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#and I needed to experiment with bold line art and color so here we are! a win win win situation!
jojo-schmo · 4 months
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I made myself a personal playlist with the fnaf songs I like (because wow I’ve missed out on like five years of bangers and need to catch up!!). I thought I would make myself a playlist cover with my precious Helpy bear to inspire even more joy from it!! He stole/borrowed DJ Music Man’s headphones. :3
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Embroidery Journal: Quilting + Applique For Only-Vaguely-Nefarious Purposes
I've finally cleared out my commission backlog enough to start a new project for myself, and this is one I'm really excited to tackle: an addition to my personal embroidery collection in the form of a horror art panel by @barbatusart. I spent entirely too much time last year embroidering cutesy little souvenirs for my coworkers. I think I'm allowed a little fun for myself now.
However: The solid color blocks in the background gave me brief pause. So I decided to whip up a quick little test project to experiment with how to work them in using a combination of quilting, applique, and lots of really really painstaking work with an x-acto knife. Experiment, steps, and final results below!
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Step 1: Collecting Materials
Texture and fabric weight do make a very noticeable difference in any fiber arts project. For that reason, it's important to do test projects using the same fabrics you plan to make the final piece out of. Lucky for me, I have an abundant stash to choose from.
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Step 2: Design
Alternately known as the step wherein I began to suspect I was going overboard by hand-drawing original artwork just for one little test project. In other news, guess what y'all - I can free-hand sketch eyes now!
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Step 3: Quilt The Background
Please excuse the cat hair. For this test I'm just going for two color blocks but I think it's clear how this concept would extend to the geometric background in the artwork we're building towards.
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Step 4: Create A Stencil
The idea here is that we should create cut-outs in the quilted layer, from under which the white fabric will show through. My design is not ideal for this because it has a relatively light outline, so there's not much margin for error. However, looking back at the comic panel that is my ultimate goal, the outlines there are fairly heavy and bold. If I can make it work on my sketch, I'm confident I can make it work on the final piece.
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Step 5: Cut, Bond, and Hoop
A spot of quilter's spray adhesive was adequate to fix the two fabrics together. A keen eye will note that the final stencil was just a bit larger than intended and didn't quite perfectly line up. This is where the thin lines in my design aren't doing me any favors. But - good enough for now.
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Step 6: Hey Look, It Worked
Would you look at that! I think this did actually do what I wanted to.
Notes For Improvement:
Using stabilizer on the quilted layer will help reduce distortion when it comes to placing it over top of the base layer - probably very important with a bigger design
Double sided iron-on stabilizer might be the way to go to keep both layers nice and bonded and prevent wrinkles
Thick outlines on the design border are definitely a must
That maroon fabric looks ok in this picture but in poor lighting, it very quickly disappears into the black, I might need to pick a different fabric
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gothamexhibit · 1 year
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Story Journal | Batman: Year One
"Without warning, it comes ... crashing through the window of your study ... and mine ... I have seen it before ... somewhere ... it frightened me ... as a boy ... frightened me ... yes. Father. I shall become a bat."
Batman: Year One (Four Issues)
Written by: Frank Miller
Illustrated by: David Mazzucchelli
Colorist: Richmond Lewis
Letterer: Todd Klien
Editor: Denny O’Neil
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Overview
In a story that clearly belongs to Jim Gordon, this early days of Gotham’s new face builds a strong foundation of what’s to come. The ever encroaching new age of Gotham. It shows motivation and growth of how these characters become who we may know them to be, but also who they used to be. 
Gordon’s mentality that eats him away, but still keeps him moving forward. A disillusioned man who, by all accounts, has completely given up on everything, but he still pushes forward. His personality is nonchalant and gives the impression that he doesn’t care. And yet, he throws himself into the fire if it means he can make a difference. Of course he’s not perfect. Far from it. But Gotham can take what it can get. 
Bruce not only constantly messes up, but it nearly costs him his life and his identity each time. He’s not the world's greatest detective, or the legendary Dark Knight. He’s simply a man with money and training, but no experience. He’s reckless and risky and, as he states again and again, lucky. A lucky amateur that believes in an ideology that leads him to become one of the world’s greatest superheroes despite being an ordinary human. 
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Art Analysis
The art fits the story perfectly. It leans into the mud that is Gotham City, while allowing scenes to breathe. 
It conveys motion in a way that makes the reader feel like they get glimpses of the action. It doesn’t linger on a fight that doesn’t need to be detailed. It tells the story of what’s happening around it and how. 
It paints Gotham with both a crowded, claustrophobic atmosphere and a spacious, lonely city. There is a distinct understanding that Gotham will suffocate you without a moment to spare, but the city can leave you in a sea of emptiness as well. 
Color is purposeful. As detailed as scenes can be in one scene, a simple one-color background conveys shock, terror, or focus. With shadows not just showing mystery and confusion, but boldness. 
A direct reference to the Nighthawks by Edward Hopper with the diner that Gorden and Essen frequent (not only is the diner referenced here, but it also can be seen to be referenced in the recent film The Batman). 
The art shows clear direction. And it is through this art that not only elevates the narrative, but the characters and setting as well. Gotham feels alive. 
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Narrative Analysis
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Right away we get the juxtaposition between Gordon (not yet commissioner) and Bruce as they both enter Gotham city. Each preferring to enter the city the other way. Not only does it show how different their perspectives are, it sets up the interesting dynamic between their future relationship, before they even meet for the first time. 
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It may be important to note that Bruce is 25 when he returns to Gotham. Additionally, this story is a Year One story that leads up to his Batman persona. As such, he would begin being the Caped Crusader at 26. 
With a 12 year hiatus from Gotham, that would make him 13 when he left. It’s interesting to see how Gotham doesn’t see a poor young boy being gone for so long seemingly by himself, but instead views Bruce Wayne as more of a Gotham attraction instead of a real person. This dissonance towards “figures of the public” may also lean towards how Gothamites don’t seem bothered enough to care when young Robins start to appear. 
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Not only is there a small line prior about Harvey Dent, we see Selina Kyle for the first time. We don’t just enter Gotham through the return of Gordon and Bruce, we enter into the inception of the Gotham we come to know later. An unsaveable city overrun with crime enters an attempt to save it by The Batman. 
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Although not yet the Caped Crusader, Bruce still makes his first mistake. A risky play that could’ve left him discovered if he didn’t barely get away. Batman’s reputation paints the picture of an intense, methodical vigilante that looks into the eyes of gods without flinching. But the first mistake Bruce Wayne puts him on the edge of unconsciousness and at a risk of bleeding to death. A mistake that shows a legend like Batman can be clumsy and reckless. 
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Without panic, without emotion. Jim Gordon issues payback on Flass who had recently assaulted Gordon. He understands the city and its rules and wastes no time to send his own message. This one moment gives plenty of insight into the kind of man Gordon can be. And will be. A man that sees corruption and takes matters into his own hands. The same very man that will not only support the vigilante Batman, but work side-by-side with him. 
He understands that the city has a sickness, and Batman is the only antibody Gotham can produce.
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We are constantly reminded that the biggest problem is corruption. The city may be rotting, but an infected bandaid will only make things worse. With eccentric villains to sprout later on, the root of Gotham’s inability to change for so long before Batman was the authority “sworn to protect.” The biggest gang in Gotham are the cops. As Bruce tries to save the city by targeting criminals, Gordon saves the city from within one of the biggest poisons in Gotham.  
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We see Gordon’s conflicting mindset. Something in the city must be calling to him. A savior complex or simply the inability to leave his new home and his job. He hates what he does and yet he pours his heart and soul into doing it the right way. He regrets bringing his son into Gotham even when he’s capable of leaving the city behind. 
He’s self aware, but just can’t stop. 
The city needs to be fixed and his subconscious is itching to fix it. Unbeknownst to him, it mirrors Bruce’s ideology. 
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More mistakes. Bruce is an amateur and even admits it. While attempting to stop teenagers from stealing, he almost kills one and barely makes it out. Clearly in over his own head, but he believes in what he’s doing. And believes Batman can make a difference. 
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Batman hid behind Harvey Dent’s desk while he and Gordon were talking.
I don’t have anything to say here. I just thought this was funny. 
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Although they still haven’t met since their first fight in the street, Bruce and Selina are seemingly connected. Just a simple yet effective comment on the siamese gives so much information on not just their connected understandings, but how, at the core, they are meant for each other. They are from completely different worlds, but can still meet each other halfway and see themselves in each other. 
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Even with gunfire lights up the building Bruce is trapped in, he still protects the cat. Even when it pains him, when it's unwise, when it makes no sense to do so, he still protects The Cat. 
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Even when he should run away, he runs forward. The man who is known for being concentrated on “the mission” and doing the best thing in the moment. Waste precious time to inflict retaliation on the SWAT member who targeted the cat. 
The very act connects Bruce to Selina. Figuratively and literally.
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The idea is mentioned by Gordon twice now. Even as early as Year One, he suspects Bruce of being Batman. Although Bruce has a clear alibi, Gordon doesn't seem convinced, but he doesn't push it either. Almost as if he doesn’t care. To Gordon, it doesn’t matter if Bruce is Batman or not. 
It’s what he’s doing that matters. 
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One of the most crucial things to understand about Jim Gordon. He’s not just. He’s no superhero. He’s human. Very human. 
If Jimmy Olsen views the world with optimistic wide-eyed wonder, Jim Gordon sees it with nihilistic mundanity. 
He cheats on his wife with Detective Essen while his son is almost born. The opportunity was in front of him and he took it. 
Gordon is one of the best people to help save Gotham. 
But the bar is set incredibly low.  
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We even see this tear him apart. He understands his actions like he always has been. He hates the city, hates that he’s cheating on Barbara, and is conflicted on talking Batman down. 
He’s lost. He knows he can’t keep cheating. But he just can’t stop. 
Lost to a point where he contemplates suicide. He’s not a hero. Not anything special. 
He’s human. Very Human. 
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In Year One’s final issue, we not only see Selina suit up for the first time, but we see Alfred finally. One of his first remarks points a nod towards Superman. 
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As Gordon’s son is almost taken as a hostage. Bruce dives off the bridge to save him. With Gordon following suit. 
This very moment seeds many things. Although his son is incredibly young, this could inadvertently lead to change in his psyche. His son doesn’t exactly turn out to be the best young man and this incident could be a building block in that. 
Jim may also be lying about his eyesight. Even with blurry vision, he could very well put in the effort to make out Bruce’s face in front of them. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe he doesn’t want to confirm his suspicions. Maybe he doesn’t need to. So maybe he doesn’t try. 
It wouldn’t change his opinion on the vigilante regardless. 
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As Year One ends, we get a glimpse of the Gotham we clearly know. With Gordon working with Batman instead of against, with criminals getting more eccentric. 
A city of grim corruption and rampant crime seemingly will only get worse before it gets better, if at all. 
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pankomako · 1 year
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there's probably like a million others out there already, but since im seeing a lot of my friends hop on tumblr due to the twitter situation i figured i'd give this a go. so, welcome to
panko's guide to tumblr!
i've been using this site for almost a year now, so i suppose i'm at least somewhat qualified to do this. i mainly just want to do this for fun honestly. i think lots of people have covered more of the setup and what to expect from tumblr as a whole so i think i'll focus on more of the usage of this site, because it's definitely much different from twitter, and, in my opinion, FAR better, plus that's the thing people seem to be the most confused about. so, here we go!
Post Features
the first thing you may notice is that tumblr has no character limit on posts! if you want to post a 10,000 word essay on the motives of your favorite character from the video game or tv show you're super into right now, nobody's stopping you. already so much more convenient than making threads on twitter.
there's a variety of options you can use to make your text more visually interesting, add emphasis, and/or organize your post! when you highlight text (at least on browser, i dont use the app), these options will appear above what you highlighted. you can make your text bold, italicized, bigger (on a new line), smaller, crossed out, or even colored! under the drop-down list there are other options too such as cursive text and lists. you can also add hyperlinks to text if you want. (this is all in the rich text editor, you can also switch to HTML or Markdown by going to your post settings.)
you can also add plenty of other media to posts! you can add up to 30 images which you can arrange however you please, although from my experience arranging images is kinda clunky, but still way better than twitter lol. you can also add gifs, videos (one per post), audio files (10 per post), and embed links. you can also add a cutoff line where everything under that line is hidden under a "read more" button, which is very useful for longer posts.
when you make a post, there is a space to add a title, but it's not required. most people don't add titles unless it helps with formatting.
you can also schedule a post to be posted at a certain time, queue posts to be posted on a consistent schedule, change who can reblog a post, and even save posts as drafts if you want/need to come back to them later.
