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moonah-rose · 3 years

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Eavesdrop

A quick alternate to Earshot, but set in canon S2 rather than NPL, where the demons focus on Michael for their taunting.

Second book in on the top shelf. That’s the one to pull to unlock the secret door hidden in the wall behind Michael’s desk. She’s supposedly the only other being, besides Janet, in this micro-universe privy to that bit of info. It leads to a hallway that extends to a secret chamber filled with a bunch of Earth collectables along with, recently added on her suggestion, a mini-arcade with classic game machines and a karaoke stand. The walls were sound proof, obviously.

She’s not here to escape a lecture from Chidi about messing up the laundry by hanging out in her demon pal’s very own ‘bud hole’ this time. Her ear is pressed to the closed panel after sealing herself in, waiting for the big Satanic tree to arrive.

To her surprise, and slight annoyance, he hadn’t arrived alone.

“You shouldn’t be getting drunk like this. What if the humans saw you? Everyone here is supposed to be abstinent of all vices!” Michael had grumbled, a ruckus of giggles behind him.

“That’s the point, dummy! It’s a ‘Purge’ night!” Vicky cackled; “Tell ‘im again, Gunner!”

“I got the idea off this human movie - one night, we’re allowed to do any shirt we wanted without consequence! We can drink, smoke, do drugs, stab and bite to our black hearts content!”

“NO! Definitely no stabbing! Or hurting any of them...Physically!” He’d struggled to make that last detail sound natural.

Good save, bud, Eleanor had thought.

Another demon, Petra, Eleanor thinks, had groaned; “Ugh, you are such a buzzkill lately. Can’t you see how awesome this idea is? Think about how wasted Eleanor is gonna let herself get! That dork, Jason, is gonna be high as a kite and it will make Chidi and Tahani wanna cower inside their homes! It’s genius!”

Eleanor had almost let herself be excited for the idea of trying to make the most of this supposed ‘torture’, similar to the one at Tahani’s party, which even Michael had said she hadn’t done too bad at acting and preparing the chaos sequence the next morning. She could hear the worry in Michael’s response though, being surrounded by three hundred demons, losing their inhibitions and wanting to let off steam in the most ‘passionate’ way possible, had the potential to go very wrong. For all of them.

As she listened, Michael’s attempts to reign in his rogue employees soon descended into outright pleading, which only gave him more scorn in return.

“Look just...remember what our goal is here. I get that you’re all frustrated but we’re doing so well and all I ask is that you don’t go too far on the humans, please.” He’d tried to ask, nicely. Wrong move.

The laughter nearly shook the building.

“Jeez! If you love these humans so much, why don’t you fork them?” Bambadjan teased.

“Nah, let’s face it, not even those cockroaches would wanna go near that disgusting skin suit with all it’s musty folds.” Vicky responded; “...Oh, what’s wrong, Mikey? It’s not like we’re insulting ‘you’ after all...Unless you’re starting to feel a little too cosy in that costume of yours.”

Eleanor’s stomach twisted on his behalf. She knew how much he loved that suit; he was so forking vain, after all. But then again, is it vanity if it’s not really his body? He just wishes it was.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Michael responded, quietly.

“Then prove it, dude! Take it off! Strip! Todd goes streaking every night.” Gunner encouraged.

“You know I can’t! It’s not the same for me.”

“Maybe I’ll take mine off tonight. Imagine how much Mendoza will freak out when he sees a giant acid snake coming for him after too many mushrooms!” Vicky joked; “It’s still ten times better than any torture method you’ve come up with for them, Mike. Maybe melting their brains by revealing your demon form will provide us some results.”

Is it really that bad? Eleanor was naively hoping there was some sexy bald goat-man underneath that suit. Dude was so shifty about it, like he didn’t wanna spoil the mystery. Was it more than that? Was he ashamed?

“You’ve all made your point, have your Purge and I’ll clean up the mess tomorrow. Just go easy on the humans - I insist.” Michael sounded so tired.

“Oh he ‘insists’!? Did you hear that guys? Mikey, who failed his own experiment over eight hundred times, wants to ‘insist’!” Vicky sneers.

“Well I insist that he shuts his fugly food hole and leave the masters to our job!” Petra cackled; “And he gets back to trying to fork his paperclips or whatever shirt you get up to here.”

That sounded painful, Eleanor couldn’t stop herself picturing it.

“Jeez, Mike, you always were a loser but there’s really no hope for you, is there. Before you were just the quiet nerd no one wanted to hang out with because of your weird fixation with Earth-people. Soon you’re gonna be known as the idiot who failed his first experiment; even if the rest of us do manage to salvage it for Shawn, we’ll all know the truth about how badly you suuucked!”

It took all of Eleanor’s strength not to shove the panel open, stomp over and grab Vicky’s hair to slam her face into the desk. They all just followed him in there to bully him?! They were the losers.

“C’mon, guys! We should have known he wouldn’t have wanted to join our party, it’s not like he’s used to being invited to any.” Bambadjan added, inciting more giggles.

“See you in the morning, dumb-ash. Be up bright and early to clean up our shirt, as you say, chop chop!”

Counting to ten to contain her rage luckily meets up with the sound of the door closing, the demons exiting the building.

She carefully opens the secret door, seeing Michael sat in his chair, hands folded on his lap, eyes cast down. When he hears her soft footsteps, his head turns, expression shifting to try to cover the wobbling lip she’d briefly caught sight of. He sniffs and rubs his upper lip with his hand.

“Eleanor!” Michael straightens up; “Were you there the whole time? What if they’d seen you or...sensed you were there?”

“Relax, man, they didn’t see shirt, it’s cool.” She puts her hand up; “...You okay?”

He looks to the side, forcing his ‘superior’ smirk, “Uhh, yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t I be? Just...having a bit of workplace banter, as they say.”

“Didn’t sound like ‘banter’ to me, dude.” She edges closer, slowly, knowing that if he’s as much like her as she knows, he’s gonna be like a wounded tiger right now.

Getting too close, too quick, is gonna get her eyes clawed out. She would know, she’s swung a few claws herself.

Michael sniffs, struggling to keep his mask on; “M’fine, Eleanor, really. You better go prepare for this Purge or whatever they were talking about, go enjoy yourself or...make sure the others are safe-.”

His words are cut off by her weight falling down onto his lap, arms looping around his neck as she embraces him. Fork it. Screw being slow and steady; the demon was about ready to cry.

“Wha....What are you doing?” Michael stutters, stiffening.

“Hugging you, idiot...Sorry, I mean that affectionately,” She says against his ear.

“W-why?”

She shrugs, still hugging him tight, shuffling on his knees; “’Cause you need it. ‘Cause it’s the quickest way to let you know that all those things those demons said was garbage. Fork, have they always talked to you like that?”

His silence answers her question.

She squeezes him again; “Damn, no wonder you’re as new to this whole friend thing as me.”

“Demons insult each other all the time, Eleanor, it’s how we compliment each other. We’re meant to enjoy it.”

That made zero sense.

“But you don’t....do you?”

Michael breaths in deep against her. Then she shakes her head, leaning into her shoulder.

“That’s ‘cause I’m a freak...I’m wrong, just like they say...like Shawn says...I’m just a failure of a demon.”

“That’s a good thing in my books, man.” Eleanor pulls back, looking at him, admiringly; “You might be failing as a demon but, I have it on good authority, you are rocking it as a newbie human. And I know you think we’re all gross and stupid but...I know you love us.”

He wrinkles his nose, trying to look as though he denied it, yet refusing to. His eyes gaze into hers, a rush of color brightening his cheeks.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to say it, I know you’re not quite ready there yet.” She knows herself how difficult it is to say those three words, to anyone; “But we’re your friends. We want you on our team, Michael, not just ‘cause it stops you torturing us but...Because you’re a cool guy to be around, when you’re not giving paperclip showers or putting us in purple space bubbles.”

A smile threatened to crack on Michael’s face as he squirmed beneath her. Was it really this easy to make an all-powerful being look so shy and bashful? It was adorable.

She moves her hand up to his cheek, thumb stroking below his eye, reddened with unshed tears.

“Also...I feel kinda obliged to confess something.” She says, “This skin-suit? Your skin-suit? What Vicky said was bull-shirt. All of it. Not only is this suit as much you as whatever demony essence you got going on underneath...But it’s also not bad looking either. I might even go as far to say ‘handsome’. In like a Richard Gere in Pretty Woman way.”

“R-really?” He looks hopeful for a second; “I mean...I know it’s gorgeous, but I wouldn’t expect...I mean I wouldn’t want you - or any human - to ever wanna-.”

She cuts his babbling off again with a kiss on the cheek.

He’s frozen now.

Eleanor grins; “That prove it for you? You know me, I don’t give out pity kisses.”

Michael squirmed again, biting his lip, mumbling something which might have been ‘gross’ or ‘weird food holes’, but he doesn’t move his hands away from where they’ve found the small of her back.

“Hey...how about we do one quick bit of karaoke before we go brief the others on tonight. You can pick the song.” She says, giving his bow-tie the smallest tug.

He smiles, touched, then nods; “Sounds good...”

“Cool. Also, don’t open that drawer on your desk until you’ve properly cheered up - I rigged it with a pie to get thrown in your face as revenge for cheating off my paper earlier!”

“Oh, pies are the best prank! I wish you hadn’t told me now, you’ve spoiled the surprise.”

Eleanor giggles as she takes his hand, leading him to his bud-hole; “You know me, demon buddy. I’m always full of surprises.”

His fingers squeezed hers; “That you are.”

#hellstrop minific #michael x eleanor #fluff #emotional hurt/comfort

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flamediel · 3 years

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yo dont know yashua you cant say he's racist how woulf you feel if someone judged you based on your religion and called you racist and sexist for it? its his right ot believe what he wants and you are being like a nazi attacking him

ok, look. I was just gonna delete this or respond to this w a meme and laugh it off (and the girlies on my snap KNOW this made me cackle) but we’re talking about a particularly insidious brand of racism and misogyny and I feel the need to elaborate. for those who didn’t see this is the post we are discussing.

Let’s start by discussing the tradwife movement. this post was tagged as tradwife, so you can’t tell me it’s not associated with the movement. the hashtag is at the top of the pic and tagged in the description, so it’s hard to miss. Yashua commented on a post with those hashtags being VERY visible saying he liked that, so he v obviously subscribes to those ideas.

What is the tradwife movement? it means “traditional wife” and it originated in alt-right spaces as a means of getting women to subscribe to right-wing ideals. This NYT Opinion piece by Annie Kelly, a Ph.D. student researching the impact of digital cultures on anti-feminism and the far right, describes this phenomenon in incredible depth. Here is a short explanation of where the movement started, pulled from Ms. Kelly’s article

“Some members of the alt-right have been weighing whether the absence of women from their movement is a problem. In 2016, the Swedish nationalist Marcus Follin, who calls himself The Golden One on YouTube, made a video titled “The Women Question.” In it, he urged his followers to dial down the open misogyny and consider new strategies to win over more women to the white nationalist cause. Mr. Follin was responding to statistics from the Austrian presidential election that year, in which female voters helped swing the election away from the candidate of the far-right Freedom Party. “You might not like that women have the right to vote, you might not like that anyone has the right to vote,” Mr. Follin conceded, “but it’s about winning a long-term political victory.

Enter the tradwives.

Over the past few years, dozens of YouTube and social media accounts have sprung up showcasing soft-spoken young white women who extol the virtues of staying at home, submitting to male leadership and bearing lots of children — being “traditional wives.”

If you read through that tiny snippet of the article, what are some keywords that stand out? for me, it’s “alt-right,” and “white nationalist.” The racism there is unmistakable, and while Yashua may not be white he has previously expressed some incredibly racist viewpoints, like how him kissing a Russian woman ended racism and his saying the n-word despite doing the most to separate himself from the black community when it’s even slightly inconvenient for him. If he’s following and participating in tradwife circles, then he’s also v much a part of white supremacist and anti-black movements (yes, POC can be parts of those movements, no it does not make it ok).

The article also makes it incredibly clear how misogynistic the tradwife movement is:

Female fears of objectification and sexual violence remain as potent as ever; the tradwife subculture exploits them by blaming modernity for such phenomena, and then offers chastity, marriage and motherhood as an escape. As one such YouTube commentator, a teenager, told her audience, traditionalism does “what feminism is supposed to do” in preventing women from being made into “sexual objects” and treated “like a whore.”

It’s a lie, of course. Modesty has never been a safeguard against degradation or rape, and we know that a rapist is no less likely to hurt a woman simply because he’s married to her. But it’s not difficult to see how it could be a seductive lie; the continuous headlines made by the #MeToo movement, paradoxically, were eagerly shared among tradwife networks, as supposed proof that sexual liberation had made life unacceptably dangerous for women.

if you read this and aren’t completely appalled by how this movement preys on women’s fears to push them into pursuing subservient roles in relationships with abusive men, then idk how to better explain it for you. White female victimhood has always been weaponized by right-wing movements to tempt them into joining their ranks, but for a man of color with a predominantly brown, Latin American fanbase to be advocating for this shit? He is exposing mostly young, impressionable women of color to a culture that wants them dead, and that will happily manipulate them in order to achieve their ends. he has a platform, and he’s using it to explicitly harm his fans. This has nothing to do with religion, it has to do with the explicit rhetoric of the movement that he showed support for. he isn’t racist and sexist for being Christian (although, Christianity in and of itself is heavily tied to racism and misogyny and, like most organized religions, its members need to evaluate these stances to make sure they don't perpetuate them) he is racist and sexist for supporting ang giving a platform to the tradwife movement.

Now that we’ve discussed the movement as a whole, let’s talk about the meme itself. Of course, the biggest umbrella is Jesus Christ, alluding to how Christian faith protects followers from the “rain” or any harmful things. that’s fine, that’s just Christianity. the problem is what comes next, the husband's umbrella labeled with “protecting” and “providing for the family.” UNDER that, and thus presumably less importantly, is the wife’s umbrella labeled with “managing the home” and “having children.” The meme very clearly positions the wife’s role as subservient to the husband’s. Look, it’s perfectly okay to want to be a housewife and devote yourself to kids, but this responsibility is not less than that of the breadwinner. Housework is literally a necessity in maintaining livable conditions, and the reality is in traditional family setups it’s considered menial. if a wife wants to stay home and take care of the kids that’s fine, and if you want to marry a woman that’s into that then that’s also fine, but that woman is not lesser than you. Her role is equal to yours, and just as necessary to sustaining your life as yours is to sustaining hers. Putting a woman’s role under yours, no matter your ideal family dynamic, is sexist. That is a very basic misogynistic ideal, and we cannot ignore that.

Now, onto your comment specifically.

“how woulf [sic] you feel if someone judged you based on your religion and called you racist and sexist for it”

I am not judging Yashua based on his religion. He is a Christian, and I don’t judge him based solely on that fact. I judge him based on specific problematic things he’s said to support his Christianity. Calling Buddha an “old fat man” is racist, regardless if you’re a Christian or not. Implying that women are subservient to men is sexist, regardless if you’re a Christian or not. These are not isolated incidents with him, and they point to deeper-rooted beliefs that are frankly concerning. It’s not about the fact he’s Christian, it’s about his specific beliefs.

I’m not going to pretend that there are no problematic sects and beliefs in Islam, but I am comfortable in the fact that I don’t support them, and in fact actively advocate against many of them. I’m literally going into Human Rights to help fight the racism and misogyny ingrained in my country’s religious laws. this is by no means comparable to Yashua, and if you’re implying that I’m racist or sexist on the very basis of my being Muslim you are not only wrong but also islamophobic as fuck.

“its [sic] his right ot [sic] believe what he wants”

Yes, it is. So long as those beliefs don’t actively harm other people, especially marginalized groups like these do. and guess what anon? if he has the right to believe what he wants, so do I. and I believe he’s a racist, misogynistic asshole who is in desperate need of self-reflection. The difference between mine and his beliefs is that mine don’t actually harm anyone and are well-founded. his are actively hurting his fans, and he needs to fix up because he is spreading incredibly fucked up beliefs.

“you are being like a nazi attacking him”

um. yeah, NO. it is not like nazism to call someone out for perpetuating alt-right ideas. if anything, calling out pro-nazi propaganda is uhh. probably one of the least nazi-like thing someone can do. also equating me calling out a problematic meme to a literal genocide is anti-Semitic and tone-deaf as fuck. Don’t pull that shit here.

well then, I think this is a good enough response. I am very passionate about these issues, and if someone else wants to discuss them I am happy to, but just an FYI, I expect you to be coming in with proper manners. the only reason I answered this ask is because it was an important conversation starter, but if anyone brings this energy into my ask box again it’s a straight block. I hope that’s clear, and that this was helpful. Let me know if you want me to adjust the tags on this post, I did my best but I know this can be a triggering topic, so if you need anything specific tagged just shoot me an ask or a dm. Stay safe!

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altcvnningham · 3 years

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1, 3, 5, 15, 18 and 20 😳😳😳😳

thank you for the ask!!! (also superior url omg 👁👄👁🤲🏻)

also my answers here are suuuuper long, because i’m a rambling idiot who’s way too involved in my OC’s. so uhhhh sorry in advance,,,,,

1. what radio station(s) do you listen to?

Vana’s a Samurai stan. She wishes she wasn’t. But, y’know, Morro Rock it is. Once upon a time when she was an even angrier teen, though, she’d listen to shit just like Ritual FM.

(My music taste is all over the place, and though blues is technically my fav bc i love old music, i never listen to it in 2077. So I switch between Body Heat, the Dirge, Vexelstrom for like 2 songs, and ofc, Morro Rock. But of all stations, there’s at least one song that i HATE so I can never stick to one for a whole ride sknsksjsjs)

i think i got the names right?? Idk yall i dont have it in front of me ndndndndhjs

3. how did you feel about Johnny that first night in the apartment, and how does it differ from what you feel now after everything?

so i’m gonna cut a read-more here because i decided to just lore dump Vana x Johnny here so uhhhhhh rip also //SPOILERS//

Vana is an extremely, seriously private, guarded person. Before Johnny, Panam, Kerry- Jackie was the only person she’d ever truly let near her, to get to know her. So obviously waking up to someone else living inside her fucking head was one of the worst things that’s ever happened to her. Her past is also something she’s not particularly proud of, so Johnny getting to witness all that is traumatising. Getting Johnny out of her head was priority number one, even if digging the chip out would kill her.

But after getting fucked over by the VBs, and both of them thinking she was gonna die, Johnny takes her to that abandoned hotel in Pacifica- it’s the first time he’s given her even a sliver of kindness, and the first time she’s ever openly expressed her fears to him, even if he could already sense them before. Oaths and promises are something she holds to incredibly high importance, so obviously when Johnny gives her his dog-tags, ‘proof of my promise’, she never, ever lets them go, never takes them off. (she still doesn’t. they keep her grounded. holding them to calm herself has become a reflex, for whatever reason.)

Everything just seemed to slowly change after that. For two people who hate vulnerability, it’s the only thing that helped them actually see each other. As the Relic continues to take over, they both understand each other more, feel each other more- and eventually it becomes hard to discern where Vana ends and Johnny begins. In cliché Johnny x V fashion like yeah duh it goes further,,,, cockwhore!Vana,,,,,, but with that they also start to become extremely possessive and jealous over one another- Johnny immediately on the defensive about whoever comes close to her, Vana selfishly hiding and keeping Johnny’s existence to herself, even if it slows the hunt for a remedy to the chip- to the point of seriously toxic co-dependency. It’s full of volatile ups-and-downs, fights and make-ups, and Vana almost comes to like the fact that she never has to explain nor hide what thoughts and feelings pass through her mind, no matter how dark or vulnerable. She prefers most things to remain unsaid, but values the fact that they both have a clear, transparent understanding of each other regardless.

But there's also... softer moments. When Johnny puts aside his ego for once, he learns to like the quiet that Vana does, brief as it can be sometimes. He'll sort of just... stay around the room, even if just to procrastinate retreating back into her head, because they realise they like each other's silent, wordless company. He'll wake her up from nightmares, hold her neck and kiss her back to sleep, or until the sun comes up, if she can't. It's all tender things they often pretend doesn't even happen, out of pride, I think, but they both know deep down that those are really the best parts.

