hands roaming, trying to get their fill of him, all the things forbidden to her before right now, and speaking of forbidden, she fumbled at his fly, damn dress pants were harder to get than jeans, and she mostly ended up groping him through his pants, but just for a second because then his hands grabbed her wrists, firmly but not too hard, and he was pushing her away from him, which caused her to whine – she didn’t mean to, but she didn’t want to be away from his heat and his smell and his Matt Casey-ness.

“Not tonight, Sylvie.” “Why not?” “You’re too drunk to make this sort of decision.” He paused. “And I’m not the kind of guy who takes one woman to dinner and sleeps with a different woman on the same night.” “She should’ve hit that then, her loss.” “If you really want this,” Matt sighed, but smiled at her, “you’ll still want it when you’re sober. I respect you way too much, and value our friendship too much, to not wait for sober enthusiastic consent. I mean, I always do, would, but especially with you.” “Why are you such a good guy?” She asked, half in complaint, half out of just sheer affection for this sweet, solemn, lovely man. Who was also really hot, hence her half complaint. “But I think I love it about you, you know? You’re good. Not nice, I mean, you’re nice, but you’re not nice like you have good manners and act the part, you’re good. Down to your bones. Do you know that? You’re good down to your bones, Matt Casey, and that’s why I love you. Well, that and you’re hot with beautiful eyes.” “Let’s get you to bed. With some water. I’ll text Cruz, see where he’s at.” “Don’t bother him, he’s with Chloe. Otis will be home at like 3. I’ll be fine. Or you could stay.” “On the sofa.” He gave her a sharp look, as her hands wandered down his body again. She couldn’t help it. He should be touched. She was drunk, but she also noticed that while his mouth said ‘no’ his body was saying ‘yes’ – he liked being touched.

“With me.” She shook her head. “Not like…I respect your ‘no’. Just in the bed.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “You don’t trust me?” “Drunk? Not entirely.” He chuckled. “So you’re good and you’re smart.” She laughed. “But I promise. No roving hands tonight. But I want a cuddle. Just a cuddle. I miss the cuddling.” “Yeah, it’s hard to go back to sleeping alone. Come on, this is you, right?” He gestured to the bedroom he’d led them down the hall to. She nodded.

“That’s me. I’m gonna brush my teeth first. Be right back.”

“I’ll get that glass of water.” She came into the bedroom, unsurprised to find he’d already turned back the covers. He was the type to do that. He was also the type, it turned out, to turn around when she started changing clothes. Which she’d probably appreciate when she was sober, but tonight it was just silly and adorable. She’d let him see the whole show anyway. She was in her PJs, nearly fell into bed, then looked up at him.

“Your turn. Oh, I could get something from Cruz’s room for you-“ “It’s fine. I’ve slept worse.” He shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bed, taking off his shoes from what she could tell and guess. She couldn’t see it, the angle was bad and his shoulders were between her eyes and his actions and oooh, he had nice shoulders. He took off the outer, nice, shirt he was wearing, too.

“Your pants.” She prompted, then explained at his look. “I mean, they’re nice, don’t wrinkle them. I promise to keep my hands to myself, you can take your pants off. Though I’ll be tempted. It felt nice, the like second I touched it.” “Thanks, I think.” He chuckled again. “You know, this sort of thing is easier when you girls crash at a guy’s – I can just give you some boxers and an old t-shirt.” “I could give you my underwear.” She laughed. “I don’t think it’d suit you.”

“Or fit.” He grinned.

“Take your pants off. Unless you’re not wearing underwear. That might be too much temptation.”

“You’ve known me for almost five years.” He laughed, shaking his head. He also stood to remove his pants, and she unashamedly checked out his ass. “If you think not wearing underwear is an option, you don’t know me nearly well enough for us to do this. Or even think about going where all that kissing out in the living room was going.” “You’ve never not worn underwear?” “You have? I mean, gone out with no underwear?”

“Yep.” She popped the ‘p’. “It was kind of a dare. But it felt kind of…naughty and I kind of liked it.” “Damn it.” He blushed a little, but she didn’t know why.

“I was just joking.” She reassured, not wanting him to think she didn’t know him very well. “I mean, I totally did that, but I mean I knew you’d be wearing underwear. I even knew it would be black boxer briefs, plain black, always, and always Jockey. Dawson joked about how predictable you are.” She realized he looked taken aback or something and he was definitely blushing more now. “I just mean I know who you are, Matt Casey.” “Yeah.” “And you are comfy and warm and you smell good and I’m drunk enough to ask so just get over here for cuddles.” “Drink some of that water. I’ll stay until Otis or Cruz gets home, okay?”

#chicago fire fic #brettsey

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nitr0glycer1ne · 5 years

Text

Ducktober/Duckvember Day 8 - Ship

Hooooo there it is!!! Some Drakepad!!! Well, some pre-relationship Drakepad, but still! And also I get to write Lena and Gos for the first time! My headcanon is that Gosalyn is a year younger than Webby (HDL's age), and that Lena "is" a year older than Webby. Gos and Violet are the same age, but Violet skipped a grade. Also I mainly took inspiration from the original Gosalyn, though I did make her a bit more done with her dads maybe??? Please enjoy!

“Uuuuugh!” “What’s going on, Gos?”

The redhead let her head slump on the table, while Webby gave her a puzzled look. It was rather unusual to see Gosalyn look so discouraged; the fiery girl was usually the first to motivate other people when they felt down, and was a seemingly endless well of energy. But Gosalyn had seemed a bit distant since the morning. Since they were a year older, Webby and Violet didn’t have classes with her; but when the three of them and Lena had met up before classes, Gosalyn had already seemed a bit down.

“It’s my dad.” she mumbled. “And Launchpad.” “Are they arguing about whether or not you should be allowed to stay up past nine again?” Violet asked, finishing her yogurt. “No, thank God.” Gosalyn answered, her face still again the table. Lena, who was a grade above Violet and Webby, looked at her with a small smile. “Then come on, spill the beans."

Drake had bonded with her and Violet’s dads, and while she considered him a friend, she also loved teasing him, since he was very easy to tick off.

“It’s just that they won’t go out together! It’s annoying!” Gosalyn complained, lifting her head from the table and rolling her eyes. “They look at each other all lovey-dovey, Launchpad basically lives in our guest room and acts like he’s also my dad, and when they argue it’s like seeing an old married couple!”

She almost added that they fought crime together, but she wisely decided to keep quiet about that last fact.

“It’s true that I did hear Launchpad talking to Dewey about the many ways in which your dad is amazing and looks dashing and stuff for half an hour the other day.” Webby remembered as Lena snickered and Violet nodded in understanding. “It was sweet, but also pretty funny to see the exact moment when Dewey’s face lost all expression. He does that a lot when he’s bored.” “See!” Gosalyn roared. “That’s why I’m talking about! There’s nothing not romantic about that! But when I tell dad that he should date Launchpad, he gets super pissed off!” “Hmm…” Violet lost herself in her thoughts for a moment, gathering them. “Maybe you should try a different approach, if direct confrontation was inefficient.” “I’m sure I could make some sort of love potion.” Lena offered, eating the last piece of her fruit salad. “They’re already in love, dummy!” Webby smiled and affectionately ruffled her best friend’s hair. “But I have another idea, and I’m sure you’ll like it!” “You do? Really?”

Webby nodded, offering her friend the brightest smile she could. Gosalyn couldn’t help but be a little bit scared.

“Ahem. Ladies, thank you for being here today!” “You literally dragged us here right after school.” Lena reminded Webby, who coughed a little. “Details, details, my dear Lena. Anyways, let’s kick off Operation Drakepad!” “Drake… pad?” Violet asked, tilting her head. “Is that a portmanteau of my dad and Launchpad’s name?” Gosalyn asked in disbelief. “That’s so… cheesy. Exactly like them. I love it!” “Thank you, Miss Mallard.” Webby bowed, pleased. “But I’m not the one who came up with the name. Meet my associate in romantic cases, Hueeeeey Duck!”

Like a proud mother, Webby pointed her two indexes at the duckling who was standing right next to her.

“Why does he have to be involved?” Gosalyn asked. She didn’t mind the Duck triplets at all; but she was curious as to why Webby had decided Huey would be, in her words, “a precious ally”. “Oh, because he was the other brilliant mind behind Operation Fendra!” “Fendra?” Lena repeated. “Huey, seriously?” “Hey!” Huey replied defensively. “It was a great name! Short, efficient, straight to the point!” “Silence!” Gosalyn yelled. “Was that operation about making two idiots in love realize that they’re in love?”

Huey and Webby looked at each other, suddenly embarrassed.

“… kind of?” the girl answered. “OK, and did it work?” “Weeeell…” Huey hesitated. “Not really, but we didn’t really have a backup plan for the eventuality of one of them being a spy sent by Mark Beaks to infiltrate Gyro’s laboratory, so it… wasn’t a failure either?”

Lena, Violet and Gosalyn looked at each other in disbelief. Gosalyn was starting to look even more disappointed than during lunch, so Webby was quick to do her best to avoid further damage:

“But there’s no reason it shouldn’t work for Drake and Launchpad! I mean, I don’t think either of them own a laboratory? Or that they’re an enemy of Mark Beak?”

Gosalyn thought back to the time her father had investigated a case involving the egotistical and childish owner of Waddle, but she remained silent. After all, Launchpad had been investigating alongside Darkwing Duck, and there was absolutely no way the loyalty the pilot had towards her father was anything but genuine.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” “Then the plan should be an absolute success, I guarantee it!” Webby giddily promised, although Huey looked a bit more skeptic. “And what is than plan?” Violet inquired, curious. “Will you tailor it to the targets’ personalities and interests, or is it something you can apply to every situation and soon-to-be couple?” “A mix of both.” Huey answered. “The idea is to set them up for a date, and to try to make it a date they’ll enjoy.” “So, Gos!” Webby turned her attention to her redhead friend, who seemed a bit lost, somewhere between tempted by the idea and being in utter disbelief at the somewhat surreal scene that was unfolding in Webby’s room. “What do you think your dad would like for an ideal, romantic, sure-to-sweep-Launchpad-off-his-feet date?”

Gosalyn did have an idea, but she wasn’t sure making the date Darkwing Duck theme was going to help set a romantic tone- it would just be like one of their regular Darkwing Duck marathons.

“It’s really nice for your boss to invite us for dinner.”

Launchpad, Drake and Gosalyn were in the pilot’s car, an old thing that had seen better days but that Launchpad lovingly took care of. The trio was headed towards the McDuck manor, the two adults sitting in the front while Gosalyn was in the back, seemingly innocently reading comics. However, her mind was focused on what awaited her father and his almost-boyfriend that night.

“In fact, it’s almost too nice.” Drake continued suspiciously. “I mean, he does owe us for the heroic help I provided when those aliens invaded us, but still, isn’t it a bit weird for Scrooge McDuck to-” “Daaad.” Gosalyn rolled her eyes. “Geez, can’t you enjoy a nice gesture from an old man?” “Gosalyn is right!” Launchpad nodded. “Mr McD is nicer than people think. He took me in when I didn’t have a place to stay, you know!” “Mmmh.” Drake nodded. “Still…” “You worry too much!” Gosalyn scolded, putting her comic aside. “That’s what too much crime fighting will do to you.” “What?! There’s never enough crime fighting, young lady!” “Whatever. Just… let Darkwing in the car for tonight, okay? Be Drake and have fun.” “Yeah, DW! It’s gonna be a fun evening!” “Launchpad, don’t call him that!”

They had been so busy bickering that they barely noticed they had arrived. Launchpad almost crashed the car when parking it in front of the garage, but the three of them arrived in one piece in front of the manor’s entrance. Out of habit, Launchpad was about to open the door, but Drake gently grabbed his wrist and rang instead. A surprised Mrs Beakley opened them.

“Launchpad? What are you doing here? I thought you wouldn’t be coming back here before Sunday.” “What?” it was the pilot’s turn to be puzzled. “We’re here for dinner?” Drake clarified, suspicious. “The one Scrooge McDuck invited us to?” “Dinner? Mr McDuck hasn’t told me-” “Oh hey, hi Launchpad! Hi Mr Mallard! Hi Gos!”

Webby had sled right in front of her grandmother, offering the trio the warmest and most welcoming smile she could. Mrs Beakley looked at her granddaughter, suspicion growing more and more obvious on her face, but the girl ignored the heavy gaze she felt on her back:

“How wonderful of you to join us for a magical evening sure to please your minds and your palate! Please, come inside.”

Launchpad stepped inside the house, oblivious, but Drake kept looking at Webby as if she had grown a second head. He then glanced at his daughter, but she raised her shoulders, the very picture of innocence. Sighing, Drake followed his friend. When Gosalyn entered the manor, she saw Mrs Beakley was talking with Lena in a hushed tone, looking somewhat displeased but mostly perplexed. The redhead understood Webby hadn’t told her grandmother about their plan, probably because she would have done everything in her power to dissuade the kids from putting it to execution.

And, to be honest, Gosalyn couldn’t blame her.

But the plan was now in motion, for better or for worse. Gosalyn had, of course, been heavily helping Webby and Huey with it; but in the end, the last steps were entirely up to them, and she truly hoped it would succeed. She would never forgive herself if her meddling somehow hurt her father and Launchpad’s relationship; but she truly believed neither of them would do the first move, and that someone had to intervene, for their own good.

She met with Violet and Lena, who had apparently managed to convince Mrs Beakley to let them handle the situation if the way the housekeeper had gone upstairs while muttering “children…” half annoyed and half affectionately was any indication.

“And now, we wait.”

“Woah! Did you change the decoration? The kitchen didn’t look like that last week!”

While Launchpad looked around the room, amazed, Drake felt like he had stepped into one of those trashy novels oozing with over the top romanticism. Every surface available was covered in rose petals and candles, save for the table at the center of the room, covered with a pink tablecloth. Soft jazz music was playing, and strings of small paper hearts had been taped to the wall.

One of the Duck triplets – Drake still had trouble telling them apart, this one wore a white shirt with a red bow tie – greeted them, a napkin thrown over his arm.

“Ah, welcome, welcome! Your table awaits, gentlemen.”

The duckling guided them to the table, which was around two meters away from them, and let the two adults sit down. Launchpad was still looking around, marvelling at the gentle and cosy atmosphere the candles gave the room, while Drake listened to him, feeling a smile blossom on his beak.

It was when Webby brought them a menu, one that only had a single option available – labelled as “Cupid’s Choice” and whose main dish was a plate of meatball spaghetti – that everything clicked in Drake’s head. Gosalyn’s enthusiasm when she had told them of the dinner, the way she had been looking at him and Launchpad all day long, Beakley’s confusion, the ridiculously romantic decoration of the room-

Gosalyn may not have been his biological child, but she was definitely his clever daughter. She took so much after him, and after Launchpad too, now that he thought about it.

And as a complete understanding of the situation hit him, Drake laughed, taking Launchpad by surprise.

“DW- uh, I mean, Drake, what’s going on?” “Oh, nothing, nothing, don’t worry.” Drake reassured his friend, looking at the emerald eyes he could get lost in, noticing for the first time how close their hands were, resting on the table. “I’m just looking forward to this dinner.”

-------

And of course the dinner was a success!! Let me know if I should write it! I'm just weak for the Mallard-McQuack family......... and Webby and Huey's matrimonial agency of sorts... and Team Magic befriending Gos.... I hope I did this pairing justice, it's my favorite DT17 ship!!

#drakepad #drake mallard #launchpad mcquack #gosalyn mallard #ducktales #ducktober #violet sabrewing #lena de spell #lena despell #Webby Vanderquack #huey duck #bentina beakley #mrs beakley #dt17 #my writing #my fics #team magic

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imthepunchlord · 5 years

Text

LfM Ch 13

Ao3

.The school was abuzz when Marinette slipped in, catching bits of conversations as she walked by, a lot of them revolving around Face to Face last night, its first, and last, showing. Marinette got to hear a bit of it last night when Sabine called Nadja, hearing that her boss didn't care for her unprofessionalism and her night ended sour.

Personally, Marinette was fine with that, unappreciating being hounded like that on live tv. And learning that Chat had lied to her, that he was the cause of not only Copycat but unwittingly started that rumor. Marinette was in a foul mood.

Foul enough that she wouldn't meet anyone's eyes, and when even Chloe came her way, taking advantage of Marinette's boldness to walk in the open, she faltered at the angry, frosty expression on her face. She backed off, letting the pissed girl be.

She plopped down next to Aurore, not meeting the blonde’s curious stare. “You ok, Sea Breeze?” Aurore asked, “Why so overcast?”

Marinette paused, taking a deep breath to situate herself. As calmly as she could, she told Aurore, “I found out my other best friend lied to me. And played a part in starting a rumor about us, which isn't true!”

She slammed her books on her desk. “How could he do that? Why would he do that?”

“Sounds like he wasn't thinking.”

“Evidently, “ Marinette huffed.

“Well, there's only one thing left to do,” Aurore said, bringing Marinette’s gaze to her. “You drop his ass.”

Marinette chuckled dryly. “It's not that easy…”

“Then perhaps he should meet my parasol.”

“No, Aurore, its… it's ok. I just need my time to be mad at him, and we'll get past this.” Ladybug and Chat Noir can't afford to have issues after all.

“Well if you need help you let me know.”

“Thanks, Aurore.”

Marinette wasn’t the only one that came in with a fowl mood. Minutes before class started, she noticed the grim Amber when she came in, her comrade Felix trailing behind her, slipping into class in time before it started. Despite Amber’s scowl, Felix gave no indication in his expression about what was wrong, not meeting anyone’s eyes as he walked by.

Marinette felt curious and concerned as she watched Amber go by, tempted to ask but Mendeleiev came, starting class and demanding attention.

One does not refuse Mendeleiev when she calls. And Marinette latched onto her call, more than willing to have her mind focus on something else other than yesterday. When class was over, Amber was the first up, coming to everyone and chatting merrily with them; when she came by them, Aurore watched her tentatively, very much aware that this was Chloe’s twin.

“Hey, you two,” Amber greeted, “my twin is throwing a half birthday party and that means it’s my half birthday too.”

“And you want us to crash the party?” Jean asked, coming to lean on their desk, earning a growl from Aurore.

“If you do, I won’t know about it.” Amber winked. “I’m just inviting my own guests. I’m hoping I’ll see you guys there.” With a wave, she slipped away, leaving the three alone.

“We’re not going, are we?” Aurore asked, hopeful.

Marinette made a face.

“Why?” Aurore asked.

“Chloe hired my parents,” Marinette told her. “I want to make sure she won’t do anything. Actually, I won’t even be here after lunch.”

“What’s going on?” Jean wondered.

“A request was placed for Papa to show Bustier’s class the basics of baking and I’m going to be his assistant. They’re doing it after lunch so no one would be hungry enough inhale all those pastries.”

“Ooooh, you’re going to be in the belly of the beast,” Jean murmured.

“Quite literally,” Marinette sighed.

“Does it really have to be you?” Aurore wondered.

“Yeah. But, there is another goal to this,” Marinette said, hoping that she can leave some destressing tips for that class and hopefully, keep down the akumas. Hopefully.

“True,” Jean agreed, “like, Adrien will be there.”

Aurore pursed her lips, a light blush on her cheeks. She said, “I don’t know… he’s been, rather distant for a while.”

“Well,” Ondine piped in, joining them. “Think of this as a game changer!” She came by Aurore’s side, setting a hand on the blonde’s shoulder, beaming down at her as she declared, “You may win him over this weekend! You’re beautiful, full of confidence, have a wonderful personality; maybe this time, this will be his chance to see you!”

Aurore set a hand on top of Ondine’s, gazing up at her with starry eyes. “Ondine, you’re a gift to us all, knowing just what to say to make us feel better.”

