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music-of-dragons · 3 years

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AGOT Dany V

I love this chapter, but it's so sad...

Loose Key for organization:

● Summary ○My Thoughts

● Chapter 5 opens with Drogo setting the Stallion heart before her, it's time for the heart eating ritual 🤢

○ Dany once again thinks to herself that she is the blood of the dragon to give herself strength when feeling uncertain.

● Dany must eat all of the heart and retch up nothing or else the omens for her child will be less favorable. She completely finishes the heart and proclaims that a prince rides inside her in her best Dothraki.

○ Dany is becoming more familiar with the language and appealed to their culture to garner support for her unborn son! She practiced the phrase for days, she is dedicated.

● Khal Drogo himself is tense as they wait in silence for the prophecy of the crone.

~"I have seen his face, and heard the THUNDER of his hooves...as swift as THE WIND he rides, and behind him his khalasar covers THE EARTH, men without number, with arakhs shining in their hands like blades of razor grass. FIERCE as A STORM this prince will be. His enemies will tremble before him, and their wives will weep tears of blood and rend their flesh in grief. The BELLS in his hair will sing his coming, and the MILK MEN in the STONE TENTS will fear his name."~

○ This is the prophecy of the Stallion who Mounts the World, and I believe that the Stallion is actually Daenerys. The prophecy has some very specific imagery which I capitalized for emphasis. So first off, THUNDER, FIERCE AS A STORM, Daenerys's given name is Daenerys STORMBORN for the great storm she was born in that smashed the Targaryen Fleet and held off the Usurper's knives. Second, swift as THE WIND can have 2 meanings. Dany called her silver the wind when she was gifted her, she will also eventually become a dragonrider who flies on the wind. Third, Dany wears bells in her hair long after the death of Khal Drogo, her handmaids add them after each victory, so Dany's coming may very well be sung by the bells in her hair. Fourth, the MILK MEN in their STONE TENTS are the people of Westeros, Dany has plans to conquer Westeros. Once word spreads of Daenerys Targaryen coming to conquer Westeros with her dragons, her name will be feared. The Stallion prophecy will come to pass, so if not Rhaego, who? His mother. The crones sensed it but assumed it was her son cause patriarchy. She will grow from broodmare, to Stallion.

●After the heart eating ritual, Dany, Drogo, and a procession of Dothraki walk to the Womb of the World. Dany bathes in the small lake while the crones watch her and murmur among themselves, then she emerges dripping and shivering.

○ I think the womb of the world will come into importance later in the story, when Dany is decreed the Stallion, but that's for another chapter.

● After the events at the womb of the world, everyone returns to Khal Drogo's hall. There are many foods and drinks being cooked and served, and one of those foods mentioned, is a pomegranate! Dany thinks to herself that she knows no arakhs will clash this night due to the sacred laws and customs of Vaes Dothrak forbidding steel and bloodshed. Dany invites Jorah to sit and talk with her. She learns from him that Viserys tried to steal her dragon eggs.

~Dany had not known, had not even suspected. "Then… he should have them. He does not need to steal them. He had only ask. He is my brother… and my true king."

"He is your brother," Ser Jorah acknowledged.

"You do not understand, ser," she said. "My mother died giving me birth, and my father and my brother Rhaegar even before that. I would never have known so much as their names if Viserys had not been there to tell me. He was the only one left. The only one. He is all I have."

○ I think Dany's response to the news of Viserys trying to steal from her is very telling of her character. She never stopped loving Viserys despite everything he did to her. He is her only living family and she feels that she owes him so much for protecting her, raising her, and telling her the stories of Westeros. It wasn't until this next moment that everything truly came crashing down.

● Viserys comes striding in looking a mess, drunk, overly confident… and wearing a longsword on his belt. The Dothraki are already throwing curses and angry mutterings are all around, the music dies. He has broken their sacred law. Khal Drogo exacerbates his fickle state by telling him his place is with the lowest of the low, furthest from the fires. Drogo says in the common tongue, ~"Is place… for Sorefoot King. A cart! Bring cart for Khal Raggat!" And the hall erupts in laughter. Viserys tussles with Jorah before he is knocked to the floor, then finally draws his blade.

●~Dany gave a wordless cry of terror. She knew what a drawn sword meant here, even if her brother did not.~ Dany is terrified for Viserys, she knows that what he did means death. She BEGS him to put the sword away, to join her on her cushions, she offers him food and drink and even her dragon eggs, so long as he puts away the sword. Viserys turns the blade on Dany, pricking her stomach with the end of the sword. He threatens to cut out Drogo's "foal" and leave it for him. ~Viserys was weeping, she saw; weeping and laughing, both at the same time, this man who had once been her brother.~

○ That last line is so depressing. Dany never stopped thinking of Viserys as her brother until the moment he threatened her son. Dany loves and values Rhaego over anything else, she found happiness and purpose in her pregnancy. When the one who was supposed to love and protect her threatens to kill who she loves most in the world, she could no longer tolerate his abuses, and could no longer see him as her brother. It's heartbreaking for her.

● ~Viserys smiled and lowered his sword. That was the saddest thing, the thing that TORE at her afterward...the way he smiled.~

○ There is no doubt that Dany mourned her brother after his death, no doubt. She mourned for the brother he used to be, not the man he became.

●The next moment has Drogo holding Dany as his men sieze Viserys. By this point, she only refers to him as "the man who had been her brother". She describes Drogo not even looking at "the man". When Jorah tells her to turn away, she say no, and folds her arms over her stomach protectively. Viserys gets his golden crown after screaming that he was THE DRAGON and that no one could harm him. ~He was no dragon, Dany thought, curiously calm. Fire cannot kill a dragon.~

○ Dany's lime about Viserys not being a dragon is an abuse victim coming to terms with the death of her abuser. Viserys struck terror into her heart from the time she was a child by telling her she "woke the dragon" and hurting her. She feared him, she was meek and submissive because of him, she bent to the whims of others who saw her as nothing because of him. When that image finally crumbles before her, she is in shock. She had just gone from pride and happiness, to terror for the life of her brother, terror again for the life of her own child and body, to withdrawn acceptance of the situation at hand. Viserys was never a dragon in the way that he used it. A dragon by blood, but not in character. That's what Dany meant.

Art by Ted Nasmith!

#danymonth2021 #daenerys targaryen #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #dany #a game of thrones #my meta #arereadofdaenerys #book!dany #book!daenerys

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freesiart · 4 years

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One of us

Loki’s life in Avengers tower is not that unperturbed as it might seem at the beginning.

English isn’t my first language, I apologize if there were any mistakes!

Gif is not mine

He didn’t know what was wrong with him. It must have been those weird midgardian vibes that left him panting at the mere sight of you.

You were average, really. Loki had seen many beautiful women, goddesses even, and still there was something weirdly attractive about you. He didn’t know what exactly it was. Or why did he memorize your every movement, every tilt of your head, every curve of your body.

Also he didn’t know why his heart ached so much when you wouldn’t even spare him a glance. He was a god, after all.

Loki didn’t like his room. It was large and empty, with huge blue windows and no furniture except for a bed and a wardrobe. He didn’t ask for anything else, really, but still his room seemed cold and blank. He preferred a common room: it was warm, cozy, it smelled like coffee. Then again, you spent here most of your time.

You were never an early bird, but your job required you to get up first. Well, if working meant drinking coffee till noon.

When at dawn you walked into the common room yawning, Loki sat up straighter on the couch and clasped his hands awkwardly in his lap. In a very divine way.

“Morning, Loki,” you greeted, yawning and shoving a mug into a coffee machine. You almost missed it.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Loki replied, trying to keep his voice at ease.

“Would you like some coffee?” you asked, pressing a button on a machine. “Black like your soul?” you suggested mockingly.

Loki swallowed. He did not expect your participation; truth to be told, he didn’t expect you to be friendly with him at all.

He forced out a smile.

“Actually, I like it with milk,” he corrected. You grinned and pulled a bag out of a fridge.

"Is Mr. Stark awake yet?" you asked. Catching his questioning glance, you explained, “Vision told me that you spent a whole night here. And the night before.”

Loki frowned.

“I haven't seen Stark,” he replied rudely. “I'm not his keeper.”

You said nothing and pushed a mug of coffee towards him. A bit harshly.

Loki's heart skipped a bit.

He always felt a strange tension when he was with you, as if he was afraid to ruin everything with an accidental phrase or gesture.

That’s what he did right now, apparently.

“I ... I apologize,” he quickly said. “That was undeservedly rude.”

You silently poured yourself some coffee and sat down next to him. You were separated only by a bar counter.

You twirled a mug in your fingers. It was your favorite, handmade, with blue flowers on the sides. You raised a mug to your lips, and Loki looked away. His heart was beating wildly.

“I told Mr. Stark that your room is too empty a long time ago,” you finally said, and typed something on the touchpad on your wrist. “I'll order furniture. Any requests?”

Loki bit his tongue so as not to blur out anything obscene.

“No need. I prefer it here... if I’m not a bother,” he quickly added.

“Not at all, but...” You fell silent, choosing your words. Loki noticed that when you was thinking, your nostrils fluttered slightly. It was very cute. “I think everyone needs personal space. Sometimes, at least.”

Loki took a sip of coffee - great coffee. He didn't understand why you were so kind to him. You were the only one who was, besides Thor.

“In that case, furnish to your liking,” he said, grinning.

You smiled back at him, in such a clean and light way that his chest tightened. Odin, he didn't even deserve to be near you.

“Okay! I’ll do my best.” You looked at the touchpad again and frowned, emptying the mug in one gulp. “Damn it! I'm late for the aircraft detour.”

You grabbed a jacket from the chair and jumped up. Loki stood up, too.

“Can I go with you?” he asked, trying not to show his nervousness. You raised your eyebrows in surprise as you buttoned your jacket, and he added: “It's just I’m bored. I thought I'd keep you company.”

“Of course, let's go.” You touched him on the shoulder, and he shuddered, as if from an electric shock. Quickly recovering himself, he caught up with you, still feeling the pleasant electric warmth in his hand.

***

The walk took twice as long as usual.

Loki could talk to you forever. You were smart, funny, interesting, and you didn't make him feel guilty or left out. He felt like you did not hold a grudge against him at all.

This conversation was the best thing that has happened to Loki in many years.

Laughing and bantering playfully, you finally returned to the common room. Which was full of people.

Avengers assemble, Loki thought sourly.

He stopped at the entrance and leaned against the doorframe. You went to the counter, pushed Natasha out and started pouring fresh coffee for everyone.

There was an awkward silence. You pretended to be passionate about a coffee machine, Loki did the same about his nails.

When you put a mug in front of Tony with a smile, he coughed.

“Y/N,” he began. “You... why were you with him?”

Either you were really surprised, or you portrayed it so skillfully that even Loki did not guess.

“What are you talking about?” you asked as you handed mugs to Steve and Nat. “We were on a detour. As you asked. No big deal.”

“Yes, you are great, I adore you, and the coffee is great as always. But he...” Tony jabbed a finger at Loki. He rolled his eyes. “Why was he with you?”

You shrugged and leaned your back against the counter, drying your hands with a towel. Nat and Steve looked at you with sympathy.

“I have no idea why I haven't kicked him out yet,” Stark muttered and sipped his coffee. “Do not ever come near her again, do you understand?”

Pure, unmuffled hatred spilled into Loki's chest. What right does he have to prohibit communicating with you? The only thing that has kept him in the Avengers tower so far?

But before he could open his mouth, you retorted:

“You are my boss, not my father. I'll hang out with whoever I want, Mr. Stark.”

“Tony, really, this is not...” - Natasha began, but Stark interrupted her:

“As long as you work here, you will do as I tell you, Y/N. And I forbid you to communicate with that... with him. Maybe you were just a child in 2012, but I remember very well what he is capable of.”

“Is that so?” you asked coldly and met Stark's gaze without blinking. “Then I quit.”

“What?” all those present exclaimed in chorus. Loki felt something rip inside of him. To the anger was added a sharp, tormenting longing.

"Kid, I ..." Tony rubbed his face and closed his eyes for a moment. “Sorry. I shouldn't have put my authority on you. You are pretty capable of making decisions, and I trust them.” He looked up at Loki. There was a clear threat in his gaze. “It’s him I don’t trust.”

Your face softened, and you covered Tony's hand with yours. Steve breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Don't worry,” you said calmly and smiled at Stark, then looked at Loki, and the smile widened. “I know what I'm doing.”

Well, that's good, Loki thought. That makes one of us.

#loki #loki imagine #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #imagine #loki fandom

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doctorthreephds · 4 years

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Synapses: Part 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 3.3k

TW: Again, nothing, except excess amounts of knowledge about forensics. Also the books suggested are great reads.

Summary: Your not-so-date date with Spencer arrives and you prepare for the worst to find out that the two of you have more in common than you realize. It is then when you begin to find feelings for the resident genius.

Masterlist

Taglist: @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @green-intervention

The next couple of days are a blur, with the signing of paperwork at the Bureau and enjoying your time off before you’re officially hired. Your lack of excitement was confusing. Usually most are nervous or excited to start a new job. But, for you, seeing Spencer was the most nerve-wracking thing you had experienced in a while.

That Saturday, you wake before your alarm. Even though the night before you had a hard time getting to bed, you wake once the light shines in through your window. It streams in and baths you in a golden glow. You had told Spencer to meet you at the bookstore around nine in hopes of checking out some books and then grabbing a bite to eat together, but you knew little to nothing about how flighty he would be. Would he take the books and leave? Or would he want to stay and chat? Perhaps you were overthinking a little bit.

A startling ring comes from your phone, forcing you to sit up and grab at it to silence the loud alarm. You groan as you throw your legs over the side of the bed, walking over to the closet to look through the hangers of sweaters and blazers amassed from years in academia. You think back to that night, what Spencer was wearing. His usual get-up was a blazer over a sweater vest and a button-up, at least it was for that night. It was cold then too. A beige sweater over a white button-up and a thick wool coat would do for today, it was rather chilly in D.C with the recent snowfall.

Your stomach bubbles with butterflies as you walk into your bathroom. After splashing some cold water on your face, you brush your teeth and try to calm your shaky hands. The blood rushing through your ears is like an anthem playing to your every movement. Was your heart pounding that loudly? You pause and take a deep breath before walking out of your room and into the kitchen. Opting for decaf so that your hands don’t shake as violently, a splash of milk and a teaspoon of sugar drop into the blue cup before you sip on the warm drink and stare out at the cityscape through your window like the calm before the storm. It was peaceful to see the bright white snow stand out against the brick and concrete as people pass by and get on with their Saturday morning. The steam from the drink tickles your nose as you take small sips, trying to pass time in an effort to not show up too early. You didn’t want to appear as if this was the only thing you had been thinking about for the past week, even though it was.

“You can do this,” you whisper to yourself, the phrase playing over and over in your head like a mantra, before grabbing your bag off the island countertop and typing in the code to start the security alarm. Rushing out the door, you close it behind you, the blanket of safety falling around your shoulders. Just another one of your father’s little things. At least you always felt safe.

Making your way down the stairs, you get down to the lobby and then out the glass doors into the rushed city streets. The chill relaxes you, calms your warm clammy skin as you walk down the sidewalk to the bookstore. A small smile grows on your face as puffs of air are made present with each breath. Your apartment was perfectly located, close to both the metro and the bookstore that you loved so dearly. It killed you to leave it behind when you got your Ph.D. but you were determined to be near it when you moved back.

A familiar ringing of the store bell engulfs you in a feeling of comfort as you near the store. It had been years since you went on a date, not like this was one, but you were definitely interested in Spencer and feared scaring him away or just not being interesting enough for him.

Walking through the door was like being transported into another world, The walls were lined with books, floor to ceiling. It was like a palace and you knew that every single book had a different world you could escape to when you needed to, when reality got too much. Every time you brought your dad here to sign some of Shelby’s collection of his books, he too had a similar face of awe. His job was stressful enough, it was the least you could do to help him gain some sort of escape.

“Hey there!” Shelby, the owner, calls out.

“Hi, Shel! How are you today?” you ask, glancing over at at the wall of candles next to her and checking to see if any of your favorites were restocked. It was one of the most alluring parts of the store, the book-themed candles with matching scents.

“I’m doing great, how did your last interview go? I know you were on the last one of the whole process,” she asks.

“It went great! I actually got the job and celebrated that night with my dad and his coworkers. There was actually this one guy--”

You hear the bell ring behind you and twist around to see Spencer standing there, an awkward smile across his face.

“Hey, Spencer! Welcome to the best place on earth,” you swing back to wink at Shelby and then walk forward to stand next to the young doctor. It makes you smile to see his crooked tie sitting underneath his maroon sweater vest and navy blazer. Out of instinct, you reach forward and adjust it before pulling back to realize what you had done.

“I am so sorry, it’s just a force of habit from when I do it for my dad,” you mumble and look down to the floor bashfully in an attempt to hide from the awkward shame.

“No worries. Shall we get to the books?” he asks and looks out to the bookstore. It was mostly barren due to the early hours, but it was perfect in your eyes. The overwhelming smell of paper and ink fills your senses as you direct Spencer over to the true crime section.

“I remember when I first found forensics books in the true crime section. It makes sense, though, forensics is all technically up to interpretation as anything but to me, it’s an interesting way of looking at science,” you state and begin pulling out books from the shelves. The Poisoner’s Handbook by Deborah Blum, Forensics by Val McDermid, and All that Remains by Sue Black. It wasn’t the heftiest stack of books you had walked out with, but you were sure it would tie Spencer over for at least a couple days.

“The same thing could be said about profiling, a lot of people show hesitation when it comes to our profiles, but we haven’t been wrong yet. It was only really in the last 50 years that people started to take it more seriously, although some still don’t believe it to be helpful” he states and you look up at him.

“Alrighty, there are three of my favorite ones. And honestly, if anything I can get you my college textbooks if you really want to enrich yourself, but I doubt those will be as entertaining as these,” you say and let out a little laugh.

“I’ll probably get through these today,” he glances down at the stack of books as you stare in awe.

“How? No way,” you mumble, your eyes widening.

“I can read 12,000 words per minute,” you pause in place, staring in awe as he speaks.

“I stand corrected, I wish I had your mind when I was working on my dissertation. God, I spent hours reading research papers and textbooks that I thought my brain would melt. For you? Light reading,” you state and shake your head. “Spencer you’re incredible.”

“Hm,” he hums and looks down at the floor, almost like a resignation. It was sad to see. Did he not know how amazing his mind is?

“What?” you ask and frown.

“Most people don’t say that when I tell them about me. They usually look at me in awe or like I’m a freak of nature,” he mumbles and huffs. You pause and stare at him for a moment before speaking.

“Well, you shouldn’t listen to them,” you boldly state as he looks up. “Growing up, knowledge and education was the one thing that no one could take away from me. Spencer, I think you’re the coolest person I know, and my dad is pretty famous.”