Comes to a place where she suddenly hits a wall, and realises, I don’t want him to leave.

She’s never the same again after Mikoshi.

(But uhh anyway fuck V I’m horny on main for Keanu so i was here for the whole riiiiiide yeeeeeee)

5. how do your loved ones (LI, found family, etc) feel about you being a merc? or if you’ve given up the life now that everything’s finished, what was their reaction?

Vana grew up in a rich corp family, and after all the shit she’s endured just to appease her father, don’t think anyone could hate corps more than she does (some details of her past here!!) So when Arasaka kicks her out and Jackie finally convinces her to start merc work, it’s amazing how quickly she slips into the role, almost like she was made for it- an anonymous face within the city, free to roam and drift as she wants, relying on herself and herself only.

Vana works quickly and quietly enough (though not at all with clean hands), relying on stealth and netrunning, so she doesn’t cause too much of a noise that’d have her loved ones (rare as they are) all too concerned. Judy isn’t scared Vana’d be caught in gunfire, because when Vana works, her targets rarely know she’s even there. She’s smart, cunning. Panam appreciates that these skills have helped her out, so she can’t complain. River- who is unfortunately more fond of Vana than she is of him, given that she’s not too comfortable at accepting affection- isn’t too happy about the life she leads, but hey, it’s her skills as a merc and as one of NC’s most adept netrunners that he even stood a chance of finding Randy as quick as he did, so he feels indebted to her for that. Kerry thinks it’s fuckin awesome that she gets to do as she wants and provides for herself, bestieeees

Given she isn’t all that close with many people- keeping her distance and all- the only people who seriously worry about her are folks like Vik, Misty, and Mama Welles, especially the latter two, who knew how much Jackie meant to her, and how easily she cracks under the weight of grief. The only thing, really, that concerns everybody around her, is how insatiable her bloodlust becomes, and how much she'd throw away just to try and quell it.

Johnny’s just in it for the ride. Rather she work for herself than a filthy corp, anyway.

After Mikoshi, losing Johnny, making it to the major leagues, she fuckin... just doesn't care anymore. She hates the big glass house that was practically forced onto her (reminds her too much of her stifling corp childhood), she hates that she has 20 cars that clog up her garage and not just her trusty red Yaiba Kusanagi, hates that folks keep giving her all this shiny golden shit that she doesn't want, like any of it's worth a damn. Since then she's hardly in one place- never at home if she can help it, and either wanders aimlessly around the streets and crashes over at Kerry's to sleep through grief. It isn't the merc life she wants to leave, but major leagues turned out to be a glittering pile of dogshit she wants no part in. She only really stays there because Jackie would've wanted it.

(i’m a lazy bitch like i don’t wanna be a merc. i wanna be one of those cute npc’s with the glowy earrings and bunny backpacks and skimpy plastic skirts, who picks up noodles on the way home to go watch watson whore. in my ideal life i am NOT the main character snnsmsnsks)

15. which NPC is your bff?

Kerry. Kerry is Vana’s ride or die. No fucking questions asked. Kerry’s the only person (besides Johnny, i guess) as close to her as Jackie was. He’s really the only person that ever gets her to smile, like really, stupidly, goofily smile, and despite being almost complete opposites, they just understand each other so well. Whenever they need something, they're the first person they'll call. Happens so often that just as Vana sifts through her contacts to find his, Kerry's already calling for her first. They're practically joint at the hip.

They both live loud, fast lives, but also know how to make time for silence and introspection, something they both need to stay grounded. Vana doesn't buy into his zen-wellness-yoga crap, but sure, she tries copying a couple moves while he's doing it on a lazy afternoon, before scoffing how this is fuckin' dumb and retreats back to the couch. Also, as much as she hates being reminded of the wealth that came with her corpo upbringing, she loves using up all his expensive products, and tends to klep a bottle of his shampoo when she runs out. Cute how she thinks he doesn't notice.

After what happened in Mikoshi, she practically lives at Kerry's place, just dozing away miserably as he lounges by the pool, or curl up on the couch to mindlessly watch his old Samurai tapes (he doesn't like it much, but if it helps her through whatever shit she's going through, he's not gonna take that away from her). On better days, when she actually pulls herself out of bed, he teaches her to play guitar, slipping in a couple tricks Johnny taught him. Funnily enough, the whole thing helps him find some closure too.

( me,, I need a girl like Panam in my life to endorse all of my stupid ideas )

18. what’s your dream cyberware (either something that was shown in lore that wasn’t available in game or mental creation of your own)?

I don’t have access to the tabletop lore stuff rn so i’m gonna pull this out my ass jsjsns

Anything that helps Vana become more deadly at stealth and netrunning. The most eddies she’s ever blown are on increasingly powerful cyberdecks, cooling systems, netrunning gear she can comfortably slip on under a jacket and boots- she likes convenience and functionality, but she needs it to be comfortable, too. She’d fucking kill for anything that lets her scale silently up walls and across ceilings, though- like a spider- and anything that lets her get her hands reeeeal bloody, but quietly. Guess that’s just called a knife, though.

(Me?? Fuck uhhh man i just want synth-skin that looks normal but also shimmers all pink n cute. Literally wanna be an edward cullen sparkly lookin mf. Also, i’m sorry but scanning shit w Kiroshi’s are so dope that’s literally all i want?? Idk i’m boring and mantis blades freak me out uhh)

20. is there anyone you’re crushing on that’s unavailable? (yes this is the “what romance option(s) are you foaming at the mouth for” question)

Answered here :)

(And i’ll say it again, PLACIIIIIIIDE,)

#ask #vana #vana lore #i am #SO SORRY #that this is so long #u ask me ab my OCs it's bound to happen #thank u v much for the ask!!#i had a ton of fun!#:D

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mysterykidscasefiles · 5 years

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Mystery Kids and the Case of the Whispering Rock

Summary: Norman, Neil, Coraline, Wybie, Raz and Lili arrive at Grunkle Stan’s Summer Camp with the hope of having a summer of fun, or in the case of the two Psychonauts, with the intent of investigating a psychic disturbance. When they meet two twins that seem to be experts on the secrets of Gravity Falls, they find themselves reluctantly teaming up. But how much can they actually trust each other? There are secrets in this town, but more surprising are the secrets being kept from each other.

Table of Contents

Chapter 21: The Cabin

"Should we knock first?" Mabel asked. "Do you think anyone lives here?"

Lili rolled her eyes. She could sense there was no one in the house. The others were being cautious because some of them thought magic had brought her here, but Lili knew it hadn’t been anything close to magic. Not just because magic wasn’t real, which it wasn’t, but also because she knew exactly what had called her here.

She felt her gaze being pulled back to the ancient tree.

Plants often spoke to her, not in words, but in feelings, and colors, and other senses that she couldn’t quite put into words. The ancient tree had reached out to her, pulling her towards it with an overwhelming feeling of warmth that Lili couldn’t ignore.

She felt safe, protected, and she knew that she didn’t need to fight against the tree’s magnetic poll. She probably should have told Raz what was going on, but she had been so overwhelmed in the moment that she didn’t want to focus on anything else except for getting to the tree. Maybe she had been in some sort of half- trance brought on by the tree’s sheer overwhelming life-force, but it hadn’t been malicious or against her will. However, she did regret talking so candidly in front of the other kids.

Coraline approached the cabin and examined the front door before peeking in through the window. “It doesn’t look like anyone has lived here in a long time.”

“Hey, look at these!” Mabel said as she pointed to the two symbols etched into the wood of the upper part of the door frame. “These are pretty! Hey, Dip, do you know what they mean?”

Dipper frowned and stepped closer to get a better look. One symbol looked like two triangles pointing inward at each other, and the other symbol looked vaguely like a chicken's foot with the toes pointing up in the air. “No, I’ve never seen them before.”

“Maybe this place really is cursed and they are some sort of warning?” Neil suggested.

“Or some kind of evil spell,” Coraline added darkly.

Mabel shook her head. “No, they aren’t either of those things.”

Dipper raised an eyebrow at her. “How do you know? You haven’t seen them before, have you?”

“Nope,” Mabel said with a shrug. "I just know they just aren’t those things.”

“Well that’s... vague,” Coraline said dryly.

"We aren't going to figure anything out standing out here," Raz said as he stepped forward toward the door. "I'll go first."

Raz turned the door handle and the wooden door creaked open. The door opened to a spacious living room. Light flooded in from the windows, illuminating a layer of dirt and dust on the floor and on top of the furniture. To the left, there was a kitchen where a large cobweb hung in the window. In front of them was a living room with an old couch in front of a fireplace. There were stairs to the right leading up to the second floor, and at the other end of the house there were three doors. One of the doors seemed to lead to a smaller room, which was probably a bathroom.

Raz stepped into the cabin and the floorboards creaked underneath him.

“It’s even creepier on the inside,” Coraline commented and her excitement was audible in her tone.

There were more sounds of creaking floorboards as the rest of the kids slowly shuffled into the cabin.

“I wonder what kind of people would live in a place like this?” Wybie mused.

Raz discreetly placed a hand on the wooden railing of the staircase and closed his eyes for a brief second. No one but Lili seemed to notice the gesture.

“No ones been here in awhile,” Raz said after he removed his hand. “Probably around twenty-five years or so.”

“That’s a... very specific number. Why do you think that?” Wybie asked.

Raz shrugged. “Just a guess… you know, judging from the amount of dust around here.”

“Okay Sherlock, that’s great, but who lived here?” Coraline asked. “And what brought Lili here?”

“Do you think the place is haunted?” Neil asked suddenly and Lili saw the other kids tense and look around expectantly. Lili really couldn’t blame them. Luis had been okay once he calmed down, but he had still been dangerous.

“No… I don’t think so,” Norman spoke up. His voice sounded even more hesitant than usual.

“Why not?” Coraline asked. “We already met one ghost. Maybe Lili was possessed like you were and that’s why she brought us here.”

“I wasn’t possessed!” Lili snapped.

“Because there are no cold spots,” Dipper said, causing everyone to look at him. “That’s why you don’t think the place is haunted, right?” He looked to Norman for confirmation. “This place is just as creepy as the mansion, but the temperature is pretty much what you would expect. Ghosts create cold spots and since there are no cold spots, no ghosts.’’’

Norman nodded slowly. “Yeah… exactly.”

“Okay, so if it’s not a ghost, then what brought Lili here?” Neil asked.

“There are some rooms in the back,” Mabel suggested. “Maybe we’ll find something that will tell us more about this place?”

Coraline nodded and took the lead this time, guiding them through the living room to the door on the left. She placed her hand on the handle and Lili could feel her own heartbeat increase with anticipation. She had to admit, she was just as curious as the rest of the kids to learn more about this strange cabin nestled in the most incredible tree she had ever seen. This may or may not be the psychic disturbance they were sent to find, but even if it wasn’t, Lili had to learn more about this place.

Coraline pulled open the door and Lili frowned in disappointment. Empty boxes filled the room along with old brooms, empty jars, and lots of canned food.

“This is a little… anticlimactic.” Coraline said. “ I think we just found the storage room. And it looks like whoever lived here took most of their stuff with them.”

“Let’s try the next room,” Raz suggested.

Raz walked over to the second door and turned the handle. This room was definitely different, but somehow, just as unexpected. There was a cauldron in the middle of the room, tables covered with different colored stones and crystals, and shelves supporting a mix of jars and old books. Some of the jars still had the remains of strange dried-out plants.

“It looks like whoever lived here left some of their books behind,” Dipper said as he stepped into the room and pulled a few down from the shelf. “Listen to these titles: The Encyclopedia of Magic Herbs, The Complete Book of Dowsing and Divining, The Secrets of Alchemy… and this last one.” He wiped the dust off the cover. “Wards, Runes and Protection Magic.”

He flipped through the pages curiously.

“These look like those symbols outside,” he said excitedly.

“Really?” Mabel asked, as she rushed to her brother’s side and began pulling the book from his hands despite her brother’s protests. “These symbols are so pretty,” she said giddily as she gazed down at the pictures. “I can put them in my art!”

“No, bad idea, Mabel!” Dipper chastised as he pulled the book back. “I think these symbols are supposed to do things. You shouldn’t mess with them until you know more about them.”

“But they say what they mean right there!” Mabel said, pointing to the description next to the pictures. “And it looks like most of these do good things.”

“But you still don’t know how they work,” Dipper argued. “Or if it has to be drawn a certain way. One mistake and you might curse yourself.”

“You guys are taking that book way too seriously,” Lili said with a frown. “They’re just pictures.”

“How can you say that? We’re literally standing in a witch's house… or it used to be,” Coraline said. “There are real spell books and a cauldron. Some spell even called you here, and you still don’t think magic might be real?”

“We actually haven’t seen any proof of magic yet,” Wybie cut in. “We don’t really know why Lili came here.”

Coraline gave him an exasperated look. “Seriously, Why-born?”

“Sorry Jonesy, I can’t believe in magic until I see proof and I can actually study it.”

“Uhh, hey guys,” Neil said. “I think the witch, or whoever lived here, left a note.”

Everyone stopped to look over at Neil who was holding up a faded piece of paper.

Coraline took the note and began reading out loud.

“Greetings Weary Traveler,

If you have found your way here, then that means the ancient one has looked into your heart and found you worthy, or perhaps you were in danger and the ancient one reached out to save you, or maybe you stumbled upon this place by your own luck…

Even after living here for decades, the magic of this clearing is still a mystery. Just know, as long as you reside here, no evil may harm you. This clearing belongs the ancient one and the good flowers and fae that protect this place.

Agnes and I stumbled across this place when we were at our most lost and we had no place to return to. We were young then, and we built this cabin among the branches where we knew we would be safe from all harm and away from the prying eyes of the small-minded townsfolk. We could not have built this place without help, however. The Corduroys may be simple, but they were kind, and unlike the other people in the town, they did not judge us for our different ways. We are lucky to count them among our friends, for there are no finer craftsmen around.

Of course, after the cabin was built, Agnes and I made our own alterations...

Now we are older and Agnes’s health requires more than I can provide. We are forced to move to the city and leave behind our beautiful home that has kept us safe for so many years. Our only wish is that whoever finds our home will care for it as deeply as we did. So please, rest here, weary traveler. Rest here and fear no evil, for even though this is a forest of monsters, you are safe under the ancient one’s protective branches.

Blessed Be,

Eleanor”

The room was silent as Coraline finished reading the letter.

Finally Coraline spoke again, her voice smug. “So... who still doesn’t think witches lived here?”

“They talked about an ancient one,” Dipper said slowly. “It sounds like they are referring to the tree. The tree must have protected them from the rest of the forest.”

“How can a tree protect someone?” Neil asked.

“I’m not really sure,” Dipper admitted. “But it sounds like they were able to live out here safely for a long time.”

“I hope they are still okay,” Mabel said. “And that Agnes is feeling better.”

“Yeah, they seemed like good people,” Neil agreed.

After the kids finished searching the room for more information about Agnes and Eleanor with little luck, the group decided to move onto the second story of the cabin. The second floor was comprised of a large bedroom with one bed in the middle of the room, a study full of volumes of books, and a bathroom. Compared to what they were expecting, this part of the cabin was relatively normal.

After the second story didn’t reveal any more interesting information, the kids headed back down stairs to search for anything else they might have missed. Neil and Norman checked the kitchen, where they found more cans of food and strange preserved plants in jars. Coraline, Mabel and Dipper were looking through the room they found the note in, and Lili and Raz were searching the room that was used as storage for anything that the previous owners might have been left behind.

“Guys! Check this out!” Wybie’s frantic shout could be heard throughout the cabin.

Lili and Raz were out the door in seconds. They found Wybie standing just outside the half-bath downstairs, which comprised of just a toilet and a sink. It only took another second before the rest of the kids arrived.

“What’s wrong?” Coraline asked, rushing out of the room she had still been investigating. Her eyes were wide and frantic as she scanned Wybie and then glanced around for anything unusual. “Are you okay?”

“No! You have to see this!” He turned back to the half bath, bent over to reach the toilet handle, and flushed the toilet. He watched in fascination as the water swirled down the toilet.

“Uhh, what are we looking at here?” Raz asked.

“The toilet!” Wybie explained. “It flushes!”

“Uh huh…” Dipper agreed. “Most toilets do that.”

Wybie shook his head in frustration. “No, think about it!”

There was a pause and then Dipper took a sharp intake of breath. “Oh.”

“Yeah!” Wybie shouted. “Where is the water coming from? Is there a pipe system? And if there is, then why didn’t we see them from the outside?”

“Maybe the pipes are built into the tree?” Norman guessed.

“But then look at this!” Wybie said as he reached over and flicked on the bathroom light. The ceiling lights turned on, illuminating the entire room. “How does this place still have power?” He asked. “How is any of this stuff still working, and how did it even work in the first place?”

“Maybe they have some sort of generator?” Raz suggested.

“That still works after all this time?” Dipper asked doubtfully.

Wybie silently pulled out a screwdriver from one of his overly large pockets and began unscrewing the light switch cover. Under the cover, was the metal light switch, which he unscrewed from the wall. As he took out the light switch, Lili expected to see wires, but there was nothing. The light switch wasn’t attached to the wiring at all.

Wybie stared dumbfounded at the switch in his palm, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. That was when Coraline reached over and flicked the switch.

The lights in the bathroom went off.

The kids stood together just outside the doorway in the darkened bathroom trying to process what they had seen.

Lili’s mind was racing as she tried to search for a logical explanation. Maybe the cabin was technologically advanced and only made to look rustic. Maybe-

“It’s magic,” Mabel said casually and a shrug of her shoulders, like she was just describing the weather.

Wybie looked over at her. “What?”

“Well, witches lived here,” Mabel explained. “It makes sense that they would use magic to power their cabin. In the letter, Eleanor did say they made some alterations when the cabin was made.”

“But-But- it can’t be magic,” Wybie insisted.

“But Wybie, isn’t this great?” Mabel asked. “You said you wouldn’t believe in magic until you saw it for yourself and you were able to study it. Now you can!”

Wybie looked back at the toilet, his face a mixture of bewilderment and curiosity.

“It’s probably some type of spell,” Dipper agreed. “But I don’t understand why it would still be working when the witches are gone. Why would the spell work over twenty years later?”

“Maybe they were really powerful witches?” Neil suggested.

“Maybe,” Dipper agreed. “But I think it’s more likely that the spell on this cabin is coming from some sort of magical power source.”

“You sure know a lot about magic, Pines.” Coraline pointed out. “Why is that?”

Dipper looked taken aback. “I don’t really. I’m just guessing.”

“And how do we know that’s not a lie?” Coraline folded her arms. “You already admitted to lying to us about there not being monsters in this forest.” Coraline gestured to Mabel. “I have a feeling that the two of you know a lot more than you’re letting on.”

Lili snorted and Coraline sent a glare in her direction.

“Something funny?” Coraline asked.

Lili rolled her eyes. “Nothing, it’s just… You’re one to talk about keeping secrets.”

“I told you that’s none of your business,” Coraline snapped. “And I have a feeling that what I’m holding back is nothing compared to what you’re not telling us.”

Lili faltered. “What?”

“Yeah, let’s talk about you, Lili,” Coraline continued. “You’re the one that got put under that weird spell and brought here. And when we got here, you were certain that this was a good place and that we would be safe here. Strangely enough, the witch’s letter told us the same thing. But how did you know that?”

Lili scowled. “It was just a gut feeling. I don’t know what you’re trying to prove-”

“Ever since I met you, I knew that there was something off about you,” Coraline continued. “Something different that I couldn’t quite put by finger on. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were a witch.”

Lili could feel her heart pounding in her chest. “I’m not a witch. I don’t even believe in magic.”

Coraline shrugged. “Maybe you’re right, or maybe there is a reason why you are so insistent that magic doesn’t exist. Either way, I have a feeling you’re hiding something. Same with the twins over there. They seem way too comfortable with this magic and monsters stuff. There is definitely more to the story than they’re willing to tell us.”