“And give Aurore a swelled head,” Jean muttered, earning a hard poke from her parasol. “Ow.”

Marinette chuckled, asking Ondine, “You’ll be there?”

“Oh, yes!” Ondine beamed, a blush on her cheeks, making her freckles darken. “I’m hoping to have one dance with Kim.”

“Just one?” Marinette teased.

Ondine giggled. “Well, not just one. But, at least one would be amazing.”

“I can do some magic tricks,” Jean offered, “that’ll capture his attention so you can ask.”

“And stick to slow dances,” Marinette advised, recalling her childhood. “He’s a wild dancer otherwise.” She’s gotten enough accidental smacks to know.

“Noted.”

“Alright, I’ll see you guys later!” Marinette called out, waving them goodbye and rushing off. Papa wanted her to drop by at lunch to get all the details for tomorrow. Outside, she paused when she saw Alya slowly coming down the steps, shoulders sagging, glaring at the ground.

Marinette stopped, watching her go, feeling very torn. With a sigh, she approached, watching Alya’s honey grey eyes rise up to meet her.

“You doing ok?” Marinette asked slowly.

“Peachy,” came the dry response.

She felt instinctive hackles rise at the tone but breathed out and relaxed. She said, “I’m sorry that you got a lot of backlash. But… I think it's for the best.” When she got a dark look for that, she continued, “Ladybug doesn’t want her identity revealed, or you—”

“American heroes don’t mind it!” Alya cut in.

Marinette gave her a sharp look. “A lot of those American heroes revealed themselves of their own consent. Has Ladybug ever consented in revealing herself?”

Alya stayed quiet.

“You reveal her identity on your blog, Hawk Moth will find out and come after her, or the people in her life. That’s not worth knowing who she is.”

Alya looked away, her grip tightening on her bag strap.

“It’s also not worth risking yourself like that,” Marinette added. “You’re getting too close to the attacks, and it makes you a liability as Ladybug now needs to watch out for you. I know you got a lot of harsh backlash, but, the whole blog’s existence and purpose wasn’t worth it. It never was.”

Marinette turned to leave, only to pause when Alya spoke up.

“I was starting to suspect that you were Ladybug.”

She froze, turning to the blogger in surprise. Alya watched her, like Marinette’s reaction would give the answer away. Seconds went by as the two stared at each other, waiting for the other to move, to respond. It was Alya who moved first, shoulders slouching as she looked defeated. She murmured, “But, that, that doesn’t really matter anymore.”

She broke eye contact, heading out of the school and heading home. Marinette followed, turning to go to the bakery.

At the end of the day, Marinette learned that the Ladyblog had been deleted.

“You hold the bowl securely with one arm and you stir steadily,” Marinette lectured while her father tried to help Kim with his batch. Lunch was over and Marinette was in this class with her Papa, watching these kids carefully. Her gaze settled on Alya the most, weary of her being upset, the girl wouldn't even meet Marinette’s eyes. But there hasn't been an akuma yet so Marinette continued the lesson, stressing aloud, “It's actually a very relaxing motion, and one I really encourage you all to get into.”

Thankfully, none of them asked about that, all of them more focused on stirring and making sure all the ingredients mixed together. So far, things were going smoothly and Marinette was relieved.

Behind her, Bustier stood attentively, beaming as class actually went well so far, no one causing any trouble. And it would be just a matter of time till it was always like this. Bustier was certain about that.

She glanced at Marinette, listening to how clear she spoke aloud, how her shoulders were set and her head high; despite the appearance of confidence, Bustier could see the tension in the girl. How her eyes flickered about like she was expecting trouble, unable to relax in her class.

Bustier’s heart went out to Marinette. She could only imagine what Mendeleiev was forcing this girl through, getting her out of her comfort zone, breaking that sweet, quiet girl she used to be. Bustier recalled her fondly. She used to be one of the best examples Bustier had for Chloe, always compliant, went along with whatever anyone wanted, never disrupted class.

She had been a good student. While she may seem more certain, Bustier just can't shake the unease coming off Marinette. With one last mournful look at Marinette, Bustier turned back to her class, watching them start to pour into little trays.

Back in Mendeleiev’s class, Aurore sat with a pout. For three years, she had sat alone and was content with it. Then came Marinette and now she's grown used to sharing her desk. It was weird that she was absent from her side.

She sighed, leaning even more heavily on her hand. She tensed up when a body slipped into Marinette’s chair, playful brown eyes glancing her way.

“Jean,” she warned with a growl.

“What? You seemed sad,” he whispered, his smug grin becoming huge, the coming pun barely contained.

Aurore glared at him, daring him to cave and let that pun out.

Jean broke, unable to resist as he teased, “Is is because the princess is in another classtle?”

“Jean.”

“Duparc. Beaureal.”

They both tensed, looking up to see Mendeleiev eyeing them both with a slanted glare. “That’s not your seat, Duparc.”

“But Aurore was lonely,” Jean offered weakly.

“I rather her be lonely than disrupting class. Back to your seat, now.”

“Ha,” Aurore whispered, jabbing after the pouting boy.

Mendeleiev cleared her throat and Aurore faced the front, poised and proper, like a good student should be.

Satisfied, Mendeleiev continued her lesson.

#miraculous ladybug #leave for mendeleiev #different class au

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urflowersdied · 5 years

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cold as ice(d coffee), part two

In which Norah’s super serious, but incredibly soft-looking, café-owning boss Harry might be warming up to her and she is trying desperately to hold onto her sanity.

Read Part One here!

A/N: I am aware that it’s been so long since I posted the first part and that I’ve absolutely failed at my attempt to pull through with my first series, but finally the second part is here. I’ve struggled so much writing this but I’m really looking forward to move onto the third and last part now! Special thanks to my loves @isitjamiemoriarty and @harryfeatgaga.

Hope you enjoy!

Norah was absolutely baffled. Not because she had gotten an amazing night of sleep in Harry Styles’ guest room - after she stepped into it and saw that it looked just as cozy as the rest of his house she had kind of expected a comfortable night’s sleep. Once Harry had quietly left her to her own devices, Norah had set her alarm clock for a different time than she usually would have, keeping in mind that it would take her some extra time to get to her classes due to public transport. Not long after she forced her eyes shut and after getting over the initial iffy feeling of resting under her boss’ roof she ascended into the weird realm of dreams.

But when her alarm blared and Norah awoke to the particular smell of french toast, she felt a little (or rather, quite a lot) confused. On one hand, she hadn’t expected Harry Styles to even be awake at this time of day - it was around 6:30 am -, given that he was basically his own boss and had earned himself the right to wake up at whatever time he fancied. Then again, Norah figured it might be a little unsettling housing a guest that you don’t really know at all. So the fact that he was actually awake quickly started to make sense to her.

What Norah couldn’t wrap her head around, though, was that he seemed to be cooking. Actually cooking breakfast. And she didn’t want to assume anything, but she was also fairly certain that Harry Styles was preparing breakfast…. for her. That realisation alone made her a little panicky. She really hadn’t expected any interaction with him at all, much less a shared meal that was no doubt going to turn out more awkward as opposed to enjoyable.

Once Norah actually gained enough courage to leave the confines of the guest bedroom she entered the kitchen, just to catch a glimpse of her actual boss - she still couldn’t believe whose house she found herself in -, already adorned in his usual soft sweater and trousers combo. The still-wet strands of his hair did not help the weird, unidentifiable feeling rising in Norah’s stomach at the sight of Harry whizzing around his kitchen. Not knowing how else to signal her presence, she cleared her throat, although she quickly figured that he must have heard her footsteps descending his wooden stairs only a handful of moments previously.

“G’morning. Sleep well?”

As hard as Harry tried to sound nonchalant, Norah saw right through his shaky-at-best facade. He was experiencing the same thing as her in that moment: a horrifying degree of awkwardness and uneasiness. Nothing between the two of them was easy or comfortable - especially not after his little fit in the café kitchen a while ago. He had apologised and she had accepted his exclamation, but forgetting about the incident was a task Norah had not yet completed. But in order for this encounter to go over a little more smoothly, she wouldn’t necessarily mind pretending.

“I actually did, thank you once again for… letting me crash.” Nora took a few tentative steps forward and rested against one of the unoccupied counters in the kitchen. Not knowing what else to do with them, she decided to cross her arms in front of her torso. Nonchalance didn’t seem to be her strong suit either, at the moment.

“It’s alright… You hungry?”

About a minute later the two of them sat across from each other at Harry’s small dining table, quietly munching away at the plates of french toast he had prepared for them. Norah wasn’t really sure how to instigate any kind of small talk. The silence just stretched over their figures, dangerously close to actually nestling and finding a home for itself.

And then Harry spoke up, dispersing the cold, heavy feeling of silence with his utterance of a few words. In between some mouthfuls of breakfast foods, he addresses her. “Actually been thinking of adding this recipe to the menu at the café… What d’ya think?”

Norah was grateful for his conversation starter. She took her next few bites with more consideration, trying to actually discern the flavours and textures. His meal tasted good, no doubt about it, but she couldn’t help feeling a little unenthusiastic about the recipe. “It’s really good! Just… maybe… I guess you could try adding some different flavours? Standard french toast is nice, for sure, but… everyone’s got it, don’t they? I really like making them with eggnog for example. Those actually delicious.”

The only reaction Harry provided her with was a small shrug of his broad shoulders, before he let silence simmer once again and went back to finishing his plate. Norah wasn’t really sure what to do with that lack of response. The only thing she was fairly sure of at the moment was that she somehow couldn’t really wait to step onto the train and complete this little side-adventure her life had programmed for her.

The days passed by and everything in Norah’s life seemingly returned back to normal. Her interactions with Harry returned to a seemingly non-existent amount after he dropped her off at the station once they had completed munching on breakfast. She even managed to catch all her trains on time - although this had probably something to do with the new scheduling system, in which she never had to work a closing shift in complete solitude.

Midway through the month of April Harry had informed his employees that he was planning a little renovation for The Brewing Pot. In the team meeting he had described it as “nothing big, just a fresh layer of paint and maybe some new furniture. We’ll also do a little rearranging of the book section and see which ones are left over that we’d like to donate.” Norah was thrilled by the prospect of giving the space a fresh look. There was something about interior design and decorating that soothed her soul immensely. The idea of giving the little shop a makeover just in time for summer brightened her mood immensely.

All of the possibilities of how to transform the space currently swirled through her thoughts, much to the dismay of Adam. “Earth to Norah. Earth to Norah!” A little disoriented, her gaze finally focused on his exasperated facial expression. This was her break for goodness sake, why did he feel the need to pull her out of daydreams involving paints and carpets and plants and…

“Can you taste this please? Harry wants to switch the menu up as part of the renovation and I’m trying to get this recipe down. The last few times I tried it Margot said it sucked and I’m scared he’ll fire me if I can’t figure this shit out.” With those words, Adam slid a plate right under Norah’s nose and if he thought this would be a successful attempt at rousing her from any mind excursions than he was sorely mistaken.

Because now Norah stared down upon Adam’s version of a perfectly decorated french toast and if her thoughts weren’t running overtime before then they surely were now. She had not mentioned her little sleepover at her boss’ house to anymore, least of all Adam. Quite frankly, Norah was a little nervous this information would have set the rumour mill in motion and that Harry’s annoyance with her would’ve returned. She was in no place to lose her employment, especially because she finally started to feel familiar with the store and her colleagues.

So even though she had not been able to completely suppress the little fantasies that crept into her mind on certain extremely lonely nights - because, let’s face it: witnessing Harry Styles stood in his kitchen, wet strands of hair dangling in front of his face and looking incredibly soft and sleepy, yet still sternly serious, was not an easy memory to keep at bay -, Norah had kept all the details to herself. This led her to sometimes feel a little delirious, debating the possibility of the whole encounter being a fever dream, a figment of her imagination, something that had never actually occurred.

Yet, the deliciously sweet-smelling breakfast food that now graced the counter of The Brewing Pot’s deserted kitchen (Adam and Norah had decided to arrive a little bit earlier so they would be able to squeeze in a little gossip session before opening) was a gut-wrenching reminder that Norah hadn’t imagined anything at all. Harry had, indeed, been debating over adding french toast to the menu of his café, and he had asked her for advice. She wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but it sparked a little emergence of warmth in the belly.

To not agitate her friend any further, Norah took hold of the fork that rested next to the plate and shoved a mouthful between her lips. She knew Harry’s recipe already, seeing as he had made it for her himself, but she tried to put on a good show for Adam. Initially slowly chewing and trying to figure out if Adam had done a good enough job on his attempt, Norah quickly grasped at straws to remain nonchalant.

“I’ve actually never made french toast like this, but I think it’s quite interesting isn’t it?” Adam continued going on a rampage about his thoughts on the recipe, explaining to her which ingredients he usually added and how many times a week he actually makes it. But Norah could not bring herself to intently listen to him, rather taking a few more bites of the dish and trying to find her voice.

Luckily, she didn’t need to keep the facade up for much longer as her phone alarm notified her that it was time to open the doors of The Brewing Pot. Adam grabbed the nearly empty plate, searching Norah’s face for any kind of indication of what she thought of his cooking skills. She stood upright and managed to look him straight in the eyes. “I think you did a wonderful job. It tastes great!”

Then, with a small smile gracing her lips and a certain flavour profile resting on her tastebuds, Norah got to work.

Preparations for the renovations were in full swing, with The Brewing Pot being open for its last week before the doors would be closed for two weeks. Norah was looking forward to the breath of fresh air, not only through giving the new look the café would experience but maybe even more through the process of actually renovating the space.

Norah and Adam had offered their services for the paint job that needed to be done and were both excited to ruin some old clothes in the process. Harry had chosen a lovely cream colour in order to get rid of the darker tones currently tracing the walls of the café, which she believed would do the trick in creating a more friendly atmosphere quite nicely.

In the lead up to the renovation, Harry had been a more present boss than before. He’d tried to figure out what the customers and employees cherished about the place as well as which parts could be improved upon. He had even placed a jar on the counter, urging anyone present to recommend some tunes which would create a more comfortable ambience. And Norah would not be Norah had she not made use of this opportunity, filling out multiple little slips of paper with some of her favourite songs which she believed would please workers and clientele alike.

Her recommendations included a range of songs by Paul Simon, Talking Heads, Joni Mitchell and Carole King. Norah figured that oldies would suit the place quite nicely - she could far too easily imagine her boss perusing the four walls of his own store, lightly bopping his head to the rhythms, watering the abundance of flowers present and checking up on the stock of the bookshelves. Needless to say, her little daydreams had not subsided.

It seemed as though Norah’s fantasies weren’t far from reality, though. After completing her temporary last shift, she lingered around the employee break room for a little while longer, trying to pass the time before her train journey. She hadn’t expected anyone to enter the room, seeing as all other present colleagues were in the middle of their shifts. When the door flung open a little bit too suddenly, she couldn’t help but jump out of her skin a little bit.

Norah had not experienced another one-on-one interaction with Harry in the past weeks, nor had she really aimed for it. Sure, he hadn’t really left her mind, but the awkwardness that being around him brought to daylight was enough for her to distance herself if it proved to be necessary. And based on the expression portrayed on his face, Harry had not expected a run-in with this exact employee either.

“Sorry for… bursting in. I was actually looking for Karen but I guess she’s… not in here. Sorry.”

And Norah believe that was that. The encounter was over, she would have magically been spared another memorable encounter - even if those seemed to be exactly that for all of the wrong reasons. She didn’t even try to come up with a way to reply to his flow of words. To her, this interaction seemed completed.

Yet, Harry must not have reciprocated that feeling, because before his figure distanced itself through the doorway it had emerged from, he left her with some parting words. “‘I Feel The Earth Move’... Nice choice. One of my personal favourites. Maybe I’ll put you in charge of the music from now on, seems like you know your way around a playlist.”

It took Norah a few moments to gather her wits before exiting The Brewing Pot and beginning her commute home. Truthfully, her thoughts were all over the place once more. Recently she felt as though she had entered some form of alternate reality. A warped version of the day-to-day routine she had become accustomed to.

On the surface nothing had really changed. She put a lot of work into all domains of her life; academic, professional and social. But she could not, by any means, successfully analyse Harry’s behaviour towards her, which proved to create a little tornado of chaos in her mind and soul. She had been attracted to him on a purely physical level ever since her job interview - there was no way to deny this blatantly obvious fact - but his distant attitude and ghost-like presence had been incredibly helpful to not get caught up in the fantasy world which crushes could create.

But she couldn’t help noticing Harry’s behavioural shift which had recently occured. It was subtle, sure, yet Norah was unable to deny that a wind of change had swept through their relationship - however it could be defined. Harry tried his hardest to make an effort to reverse the damage his outburst had caused, in his own special way. And while trying to avoid a headache leaning her head against the vibrating train window, Norah figured that her hardest task to date would not consist out of juggling university, job and the few friends she had managed to accumulate in her circle.

Rather, she would need to place all her energy into keeping feelings, which were simmering on low heat in her belly, from overflowing and spilling out into all crevices of her being.

The task she had set for herself seemed ridiculously harder to fulfill as time went on, much to Norah’s dismay. During the renovation period of The Brewing Pot Harry had not exactly helped matters. He offered her a handful of tentative smiles, gave her control over the music as promised, and even complimented her and Adam’s painting skills.

A week along, here she found herself; at the re-opening celebration, tending to the drinks station and marvelling at the amount of people that had actually showed up. She didn’t really know anyone apart from a few regulars that had visited the café during her shifts, but it seemed as though all her colleagues were much too preoccupied chatting away with a variety of different folk rather than completing their tasks.

The only figure her eyes could not distinguish in the weavings of the crowd was Harry’s. Him not being present and socialising during this special occasion seemed incredibly odd. But there was not enough time to dwell on his whereabouts, seeing as all the glasses available to her had run out and Adam - who was supposed to take care of all possible dishwashing needs for the evening - was stood in the corner seemingly trying to entertain his girlfriend. This situation forced Norah to abandon her station, grasp as many of the abandoned glasses she could locate and quickly duck into the kitchen.

Her goal to enter and exit as quickly as possible vanished the second Norah laid eyes on Harry’s back. And for only the second time since she’s known him, he seemed all but calm and collected. Yet, she had never seen him like this. She deeply wished Harry would be rude to her again. That he would get a little angry for no apparent reason at all and put her in her place. Because, quite frankly, seeing Harry visibly upset - his shaking frame was enough indication - made her lose the little grasp on reality that she would previously have claimed to possess.

She wanted so badly to do… anything. To speak up and ask what had bothered him to this extent, but her voice had been left in the main room of The Brewing Pot. Norah felt incredibly vulnerable, and she wasn’t sure how that was even possible when she had her gaze fixed on someone who was clearly in worse shape than her. So, of course, because it was just her luck, the building sweat on the palm of her hands caused two glasses to slip out of her grasp and shatter on the floor. “Shit. Fuck. Shit. Sorry. I’m.. so sorry. Fuck!”

With his wide eyes, dishevelled hair, trembling statue and blanched skin, Harry looked like he’d seen a ghost. Norah’s surprise entrance definitely had not helped matters to calm his frenzied mind down in the slightest. She wasn’t really sure how to proceed. There was absolutely no need to ask the standard question of ‘are you alright?’ because a denial from him was clear as day, even without any utterance of words. Deciding to take things step by step, Norah gingerly placed the remaining classes on the nearest counter and rushed back towards the entrance door to the kitchen. And then she locked it.

Even though he probably did not yearn for any company at this point in time, she figured that making sure nobody else barging in was a necessary step of damage control. She had already seen him, there was no need to deny that she hadn’t. Grabbing the little dustpan and brush set out of a cupboard, she cleaned up the mess she had created mere seconds ago and finally dared to look towards her worse-for-wear-looking boss again.