He lets out a small laugh at that as you take a moment to look at him, really look at him. His hair was a plop of messy curls on top of his head, smoothed down to try and look somewhat put together, and his eyes were a deep brown although slightly dull from lack of sleep. He carried himself a little bit timidly, but he carried the books in his arms like they were the key to unlocking everything. And for that? You adored him.

“Do you wanna go grab some lunch? I’d love to get to know one of my new coworkers,” you tell him and begin walking over to Shelby.

“Sure,” he says, a slight flush on his cheeks appearing as Shelby rings him up and you go through a couple of the candles, taking a quick whiff of the ones that look interesting. You take one that smells like butterscotch and place it on the counter, reaching over to your bag to bring your wallet out.

“I got it,” he mumbles and smiles as you frown, shaking your head.

“No, it’s okay,” you tell him as Shelby takes his card, looking at you pointedly.

“No, it’s alright, I got it.” he responds and takes the small receipt back from Shelby along with his card.

You narrow your eyes, a playful smile appearing on your face as you stare at him while Shelby bags up the books and then hands you the candle.

“I’ve got lunch then,” you tell him and gently nudge his shoulder, a smile spreading over your face. He nods and the two of you walk out of the bookstore into the cold D.C. street. The cafe you had in mind was only a couple stores over and the irresistible smell of freshly baked pastries was unmistakeable as the two of you walked closer. As you approach, Spencer speeds up and holds the door open for you as you mutter a small thanks to him.

The cafe itself was rather small but full of people who were enjoying their mornings out. The menu was littered with several different drinks and food in French. Glancing into the case full of food, you set your eyes on a spinach and cheddar cheese quiche as well as a warm mug of tea. When you walk up to the counter, you look over at Spencer for a moment as he too stares up at the menu. He suddenly looks back at you and you feel like you get whiplash from how quickly you look back to the woman behind the register.

“I’ll take what she’s having and a coffee with room for cream and sugar,” he responds as you quickly hand over your card, ensuring that he has no time to take out his wallet. When the transaction is finished, the two of you move off to the side to wait for your food and drinks.

“So what else do you do besides working and reading? Although, I’d guess work takes up a majority of your time,” you ask, looking over at him as you rub your hands together to help warm them up a bit. You should have brought your gloves, but it had slipped your mind this morning in the midst of all your chaotic thoughts about the day.

“I play chess in the park when I find the time. I also like to watch foreign movies and knit occasionally, although I haven’t really found time for it recently. Most of my time outside of work is dedicated to reading,” he responds.

“Oh gosh, I could never knit. I tried it once and it went very poorly, I just have really bad coordination with my non-dominant hand. Crocheting is my personal favorite type of fiber art, it only really requires one hand,” you smile as your name is called out and your drinks are put on the counter alongside your food. Quickly, you grab the mug full of tea with one hand and feel relief as it begins to warm your cold fingers. With the other hand, the two of you grab your quiches and walk over to the condiments section where you watch as Spencer proceeds to dump several sugar packets into his coffee.

“Not a fan of the bitterness?” you ask and laugh as he dumps the sugar in, stirring it around with a stir stick.

“Just a sugar addict,” he smiles up at you and your heart almost skips a beat in your chest as the two of you maneuver over to a table.

“I remember, sugar over alcohol. I hope the cake that night was to your satisfaction,” you say and begin digging into your food after a quick sip of tea to warm your insides.

“I think it could have had more sugar,” you bark out another laugh and take a bite of the quiche.

“I’ll keep that in mind next time,” you mumble.

“What about you? What do you do in your free time?” he asks and you pause your eating to warm your hands with the mug of tea.

“I like to read as well, although I usually read science-related books. I’ve been trying to broaden my horizons and read some classical literature, I think there’s a lot to be learned from fiction that most scientists fail to recognize. There’s often a gap between humanities and science-related majors, but I think that they’re a lot more similar than they realize,” you speak and feel your hands sweat as you look up at Spencer who appears to be watching you as you talk. “Sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?’

“No, you’re fine. It’s not often that people think the two are connect when, in fact, there is a lot that can be bridged between the two. Science can only be progressed if information is shared and made available for people to read, that’s why papers are only accredited if they’re peer-reviewed. I’d like to think psychology is a marrying of the two, both humanities and science. Without the knowledge of human nature, we cannot predict and better ourselves as human beings but without the scientific process, we are left unable to process experiments and theories. So, you’re completely correct,” he says and the two of you are left staring at each other as you soak in the information. Your heart soars at his response and you can only smile as you bow your head slightly to try and hide the warmth in your cheeks.

“Very astute analysis there, Dr. Reid,” you mumble, hiding your smile in your cup as you bring it up to take a sip.

“Thank you, Dr. Montgomery,” Spencer does the same with his coffee and you feel your cheeks stretch even further than imagined, a warmth growing in your chest.

The rest of your “not date” is spent talking about similar things, the disparity that people seem to observe between humanities and science as well as fun facts thrown around to keep the atmosphere light.

“I mean, before photographs, people had to draw crime scenes to keep track of where everything was. The procedures for crime scene investigation were very poor then, though, but they did what they had to do. I find that facial reconstruction is one of my favorite connections between art and science, the fact that scientists learn how to sculpt faces in order to make an identification,” you state as you finish the last bite of your quiche and drink the rest of your tea.

“It goes hand and hand with forensic anthropology to help identify victims. It’s moreso for the family than it is to help find the unsub, but it can add to victimology and help understand how the victim died,” he responds, also finishing the last of his sickeningly sweet coffee.

“But it’s so cool how science and art really are married. To be good at figure drawing, you have to have a good understanding of anatomy and to successfully construct a face, you must know how to sculpt,” you finish and look down at the finished meal, you feel a bit sad to find your time with Spencer coming to an end. “I’ll bring this over to the trash.”

You stand and take the plates with their respective mugs over to the tub of used dishes and discard your tea bag and napkins used. Walking back over, you find Spencer standing next to the table grabbing his own bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Shall we?” he mutters and you nod, following him out the door.

“I’m going this way,” you tell him, pointing back in the direction of your apartment and the bookstore.

“You didn’t take the train?” he asks, hugging his bag close as he furrows his brow.

“Oh! No, I live just a couple blocks down from the bookstore. I chose my apartment for that reason,” you clutch your bag close as well, almost a sort of object to ground yourself so the endless nerves are redirected some place other than your brain.

“I’ll walk you down, then,” he states and moves to stand beside you.

“You don’t have to, it’s just a couple blocks,” you state and shake your head.

“I insist,” he smiles and you can feel your heart jump in your chest. Maybe it was the bright blue cloudy sky behind him or the chill in the air, but something about him felt a bit unreal.

“Al-Alright,” you mumble and begin back down the street, a calm silence settling as the two of you walk in tandem and allow the noise of D.C. to fill the air. The walk is short, shorter than you remember, but the warmth of Spencer next to you is distracting so perhaps the fact that you can’t keep track of the streets is enough to make it feel like no time has passed. In fact, you almost walk past your apartment building, but the glass doors swing open and stop you in your place as someone else walks out.

“This is me,” you glance up at the building and look back at him, unsure of what to say.

“We should do this again some time. I’ll bring you some of the classics that I have so you can have more to read,” he suggests but takes a step back, almost like he regrets the words coming out of his mouth as they do so. “Only if you want to, you don’t have to--”

“I’d like that,” another pause as your heart begins to pound faster. “I’ll text you.”

You lean forward on your tip toes and press a kiss to his cheek before spinning around and walking into the building, attempting to catch your breath and not turn to look at his reaction. Hoping and praying you didn’t overstep, you head into the elevator and look out at the street where you see Spencer staring in a sort of awe, a silly smile on his face. The doors close in front of you as you ponder. Maybe it was a date.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #penelope garcia #david rossi #derek morgan #jj #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss

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jamilelucato · 4 years

Text

Best Teacher, Part 3 || Fred Weasley

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!reader

Fandom: Harry Potter

Summary: y/N is a pureblood Slytherin best friends with Harry Potter, but not yet that close to the Weasleys until she’s invited to spend Christmas with them.

PART 1 || PART 2

A/N: It’s the last chapter, hope you’re all just excited as I am. I must say, it would have been better if I had published it on Christmas but I just couldn’t wait. So, if you want my advice, reread it on Christmas.

*gif below actually mine and I'm so proud

The first thing you realised when you got out of the bathroom was that you had the wrong wand. At first sight, you had no idea why or how. It was only when you kept on thinking that you remembered when you could have swapped it.

The night before had been... well, interesting, to say the least. You could still feel Fred's touch, even if it had passed hours. Heck! You had showered and you still could smell his perfume on you!

To any help, once you finally managed to quiet your thoughts and sleep, he was there, visiting you in your dreams, just to kiss you again.

You were not complaining, though. Yeah, yeah, you had a resting bitch face when you got downstairs, which caused Ginny to ask you if anything was wrong.

"Slept on my wrong side, I guess" you answered, short and sharp.

She looked at you like she couldn't recognize the girl in front of her, and, to be fair, neither could you. You tended to be grumpy, especially in the morning, but never that grumpy.

It didn't make sense. You had just been kissed like you had been waiting your whole life to, and now you walked around acting terrible.

The Weasley Twins were not yet on the breakfast table. The boys — all of the boys in the house — were late for breakfast, that was their mom's complaint in the morning.

"I just know they are up to something, I know they are" she finished, seeing you and Ginny walk in. "Good morning, girls".

You tried faking a smile, but it felt too hard so you gave up. Mrs Weasley didn't even notice, going back to the stove, not waiting for a reply. You sat right next to Ginny, avoiding the chair where you were happy to sit one day ago.

"Where are the boys?" Ginny asked. You were not able to conclude if she meant all her brothers or just the twins, but you were curious just like her.

"Percy's in the bathroom" Mr Weasley answered, not showing his face because of the newspaper he held. "Ron and Harry overslept, I suppose."

You started madding up, desperately wanting to know the explanation for Fred and George's disappearance. They were, surprisingly, generally the firsts to eat breakfast and their absence on the table made your stomach boil up.

"Want an egg, dear?" Molly asked you after placing a scrambled egg in front of her daughter.

"No, thanks. Not that hungry today" your answer surprised Mrs Weeasley, but she didn't bother insisting.

You were avoiding asking about the twins, but after pouring yourself a cup of milk — and remembering the night before — you just couldn't take the unknown anymore. "Where are Fred and George?"

Ginny was the first to look at you, slowly smiling as she was understanding your curiosity. She, before even you, noticed you three were up to something bigger than pranking everyone in the house. You suspected she even knew about the secret midnight getaways, but she was too embarrassed to say a thing.

Mrs Weasley pointed a finger at you, letting go of the frying panhandle in a gasp. "See? The visitors noticed it is weird!" her voice was louder than before, her eyes wide open at Mr Weasley direction.

The husband let go of his newspaper, which fell on his lap. He rolled his eyes — a habit that you now understood it was very common for the Weasleys.

"Dear Merlin, woman, I believe they are alright. If they were up to no good, we would have known by now" he said, in a fail attempt of calming down his wife.

Molly simply got back facing the house's stove, but she didn't look pleased. "I swear if I catch them doing evil spells again..." but she never finished her threat.

Percy finally got down to the kitchen, sitting at his father's right. "Good morning, family. Good morning, y/N."

You were in no mood of being nice so you just mockingly smiled at him. Ginny chocked with her mug on hand, almost spitting the drink.

Harry and Ron came down the stairs laughing, but their giggles died once they sat on the table. Harry was polite enough to wish us all a good morning, but Ron didn't do so, he just sat next to you with a weird expression on his face.

"Where are the twins?" he asked, realising the missing pieces of the breakfast table.

"They weren't in their rooms," Mr Weasley said, finally revealing to you what you had been most curious about. "So I don't know where they can be."

Alas, that only left you with a lot more questions. What could they possibly be doing? Was it your fault? Could Fred have asked for his twin's help to disappear from the house just because you kissed him? If that was the case, good Merlin, your mood for the morning was less than appropriate. That was it. Fred hated you and was disgusted by the kiss. You were a shame for your name.

"They are not planning on dye my hair again, are they?" Ron asked, facing you.

You shook your head. "Don't ask me, I don't quite understand those two myself" you replied, drinking all your milk with one gulp.

Ginny was about to burst into laughter, so she filled her mouth with her mom's scrambled eggs. Ron, on the other hand, kept on staring at you, like he was trying to catch something you didn't say. Harry looked at you sympathetically but said nothing.

Even after breakfast, Mrs Weasley and Mr Weasley kept on arguing about their missing kids, and you were eavesdropping, in hopes to listen to anything at all that could contain important information.

"That's rude, did you know?" Harry's voice whispered. You looked back to face the boy that had a smile. He sat next to you on the couch while you closed the book you held in case you needed a disguise since that didn't work out.

"It's just... I'm worried" you confessed, unwilling to pretend. Harry was the one you used to tell everything, so why not this? He might be able to help you, anyway.

"They're fine. They got my invisibility cloak this morning, so I think it's some prank they're organising" Harry explained, pressing his lips together at the end of the sentence. He seemed more worried about you than the boys, and you thought that could only mean you didn't have to worry.

"You allowed it?" you asked, knowing how much that cloak meant to Harry.

"I owe them a lot. Besides, they'll return it to me." he shrugged.

You stared at your best friend for a while, not knowing what to say. One thing was telling him that you were concerned about the twins' escape; telling him that you might have feelings for Fred was a whole other.

Harry Potter sighed. "Look, I don't know how to say this but... I'm sure he feels the same"

His commentary caught you by surprise.

"What?"

"Fred Weasley," Harry said, like that explained everything. Noticing you were still very much confused, he added: "This mix of thing you're feeling, he's totes feeling the same"

You raised an eyebrow at that information. There was a reason for you to have been friends with Harry besides all the odds — you two understood each other in a level that no other two persons have ever. It was like that when you found him about to cry on your second year, and it was like that right now, with him staring at you as he knew of your secrets.

"Am I that obvious?" you asked, giggling nervously.

He smiled, sympathetic. "I don't think so 'cause he and Ron haven't noticed it yet"

"Ron?" you replied, perplexed, which caused Harry to laugh a bit too loud.

"Yeah... He thinks you plan on killing his brother or something" he revealed. "I don't blame him, you do look at Fred sometimes like you want to explode his head"

"Yes! Because he's so dimwitted!" your exclamation made you both burst into laughter, so much, you lost your breath.

It was good talking to Harry and realising your friendship was still pure and genuine, even if Harry's life was in danger all the time and you sounded like a spoiled child.

"Wait a minute" once you calmed down, a question popped in your head "When you say only Fred and Ron doesn't know about — hmm my crush, let's say — you mean that the rest of the family knows?"

"Well of course! George is even jealous of how much time you two have been spending together!" Harry said, leaning closer to you "Ginny thinks it's cute, on the other hand"

You glanced at him, with smirk "Ginny, huh? Talking to her a lot, are we?" He rolled his eyes.

"Don't be stupid" his phrase made you start laughing all over again.

***

When George and Fred finally showed up, the sun was almost gone.

Molly Weasley awaited for them close to the front door, holding somewhat of kitchen utensil, that you weren't able to recognize due to the distance.

You, Ginny, Ron, Percy and Potter were having a picnic outside. After the food was all eaten, Percy got back to his room, but the rest of you stayed there, laying on the tablecloth on the grass, watching the clouds and making jokes.

It was Ron that first saw his brothers arriving because he heard his mom's screams. To be fair, it didn't take long for all of you to hear her screams as well.

Ron desperately wanted to get up and be closer to the scene, but Ginny advised him it'd be better to stay. His mom could start punishing him too.

"WHERE WERE YOU TWO??" Molly asked, making herself heard all around the neighbourhood.

Fred had Harry's cloak on his hands, you recognized it, but he also had a bag in his hands that you didn't know what could it be.

George looked scared of his mom, so he was the first to talk. Although you couldn't hear him — differently from his mom, he wasn't screaming —, you imagined he was explaining where they went 'cause he held up to white plastic bags.

"YOU COULD HAVE WARNED ME! OR LEAVE A NOTE! THERE WERE SO MANY ALTERNATIVES!" Molly pointed out, making the twins duck their heads.

You could swear you heard they say "I'm sorry" and then she let them in. Not before exclaiming "After you come back from Hogwarts, you won't be allowed out of the house!"

You wondered if she was gonna remember that punishment once they were back.

"Where do you think they were?" you asked Ginny.

"I think they went to buy presents," Ginny said, not looking at you, still facing the house entrance.

"HA! As if our brothers would buy us anything" Ron had a weird face on and got up as soon as he realised the path was clear.

"I didn't say it was for us" Ginny replied, turning slowly to face you.

It didn't take long for the rest of the eyes to fall upon you too.

"Bloody hell" grunted Ron, before rolling his eyes and forcing Harry to leave with him.

***

Christmas Eve was an event of not much importance at the y/L/N household. Her mom would make the house-elves put on some decorations for Christmas, like a tree and maybe some lights, but that was that. They would have a bigger than the already big dinners the house had, y/N's parents would give her presents, and after that, they'd go to bed.

No hugging near the fireplace, no jokes about the holiday and no visit of the rest of the family to fill the house. To feel a bit less lonely, you used to ask the three house-elves of the house to eat with you at the table, however, they generally refused. To make it up, you'd leave after dinner to eat some cake with them in the kitchen.

All that way of celebration was nothing close to the Weasleys' Christmas Eve. After the twins' arrival, Molly Weasley put all the kids to work, instructing you where to put every single decoration she had stored, and she had a lot. Percy and Mr Weasley got responsible for the tree, and they did a pretty good job with it.

Ginny would make you laugh now and then because she used to stop decorating the walls to put the ornaments on herself.

Although avoiding each other, you'd lock eyes with Fred from time to time, you simply couldn't avoid it. To break the stares, Ginny would fake cough right next to you, in a way of calling out your attention. It helped, because, you were not in the mood to gaze at Fred.

Ok, it might have been you the one to run away after the kiss, but it was in the middle of the night. Besides, he was the one missing in the next morning, so, some part of your brain decided that he should be the one to talk to you first. The only problem was that he didn't seem ready to do so.

"Dinner's ready, kids!" Mrs Weasley called out for you all.

You followed Ginny, sitting right next to her like you had done it in the morning. Fred faced you, confused by your change of seats, but he didn't say a thing. Molly had prepared such a big feast that you were surprised she could have done it all on her own. Of course, the meal at your house was way bigger, but you couldn't blame her, she just didn't have house-elves for the rescue.

"It tastes like Heaven, Mrs Weasley!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your pleasure for the deliciousness that woman had prepared.

The Weasleys' mom smiled shyly, her cheeks turning red. "Well, thank you, y/N! It's nice to hear such a good compliment! You guys should learn with her."