“Oh, so now I’m a witch too?” Dipper scoffed. “Just because Mabel and I have discovered some weird things about this forest and I happen to make a few good guesses about magic based on lore from Dungeons Dungeons and more Dungeons?”

“Let’s not start calling each other witches, please,” Norman requested desperately. “Nothing good comes from that.”

Coraline threw up her hands. “Hey, I'm not saying it’s a bad thing. Doing magic sounds pretty cool. I would love to be a witch.”

“Witch isn’t quite the word I would use to describe you,” Lili said in a low, spiteful voice.

Coraline scowled. “What was that?”

“Okay! I think we all need to take a break from each other,” Raz said suddenly as he placed his arm around his girlfriend's shoulder. “Lili, can I talk to you outside for a moment?”

Lili allowed Raz to lead her outside the cabin, knowing that if she continued to stay in the same room as Coraline, the wooden cabin might go up in smoke.

Lili shrugged Raz’s arm off her shoulder as soon as she was outside.

Ugh, how dare she- Who does she think she is! Lili vented loudly in her mind to no one in particular, but she knew Raz would hear her.

Are you okay? Raz asked in concern. You seem-

Pissed? Of course I’m pissed! She accused me of being a witch!

Yeah, it’s weird, Raz said as he rubbed the back of his neck. Because in a way she was kind of right.

Lili whirled around to face him. What?

Raz winced. What I mean is, she guessed that you were hiding some sort of power. It was your herbaphony power that brought you here, right?

Lili looked over to the trunk of the tree and she could instantly feel her anger start to dissipate as she thought of the warm, safe feeling the tree gave her. Yeah… this tree… it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before from a plant. I can’t really explain it, but it sort of called me here. Lili shook her head. I shouldn’t have talked so openly in front of the other kids. I know better than that.

It’s okay. Coraline is getting suspicious, but luckily I don’t think our covers are blown. Raz assured her. I don’t even think she was really serious about that witch remark. I think she was just trying to make sense of everything.

I told you this would happen, Lili snapped. Normals can’t handle with someone is different from them. They can tell when someone’s not like them, and it freaks them out.

Lili walked off the porch and stepped down onto the huge branch that was holding up the cabin. She made her way over to the trunk of the tree and placed her hand on the bark. Immediately, she could feel the tree’s calming life force flowing into her body.

“Are you okay?” Raz asked for the second time.

Lili let out a breath. “I’m okay. I just need to be alone for a few minutes.” She removed her hand and sat cross legged on the large branch.

“Okay,” Raz said, but he didn’t move. “Do you want to be alone by yourself, or do you want company?”

The corners of Lili’s mouth twitched upwards at the question. She loved that he knew to ask that. Raz understood that she needed time to herself, but he also understood that there were times when being alone also meant being alone with him, even if they just sat together and didn't talk. Best of all, when she did ask to be completely alone, he was never hurt or made her feel bad for needing her own space.

“Sit down, Raz.”

He complied with a small smile, crossing his legs and sitting next to her.

I saw you used Clairvoyance on the cabin, Lili said mentally. She suddenly felt desperate to change the subject to anything but Coraline and the other kids. What did you see?

Not much, Raz admitted. I still sensed the old owners, but it was faint. I think they are both alive but living far away. I don’t think they’re coming back any time soon.��

They must have had a strong connection with this place if you can still sense them.

Do you think they’re witches? Raz asked suddenly. I know you said you didn’t believe in magic stuff.

No? Maybe? I don’t know, Lili admitted in frustration. I didn’t think I do, but there are things about the cabin that I can’t explain.

Let’s hope the cabin with the magical flushing toilets isn’t the psychic disturbance we are looking for, Raz said. Because we would get laughed out of the Psychonauts.

Lili shook her head. I don’t think it is. This place is weird, but there is nothing here that matches the level of psychic disturbance we are looking for. I still feel like our best bet is whatever Coraline is hiding with that Other Mother creature. She felt her anger start to rise again at the thought of Coraline. Did you read her mind last night?

There was a long pause, long enough for Lili to look over at him in concern.

Yeah I did, Raz said, but his eyes were far away.

What did you see? What’s she hiding?

Raz shook his head. I’m not surprised she doesn’t want to talk about it. I’m not even sure how to explain it to you. It might be better if I just show you... But Lili. He locked eyes with her and her gut twisted at the look he gave her. It’s bad.

I hope you liked this chapter! Sorry it's been so long, but I feel like now I'm settled in with a new job, finishing Act 1 wont take too long.

I might have to give this chapter one more edit some time soon, but I wanted to post it now because otherwise it might be another 24-48 hours before I would be able to get this out.

I hope you like it and I'm sorry it took so long!

If you would like to support me, here is a link to my Ko-fi

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#Mystery Kids #gravity falls #Coraline #psychonauts #Paranorman #Mystery Kids Case Files

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badass-queen-of-puns · 6 years

Text

Midnight Snack Part 3/Last Part (Kallura One Shot)

Summary: Allura and Keith have floured themselves in a predicament and only the way for them to solve it is with something expected that happens to be revealed.

Word Count: 5846 (I’m so sorry for this long ass final part that keeps getting longer each time I post, but it had to be done and it’ll be worth it in the end. I promise lol)

Warnings: Lots of FEELS (and i do mean in all CAPS), tons of laughter in between and hopefully a few deaths at the end haha just kidding! Maybe on the inside. XD Though really, you might wanna prepare yourself.

Please read Part 1 & Part 2 First if you haven’t. Starts with Keith’s then Allura’s POV.

If anything were to be said at that exact moment, now was the time. Yet as they both stood there, frozen is stature, ridiculous expressions covering their flour-pasted faces not a single word was intended to be said. Just silence. The type of silence they would want to take their bayard out and slice it so hard that a sound would be produced right out in front of them. If only they could.

Even as they both showed lack of movement in this sudden predicament, Keith’s expression became plain as day. Not angry. Not confused. Heck, he didn’t even care about the amount of flour that was plastered on his face. The only thing that caught his eye at that instant was the expression Allura wore in front of him right after she sneezed in his face. Utter humiliation. That was enough for him to ignore the reasoning behind his intended arrival with an unexpected fit of laughter coming right out of him.

Come on, Allura. Say something. He’s laughing right at you! Laughing? She thought to herself. You just sneezed in his face! Why would he be laughing? Yes, apology! I need to apologize!

“Keith! What are you doing here? It’s not like you to come to the kitchen that often. I would have assumed you would be in your room or in the training deck--” She felt herself babbling unnecessarily, moving her hands in whichever way she could that seemed like she was clear on the situation. But her words alone wasn’t enough to stop the laughter that was coming out of Keith’s mouth. She began to pout, wondering if he was even listening.

Though for Keith he couldn’t help himself, he didn’t even realize he was laughing until he placed both his arms around his stomach as if the laughter was too much for his body to let out. Like it was a replacement for the hunger he once felt just moments before. On the other hand, Allura’s expression began to display complete hopelessness. This wasn’t how this was suppose to go. She thought, sighing as a warm smile surfaced on her lips, unnoticed. Though it nice to see him laughing for once.

Just as the faint sound of her breath escaped her lips, Keith responds back.

“I’m sorry, Allura.” His voice bringing out a hint of laughter as if trying to hold it in. “I just wasn’t expecting to see you looking like that.” Pointing at her as he said, revealing the reason for his uncharacteristically amused behavior.

Looking like what? She thought to herself as she gave Keith a clueless expression on her face. Seeing that he was pointing straight at her, she looks down seeing her hands covered in flour that she had to touch her face feeling the powdery substance at her fingertips. She knew then that she must of looked like a total mess. A mess that she wasn’t sure how she was going to get out of.

Yet as she began recollecting on the flour incident that made her this way, she began to giggle. Ever-so loudly.

Now laughter was emanating from the both of them. Pure, defenseless laughter.

As Allura heard the sound of his voice become more overthrown with amusement than before, it became the same effect for Keith as he suddenly heard hers. You would think that someone would of heard the two as they appeared laughing their stomachs out, but in all truth what happened to be is that the doorway closed shut not too long before the laughter began, sound proofing their voices and insistent laughter.

Got to thank a couple of little mice for that.

“You are just the same, you know.” Allura states the fact, seeing as to that Keith was covered with the same white powdery substance as her, but for some reason he looked better in it than she was. At least, that’s what her eyes were telling her.

“No thanks to you.” He voices, admittingly. He was never afraid to just spit out the truth when needed, but when it came to his own worries or thoughts that was something he knew he would have trouble doing. Especially if the reason for his worriment was standing, giggling right in front of him. He wondered for a moment as he looked at her, eyebrow raised. Why was she here? Why was she awake at this hour? Questions rolled through his mind as she spoke back at him, her amusing smile providing a sense of relief as if the things that he had been worrying about the past few days were nothing but worries. Yeah, just worries.

“My apologies.” Giggles still flowing right out of her, but slowly dying out as she brushes the flour off herself that was on her dress.

“I suppose we both are a mess.” Keith’s eyes gravitated towards Allura’s, allowing a smile take place on his lips that he didn’t think he would have been able to show.

“Mess indeed.” Allura replies, returning the gesture right back. Wide as can be.

Looking back at each other, their eyes unwavering as always with a truth hidden beneath them both. They didn’t need words to know what their eyes were telling them. But how they were to know that they were thinking of each other? Even though, his mind has been filled with worrying about her. Even though, she was thinking about him more than she should. They both placed each other at a distance, close in sight yet far from their feelings could admit in the midst of what they were unwilling to act upon.

Though as the laughter faded amongst themselves, they both knew they should say something to ease into the conversation that opened up for them. Taking the initiative, Keith decides to speak first, already contemplating on what the princess-in-white was up to at this hour.

“Were you…? Cooking something?” He nodded towards the mess that was scattered across the kitchen counter. He tried to piece together the scene that was beside her without revealing too much of his own curiosity underneath that mullet hair of his.

“Umm...Yes. Though I am not sure of the particulars of this certain recipe I am suppose to be making.” Allura replies as she glances at the disaster that was her attempt at baking a delicious treat in the middle of the night.

“What is it that you’re trying to make exactly?” Keith asks, picking up a poorly made piece of dough that one could tell had eggshells sticking out of it still.

She shrugged, unenthusiastically, embarrassed to even say it. “Cinnamon rolls.”

Cinnamon rolls? Keith thought to himself, wondering how she manage to think of something like that to make in the first place.

“I see.” That's all he manages to say as he moves his head around the whole room, looking at it as if he was inspecting her area for anything out of the ordinary besides the fact that the place was already looking opposite of its former appearance. “Any reason you decided to do this?”

Evading the embarrassment of telling the actual truth that his mom was the one who advised her to make such a dish, she quickly says “Uhh..I heard you talking about them one time with Shiro. I thought I might try making them somehow. You’d be surprised what the castle actually has hidden underneath all those cupboards. Especially now that Pidge and Hunk had added some interior modifications to the kitchen’s equipment to suit the right cooking capabilities.”

As she continued on, Keith pondered on the memory, trying to recall that particular subject. Did I?

“I’m not all too familiar with your Earth delicacies as you are to the ship’s providing food sustenance. But it’s always nice to try something out of my element. As my father always told me, ‘You can never dismiss yourself of the opportunity to go out of your mind’s limit of learning.’” Allura continued as she tried situating herself in picking some of the ingredients she was using beforehand, hoping some were still in good use.

Keith listened to her as she spoke, admiring her words of the past about her dad. Someone she lost. She was someone who held the lingering feeling of remembering who he was. Something he often did himself when remembering his own. Someone he wished he didn’t have to lose so soon in his life. As he saw Allura gather herself together in collecting some of the equipment that was still scattered in front of them, he felt himself wanting to say more, but he didn’t know what to say. Yet as his eyes followed the way Allura was gradually getting herself back to making the supposedly complicated dessert, he knew there was one thing he could do and it wasn’t just standing back watching her. If only that was an option. He spoke.

“Well if it’s cinnamon rolls you are making. You’re doing it all wrong.” Swiftly transforming his bayard back to its original form and putting it behind him as he said it.

“What?” Allura turned to him, surprised at his words of sudden interest.

“What you are doing right now with that egg is wrong. You don’t crack them with a spatula like you’re swatting a fly.” He says, pointing to the spatula that was in one of her hands now. The other one holding a uncracked egg that was right below it laid about on the counter.

“Don’t tell me, you know how to make these things?” Allura asks, a bit baffled at the idea of him knowing how to make something that she had been struggling with this whole time. Or in other words, pointing out her mistakes that she was afraid to admit.

He didn’t answer. Before he knew it, his legs were moving towards her direction. Approaching her closely enough that she could not help but blush a bit underneath. Was he doing just staring? Is he gonna say how bad I am at this? I know I am, but I don’t want to just admit defeat here. Even if I look like a disaster. She thought to herself, closing her eyes. Though as Keith’s face began to look serious, he swiftly looked away as she heard a crack of an egg being heard right in front of her. Opening her eyes, she noticed an emptiness in one of hands as she glanced to see that the egg she was holding earlier wasn’t there anymore.

“Hand me the apron.” Keith says, not looking at her, arm reached out in front of her.

She did as he said, taking off the apron that was around her neck. She laid it on the palm of his hand that he held out, their hands grazing a bit as she watched him.

“Pass me the bowl.” He began cracking another egg in the same bowl that was in front of him.

She did that too. Reaching out for one of the bowls that was undamaged in her attempt at mixing prior to the flour incident.

“Show me the ingredients.”

She handed him everything she could. Keith started measuring and adding into the bowl that he was just using. He began whisking everything he put in there with such a serious expression on his face that Allura couldn’t help but watch him in awe. His hands were moving so quickly, she didn’t know how he could do it, but she knew as she watched him entranced at his movements in the kitchen that this wasn’t his first time. In other words, she knew he was skilled in combat, but in the kitchen as well? That was something she did not see coming.

“What?” His voice broke her out the pure amazed trance that lit up in her eyes as she watched him. He noticed.

“Oh! Ummm. It’s just you wearing an apron, looks so unlike you. It’s kind of...cute.” She admitted more to herself than to him, yet still swaying her eyes in a different direction as she said them. Not noticing the short silence that bestilled him as she said that one word ‘cute’.

“Well when you live on your own, you got to know how to take of yourself somehow.” He answered, seemingly unfazed by her words.

Though slowly, his face turned red, turning his head away so she couldn’t see. Yet curiosity got the best of her as she tried peering around to see his expression. Before she had a chance to see, Keith takes off his apron, stretching it out to her in her direction. Wondering if it was something she said as she looks at the apron from his hand that she just gave to him earlier.

“Here.”

“Oh you didn’t have to-” Feeling a bit guilty for him taking it off for her sake, but as to seeing him take another one out of the cupboard behind them, she washes away the thought.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to take yours. You need one too, don’t you?” Oh right. She remembered, looking at the slightly faded flour version of herself. “If you don’t plan to get yourself in a mess again I mean.” He smirks, handing the apron back to her, placing it in her hands as she took it.

“Thanks.” She says as she ties the apron around her neck, but then realizing his words at the end, speaking back. “And of course not! I plan to make them as good as--” She stopped herself before she could say anymore. As your father’s. Her eyes went down for a moment, then straight towards him as she saw him whisking in the bowl that he held like a professional chef would.

“Keith.” Her voice low yet not unheard.

“Yeah?” He glances to her for slight second as he continued mixing

“Was something on your mind?” She changes the subject as she remembers the memory of her and Krolia earlier.

“You know Keith has been worrying about something as well. Maybe if you made him something he would cheer up as well. Don’t you think so?” Krolia’s words place Allura in a questionable state, though for a hidden purpose unknowingly to the both of them.

“I suppose.” Allura says, sounding unsure of herself. So he’s been worrying about something too? I wondered what’s been on his mind? I wonder if he’ll like my cooking if I make him something. No, he’d probably reject it. Oh, Allura. Why do you keep thinking about this so much?

“Though Keith’s dad had a secret to his recipe.” Krolia continues, pulling Allura out of her worrisome thoughts once again.

“A secret?”

“Yes. The reason why his was good than anyone I’ve met while being on Earth for such a short time.” Krolia declares, the voice of her words edging back in this recess of Allura’s mind. That secret.

Staring at her as she asked, he looks away.

“No.” Keith answered, unknowingly to her that it was far from the truth.

Not wanting to actually say the words, he thought to himself. You have been on my mind. But of course, I’m going to say that. He knew it was something she shouldn’t be worried about, pushing it back behind him, instead he got to worrying on the task at hand.

“Here.” He spoke as he passed her a bowl of ingredients, Allura placed a look of confusion on her face, wondering she was suppose to do. He continued, a softness edging inside his words as he did, “I can make the dough, while you make the cinnamon and frosting. All you have to do is mix these ingredients with this much of the measurement.” Pointing the measuring cup in his hand as he hands it to her.

“If you need any help, just let me know.” She looks at the cup in awe, understanding what she needed to do and glad to actually know she was going to do it right this time.

During that time, they stayed focused on their tasks at hand. Baring minimum to any speaking that both might of wanted to take hold of, yet deciding to peek on the other’s progress when the other wasn’t looking. But for Keith, he knew when her eyes were on him. He didn’t have to look to see if they were, he could just feel it. As did she. Though of course, they were unwilling to admit such an act.

Once they appeared to have finished their cooking tasks, Keith checks on their results, looking at her as he pushed a bit of his hair away from himself.

“You done?”

“I think so. Hope it’s correct. I did follow your directions as ordered.” She replies, holding out two bowls that was mixed with cinnamon filling in one and frosting in the other bowl.

“I didn’t order you, you know. And it looks like you did them right.” Scooping a finger from the sides of the bowls and licking them off onto his lips, a look of satisfaction emerging on his face.

She couldn’t help but blush at his gesture towards the work she spent making sure was precise as he told her. Was it good? Did I do it right? She thought.

“Not bad.” He spoke.

She smiled. His words weren’t a lot, but they were enough.

As Keith took the bowl with the cinnamon filling in it, he had already placed perfectly neat slices on to the dough that. Allura watched him as he layered the cinnamon on top of the dough, slowly without a mistake slipping on his fingertips as he poured it.

Watching Keith spin the dough mixed cinnamon into a perfect spiral shape, Allura clapped her hands in delight, “Oh! So that’s how they’re rolls!” She tried taking one herself and do the same thing, though it ended up less than perfection. Her face, unamused.

Keith couldn’t help but laugh once again.

“You really haven’t done this before have you?” He says as he looks as if he was about to wipe a tear off his face.

“There’s a first time for everything.” She says, taking another strip of dough to try roll it to perfection or at least what looked like perfection.

As they both began rolling the dough-wrapped-in-cinnamon into the desired shape, they couldn’t help but start getting competitive over who would make the most before the dough was all gone. From then on, their rolling became an intense race of cinnamon roll madness. Both eyes in competitive mode till the last dough was gone but reaching an amount of amusement in their bodies as they did it.

Until it was done.

And the winner was….

“Hah I win!” Allura jumps up at Keith as she slams the last piece of rolled cinnamon dough onto the pan. Keith sulked, ducking his head down, admitting defeat as he noticed that Allura definitely more cinnamon rolls made than he would of thought. But what was on her pan was more than what the rolls were supposed to actually look like. Only a handful actually looked like the cinnamon-y appearance, though of course Keith was reluctant to say anything as he saw Allura’s cheerful face gleaming for her accomplishment. He let it slide...this time around.

He decided to take the newly-made batches into the oven, sliding them straight inside as he closed the oven door shut.

“If you’d like to do the honors, winner.” Keith announced, pointing to the timer right above the oven.

“It would be my pleasure.” Allura says, spinning the dial for the countdown to cinnamon goodness to begin.

Now the waiting game was taking hold of the situation with silence taking over once more. Both of them felt exhausted from the inside, though it was only Allura whose appearance shown to be more famished than either one of them could of admit. But as they the quietness of waiting for the slowly-baked goods to reveal their true form, Keith felt his eyes drawn back to her once again.