Tags
Under every post you make/reblog, there is an option to add tags. these are in their own section under the post itself. you can add as many as you want afaik, but they can only be so many characters long. on tumblr, tags have multiple uses.
you can add tags that correspond to your post such as the topic or fandom (and characters/people involved), or whether it's art or photography, for example, to try to help get your post out there. it's preferred and just better in general to only add tags that are relevant to your post. don't tag character fanart as sports or food or pop music, but ESPECIALLY not an unrelated fandom.
you can also use tags to organize your blog and make it easier to find specific posts. you can tag your own art as "my art" and art you reblog from friends as "friends' art", and even create your own tags for specific topics you frequently post about, such as your oc world or a fandom fic or au you have. i personally don't use tags for organization much, but i do have my own tags for the two oc worlds i have. (you can do this even if you're not a fandom-goer or artist, these just serve as an example bc im both lol)
you can even use tags to add extra comments to a post. lord knows i do this a lot myself. lots of people will use tags to sort of ramble off-handedly under a post when it's not the main content of said post. this is especially common under reblogs - more on that later. since you can add spaces within tags, writing full sentences in the tags is easy and a very common practice. just be careful when using commas; adding a comma starts a new tag.
Notes
similarly to how twitter has likes, retweets and comments, tumblr has likes, reblogs and replies. however, these are all combined into one sum of notes. all notes on a post are compiled under the source post. by clicking on the number of notes under a post, you can see a list of all replies, likes and reblogs on a post, if you're curious like me.
on tumblr, likes act as more of a bookmarking tool. you can look at a list of all the posts you liked, and you can have this list displayed on your blog if you want, but likes do NOT increase the visibility of a post. if you want to help a post gain traction, you need to reblog it. if you don't want that post on your blog, but you want to let the person know that you've seen and enjoyed their post, you can leave a like as a small but kind gesture if you want. if you were playing minecraft, liking a post would be akin to punching a mob, but reblogging would be like using a sword. it may not necessarily be a powerful diamond sword, but it does more than a one-damage punch. i should also mention - you can only like a post once; if you like a reblog of a post, you like the source post and can't like separate reblogs of the post.
reblogs are the core of tumblr's functionality. this site does not have an algorithm, so reblogs are the only way for posts to circulate. it's probably pretty easy to figure out, but reblogs put another person's post on your own blog and on your followers' feeds. this is likely the biggest difference between tumblr and twitter: you can reblog a post as many times as you want, and you can add on to a post directly by reblogging, which is much different from a quote-tweet on twitter. also different from quote-tweets, all notes on reblogs are notes contributed to the source post. in a reblog, you can add a comment either in normal text or in the tags, and you can add images and gifs as well. it's common courtesy to put comments that don't contribute to the post in the tags, such as saying you think a post is funny. lots of famous tumblr posts are chains of reblogs - unlike on twitter where you can only retweet one tweet/reply at a time, you can reblog these reblog chains. you can also add the tags of the person you reblogged from to your own reblog if you want, though usually people just say "prev" if they liked the previous reblogger's tags.
replies are a convenient way to have a conversation under a post without repeatedly reblogging. although convenient, replies are limited in what you can do with them. they're text-only and have a character cap. but they're still a good way to add a quick comment to a post if you don't want it on your blog. you can also reply directly to a person in the notes of a post by mentioning them in your reply. replies can be deleted from a post or be turned off for a post entirely by the original poster.
I think that's about all you need to know to get started posting and reblogging, but please feel free to add on if i did happen to forget anything. thanks for reading and happy tumbling! :D
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Hiiiiiiii I would like to get a reading about my future spouse? Anything you deem as important can be within the reading (looks, personality, where we meet, where they are from, what line of work they are in) Thank you!! -🧘🌹
Hi! I’ll see what they let me see. Let’s begin.
I’m getting there may be more meaning in why you chose those emojis than you know, perhaps you and your FS like to do yoga together or this is the person who buys you roses just because. That’s very cute, aww, something about the color red so to me that means passion, action, excitement, I think this person will bring out this dead part of you you deactivated
Hello my darling, my love, so you just had to ask about me, huh? ;) I know I know, I create obsession, just my charm (they are very playful and teasing, they wanted to talk to so quickly to you I had to hurry up my last thought) I have so much planned for you! I can’t wait. We’re gonna do all the romantic things I’ve always wanted to do for someone but it never felt safe enough, it always felt like they might make fun of me or not get the gesture, but not you. That’s what I love about you. I can be all the versions of myself and you understand. You’re my best friend (this is a tim McGraw song too). I hope you feel safe to show me all your spots, from the beginning because you are bold and courageous and brave and I really see you that way. You diminish yourself too much, my love! Romeo, Romeo, where for art thou, Romeo? Right here! Duh. We’re gonna have a lot of fun together because I’m finally ready for something exciting, I’ve had it all before and I always wanted more. Soon, I’ll connect soon, pay attention to how you feel, to your dreams because they hold tons of meanings. Sleep, don’t sleep, you need to be more consistent with self care! Tsk tsk (autocorrected to tan so maybe go on vacation) Just kidding :) I love you. It’ll all be okay. You’ll see.
Maybe you both feel at peace together, like the kinda of peace you find in yoga. That came up as I was shuffling the cards. I’m also getting they like to do grand gestures are “tres romantique” ooo maybe something with French, they are French, take you to France, you meet in Paris.
Work your light oracle
Dance with life—do something to change your energy
Travel? Maybe you need to branch out, are you holding yourself back from experiences that make life worth living and why do you say no to yourself, treat yourself like a dream lover would so that when they come to your door you know what you deserve, I see you wearing red and dancing with your FS, very romantic
Yes— Just say yes
I think you may be hesitant and nervous about the person in your life, but just say yes, give them a chance, whirlwind it may move quicker than you expect, but when you trust, let yourself jump.
Druid Craft Tarot (I wanted one for clarity)
Death, in reverse—avoidance or fear of change; weariness, stagnation, pessimism, depression
Life often seems so threatening that we feel we must cling on to those few rocks of stability, even if deep down we know it’s time to move on. Fear may be ruling your life, and fatigue and depression may result, you may feel your life is stuck in some way, the more unconscious your resistance to change, the more likely you are to experience inertia and lethargy.
Lol! Yeah back to the reading right before this. Idk why but it seems like you both may be experiencing the same thing, I keep seeing how those two energies seem to overlap in these two and I’m not sure why, but maybe you need to look at their reading because there is a message there for you too! Odd.
Are you afraid you won’t find love? I think you need to go within to change this energy up, to figure out how to dance with life. This FS wants to bring this to you more but you need to find it within yourself first. Maybe you need to get into yoga or become a certified teacher! Maybe buy yourself roses in the meantime. I’m hearing some song reference 1,000 roses but don’t know what it is.
Hope this helps! Look to the reading before this because your energy seems to be going through something similar. Maybe you two anons have a connection of some sort or similar frequencies. Soul family? Idk. That’s kinda cute to think maybe my blog could facilitate people meeting who are meant to.
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nephewvase9 · 2 years
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20 Floor & Table Lamp Combinations For Your Home That Work
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Berenice Large Table Lamp By Luceplan
Matte Black Lamp
Front Porch Light Diagram
Luna 65 In Brass Led Floor Lamp
If you want even more mood in the air, go with an ADLAD scented candle – or both. And it’s always ready to help you read a book, slice a carrot or grab your blue socks. We have lots of lamps and lights to make your home brighter, especially energy-saving ones for a brighter future, too. If you have an empty wall that could use some extra love or you want to highlight a detail like art, a built-in, or an architectural feature, adding a sconce can be a great way to do so. Don’t be afraid to experiment with scale to make your lighting the focal point of the space. Sometimes throwing out the “rules” when it comes to sizing lends the best results. This will provide any extra light that's needed in the space. If you love design and have a particular color scheme, why not choose a floor lamp that goes with it? Here an enameled floor lamp is finished in the soft pink that the designer has selected as an accent color for this feminine bedroom. It matches the chair it's focused on and is really fun in the space. If you're going to mix up your types of lamps but don't want to mix up their looks, consider getting a table lamp that matches your floor lamp. Then, whether you have them on either side of the bed or put one in a reading area and one on a dresser, you have continuity in your lighting style. A desk lamp can be a unique piece for the office, many lamp designs stemmed from a need in a workspace specifically. From high tech to high design, our favorite desk lamps are the ultimate blend of form and function, making the daily grind a bit easier to manage. Following are a few favorite spaces showing how to choose the right lighting to match your kitchen style and color scheme. Clear glass pendant lights work well in this type of space, because they don’t disrupt your line of sight. Since our kitchen is the heart of the home, I knew I wanted this space to feel open, warm and welcoming—and I knew the right island lighting would help us achieve that feeling.
Berenice Large Table Lamp By Luceplan
The base of this lamp is made with 2x4s, and most hardware or lumber supply stores will cut the pieces for you as long as you have the measurements. Gathered in the KitchenBrassy gold finishes are trending right now, but they are a different sheen than the brass we see on outdated, old lamps that people often throw out. This tutorial from Gathered in the Kitchen shows how you can update the brass with a rub-on finish that is much more on trend and fresh. These homemade lamp ideas cover all sorts of styles and budgets, some of which only require a can of spray paint to complete.
I like brass, but the polished brass on the lamps looked a bit dated.
Measures 13½" x 9½" at base of shade x 23" h to top of matching finial.
More traditional schemes might want to consider a cottage lamp or a stained glass design, while contemporary spaces could brave a retro-inspired globe light.
Look around your home for areas that are lacking in light.
Uses two three-way bulbs up to 150-watts in traditional candelabra style arms.
Can be sprayed or plated over another base metal, but the best lights are made from solid copper.
Crafted of solid cast brass with an antiqued brass finish. The round base features traditional fluting and stays put while the pole can be rotated to change the light direction without having to lift and move the whole lamp. Accommodates one standard bulb up to 150-watts with on-off switch.
Matte Black Lamp
This coastal-inspired space pairs a gold-plated design with soft white walls and pops of seafoam green and royal blue. If you’re feeling daring, you could swap out the neutral shade for something bold in a contrasting hue. Want to go a little glam without looking too showy? Crafted of solid cast brass, this table lamp features a unique faceted teardrop style shaft. Accommodates one standard three-way bulb up to 150-watts. Solid cast brass brass table lamp with polished brass finish.
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A super soft sectional with plenty of space to spread out for movie nights is a must, but choose one that also looks elegant. Then add fun, eye-catching lighting for an extra punch of whimsy, like the pendant in this Studio DB-designed room. In this eclectic living room designed by Heidi Caillier, the jute rug, wood finishes, and brass accents—particularly the inverted drum pendant—bring plenty of warmth to ensure a cozy, inviting space.
Front Porch Light Diagram
We bring you furniture and lighting ideas, houses everyone would dream of and luxury properties that defy the world crisis. Decoist is a web magazine that brings you the daily bits of architecture, furniture and interior design. Geo style is alive and well in these Hexagon Pots from ferm LIVING, shown in a modern grouping below. Perfect for holding everything from flowers to jewelry, they are crafted from solid brass and topped off with matte polish. This stunning, little lamp is made with hand-blown smoked glass. We love how the patterned glass casts a mottled, warm glow on its surrounding surfaces.
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The way to find matching styles is to look at collections of lighting. A manufacturer will often have various lamps in a similar or related style. The matte black pendant lights in the open-concept kitchen, below, provide abundant task lighting over the island and give an industrial look to this space. Create a Brass Lamp Design can’t think of a better choice to provide a balanced look between the two spaces. Photo by Zeke Ruelas for EHDHere isBrady’s living room (well, an earlier iteration of it, because it’s since been updated). It gets an A+ for following the rule of hard shade mixed with soft shade. A polished brass task lamp sits on a white and gold nightstand with brass pulls. Dining and living space with geometric rug and black and white upholstery. Primer creates a bond that helps paint stick better to the brass; without it, paint does not adhere properly or may peel off in short time. Use a metal spray primer since it's designed to bond specifically to metal. Take the lamp outdoors or to a well-ventilated area and set it atop scrap cardboard, then spray the primer on with smooth, even strokes.
