#finally things are working in my favor fr and to pass one of these i literally have to get. 1 single question right | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shorkbrian · 3 years

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I swear I ain’t in it for the money, but I can’t stop thinking about sugar daddy shoto. Maybe he sweeps a cute little college kid or barista of their feet, just something fun and casual. But this man starts falling harder, needing a way to lock them down to him. Money isn’t quite cutting it anymore, so he decides fucking a baby into her would do the trick. Shoto would push her down into the mattress, large frame twisting her into a sweet mating press. This way they could stay together forever and Shoto would have absolutely no problem providing for his sweet family <3

but fr tho I feel like Shouto is NOT the type for kids.

Mans will tolerate them when they babble or wave at him, but he very actively Does Not Want them.

Always uses condoms, and even though he’ll threaten not to, it’s never a legit thought in his mind to cum inside. Shouto doesn’t want to be a dad.

-----

You’ll be sittin on a park bench, fading sunset dark and pretty in front of you yet all you can do is cry. There’s not really any people around so it’s not like you’re bothering anyone - you hadn’t wanted to cry in your shabby apartment (half the cause of your worries) just in case you received a noise complaint.

“Are you alright?”

A somber, smooth voice is heard. You’re swiping at your tears quickly as you look up, trying to laugh off your state of distress. “Oh, haha, yeah I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” It’s hard to smile with your puffy cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.

The man in front of you frowns, hands in his coat pockets, scarf draped around his neck. “You don’t look fine. Mind if I sit?”

He’s already claiming the spot next to you on the bench before you can say a word, turning to you with a passive expression. “Why are you crying?”

And that’s all it takes to have you breaking down all over again, tears streaming down your face. Just one person offering to listen to the heavy burden you have to bear.

‘’M sor-sorry...” You sob, wiping at your eyes with frigid fingers, successful in doing nothing more but smearing tears around your face.

“Here.” The man’s taking off his scarf, gloved hands offering it you.

“I ca-can’t use your sc-scarf sir.” But he’s insistent, pressing it into your hands up by your face.

“I’ll just get another one. Keep it, you’re in need of it more than I am.”

The kindness makes another fresh bout of tears roll down your cheeks, but this time you're able to dab them away with soft fabric as you sniffle.

It takes a moment for you to calm yourself. When you do, you can finally engage in conversation with the man.

You tell him about your job hours getting cut, how you’ve been turned down or ignored by every single place you’ve applied at for a second job. How you’re barely affording to wash your clothes - you have to hang them or drape them across things in your apartment because you don’t have the money to pay for a dryer cycle.

And to top it all off, you’re still short on rent, despite how you scrimped and saved and even forced yourself not to buy groceries this week - you’ve gone hungry for the past three days.

“You haven’t eaten?”

You glance up at the man and his incredulous expression, shaking your head. “I’ve been trying to save money, I thought I could afford my rent if-”

“What kind of food do you like?” The man is pulling out his phone, swiping and tapping immediately.

“Thank you, but I’m not-” looking for charity is what you want to say. Plus, you shouldn’t accept favors from strange men.

But the handsome man is waving you silent. “I’m cold, plus I’d like to grab a bite to eat before I head home. I don’t like eating alone though, you’d honestly be doing me a favor.”

You take a moment to process. Is he telling the truth? He sounds like an honest guy.

“Seems like the only place open around here is “Joe’s 24 hour Diner”.... You mind burgers?”

So that's how you end up in a booth opposite the man (”Shouto” he had told you as you both headed to the diner), munching away at warm food. It tastes so good, you hardly have time to worry about the man watching you as he eats.

You’d been shocked at his looks the moment you’d seen him in the light of the diner. Pretty two-toned hair, different colored eyes, perfect skin, expensive clothes. Why was he even talking to you? It’s obvious the two of you led very different lives.

“How does everything taste?”

“Delicious.” Is your response, and Shouto seems pleased, nodding before taking another bite of his meal.

Maybe it’s stupid... but you feel weirdly safe with this man. He doesn’t seem to bear any ill-intent towards you, nor has he made any comments about your body or let his hands or eyes stray. He seems like a gentleman.

Conversation flows easily between the two of you, even sharing a few chuckles at times. He’s some fancy rich businessman, you learn, and you share about your own life, laughing at the comparisons. Shouto can’t fathom growing up in a house with less than five bedrooms and a personal servant.

He asks for your number, and you’re hesitant in giving it - he surely can’t be interested in you? But he seems so sincere, it’s hard to say no.

When the two of you part ways, Shouto gives you a wave, “Hope to see you again soon, and under better circumstances.”

“You too! And sorry for being such a mess and stopping your walk-”

Shouto shrugs, cheeks beginning to pink from the cold air as you two stand outside the diner. “You needed help. I like to assist.”

-----

The next morning you wake to find an atrociously large sum deposited in your Venmo account by none other than a Shouto Todoroki.

Immediately, you’re calling him. “It’s too much, we just met. How can you give away that much money to some low-life?”

You hear him sigh on the other end of the phone. “You’re obviously struggling. I was wondering what your hours are this week, perhaps we could talk about this over dinner? Or lunch, if that fits better with your schedule. I’m flexible.”

It’s a few days later, days spent questioning yourself, questioning his intentions, before you see him again, both of you deciding to meet for lunch to further discuss... whatever had just happened.

“Was what I gave you adequate to cover your rent?” Are the first words out of Shouto’s mouth after you greet each other.

“Yeah, more than enough-” You squirm. “But I need to ask.... why?”

“Why?”

“Why me.”

“Oh.” Shouto’s expression clears. “That’s easy. I told you a few days ago - I like to assist. I’m quite lonely, and it feels nice to use my money on someone other than myself. I think providing for someone brings me... I wouldn’t quite say joy, but... contentment.”

You contemplate his answer for a moment.

“Well... you saved me with my rent, I don’t really know how to thank you.”

The man leans forward. “Well.... I know it might be a bit sudden, but how would you feel accepting me as a.... benefactor of sorts?”

“You mean like a sugar daddy?” Is your immediate, blurted response. You want to slap yourself for speaking before you have the chance to think about your words, but luckily Shouto just lets out a light laugh.

“If you’d like to call it that. I’m willing to provide financial assistance for you, in exchange for companionship, if you’re willing to give it.”

Your face heats up as you drop your eyes, fidgeting nervously in your seat. “I don’t feel comfortable with a... a sexual relationshi-”

“That’s perfectly acceptable.” Shouto cuts you off before you can continue. “I wasn’t trying to insinuate a contract of that nature. I’m thinking more along the lines of accompanying me at meals, sharing experiences with me, providing company and friendship to a lonely man. If it seems that we’d like to progress further than that after we get to know each other, well, that will be addressed then. For now-” Shouto meets your eye, dipping his head a smidgeon so he can look at you directly. “All I ask for is a simple, non-intimate bond between two people.”

This is crazy.

And yet you accept.

The situation may be wild, and completely absurd, but you’d be a fool not to say yes.

Shouto is charming and handsome, respectful, courteous - you could go on and on about his positive qualities. He just seems like a sad, lonesome man swallowed by work and responsibilities, too stressed and busy to put the effort into making friends the conventional way.

-----

Months pass by.

You’re eating at every meal, sated and never going hungry. You’re able to move into a new place, one that doesn’t smell like cigarettes and sits right next to a railroad.

Clothes aren’t a worry anymore, you have your own washer and dryer in your new apartment (Shouto offered to buy you a house, or a penthouse at the least, but you couldn’t justify it to yourself). You’re able to afford new things, and pretty dresses, shoes that are comfortable and fashionable and that fit.

You no longer have to wear clothes down until they have holes in them. You’re able to go to the doctor’s when you feel sick, able to pay for health insurance.

Life is good.

Shouto is a personable man, serious, but he can be rather funny and even crude at times.

The doubt and thoughts of “Why is he doing this for me?” and “I’m not good enough for this.” plague you, but Shouto always seems to catch on, reassuring you that you’re exactly what he needs - a friend.

And you’re more than happy to be that.

You think sometimes, that even if he wasn’t paying you, you’d still like to be friends with Shouto Todoroki.

Until he starts acting weird.

“You should just stay at my place. I have more than enough room,, it’d be easier for both our schedules. We’d get to see each other more often.”

“Uhm...” You don’t really know what to say. You like your freedom, and having your own place where you can walk around in your (expensive) underwear without being bothered.

“I think it’d be nice, don’t you? We could have breakfast every morning, you wouldn’t have to worry about traveling to and fro, we could spend more time together. We don’t see each other nearly enough.”

He’s pushing, insistent. How are you supposed to tell him no? He’s paying for your entire life. Plus, it wouldn’t be that bad to actually live with him. Shouto’s an amicable man.

So you move in.

“I bought you a few things, they’re on your bed.”

Shouto’s striding into the kitchen where you’re making coffee, buttoning up his shirt as he comes closer. You’ve found that the man likes to sleep in nothing but boxers, shrieking and flushing an embarrassing shade the first time he’d come to wake you up with a sweet “welcome” breakfast in bed.

It’s taken a while to adjust, but you finally feel that you’re fully settled in.

“Oh, you really don’t ha-”

“I wanted to. I went through your closet - your clothes are nice, but your underwear seemed to be lacking.” He’s so matter-of-fact.

All you can do is stare at the back of his head.

“Could you pass me a spoon please?”

-----

Shouto had splurged on expensive, fancy lingerie.

At least eight different sets were laid out on your bed. It was overwhelming. It also felt.... a bit intrusive? They were all in your size, in a complementary color for your skin tone.

Weird.

Not as weird as the onset of Shouto’s casual touches.

You’d be reading, or drinking tea and watching cars race by on the street so far below, and Shouto would come up behind you, caress your sides before intertwining his fingers with yours on one hand. He did it as if it was a normal thing, but it felt anything but normal.

Or you’d be on the couch together, and Shouto would shuffle closer until his large body was pressed to yours, almost curled around you. The faux-cuddling was a bit more off putting. How do you tell him no?

The touches became more and more intimate, Shouto’s gifts more and more frequent until you weren’t even spending a penny, the man taking care of everything.

The arrangement was beginning to make you uncomfortable.

Shouto’s bi-colored eyes seemed to always be on you, tracing the shape of your body, watching you move, or breath, or sit. It was distracting, and you felt bad for feeling this way towards the man who’d pulled you out of poverty, but it was so unnerving.

He seemed to notice.

“You’ve been so stressed these past few days. Is something wrong?” Shouto’s rubbing a hand into your shoulder, hovering over you at the dinner table.

“No?” Is all you can manage, wiping your hands on your napkin as you finish your food.

Shouto frowns. With a sigh, his hand drops from your shoulder and the man leaves your side, heads toward the kitchen.

You clear your plate from the table, following after him so you can wash it and put it in the dishwasher before you head off to get ready for bed.

But Shouto is rummaging in a cupboard, pulling down two wine glasses to accompany the bottle of wine that’s standing proud on the island. It’s your favorite, a sweet wine that Shouto knows you like, always brings it out when he decides to drink whisky or bourbon after dinner.

He pops the cork and pours you a glass while you finish with your dishes, handing you the glass when you turn away from the sink, pressing it into your hands. “Let’s relax a little bit, it’ll be good for both of us.”

You’re fine with that, knowing that a little wine won’t hurt you, especially when it’s of such fine quality. You’d never dreamed that you’d be able to taste such richness in your lifetime, spend frivolous amounts of money on wine and fine eateries. Yet here you are.

Shouto pours himself a glass, barely a sip filling the bottom. The man raises it to his lips and takes a swig, grimacing a bit in his flat, unexpressive way. You giggle a little.

“Too sweet?’

The man nods, setting the glass back down. “I’m not entirely sure how you can stand to stomach it. But if it makes you happy-” He shrugs, before pulling on of the bar-stools out from under the island so he can sit facing you, long legs stretching out before him.

You look at him, and he looks at you, and then you take another sip of wine to avoid the awkwardness.

“You’re distancing yourself from me.”

The accusation is quiet, Shouto’s eyes focused on your fingers wrapped around the stem of the glass.

He’s always been straightforward with his words. “Is there a reason you keep drawing away?”

The wine disappears from your glass, sliding down your throat and settling in your stomach. You fill your glass again before speaking, struggling to find the right words without upsetting your... benefactor.

“Well, Shouto... I don’t really know how to...” You trail off, hoping Shouto will say something, change the subject, say it’s alright and move on to something else.

But the man stays silent, eyes appraising you.

Taking a deep breath, and another gulp of sweetness, you try again.

“Sometimes the closeness... like, physical closeness? Makes me, well, uncomfortable.”

Hopefully, that would satisfy his curiosity for now. That wasn’t the only reason you’d been avoiding Shouto seeming distant, but you didn’t think sharing the others would result in anything good.

Said man accepted your response, dropping his eyes to his lap as he mulled it over. More wine was consumed, glass re-filled. You felt nervous.

“You’re saying that my touch isn’t something you’d prefer.”

Biting your lip, you soften at his confused expression, at the hint of sadness swimming behind his eyes. “Kind of. I don’t mind you Shouto, you’re really kind, and you’re good company, and a wonderful friend. I just don’t think the.... the intimacy is for me.”

Shouto raises his head, stares at you with those pretty eyes, lips parted as he comes to terms with your words.

“It sounds like you don’t trust me. I would never hurt you, you know this.”

You scramble to assure him. “I do! I do trust you, and I know you wouldn’t.” (at least you hoped) “But I guess I just... Coming into this agreement I wasn’t ready for that type of... thing. I don’t know if I ever will be.”

The man rises, shakes his head as he steps closer to you. “Don’t worry, I remember our first conversation about that aspect. I see that for you, that type of relationship would only begin after you really cared for the other person, trusted and wanted to see them happy, am I correct?”

“Oh, Shouto-” You rush. “No, I care for you, and I trust you, and of course I want to see you happy. I think it’s just, y’know, my last relationship like that went really bad, and it sucked. I don’t want to go through that again.”

Shouto nods, understanding. “I see. You don’t have to worry about any of that with me then.”

A smile crosses your face, and you feel relived that he accepted your rejection with grace and understanding instead of violence or anger. “Thank you, it means a lot to me.”

The mood of the room shifted, from tense and uncomfortable, to easy and light, and you poured another glass of wine, laughing a little at how worried you were about the conversation with Shouto, only for it all to turn out fine.

“I’m going to go drink some of the liquor that’s kept in my room. I could mix a few drinks for you to try, you might like how sweet they are. I know hard alcohol isn’t quite your thing.”

You beam a smile, nodding your head eagerly. Before, you’d feel apprehensive about going into his room with him to drink alcohol. But with the conversation the two of you just had, you knew - things would be fine.

-----

The room was spinning and you felt giddy and light. You were definitely tipsy.

“You can lay down on my bed, you’re getting wobbly on your feet.” Shouto had offered, and you’d gladly accepted, flopping down onto his comfy bedspread with a laugh at how the motion made butterflies rise in your tummy.

Shouto leaned against his dresser, swirling whiskey in his glass as he watched you, a half-smile across his face. You smiled back, before closing your eyes, a little bit tired as you realized that you might be a bit more than just tipsy.

Shouto had mixed quite a few drinks for you, and you’d drank each one eagerly, impressed with how little alcohol you could taste in each one. You don’t remember how many you had, but it didn’t really matter.

The next thing you know, hands are on your waist, scooting you further up the bed so your legs no longer hang off the edge. Cracking open an eye, you’re met with the visage of red-and-white, eyes soft and warm as they regard you, Shouto’s face tinged a bit pink from the few drinks he had consumed. The man had never been too good at holding his alcohol.

When those hands started to slip beneath your shirt, you wiggled like a little worm, not really comprehending the situation. Maybe it was a dream.

Your shirt was discarded, then your pants. It felt much more comfortable now, and you mumbled a “thanks” to the man helping you settle for bed. He was so nice, Shouto took such good care of you. You still kind of couldn’t believe the turn your life had taken with him, the good luck pushed into your path.

Someone was kissing you.

With a grunt of surprise, you kissed them back, meeting their feverish pace and trying to keep up, soft lips puckering and pushing against your own with intent. Kissing felt good. You liked kissing.

Then a hand was cupping your face, stroking tenderly over your cheek before it began sliding down, down your neck, into the valley between your breasts, trailing over your bra. It felt funny.

Pushing back for air, you gasped when the hand on your chest started squeezing at you, eyes flying open with the startling, sudden sensation.

Shouto was hovering over you, lips puffy, panting as he stared at you with lusty eyes, an uncharacteristic look on his face. This... this wasn’t supposed to be like this. You knew. Hadn’t the two of you just talked about something... important? Was it important?

You didn’t feel panic until a hand cupped your sex, feeling your skin through your panties.

This wasn’t right.

Alarm bells were ringing, dull and far away, but you didn’t think that Shouto should be touching you in such a way. you should be going to bed.

“Mm, Sho, can you stop?” But your words felt funny on your tongue, and Shouto didn’t stop. Maybe he didn’t hear you.

His hair tickled your chin as the man bent to mouth at your tits, pulling the cups of your bra underneath them so he could feel your hot skin, let his saliva drag slick and wet against your chest.

Your hands instinctively rooted themselves in his hair as you gasped again, not expecting such a move, tugging lightly at his head to pull him up. Shouto just groaned, teething gently at your breasts and not moving an inch. His hips were grinding against the bed though, as he stood between your spread legs.

Before you knew it, your panties were gone, bra clumsily unclasped and discarded, and you were completely bare. Shouto was undressing before you, struggling with the buttons on his shirt before giving up, easily ripping the fabric of his body with one tug, grumbling.

You didn’t feel so tipsy anymore.

“Shouto, what’re we doing? We shouldn’t be doing this, we need to stop-”

“Stay down.” Was his firm command, a hand splayed across your naked chest and pushing you back into the mattress as you tried to sit up. It made you breathless, the growl in his voice, the dominance emanating from the man. You stayed still.

“This’s gonna make us a stronger couple.” The man slurred, eyes dark and hands wandering, effortlessly keeping you pinned against the bed as he ground his hips forward against the edge. You were getting scared.

“Wait-”

You fell silent as one hand pushed down his pants, his underwear going with them, pink cock bobbing free. He was so pretty down there, and it made sense, all of him was pretty, but you suddenly realized the weight of the situation, what was happening.

“Shouto, no, oh my god. We gotta stop right now, we’re drunk, we’re-we’re-”

“Don’t care. Not gonna let you hide away from me this time.” Shouto shook his head, taking his cock in one hand and giving it a long, slow pump, flushed tip weeping precum and wetting his hand.

“No, no, this is wrong. I don’t want this, I could get pregnant!” You cried, beginning to panic for real, pushing against the one strong hand anchoring you to the bed.

Shouto just chuckled, letting go of his cock to crowd against you, getting up in your face to press a wet finger to your lips, the salty taste of his precum threatening to slip into your mouth unless you kept it shut. “Shhh, shh. If you stay nice and still, if you do what I say, I’ll use a condom.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“You’re gonna listen to me, you always do.” The man nodded to himself, once again dragging his cock against the bed between your legs, as if he couldn’t stop himself. “Or else I’ll fuck you raw.” The finger was pulled from your lips, only to be wagged teasingly in your face.

You couldn’t believe how he was acting.

“Be nice.”

Shouto tapped your nose with a neatly manicured finger, before groaning as he heaved himself upright, red cock bobbing against his stomach, desperate for attention. The man gave you a look, as if to say “don’t move” before he took his hands off you, heading for his dresser.

Once you saw him pulling out a strip of condoms, you were on your feet, stumbling toward the door.

Although panic had sobered you somewhat, you were still struggling with the effects of the alcohol, so your reaction time was maddeningly slow. Slow enough that you weren’t able to truly fight against Shouto when he grabbed you from behind toned arms wrapping around your middle and heaving you into the air, only to throw you back on his bed.

You were almost sick on the bedspread, world spinning and stomach protesting, but you were able to calm yourself.

But then Shouto was on you, flipping you onto your back, a soft hand pressing against your throat threateningly.

“You want to have a baby? Want me to cum in you so you’ll get all fat with kids? Hm?” He was so intense, almost choking you, straddling your waist and keeping you pinned. It was too much

You were able to manage a tearful, desperate “No!” despite the hand around your throat, and Shouto backed off, releasing the pressure to instead stroke his hand against the sides of your neck.

“Stop acting like this, it’s the next logical step for us. You said you cared for me, wanna make me happy. This’ll make me happy. I won’t be like the last guy.”

His cock was pressed against your stomach, and you could feel it twitching. Shouto clambered off of you, letting go of your neck so he could grab the condoms he’d tossed on the bed before snatching you up.

“Do what I say and I use these.” He waved them in your face before tearing one off, beginning to open it.

You stayed still, gazing at him blearily, limbs feeling fuzzy, mind feeling the same.

The condom was rolled onto Shouto’s cock, the man spitting into his palm and giving the latex a few rubs to make it slick before reaching for you.