Her eyes were still amuck from the rolling that had some reminisce of leftover flour traced upon it. But nonetheless, he looked at her like she was the prettiest thing in the room, in the whole ship, probably in the whole universe. Wait, what? What am I thinking about? He thought to himself as he began to think of something else that was on his mind...again.

“Allura.”

“Yes-s?” She startled a bit at the sound of her name from his lips.

“Has something been bothering you?” He asks, questioning himself on the inside. If you want to ask her. Now’s the time to do it.

She was silent.

“No. Not at all. Why do you ask?” Knowing that she was saying the same words right back that he answered just earlier before. Unbelievable. He knew that.

“Because-” He paused on his words, wondering if he should say what has been on his mind for the last few days since arriving back on the ship. If he should say the words he’s been wanting to say since he saw that smile of hers. That if she was hurting, if she was lonely, he would be by her side without hesitation. Always. He looked at her in the eyes, her purple irises seemed lost at that moment, but he knew he needed to say it. He wanted to say it. What do I want? He thought to himself as he said his next words carefully.

“Because you smiled.”

Allura felt Keith’s eyes pull her in shock at the words that left his lips. She did not know how react. But she knew it to be true. She didn’t want to avoid telling what she felt, even if it was something only she can endure. It was only for a slight second that she reminded herself why she was doing this in the first place. Why she was here. To get her mind off it. Off him.

As her sky blue eyes were locked with his, at what seemed like an invisible hold that she couldn’t let go. She managed to break away, telling him in all honest.

“Sometimes I’m just afraid of forgetting.”

Forgetting? Keith thought to himself as she said the word. Thinking how he initially was coming here to forget his concerns with something to eat. The concerns that left him lying awake at night, hours on end because he didn’t know what was going on in her head. Allura continued.

“Forgetting the people that left me. Father. Mother.” She stopped for a moment, catching her breath as she did as if the memory of the place that once brought her so much joy was nothing but dust in the vast universe. “My home.” Keith stared at her, eyes unchanged as always yet a softness was emerging from his irises than he, himself could have noticed. He spoke.

“You know when my dad died. I was just a kid. Besides feeling sad. A part of myself also felt angry. I thought to myself why he would leave me? Why didn’t he come back? What am I supposed to do now? Now that he was gone. I was all alone. There was so many things going through my mind at that time and questions I still had unanswered, especially the part of myself that felt like didn’t belong just back at home, but somewhere else.”

He continued on. She listened.

Only one thought crossing her mind at the time. You are not alone. I wouldn’t let you be. Not again.

“Maybe attending the Galaxy Garrison was a part of that, I wasn’t sure where I was going, but I was going to figure out soon enough. Whether it was on my own or some other way. Meeting Shiro just became a stepping stone in being a bit better than I was. To finding who I was. Meeting the team just added on to that. The Blade. My mom. As well as meeting you.” He smiles in her direction as he says those last words with all earnest. In addition to remainder of his opened declaration of growth, he finished with these words.

“I know I won’t ever forget my dad. He’s someone who will be a part of me till I die. Someone important that raised me on his own, so if you ever worry that you’re forgetting someone. Someone important. Just remember who you are and you’ll remember them right back.”

“Wise words, Red Paladin.”

“Well they aren’t just mine, Princess.” He responds, his eyes adrift as if looking in the distance.

“To tell you the truth, I was a bit jealous of the relationship you were having with your mother. Wondering if only I had my mother back. Would she be like her? Caring. Nurturing. Attentive. But after hearing all those stories about your past. It gives me satisfaction to know you were finally able to find what you were looking for. And for that I’m happy to have you back with us.” To me. That one thought gave her the answer she needed, revealing a smile that was more than Keith could of hoped for.

“In time, I hope I won’t be forgotten either.” Her smile still unwavering and filled with content in her eyes.

One thought crossed his mind as he wanted to say more out loud for her to hear.

I would never forget you.

“Allura. I--”

DING

The sound of the oven timer hitting its designated time broke their trance in revealing their true feelings. But even as it did, they seemed more closer than they intended to realize. Shoulders touching the whole time before they were about to part by the smell of the baked dessert rolling under their noses.

Keith pulls them out from the over as the smell increased, excitement filling up both their faces and stomachs as he laid them out on the counter, waiting for a few moments for them to cool down. Once they seemed cool enough, Keith told her how to frost them. Allura did the best she could, even sticking her tongue out in determination to make it look neat as possible.

It was completed.

Taking a bite at the same time, Allura’s expression became a wide range of delight and splendor as her hard work paid off in the delicious taste that she surmounted in having more. And more. And more. And more than she realized she could eat.

As for Keith, the moment he bit the swirled treat in his hand, a light smile shown underneath that blank yet slowly breaking exterior of his as a feeling of nostalgia washed through him with each bite.

They weren’t the same taste. He knew that. But the feeling of eating one again reminded him of that day. Seemed like so long ago. But definitely a time he wouldn’t forget. Back when he was alive.

“You know son. You shouldn’t be slouching like that just because you lost a fight. Remind me again how you got into one again?” The voice of a father, hovered over a young child. The young child was bruised in the face yet nothing serious as he sat there on the seat of the kitchen table, contemplating on a response.

“It’s nothing. They were just saying something I didn’t like.” The young boy responded. Something about mom.

“You know, the best way to not to worry about people like that is to know when it’s better to fight when it matters, not when it’s to someone’s interest. Cause if you do then you’ve already lost.”

Ruffling his head into a mess that seemed more than his face at the moment.

“And sometimes the best way to forget about it is with some good old fashioned cinnamon rolls!” A plate clattered in front of him with a huge stack of the homemade snack right in front of him on the table. The smell of fresh baked cinnamon seeping into his nostrils as if waiting to be eaten with one bite.

“Again?” His voice sounded annoyed but not rejecting the offer.

“Come on, Keith. What’s with the face? You know you enjoy them as much as I do.”

“How do you know I enjoy them so much?” He raised an eyebrow to his father, sitting up straight as he did.

“I’m your dad, of course I would know! Plus, you wouldn’t be taking one if you didn’t.” Pointing to Keith, who already had one in his hand.

“Whatever you say.” Keith retorted back, little bit of red showing in his cheeks as he was about to open his mouth eat it.

Before he could, Keith’s dad snatches the cinnamon roll right as Keith was about to bite it. Mouth wide open with emptiness, his eyes widened in shock as he looks at his dad like it was worse than getting punched in the face.

“Hey that one’s mine!” Keith shouts, trying to reach for it with his small arm as his dad held is arm up higher away from him.

“Not if the other one eats it first. You gotta be quicker than that, Keith.” Keith smirks back, accepting the challenge as his dad’s laughter began to fade out.

Back into his memories.

Keith finished up the cinnamon roll he had in his mouth and began taking another, though pondering on the late memory as a young child. He knew that memories like that won’t fade out so easily, even people as he looked towards Allura who was still enjoying the treats in her hand and into her mouth.

On the other hand as much as Allura was enjoying her delicious desserts to her heart’s content, she wondered if Keith was enjoying as much as she was. It was one thing for him to help her out in making this dish so late at night. But to know if actually liked them was another. Though as she caught a glimpse of him eating one, she saw the one thing that set her mind at ease.

A smile.

One she knew was of pure joy and contentment. An answer that had her remembering the last bit of words that Krolia told right before they parted ways in their unprecedented conversation.

“What was it?” Allura asked, wondering her previous question. Was there really such a secret? Krolia answered, closing her eyes for just a moment as if she was thinking about the past. A time that once made her so happy that she wished she could of stayed in.

She opened her eyes, revealing a quaint smile on her lips as she spoke, “The secret to why it was so good though wasn’t because it was good to eat. It was good because he had a reason to make it. To cheer me up. To make me happy. He was making them for me, that was actually one of the reasons I fell in love with him. Cause every time he gave them to me, he gave them with a smile.”

“Sometimes when you see a smile of someone you care for. You know it’s more than you could of hoped.”

“It was a smile of someone I loved.” Loved. The vague image of the person that’s been clouding her mind appeared for a second, though disappearing as she shook the thought out of her head before she could identify it.

“Though you look like someone who doesn’t have to worry about such things just yet. But if you do, you know where to find me.” Krolia takes off, leaving a clueless Allura to her thoughts once again.

I think I found my own secret too. But that I’ll just keep to myself..for now. The realization processing through her as if the answer was always staring right at her in the face, she began to wonder if it was the same for him. She asked.

“Keith, you sure you haven’t been bothered by anything recently?”

Keith stopped for moment, who was already cleaning some of the dishes that were in the sink that have been used.

“There was.”

“Was?” Allura asked, tilting her head a bit to the side.

“Yeah, there was something on my mind a lot and I felt I wasn’t too sure of myself on what I saw was true but after being here, doing something that reminded me of who I was before. And what I was worried about before too. I think I finally found my answer.” It was you. The realization formed a smile on his face to look at her, who Allura in return looked back in confusion.

“Oh is that so?”

“I actually got to thank you for that.”

“Me-e. I don’t think I did much, but I’m glad to know you are feeling better than before. You shouldn’t lose that look on your face. It’s more to my liking, I’d say.” What look? He thought, unaware of the smile that lifted her spirits. Yet there wasn’t much that needed to be said after that as both their answers were just within reach. But this time, they both knew it.

As they both finished cleaning up the kitchen area, trying to make it as spotless as possible that no one would have known of their messy presence. Allura thought she might want to save the remainder of the the cinnamon rolls for the paladins when they finally awoke, but then again they would of probably wondered how she them, deciding to keep the delicious snacks to herself for now.

“I just wanted to say my thanks in helping me out with this. I couldn’t have done this without your help.” Allura says, turning to Keith who looked about done with cleaning the part of the area he was in.

“It’s no problem.” He says to her as he stands in front of her, very closely without warning. Though he pulls himself back just as his face was in close proximity of their noses touching, “If I’m ever in the mood for a midnight snack, I’ll let you know.” Keith says as he walks out the doorway, taking a piece of cinnamon roll with him. “Though with your cooking habits, I think I’ll know sooner than I can sleep.” Waving a hand goodbye behind him to her as he walked out. Noticing that emptiness again at her fingertips, she shouts.

“Hey! That was--”

The doors closed shut. Her voice barely coming out as she replied.

“Mine.”

Leaving a blank Allura, blushing more than her heart could take. This time, she definitely knew why.

As the night may have ended, it was just the beginning for both of them.

--------Mini Bonus Epilogue-----

The steps of the red paladin reached back to his room as he sat back onto his bed. He sighed yet giving off a smile that revealed the result of his late night escapade into the kitchen. Undetected by anyone on the ship. Except one.

“How were the cinnamon rolls?” A voice rang in his ears right behind him.

“Not as good as Dad’s but just the same feeling.” He answered without question. Wait a second. “You told her didn’t you?” He questioned her as he turned his body around to see Krolia lying comfortably on the same bed next to him, the same way she looked when he left.

“What do you mean? I just happen to say some things and she listened. Nothing out of the ordinary.” Her words sounding prepared as if she was waiting for this to happen.

“Right...” His voiced out slowly, unconvinced.

“Jeez, Keith. If you want to ask the girl out, you got to ask her. Not think about her till your stomach growls.”

He shrugged at her words, shifting himself on his backside as his eyes stared up onto the ceiling.

“Baking is good start though.” Krolia spoke. Keith closed his eyes.

“Yeah. It’s a start.” He muttered to himself as his eyes finally drifted off into slumber.

“Next time, though you might want to be more quieter in doing so. I think the whole ship might of heard your boisterous laughter.” Krolia slips those words out, just as one last smile appeared on her face for the remainder of the night, along with the wide eyes of Keith’s who were taken aback by her sudden words that made them open. At this point, sleep wasn’t on Keith’s side tonight.

In the end, maybe those doors weren’t so soundproof after all. Or perhaps, Krolia’s ears were just too well enhanced-in-hearing to not eavesdrop on her son’s alone time with the princess.

Either way, it was a night they all wouldn’t forget.

OMG. It took me some time but i finished!!!!!! gosh you do not know how happy this makes me. finally finishing a work that only took me bout a week to do, that’s legit writer goals, pat on the back for me! Especially it being Kallura, like HECK YESS, they deserve each other! lol I thank everyone who have enjoyed this story as much as I did! and it you’re ever interest in seeing more of my writing works in the future. Just give me a follow! This one thing has given me a lot of hope in my writing capabilities again and I def plan to do more in the future! maybe do an actual full voltron fic. You never know? lol. Well hope to hear you all thoughts on this last piece of this fun story. Till next time!

#kallura #kallura fic #keith kogane #allura #princess allura #voltron #voltron legendary defender #vld keith #vld allura

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your-brother-crutchie · 6 years

Text

Commitment

“I know you love me, but I’m sick of lying when I say it back.”

“If I would’ve known he was going to die, you think I would’ve done it?”

I’m so sorry that this has taken so long but I’m back! I’ve been super busy with uni decisions and confirmations and coursework.

Brushing past Race on his way into the kitchen, Spot couldn’t help but linger on the lack of excitement that Race brought him. They’d been together for almost two years and Spot was beginning to feel stifled. Race was trying to settle down, Race wanted to move in, Race was content. Spot was not.

Spot felt stuck in a routine, Spot felt bored, Spot was bored of Race.

He knew that it would ruin their friendship, those ten years before they’d become something more would be going down the drain, but he couldn’t stay anymore. He didn’t want to settle down, he didn’t want Race to move in. He wanted to break up.

When Race turned up at his apartment, miserable and quiet, Spot hated to do this when he was anything but happy but he didn’t think he could have crushed one of Race’s smiles, either. He was always so happy. Spot waited as long as he could, sitting with him on the sofa, drifting his fingers absentmindedly over Race’s arm, until he couldn’t hold the words back any longer.

“We should break up.”

The way that Race’s body froze made Spot want to die. He swallowed nervously as Race pulled himself up and away from him. His stiff stare sent daggers into Spot’s chest but he stood firm; there was no going back now.

Race turned himself around before speaking, making sure that he could face Spot head-on, “What?” It must have been hard. After all, Spot couldn’t really name anything wrong. He knew that he loved Race and he didn’t really know what he was looking for, he just didn’t think that this was it.

Scratching nervously behind his ear, Spot avoided looking at Race for the longest time as he tried desperately to think of an answer, “I just- I feel- I feel trapped. I shouldn’t feel trapped. I know you love me but I’m sick of lying when I say it back.” That was probably a little bit too harsh but Spot wanted to make sure that Race got it. His forehead folded, however, as Race stood silently and began gathering his things. He hadn’t really meant for him to leave, especially not when Race was so upset about something. Race was quite violently emotional and Spot didn’t want to think what could happen to him if he walked home alone, “Where are you going?”

A loud scoff escaped from Race as he tried frantically to fasten his coat, “Home. You don’t want me anymore. Why should I stay here?” As Race finally finished fumbling with the buttons, he made his way to the door but Spot caught him by the arm before he could go anywhere.

“Hey, no. It’s late. It’s not safe. Just stay here for tonight.” Spot knew that he was being pathetic but something told him not to let Race leave. If anything happened to him, Spot didn’t know what he’d do. He’d seemed frailer than usual lately.

Yanking his arm away aggressively, Race only snarled as Spot stood and came closer, “What do you care?” He tried to back up to the door, clearly scared of Spot coming too close. Spot knew that Race loved him like he always had, this wouldn’t change something like that, so he stopped himself from coming too close. Part of him knew that he wouldn’t be able to resist, either.

Spot shook his head, trying to make Race understand that this wasn’t easy. It wasn’t a straightforward decision, “I still care about you.” He felt his fingers gripping the back of the sofa behind him, needing something to support himself from the onslaught of Race’s cracked eyes.

Furiously snapping his head from one side to the other, Race’s face contorted as he turned and pulled angrily on the door handle, “Yeah right.” Although he looked angry, there was a note of bitter sweetness to the way he said those words, carrying them down the corridor with him as Spot ran to the doorway. The sight of Race’s body retreating down that hallway made something like regret echo around Spot’s empty chest.

“Race-!“

“Save it!”

For the next few weeks, Spot was miserable. It had taken him only two days to realise that a life without Race fucking sucked. He wasn’t bored of Race; he was scared of commitment.

Eventually, Spot swallowed his pride and made his way to the block of apartments provided by the university. Most of their friends had chosen to move away for second year, it was what most people did, but Race was still living in halls with Jojo and Albert and a few other first years that they had met.

When he reached the building, Spot rang the bell for their corridor and Jojo answered, promising to let him in but also warning him that Race really didn’t want to see him. Also including that if Race asked who’d let him in, it was Albert. Though, Spot was warned not to let Albert see him because Jojo couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t attack him.

Spot knew that it was a mistake as soon as he opened the door to the corridor of six rooms, the kitchen at the end. Race’s hall was one of the party halls, there was never any peace. However, as Spot made his way to the third door on the left, the closest to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but notice how quiet it was. Whilst the other people on the floor were wild, they were also considerate. The silence reminded Spot of the weeks after Jojo’s mother had died.

As he walked up to Race’s closed door (Race’s door was never closed), Spot paused for a moment before knocking, just needing to breathe before what was coming. He knew it would be bad at this point, Spot was being delusional.

The door opened slowly and Spot’s heart cracked when he saw the different boy in front of him. It wasn’t Race. He wasn’t happy, he wasn’t smiling; he looked thin and frail and broken. If Spot didn’t know better, he would have thought that Race was really ill.

Spot quickly tried to get his point in there as he immediately saw the look on Race’s face when he first glanced up. He couldn’t lose out on this chance by letting him shut the door on him first, “Race, I made a huge fucking mistake.”

Shrugging him off, Race’s hurt expression twisted into a harsh sneer as Spot noticed the tight grip he held on the door, “Yeah, you did. Fuck off.” Race looked into Spot’s eyes for the first time, the cold glare piercing Spot’s fragile ego before he let the door slam shut in his face.

“Alright, Emily, Daddy has to go to work but he’s leaving you with Auntie Katherine. Is that okay?“ Kneeling in front of his four-year-old daughter on the pavement outside the nursery that Katherine worked at part-time, Spot brushed his hand nervously over the side of her face.

This was the first time that he was going back to work after Emily’s mother had left. His mum had been helping him as much as she could but she couldn’t afford to support herself, Spot, and his daughter forever. Money was just running out.

Spot didn’t really want to leave Emily alone but he needed to go back to work and Katherine’s nursery was the best place for her. She usually looked after her when Spot couldn’t anyway so at least Emily would have someone that she knew. It wasn’t like he was leaving her all on her own, she had Kath, and, apparently, a couple of their other old friends worked there, too.

He reached forward, taking Emily into his arms and holding her tightly to his chest. Her blonde ponytail was already falling out; Spot’s mother had left early that morning and he couldn’t do her hair for shit. There was something about brushing and pulling it up into a ponytail that was just too difficult for him. It escaped Spot entirely and he didn’t even really know why, it wasn’t like it was particularly difficult. Emily didn’t want plaits or even pigtails, just one simply ponytail that he couldn’t even manage. He had to admit, it did make him feel particularly useless but his mother was always trying to reassure him that he didn’t have to be good at it, it wasn’t a requirement.

Pulling away and standing, Spot swung Emily’s backpack over his shoulder and took her hand in his before leading her inside. The bright colours and sounds of happy children made Spot falter slightly, a little taken aback by it all. He was only pulled out of this by a familiar, though distracted, accent.

“Hey, welcome to Sarah’s Nursery. Are you new? Can I take your names?” The accent hit Spot like a sack of bricks as his neck snapped up to see Race standing there, donning the uniform yellow t-shirt with a kid-proofed iPad in hand.

When Race eventually glanced up, his eyes first went to Emily. The way they crinkled when he smiled hadn’t changed in those five years at all. Race was thinner but he looked alright. He dipped down to Emily’s level instantly, taking her hand and making her giggle, grinning himself, “Hello, Sweetheart, I’m Race. I’m going to be your mentor whilst you’re here. Anything at all, you can come to me.” He reached forward, poking her lightly in the stomach as she laughed before turning to look up at Spot.