The way she replied made you selfconscious. Ron immediately faced you, with an angry look, like you had ruined his whole life. Mr Weasley and Percy were smiling at your politeness, but you couldn't see because you were facing the only one you shouldn't.

Fred Weasley lifted his eyes from his food to you, trying to hide his smile. The truth was that he was really happy to see you hit it off with his mom.

"Oh, and dear, what did I say about my name?" Mrs Weasley said, forcing you to face her instead of Fred, which you were thankful.

"Sorry, Molly" you replied, using her name. She smiled back at you.

*** After everyone got full with not only the dinner but also the dessert, Molly cleaned the table without letting you get up.

"Wait, you fools. I want to give you your presents" she said, getting up from her chair. She got a plastic bag from somewhere behind her seat and started distributing what looked like handmade winter clothes.

"There you go, husband... Percy... Dear Ginny" she stopped herself to kiss her daughter's forehead. "Harry, I got you something too. As well for you, y/N, just let me find it" she sank her hand further into the bag.

"Oh, but there was no need, Mrs... Molly" you said, correcting yourself along the away.

"Nonsense" she returned, finally getting what she looked for from the bag. "Fred and George, here you go."

"Matching scarfs! Nice!" Fred commented, smiling to his brother. They wrapped the scarf around each other's necks.

"Now, we can look identical!" George added, making his mom roll her eyes.

"Here's yours, Harry" she gave Harry a black scarf, that had an 'H' in one of its ends. She turned herself at you, holding a golden-like scarf, much like the ones with the twins. "I had trouble with yours, dear. Ginny warned me you were coming at the last minute and..."

"Hey, no worries, Molly. You didn't even need to give me something!" you thanked her, interrupting her attempt of justification. She then let you get the scarf from her hands. You weren't wrong to think it was like the twins' one. It was one of the twins' one, Fred's actually because there was a big 'F' in one of its ends.

"I didn't realise I had already done one for Fred" she started, ducking her head, afraid of your reaction. "If you'd like, I can redo it until the end of the holiday, and, you know..."

"Molly, Molly" you interrupted, holding her arm, trying to calm her down. "It's ok. I like it this way."

"Damn right she does" Ginny muttered, and you kicked her under the table.

"Besides, I don't think Fred has a problem with it, do you, Freddie?" you asked, finally facing him.

He was caught by surprise, swallowing hard before returning with a quick comment. "The 'F' looks good on you" and then he winked, making you blush.

Mrs Weasley seemed relieved of the way you handled things and smiled to you. "I'm glad you are here this year with us. I'll hope you'll come next years"

"Oh, she will," Ginny remarked again just so she could win another kick of yours.

"I have presents for you all as well. I mean, I couldn't come without presents" you said, getting up. "Just wait."

You left to Ginny's room, so you could get the presents you had bought at Hogsmeade for all of them. You even had caught presents for Bill and Charlie, because you didn't know they wouldn't be there.

"You didn't have to, dear," said Molly Weasley when you got back to downstairs. You nodded, "It's almost nothing, I mean, I got you all some candy from Honeydukes", you smiled showing your teeth, "It's barely a present."

You started passing the candy to everyone since they were all the same, it didn't matter to who you were giving.

"Well, thank you," Mr Weasley said, causing your cheeks to turn red. He was a very poilite but quiet man, quite different from the rest of the family.

"I've got ones to Bill and Charlie as well, 'cause I didn't know they wouldn't come. Can you give it to them, Molly?" you asked, politely.

"Sure," she said, running her hand to your back.

"What about our candy?" Fred and George asked together, which caused the table to laugh.

"Well, I knew there were things more important than candy for you two, so..." you got the last items inside the bag you had in your hands, "Bilton Blimes told me these were things you have been looking for ages but were never able to find."

The twins looked at you shocked, both their mouths wild open, which caused you to laugh. "I'd say after this morning you guys don't deserve it..."

"They don't" an angry Molly Weasley commented.

"...but I wouldn't use it anyway" you continued, giving them their precious little toys.

Percy was the only one at the table that was not laughing at Fred and George's faces. Even Molly gave in, giggling a little.

"Now, off of here, I need to clean up" she ordered, probably desperate to hide her smile from her kids.

Mr Weasley stayed with his wife, to help her with the dishes, which you thought was too cute of him. Percy was the first to leave the table, followed by Harry, Ron and Ginny, they were playing with each other, trying to steal one another candy. You just rolled your eyes at them.

"Thank you, so, so much, y/N!" exclaimed Fred, walking in your direction, holding his little toy in his hands, unable to take his eyes off of it.

"Yeah, y/N, thanks! If my brother isn't keeping you, I'd gladly do it!" George said, laughing. Fred slapped his back, but the twin didn't even move. He left the kitchen faster, leaving you and Fred on the slow walk you two were doing.

You didn't want to be the first to talk, but you needed to say something. Fred seemed to be feeling the same, but he didn't open his mouth. When you were brave enough to say something, he started talking with you. "So I" you both started together.

You stared at each other, embarrassed. "You go first," he said at the same time as you. You looked at him, ashamed again, and then you both break into laughs. He touched you in your elbow, suggesting with his eyes to the stairs. You headed that way, sitting on the second step.

"I'm sorry I run away last night" you started saying, avoiding looking at his eyes. He sat next to you. He reached for your hands, leaving the present you had just gave him on the upper step. "I'm sorry I disappeared this morning."

You both stared at each other, taking in a moment to just stay in silence. Neither of you cared to say that it was ok because you knew that wasn't the problem. You weren't worried about the disappearance but worried about what it had meant. What the kiss meant.

"So..." you began but couldn't finish. You weren't brave enough to be the first to mention it and by the looks of it, neither was he.

"I... hm, I've got you something. For Christmas" he said, swallowing dry. "It's in my room."

You didn't know what he was expecting you to say.

"Come, I'll show you" he squeezed your hand, before getting up and helping you do the same.

He guided you through the stairs, without letting go of your hand. He stopped at the sight of a door — you supposed it was his — and opened it, slowly. "Sorry for the mess."

"No worries" you smiled because the room was actually cleaner than what you expected to see from the bedroom of the biggest pranksters of Hogwarts.

He had to let go of your hand to kneel before his bead, to get something that was underneath it.

"Here," he said, getting up. "Take it, it's yours."

You took the box from his hands, scared of what could be inside.

"It's not a prank, come on" he smiled, noticing you were afraid to open it.

You undid the lace, taking the cover of the box. Inside, your wand looked like as if it was just new.

"We swapped it" he pointed out, while you took your wand of the box. It felt nice to have it in your hands once again.

His wand, the one you've been carrying around all day was placed on your boot. You bowed to get it and returned it to the rightful owner. "Here you go," you said, trying to smile even though you were a little disappointed with his gift.

He giggled at you while getting his wand. "That's not your present, y/N. Look closer to the box."

After hs advise, you came upon noticing the box had a spell, probably the Undetectable Extension Charm. You reached further inside the box, trying to find whatever Fred could have hidden.

"It's a quaffle!" you exclaimed, getting the ball outside of the box. It looked new, its red appearance shining.

Fred giggled at your reaction.

"Why a quaffle?" you asked, confused with the quidditch ball chasers use to score. Yeah, you had learned a couple of things.

"Well, I saw how happy you get playing quidditch and I want you to keep on playing" he started, looking deep into you eyes "I like seeing you happy."

He shrugged like he had said something of the least importance. You stood on tiptoe so you could reach him and kissed him on the cheek.

He swallowed, his cheeks turning redder than his hair. "You'll keep on playing?"

"Of course! If you keep on being my teacher" you suggested, satisfied with your attempt of sassiness.

"Oh, you are a keeper" he commented, making you chuckle because of the double meaning of the sentence. It made you even happier once you realised that he might have been using the word's double meaning from the very beginning.

"FRED WEASLEY, WHERE ARE YOU?" you listened to a scream, probably coming from the living room.

"MOM, I'LL BE DOWN IN A SECOND!" he shouted back, making you laugh hard.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? IT'S ALMOST MIDNIGHT!" his mom shouted back. Fred rolled his eyes.

"I wonder if she noticed that I'm not downstairs as well" you pointed out, holding the quidditch ball with only one hand.

"Ginny must have covered you up, which I see George wasn't able to do for me," Fred said, his tone showing discomfort.

"Then, let's go. What are you waiting for?" you said, reaching for his hand to take him downstairs. It was funny, you tough, coping his mom's words.

"For this" he answered, taking his free hand at your waist, pulling you closer to him. The encounter of bodies made you let go of the quaffle, that fell upon the floor without any noise.

Fred leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. This time, there was no hush. You both have been waiting to repeat that for so long, that when it finally happened it was like the world had stopped just to let you two kiss in peace.

He embraced you tighter and tighter, and although, you needed time out for breathing, you didn't let go of each other.

You didn't know how long had passed when you finally got away from each other.

"Merry Christmas" Fred wished you, his voice a bit rough from the long snogging session.

You smiled at him.

"Merry Christmas, Fred."

#fred weasley #fred #fred and george #fred and george weasley #fred weasley gif #hogwarts #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #christmas #christmas imagines #quidditch #keeper #fred weasley imagine #fred and george imagine #the weasleys #harry potter #hp #hp imagines

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crying-mess-writer · 4 years

Text

Jealous

steve rogers x female!reader I

fluff ♡ 。• * I

warnings: a few swear words here and there, otherwis pure fluff I

request: ‘’#4 fluff “oh you’re just jealous” Steve Rogers please!? You’re an Avenger that’s best friends with Thor and Tony but Steve thinks you and Tony are a thing until someone else says you two are oblivious idiots. Thank you! 💙’’

a/n: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING! IT HONESTLY MEANS SO FREAKING MUCH TO ME <3 i hope this meets your expectations! I

prompt: (fluff #4) ‘‘OH you’re jealous!’’ I

summary: you’re best friends with tony, but steve is persuaded you’re more. I

word count: a bit over 1k I

Steve clenched his fist, transforming the cookie he was holding into crumbles. His eyebrows were furrowed, gaze intensely fixed on Tony and you. You were laughing at something stupid he had said, your head thrown back.

‘’Whoa, easy there, captain—you might set them on fire with that look,’’ Sam chuckled, bringing a glass of milk to his mouth.

Steve turned his attention to Sam. He opened his fist, revealing the smashed cookie. He groaned and started rubbing his hands together aggressively, making Sam take a step back.

‘‘Seriously, Steve, you’re perturbing me. What the fuck is going on?’’ Sam said.

‘‘Nothing. I’m just tired,’’ Steve answered, getting up. As he was about to leave the room, he heard you say, ‘‘Goodbye,’’, which made him curious. He turned around and saw you peck Tony’s cheek. His jaw clenched and he stormed out of the room.

***

After three hours of punching a poor punching bag, Steve entered the common room again. You were now at the counter, discussing something with Thor. Steve let out a breath he didn’t he was holding in and took the seat next to you.

‘‘Hey, (Y/N).’‘ he smiled at you.

You smiled back, ‘’Hey, Captain! I haven’t seen you all day! Where have you been?’’

Steve shifted nervously in his chair. Punching things imagining they were Tony. No, he couldn’t say that.

‘‘Had a headache, y’know,’‘ he gestured to his head, making you gasp a little.

‘‘Did you drink tea? God, Steve, I would’ve made you some if you asked,’‘ you said, exasperated.

He blushed lightly at the thought of you nursing him.

‘‘Oi, Captain got red!’‘ Thor announced, grinning.

‘‘Who’s red?’‘ Tony asked stepping into the room. Everyone greeted him.

‘‘Captain Rogers here. He looks like a very healthy crab!’‘ Thor said excitedly.

Every muscle in Steve’s body tensed, but no one really paid attention. You smiled brightly and laughed with Thor and Tony. Tony walked over to you and grabbed a toast from your plate.

‘‘Asshole!’‘ you huffed, slapping his arm.

‘‘You don’t mean that,’‘ he took a bite of toast, ‘‘Too dry. Anyways, I have something, hopefully, smart to do in the lab. Bye-bye.’‘

Tony kissed your cheek and waved goodbye to Thor and Steve. Thor waved back with his usual grin. Steve just nodded, not even looking at Tony. It hurt him. It hurt him to know that the girl he wanted more than anything had a thing with the millionaire. He wanted to be the one to kiss her and receive kisses from her. Instead, he was looking at them, jealousy radiating off of him. Thor and you continued chatting for a while when you excused yourself and left the common room. Steve looked at Thor and sighed.

‘‘They look happy, huh?‘’ he said.

‘‘Who?’‘ Thor asked, confused.

‘‘Well, (Y/N) and Tony, obviously,’‘ Steve answered, now confused as well.

‘‘Oh, yes,’‘ Thor nodded, ‘‘(Y/N) finally found the shampoo she’s been looking for forever and Tony got the results for his invention. Apparently, Rhodes tried to stop him, but you know-’‘

‘‘Thor. I’m talking about them as a couple. They look happy together.’‘ Steve said louder.

‘‘As a what?’‘ Thor deadpanned.

‘‘A COUPLE, THOR! THEY’RE A VERY FUCKING HAPPY COUPLE!’‘ Steve shouted, slamming his hand on the counter.

‘‘Oh. You’re jealous!’‘ Thor roared, grabbing his stomach.

‘‘I’m not-”

“People say I’m the oblivious and stupid one, but sometimes, Steve, you prove them so, so wrong,” Thor said, using a phrasing and vocabulary Steve never heard from him, “They’re not a couple, you dumb git.”

Steve gasped dramatically, “Who are you calling a git?”

Then, he registered the first part of the sentence. They’re not a couple.

“Are you serious? They’re really not a couple?” Steve smiled wider when Thor nodded.

“I had to persuade (Y/N) you’re not in love with Natasha a few days ago. You two are impossible,” Thor waved his hand.

“She really thought that?”

“Pretty sure she still does. Go tell her the truth,” Thor winked and shooed Steve away.

Steve ran off, leaving a happy looking Thor and his Poptarts.

***

“JARVIS, where’s (Y/N)?” Steve asked.

“In her room,” the voice answered.

“Thank you.”

At first, Steve tried to control his walk; but the closer he was getting to your room, his steps became more and more eager. Not really thinking it through, he knocked on your door.

“Steve!” you chirped, motioning for him to enter.

“Hey,” he greeted awkwardly, “You look stunning when your hair is wet.” His eyes widened. Shit.

“I mean, you always look stunning, but I really love the way you look with wet hair,” he rambled. Great, buddy. Not weird at all.

A blush spread across your face and neck, “Oh. Thanks. You look extremely good in this outfit.” Your eyes widened as well.

“Uh... well.... Thank you,’’ he smiled.

There was a long, tense silence. You played with the end of your shirt, not sure what to say. Not even sure if you should say anything. Then, from the speakers in your room, you heard two voices.

‘‘You can’t do anything yourself,’‘ Tony sighed from the speaker.

‘‘It’s exhausting!’‘ Thor boomed, from the speaker as well.

‘‘JARVIS, please, help the two,’‘ you could practically hear the smirk in Tony’s voice. A soft tune filled the room. You recognized it immediately. Very Lynn. As you were about to laugh your nerves away, Steve grabbed your hand and led you to the center of your room. He gently placed his other hand on your hip and brought your hand up, setting it on his shoulders. You got closer to him, faintly feeling his heartbeat. You swayed to the music, occasionally humming along. When the music stopped, Steve twirled you one more time and brought you back into his embrace. You looked up at him as to be sure it wasn’t all a dream. His lips curved into a smile, his gaze dropping to you lips. Your breath got stuck in your throat and before you realized, Steve’s lips were on yours. He gently cupped your face, making you relax in his touch. His lips were a bit chapped, but still delicate and soft. He broke the kiss for air, leaving you breathless in his arms.

‘‘We’re not going to hear the end of this, are we?’‘ he whispered, kissing the spot below your ear.

You giggled, ‘’Don’t think so.’’

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x avenger!reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader fluff #steve rogers #tony stark x reader #tony stark #sam wilson #thor odinson #thor odinson x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans

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velkynkarma · 4 years

Note

merry april fools day! what about a whump fic where Allura and Coran end up taking care of a bundle of sick humans in their paladins (plus whichever else of the humans are present on the Castle at the time)

You got it! This exists in a miraculous AU where Shiro didn’t die/disappear into the void, Keith still stays at the Castle, and the Castle still exists, because I Can. Also Kosmo is here for some reason, even though it doesn’t technically line up with any timeline. It’s silly sickfic, who cares about timelines, amirite?

———

Allura stares down at the box of recipe cards in her hands and wonders, not for the first time, how she got into this mess.

Well, she knows how, in the broad sense, at least. The team had liberated another planet to join the Voltron Coalition, and had taken part in a wonderful celebration the Kazenites had thrown in thanks. It had been a very nice party, actually. The food was positively divine, and the entertainment had been enjoyable. There had even been a parade, which had cheered Lance in particular immensely. Everyone had fun.

But the next day, everyone—well, almost everyone—had been bedridden, complaining of illness. And the symptoms were positively disgusting. Elevated temperature, mucus-filled noses that made breathing difficult, aches and soreness all over, harsh, wet coughs, and the...expunging of their innards.

The discovery had been frankly revolting.

But Allura was fine. Even Coran, who was an older Altean gentleman, and more prone to some illnesses, remained equally unaffected. They aren’t sure what the cause is—food that humans couldn’t handle, or perhaps a local pathogen on Kazenar—but it seemed only those from Earth had been affected.

It at least meant they weren’t helpless. Allura could wormhole them away if they ran into significant Galra opposition, or handle a smaller force with Coran’s assistance, between the Castle and the Blue Lions. But it did leave the two of them with five humans to care for—a daunting prospect at the best of times.

“Chicken soup,” she murmurs, repeating the phrase Hunk had given her. “Chicken soup…” She frowns. “What exactly is a chicken, and why would one make soup out of it?”

She wonders if it’s anything like the ‘cow,’ Kaltenecker. Perhaps they extract a liquid substance from these ‘chickens’ to consume as a health food.

The thought alone makes her feel sick to her stomach. She certainly hopes she won’t need to extract chicken-liquid. She will do it for her friends, if she absolutely must, but she does not look forward to the prospect.

It truly is a pity that whatever this illness is, is resistant to both her healing abilities learned through alchemy, and the healing pods. Those were the first things they’d tried, when they’d realized the situation was serious.

Unfortunately, the box of recipe cards Hunk had directed her to yields no answers. She had found the box in the kitchen easily enough. But the handwriting on each of the cards, presumably belonging to Hunk, is in a language she doesn’t recognize. She assumes this is some variant of Earthese, but she’s not familiar enough with the characters to be able to decode any of it.

She sighs in frustration, and sets the box on the counter, staring at the cards. Sadly, willing them to become legible doesn’t change anything.

“Why must it be chicken soup?” she mutters. “And why me?”