He dragged you to the edge of the bed - the perfect height for him to fuck you - and you didn’t fight, terrified of his threat. You couldn’t stand the thought of a baby.

(You didn’t know, but neither could he)

“Wanted to do this since I met you.” Shouto mumbled, pushing your panties to the side with a few fingers so he could guide his tip to your hole. “Want you so bad.”

You didn’t know what to think of this side of Shouto. This unreserved, uncareful, slurring mess of a man that loomed before you, gaze dark and wild, limbs everywhere as he groped and squeezed and appreciate the shape of your body.

But he must’ve gotten impatient, because then he was pushing inside.

It hurt, stinging pain rippling up your back and you keened, causing Shouto to pause. One of his hands darted down to wrap around your calf, hauling it up on the bed so he could lean forward and press it to you chest, sinking his cock a few inches deeper.

“You’re gonna take it.” He hissed before messily kissing you, pressed so close together that it was hard to breathe. “I’ll make it feel good after you do.”

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cupofkey · 4 years

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ok so literally nobody asked for this but ever since I made this post my thoughts have been consumed with the relationship between Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos, so have a big rambly mess under the cut

(disclaimer, I don’t view the nations as geopolitical entities or direct representations so much as representatives of their people. so they’re impacted by politics and governments but they’re also their own people with personalities, relationships, lives etc. like Being A Nation is a big part of their lives, obvious as it may seem. so their strongest ties are to their people, their culture, and their nation status. and I believe they have their people’s best interests at heart, and that’s over everything else, including ideology... which is a really big part of any discussions of 20th century southeast asia. I think things were different in the past, but as nations wised up and the world began to change, they’ve kind of let go of associating too closely with govts.)

gosh okay so. these three grew up with each other; Vietnam is the oldest and usually was the one in charge. back in the days when they were younger, pre-colonialism and before they were all kingdoms, they weren’t the closest? Cambodia was kinda distant from all of them and working on his own stuff, Laos was the youngest and really leaning on Thailand for guidance at the beginning, Vietnam was also focused on doing her own thing and struggling against China. as they became kingdoms they started having clashes, border disputes, that kinda stuff— idk, I think that kind of “all my neighbors are my enemies” dynamic was pretty common, and so it wasn’t anything super deep between them. there was definitely some resentment toward Vietnam for being the bigger power, though

there was a period of prosperity, and Laos started to rely on Vietnam more... and then colonization happened, and suddenly they were all shoved into one thing as French Indochina. Laos, still the youngest, ended up relying even more on Vietnam, who was still the main player of the group. Cambodia felt even more alienated from them (and resentful toward Vietnam, for what he perceived as taking the position as the dominant one throughout their history, along with having the most favor with France). however colonialism began to really take its toll on all of them, and as WWII began and Indochina came under Japanese control, I think these uneasy dynamics fell apart between them. they all acutely felt the traumas of having many starkly divided groups within themselves, the horrors of colonization, the machinations of ideology... I think there was a breaking point of sorts during/after this period (as their people endured brutalization at the hands of their govts) where these 3 reached out to each other as their bodies/nations started to be figuratively/literally torn apart.

and idk like I said I don’t personally hc most nations as fallible to ideology. at least not in the 20th century... they can be deluded, they can buy into it, they can go along with things, but it’s all for their people first and foremost. they don’t truly believe in anything like that anymore. (well, with the exception of America, but he’s young.) and I guess I also hc that they became pretty powerless within a govt context, and that the govt can’t really do much about or with them. anyways yea I think at that point they started to drift away from going with their governments, letting go of rivalry on a personal level. their govts hate each other, but they band together.

but so much shit happened throughout the 60s and 70s... and I think as their governments began to really harm their people, drive each other apart, civil wars raging, etc they continued to seek each other out. I think Cambodia especially felt a lot of pain when his government took a fiercely anti-Vietnam stance, like it was some kind of dark fulfillment of his anger against her from all those years ago, and now he had to pay for that. Laos also had conflicting feelings about Vietnam, seeing as her government was also following her lead of relying on Vietnam in the past, except now it was just contributing to the conflicts going on. the events of this time must have made them feel so incredibly alone— and so whenever they met each other I think they really just. understood each other without words. when Vietnam struggles to stand up, when she can’t hold her chopsticks without dropping them, they understand, because they’ve been through civil war too and they know the toll it takes. when Cambodia is in too much pain to move, they understand, because they’ve been through their governments directly harming and killing their people, and they know what that feels like. like... they just understand each other now. every day is more trauma and pain as their governments are at each other’s throats, and they have to somehow reconcile govt and people and their own personal feelings.

when the khmer rouge is finally deposed of (by Vietnamese forces) it seems like it’ll be a turning point— but there’s just more and more turmoil, and I think they kinda drifted apart again in this period. Cambodia was thankful but quickly became bitter about the Vietnamese presence in his country... I think they were all just. exhausted at this point. the worst of the worst has passed but there’s still so much suffering. however as the years pass and they get into the ‘90s and ‘00s, their countries and economies begin to do better, and they can finally breathe for just a moment and begin to process all of the trauma of the previous century. (rather than just, well, shoving it away because staying alive is more important rn.) ofc there are still plenty of problems. and so they seek each others company when things are feeling off, when old wounds resurface, or when shitty things are happening with their govts. like I’m thinking abt how Laos has a nervous breakdown when they’re clearing unexploded ordnance (bombs etc) from some of her cultural heritage sites bc it’s just... overwhelming and awful how scarred her people have become from this legacy of war. and Cambodia and Vietnam are there for her throughout the whole thing, they listen to her, they feed her, they sit with her so she doesn’t have to be alone. because she’s not. they know exactly what she’s feeling, they also acutely feel that pain of lives and culture lost to war.

nowadays, things are easier between them, and they seem like chill work acquaintances to most people. I think they often stick to their own friends or stay in big groups in public situations? like they’re friends in a smaller, private context, and not many people will get to see that other side of them. when they do get together, they just... exist together. sometimes one of them is upset about something and the others are there to listen. on dates like black april for example they’ll often make a ton of food and put on corny old pop music and just Be without fear of judgment or people not understanding. also I’d imagine Vietnam sometimes puts on Paris By Night or other stuff made by her diaspora about her traumas, and they talk about those individuals’ small efforts to share their own feelings, the impacts of their traumas as nations on said human individuals. idk I think they really have helped each other a lot via discussions like that, and just by supporting each other in general. lots of quiet listening and Just Being There here. they don’t say it, but they care a lot, and if they can ease each other’s pain just a little bit it’s all okay.

anyways jesus fuck that was long and I have so many emotions about them. I have fr just made up a whole thing in my brain and I will keep thinking about this. but thanks for reading this far and feel free to tell me what u think... yea

#hetalia #hws vietnam #hws laos #hws cambodia #my thoughts #also next chapter of ghlr is coming tomorrow lol #ive just been... Thinking #lies down and cries #i just like #found family ya know #silent stoic support #YEAH... YEA #oh and if u wanna hear more abt cambodia lmk #i am slowly fleshing him out in my brain so #oml i rly spent an hour just vomiting this out... its 1am.... huh

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tom-hlover · 4 years

Text

Young Man, Older Woman (1/?

Tom Holland x Older Reader

Plot: Reader is Tom’s new PA and is a single mother to a child. Tom develops a crush which he thinks becomes something more. He wanted to have a relationship with her more than a persona assistant and actor. Reader seems to feel the same. However, with her painful past involving the father of her child (the same age as Tom) and something more keeps her from doing so.

word count: 1902

Epilogue

warnings: none- still stirring up the story in here. it’s a wonder sometimes my brain works much for writing up stories. any feedback will be appreciated :)

Disclaimer: I’m not from the states, nor from England. I don’t have any idea on the places, everything is based on research. English is not my native language as well, and I’m still working on storytelling as well. :) I just thought that I will never learn if i never even started to write things so here goes.

“By the way, we’ll need to get you a new PA. Tin spoke to me that she needed to quit immediately. She said though that she’ll try to get someone in her place.” Harrison told Tom as he was prepping for an interview for his new movie, Spiderman: Homecoming.

“Oh yeah, she told me of her personal problems recently, which has been affecting her work as well. Though I’m not complaining or anything, I really loved working with her, it’s just for some reason, we don’t seem to jive very much.” Tom replied as he just finished hair and make- up.

“I gave Tin a week to get in touch with us so that we wouldn’t have a hard time once your shoot for Infinity War starts.” Haz advised as he continued looking down on his phone.

“Hey Tom, you’re up next. Are you ready now?” one of the staffs knocked in to inform Tom. “Yep! I was born ready!” Tom answered and winked at the lady and she smiled at Tom with this gesture, while Haz rolled his eyes. “See you later Haz, oh, by the way, Z and Jacob said that they’re coming over to our hotel to hang out. Can I ask a favor to buy something to eat for later?” Tom asked before going out. “Sure, sure, did you forget that we have a group chat? I saw their notice as well.” Haz answered. “Haha! I was just reminding you. Well, I’d better get going now. Thanks mate!” teasing Haz and waved off signaling he was going out now.

“Eagan looks like a very nice man, I can’t believe he’d do that!” Grandma exclaimed after hearing the story from Aubrey. “I already feel that there’s something between Lisa and Eagan. I can’t believe that almost all of my hunches are correct!” Aubrey added.

“What’s done is done. It’s best that you left him Y/N. There really must have been a reason why you have not been wedded to this guy.” Grandma told you.

You were just looking far away, then looking after John, who was playing at the living room, across the dining area where you’re gathered with Aubrey and grandma, eating breakfast. You were unable to touch your food that much as you still did not have the appetite. You have been staying there for a week now, and you have a lot of messages from Eagan. Your boss, being a close friend as well, advised you take a leave of absence for the meantime, but you advised that you’ll pass your resignation effective immediately, as you’re unsure until when you’ll be staying away like this. Your boss understood, and advised that should you return, you’re more than welcome to return to work and you were appreciative of the thought.

You were thinking of a lot of things for this past week. Though you have moved on a bit on what you have witnessed last week, you are now worried on how to make a living. You can’t just stay where you are and expect the world to stop turning because of you. The world continues to rotate, life goes on no matter how good or bad happens to one’s lives. Plus, you have John with you that you need to support yourself.

Aubrey’s cellphone rang which brought you back to the room and finally heard grandma and Aubrey clearly about their thoughts on what happened to you and what you should do moving forward.

“Oh, it’s Tin, I wonder what’s up now.” Aubrey said out loud and answered the call. “Hi Tin! How are you doing? Yes, I’m in Georgia now, with Y/N, you remember her, right? I see, when are you coming back? Oh, I’d love to take that job, but Y/N needs that much more right now. Are you still around town? Maybe we can meet up before you leave? Oh, right now? That will be great! I can bring Y/N along so that you can tell her about this new job! Alright, see you then!” Aubrey ended the call, and you were curious about what their conversation was about.

“Is that Tin? She’s one of your college friends, right? I heard something about a job, what was that about?” you asked her. “Oh, she said something came up and she needed to leave her current job immediately and needed a replacement. She offered me the job, but I declined, and I said you needed it much more. She is inviting us to meet her at the City Café. she’ll let you in on the job offer.” Aubrey explained, “Oh that’s great Aubrey! Y/N, it’s best you take this opportunity, whatever it may be. You need to divert your attention and mind to something else.” Grandma added and held out to your hand.

You thought for a while, you’re not sure if you’re prepared to work yet but you will need it for expenses. You did not want to be a freeloader. “Okay, let me just take a quick shower and get dressed. It’s about time I need to make my mind busy.” You said and stood up and was about to collect the dishes, but grandma stopped you. “Let me do those for you, you have kept on doing the chores here ever since you arrived, I want to do some exercise as well.” Grandma joked which made you chuckle a bit.

You left John under grandma’s supervision, with her saying that “it’s like starting over again for being a parent and like having a grandchild she never has yet with Aubrey and her sister, Aurora.”

You and Aubrey arrived at the café, Tin already got a table for you three and waved at you upon arriving inside the café.

Aubrey and Tin exchanged kisses cheek to cheek and waved at you. “It’s been a while Aubrey. I’m glad you’re here at the right time, with Y/N. Y/N I heard what happened. I’m glad you were able to get away and start a new slate.” Tin said to you and invited that you all now get seated.

You and Aubrey ordered tea and coffee, you were drinking tea for the past few days in the morning, and coffee at night, which helped in you staying up late.

“So, about this job, Y/N, is being a personal assistant. I’ve been working with him for a year now, and he’s to start a big project soon, and it’s not the best time to leave really, so I promised a replacement for me. I initially thought of Aubrey, but since she did not want it, and offered that I give it to you, as I know your work ethic, which is much better than mine, so I agreed immediately. I already told my boss’s best friend about you and they can’t wait to meet you, which will be by the end of this week.” Tin explained about it, which was quite vague, as you did not know who you are going to be an assistant for.

“I’m sorry, who am I going to be a personal assistant for?” you asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I haven’t mentioned it, it is Tom Holland, the new Spiderman.” She answered leaving you surprised and a bit nervous as you have been addicted to Marvel Fandom lately and you have been reading fan fictions about him and Chris Evans on Tumblr.

“Oh my, he’s so cute! Y/N has been fangirling about him! I’m surprised you haven’t told me any stories about you working for him?” Aubrey asked Tin. You bumped your elbow against Aubrey as if she just spilled a big secret you did not want found out.

“Oh really? Well that’s good, you’re somehow familiar with him then? He is indeed cute and kind too, and the reason I’m unable to tell you about him, is that I have a lot on my plate right now, which is why I’m taking my immediate leave as well. Not that I’m not enjoying what I do right now, it’s just that I need to leave here the soonest.” Tin said and continued to tell what happened to her these past few months and the reason why she’s quitting.

The day that you will be meeting Haz has arrived. Tin said Haz will be meeting up with you first before you are to meet Tom and start working for him. Tin told you that you’ll have to meet him alone, as she needed to go somewhere, in relation with her current problem.

You had no contact with Haz yet, just to make sure you’ll show up, as you’ll have no choice, your point of contact will be through Tin for now. This meet up will determine if you’ll be having a job moving forward or if you’ll have to start job hunting without the help from anyone.

You’re meeting up at the Village Café. You prepared your resume to bring with you and tried to be best dressed even though it’ll just be a casual meeting. Not too formal, not too casual, you picked to wear a white blouse, ankle-length sky-blue pants, and you wore a dark blue sweater and paired it with skin toned shoes with 2 inches heels. You let down your hair which has a natural wave. You put on light make- up though you’re not really used to putting anything on your face, you used this opportunity to use the make-up you bought for yourself.

You arrived 30 minutes before the time set, which was 11 AM. It was a lunch meeting. You wanted to set a good first impression by showing one of your work ethics, which was being earlier or on time. You texted Tin that you’re on the restaurant. Tin replied that Haz is still caught up on something but will be there if not by 11, maybe a little late.

It was 5 minutes before 12 PM, Haz has not yet arrived. You were used to waiting, but you felt like questioning if this was a legitimate job or not. Not that you don’t trust Tin, you’ve known her for a while now and you’ve not had any bad history with her. It’s just that it feels that this job offer is too good to be true. You did not believe that an opportunity like this will come knocking on you just like that, it’s like reading a fan fiction from Tumblr. You are giving the benefit of the doubt, both for Tin and for Haz, if it’s even real.

Time passed by further, it was already 1 PM, it’s a good thing you still have extra cash on you. You decided to order a shake as the staff seem to keep their eye on you, not ordering anything for an hour earlier. You decided to wait there until 2 PM as three hours is too much tardiness for a business meeting.

It was 5 minutes before 2 PM, when you were still busy scrolling through Tumblr on your phone, when you heard a voice, “I’m so, so, sorry, I’m late for this meeting. My friend was supposed to meet you, but as it was already so late, I decided to come by myself.”

You noticed that some of the waitress were gushing and giggling before looking to the person who arrived. You turned around and was shocked who you were face to face with.

It was Tom Holland himself.

tags: @eridanuswave

#Tom Holland x reader #Tom Holland x older reader #tom holland fan fiction #tom holland fanfic #original concepts #original story

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spins-ter · 5 years

Text

This is a continuation of [this] request. It’d be a good idea to read that first.

~-♡-♡-~

Wow, can’t believe I had this much motivation to write based off’a a request? I can’t think of a time I’ve written more than 1,000 words for one thing ignoring stuff for school, so this is a big thing for me.

So anyways, hope y’all enjoy this. The third and final part is gon’ be scheduled to post either tomorrow or Friday, depends.

~-♡-♡-~

Your Garden

~-♡-♡-~

The Gem placed you on the ground after the injector landed. All around you there were dead flowers and overgrown grass. The path you were sat on was cracked from years of neglect. While looking, you gasp for air and are glad when you get some. While you take in a few deep breaths, the Gem squats in front of you and studies you quizzically.

“Ya alright there sugar-lips?” She teases once your breathing steadies. “Wouldn’t want my new playmate to die.” She chuckles a bit and you blush, but frustration takes over you.

“I’m fine now, no thanks to you. Humans aren’t made to hold their breath that long.” You snap at her. “Where in the galaxy did you bring me to? Why did you take me? Who are-” You were cut off by the glare she was giving you.

“Calm ya’self before I beat the silence into ya.” The Gem sighed, giving off a regretful vibe. “Welcome to the garden. You won't be leaving anytime soon.” She pecked your lips, causing your already red face to deepen in color. “What, you were so eager to give me one earlier.” You bite the inside of your mouth at the reminder of your mistake. “Thought I’d return the favor.” She chuckles, giving you another small kiss on the tip of your nose before standing up.

You tilt your head up and stare at her. “You still haven’t told me your name.” She gives you a chuckle in response before picking you up to make you stand.

“Guess you’ll need to learn sooner or later. Name’s Spinel, can’t wait to hear it roll of your tongue.” She chuckled and gave you a smirk. You felt her arms unwrap from you and you stayed standing. “Good, I’ll leave you be for a bit. I still have business on Earth.” Spinel jumped up back onto the injector and with another blow of her finger horn, she was gone.

“Why did I try to help.” You groan, beginning to examine your surroundings. You could now see that it was, in fact, a garden. Although it looked like it had been abandoned for thousands of years. You sigh, feeling a hunger pang strike through you. If Spinel didn’t kill you, lack of food and water sure would. At least you had the time to get used to your surroundings.

~-♡-♡-~

You awoke from the nap you decided to take to the sound of a warp going off. You jolted up, half-expecting the Crystal Gems to be there, but you were greeted with the sight of Spinel holding bags. All you do is glare at her before curling back up.

“Don’t be like that.” Her voice was soft, without a hint of anger. She shifted so the bags would make a noise. “I got you some things, I’m not goin’a hurt ya.” You turn back and see an equally soft expression on her face. You give in with a sigh and sit up. She walks up to you and sits in front of you, setting the bags between you two.

“I know you need things to survive.” Spinel said as you pulled items from the bags. There were various foods, water bottles, a blanket, and a packet of strawberry seeds. “I don’t want to kill you, I’m sorry for earlier. I’ve had… a day.” You look up and notice how drained she truly looks. You feel a pang of sympathy and put the food and water back in the bag, but kept out a portion to consume as the hunger returned to your tired body. Spinel watched you for a moment before getting up and starting to walk away.

“Hey, wait.” You whisper, making her pause. “Come sit by me, please. I want to talk.” You partially lie. It was true you wanted to talk, but you also did not want to be alone. She was the only being here you could interact with. She stared at you, a little confused, but came and sat when you patted the ground beside you. She waited for you to eat before asking what was up.

~-♡-♡-~

It had been about two months since you were kidnapped. In all honesty, you could manage to convince Spinel to take you home if you wanted, but you didn’t. You felt more needed here. A small breeze ran through the garden as you laid in the now more kempt grass. It would take a while for it to look less dead, but you were actively doing your best to make it beautiful again. Spinel surely enjoyed the gesture.

Spinel. The Gem had gotten closer to you. She still teased you about your trip when the two of you fought, and you began to tease her back in reply. The two of you had shared too many quick kisses to consider your relationship platonic, but both of you still did somehow. She had been slowly opening up to you about her past, about Pink, and about her issues. You heard Spinel sit by you and you looked at her. She was looking at you with anxiety flooding her eyes, making you sit up.

“Hey Spins, what’s wrong.” You take her hand in yours and she looks down in response. “C’mon, slinky, you can trust me with whatever it is.” As soon as you finish, she breaks down and cries.

“[Y/N], y-you’ve been so n-nice and I don’t deserve it-t.” She rested her head on your chest and gripped you as she sobbed. “I t-took you away fr-rom your home and threatened y-you. Why, wh-hy are you so kind-d to m-me.” She nuzzled into your chest, seemingly afraid to lose contact with you.

You felt emotions stirring in you while trying to think of how to comfort her. Conflicting ones. Frustration, the longing you still had to go home, but also feeling that this felt like home, and Spinel… You had finally realized why you hadn’t convinced her to let you go home before.