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Homeowner Nora Murphy has a little fun with pattern and color on her chandelier's drum shades come the holidays. Shown here with tartan shades, this iron chandelier by Richard Scofield is equally as stunning without the tiny toppers. Customized from a wire basket turned upside down, this three-bulb fixture makes for an interesting conversation starter. The patina of the basket and matching chain play off the copper-y colors found on the hood trim, shelf brackets, and drawer pulls for a cohesive farmhouse aesthetic.
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Luna 65 In Brass Led Floor Lamp
Combine overhead pendants with a wall light or table lamp to layer up your lighting and create a cosy atmosphere. If you have a dark corner, go for a large arc floor lamp that will illuminate the area you need. Position one over the sofa for reading, watching television and just chatting with friends. You can even mix up the finishes – we love this copper design, but you could go for steel or black for a more dramatic feel. This season there are plenty of new and exciting lighting options, including these gorgeous velvet and tassel lamps from Oliver Bonas.
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coexiising · 3 years
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art deco - anakin skywalker
SUMMARY ◆ You’ve been Anakin Skywalker’s Padawan for almost five years now, recieving training from one of the most brilliant Jedi Knights you have ever met. In an attempt to further your training, you and your Master take a trip to Naboo, however, it is soon revealed that your feelings will get in the way. 
WARNING(S) ◆ Smut, lowkey slow burn, anakin being hot but what’s new, dirty talk, authority kink, virginity kink, bye
WORDS ◆ 7.8k and i regret nothing
NOTE ◆ I wrote this during heartbreak so this is me totally projecting
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THERE WAS SOMETHING INCREASINGLY PLEASANT ABOUT BEING ON NABOO. You were quick to realize that the planet’s beauty that was always spoken about was not just a thing of rumors, and that, in fact, the place was even more beautiful than you could possibly imagine. The way that every tree hung perfectly, with it’s branches begging to be touched by a passerby, and how every single animal that grazed along it’s pastures had a sense of calm that you had never felt in all your years of living in the galaxy.
The villa along the large lake a few miles away from the main city was a thing of dreamlike structures. It’s columns held intricate pieces of wood and stone and the balconies that overlooked both water and flower fields were more welcoming than you could ever imagine. A own little touch of paradise, and you would be staying here for only a week.
The war, which you had been flung into only a few years into your training, was going on longer than anyone anticipated. The separatists were not letting up on their preposition to become a sovereign state, and the deaths of thousands mass produced clones has become a daily thing. It took a great toll on everyone involved, and more specifically the Padawan’s like yourself that were not at all prepared for this type of environment for your training. When you were just a youngling, all you expected was to go on lots of missions with your Master that would be Jedi affairs, not Republic ones. In a way, you felt as if you were being robbed of something that you weren’t quite sure how to pinpoint, an innocence in a way.
This was the Council’s way of trying to make it up to you. You knew that it wasn’t supposed to actually be a vacation, no, you were meant to keep up with your training, just in a different environment that would make you more akin with the Force. And that place was Naboo, tranquility in the form of a planet.
“I can feel your apprehension,” Your Master told you, walking in front of you up the stone stairs that came up to the front door of the place you would be staying in with him. Behind you was a ship, no one inside to accompany the two of you. To do this right, as the Council said, you were not to be distracted by anyone else, no clones, no droids, no nothing.
If only they knew that it didn’t matter if there was no one other than your Master to engage with, because Anakin Skywalker, alone, was able to distract you for hours on end if you really put your mind to it. Anakin and you were very similar in age, early adult years, and yet he had the role of Master and you were still just a Padawan. You knew that it was because of his efforts during the Battle of Geonosis at the very beginning of the war, and that alone was enough to grant him the title of Jedi Knight, but it still was awkward at points when he talked down on you, because really, he had only two years more experience in life than you did.
You did what you were told. You always did. As a youngling you had a temper, a rebellious streak that for a time was almost concerning for the Council and the Master’s that taught you. And yet, here you were, a respectful young Jedi. Over the years you have grown, probably more than any other youngling that the Order has ever seen. It was like overnight somehow you turned from a child to a young woman, and you were adamant about completing your studies so that you could become a Jedi Knight. Those plans, however, got incredibly tainted with the war, and then with the introduction of you and your Master. It was a rather uncalled for pairing. You were hoping for someone like Master Yoda to take you as his Padawan or even for master Plo Koon, yet it was wildly noted that you were picked by Anakin Skywalker yourself. A rather odd thing and he still hasn’t told you completely why.
Anakin was not entirely a man of secrets. You could ask him things about almost anything and he would tell you. The only thing that he kept guarded in the deepest parts of his mind was things of his past, and his reasoning behind making such vast decisions like taking on a Padawan during a large civil war. But you and Anakin still managed to be very close, the Force growing strong between both of you as if it too agreed in your compatibility.
You shook your head, immediately refuting his accusations. “No, it’s not apprehension,” you told him, eyes coming up to meet the back of his head since he wasn’t looking at you. “Just concern, that’s all.”
“That’s all?” Your Master questioned. The second that his foot came up to the top of the stairs, his figure turned around and faced you, those bold, blue eyes of his racing to meet your own. “If you have any doubts about anything, tell me, I am your Master after all.”
That’s exactly that problem, you thought to yourself, making sure that your mental shields were up to guard it. That was the last thing that you needed, for him to know the things that you wished to push down into the darkest depths of your mind. That was the Jedi way, after all, keep all those emotions that were considered dangerous and a path to the dark side in a little cage in your mind and throw away the key. The thought of simply just being with him here alone made your brain almost electrify yourself, thinking about all the possibilities of slipping up and revealing all your emotions towards your Master directly to him. It was something to fear, and yet you were not allowed to fear.
You offered him the fakest smile that you could muster, saying, “Yes, Master, I’m alright. Let’s just get inside, it’s almost dark.” The setting sun was directly to your back, illuminating him in front of you like he was something to be marvelled at. And to your defense, Anakin Skywalker was definitely something to be marvelled at. His chiseled cheeks only looked more distinguished in the golden light, along with his dark brown hair that seemed to catch it just right. It made you feel weak in the knees, these thoughts of him, and you knew it was wrong to think of him in such ways - but you just couldn’t stop. Every time you tried to vilify him in your mind, another reason why you should love popped right back up in its place. It was a deadly cycle that you have shamelessly fallen victim to, and there was nothing that you could do to stop it or further this attraction. It was forbidden.
The moment that you stepped into the building, a sigh left your lips, eyes taking in all your surroundings. It was marvellous. There were marbled stone floors that were covered in rugs in some places, plush couches in the middle of the room, and off to the side were the counters of the kitchen, all looking as if no one had ever stepped foot in here. Suddenly you felt out of place here, like you weren’t good enough to live in such a lavish way. After all, your temple rooms were nothing compared to this. They were bland, sandy and brown colors everywhere. Only a dresser with a small mirror and a bed were in it. Yet here, there were different hues of reds, greens, and blues, tables and chairs and fancy lamps, and plants that added almost another dimension to the already breathtaking house.
“It’s - It’s,” You started, not able to find the correct words for what you were trying to say.
Luckily, Anakin finished your sentence, “Breathtaking. It’s breathtaking.”
You turned to look back at him, taking in his features for just a moment more.
Breathtaking, you thought to yourself. Yes, everything here is just breathtaking.
-
The soft silks of your bed sheets rolled between your fingers, tempting you to lay into bed and never get back up. How on Earth were you supposed to keep training when you were living like this? You could imagine yourself, not as a Jedi but as a normal person, eating wild berries as you sat on your bed near the balcony, looking towards the horizon and not having one single worry in that head of yours. It was tantalizing, the perfect picture in your mind of what you wished to be.
“You think too loud.”
You spun around to only be met with your Master, who was leaning against your doorframe effortlessly. A heat rose up to your cheeks, realizing that you hadn’t been taking the proper precautions of keeping those thoughts only to yourself. They were just little flings of ideas, nothing too brash that could get you into any trouble. “Sorry, Master, I shouldn’t have been thinking of slacking off when we have work to do in the coming days.”
A chuckle escaped his lips from deep within his chest. “It’s okay, Y/N, really, if I am being honest, I was thinking the same not too long ago.”
That was shocking news to you. You always thought that Anakin always wanted to be on the run, as if this trip that he had to take with you was annoying to him because he had to take time away from the front lines of the war. But it also made sense, even victorious war generals get tired sooner or later. Perhaps you didn’t know him as much as you thought that you did. This trip wasn’t just for you, it was for the both of you. It was good to go back to basics, remember the first feelings of the force and go from there.
“And here I was thinking that you didn’t want to be here,” You mused.
Your Master laughed at your jest. “No, quite the opposite. It’ll be nice to take a step back from life for a little bit and get some much needed rest.”
“I didn’t know that General Skywalker knew what rest meant,” You continued on your playful banter.
“I don’t,” He chuckled. “Maybe you can teach me?”
Now that sends you through a loop. You knew that he was probably just playing around with you, since you were teasing him a little bit. But that sentence was enough for that place in your mind to unlock all the fantasies you had in your head about him, the ones that you only dared touch when you knew you were alone and it was the dead of night so no was there to read them. You held yourself back from becoming flustered, knowing the moment you showed any signs of it that he would know that something was up. Instead you simply nodded your head, taking your eyes off of him to the balcony that was open to your room, seeing the way that the moonlight illuminated the waves of the water. “Perhaps after training tomorrow, we could go by the water?” You asked him.
“Sure thing,” Anakin said, turning on his heel and making his way out of your room. You took a sigh of relief at his absence, not because you wanted him gone, but because seeing him in such a leisurely setting was starting to get to your head. That dizzy feeling that got to your head every time you looked at him for too long started to subside, and you were left with only your thoughts as you put away some robes you packed for the stay.
The moment that your head hit the soft, plush pillow of your large bed, you were completely enveloped by sleep. In your dreams you only saw you and Anakin, happy and smiling in the gracious flower fields of Naboo, preparing meals together half dressed in the kitchen, and falling asleep in each other's arms. It was so real and lifelike that when you woke up in the morning, you felt as if you had awoken from an alternate universe.
-
Anakin didn’t know what he was doing.
Of course he was excited to be able to take a break from the long, withheld war between the Republic and the Separatists, but at the same time he knew that being alone with you was going to be a struggle for him. Anakin loved to train you, he really did. You were a loyal Padawan to the Order and was eager to learn the ways of the Force by his instruction. He knew the moment that he saw you that he wanted to train you. But he hadn’t prepared for him to become so emotionally attached to you, and it was tearing the young Jedi apart.
It was incredibly taboo of him to gain these feelings for two reasons. One: the Jedi were forbidden from attachment. And although Anakin hadn’t been known for following all the rules of the Jedi, he knew that attachment could possibly lead to dark places if he wasn’t careful. Two: you were his Padawan. It may have been different if you were within the same ranks as him, but you were not. He was supposed to be your teacher, and there was no way that he would take advantage of his position of power over you if you were not willing.
He, too, was having doubts about this vacation. Anakin almost asked his First in Command, Rex, if he would accompany the two Jedi for the week, but there was too much going on for the clone to take time off. So it was just you and him, alone in this house on this beautiful planet. Anakin was uneasy up until the moment he walked in your room last night when for a half a second he could sense your aura from the Force, and it was also uneasy about being with him alone. It was strange, since you were clearly hiding these thoughts from him with your mental shields whenever you were around him. But the moment he left you alone, those shields came down.
“Don’t think about keeping yourself up, the Force will do that on it’s own as long as you keep the connection with it. Focus on the rocks,” Anakin told you, walking around you in circles as you were in a handstand, mentally bringing up some rocks off the ground and stacking them off to your side. This was generally a lesson that a youngling would be given, though it was a good mental exercise. And in Anakin’s opinion: it was way better than meditating. “Feel it flow through you, allow it to take you over and become one with it.” These were the same things that Master Obi-Wan had taught him.