Without saying a word - she had a feeling Harry wasn’t really in a conversational mood anyway - Norah started her dishwashing task. Apparently someone had done at least part of their job for the evening, because she had an array of dirty glasses to clean. After she nearly burnt a layer of skin off her hands, she adjusted the temperature and attempted to skin her hands into the soapy water for a second time, just to hiss once more and .

As Harry gently pushed her to the side and wordlessly demoted her to the drying portion of dishwashing, she couldn’t help but feel elated. If he was still able to assume his role of neurotic boss, then all hope wasn’t lost. And if his following quietly muttered exclamation was anything to go by, then maybe staying around to offer Harry some company was not as bad of an idea as Norah had suspected.

“It’s… someone I used to go out with. I didn’t invite him but I guess that wasn’t enough of a hint. Do you... remember that wedding a while ago? Y’know, when… When I behaved like a total prick to you?”

Of course she did. Norah wasn’t sure she would ever be able to completely forget how she just aimed at making light conversation with her boss during the preparation of a wedding-sized order of cupcakes. But whereas she previously struggled to at least fully forgive, there was now no doubt in her mind that she understood his outburst that day more than she ever thought possible. Not really wanting to disturb his well-needed moment of release, Norah simply hummed and tried way too hard to keep her focus on the dish towel in her hand.

“I’m not really gonna… go into it or anything. It’s personal, you know? But… The things is, I don’t even know why I reacted like this. The relationship ended so long ago. I went to their freaking wedding. But then he shows up here with his wife and I get all freaked out and have to hide in the kitchen like a loser.” Harry swallowed harshly.

She believed him. There was no need not to. She could feel how frustrated he was that there was no rational explanation for his reaction. The man who cherished sanity found it impossible to wrap his head around the confusing and disorienting feelings of a love lost. Even when that love had fizzled out a long while back. But, as a self-proclaimed romantic, Norah wasn’t surprised.

“Listen, I’m not going to pretend like I can… fully understand what you’re going through, right? I really don’t know what it must feel like. And you might not even be interested to hear my take on this. Nonetheless, I think your reaction isn’t crazy. I might even call it absolutely normal.” Harry did not make any attempt to disrupt her flow of words, so Norah continued, growing a little more fervent in her proclamation. “It must just be weird, seeing someone who was a close part of your life now sharing someone else’s, even if you’re not into that person anymore. But it seems as though you were just… genuinely surprised. You’re not a loser, you simply weren’t... prepared for the situation.”

For a while, the kitchen of The Brewing Pot filled with silence. Yet, unlike the encounter the two of them had shared in the kitchen of his house, the situation was anything but awkward. Harry seemed pensive, appreciative even, of the few words of support she had offered him. Both of them seemed to be aware that this interaction marked a shift in their relationship, and neither of them would object.

“Thank you Norah.”

Stood side by side, the two of them continued cleaning up the filthy glasses. All the while, Norah couldn’t help but face the damning realisation that if the warm feeling coursing through her whole body was anything to go by, she was absolutely, utterly fucked.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry #styles #fanfiction #i'm too lazy to tag this as anything else right now i'm so sorry #if you're reading this #thank you #i love you

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shijiujun · 5 years

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History3 Ep 8 Summary - SHAO FEI ADMITS HE LIKES TANG YI

my obsession with tangfei is getting a little ridiculous - i’m writing this as the episode live streams AND OKAY IT JUST ENDED!!!!

*JUST A WARNING GUYS IT’S ONLY 20 MINUTES FOR TODAY’S EPISODE AND WHAT THE HELL THEY KEEP DOING THIS AND ENDING THE SCENE PREMATURELY and today’s was ridiculously short in feel especially - and the scenes just keep changing prematurely as well and the development is a bit too fast? but the good thing is the plot actually moved in terms of everyone’s relationships and also the bad guy’s plots - which we haven’t seen much of until now

i have no idea, let me know when you guys watch it and have any theories! i’ll explain some of mine later below!

also an update on the chinese audience again - they’ve totally adopted shao fei as their son it’s hilarious some of the golden comments translated are (they mean their comments lovingly despite the exclamation marks LOLOL):

“DON’T HURT MY SON!”

“LET GO OF MY SON”

“TANG YI YOU LITTLE SHIT”

“I’M GOING TO TAKE MY SON AWAY FROM YOU!”

“tang yi hasn’t apologised, i won’t be taken in by his gentleness!”

SUMMARY FOR THIS WEEK:

HAHAHAHAHA omg wow this episode is packing a punch seriously it starts off with SHAO FEI’S MANY LUGGAGES AT TANG YI’S HOUSE declaring his intention to stay

tang yi’s reaction: he stares at shao fei as he ALWAYS DOES, as if he’s wondering how this human being ever came into existence you know? and then he says: “i’ll never allow having a policeman around me 24/7″

bodydumb, ah de: “yeah boss, what would everyone say if they realised that you had a policeman following you around?!”

at this point, shao fei as always seems to be on the losing end but WOW JACK IS HELPING SHAO FEI OUT WTF GOOD JOB JACK - basically he makes the case that if shao fei moved in, they could also keep an eye on him rather than let him keep turning up at inopportune times and disrupting their plans - THIS IS A VALID ARGUMENT

Shao Fei is totally pulling the friend card again to stay at Tang yi’s house this is amazing if i got my way every time I pulled the friend card life would be so much easier - in any case, he brings up the fact that he’s “half a friend” and he’s not a policeman in this case, and friends should help each other out?

Jack is SCHEMING HE IS SCHEMING: we haven’t seen much of his scheming so far, so i’m actually quite excited to see how his covert plans all fall into place - he show shao fei a REALLY REALLY REALLY NICE GUEST ROOM

and shao fei just moves in and treats the place as his home like he has ZERO SHAME, YOU GO SHAO FEI! OWN IT! he thanks jack for helping him out earlier and jack is all: “it’s alright, i actually need your help.”

in this case - HELP COULD MEAN 2 THINGS 1. with possibly bodydumb’s alleged betrayal OR 2. with zhao zi OR 3. BOTH!

shao fei calling zhao zi then and asking him to turn up at tang yi’s place to set up a security system or check the existing one - it could be a legit reason i.e. jack knows that zhao zi is good at technology and hacking and what not, and wants him to come and scope the place out, BUT ALSO so he can spend time with zhao zi

the rest of the police team just groans because they’ve got a lot of work to do and with shao fei already stationed with tang yi so they’re one man short, and now they want zhao zi to go over as well? you’ve got to admit that police chief perhaps wanted shao fei out of the picture and OUT OF TROUBLE AS WELL and best case scenario shao fei turns up with some evidence and progress and if not WELL, AT LEAST HE’S OUT OF TROUBLE FOR A SHORT PERIOD THANK GOD HE’S SOMEONE ELSE’S PROBLEM FOR NOW

back at tang yi’s house: hong ye vs. shao fei - who is going to win? OMG hong ye is pulling out ALL THE STOPS she’s so mean - i can understand why but WOW SHE IS SO MEAN AND SHE TOTALLY WON THE ROUND IN A SENSE - she totally provokes shao fei and hits all his buttons by mentioning li zhen jie and insisting that she was a dirty cop, and that shao fei is exactly like her: “it’s no wonder, policemen’s salary is low, they can’t help but be a little greedy” and other things, and we all know how much li zhen meant to shao fei, so he literally TAKES A SINGLE FUCKING STEP AND MOVES TO KIND OF POKE OR GRAB HER-

tang yi comes in at just the right time and grabs him and SHOVES HIM VIOLENTLY backwards and shao fei legit just crashes into the chair behind him: “don’t you dare touch her!”

CAN YOU GUYS UNDERSTAND WHY THE CHINESE AUDIENCE ARE LIKE ANGRY AT TANG YI HAHAHA

anw shao fei is spitting mad, he gets up and goes: “do you know what she said?!”

tang yi: “it doesn’t matter what she said. don’t you dare touch her!”

i expected shao fei to argue, but he’s totally hurt from her comments, and then now that tang yi is indiscriminately shielding her against him - so he just stalks off, the poor bb and just as he leaves, tang yi asks hong ye: “are you okay?”

hong ye: “i’m fine, i was just a bit frightened/startled by him”

cue shao fei’s indignant expression as he hears that and stops by the door, then makes his way outside

LOOK AT BB SHAO FEI STALKING OFF LIKE AN ANGRY LITTLE DUCK

okay shao fei you need to stop being violent towards other people’s property - he is understandably angry and starts kicking the swing outside in the garden

jack is scheming guys he’s totally scheming - HAHAHAHA is he trying to push shao fei and tang yi together it’s fucking hilarious, but at the same time he’s trying to give him cryptic advice? i love it

jack: “hong ye is known to have a sharp tongue and for being blunt”

shao fei: *POUTS*

jack considers, then goes: “unless... you’re not mad at hong ye, but at our boss”

in any case, jack dispenses some good advice - that if shao fei keeps acting based on his emotions, everything they’ve worked for will be for naught

KEYCHAIN MAKES IT APPEARANCE! tang yi sees the keychain that shao fei gave him while he’s packing his desk, is reminded of what he did to shao fei (only just?!!!! tang yi how could you) and then looks out of the window to see shao fei in the garden - wow shao fei how many times you going to pace the garden

shao fei talking to himself and psyching himself up AWAY FROM THE HURT HE FEELS FROM TANG YI NOT LISTENING TO HIM: “it’s only natural that he sides hong ye. they’re so close.” - and then he returns to the house just as tang yi comes down the stairs

they stare at one another, and shao fei is still pissed so he walks AWAY from tang yi, then within like five steps he pivots on his heel and faces tang yi just as tang yi reaches shao fei

tang yi explaining himself to shao fei, I LOVE THIS RELATIONSHIP DEVELOPMENT

anw shao fei opens his mouth and he’s about to say smth but tang yi beats him to the punch and goes: “i know what hong ye said to you. i know what li zhen means to you, and i apologize to you on her behalf”

so shao fei was angry, but because tang yi totally apologised first, he can’t be TOO ANGRY, but he scoffs: “whatever. if the person who said it doesn’t feel sorry for it, then there’s no point for a bystander to apologise”

tang yi: “she is me, and i am her. together the both of us are going to complete what boss tang entrusted to us.”

shao fei: “and this means you can just not listen to me?!!!!”

seeing that shao fei bb is still angry, tang yi does the next best thing - HE GRABS SHAO FEI BY THE ARM AND DRAGS HIM TO THE ROOM HAHAHAHA WE’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR THIS SCENE AND IT IS GLORIOUS

SHAO FEI’S CONFUSED FACE AS HE LANDS ON THE BED?!!!! +100000

wow tang yi how hard did you push shao fei with the bruises and tang yi’s SUPER GENTLE TONE as he tells shao fei to “lie down properly” so he can get his back okay seriously TANG YI HOW HARD DID U SHOVE SHAO FEI BB

ahahahahaha shao fei is totally enjoying the treatment, and he’s TOTALLY okay until he remembers what jack told him, that shao fei actually cares more about tang yi’s reaction than hong ye’s harsh words - and that’s when those BIG WIDE EYES OF REALISATION APPEAR - HE IS ATTRACTED TO TANG YI HE FEELS IT

bad guys turn up - chen wen hao is colluding with another person and chen wen hao is looking for detailed information in xing tian meng - the other guy wants to ally themselves with chen wen hao

OMG OKAY MAJOR PLOT DEVELOPMENT AHEAD: so no ones knows tang guo dong and tang yi’s actual relationship, not even chen wen hao or any of the other gangsters that were previously under boss tang in the same gang

apparently tang guo dong just one day turned up with both hong ye and tang yi, but he only changed tang yi’s surname to his, and let hong ye keep her one surname

chen wen hao has no idea what tang yi is to tang guo dong, and basically asks the other plump dude to show some sincerity and get him some REAL info, particularly tang yi’s EVERYTHING, including his past - chen wen hao and the other bad guy seems fixated on this details, so I’M BETTING MY MONEY ON THIS BEING A HUGE PLOT REVEAL POINT

SO THEORY IS: remember those promotional stills that SHOWED tang yi crying in shao fei’s arms? i think there’s something going on with tang yi’s birth (for e.g. he could be boss tang’s real son with li zhen?!!! OR something similar, something that he didn’t know - but it’s a theory, FEEL FREE TO SHARE MORE THEORIES!!!)

FAVOURITE SCENE OF THE EPISODE: CAR SCENE - tang yi is being chauffeured to the company by ah de, and shao fei is sitting right there next to him and totally STARING AT HIM

TANG YI TOTALLY FEELS HIS GAZE AND LOOKS UP AND SHAO FEI LOOKS AWAY AFTER BEING CAUGHT?! SHAO FEI PLEASE

tang yi, exasperated but clearly quite fond of shao fei: “what are you doing?”

and wow shao fei that was a lousy excuse: “oh! just exploring the car features. wow, does this run on electricity? your car is totally luxury-grade” - and then proceeds to press every button near him!!!!! SHAO FEI GET A GRIP!!!

ah de from the front: “alright you country bumpkin, don’t open the roof window, it’s raining.”

shao fei: “who the fuck you calling a country bumpkin?!!!”

and then tang yi WHO IS JUST LOOKING AT SHAO FEI FIDGET AND MOVE AND RUN HIS MOUTH OFF SO, SO FONDLY, WITH SO MUCH PATIENCE, he asks: “really, what are you doing?”

shao fei, another lame answer that is INCONSISTENT WITH HIS PREVIOUS ANSWERS: “nothing. i’m just looking to see if you’ve got some drinks in here.”

TO WHICH, tang yi helpfully opens the compartment between their seats and comes up with idk is that sparkling water? he is about to pass it to shao fei, and then he-

OMGGGGGG TANG YI HE THEN SO HELPFULLY, SO DOTINGLY, OPENS THE BOTTLE FOR SHAO FEI, AND PASSES IT TO HIM

CUE SHAO FEI’S SATISFIED SMILE

they arrive at the company lobby and tang yi moves into the elevator first, then shao fei wants to follow but he can’t because AH DE AKA BODYDUMB IS A COCKBLOCKER - he refuses to let shao fei go in

AND OMGGG ANDY - ANDY with his lazy outfit but looking fine as hell, he turns up and obviously they arranged to meet, tang yi asks him to come in and he does, leaving bodydumb and shao fei fighting outside of the elevator - TANG YI WHERE DID ALL THE GENTLENESS GO?!!

and fucking FINALLY - we get a scene where shao fei properly kicks ass and HERE IT IS GUYS THE PIVOTAL POINT OF THIS

bodydumb: “don’t think i don’t know what you’re doing! you’re using this as an excuse. i see your eyes when you look at the boss, it disgusts me!”

AND THEY EXCHANGED BLOWS

AND THEN SHAO FEI BABY OVERPOWERS BODYDUMB AND SAYS: “yes, so what if i like tang yi? it’s none of anyone’s business. if you have time to spread rumors about me, you might as well use the time to train your moves!”

YASSSSSS OMG SHAO FEI BB - BURN!

so shao fei bypasses bodydumb who’s lying in pain on the ground, into the lift, and he makes it upstairs (and somehow he knows which floor it’s on?)

anw tang yi and andy are having a meeting - THANK GOD FOR ANDY’S COMPETENCE - he has intel for tang yi, he knows that chen wen hao met someone the night before, and he has found out who attacked and kidnapped him previously

andy slides a piece of paper with maybe a person’s name on it over the table to tang yi, tang yi grabs it, but andy stops him and warns him: “you’re not going to be happy when you find out who it is.”

tang yi is all, okay, but imma do it anyway

he reads it, and THEORY: maybe it’s bodydumb’s name?! - anw he’s super angry and he flings the paper to the ground - we don’t get to see whose name it is, tang yi just keeps repeating that he didn’t think it was him

andy then is all: “awww, don’t be angry, relax” - and he’s so touchy with tang yi ARE YOU SURE YOU GUYS DIDN’T SLEEP TGT BEFORE and massages tang yi’s temples

tang yi is totally into it and he actually relaxes and closes his eyes

which brings me to the point of shao fei being outside the office, and he can see the vague figures of andy and tang yi standing so close to each other

AND THIS IS HILARIOUS - BODYDUMB AKA AH DE arrives, and before he can grab shao fei, shao fei grabs him, silences him and goes: “LET’S GET RID OF OUR COMMON ENEMY FIRST BEFORE SETTLING OUR SHIT” AHAHAHAHAHA BODYDUMB AND SHAO FEI ARE NOW ALLIES BECAUSE THEY ARE JELLY OF ANDY?

and then they just end it there we don’t get the scene where shao fei bursts in and interrupts whatever they were doing

some thoughts:

when is the exact OMG moment when shao fei realises he likes tang yi? i think he realises he’s attracted to him during the massage scene, but how did that go to declaring that he likes tang yi to bodydumb?

tang yi why you keep blowing hot and cold?!

“common enemy” i.e. andy - does shao fei know that bodydumb likes tang yi? this still hasn’t been really confirmed, and how did shao fei know?!

I LOVE GENTLE TANG YI TO SHAO FEI - BOTTLE OPENING SCENE IS A TREASURE

tang yi’s background - any theories on this?

#history 3: 圈套 #history3圈套 #history 3: trapped #history3: trap #history3 spoilers

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starsandsquids · 6 years

Text

The Unexpected Realization

HAVE ANOTHER SASHA STORY BECAUSE GOD DAMMIT DO I LOVE SASHA.

This one’s a little different than the others though. It’s set about 10 years after the events of The Ugly Divorce/Starcrossed Losers. It’s technically set during the course of the story that the boyfriend and I are planning to write with these characters, and the guy Sasha’s cuddling here is his OC, his eventual boyfriend. Anything that’s happened in the gap between stories is covered pretty well here but basically Sasha’s a hardened crime boss now who kinda has a boyfriend. But he still has feelings, like it or not.

This is really rambly tbh and probably has way too many commas but I love Sasha so I’m sharing it. And if you’re interested in these characters we’ll write a full story about em eventually.

Sasha had always had a strained relationship with sleep. He’d been a distrusting child raised in a chaotic environment. A carousal of shifty characters always came through the house he’d grown up in at odd hours, and at the sound of footsteps on the stairs or a door shutting down the hall he would sit up and wait for whoever to pass. It was a habit he’d carried with him and one that’d come in handy when, ten years ago, his now ex-wife had planned to slit his throat in his sleep.

It was because of her that Sasha was awake now, in a way.

Not directly, not this time. Katarina was a bitch but this wasn’t her doing. No, she’d just gotten in his head all those years ago, made him second guess the feelings that now kept him up.

The young man curled up on Sasha’s chest, dead asleep and cradling an injured hand, went by Baby, though Sasha called him a wildcard. He was a wildcard, an uncontrollable holy terror and a pain in Sasha’s neck at that. When they’d first met, Sasha had referred to him as a Tasmanian devil, wreaking a whirlwind of indiscriminate havoc wherever he pleased when he wasn’t angling to get in Sasha’s pants. The plan had been simple enough: let him. If by fucking him, he could point that indiscriminate whirlwind at his enemies before the bomb went off, then Sasha was willing to do just that. He didn’t care.

He hadn’t cared since Katarina and look where that had gotten him. They’d been so young when they got married but he would’ve given her the moon if she’d asked and had even distanced himself from the criminals who’d raised him because he thought she deserved better. He’d loved her with all his heart and the whole time she’d seen him as a stepping stone towards everyone in the underworld knowing her name. He hadn’t cared for anyone like that since.

Except maybe this time he did.