Well...she knows the answers to those questions too, really. Coran had already tried to make a big batch of terskargal for the paladins, the moment he and Allura had discovered they were all sick. The scent brought back fond memories of old dinners, cozy mornings indoors during the cool season on Altea, and moments of comfort when she had been sick ten thousand years ago.

Unfortunately, the humans had not taken to it so kindly. Shiro had reacted the most politely, in that he had simply said, “No thank you, really,” but his face had turned an interesting shade of green that Allura hadn’t thought non-camouflage based humans capable of. Lance and Pidge had been forced to suppress gags that had threatened to bring up whatever else might be in their stomachs. Hunk had thrown up, and asked why one would ever feed something that smelled so revolting to an ill person. Keith, by far the least affected of the group, had still threatened to throw his bowlful of terskargal out the nearest airlock.

Needless to say, it had not gone over well for a number of reasons. Allura is a little offended that something so comforting to her and her culture could be rejected so blatantly out of hand. But then again, they do also drink cow secretion and think it is delicious. Human taste simply cannot be accounted for.

But it did mean the humans blatantly refused to eat anything prepared by Coran, and they did need nutrients while they were ill. Which meant Allura had been recruited for cooking some variant of human food, in addition to her other caretaking tasks. Coran had instead adjusted to laundering fresh bedding for the humans, and working in the infirmary to synthesize a medicinal cure their bodies could actually process safely.

There is just one problem: Allura is not a terribly skilled cook.

In her defense, cooking was never considered to be a necessary skill-set for an Altean princess. By her tutors’ own words, she had excelled in acceptable subjects—history, military tactics, diplomacy, dance, crystal engineering, etiquette, piloting, energy manipulation, and advanced weapons training in multiple disciplines. Cooking had never been one of those important duties. As a princess, she was expected to have cooks for that.

Still, her friends are sickly, and she would like them to feel better. Sometimes, that means learning something new to heal, even if it is a monumental or difficult task. She will attempt to make this chicken soup, or die trying.

Even if it does mean milking a chicken.

She shudders.

She’ll have to interpret the cards, though, before she can do anything. Pidge had a working knowledge of both the Earth language and Altean. But Pidge was also—if Plachu’s recent mental message was accurate—finally dozing after emptying the contents of her stomach into a bucket for the third time in the last varga. Allura doesn’t have the heart to wake her, not until she has some working chicken soup to offer.

So she does the next best thing, and heads to the lounge to bother Keith instead.

Of the five humans, Keith’s illness is comparatively minor. Which is to say that he’s not throwing up as often as the others, and can maintain a coherent conversation without spinning off into delirious ramblings or passing out. Allura suspects his Galra heritage is giving him some degree of resistance to the illness, whatever it is.

It means Keith has also been her and Coran’s on-call expert any time they need to ask a question about human physiology, or their requirements while ill. After the fifth time they’d knocked on his door to inquire about how much hydration was strictly necessary or which remedies were most common on Earth, he’d finally rolled out of bed and muttered, “I’m just gonna sleep on the couch in the lounge. Less walking for you.”

It had, admittedly, made things a little easier for her and Coran in the long run. So there was that.

Allura finds him in the same spot as before in the lounge, sprawled out lengthwise on one of the couches. Coran had supplied him with several extra pillows and blankets, along with the things they’d so far discovered were important for human health when ill: a pouch of water, and a metal basin for when they inevitably threw it up. Allura is thankful to see that the pouch of water is three-quarters gone, and the basin is completely empty. Cleaning those out is...not an entertaining process.

It’s hard to tell if Keith is awake or not, as his head is currently sandwiched between two pillows. A light blanket covers him. So does Kosmo, who is sprawled out at full cosmic wolf length along the couch, wedged against the couch back and half on top of Keith. His long muzzle rests on Keith’s chest and his nose is buried in what is presumably a comforting fashion in the crook of Keith’s neck, just under the edge of the topmost pillow.

Allura can’t even begin to imagine how any of that is comfortable, but to each their own, she supposes.

Kosmo’s ears flick up as she approaches, and the wolf’s gleaming yellow eyes roll to the side to watch her enter the room. “Is he awake?” she whispers.

Kosmo snuffs, and flicks one ear.

She’s not really sure what she expected, really. They’ve had enough evidence to indicate the cosmic wolf is at least as intelligent as the average human being, but communication is not one of his strengths.

She sighs, but approaches slowly and gently nudges Keith’s shoulder. A congested, muffled snort sounds under the pillow, and then one of Keith’s arms slowly raises to peel it back. He stares blearily at Allura. “What’s wrong now?” he mutters, after a long moment.

“I’m sorry to wake you,” she apologizes. “However, Hunk has instructed me to make chicken soup. I’m not sure how to go about doing so, as the cards with the instructions aren’t in Altean.” And then, before she can lose the nerve to ask, “It won’t require me to milk a chicken, will it?”

Keith stares at her blankly for so long that Allura is afraid he’s grown as ill as the others. She’s been reliably informed that when human body temperature surpases a certain level of internal heat, human brain function can become unreliable. She’s already witnessed it in a few instances and can attest that it’s real.

She’s about to feel Keith’s forehead—this is also, she’s been informed, a reliable way to measure human temperature without an instrument on hand—when he shakes his head. “No. No...milking chickens. Ew.”

That offers at least some relief. Allura lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“Can you find the card for me?” Allura asks, offering him the box of recipe cards. “And translate it? I will do the rest.”

Keith grumbles under his breath, but dutifully starts to sit up after a moment. Kosmo helps by poofing off of his chest, and reappearing behind him, giving him a large cosmic wolf to help him sit upright against. “Alright. Fine.”

“Thank you,” Allura says gratefully. “I really did not wish to disturb your rest, but I did not see any other option.”

“S’fine,” Keith mutters, as he painstakingly opens the box of recipe cards, and starts flicking through them. It takes him longer than it should, which is a mark of the illness’ effect on him; Keith is normally quite dexterous and quick. The way he squints at each of the cards is certainly far from normal, too. “How’s everyone else doing?”

“Let me check.” Allura closes her eyes, and reaches out with her mental connection to her mice companions.

Keeping track of five human beings had proven a difficult task, especially with all of them ill to varying states, and with Allura and Coran required to perform multiple duties. To that end, Allura had come up with an alternative solution: assigning each of her mice friends to one of the paladins. With a mouse stationed in each room, the humans could be monitored consistently. If the mice thought there was a health concern, Allura could focus on that paladin immediately.

Keith was the exception, stationed in the lounge. But he had Kosmo, and Allura figured the cosmic wolf would be intelligent enough to hunt her or Coran down in the event his master took a turn for the worse.

The check in with the mice yields results fairly quickly. Chuchule reports Shiro sleeping fitfully and waking repeatedly from bad dreams. They will need to find something to settle him so he can actually begin to rest and recover.

Platt shares that Hunk is out of water again, which means Allura will need to stop by soon to replenish the fresh water packs. It is imperative the paladins stay as hydrated as possible or risk becoming sicker.

Chulatt is of the opinion that Lance’s temperature has risen, which has been a problem with their sharpshooter all day. Allura will need to prepare another cold compress to try and help bring his temperature down again.

Plachu reports no change from when Allura had checked in five doboshes ago. Pidge at least is thankfully still sleeping, although the basin she had been vomiting into will need to be cleaned out again. Allura can’t help but sigh.

Honestly. Human illness makes no sense. The slipperies make sense. Stomach parasites make sense. Quintessence weakness makes sense. Randomly becoming unable to breathe easily, overheating, and vomiting for this long, because of visiting a planet? Absurd.

“The same as before,” Allura says, as Keith stops slowly flicking through the cards to give her his best attempt at an inquisitive look. “After you find the card and translate it for me, I will bring them new supplies, and then begin cooking.”

Keith nods slowly, and goes back to his task.

It takes him about five doboshes, but towards the back of the box he finally selects one card and tugs it out. “This one,” he says, and reads out loud, “ ‘Mama Hunk’s Homemade Chicken Soup Recipe, space-ified.’”

“Excellent!” Allura claps her hands together once, and regrets it immediately when Keith winces at the noise. “I’m sorry, she says, contrite. “Please...just translate the instructions for me, and I will do the rest.”

She brings up a holographic screen linked to the Castle’s main database. Whatever she types up here she can easily reach back in the kitchen. She waits expectantly as Keith squints at the card, skimming it once.

“Ingredients’re listed first,” he says finally. “One cup of rice or rice equivalent—”

Allura’s heart immediately sinks. “Wait. What?”

Keith blinks at her, then slowly looks back to the card. “One cup of rice or—”

“No, no, I heard you,” Allura says, a little helpless. “But...a cup? As in, a drinking cup, full of a food item? And what is rice?”

Keith stares at her for a long moment. He blinks slowly, and Allura can almost hear his brain trying to process. Finally, he says, “This isn’t going to go as easy as you thought, huh.”

Humans. She is great friends with them, she respects them for their adaptability and survival skills and potential to learn and create so much.

But often, they simply make no sense.

———-

Allura is forced to take a detour from that poor attempt at decoding chicken soup to deal with her patients.

She makes her rounds with the paladins, dragging a hovering tray with her piled with supplies. She plies them with fresh water and herbal teas and little crackers and cajoles them to at least try them, checks everyone’s temperatures (higher than they should be, but not too dangerous), and cleans out the basins. The last is a truly vile task, but a princess should never expect her people to do something she wouldn’t do herself, no matter how abhorrent.

Some are better patients than others. Shiro wearily thanks her for her assistance and does his best to insist she doesn’t need to focus on him, which she politely disregards. Hunk is asleep by the time she arrives, somewhat thankfully, so he doesn’t have to hear what a debacle the chicken soup fiasco is. Pidge is mostly just happy to have the smell of her basin gone. Lance is possibly the worst; it takes Allura a full five doboshes to convince him to let her assist with a new cold compress and to measure his temperature, as he is, in his own words, “too ugly and gross to even look at right now.”

By the time that exhausting task is done and she returns to the kitchen, Keith is there.

He’s bundled up in one of his blankets and sitting haphazardly at one of the stools adjacent to the counter, with a pillow on said counter and his head flopped on the pillow. Kosmo sits dutifully by his side, attentive just in case his chosen human decides to pass out and collapse to the floor.

“I can help you figure out the soup,” he mumbles into the pillow. He sounds half asleep, but his grayish eyes manage to meet Allura’s as she stares at him, bewildered. “Never made it, but I know what it’s supposed to look like. Kinda. It’ll...it’ll look different with space ingredients, but. Yeah.”

This is one of the most talkative moments she’s ever heard out of Keith, and yet simultaneously one of his more jumbled sentences. Still, Allura is impressed.

Impressed, but not so sure this is a good idea. “You should be resting,” she chastises.

“Shiro and the others need the soup,” Keith argues. It’s less heated than his usual arguments to search for or protect Shiro and the others, but this is probably due to the fatigue and the fact that his stuffed nose makes him sound a bit distorted. “It makes you feel better. And you don’t have medicine yet, so we need the soup.”

Allura sighs. “I would be grateful for your help,” she admits. “But if you strain yourself too much, I will forcibly drag you back to the couch, if need be.”

“I’ve got a teleporting wolf,” Keith argues, a little petulantly. That is highly unusual, but probably another sign of illness. “I can come back.”

By the way Kosmo flattens his ears and half closes his eyes—an approximate summation of an annoyed expression if Allura has ever seen one—she has a feeling Kosmo will not be compliant with that particular rebellious attempt. She smiles understandingly at him.

“Alright,” Allura says. “Let’s try this again.”

Keith manages to explain, in between sniffles and coughs, that ‘cups’—along with ‘teaspoons’ and ‘tablespoons’—are a measurement system for dry and wet goods from one large country on Earth that Hunk hails from. Allura at least knows not to dump an entire drinking cup of food items into the pot she’s procured, but that doesn’t help her know what to actually measure.

Hunk has saved her in this regard, though. Keith produces a second card from the box. “Found this when I looked through again,” he mumbles. “S’got measurement translations. Like doboshes to minutes. But for food.”

That does help. Allura learns very quickly that it’s two quarzaks to a cup, a tablespoon is three quarters of a sestent, and a teaspoon is half of a glurzark, and after that everything makes a lot more sense. She finds the measuring materials that Coran had pulled out for the terskargal earlier, and from there it’s mostly a matter of translating Hunk’s bizarre recipe into sensible measurements.

Knowing what foods to use is a little trickier. But Keith eventually spots a large piece of paper taped to the fridge, and when Allura brings it to him, it’s a list of food equivalents for easy reference. She now understands, for example, that ‘rice’ is an Earth food, but that Hunk has determined it’s comparable to boiled teslak grain.

After that, it’s just a matter of properly parsing the ingredients, chopping them into smaller pieces, and carefully measuring. That part is simple by comparison. It’s a lot like rudimentary alchemy, and she had always enjoyed her father’s early alchemy books.

In the end, the pot on the stove bubbles merrily with some Earth concoction. It doesn’t smell as comforting as Coran’s terskargal, but it’s not unpleasant, and there was—thankfully—no need to milk any chickens, as Keith had promised. The chicken, as it turned out, was the shredded and boiled meat of the creature on their homeworld. Although it had been replaced with alkecha bird in this case, which Hunk had determined had a similar nutrition content.

Kieth dozes against the counter, face mashed into his pillow, with Kosmo’s muzzle resting gently on his knee. He hasn’t been needed for the last half a varga, now that Allura has an understanding of what she’s doing, but now is the moment of truth. She ladles some of the soup into a bowl, and nudges Keith’s shoulder gently. “I believe it’s done. Would you give it a try?”

Keith blinks awake. Allura places the bowl and spoon on the table. Keith gives it an experimental stuffy sniff before scooping up some of the vegetables, broth, and shredded blue meat, blowing to cool it, and giving it a try.

“Well?”

He considers. “Think it’s okay,” he says, after a moment. “Had to tell with my nose stuffed. It’s not that other stuff Coran tried to feed us, though—”

“—terskargal,” Allura supplies helpfully.

“—so I think the others could stomach it,” Keith finishes.

It’s not exactly glowing praise, but Allura will take it. “Thank you for your help,” she says, smiling. “I’ll leave the bowl for you—please try to eat it, and then go lay down again. Kosmo—make sure he does both of those things. We want him to feel better, too.”

Kosmo takes his muzzle off of Keith’s knee and offers her a flick of the ears and an almost human nod. Keith mutters to himself tiredly, but pulls the bowl closer to eat.

Allura fills several more bowls and sets them on a hovering tray, along with more water and other supplies the team might need. The mice haven’t reported anything alarming, but it never hurts to be proactively prepared. She leaves one of the bowls on the floor for Kosmo, who gives her an appreciative wuff of thanks before sticking his nose in it, and then pulls the tray after her to the paladin’s quarters.

Hunk is the first stop, for the real test of her cooking capabilities. Allura knocks and lets herself in at Hunk’s weak acknowledgement, and smiles sympathetically at the human flopped uncomfortably in bed. “I used your recipe and created some of that chicken soup of yours,” Allura says. “Would you like to try it?”

Hunk’s eyes light up. “Do I!” he says. “Mama Hunk’s recipe is good for the stomach. Keeps you fed and from throwing it up again.” And based on how wan he looks, he certainly needs the nutrients. All of them do—they’ve been throwing up all quintent. Keeping down even a little bit will do them all wonders.

“It’s my first time cooking it,” Allura says, as she sets one of the bowls and a glass of water on a smaller floating tray. “You’ll have to let me know what you think.”

She helps Hunk sit up, propping him with several pillows. Hunk is not at his strongest, but he does manage to take a spoonful of soup, blowing it on it carefully before trying. He swallows, considers, and finally says, “For your first time, it’s not too bad. Way better than that other stuff Coran gave us.”

That does seem to be the general opinion. Why, Allura will never understand. Terskargal has got to be better than this.

“I’m glad it is acceptable,” Allura says, smiling, and keeping her true thoughts to herself. “Will you be okay to eat while I deliver the rest to the others?”

“Sure,” Hunk says. “They should definitely all get some.” He sniffles uncomfortably, but then helps himself to another spoonful of soup. “It’ll definitely help everyone feel better. Good healthy stuff in here.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Allura says. “I’ll be back to collect your dishes in a little bit.”

The next varga is a busy one, as Allura delivers the rest of the soup, helps everyone sit up and get acclimated, and supervises in the cases where her patients are a little too wobbly or disoriented to be left with a hot bowl of liquids alone. The mice, thank the ancients, are invaluable in monitoring the process, keeping her updated on everyone’s status as she rotates room to room. By the time she’s finished making sure everyone has eaten and hydrated, collected the dirty dishes, refilled on water, cleaned out basins again, and made a mental note of which paladins’ sweat-dampened sheets need to be changed by Coran (something that does make sense to her as an Altean), she’s exhausted.

Keith, at least, is no trouble. She swings through the lounge to check on him, on her way back with the dirty dishes. He’s sound asleep again on the couch, with Kosmo once more stretched out atop him, nose snuggled into Keith’s neck. His empty bowl has been left neatly in the sink, and Kosmo’s is out of the way on the floor, licked clean.

Allura wearily collects the dishes and sets them into the automated cleaner. The rest of the soup is still kept warm on the stove, ready if anyone else needs it. She’ll need to check in soon with Coran on his progress, but for now, everyone is as cared for as can be, at least for the moment.

Really, caretaking is so much work. Especially with five humans to look after. She has much more appreciation for her mother, and for Coran, and the servants of ten thousand years ago. But she’s proud of herself, too, for being able to handle it all. Who would have thought looking after five sick paladins would be more exhausting than an entire Voltron battle?

At least she’d done it, and everyone had looked marginally better after the soup. No one can ever say she wouldn’t do anything for her friends. And she hadn’t even been required to milk a chicken.

Thank the ancients for small favors.

#Velkynkarma writes #Voltron #Allura #Keith #Hunk #Kosmo #space mice #the rest are there too but just kinda mentioned #sickfic #April Fools 2020 #Anonymous

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joshslater · 5 years

Text

A Week in Indiana

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I was exhausted. It’s weird, because on long haul travel you have done nothing but relaxing. First on the initial connection, then at the airport, then at the trans Atlantic from Amsterdam to Chicago. I even napped a bit on it. Since that flight follows the earths rotation, you basically land at the same time as you start. Queues, immigration, wait for luggage, customs, relax some more at O’Hare. Finally followed by a decidedly less comfortable regional flight to Indiana, wait for luggage again, and out. And there he was, looking even better in person than he had on Skype the day before, waiting to pick me up. He was younger than me, but acted confident, cocky even. I like that.

- Hi there. How was the trip? - Long. I’m exhausted, like I said I would be. - It’s not far.

Americans have no idea what that word means. It wasn’t until an hour later we finally parked in his driveway. We had so much to talk about, but I made it perfectly clear that my mind wasn’t were it needed to be right now for anything serious. I quickly went online with my phone to cancel the backup hotel night I had, keeping some nights for the end of the week if things didn’t work out. Then I zoned out for most of the trip to his house.