It was a bright, sunny day. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky as the time reached a little bit past noon. Training outside in the fields of Naboo were easier than doing so at the Jedi Temple, considering there was more nature that was akin to all aspects of the force. And the sun felt good on both of your skin, smelling the natural air that had a fluorescent scent to it rather than the smog and industrial life of Coruscant.
Your muscles were beginning to strain from underneath you as your head tilted to the side, watching all the rocks fall into place to your left. Even though the Force provided much needed relief on your arms, they were beginning to let out. There was one more rock for you to move and it was the smallest one, a tiny little pebble that needed to go on the top. It was such a small mass, yet with all of this mental and physical strain, it felt like a boulder to move across the air slowly with your mind. All you wanted was for Master Skywalker to feel proud of you. You wanted to see that smile on his face as you lifted that last pebble up and was allowed to finish your studies for the day.
The more you concentrated, the more you could feel the Force flow right through you. It could be felt in the tingling of your palms, sending vibrations towards the center of your chest while your blood flowed. Almost more importantly, you could feel Anakin’s eyes on you, waiting patiently for you to make your next move. Slowly, but surely, the little pebble made its way towards the top of the stacked rocks. Your eyes widened with joy, but immediately squinted back up when it shook a tiny bit. The moment that the bottom of it hit the top, you released your much concentrated attachment with the Force, and allowed yourself to fall seamlessly to the ground. The blood rushed back to your head, making your eyes darken to adjust. Once you could see again, you saw Anakin standing over you, that grin you had looked forward to seeing on his face.
“Not bad, Padawan,��� He said in an appealing tone, extending a hand to help you up to your feet. You were quick to take it, ignoring the way that your heart soared as your skin touched against his skin. “We should go back to the house.” He almost turned and began walking away, but you scrunch your nose up and kept his hand in a tight grip, prompting him to look right back at you with a confused look. “What’s up?”
“You promised we could go to the water afterwards,” You told him, hoping that you were jogging his memory from last night.
But you didn’t need to jog Anakin’s memory, because he had been thinking about it ever since you asked. Thinking about having to watch you submerge under the water and come back up, drops of clear blue dripping down your exposed shoulders, and keeping himself from doing something that he would most likely regret when you would reject him, scolding him for his thinking. He thought about the way he wanted to put his hands on your hips and pull you as close as you possibly could get to him, taking the opportunity to pepper kisses along your smooth skin. It killed him to think that you probably didn’t think the same way about him, it was going to goddamn tear him apart.
Nevertheless, he wasn’t going to go back on his promise to you. It was the least he could do after thinking such sinful things about you. Anakin’s gave you a nod and walked beside you on the short trail to the large lake. You could hear the water ripple towards the small shoreline, coming up and then receding back again in a timely fashion. You kicked off your shoes, deciding that your tank top and pants were okay to get wet, especially since you wouldn’t take the risk of undressing in front of Anakin. As much as the thought was tempting, you knew better than to test your luck. Anakin watched with intensity as you got into the water, going deep enough to where only the tops of your shoulders and up were exposed. Maker, he cursed himself, did you have to look so good barely doing anything?
You cocked your head to the side. “Well . . . are you going to get in or just stare at me?” You asked, immediately submerging yourself under the water to ignore what he had to say about your teasing. Your heart thumped profusely as you sat there under the water holding your breath. Anakin had been looking at you.
He mentally cursed himself once again, taking his shoes off and following you into the water. It did feel good, the water having an almost calming effect over him as he walked deeper in the lake. He looked around him, taking in the appearance of all the beautiful trees that lined up, beautiful fruit hanging off of the branches. Little flowers were along the bay, facing right towards him as if they were welcoming him to their home.
The sun spilled harsh rays along his skin, causing Anakin to dip his head down fully into the water. Once he came back up for air, his eyes shifted over to you, both of you holding a type of eye contact that you swore almost knocked your breath out. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, like he was looking right into your soul and you to his, a sense of desire burning a pit in your stomach. Feeling exposed, you shifted your gaze to the fish swimming in the water near you. You could still feel his eyes on you, in them holding truths that he wished to tell you, but being unable to put the words together to explain.
-
“There’s something that you’re not telling me.”
Your eyes opened at your Master’s voice and looked directly at him. You had been meditating on your bed before sleeping, knowing that you hadn’t gotten the necessary amount of meditating that you needed for the day. At the temple they usually kept you on some kind of schedule, though here with Anakin rules were a little - no, more loose than normal.
Anakin once again stood in your doorframe, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed in, like he didn’t feel like he had a place stepping into your bedroom. You searched his face to gauge a feeling for what he was talking about, looking for hints of mischief or anger. There was nothing, his face was completely blank, almost too blank like he was hiding something from you.
You knew you had nothing to hide - or at least nothing that he should know about. “I don’t know what you mean, Master,” You replied, uncrossing your legs from their criss cross position and hugging them close to your chest. “Have I done something wrong?”
That answer seemed to not satisfy him, because for a moment something flickered in his eyes. “No, nothing like that,” He told you, furrowing his brows together and taking a tentative step closer into your room. “It’s just, I get this feeling when I’m around you. Your force signature . . . like something is just gnawing at you and I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Oh, you were screwed. Alarms blared in your mind, thinking about how you had let your thoughts run too much during this trip. All the worst outcomes of this came to your mind, like how he would laugh at your growing feelings towards him, how much you wanted him almost shamelessly. It made your stomach twist into several knots, wanting to bury yourself into a hole and never ever come out of it again.
Your face and the Force must’ve told it all, because he spoke again, saying, “There. Right there. I can feel it, Y/N. Just talk to me. What is going on?” Your bottom lip quivered, knowing that there was no way you were getting out of this. This was it. The day you had been dreading and hoping didn’t come. Everything was about to come crash down onto your life.
“I can’t,” You said in a low voice, shifting your weight to sit at the edge of the bed, putting your head into your hands and staring down at the plush carpet in an attempt to get away from his stare. Almost as if you thought if you looked away long enough, he would suddenly disappear.
“What do you mean ‘you can’t’? You’re my Padawan, you can tell me anything.”
Padawan. The title felt foreign in your mind now. It was something that you knew you couldn’t hold onto for much longer once the truth was out. You would be stripped of it and be a Jedi no more. The council would hear of your feelings and immediately expel you. Padawan. Padawan. Padawan. The more the word bounced around in your mind the more you felt tears welling up into your eyes.
And you didn’t mean to sound so harsh when you said it, but your hands were balling up into fists as you said, “That’s what’s wrong!” Your head tilted up, seeing that Anakin had walked closer to you, towering over your frame. His face showed confusion, not understanding what you were alluding to. He didn’t even have to say it, but his expression was saying explain.
How could you even begin?
You were wordless.
“Please . .  . I just want to help you,” Anakin told you, his hand coming to grab onto your forearm. The touch felt like hot coals on your body, scorching your soul. “I don’t like seeing you like this.” Which you knew translated to I don’t like not knowing how to fix it.
“It’s you,” You confessed. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
For a moment, Anakin thought that he had stepped into some parallel universe. Or that this was some sort of prank let on by someone else. There was no way that this was happening, you were confessing. You had been thinking about him, probably as much as he was thinking about you. It felt as if the world had turned on its axis and was spinning the opposite direction.
You, on the other hand, was waiting for the words that never came. You expected him to immediately tell you that he was going to report you to the Council. And yet, he stood there, almost looking as dumbfounded as you did, maybe even more. This prompted you to stand up, his hand falling down and getting dangerously close to your own.
“I know . . .” You started again, seeing as he wasn’t going to say anything. “I know that it’s wrong, that I shouldn’t be thinking of you in the ways that I am. But I can’t stop, Anakin, you consume me.”
The usage of his name snapped him back to reality and out of his own spinning thoughts, and hearing it come from specifically your lips was not helping his frame of mind. It sounded . . . different coming from your mouth. Like you were saying it like a praise rather than just a passing phrase like most people did. He wanted you to say it over and over again, repeating it like a mantra you were to speak or you would die if you didn’t. His eyes flickered into your own and saw how scared you were of how he would react and how he was definitely not helping to settle your nerves.
In truth, he didn’t know how to handle this situation. After all, this was not a lesson that had been given to him and he was definitely not in the best place to tell you anything, since his emotions were starting to cloud his judgement and all he could think was how he wished to tell you he felt the same way.
You waited for his response, getting impatient and wanting to just get this over with. You were waiting for the words he was supposed to say.
But Anakin didn’t always do the things he was supposed to do.
“You and I both know that forming attachments isn’t allowed,” Anakin said. “And yet I can’t stop thinking about kissing you.”
A visible look of shock washed over your face, mouth opening slightly and eyes widening, heart pounding against your ribcage. His hand reached down and grabbed your own, fingertips softly touching the palm of your hand. This felt like a dream. Were you sure that you weren’t dreaming? No, this was definitely real. Anakin was in front of you for sure, confessing that he was feeling the exact same way.
Anakin tipped his head down to meet your own, his breath fanning along your face, making you shiver. Your breath hitched in your throat, his lips brushing against your own, almost like he was testing you. You could feel the tips of his hair tickling against your forehead, nose against nose. You were so close. The hand on your own was grasping now, pulling your body close to his. And the two of you sat there, lips millimeters close while each of your minds buzzed with the feeling of doing something so daring.
You felt yourself going mad, you couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t wait. All of your feelings erupted inside of your throat and suddenly you were kissing him, lips smashing against his own with no care in the world. You didn’t care about the Council, the Code . . . anything. All you cared about was Anakin, wanting as much of him that he was willing to give you.
You had never really kissed anyone before. There was a moment back when you were only ten and you were with another youngling, seeing one of the citizens of Coruscant kissing each other on the street. Interested in what they were doing, you and your friend kissed, thinking that it was weird and dismissing it. That had been your first kiss, a rather embarrassing one, but it was nothing compared to the way Anakin kissed you. He kissed you like there was a purpose to every single move of his muscles. He kissed you like you were forbidden fruit and he was starving.
His other hand came up to the back of your neck, tangling in your hair and keeping your face close to his. For just a moment his tongue slipped into your mouth and you made a small sound, butterflies swarming in your stomach. You tried to mimic what he was doing, going with your instincts and grasping onto his bicep, feeling the taut muscles under your touch.
Everything about yours and his actions were needy and hungry, wanting each other with such need that you had pushed down for so long. All of it seemed to come out of you like crashing waves. The kissing was nice, though after a while you needed more, you were dying for more of him. Please, Anakin, you thought.
What do you want, Padawan? He asked through his thoughts to you, hand coming to caress your face to look down at you. You looked into those big, blue eyes of his that never ceased to awaken something within you.
“You, Anakin, I want you,” You whispered to him, as if someone was going to hear if you talked too loud. “Please.” You thought that you probably sounded like someone desperate, and in a way you were, you had waited for this forever and had convinced yourself that it would never happen. But he thought the exact opposite, he marvelled in the way that you looked at him, wanting to show you how much you truly meant to him. The attraction and lust was there, intermingled with something more that neither of you dared to acknowledge.
He didn’t hesitate to give you what you wanted, slowly inching you towards the bed and helping you rest on your back, the silk sheets against the back of your arms and neck. Anakin was quick to follow, climbing on top of you and connecting his lips onto the skin right below your jaw. His lips were soft like snowflakes falling onto your skin, creating a masterpiece on your skin like you were his canvas. It all felt too good, the Force heightening the sensations to an almost unbearable amount. It sent shockwaves to your core, igniting a feeling you often only felt during the late hours of the night.
Seeing how well your body responded to him, well, almost drove Anakin crazy. You were so willing, so ready for him that his mind became cloudy, the only thing he could make out was his thoughts of you. Nothing about the war, the Council, the fact that he was your Master . . . It all blew away with the wind. His lips trailed down from your jaw to your neck, paying extra attention to the places that made you breath out more than the others. Your hands found their respective place in his hair, feeling the softness of the dirty blonde curls between your fingers.
Your clothes suddenly felt foreign on your body, you wanted them off, you wanted his off so that you could see all of him. He seemed to hear your thoughts, humming against your skin and pulling away, pressing a soft, firm kiss to your lips and helping you get out of them, and in turn you helped him get out of his.