“Oh Spins.” You give her a kiss on the head and she leans into the affection. “It was the worst that first day, I won’t sugar coat that.” You inhale, suddenly worried as to how this would go. “But ever since you’ve been nothing but kind as well. The only times since that it’s been hard are the days you’ve let your trauma get to you, and I don’t blame you.” Another small breeze passes over you as you pause. “And I want to stay here, not forever but for now. I want to make sure you’re okay because…” You pause, not being able to find the right way to word it.

You stroke her hair and she tenses, worried about what you’re going to say. After a few moments, you can find the words. “I think I love you, and I couldn’t bear to leave you.” You feel her pull away at your words and you worry that you said something wrong, but one look in her wide eyes was enough to prove you wrong.

“You- You’re not lying, are you?” You shook your head and she began to cry again. This time, though, it seemed it was more out of joy than fear. She moved back to you and softly placed her lips against yours. This was much more different than her teasing pecks. It was longer and you could feel the love that motivated it. You leaned into it for a moment before she pulled away, choosing to bury her face in the crook of your neck.

“I-I love you too, [Y/N]. I…” Spinel sighed, you could feel tears still coming from her hot face. “I’m so sorry. I wish that wasn’t how we met.” You wrap your arms around her and rub a hand in a circle around her back.

“I know, but it was and we can’t change that.” You lean your head on hers a little. “We can make this work, I want to make it work.” You heard her let out a small chuckle, it was just as infectious as all her other laughs.

“Yeah, we can make it work.” She hums and places a gentle kiss on your neck.

#spinel #spinel x reader #reader x spinel #spinel imagines #spinel fanfic #x reader #y/n #self insert #self shipping

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grapesodatozier · 5 years

Text

happy trailer day!! here are some soft madwheeler hcs 💕 (this got long, so most of it is under the cut) (fr this is basically a fic in bullet format lol)

the party is in their junior year of high school, which means they’re learning physics

which means the boys are in heaven

but max is in hell

(el isn’t in the same classes as them bc she still has catching up to do)

will, lucas, and dustin all have physics together with mr clarke, but mike and max end up in another class with another teacher

mike and max are on good terms at this point, but they’re still not super close. still, they sit next to each other on the first day without questioning it, and then those are their seats for the rest of the year

they mostly make small talk the first couple of days, but then max comes into class with a huge smile on her face bc the funniest thing happened in art class and she has to tell someone about it

and mike is right there, and curious about what’s so funny, so max tells him the story, sounds effects and hand motions and all

she doesn’t notice, but mike is listening to her with undivided attention, his eyes soft and the ghost of a smile on his lips

they start actually talking after that

cue to their first quiz

max doesn’t want to admit it, but she’s been struggling in the class

when the teacher passes mike his quiz back face up and murmurs a “well done, mr wheeler” right before she passes max’s back face down, she can already feel the shame heating up her cheeks and settling in her stomach

she peeks at her grade and finds a 35/50 at the top of the page, right above a big red C-

she crumples up the quiz and shoves it in her bag despite the fact that the class spends the next 20 minutes going over the quiz

max can feel mike looking at her

one glance at his quiz explains why he’s paying attention to her and not the teacher: 52/50. he even got the extra credit right.

max rolls her eyes and slumps further in her seat, her arms crossed as she pointedly avoids meeting mikes eyes. she bets their wide and brown and full of pity she doesn’t want or need

they’ve fallen into the habit of chatting a bit after class and leaving together, but max leaves without a word and doesn’t bother to wait for him

unfortunately, she only has one period of reprieve before she has to see him at lunch again

she gets there before him, which turns out to not be in her favor as he sits right next to her when he arrives with el

he gets a few weird looks from the others, bc that’s where el usually sits, but el just shrugs and takes mike’s usual place next to lucas

max has had an hour to cool down, so she gives mike a smile and congratulates him on being nerd

mike gives her a small smile before getting right to the point

he leans in and says it softly so that the others won’t hear, and max is grateful for that, but now he’s so close that she can smell the laundry detergent sticking to his clothes, she can feel his shoulder bump against hers, and it makes her heart beat a mile a minute

“why didn’t you tell me that there was some stuff you didn’t get?” he asks, his voice soft and genuinely confused “I can help you if you want”

and max feels embarrassed and indignant and almost too proud to accept the offer

but mikes eyes are wide and brown, and they’re soft, and what max finds in them is closer to affection and encouragement than pity

and also he’s giving her an excuse to spend time with him, something she’s been looking for (not that she’d ever admit that - she’s barely admitted it to herself)

“okay, yeah, if I’m feeling lost I’ll ask you about it. thanks.”

they smile at each other softly and join the group conversation, but max’s heart is beating too loudly for her to hear much

a week later and max admits defeat

physics ends and max feels about ready to cry

“mike?” she calls gently across the aisle, hating how her voice breaks. and she knows mike noticed it, bc he’s giving her his soft eyes™️ that make her want to melt but also punch him, but she manages to swallow back her stubborn pride and tell him, “I didn’t get any of that”

she tries to say it with a laugh, but her voice is choked up

“yeah this unit is confusing” he agrees, and max can’t believe how kind his smile is. “do you wanna work on the homework together? we can go to my house after school if you want”

max can’t help but smile at how eager mike is to help other people

“yeah, sounds good.” then, after mike smiles and finishes packing up his bag, max adds on a “thanks”

“it’s no problem” mike assures her

max is suddenly regretting saying yes bc if mike looks at her like that the whole time she’s gonna have a problem paying attention during their tutoring session

it’s all she can think about for the rest of the day, which nearly makes her gag at herself, but she can’t help it

butterflies erupt in her stomach when she sees him after school at the bike rack

just as mike is getting on his bike at the end of the day, max rides past him on her board and shouts at him that she’ll race him to his house

the way he shouts after her warning her about the giant hill on the way has her both rolling her eyes and smiling; she’s been down that hill hundreds of times, but it’s still sweet that he’d want her to be safe

they get to mikes house at pretty much the same time, so they have a foot race to the basement door - max wins, but her victory cry dies on her lips when she turns to see mike right next to her, leaning on the house, smiling at her as he catches his breath

“you got a head start” he accuses her, but there’s a smile on his face and no real hear behind his words

“you keep telling yourself that” she grins as she pushes the door open, trying to ignore how nice mikes hair looks when it’s wind blown

they get down to business pretty much immediately, much to max’s chagrin

they start out just doing the homework side by side, the textbook open in front of them on the table, surrounded by capri sun pouches, chips, and cookies

max can’t help but notice how much farther ahead mike is than her

the she gets stuck on a problem for so long that when she throws herself back into the couch in frustration she notices mikes been waiting for her so he could turn the page and go onto more problems

“you don’t have to wait up for me if I’m slowing you down” max grumbles

mike completed ignores that offer. “which one are you stuck on?”

max shows him, and he walks her through it. his patience melts her heart, calms her down. but then the next problem is even harder, and with her anger quelled now she just gets sad that she doesn’t understand what mike is trying to explain to her

she can feel the tears stinging in her eyes, and she does her best to hold them back, but then her vision is blurring and she hears the tell tale sound of a tear hitting loose leaf

she shoves her binder away and furiously wipes her eyes, wondering if it’s more embarrassing to leave or stay

she freezes when mike puts his arm around her. he’s never done that with her before, but it feels so natural, max wants to melt into it so bad

“hey,” mike says, in the gentlest voice max has ever heard, “it’s okay, we’ll get it eventually.” max nods, but she still doesn’t look at him

he starts rubbing little soothing circles on her shoulder with his thumb, a small gesture that has max’s heart kicking into over drive

“do you wanna take a break?”

max wants to say no. mike clearly didn’t need a break, why did she need one? but she is pretty drained, so she nods again

“can you teach me how to skate?”

that surprises max into finally looking at him

“what?”

“well, I’ve been wanting to learn, and it’s gonna get too cold to learn soon, so”

“you know what? sure, I’d like to see you make a fool of yourself”

“wow, thanks”

and max was kinda joking, but mike truly is terrible

like, she knew he would be, but he’s genuinely shaking even as he’s just stepping onto the skateboard

he reaches out for her instinctively, and she’s immediately there to support him

his grip on her arms is so tight, and she can feel his hands shaking as he gives her a small, bashful smile that makes her heart melt

“you need me to walk you down the street?” she asks, only half teasing

mike rolls his eyes, but his smile doesn’t leave his lips as he says back, “are you actually gonna teach me or are you just gonna make fun of me?”

“can’t I do both?”

and max loves this, she loves this banter that’s blossomed between them in recent weeks, she loves that she knows it’ll make mike smile

she drags him around for a bit, first clinging to both of his arms and then gradually shifting to holding his hands, a gesture that had her blushing even harder. his hands were a little clammy, but she liked how tightly they gripped hers, she liked how they were bigger than her own. she liked the freckles on them.

eventually she insisted that he try pushing off a few times without her. he hesitantly agreed, on the condition that she stay close

max really thought he’d do better, but after pushing off for the second time he falters, loses his balance, and the board flies out from under his feet

max is at his side in an instant, kneeling over him to make sure he’s okay

he props himself up on his elbow and checks his scraped up palm and mutters a quiet “shit”

“does it hurt?” max hold his wrist gently, the contact sending electricity through her as she feels his pulse under her thumb

“I mean yeah, but I’ll probably live”

she finds that their faces are level, and closer than she’d realized

“guess you still need me to hold your hand” she jokes, her heart racing

“yeah” mike smiles, and the autumn sun is setting, bathing his skin in golden light and bringing out the red highlights in his dark hair. he takes max’s breath away as he says, “you make it look so easy” with that soft smile again

“yeah, well,” max scoffs. she tucks her hair behind her ear, looks down. “you get used to it, it’s really not that impressive”

“I think it is”

and max really wishes he’d stop looking at her like that, stop making her stomach flutter like that

he continues: “I think it’s really cool. especially now that I know how hard it is”

“I think that might just be you”

they laugh it off and go inside to clean mikes hand

“thanks,” he smiles once it’s bandaged. “and thanks for teaching me... or trying to at least”

max giggles “hey, you’re teaching my sorry ass physics, i owe you one”

mike shakes his head and smiles at her like she’s a sunrise “no you don’t, I like helping you”

max scoffs and blushes and tries to walk away, but mike catches her gently by the wrist

“you know you’re really smart, right?”

max doesn’t know what to say to that, but thankfully mike senses that and keeps going

“and I really do think it’s cool how good you are at skateboarding, and... I’m glad we’re talking more now”

max melts

“so am I”

“and I actually think you’re really funny” he grins

“oh, do you?” max beams. “you’re never gonna love that down”

and now mike is smiling big too, and he says “I think I’m okay with that”

and somehow they’ve drifted closer together, and max is so trained on mikes smile, on how soft and pink his lips look that it takes her a moment to realize how intently mike is looking at her

then their eyes meet, and it’s like that both get it. he caresses her face, and she lets him, leaning into it and placing her hands on his sides

then their lips are meeting, and they’re kissing, and max’s heart is going wild

his lips are just as soft as she imagined, and he’s so gentle with her, almost shy

they’re both smiling as they pull back

“so you know how you’re smart and cool and funny?” mike asks, his arms slipping around max’s waist, making her blush

“you may have mentioned it” she grins

“you’re also really beautiful”

max hides her face in his shoulder, blush creeping over her as she giggles “and you are ridiculously cheesy” but after a moment she meets his eye and adds with a smile “but you’re also smart and cute, and sometimes even funny”

“not cool?”

“never cool” they both giggle and kiss again, smiling into it. “you’re the cutest nerd ive ever met, though. definitely the cutest tutor I’ve ever had”

mike grins regretfully, almost apologetically: “speaking of which...”

max pouts in protest and presses light, slow kisses to mikes lips

“okay, that’s a compelling argument” mike concedes with a grin

they do get their homework done soon after tho, and once it’s done they reward themselves with pizza and more kisses

#madwheeler

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midwinter-fox · 5 years

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Conflicted

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Their kiss lasted for but a brief moment, but it felt like a sweet eternity passed between them. It wasn't heated or wanting; instead, it left them with a faint tingling in their lips, the kind that left one in a daze. So soft was it that it could be seen as platonic. By the time they parted, a deep blush erupted across Leonore's cheeks, forcing her to look down and away in sudden embarrassment.

"I'm.. I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me."

Dettlaff couldn't find the words to reassure her, so he instead tilted her chin gently so as to have her look at him once more. Her eyes reminded him of the Toussaintois forests in autumn - the deep green of her iris surrounded a circle of brilliant copper that enclosed the pupil. It was almost impossible to detect without him being so close to her, but now with her in such intimate proximity, he was silently going over all of the tiny details that made him grow ever fonder. The redness of her face was endearing, and he only made it deepen further when he pressed another soft kiss but this time to her brow. It was a reassuring gesture, one that made apparent that he was in no way upset by her earlier advance.

The silence between them grew, but it wasn't unpleasant, especially not with how Leonore smiled at him now. There was a painful clenching in Dettlaff's heart, one that reminded him that this was, in every way, impossible. Sadness began creeping up in him, only betrayed by the wistfulness in his eyes as he released her from their embrace. She removed herself from his lap only to sit beside him, the tin of heart-shaped cookies now in her hand to make room for her.

If she picked up on the regret in his gaze, she did not make it known. Rather, she reopened the tin to remove a pastry and hand it to him. With a soft 'thanks' he took it and broke it in half, offering a piece to the woman who already held a portion of his heart. They ate the sweets in the quiet of the herb garden, no words shared in favor of savoring each other's company. Even when Leonore's head rested against his shoulder, he kept silent and relished in the tenderness of their moment - a tenderness that he'd have to give up if he was going to protect himself from what he perceived to be inevitable heartbreak.

---

Time was not on their side. All too soon, Leonore stood and kindly excused herself, but only because she still had deliveries to tend to and not enough time in the day to complete them. Dettlaff stood to walk her to the door - after all, it was only polite.

In the foyer, Regis was tending to the broken arm of a child, worried albeit agitated parents standing off to the side to observe. The room may as well have been empty for Leonore and her vampiric companion. Quietly, they walked to the door, ignoring the looks of the mortals. When Dettlaff opened the door for her, she stopped just short to hug him one last time. Though he was electing to ignore the other occupants of the room, he was still hesitant to return the gesture, opting to instead tentatively yet amicably pat her shoulder. He couldn't help but watch her depart for a few moments, and when he finally closed the door, he inwardly sighed. The look on his face was forlorn, but Regis didn't need to see it to know how his blood-kin felt.

Dettlaff retreated to his room with the half-empty tin in hand, and when the door clicked shut, Regis finished up his work and instructed the parents on the care of their child's injury. By the time they finally left, Regis set off to find his dearest friend.

---

The knock on the bedroom door wasn't answered immediately, and for a moment, Regis wondered if maybe it would be best to simply leave Dettlaff alone for now. Just as he turned away, the door opened slowly, but upon seeing that Regis was the only one that stood there, it opened fully.

"It's just me this time," Regis said with a half smile. He couldn't blame Dettlaff for being a little more cautious this time around.

Dettlaff stood aside to let his friend enter then sat on the edge of the bed. The plain white handkerchief was once again in his hand, one of his claws tenderly tracing Leonore's name stitched along the hem with a pale blue thread. The sight was a depressing one, especially since Regis could feel everything. The aching in his chest and stomach, the racing of his mind, the plethora of conflicting emotions that threatened to break the resolve that was so carefully built through years of hardship - all of it was clear as day through the bond they shared. It was almost as if they could share each other's every thought.

"You know, my friend, I'm here for you - irrevocably so. I know you're in immense pain, so if there is anything I can do help you sort through those tumultuous thoughts of yours, please know I would do so without hesitation." Regis was always long-winded, a direct result of having so much knowledge and so little to do with it, but it was something that Dettlaff had come to appreciate, even if he only ever said very little.

"Thank you. I.. I've much to think about." The brooding man's eyes did not leave the simple square of cotton. His thoughts were attempting to take him places he dared not entertain.

Rather than try to press his friend for details, Regis sat on the bed and laid a comforting hand on Dettlaff's shoulder. He seemed to lean into the other's touch until he was all but laying against him. Regis moved his hand to wrap an arm about his shoulders; he knew that, in time, Dettlaff would open up to him, even if he had to be consoled like this for hours.

---

"How do you feel?" the gray-haired vampire asked, having not moved from his spot for a while now. He'd no notion of how much time had passed, but the sun was getting low in the sky outside the window, so he could only assume it had been at least an hour.

The question was either stupid or asked for Dettlaff's own benefit. Of course it was obvious how he felt, both through their blood bond and the emotion being etched clearly on his face. Regardless, it was answered in a low, almost pained voice.

"Why.. Why did you bring her here?"

"Well, I knew there was something wrong, and since you refused to tell me who or what could be the source of your discomfort, I saw fit to try to find the answers myself. I had seen a portion of the name on that kerchief and drew a conclusion after some careful thought. I apologize if all I did was cause you more pain - I sought to help, nothing more."

What Regis didn't know and Dettlaff couldn't bring himself to admit was that it did help, though not in the way that was probably intended.

"You were not wrong in thinking she was the source," Dettlaff mumbled, fighting his sudden desire to say her name. "She is.. Hmh.. I cannot find the words for it. Our meeting was brief, unintentional. I tried keeping distant, but she seeks to get.. close."

How close, he was unsure, but if their kiss was any indication, it was much closer than he felt comfortable with being. Rhenawedd - Syanna, he had to remind himself - had killed the desire in him to love, no matter how strong the desire was. He had no notion of just how desperately he craved the affection he once had until that woman collided with him in the marketplace. While unintentional, he saw now that it wasn't unwanted, but what he wanted was something he dared not reach for.

"Dettlaff," Regis sighed, "your fears are not unfounded. You went through a terrible ordeal - one I myself would be hard-pressed to heal from, even after having regenerated from being melted into little more than a smear. As your friend, however, I would suggest that perhaps it isn't an entirely bad thing to allow yourself a companion that isn't myself or your pack. Leonore has a kind heart and a sweet disposition, something you lack in your life. Were I in your stead, I think I'd allow her the chance to get close, though only as close as comfort would allow. Perhaps if you tried speaking with her about your insecurities, she would be willing to understand."

"She knows what we are."

"Oh?" Suddenly, there was a newfound curiosity in Regis' voice, though he tempered it so as not to overwhelm his friend with questions. "I'm assuming she took it well considering your embrace before she departed," and the fact that she did not scream or flee, he thought.

"I suppose," hummed the other in response. Was it truly such a good reaction though? After all, she saw vampires as little more than fairytales, a horrible misconception in his mind. She described vampires the way one would recall a roguish prince, and that was something he was not. "She is deluded by fiction. Vampires to her are mysterious and alluring, not the monsters they truly can be."

"Is that so bad?"

"Is it not?"

"Perhaps you can educate her. After all, you had the courage to reveal your true nature to her, so the only logical course of action is to ensure she knows what it means."

"And if she fears me?" The thought left a sour taste in the back of Dettlaff's throat.

"It's possible, but another possibility is that she won't. Would you rather allow yourself to wallow in the potentially bad prospects that may never come, or take the risk in the hope - an entirely plausible one - that she'll only further accept you for who you are? After all, you know firsthand that not all humans fear that which is so unlike them."

It was true, Dettlaff had to admit, but the apprehension in his gut wouldn't allow for him to be swayed so easily.

"I.. I do not know.." The unease was apparent in his voice, but Regis simply nodded in understanding.

"Take your time. It isn't something that needs resolving now. In fact, I see no harm in allowing yourself some time to adjust to this newfound relationship. Maybe spending more time in her presence and learning about her will help ease the doubts that are holding you down. An outing might do you some good." When Dettlaff looked at him with incredulity, he shrugged. "Fresh air and the company of friends can do wonders for a troubled soul. I would know, after all. You've heard the stories I’ve had to tell. Tomorrow I've a need to go into town and browse the apothecary for some additional supplies. I neglected to ensure I got everything I needed through Leonore, but now it seems it will give us the opportunity to get you out and about." Dettlaff didn't have a chance to object before Regis gave him a friendly pat to the shoulder and stood from the bed.

"I'll give you some time to think on it. In the meantime, I would try to push the more worrisome thoughts aside for now. Let fate do its bidding - perhaps the topic of vampiric nature will come up naturally so you don't have to look for a way to bring it up yourself."

"Regis, wait." Dettlaff stood just as Regis' hand reached for the doorknob, giving the graying vampire pause. There was a moment of silence as he sought to find the best way to express his gratitude, but he didn't have a way with words like Regis did.

"Thank you. Truly, I.. I could not ask for a better friend." He was gifted with a warm smile in response.

"I feel much the same way, my friend." With that, Regis left to allow him time to think. It would be a while before Dettlaff left his room again, so lost he was in both what was to come and how it felt to be close to someone again.