- Let’s put your stuff in your room, head out for a bite and then you can go to sleep. - Head out? - I ain’t cooking.

The house was spacious living for a single dude, and probably the tidiest it been in a long while. Not that I paid much attention, as tired as I was. I would had preferred to just crash there and then, but I know from experience not to go to bed too early, or you’ll just wake up at midnight.

- Hey, can I get you something to drink? Coke, beer, water, absinthe? - A coke would be great. It’s dry in air planes.

A big, cold can of coke felt exactly like what I needed, despite the corn syrup. Rehydrated I carried my bags to the guest room, which doubled as a home gym. It’s silly, I know, but despite being so tired I found it kind of hot to be sleeping in a room where someone else had been working out. Well, I guess that’s the kind of shit we have in common, and the entire reason why I was here.

People really undersell the sheer amount of confusion when you wake up after having been drugged. Especially when you have been moved and things have been done to you. You didn’t plan for it, like going to sleep, and you have nothing to fall back to when you wake up to orient you. Everything around you is out of context. In addition to that, you still have residual effects and possible traces of the drugs in your system.

It’s impossible to estimate how much time it took to get a grip of the situation, but gradually I was aware that I was naked, tied to a bed, gagged and unable to see, possibly because of a pitch black room.

- Did you sleep well?

How long had it been? No way to tell. I feel like shit. I can feel him touching my naked chest. But that means he can see me, right? Why can I not see?

- I thought I would surprise you with a little transformation for yourself. This is the garage by the way. It’s not quite soundproof, but I don’t really need that, do I.

I don’t know what kind of gag he is using, but I can’t move my mouth in any direction. It feel like he had put some clay-like plastics into my mouth, had me bite into it, and then have it harden. I want to scream. I don’t want any piercings or tattoos or whatever. I shout that whatever his plans are, I want out. The best I could muster was an agitated hum.

I feel something cold against first my left nipple, and then both. Some sort of gel. Then some object is put there. Are these suction cups? Then a motor sound starts and I feel a rhythmic suction on my nipples. Guess they are.

- You should just relax. I don’t know anything about hypno, and you said it doesn’t work on you, but just so you have something to listen to I’ve downloaded a few things.

He puts earphones on me with the typical nonsense with multiple voices all talking over each other that all hypno mp3 files are so fond of. Then I feel him doing something with my gag, and a small trickle of fluid at the back of my throat, and then everything gets fuzzy.

- And here is something to keep you stupid. Enjoy the ride.

I’m too tired and drugged to analyze what is happening. I’m swimming in black velvet soup of words. I should relax, I’m told, be calm and follow instructions. I’m barely even aware I have a body, but occasionally the senses intrude into the bliss and I can feel the suction cups removed, more cool gel applied, and then the cups put back. Everything just gets softer and softer until everything ceases to be.

There’s no audio anymore.

- Hello, sleepy beauty. Are you ready for something solid to eat? - Yeah...

Wait? When did he remove the gag. Why can’t I see?

- Just be still, and I’ll remove the IV.

I could feel the short sting of an IV needle being pulled out, and felt him bandage the arm. What did he put into me? Where did he get an IV from in the first place?

- Now, just be still while I undo the restraints.

Any kind of resistance would be pointless. I was naked, in an unfamiliar room, and completely blind. I just followed along with his movements as he released my arms and legs. He then helped me on my feet and led me from the garage and through the house.

- So, I’ve prepared an outfit for you. Just put it on and we are ready for dinner. It’s all your size. Now, be very still and I’ll remove your black contact lenses.

So that’s what he had done. He was way better at removing them than I think I would have been, had he just asked me to remove them myself. As I blinked in the light I saw I was back in the guest room. My bags were no where to be seen, and on the bed was a small line up of clothes.

I turn to the mirror and see myself, but instead of my normal hairdo my head is almost completely shaved, save for a few millimeter Mohawk. Secondly, and more concerning, my nipples are huge. Like finger tip huge. He’s observing me from the door.

- Cortisone cream and a modified milking machine, and a few tricks. They will shrink a little bit, but not much. You’ll look like this from now on.

I don’t even have the energy to yell at him. If it is permanent, as he say, screaming doesn’t help. I need to get away from him before he can do whatever else he has planned for the week. It’s only day.... Actually I don’t know how long it’s been. One day? Two days?

- Just get dressed, and we can be on our way. Bring the ID so we can take a beer as well. - OK.

I look at the items laid out for me at the bed again, next to my passport. One black tank top with white hem in some sporty mesh material with the text “PUMP!” printed on the front. Blue, short adidas polyester shorts with white stripes. White, calf high socks with two black rings at the top. Black adidas shoes with white stripes. The only things missing for a stereotype bingo is a whistle, glow sticks and some molly.

No underwear, apparently. I put on the shorts. Like hell “all your size”. The shorts are tight and doesn’t leave my dick size to anyone’s imagination. Socks and shoes go on fine. I brace myself and put on the top. My tits feels like sparklers, shooting nerve signals all through my body. I can feel the tight shorts getting even tighter. I feel slutty.

On the way to dinner he is quite chatty. Talking about the buildings and neighborhoods we drive by, as if he hadn’t drugged and violated me for hours, perhaps days. He is casually dressed, Levis’ jeans and American Eagle polo. Still he manage to outclass me by an order of magnitude. Dinner is at P.F. Chang’s, so not at all fancy. Still I feel like everyone is looking, and judging. Everyone we pass on the parking lot, through the mall, at the front of house, on the way to our table. Everyone can clearly see my tits and my dick through the fabric. My haircut practically shouts for attention. My clothes even more so. And it’s not like I’m part of a group that has dressed up, or down. I’m lead here by someone dressed normal. A regular dude and his slut.

Sitting down feels better, with a table hiding my lower body, but it still feels like I’m in public in just underwear, having two flashing tits.

- Hey, relax. Calm your tits.

It was such a cheesy joke, I exploded in laughter. He’s right of course. It’s not like I’m hurt or massively disfigured. Most people will never even see it, once I’m in decent clothes. No one around me knows me, and I’ll never see them again. This is me experiencing something I could never have set up myself. Besides, I can’t really do anything about my situation except flagging down a cop, so I might as well enjoy it. I ordered the Dynamite Shrimps, the Singapore black pepper chicken and a steady flow of diet coke.

Man, was I hungry. It was tasty and I even managed to relax, though my tits kept rubbing against the mesh fabric, keeping me semi erect. And every time someone passed by, I got a twinge of feeling exposed, feeling “slutty”. We chatted a bit about ourselves, kind of how I had imagined our first real meal would have gone. When we were both done we asked for a refill and the bill. I managed to hide it, but I got quite the shock reading it. It said Tuesday. I arrived Saturday afternoon, so I had been drugged for three whole days! I don’t think he noticed my shock, because he leaned over and asked me, in a hushed voice “Are you ready to leave, slutty fuckboi?”.

Right away my dick throbbed into almost fully erect, and it was very close to pump custard into the shorts. Of course! The fucking hypno loops! That’s why I have been so docile since I woke up. “Slutty fuckboi” and “Calm your tits” were trigger phrases. Tits?! They are nipples. I’ve even been conditioned to refer to them as tits. I’m sure there are some programming about feeling self conscious and “slutty” as well. Who the fuck does he think he is! I must escape right now!

- Almost. I need to go to the boy’s room first. - I bet you do. You drank quite a lot.

I need to walk through two thirds of the restaurant to reach the restroom. Again I feel like I’m under dressed, overexposed and it would be hard to miss my raging erection in the hilariously tight adidas. I keep a fast but calm stride. Running would just draw even more attention.

I even have a hard time pulling down the shorts. They are almost locked in place by my swollen deadbolt. I stand feet together, slide the shorts straight down and turn to the sink to chill my dick in cold water. After the erection is gone I take a leak, pull up the shorts, and that’s when I feel the passport in my pocket. I had almost forgotten about it. I still have a reservation at the hotel. My credit card is on file and I have an ID to show. It must be within just a few miles, and if anything I’m dressed for exercise.

I don’t have a phone or a watch, so I don’t know exactly how long it took, but I guess about two hours to sneak out through the other entrance, ask mall information on the location of Holiday Inn, walk there without Google Maps, manage to check in with a receptionist who clearly didn’t approve of my attire, and have a lie down in bed. I should call Amex and have them block my credit card and send a new one to the hotel. Should I call him and tell him to send my bag here? Would it be risky to let him know where I stay? Would it be risky to even talk to him? That’s when the phone rang.

- Room 304. - Calm your tits, bottom boy. Isn’t it time to continue your transformation? - Yes, it is. - Cool. Pick you up in half an hour. - OK.

Shit. I’m broken.

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mrneighbourlove · 4 years

Text

Fall of a Dynasty: Ch 5. God of War

There was a mountain of pancakes at the table. That could only mean one thing. There was good news. Eleonora eyed the breakfast and the additional guest. Manaco was here, and it had been a long while since she had seen him. Griffith was glaring at Manaco. Athena was flustered and kept her gaze downward.

"... did you knock you up, sis?"

"Eleonora!" Annuciata chided her daughter. "That is not appropriate at the table."

"What? It's just a question, I mean, Grif is glaring at him. Won't stop glaring at him."

Zannah laughed. I didn’t take long for Eleonora to dry her happy tears and clean up after seeing the Twins in a more recovered state. “No, no my dear. Athena just hasn’t had a slumber party if you catch my meaning before with another male.”

“Mother, please, that’s embarrassing. No little sister. We did not ‘do the do’.”

"Then why does Grif look like he wants to kill him? Who pissed in his orange juice?"

"Eleonora!"

"What?! Grif asked me that one time when I woke up grumpy.”

Griffith huffed, drinking down a glass of juice. “Tell me Manaco. What was all the noise you to had to make in the middle of the night then?”

"A pillow fight started by your sister. That I won, by the way." Manaco shot Athena an amused look, loving how this was bothering Griffith. "Feathers everywhere."

"And you didn't invite me?" Eleonora pouted. "That sounds fun!"

"Eleonora, Manaco and your sister wanted some time together."

"So?"

"So, what I mean by that is, Manaco and Athena are to be wed. They will become the next Emperor and Empress of the Kikai Empire."

Athena decided to drown her growing anxiety with pancakes and syrup. “I don’t think you wanted to be up when that demon snake was around.”

"... demon snake?" Eleonora looked even more intrigued, taking a long sip from her drink.

"Don't even think about it."

"I didn't even say---"

"I know you're going to ask for tissue samples to study and the answer is no. You're not going anywhere near him."

"Speaking of 'him', where is he?"

"... somewhere." Annuciata groaned slightly, knowing that the snake was exploring the castle, but keeping hidden.

“He’s unnerving, I won’t lie.” Zannah thought to use this time to discuss ‘friendly’ topics with Annuciata. “Did you know that he’s friends with Prince Ralnor and Princess Leere? Seems fitting.” Zannah didn’t even hide her disdain for the princess.

"There is something... off about him, I swear it." Annuciata did heard the bitterness in her lover's voice. "If he's friends with them, then I do not see how they have put up with a being like such for this long. Not to mention, if they know about him, they I'll wager the entire royal family does too."

“You think Hyrule has any more monsters in their closet?”

"I don't think it's a matter of if there are more, my love, I think it's a matter of if they are... for lack of better phrasing, not going to eat anymore." Annuciata finished her pancake and then said, "I really need to brush up on my Echidnan history. Not much is known about them, but still, any little bit helps---!!!"

Bonegrinder's long tail extended from the ceiling and stole a plate of pancakes. The Anagari was lounging... on the chandelier.

"This old snake will be happy to answer any questions, as long as they're not about the size of his dick."

"Bonegrinder!" Manaco scolded. "There are ladies present!"

“What is the matter with you? What kind of-” Zannah too, was furious by his comment. Especially with the talk of dicks in front of Eleonora. “You’re exactly the kind of foul creature I’d expect to live with the likes of those Gerudo men and Leere. Your manners are disgusting!”

"Oh, Bonegrinder does not live with the Gerudos nor the tiny princess," The Anagari unhinged his jaw and swallowed the contents of one plate whole, before returning the dish to the table with his tail. "And he only said such due to being asked before by others. You don't see this old snake asking how the sex was between you and queen blondie last night, do you? A common question in Omisha, but evidently not here." He then took the entire pitcher of orange juice with his tail as a drink. "So, when is the big day?"

"Oh... my..." Eleonora's eyes were as wide as the moon. "He's... that... that thing is huge!!! How does your body move like that with the caloric demand? Wait, how did you get so big? You do magic? What do others like you look like? How many years do you---"

"Goodness, chatty, are you, little one?" Bonegrinder chuckled. "Curious, are you?"

"Yes, very much so, I've never seen one of you!"

“Oh here we go...” Zannah rubbed her temple. “Bonegrinder, can’t you start your end of the bargain on the other half of our deal? Go on resonance or something?”

The fireplace flickered as Zannah took a drink of milk to wash down her food.

“You don’t have time to answer all her questions.”

"Oh, he did that last night." Bonegrinder finished off the orange juice and returned the pitcher. "The culprit is none other than your brother in the flesh, raised by one of Maker's children; Exodrum."

“Excuse me?” Zannah started to choke on her milk, white liquid staining the corners of her mouth as she coughed. “That’s quite the claim. What-cough-proof can you have?”

"If you do not believe this old snake, why don't you ask the part of Exodrum inside of you?" Bonegrinder shrugged, not wanting to debate her disbelief. "If not, he could always ask Vatra since she and Exodrum... get along, in their own way."

“I don’t think---” Zannah’s chocking suddenly turned ugly. Her chest burned, and she keeled over on the table. Immediately, both the twins were alarmed.

“Mother?!”

"Zannah, what's wrong?!" Annuciata bent down to touch her lover on the shoulders and yanked her hands away with a hiss. Just that light touch nearly scorched her skin.

"Hrm... been a while, hasn't it, old friend?" Bonegrinder slithered down the column supporting the ceiling from the chandelier. "Years and years..."

A black rock came out of Zannah’s throat, and from that rock the Silhouette of a man made out of pure fire the size of a giant towered over the gathering in the room. Its voice was low, yet carried when it spoke. And it was not happy. “You are a grand disappointment to me Zannah.”

The growl of an angry wolf boomed, and all the light in the room was generated around the avatar. Exodrum eyed Bonegrinder, and gave a snarl. “I see you ally with fallen gods, spirits and monsters Zannah.”

"Is that supposed to be an insult?" Bonegrinder grinned widely as the spirit spoke. "If he wished it, he could wipe you from existence. You know this, and so does he. Is that how you address your Maker?"

“This is how I address a snake who lost his family to war. This is how I address Bonegrinder, the coward who fled. Should I dare begin Maker’s failures in his war with Destroyer and Chaos. A war which the prize was a love you lost?”

Exodrum’s animal growls grew as he pointed at Annuciata. “This little creature is the one you love so much that you’d happily throw away the title of Emperor for? This little kindling? I could burn her so easily.” When Exodrum saw how terrified the Queen was he felt satisfied. “But I’m not here to punish her. I’m here to punish you Zannah.”

“On what grounds?” The Hasai did her best to position herself between Exodrum and the rest. Didn’t know what she could do to protect them though.

“You didn’t take more power when you pulled Kahli’s flame from him. You haven’t turned the Waku you breed from him into full killing machines. You allowed the Zemalji’s wench to undermine you in front of your people. My people. Worse, you allowed yourself to fall so far that you willingly gave the Empire away to Hyrule. To the land of the damned Goddesses. In short, you lost your fire for power. Do I sense objections from you mortals?”

"Bonegrinder and Maker are one for now, little flame." The Anagari flicked his tail back and forth menacingly, ready to strike if necessary. "Chaos was subdued, yet escaped his prison somehow. It wouldn't surprise this snake if you had something to do with it." When the fire spirit threatened Annuciata, the Anagari's eyes narrowed into slits. "You do not threaten innocents. Leave her out of this. Zannah made a deal with this one, and only this one. Say what you need to say and then go before he decides to throw you into a prison."

“But she made a pact with me first, little reptile. Now Ocho. You will not make the game so easy. If you truly believe that your path is what is needed for the Hasai, then you will not lend your power for an easy victory. Finally, Zannah, I deem you a failure. My gift, is no longer yours. Look into yourself. You’re such a welp you most likely didn’t feel it right away.”

Zannah indeed felt her power within. There was a void where there should have been warmth. “I...”

“Am nothing. Your godly magnified gift is gone. You are what you were as a child. I should strip you off all fire; I would have if it wouldn’t make the game dull. You are now only a spark, tiny as Vatra. I am interested to see how this civil war plays out.”

"Hrm, Vatra won't appreciate you insulting her." Bonegrinder tapped his tail on the floor. "He is sure she will send her remarks later."

“You’re no god little Reptile. Not anymore. You or your brother. But I look forward to seeing you try to reach those celestial heights again.” Finally he pointed to the Hasai, a cruel laugh echoing him. “Do well to entertain me. I look forward to family killing family. Hahaha!”

The fiery silhouette exploded outwards, cinders pelting Bonegrinder and Zannah as they shielded others. With that, the war god was gone.

"Hrm... Bonegrinder is beginning to think that perhaps Exodrum was one of Destroyer's children, and not Maker's." The Anagari brushed the cinders off his shoulders. "That deity is a dick."

Zannah frowned, comforting her frightened lover. She knew what needed to be done of her now. “I’m so sorry. But I need to go.”

"Go? Where?" Annuciata was latched onto Zannah like super glue, her grip so tight, it'd leave marks on the woman's skin. "No, no, no, no, no. No. Absolutely not. You're staying here. Right here. It's safe here... minus the big snake."

"Aw, thank you, insinuating Bonegrinder is dangerous, hehehe." The Anagari appeared to be flattered. "What a compliment."

"Where?" Manaco looked concerned. "Don't you think you need to attend to your daughter? Your son? We still need to discuss many things."

“We do. Griffith and Athena will stay here where it is safe for the time being. Bonegrinder will take Manaco and I back to his mothers. There, we will discuss with Zarazu and Rinku an immediate assault against Nihilus.”

Griffith looked a little pale. “The Demonic Dragon?”

“It has to be. If we don’t deal with him now, Exodrum might grow bored and give him an advantage.” Zannah tried to loosen herself from Annuciata. “You can let go now. I need to see this through.”

"Assault? Hehehe, you mean to actually fight him in your state, green lady?" Bonegrinder chuckled. "You know you will not win. You know, Bonegrinder could just eat him. He's done that before."

"Wait, I thought you said you didn't eat people." Manaco did not like the ex-empress ordering him around.

"No, not unless he feels like it. But he has in the past."

"... lovely." Manaco grimaced. "I am staying with Athena."