This thing with Baby, it was a manipulation and always had been. That’s what he was good at: reading people, fucking people, manipulating people. He’d gotten so damn good at manipulating people once he stopped caring, and Baby had seemed all too happy to be manipulated. He was so obvious, the way he’d looked at Sasha like he would’ve done anything for his attention. Sasha was more than willing to dole it out just enough to get what he wanted and what he wanted was a weapon, a chaotic and unpredictable one that his enemies, that Katarina would never see coming. It had worked well enough until now.

Until the fight. It had been an ambush, someone pissed at one or both of them had rounded up some friends and decided to get the jump on them. That alone indicated that whoever it was was probably pissed at Baby, since they’d let him get his umbrella. Anyone who knew of him knew that to let him get a grip on his umbrella significantly decreased their chances of walking out of here in one piece. He’d been too distracted wailing on some jackass who thought grabbing him by the braid was a good idea that he didn’t know what was happening to Baby until he’d heard him scream.

The person who’d broken Baby’s fingers had been thrown through a window, the hook handle of Sasha’s umbrella around his neck. He’d been the last one standing anyway, and at that point Sasha had shuffled Baby into his car and hadn’t said a word until he was pounding on Elliot’s door. Elliot who he’d grown up with, who’d stitched him up after his divorce proceedings ended in a knife fight and who knew how to set broken fingers since he’d done it enough times in as long as Sasha had known him. Elliot, who’d just ushered them inside, set the broken fingers, and let them crash in his guest room for the night. Which was where they were now, Baby sleeping like a log like he hadn’t just been seriously injured and Sasha watching one day tick into the next.

The reason he hadn’t spoken on the drive was because he couldn’t say what he was thinking, that that scream had been like a knife between his ribs. In that split second he’d wanted to burn down anything and anyone who’d hurt what he cared about like that. He’d realized he cared, and that was a terrifying feeling. He hadn’t cared in a decade, up until now he’d thought any compassion he had was like an atrophied muscle. It’s what made him so good at manipulating people, and Elliot had known that. That’s why he’d pulled him upstairs after he’d set Baby’s fingers.

“What is this, Sash?” he’d asked. “What is he to you?”

“Elliot—”

“I know that name, Sasha,” Elliot said. “Everyone we’ve caught messing with our shit for the past year or so has said they answered to Baby, and frankly I wasn’t one hundred percent sure this guy existed before you showed up on my doorstep with him. But…that’s the guy who’s been throwing a wrench into our operations? He looks like a doll. What is he, nineteen?”

“Twenty-four,” Sasha corrected.

“Anyway,” Elliot said. “This little shit’s been a pain in our ass that long and you bring him here for me to fix him?”

“You were the first person I thought of who could set broken fingers,” said Sasha.

“The fact that you wanted his fingers set in the first place. Is this what I think it is?” Elliot asked. Sasha went quiet. “Sasha, I know you. If this is another one of your seduce and destroy manipulations—”

“Why would you care if it was?”

“Because I saw the way he looked at you!” Elliot said. “I said ‘this is going to hurt’ and he looked right to you like he trusted you, so if this is a manipulation it’s probably gone on too long. He cares—”

“It’s not.”

“…Excuse me?”

“It’s not, I don’t think.”

“You don’t think?” Elliot demanded.

“It was before but tonight…” Sasha trailed off and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what it is now. I just didn’t want him to be in pain so I brought him here. I just don’t know…” He looked tired and confused, there was none of his normal self-assuredness. That was probably why Elliot had let them stay the night, because he didn’t think Sasha was in any shape to drive and Sasha knew that was probably right.

Baby shifted in his sleep, rolling off Sasha’s chest and onto his side. Sasha was almost afraid to touch him; Elliot had been right, he was so small and fragile looking, especially asleep like this and with his mangled hand. Sasha knew he was tougher than he looked, he’d proved more than once that he didn’t break easily and would say as much to Sasha’s face if he were awake.

Sasha put an arm around him and gently pulled him against him. Baby didn’t wake up, just shifted slightly and leaned back against him, effectively making Sasha the big spoon. Sasha actually smiled and curled around him protectively, nestling his face into Baby’s hair.

So maybe he cared, and maybe it did terrify him, but if carefully placed affection got him a weapon of war, then he could only imagine what genuine love could do.

It wasn’t love, not yet, but at almost two AM he didn’t care. It sounded more poetic that way, and he’d always been prone to sentimentality before she broke him. It was time he got back to that.

#Quinn's OCs and Things #Sasha Dashner #Quinn's Writing

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hoodoo12 · 6 years

Note

Just found your blog and I'm fangirling all over it ❤❤❤ Would you possibly (if you're still taking prompts) write something of my OC Rick C-886 (who is basically an older Flesh Curtains era Rick) and reader? If not no worries ❤❤❤

@wolfwithinher: Thank you for letting me play a little with 886. He’s a cool OC; I hope I did right by him! (NSFW)

⁂

Rock God

The party raved on aroundhim. He sat back and watched it, slouched carelessly over the arms of a chair.

He’d seen it all. Done itall. The group over there, snorting whatever powder was in demand right now?Done it. The couple in the corner, copulating under the lecherous stares ofother people? Cliché. The dancing, the boozing, the crash and burn—he’d been there,done that. The problem was all these other people weren’t wearied of it. Theyweren’t tired and jaded.

It made him a littlebitter, knowing what he did, that he was above it all. He was bored as fuck. Ignoranceis bliss, he’d heard, and he never believed it until recently.

Someone called his name;he barely gave a flick of his eyes in return. Someone else tried to come up,fawning over him; he could hardly resist the urge to spit in their face. Fanswere the worst.

Morty’d tell him fansmade him who he was, try to inject a little humility and appreciation into him.He’d snap back that he made himself, he was the reason fans provided theirlifestyle, even if deep down, the kid made a point. Morty wasn’t here, though:after parties weren’t really for the kid.

Suddenly fed up with theinane debauchery that surrounded him in this room, C-886 stood up. Other peopletook notice, and either stood or called out to him; he ignored them. Telling noone in particular, he said,

“I need some air.”

A few people offered togo with him. The nuclear glare he sent around the room indiscriminately shutthem down, and he was able to get to the patio doors and outside blessedlyalone.

The night was dark andcrisp. There were other people here—no place was completely free of them, on aparty night—but even though the group of them turned and perked up when theysaw who’d come outside with them, any suggestions to join them died on theirlips when the set expression on his face was noted. They huddled togetheragain, smoking.

Once his eyesightadjusted to the dark, he noted another person by herself, near another sectionof the railing. She hadn’t turned to see who’d come out. The smoke thatsurrounded her had a distinctly different odor.

The area wasn’t large.Weighing the options, 886 quietly moved closer to the woman.

At the railing, sheglanced at him but didn’t say hello or oh my god you’re Rick C-886 or anything.She was down to the last few dregs of her joint. She didn’t offer it to him,which frankly, surprised him.

They stood in silence fora bit, while she finished her smoke. The sounds of the party inside weremuffled. When one of the patio doors burst open, it was like noises had beencaged and were suddenly freed.

“Hey! Rock God! You are missing out!” someone yelled.

His lips tightened and hegave half a second’s thought to just walking down the stairs and out into thedark of the manicured lawn. He’d just keep going and going—

“Come on!” someoneinsisted. “You’re gonna want to see this!”

He highly doubted that, butsighed and pushed himself away from the railing. Morty would tell him to makean effort.

The woman he’d stoodbeside glanced in his direction as he moved, and quirked an eyebrow towardshim. She still didn’t say anything, even as he tipped his head to her as hedragged himself back inside. Once there, he could only think about her.

886 was disinterested ineverything, but it had been a long time since someone was disinterested in him.

He had a regular group ofroadies, lackeys, yes-men, and hangers’ on. Most he barely tolerated but“played nice” with. Others, necessary but disliked, stayed as out of his way asthey could. That woman haunted him; he couldn’t seem to get her out of hishead. It didn’t make any sense. She was nobody. Just a chick at a party, andnot even one of the fun ones, with tits and ass hanging out, dusted with K-lax,offering to suck his dick.

He asked everyone who shewas.

No one seemed to know.

It was frustrating.

What was the use ofprestige and money if he couldn’t find out one person’s goddamn name?

With effort, he pushedher out of his mind.

Until the next afterparty. She was there again, flitting around the edges of the room while he was trappedand forced to talk to other people. She made eye contact with him and gave himthe same twitch of her eyebrow and a twist of her lips, then was gone.

The next party he saw herslip through the patio doors again and extracted himself from whatever mindlessconversation someone was trying to have with him. By the time he’d gotten outside,however, she was gone.

At the following party,she was nowhere to be found. It made him sulk and snap at people. A black cloudsettled over him, and everyone left him be. He liked it and disliked it.

It was driving himinsane. He had to know who she was.

Finally, to hisentourage’s surprise, he suggested hosting another party. It had been some timesince their boss initiated something like that, but they weren’t paid or keptaround to say no. Even if it all felt organic, there was planning to be doneand caterers to be organized, the house to be cleaned and everything madeready.

They made it happen. Andonce again, he was sprawled in the same chair, hearing the same triteconversations, watching the same people destroy themselves the same way—drugs,sex, booze—he’d seen a thousand times before. A million times before. This hadto be a circle of Hell Dante forgot to write about.

When he couldn’t stand itany longer, he got up and stalked the room. She wasn’t there. She hadn’t come.He shouldn’t be surprised; no one knew who she was, so how could they make sureshe was present? The cloud of foul temper descended again, and he stompedoutside before he did something he might regret.

He pulled up short whenhe realized she was standing there.

She was by herself, likebefore, against the railing of the patio, like before. She was smoking anotherjoint.

It was déjà vu all overagain.

He walked over to her andgot the same reaction he’d had before: a glance. She took another pull on theblunt and released the smoke out into the wild to twist around them.

886 wasn’t nervous, perse. It had been a long time since he’d had anything to feel nervous about. Hewas well known and popular. People stumbled over themselves to meet him. But standing here, in the dark,beside this silent woman made one solitary butterfly flutter in his stomach,and he didn’t know why.

“Mind if I . . .?” heasked.

When she looked at himagain, he indicated her joint. It’d been forever since weed did anything forhim, but for some odd reason he couldn’t come up with another sensible thing tosay.

She looked down at whatshe held in her hand, pondering it a moment, but didn’t hand it over.

“Shotgun?” she countered.

He raised his eyebrows.Even without his heeled boots he towered over her. He simply asked for a toke,and she wanted to shotgun him? He chuckled, then realized she was serious. Itwas like something a die-hard fan would ask to do to him, for the chance to beclose. But he couldn’t even determine if she was a fan . . . she was a mystery,and his life hadn’t had those for a bit.

His choice wasstraightforward: agree and let her, or give up on the oddly intimate requestand leave.

“All right,” he agreed.

That earned him ahalf-smile, and she dragged on the blunt again while he leaned down to herlevel. While she filled her cheeks with smoke, he moved close to her and tiltedhis head slightly so their noses didn’t brush.

When she’d pulled howevermuch smoke she thought was necessary into her mouth, she caught his eyes.

He parted his lips and she didthe same, in a parody of opened-mouth kissing. Then, as she began gentlyblowing out, he sucked in. A thick rope of smoke coiled between them,connecting them a moment, before he’d taken it all in and she was out ofbreath. He held it in for a moment, letting it settle in his lungs, beforeblowing it out too.

Silence stretched betweenthem. She continued to smoke, steadily reducing the joint to ash. Her refusalto say something, anything, was borderline maddening.

Finally, he’d had enough.No one just stood with him!

“Who are you?” hedemanded, out of nowhere.

“Me?” she replied. He’dstartled her, then she shook her head. “I’m nobody. I just get paid to behere.”

886 threw a critical eye overher. She wasn’t wearing much makeup. Her eyeliner was smudged and her lipstick wasuneven because most of it was on the butt of the joint. Her hair looked okaybut not perfect. Clothing-wise, her skirt was above the knee; thenot-so-flattering shirt she wore slipped off one shoulder. When her bra strapwas exposed—which it was, right now—he could see it was faded.

He snorted a laugh. Shewas paid to be here?

“You’re the worst hookerI have ever seen!” he told her.

Her hand, almost to hermouth for another drag, stopped. She stared at him. As her eyes narrowed, thenwidened, he could see the dawning of understanding in her head.

“I am not a hooker!” she said fiercely. Indignationpunctuated her voice. “My friend Cherry—“ she jerked her thumb back towards thehouse, “—she’s one of the dancers your people hire. I’m her designated driver.She pays me to get her home!”

886 glanced back throughthe windows on the patio doors into the house. Mostly nude women writhed to themusic or to whatever beat was in their head if they were high. Some were inmen’s laps, two were kissing each other . . . all of them looked happy to bethere, which made sense. They were hired to make sure the real party guests hadfun. It was either their dream come true or they got paid, like real escorts.He’d seen their kind a million times. They were dull and homogenous.

But the woman standingout here . . .

He turned back to her andpointed out the flaw in her statement. “DD, huh? No alcohol but weed’s okay?”

Sherolled her eyes and deliberately took another drag.

Hecouldn’t remember the last time someone had the audacity to roll their eyes athim.

“Soif this is a free party, why aren’t you in their enjoying yourself? You knowwho I am, right?”

He hated that he asked,but he had to know if she knew. The question had burned at him like Greek fire.She was so unaffected by the self-indulgence available inside and that made hersomething different.

She looked him straightin the eye—no small feat based on how short she was.

“You’re Rick C-886. TheRock God. Of course I know who youare,” she said dryly, with a hint of ‘duh’ in her voice, like she couldn’tbelieve he was so conceited he was making her recite this. “I’m not inthere—for your legendary party, yes,I know what those are too!—because it’s too hot and loud. There are too manypeople. Everybody’s fucked up and stupid and boring and trying too hard toimpress everyone else. Why would I want to waste time with them?”

It was the mostheart-felt, sarcastic thing he’d heard anyone say in a long time. A hint of asmile lifted his lips as he appraised her again. She went back to not lookingat him, finished her smoke, and flicked the remaining bit of paper out into thehedges.

He held out his hand. Sheglanced at it, brow furrowed, then looked back up at his face again inquestion.

“Want to go someplacequieter?” he asked.

She cocked her head as ifpicking apart his words individually, then, just when it was almost awkward,she took his hand and agreed.

If anyone saw him leadher around the outskirts of the party-goers in the room, he didn’t care. Ifanyone saw her being led by the host to a locked door that led to a privatestaircase, she didn’t seem to care either.

Upstairs, through ahallway where the sounds of the party below could still be felt—whomever wasplaying DJ tonight seemed to think too much bass was better than balancedmusic—and through another door that he had to unlock, 886 didn’t say a word.Neither did she.

Once the door was shut tohis own private suite, all noises from down below were erased. He’d been veryspecific about the amount and quality of soundproofing he wanted here.

With the door relockedbehind them and the blessed silence, she suddenly looked apprehensive.

He didn’t acknowledge hermild alarm. “I know you said you were a DD, but would you like a drink?”

He went to the bar at theside of the room.

“Nothing alcoholic,” shetold him. “Straight up tonic water is fine.”

He was surprised at herconviction, but went behind the bar to the small refrigerator there. As hefound a chilled bottle of tonic water and set it on the counter with a glass,he noted she hadn’t taken another step into the room. “You don’t need to standthere. Come on over.”

She licked herlips—another sign of uneasiness he didn’t miss—then agreed.

Skirting the furniture,she made her way to the bar and stood in front of it, like she was a patron andhe was the barkeep.

“Have a seat.” Was hegoing to have to instruct her in everything? She might be interesting becauseshe wasn’t obsequious, but this could get tiresome—

She eyed the strategicallyplaced bar stools, then ignored them and hoisted herself up onto the polishedwood of the bar, scooting enough onto it her knees were comfortably hangingdown. She twisted a little bit to face him, and took the offered glass of tonicwater. She raised the glass to him, toasted, “Cheers!” and took a drink.

Her hand was shaking alittle. He didn’t miss that either. Pouring himself a vodka, neat, he walkedback out from behind the bar. He didn’t like the separation between them.

Moving to her side, herested an elbow on the bar and leaned against it, close enough to her his bentarm was against her thigh. He could feel her tremble, but she didn’t inch awayfrom him.

She seemed content to letthe silence ride. Part of him was pleased she wasn’t gushing about his latestalbum, or that she’d seen him on tour fifty times, or what the lyrics to thatone song meant to her personally. However, it was a little odd to him shedidn’t want to talk at all; he was so used to toadies he was out of practicewith normal people.

886 broke the ice askingabout her friend who danced downstairs: how they met, how she got roped intodriving, why wasn’t she dancing too—this question made her laugh, throwing herhead back and creating a full-throated sound that made him study her moreclosely; laughing made her prettier—and so forth. Nothing of importance.Nothing he actually cared about.

She warmed up a littleand finally asked about his Morty—his Morty?The query actually startled him. In his presence very few people wanted to knowabout the kid; he tended to eclipse most other things. But she persisted:asking how the boy got his education, traveling so frequently. 886 went into asemi-tirade about the poor state of schooling available, but she didn’t backher stance down. She insisted schooling was important, for social developmentas well as traditional goals.

Scoffing, he asked herqualifications on the subject. She retorted she was a tutor, and she’d seen theproblems some children who were home-schooled had. Not that public or privateschooled children didn’t, she said, but—

Enough of this.

886 stood up straight.Caught in her diatribe, she didn’t react as he left her side and stepped infront of her, between her legs. He reached for the glass she was holding,grabbing it.

“—and there’s no betterway to—what are you doing?”

Her fingers didn’t wantto let go until he put some pressure on them. He set the glass beside his onthe bar.

“Did you come up here toget laid?” he asked directly.

“W-what?” she choked.“Did I what?”

“Because I did,” hecontinued, stepping a little closer, forcing her legs wider.

Now was the moment oftruth. Either she was going to make some excuse and dart for the door, beaghast and dart for the door, or slap him and dart for the door . . . or shewas not going to do any of that, and be interested.

She laid a hand flat onhis chest. He wasn’t sure if it was to stop him or—then her fingers curled intotight hooks in the fabric of his shirt, and he had his answer.

886 leaned forward andbrushed his mouth on hers. She recoiled the tiniest amount at the contact, thensighed and moved into the kiss. It was dry and a bit bumbling, but her fingersdidn’t release him and he could feel the heat start coming off her. Still,after only a few seconds, she pulled away.

Her pupils were dilated and ablush highlighted her cheeks. He knew the signs of arousal and just figuredkissing was off the table. Even if it left something to be desired, it wasn’tthe only thing.

Standing between her legsas he was, her skirt had ridden up high on her thighs. The fingers of one handslipped up underneath it and found the thin fabric of her panties, alreadydamp, in her groin.

She’d become very stillat the questing of his hand.

886 quirked his lips in asmall smile.

“You can go,” he offered.He didn’t remove his hand, and the tips of his fingers found and traced thelength of her slit.

Her mouth slightlyparted, her tongue wet her lower lip. He cocked a brow at her. She moved minutely,scooting towards the edge of the bar as if to jump down off it.

He’d been wrong. Shedidn’t agree to come up here for fucking. A small piece of his ego was a littlebruised. Another part was impressed. A larger piece didn’t care; there wereplenty of women and men one floor down that would fight over the opportunity tosleep with him—

She edged closer, and herealized she was grinding down on his hand, not trying to get away.

“No,” she breathed out,so quietly it barely qualified as a word. “I . . . don’t want to go.”

His lips widened with alarger smile.

He didn’t take her to hisbed, the couch or even the floor. This was a one-night thing, nothing seriousor repeated; he wasn’t one for drawn out relationships. He hoped she understoodthat.

