“Let’s see now… Energetic and somewhat feisty? Check. (Fine, fine… GO-GETTER. Okay, Sheba?)”
“Happy and bubbly? Check.”
“Easily flustered? BIG CHECK (yes, you so are. Quiet, Sheba)….. And what’s this??? Long hair too? With a color falling under a type of pink (-ish red)???”
“She also happens to be supportive and loyal to those she loves… And excluding her rather
enthusiastic facial expressions in battle
…… I’d say she CERTAINLY reminds me of someone (you can stop grinning now, Sheba).”
“And oh look, messy first impressions. They have those too, how convenient.”
“You’ve imprinted a type of girl to our son somehow, I just know it. I may not have a way to prove it, but damn it, Sheba! I’m blaming you anyway.
-A random soliloquy by Solomon, but not really, as he watches over Aladdin
I also like to think that he got used to talking to himself quite a bit after he became God. Besides, I feel like Wahid and Falan, and a bunch of other people, were still too salty to talk to Solomon for a long time (after they died).
Except Sheba, she’d keep Solomon company. I pictured her cackling in the background after listening to Solomon ranting about Magi 315. “Well, if you’re comparing Kougyku to me then our son has EXCELLENT TASTE. Now, pass the popcorn, DEAR.” is what I think she’d say.
Author’s Note: So, I’ve decided to start another series. Basically it’ll be a PWP series. So ratings are M and E, be aware. Our favorite couple has a little roleplaying kink they like to work out together. Hope you enjoy!
Her fingers tug at the hem of her skirt, a little leather number that had her husband all but frenzied the first time she’d worn it several weeks prior, as she rereads his text message to her almost three hours earlier. She clicks the screen off before sliding it back into her jacket pocket. She leans against the wall and stares at her semi-blurred reflection in the elevator door.
There was no denying this skirt was one of her best investments and pairing it with her sky high black stilettos for the evening made for an extremely appealing combination. Her top was rather conservative in contrast: a white collared shirt she’d buttoned just high enough to make her cleavage only slightly obscene and a royal blue blazer that she’d rolled the sleeves to just below her elbows. Of course, no businesswoman would be complete without her black-framed glasses and cascading blonde curls clipped atop her head.
She looks like such a fucking cliché that it would be comical if she weren’t so nervous.