"And I'm not letting go, you're finally here and safe, I don't want you to go." Annuciata told Zannah. "We finally are together..."

“Annuciata.” Zannah didn’t like to do this to her, but she spoke in a low, commanding tone. Using her physical strength, she physically pulled herself out, but then clenched her hands around the Queen’s arms to keep her in place. “If Nihilus is alive, he could obliterate an entire continent. He almost did that very thing to Danjur long ago in the war against Hyrule. It’s my responsibility to stop him. I might not have the power of a Demi-God anymore, but I’m still a fighter. I wouldn’t go alone. And, when I come back...” She gently massages her arms to reassure her. “I can come back to you and grow old with you.”

"... I finally have you here after all these years and I don't want to lose your now. There's no guarantee that you will return." Annuciata tried to fight back tears. "All this craziness of deities and power and magic, I don't want anymore of it! I just want you and our family. That's all..."

Zannah held Annuciata’s head close to her throat, breathing softly. “I’ve never broken a promise. And I vow to you I’ll be back in less than three days. I promise you that.”

"You better... damn it, Zannah, why now? When everything was finally getting better..." Annuciata sighed, feeling trapped. "Our family is better, you can stay here and... soon enough, we'll have grandchildren."

At that remark, Manaco choked on his drink. Athena stiffened at the thought herself.

Zannah smiled. “Many. Alright then. Griffith, Athena, I hope you’re ready for your first visit to Hyrule. If Manaco insists on staying with his wife, then she’ll come along with us to your mothers.”

Manaco suddenly stiffened, realizing he had not told his mother about the 'happy news' of his upcoming wedding. "Oh Vatra and Zemlja help me, she's going to throttle me..."

“Bonegrinder. A portal to Hyrule if you may?”

Bonegrinder used his claw to rip open a portal, showing the destination right outside Zizi's and Kahli's house. "This old snake is going to check on his own children, then he will join you later."

Zannah gestured to the portal, ready to take her family with her. “Fine by me. Manaco darling? Lead the way.”

________________________________________________________________

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/614060759069130752/fall-of-a-dynasty-ch-4-a-family-made-whole

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/614950440660074496/fall-of-a-dynasty-ch-6

Crossover with @ridersoftheapocalypse

#crossover #ridersoftheapocalypse #Exodrum #Hasai #Lorleidians #Zannah #Annuciata #Bonegrinder #Zizi #Rinku

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fortunatelylori · 6 years

Text

Rage-kitten Jon time

*this meta includes graphic depictions of violence. Redear discretion is advised

A while back, during a conversation with @kitten1618x, she asked me to talk about the rage-kitten Jon scenes. I’ve been pretty busy the past few weeks so I didn’t manage to get to it earlier but … a tumblr always pays her debts.

Here is the original message:

I would love to hear your take on the rage-kitten jon scenes: especially the one in the crypts, as it really did nothing to further the narrative if Jon is just a “protective big bro” (the audience already knows this) and the beach scene with Theon.

I’ve already discussed the Theon scene in my “Why the romance between Jon/D*ny doesn’t work” series so this time around we will be talking about the crypt scene between Jon and Littlefinger.

However, in addition to that, we will also be taking a trip down memory lane to that most satisfying and heartwarming of moments in season 6 when Jon beat the living crap out of Ramsay Beelzebub Bolton.

That is because these two scenes are inextricably linked in my mind and together set up and support the romantic undertone that permeates all of the Jon/Sansa scenes.

Bear with me … I have receipts.

After the season finale, when I re-watched both season 6 and 7, I came back to these two scenes time and time again. The way Jon walks over to Ramsay, stone faced, murderous anger bubbling beneath the surface, the way his face twitches when LF says he loves Sansa as he loved Catelyn ... I was struck every time by just how certain I was that I had seen this before somewhere and how romantic motivation popped into my head every single time I watched them.

And then, one fine day, it finally dawned on me. I HAD seen this before, hundreds of times. Twice a year, in fact, from the time I was about 12.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give to you the one … the only … possibly my favorite film of all times …

Now, if you have not seen Goodfellas, what the hell have you been doing with your life? I mean it! Got watch it right now!

For those of you who have seen it … it’s brilliant, right? Now that I’ve mentioned it, don’t you want to go back and watch it again? I know I do. I just looooove watching Joe Pesci violently murder people. What can I say? I’m a romantic, like that …

That being said, I see you all scratching your heads thinking what the hell Goodfellas has to do with rage-kitten Jon. So please indulge me in an experiment and look at the scene where Henry finds out that his girlfriend, Karen, was sexually assaulted by one of her neighbors:

youtube

I think you can see the basic gist of what I am talking about but let’s analyze the similarities more in detail. I’ll probably only ever going to get one chance to talk about Goodfellas and Game of thrones in the same meta. You can bet your last dollar I’m going to milk it for what it’s worth!

The “Jon makes all of our dreams come true” scene:

youtube

The first beat that is eerily similar is the slow walk both Henry and Jon do towards their opponent. Even their expression is about the same which is … they have no expression. Their entire focus is on what’s in front of them:

The stone face in cinema is always a telltale of someone going in for the kill. Both Bruce and Ramsay are goners. They just don’t know it yet.

Then there’s the actual fight … I mean, it’s not really a fight … it’s quite frankly a down and dirty whooping that both Jon and Henry dish out, complete with the both of them throwing their opponent to the ground:

This has nothing to do with the meta, but every time I watch this beat I laugh thinking of people saying how shockingly revolutionary violence in GOT is. Scorsese was doing long before them and, quite frankly, doing it better. There’s not one cut in that whole beat. You’re essentially a prisoner of the camera.

The other thing these two scenes have in common is a bit more subtle and requires a larger view of both these characters. Because leaving aside the different time periods, dragons and wardrobes, what both these scenes show us is the violence that these men are capable of.

In Goodfellas, up until this point, the audience has seen Henry as the hero, the good guy. We’ve been lulled into liking him because of his charm, good looks and intelligence and also because he’s always surrounded by psychopaths that kill and hurt people on a whim while he’s stuck being the voice of reason.

So just when we’ve become comfortable with this interpretation of the character, Scorsese gives us 10 veeery loooong and veeery painful seconds of Henry’s unhinged brutality. We can’t hide away from the truth anymore: he’s a thug just like the rest of his “associates”.

The GOT scene is less elegant in its message and perhaps a bit less effective but it essentially tells us the same thing. Jon has been dabbling with violence ever since he left home but we have never seen him be so brutal or so out of control with anyone. Now we know that if you push him hard enough, you’ll find the monster hidden beneath. The fact that it’s Sansa that sparks this revelation, just as Karen does for Henry, is just icing on the cake, really.

The other intriguing thing is that both these scenes end with a relationship set-up between Henry and Karen, as well as Jon and Sansa.

In Goodfellas, this is a patently negative and foreboding event. Henry and Karen have been established as the young, attractive and in love couple, strolling around town and going to the Copacabana for drinks, wearing the latest fashions. But in this scene Henry hands her the gun he’s just used to bash a man’s face in and asks her to hide it. When she accepts, she becomes his accomplice. And that dynamic pays off throughout the rest of the film, as we see Karen smuggle illegal drugs for Henry in prison, accompany him to meet Colombian cartels and flush drugs down toilets as the police descends on their house.

In GOT, the implications of this scene are far more positive. Because Jon does the exact opposite to what Henry does. Far from making Sansa an accomplice to his violent tendencies, he stops himself when she shows up because he doesn’t want her to see him as a monster.

As other Jonsa fans have already mentioned, the creators here employ the “calm to his storm” trope and that’s a very potent storytelling device. Because love is a powerful emotion that can make us behave in extreme ways, both good and bad. But at its best, love compels us to be better, not worse. And that’s what Sansa does for Jon in this scene. She reminds him of his inherent humanity. And that’s pretty damn beautiful.

However, I don’t think we’ve really gotten a proper pay off of this trope and the dynamic that it establishes between these two characters. I suppose you could argue that the battlement scene does that by having Sansa apologize for keeping Jon in the dark about the Knights of the Vale and they end up resolving their trust issues.

Except that season 7 shows us a Jon and Sansa that are still struggling with their relationship, the two of them still sending each other mixed signals and we never get a proper explanation as to what makes them clash as they do.

Add to that the Theon scene where once again the “calm to his storm” trope is brought to the fore and this whole confusing dynamic between them feels like a dangling plot thread that needs to be addressed in season 8.

The “Non-platonic thoughts about Sansa are not allowed in Jon’s presence” scene:

youtube

The obvious thing that this scene and the Goodfellas scene have in common is the dialogue. So let’s talk about that. You all know how attached I am to my dialogue:

Henry: I swear on my fucking mother, if you touch her again, you’re dead!

Jon: Touch my sister and I’ll kill you myself.

Now, Henry is a little more verbose and he does take his own mother’s name in vain but you know … he’s half Irish and half Italian. It sort of comes with the territory. But the message is clear: Touch Karen/Sansa and Henry/Jon will kill you.

This phrase of: touch … and I’ll kill you is used a great deal in dialogue for both visual and written storytelling but the important common thread here is the sexual context in which they are both used.

Bruce, Karen’s neighbor, is beaten up by Henry because he tried to rape Karen. So “touch” in that context is unquestioningly sexual in nature.

The Jon/LF is even more loaded because Littlefinger hasn’t actually done anything as terrible to Sansa. Sure, his longing stares, double-entendres and creepy kisses are more than a little problematic, but they’re not in the same league as what Bruce did to Karen. And yet, just the thought that Littlefinger might approach Sansa in that way and that he might touch her in a sexual manner, drives Jon mad.

Also, as others have mentioned, Littlefinger prods and twists Jon for quite some time until he snaps. He talks about his father’s bones, his love for his father’s wife and even brings up Catelyn’s dislike for him, something that probably bothers Jon even more than being called a bastard. And yet, even though it’s clear that Jon doesn’t like LF, he still manages to keep his emotions in check.

The moment he starts losing it this:

Littlefinger: If it weren’t for me, you would have been slaughtered on that battlefield.

Now, people simply take it for granted that Jon dislikes Littlefinger because of what LF has done to his family. But Jon doesn’t know most of what LF has done. He actually doesn’t know much of anything about him. Except this:

Jon: You told me he sold you to the Boltons.

Sansa: He did.

Jon: Do you trust him?

Sansa: Only a fool would trust Littlefinger.

So his sole reason for disliking this man is because of what he did to Sansa. I would suggest that LF bringing up the Battle of the Bastards is yet another reminder for Jon that she had to bring this man there in order to save him.

But then LF, in his desire to find what moves his enemy, ups the ante and boy, does he find out what moves Jon Snow:

And this where that feeling of familiarity strikes me again. I don’t know if Kit Harrington went to the Liotta school of seething rage, but these two facial expressions look very similar to me:

Kit should totally take, at least, the expression class at the Liotta school by the way. No one does crazy, out of my mind psychopathy quite like good ol’ Ray.

The last thing we need to address is the reason why this scene is even included. Unlike the mirror scene in season 1 where Ned chocked LF, where the resolution was LF’s betrayal, there is no direct pay-off to this scene and there never will be. LF is dead and his downfall has nothing to do with Jon.

As @kitten1618x pointed out in her message, it can’t be to show us that Jon is protective of Sansa. That was already established in season 6. We’ve seen him beat Ramsay to a pulp and we’ve also been given this gem:

Jon: I will never let him touch you again. I’ll protect you. I promise!

We’re also going to be given a fresh dose of that in his scene with Tyrion.

There’s just so much of the “Jon is an overprotective older brother who protects his totally platonic but in need of protection sister” shtick we can watch before we start questioning exactly why Jon is so invested in who “touches” Sansa.

I would argue that, considering basic scriptwriting structure as well as the pattern that is established between Jon and the men in Sansa’s life, the pay-off to the Jon/LF scene will come in season 8 and it will have nothing to do with LF and everything to do with the Jon/Sansa dynamic.

PS: I call dibs on red for the wedding. It’s my favorite color, you guys! You have to give me that!

* none of the GOT gifs belong to me.

#my got meta #jonsa #jon x sansa meta #jon snow #sansa stark #goodfellas #littlefinger #jonsa meta

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whaleyoufeedmenuggets · 5 years

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Im too lazy to look at the questions so DO ALL OF THEM. (if you dont wanna then go on a random number generator and get 5 random numbers)

ITS REALLY LONG BUT I DID IT KJSHADJS HERE GOES i love oversharing my lifealso im putting a read more line bc its hella long

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

water bottles

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

ehhh depends on my mood. i’d say it’s (dark) chocolate most of the time (love that 70% dark chocolate mmMmMm)

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

cotton candy!! except when it gets all over my face and hair o no

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

common report book comments included

- very active

- bright

- “the live wire of the class”

- usually distracted but still does well

- mischievous

- playful

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

bottles so that i can close it and save the rest for later and not have to chug it yeet

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

sportswear #sweatpantsalldayeveryday

7. earbuds or headphones?

def headphones but they’re inconvenient sometimes :/

8. movies or tv shows?

tv shows!! (also, my adhd ass can’t get through a movie without zoning out oops)

9. favorite smell in the summer?

i haven’t experienced /real/ summer (thank u singapore’s tropical climate) but i rly like the smell of rain :”)

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

making up excuses to skip pe

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

belvitas before morning practice

croissant sandwich and chocolate milk after practice

if there’s no practice, then scrambled eggs from the dining hall lolol

if i’m too lazy to go to the dining hall, then cereal

12. name of your favorite playlist?

it’s literally called jams and the description is “a clusterfuck of stuff i’ve jammed to at some point”

13. lanyard or key ring?

key ring

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

gummy bears/sour patch kids

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

death of a salesman - arthur miller

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

with one foot up on the chair and the other leg sitting normally

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

a pair of asics sneakers

18. ideal weather?

15ºc/60ºf when its like cool but not too cold but also not ridiculously hot and also when theres no insane wind (a light breeze is fine)

19. sleeping position?

on my left side and hugging a pillow/bolster/soft toy

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

i like the feeling of pen and paper but im disorganized as hell so an apple pencil + ipad makes a good enough substitute

21. obsession from childhood?

frogs (i’ve loved them since i was 3 hehe)

22. role model?

a dude i used to train with for a while in 2014. he retired last year but he’s always looked out for me like an older brother since we trained together (he’s 8 years older than me lmao) and even thought i’m so far away rn he still checks in on me and stuff and idk he’s probably one of the swimmers i respect the most.

23. strange habits?

i cant fall asleep at night if im not hugging something. like. it could be a pillow. or a soft toy. literally anything. once on a school trip i hugged a pair of sweatpants to sleep bc i legit cant fall asleep if im not hugging something.i have no problem falling asleep in class/on buses/cars/planes though.

24. favorite crystal?

idk i never really paid enough attention to crystals to actually have a favorite and know their names. they’re all rly pretty tho.

25. first song you remember hearing?

uhh h h i honestly can’t remember. probably some classical music bc i played the violin and that was my first experience of music that i was actually aware of????

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

switch on the aircon and take a nap / sit in bed on netflix/playing on my nintendo switch. and swimming outdoors i guess.

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

switch on the heater and take a nap / sit in bed on netflix/playing on my nintendo switch.

do u see a pattern here

28. five songs to describe you?

jet lag - simple plan (bc time zones suck and i miss my fam & friends)

avalanche - bring me the horizon (pretty much sums up how tf my brain feels)

high hopes - p!atd

astronaut - simple plan

the reckless and the brave - all time low

29. best way to bond with you?

doing dumb shit with me

also Quality Time™️ like idk even if we’re chilling and doing our own shit i like just spending time with people im comfortable enough with

30. places that you find sacred?

idk

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

a hoodie and sweatpants

for no reason other than that’s what i wear 90% of the time

32. top five favorite vines?

I AM CONFUSION!!! AMERICA EXPLAIN

this bitch empty. yeet.

im in my mom’s car VROOM VROOM

the one of that dad playing the saxophone (???) and the kid slamming the oven door open and shut

road works ahead “haha yea sure hope it does!”

33. most used phrase in your phone?

either lmao or lolol or LMFAO or yeet

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

gOD i had spotify ads stuck in my head all the time before i switched to premium and now i cant remember any of them (thank god)

35. average time you fall asleep?

i’d say 12:30-1ish

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

the tROLL FACE MEME LIKE those rage faces idk what they’re called but BASICALLY THOSE 2010-2012 era memes

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

suitcase!!! i like sitting on them and yeeting myself around on them or getting people to push me around and then falling off

38. lemonade or tea?

lemonade

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

ngl i havent had either of them before

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

so in jc2 (aka 12th grade), for some reason PEOPLE WERE PUTTING PRE-PACKAGED HARD BOILED EGGS ALL OVER THE SCHOOL. like they were still in their wrappers and all but u could open ur schoolbag and find like 5 eggs in there. and no one knew where they came from. i think at one point there were even eggs hanging from the pull-up bars. all i know is that they were everywhere and people in my batch still remember it as the egg invasion of acjc.

41. last person you texted?

my mom

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

def jacket!!! especially when they have zips hehe

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

hoodie

44. favorite scent for soap?

idk man depends on my mood

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

sci-fi bc im a fricken nerd

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

shirt and sweats

47. favorite type of cheese?

cheddarrr also i like mozzerrella sticks

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

a fineapple B)

lmao jk ummmm maybe a watermelon bc when u hit it it sounds hollow, just like how my skull would sound if someone hit it (h a)

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

here for a good time not for a long time

never give up without a fight

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

idk probably some dumb meme. i laugh at a lot of stuff like i laugh anything even mildly funny. some that i can think of off the top of my head are:

- i was tryna type ducky but typed fucky instead and sOmEOnE (could be the person who submitted this ask, idk tho) changed my facebook messenger nickname to fucky and the notification was like ”poopy butthole changed your nickname to fucky” and i think that’s still the funniest sentence i’ve read in my whole life

- one time we went to mcdonalds and a friend said mcfluffy instead of mcflurry and idk why but i laughed so hard at that

- once @doduo and i spent half a chinese lesson cutting out random faces from the chinese newspaper and sticking them randomly all over the classroom and idk. it was the funniest thing ever. until the teacher came over and confiscated my scissors rip.

51. current stresses?

- an essay draft (that i am procrastinating rn by doing this, oops)

- CANADIAN TRIALS (but thats a good kind of stress)

- submitting a proposal for a group project but none of my groupmates are freaking replying my texts ugh

52. favorite font?

avenir next!! i find san serif fonts way easier to read than serif lolol.i like helvetica neue too.

53. what is the current state of your hands?

dry af but also i just got my nails done so they pretty rn hehe

54. what did you learn from your first job?

i…havent had a real job yet

55. favorite fairy tale?

idk i was never rly one for fairy tales even as a kid.

56. favorite tradition?

chinese new year when we get CASH and we spend 3 days just eating junk yEET im rly sad im gonna be missing it the next few years tho

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

hh h h hh hhh hh hh they’re pretty personal i don’t /really/ wanna put it out here but i can text you the answer to this if you want (i’m perfectly fine with that!!)