His fingers were chillyfrom the glass he’d been holding and he watched goosebumps erupt on her skin ashe lifted her shirt off her. She shrugged out of her bra faster than he’danticipated—maybe she thought he expected it—and her nipples hardened under hispalms too. He pinched them between his fingernails, making her gasp. When hereleased them to fish for her panties under her skirt, she steadied herselfwith one hand on the bar but the other rolled her own tit, keeping the nipplepeaked.

She shifted a little tohelp wriggle out of her underwear. He let them drop to the floor and left hishand cupping her pussy. One finger slipped into her folds, and she squeaked alittle.

“Do you like that?” 886asked, pulling her forcibly towards him. His torso blocked her from falling offthe bar. “Or, would this be better?”

With no warning orteasing, he pushed two fingers three knuckles deep inside her. She was tightand wet, and her pussy clenched around his digits firmly. The sound she made atthe intrusion was a surprised gasp, not the needy, porn-star quality moan hewould have typically gotten from a groupie.

Oh shit. Was she avirgin?

But before 886 could havethat unforeseen possibility confirmed or denied, she scooted forward again androcked her pelvis hard, impaling herself on his fingers. He may have gotten ananswer without even asking the question.

Grinning, he encouragedher by curling his fingers inside her, stroking the inner wall of her cuntexactly where he knew women liked it best. His thumb also put pressure on herclit. At the combined sensations, she gasped again, a throaty laugh similar towhat she’d done before. Previously it make her prettier, in the context it madeher sexier. From her responses to everything so far, 886 guessed there hadn’tbeen many other people to witness this side of her.

That was rousing. 886 hadbeen with so many people and done so many sexual things having someone . . .unexperienced added an angle he’d not had in a long time.

He grinned again. She waspractically falling off the bar now; if he stepped away she’d have no support.He didn’t. Instead he extracted his fingers—making her groan at the loss—beforeadding a third.

His stimulation had madeher wetter, but the addition stretched her further and she bucked against him.He didn’t relent, however, keeping his fingers deep inside her even as shesquirmed. Her sounds took on a much more desperate tone, and when he fondledher g-spot again with three fingertips, she came in a rush that seemed to takeher by surprise.

She squirted, coating hishand down to his wrist with liquid. Her breath was quick little pants, she wasshaky, and when she was finally able to open her eyes again she immediatelyapologized.

“For what?” he asked inreturn.

“For-for making a mess,for this . . .” she replied, trying to move back, move away.

He didn’t let her,keeping a tight grip on her thighs.

“The wet? It’s nothing.And you’re sorry for coming on my hand? Shit, I’d be insulted if you didn’t,”886 told her in return. “Now, the question is . . . what are you going to dofor me?”

She looked up at him insudden concern. She was sweaty and flushed. Her skirt was rumpled. She’d hadone orgasm and looked spent. The immediate area smelled like sex. He wassuddenly, suddenly completely aroused by this situation. Truthfully, he hadn’texpected to be this turned on by her.

“I’ll do . . . anythingyou’d like,” she said.

That sounded more likesomething a fan would say. They’d say anything, do anything for him and to him.It was boring. He liked her better disinterested and green.

“Will you?” he demanded,abruptly. It was harsh. “Will you let me fuck your throat till you pass out?Will you let me fuck you in the ass? Will you let me invite ten other people uphere to wreck you? Will you let me tie you up and leave you here until Iremember to come back?”

His burst of anger didn’tmake her inch back from him, but it did make her lose the look of concern. Inits place was an expression of annoyance.

“Is that what you want?”she spit back. “It is really what youwant? I already told you I’m not a goddamn hooker. If those things are what youwant, then find somebody else, Rock God.No, I won’t do those things!”

After saying her piece,she moved with real determination to get off the bar.

He held her in place.

Her annoyance didn’tdissipate. She actually scowled at him.

886 laughed. Pure,unadulterated laughter. It’d been a while since someone seriously told him noand was annoyed with him—to his face. He loved it.

His mirth didn’t seem toreassure her and that scowl got deeper.

“I don’t want you to dothose things!” he tried to reassure her, between chuckles.

The expression on herface only softened a little.

“I have a million peoplewilling to do all that, and more,” he continued. “I don’t need that from you.”

She still lookedskeptical, but stopped trying to get down from the bar. “So then, Rock God,what do you want from me?” Her tone was much less sarcastic and angry.

That was an excellentquestion. For starters:

“Give me a kiss. A realkiss, not that dull, chaste shit from before.”

He watched a calculatinglook crawl over her face, then she shook it off and agreed.

This kiss wasbetter—still not great, still not sublime, gusto didn’t equate to better,necessarily. But it proved to him she was willing to give back. Within reason.

He fucked her against thebar. He liked that position, her holding onto him while his cock was buried inher, but it didn’t allow for much movement and at his age, more stimulation wasbetter than just being balls’ deep inside her pussy.

In the end, he let heroff the wooden bar, then bent her over a stool and took her from behind. Itgave him a pretty view of her skirt hiked up over her ass and of the elaboratewatercolor tattoo of a poppy field inked across her shoulders. She seemed toenjoy it too, from the keening moan when his cock filled her—three fingers werenothing compared to its girth—to the little gasps with each thrust.

The particular stancealso put him in line with her g-spot again, and with a little extra attentionto her clit she came again, soaking the tops of her thighs. The wet made itslicker for him and he didn’t last much longer either.

886 pulled out and jerkedhimself off to completion in his hand. If that was unusual or unexpected forher, he didn’t care; he certainly didn’t need to get a random chick from ahouse party pregnant and then have to deal with anything else that it couldentail!

To clean up he offeredher his bathroom and whatever she needed in it. When she fretted about the messshe’d managed to make on the floor—and bar, but he didn’t point that out—hetold her the cleaning staff would take care of it. He didn’t add they’d seenmuch worse and were paid well to keep their mouths shut.

She accepted anothertonic water, then, realizing the time, told him she’d have to go downstairs andmake sure her friend was okay. Her shift would be over, she said, and shedidn’t know if Cherry was going to want to stay past or not, depending on howthe guests were . . .

He read between thelines, didn’t say he was well aware of how the hired girls worked, and took herback to the party.

It was slowly fizzlingout.

She gave him a kiss,European-style, on each cheek as someone else noted 886’s return and wanted hisattention.

“Thanks, Rock God,” shewhispered to him. “Should be Sex God, probably.”

He flashed a smile ather, pinched her ass, and then she used the other person wanting an audience ascover to slip away and search for her friend.

886 watched her as longas he was able, before his attention was dragged annoyingly away. By the timehe was able to look for her again, she was gone.

She never returned to anyof the other parties held at his place. He casually asked about a specificdancer named Cherry to the people who hired them; nobody could pinpoint who “Cherry”was. He was told gently, like it was surprising it needed explaining, thatthose dancer chicks never used their real names and weren’t really smart enoughto use the same name twice.

He never saw her again.

fin.

#fan fic #fanfic #Rick/reader #OC RICK

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amidalogicdive · 6 years

Text

I was tagged by @geekgoddess813 who was interested in hearing what I would say lol. IDK why, I'm such a pleb asdfghjkl XD hahaha! But, I did it for you!

Instructions:

To celebrate a year of FFXV and the end of the first year of updates, let’s spread the FFXV love! I haven’t seen a tag meme like this for FFXV yet, so I decided to make one. If you see this and want to, copy/paste this list and share what your favorite things about FFXV are.

Favorite Chocobro:

Oh, my god, this isn’t fair, so I can’t say Nyx?! Lol, ok no seriously. If Noctis counts, he’s my favorite. If it has to be one of the other three, it would be Ignis. I’ve always loved Ignis and (fun fact) before I was a huge NyxNoct shipper, I was an Ignoct shipper. If ya look back I have a few Ignoct fics...that I still need to finish. >.<

Favorite Guest Party Member (including Ravus and Libertus from DLC):

Oh damn, this is hard. This is really hard, I’ve deleted my response like three times cuz I keep on going ‘oh but what about…’ Ugh, do I have to pick, can I plead the fifth? Ugh fine…

Ravus - Because I loved getting more backstory on him. This poor boy was so wronged, and while he did come off as an ass, everything he was doing was for Luna.

Aranea - Girl got some sass and I love it, she was fun to listen too and I’m glad she was tossed into a DLC as a guest party member. We needed more Aranea in FFXV

Cor - Damn son, I love this man here. I need to know more, I want more backstory. Seriously, he got the respect of Gilgamesh!! GILGAMESH TALKS ABOUT THIS LITTLE IMMORTAL LION! *flails*

Yeah, I couldn’t pick :P

Favorite Minor Character(s):

Can I pick two? CAN I?! Biggs and Wedge - Ok ok, they weren’t in it a lot but I loved them. They were funny and their loyalty to Aranea was just, ugh. I really liked them and I wanted more of their back and forth, especially with Aranea lol. When she asked them to drive a train into a daemon-infested city - which was basically a suicide mission for all they knew and they are just like, oh that's all? Yes boys, yes!

Favorite Villain:

This is so easy, frikin Ardyn ‘Trash Jesus’ Izunia. What, you didn’t hear me, let me repeat: ARDYN ‘TRASH JESUS’ IZUNIA. Ok, let me explain something here. This boy, this BOY WAS SO WRONGED. He did everything that was asked of him, and what happens? He gets fucked over by his brother, the crystal changes his mind and the gods - not only do they turn against him, but they won’t even let him pass on into the afterlife. Dragonbutt needs to get some balls, but damn son, you did nothing! You caused this problem to happen!

This man had 2000 years of suffering, hatred, and betrayal built up inside of him and he went off the deep end. Like he said, it wasn’t even about Noctis. He was just the poor sap that was born to be the King of Light. This was revenge against a crystal that denied him and the gods that turned their back on him. And you can see it, you can see he’s still hurting, you can see there is a good man that’s been tainted by thousands of years of torment. When he tells his story to Noct, you can see the pain, and when Noct beats him, you can see that he thinks Noct’s going to do the same thing the Gods, Crystal and his brother did. Erase him. I love this trashy man, and I can’t wait for this DLC.

Favorite Kingsglaive Character:

No Surprise: Nyx. Do I really need to explain why? He’s an amazing, cocksure, humble, hurting little ball of fire that fights like the daemons and just makes my heart do weird things in my chest. This man is so frikin badass, even the Kings had to bow down to him and let him take charge. This dry sense of humor and self-sacrificing nature is just asdfghjkl and though all of it he never forgot who he was and what he was fighting for. Like he said, his life means nothing but giving a future to those who wanna see it is everything. Oh, baby, your life is everything, and he deserved better, damn it.

And don’t even get me talking about the fact that three, THREE frikin people put on that ring (four of you count Luche, but eh…) and all three asked the Kings for their strength and two of them for sure (Nyx and Ignis) offered to sacrifice their life and only NYX FRIKIN DIED.

No, don’t get me started - cuz we are talking more salt then the dead sea here… >.<

Favorite Astral/Divine Being:

Funny thing, I have always loved Shiva since like FFVIII. She’s my Queen, I bow down to her… but before I realized that Gentiana was Shiva, I was in love with Gentiana. When I saw her in clips before the game came out I was thinking: Woman I don’t know who you are, or what your role is, but please I love you. Her being Shiva, my Queen, my everything… that just made it even better. Lol, so obviously - Shiva.

Favorite Character Overall:

Noctis. He is a very self-sacrificing and strong character who goes through a lot and honestly, finds his courage and self-worth. I think he had a lot of issues before, I think he was depressed and didn’t feel like he was right for the throne, and he was just playing a part. Once he was out there, once he realized what had happened and that he was now King, things changed. He because braver, and stronger. He started putting his trust in others as much as they put their trust in him. He realized that he didn’t have to do things and save people for the recognition, just doing was enough. You can see the impact that it had in comrades, where people (just random NPCs) talk about a boy or four boys in black who saved them, or helped fix their car or did some random act for them and how much it meant. He goes from a kinda sheltered boy to a King who knows what sacrifice is. I love his change, and how he keeps going. Like he told Iggy, they can’t stop, they have to keep going or everyone who sacrificed their lives for him, it would be pointless.

Noct is a good boy. :3

Favorite Weapon:

Nyx kukri that you get in Insomnia, oh don’t act like you’re surprised lol. Noctis always has them on him and I use them a lot.

Favorite Location:

Omg, so many people are gonna disagree and be like: What?! *flails* - I like Altissia lol. It was confusing at first, but now I know my way around pretty well, and I love the 3x exp from the hotel. >.>

And I love the arena and gambling lol, and that was the first time I head the whole “this place is so romantic” “And you're here with us, all three of us, you are a lucky man” and about died. Lol

Favourite Quest/Questline/Hunt:

The fishing questline. Hush, don’t laugh at me… I honestly really love fishing in this game and I loved the fishing questline with Navyth.

Favorite Boss:

Ardyn, lol. He’s such a shit and I love to listen to him shit talk Noctis as they fight. Ifrit was a good fight too, so kudos to that fiery SOB. lol

Favorite Monster/Monster Family/etc:

Tonberry, I’ve always loved Tonberry with their cute little lanterns and their stabby frikin knifes. They are small, cute and ruthless. It's like that scene in Monty Python and the Holy Grail “Aww it's just a little Bunny Rabbit…. RUN AWAY RUN AWAY!!” Yeah, Tonberry! :D

Oh, and Coeurls. Just cuz I like cats and much respect for something that can one-shot me with lightning from its whiskers lol.

Favorite Song:

Please like I can pick just one… So like here are my top whatever:

Nox Aeterna: So short but so much emotion. Nox Divina: Badass summoning music, yes, please! Noctis: It was not what I was expecting, and it was a very pleasant surprise! Prayer De Luna: This is just asdfghjkl she’s got a beautiful theme and ya gotta respect it. Dewdrops at Dawn: So beautiful, simple and just all the feels. Just makes me think of the people seeing the sunrise after such a long time, or for the first time for some… and realizing what Noct gave up for them. Somnus: The original, the beauty that it is. This song is a godsend, I love it and I love her voice.

Favorite Boss Theme:

Does Somnus Ultima count? I mean its basically the second part of the... fight? Damn, I love that song! Ok if not, Magna Insomnia is epic, and love it. Also, Hellfire, damn that opening (the first like 18 seconds) sounds so ominous like wtf did I get myself into here lol.

But honestly, all around this soundtrack and all of the music is epic - honestly, there is no song I hate, except maybe Stand By Me - but only because it makes me FEEL THINGS PPL SJHAFKLHSJ!! Just kidding I love it too. ;-;

Favorite Non-Episode DLC/Update/Event:

Assassin’s Festival was awesome and I want them to put the whole roof thing into Lestallum full time so we can run up there and have fun lol. Think of all the NPC’s and shit they could put up there and quests they could add. Yes, please lol.

Favorite Episode DLC:

Ugh, ok. It’s a toss-up.

I love Episode Ignis because it adds so much to the story and the alternate endings, yes, please. I love that SE made the end of this game so transparent and said that the ending of the main game was simply an Alternate Reality, something that could have happened. Now they start tossing in all these other endings and you realize that one choice, one thing did differently could have changed the whole outcome of the game asdfghjkl. I know some don’t like it, but like Episode Ignis said: Possibilities. And I love those possibilities.

That said - Episode Prompto, and him finally finding out who he was, dealing with it and coming to terms with it. Finally having the courage to tell his friends, look this is what I am. Not only to see them accept him but for him to accept himself… it was great!

Other Favorites of Note:

I love:

flying the Regalia, except when I crash and kill them all.

hitting the breaks when Noctis is sitting on the trunk and seeing him getting all pissed off.

the fishing and I need to catch them all.

the shit talking they do while fighting

the new character switch during battle and the geeky things they do and say.

just driving around and listening to the soundtracks.

the pics that Prompto takes.

Idk, there is so much to list. I mean is it a perfect game? No. But do I love it and do I enjoy playing it? 100% Yes.

Anyway, I sometimes like all the plot holes that they leave all over the place. Perfect for me to build a fic around and let my own imagination inspire me. I haven’t loved a Final Fantasy game like this in a long time, and I'm glad that I do. It made me meet some really nice people and fall into a perfect little life raft of feels that makes up the NyxNoct fandom!

So, let's see what y’all gotta say now. I tag (and you don’t have to do it lol especially if you already did!): @prettyprompto @aithilin @courtingdestruction @grimmvertigo @jazzraft @midnightpyres @rsasai @argent-the-moderately-useful @ghostl0rd @ignoctgirl @cardigan-carm @glaivenoct @nicolareed @nicrt @stylishchocobutt @bezier-curve

#thanks for the tag!#look I tag ppl too #logicdive rambles #yay I finished it #this was fun lol #ffxv #ffxv talk

13 notes · View notes

ubelyptus · 6 years

Text

soooooooooooo bb,,,...,.,,,strawberrry.

......I JUST FIND IT

interestinggggggggg

how you Big mad cuz MY block game seeems

skrong or summn

hanh???

oh.

well.

i never blockedt you

on snapchat

or whatsapp (you weren’t even muted),

yup, i still haven’t

but i didn’t have a properly working phone...

still......don’t

but either way you keep threatening to split on me

like a weapon…fcking

manipulative as shit

it just seems to me that you just want to?

you never imprinted tho

but she did

so why should you?

i won’t ever, again, fight....

….with you.

my favorite accomplice

i wanted to learn with an open mind

even after my phone died

how to remain soft with you.

even after being callled

“old news"

pffft

at least until

i ‘m eventually murdered by a cisgender man...

but

don’t fckn

pppppppop shit

cuz like….. literally…..all i did was change my url.

shit, i Only blockedt you AFTER i saw you referencing gaslighting.

bc uhmm IIIIIIif that is about meeeeeeeeeeee

ha!!!

how fucking dare you.…..lyk....wuhh?

like when you said there is no difference between syn and alesia?????

HANH?

oh, but you think i blockedt you first bc i didn’t wanna get my feelings hurt?

….mhhhhhhh. ok.

seeems odd since you’re not liar

right, eli????

but,,,,,so what’s this about the cozi password change? am i just shifting too rapidly between your and my reality???

bet.

no, i blocked you on things after THAT

AND THAT WAS TODAY

oh, and didn’t your friend, my so-called “fighting buddy,” anan…

.just,,,,,fckn block me like i’m useless

trash

randomnly

after all

i asked

was that they

not speak to me

about you?

but YAAAAAAS twas ONLY Me and simply Myself and just i

who ain’t wanna get….hurt.

hanh?????

oh ,

obvi,

yeaaaaaaa

yeeeei

truuuu,

sooooo

sssssorry,,,,but

calling me “old news” or saying i’m “old too”

don’t forget your girl is 2 yrs older than you

and then staying silent for these few days about changing passwords

that..... already did that, boo

at least i sent alesia third party emails thru the app, boo

she pushin 30 and can only talk you

venuse....????. no....a

talking and

w a l k i ng tragedy

entyway don’t bring that up just to be loud and wrong about that too

you’re not always wrong tho, you know

you’d probably fuck up and slit my throat

powertripping

when i’m wrong about you

and you can only do that if you

black and white

me out

to NEVER BE WRONG

AND I DO

ACTUALLLY HATE THAT ABOUT YOU!!!!!

WHY CAN’T I EVER BE WRONG, ELI????