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xaz-fr · 5 years

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Set in a fantasy world of the semi socialist society Fey Alliance with magic, dick head dragon riders, benevolent necromancers, and even bigger dick head gods of mischief. The Zealous Servant is the story about a guy named Spayar who, has to keep his crown prince of a bff from being murdered by his entire family by murdering them first. Though Spayar just wants to take a nap and find a cute boy to kiss and not have to worry about his corpse potentially being dragged through the street after a war. Better win that shit then.

I will only ping this particular list once and if you want to be pinged for future posts a like or reblog will get you on the next pinglist. Reblogs (especially with a dumb comment but not required) are way more appreciated as it allows other people to see the work

@deadpool-scar-bro @starry-ampelope @golden-lionsnake @aw-some-musics @fullbearauthorclam @ragirl243 @redlion-fr @purple-forget-me-nots @unburdened-billy @trashcano08 @typefulls @slighteyewing @incel-tears @dgmana @genonehell @frxemriss

My favorite thing about Spayar is that no matter how cool he is or becomes this chapter still happens and shows he’a fucking idiot lols.

On the few clear days in the Meltong Basin during the wet season Assarus came to life like an ant hive. Most people tried to stay indoors as often as possible in the autumn because it rained nearly every day, so when the sky was clear and the weather warlockd predicted no rain everyone made sure to make the most of it. Spayar was on his mare in traffic, Duren sitting in front of him, sitting straight up and looking all around. Thankfully Spayar still had several inches on him or it would be a problem.

His mare barely noticed the extra weight. She had a deep brown coat, thick legs, and great big hooves with great feathering. She was a horse who's ancestors had once worked the fields and now were the mounts of royalty and their favored. Von had gifted her to Spayar three years ago when Spayar complained about always having different horses wherever they went. Now she was his, he couldn't even begin to think of how expensive a horse like Spayar's was, trained for battle and didn't even flinch when her rider used magic. Not to mention the size, she was massive, and everyone got out of her way.

"Where are we going?" Duren asked, turning around to look at Spayar, holding onto the pommel to keep from falling off.

"You'll see," though of course Duren knew why. He'd begged and begged Spayar over breakfast to show him how to ride and Spayar had given in if only to just make him shut up. By now they were leaving Bellringer and into South Garden which looked like it was trying very hard to mimic the style of Nedrag and the Garden with it's clean, boxy, buildings and covered in fauna. The city of Assarus or Surassa themselves had no one culture. They were a melting pot of all the provinces, and thus all the kingdoms the Alliance had conquered in its two thousand year being. Parts of South Garden looked like Nedalia or Dalican, there were motifs from the Yellow Hills in South Garden and he saw symbols from the city Peonia painted on the sides of buildings. People from the west of the Alliance had settled South Garden, much like the east had settled in Bellringer with it's gray stone buildings and clocks and its focus on craft rather than aesthetic.

"Shouldn't we be going outside the city?" Duren asked since South Garden was further in and really Spayar just wanted to get to Tradesmens as quickly as possible since unlike Peonia it sometimes mimicked itself after South Garden was one of the most twisting and confusing districts in the capital other than perhaps Cat's Cradle, even the Mire and Downriver were more organized than this.

"You'll see," Spayar just said again pushing his mare through a busy intersection full of people. When they saw his big war horse they jumped out of the way. Spayar was trying to be nice but he was getting annoyed with how busy this damn city was and he had a big horse. Big horses won over busy pedestrians.

"I can see Swan Island from here," Duren pointed once they finally got through South Garden and into Tradesmens. Spayar looked and indeed they could see the holy island from here over the low buildings and warehouses of Tradesmens, meaning Spayar was way off course. "Are we going to Swan Island?" Duren asked, confused.

"No," even as he made his mare head for the river. They came up to the walled bank of the Meltong and could see Swan Island easily. A small lake had formed here in the Meltong river in a low part of the land before it continued its journey south to the Break and the Fea’staal Sea. behind. Swan Island sat in the middle of the lake and it was a large, beautiful park, filled with temples. From here they could see people going in and out of them and people on horses or people enjoying the sunlight on the grass or under the trees.

"Can we go to Swan Island?" Duren asked.

"I thought you wanted to learn to ride," Spayar said.

"Yeah I know, but we rarely go to Swan Island."

"Another time. I'll take you and the girls on Asumsest if you want," and he turned his horse to start down the road, running parallel to the river, towards the Winter Palace at the top of the hill in the distance. Tradesmens was full of canals that went into warehouses from the river and looked more like something from the country of Tipin or even Joti than anything else. Bridges spanned every canal for horses and pedestrians, though they were too steep and high to allow bigger boats through, so carriages had to take other routes. Few people were on the River Road but there were a lot of boats in the river. The Meltong was always full of boats and today was especially bad since it was full of trade ships and barges as well as personal boats with brightly colored sails or sides. At the very least both the river and the river road were orderly.

The River Road wound north and east, through parts of South Garden, where Spayar didn’t let anyone get in his way lest they get trampled by war horse hooves, and then through the entire length of Uptown. The Hillsman children all went to school in Uptown. Mostly because their father could afford the cabby ride there and back every day and Anora’s private secondary schooling there. It was a wealthy neighborhood and it seemed like the was a bank on every street from every major city in the Alliance. At the last everyone moved with purpose here, no dawdling or frolicking about like in South Garden. Here people were all business and people stayed on the side walks and out of the traffic of horses, carriages, and some strange two wheeled contraption Spayar had never seen but flew down the street as quick as any horse. It looked like a buggy but wasn't pulled by a horse. He have to look into that.

When the River Road finally dumped them into Fey's Shadow Duren turned to Spayar accusingly. Spayar just rose his brows at his brother. Duren frowned the Hillsman frown at Spayar and turned back around. In Fey's Shadow the roads were wide and well kept, the manses behind their tall, thick, walls, were every style in the Alliance. The wealthiest people lived in Fey's Shadow and most nobles had houses here as well, and built their mansions in the style of their home province. You could see the entire gambit of architectural styles in Fey's Shadow from the low, spider web-like dwellings of the Wren-Kel, to the tall, low eaved, state house of the Peony. Spayar kept his horse on still and Duren's head kept moving, looking all around, trying to see everything. A lot of the houses were out of sight behind the walls but he tried, to caught glimpses of them through the gates.

At some point they came to the Twin Switches bridges, where the Meltong looped back around to itself and were only a few hundred feet apart. Two identical bridges built in a northern style spanned both parts of the Meltong and as they crossed the first bridge you could sort of see over the thick, protective, wall of the North estate. Duren raised himself up in the saddle a bit as though to see better before sitting back down. The North estate was the most heavily fortified estate they’d seen thus far, and the largest. Spayar knew there were bigger ones than the North’s, but it was up there.

“Who lives there?” Duren asked Spayar.

“The Norths,” Spayar said.

“Wow,” he said, “Do you know them?”

“By reputation, now sit down I can’t see,” and Duren turned right way round and sat properly as they started to cross the second Switch. Very shortly after they’d passed the North estate the road started to slant upwards to the Palace which gleamed like a snow capped mountain from the peak.

There were no walls around the grounds of the Winter Palace, just like the rest of Assarus. There hadn't been an attack on the capital in two thousand years when neighboring nations had thought the young Alliance weak. Even the Federation wasn't stupid enough to attack their northern capital. You touched Assarus and a wrath that couldn't be imagined was unleashed. Not since Sinou's death had anyone tried to take Assarus or rather, Surassa, with any serious intent. The first Asuras had made sure the fear of what the Le'Acard could do would be felt through the ages until the end of time.

No one stopped Spayar as he rode up to the palace and Duren started to shift in front of him in wonder. It was above Duren to ever think of coming to the Winter Palace. His brother had been born and raised in Bellringer and he wasn't a knight, or a courtier or anyone of importance really.

Spayar didn't get too close to the Palace, instead he went around to the side where the stables were, where his own horse had been bred. A stable hand came out to see him when he got closer. "Sir," he bowed when he saw Spayar. Spayar recognized him.

"Oh stand up Jill," Spayar said, unimpressed. The stable hand, Jill, looked up, a rueful smile on his face like what Spayar did to Von Jill bowed to Spayar to annoy him.

The oldest son of a talented seamstress Jill was a spry young man Spayar's age with a gap in his front teeth, large ears, big green eyes, and hair the color of a carrot that stuck out wildly from any hat he tried to wear. They'd been sort of friends before Spayar had met Von, more friends because their mothers were friends. After Jill had finished his mandatory schooling in Bellringer he’d begged Spayar to get him a job in the Palace. So Spayar had and now he worked in the stables, right where Jill wanted to be with his love of animals. "You ain't impression' no one,” casually taking on the low born drawl of those in Middleton where he knew Jill lived, across the river from Bellringer.

Jill laughed and stood up straight, walking over to take the mare's bridle as Spayar dismounted with a grunt. Damn horse sometimes felt too big for him, even with his long legs. "Wha'cha here for?" Jill asked.

"Riding lessons, c'mon Duren," he held his arms up for his little brother. Duren dragged one leg over the saddle so he was sitting with both on the same side and then slid down into Spayar's arms. He wasn't strong enough to catch Duren anymore, his brother too big for that, but he could make sure he got to the ground safely.

"For who? You? You’re one of the best riders I know," and Jill sucked on his gap.

"No no, for my brother," Duren stood behind Spayar. He didn't know Jill, Spayar wasn't surprised, the damn guy slept with the horses now and rarely went home to Middleton despite talking like he'd lived there his entire life. Spayar also didn’t see or mention Jill like he did his actual friends. They’d been boys together but had nothing in common anymore and didn’t really interact except for times like these. "I need an easy horse, lower to the ground than her," he patted his mare's neck fondly.

"Wan’a pony?" he asked, "We have a few of ‘em marshy geldings.”

"Yeah, that sounds fine."

"You got it," and then he turned back towards the stables, leading Spayar's horse away. As he did Jill yelled, "Mavok, get one of the ponies saddled up!"

"Who was that?" Duren asked him.

"A friend," Spayar said, Duren just looked confused. "What?" he asked.

"You have other friends other than the prince?" Duren asked.

"Of course I do," Spayar said irritably. Spayar had a lot of friends, though few good ones, and countless acquaintances he knew more about than he had any right to. "Vondugard isn't my only friend."

"Seems like," Duren said, making a face, "dooim says so a least."

"Dad doesn't know half the things I do," thank the gods for that. “Don’t listen to everything dad says, he’s not always right.”

Duren frowned, not liking Spayar talking about their dad in any negative light. “Why do I have to ride a pony? I want to ride a horse," Duren decided to complain about that instead.

"A pony is fine to start with and probably as much as a horse as you'll ever ride," he patted Duren's shoulder. Duren looked at him sourly. "You're a smith brother, not a knight, you got no need for a horse."

"What about you then? Are you a knight?"

"No," Spayar agreed. Gods no he wasn't a knight.

"Then why do you have a horse?"

Spayar laughed, "More than just knights own horses, Duren. You see people not knights on horses don't you?" Duren nodded slowly. "A horse is just expensive. Expensive to buy, expensive to care for, expensive to house. I'm really lucky to have a horse like mine. But you," he tapped his brother's nose, "will be fine with a pony for today. Once you get better we'll move you to a horse."

"Okay," Duren said, Spayar could see the wheels of Duren's mind turning. But before he could figure it all out Jill was back leading a pony, fully saddled. It was a fairly tall pony, rather thin, with long, narrow, legs, but still many hands shorter than Spayar’s mare.

"Here w’are, one of them marshy ponies of LoHanJo'in," meaning it was a Adoshade horse. They'd bred them from the water ponies who lived in and around the Boggart swamps that took up most of LoHanJo'in province. They were just tall enough to stand above the water line most places and short enough to stay out of the way of the lower branches of the trees in the swamps and small enough to squeeze between trees to escape predators.

"Thanks," Spayar said and Jill handed him the lead.

"His name's Ollie, ‘e's a good boy," and Jill patted the pony's rump, Ollie swished his tail.

"We'll have him back before lunch probably," Spayar said.

"No rush. Hillsman can take him out as long as he wants, Stablemaster said that."

“Really?’ Spayar asked, raising his brows at Jill.

“Aaaah, not in so many words,” Jill said, grinning a gap toothed grin.

“Great,” Spayar said, half laughing, “Take care of my horse while I'm out."

Jill laughed, "She'll be a princess while she's here," he promised.

Spayar grinned and motioned to his brother to follow him as he led him and the pony away from the stables. "Spayar," Duren asked as they went to a field. Unlike most of the land around the capital the hill the palace sat on was hard ground. It was why Spayar had picked up here and not just anywhere, Duren wouldn't have to worry about potholes or wetland.

"Yeah?" Spayar asked.

"Does your horse have a name?"

Spayar looked up from where he was checking the pony's bridal, "Uh... no," he realized. He'd never named his horse. Three years and his horse didn't have a name. It had honestly never occurred to him.

Duren hadn’t been expecting Spayar to actually agree with him that his horse didn’t have a name. "It doesn't?"

"I guess not," Spayar admitted and looked back on his life choices where he hadn’t named his own horse.

"You should name her," Duren insisted.

"I wouldn't even know what to call her," Spayar said, "I always just call her girl."

"That's a terrible name." Spayar frowned, now he felt weird about it. How had he not noticed he'd never named his own horse? He’d had her for three years. How hadn't anyone noticed? Or what if they had but had felt like it wasn’t their place to point it out? Maybe everyone knew Spayar’s horse didn’t have a name and wondered what was wrong with him. It made Spayar feel self conscious about the entire thing. He couldn’t just go around asking people if they knew his horse’s name either because then if they didn’t know then they would. "You should think of a name for her," Duren said.

"I guess," Spayar said, though honestly giving his horse a name now would be more weird since he was so used to her not having one. "I'll think about it, now lets get you up.” Mainly he just wanted to get off the subject of his horse not having a name. Hopefully Duren would forget that they’d ever had this conversation.

He showed Duren how to mount a horse. Duren climbed onto Ollie's back with only a bit of trouble. Spayar handed Duren the reigns and saw that Jill had also given him a long lead line as well. Thanks Jill. "Marshy ponies are really well trained," Spayar told his brother to continue to stay off the subject of his own horse. “So you just need to give it a little nudge to get him going. With your heel... yeah like that," and Duren got the pony to start to walk. "Not so tight on the reins," he said as he let the lead rope out.

"How do I turn?" Duren asked.

"Pull them the direction you want them to go. Not too hard," and Duren did so. The pony started to moved in an arc with Spayar as it's center point. Spayar turned as the pony walked and Duren was so focused on the pony it was like he’d forgotten his brother was an absolute idiot.

"Spayar," Duren said after he'd walked the pony around Spayar in a circle a few times "what's a gelding?"

"It's a boy horse that can't have children."

Duren was paying attention to the pony when he asked, "Like you?"

"What! No. I'm not a gelding," thank the gods he wasn't. He rather enjoyed all his equipment, and all their functions.

"But you can't have children," Duren looked at Spayar.

"I am fully capable," Spayar said, trying not to be irritated. Duren was only eight, he was allowed to be stupid. It was surprisingly difficult to not be angry though. "I just won't."

"Cause boys can't have babies?"

"Exactly," Spayar said, "And a gelding is a horse who's been castrated. It's different."

"Well what's castrated mean?"

"It means they cut the balls off." Spayar laughed at Duren's horrified face. His brother looked down at his lap like to assure himself he was still in one piece. "They only do it to horses,” he assured Duren. That didn't mean Spayar couldn't think of at least a dozen reasons or crimes that would get a man castrated, and not just the balls either.

"Why do they do that?"

"To make them calmer."

"But what about making more horses?"

"They don't geld all the stallions Duren," Spayar sighed, "and the Adoshade only gift out or sell gelded marshy ponies, so other places can't breed them."

"Why?"

"Politics, don't worry about it," yeah only Spayar had to worry about that sort of stuff. "Try and make your pony go faster," Spayar encouraged to get them off the talk of horse balls. First making Spayar come to the realization his horse didn’t have a name and now horse balls. Something was wrong with his little brother. Duren tapped the pony again and Ollie started to go faster.

They were out there for a while until Duren said his legs hurt. "Owww," he complained as he got off Ollie. "Why does that hurt so much?"

"You aren't used to it," Spayar said, patting Ollie who looked ready for a rest and to not go in circles anymore. Duren was rubbing the inside of his thighs, looking pained. "Lets head back to the stable, I'm sure Ollie wants his lunch," and he started to walk, Duren rubbed for a few more seconds before following.

"You rode all the way to Peonia and back in like two weeks,” Duren said, looking at Spayar with something like awe.

"I did," he agreed.

"Didn't it hurt?"

Spayar shrugged, "It's just uncomfortable. You get used to it honestly, from being in the saddle so much."

"Doesn't your dick hurt though?"

Spayar snorted, "Usually the whole area just goes numb before it starts to hurt."

"You've ridden a horse with a numb butt?" Duren cried, eyes wide.

"Yeap," Spayar said. "But I ride all the time. The more you do the less it hurts."

"Oh," Duren looked contemplative a moment. "You're not a knight, right Spayar?"

"Nope."

"Then what are you? You can fight and do magic like a knight and a warlock, but you aren't are you?"

"I'm not a knight," Spayar said, "all magic users are warlocks, you know that."

"Then what are you?" Spayar thought about that a moment. What was he? "Spayar?"

"I'm thinkin'," Spayar said as they approached the stables. Jill didn't meet them this time and they entered the building. "Hello," he called. The royal stables were huge and each stall had a name plaque beside the door. Despite that it was easy to get lost and it wasn’t best to wander without a stablehand to guide you. "Hello," he called again. It'd take them forever to find Ollie's stall on their own. He sighed and started down the stall lined corridor, at the very least he could find Ollie's stall. Though he also needed to find his horse. This was probably a horrible idea. Where was everyone?

They walked through the stables to the other side where there was a covered area that led to one of the two large courtyards that stood guard next to the large looping drive at the front of the palace. There they found seemingly all the stable hands, standing back and out of the way. In front of them was a gilt carriage pulled by a team of four, black, horses of the same sick as his own made and standing beside it was a fair haired woman who was yelling at the holsters. Spayar recognized her by voice alone, it was Von's second oldest sister; Obi.

"What's going on?" Spayar asked one of the stable hands quietly, thankfully Duren had enough sense to be silent.

"Her highness keeps changing her mind about what she wants," they said, frowning. "First she wanted white horses, than brown horses, now black horses, and only females. Something' wrong with the carriage, this or that uhg.”

"Well... I have a pony that needs to be put away," Spayar said.

"At least it's something to do, what's his name?"

"Ollie."

"Right, I'll take him. You got a horse, sir?” they said and took Ollie’s lead. Meanwhile Obi was still yelling, irritated something wasn't happening fast enough. Spayar hated Obi. Spayar genuinely hated few people, but Obi was one of them. She was a handful.

“Yes, she’s a royal breed, dark brown coat, white hairs, Jill put her away for me.”

“Ah, I know that one. I’ll bring her here, sir,” and they left with Ollie.

Spayar turned around when he heard Obi crack one stable hand across the face. "Do not talk back to me," she yelled at the man who was now on the ground, hand over one side of their face.

"Apologizes your highness, I was merely-

She stepped on him, stomped was more a correct term honestly. The stable hand cried out, his sound of pain startling the horses. "I said do not talk back to me!"

"I'm sorry," the stable hand stammered. Spayar knew he shouldn’t intervene. He didn’t really have much to do with the other royals unless they put themselves in front of him. It was less messy and he wouldn’t get to know them and feel bad when he plotted their murder. He was about to turn away and take Duren with him when he recognized the stablehand. He cursed to himself. Of course it had to be Jill. Of course it had to be because Can’dhe liked to torment him. Liked to put things in his way and test his character.

He looked down at his brother and saw his brother recognized Jill as well. What would it look like if Spayar just turned a blind eye? How could he explain to his baby brother that it was better if he didn’t get involved? He couldn’t. Not after Spayar had called Jill his friend. What sort of person left their ‘friend’ to be beat over nothing. He sighed a little. He was about to do something stupid and reckless and he wasn’t looking forward to it.

"Learn to listen when your betters speak," Obi spat made to stomp on Jill again. This time Spayar flicked his hand to cast a spell and caught her heeled foot in mid air with a messy weave that clung to the air on spider silk connections. It did hold her though. She whirled on the stable hands accusingly, fire in her cerulean blue eyes. "Who's doing that?" she demanded.

Nothing for it. He’d started this, he had to finish it. Spayar stepped forward, leaving Duren with another stable hand who didn't need to be told to hold his brother back. "Hello your highness," he bowed to her neatly, extending his arms a bit and wishing he was wearing a bit nicer clothes. Anyone watching saw it as mocking but Obi, unobservant as always, saw it as respectful. What she did see was that he didn’t bow nearly as low as he would to Von or even the king. The king. Her nostrils flared angrily.