Anakin’s body was like nothing you imagined. He was breathtaking. You knew that he had a nice body because of all the training and countless amounts of physical strain he has been through, but looking at those abs that he had, along with the sun kissed skin he had, you felt your throat close up, feeling inferior to what he looked like. “You’re beautiful, Y/N,” He spoke to your thoughts. “Don’t ever think that you’re not.” And you believed him.
His hands came to your hips, fingers toying with the fabric of your underwear that was the only thing blocking him from seeing you fully. His eyes scanned you, taking in the sheer and utter beauty before him. He wanted to kiss, lick, and nip on every single inch of skin on you. He wanted to learn each and every single curve, hear every story behind your scars, and know just what touches would have you squirming from underneath him.
No one has seen you this exposed before. You didn’t know whether or not to feel embarrassed, because he seemed to know what he was doing. It was not that you had taken the Jedi code to heart, but you simply hadn’t known anyone that you found enough to take that last piece of innocence from you - no one except Master Skywalker. And only now did you actually realize what was going to happen.
Your whole body felt hot, needing to feel the release that was beginning to build up from all of his kisses and your imagination running its course. “Anakin,” You breathed out, not knowing how to form into words what you wanted from him. Of course he knew, he could feel your force signature morph into something almost sinful, something he was sure he was emitting himself. After all, neither of you were hiding anything anymore. He knew exactly what he was going to do to you so that he could hear the plethora of moans that he knew you had just for him, wanting to hear his name come off of your lips in pleasure.
His head ducked down and kissed your hipbone, fingers hooking under your underwear and slowly sliding them off. Your eyes stayed on his actions, mouth forming into an ‘O’ when you realized what he was going to do. He was going to use his mouth on you. These were only things that you thought in your deepest, darkest fantasies, like he had reached into those parts of your mind and did exactly what you wanted.
As if Anakin was just tempting you, he pressed another slow kiss to the inside of your thigh and then did the same thing to the other side. Your hips lifted up only slightly, showing him that you couldn’t wait much longer. A chuckle left him, eyes reaching your own and saying, “Eager?” You weren’t even ashamed when you shook your head, keeping eye contact with him as he licked a bold stripe right up your slit. It felt as if an earthquake hit your body, your back arching and hands gripping onto his hair.
He hummed against you, liking the way that you responded to his actions. If he had it his way, he would sit here with you like this for hours on end, bringing you up to that high place again and again until you were a wrecked mess before him. It made him simply go crazy to think that he was the first person to ever do this to you, that he would be the first of anyone to hear those moans and profanities that slipped from your cherry kissed lips. Anakin’s own thoughts made him groan out, a noise that you played on repeat in your mind as your eyes screwed closed.
Your thighs quivered beside his face, attempting to squeeze shut so that you could keep him there forever. But his hands came and held them in place, fingers digging into your muscles that gave in to his touch like it was nothing. You were putty in his hands, the only movement you had was your hands pulling on his hair and the arch of your back while he lapped his tongue against you with no mercy.
“Stay still,” He told you, pulling away for a moment to lick what was left of you on his lips. You nodded, chest heaving and heart sinking at the loss of contact. But Anakin didn’t leave for long, his mouth on your clit accompanied with one of his fingers circling your entrance. You nearly lost it when he dipped his middle finger in experimentally, gauging your reaction. You could feel the coil in your stomach start to tighten, which only amplified once his finger pushed into you all the way.
You didn’t even attempt to try and censor the obscenities that came out of your mouth, mixed in rhyme with his name. Anakin. Anakin. Anakin. It was the only word that felt real in your mind.
You waited for that final jump towards a euphoric end, but it never came. Instead Anakin pulled away from you and his fingers left, making you feel uneasily empty. Opening your eyes, you saw that he was pulling down his boxers, taking his cock into his hands and watching as you almost became slack jawed - realizing what was about to happen. A moment of worry nestled its way into your mind, making your heart thump. If anyone was to find out, you would surely not be accepted back into the Order. You would never be able to have Anakin again. Jedi were not to fear, and yet here you were, fearing that you would lose the one person that you cared about - the only one you knew cared about you.
It was your moment to choose. You knew that if you backed out, at least you would be able to work under him still and not have his affections. It would be better than never seeing him again. And yet, you couldn’t see your life without him, all of him. Not just the side that was your Master.
Anakin sensed your worry, taking your chin in his hands so that you looked up at him. “Are you sure?” He asked you, not wanting to move forward before you were ready. And God, were you ready.
And with all the courage that you mustered up, you gave him a small smile and said, “Yes.” You felt like you were flinging yourself off of some sort of cliff, or even more sinfully feeling like you were Persephone, cutting up her own slice of pomegranate and looking right into Hades eyes as she tasted the fruit, securing your fate that you would stay with him. You would stay with Anakin, even if it was only for this night.
He nestled between your legs and you could feel his tip press against your entrance. Air was caught in your lungs, sitting up on your elbows so that you could see as he eased himself into you. A sting of pain and a subtle feeling of pleasure was seated inside of you, watching as his cock be enveloped by you inch by inch. Anakin hissed at the feeling, you were so goddamn tight and he never wanted to stop from being inside of you. Once all of him was inside, he leaned over so his head was in the crook of your neck, pressing a kiss to your searing skin as you adjusted to him bottoming out.
You urged him to continue, thinking that the discomfort would soon go away with time. And you were eager to get all of him that you could, temptation coming forward instead of reason. He pulled out all the way then eased himself back in, continuing the slower pace and watching your reaction before him, your hands reaching to his back and finding their place there. One of his hands kept your legs open, taking you by your thigh and hoisting it up.
It took all that he could muster to not just ram into you, the want starting to cloud his judgment. The Force felt as if it was pushing both you and him towards each other, the connection almost driving each of you crazy. “You feel . . .” He started. “You feel so good.” That alone, along with the raspiness in his voice, made a fire erupt in your stomach. You sighed in response, eyes fluttering closed once again.
And then, much to his surprise, you whispered, “Go faster, Anakin.” You needed him so bad you felt like you were going to explode, lust enveloping the both of you and intertwining with your Force energies.
He didn’t need to be told twice, and he gripped onto the leg he lifted up, beginning a slightly faster rhythm that had you arching your neck and eyes rolling to the back of your head. Anakin was so big, stretching you out in just the right way that had you almost keeling over if he hadn’t had such a tight grip on you. Your one leg wrapped along his waist, heel digging into his back while his pace increased.
This angle he had you in made you yelp and moan shamelessly, not caring if people all the way in the capital could hear you as you yelled his name like a prayer. His pace finally became a fast rhythm and you found comfort in being to finally feel nothing but pleasure with every deep stroke he made.
In this place, it was only you and him. Like you were in your own little place of paradise where you could explore each other in every way. There was nothing that could take this moment from you or him, this moment would forever be engraved in your mind for many years to come, remembering the way that he moaned out your name and the way he looked when you opened your eyes to peek at his face. His brows were furrowed, sweat beading on his forehead and mouth spilled open saying nothing but your name.
He made you feel so good, so euphoric that the fire grew and grew, becoming a wildfire raging inside of you. And you looked so heavenly to him, the way that your eyes only looked at him, breasts bouncing with every harsh thrust he gave you. You took him so well, like you were made for only him. His hips brushed against your own, hand coming up to caress your cheek, forcing you to look at him in the eyes.
You weren’t going to last much longer. Not with the way that he was pounding into you with sheer force you didn’t know was possible until now. But you didn’t want this to end, you never wanted this to end in fear that things would go back to the way they were before. You would have to try and forget that this ever happened. It wasn’t something you wanted to do and didn’t even know if you had the strength to do it. After this moment both of you would be connected.
You made a guttural noise, teetering over the edge of what felt like a wave of bliss. This was it, there was no way that you could keep yourself from it now. It only took a singular deep stroke of his cock to send you right over the edge, your back arching and body spasming, his name rolling off of your tongue in the most sinful way you have ever said it before. Your hands gripped for any part of him that you could reach, groping his muscles to keep him close to you. He didn’t stop moving inside of you, making you ride it out even harder as he chased his own high.
You were so sensitive as he fucked into you, giving you no mercy. He groaned as you came, watching the way that your eyes screwed shut and mouth opening in as you sucked in harsh breaths. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you and you knew that he was close, wondering if he was going to cum inside of you or pull out before he did. He did the latter, taking one more deep stroke before pulling out. Anakin was about to start stroking himself with his hand but you rushed with your own to meet him there, using your own and pumping a few times.
A string of profanities came from his lips as he came, white hot liquid spurting onto your stomach, dripping like beads coating your skin. He had no shame as he shuddered, muscles flexing with every passing second. He drank in your body, seeing how wet you were for him, how soft your hand was on his cock, how much he longed to see you like this more times before you and him left back for the war. And soon enough he was finished, the only thing between both of you was both of your panting breaths.
Anakin moved to grab something on the floor, realizing that it was the shirt he had on before and moving to wipe your stomach off, dropping it to the floor and coming to lay down next to you. You winced for a moment as you moved to look at him, his own eyes staring at the ceiling. You were scared of what was to come next, if there was anything that was supposed to come next. You knew that the two of you couldn’t be together, at least openly, though it was even risky to continue doing something like this in private.
“Anakin,” You called out to him, forcing him to look at you. “What will happen next?”
“I don’t know, Y/N, I don’t know,” He responded. All he knew was that he wanted you, again and again. In the domestic moments and in the explicit ones like before. You were so tantalizing, and he realized now that because he had tasted the forbidden fruit that was you, he would never be able to stop. There was simply no way that he would be able to conceal his want for you from you anymore.
You waited for his answer, knowing that it would probably be one you didn’t want to hear. But for the second time this evening, Anakin surprised you again.
He leaned over and kissed you.
And you knew his answer from that.
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rantrambles · 3 years
Text
Ever get so upset you make a Tumblr account to vent?
I haven’t even listened to The Penumbra Podcast yet but it’s on my list because it’s insanely popular and the cosplays I’ve seen are hot as hell (A+ to all the cosplayers I’ve seen you’ve done great work). Now, with the recent news surrounding the podcast, I’ll wait till it’s done if I ever do get into it. I’m Asian and part of the LGBT community but I’m not nonbinary so I can’t say much about the trans represention in the art but I wanted to add my two cents on the matter as a person of color and someone examining the situation from the outside. Also, before I get deeply into it, I’m not the only person of color with opinions on this matter so if people have their own frustrations and criticism with the racism in The Penumbra Podcast and/or the new artist they hired, definitely listen to them too. These are my own personal opinions, and I’m sure other people will disagree and that’s fine. We’re all going to have different views on this so bear that in mind. Also, feel free to correct me or add anything if I’ve missed some information. Here’s a great breakdown of the whole situation for those that don’t know what happened. Finally, I was very hesitant to post this, but I felt it was important because I make a statement at the end on how race should be presented in a podcast format so if you are interested in making a podcast and want to have a diverse range of characters, please skip to the end to read those thoughts.
I’ll start off by saying, I’m not even that upset with the new artist that The Penumbra Podcast hired. I know that statement alone is controversial but I don't personally know them, and I’m not going to judge who they are as a person by a few pieces of art they’ve made. They are the least of the problems that I have here. Since the announcement and the backlash, I’ve been scrolling through the artist’s Instagram account and I can tell why people find the designs offensive, but I’m also comparing the designs to the artist’s other work, and I honestly believe that’s just their style. They’ve exaggerated the features of just about every character they’ve made, regardless of race or gender. From what I’ve seen the sharp angles and overly round curves in the anatomy that make some of the character’s features more jarring are how they prefer to draw. I’m sure they’re capable of drawing more realistic proportions but for the most part they’re art aims to call attention, be bold, and create distinguished features. Not inherently a bad thing on its own.
And yeah I’d understand the issue if this were a scenario where the artist heard how these characters acted in the podcast and thought “hey, obviously this character is a black woman because they are super strong and therefore must have big muscles, no other woman could look like that” or “hey, this character has to be Asian because they act super seductive sometimes better draw them as such.” But from my understanding the race was already decided by previous official artists and a general description of the characters were already generated by the audience, similar to how The Magnus Archives leaned towards drawing scrawny Jon with black, greying hair and dark skin. The new artists couldn’t really change those features even if those features aren’t described in canon because a depiction that strayed too far from popular fandom interpretation would make the character’s unrecognizable to the fanbase. 