The way he froze made Spot’s breath shudder as he pulled Emily just slightly closer to his body. He kept his eyes fixed on Race as he stood up slowly, clearing his throat and beginning to type something on his tablet, “I can get someone else, if you want? I can get Katherine?”

“No! I- uhh. It’s alright. You were always great with kids.” Spot didn’t know what he was saying but he couldn’t let Race leave, not again. He needed to talk to him, he’d been miserable ever since that day. Anyway, Race probably would be great for Emily. He’d always had a wonderful way with his younger brother and sisters, Emily would like him. After all, Spot liked him.

Nodding, Race seemed to glance around for a second, as if looking for help, before he led the way to a child sized table nearby, “There are just a few forms I need you to fill in. I’m sure you’ve already spoken to Sarah, Kath will have made sure of that, but we just need your contact details.” He smiled almost tensely as Spot watched, taking the pen as gingerly as he could to avoid touching Race’s fingers. As he filled in the forms, Spot kept glancing up every so often, seeing the way that Race would smile at Emily whenever he caught her eyes and the way that she giggled around him. Emily had always been quite shy, she didn’t like new people.

Spot pushed the papers over to Race as soon as he was done, drawing Emily onto his knee and pressing a kiss to her temple. As Race looked over the papers, he told Emily that she could go and play with the other kids in his section. For the first time ever, Emily ran off without a complaint.

“So, uhh. How long have you- um. You married?” Race stumbled through his words, clearly nervous as he transferred the phone numbers into his iPad. The way he was struggling made Spot feel horrible, he hadn’t stammered like that since Spot had first met him. He couldn’t stand to listen to him struggling like that and he could barely stand to sit across from him, either. Even after five years, Spot still had the urge to hold him and protect him.

When he registered what Race had said, however, Spot almost started laughing. The idea of him settling down was ludicrous. After all, that was why he’d broken up with Race in the first place, “Married? Me? God, no! No, uhm. It was just- some stupid one-night- thing. She, uhh, she left as soon as Emily was born.”

Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Race shuffled in his seat as he tapped away, putting in all of the information as he glanced up at Spot occasionally, “Oh? I’m really sorry.” Spot didn’t miss it, the way that Race was looking at him every couple of seconds. There was something there, a look in Race’s eye that Spot knew from another time was still there. Dormant but there.

Spot let out a bark of laughter, the idea of anyone being sorry that he was away from her was absurd, “Nah, don’t be. It’s better this way, she was awful.” He grinned as Race let out an involuntary giggle, one of the cute ones that he used to do when Spot would brush his hand up his side, trying to be hot, but it would only tickle him and make him laugh instead. Spot tried his best not to let it show but he was pretty sure that the manic grin on his face wasn’t doing anything in his favour.

“What about you?” Part of Spot didn’t want the answer to that question. Or at least, he didn’t want the answer that he was expecting. He’d moved on with his life, it made perfect sense that Race would have, too.

Chuckling, Race shook his head as he glanced up at Spot, “Me? Oh, no. Still, uhh, still haven’t found the right guy.” He laughed nervously, sitting back and looking up at Spot. Whilst he’d been looking at him a lot since he’d walked in, Spot had the feeling that, for the first time, Race was really looking at him.

A nod started instantly as Spot immediately felt the need to reassure him, “You will.” Race was wonderful and, as much as Spot wanted to say that he would be perfect for him, he also knew that it wasn’t likely that Race would want that. Race would, however, find whatever he wanted. Spot had always known that everything would work out for Race, he was just one of those people.

He smiled briefly, the lilting expression crossing Race’s lips as he nodded, “I know.” They sat in silence, watching Emily play with the other kids for a while as Spot still couldn’t really believe how sociable she was being.

After a couple of minutes, Spot looked at his watch and realised the time. If he didn’t get going soon, he’d be late for his first day. Standing quickly, Spot scratched the back of his head as Race looked up at him and tried to play his jerky movement as casual, “Look, I have to get to work but would you like to get a coffee, sometime? Catch up?” He couldn’t really believe he was doing this, asking Race on a loosely veiled date, but he couldn’t help himself, either. Spot needed this.

The way that Race looked at him gave Spot a little bit of hope. The corner of his mouth turned up in an almost wistful smile, his eyes crinkling just like they always had, “Yeah. Yeah, I’d- I’d love that.” He looked down for a second, smiling as he wound his fingers around each other, before looking back up at Spot with that look on his face; the Race one.

Spot grinned, nodding as he ducked away cautiously, a little too happy for himself to be casual, “Great! Tomorrow? Two? He hovered, waiting for an answer as Race stood up and joined him.

Laughing, Race nodded as he took a couple of steps to walk Spot out, “Yeah, sure.” Spot’s feet were planted to the ground, though, and Race only ended up a little closer to him than was natural. Except it was natural. Everything about being this close to Race felt natural. Race’s breath fanning lightly onto his skin, Race’s vanilla perfume, Race’s blue eyes and bashful smile.

Struggling to tear himself away, Spot eventually took a small step backwards. He faltered, not wanting to leave Race, and found that he just couldn’t stop talking, “Great. So, I’ll- uhh. I’ll see you around?” He smiled awkwardly, trying his best to not look like a gormless idiot but seriously struggling.

A teasing smile took over Race, one that Spot remembered so vividly, as he walked him to the door, “When you pick Emily up?” He grinned as Spot felt his cheeks beginning to redden, hating himself for it as Race only laughed.

Spot hated what Race did to him. This was one of the reasons why he left. He was scared of the commitment, scared that he actually wanted to stay with Race forever. He’d told himself that it was because Race wanted to settle down but that wasn’t the case at all. Spot was scared because Race made Spot want to settle down.

He paused, realising how stupid he’d been, and laughed it off. Spot grinned, just seeing Race so happy and comfortable around him again made him never want to leave his side, “Right, yeah, duh.” Chuckling, Spot rubbed nervously at his forehead as their laughter drifted into an almost comfortable silence. He jumped into action again, however, and blinked a little too quickly, opening the door behind him as he made that final effort to leave, “Bye.”

Before the door closed behind him, Spot heard a quiet little, “Bye,” from Race and smiled to himself. He held the door open the tiniest bit for a second, just to see if he could catch the look on his face and wasn’t at all disappointed.

Spot had got Race’s number when he picked Emily up, arranging the details of their- was it too eager to call it a date? He waited anxiously outside the small coffee shop that Jojo and Darcy worked at, and was apparently wonderful as the bitter wind whistled between the buildings around him. What if Race didn’t show? Did Race really want Spot back in his life? He’d been an arsehole.

“Hey.”

Except, when Spot turned around to see Race standing there, everything felt right again.

It had been four days since Race picked up the phone. His texts went unanswered and unread, his mailbox remained full from the first barrage of worried voicemails that Spot had left him.

They’d hit it off again that day in the cafe and had been dating for a month or two but everything was still very casual. Spot hadn’t been to Race’s apartment and the furthest that they’d got had been a peck as they cuddled on the sofa. It was difficult to get intimate with a four-year-old in the next room.

However, Race wouldn’t pick up his phone and Spot couldn’t even think of anything that he’d done wrong. Running his thumb over the cursive handwriting on the paper in his fingers, Spot had left Emily with his mother as he stepped nervously down the long corridor. Thankfully, Race had written his address down on a small scrap of paper and stuck it to Spot’s fridge. He hadn’t understood why Race couldn’t just tell him it if he asked when he needed it but now he was glad that he’d done it.

When he found the number, Spot sighed with relief as he recognised the flower pot Race had painted sitting beside the mat outside the door. He folded the paper and slipped it into his pocket, straightening his shirt before knocking.

“Spot?” Jojo’s trembling voice surprised Spot when the door swung open. For some reason, he hadn’t imagined Race living with anyone else. What shocked Spot more, were the tears falling down Jojo’s cheeks. Though Jojo’s surprised expression held him for a moment, they soon started spiralling down once again, “What are you doing here?” Clearly, he hadn’t known that Spot was back in Race’s life.

Shuffling from one foot to the other, Spot scratched nervously behind his ear as he looked anywhere but at Jojo. He couldn’t deal with crying people, “Race won’t pick up his phone. Is he here?” Spot stared awkwardly for a moment, not sure what to do as Jojo’s features crumpled like a scrap of paper in a back pocket, “Are you- are you okay?”

Jojo shook his head, pulling his jumper sleeves over his trembling fingers as he leaned his head against the doorframe, “Oh, Spot, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know to call you so soon. Did Race not tell you?” He sighed deeply, not quite ready to give up on holding himself together as he wrapped his arms tightly around his chest and tried to slow his ragged breathing down.

There was something about Jojo’s tone that Spot didn’t like, something very final about it. He took a small step back, as if to put more distance between himself and whatever Jojo was trying to say, “Tell me what?” He narrowed his eyes and flicked them over Jojo.

Sighing, Jojo shook his head as all of his efforts to pull himself back together fell apart, “He had cancer, Spot.”

Spot’s eyes flared as he took another step back, not wanting to listen to whatever Jojo was telling him, “Had? What do you mean had?” The panic flooded his heart as soon as he realised where this was going. He couldn’t possibly entertain the idea that anything regarding to Race would be in the past tense.

“I’m sorry, Spot. Race died on Sunday.”

A pounding silence resonated in Spot’s ears as Jojo’s words faded from his hearing. He felt silence dripping around his body, quietly coating everything until it shattered with a terrible sobbing. Spot looked around, trying to find where it had come from before realising that it was coming from deep within himself. Every other sound slowly drifted back into focus as he felt Jojo’s arms helping him carefully to a dining chair inside the apartment.

Jojo said nothing as he put the kettle on, facing out of the kitchen window as he poured the boiling water into two mugs and dropped teabags into them. The quiet sounds of the spoon knocking against the side of the mugs as Jojo stirred the milk into the cups seemed deafening before he turned and placed one carefully in front of Spot.

They sat in silence for another few minutes as Jojo blew gently over his tea, watching attentively as Spot tightened his fingers around the scalding mug and held them there, “So, uhh- how long have you been speaking again?”

Finally snapping out of it, Spot hissed as he let go of the mug and stared at his red palm in distant confusion, “Uhm, since I got a new job in Manhattan? I took my- uhh, I have a daughter now. I took her to the nursery and we went for coffee. Everything’s just very casual so I’m not surprised he hasn’t told you.” Spot didn’t miss himself talking about Race as though he were still there, and clearly neither did Jojo, but he wasn’t about to correct himself.

Jojo nodded and they fell into quiet again as he sipped his tea, staring at something behind Spot that he couldn’t see. Whatever it was, however, was enough to make Jojo’s eyes buckle and his chin to fall once again, “Look, Albert will be back soon. I don’t want to kick you out when you’re like this so I will warn you about him. He was mad when you left Race, still is. I don’t think he’ll be happy to see you back.”

Looking down into his tea, Spot felt the shame creeping up the back of his neck. Albert had every right to be angry, but if Race had forgiven him, then maybe he should, too.

The door handle turning pulled Spot from his conversation with Jojo about the time that Race had filled Darcy’s room with tiny little ceramic pianos after Darcy had mentioned wanting to bring his piano to university but having nowhere to put it.

“Hey, Jojo, I was thinking about cooking something for dinner. We can’t just keep ordering pizza-“ Albert stopped as soon as he looked up from his phone, eyes narrowing the moment that they settled on Spot, “What the fuck is he doing here? Race wouldn’t want him here.”

Standing quickly, Jojo tried to place a hand reassuringly on Albert’s shoulder though found himself being violently shrugged off, “Just hear me out, okay? They’ve been back in touch, they were dating. Spot’s only just found out, okay? Don’t do this now-“

“What the hell?” Clearly, Albert wouldn’t be listening to Jojo as he stalked forward and prodded at Spot to stand up, “You left him! You made him hate himself for four fucking years! He loved you and then he got sick and had to deal with it without you there!” Albert squared up to Spot as he snarled, getting no response from the boy who would usually be so ready to snap and fight back.

However, Spot did only take one more prod to the chest before he spoke up, “If I would’ve know he was going to die, you think I would’ve done it? I was a fucking idiot, I get it!”

Shaking his head, Albert scoffed as he took the smallest step back from Spot, “That night you left him? He’d gone to tell you he was sick. You’d have known if you’d stuck around long enough to listen.” Spitting the words at him, Albert sneered as he took Spot by the shoulder and pushed him forcefully out of the apartment and into the cold hallway, “He wouldn’t have wanted you here.”

#newsies #newsies fanfiction #rowan writes #rowan writes sprace #sprace #spot/race #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #jojo #albert #angst #mylifeisinmyhead #fics

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kristallioness · 7 years

Text

Bi the way...

Summary: Kya's parents find out that she's bisexual.

Word count: 1,614

Author's note: Am I really the only person one of the few who's happy that the Avatar fandom is (more) alive again thanks to "Turf Wars"? When I saw a few spoilers from that comic (particularly about how Aang didn't mind that Kya was bisexual, like AT ALL), I knew I had to write a story about it. I was so happy that I cried a little because finally some more proof that Aang and Kya did get along well! The way Kya describes how air nomads are accepting of differences and embraced everyone, just.. *clutches chest, wipes away tears* Aang loved Kya with all his heart and nobody can convince me otherwise now! I shed tears while writing the draft for this fic. This one's for you too, @avatarwindboy, @chel-burr and @jinoras-light! Also, Kya only talks about her first girlfriend, soooo...

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

It was the third night in a row when a teenage Kya returned home late at night. She waterbended a wave up to the edge of Air Temple Island and, without making too much noise, let the water flow back into Yue Bay. She sneaked behind some familiar bushes and upon reaching the wall of the temple, climbed into her room through the window - the secret escape route she'd already figured out ever since she began meeting with that special girl of hers.

Kya threw her travelling bag on the floor and began changing into her night clothes.

"Kya? Where have you been?"

The younger waterbender nearly tumbled over as she was busy pulling off her boots when her mother's voice startled her. Katara didn't sound mad though, more curious.

"Mom!? What are you doing up so late?"

"I was just getting some tea because I was waiting for your father to come home," Katara stepped inside the room, a cup filled with slightly boiling water and tea leaves in her hands. She took a small sip. She was already dressed in her pyjamas and her hair was a tad messy. She probably fell asleep, but was too worried about her husband and woke up because of that.

"But why are you up so late?"

"Do I really have to answer that?" Kya averted her gaze, slightly hanging her head in shame. Katara walked up to her and placed a supportive hand on her shoulder.

"Kya, sweetie.. If you're in any kind of trouble, you need to tell me so I can help you."

"No! I'm not in trouble. It's something.. different."

Katara beckoned her daughter to take a seat on the bed. They both did. The elder waterbender took another sip of her tea, even offering some of it to the younger one. Kya took it in her slightly shaking hands and drank a little.

"What is it, sweetie? You can tell me," Katara wrapped her arm around Kya's shoulders, nudging closer to her.

"I uhh.. I was out spending time with a friend of mine. Well, not just a friend.. She's a very special kind of friend," Kya began explaining, a blush creeping up on her cheeks. She hoped that her mother wouldn't notice it in the dark. She did.

"Okay, there's nothing wrong about that. So what are you so worried about?"

Kya looked into her mother's compassionate diamond blue eyes before she took a deep breath.

"Mom, I have something to confess.. I, I think I might like both boys and girls."

There was a moment of silence before Katara released a sigh of relief.

"Is that everything? That's what you were worried about?"

"Y-you.. you're not mad?" Kya's cerulean eyes grew wide. Her mother took it so easily like it was nothing new.

"Of course not, sweetie," Katara cupped her daughter's cheek. She looked like she was about to cry. Katara took the tea cup from her hands and placed it on the nightstand so she could wipe her cheeks dry.

"Oh, Kya.. come here! Don't cry!" Katara pulled Kya into her embrace, gently running her hand over her head to comfort her. She hushed her little waterbender until her sobbing quietened down.

"I'm glad you shared this with me. And your father should know, too."

"Mom, no! Maybe dad will freak out," Kya pushed herself away from her mother's arms to look at her, but Katara pulled her in for another hug to calm her down.

"I very much doubt that. But alright, if you don't wanna tell him, I'll keep it a secret. I'm just not sure how long I can keep it. He's also become suspicious of what you've been doing out late so much recently. He'll figure it out sooner or later."

"Maybe you can ask dad how he feels about this thing? You know, before I tell him.. I wanna be sure he won't get upset."

Katara released a soft hum as she looked out of the window in Kya's room. The clear starry sky and the moonlight reflecting from the waves of Yue Bay provided them with all the light they needed. She saw how a familiar sky bison silhouette approached the island.

"Alright, I'll ask him. I'll let you know how he feels."

Kya snuggled her head against her mother's chest.

"Thanks, mom."

Katara kept her promise well. The next morning, she and Aang were washing the dishes after breakfast was finished.

"Sweetie, do you know what's up with Kya? She seemed a bit on edge at the table," Aang wondered out loud, putting a few plates away in their specific cupboard while Katara dried the other ones near the sink. Kya had avoided her father's gaze throughout breakfast, even Tenzin had asked her if something's wrong. She'd blurted out an angry 'NO!' and apologized to him.

"Yes, I do. But you're going to have to ask her yourself. She didn't want me to tell you."

"She's not in trouble, is she? Or is she mad at me?"

"No-no, it's nothing like that. She's fine. I believe that she'll tell you what's up when she's ready."

"Okay, then," Aang chuckled and gave Katara a kiss on the cheek.

"Speaking of which, I wanna ask you something, too."

"Go ahead," the airbender grabbed the final two plates and walked towards the cabinet to put them away.

"I was reading through some new scrolls I got from the hospital. It contained a lot of information about different sexual orientations. And it made me wonder, how do you feel about it?" Katara wiped her hands in the towel and curled a lock of her hair around her finger, trying to hide her nervousness. She hoped she'd lied well enough for Aang to not put the pieces of the puzzle together.

"Wow! That's an interesting topic. I'm surprised they even have scrolls that write about these kinds of things."

"Yeah, me too.. So, what do you think?" Katara asked again, feeling grateful that she'd managed to approach the matter this way. He didn't seem to suspect a thing.

"Well, personally, I have nothing against it. Love comes in many forms and that's what makes it beautiful. I mean, just look at us. An air nomad and a member of the water tribe. People from two different nations who are in love," Aang stepped in front of Katara and gently grabbed her arms. She smiled back at him.

"Why, even in the air temples nobody hid who they loved. The air nomads have always been accepting of differences and we embrace everyone, no matter their orientation."

Katara put the towel on the edge of the sink in the blink of an eye and tugged at Aang's hand, dragging him along with her.

"Come."

"Where are we-"

"Just come with me, sweetie," she said and continued walking, bringing them both to Kya's room. The young waterbender was busy reading a book when they reached the doorway. She looked up at her parents.

"Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?" she sat up on the edge of her bed, watching how her mother pulled her father inside.

"Aang, there's something Kya wants to talk to you about."

"Mom, did you ask him?"

"Ask me what? What's going on?" the poor airbender looked at both his wife and daughter, completely lost. Kya patted the empty side of her bed.

"You might wanna sit down for this, dad. I have something very important to tell you."

Aang took a seat beside her and simply stared at her with his grey eyes full of concern and confusion. Katara sat down on her knees in front of Kya. She grabbed her daughter's hand and gave her a reassuring nod.

"Dad, mom and I talked about this yesterday. She caught me coming home late at night again. Before you ask, I haven't done anything wrong! I was just hanging out with a friend of mine. But the thing is, she's not just any friend. She's more than that. And she's made me realize that maybe.. I kind of might be.. bisexual."

Aang remained silent for a few seconds before it hit him.

"Ooohh, so that's why you were asking me about that," he smirked at Katara, who merely blushed that she'd been caught lying, too.

"Dad, you're not angry either?" Kya tugged at his arm to get his attention. He seemed so cheerful and relaxed around her. The airbender wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Why would I be? Who am I to step between the ways of love? Your mother asked me about it and I'll tell you exactly what I told her. I have absolutely nothing against it. Us air nomads have always been accepting of differences. We've never felt any shame to show who we love in the air temples. We embrace everyone, no matter their sexual orientation. It's in our blood. And apparently, it's in your blood, too," Aang pointed a finger to Kya's heart. She started crying and hid her face in the palms of her hands.