Obi was the prettiest of Von’s siblings and loved the gut, emulating all the most popular styles from there. Obi had long, delicate, golden locks she wore in immaculate ringlets of the Dalicites. Her nails were always freshly manicured and painted like a Nedalian. Today they were apple red with yellow tips. Her bright blue eyes were ringed in Aldashi style liner, the wings conservative like she’d done them herself and was intimidated by them. They weren’t nearly as long or elegant as Tassa’s. Even her clothes were western Alliance with a high hem on her skirt over a pair of lace tights and a bodice that showed off her flat, golden, stomach and pushed her breasts together while keeping her shoulders bare. For the aesthetics she was lovely. Under that gilded facade she was a miasma of stupidity and temper made of methane that just needed the slightest spark to erupt in either spouting off something so ignorant it actually gave you pause, or she’d turn you inside out with a temper tantrum.

"Spayar," she said his name like he was a piece of shit on her shoe, "what do you think you're doing?"

"Keeping you from hurting an innocent man," Spayar said calmly, standing up again. He didn't avert his eyes when he spoke to Obi either, he didn't know how to anymore. Von demanded that Spayar looked at him on level when they spoke and he did it out of habit to all people of standing.

Obi looked down and sneered at Jill who swallowed. "If I want to it's my prerogative," she said and snapped Spayar's weave holding her leg like he knew she would. This time when Obi made to stomp on Jill Spayar uttered one word and Obi lost her footing and fell ass up on her back. There was a stunned silence in the courtyard. Here Spayar had to play carefully or he’d have a fire on his hands. He wasn’t a pyromacer either and Von want here.

"That man is under your mother's employ and thus under the protection of the Le'Acard," Spayar said, hands behind his back so no one could see how hard they were trembling. He wasn't angry. He was afraid. He wasn't afraid of much but pissing off someone who could kill him effortlessly was one of them. Von wasn't around to protect him from his sister like sometimes. It was one thing to kill your brother’s best friend when he was alone, it was quite another to do it in front of him. Especially a d’aelar. Normally that would make him immune from most attacks by the Le’Acard. Not from Obi. Obi didn’t care. When she was angry or insulted and not handled carefully she’d take on anyone.

Obi stared at him like she couldn't believe he'd really just done that. He'd just humiliated her in front of a bunch of stable hands. "What are you looking at?" she snarled at Jill who was also staring, slightly slack jawed.

"Nothing, your highness," he looked away quickly

She got to her feet and marched over to Spayar. Obi was shorter than him, but it didn't matter, she was like fire. Literally she was fire and was a pyromacer like her brother Von. For a second Spayar thought the tips of her coiled hair sparked and became flame. Not unheard of for a powerful pyromacer. "You would do such a thing?" she hissed.

Spayar kept very calm. Obi won when you talked back, when you got angry. He'd seen enough of her fighting with Teldin, Tallalsala and Dellin to know how she was, what she did, and how temperamental she was. When Obi started to smolder if you struck back in anger like she did she’d just ignite and you’d lose. It was something that happened often enough and only staying perfectly calm in the face of her wrath would see her be handled out of that spark of rage. “I would," he said.

"I am a Le'Acard, you would lay a hand on me?" she demanded, fire in her eyes, her breath as hot as a forge on his face.

"I did no such thing-

"You still-

"I simply stopped you from making a mistake," he just talked right over her. The only way for Obi to hear you was to just talk over her.

"Me? A mistake?" she laughed.

"So you would rather me tell the stable master you beat one of his best stable boys and then he would tell your mother?" Spayar asked her curiously.

Obi froze. She hadn't thought of that. Of course she hadn't. Obi was an idiot of the first degree. Of Von's siblings she was the least he was worried about because Obi didn't have the patience or brain power to plan a coup, let alone the temperament to see it through to completion. She might know Tallalsala was meeting with the Clan and Teldin had the White Foot and Wren-Kal in his pocket, but that meant nothing to Obi. It was like telling her there was a particular bad thunderstorm outside. It would pass, as it always did. "My mother?" she asked and it was like Spayar had dropped a block of ice on white hot iron.

"Yes," Spayar said, "Asuras Virilia takes great pride in the horses her stable breeds, and thus those who work there. You wouldn't want her to know you were abusing them would you?" Spayar was talking out of his ass of course. Obi was too dumb to know differently. She believed everything people told her. A temper with gullibility did not make a good match and was how you threw sand over the tinder of her temper. He looked at the carriage, "Didn't you have somewhere to be, my lady?" he asked her rather innocently, switching topics and confusing her by now being worried for her well being and her time table.

"I do," she said slowly, unsure what he was doing or how to react appropriately since just a moment ago she’d been ready to burn him alive.

"I would hate for you to be late," there was a driver already sitting in the seat up front, staring at Spayar like he was crazy. "Since I'm sure it's terribly important if you need to go."

"It is," she said and pursed her lips at him. She hadn't even realized what he was doing. How did Von have a sibling like Obi?

"I'm sure they're waiting for you," he moved his fingers and the carriage door opened, beckoning Obi.

"This idiot-

"Had the best intentions your highness. You really shouldn't worry about such trvilalries," and already Obi had gone from being mad at him for humiliating her to complacent and ready to do what he said. If you didn’t set her off Obi was actually very easy to deal with. It was just she was easily set off. You just had to use a certain tone with her and she cooled down and did what you said once you showed her that yes; you were the boss here, not her. Honestly she was a bit like a horse. If the rumors were true she was ridden about as much as the common use horses in the stables too. "Driver," he called, "where are you going?"

"We're going to Mirin, my lord," the driver said. The capital of Kou. That made Spayar slightly uneasy. A million possibilities ran through his head about why Obi would be going to the capital of Kou. She had to have a handler, behind the scenes, trying to put her on the throne. If only so she’d be a figurehead.

"That's a long way," Spayar said, “Who are you going to see?”

“The Lady Lenni,” she said. Spayar wracked his brain. Who was the Lady Lenni?

“Well if you don’t leave soon it’ll be too late in the day to make any way down the Westernlance. You wouldn’t want to put off seeing her another day would you?”

“No,” Obi said adamantly.

“Then we should get you on your way,” he said, barely even in the moment with Obi. He was thinking of who the Lady Lenni was. He helped her into the carriage and Spayar closed the door with a pleasant smile. He waved to the driver once he stepped back and the driver, who finally had to look away from his stupefied amazement at Spayar, flicked the reins to put the horses into a trot. Obi would be out of the city before she realized Spayar had manipulated her and she’d told him where she was going and who she was seeing.

"That was amazing," Jill said from the ground. "How'd you do that?"

"I have a lot of practice dealing with Le'Acard," Spayar offered Jill his hand. Jill took it and Spayar hauled him to his feet. Jill wasn't really wounded, but he was a bit battered. "Go to the palace healer, get healed up, if they throw a fuss say I sent you."

"You're right amazing Spayar," Jill said.

Spayar just shrugged, "Go on, me and Duren are for home."

"Right right," Jill said, and dusted himself off a bit. "Thanks," he said again, grinning his gap toothed grin at Spayar. Spayar went back to find his brother, "What you lot standing around for?" Jill cried at the other stable hands, "You gots stuff to do, so go do it!" and they scattered.

Duren was standing with his mare and another man that made Spayar stop dead, the warm feeling of victory over Obi leeching away instantly.

Teldin was holding onto Spayar's horse’s reins and standing next to Duren like it was the most natural thing he could do. "Your highness," he bowed to Teldin much lower than he had for Obi. Unlike her Teldin actually garnered real respect.

As with the rest of the past few generations of Le’Acard Teldin was fair and blonde, his hair in last decade’s style of long and slicked back. Unlike some of his siblings his skin was the color of flour and his eyes were such a brown they were practically black. He had mean eyes like an owl's and a long, proud looking face. He was well built and filled his autumn coat well. This was the man who threatened Von's life, and thus Spayar's own life; the oldest son of the Asuras.

"What can I do for you, your highness?" Spayar asked, straightening. As he did he noticed that twined around Teldin’s neck was a long, leaf green, snake with eyes too smart to be an animal. A shapeshifter. Spayar knew who it was instantly and it put him on more edge than he already was with Teldin’s appearance. Sade was a powerful warlock and shifter and practically Teldin’s second in command. She was practically another Spayar. Why would she be here with Teldin now?

"That was very impressive," Teldin said, he had the voice of a singer, the type you could listen to forever. "Not many people can so expertly manipulate Obi out of a rage," he said it thoughtfully but also like he didn’t actually care.

"You're too kind, your highness," Spayar said.

"Where's my brother?" he asked.

"Vondugard, your highness?"

"Who else would I ask you about?" though they both knew realistically Spayar probably knew the whereabouts of all the Le'Acard children despite only having been in Assarus a few days since his trip to the gut.

"I don't know. I just came home from serving time a few days ago. He wasn't here when I arrived,” he lied.

Teldin put a mean stare onto Spayar but he didn't flinch, didn't move a single inch. "You're a good d'alaer," Teldin said and cocked his head at Spayar in a very predatory fashion. "But you're wasted on my brother." Teldin knew Spayar was lying. He knew and knew Spayar knew he knew but pushing Spayar to answer would get him no where nor would it actually help him. He was just testing Spayar, like he always did, to see what he could get out of him.

"Your brother takes very good care of me," Spayar swallowed. This wasn't the first time Teldin had approached Spayar about changing his alliances. Teldin and Tallalsala had both done it, since they were the two better players on the field. They knew what it meant that Von had a d'alaer and they didn't. Sinou had had a famous d'alaer who helped him conquer the first realms of the Alliance. It was the opinion of most of the Alliance and especially the Le'Acard that Asuras who had a d'alaer on their sides were more competent rulers, better in every way. That they could instill such zealous devotion in someone meant they knew what they were doing. Teldin, Tallalsala and Dellin all hated Von in equal measure they were jealous of him because he had Spayar; his d'alaer.

Spayar was the d'aelar of this generation, the first one since since the early eighteen hundreds. His kind weren’t common and there was only ever one at a time. If there were more they’d constantly be compared until one was proclaimed the true d'aelar in the style of the d'aelar of old. The only way to get the benefit of a d'aelar now was to either kill Spayar and get your own or convince him that it was in his best interest to side with them. He’d been on the end of enough threats to himself and his family and promises of the world, stars and everything in between to know that it was serious for the Le’Acard. They knew the importance of his title, what it meant for them and the nobles, commoners and soldiers of the Alliance in the coming Conflict. The greatest Asuri had d’aelar. They wanted one too. Unfortunately there was only one Spayar.

"I would do better," Teldin said, "whatever he does for you I can do better.” Not the first promise Teldin had ever given him. “Or whatever he doesn’t do for you,” and Spayar did his best not to just grab his brother and bolt. It sounded like he was being courted and not asked to betray his best friend. Knowing Teldin there was all sorts of meaning behind those words and promises he’d follow up on to get the advantage over his siblings. Spayar did his best to not think about Von like that, let alone his viper of a brother.

"I'm not interested," Spayar said instead, once again putting his hands behind his back so Teldin wouldn’t see how they trembled. He just wanted Teldin to leave him alone. "I am Vondugard's d’aelar. His d'aelar I shall stay. As I’ve said before, I want nothing from you, Teldin,” he said. Sade’s body extended out towards Spayar a bit and the human eyes in a snake’s head were reproachful.

Teldin frowned, “You’re sure? Now’s the time to pick sides, d’aelar. Do you really want to be one of those who visits a temple of Lemp?” All the hair stood up on Spayar’s body. Most of the time just the presence of a d'aelar by a Le’Acard’s side was enough to rally most of the nation to them and they’d come through and sit on the throne. But sometimes, it wasn’t. The crown heir in question was killed. D’aelar knew they wouldn’t be spared after a Conflict’s close like their donalim. The only way out was to leave the Alliance and never return, leaving behind everything and one you’d ever known, or kill yourself. Since suicide was against their religion and the will of Lemp necromancers would assist people in their suicides. The d'aelar who went to temples of Lemp were a select few, and they all did so out of shame and grief when their best friends, or - in one case - their lover, had lost the Conflict.

“Careful,” Spayar said slowly, to not betray the hard beating of his heart. “Your dread is showing, your highness,” he said and bowed a little. Sade flicked her tongue at Spayar hatefully and he wondered what the hell had just gotten into him to say that to Teldin’s face. The prince wasn’t the least bit amused.

Teldin dropped his mare's lead and walked away without goodbye. Spayar's heart was all the way up in his throat as he walked away. He lurched forward, grabbed his horse’s lead and his brother’s hand and dragged them away.

"Spayar-

"Later," and Spayar said and stopped long enough to help Duren onto his horse. He scrambled up after his brother.

"But who was that-

"Duren," Spayar said sharply and kicked his mare into a canter to get away from the stables. “Not. Now.” He looked over his shoulder but didn’t see Teldin. Thankfully Duren didn’t ask any more questions and Spayar could focus on putting as much distance between them and the Palace as humanely possible. It was of course this time, when Spayar felt the stress of Teldin and the Conflict on his shoulders, that he remembered that Lady Lenni was the name of a the High Priestess of Belladha, goddess of wisdom. What a stupid thing he’d think of now and what a pointless person Obi was going to see. Spayar didn’t know if he was more annoyed with himself for knowing who Lenni even was, or for thinking about that instead of the fact that Teldin had just promised him if he didn’t join him that he’d make sure Spayar visited a temple of Lemp.

He really hated the royals.

#Writeblr #Writblr #original fantasy #original story #Horse #zs

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ridiculousn3sswrites · 6 years

Text

You Don’t Own Me

*Thomas Jefferson x Reader

*Summary: Thomas Jefferson has never been with someone like (y/n), and he doesn’t know how to adjust to it.

*Warnings: Alcohol, Angst

*A/N: Kind of a song fic based on You Don’t Own Me. This is that idea I had that could work for either Stephen Strange or Thomas Jefferson, and I decided to write it for Thomas. Also, not gonna lie, I was researching stuff for this and ended up looking at Red Bottoms for like a good twenty minutes. (BTW my tuition and the lack of scholarships that I’m getting has me seriously considering getting a sugar daddy fr)

Thomas found himself scanning the people at the event, trying to find someone that was halfway interesting enough to talk to. He’d been coerced into coming to this charity event, his legal partners telling him it was his turn to show his face. As much as Thomas was known as a charmer, he never really enjoyed the events. They were all just boring to him; the people were always the same, the small talk was unbearable, everything just bored him to death. But then he met her.

She was a wild card, a free woman in all senses of the word. From the moment he saw her from across the room, the black dress clinging to her figure enticingly, he knew who she was, and he knew he had to have her. He watched her for a moment, the red lipstick that stained her lips drawing his attention to every word that she spoke, even if he couldn’t hear them. He felt himself being drawn to her, and without even realizing it, he found himself approaching her.

Her name was (y/n) (l/n). She’d first broken onto the scene when she had managed to defeat one of the best criminal defense attorneys in New York City. He’d heard about it because that attorney just so happened to be the partner of his firm, not to mention his best friend. She was a fresh face to the legal scene, having just finished law school and gotten barred, but she refused to be treated like a novice. Even though she was new, she still acted and performed better than some of the lawyers he’d known for years. Caught up in his thoughts about her, he didn’t notice that she was speaking to him. “Hello?” She asked again, this time waving the hand that wasn’t carrying a flute of champagne in front of his face.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized, finding himself flustered at the fact that he already managed to embarrass himself within a minute. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you around one of these events before. I’m Thomas, and you are?”

“(Y/n). I’m a junior ADA,” she introduced herself. “Now, would you happen to be the Thomas of Jefferson and Madison Law Offices?” Thomas was surprised, obviously he wasn’t the only one who’d done their research.

“That would be me,” Thomas said with a nod. She smiled, obviously pleased that she’d gotten it right. After all, if she wanted to be the best at her job, she would need to know who the best was on the opposing side. She needed to know who she had to be better than.

“Your partner, Madison, he isn’t too bad of a guy, and he’s one hell of a defense attorney, I’ll give him that,” she said with a small laugh, raising her champagne flute towards him. “Definitely not what I expected from a defense attorney.”

“Well, you definitely weren’t what we expected from a new attorney,” Thomas told her. “If we’d known any better, both of us would’ve been defending that client.”

“And he still would’ve met the same fate,” she said with certainty. Thomas was taken aback by that, unsure of what to make of the woman. Within minutes, she’d already proven every expectation he had of her wrong, and even then he didn’t have many expectations to begin with. She was unlike any attorney he’d met, let alone any woman he’d met, perhaps except for Angelica Schuyler. Everything about her drew him in, even more so now that he’d actually spoken to her.

“You’re awfully sure of yourself,” Thomas said.

“I know I’m good at what I do,” she replied easily, her red lips now turned up slightly in a smirk. Her confidence only acted as an aphrodisiac, making him hang on to everything she gave him, and want more.

And so went the night, Thomas and (y/n) going back and forth in their conversations. For everything Thomas had to say, (y/n) was able to match him. For the first time in a long time, Thomas found someone who could match him wit for wit, and wasn’t afraid to back down. It didn’t take long for the pair to find themselves on the balcony, looking over the streets of New York as they talked. “I thought Columbia was bad with all of the nepotism and connections. Pfft, if only I knew how much that translated here,” she said, taking a drink from her champagne.

“It’s never a bad thing to have connections,” Thomas commented. She nodded, but he already knew she had more to say on the matter.

“I’ll agree with you on that, but when you’re required to have connections for every little thing you want to do in the city, that’s when it gets ridiculous,” she told him. “I’m not from here, so I didn’t have the first seventeen years of my life to start getting those connections. From the moment I got here, I was already ages behind everyone else.” He’d heard similar things from other people, but hearing it come from her, this woman that he barely even knew, made it different. What was he even supposed to say to that? Even though he came from Virginia, his father had the money and connections to help make his own law firm a reality, so it wasn’t like he was in the same boat as her.

“That’s… a new way of putting it,” Thomas finally said after a minute of silence.

“Yeah, you could say that,” she told him. They fell into a comfortable silence, her being done with her piece and Thomas unsure of what to say next. Once Thomas found what he wanted to say, though, he was almost immediately cut off by someone practically running onto the balcony.

“(Y/n), thank god I found you. I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” the newcomer said, trying to hide the fact that he was out of breath. After all, the venue was relatively large and he’d probably ran through all of it. Thomas could vaguely place him as someone from the DA’s office, Benjamin something. “Washington wants to talk to you.”

She immediately turned to Thomas, slightly apologetic. “Sorry, I really need to go with him,” she said, already making her way over to Benjamin. Thomas nodded, understanding that she needed to go. After all, Washington was the DA and therefore her boss. If Washington wanted to talk to her, then she had either done really well, or had done something completely wrong. Washington ran a tight ship, with little room for his ADAs to make mistakes.

“I get it,” Thomas said, watching her and Benjamin already leaving. Something inside him panicked, wondering if this would be the last time he saw her. That part of him made him call out her name, and when she turned, he instantly felt like a teenager with a crush. “When can I see you again?”

“I’ll let you know,” she said with a smile before turning back and disappearing into the crowd with Benjamin. Thomas was left standing there, staring after her, for who knows how long. He only snapped out of it when someone came up and started talking to him.

After that night, Thomas found himself thinking about her constantly. Neither him nor his partners had met her in court again, and he found that very little people outside of the DA’s office knew much about her. Though Thomas didn’t let it affect his work in the courtroom, his friends began noticing something off about him. “You know, I know a few people in the DA’s office if you want me to ask about her,” the junior partner of the firm, Aaron, told him.

“What’re you talking about this time, Burr?” Thomas asked, taking off his glasses and rubbing his temples. He had a bad headache, he couldn’t stop thinking of (y/n), and Aaron standing in the doorway of his office definitely wasn’t helping.

“(Y/n),” Aaron answered. “I heard you asking James about her. I know some people that work for the DA - you know, in case I need a favor or two - that probably know her. I can ask for you.”

“And what’s in it for you?” Thomas questioned, immediately suspicious. While Aaron was a hardworking man and a great lawyer, Thomas never knew Aaron to do anything for free. His suspicions were confirmed when Aaron hesitated slightly.

“You’ll owe me a favor,” Aaron finally said. Thomas didn’t like the sound of it, but after weeks of not seeing her, he was beginning to get a bit desperate. She said that she’d let him know when he could see her again, but it was a bit difficult considering the fact that all they knew about each other were their names and workplaces.

“I’ll let you know,” Thomas said after mulling it over for a few seconds. He would need a second opinion on this, and James was currently out with a cold. Again. Aaron nodded in acknowledgment and left the office, leaving Thomas alone to his thoughts once again. He had a new case he needed to deal with, and he couldn’t let his thoughts of (y/n) hinder that. He opened the case file in front of him, ready to buckle down and get to work.

A few more weeks passed and there was still no contact from her. Thomas began to think that they only had that night, as much as he wished that wasn’t true. Aaron’s offer was constantly in the back of his mind, making him wonder if it was really worth being indebted to Burr just to see her again. Thomas had to admit that it wasn’t the best option, but just as he was about to call Burr into his office, James walked in instead.