I think the reason this became such a big issue for most people is because the new Penumbra artist used their exaggerated art style when making these characters and people of color and nonbinary folks already see themselves drawn as these exaggerated caricatures all the time (with those images being used to further discriminate against them). I’m sure the artist didn’t mean for their art to be offensive, but that of course doesn’t change how it was received. 
According to some, the poses and expressions the artists chose did not fully represent the characters entirely and only served to further perpetuate harmful stereotypes, and I’ll have to take their word for it because I still haven’t listened to the podcast so I have no idea how the characters act. But again much of the criticism is based on the one line-up and doing a deeper dive into the artist’s work I managed to find artwork that was much less offensive. Here some art where Vespa is depicted in a non-violent pose and one where Vespa is in a threatening pose but not an overly violent one. Here is Peter drawn in a non-seductive pose. Hopefully, the artist truly does keep the criticisms in mind as they work on the new official art. I’m just not the type of person that wants to get the pitchforks out and cause this particular person to lose a job they seemed really excited about over their old character line-up, especially when that person is also part of a marginalized group.
Again, that’s just my opinion on that particular artist. Those who are offended by their art are still valid in how they feel, and the artist should absolutely take their criticism to heart to better how they represent the characters.
What I’m more upset about is that I think The Penumbra Podcast should never have released official art for their characters in the first place and that’s their mistake that they refuse to own up about. They have made it clear that the story was never meant to portray characters of colors, a fact emphasized by the fact they hired mostly white actors from the start. They only started releasing art of the characters to get a profit. And the thing is they know what they did was wrong. All I had to do was search Penumbra Podcast racism and there is a note on their website saying that they archived some old official art.
“We have discontinued all Penumbra merchandise that uses the original character designs, and in the meantime, any profits on the sales of that merchandise will go to the For The Gworls project. We also realize that the depiction of these characters as POC, while not appropriate for us to use in our marketing and merchandise, has nonetheless become personally meaningful to many POC listeners. For that reason, and because we do not wish to distance ourselves from our mistake, we are keeping these images on our website for archival purposes. Though we do want to make it clear that many of the main/featured voice actors are white and that we did not write the characters to represent any specific POC experience, you are, as always, free to imagine these characters in any way that you like.”
I went to their shop and they still sell posters and pins with the character’s faces on them, but they are donating it to a good cause so hopefully that stays the same. However, I still find it a little uncomfortable that they are still selling character merch and have plans to continue selling character merch. They have no right to dissuade the fans that already found representation in the characters, but they also have no right to profit off the representation that was built, regardless if they made the story. 
Let’s compare this to another piece of popular media. I love Avatar the Last Airbender and, I liked the ATLA voice actors just fine but there should have been more people of color doing voice acting behind the screen too. The voice actors for that show were mainly white too, however, the creators knew that they would be making poc characters. That’s what makes the difference. Did they still choose to go with mostly white voice actors? Yes. Could they have done better and pay more people of color? Also yes. But I’m not as furious at them because they did their research on the cultures they were basing the ATLA world off of and intentionally gave us a show where Asians could see characters that looked like them represented on the screen. The Penumbra Podcast did not do any of that. Again, they openly admitted that it was never their intention to make the character’s people of color when they made the podcast so that goes to show no research was made to properly represent specific cultures. The color of the character’s skin in their official designs therefore became more of aesthetic choice rather than representation, and it wasn’t even their aesthetic choice to begin with!
Race isn’t a color you can just throw onto the character because you feel like it. So I want this to be a lesson to anyone that wants to make a podcast: if you want to include poc characters please do some research into the cultures you plan to represent the way you would with any other form of media. Just because the audience can’t see the characters and just because it’s harder to smoothly introduce the character’s appearance doesn’t mean you’re allowed to be lazy on how you present the characters. Do research before you start writing the first episode and take the time to hire poc actors. Hiring poc actors is actually the least that can be done to show representation. Also, since the audience cannot visually see the race of the characters on a podcast and it can’t typically be described the way you would in a book, you’ll have to be creative. It’s not my job to say how, but my suggestions would be, before the fans come up with their own image of the character, you need to establish race in the first few episodes or release character profiles on a website so that the fans know you canonically intended the characters to be of a certain race even if you aren’t able to mention it in the actual podcast. If you are unwilling to do any of these then the best route is to avoid stating race at all and allow the audience to build their own representation into your form of media. However, once this happens, you are not allowed to profit off popular fan interpretations. You lose all rights to create official art or images of the characters. You cannot use “we have a diverse cast of characters” when you market your story. It doesn’t matter whether you created the content or not, you did not create the representation for those minority groups.
It’s one thing for fans to build their own inclusivity into a form of art like a podcast, but it’s another thing for the creators who never worked to make the representation happen to take advantage of the representation that the listeners built for themselves. Thank you for attending my TedTalk.
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thekillingjoke-haha · 3 years
Text
Love And Marriage
Spnquotebingo @spnquotebingo
Quote: You don't save a marriage by sleeping with other people.–Lucifer
Mostly Memory: slant/bold. Quote:small/bold
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"What the hell, Anthony!" She yelled scaring both brunettes in the bed she shared with him. The women who looked half her age scrambled off the bed in a rush and ran out of the room getting dressed as she ran out the tower. This time she was throwing objects at the genius screaming and swearing every word under the sun. And yes this wasn't the first time, but its sure as hell will be the last. "How could you do this to me!? Time and time again I forgive and you do it again!!" She tried taking control of her emotions, but they over took her and laid everything out on the table.
Tony slipped on his clothes yelling back and forth with his wife. It was a screaming match that all of New York could hear. "Maybe if you weren't such a controlling bitch I wouldn't need to rush into the arms of a women that would get off my back!" He yelled back and she was stunned into silence. Tony continued talking. "Ever since we been together you've been trying to change who I am and I got sick of it, but you were America's golden girl I couldn't dump you. You just couldn't take the hint ,sweetheart." He finished his intoxicated words got the better of him, but drunk words were sober thoughts and maybe this is exactly how he felt after all these years.
"I want a divorce." She said her voice shaking not wanting to cry in front of the man she loved and she thought loved her back. "What?!" He turned on his heels and stared at her the shouting didn't sober him up, but those four words did. "What did you say?" He asked as if he didn't hear her. "I'm through, Tony. I'm tired of this back and forth. You said it yourself your not willing to change your partying playboy ways so I'm through." She said as she went to get her phone to call her brother. "I want a divorce." Those were the final words uttered to him before she stopped talking to him all together taking off the ring made from the metal of his original reactor the diamond glowing the same blue that lulled her to sleep. Y/n twirled the ring in-between her fingers a nervous habit after the years.
Steve got to the tower from his apartment along with Bucky and Sam. His two friends walked into her bedroom to hear Tony shouting and pleading for her to listen to him. Steve went to his sister as his friends pulled the thrashing man out of the room and to a different part of the building so he could cool off. Tony in the end didn't calm down and was getting violent to the point they had to knock him out and by then Y/n was getting packed with the help of Steve
The suitcase was harshly zipped up as she rushed closing it. Tears flowed freely down her face as she packed all her things well all the things she bought herself. She wasn't running, running was for cowards she was escaping before she drowned herself in whatever kind of love she once had with her husband. Y/n breathed in through her nose as her body convulsed with another fit of silent sobs. Trying to calm down she wanted to get think clear. Did she really want to leave? No, but he didn't give her much of a choice. The light tan line on her finger just further proved she wasn't turning back...not this time. Not even for him. Y/n needed time to think without the threat of the end of the world and out from under her now ex's crushing ego.
She was shacking with anger and in grief it happened again and she was done with it all. Tony fucking Stark her husband, lover, best friend cheated on her again for the third time that she knew of. Y/n saw it she was always there at the wrong time almost like he wanted her to see how pleased he was with another. Steve came out of the bathroom with more hygiene products. "How are you feeling? Are you okay?" He asked for what feels like the hundredth time. Steve knew Y/n wasn't okay he could see it and the sight made him want to rip Stark a new one. With a deep inhale she looked up at him with s slight smile as real as she could make it. "I'm okay I just need to get out of here. Fresh air. New scenery if possible." She said as she looked longingly at a picture on the nightstand not noticing that her brother left with her bags while she stared off. The picture was of her fifth date with Tony after being together as boyfriend and girlfriend for two years, a light festival their first openly public date for cameras to capture them together making it official. America's Sweetheart with a Playboy billionaire...that headline alone should have been the first of many red flags.
The memory played vividly in her mind. Her eyes shined like stars as she dragged him behind her. It was still light outside and the small park was crowded. "Come on, Tones!" She said excitedly as she dragged him along. Many people looked at them and whispered, but they didn't care. They spent the night talking about any and everything it felt so natural. Y/n stared into the sky on their picnic blanket having already painted her lantern with a good amount of wet paint still on her hands. "We've been on what feels like a million dates and this seems like the perfect one to ask you. Will you marry me?" Tony said holding a black velvet box with a f/c diamond ring. "I thought you'll never ask!" She pulled him into a kiss paint covering his cheeks as lanterns where released. He kissed back hands resting on her hips. "Let's go home Mrs.Stark-Rogers." Tony said with a smile. "Well come on then Mr.Rogers-Stark." He was once again dragged away. "No no no my name first Steve will not hold that over me!" Y/n giggled as the memory faded into a much older one.
The twelve year old girl was getting her hair brushed by her mother. "Mama what's love like. I know you love daddy so what's it like?" She asked it's been two years since her father died ,but her mother always said she stilled loves him. "Love is a amazing feeling that doesn't happen often and sometimes it can hurt." The blonde women said to her daughter she couldn't tell her wanting love cost more then giving it. "Why will it hurt?" The young h/c girl asked turning around. "You're to young to know right now, but at some point you will." By the time Y/n turned fifteen she learned that loving someone can hurt after she stood next to her brother and best friend looking at the slab of stone that marked their mother's grave.
The first time it happened she was pissed, but not at the right person at the time. The second red flag.. Screams are what filled the house as Y/n threw clothes at the tramp that was in bed with her drunk husband. She was so anger, but that just hid the pain she was feeling three years for him to cheat. After shutting the half clothes harlot out on the front porch of the Malibu home she stormed back to Tony. He stayed in his boxers on the bed looking dazed he was drunk. "Why?" Is all she could ask as tears fell down her cheeks. The billionaire stood up and walked toward her he wiped her tears. "I'll change. I promise." He kissed her head. She believed him she had faith that he couldn't change for them. After all Y/n did the same she gave up being a hero along side her brother because he told her he already worries about getting home to her as Ironman no need to add the stress of not knowing if she'll get home. So she hung up her red, white, and blue catsuit for him.
After a year Y/n sat in her art studio wear she sold her and other rising artist artwork after Tony said she shouldn't paint in the tower,she painted with her brother laughing messing with colors. She was thankful she put down plastic tarp beforehand a giggle rang out when Natasha walked through the door. Without saying anything she drops a magazine on the table of brushes next to Y/n. On the cover was Tony kissing some red head though a window tears welled in her eyes as she wiped her hands he eyes not leaving the cover till it was picked up off the table. Natasha comforted her as Steve took the magazine and paced. " Am I stupid for trusting him? Thinking he would change?" She asked as the waterworks flowed. "No ,if anyone is stupid its him. Ever since he came out as Ironman he thought he was untouchable. God imma kill him!" The red head said while Steve was flexing his hand not wanting to hit any of the stored art pieces. The third red flag for all to see.
The bus rocked back and forth as she looked over at her brother sleeping next to her. They were heading to the airport and he was going to see her off before possibly killing Tony. Speaking of she looked down at her phone and saw dozens of missed calls and hundreds of unread text. She felt that the world was so much bigger after leaving, after getting away from the place that no longer felt like a home. Turning back to the window a memory came to surface as a teenage girl sat on the bus watching old Brooklyn go by. She thought life was so slow she wanted to grow up faster and experience life. Y/n wanted to find love like her parents had. "What are you thinking about doll?" She turned and in Steve's place was Bucky her adoptive big brother. "Nothing important, James." She said with a sigh as the old modeled cares turned back to modern vehicles and yellow taxi's.