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

- i think i’m pretty intuitive!!! i can guess anyone’s mbti if i’ve spent enough time with them/gotten a detailed enough description of them /winks/ and i can read people pretty well in general and i can draw links to themes/symbols in lit pretty well….???

- i’m somewhat decent at lettering…i think

- i’m good at pull-ups and also vertical jumps i’m secretly a froge

- i’m decent at photography…i guess….

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

yeet

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

pokemon !!

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

/sweats/ i’m not very good at remembering lines from books/movies/shows WELP

62. seven characters you relate to?

JAKE PERALTA - b99

rosa diaz - b99

linguine - ratatouille (he’s permanently confused and he let a ratto take over his job bc he had no idea what he was doing like damn what a big mood)

dory - finding nemo/finding dory (i relate to the forgetfulness)

percy jackson

kale bae /winks/

mitt (during bad phases) /winks again, but sadly/

63. five songs that would play in your club?

idek man i wouldnt even be at my own club i’d be at home taking a nap i’ll just ask someone else to handle my playlist

64. favorite website from your childhood?

club penguin !!!

65. any permanent scars?

yE one of them was from jumping onto a treadmill going at 13km/h 2 years ago bc i thought i was a good idea

66. favorite flower(s)?

i dont have any

67. good luck charms?

i eat pancakes for breakfast on meet days!!!! altho i think this is more of a habit than a good luck charm tbh lmao.

also i guess pip???? he’s my emotional support narwhal :’)

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

durian. i cant stand the stuff or anything flavored like it ugh.

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

red food coloring is derived from beetles

70. left or right handed?

right

71. least favorite pattern?

overly-floral patterns i guessssss. also i hate wearing stripes.

72. worst subject?

chinese

besides that, math and physics

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

i rly like vanilla ice cream and fries

also i would eat ketchup with nearly anything

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

i usually just suck it up and go to sleep when it comes to pain but i guess an 8??? idk. i usually take advil/ibuprofen only for fevers

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

i got my first loose tooth on january 11 2005 and it fell out on january 18 2005 & it was a tuesday (pls don’t ask me how i remember this bc i dont know)

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

tater tots

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

cactus i guess. idk im not good at plants.

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

grocery store sushi (it was pretty decent in singapore so yeeeee lmao also i ate a lot of that as a kid)

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

its the same photo for both so yeAh

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

earth

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

idk i always called them fireflies

82. pc or console?

console I LOVE THE FEEL OF BUTTONS

83. writing or drawing?

drawing (more like doodlign for me bc i cant draw for shit)

84. podcasts or talk radio?

neither but if i rlllllly had to choose then podcasts i guessss s sss

84. barbie or polly pocket?

neither LMAO i gave all my barbies haircuts when i was a kid bc i didnt know what to do with them

85. fairy tales or mythology?

mythology for sure!! i love greek mythology (may or may not be bc of percy jackson lolol)

86. cookies or cupcakes?

87. your greatest fear?

losing those i love and care about (could be drifting or actual death it goes both ways)

88. your greatest wish?

rn, for my essay to write itself

for the short-term, to make the olympics (and WUGs…and worlds…and sea games…and asian games…and commonwealth games lmao)

for the long-term, uhhh idk. i just wanna live a life i’m satisfied with and to have a job i actually like and to be able to support my parents

89. who would you put before everyone else?

my mom

90. luckiest mistake?

i always say that i regret doing a year of college in singapore instead of coming here for freshman year but if i’d come in a year earlier like i was supposed to, i proba wouldn’t have made it past swim team tryouts and i made some pretty great friends in my first year of college soooo it all worked out i guessi cant think of any others rn

91. boxes or bags?

bags

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

fairy lights are rly pretty!!but i like natural light :”)

93. nicknames?

deb

debs

debo

debbo

alpha childuhh h h i think thats about it??? i cant remember any others

94. favorite season?

spring’s pretty great rni like fall too (before it gets cOLd)

95. favorite app on your phone?

insta/tumblr/telegram

96. desktop background?

a photo of me looking rly cool at the starting blocks before a race B)

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

4 - mine (singapore & US), my mom’s and my dad’s

98. favorite historical era?

uhh h h idk the ice age seemed pretty cool haha sike it was actually coldmedieval times seemed pretty cool too like damn i want a suit of armorWHEW I SPENT WAY TOO MUCH TIME ON THIS but i had fun so yeet

also if you read all the way down here ily and you’re cool

#ask #this was hella long #but also hella fun

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sally-annesstories · 5 years

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Day 4 - Mexico City, Mexico

1. Woke up semi early ready for the day ahead. Packed my bags (was tricky to get everything in this time around!) and hopped in an Uber to my accomodation for the next 3 nights. When I got there the lady said it was ready for check in so then went up stairs which took a while. 15 minutes later she was back and the room wasn’t ready and wouldn’t be for at least an hour (not an issue, I wasn’t expecting it to be ready till 3pm). Was a bit of a bugger though as by then I’d missed the time I needed to leave by for my walking tour. Instead I made my way to the historical district (where the tour was meant to take place - I rebooked for the arvo session) and just had a wander round. I don’t know if it’s an every day thing or Saturday’s specially but everyone was washing the path in front of their shops and stalls. Some of the shops with concrete floors even has people scrubbing them inside too.

2. I then ended up at Mercada de San Jose a market nearby. I love markets though it is tricky when you don’t speak the language. Every stall you go past is busy and they’re trying to sell to you and while I don’t know much Spanish I find I know even less when I’m trying to remember any word quickly and under pressure! This one guy was really friendly though and gave me this small fruit to try. It tasted a bit like mango and I was in heaven. I guess this was his ploy as I then purchased a bag of fruit from him. Admittedly his stall was beautiful so I probably would have either way.

3. I did a walking tour of the historic centre in the afternoon. I was expecting a big group but only myself and one other girl showed up. The guide was faint in voice compared to the bustling streets though so this might’ve been for the better. He took us all round the historic centre. There’s so much to see and learn in Mexico City. Not relevant to the historic area but there are over 159 museums! So I’ve got 5 days here so doubt I’ll be getting through all of that! Part of the walk saw us go past some amazing looking food options (!). I took photos of the signs to go back afterwards but in hindsight I should’ve screenshot the map. Most didn’t exist according to google later and the one that did I walked to and it wasn’t the right place or the right food. One the walking tour we ended up on a street that had 1000s of quinceanera dresses for sale. They were running for 15,000 to 20,000 pesos ($1.2-$1.6k) and were big puffy and beautiful. It was tricky to have my phone out on the tour but if I find it again I will take a photo.

4. My most interesting experience of the day, to me, happened following the walking tour. I had sat down in a square deciding what to do next when a young girl came up to me (with mum in tow) and asked if I spoke English. I said yes. She then asked if she could ask me a few questions for a school project to which I said yes (but to be honest in the back of my mind I had a wee panic thinking I may be about to be mugged because of how gypsies distract you in Europe). Anyway she then proceeded to ask me if I know what depression is, if I thought children could have it and so on before it became too scientific. She then thanked me for my time and went on her way. Afterwards I thought i realised in hindsight I should’ve offered to help with her English and sentence structure. There were a couple of sentences in her questions (they were written down) that weren’t phrased how a fluent English speaker would speak. So if it happens that a random child asks me for help with school homework again I’ll be sure to improve my help (turns out this is common and they go to tourist areas just for it!).

5. The other girl on the walking tour had asked about Horchata (a Mexican rice drink that both Mexicans and Spanish claim to have invented). The guide had then said to go to La casa de Tonó for it so this is where I ended up for dinner eating chicken Sope and drinking Horchata. Both were amazing. The drink I enjoyed way more than I thought I would, though I don’t mind drinking milk so this is probably why. Sope is a corn bread topped with meat and veges. Mexicans are super into condiments (same!) so then dressed it with all the chillis. I’m getting way too confident in that at the moment.

Tally:

People spotted wearing sunglasses: 4 (why does no one wear them here??)

Bottles of water drank: 4

A street in the historic area / came across China Town on my wanders / Fruit at the market / Sope and Horchata

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followmeeastward · 6 years

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ONE MONTH DOWN!

One month. As of today I have been at my permanent site for one whole month. It’s insane to think of how quickly everything is already going. It seems just yesterday I was arriving in this country and meeting my fellow MM3s. Now I am finished with 2 months of training and my first month at site. And I’ve loved every minute of it. I would be lying if I said that its all been smooth sailing, for these last few weeks have been more difficult than not. But it is and continues to be one big learning experience. Here are just a few snapshots of the many things I have learned in the last four weeks:

If You’re Going to Breastfeed, Do What You Need to Do. This is something I have found so interesting. While in America right now this a taboo topic, with women struggling to find when is an “appropriate” time and place to do such an act, in Myanmar they just do it whenever. I have been in two separate occasions where the room I am in is crowded with thirty or more people and I turn around and someone has a kid strapped to their chest. They don’t let this natural thing disrupt their conversations or other happenings in the room, it is just something else that’s going on. One of those times, I was having dinner with some of my Myanmar friends and she brought her baby with her. Her baby started crying and while she was talking with us, she just lifted up her shirt (no bra) and her kid starting drinking his milk. Whereas I feel if this was back in America, my friend might’ve excused herself out of the room or at least pulled out a blanket to cover her exposed chest. Nope. Not here.

The “When You Finally See Another American That Isn't Peace Corps” Excitement! I didn’t think I’d be so excited to see another American only after one month of site. It wasn’t even so much to see another American but to hear another native english speaker, and not know who they are or what they’re doing in Myanmar. But when I went into Yangon with my counterpart, it got to be a game, to see how many foreigners I could point out. I only saw one. But it was a funny moment. Here in Myanmar it isn’t common to say “excuse me” when moving through a crowd, so when I saw that we’d have to squeeze past a fellow American, I subtly just said “excuse me” to him. Out of natural reflex he responded with the same phrase, then I could see on his face the realization of what I had just said. He immediately looked up we made eye contact to which we both just smiled and gave a small wave. The man will forever be a stranger but it was so fun to hear a familiar voice in a crowded shopping mall.

Good communication is and should be a test of patience. The biggest thing I have learned in my first month is that things will work itself out in due time. Unlike back in America, quick results have proven to be almost non-existent. Especially with a language barrier, it is sometimes hard to convey feelings without coming off as arrogant or ungrateful. This was proven when there was a misunderstanding between me and my principal about what the rules are when it comes to my safety. She was under the impression, that I was allowed to walk outside of my house just not without a chaperone, also that any leaving of village was absolutely not okay with out confirmation of all of the village’s higher authorities. This proved itself to be very stressful, because if I wanted to even walk to school, I had to call someone to come pick me up. I didn’t want to make a bad first impression so I went along with it. After three weeks of this routine and me subtly dropping hints about how I felt to my counterparts, I finally asked them if they would talk to my principal for me. There was a bit more to it (message me or call me for details), but in the end everything worked itself out. It was a struggle that began week one, with me being afraid to hurt peoples feelings but at the same time hurting my own. But after using that stretch of time to build relationships with these people I was able to use several of them to help me navigate through this maze, and to come into week four with the ability to walk alone.

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boomboxblue · 7 years

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My Milkshakes Bring All the Boys to the Yard

A Klance Oneshot (featuring Kaltenecker, of course)

Just a little thing I wrote up, inspired by the milking scene clip from NYCC. No warnings to report, just silliness and some fluff.

AO3 Link

----

"Uh, guys? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Lance blinked in confusion as the two Alteans stared at him like he had five heads. Coran's nose was wrinkled and his eyebrows all drawn in, his mustache twitching up with the expression. Allura was wide-eyed and pale, throat moving with a silent swallow as she held her hand in front of her mouth in shock. In the awkward few seconds that followed, the cow behind him gave a soft moo and Lance moved his fingers self-consciously against the surface of the glass of milk in his left hand. Allura and Coran looked at each other for a moment before Allura cleared her throat and couldn't seem to meet Lance's eyes anymore. Coran opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it and closed it again. Lance frowned, holding the glass of milk in his right hand toward the pair.

"You did ask for a milkshake, right?"

Finally, Allura spoke, though her voice was faulty and her smile was sheepish and clearly forced. "Um, on second thought, Lance...I think we'll pass on the milkshakes...I have to...go do something. Yes."

Coran nodded a bit too vigorously than necessary. "Yes! Indeed. I must also attend to...important things! See you later, Lance!"

Before Lance could respond, the two left the room and he was alone with Kaltenecker. He sighed and stared down into the glass of milk in his right hand, leaning backwards against the flank of the cow. It wasn't as if he was really all that bothered with leaving his game to come do this for the princess, but he figured it must seem a little strange of a custom to the Alteans who have no concept of how cows work. For goodness sake, they tried to negotiate verbally with Kaltenecker, as if that would work. Lance chuckled a little to himself and sipped at the milk with a small smile. It was a bit too sweet and had a strange sort of aftertaste to really classify as the same thing, but the familiarity of it was a small comfort. A pang of homesickness twisted in his chest and the smile on his face dropped as thoughts of Earth flooded from the back of his mind once more. Maybe, he thought as he glanced at the cow, watching her chew slowly, maybe he'd relax here for a little bit.

----

The other paladins had their own ways of relaxing during the sliver of downtime they could afford. Hunk and Pidge were off in the hangers messing with some new invention to help extend communication distances between the lions. Pidge had been excited to work on it more, as it was at a point nearing completion, and Hunk was more than happy to assist. Shiro had suggested that instead of training, Keith should relax and focus on sharpening his mind rather than his body. The two of them had gone to the common room and discussed a few things about handling Black before Shiro waved off the younger paladin, insisting they stop talking shop for a while. Keith was leaning back on the sofa, in the middle of cleaning his blade from the Galra with a small cloth, when Allura burst in, causing both paladins' heads to whip up. She was huffing, face drained of color, and looked out of sorts. Immediately, he senses went on high alert and he stood from the couch, pocketing his knife, but Shiro beat him to the punch.

"What's wrong, Princess? Are we being attacked?"

Allura shook her head, placing a hand on her chest and regaining her breath before answering. "Y-Your Earth customs are strange! Is it normal to squeeze...to t-touch the dangling bits of Kaltenecker and...and fluid to come out? She did not seem bothered at all, but it was so...it was so horrifying to watch!"

Keith's eyes widened in recognition and confusion, not sure what to say. Shiro seemed to be struggling to contain a laugh as he eased off the sofa and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Yes, that's how you milk a cow. I wasn't aware you were practicing such a technique." he said with a grin.

Allura's head shook once more, her composure slowly returning.

"N-No, Coran had discovered the existence of milkshakes after speaking with Hunk and we wanted to try them. After several attempts with negotiating with Kaltenecker, we weren't sure how to proceed and asked Lance to help us out. He showed us the proper way to do it and...oh goodness, I still can't imagine that is normal."

"Wait...Lance milked Kaltenecker? He knows how to do that?" Keith cut in, suddenly.

Allura frowned slightly at the phrasing. "Is it a task not all humans are capable of?"

Shiro shrugged and explained. "Typically, the only people who really know how to milk cows are those who have been around them or grew up on a farm. Not all humans are familiar with it. I have to say, it's a bit surprising that Lance knows the right way to do it; I hadn't pegged him as a farm type."

Shiro cast a glance toward Keith. After the trials Keith had gone through with the Blade of Marmora, he had been aware of Keith's past growing up on a ranch with his father. They hadn't deemed it necessary to talk about with the others.

"Oh, I see...I suppose Lance is a man of many talents." Allura mused, though still clearly uneasy about the idea of cow milking.

Keith excused himself from the room as Shiro began speaking with Allura about Blue to change the uncomfortable topic. He caught a glance of her face lighting up with a smile as he ducked out, glad that Shiro was able to distract her. There was something more important to get to the bottom of now that he knew this interesting tidbit about Lance. Since when was Lance a farm boy? How on earth had he missed this? Come to think of it, for all the times Lance wouldn't shut up, he never mentioned anything about his family or how he grew up. The topics were always more frivolous and carefully skated around any serious matter, save for the rare times Lance would want to discuss something important. A picture of the other's dejected expression as he walked into Keith's room and the way his voice had been so uncharacteristically quiet and fragile flashed in Keith's mind and he quickly stuffed that back down where it belonged.

Heading down the corridor towards the room that had once housed Alfor's memories, Keith approached the door and placed his hand on the panel to open it. Artificial light flooded his eyes and the view of the fake sky and grass field revealed itself. It had been handy having the capabilities to simulate a place where Kalenecker would feel at home, even if they were far from any actual open fields. In the center of the room, Keith spotted who he was looking for, dressed in a nightgown and sitting on a stool beside the cow in question. He strode over to Lance, catching the other's eyes as Lance lifted his head when he heard Keith's footsteps. A smile bloomed on Lance's face and he held out a glass toward Keith.

"Hey, Keith. Allura and Coran wanted milkshakes, but I think they were a little freaked out when I showed them how to milk a cow. You want some? It's not the same as real milk, but it's still pretty good."

Keith couldn't help the small smile that slipped out at how Lance looked so proud sitting there in his sleepwear and slippers next to a pail of milk. He folded his arms across his chest, eying the two glasses that had obviously been intended for Allura and Coran, though by the looks of it, Lance had been sipping out of one of them. He let out a soft huff.

"You do know that drinking milk straight from a cow isn't good for you, right? Especially a space cow and space milk."

Lance pouted, rolling his eyes and thrusting the full glass at Keith again. "Oh come on, if we haven't died from space goo by now, I doubt this is going to hurt that much."

Keith sighed, debating on arguing that point and ultimately deciding it wasn't worth it, partially because Lance's knowledge of cows was the real thing he wanted to talk about. He took the offered glass of milk and sniffed it. It had a sweet scent and didn't smell like the milk he remembered, but a glance towards Lance's expectant look urged him to take a small taste. To his surprise, it really wasn't that bad. Too sweet for his liking, but it did have a similar taste and it was nice, if not a bit thick.

"Not bad, Kaltenecker." He said, looking at the cow, who simply kept chewing and didn't have any reaction. Not that a cow would respond.

Lance beamed, holding up his own glass of milk and leaning forward with his free hand on his knee, tilting his head to the side to gesture for Keith to join him. He obliged, sitting on the grass beside Lance's stool and resting his arms of his knees. Lance put down his glass and patted Kaltenecker's flank gently.

"Yeah, right? She's a good girl. I'm actually glad the princess asked about milkshakes, because she really needed the milking. I think she was getting uncomfortable. It's something I don't think we really thought about and I feel bad for neglecting her. I'm sorry, babe."

He cooed at Kaltenecker softly and scratched behind her ear, something Keith found oddly endearing. Which brought to mind the reason he came to find him. Keith set down his milk and leaned forward against his knees to peer at Lance curiously.