“Thomas, I need to go to the DA’s office for a meeting with my client and Hamilton,” James said, looking down at the file in his hand.

“And what does that have to do with me?” Thomas asked. James looked up, a brow raised at the shortness from his long-time friend. “Sorry, I’ve just been stressed lately.”

“I’ve noticed,” James replied. “Anyways I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me. Maybe see if you happen to run into a certain (y/n) while we’re there?”

Thomas immediately became flustered at that, even though he had told James about that night, as well as Burr’s offer. “I- I don’t-”

“Thomas, are you coming or not?” James cut him off, not having time for Thomas’s sudden embarrassment. By his tone, Thomas knew he wasn’t going to ask twice. He quickly stood and grabbed his coat from the back of his chair, following his friend out of the office. The entire ride over to the DA’s office, he couldn’t help but be nervous about his impulsive decision. What if there was a reason for her radio silence? Perhaps the time they’d spent at the event had only been an act of politeness.

James could almost feel the nerves rolling off of Thomas, but he didn’t say anything until they reached the DA’s office. “Hey, Thomas,” James said before they parted. Thomas looked over, slight confusion evident on his face. “Relax.”

With that, James left to go to his meeting while Thomas was left to his own devices in the DA’s office. He’d never been here without a real purpose, so he found himself just wandering about, talking to a few people that he knew. As he was talking to Lafayette, one of his other long-time friends, he heard the very person that’d eluded him for over a month now. “Ben, I need that case file on my desk so I can look it over. Can you run over to the precinct to get it for me?” (y/n) said, walking down the hall with Benjamin at her heel. She was wearing a black blazer, a (f/c) blouse, and a black pencil skirt, and looked every bit as gorgeous as she had the night they’d met.

“Sure thing, I’ll try to get it to you before the end of the hour,” Benjamin replied, looking down at his wrist watch.

“Thanks, Ben, you’re the best,” she said, turning and walking backwards quickly so she could smile at him. Thomas watched as she navigated the place with ease, walking into what he could only assume was her office. Thomas quickly said goodbye to Lafayette, going to follow (y/n). Almost immediately after he knocked on the door, he heard her soft ‘come in.’

“Alex, I already told you, I’m not helping with this case just because you have some sort of vendetta against their firm,” she said, not even bothering to look up from her computer.

“Not Alexander,” Thomas said, closing the door behind him. She looked up, quickly standing as she saw that it was most definitely not Alexander.

“Thomas,” she breathed. “Sorry, I thought it was Alex. Speaking of that, isn’t that case James’s and not yours?”

“It is,” Thomas told her. “But James invited me to come with him, and I knew I needed to see you again, so here I am.”

“I’m really sorry about that, by the way. I’ve just been getting an entire load of cases and I haven’t had time to breathe, let alone call,” she apologized, sitting on the edge of her desk. Thomas took a quick look over her, trying to find any signs of exhaustion, but she looked the same way she did at the charity event: perfect. He wanted to tell her that, but was unsure if that would be too forward, considering this was only the second time they’d met.

“How were you planning to do that? You didn’t get my number,” Thomas said instead.

“I was actually planning to drop by your office,” she told him, laughing softly. “But with everything Washington has me doing, I didn’t get the chance to. I really am sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Thomas dismissed it, seeing his opportunity. “We can talk more about everything later. Maybe over dinner? Saturday night?”

“Sounds like a date,” she said, smiling.

“Great,” Thomas replied with a smile of his own. “So, what was it that Washington wanted at the event?”

“He actually wanted to tell me that, if I continue working the way I do now, I have a shot at becoming an ADA before the year is over,” she proudly told him.

“That’s incredible,” Thomas told her. Before she could say anything, her phone buzzed on the table beside her, and she quickly picked it up to check it.

“Thank you. And it seems like Alexander and James are done with their meeting, so you probably have to leave soon,” she said.

“I guess I do,” Thomas said. She handed her phone to him, and he looked at her in confusion.

“This way I’ll actually have a way to contact you,” she explained. Thomas nodded, putting his number in and sending himself a text to ensure he got hers. Not even a minute later, James texted him, telling him it was time to go. Thomas left (y/n)’s office, considerably more satisfied than the last time the two had parted ways.

When Thomas met back with James, he could almost immediately tell that the meeting with Hamilton did not go as planned. James, on the other hand, could tell that Thomas had achieved everything he’d hoped to. “You look considerably happier,” James teased as the two men got into the car.

“Shut up,” Thomas said, rolling his eyes at his friend.

“So I’m guessing you can turn down Burr’s offer?” James continued.

“Shut up.”

After that first date became multiple and eventually a relationship, Thomas quickly learned that, while (y/n) did enjoy the finer things in life, she did not enjoy being spoiled. When he tried gifting her with an expensive pair of earrings that he’d gotten for her on impulse, she made it clear that she was not looking for gifts like that. She didn’t like feeling that she was indebted to others, especially romantic partners, and expensive gifts were the worst for her.

“Thomas, I don’t need you to buy things like this for me,” she told him when he tried, yet again, to give her a diamond tennis bracelet. “I have my own money. If it was an occasion or something, I could understand, but it’s not, and I’m sorry, I’m just weird about this.”

“No, no, you don’t have to apologize,” Thomas said, taking her hands in his. Thomas had to admit that he was slightly confused, he’d never been with someone that didn’t enjoy lavish gifts. It was different, to say the least, especially since he was used to spoiling women with jewelry and clothes, amongst other things. Seeing them wearing things he got them gave him a certain rush that he just couldn’t explain.

That wasn’t (y/n) though. She didn’t want the diamond bracelets, the designer handbags, the things that would mark her as Thomas’s. She didn’t feel the need to be marked as his, just being with him was enough for her, so she rejected every expensive gift he tried to give her.

The boiling point of this disagreement was the first time they went shopping together. (Y/n) needed a new dress for an event Washington and Hamilton had invited her to, and Thomas just wanted to tag along to give his input (and perhaps convince her to let him buy something for her). As they were walking together, (y/n) was telling Thomas the list of shops she was already planning on visiting. Thomas was nodding along, recognizing the shops as high-end designer brands for the most part.

“All I need is a nice, elegant dress,” she said, looking down at the list she made on her phone. “Something that’ll catch attention but not so much so that I’m the laughing stock of the office.”

“You’ll look amazing in anything, I doubt you’ll become the laughing stock of anywhere,” Thomas told her. She just rolled her eyes, trying to suppress a laugh.

“As much as I love the compliment, you should see the ridiculous dresses some of these designers come up with,” she said, pulling him along into the first shop. Almost immediately, one of the store attendants recognized her.

“Ms. (L/n), it’s great to see you again,” the attendant said as she approached the couple. “What type of event are we shopping for today?”

“A cocktail party for work. You know how it is: black, formal, elegant, the works,” (Y/n) said, walking with the shop attendant as Thomas just watched her in her element.

“I think I have something in mind,” the attendant told her, leading her through the store.

After a few dresses (paid for by (y/n)) and stores, the couple found themselves in the Versace store. It was the last stop on (y/n)’s list, and Thomas’s last chance to try to buy something for her. As she was trying on a few dresses the one of the attendants had helped her choose, Thomas went to speak with another on of the attendants. “Hey, excuse me,” he said, getting the attendant’s attention. “Anything that the woman I came with wants, put it on this card.” With that, he handed over his credit card and the shop attendant went off, ready at the register.

When (y/n) paid, Thomas could see the small argument that she had with the attendant he’d talked to earlier. Finally, she gave in, and when she walked back to him with her bags in hand, she had a murderous look on her face, only made worse by the tight-lipped smile she gave him. She didn’t speak to him in the cab back to her apartment, nor the ride up in the elevator. It wasn’t until they were safely inside of her apartment with the door closed and bags put down that she finally spoke. “Thomas Jefferson, what did I tell you about buy me expensive things?” She asked in an eerily calm tone.

“I wanted to get those for you,” Thomas replied instead of answering her question.

“Those were two dresses that cost almost $400 each! Do you know how it looked when I argued with the cashier that, no, I wanted to pay instead of my boyfriend? If they hadn’t known me, they would have thought that you were just a sugar daddy,” she argued. “Thomas, I have my own money-”

“And I have my own money too! If I want to spend my money on you, then I should be allowed to!” Thomas interrupted her.

“Babe, I don’t need you to buy expensive things for me, I can do that on my own,” she tried again. “I’ve already told you that I’m not comfortable with people buying me expensive things, especially now that I can afford those things. It’s just a comfort thing for me, okay?”

Thomas stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her and humming his agreement. He didn’t like it, but if it meant her comfort, then he would hold off on buying her things. Well, he would hold off on it for at least a little while.

“Damn it, Thomas, I am a grown woman! I don’t need you telling me who I can and cannot hang out with,” she fumed as she walked through the door of Thomas’s. Thomas had gone to get her from work and saw her and Hamilton waiting together. Sure, he knew that the two were friends, their nonstop work attitudes meaning that they were often the first ones at the office and the last ones to leave, but seeing them together, laughing and joking as they were waiting, it was different than simply knowing they were friends.

“I don’t have an issue with your friends, it’s just Hamilton,” Thomas tried explaining. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

“Alexander, who has been one of my closest friends since I began working at the DA’s office,” she started. “Alexander, who is in a committed relationship with Eliza, and treats me like his kid sister. That’s the Alexander you’re worried about?”

“When you put it like that,” Thomas started sheepishly. She put her hand up to stop him.

“You realize how ridiculous it sounds, right?” She paused to collect herself for a moment. She didn’t want to get into an argument with Thomas over this, especially after the news she’d just received, but they way he’d acted when he walked up to her and Alexander infuriated her. “When you do things like that, it makes me feel as though you don’t trust me.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, I don’t trust Hamilton,” Thomas said. “Ever since I met him, I haven’t trusted him.”

“Fine. With that line of thought, if you don’t trust Hamilton to not make a move on me, do you also not trust me to stop him?” She questioned. When Thomas didn’t respond, she finished. “That’s what I thought. Thomas, I don’t try to tell you what to do or who to hang out with, please allow me that same freedom.”

“I trust you with my life, and I’m sorry for even thinking that,” Thomas said, stepping forward and taking her in his arms. She allowed him, and smiled when he pressed a kiss to her lips. “Forgive me?”

“I’ll consider it,” she teased.

“So, what was that news you texted me about?” Thomas asked, looking down at her. She smiled brightly at him, nearly bouncing in excitement. “I’m guessing it was something good.”

“You’re looking at Washington’s newest ADA,” she beamed. Thomas let out a laugh of disbelief, picking her up in their hug and spinning her slightly. She laughed at his reaction, getting slightly muffled by the rain of kisses he was placing on her face.

“I’m so proud of you, baby,” Thomas said, finally putting her down and pressing a final kiss to her lips. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more.”

Another night, another networking event. This time, Thomas didn’t have to watch (y/n) from the other side of the room. This time, Thomas walked into the event with her on his arm, looking every bit the power couple people had begun to know them as. People throughout the New York legal scene were talking about them, one of the top criminal defense attorneys and the newest ADA in Washington’s office together were bound to turn some heads. They were both dressed to the nines, her in a form-fitting black dress and black Red Bottoms (both bought on her own) and him in a black tux.

They made their rounds together, talking to people they knew. (Y/n) was used to drawing attention, being the newest - not to mention one of the youngest - ADA under Washington, but with Thomas that attention was tenfold. It was almost suffocating, having to talk to twice as many people now, but she’d never let that show. Thomas was flaunting her and showing her off, not really giving her space to truly talk to the people he was introducing her to other than responding to what questions they had. Before long, Thomas brought her to someone that she vaguely recognized from the DA’s office. She remembered Alexander ranting about a meeting with him, but she couldn’t really place a name to the face.

“(Y/n), this is Aaron Burr. Aaron, this is my girlfriend, (y/n),” Thomas introduced her. He missed the slight look of disagreement she made before reaching her hand out to shake Aaron’s.

“(Y/n) (l/n), ADA,” she re-introduced herself. She could handle the introduction to the others, especially since most of them already recognized her, but she refused to be introduced like that to the infamous Aaron Burr.

“Aaron Burr, junior partner of Jefferson and Madison Law Offices,” Aaron replied. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Ms. (l/n).”

“I hope they’ve been good things,” she replied. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you as well, from Thomas and people around the office.”

“I hope you’ve heard good things as well,” Aaron said with a smile. Thomas and Aaron then began talking about something from the firm, and (y/n) scanned the room for anyone else she had to greet on her rounds. She spied Alexander at the bar, and when Alexander saw her, he raised his glass to her in invitation.

“Hey, I’m gonna go say hi to someone from work,” she said, putting her hand on Thomas’s arm. He nodded in acknowledgement, so she bid a quick goodbye to the two and made her way over to the bar. She stood next to Alexander, ordering a drink from the bartender.

“So, you and Jefferson have been attached at the hip all night,” Alexander said, taking a drink from his cup. “Are you even allowed to be talking to me right now?”

“Shut up,” she said, rolling your eyes. “You know I already talked to Thomas about that. Where’s Eliza?”

“She picked up shift tonight,” Alexander told her. “What’s it like being Jefferson’s girlfriend?”

“Why, you jealous?” She teased. Alexander made a noise of disgust, making her laugh loudly. “No, but seriously, what’s up?”

“Well, I’ve heard a lot of ‘(y/n), Jefferson’s girlfriend’ tonight instead of ‘(y/n), the newest ADA in Washington’s office.’ I thought it was weird, especially since you just got promoted,” Alexander explained. “Also I saw you talking to Burr, so that must’ve been terrible.”

“Not terrible, just awkward,” she told him. “You’ve been listening out for me?”

“Of course, I wanted to make sure no one was talking trash,” Alexander said with a small smile. “I would’ve had to fight them.”

“Damn it, Alexander, you’re supposed to put people in jail, not get yourself in jail,” she laughed.

“I know, I know,” he told her, downing the last of his drink. “I gotta go find Washington, he made me promise to do a check-in before the night was over. See you later, Jefferson’s girlfriend.”

“Fuck off,” she laughed, masking her discomfort. As much as she loved Thomas, she didn’t want Thomas’s name to be the first thing people thought of when they thought of her. She wanted to have her own name, and she knew she had to find a way to make their names separate, especially since they were both part of the legal system. She followed Alexander’s example and downed the last of her drink before returning to Thomas’s side, a smile painted on so no one would suspect she was anything other than enjoying herself.

It was a late day at the office for both of them. Thomas had just started work on a new case, (y/n) was trying to juggle a few cases that were closing, and they both agreed to meet at his apartment when they were done. After finishing what they needed to, they found themselves sitting in Thomas’s living room, eating Chinese food as the television played some random show in the background. Thomas could tell that something was on her mind with how uncharacteristically distracted she was, but he didn’t want to push it. They were both watching the show in comfortable silence, when she suddenly sat up and grabbed the remote, turning the television volume down. She turned to face him.

“Thomas, I’m sorry, but I don’t think this is going to work out,” she said, the apology like honey trying to cover the acid that was the rest of her sentence.

“What? Where is this coming from?” Thomas asked, taken aback. His mind was racing, trying to see what had changed between them, but he couldn’t find anything.

“I love you, and I don’t doubt that you love me, but I’m not what you really want. At least, not what you want at the moment,” she started. Thomas opened his mouth to protest, but she held up a hand to stop him. “Hear me out. You want someone that you can spoil with lavish gifts, and flaunt around at events, and that just isn’t me. I’m not just arm candy for events. I’m more than just Thomas Jefferson’s girlfriend.”

“(Y/n), that’s not what I want,” Thomas said, taking her hand in his. “I want you.” She shook her head.

“Thomas, I know you,” she told him, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. “I know the kind of person you’re used to being with, the kind of person you expected me to be. I was a shiny new toy for you to put on display, but that’s not who I am, nor who I want to be.” Thomas looked down at their hands, unable to say anything. After all, how could he when the woman he loved was tearing his heart out right in front of him?

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Thomas told her, sounding small for the first time in his life. He was never the one getting broken up with, he was always the one breaking up with people. Even as she was leaving him, she still didn’t cease to surprise him.

“There’s nothing you can say right now,” she said. “I’m sorry, I should leave. Just, think about what I told you.” With that, she released his hand and stood, grabbing her bag from the couch and leaving him alone in his apartment. Thomas sat there with his head in his hands, trying to figure out what she meant.

Then it came to him. Everything she’d said, everything he’d done, it all made sense now. He’d tried to make her like everyone else he’d been with, even if she wasn’t. He’d tried turning her into his arm candy, just like she’d said, while at the same time claiming to care for who she was. She didn’t care for his money, she didn’t care for the gifts, she’d only cared for him, and it’d taken this long for him to see it. The epiphany he needed had come to him, and it came with one more piece: if he wanted to win her back, he had to prove that he wasn’t the same person anymore.

#thomas jefferson x reader #thomas jefferson imagine #hamilton imagine

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callmetippytumbles · 6 years

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So Why Can't Kiara Get a Diamond Scene?

Okay now that we are pretty much done in Castelsarrellian and we are headed to the Capitol in this week’s chapter, I feel a lot more comfortable with expanding on my feelings Kiara’s noticeable absence in these past two chapters.

Of all the women that are the core members of the court that we have interacted with, Kiara is the one we know the least about. The book does not definitively define her race. I interpret her as Black-European. For the purposes of this essay, I am going to assume she is Black, but if canon later shows that she is of East Indian descent or even Afro-Latina, what have you, I will go back and update. A lot of my points for this will still hold up, regardless.

Race aside, we still don’t know that much about Kiara going into Chapters 7 & 8. What we knew before those chapters were the following:

Kiara is a woman of color

Her father is a diplomat

She is a polyglot (10 languages including French and German)

She was the one that taught Savannah French before she disappeared.

She has a crush on/is romantically interested in Drake

She wants to work in the ministry

She would like to have a husband as well

She is apparently a good dancer (which she did not even know)

Dassit.

When you look over that list critically, a lot of it is secondhand knowledge, that is to say, we learn this stuff about her from other people, or we can infer it, but it’s not said by Kiara herself. The only thing that we hear her talk about directly is her professional aspirations to be part of the Cordonian Foreign Ministry. The only reason we know that she sees herself getting married is that the MC says that her professional desires are in direct conflict of Kiara wanting a husband and Kiara asserts that she wants and can have both. Work out, KiKi!

When it comes to her personality, what we learn about Kiara is not from direct, one-on-one interactions. Most of it is filtered through Penelope and Madeleine. Whoever is the filter also sets the tone for how Kiara is to be viewed. Whenever you see the favorable parts of Kiara, it��s usually with Penelope.

For example when Penelope was walking in St. Clair’s fashion show, who was her loudest supporter? Kiara. Even when Kiara was matter-of-fact about Penelope’s need to get over her anxiety about bigger events in Capri, it’s not necessarily shown as harsh but as tough love. Now that I think about it, most of the times you see Kiara in the books, especially in Book 1, it’s usually with Penelope. The only times you see Kiara apart from Penelope is when you try to garner her support after Olivia kisses Liam.

Conversely, when Kiara is meant to be seen more in opposition to the MC, it will be done through Madeleine. Like when the MC returns to court at the beginning of book two, Kiara chastises Penelope for being openly friendly with the MC because they are both part of Madeleine’s court now which requires them to be loyal to her.

In book three, we are given the premise of the Unity Tour and that we would be traveling to the duchy’s of some of the core members of the court to convince them to be our allies. This included Kiara. I don’t know why I expected to learn more about Kiara when the writers have shown consistently that they are not interested, but I did.

Our time in Fydelia, gives the MC a laundry list of tasks to accomplish in order to secure the alliances there. The MC has to recruit Madeleine to be our press secretary (which I still have yet to see this play out to something beneficial[1]), resolve the infighting in her family to convince Adelaide and Godfrey to attend.

If the MC is romancing Liam, she also has to contend with easing over the fallout from Liam breaking off his engagement to Madeleine to choose the MC instead. (Liam’s breaking off the engagement is particularly awkward since despite Madeleine being awful she wasn’t an active participant in the scandal against the MC. Tariq’s statement did not indict her, but Liam was still able to break it off. She is right to be pissed about that.)

To achieve these goals and overcome the obstacles that would make this difficult, there are plenty of interactions (free and paid) to glean information about Madeleine to accomplish this. We are in Fydelia for one chapter, but we get a great deal of information about Madeleine from her mother, Adelaide. We get a sense of where Madeleine gets her high expectations of herself from Godfrey. Madeleine has a diamond scene which reveals her determination to achieve her goals.

In the end, you do accomplish your goals, and all of your issues with Madeleine that would have kept her from saying yes were addressed.