WHY????//

OH your emotions....? about your father that after 6 yrs you didn’t tell me about?

your reality? when you have a habit of projecting?

and lowkey being dishonest

to yourself first

and then subsequently

to me????

your time? when i’m mostly on yours?????

your efforts? like ripping up notes and telling me

“my turn” to get fucked

by you

was over

when the only reason i was tiredt

was bc i crashed

too tiredt after explaining to You

that

i‘m not even going to LET you play middleman

for a baby pushign 30????

oh. bet.

but since we’re being transparent:

here are receipts with timestamps:

http://microhealer.tumblr.com/tagged/hop-hop-hop-hop

http://microhealer.tumblr.com/tagged/hop+hop+bun

http://microhealer.tumblr.com/tagged/hop-hop-bunny

yea you must love dirty laundry

oh.

but that’s what i knew about you.

oh:

be yr own guest my love

i Knew you would ignore the “old news” message since that's literally when you started telling on yourself

you do treat trans partners

like side hoes,

thasssa wholeBET

and some change

for you to create

cuz thassssssss

how you feel about me fr fr

so that “like” is mine but

i…..actually really Really love that you laughed tho.

bc i haven’t heard you fully belly laugh in a long time.

if ever iirh.

even after knowing you for 6+ years,

your supposed “first friend “ in the DMV

the person i can trust my life with

the only

you’re my only...

,,,,,even after i spiraled

and cut myself for the first time since middle school?

now my friends are fucking spotting you

and talking to each other

about you

oh, you didn’t know.

but i got mehndi done today

let a summer baby boy

love

a cut up

by me

body

before noon

today

thinking i’d see you and we could talk like,,,,

…..like real people do.

and you’d be distracted by the design and not zone in

on the failed cuts

on my wrist

since i’m shit at not just repeatedly carving into

white meat

when i can only use a ceramic blade

i just didn’t WANT you to

so i never “came home to [you]”

you said that on nov 4th/5th of last year

and

i’ve been looking up bpd all day

eventho i told you

i don’t trust the internet

sooooo you not telling me

didn’t hel p

but it’snot at all your job to

and i sitll

stilllstil stil stilllca’t see

....and i dind’t want you to see.

bc i’m not just a man.

i’m still femme

which you seem to love to forget

and still soft enough, i think.....

i hope…..or learning to be soft,,,,

where it won’t get me killed,,,,,

but where it still counts.

with…or without you.

either way i’m a man who loves you. a man whose phone died at 28% trying to get you to see that i was trying to be soft even after you called me

“old news”

but,,,,,.....,,,compared to …..who?????? sh....oooo??????

your new girlfriend who is 1 or 2 years older than you?????

and can’t speak to me

a man who is only barely out of 23???

and instead only whispers

to you?????

bruh, she’s clearly not fond of me.

and you’re not a liar ,

so don’t

she had to tell you that she wasn’t the one putting out “aggy energy”

specifically

during yennayer which

i ruined

and im still sorru

but which means

she’s probably done it in your apartment on purpose already, boo

didn’t think of that, did you

lingustically.,,,,,nope.

oh, but there’s power in a whisper, darling.

i am just cardinal like you

i am air too.

i should know

bc i accidentally whistled....and,,,,,,

i only blockedt you so that you wouldn’t “hurt [your] own feelings”

like you told anan you sometimes do.

sooooooooooooo yea... i

did it so you wouldn’t hurt you.

as cardinal water/pisces moons

are prone to do.

you can;t drain

and you can’t drown

ain’t that how i affirmed you

i already hurt me

when i dissociated

and i’m STILL FUCKING sorry

that there was blood that you had to see.

i couldn’t stay in my body long enough to clean fast enough

but i still didn’t want you to hurt you bc of me.

like you did repeatedly

bc of bpd or bc of basically cishet or at least cis ~queer girls

or other partners

like when you were with kat,

who’s still disgustingly attached to a messy white

and now a new black kid.....

or with shushoo.

and how you might with alesia.

no, correction: how you have with alesia.

how you will continue to, if you’re not careful, with alesia.

you’re a lion facing a prince of a house kitten ,....,

.,, who is homeless.

do you feel good, big boss?

all i asked was for you to listen t

o how you were speaking to me

on the phone

at your place of work

and when she’s there

possibly a place of worshiop

..... even after i told you

that i was intentionally putting energy into Not fighting you

and you

say you

"don’t wanna be a middle person"

but you also….wanna cape for yet another fucking cis girl.

who isn’t even muslim this time.

HOWtragic.

i couldn’t laugh

couldn’t ever laugh at sway

bc by whatever fortune if you do split or don’t

i still love you

i love you too much

but in those moments after that phone call….

after my phone died…

and my body couldn’t move to charge it.

wouldn’t move….

and all i could do was cry during the adhan.

bc you’re tooo much like matt now

i wish i knew what it could feel like to

hate someone

who called you

"OLD NEWS”

compared to a bitch pushing 30

youza WHOLE fuckn clown, dawg.

matt did this same shit

move me out for a new side bitch

yet anotehr cis

look at how cute trans love can be

no,

this is what you give me:

laughter.

BC what fucking luck.

BUT IT’S gotta be TROOF

s ince you don’t lie?/?

shit I LAUGHED TOO:

it sounds like….

NEITHER OF US

KNEW WHAT COULD

HAVE BROUGHT US

HERE, ELI.

maybe you nursing poison in your own home

and telling me i’m making you feel unwelcomed

on a blog and not to my face did it

fuckingggggggggg. why’ald.

you think it’s too much sweat????? false.

that apartment stayed cold.

too many tears?

ok ok yea troof.

but too much love? forreal?

we?????

ooooop

hoooop!!!

oh, you speakin’ french now. our collective colonizers tongue in 20gayteeeeeeeen?????

CAN’T RELATE

bc I’M TOOOOOO GAY

wow. we ruined it, fam???? fr fr?

nah, chosen fam.

you ruined us.

you ruined us over:

a cis girl and

your own impatience

and your own anger.

and my slow brain and my slow body

i’m not sure she’d find you from maryland

if you dissociated bc your other semi

but not

girlfriend emotionally abused you

until people who didn’t know you were muslim

thought you were fucking drunk

and you fucking stilllllll

work with her?????

why couldn’t you just wait until she found a new job???

ain’t she trying????

or izzzzzz she??????

hahhnh???

where was the damn rush?????

you’re like two goofy high schoool kids

reaching for the quickest nuts every 6 hours

like jesus fuck.

you’re irresponsible as shit telling me i’m a grown man making grown decisions and i see this

?????

unREASONABLE, ELI.

this isn’t a situation of a kettle calling a pot black

babe

bc i’m actually Black

and you’re not

but she’s black too.

what did i tell you:

"you datin’ two whole Niggas. if you fight me over her, you will lose either way.”

but instead you called me “obtuse”

SAT words for me

but not for you…….what.,,,.,,,,,,,, fckn luck……..

what luck,,,,,that the one person who housed me consistently

and kept me alive

when i trusted no one

would call me "old news”

and let their cis girlfriend

turn herself into your

personal "healing” …...

sibkid. \\\\

howTragic like all of CC’18

you know what happens when you slip and get sloppy and let a baby bitch be responsible for your healing?

she leaves.

for a real bitch

with microhealing abilities,

GOOFY.

she worships a new goddess every friday?????

well, i know only of orixas

and only of black power

but from what i know of goddesses OFF of OUR continent…

soooon...

at least one of them WILL want a soul from her

just letting you know it might not have to be hers.

…..OH!

and when i chargedt and openedt my phone after days of wandering. ….the last messages from you are:

YOU SHOULD HAVE SAID “LEAVE [[[[MMMMMYYYYYYY]]]]]] KEYS”

like a fucking baby.

imagine that.

even to you, i’m still a whore.

out…the…bakc….dooor.

??????

i couldn’t even work a john when i wanted to

if i was sad about you.

but imagine?????

a cis-pixie woman older than you

letting you treat her like a child?????

then

imagine me feeling shamed into leaving

bc of pictures of your smiling face

after i cut myself and felt shame

that

in your unwelcomed to both me and you

BLOOD

blood

is what brings me back

to life.

how.

fucking.

why’yald.

i blockedt you so that you didn’t lurk.

bc THat is what you do.

instead of speaking with me,

you seem to have expected me

to read your blog back 7 years.

and just know all of the fatherly things that trigger you.

like…even during the times when i was afraid of my own phone and laptop for 2 months bc of my sister, brother, and birth parents????

funny how i’m the youngest of us “grown folks” and yet still find that really

FUCKING

immature.

of YOU

to do

you really never knew me, or did you…..??

you donated to me before you even knew me.

so i know your heart has parts made of gold.

but now you show off your crystals and your gold.~~~

yep.

here we are.

you’ve "only every seen [me] as a boy.”

ok. bet.

and unti this post:

i’ve hardly heard you refer to me as a man.

so:

ain’t you late?

ain’t you late, babe??

ain’t you late?

i’m a year younger than you.

which means if you grown

i musta BEEN a man too, boo.

but you’ll always be

my favorite accomplice

and always be my favorite friend too.

but you cannot think you can play me by calling me

“old too” or “old news"

for young fish who is basically femme trade

and thinking i won’t cut open a fool.

which coincidentally always happens to be me

she’s hardly out to anybody important and lying at work too.

i must be bigger fool.

bc you knew better and didn’t do better.

but i’m being immature.

ok ...,.,,.,,

cute.

your pisces moon is keeping you from seeing clearly but that’s what young water seems…to do. to much light reflected; tho it is a fountain of youth.

she’s pushing 30 baby

but true, you’re her boo.

yea, a childish boo.

you ever wonder why her playlist from you had more songs than ours did?

why she can never keep a man around for valentines day?

oh but don’t you love “patterns”, baby????

unless it’s her leaving shit around the apartment

or her triggering you

or her treating your dick like it’s foreign,

even to you.

my gay ass was shookedt

when you told me you voluntarily

triggered yourself

for her kitty too

but i AM

a grown man

who is “running” from….you

you think that statement is not…. dishonest??

you really think that statement is true???

—

i didn’t run. i just

needed space

and you afforded me none.

you couldn’’t afford it.

february is before march which is before april

sooooooo it’s always a tight month ain’t it???????

oooooooh but you afforded her plenty.

she gets to take off her fucking pants while i try to figure out if i should move from a spot next to you….

on your fucking bed.

she took off her pants to climb near you before she could even say hi to

nooonoo

ahh right

and THEN ME.

“Oh, you CAN stay”

that’s what She told me.

and you said nothing.

so i left….the room.

i never run.

you pushed me out with your captain save-a-cis silence.

it’s violence.

and

you’re still pushing and pushing and pushing and pushing

until me…you know

i, the "old news”

just feels like he should just

fucking fall

onto the district streets

and she finds it

to her fucking fancy

to fall

into your lap

like a damn,,,,zel.

distressedt.

with a roof over her head outside of your apartment too.

woooooooops!

yip, as she is probably prone to do.

her kind….isn’t new….boo.

her kind isn’t new to me

her kind isn’t new to you

you ever wonder why she feels so familiar to you?

she reminds Me of the girl who told you

she could never marry you

and is now trying to date someone just like you

so don’t be so unkind to me

or to you

or be so foolish

as to believe i gave up on you

you gave up on me

and on top of that

you think i just...ran

ran….with what clothing?

the ones you packed up for me and left at the door

that i was suppose to pick up

and slide out the back….like a fucking whore?

you just tryna be

a cissie's bae

who stay clownin on trans folks now?

oooooooh issa bet, mo

. i mean.,,,.,,.mhhhh i guess?

—==—

but troooof, i don’t “need" anybody.

but i want you.

but you need her.

that’s how it work, don’t it?????

that’s why you risk job security every day.

and let her leave her panties on my clothes.

and let her tell me i "can stay" in …..A, not MY, spot next to you

in yo'bed?

what fucking fools. the two of you.

but “no one is forcing [me] to"

oh, baby you /are/ forcing me too

i look on your blog and then find out you’ve been feeling “unwelcome in [your] own home”

this whole fucking time

all the way since early november, innit?????

if i love you at all,

what else am i to do?????????????

??????????????????????????/

know that you will self-destruct

and just…wait for you to????????????????????

???????????????????????????????/

i didn’t run.

you just fucking pushed me.

and you’re still fucking pushing.

and you’ll keep pushing.

bc that is what you do.

embe…..@strawberreli

se sá’m te konne nu’ou.

you like microblogging so much

so like it if you read this shit

#ritten #pisces tw #solar cancer cw #cutting cw #self harm cw

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reid-like-roses · 7 years

Text

All I Need - Chapter 3

Read on FF.net

Summary: After the Mountain Glenn plot failed, Roman was imprisoned while Neo escaped. Enraged by Roman’s failure of her plan, Cinder punishes Neo by torturing her, banishing her from her faction and occupying Neo’s hideouts. Now homeless and without a weapon, Neo winds up far from Vale and is trapped in a blizzard. But then she’s saved by the most unlikely of heroes. Post Volume 2 AU

Content Rating: T

Word Count: 5,218

Author’s Note: Post Volume 2 AU where basically none of Volume 3 or beyond happened. Neo is mute in this story and any dialogue from her is implied or inner monologue and will be written in italics.

TRIGGER WARNING!!! Implied torture and implied rape/non-con contained in chapter. If you do not wish to read these events, turn back now.

RWBY and all the characters within are the intellectual property of Rooster Teeth Productions, Miles Luna, Kerry Shawcross, Gray Haddock and the late Monty Oum. I am not being compensated in any way for this story and wrote it merely for entertainment purposes.

“You can come out now, sis,” Yang told Ruby as she rolled her eyes at her sister’s behavior. Ruby opened the door fully and tried to exit the closet but she tripped over a bucket and crashed down to the floor with a shrill yell. An avalanche of cleaning supplies, Christmas decorations and old videotapes fell on top of the young reaper. As Ruby struggled to extricate herself from the mess, Yang sighed and shook her head.

“Honestly, I don’t know why you’re so freaked out, Ruby. You really need to chill out,” scolded Yang as she held out a hand to help Ruby up.

“Gee, I dunno, Yang,” snapped Ruby. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that the last time we saw her, she was kicking your ass so hard that I’m surprised it’s not still bruised.”

“Language, young lady” Taiyang said as he came downstairs to investigate the loud crash. Ruby muttered something under her breath as she walked over to the refrigerator and pulled a jar down from on top of it labeled ‘Swear Jar.’ She then fished a lien out of her pocket and stuffed it in the jar before returning it to its place.

“Yeah, last time she wiped the floor with me,” muttered Yang bitterly, clearly not fond of the memory Ruby just brought up. “But this isn’t last time. I mean just look at her.”

“Regardless of her current condition,” Taiyang said calmly, holding up both hands to try to appeal for peace between the two sisters, “we still need to have a talk about what’s going to happen with our new guest.”

“I already told you that I’m not going to let you kick her out, Dad.” Yang bristled.

“I know. And I agree with what you said. I let my emotions get the better of me and you’re right, it would be inhumane to kick her out with nowhere to go in weather like this. But we have to stay on our toes because we don’t know how long it’s going to be before her friends come looking for her.”

“I don’t think she’s a threat right now,” said Yang far more calmly than she had been a moment ago. “She had a bit of a breakdown and during it, she told me how she’s lost everything, including her house and all her friends. And I could tell it wasn’t just an act. She’s legitimately at the end of her rope right now.”

“And you believe her?” Ruby asked incredulously.

“Yes, Ruby, I do,” Yang shot back with a scowl.

“I know you want to believe her, Yang," sighed Taiyang wearily, "but the fact remains that she’s not somebody who deserves our trust.”

“I know she doesn’t deserve it but I dunno. I just have this gut feeling about her that she really needs somebody to help her. And I feel like I can do that for her. Maybe we can make her an ally?”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” muttered Ruby just loud enough to be heard by everyone.

“At some point soon,” Taiyang said sharply to counter Ruby’s interruption, “you need to talk to her and get as much information out of her as you can. We need to know why she’s here on Patch and what she was doing before you found her.”

“I’m not going to interrogate her, Dad,” Yang said in annoyance. “She’s not some prisoner. She’s done nothing wrong to us.”

“Does helping crash a train into downtown Vale and letting the city get overrun by Grimm not ring any bells?” Ruby asked sardonically.

“That’s enough, Ruby,” snapped Taiyang as he rounded on his younger daughter. “Upstairs to your room, now.”

“But Daddy!” Ruby protested.

“No buts. Yang and I are trying to have a serious talk about this matter and you’re not contributing anything positive. March upstairs until we’re done.” Ruby huffed in annoyance and stuck her tongue out at Yang who just rolled her eyes. Ruby then stomped loudly upstairs and slammed her door behind her. Taiyang grimaced and shook his head in disappointment. As mature and gifted as Ruby had been to be accepted into Beacon early, sometimes she could still be a teenage brat.

“Anyway,” said Yang to break the silence, “as I said, I’m not going to interrogate her. If you want answers from her so badly, call up Qrow or Ozpin.”

“I really don’t want it to have to come to that if it doesn’t have to,” Taiyang said heavily, worn out from all that had happened in the past day. “I’m hoping that she’ll be willing to talk simply because of what you did for her.”

“Even if she would be willing to talk to me, do you really think she’d give me a straight answer?”

“It’s tough to say. I guess it really depends on how much she wants to protect her allies. If what she told you already is true and she’s acting on her own, I see no reason why she’d lie.” As Yang was about to offer another retort, the smoke alarm suddenly started beeping. “Oh no, I forgot about our dinner!”

Taiyang dashed to the oven and threw open the door to find the roast he was cooking had been badly burned. Acrid smoke poured out and caused Taiyang to start coughing. Yang groaned and grabbed the fire extinguisher from the closet Ruby had been hiding in and quickly doused the flames.

“So, spaghetti then?” Yang asked as she waved her hand to try and clear the smoke from her face. Taiyang simply nodded as he pulled the burnt roast from the oven.

————————————————————————————————-

“Neo? Wake up Neo,” said a cool, menacing female voice. Neo did come to and the first thing she saw was the glinting amber eyes of Cinder Fall. Behind her were her lackeys, Emerald Sustrai and Mercury Black. All three were wearing identical malicious smirks on their faces. Cinder reached up to lightly caress Neo’s face as she spoke again. “I don’t think you understand this game, Neo. If you die, then I can’t keep inflicting pain on you. And I’ve been having so much fun.”

Neo wanted to sign something nasty to her in reply but her hands and ankles were bound and she was unable to move. The cool air hitting her skin made Neo shiver and she realized she was naked. Neo looked down at her body and saw a large amount of scratches, cuts, bruises and dried blood all over her skin.

“I haven’t even gotten to have my turn with the little slut yet,” crooned Mercury, suggestively fiddling with his belt as he said it. “You two ladies have gotten all the fun so far.”

“Please let me know when you plan on doing that so I can be as far away as humanly possible,” growled Emerald. “The last thing I need to see is your disgusting ass in mid coitus.”

“Aw, but Emerald, I need your tips on how to properly fuck this bitch. You seemed to really enjoy making her scream earlier.”

“Quiet you two,” snapped Cinder, letting her fake pleasant façade slip for a second. “You’ll get your chance to get your rocks off Mercury. But there’s more pressing matters to attend to right now. Tell me Neo, have you ever read the works of Shan Yu?”

“Uh, she can’t tell you anything, boss,” interrupted Mercury in befuddlement. “She can’t talk, remember?”

“It’s an expression, you dense moron,” Emerald hissed as she elbowed Mercury in the abdomen hard enough to drive the wind out of him. “Shut up and let Cinder finish.”

“Thank you, Emerald,” said Cinder with a smile. She then walked over to a table nearby and picked up an instrument with lots of sharp, pointy ends on it. Cinder flipped a switch on it and it hummed to life with a threatening buzzing noise. She then sauntered over to Neo and pressed the tip of the device right against her belly button.

“Now, if you haven’t read his works Neo, he was a dictator many centuries ago who had some rather fascinating insights on war and humanity. One of my favorite things he wrote was, ‘Live with a man 40 years. Share his house, his meals. Speak on every subject. Then tie him up, and hold him over the volcano’s edge. And on that day, you will finally meet the man.’ Now we’ve been associated for a little while, Neo, but you’ve always been hanging around with Roman while I was busy with my plans. And I don’t feel we ever really got the chance to get to know each other. But now that we have all this time to ourselves, I’m dying to meet the real you.”