"I didn't know you knew how to milk cows." He said, the question lurking behind his words.

Lance glanced back at Keith in surprise before his shoulders drooped just a fraction. He mirrored Keith's pose with his elbows against his knees and stared down at his slippers.

"I guess I never did mention anything about that." He mumbled almost to himself.

Keith waited quietly. The two of them had been spending a bit more time together than before, so he knew by now that when Lance was quiet, he was processing how to say something. Sure enough, after a minute, Lance looked back up at him with a half-smile. The explanation followed.

"Growing up, our family was large and we all had to help support each other in whatever way we could. I wasn't the best at...well anything, really, but as soon as I was old enough to get a job, I did. It was like, a part time job-hopping thing, but it worked. I helped out at the general store for a while and I really liked talking to the people who came in. People are kind of my thing. But then Mr Santina couldn't afford to keep me as an employee, so I got into the car garage. Never was good at machines though, so that didn't last."

Lance sat up, gesturing with his hands as he talked. "We lived in the country, but we weren't rich enough to afford a farm. I always wanted to work with animals, so I asked around with our neighbors and was able to get a job as a hand. I did a lot of stuff around the farm, including milking cows, so...that's how I learned. I'll admit, being so far away from Earth and home, it was a bit of surprise to find what looks like a fairly normal cow at the space mall. Kaltenecker kind of brings that small piece of home back, you know? I miss all the animals from the farm."

His expression went soft then and his hand lifted to absently stroke the cow's flank beside him. Kaltenecker let out a moo. Keith chuckled a little as he watched, resting his chin on his palm, and the noise drew Lance's attention.

"What?"

Keith gave a little half-shrug with one shoulder. "Well, I was raised on a ranch with my father, so I know what you mean. About the animals."

Lance seemed surprised at this, blue eyes widening and his attention fully focused on Keith. Keith continued, the memories coming back to him, though not nearly recalled as fondly as Lance's own.

"We didn't have a huge variety, just horses and a few goats. I probably wasn't as good with animals as you are though. My dad was the one who really loved them, but I did like to ride."

Lance let out a little gasp that made Keith blink. The other's face was a picture of delight and it caused a weird sort of flip in Keith's chest that he wasn't too comfortable with.

"Oh my god! I loved horseback riding! Mr Arriola would let me take Peligro out for a ride after finishing for the day. We were best friends, Peligro and I." He paused, then thought to translate for Keith. "Peligro means 'danger', and boy was that horse a magnet for it. He would get his hoof stuck in a hole, his head stuck in the chickenwire fence, anything you can think of, this rascal managed it. He never ceased to get into trouble."

Lance laughed and Keith smiled. "He's just like you, then." The affronted expression he received only made Keith smile more, breaking into a snicker as Lance shoved his shoulder lightly. "What? I'm right."

"Oh, shut up." Lance muttered, trying to appear annoyed, though the glimmer in his eyes gave him away. He reached for his glass of milk again, using it as an excuse to take a drink and not speak for a little bit. His fingers twitched against the rim of the glass for a second as he seemed to consider something, then they stilled.

"Hey, Keith? If-...When we get to go back to Earth, we're going riding together, okay? I'm sure Peligro would love you."

Keith raised his eyebrows in surprise at the idea, as it was rare of Lance to openly suggest doing something together, but one look at the hint of red tainting Lance's cheeks and he had to glance away himself. An image of the two of them on horseback flickered across his mind, specifically Lance in a cowboy hat and bandana, and he struggled to force down a flush of his own. Okay, maybe the idea was pretty tempting. He must have hesitated a bit too long, however, because Lance was quick to stutter out a follow up.

"I-I mean we don't have to, if you don't want to. We don't even know if we'll get back to Earth, or when, or...but y'know, if we do, I just thought that since we both liked riding it would be fun to-"

"Lance." Keith stopped his rambling with a hand on Lance's knee, making the other look up at him. He found it easier to answer now, certain of himself as he gave Lance a reassuring look. The other paladin visibly relaxed upon seeing it, the bright smile returning to his face at Keith's next sentence.

"I'd like that."

#vld #vld s4 #lance #keith #klance #bluefics

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britonell · 7 years

Text

Bit more about Japanese culture and anime...

There was some interest after this Inuyasha post. Thought it would be cool to go more in-depth and relate it to anime, so next time you watch something you can go, “Oh yeah. That happens over there.”

No, THAT doesn’t happen in Japan.

As a word of caution: I grew up near Tokyo in the 90′s, when the economic bubble had burst but your average family didn’t feel the effects until later. Culture may have shifted slightly after the economic downturn (I know there’s a more nationalistic undertone now, like most of Asia), and everything I say will not apply to all of Japan. Places like Sapporo and Ōsaka have their own distinct cultures, like how New York and Texas are uniquely different.

But since most anime are set in or are geared towards the Tokyo crowd, I have a good idea of the cultural influences. Especially when relating it to Inuyasha, which was published and set in the 90′s (at least in Kagome’s modern time).

Memories~

Also, what I’m about to say below is about Japan (Tokyo). Please don’t start applying it to other countries in Asia, or you will be laughably misled.

Additionally, I’m not some researcher who did extensive study on my own culture. I’m just relating to y’all my background, experiences, and the little bit of knowledge I’ve gleaned from my memories of living there as a little girl, as well as from stories shared by my parents.

Suffice it to say, you should not cite me for your research paper.

You’re on your own, suckers!

I didn’t want to bother making multiple posts, so this is gonna be looooong. It’s not all roses either. If you have this fantastic, perfect vision of Japan, turn back now! You hear me?

Now then.

Are you ready, kids?

HERE. WE. GOOOOO!!!

When I was in Japan, public elementary schools still ran 6 days a week (half-days on Saturdays, when we did nothing productive). Now only some private schools run for 6 days. But what I remember is the nutritious lunches. They were definitely healthier than pizza. And we had to drink all. That. Damn. Milk.

Whoa. The bottle I had to finish was a little smaller than that.

Note: I know most Asians are lactose intolerant, but no classmate of mine ever got a stomachache. We definitely weren’t drinking soy milk. It could’ve been processed/long-life milk. I’ve heard people with lactose intolerance in Japan drinking milk just fine, but traveling to the US and symptoms showing up. Dunno what’s different between our milk supplies.

You’ll find teachers pushing kids to drink their milk. You got mocked by your classmates if you failed to finish your bottle or carton. Reason is, we just don’t get a lot of calcium in out diet, not like other countries. Osteoporosis is sort of accepted as an inevitability -- that’s why you see so many old men in anime who’re tiny or have a terrible hunchback. It’s an exaggeration of the truth.

Look at that little fella.

Moving on... Boundaries are EVERYTHING: Thanks to movies and shows, Japanese people are aware how people abroad like being physically close to one another in a public setting.

THAT SAID, if you and your spouse greet each other with a chaste kiss in front of a young Japanese woman, you’re gonna hear a high-pitched squeal or a giggle -- not out of disapproval, mind you. It’s just not something you see everyday in Japan. Older folks and men who’re too cool to care will just avert their gaze. Or laugh awkwardly.

Awkward laughing is our thing.

A possible reaction to public kissing, along with awkward laughing. Not for the hip and cool kids, though. They might whistle at you.

Japan has some clear social rules about what can be done in specific situations. At least, it’s clear to us. People visiting might get a serious whiplash.

Example: I remember there being a channel that ran news programs during the day. What I didn’t know at the time was that after 10 pm -- BAM, topless host of an erotic game show. It was the parents’ responsibility to make sure kids stayed away from certain channels at night.

Same for certain streets. Host club workers will entice young women on these streets to drink at their clubs, and they can do that because kids and families don’t use those streets.

Don’t let the anime fool you. A lot of host clubs are shady, like drugs-sex-yakuza-type shady...

However... there was that one time my dad thought it would be funny to bring my mom and I to take a walk down a certain street because he’s a cheeky bastard (I was like 4 years old). According to my dad, there was utter silence as host club workers immediately clammed up and averted their gaze. One person went up to my dad and asked him if we were lost.

Hilarious talking about it now. Highly questionable back then.

My dad has a strange sense of humor.

Oh, after-work drinking culture for office workers is another accepted oddity. Spouses are NOT invited. Some companies are strict about married couples not working in the same building. Bizarre, I know, but they really want to keep marital issues away from company grounds. Some private schools even have strict rules about dating, but I went to public school so I’ve got no personal stories about that.

Drinking with coworkers really is about networking and strengthening ties with coworkers, like in other countries, but in Japan you can easily find a CEO getting drunk and wearing his tie around his forehead and dancing with his shirt unbuttoned. Not joking.

Exaggeration of the truth. I say exaggeration because most office workers aren’t gonna be that good looking. Heh.

Despite most Japanese people suffering from alcohol flush reaction, drinking after work is part of the work culture. In the 90′s, if they missed the last train (trains don’t run 24/7) you used to see office workers sleeping in parks.

Note: Pickpocketing is still virtually nonexistent in most of Japan. There’s even a whole fashion trend of young men showing off the latest wallet design by letting it hang from their back pocket with a fancy chain.

I’ll be honest. I couldn’t find an appropriate gif.

Nowadays, there’s capsule hotels (pod hotels). They seem like a novelty to tourists, but in reality are used by office workers that stayed out too long and don’t want to spend money on taxis, because that shit is expensive...

...for a reason: Japanese taxis are really nice. The doors slightly swing open for you when the driver pushes a button.

Anyway, morning comes and the office workers take meds for the hangover and they’ll be back to their serious selves come workday.

Nothing to see here, get back to work.

Next, Japanese language: We’ve got a shit-ton of loanwords. Like, off the top of my head, I don’t know the Japanese word for bread. I always say “pan,” which is from Portuguese. Being an island nation, you can clearly track which word came from which traders and missionaries.

I was on the phone with my dad while writing this. He assured me there’s a Japanese word for bread. He couldn’t remember. Then told me to stop playing around, before saying he’s going back to his sitcom...thanks, dad.

“Cosplay,” coined in Japan during the 80′s, is the combination of the words “costume” and “play.” Even the word “anime” is from “animation,” and in Japan it means just that. I remember watching a movie review when I was a kid and the reviewer calling the foreign movie “a great anime.” It wasn’t a 2-D movie. I think it might’ve been A Bug’s Life, but I wasn’t interested so meh.

And the big anime eyes have Western influences too! The great Osamu Tezuka, the father of manga, was influenced by Disney and Betty Boop.

A modern version of Tezuka-sensei’s iconic Astro Boy.

We’ve been using words and phrases from other countries for ages. We literally say “Merry Christmas,” because wishing someone to have a good foreign holiday in Japanese is just a waste of time -- unless you’re really nationalistic and don’t want to use English words. There are people like that, some of them politicians. Ugh.

Sushi on Christmas? Eh, why not? Holidays like Valentine’s Day, Christmas, and Halloween were all introduced to Japan by corporations, anyway.

I was talking to an old Japanese friend, and she exclaimed “Sweet” in the middle of conversation, which made me pause (she never moved out of Japan). More English words have come into casual Japanese conversations since I left the country, and they’ve been sort of molded and melded to form new terms. Terms I find weird...and make me feel old.

Oh, another thing that seems to surprise a lot of people I’ve met: Japanese people sing Happy Birthday in English. No one I personally knew sang it in Japanese...I guess we collectively decided it sounded better in English? All I know is that, as a little girl, every time I went to a birthday party we sang it in English.

Asked my dad why we sing it in English. His response was basically, “Who cares?” Also, is anyone else getting a little hungry?

It’s not that weird of an idea...because of reasons. The first being birthdays weren’t that big of a deal for commoners until a certain time period (I want to say Edo period). People just kept track of the years, so it was as if everyone’s birthday was the first day of the new year/springtime.

Secondly, English is a mandatory class beginning as early as kindergarten. Don’t think we’re all bilingual, though. It’s English meant to pass tests. I will be the first to admit, we’re not linguists. We learn enough to say certain phrases.

Heh. Sleeping in class is an international trope.

Onto couples and what’s acceptable: If you spot your girlfriend holding another boy’s hand in public, even if it was to get up some slippery stairs, it would be understandable to get a tiny bit defensive. So all those anime guys with jealousy issues? Perhaps context would say they’re being reasonably miffed. Or not, it depends.

Is it an upstanding citizen helping your girlfriend? Relax, man. Is it a romantic rival who wants a chance to be physically close? CODE RED! CODE RED! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! BOUNDARIES HAVE BEEN CROSSED! I REPEAT!

BOUNDARIES. HAVE. BEEN. CROSSED.

Inuyasha’s half dog. He’s just being territorial! :P (Respecting boundaries was a bigger deal in the past, anyway.)

Other than couples-only events or somewhere only young adults roam, hand-holding is really the only way to publicly show your affection. Kissing a friend on the cheek? Unless you did that with every friend and you grew up in a different country, you’ll get some raised eyebrows.

Back pocket butt squeeze? Y-Y-YOU DEVIANT!

That’s pretty much fool-around-in-the-alleyway territory.

One of the few times boundaries can be crossed? The arts. Once you get into the entertainment industry, or become a TV personality or a comedian, suddenly there’s this invitation to do crazy shit.

The arts is where you let go and do all sorts of strange and wild things.

Laws have tightened since the 90′s--the comedians were REALLY out there back then--but even to this day our manga, anime, and TV shows can push the limits of our sensitivities. Movies can be crazy violent. Video games can be crazy perverted. Prank shows can be crazy outrageous.

It’s sort of our outlet.

Our insane, dirty, naughty outlet.

Japanese people aren’t that religious (yes, we’re transitioning from booty to faith): A lot of us put down Shinto or Buddhism or whatever on paper if asked, but only out of respect for our elders who really were practicing. These days, people will go ahead and have a Christian wedding and then have a Buddhist funeral.

I’m not kidding here.

Cardcaptor Sakura!? ...I’ve actually seen weirder.

Despite the up to date youth, past beliefs and ideas are still deeply rooted in our culture (like saying “See you in the next life,” even if you don’t really care about the validity of reincarnation), so people can still be superstitious without belonging to a religious organization...and discrimination against females at the workplace and homophobia can be worse than in other developed countries.

The truth is our culture isn’t perfect.

I’m sorry, but it’s true.

So it’s understandable that people would be confused by the conservative behavior of Japanese people, because our media would suggest the complete opposite. In public, we keep to our boundaries, from combination of culture and lack of physical space.

You know those face masks people in Asia seem to wear all the time? In Japan, the ill wear those out of necessity in the city. Grueling work culture demands we work even while sick (unless you physically can’t get up). Cities are crowded, we’re stacked on top of one another in tiny apartments, but most jobs are in cities so we’ve got no choice but to cover our sneezes and coughs with masks as we squeeze into really, really crowded trains.

Good luck getting a seat during rush hour! You know what, good luck getting room to breathe.

Speaking of work culture: Customer service...best in the world, even the government employees are polite and prompt. I’ve lived in a couple of countries, and there’s no comparison. Pay for these Japanese workers isn’t that great and there’s no incentives like tips, it’s just that their standards are way higher. To a fault. “The customer is always right” is taken to a ridiculous level.

My dad remembers a news story about a waiter that politely quit after he was verbally skewered to tears by a customer, patiently waited outside until the customer exited, and then ambushed him with a bat. The typical reaction to the news story? "About time.”

Yay, violence!

I know working in customer service in the US can be brutal. The difference that makes it worse in Japan is there’s this widespread cultural expectation for workers to bow and apologize for everything no matter what, because service workers must be humble first and foremost, which is as humiliating and emotionally taxing as you can imagine.

The waiters of a typical restaurant in Japan aren’t even allowed to be sarcastic or cheeky to a rude customer, like snidely say, “I hope your day is as pleasant as you are,” because that could get them in trouble. They could even get in trouble for not smiling enough, or not being as eloquent as possible, or not wearing their uniform perfectly...

And these are considered “reasonable” demands from the manager!

“Grin and bear it” takes on a whole new meaning in Japan.

Our petty crimes are infrequent. Since our housewives are such busybodies, police get plenty of tattletales. But, like in a lot of countries, there’s under-reporting of certain crimes--sexual assaults--due to shame and whatnot. Stuff like train groping? Probably a combination of repressed desires, predators taking advantage of the under-reporting, and the submissive personalities commonly found in Japanese women.

We’re really good about returning lost property, however. It’s like our pride forces us to do so. Giving change someone left in a vending machine to the neighborhood police station as lost property is pretty much the first thing we learn in kindergarten, along with proper hand-washing.

My dad went back to visit Japan in 2015, and saw a man pick up and pocket currency someone ahead of him dropped at a bus stop. Dad’s reaction to this: “Society has fallen.” I tend to agree.

The few homicides that occur aren’t brought on by something like road rage, but more along the lines of crimes committed by repressed people with long-held, festering grudges that snapped, like the abused waiter. Or something really elaborate, like a yakuza cover-up. Either way, it can get really heinous.

Don’t let Detective Conan fool you. Ours murders aren’t that numerous. Or fun to solve.

Why do we snap? We have this culture of holding things in; gaman, which means to endure. It’s supposed to make you patient and persevere, thus negating entitlement, but I can say with certainty there’s too much of it (except in our politics), and it’s bad for our mental and physical health, e.g. our ridiculously grueling work culture and possibly snapping like that waiter.

Our subcultures (cosplay, anime) can be fun and neat. Our main culture, not so much. It’s only in specific events and areas of Japan, like cons and Harajuku, where you won’t be judged for being out there and letting loose.

I mean, we’ve got problems with shut-ins for a reason.

On a more lighter note...hot springs!

There used to be a lot more volcanic activity in Japan (smoke used to spew out of Mt. Fuji).

Natural hot springs birthed a particular bathing habit that we follow to this day, even at our own homes -- we prepare first by showering and cleansing ourselves, and then get into our boiling bathtub to relax our muscles.

In the past, travelers were essentially sharing the natural hot springs, so it was a no-brainer that they would try to get clean before getting in. Habits stuck, I guess. Of course, it’s less true for those living in tiny apartments without bathtubs. A modern travesty, really.

Even our monkeys love ‘em!

...if you’re curious about the monkeys: We have wild snow monkeys all over Japan that bathe in natural hot springs. There’s a national park famous for them. Japan also has islands full of cats, an island full of rabbits, and a public park full of deer too.

Something neat to end the post: It can be fun shopping at their flea markets and bazaars (we really call them that, yay loanwords). Japanese people are really, really great at taking care of their belongings, as evidenced by their temples and shrines. Hand-me-downs and used objects may be resold in their original packaging--that’s how well cared for they are.

Most of the city streets are clean too. Unless it’s festival time~

Went ahead and asked my dad why so many in Japan keep the original packaging. “Dunno. Habit?” he said. Then he went to eat some sunflower seeds. Helpful, dad. Helpful.

#anime #inuyasha #analysis #japan #culture #gifs #inunalysis

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