We get two chapters in Portavira with Penelope, one that features gaining her alliance and the other still features her prominently. In fact, Penelope is so centered in her chapters, in order to obtain her father Landon’s allyship you have to assure him that Penelope’s needs are met. Emmeline wants the charity polo match to be a success but other than that, you don’t really spend much time with her. Penelope also gets a diamond scene that focuses on her struggles with anxiety and her service poodles. This is the second time that we spend a lot of time with Penelope learning about her and her anxiety and assuaging her fears that being a part of the MCs court would be the same as being part of Madeleine’s court. The first time was in Paris where we were doing this to make Penelope trust us so that she can be honest about her involvement in the scandal. (To be clear her involvement is that she was the one who convinces Tariq the MC had feelings for him, arranged for Tariq to be in her room, and arranged for the photographer to take photos. I know Bastien asked her to do it, but Penelope still agreed to do it.) Penelope does not mention her anxiety directly but spoke of how she would get panic attacks before court events until she got her service dogs and how their absence has made the Engagement Tour that much harder.

By the end of Penelope’s chapters, her concerns about the stressful nature of court life and her needs being accommodated are addressed before Penelope gives her support.

So now in Castelsarrellian, I assumed we were going to spend a lot more time with and learning about Kiara. Especially when going into those chapters, we know so little about her, her background, and her family. I can see that compared to Madeleine and Penelope, the writers had a lot of ground to cover. Then there is the added tension of Kiara was one of the people injured during the Homecoming Ball. If the last time I hung out with you I got stabbed or “hit with a stray knife” that would be a perfect reason for me to be at the very least reluctant to hang out with you again. It’s a lot.

I can understand that everything getting covered in both chapters is really hard. For Madeleine and Penelope, what we gain in knowledge about them personally we lose in learning about their region’s history. I can appreciate those constraints.

What I do not get is while we do get to learn a lot about Kiara’s family, especially her brother, which I will get to in a minute, we do not learn as much about Castelsarrellian as a region, but most importantly we do not learn about Kiara. When you contrast the attention Kiara receives in her chapters to Madeleine and Penelope in theirs, it's quite clear. The contrast is further highlighted when you consider how much we knew about Madeleine and Penelope going into those chapters. Especially Penelope. Also, we still got to learn about their families while they were always centered in that narrative.

As I have already mentioned in my THOTs for Chapter 7, we were in Kiara’s home, but we did not spend a lot of time with Kiara. We met her father Hakim, her mother Joelle, and her brother Ezekiel. In that chapter, we spend more time with Ezekiel or Zeke than we with Kiara.

At the beginning of Chapter 7, we are greeted by Kiara and Zeke. Then during the cocktail hour inside Kiara’s house, she introduces us to Hakim and mentions his full title (Duke Hakim of Castelsarrellian). We do not hear from Kiara again until she provides the window of how the MC and Liam can possibly make headway with him (get into the International Art Association).

After Hakim dismisses himself to attend to the other guests, this is the only moment we get with Kiara that focuses on her...somewhat. She shows everyone to a seating area where they can talk. The conversation that secures her alliance starts with her potentially leaving Cordonia because of being injured at the palace.

After Kiara explains that the MC has to turn that around, these are her options:

Either response gets pretty much the exact same reaction from Kiara:

The same anecdote from Zeke:

Finally Kiara’s agreement to join court and attend the wedding:

There is no real pushback from Kiara, who definitely has reasons to do it. She has been stabbed at a court event. No one has really mentioned that a lot. The MC acknowledges this when she greets Kiara at the entrance to her home. It doesn’t get more than a passing mention from Kiara. No one else talks about it. Not her family, or the other characters. Even Liam, the King, does not address this directly with her.

Also, there is no real effort to convince Kiara either. The appeals that everyone, mainly the MC make are based on a sense of duty towards Cordonia. “I know you want to do what is best for Cordonia” or “Cordonia needs you. What kind of diplomat leaves when their kingdom is on the line?” They address her desire to fulfill her civic duty, but it doesn’t solve or even point out the previous threat to her safety and how that will be rectified going forward. It's treated as a nonfactor in the discussion even though it is a factor in her family choosing to go to Switzerland.

I can only excuse this if Kiara’s injuries were minor...something that we don’t know entirely since once again so little is said about it, we don’t know for certain. All we get is this from Liam in Chapter 1:

“Caught by a stray knife” is all we get. It could have grazed her, or the knife could have been lodged somewhere not fatal. We don’t know which.

After Kiara’s support is given, the entire focus of the chapter shifts from Kiara to Zeke. The first diamond scene does not even feature Kiara at all. Instead, you are learning about wine with Zeke while trying to make him feel at ease. We just met this dude, and we know more about him than his sister who has been here for 2 whole ass books. Deux. Let me remind you that we did not meet him until earlier this chapter.

In fact, after Kiara leaves to help Joelle stop Hakim from making everything Naija green and white, we do not see her again for the rest of the chapter. She gone. Her purpose, her unconditional support, has been given. That is all we want from her.

We do not get to see Kiara again until late next chapter. She does not show up again until the international food festival part of the chapter, and that is if you buy the diamond scene. If you chose not to spend your ducats (because you save them all for sex, I won’t judge), you don’t see her until after you have secured Hakim’s and Joelle’s support. Even then it’s mostly to talk about how you got her parents support. When you can prompt her on another topic, two of the three choices are about Zeke. You know the guy we just met the last chapter.

The last one isn’t directly about her, but it is about how she grew up. It points out that even though her family is the type to have long drawn out discussions about everything, they have honest and open communication and do not debate their love for each other.

After that interaction, she is not just going to hang with her brother and BFF. Nope. Kiara has to handhold these two to handhold. Deadass.

At the end of the chapter Kiara set off to join us on the rest of our travels, and we know the teensiest bit more about her, but we know more about her family than we got to actually see her. Meanwhile, Zeke, who just got here, had a diamond scene already and is potentially being set up for Penelope. Zeke got all of that shine (which I suspect is only because of the Penelope pairing), we can’t even get recently lotioned Rashad to bat a lash in Kiara’s direction (let alone have her and Drake have a moment). They may allow that happen at the Capitol. Maybe.

Since I am talking about Kiara romantically, let’s go there. We first meet Kiara when we are introduced to the other suitors for the Crown Prince in Book 1. The first thing she says in the entire series is “Le prince va tomber amoureux de moi” or “the prince will fall in love with me.” After that we never see Kiara interact with Liam. Keep in mind we see Liam interact with Olivia, Madeleine, and Penelope. The MC interrupt Liam and Penelope when she is talking about her poodles. Olivia is frequently taking Liam away from the MC. Also, you see Liam and Olivia talk about growing up together. Madeleine and Liam interact during the gift exchange sequence in Chapter 18.

Kiara, on the other hand, is not seen getting any time with Liam.[2] We don’t even know what gift she got him in the gift giving scene, but we know everyone else’s. Even in the most recent chapters we still do not see Liam and Kiara interact much. It’s actually Liam who seeks out Zeke’s approval first. The story just continues with that focus.

Outside of Kiara and Liam’s relationship which is nil because we don’t even see them interact much. Kiara is written to be at least attracted to Drake. We first see this in Book 2 Chapter 3 when Drake helps to lift a beam off of her when she trips and falls. (Kiara was trying to lift the beam by herself because Penelope ditched her.) It’s also one of the few times one of the LIs is seen from someone else’s gaze as opposed to the MC’s. Drake is written to not be interested in her. This happens again at the tea party scene. Drake is interested in finding out more about Savannah and Kiara is subtly flirtatious when she mentions that French is her favorite language because it’s so romantic. When the MC points out that Kiara is interested in him, Drake responds by saying that he doesn’t think he is her type. Finally, when Kiara sees Drake at her home, she compliments his suit showing clear interest, and he shifts awkwardly under her gaze (if he is single) or announces that he is engaged if the MC is betrothed to him.

Even though Kiara may have eyes only for Drake, it’s not that she doesn’t get noticed by other men. During the garden party before the send-off, Rashad points out that he admires Kiara’s ambition. Too bad that she follows Madeleine’s shitty advice to not speak very much English to maintain an air of mystery, though it just puts Rashad off since he does not speak French.

This is some of the better treatment Kiara gets in terms of the writing since at least the writers are willing to write that someone can be interested in her and not be threatened by her ambition. So kudos there. Other than that she frequently gets the short end of the stick. She does not get to say much about herself directly, she is frequently paired off Penelope and Madeline, as foils at best and as an afterthought to the scene at worst, and when parts of the narrative should be about her, they aren’t.

I didn’t forget about Zeke’s ass, and now I am back for it. What was most bothering about Chapter 7 for me was that we spent a lot of time with Zeke even though does not even want to be part of court or actually be a diplomat like his father. Zeke even says that. Why is Zeke all of the sudden important when next chapter is may not even be there because he is not about that court life? Why do we care about if Zeke is going to show up if we do not see him again until the end? It’s like the writers went out of their way to not have to write about Kiara. The writers curved writing about Kiara faster than Rihanna curved Drake at the VMAs.

It’s not like Zeke’s desire to not be a fixture at court and Kiara’s desire to be part of the foreign ministry could not fit in the same chapter. You could talk about Kiara wishing she could take on the responsibilities for the duchy that Zeke obviously does not give two shits about but the patriarchy is like nah.

Why doesn’t Kiara get a diamond scene?

With that said, I can see why they may not want to write a lot more for Kiara. It may mean having to talk about race in Cordonia, and nobody wants to do that. The writers can avoid talking about race with the other characters because they are read as White by default. Even Liam and the MC who are customizable don’t talk about their race. Why they don’t is understandable. Coding for multiple races and experiences is tasking and risky. Especially when you are mindful of the MC’s American experience and understanding of race versus Liam’s European experience. That’s a lot, and I can understand and appreciate why they just opt out.

Like Liam, Kiara’s experience with race wouldn’t be an American one but a European one. From my understanding, the Choices writing team is America-based, and they may not be as knowledgeable about the difference between the two experiences. It’s also why they may not have even disclosed her race.

I can appreciate those concerns. If it isn’t because of race and not wanting to talk about it, why else would Kiara be treated this way? I mean, if we are really going to do the colorless “she just happens to be not white” route then why doesn’t she get the same opportunities for narrative exploration that the other women of court seem to get? Madeleine gets a whole fucking redemption route after basically in no uncertain terms revealing herself to be a narcissistic sociopath. Penelope gets her anxiety explored. Olivia is expected to receive a dense storyline about her storyline when the Unity Tour stops in Lythikos. Then why was Kiara made the secondary character in her own home? Let’s remember that Kiara was injured during the Homecoming Ball (which I again suspect is mostly so that people can’t argue for Kiara to be the MC’s new press secretary). That injury was addressed only fleetingly, and then we do not spend much time with her after that. Why?

With all of that said, the writing we do get for Kiara isn’t terrible. When she is written and thought of (not just included as an afterthought), that writing does come across as interesting and nuanced. Kiara is smart in her own right, she speaks 10 freaking languages. Drake questions if he is her type. Rashad is not threatened by her ambition. Her family loves and respects her and her goals. It’s not like Kiara’s character needs a whole revamp or anything like that. Kiara needs to be present. I hope we get to see that a little more in the book.

Those are my thoughts on Kiara for now. THOTs for last week’s Chapter will be up later today.

1. I have never seen Madeleine as so uniquely skilled or adept at being a press secretary that she is the only choice, especially when there were other characters in-universe that are just as skilled, like Kiara and Justin. Both Kiara and Justin were injured during the Homecoming Ball pretty much to force the MC to have Madeleine be the press secretary. This is fucking bullshit JSYK. ↩

2. We see Liam and Hana interact in group scenes but not romantically because both Hana and Liam are far more interested in the MC than each other. The only reason we do not see Madeleine interact directly with Liam more is that she is more focused on her relationship with Constantine and Regina. ↩

#the royal romance 3 #trr kiara #choices the royal romance #playchoices the royal romance

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loladelores · 3 years

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Boston:

-Chile had long been behind us for a while now. At least physically. Mentally, that was still up in the air. The days of summer were starting to bleed into fall almost, the nights turning colder and with each passing day, the way we had left still played on loop in my mind. Rio was known for working his magic on foreign lands but to say we made it out alive was putting it modestly. Try by the skin of our teeth. The jet barely made it off the ground with sirens following along after us. It wasn't a straight shot to Florida like I had hoped and by the time we had arrived, @AFuerteRosa was going into labor. Time had a way of coming to a screeching halt because from the moment we stepped off the plane onto US soil, my niece was all we breathed. And just like father time, the minutes sped up with Lydia being all the house was talking about with her new life being celebrated, rightfully so. To see Memphis holding such a delicate and fragile creature was enough to make my head spin. And a grin to take up residence on my face. He was an old pro at the dad thing if you asked me. Watching him step into the familiar role and it be his actual kid this time around was a breath of fresh air so to speak. We hadn't spoken in depth about what happened while I was away yet because of her arrival but he knew the gist. And all my brother cared about was that we were home now and safe.. Looking over at @LaLolaDelores, I would catch glimpses of a smile here and there but for the most part, she had been sticking to the room. Only opting to leave it when she absolutely had to. Which was no way to live I had decided finally.- Still no regrets, Skirt?

Lola:

::Nothing usually scared me. Till now. Nor did I care what people thought about me. Till now. Suddenly I was in a place where I cared way more than I wanted to admit about what @MindYourPanties’ brother and his wife thought about me. I didn’t think much could deter him from being with me. And normally, that would’ve been enough. But for some reason it was important to me that they actually liked me too.

Looking over at Binx who had made himself at home already, sprawled out on the bed, I shook my head. I was just thinking how I was like a feral cat who forgot how to be around other humans. But Binx actually was a feral cat when I found him, and somehow even he figured out how to fit in just fine.

Every time I was around @AFuerteRosa and @InTheHandsOFate, I clammed up. I didn’t know how to do small talk. So, I opted to not talk. Instead I hid in the room as much as possible. Figuring the less time I was around, the less I could do something to make them dislike me.

The exception to the rule was when Lydia was around. I didn’t dare get too close. She seemed too breakable for someone like me to touch. But there was something about her sweet innocence that I found refreshing. When she was in the room, I couldn’t help but smile. It was a welcome feeling that just added to the reasons I was glad I came. Turning my attention back to you at your question, I offered you a genuine smile much like the ones Lydia pulled out of me, and shook my head:: No regrets, mi querido.

Boston:

-"No regrets, mi querido." It had been the last thing you said to me and even now, those words rang true. I would do it all over again if it meant having you and this life a million times over..

Our departure had been quick and the thought of leaving everything you had ever known behind, hadn't set well with me at all and while we had been getting settled in here, I had made a few calls back to Rio, checking things out. Plans had been made and set into motion that would be revealed in time but for now, all I wanted was to make the adjustment to US and Miami mostly, a favorable one. The time spent here, was one I didn't want you to forget either.- I think a day out on the beach is in order. I've seen you looking out the window. -That had been true and when that smile peeked out again, not just from your lips but from under your lashes too, you knew you had been busted. The eyes really were the windows to your soul.- Or maybe a little painting, hm? |Smirking, the rain season was upon us and while it was normally sunny being Florida, there were times when the overcast won out. This was not one of those times.- I shall let you pick. -One thing was for certain though and that was regardless of the choice, we would be leaving this room. Either now or later tonight.

Lola:

::The mention of the beach had my heart jumping with excitement. I had always dreamed of visiting an American beach. And according to friends growing up, they were a lot different than the ones I was used to down in Chile. I couldn’t help glancing back out the window as I thought it over. I had been so close now, but still hadn’t experienced it. So the choice was clear:: Beach first. ::nods seriously:: I can paint about it later.

Boston:

-I was going to hold you to that. We both knew I was and when I took your hand, pulling you up from your chair, I said as such when my lips claimed yours briefly before we headed out.- I look forward to seeing those paintings too. -Pulling back from that kiss, I grinned and tugged you away from the room finally. The outing had been planned since our arrival but today was the day. The beach was set in our sights and as we loaded up the car, I thought about what your first reactions would be. Would you hate it? Would fall in love with it like @InTheHandsOFate and @AFuerteRosa had? Curiosity was piqued for sure but the desire for you to love it was strong. I had taken you from living in your own personal hell with a promise for a new life. One filled with an abundance of possibilities. I knew I wanted to take you through Little Havana, letting you see how the culture thrived on the way to the beach. Giving you a show of what was to come for you as we drove by the galleries and shops once the trunk was loaded up with the surf board in the back seat. Our trip to the beach was underway.

And every once in a while, I would glance over to see your reactions with every block we drove down. The beach was just the icing on the cake with your smile making my own grow wider.- Just a taste, Skirt. Just a taste.

::That sparkle in your eye when you mentioned holding me to it had a thrill of excitement going through my body. You didn’t know it yet, but you were about to be my canvas. And I couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped me, most likely alerting you to my thoughts.

I had been dreaming of this moment all my life. But it had turned into a small obsession since we boarded that plane and I knew the possibility was near. Patience was not my strong suit. And the way my leg bounced anxiously in the seat next to you made that abundantly clear. I was just about to open my mouth and ask how long I would have to endure this torture when we pulled on to the colorful streets of Little Havana and my hand flew to my mouth in a gasp:: It’s… ::my eyes wide with wonder, I looked around in an attempt to absorb every last sight. The color and culture had a smile taking over my features as it made me feel like home. Not the hell that I had just escaped. But home. Back when I was a child and would wander the colorful streets of Chile with my papa. Looking over at you with the excitement clearly written all over my face, I took your hand in mine, giving it a light squeeze:: It’s like the good parts of home.

Boston:

It pleases me that it reminds you of the good. -That was all I wanted for you with this trip. There was no place here for any of the bad and for me, that was all behind us now. The small piece of pie I served with the detour through what I loved to call the scenic route, brought an energy to you that I hadn't seen since we arrived.

A happiness that took over your features that would shine through with each shop you saw and that was just a slice. It wasn't the whole pie either. Taking my time, I turned at the street corner being careful with Memphis's prized convertible and grinned wider when I squeezed your hand back, watching you rest your chin on your arm as you continued to drink it all in for a little longer, loving that little laugh that escaped when you did.- Not much further, Skirt. -Chuckling, I took another turn and parked the car finally when we reached the beach.- You ready to see what this is all about? -Giving you a wink, I brought your hand up and kissed the back of it before we got out and started to explore.

Lola:

::At this moment in time, gone was La Lola. This was all the girl with a heart full of dreams. Delores. Little Lola. I couldn’t find it in me too even fake the hard exterior. Which I guess made me extra vulnerable. My smile faltered just a little at that thought before I looked over at you and a sense of peace washed over me. I knew you would keep me safe to be vulnerable. And now that smile was back but even wider as I relished in that sureness I had always longed for. With a happy laugh, I wasted no time climbing out of the car. Pausing only briefly to close my eyes and tilt my head back, allowing the warm sun to wash over my features as I inhaled that salty air. Looking at you again when I reopened them and whispering:: Perfecto. ::letting out another laugh, I dropped your hand and ran down that walkway…boardwalk…whatever straight for that sand I had been dying to touch::

Boston:

-I couldn't forget that look on your face when you threw your head back to greet the sun. Almost as if in thanks and when I saw your smile turn wider, I couldn't find it in me to stop you when you took off running. Just like a kid in a candy store you had zoned in on that sand and I knew you couldn't wait to feel it beneath your feet. That warmth between your toes.

Chuckling more to myself now, I watched you for a few more minutes, making sure to see where you finally slowed in your run to kick off those shoes and dig right into our day when I popped the trunk to gather up the bags, surfboard being last before I skateboarded made my way down to you. Once I had reached you, I set everything down to spread out and snaked my arms around your waist, pulling you close.| I think this is my favorite look on you. Is it called happy? -A slight tease that I followed up with a kiss when I dropped one to your lips. It was the truth though and I gave you a squeeze around your middle to drive the point home. No further words needed between us as I enjoyed this moment with you right then.-

Lola:

::I had one goal, toes in the sand. I wanted to see if there was a difference. More importantly, I wanted to enjoy it without fear of what was creeping up behind me.

The second I reached the sand, I was haphazardly kicking off my shoes and digging my feet into the sand. The silky feeling earning another laugh that reminded me of Lydia when she discovered something new. Which just had me laughing a little harder at myself. Only to let out a little squeal of surprise when you wrap your arms around my middle. The kiss you drop to my lips causing my body to melt into yours with one of those happy hums I always heard Lita do when Memphis would kiss her:: Si. Happy. ::nods with a smile:: I am happy. ::twists my feet in the sand, not caring how silly I probably looked:: It's so soft!

Boston:

Just wait until you feel it when the waves wash up over your feet.

-If this was just a fraction of what life was going to be like with you, I wanted it. The desire to demand it had taken root and witnessing the excitement you shared through those eyes, how could anyone in their right mind ever say no? With a new life, came expectations. Even if you hadn't voiced them yet, they would come and when they did, I vowed to meet each one right then and there, silently.- Why don't you take a closer look while I set up, hm? -Tucking a strand of your hair back behind your ear, I kissed your temple then your lips again.- Maybe we can look for some seashells once I'm done.