As Cinder pressed a button that caused the device to stab into her, Neo’s eyes flew open as she woke up in terror. After a frantic few moments of looking around, she realized that she was back in the guest room of the house on Patch. Pain shot through her left leg and she winced as she started unraveling herself from her cocoon of blankets. When Neo finally got to her leg, she was horrified at how mangled it looked. She hadn’t had a chance yet to survey the damage she’d suffered from the beowolves and falling out of the tree.

Neo tried desperately to fight back tears as she heard a small yip come from the floor beside her. She glanced down to see Zwei looking up at her with as much concern as a dog’s face could manage. He ran to the bedroom door then back to where he was, looking between Neo and the door every couple seconds. Neo realized he was asking if he should get help and Neo nodded emphatically at him. Zwei ran back to the door and began scratching at it, barking as loudly as he could. A few moments later, Neo heard heavy footsteps running down the stairs and an instant later, a disheveled looking Yang burst into the room.

“What is it Zwei? What’s wrong?” Zwei ran back over to the bed and put his front paws up on the mattress to draw Yang’s attention to Neo. Yang saw her face screwed up in agony and she quickly moved to Neo’s bedside. “What happened? What do you need?”

“I had a bad dream and I woke up with my leg killing me. Do you have any pain meds?”

“Of course, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Yang dashed back out of the room as Neo laid back down on her pillows. She wondered why she hadn’t noticed the pain before but assumed that she must have just been so numb from the cold that she didn’t notice. A minute later, Yang was back with a handful of pills and a glass of water. Neo took both and quickly downed the pills.

“Thanks,” Neo signed as she set the glass down on the bedside table.

“You’re welcome. Do you need anything else? Should I hang out for a bit?”

“That would be nice.” Yang nodded and went back to the door to close it. She then sat down at the foot of the bed and scanned her eyes over Neo. Yang had been too preoccupied with getting her warm that she hadn’t noticed just how beaten up Neo was. Ugly scars and bruises, both fresh and still healing were all over the skin that Yang could see. Neo shivered as she realized just how cold she was and retreated back under the blankets. But it was still too cold for her.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” replied Yang with a self-satisfied smirk. Neo shot Yang a death glare that Blake would have been impressed by before she resumed signing.

“When I came to, I felt very warm and safe. And then I hit you, which means you must have been close by me. Were you cuddling with me?”

“I mean, if you want to look at it like that, sure.”

“Pervert,” Neo signed with a joking smirk on her face.

“Hey, it wasn’t like that at all, got it?” Yang shot back defensively. “Your body was ice cold and I needed to take every measure I could to keep you alive. So I held onto you all night and made sure you got warm.”

Neo paused for a moment as a deep blush crept over her face. “Would you be willing to do it again?”

“For real?” Yang asked, a blush of her own blooming on her face. “Uh, sure. I could do that again.” Yang pulled the blankets aside and stepped into the bed with Neo. After taking a moment to get herself comfortable, Yang apprehensively snaked her right arm under Neo’s neck and held it close against her. Neo stiffened up as she felt the warmth of Yang creep over her. She suddenly felt very small and helpless as she was wrapped up in the arms of the huntress.

“Are you okay? You’re very tense. Are you sure this is okay?” Neo realized she wasn’t in an optimal position to sign a reply so she pointed to the dry erase board on the bedside table. Yang grabbed it and handed it over to the mute woman.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just never been cuddled with before. At least not as far as I can remember.”

“Torchwick wasn’t much of a touchy-feely kinda guy, eh?”

Neo glared at Yang and quickly wrote back, “Not that it’s any of your business but no, he’s not. And Roman and I never had a relationship like that.”

“Okay, sorry. Didn’t mean tick you off.” The two fell silent again as Neo tried to get used to the feeling of being cuddled. Even though she was still scared to be touched so intimately, the thrill of how good it felt intoxicated her. She buried her head against Yang’s chest and heard her heart beating rapidly. Eventually, Neo reached her arm around Yang’s abdomen and hugged her closer to her.

“You feel really good.” Neo spelled out on Yang’s hip.

“Hey,” giggled Yang as she began to squirm, “watch it! That tickles!”

Neo reluctantly withdrew her arm so she could write and replied, “Sorry. I wish I had a better way to talk to you while keeping my arm around you.”

“It’s fine, you can go back to that. Also, you feel pretty nice too. You’re much warmer than the last time I did this.” Neo placed the board beside her on the bed and returned her arm to around Yang’s torso. They spent a few minutes snuggling, both getting drunk on the feeling of the other’s skin. Even though she was in utter bliss, Neo really had something to tell Yang so she once again picked up the dry erase board.

“I think I’m ready to talk to you now.”

“About your nightmare?” Yang questioned, a little sad that their great cuddle had come to an end.

“No. About me. About how I ended up like this.”

“Yeah?” Yang asked, trying to contain her excitement. “You sure you want to?”

“I’ve got nothing else to lose in my life. I might as well tell my story.”

“Okay, well what do you want to talk about first?”

“Whatever you want to know most about.”

“Well, there’s lots of things I want to know about you,” began Yang slowly, pondering the question. As she thought, her father’s request came back to her mind and she knew what she had to ask first. “But the first thing I should ask about is the one that I’ve been told I need to find out from you. Am I or anyone in my family in danger because you’re here?”

Neo started writing a lengthy response. Yang couldn’t help but be slightly nervous as to what would be waiting for her when Neo was finished. She really hoped that Neo wasn’t just being overdramatic earlier and really meant that she was by herself now. When Neo finished, she passed the board to Yang.

“Not as a direct result of me, no. After the train incident, I was severely punished for Roman’s failure and banished from the faction. I tried to lay low in one of our safehouses but I was captured again and dumped out of a plane. I think they meant for me to drown in the ocean but I ended up here instead. But the point is, anyone I was previously associated with is either imprisoned or considers me an enemy. And none of those individuals know my current whereabouts.”

Yang breathed a small sigh of relief that her family could stop worrying about being in danger from Neo. But Neo had mentioned something she couldn’t help wanting to hear more about. “You said you were punished. How bad was it?”

“It was bad. I’ll just leave it at that.” Neo wrote with a pained grimace on her face as the memories of how she was tortured came back to her. “Cinder probably should have just killed me but she chose to make me suffer instead.”

“Wait, Cinder? You mean that girl from Haven?” Yang asked in shock.

“Yeah, her. The whole thing was her plan. She, Emerald, Mercury and a bunch of pricks I didn’t get to meet are on some big crusade to punish the rest of the kingdoms or some shit like that for all of Mistral’s problems. I don’t know. I wasn’t ever really interested in their bullshit. I just did what I was asked to.”

“Wow. I can’t believe it was them all along. They fought alongside us in Vale. They helped clear out the Grimm. And it was them the whole time?” Neo nodded her head solemnly to confirm Yang’s question. An awkward silence fell between to two for a minute. Yang couldn’t believe what she had just been told. Was she going to have to go through the rest of her time as a huntress not knowing who to trust? Cinder and her friends had been so pleasant but they were the bad guys. Meanwhile, Neo had seemed like a complete monster but Yang was finding out she was nothing of the sort either.

“You still want to talk about me?” Neo wrote and stuck in front of Yang’s glazed over eyes.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” replied Yang, snapping out of her train of thought. “Sorry, that whole thing with Cinder just kind of threw me for a loop. Um, how about this? Were you born mute or did something happen to you that caused it?”

“No, I wasn’t born like this. I haven’t talked since I was a little girl. My parents’ house burned down and killed them but I somehow managed to survive. Ever since then, I haven’t been able to speak.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Where did you go then?”

“None of my other ‘family’ would take me in so I was sent to an orphanage to hopefully get adopted. That’s where I met Roman. His mom died giving birth to him and his dad didn’t want to raise a kid on his own so he just gave him away. He took pity on me and was my protector when we were there. I can’t even count how many times he was beaten for sticking up for me when the people who ran the orphanage or the other kids tried to give me trouble for not speaking.”

“So, did you ever get adopted?”

“No. It became clear to both of us when we hit our teens that we were lost causes and we were sick of all the shit at the orphanage. So, we ran away, just the two of us against the world. I unlocked my aura and learned how to fight and disguise myself. And Roman did all the talking.”

“Is that how you became criminals?”

“Look,” Neo began writing with a stern look at Yang, “you call it being criminals but we were two kids on our own with nothing in the world but each other so we did what we had to to survive. Did we rob people and steal things? Yeah, we did. Would you have done anything differently if you were in the same situation? If it was you and your sister who were homeless street rats, wouldn’t you do the exact same thing?”

“I guess,” admitted Yang begrudgingly. “So, then how’d you get mixed up in the whole take over the world stuff?”

“Roman never really gave me all the details as to what happened. He just told me that this woman came to him with an offer that was too good to pass up. He said that if it worked, we wouldn’t have to worry about being petty thieves ever again. We’d be set for life and all the people in power would get what’s coming to them.”

“Do you regret what you did at all?”

“To a point. Do I regret doing whatever it took to scrape out a living? No. Do I regret getting dragged into business with those assholes? Absolutely. I never wanted any of that. I just wanted to keep living like how we were.”

“What do you think you’re going to do once you’re better?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I mean, ideally, I’d love to find Cinder, break every bone in her body and then chop her up into a billion pieces. But beyond that, I don’t know.”

“Have you ever given thought to being a huntress?” Yang asked her hopefully. “With your fighting skills, you could be a really damn good one.”

“Ah, so that’s your game, is it? You’re gonna see the potential deep down inside me and try to turn me into a good girl, is that right? Turn me into a model citizen and make me renounce all my wicked ways?”

“No, that’s not it,” replied Yang with a guilty tone. She had to admit that the idea had crossed her mind even though she figured it was a lost cause. “I just figured that fighting is what you’re probably best at and why not make a proper career out of it?”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass. I may not be interested in bringing down Ozpin, Ironwood and all those pricks anymore but believe me when I say that they’re still pricks. And I don’t really care to be one of their lapdogs for bullying the rest of the world into behaving just like them.”

“You’re probably going to have to work with them if you want to get to Cinder so badly. And as good as you are, you’re not going to be able to take her down by yourself.”

“Yeah, I know I’m not good enough to beat them all myself. But I refuse to fight their war for them. If you’re fine with being their little disposable hero, you go right ahead. That’s not how I want to live my life, though.”

“I’m not really interested in that sort of stuff, either. I just want to travel around the world, have some adventures and kill some monsters. And if doing that helps out some people in need, that’s a bonus.”

“You may want that but that’s not what they want for you. And if this war really does end up kicking off, they’re going to drag you into it whether you want to fight or not.”

“Do you really think it’s going to come to that?” Yang asked nervously. “Do you think we’re gonna go to war?”

“It’s tough to say. Cinder and her cronies do have quite a lot of shit together and they’re certainly pissed off at the world enough to try something.”

“Remnant’s been at peace for so long. I can’t imagine what would happen if the kingdoms went to war against each other again.”

“Has it really? I bet your White Fang buddy would have something to say about that.”

“Neo, please,” said Yang in desperation, “you have to do this one thing for me. Promise me that you’ll do whatever you can to make sure that this war doesn’t happen.”

“And why should I help you with anything?”

“I don’t want to have to play this card but I did save your life. I know you don’t owe me anything but please, it would mean everything to me if you can somehow keep us from going to war. I’ve lost too many people in my life already and I don’t want war to take any more. Please, I’m begging you.”

Neo paused for a few moments to consider what Yang was asking for her. Finally, she closed her eyes and let out a defeated sigh as she began to write, “Okay, fine. I can’t guarantee that I can stop it. But I’ll give your leaders all the intel I can so that they can maybe put an end to it.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” Yang hugged Neo tightly against her and caused a searing surge of pain from Neo’s wounds. Neo frantically flailed against Yang to try and get her to release her. Yang realized what she’d done and quickly backed away from Neo who was gritting her teeth in agony.

“You know I can’t be an informant if I’m broken in half, right?” Neo signed as the pain slowly began to ebb.

“Sorry, I got carried away,” muttered Yang sheepishly. “I should probably go and let you try and get back to sleep, yeah?” Yang went to leave but Neo quickly grabbed onto Yang’s wrist and held onto it tightly. Yang glanced back at Neo and saw she looked as surprised at her actions as Yang was. With her free hand, Neo grabbed her marker and wrote out a message for Yang.

“Please stay?” Yang read the message and then looked to Neo. She looked terrified and Yang wasn’t sure if it was because Yang might leave or because she’d written that note. Yang couldn’t help noting the similarity to Ruby when she was younger and would beg Yang to let her stay in Yang’s bed. Yang then soberly nodded and readjusted herself to how she was lying before. Neo returned her head onto Yang’s chest and listened to her heartbeat again. As strange as it was, just hearing that made Neo feel very safe and protected. Within a few minutes, both girls drifted off to sleep.

————————————————————————————————

Neo panted for breath as she glared at Emerald who was holding Neo’s parasol and malevolently twirling it in her fingers. Neo made a lunge for her but Emerald simply teleported away again and reappeared a few feet to her left. As Neo tried to strike Emerald again, a sudden kick from out of her vision landed right in her stomach and knocked the wind out of her. As Neo struggled for breath, another kick came at her, this time striking her in the jaw. Neo flopped to the ground but immediately tried to get back on her feet. As she raised her head, she saw Mercury standing above her, his leg poised in the air. He then brought his foot down with a smashing axe kick, causing the ground under Neo’s head to crack.

Emerald then hooked Neo by the back of her collar with the crook parasol and pulled Neo into a kneeling position. Through the fog caused by the kicks, Neo could faintly see the glowing eyes of Cinder walking towards her. As her vision fully recovered, Neo noticed the bow in Cinder’s hand with a frightening black arrow cocked back and aimed right at Neo’s heart.

“Tell me Neo, do you believe in destiny?” Cinder asked. But before any sort of answer could be given, the lights suddenly went out. Neo heard an arrow whiz by her face and clatter to the ground.

“Whoa, what happened?” Mercury yelled in surprise. “Everything suddenly went dark!”

“No kidding, genius,” grumbled Emerald. “The power went out. Go check the fusebox and see if it needs a new one.”

“No, wait,” Cinder said with a noticeable twinge of fear, “we must have been found out. Quickly, retreat.” The three villains tried to make their way out of the dark but suddenly Neo could hear blows being landed and grunts of pain. An enraged yell rang out and Neo looked up to see Cinder flashing in and out of light as muzzle blasts illuminated her while loud shotgun shots rang out. After several seconds of being pummeled, Cinder crumpled unconscious to the floor. Before she knew what was happening, Neo was scooped up by a pair of strong, sculpted arms and was being carried princess style away from her captors.

“It’s okay Neo, you’re safe now,” her savior said. Neo broke into a wide smile as she realized that she had been saved by Yang. She threw her arms around Yang’s neck and nuzzled her face against the blonde’s. Yang finally got the two of them out of the room and removed the night vision goggles she’d been wearing. She looked down at Neo who looked very relieved to be out of that mess.

“I always wondered what it would be like to be saved by my hero,” Neo signed to her.

“Yeah? Did I meet your expectations?” Yang asked cheekily.

“More than you ever could have done. I think you deserve a reward.” Neo then readjusted her body until her legs were wrapped around Yang’s torso and she was looking the blonde in the eye. She then pulled Yang in for a passionate kiss. Yang was all too happy to reciprocate as she ran her free hand through Neo’s hair.

“I love you,” Yang whispered against Neo’s lips. Neo shivered as goosebumps erupted down her spine and she slid her head down onto Yang’s shoulder. Yang hugged Neo tightly against her but not too tight as she lightly rubbed Neo’s back.

Neo tilted her head up and said hoarsely into Yang’s ear, “I love you too.”

Neo’s eyes snapped open and she found herself back in Yang’s guest room. Down the hall, Neo could faintly hear the sound of sizzling bacon and the delicious smell of pancakes. She then noticed that Yang was no longer in bed with her and judging by the temperature of the space next to her, she’d been gone for a little while. Neo felt a stray tear leak out of her eye and she sadly placed her hand on the pillow Yang had been using. She then recalled the dream she had been having and her heart fluttered at the memory of kissing Yang. As much as she enjoyed the thought of that happening, Neo had to admit that this was not good. Things were starting to get very complicated for her very fast. And if she didn’t get her emotions in check as soon as possible, she could end up falling for someone she knew she shouldn’t.

#rwby #rwby fanfiction #rwby fanfic #baked alaska #neopolitan #neo politan #yang xiao long

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cladeymoore · 5 years

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An Alternative Look at the FIRE (Financial Independence, Retire Early) Movement

The following is a guest post from Kevin at Next Level Finance.

One of the biggest trends in the personal finance world in recent years has been the FIRE (Financial Independence, Retire Early) movement. At its best, it’s a passionate group of individuals seeking independence from traditional employment and a healthy work/life balance. At its worst, it’s a group of bloggers with unrealistic financial projections that are a bit too caught up with finding that perfect Instagram shot while traveling.

The movement seems to be more popular in the world of bloggers compared to the offline world of coworkers and neighbors. Personal finance and FIRE bloggers often tout the income their blog is generating, and how that has led them to financial independence. Some of these folks have quit the corporate gigs and now focus fully on blogging and deriving income from their online activities.

Let’s be clear: this is great! Entrepreneurial activities and finding independence outside of more traditional work arrangements can be a great thing. I’ve been in this camp for years, so I can certainly appreciate it.

However, I believe there’s a bit of a leap from generating enough side income to quit a job to the idea of early retirement, and I believe the messaging around it is faulty. So, I find it important to consider alternative views of the FIRE movement. Even if you’re pursuing early retirement, hopefully you still find this discussion fruitful.

Let’s dive into some specifics...

We’ve had a historic bull market in stocks.

It’s no surprise that the FIRE movement has taken hold in the latter stages of a historic bull market run in stocks. The decade long run in stocks has had a myriad of effects.

First, people feel wealthy. The values of their investable assets have gone up dramatically. With a larger set of assets in the bank or a brokerage account, it’s more tempting to pull the trigger on early retirement.

Second, we’ve had very low volatility. The bull market (the S&P 500) has nearly gone straight up since 2009, and naturally, this has made investors complacent.

Low volatility and consistent year-after-year returns makes everyone feel like an above-average investor, and it can be tempting to think that the party will go on forever.

Bull markets are great for everyone, but the prudent investor has a bit of skepticism and plans for worse days. If you’re considering early retirement, and the amount of assets you have exposed to the stock market is to be a major source of security and/or income, you should be asking yourself a number of questions such as: What if a quick, market correction of 20% or 30% occurs? How exposed am I to market fluctuations? If I had to, could I go a few years without touching the money in my stock market accounts?

A 401(k) shouldn’t factor into early retirement

One of the strangest parts of the FIRE movement is when 401(k) balances are cited. Here’s an example from an article on MarketWatch:

Earlier in her 20s, she set a goal to retire from full-time work at age 35, but she later decided to move that date up to 27.

She wasn’t going to “retire” completely, but work flexibly after quitting her job. At that time, she planned to move to Minneapolis to be with her boyfriend. She saved more than $130,000 in a 401(k), about $25,000 in a Roth IRA and kept $20,000 in cash. She also had about $5,000 in a taxable investment account and $10,000 in a health savings account.

If you withdraw money from a 401(k) account before the age of 59 ½, you are not only taxed, but you get hit with a 10% withdrawal penalty. Withdrawing money early on a 401(k) and incurring the 10% penalty is viewed by just about everyone as a really bad idea.