"Kya? Did I upset you? Did I say something wrong?" he gently removed one of her hands to hold it in his own as well as to get a better look at her face. She hastily rubbed her cerulean eyes and tried to get her breathing back to normal.

"No, dad.. You just made me very happy!" Kya sobbed and tackled Aang with a fierce hug. He held her close, but waved a hand to invite Katara in for a hug, too. She stood up to hug her husband and daughter. It was one of the happiest moments in Kya's life.

#Kataangtag #Kataang #Aang and Kya II #Katara and Kya II #Aang #Katara #Kya II #ATLA and TLOK #my fanfiction #mine #shards of Kristal

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short-stories-written-warmly · 7 years

Text

Remembrance

This story started in a certain room in a, certain house, in a city called Irolesh. A man was reclining on a sofa. His face showed a troubled expression, the lines on his forehead formed a crease as he furrowed his brows and pinched his forehead. These features, along with his graying dark brown hair, painted his age on him.

“Look, I’m telling you that this doesn’t make sense.” The man said.

A haze appeared in the room, enveloping the table in front of the sofa. Bits of it waxed and waned around, moving like waves before it formed a vaguely humanoid shape. Then, it started to talk.

“Oh but it does make sense, you talking to me is all it takes for this to make sense.” Said the humanoid haze.

“No it doesn’t. This is a prank isn’t it? There’s a speaker and some sort of smoke generator hidden in my house isn’t there? Is this your doing Jacobs?”

“Please, do take off your tinfoil hat. Paranoia is unbecoming of a detective.”

“I think it’s more unbecoming to believe that I’m talking to a ghost.”

“And yet here you are, conversing with one.”

“Alright, I’ll level with you. Say that I’m actually talking to a ghost right now, and I’m not just drunk as all hell. How can you prove it?”

“Oh but the fact that we are conversing is more than enough is it not?”

“For all I can tell, this might just be a delusion that I’m talking to, and if that’s the case, I should really stop drinking tequila.”

“Hmm…fair point. So how do you want me to prove this to you?”

“Uhh…do ghost things.”

“Ghost…things?”

“Yeah, ghost things. Like, make one of the plates in my kitchen fly off the shelf or something.”

“How very quaint of you. Very well, I will give it a try.”

The haze dissipated, clearing the room. In a short few moments, the sound of a shattering plate can be heard from the kitchen. Shocked, the man got up from the sofa and rushed to the kitchen. There, he saw several plates floating in the air, and another one shattered on the floor. The haze was there, again in a vaguely humanoid shape, holding up the plates with its haze like appendages.

“There’s your proof my good man.” Said the haze as it put the plates back on the shelf.

“Well, I’ll be.”

“I suppose that’s enough proof for you then-where are you going?”

The hazy figure turned its head towards the man, catching him near the front door. The man stopped dead in his tracks, his hand was clutching the doorknob. He turned his head to look at the haze with a calm look on his face.

“To get the priest to exorcise you obviously.”

“Now that is just rude of you. After asking me to provide proof as well.”

“Well I’m not going to suffer a life with a ghost in my own home. So I’m going to have you exorcised.”

“Then you can be off on your merry way to the church.”

“I’m glad you understand-“

“But who knows what might happen to this house while you are away. Why, a gas valve could just leak and the whole place would catch on fire.”

“You’re joking-“

“Or maybe the phone would mysteriously leave voice messages for your ex-wife, pleading for her to return because you miss her and your kids so much.”

Drooping his shoulders, the man accepted his defeat and let go of the doorknob with a heavy sigh. He walked closer to the haze to have a proper conversation with it.

“Alright. Fine. I won’t have you exorcised.”

“Good choice. I want to move on from this world, but I don’t want to have it be forced upon me.”

“Guess I’ll be living with a-wait you want to move on?”

“Of course. It is the desire of any curious spirit to move on peacefully is it not?”

“I’m not a ghost yet so I wouldn’t know.”

“You’ll know in a few years.”

“What?”

“What.”

“Never mind. So if you want to move on, why aren’t you…you know, moving on?”

“I would very much like to, but as it is, a spirit needs to be at peace with itself to move on. My past regrets have made it quite hard for me to be at peace.”

“So if you can get rid of those regrets, then you’ll be able to move on?”

“Yes. That’s how it works.”

“So…go get rid of those regrets?”

“For a detective you are quite the simple man are you not? Sadly, I am not able to do so, as the…nature of what it is that I regret is quite unique.”

“Hmm…alright then. I’ll cut you a deal. I’ll help you deal with your regrets so you can move on. Then I can live peacefully again, and you can relax in whatever place that ghosts go to relax.”

“You would help me? That is very generous of you. Then, I accept.”

“Alright, we’re now partners in crime. So what is it that you regret so much?”

“I suppose I can tell you now. My regret…is not being famous enough.”

“What.”

“Yes it is true. I fear that I am simply not well known enough among society, and it deeply hurts me. If I am to let go of this regret, then I must simply become more famous. I will not be satisfied before I know there are people out there who will never forget me.”

“I…how do I even go about that?”

“And now you see why it is so hard for me to move on.”

“Can’t you just go haunt some people and become famous like that?”

“I’m sorry to say, but ghosts can only interact with the homes that they are bound to, along with its residents of course. Hence why you are able to converse with me.”

“Well now that’s just not fair, how am I supposed to solve this then?”

“Perchance you could try to find the people that I used to know and ask them about myself?”

“Oh right, you used to be alive.”

“That’s quite rude of you. In any case, I am-was a man named Charles Watson. Maybe you will be able to find my acquaintances.”

“Alright. I’ll see what I can do. Oh, and my name is Jack Denver. Here’s to a fruitful partnership Charles.” Said Jack as he extended a hand to the hazy figure of Charles.

“Same to you Mr. Denver, same to you.” Said Charles as he shook Jack’s hand with his own hazy hand.

They set out to work, searching for Charles’ old acquaintances. As a detective, it was fairly easy for Jack to obtain the records to a certain Charles Watson, former denizen of his house. He was able to use it to track down several of Charles’ colleagues, university friends, and old neighbors, and after several exhausting weeks he had met them all. Unfortunately for him, all of them had similar things to say about Charles.

“’He was an okay guy, didn’t stand out much.’ Is what they all said!” Jack said while throwing down several written documents onto his kitchen table.

“Oh dear, I fear it is true then.”

“You sir, are a completely average man, who socialized on a decent basis with others but did not leave a big enough impression on them. You were also a typical accountant working at just one of the many firms downtown, and not only that, you also passed away completely normally due to an allergic reaction to peanut butter!”

“…” Charles’ hazy figure looked down while clenching his fists.

“Not one of your acquaintances have a fond memory of you, or even a bad one. You’re rather forgettable to them. I mean seriously, you wanted to be famous and well known? Were you even trying?”

“…”

“If you had tried harder then maybe this wouldn’t be so hard. I mean, where do you even get off regretting not being famous when you weren’t even trying? Now I’m stuck with you for the rest of my life too.”

“YOU THINK I DIDN’T TRY?!” Charles shouted. The haze forming his face condensed, manifesting a vivid face of a youthful man with blonde hair and light brown eyes, with an expression that seemed to scream out all of his resentments.

“YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE OLD MAN! I WANTED TO BECOME A FAMOUS ARTIST! TO HAVE MY NAME HANGED BELOW MY DRAWINGS AS THEY DECORATED WALLS AROUND THE WORLD! EVERYONE PRAISED MY DRAWINGS WHEN I WAS LITTLE! I FELT GOOD ABOUT MYSELF, I WAS CONFIDENT! BUT THEN YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED?”

“What-“

“NOTHING HAPPENED! I FOUND OUT I WASN’T A TALENTED ARTIST OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT! WHEN I GOT TO UNIVERSITY, EVERYONE AROUND ME DREW BETTER THAN I DID! THEY HAD TALENT! I WASN’T SOME GENIUS! I WAS THE BEST OF THE WORST! THE LESSER OF SEVERAL OTHER EVILS! I ONLY LOOKED GREAT IN COMPARISON, NOT TRULY GREAT! I HAD NO TALENT!”

“…”

“SEEING EVERYONE ELSE DRAWING SO GREATLY, I LOST CONFIDENCE IN MYSELF! THE TEACHERS WOULD JUST CALL ME AVERAGE AT BEST! MY CLASSMATES WOULD LOOK AT ME WITH DISDAIN! MY DRAWINGS DIDN’T MAKE THE TEACHERS HAPPY! THEY DIDN’T MAKE MY CLASSMATES HAPPY! THEY DIDN’T MAKE ME HAPPY! THEY DIDN’T MAKE ANYONE HAPPY! I DROPPED OUT OF THE ART PROGRAM AND WENT INTO ACCOUNTING! DO YOU KNOW HOW IT FEELS TO HAVE TO DO THAT MR. DENVER? IT BROKE MY HEART INTO THOUSANDS OF TINY PIECES. MY PARENTS PROBABLY HATED ME FOR IT! THEN I WAS STUCK WITH A DEAD END ACCOUNTANT JOB. IT’S A JOKE. MY WHOLE LIFE WAS A JOKE. I EVEN DIED AS A JOKE.”

“…”

Charles’ voice began to wind down and soften.

“It’s all a joke…my whole life was a joke. I lost the spring in my step when I dropped out, and nothing else seemed to matter. I was...I wasn’t living after that. I was surviving. Deep down, I still wanted to be a famous artist, but I knew it was too late, and I knew it was impossible. No one cared for my drawings.”

Charles sat down on the floor and hugged his knees, as if closing himself to the world.

“I get it Mr. Denver. It’s impossible for me to move on naturally. I give up. I am not going to burden you anymore, you can just...” Charles choked on the words, as if trying to gulp something.

“You can just call a priest and get it over with.”

Jack let out a sigh and he sat down next to Charles.

“Look, I’m sorry. I guess what I said was uncalled for. You had a rough life, and it beat you down. It’s not easy being out in the world.”

“It was…hard to say the least.”

“It is isn’t it? But let me tell you a little secret. These reports? Well, I still have one last report left for you. I saved it for last because it was different.”

“Different?”

“Let me set it up for you.”

Jack took a laptop out of his bag and set it down on the table. He opened the video player and it showed a paused clip of a drawing hanging on a wall. It was a drawing of an old cartoon character. Charles looked at the screen and his eyes widened.

“That’s…”

“Yep. It’s yours.”

“But how? Who?”

Jack pushed the play button and the video started. An old woman walked into the point of view of the camera. She walked slowly towards the drawing on the wall and gestured towards it.

“Charles drew that for me when he was about to go to university. He said not to worry about him because he was going to become a great artist in the city.”

“Mom…”

“Oh he always had a way with the pencil. This was his favorite character from an old cartoon. Err, what was it called again?”

“It’s Bob & Kerry, dear.” Said an old man as he walked into view.

“Dad…”

“Ah right, that’s the one. I’ve always loved this drawing of his. It’s like he personally made it for us haha. Anyway, Mr. Denver, is it okay if we show you around the house? It’s been such a long time since someone asked about Charlie, and you even had to go through the trouble of contacting us through this Skype program.”

“Thank the lord that son of mine set it up before he’d left. He said he would use it to contact us, but he never really did.”

“Oh I don’t mind ma’am. You can just take the laptop around the house and point the camera wherever.”

The video then showed a tour of the old couple’s house. In each room, there was always one drawing decorating it. All of them had a small plaque below them saying “Charles Watson.”

Then the camera came into a room that looked it had been vacant for a long time. The room was clean and everything inside of it was neatly organized. The walls of the room were covered by various drawings. Some were sketches. Some were paintings. All of them, had the same plaque below.

“Charles Watson.”

“Thank you for the tour Mr. and Mrs. Watson. It’s been a pleasure talking to you.”

“Oh no, thank you Mr. Denver. It’s been such a long time since we had a visitor asking for Charlie. Especially after he…passed on.” The old woman said softly, holding back her grief.

“If anything, you’re helping us to cope, and we sincerely appreciate it. We hope you’ll contact us again.” Said the old man as he shut down the camera, ending the video.

“See Charles? You did fulfill your dream. A lot of your drawings were on walls there, and they even had plaques with your name on them too.”

Charles looked down on the table, his hands were holding the table’s edges. His face was a chaotic mixture of emotions. He wanted to cry, and yet he was also happy, but most of all, he was relieved. Relieved, that his parents did not hate him for dropping out and taking another program. Relieved that there was someone who appreciated him. Relieved that there was someone who still thought of him.

“Mr. Denver?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. Thank you for showing me that not everyone’s forgotten about me.”

“Haha, well you can count on me not forgetting you anytime soon.”

“I would appreciate that very much. I…I think I’m ready to move on now.” Charles said, choking a bit.

“Yeah, keep safe, you hear.”

“I will Mr. Denver, thank you for everything. Until we meet again.” He said with a bright smile.

And with that, Charles’ hazy figure slowly dissipated, and in just a few moments, he was gone.

“Heh, you’re welcome.” Said Jack, bemused.

Jack walked out of the kitchen and into his living room. There, he walked towards the phone and dialed a familiar number.

“Well the kid tried his best, I should probably do too.”

The phone beeped for a few moments before a voice familiar to Jack answered.

“Hello? Diane? It’s me, Jack. It’s been a while yeah? Not since we met at court no. You want to get lunch together? You can bring the kids too.”

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 7 years

Text

Unadulterated Crack part 2

pairings: Thorin x reader

warnings: None?

word count: 6,000+

Author’s note: uhh, I wrote this around thanksgiving and christmas so you’re gonna have to deal with holiday feels in May. Also I made the quest start in fall so yeah.

--- Part 1 --- Part 2 --- Part 3 --- Part 4 --- Part 5 --- Part 6 --- Part 7 --- Part 8 --- Part 9— Part 10 — Part 11— Part 12 — Part 13 —Part 14 — Part 15— Part 16— Part 17 --- Part 18 --- Part 19 --- Part 20 --- Part 21 ---

After insisting they get an extra pony for Bilbo, everyone had a pony, and their supplies were on their horses, despite you assuring them they wouldn't need half of them with you there, you set off. When the dwarves were making their bets about whether Bilbo would show or not, you said, "I bet you that he shows up. I also bet you he quickly realized he forgot his handkerchief and insists we turn back to get it."

Kili said, "I bet you he remembers it! He's practically attached at the hip to that thing."

When Bilbo showed up, you turned to Thorin and quirked an eyebrow at him as he said, "Give him a pony." After Bilbo was on said pony, and everyone tossed around the betting gold, Bilbo did indeed realize he forgot his handkerchief and demanded everyone stop. You looked at Kili, held out your hand, and said, "Pony up bitch."

Kili smirked at you, and handed you a single coin, you glared at him. Before you could growl at him, he said, "You need to be specific with what you want before agreeing to something. Otherwise people will take advantage of you." then looked like he was bracing himself for a scolding. But instead, you simply threw back your head and laughed, "Right you are! You are very clever Kili, and you presented it with wit, and tact might I add. You've got spunk kid, and I love spunk. Here have this as a reward." putting the coin he gave you in the bag with the coins Dwalin and Nori gave you, and tossed it to him.

Fili cried, "Hey! Why does he get free money he didn't earn?"

You smirked at him and chuckled, "Oh he earned it, I was not expecting that at all. If you remember what I said before, your world provides me very little mental stimulation. So I'll take it where I can get it, and reward them for it. Plus because I wanted to give it to him, and it was mine to give. If you were smart, you would have kept your mouth shut and tested to see if I'd give more out in return for making me laugh, or enjoy something."

Kili piped up, "Yeah, what she said." as his older brother pouted.

You turned to Bilbo and said, "Here Bilbo have one of mine, I have plenty." reaching into your bag, pulling out one of soft squares of fabric, and handing it to him. Soon as the fabric touched the skin of his hand, he jerked it away like it electrocuted him. He cried, "I can't take a silk handkerchief from you!"

"It's fine Bilbo, I have like twenty of them, take it I insist. Plus it's not even one of my good ones, so chill bro." you sighed.

He reluctantly took it, and muttered his thanks. You felt anger and jealousy flare up in Thorin's mind, although out this exchange. But he didn't act on it, he kept his mouth shut, and didn't even look at you. You smiled at Bilbo, and excused yourself to go tend to Thorin and his jumbled emotions. When you and Wilhelm trotted up to Thorin and Minty, you asked, "A penny for your thoughts?" Thorin threw a confused sideways glance, that feigned disinterest, at you. You smiled, and clarified, "I want your opinion on something."

He huffed, "What is it?"

"Well today, in my culture, is a holiday known as Thanksgiving. Usually we have somewhat of a feast at dinner. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind letting everyone stop come night fall to partake in it. I know you guys don't celebrate it, but I have never spent a Thanksgiving away from my family before. I would feel a little sad spending it alone. I'd provide the food, and drink. I'd just would like to spend it with good company." You explained.

Thorin paused, before asking, "What does this 'Thanksgiving' celebrate?"

"It means different things to different people, but to me it celebrates people from different cultures working and living together, the fall harvest, and most of all giving thanks for what you have." You replied. (a/n: this is what I like to think it’s about)

Thorin muttered, "What type of food will there be?"

"A roast turkey, sweet dinner rolls, cranberry sauce, yams with marshmallow, spiced-and-candied-carrots, mashed potatoes with turkey gravy, stuffing, deviled eggs, apple cider, mead, ale, coffee, and most of all pumpkin pie with whipped cream. Not to mention that there will be cheese trays, and relish trays to snack on before dinner." You answered, and added, "I've never been away from my family for so long, I guess I'm just a little homesick. Plus it'll give you an inside view of my culture. Not to mention there will be entertainment before and after dinner, either sports or movies."

Thorin was apprehensive about letting everyone stop and partake in your holiday. Not because it wasn't from his culture, he really wanted to do this for you. If it would make you happy, he'd do just about anything. He was worried about the other's letting down their guard and getting attacked by orcs. You smiled and said, "By the look on your face I can tell something is bothering you about it. How about when we stop at lunch I show you the place I wish to have this meal." Thorin shot you a confused glance. You chuckled, "Remember I have the ability to pull things from my world to this one. That includes structures, Thorin, I know festivities tend to be noisy, and people let their guards down. But I assure you, the structure I have in mind is more fortified then you can fathom and is more than secure."

Thorin nodded, and said, "If I approve of it, then yes if the others want to partake in it, I will allow them to."

At lunch time everyone stopped at a clearing, and dismounted from their horses. Thorin came up to you and said, "I want the others to see it as well to see if they feel safe in it as well." You nodded your head and manifested the house. It was a large modern concrete house with large foot thick windows of blast-and-shatter-proof glass. The only entry point on the outside were a couple of three ton steel door, with no physical key to open it, just an electronic code. Thorin announced what was going to happen and asked Gandalf to watched the horses. You said, "That is not necessary, there are stables around the back, they will be fine there. They will have plenty of hay, and water as well." leading Wilhelm and everyone else to the stable door. The stables were just as fortified as the house, with high windows of the same glass, and three feet thick concrete walls as the exterior structure. Inside there was one stall for each horse and pony, each stall has an automatic refilling water trough, and a trough of wheat, barley, oats, and hay, and had a large pile of hay on the ground if the horses felt inclined to lay down.

Once the horses were in the stables, you showed them the house. Inside the decor was in a post-modern style, and was white, various shades of gray, black, and one color of the rainbow in each room. The living room was large and furnished enough that everyone had a couch or chair to sit on. None of the furniture was white, they'd be on the road so they were bound to track in dirt. The few things that were white where coated in a hydrophobic spray, as were all of the lavender accents in the room. You said, "Each of you have your own bed rooms as well. I tried to make them to suit your personalities as best I could, if something displeases you about them just tell me what you want and I will endeavor to get it right."

Dwalin muttered, "This place is nice and all lass, but those big windows will break real easily if we get attacked."