Lola:

::My gaze flicking over your shoulder to the waves hitting the sand behind you at your words. I'm sure you could feel the way my body instantly wanted to drift over there next. The only thing that was able to pull my attention away from my new goal was when your lips were on mine again. Kissing you softly, I gave you all my attention until you released me:: Seashells. ::nods seriously, my mind already painting my next canvas:: I will use them in my next piece. ::Offers you one more smile before practically jogging to the edge of the water, observing for a couple of seconds and then stepping closer. As if the water accepted the challenge, a bigger wave came in hitting me higher on my legs than I anticipated and wetting the bottom of my dress skirt earning a scream of surprise followed by a hearty laugh::

Boston:

-I could have stood there for hours and watched you. Instead, I captured every side of you that I could in that moment. All the times I saw that smile radiate brighter as those waves kissed your feet, your laughter filling the air acted as the chef's kiss to the picture you painted just for me.- Just one more second...That's all I need. -Finally tearing myself away from the beautiful sight of you playing peek-a-boo with the ocean, I opened the bags to see what all had been packed. Shaking my head, I started with the blanket first, the food and wine were next as I made a mental note to thank my brother for his help.

"No breakfast burritos, Chico. You woo her properly." He would be kicking my ass at the presentation but I knew you. As long as we were together, where we sat our asses really didn't matter. Right?- One last thing.. -Grabbing the flowers carefully they had been Mama Stone's favorite and I laid them down next to the spread, kicking my chin up in time to see you running back. My grin widening further.- What do you think so far? I do good?

Lola:

::With the bottom of my skirt soaked and my cheeks sore from laughing, I finally decided to run back to where you had set up our spread. The flowers catching my attention first thing as I fall to my knees and reach for them, bringing them to my nose and breathing in the sweet scent:: Perfecto. ::laughs, lowering the flowers:: This is the word of the day. ::leans to place a soft kiss to your lips before smiling again:: Perfecto. Gracias, mi querido.

Boston:

De nada, mi precioso tesoro. -Chuckling, I was happy the flowers were a hit. That everything was perfect and to your liking when I brought you in closer for another kiss. Lips lingering for only a moment when we both break out in grins and I motion to the food.- I think we should toast to our first real date in Miami. To us and our new future. What do you think, hm? -I was already reaching for the wine glass, handing yours over first before taking my own to hold it up with you.- Anything you wish to add, Skirt?

Lola:

::Nods along with each thing you want to toast to, the mention of the date still filling my body with excited energy. Never once had someone attempted to do all these thoughtful things for me. It almost worried me that I was in a dream, and would eventually wake up in my bed alone in Chile. Furrowing my brows at your question as I think it over, beginning to shake my head before stopping myself:: Si. To not looking over my shoulder everywhere I go…

Boston:

To us then and our new beginning. To a life of never looking over our shoulders and only forward, Skirt. -With that said I nodded in agreement, clinking my glass to yours in our toast before taking a long drink. My gaze never left yours once I had finally killed my glass and I chuckled low, offering you some of the brie with the bread, the grapes too.- You have to at least try it before we head out for seashells. It's good. I promise.

Lola:

::Clinks my glass with yours before bringing it to my lips for a tentative taste. My brows popping when it’s instantly a good one, and takes a deeper pull. Refraining from licking my lips when I finally set my glass down:: It looks a little like queso fresco. No? ::reaches out to take the bread from you, lightly poking it with my finger tip:: Es lo mismo?

Boston:

Same because I think that might be what it is actually. |I laughed, grabbing up the knife to spread some of it onto the bread for you while you held it, amused as you still inspected it again before taking a small taste.

There were all these firsts with you. Some, I couldn't wait to experience with you too and as you finally started to taste everything that we brought, I let the cat out of the bag. A relationship built on lies, even small ones, was no relationship at all according to Mamá Stone and I wasn't about to tarnish her memory by making her soul weep in the hereafter.- I have to be honest, Memphis helped pack this together. I would love to take credit but I really wanted this to be perfect for you.

-The truth always sets you free and as I watched you enjoy the mini feast that had been prepared, I gently pulled you closer to sit between my legs so I could feed us some grapes next, admiring the view of you as we got our fill on all the food.- You ready to find those seashells?

Lola:

::Gives the cheese a small poke too when you spread it on my bread then takes the smallest little mouse bite, so lost in trying to taste the little crumble I had put in my mouth that I didn't realize you were watching me until I heard that low chuckle. Flicking my eyes up to your face, I let out a laugh of my own at myself before taking a bigger bite. The relief that it was delicious causing me to do an embarrassing hum-like moan:: It's good! ::My eyes wide with excitement as I grab for another piece, needing to taste more. My next pause was when you said you had to be honest. My body visible tensing as I hold my breath without knowing it. Then blinking in disbelief when you tell me what it was that you had to confess. It took a couple of seconds for my brain to catch up to the fact that you were only talking about the food as I dropped my eyes to the spread and burst out laughing way harder than necessary while the relief flooded through my body:: Should I give him my kisses of thank you then? ::looks up at you when you pull me between your legs with a teasing smile. You and I both knew there was no way I would really do it:: And I want to find lots of good seashells for my next painting. So I'm taking yours too. ::smiles a little wider now, my gaze still locked with yours::

Boston:

No.

-The answer was final. Blunt even if I were honest when you mentioned giving @InTheHandsOFate my kisses, all the praise and I shook my head to drive my own points home as my lips curled up into a grin again for you. There were only two.-

One, they all belong to me. All the kisses and your love. Two, his woman owns daggers. Don't let her sweet exterior fool you. She is just as lethal as you are. @AFuerteRosa

-Another truth that left my lips as I chuckled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder when your hum turned into one of approval instead of the kind I made come out of you and I lean in to whisper so that only you could hear.- You know how women can be. Especially Latinas.

-There was no way around it. I grew up with one and I had seen with my own two eyes what that fire could do with just one look. The stories of La Chancla were legendary in my household. And that was if you were lucky enough just to get the shoe. Laughing now, I gave you a wink before popping another grape in my mouth, knowing you had been joking and I urged you up with a soft pat. The seashells calling our name.- Let's go and continue our adventure. I got the pails right here.

Lola:

::That firm no sent a thrill through my body. I loved how you knew exactly how to be with me. Firm enough to get my attention. But not overbearing to make me want to fight and rebel. When you mentioned the lethal hidden under the sweet of @AFuerteRosa, I was suddenly more interested in her than I had been before. Perhaps we had more in common than I thought:: Mmhmm. ::That was all I had to say when you mentioned how us Latinas could be, and I let out another laugh when your breath tickled my skin with your whisper:: You are all I wish to kiss anyway. He's cute. But you're more my type. ::offers you a wink and nips your chin before pulling myself to my feet and dusting any crumbs from my skirt::

Boston:

We are cut from the same cloth so I will give you that. He's not bad on the eyes.

-Chuckling, I got up when you did and watched as you dusted yourself off. That smile still bright like the sun and wasn't it perfect how the rays hit your hair too.. In that moment, you couldn't have been more beautiful if you tried and just because I could, I pulled out my cell to snap a picture of the work of art that stood before me that was all you and grinned wider when you puckered your lips as if to blow me a kiss. Perfection in rare form, that's what you were. Snapping a few more when you started to laugh again playfully, I decided that carefree looked damn good on you too as I watched you take the pail I offered and followed along beside me. Every once in awhile looking around at the other couples on the beach as our seashells awaited us.- I've never seen this happy before, Miss Fuentes. I hope everything so far is to your liking. -Stopping to pick up a stick, I started to write in the sand for you before we started looking for the shells.- Here is good, no?

Lola:

::Watches in amusement as you write the word "Florida" in the sand before holding my hand out for the stick. And as soon as you passed it over, I started writing my own words beneath it. "B+L = Por Vida." Glances over my shoulder at you with a laugh. It was probably one of the most ridiculous things I had done since I was a teenager. But I couldn't make myself care. That was just another thing I loved about you. You made me feel so carefree:: Si. ::turns to face you with a slow nod of my head:: Here is... ::shrugs my shoulders with a laugh that I'm about to sound like a broken record:: Perfecto.

Boston:

-"B+L = Por Vida." For life.. You didn't even know the half of it truly. Even as I watched you write it in the sand, my grin grew with each letter and symbol you drew, trying my best to contain my own excitement when I motioned to you with a soft kick of chin.- I'll trade you, mi precioso tesoro. These for the stick?

-Holding my hands out to you, I showed you the shells I had gathered up, adding a nice cherry on top.- I think I saw some different colored ones too over here if you want to take a look.

Lola:

::Pretends to eye the shells in your hand, and really contemplate if I was willing to give up the stick as I hug it to my chest before flicking my eyes up to yours. The way you raised your brow at me, the amusement plain on your face causing me to lose my composure and let out a laugh as I pass the stick back to you, cupping my hands so that you can dump the seashells into mine. The different shapes already painting a series of ideas in my head for what I could do with them as I gently shake my hands to cause them to shuffle and expose some of the ones that were once hidden:: Si. I want to have a few colors to choose from. ::Finally brings my attention back to you and smiles::

Boston:

-After placing the shells in your palm, I took the stick you offered back with a grin, giving a nod in return too.- I can't wait to see what you make with them, Skirt. -It would be your first piece you created since we arrived here in the states and I would be lying if I didn't say I had been looking forward to seeing how the change of scenery inspired you. Leading you further down the shore, I helped dig through the sand, finding more seashells for you to create with before leading you back closer to our picnic, seeing everything set up now for the second part of our date on the beach.- Are you happy so far with the shells we found? -Sure I was using it as a form of distraction when you started to look through the different ones in your pail, waiting for you to look up to see what I had instore for you next.-

Lola:

::Every time I thought I had collected enough, another sparkly color would catch my eye. And I had to have that one too. I had never done the Easter egg thing. But I imagined this was kind of what it felt like. The thrill of finding another.

Finally satisfied with my treasures, I stopped to shuffle them around in the bucket, ideas flitting through my head. Only to look up at your question. A nod already starting before something catches my attention from the corner of my eye. Turning not just my head, but my whole body now toward the scene before me with a gasp:: Is this ours?

Boston:

Si, I had a friend set it up while we went on our walk. Do you like it? -I wasn't holding back where you were concerned. Between the drive through Little Havana and now the beach, the excitement practically rolled off of you the same way the waves did against the shore.- It was just an idea, Skirt. In case, you wanted to paint something you saw out here today. -Grinning, I took the bucket from you and urged you forward, chuckling when you did a double take once again.- Go on, baby take a closer look. I'm right behind you.

Lola:

::Raises a brow at the mention of having a friend set it up. My curious cat side simmering just below the surface. But the promise of letting my creativity flow ultimately winning out. With one more look at you, I step forward, and place a kiss to your lips before rushing over to the easel on the left. Sitting down in front of it, and leaning to the side so that I can shuffle through the supplies set up on the middle, and pulling out several shades of blue::

Boston:

-I could have pulled up some sand and watched you paint for hours. Seeing you in your element like I was, my decision to do things right felt heavy as if Mama Stone was looking down from above. The array of colors I had purchased especially for our date was vast and as I continued to watch on, I set the seashells down beside you before looking out towards the ocean, finally looking back over to you.- It's beautiful but not as beautiful as you.

-The scenery, the shouts from kids up and down the shoreline was no match for the kites being flown in the wind. There were families still making their way onto the beach and the more I took in the sights around us, the more my grin widened on my lips. You had so many pictures to choose from to paint, I wondered how you would ever pick.-

Lola:

::After finally settling on the two shades of blue that I wanted, I fished out a white too before grabbing one of the trays and setting it down in front of me. Your compliment causing what was becoming a familiar heat on my cheeks to rise and I glance over at you with a small smile:: You spoil me with the sweet words. ::laughs softly before dropping my eyes back to the tray where I squirt the darker of the two blues, plucking up the brush and swirling it in the paint, then finally bringing the brush to the easel where I draw a line from the upper right corner all the way down to the bottom left corner. Pauses for just a second to steal another glance at you. My soul for some reason always comforted when I know you are close and alert. Then proceeds to color in the entire upper left section::

Boston:

-Sweet words that turn into sweet actions. That was my line of thinking and the motive behind that soft caress when I reached out to stroke that blush with the pad of my thumb.

It was all perfect. Just like you were and as I bent down to drop a kiss to your hair, I made sure not to look at your work in progress before heading over to the cooler. Knowing you would want it to be a surprise.- Quieres algo de beber, mi preciado tesoro?

-The basket where our food had been was moved when I made the spread and in our stroll along the beach, I had made sure everything had been set back up and close to where you were painting.-

Lola:

::I barely looked away from the easel when I nodded my head:: Mmhmm. Por favor? ::As soon as I finished coloring in that corner with the darker blue, I squirted some of the lighter blue on to the tray, filling my brush with that color now and brushing it over the darker blue about halfway down, being sure to blend the two where they met to make it seamless:: Sorprendeme.

Boston:

You got it, Skirt. -Chuckling, I watched you get lost into the painting you were creating for a second longer. The canvas still blocking my view somewhat when I finally give in and head for the cooler. Flipping the lid to find Memphis had packed it with different sodas and the Right or left? -We both knew I would share the beer if you wanted it instead but I was curious which one you would end up picking. Wanting to leave that decision to chance.- You did say to surprise you.

Lola:

::squirts some white paint into the lighter of the two blues on the tray and mixes it with my brush, the sound of bottles clanking causing me to flick my eyes over to you at the ice chest as I lift my brush, a hint of pink in one of the bottles making me smile at how well you guessed, and pulls my lip between my teeth as I bring the brush to the easel again. Painting even closer to the boundary I had created in the beginning, my focus becoming sharp until I notice that you’re standing behind the easel and pausing again with a shy smile as I wonder how long you had been waiting for me to look up:: Mm… ::glances between each arm, as I decide:: Derecha. ::kicks my chin up in the direction of your right arm::

Boston:

Did you peek, Skirt? -Looking over my right shoulder, I grin wide as I slowly bring that pink lemonade over the top of the easel and hand it to you. Top already twisted off and I give you a wink when I turn back, having only been teasing.- How is it coming along? -The longer we were there and you painted, the more my curiosity piqued and I brought the beer to my lips for a pull, grabbing up the stick again beside your chair.- Will you be okay here if I check out this area of shoreline? I'm going be right in front of you looking for more shells until you're done. -I wanted you to have the freedom to create without me on top of you, let your energy flow through the different hues of blue and white I had been lucky enough to see you pick.-

Lola:

::Truthfully, I knew there was pink something in your hand. But I wasn’t so sure I picked the correct hand. So when you pulled out the pink lemonade, my smile was triumphant as I reached out to take it, eyeing the progress as I took a sip of my drink:: Just a little more. ::looks back up at you with another smile before eyeing the shoreline. Briefly anxiety tried to creep up before I realized that Chile was far away and I forced myself to relax:: Si. I will be okay. ::goes up on my knees, crooking my finger at you:: Besos first though.

Boston:

Always first. -That went for more than the besos and as I dipped my head down, my grin was softer this time at how almost giddy you were one moment to almost frozen in place the next.- You're safe, baby. We're safe. -With that, I kissed you with everything I had, conveying that to you with not just my words but my actions too.- Just right here. -Taking my beer and the stick, I made the short walk to the shoreline, about twenty steps when I paused and set to work looking for shells. Making sure to stay in your line of view.-

Lola:

::You were the only one I had ever encountered that could relax me with just your words. And when you read me so easily, reassuring me that we were safe, the rest of the tension bled from my body and I offered you an even bigger smile:: Si. We’re safe. ::With a firm nod that I wasn’t sure was for your benefit or mine, I sat back down, watching you as you walked away before picking up my paintbrush again. I used the time that you were away to zone in on finishing the picture. First squirting some brown on the tray to color in the other corner. Then while the paint was still wet, I grabbed handfuls of sand and pressed them to the brown parts of the painting. Only when I was satisfied with the sand coverage did I pick up the brush yet again, this time painting with white by itself along the seam, lightly dabbing at some of the sand as well::

Boston:

-I probably watched you from afar for longer than I should have but I couldn't help myself. I had noticed right away when your demeanor changed and unlike that first night in Chile, when I started to make my way back to you, it registered that this time was different. You were finished with the painting but you were glowing in your newfound freedom. The distance between us was an ache that hadn't let up from the moment I had departed from your side but it had been necessary evil. If we were going to give it an honest go here in Miami then there were going to be times when I couldn't be with you. And this, had been a small test. Killing what was left of my beer, I stopped right before I got to you and waited for you to come out of your trance again. That smile beaming as I finally walked up.- You ready to show it off?

Lola:

::The final touch had been the seashells. There wasn’t glue. So instead I opted to use some extra white paint to stick them to the sand on the picture. Just as I was pressing the finally seashell to the easel, I registered your footsteps approaching and looked up at you with a bright smile. The way that the sun was hitting you, made you look even more handsome than you already were, and I had to stop myself from letting out an embarrassing laugh at how my luck had changed:: Mmhmm. ::nods as I beckon you over to my side of the easel:: Be kind. It’s not my normal style…

Boston:

-I knew exactly what I was looking at when I stepped up beside you, my silence brief as I took it all in.- You recreated today for our wall. It's beautiful, Skirt. -My grin widened with each passing second until it was ear to ear. From the shells you used to the colors, I was staring at a masterpiece in my opinion.- I mean that. -Sliding my hand into yours, I laced our fingers together and tugged you with me, not caring if I got paint on me or not.- I got a something for you over here I want you to see, come. I made some art of my own too. -Leading you over to the shore where I had been while you painted, I chuckled when you arched that curious brow the closer we got.- I need a expert opinion on if I'm any good or not. I ask the same of you, Skirt. Be kind, por favor.

Lola:

::This time I couldn’t help the laugh when you pulled me up to my feet. Lifting a curious brow, I looked over at you when you mentioned creating art of your own. I hadn’t noticed you painting anything when I stole glances at you. Then I started to notice something written in the sand:: Que? ::Moving a little closer, my heart rate picked up to a point that I was sure the entire beach could hear it at the words written in the sand. But suddenly I was second guessing my English and I flicked eyes full of question back to you again::

Boston:

-That grip on my hand tightened as my palms began to sweat and I chuckled once more, shaking off those nerves by bringing your hand to my lips and kissing the back of it. Giving your hand a reassuring squeeze in return after I had, I did the one thing I knew would give it completely away and that was to get down on one knee.- Delores Fuentes. Mi precioso tesoro.

I want you. I want your words. I want your dark and your light. I want your songs and your paintings. I want our late night conversation about everything and nothing at all. I want to it against him, Skirt. He's old and senile. -shrug some and nods, the feeling being natural that you would agree with me and I give you a wink.- We both know that had it not been for him taking off on one of his drunken adventures, I never would have met you. I never would have.. -the words were right there and while I wasn't as good as Memphis at the whole wooing thing, I knew you would get how the next few words would feel rolling off the tongue. Especially mine. If I was going to admit it, I was going to say it to you right now. In this moment.- .. fallen in love with you. You are destined for happiness and I want it to be me. Por Vida. So will you? Be my Delores Stone. -Sliding my free hand into the back pocket of my shorts, I pull out the little blue box, offering you my heart forever with a ring.-

Lola:

::My eyes widening when you go down on your knee. That move said the same thing in both languages, and as if on cue, my whole body began trembling. Of course, in true Lola form, I began to laugh nervously as my heart pounding seemed to drown out all the sounds around us and I had the brief thought that it would be my luck to die of a heart attack the moment a man proved all of the angry words Joaquin had yelled at me wrong. Clearing my throat, I forced myself to compose myself and focus again. Your words unlike anything I ever dreamed someone would say to me. In truth, I always wished I could have another shot. A do over. A marriage and a life that was better than the hand I had been dealt. But as quickly as those dreams came into my mind I would squash them down. The evil eye was always watching. And I didn’t want to give it any ammunition. Shaking my head now to try and force myself to clear my mind and focus again, I blink a couple times as I finally realize that there’s water leaking from my eyes. Tears. With a lick to my lips, the salt of my tears flavoring my mouth, I slowly nod:: If you truly mean it… ::nods some more as I first mouth the word, my voice failing me. Then trying again:: Si. Yes.

Boston:

Yes? -Your voice quivered and when you nodded again, I removed the ring and slid it on your finger. Not skipping a beat when I rise to my feet and I kiss away your tears, leaving your lips for last once I lifted you up in my arms.- I promise to never make you hurt like he did. -Lips lingering against yours, I had spoken low as if those very words were carved in stone. It would be the last time I ever brought him up and after tonight, a distant memory that would be long faded into nothing the second your name reflected that of mine.- You just made me that happiest man alive, baby. -Grinning wider, I kissed you again as you wrapped your legs around me and I carried you back over to our things, knowing once home that work of art would be the reminder of the day it became official. Your life was going to change for the better. And I was going to be the one to see to it.-

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