Tony woke up and ran around the tower while calling and texting his wife. "Friday track Y/n' s phone. He said as he went to the lab to get in his suit. "She's as NYC airline." The irish voice answered as he stepped into the suit letting it close around him. Before the hatch could open completely he was flying out of the tower to the airport. "Any idea which flight?" He asked wanting to get there before it's to late. "No boss, but the next flight leaving is heading for U.K and boarding in fifteen minutes." Time was running out he needed ever second he could spare. "We'll make it in ten." That night Ironman flew to save whatever he had left.
Y/n held her ticket in her shaking hands her breath uneven. Steve left after the bus dropped her off they said their goodbyes not making the separation hurt any less. Her thoughts came back to Tony all the good times made her smile, but the dark clouds took them over soon after. It felt so right to be in his arms thinking about the future they had with each other within seconds that became a distant memory. What's sad is she wants to go back wondering if she held on to those moments longer they'll last forever. The ring she slipped back on her finger weighed a ton. Y/n didn't have the strength to take it off not for good at least and this made her feel weak. Pain was heavy in her heart from the constant ache, but the little voice kept saying maybe if we tried harder he would have loved us the way we love him, maybe rushing into a relationship wasn't the best idea, maybe he's happier without us ,maybe not telling him about the positive test was the best option ,maybe...maybe.
A hand resting on her stomach she wanted to laugh, but that would have brought on a fresh wave of tears. She started off the day without Tony in bed and sicker then she's been since her pre-serum years. Y/n went to the doctor completely covered form any prying eyes and the test were clear she couldn't believe it she took about ten test in her studio bathroom before heading back to the tower. Howard warned her and Steve that the serum might sterilize them, but at the time both of them were to small and sickly and she knew getting pregnant might kill her anyways so they both agreed to it. Y/n wished she could hug the man today he made her better and let her have a gift she never thought was possible. A baby was growing inside her. Tony never really talked about kids and neither did she since that wasn't a possibility before, but the moment she held five of the clearer test she wanted to rush into his arms and have him be the first to know. That quickly fell apart that evening and now she's here.
The suit landed out side the airport and Tony immediately ran out of it into the building looking through his tented shades he followed the path Friday set for him rushing through security. "Now boarding flight A145 to United Kingdom. Ahora aborda—" The intercom rang out. He was running out of time. There he saw h/c hair one of a couple dozen in line due to the oddly timed flight. "Y/N!!" Many heads turned at the shout while so gasped and whispers started. She looked at him and froze. His eyes looked bloodshot and he wore baggy sweats and a AC/DC shirt. Turning back around she tried to get on the plane quicker, but a hand grabbed her arm. "Please listen to me. I'm so so sorry! I'm a fucking moron okay? I know I just keep screwing up between us and I know you're tired of me saying I'll change, but if it means I keep you in my life I'll do damn near anything." Tony's voice shook as his eyes welled with tears people crowed to see the Starks some seemed to clued in on the subject while others were lost. "You can't fix this Tony. There's nothing to fix between us you said your piece and actions speak louder then words there is no saving this." Y/n whimpered holding her hand in her own.
"I can save us, N/n! Please just give me a chance too. You and me against the world right?" She shook her head no as she looked into his brown eyes with her glassy e/c ones. "Wrong. You just don't get it do you? You don't save a marriage by sleeping with other people. And I gave you more then enough chances to change because God I changed so much for you!! I gave up saving people, gave up painting in the tower, stopped helping Pepper with business, stopped going to briefings, and so much more. All for you and you couldn't do one thing for me." With quivering hands she gently brushed the tears from his cheeks letting her hands go from his shoulders to his hands. "I loved you, Anthony. I always will have a special place in my heart for you, but clearly the same doesn't go for you." Y/n now held one of his hands bringing his knuckles to her lips giving them a chaste kiss.
She let go of his hand as she stepped back from him many of the passengers having already boarded the plane. "Don't say goodbye." He said voice small and weak. "...don't think of this as a goodbye. We just met at the wrong time in the wrong place. Maybe I'll come back to you and just maybe we can start again from the beginning, but until then this is a see you later." She turned and went on board as he stood their feet glued the the floor. Looking down at the hand she held the ring sat in his palm she left him with a piece of his heart while she took the rest with her. What is a marriage without love
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A/n this is the second to last one before the full masterlist is posted. Fyi I wrote a happy ending and if it's really wanted I'll make a short one-shot of it but angst ending for now.
Next quote is a free space and I'm going ham!!!!
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thescorpioracer · 3 years
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Sen Çal Kapımı 1 - Episode Recap
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To be honest, this series of posts is mostly going to be a fashion roast. But DISCLAIMER! I really do love this show and Turkish TV in general, it’s just my preferred mode of media analysis is to pick things apart. 😂And I need everyone to know that I am very pro-women, and believe people should be able to dress how they want and not be judged for it or be looked down upon for it. But oh my god this wardrobe department/costumer needs to be STOPPED. I also have zero credentials to be talking about fashion, but will that stop me?
I’m going to make these posts assuming you’ve watched the show, and just comment on whatever comes up. There will be spoilers. Let’s go!
We start off with a voiceover from Eda Yıldız, an A+ romcom trope. (It wasn’t until my rewatch that I remembered that Eda used to do VOs at random intervals, and I’m kind of glad she stopped tbh.) She is a strong woman who wants to get her education and become a landscape architect/designer. She was all set to do that until- dun dun dun! - Serkan Bolat destroyed everything. 
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Check out that dart board of a man (and this is the only time we see that photo there). And these outfits are probably the most normal and reasonable clothes she wears in the show. She’s a beautiful young woman, who was a college student, and now works outdoors as a florist. 10/10 outfit. 
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Of course that transitions us into an epic slomo of Serkan exiting his private jet. He of course begins to berate his assistant on the phone in a way a friend described as reminiscent of The Devil Wears Prada.
@teamnick​​‘s commentary back when she first started the show. 
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Serkan returns to his office for the first time in 2 months after working on business deals in London. Chaos ensues: Miranda Priestly is baaaaaaack.
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See... here we have some good fashion choices! We meet the girls for the first time, while they try to sneak off to their graduation without making Eda feel bad that she won’t be receiving her diploma. Melek “Melo” is dressed in a sweet dress with a bold, romantic color, which captures her personality perfectly. Ceren, the rich daughter from a family of lawyers, looks a bit more high-fashion. The dress is short but it has long sleeves and no cleavage so it works out to be chic and elegant. Fifi is unapologetically herself with her full-black, punk wardrobe. Eda is again dressed in a pretty, but casual outfit. Nicely put together for her lower-middle-class lifestyle and her job as a florist.
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Enter: the plot device to get our protagonists together. Serkan’s face says it all.
We are then introduced to the main couple’s respective cars. Serkan has his 2020 BMW (though the show blocks out the copyrighted branding) while Eda’s beat up SUV is clearly unreliable. What’s that? Another plot device being introduced? I have no idea what you’re talking about.
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Also, I just noticed this, but for someone as uptight as Serkan, I’m surprised at how fun his suit jacket lining is. If I’m not mistaken the pattern is of a bunch of rainbow fish. #Snazzy, but they seem out of character?
Plot highlights:
Eda learns she can come back to school and finish her final year, but she’s lost her scholarship and will have to pay. She can’t.
Serkan gives his talk at the graduation (?)-- Is his talk just for architecture students? If so, why are Ceren, Fifi, and Melo there? We’ll never know. I know, I know... it’s all for the ~plot~
Eda calls Serkan out in front of everyone for taking away the scholarship that she earned from his company, Art Life. He is confused but unrepentant. She refuses to tell him her name.
She tries to deface his car with lipstick after keying the side (we never hear about the damage to his car after that). He catches her and wants to call the police, so she impulsively handcuffs them together with the plot devices from Selin’s wedding invitation sitting on his passenger seat.
They then have to go to Serkan’s urgent business meeting with an out-of-town client. Eda drives while they’re handcuffed together. Bickering ensues.
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What is this? Foreshadowing? Symbolism?? Eda’s last name “Yıldız” is the Turkish word for “star” so... file that away for later.
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One of my favorite parts about watching Turkish dramas is the experience of trying to decipher the fan translations. Add to the fact that Turkish only has 1 pronoun *chef’s kiss* 
Eda refuses to take the elevator to the 15th floor (we’ll learn about her claustrophobia later). Serkan is equally as stubborn, saying she owes  him for screwing up his day. But he has met his match in Eda with regards to stubbornness. They take the stairs.
More highlights:
First instance of fake dating - they need to hide the handcuffs from his client so Eda pretends she’s his girlfriend and a fellow investor.
The girls track Eda’s phone to the hotel and try to find her by asking around the premises. 
Eda charms the client into selling his land to Serkan.
We learn that Serkan is allergic to strawberries and has a lot of health anxiety. He’s a very tightly wound person.
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Serkan says “Mashallah,” translator hears 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️
Engin brings way too many people to open the handcuffs and chaos ensues.
I feel like nothing can do justice to the comedy of 58:45 to 1:00:00 with Fifi using a bobby pin as a lock pick. The dramatic editing is 👌🏼
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Leyla gets fired for somehow causing this drama??? And she is so happy to leave that stressful workplace omg, we don’t deserve her 🥺
Serkan and Eda go their separate ways, Eda prepared to never see her enemy again, but of course her phone and purse are still in his car so she has to go to his office at Art Life and confront him again.
Serkan has found out that Whoops, Art Life did cancel the study abroad scholarships to cut costs, but his CFO did it without telling him. And Serkan is pissed, but I think mainly about the fact that Eda did have some (SOME) grounds for yelling at him in public.
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Leyla then explains the nonsensical reasoning behind her being fired-but-not-fired and still working. (Spoiler alert: she never goes anywhere and she is my favorite side character to this day).
Eda: “How can I piss Serkan off?” Leyla: “Find a mistake he’s made and he will fixate on it forever. But you won’t find anything.” Eda: “Hold my beer.”
Eda walks into Serkan’s office and his meeting. She gets her purse back and they fight about him not being willing to apologize for ruining her life and education. He refuses and says she owes him an apology for embarrassing him in public (no, dude).
He wants to give her back the scholarship and make it all go away but she rightly tells him that it won’t fix her broken pride from begging the company and her university for a second chance. But somehow her calling him a heartless “Robot” is what gets to him???? And he short-circuits. Eda walks out triumphant. 
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~dRaMa!~
MEANWHILE
Melo, as well as being a perfume sales girl, also works as a flight attendant and wants Eda to cover her shift (we’ll get into how that doesn’t make sense in a minute) 
Eda says no, she’s going to meet her boyfriend, Cenk, who she hasn’t seen in months and has just returned from Italy.
Enter: Selin. Serkan’s ex who he dumped a while ago and is now engaged to the heir of a hotel empire. Serkan doesn’t like this. The two of them grew up together and are set to each inherit 50% of the holding company that Serkan’s father currently runs.
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Right away Selin serves us with a gender reveal level color scheme.  Personally not a fan. They confirm that Serkan is coming to her engagement party tomorrow.
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Meanwhile Eda  meets up with Cenk. Her outfit is still reasonable and cute for her character. He looks mildly like a hobo and doesn’t seem to have anything going for him (I know he’s a throwaway character but the two of them really don’t have anything in common).
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This creeper keeps staring at them, but Cenk tries to explain it away and says he’s busy and can’t meet her again until the day after tomorrow. Eda is disappointed but accepts this. Creeper girl remains and remains a red flag to viewers, but apparently not to Eda.
Cut to later that evening, and of course our broody main man enjoys astronomy in his free time (???) idk what he’s charting and to what purpose but okay? 
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Eda finds a mini first aid kit in her purse that Serkan put there before returning it. Queue montage of them treating their respective wrists for handcuff-related injuries. #couplegoals
Of course we also needed a sepia-toned flashback to earlier that day when the handcuffs contrived their faces to get too close together. #romance
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Finallyyyyyyy it’s morning again and a new day.
Since Eda can’t see Cenk (good, he’s so boring), she agrees to fill in as a flight attendant for Melo, who’s side job is for a private plane company.