You smiled and snickered, "No, those windows are just as, if not more secure than the three feet thick stone walls. They are meant to withstand explosions, they are a foot thick, and are shatter-proof. They also have an anti-scratch coating. Take a swing at them with anything you like. If that doesn't make you feel safe, then you should know that if anything taller than four feet comes in a hundred foot radius of the house, eleven inch steel plates will cover all of the windows in about three seconds. We will still be able to leave even then, there is a tunnel in the stable that is about a mile long that goes what ever direction we will need to go to get to Erebor that we can take our horses through." You turned away from him and continued, "Now, so that the house would not go too high above the tree line there are only four stories above ground. So some of your rooms are below ground, I hope that won't be a problem." Only to be interrupted by a loud bang of metal on glass. You ignored it, as Bilbo said, "Whelp, this is good enough for me."

You turned to him and said, "You and Gandalf can sit in here, watch tv, and help yourselves to the trays of food that I just put out, if you want. Gandalf knows how to work the TV." Bilbo explained he wanted to finish the tour, then you turned to the dwarves and added, "Would you like to see the kitchen?” Bombur nodded his head eagerly, and the others just grumbled.

The Kitchen was mainly white, and yellow, with a couple of black and gray accents. The theme of the room was bees. It was state of the art, and fully stocked, complete with a walk in freezer and pantry. It had four ovens, two extra large ones, and two regular. It also had an extra large stove, that had six burners, plenty of counter space, and a large sink. You knew that your company might have a hard time reaching top shelves and what not, so you had a rolling ladder attached to a track on the top of the cabinets, that could be moved to form a false wall of a shelving unit at the end of each counter. Each ladder had a harness type rope attached to prevent anyone from falling. You explained all of this to the dwarves, and said, "I knew Bombur loved cooking, so I designed it with him in mind, also there are plenty of spices, and ingredients to make tasty snacks and elaborate meals." You showed them the dinning room and it's apple red accents, with a long ebony table currently set up for the Thanksgiving dinner. Then you showed them the pine green den, and the admiral blue library, and the blood red training room, and the bathroom and the laundry room. After that you sighed, "Now for the bed rooms, now I basically grouped you together by siblings or family. Each group has a floor to themselves, complete with a bathroom, and a sitting room connected to each of your rooms. First we'll start with the Bilbo, since he and Gandalf share a floor. It's upstairs."

Bofur groaned, "Ugh stairs."

You laughed, "No stairs, just an elevator, come I'll show you all how to work it. I'll just drop you all off at your floors. You'll figure out whose room is whose since the rooms all have signs. I also included extra rooms, like I have a studio to draw in attached to it. Usually these rooms are rooms that I think you'll like based off information I know about you, or things I have observed. If there is a blank or empty room it means I don't really have enough information about you to fill it. If you don't like it or anything about your accommodations just come find me." Then you explained how to work the elevator, which was an industrial one so it could hold all of you with ease. You had the floor buttons labels with who was on that floor.

When you dropped Thorin and his nephews off at their floor, he looked around at the sitting room in wonder. It was cozy, and roomy. The room had a four black leather couches with many small green, gray, and white throw pillows. They sat around a short silver and black glass table that had a clear glass vase with black, white, and silver flowers. Which sat on a massive gray pelt laid across the ebony wood floors. There was a chandler of black metal handing from the ceiling. The walls were decorated with pictures and sculptures of various deer. Thorin felt so alien in this place, but not in a bad way. His nephews explored the room and played with any moving sculptures in the room. There was one hallway at the north side of the room, and there were three doors visible from where Thorin stood. Fili past by one of the doors and exclaimed, "Kili this one has your name on it!"

Kili trotted over and opened the door, and peered in. Thorin and Fili followed him in. The room was painted a rich crimson, with a white four post bed and two nightstands with lamps along one of the walls, a black desk on the other, and a chest of drawers that was coated in mirrors. The room had a many decorations of wolves, and geodes filled with red, white, black, and gray crystals. There were two other doors in the room, Kili went to one and Fili to the other to investigate what was in them. Fili opened his door, and announced it was a closet. Kili opened his and told them it was a rather large and spacious bathroom with a bathtub, three sinks, and a toilet, and two other doors. He also said Thorin's room on the other side of the west wall that his bed was against, and Fili's was against the wall with his closet.

Fili and Thorin were interest in finding their rooms Thorin headed to his, and found it to be a bold and royal blue, with a gold and black four post bed with blue curtains, black, and blue covers and pillows. The bed and two black night stands sat on another massive pelt, however this one was black on white wood floors. There was a couch facing the large windows in one corner of the room next to a gold and blue stone side table with many crystal bottles of amber liquid and matching cups. There was what he assumed to be a closet behind it. Against one of the walls was a simple desk of ebony, and in the far left corner sat a large Celtic harp. Thorin's feet carried him over to it, where he noticed a note sticking out of the mouth of the dragon carved into the rich wood. Thorin took it up in his hand, it read, "I vaguely remember something about you playing the harp. So you can keep in practice, I will let you use the one that has been passed down in my family for the last eight hundred years. But only if you promise to play for me one day! (Y/F/N) (Y/M/I) (Y/L/N)" Thorin examined the harp, it was large, and had many strings. He did in fact play the harp, but how in the world could you have known that? He felt grateful to you for lending him a harp, and a family heirloom of your's at that, he had missed playing since he left on the quest. He reached out and plucked a string, and it hummed and shimmied in response to his gentle touch. He noticed that there was a matching chair that had ravens carved into the stool's support post. The pair looked like a set, how fitting and poetic, the musician sitting on the shoulders of ravens taming the dragon harp. Thorin felt flattered that you had thought of him in such a way and trusted him enough with something so valuable. You sat in the living room with Gandalf, Oin, Gloin, Balin, and Dwalin, when Bilbo and the line of Durin came into the living room. Kili, Fili and Bilbo started to chatter at you all at once, but you understood the gist of it. They liked the rooms you designed for them. You said, "Um guys, I'm glad you like them, but they will change a bit along with the house based off how I'm feeling. So don't get too used to it being just the way it is now, because I may subconsciously change or improve it. The layout and style of the house may totally change as well."

Suddenly Dori tore into the room and snarled, "What did you do!" while charging at you like a deranged bull.

You leaned back, and said, "What are you talking about, I didn't do anything I've been here the whole time!"

Dori snapped, "Ori started sobbing when he went in his room and has locked the door and won't let me or Nori in to comfort him! And Nori can't figure out how to pick that infernal lock."

You frowned and said, "I don't know what I did to make him cry, but I'd like to go down and see if I can fix what ever it is that is upsetting him."

Dori sneered, "You better go do that, now."

You knocked on Ori's door and called out, "Ori, dear, is everything alright?"

Ori sobbed, "Everything is just fine!"

"Then why are you crying sweetheart?" You asked. Ori just wailed like a banshee in response, you asked, "Ori, will you open the door?"

Ori protests, "No, it's my room and I don't want to share it with anyone!" You retorted, "it's my house Ori, open the door please. If you do not I will unlock it from the outside."

Ori was silent for a minute, then you heard a scuffling, and the door unlock. You open the door to see a bashful, teary eyed Ori standing there looking lost. You softly ask, "What was wrong with the room Ori?"

"That's the thing, it's perfect, I've always dreamt of a room like this one." Ori sniffled, walking over to you, and wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you tightly. He whispered, "Thank you so much!"

You all managed to coax the young dwarf from his book lair, although a more apt description is you had dragged him out of it. In the living room everyone ate lots of food, from the relish tray and the cheese and cracker tray. As you set off after lunch, you went to Thorin and said, "Well is my humble abode acceptable to you, oh might leader?" smugly.

Thorin blushed at the thought of your kind gesture, and mumbled, "Yes it is."

You smirked and said, "I'll go explain my holiday to the boys and see if they want to participate."

The rest of the company was eager for night to come, since all of them agreed to amuse your holiday wish. Dwalin especially wanted your home made pies, which were currently chilling in the refrigerator. When the sun set, and Thorin announced that you'd be stopping for the night, everyone buzzed eagerly, and chatted happily away about what food from your world would be like.

You set them up with a movie and something to drink before retreating to the kitchen, where you scurried around the room putting the finishing touches on your dishes. Bombur who had gotten curious peeked into the kitchen. You caught site of him out of the corner of your eye, you chuckled, "You can come in here if you promise to stay out of my way, and not to eat too much, and to help when I ask." Bombur quickly hurried into the kitchen, you asked him to put the bread rolls in the oven as you put marshmallow on the mashed yams to be light roasted with a creme brulee torch. By the time you had almost all of the dinner on the table it was about six thirty. You and Bombur looked at each other and smiled. You had him go get everyone one else while you got the hard apple cider out of the cooler. You arrived just in time to see everyone's faces when they saw your meal. Dwalin muttered, "How are ye not married yet lass?" They left you the seat at the head of the table for you to sit, with Gandalf and Thorin flanking you. You muttered, "I'll be right back." and headed into the kitchen to get the turkey. As you brought it in the others kind of gasped at the site of the large bird, as you put it on the table, you sighed, "Usually the head of the house carves the turkey, but would one of you like to cut it? I've never done, so I'll probably butcher it."

Thorin quickly announced, "I'll do it." you nodded and handed him the carving knife. As Thorin sliced the turkey and put it on the serving plater, Dwalin said, "Lass, where did ye even catch a bird tha' big?"

You frowned and shrugged, "This one is from a farm. Most of my people usually don't eat wild game, I personally haven't."

Ori gasped, "You've only ever had meat from farm animals!"

You nodded in respond, and added, "Or eaten anything that was foraged from the wilds. Just stuff that was grown on a farm, or in my yard that I planted."

Bofur said, "Ah, so you have done a hard day's work then, I was starting to think you were some spoiled princess." You just shrugged in reply.

Thorin had piled the plate high with thick slices of turkey, you realized that he had gone for the dark meat only. You politely, asked him if he'd cut a slice or two of white meat for you. He obliged, as Dori said, "At least someone will eat that dry stuff."

"I'm not used to eating dark meat, plus if I eat too much of it at any one time I get sick, since because I wasn't really raised eating dark meat. And because of that I also don't like eating it anyhow, to me it has a slimy and stringy texture. There also isn't much nutritional value to dark meat since very little energy is stored there because of the type of muscle it is." you reply.

After loading their plates with food everyone dug in. After Dwalin's first bite, he pointed his fork at Thorin and in Khuzdul he said, "You better have a courting braid in her hair by the end of the week or I will." completely and utterly serious. Thorin shot him a dirty look and hissed, "You wouldn't dare, joking about it like before was borderline unacceptable, but flat out threatening to steal another Dwarrow's one is completely over the line."

Balin who sat across from his brother, whispered, "Lad, I don't think he means it. I think he's just trying to get the point, that she is a woman to be desired, across to you."

Thorin eyed his advisor, who was looking at him like he was the idiot with mashed potatoes in his beard. Bilbo took one look at Dwalin's beard and said, "Um Dwalin you've got a bit of food in your beard."

You looked up from your plate and chuckled, "Bilbo, he's just saving it for winter." and returned to eating your meal like you hadn't said anything at all. The Dwarves stopped to see how Dwalin would react to your comment, due to the fact that other races making remarks about someone's beard was kind of a touchy subject. After a long pause Dwalin asked, "Lass, don't you care that I have food in my beard."

You stopped eating, looked him straight in the eye, and said, " As long as you have it out before you hug me, and it doesn't stain anything or I don't have to clean it up later, no I don't. It is a joke my dad used to say about his beard." Dwalin inquired, "So you like beards?"

"My only problem with beards isn't with the beard itself, it's when the person attached to it doesn't take care of it. When they let it become gross, smelly, and oily and is plagued with dandruff. That's my only quarrel, if you won't take care of it, don't fucking have one. Other than that, they're great. They're like nature's scarf."

With that Dwalin burst out laughing, the other dwarves followed. Once they stopped, Bilbo asked, "do you ever wish you had one?"

"Yes and no. Yes because why the hell not, and plus it'd be blue and I could do things with it, and I could stroke it while thinking for theatric effect. But no, because I'd be afraid of getting it caught in stuff, and because of the extra work I'd have to put into it to make it look and feel good, and because I already find my hair all over the place I don't need more of that." you said.

Balin assured, "Trust me lass, it doesn't get caught in stuff."

"I don't believe you." You grumbled, and started to eat again.

As you felt everyone wrapping up eating you asked, "Are we ready for pie now, or do we want to wait an hour or so?" You asked everyone.

Some groaned something along the lines of, "Oh Mahal, no more please." or "Oh no, not pie too!" and others voiced their eagerness for pie. You got a head count of how many of them wanted pie and told them you'd bring them their pie after you made the whipped cream. Eight other people wanted pie, one of which you knew felt he didn't have room for it since he'd forgotten that there'd be pie. As the others put away the leftovers, you made the softest whipped cream, and served eight slices of pie on small plates, and added a generous helping of whipped cream on the tops of each one. You brought them their slices, three at a time. During the first trip, Thorin promptly volunteered to help you. You thanked him and told him you could handle serving pie, but he insisted, claiming that you had made them a delicious dinner, and that you deserved to rest. You were tired and your feet hurt so you did not fight him on it, and allowed him to help you.

A/N: I’m not sorry for this

okay im done back to the story...

Once all of the pie was served, you sat down with your own pie between Dwalin and Thorin, and realized no one had started to eat their pie. You asked them what they were waiting for, and Gloin said, "You don't start eating until your host does and everyone is served."

"oh right that's a thing, well for future reference, I don't really care about that, it's just pointless formalities. There is no need to for that with me, it's bullshit in my opinion. It's a thing in my culture too, but I honestly don't care. It's basically a control and dominance behavior, and I don't see myself as being better then anyone. Usually if I give you food I want to see your reactions to it before enjoying my own piece." you sighed.

They all awkwardly listened to you, and took a bite. Thorin immediately felt Dwalin's eyes drilling into the side of his head. Oin hummed, "What fruit is this made out of?"

"It's made out of primarily squash, but there are also spices, condensed milk, and eggs." you replied.

You heard the room go silent, you looked around and said, "It was good wasn't it?"

"Well yes, but it is well known that Dwarves hate squash." Gandalf said, as he scooped up another piece of pie

. You grumbled, "Well if they don't want to eat my delicious pie, fine, more for me." and continued eating.

You pulled up Netflix, and put on a movie for them to watch, until bed time. Half of the Dwarves had eaten pie by the time they went off to bed.

On the morning of December first Thorin woke up in his room to a faint light when it should have been dark out still. He rolled over and growled, "Which ever one of you trouble makers is in here get out now." When he got no response and the light didn't go away, he sat up and looked at it's source. In the corner of his room sat a beautiful tree covered in many different ornaments, sparkly strings, and colored lights. Thorin slipped out of bed and went up to it, and touched a branch. The whole tree gave off a strong pine scent, that was starting to fill the room, its starred top tickled the ceiling which had to be at least ten feet high. Thorin looked around the room to try and figure out who did it, when he noticed there were other changes to his room. There was now garlands of pine branches draping from his bed, and paper snowflake garlands dangling above the window. The room, now, also smelt of cinnamon, orange, and anise. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted an odd wooden soldier next to the tree, and many other things he didn't know the purpose of. He wandered out to the sitting room, and saw that there was another tree sitting in the far corner of the room, only this one was decorated in green, blue, red, and gold ornaments and it glittered in every color imaginable. Thorin couldn't really believe his eyes, he rubbed them to make sure his vision wasn't blurry, and even pinched himself to make sure that he wasn't dreaming. He sat down on the couch and stared at it, forgetting he wasn't wearing a shirt. His nephew Fili, walked in as the sun started to rise, to find his uncle sitting there barefoot, half naked, scratching his hairy chest, and staring at a glowing tree.

Fili called out, "Uncle...Uncle...Uncle Thorin!" trying to get Thorin's attention. When he did, he said, "We need to get Kili up for morning training."

Thorin paused, he decided he didn't really want to do anything other than stare at the strange tree, before murmuring, "Let him sleep in, we've all been rather tired lately, you can go back to bed as well if you'd like." and turned his attention back to the tree.

Fili shook his head, and asked, "Who are you and what have you done with my uncle?"

Thorin did not reply, so Fili just walked back to his room and went back to bed.

When you got up to make breakfast, cranberry and pumpkin crepes, you found that Thorin had wandered down to the living room in just his pants, and was staring at the large tree in the corner. You said, "I take it your world doesn't celebrate Christmas?"

Thorin nearly jumped out of his skin, he slowly turned to you and asked, "What is it?"

"It's a Christmas tree Thorin." you replied, "it's just one of the decorations that I'll be putting around the house this month. Granted it's the biggest one I'll be putting in, just about every room has got one. I may also change the style and layout of the house a few times as well."

"Christmas, what is it?"

"It's our winter solstice celebration, there will be another feast at the end of this month as well, and there will be presents." You explained, as you walked over to the fire place and examined the stockings you created for all of them.

Thorin's eyes drifted from you to the fabric in your hand, his eyes widened, it had his name embroidered into it. He walked over to you, and said, "And this?" "It's a Christmas Stocking, small presents are put in here on Christmas Eve, and large presents go under the tree if you were children. But since we are all adults they'll appear there whenever I think of them." You sighed, "Now I really need to start on breakfast, you can keep asking me questions about Christmas if you help me." Thorin nodded and followed you into the kitchen.

As Thorin got the jams, and fruit out of the fridge you made the batter for the crepes. Thorin asked, "So why do you put the presents under the tree only on Christmas eve for children?"

"Part of the magic of Christmas is Santa Claus, he is a man who lives in the frigid North pole where he, his wife, and a bunch of elves make toys for all the girls and boys in the world. He rides a sleigh pulled by reindeer on Christmas night to deliver them."

"How is he supposed to get in the house, do people just leave it unlocked or something?"

"No, he lands on the roof, and comes down the chimney, and people leave him a plate of cookies and a glass of milk." "what is that little weird wooden toy by my tree?" "That is a nutcracker. Thorin will you go wake the other's breakfast is almost done." you replied. He nodded his head and left the room. During breakfast Fili realized, "Uncle, the deal you made with (y/n) back at Bag End was that you couldn't bug her for another hint on who she is bound to until the end of the month."

"Yes, and what of it?" Thorin grumbled.

He replied, "Well it's December first, a new month, you can ask her for another hint."

Kili added, "and be specific with what you want this time."

Thorin paused thinking about what he wanted to know, before he looked up at you and asked, "Can I have a hint about his eye color?"

"Fine but in return, I want you to stop smoking in my house when you think I'm not looking." You replied.

Thorin paused and asked, "Then where am I supposed to smoke?"

"Outside like everyone else, I absolutely loath smoking, and it angers me to no end when I wake up to my room smelling like smoke every morning." you growled.

"Fine, but how did you know it was me smoking?"

"Because none of the others come to breakfast reeking of smoke." You grunted.

Dwalin said, "Give us the hint already lassie."

You sighed, and answered, "Blue, his eyes are blue."

Ori said, "That rule just about all of us out."

Kili muttered, "That leaves just Fili, Uncle Thorin, and Dwalin."

You shrugged, "Alright no more questions."

"That wasn't part of the deal lady (y/n), I'm rather interested in seeing who it is." Balin said. You glared at him and growled, "Ask me all the questions you want, me answering them at all was not part of the deal either."

Thorin thought aloud, "Well we could always tie you up and send one of us down the escape tunnel, that's a mile long."

You smirked and said, "it's locked with a pass code. Already thought of that Thorin, one thing you will learn about me is that I am ‘slightly’ paranoid, and smarter than you."

Dwalin mused, "You did say that our lives wouldn't be in danger for another month. We could just go in three different directions for about a mile and a half. While the others hold you here."

You rubbed your temples and said, "All of the doors leading outside are protected with a pass code. Honestly boys, at least challenge me a little bit. Keep in mind that I can hold you hostage here too if I so desire. And on top of that I can also not feed you and keep you stranded in one room. Also I meant that as long as you do not stray from the path set for you by fate, you won't be in danger. If you stray, I know not what will be fall you."

Fili said, "I wouldn't be comfortable with doing any of that anyways." The other's agreed.