As such, the above example becomes ridiculous quickly. The individual’s $130k in the 401(k) is now irrelevant for the early retirement scenario. Sure, that balance will grow on its own between the ages of 27 and 59 ½, but this person has 30 years until then to figure out how to get income.

So, the person basically has $20k in cash, $5k in an investment account and $10k in an HSA. You can early withdraw contributions from a Roth, so to be generous, let’s just say this person has $60,000 in savings across these accounts for her FIRE scenario. A 4% withdrawal rate on $60,000 is $2,400 per year.

It’s not really a surprise that you read the following later on in the article:

Now, she’s living with her parents until she finds a new, full-time job, back in the IT world where she started.

Withdrawal rates

Since we touched on the topic of withdrawing investment or retirement money, let’s discuss withdrawal rates briefly.

If you’re an investor, there are very few things you can control. They are things such as asset allocation or diversification, contribution levels and withdrawal rates. Everything else is pretty much up to Mr. Market.

In very serious market corrections that occur every so often (e.g. the 2008 crash), even asset allocation or diversification doesn’t hold up very well. In 2008, essentially everything got hit (there was nowhere to hide). While asset allocation is an important consideration, it needs to be held in its proper place.

As such, for a retired individual or someone considering retirement, withdrawal rate becomes the most important factor for your portfolio. Most often you’ll see the 4% number cited as the safe withdrawal rate for a portfolio. It’s reasonable, but even the 4% level can bring about risk. In a prolonged period of time, if your portfolio goes through a major correction due to a larger market event (such as 2008), the 4% withdrawal rate will severely hamper your portfolio survivability.

It's important to always recall the mathematics of loss. Bear markets hurt your portfolio more than bull markets help your portfolio. If your portfolio goes down 30%, you then need a 40%+ gain to get back to even. If you’re withdrawing 4% through a down period in your portfolio, some losses become permanent.

How’s this apply to the FIRE discussion? Risk is a crucial element of any long-term financial planning, especially in a retirement scenario where regular income is either taken off the board or reduced. The amount of money you withdraw from a retirement portfolio is a major element of risk to consider.

If you want to retire early, be conservative in your estimations of withdrawing money from investments and think through in advance possible scenarios where you may need to cut back on the withdrawal rate in order to maintain the long-term viability of your portfolio.

Re-examining the idea of work

It seems like much of the FIRE mentality is about escaping a mundane work environment. That might mean getting away from a 9-5 job or getting away from being an employee where you’re at the mercy of an employer.

Whatever the reason behind the motivation for early retirement, a broader discussion of work seems important.

Here are a few principles I tend to embrace regarding work:

Working simply for the ability to make a living and provide for yourself and your family is not only okay, it’s an admirable thing. One thing that can get lost in the pursuit of more fulfilling work is the idea that work in and of itself is still a worthwhile thing. The person who works a mundane job day in and day out while providing for his or her family is worthy of our respect just as much as a jet-setting entrepreneur managing his or her business from exotic locales.

If you seek more enjoyable or fulfilling work, awesome! But realize that nothing is easy. There’s a misconception often in the FIRE community that it’s super easy to get a few passive income streams up and running, and then, you’re off! The real world doesn’t really operate this way. Other than things like simple index funds, there are very few passive income streams. For example, a friend of mine that derives his income from real estate rentals (often cited as passive income) works harder than anyone I know. You should always expect that generating income is going to require hard work.

Beware the promise of online income streams. I’ve made a full-time living off of online audiences now for the last seven years, so I can say with first-hand experience that it’s not for everybody, and it’s likely much harder than you think. If online income is your goal, then go for it, but plan to work very hard for little to no money for years. Even if you get over the initial multi-year hurdle, for most people, it’ll likely never be any substantial money. Could it result in a hobby you enjoy and make a little extra cash? Yes! But for many, if they examine the hourly wage they’re earning for the time put in, they’d have been much better off working a second job elsewhere.

I wish I had more patience when I was in my 20s. Since much of the FIRE conversation occurs around young people, I’d encourage anyone in their 20s (or maybe 30s) that is reading this to be patient. I was a very impatient 20-something always seeking the next thing, the next business, the next way to make a buck. While things worked out fine for me, I wish someone had sat me down and encouraged patience. You have a long career ahead of you. You will be able to do many, many awesome and fulfilling things. It’s okay to be patient, earn a paycheck and learn from your company, your co-workers, your bosses. Work your way up in your company for a few years and take on additional responsibility. The experience is extremely valuable and will aid you down the road when you want to be more independent.

Family considerations

I’ve observed that discussions of family are often missing in the FIRE equation. “Retiring” early on a relatively small asset base gets pretty difficult when you start factoring in children. Or, what about aging parents?

I can tell you from first-hand experience that kids are expensive! Even when you’re trying to “do things different” from maybe the wider culture, there are still a large number of expenses that can be difficult to avoid.

While many FIRE participants maybe don’t have kids, or plan to never have kids, I’d also remind folks that things change in life! Priorities change, circumstances change, and you might find yourself with kids ten years after you assumed that you’d never have kids.

Regardless of your situation, I encourage you to consider (at least to a small degree) the chance that your perspectives on family may change down the road. And if they do, having the flexibility to adjust financially will be paramount.

A better path for those looking for an alternative work/life situation

I’ve spent roughly 1500 words poking holes in the FIRE movement.

I don’t want to just throw cold water on a movement which has legitimate intentions and goals, so perhaps I can offer some suggestions for a better path forward for people looking to change their work/life circumstances? Here are 5 tips for those intrigued by the FIRE movement but want to consider alternative paths:

Plan to work harder than anyone else. The first tip is a basic one, but it’s often overlooked. Spend a few years working harder than anyone else setting up a business or additional income streams. Don’t quit your job, but spend your free time working. There are no guarantees, but you CAN build something valuable in your spare time without destroying your current financial picture.

Don’t dismiss your experience and skills. Use them! The best way to grow additional income streams is to leverage your existing skill set and network. An easy transition from traditional employment can often be consulting in the same space. This sort of transition has the following elements working in your favor: You have skills in this space, you have a network in this space, and you have a track record you can point to which should help you land clients (often the hardest part of being on your own).

Expand your skills so you can wear multiple hats. When you go out on your own, you’re going to be doing everything yourself. You’re going to selling and trying to land clients, providing the service or building the product, creating invoices, managing the books, and handling things like insurance and taxes. While you’re getting a paycheck, why not try to expand your skills so that such a transition will be smoother? Ask your employer if you can help out in other areas. This not only makes you a more valuable employee (and maybe help land a raise), but it’ll give you valuable experience in a number of areas that will help you later.

Always be more conservative in your projections. Almost every entrepreneur who “takes the leap” is too optimistic with regards to projections. Initial sales and revenues are almost always lower than you think. Whatever you’re projecting to make in your first year, cut it in half and then consider how that will impact things. Additionally, make sure you have a cash cushion for personal emergencies. There’s nothing more stressful than deciding whether to pay for fixing your car or funding your business. While you’re struggling to generate revenue, life is still happening. Things break, people get sick, etc.

Don’t forsake saving for “real” retirement. Probably the biggest problem with early retirement is that it means you are no longer saving money. If you’re under 40, the reality is that you might have 50 years of life left to pay for. Having enough money for all circumstances that life can throw at you over such a length of time is not a simple matter. If you transition out of traditional employment to a more entrepreneurial setup, make sure you’re still socking away money for later in life.

To conclude, if you’re someone drawn to the FIRE movement, congratulations! It means you want more for yourself. I encourage you to consider your future situation from a number of angles and remind yourself that what you’re doing now still has tremendous value. There’s no rush to escape it. Seek to find fulfillment in your current situation while you prudently pursue the next phase of life. Good luck.

from Money 101 https://www.freemoneyfinance.com/2019/01/an-alternative-look-at-the-fire-financial-independence-retire-early-movement.html via http://www.rssmix.com/

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maxwellmmeyers · 5 years

Text

An Alternative Look at the FIRE (Financial Independence, Retire Early) Movement

The following is a guest post from Kevin at Next Level Finance.

Let’s dive into some specifics...

We’ve had a historic bull market in stocks.

It’s no surprise that the FIRE movement has taken hold in the latter stages of a historic bull market run in stocks. The decade long run in stocks has had a myriad of effects.

Second, we’ve had very low volatility. The bull market (the S&P 500) has nearly gone straight up since 2009, and naturally, this has made investors complacent.

Low volatility and consistent year-after-year returns makes everyone feel like an above-average investor, and it can be tempting to think that the party will go on forever.

A 401(k) shouldn’t factor into early retirement

One of the strangest parts of the FIRE movement is when 401(k) balances are cited. Here’s an example from an article on MarketWatch:

Earlier in her 20s, she set a goal to retire from full-time work at age 35, but she later decided to move that date up to 27.

It’s not really a surprise that you read the following later on in the article:

Now, she’s living with her parents until she finds a new, full-time job, back in the IT world where she started.

Withdrawal rates

Since we touched on the topic of withdrawing investment or retirement money, let’s discuss withdrawal rates briefly.

Re-examining the idea of work

Whatever the reason behind the motivation for early retirement, a broader discussion of work seems important.

Here are a few principles I tend to embrace regarding work:

Family considerations

A better path for those looking for an alternative work/life situation

I’ve spent roughly 1500 words poking holes in the FIRE movement.

from Money 101 https://www.freemoneyfinance.com/2019/01/an-alternative-look-at-the-fire-financial-independence-retire-early-movement.html via http://www.rssmix.com/

0 notes

rivygucci-blog · 7 years

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The Beatin’ Stick

By Gucci

Sophomore Year-2013/2014

I always hated parties. Too many people I don’t know talking about shit I don’t care about. Living with Rivy (my cousin) in the frat house our sophomore year exposed me to more parties than I ever thought imaginable. You see, the frat my cousin was in didn’t have a house on campus at the time, so to compensate; the off-campus house (my house) was used as tribute.

I tried my best to have my fair share of fun. My band would get to play sometimes; I’d get to bartend here and there; I won the beer pong equivalent of the Heisman Trophy, but this isn’t some story about how my character grew to love parties. I still hate them. So many random people would pack into our house every weekend that it was impossible to keep track of who was supposed to be there and who was an ‘unwelcomed guest’

This story, however, starts far before the party did, and begins with our friend, and my band mate, Dan. Dan was our freshman year roommate. He’s a bigger kid and keeps his head closely shaved. We would often call him baldy, bald bastard and other variations that point out his utter baldness, and if he wasn’t rolling a spliff he was probably smoking one. Dan was the king of scraping a dollar together, whether it was playing guitar outside of the dining halls or selling off his old N64 games. Hell, he’d even pluck his pubes and knit a sweater if he knew he could sell it.

Every day we’d come home from class and there he’d be, with a spliff rolled and ready to smoke. With Dan came the Dan-Van, the Dan-mobile, The Smoking Van, etc. It was a Grand Caravan that he had taken the back rows of seats out of. The spacious area was large enough for at least eight of us to hotbox the whole thing. I wouldn’t have been surprised if enough smoke filled the van to lift it off the ground.

It was a Friday morning. Dan had spent the night after band practice and figured he’d just go to class right from our house. He, however, never made it to class that day. His breaks shit the bed halfway to campus and was left rolling down a side street hoping to any higher power that was willing to listen that he wouldn’t crash into anything. Thankfully something did listen, and Dan was able to coast into the parking lot of a nearby mechanic. Lucky for him, they were able to fix the problem then and there. Naturally, Dan said, “Fuck class.” He came back to the crib and told us all what had just transpired.

That afternoon, He, Rivy and I crawled into the back of the van, rolled a few spliffs and began to plan that night’s events. That’s when I noticed something obscure in the van, something that certainly hadn’t been there before. It was a 4-foot long collapsible steel rod, the bottom third was painted florescent green, the middle was a deep black and the top portion maintained it’s steel color.

“Dan, What the fuck is this?” I asked.

Both he and Rivy looked at me in confusion. Neither of them had any clue. Turns out, ‘this’, was one of the mechanics tools he must have left in Dan’s van. What he used it for was anyone’s guess. Being freshly baked, the three of us decide to play with this foreign object. Baseball, golf, even javelin throwing, basically any sport we could think of we tried. At one point Rivy began to chase me with the stick, exclaiming, “I’m gonna stick this up your ass! You better run! “, “I’m fixing to make me a Gucci shish kebab!” and “I’m gonna getcha’ with the Beatin’ Stick.”

“The Beatin’ Stick.”

The name stuck.

Since I was the last one holding the stick when we called it day, I tossed it in my room and forgot about it.

The party began at its usual time. All of Rivy’s frat brothers came over along with a handful of my friends. Posh, my housemate and President of Rivy’s frat is a big kid and kind of looks like the Moon from The Bear in the Big Blue House (you remember that show right?). Also there was Harold P. Argyle. He was probably 35 at the time and was a former brother of the frat. If Nosferatu had darker skin and was Jewish, that would be the perfect visual for you to steep on when picturing Harold P. Argyle. These two people play a role later on in the story.

In particular attendance were my buddies Mike and Brian. Both hailing from the humble land that is Long Island, Mike is a tall Irish kid with red cheeks and a hot temper. He was a real charmer when it came to women. He probably got laid more times in a week than I have in my entire life, but hey, I’ll take a dry spell over having foreign fluids dribble out of the tip of my dick.

Brian was as gym rat as they come. I would say that his three favorite words were “Protein”, “Bud” and “Lite”. “Mah Dude” was his catch phrase of choice. How the three of us clicked is still a mystery, (I attribute it to beer and Super Smash Bros) but I can still call them some of my best friends to this day. Once all the close friends had gathered, the floodgates holding the sorority girls and random partygoers burst open. High heels clanked up the wooden stairs and the unmistaken aroma of beer, marijuana, and sin filled our raised ranch home.

If there is one thing that pisses me off the most about parties, it’s people who break the rules of beer pong; “elbows” being my biggest pet peeve. Dan and I were playing these two kids whom I didn’t recognize at all. To the left was an average size white kid. He wore baggy clothes and wasn’t the biggest talker. His partner was a very tall, lanky black kid who kinda looked like Snoop Dog if you replaced his corn rolls with a dirty dust mop. He too wore baggy clothes and was the main perpetrator of “elbows” (For those who don’t understand the concept of elbows, it’s quite simple. In beer pong, you must keep your elbows behind the table when you shoot. It is basic etiquette)

So, this being a friendly game, I kindly asked the kid, “Hey man, just watch your elbows.” He responded with nothing but a glare. They began to sink cups on Dan and I, each time leaning farther over the table to do so. He might as well have been slam-dunking the pong balls into our cups. What made the situation worse was the amount of trash talk we were receiving. Pong comes with its fair share of trash-talk and taunting, however, these kids were taking it to the next level. So they win, and the trash talk continues. Dan and I, not being ones to start fights, just ignore it and walk away.

About an hour later I walked downstairs to grab another beer out of my room when I see the two kids standing near my drum set. A third, Hispanic kid, had joined them; he seemed to be their leader. I’m naturally very protective of my belongings, so I walked over to the group and engaged them in what was hopefully a boring conversation so that they would walk back upstairs. I started talking about school and work and they weren’t really listening at all. My plan worked and they left.

The party was basically over as it was well past 1 am. Only the close friends were left along with those three kids and this random, out-of-nowhere girl, Adrian. Posh, the Fraternity President told them that they all had to leave and the party was over. This Adrian she-bitch began to stomp her feet and claimed she didn’t have a ride home. (That sucks for you…)

She demanded that one of us drive her and her friends (The three kids) back to campus. Her argument being that this was our party and that it is our responsibility to get her home safely (Yea, ok. You’d have better luck asking us to kidnap a bunch of midgets, superglue dildos to their heads, and force them to fight gladiator style).

It’s quiet for a moment. Everybody in the room erupted in laughter because that was easily the stupidest thing we had heard all year. Posh tells her that she doesn’t have to go home but she can’t stay here. She responds with more hysterical screaming and stupid remarks.

I head downstairs to process this ridiculous scene in my mind. I can still hear Adrian screaming upstairs. As for Rivy? He was in his room with his girlfriend (now ex) trying to get hard. Suddenly we hear a barrage of footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Let’s go, get out!” I hear Posh yell. “Fuck you man! We don’t have a ride home!” one of the three kids hollers back.

Rivy emerges from his room wondering what all the hollering is about.All of a sudden, the tall black kid appears at the top of the stair well. He looks down at the three of us. Brian motions up the stairs to try and force these kids out.

WHACK!

Brian is sucker punched and stumbles backwards down the stairs. The black kid then props his arms against the wall and begins to use his long legs to kick down the stairs and prevent the three of us from coming up.

“Mah dude! What the fuck!” Brain yells.

The battleground is laid out in the following manner. The three kids had their backs to the front door. Upstairs were Posh, Dan, Mike and Harold P. Argyle looking down on them. Downstairs were Brian, Rivy and Myself looking up. The three of us were held back by the long legged kicks from this tall, dark demon. It looked like something out of a video game, where a medium-difficulty leveled boss was blocking an area you had to get to.

Chaos ensues, everyone was screaming and swearing at each other.

“Fuck You!”

“GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Dan lunges towards the kids and winds up tangled with them. He takes a hard shot to the eye. Then it hits me. As if time itself had warped backwards to Dan, Rivy and I smoking in the van hours before. I run to my room and grab The Beatin’ Stick. I pointed it forward like a long spear and with every ounce of oxygen in my body, I yelled louder than I ever had before,

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!”

I ran up the stairs grasping the Beating Stick like a long sword and started swinging. The three kids turned pale at the sight and motioned to the front door. I began beating them with this pole so bad, you could mistaken me for an angry , old-timer farmer who just caught his 3 sons trying to jerk each other off while their sister cheered them on. In fact, I delivered such a beating, that the tip of this solid pole bent.

As they retreated, they tried grabbing Dan and pulling him out of the door! We grabbed him by his shirt and began a tug of war. After a few moments, we pulled Dan back inside and shut and locked the door. The three kids began banging on the door and ripped the screen clean off.

I hustled back downstairs, waiting for these kids to run around the side of the house and come back in through the sliding glass door. Part of me wanted them to, I was ready for em’. Rivy came up next to me wielding his police baton. We weren’t fucking around anymore.

Tensions settled, and the kids disappeared. Everyone began swapping his perspective of the story. To this day, my friends and all involved can vividly recall the image of me charging up the stairs with the Beatin’ Stick. Ultimately, we decide to call the police and report the incident. We also ordered Domino’s to celebrate our triumph.

Thirty minutes went by, and Harold P. Argyle poked his head out the door in search of the Pizza guy.

“Hey guys! Those kids are still here!” he hollered back into the house.

We all leaped from our seats and hustled outside. Sure enough, the three kids along with Adrian were leaning up against a police car a few houses down. An officer approached us.

“You guys were the ones that made the call right? ” the officer asked.

We explained the situation to him, he told us we had done the right thing in calling the police, and that we were in no trouble what so ever. In fact, the three kids had called the police on themselves to try and get a ride back to campus because it was freezing out (retards). The cop asked Dan if he wanted to press charges. Dan, not really trying to ruin anyone’s life, declined to do so. The cop ensured that he would at least give them a good scare for us.

If you ever have parties, always be careful of who you let in... you never know who you could be dealing with.

To this day, I still have ‘The Beatin’ Stick”. My trunk recently broke and doesn’t stay open. I use the Beatin’ Stick to prop it up when I need access to it. I came to learn that was its purpose all along. However, to me, it will always be the Beatin’ Stick that saved the day, and by far my weapon of choice.

TL;DR: Had a party a few years ago, randoms came over and started trouble, I beat them with a collapsable metal pole, profit.

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