You sighed, "Just because I refuse to answer any more questions now, doesn't mean I will at lunch. Just give me some time."

Around lunch Thorin was antsy to find out more about the one you were bound to, but didn't want to be the first one to ask you about it. Kili, bless his soul sensed this and asked, "Will you tell me about their hair? The one you're bound to that is. In return I'll take my shoes off before entering the house" You sighed, "Deal, uh, it's nice looking."

Gandalf scoffed, "You are the queen of unhelpful answers."

Thorin inquired, "What's his beard like? Answer me that and I'll do the dishes for a whole month."

"I will hold you to your word Thorin. His beard is not quite fully what it could be." You answered, while still dodging his question.

Dwalin grumbled, "What weapon does he use? I'll stop stealing the sweets from the pantry."

"I knew it was you, you sneaky little! Deal, I imagine he'd used anything in reach if he had to." you snapped.

Oin exclaimed, "All of you are asking the wrong questions! If you tell us what color his hair is I'll rub your feet for a week!"

You shook your head, and chuckled, "That's sweet, but no deal, I don't like people touching my feet any way."

Bilbo said, "If you tell us a name I'll return your journal, and if you don't I'll read it out loud."

"I don't have a journal, so no deal."

"What sort of weapon does he carry with him as of this moment?"

"You need to offer something of value in return Thorin." you mused.

Thorin's mind flashed to the harp you were lending him, he looked up at you and said, "I'll get back into practising the harp so I can play for you."

He watched your eyes go wide, you broke down and said, "A sword." Dwalin grumbled a curse in Khuzdul, Thorin truly feared you were bound to his nephew. You were far younger than either of them, but Fili was far younger, and could physically keep up with you. Gandalf, who was watching Thorin's grief, and seemed to sense it, so he asked, "If you give us a ten year range of their age, I'll answer all of the questions about this world I can. You have been pestering me with many after all."

You stared at the ground, before answering, "a hundred and ninety to two hundred."

Thorin froze in his seat, you were bound to him, he gawked at you. You were here to protect him? From what? What could you handle that he possibly couldn't? You felt the emotions swirling in Thorin's head, you looked at him, and said, "Just because you got your answer doesn't mean you're getting out of the dishes deal old man, or the smoking deal."

Thorin nodded his head and took your empty plate to the sink, rolled up his sleeves and and started washing them.

TAG LIST: @fictionalquintessence @life-is-righteous @wowjustwow002

@imaginesreblogged @17baldwinn (I think that’s everyone....uh message me please if I missed you or you wishes to be added to the tag list.)

--- Part 1 --- Part 2 (here)--- Part 3 --- Part 4 --- Part 5 --- Part 6 --- Part 7 --- Part 8 --- Part 9— Part 10 — Part 11— Part 12 — Part 13 —Part 14 — Part 15— Part 16— Part 17 --- Part 18 --- Part 19 --- Part 20 --- Part 21 ---

#unadulterated crack #part 2 #tma original #5-29-17 #fanfic #thorin #thorin x reader #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x reader #the hobbit #hobbit

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siliconwebx · 5 years

Text

How to Turn Customer Complaints into Positive Opportunities

Three hours. That’s how long I sat in the empty waiting area at Firestone for an oil change I had scheduled in advance. The guy who had checked me in was right there the whole time, so I knew he saw me. I could not imagine that they forgot about my car. Until another guy walked in, chewing a sandwich. “Uhh, what Altima?” Yeah. Mine.

Fast forward: I sent an email and the owner called me personally. He said, “I know all about what happened. I’m so sorry. I’ve put a gift card for $100 in the mail. Is there anything else I can do?” I’ve been to that same Firestone several times since.

Companies mess up. Oil changes sometimes inexplicably take three hours. Bad customer service experiences leave a lasting impression, but if you can pad that memory with, “Well, they did fix it…” you’ve done the best you can with a crummy situation. Your customers will remember the service they received more than anything else.

Gathering and Confronting Customer Complaints

Monitor all of it.

You have to monitor any avenue where your audience may be talking, regardless of whether you have a profile set up or not. Your customers could be discussing your brand on Twitter whether or not you have an account.

When it comes to the platforms you are on – or the ones you need to get on – setting up a dedicated support channel can silo must-deal-with messages. You won’t have to carefully watch your regular feed and risk missing a complaint buried under chatter.

One more thing: unless public image is the only thing you care about and you’re unconcerned with keeping the customer or influencing the word-of-mouth they spread, you have to act the same during a private conversation as you would during a public one. I’ve caught the eye of brands once I post something on their Facebook page, but that’s not caring customer service, that’s damage control.

Don’t let grievances linger.

Since the most frustrated customers have to be answered ASAP, set up a separate folder in your support queue to filter those high-priority messages. Team members can jump in to help out those customers before the issue escalates. Look how quickly ClassPass responded to upset customers on Twitter:

Know what the complaint is not.

Being the person who has to deal head-on with an irate customer is kind of like being a parent. Your kid may kick and scream and act unreasonably, but you have to still act like the adult you are, even if you’re kicking and screaming on the inside. Before you get worked up, remember what customer complaints are not:

Deep insight into your business. According to Phil Libin, co-founder of Evernote, “Customer feedback is great for telling you what you did wrong. It’s terrible at telling you what you should do next.”

A fight to the end. Who is right or wrong isn’t the point – your customer is unhappy and you have to look for a way to make it right, whatever “it” is.

Stipulations that you have to follow no matter what. You should find some way to resolve the issue, but it doesn’t have to be their way.

Don’t be too casual. Or too professional. Or too pathetic.

Balance conversational speak with professionalism. Overt sincerity swings the other way to insincere. You have to be accommodating and respectful, but you don’t have to be a puppy dog. This isn’t the customer’s world, this is the real world and you can both be treated like human beings while working out a problem. Keeping a customer but losing their respect or setting up a dynamic where they bully you to get what they want isn’t so great for business either.

Solving the Problem

Apologize.

“I’m sorry.” That’s all. Just apologize. Apologize if you don’t want to or if the customer is way more wrong than you. This is business and sometimes you have to do the “right” thing even when it’s, you know, the wrong thing.

P.S. These statements are not apologies:

I’m sorry you’re upset.

I’m sorry that you’re having this problem.

I apologize for the inconvenience.

These statements are passive-aggressive and infuriating. All I can think is, “Yeah, thanks, you caused this problem. I don’t wanna hear it.” And since you don’t want to get into, “Yeah, I know, our system’s the worst, we’re trying to fix it, you’re totally right…” just say those two little magic words.

Unearth the real problem.

Emotion-charged customer complaints are red herrings – there’s a problem buried under all that noise. What’s the real issue? Sometimes saying, “What can I do to help?” is all it takes to figure out the solution the customer is after, which will clue you into the deep down issue they’re having. If that doesn’t help, give Socratic questioning a try – it’s a way of asking probing questions that get to the heart of a problem.

Solve the issue where it lives.

Wherever your customers are complaining, solve the problem there. Don’t transfer a calling customer to three different agents or tell someone on Facebook chat to send you an email. Start and finish troubleshooting as swiftly as possible and in the same location.

A lot of this relies on how empowered your customer service agents are. If they’re not allowed to make decisions – offering a freebie, granting an extended trial period, giving a full refund – the entire problem-solving process slows down.

Be transparent when you’re mid-troubleshooting.

Some problems are going to be more difficult than others to solve. As you’re working it out, you’re going to keep getting customer complaints. Create a landing page or email template that explains what’s happening, what you’re doing and when you expect to have a solution, then update it as the situation progresses.

Don’t be so transparent that you provide premature updates, though. Did any of you have MoviePass? They gave daily updates about how the company was going down in flames, which resulted in changes to terms that stopped before they’d gotten off the ground, refund promises that never happened…it was a mess. Their customers knew there were fundamental problems, but itemizing those problems and the solutions-that-never-were was more off-putting than the service not working.

Follow up.

The follow-up is essential whether you spoke to the customer on the phone or through another channel. As much as possible, you want to ensure that the issue was dealt with and the customer is satisfied. “What else can I do for you?” is a nice way to ask, “Are we done here?” and to keep the door open in case they’re still not thrilled with the outcome.

Look how Xbox Support handled a problem customers were having:

They didn’t just pop into Twitter to see what upset customers and then disappear after fixing it, letting everyone find out on their own. They sent an update, thanked their customers and reminded them that they’re listening.

Give up.

When you’ve done everything you know to do and the customer is still not pacified, it’s time to move on. Stay friendly and professional, but finish the conversation. Similarly, if the customer asks to cancel their account, don’t try to persuade them to reconsider. That’s a surefire way to get rid of them forever instead of temporarily.

Self-reflect to determine if the customer had a point.

Loudness does not equal rightness and quietness does not equal wrongness. Volume doesn’t determine how accurate a complaint is. You’re looking for this: recurrences of the same problem. When multiple customers are telling you that they’re having the same issue, it’s a red flag. Here’s how to conduct a complaint analysis (I’m assuming that you have a system for cataloging feedback, but if you don’t…do that):

How many times has this complaint come up with this customer?

How often has this complaint come up with other customers?

How frequently does this happen?

Is there a pattern? For example, does it always happen during the same time of year or does it go through the same communication channel? If you get the same customer complaints through Twitter but never on your website’s live chat, there may be something up with your mobile app.

You don’t have to solve every problem right now. Small changes matter – even a small improvement to the customer experience can increase your average revenue.

Last Thoughts

Businesses need their customers more than customers need that business. The angry customer will move on and find another place to get their oil changed, pay full price for a movie ticket, unfollow you on Instagram and never think of you again (other than to tell their friends about that terrible, horrible, no good, very bad experience).

Your business will be the last to suffer – without loyal customers and with negative social proof flying around out there, your profits can dwindle (by $62 billion, apparently) and your doors can close.

Now that you’re on the keeping-your-customers-happy bus, check out this article about the right way to use social media buttons on your website.

The post How to Turn Customer Complaints into Positive Opportunities appeared first on Elegant Themes Blog.

😉SiliconWebX | 🌐ElegantThemes

#Silicon Web Design #Ahmedabad #India #Web Development #WPBeginner #Silicon URL #Web Site #Cloud Host

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brookedai-blog1 · 6 years

Text

Ham Script

ACT I

Scene 1

Set in an attic at night, faint light illuminating the scene as if from moonlight. TRACY and ERIC sit on the ground and watch KIP carefully arrange an assortment of candles and incense, a mirror, and other materials on the ground.

TRACY

How long do I have to stay?

KIP

Shh, I'm almost done.

ERIC

(beat) I'm hungry. Do you have any food?

KIP

There!

TRACY

What... exactly are we doing?

KIP

We're summoning a demon!

TRACY

What?!

KIP takes his phone out of his pocket and scrolls.

KIP

Alright...

(reading) "Immortal"... "Magick"... blah, blah... "How to summon. Always treat them with honesty and respect. Never command, demand or try to exploit them in any way. The correct methods for summoning a demon: One. Know the demon you intend to summon."

Guys, let's choose a demon.

ERIC

That website looks super sketch.

TRACY

I'm not doing this with you!

KIP

Whatever, it's just for fun, anyway.

There's Agi... Aga... Agaliarept, uh... "reveals secrets and unveils mysteries"?

ERIC

That's boring.

KIP

How about...

ERIC

(points) That guy.

KIP

"Fleruty. Fleruty has the power to perform any labour during the night". Ooh, he can also make hail... Let's do him, then.

"It is important to have a purpose... proper to offer something in return..."

(scrolls down)

Whatever, we'll figure that out later. "Copy, print out or draw the sigil of the Demon you wish to summon on clean paper," blah, blah... "visualize the sigil in your mind as best you can." blah... "While visualizing, recite, or chant the name of the Demon repeatedly either in your mind or aloud." Okay.

KIP takes a small white piece of paper and hands it to TRACY, along with a marker.

KIP

Tracy, you can draw, right? Draw the symbol.

TRACY

What, I'm not- fine.

TRACY quickly scrawls the symbol on the paper. It looks hideous.

KIP

"Recite the following prayer:"... Wait, do we light the candles, or what?

ERIC

It didn't say we had to, so...

KIP

Okay, let's start then. Wait, it says you have to call Satan... Uhh, let's not do that. We should replace it with something.

ERIC

How 'bout Ham?

TRACY

That's stupid!

KIP

Okay.

(reading) "Lord Ham, by your grace, grant me, I pray thee the power to conceive in my mind and to execute that which I desire to do, the end which I would attain by thy help, O Mighty Sa-Ham, the one True God who livest and reignest forever and ever. I entreat thee to inspire Fleruty to manifest before me that he or sh- he may give me true and faithful answer, so that I may accomplish my desired end, provided that it is proper to his office. This I respectfully and humbly ask in Your Name, Lord Ham, may you deem me worthy, Father."

(beat) Anything?

TRACY

It didn't work. This is so dumb.

KIP

Oh wait, we need a purpose-

ERIC

I WANT HAM!

KIP

-and something to offer.

(reading) "Some ideas are publicity for the Demon"... Uhh, demon, if you're listening, I'll tell my friends at school that it worked?

A loud bang, and smoke drifts from a corner of the stage. The smoke disperses to reveal a hunk of ham.

FLERUTY (V.O.)

It's pronounced "Flirty".

Blackout.

ACT I

Scene 2

Set in class during break. The background is filled with the noise of conversation. At a desk, several students gather around KIP and TRACY.

STUDENT 1

What did he say his name was?

TRACY

Flirty. Ew.

(laughter)

STUDENT 2

Why did you ask for ham, though?

KIP

Eric did.

STUDENTS

Ahhhhh. Typical Eric. That's so him.

STUDENT 2

Wait, so what happened to it?

STUDENT 1

Yeah, we need proof!

KIP

It's gone, Eric ate it.

STUDENTS

Aww. Sucks.

STUDENT 3

Wait, where's Eric?

TRACY

Probably sick from eating all that ham.

The bell rings.

STUDENT 2

Oop, gotta go to class.

KIP

See ya.

The STUDENTS disperse. Lights fade.

ACT I

Scene 3

Back in the attic at night, KIP and TRACY wait. This time, the scene is illuminated purely by candles.

TRACY

Where is he? He was supposed to be here half an hour ago. You sure you told him?

KIP

Yeah, I told him. All he texted back was "yeh bb".

TRACY

What does that even mean?

ERIC bursts in, as if drunk.

ERIC

Oi guys-

ERIC collapses in the middle of the floor.

TRACY

(beat) Is he dead?

KIP

Uh... No, there's still a pulse. He'll be okay.

TRACY

We should tell-

KIP

Let's just summon Fleruty.

ERIC suddenly awakens.

FLERUTY (through ERIC)

I'm here.

KIP

Glad you're finally with us, Eric.

FLERUTY (THROUGH ERIC)

Excuse me? My name is Fleruty.

KIP

Uh... Okay, man, whatever you say.

TRACY

You're so weird.

KIP

Don't ask for ham again.

FLERUTY (THROUGH ERIC)

You did not appreciate it?

KIP

Well I mean, someone ate it all before we could try any.

FLERUTY (THROUGH ERIC)

Really? Who?

TRACY

Are you serious?

KIP

He's probably drunk or something. Just ignore him.

KIP takes the sigil from the previous day; it's crumpled.

"Lord Ham, by your grace, grant-"

FLERUTY (THROUGH ERIC)

If you will stop rudely ignoring me, I am already here.

KIP

Uh-

FLERUTY (THROUGH ERIC)

Actually, I need something from you. I'm unable to exit this body. You summoned me last, so-

TRACY

Wait so, Eric is possessed by Flirty?

KIP

Oh, my G-

FLERUTY (THROUGH ERIC)

Excuse you.

TRACY

Call an exorcist!

KIP

That's actually a pretty good idea...

FLERUTY (THROUGH ERIC)

No! No, don't do that.

KIP

Why not?

FLERUTY (THROUGH ERIC)

(beat) It will not end well for me.

KIP

Okay, so an exorcist is out of the question. Why Eric, though? He wasn't even the one who summoned Fleruty.

TRACY

He ate the ham, though.

FLERUTY (THROUGH ERIC)

So this body ate the ham?

KIP

Yes.

FLERUTY (THROUGH ERIC)

(beat) I have a theory. The ham I conjured would've been especially powerful because I serve the great Lord Ham... His body and soul must have been too weak.

KIP

Too weak? What do you mean?

FLERUTY (THROUGH ERIC)

It may have created a vacuum and sucked me in. But I've never been asked for ham until yesterday, so this hasn't happened before.

TRACY

So the ham did it? Why ham, specifically?

FLERUTY (THROUGH ERIC)

Because ham is sacred to the great Lord, it holds special power for him and his followers.

KIP

Wait, you're supposed to be able to... what was it, do any labour in the night? It's night now. What if I just told you to get out of Eric's body? Fleruty, get out of Eric's body, please.

FLERUTY (THROUGH ERIC)

I wouldn't be here if I could.

TRACY

What if we just wait until Eric takes a dump?

KIP

That sounds like a solid plan.

FLERUTY (THROUGH ERIC)

Dump?

KIP

Until he poos.

FLERUTY (THROUGH ERIC)

I see. Let's try your plan, then.

KIP

Alright, then, I guess we'll see you tomorrow.

ERIC exits. Lights fade.

ACT I

Scene 4

Set at KIP's house in the afternoon, right after school. KIP has just entered the house and is preparing to go to his room.

A knock sounds. KIP opens the door. ERIC enters.

ERIC

Hey, Kip! I haven't seen you in a couple days.

KIP

Eric?

ERIC

I was just getting hungry. Do you have any food lying around?

KIP

Uh, yeah, in th-

FLERUTY (THROUGH ERIC)

I'm running out of time.

KIP

What?

FLERUTY (THROUGH ERIC)

Help. Now. Please.

KIP

Okay. Let's go to the attic.

KIP takes his phone out and dials.

KIP

Tracy? Yeah. Come quick. The door's open. We'll be in the attic.

KIP and ERIC exit. Lights fade.

ACT I

Scene 5

Back in the attic, in the afternoon. Dim afternoon light illuminates the scene, as if from behind drawn curtains. ERIC sits in the middle, TRACY a little off to the side. KIP arranges candles, incense, and other summoning materials around the entire attic.

FLERUTY (THROUGH ERIC)

I can't hold on much longer. His soul is fighting to overpower me.

KIP

Right. (beat) Aren't you supposed to be really powerful, though?

FLERUTY (THROUGH ERIC)

We aren't meant to remain in this world for extended periods of time.

KIP

Okay, man.

KIP takes a small white piece of paper and hands it to TRACY, along with a marker.

KIP

Tracy, draw a sigil of a ham.

TRACY carefully draws on the paper. The result looks nothing like ham.

KIP

Alright, we're ready to begin.

TRACY

What exactly are we doing?

KIP

Summoning Lord Ham himself.

ERIC

Ham, you said?

TRACY

Oh, my Go- oodness.

KIP

(to ERIC) Shut up and stay still.

(reading) "Lord Ham, by your grace, grant me..."

This is taking too long. Lord Ham, excuse my directness, we need your help, Fleruty's trapped in Eric's body and can't get out. Can you do anything about it?

(beat) We'll, uh, make ham offerings to you for a month?

A loud bang, and smoke fills the stage. The smoke disperses to reveal a single tiny slice of ham, right in front of ERIC.

LORD HAM (o.s.)

Eat.

ERIC eats the ham. Silence falls and lasts for a bit too long.

KIP

Eric?

ERIC

I'm still kinda hungry.

TRACY

Is Flirty out?

ERIC

What're you talking about?

KIP

(beat) Shoot. Were we too late?

TRACY

Damn...

KIP

Oh, come on...

TRACY

I mean, I wasn't really part of this, right? I didn't summon him or eat the ham or anything... Right?

ERIC

That ham was really good. Wish you could've tasted it.

KIP

Shut up, Tracy. You're just as guilty as the rest of us.

TRACY

This is kinda messed up.

KIP

(beat) I know.

FLERUTY (O.S.)

I'm out. I just wanted to watch you sweat a bit.

KIP

Dammit, Fleruty!

Blackout.

0 notes