Now. This should not be a thing. Eda was in college to be a landscape architect and now works as a florist for her aunt... Where has she learned any relevant skills to work as a flight attendant?? Presumably nowhere. And I really don’t think a private plane company would be so easygoing about just having a random person fill in to cover for her friend? 
But does this show care about that? What do you think...
Also, instead of the standard white shirt, black skirt uniform requirements, the girls decide that this skimpy dress and heels is fine? Hmmm
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Also lol @ Melo for assuming that the client who wants jasmine tea and fruit salad is probably a woman. And her telling Eda that the PRIVATE JET COMPANY would in fact have its own tea was very random and unnecessary. 
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Back at the Bolat house compound, we meet the parents: Aydan and Alptekin. We’ll see them again later. Selin’s engagement party is today. 
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Meanwhile Eda is just.... being a flight attendant, I guess??? And who could possibly be the passenger she has to take care of? Take a wild guess. Of course it’s Serkan Bolat.
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And of course that tiny dress (THAT ALSO HAS A LEG SLIT?? WHY?? I really don’t need to see her vagina) looks very practical and professional... not! (Hande Erçel is a gorgeous human, and the dress looks good on her, don’t get me wrong. BUT THIS IS SITUATIONALLY INCORRECT ATTIRE). Also him just folding his vest and then social distancing from it... K? 😂
Eda panics and doesn’t want Serkan to see her and runs away back to her seat pod thing - Serkan takes issue with his fruit salad for ~plot reasons~ (EDIT: I’ve been informed that it’s because there was a strawberry in his fruit salad and since he’s allergic, of course it needed to be fixed. Why doesn’t the plane have a note of that??) and comes back to find this mystery flight attendant.
Eda is very stressed out about this encounter and is also starting to have a panic attack because, surprise, she’s also claustrophobic. 
After Serkan calms her down, they have a cute/civil conversation for the rest of the flight.
When they land, Eda realizes they’re on an island 2h45min away from Istanbul and she isn’t sure what to do with herself (How did she not already know where they were going, as the FLIGHT ATTENDANT??? So may red flags with this private jet company).
Serkan convinces Eda to come with him and she can hang out at the beach while he’s at Selin’s engagement party.
At the engagement party we finally meet Selin’s fiancé Ferit. He’s sweet and non-threatening and clearly insecure about Serkan being Selin’s ex.
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This dress/skirt outfit Selin is wearing isn’t terrible, but it doesn’t scream rich socialite to me. Anything with feathers seems... a bit tacky/too showy? Like someone pretending to be rich? Idk, this outfit isn’t one I’m going to really take a stand on.
Does this engagement party warrant being a 2h45 min flight away? No. They try to explain it away as the couple wanting to have something small and private, even though they also invite the press?? But okay whatever, as long as Serkan and Eda cross paths again, I suppose.
Kaan Karadağ has been mentioned a couple times in passing, but now we finally meet our “villain.” Ferit’s friend, and Serkan & Selin’s childhood acquaintance, who has it out for Serkan bc he somehow bankrupted Kaan’s dad? Idk and I don’t really care but tl;dr they’re enemies. 
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Another thing I love about Turkish dramas is the censoring. Like, they’ll allow alcohol to be on screen, but they won’t say the word and they’ll just blur out the bottle and any liquid that we’d assume is alcoholic 😂
In the evening, Serkan is tired and wants to leave and Ferit snidely jokes about how Serkan is too picky to have a fiancé of his own. Serkan flashes back to 1 entire day ago when he and Eda pretended to be dating at his business meeting, and says that actually he is engaged to someone and then peaces out.
Serkan finds Eda on the beach, and they are preparing to leave when a crowd of people (Selin, Ferit, and Kaan mainly), arrive to get a peek at Serkan’s new “fiancé.” Eda very reluctantly plays along (good thing she has that unnecessarily sexy “work” dress to help her look the part) and Serkan notices that for the first time ever, Selin is jealous of another woman. #drama
After they finally escape the crowd, Serkan makes an annoyed Eda an offer: Pretend to be his fiancé for the 2 months leading up to Selin’s wedding so he can get them to break up and prevent Ferit marrying into the company. In return, he will pay all the fees to help her complete her last year of studies in Italy.
Eda refuses, stating that she doesn’t want anything from him, and besides she has a boyfriend (Sure Jan; Cenk is such a joke). They have it out and then fly back to Istanbul. But of course the gossips at the engagement have spread the news of Serkan’s new woman so the paparazzi corner them at the airport when they land. 
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So glad that we got to see this random mechanic find out the news (???)
They escape the cameras and Serkan takes her home, saying that Art Life has a press conference tomorrow, and she should come so he can save face and tell everyone that she was his assistant accompanying him for work to the party. Eda agrees. 
It should also be mentioned that Serkan still doesn’t know her name at this point?? She refused to tell him and Engin still hasn’t sent him the names of the scholarship candidates so it’s a bit miraculous that their relationship was at all believable.
The next day, Cenk wants to meet but Eda has to go to the press conference. The girls come too for whatever reason, and Melo is convinced that Cenk wants to propose. Eda just lets that fantasy take hold (why tho?), and Cenk shows up unexpectedly right before the press conference and takes Eda into the nearby hotel’s cafe so they can talk.
Eda seems ready for a proposal (they haven’t seen each other or really communicated in months??) but Cenk wants to break up. Eda is shocked (???) but then Cenk mentions that he has a new girlfriend from Italy that he adores, and oh by the way, it’s the creepy girl from the other night who also happens to be here right now?
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Okay fine, I guess??? Cenk: “She’s doesn’t speak Turkish” Girlfriend: *clearly a Turkish actress*
Eda is upset that he brought his jealous girlfriend with him to break up with her and says something about how actually, she’s seeing Serkan Bolat now (maybe it’s just me being someone who doesn’t follow tabloids, but are business people really that popular in every day society where everyone knows who they are?). Cenk laughs at Eda, saying that everyone wants to be with Serkan Bolat, and that she’s bluffing.
Eda makes an impulsive decision, and walks away, over to where Serkan has started the press conference. And seals their fate as fake dating in the public eye.
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Queue confetti. No really.
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And there we have it. That’s the episode!
In all seriousness, it’s a pretty great pilot, especially for a romcom. It hits all the right beats, includes enough tropes, and tells us a lot about what we should expect in the episodes going forward. And no matter how much I make fun of it, I really do enjoy this show! It’s been such a nice distraction from Current Events. I’ve spent a lot of time watching these episodes just saying “oh my god” out loud to myself as I watch all of the cute/romantic gestures that give me a lot of second hand embarrassment (I forget that PDA makes me kinda uncomfortable 😂).
There wasn’t actually that much terrible fashion in this episode, which I didn’t notice until my rewatch. If I continue with this series of posts, I’m hoping they’ll end up being less plot-centric, and more about the situationally inappropriate outfits and strange subtitling choices. 
See you next time? 
38 notes · View notes
doomonfilm · 3 years
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Ranking : Martin Scorsese (1942-present)
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Of all the places in the world that seem to be hubs for creative energy, New York stands high on my personal list of favorites, and when it comes to iconic New York filmmakers, there aren’t many that can hold a candle to the prolific career of Martin Scorsese.  His appreciation for films, art and music blasts off the screen with the same energy as his kinetic cinematography and vibrant editing.  Once he established himself as a mainstay in the industry, his list of collaborators evolved into a who’s who of acting legends, both old and new.  His career spans just over 50 years, and even his latest film (his 25th in his catalog) went head to head with other contenders for the top awards of the year.
To put it bluntly, there is Martin Scorsese, and then there is a long list of imitators and those influenced by his genius.  To rank his films is a true test of logic, patience and decision making, but after a few weeks of catching the 7 or so films I had yet to see, I think I can stand behind this list as my definitive ranking (from least to most favorite) of a director I hold in the highest regard. 
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25. Gangs of New York (2002) An honest attempt at an epic flick, but at the heart of the matter, I simply don’t care about either side in the battle Scorsese presents us.  Set in New York City in the mid 19th Century during the Civil War, we are thrown into a generational battle where the two key figures have different goals... Bill the Butcher stands as antagonist in his fight to maintain power and control, while Amsterdam is our protagonist charged with a mission of revenge.  In the end, neither side ends up mattering, very much like my personal experience with this all flourish, no foundation exercise in style.
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24. Bringing Out the Dead (1999) Nicolas Cage was gearing up for the run that most people know him for now during the release of Bringing Out the Dead : he was coming off of Golden Globe and Academy Award wins for Leaving Las Vegas, but was quickly leaning towards films of a more exploitation-based style.  This film marked a refinement of his wild-man persona, while simultaneously being one of the last high-level actor/director combinations he would be involved in before his mad dash to accept every film and avoid bankruptcy.  New York is captured in a mid-transition point between the darkness of the 1970s and 1980s versus the Disney aesthetic of the new millennium, and while heavy on the entertainment factor (as well as visually striking), there is ultimately not enough on this plate to push it higher up the list.
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23. The Color of Money (1986) If you had to do a quick gander at the Scorsese list and pick the film that, on paper, screams Hollywood, it’d be hard to argue against The Color of Money taking that top spot.  A soft sequel to The Hustler, Scorsese picks up the Fast Eddie story in the 1980s (an era that oozes out of each and every frame of this film), and yet, despite this legendary move, the film is ultimately the Tom Cruise show.  Scorsese’s trademark dollying and trucking camera shots work beautifully in the context of this film, but in a story that shines bright, the star of Cruise ultimately outshines all that remains.
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22. Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore (1974) After a few exploitation-based projects, it seemed that Martin Scorsese wanted to provide a slightly different change in perspective, albeit one that still dwells in the darker corners of life.  Rather than deal with the streets of New York or crime, Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore is a study on broken homes, single parenthood and domestic violence that oscillates between the view of the titular Alice and her young son.  Harvey Keitel gives another strong performance as a Scorsese regular, while Ellen Burstyn shines in a transitional role towards more mature performances.  Seeing Scorsese camera movements coopted into a more down to Earth story was refreshing.
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21. The Departed (2006) Many people would have assumed that The Departed would be higher on a list of Scorsese films based solely on the cast... pairing Leonardo DiCaprio opposite Matt Damon in a tension-filled triangle with Jack Nicholson is a bold combination in its own right, but surrounding this nucleus with Martin Sheen, Mark Wahlberg, Alec Baldwin, Kevin Corrigan, Anthony Anderson and supporting actors of that ilk creates a rich showcase of talent.  Stylistically, everything you need is there too, as Scorsese proved time and again that films of this nature were his wheelhouse.  That being said, the story itself, an adaptation of the 2002 Hong Kong thriller Infernal Affairs, takes a few liberties in its adaptation that ultimately are to the detriment of the narrative.  Kudos to Scorsese for putting this one together, and too bad for him that the choices of William Monahan knocked what could have been a mega-classic way down the list.
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20. New York, New York (1977) New York, New York is one of the most unique offerings from the Scorsese canon for a number of reasons.  Of all his films, this one is probably the one that can be considered a “style exercise” more than the rest, as it oscillates between obvious sets and real locations before blurring the lines between the two.  Long gaps of time are given to fully executed musical numbers (a must when a talent like Liza Minnelli is involved), and traditional methods of songwriting and performance are given their due respect.  The exercise portion, however, comes in the newer acting styles that are infused into the old school structure... improvisation and aggressive physicality are used to put a deeper, disturbing red tint on an era often presented through a rose-colored lens.  While interesting at times, the nearly three hour run time of the film begins to wear on the limits of the style, which ultimate leaves the film feeling more like a personal indulgence than a statement on changing times.  For the iconic title track alone (and the buildup to its release), this film is worth seeing, but in terms of its placement in the realm of other Scorsese films, it may have to grow on me a while to find a higher placement on the list.
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19. Boxcar Bertha (1972) Originally, this film was much lower on the list, largely due to its chronological placement between Who’s That Knocking at My Door and Mean Streets seeming odd to me.  Upon revisitation, however, it stands clear and present that this film served as an exercise in the process of directing and organizing a shoot.  With its period-specific placement, ensemble cast and action sequences, it was bound to be compared to (and ultimately overshadowed by) the formidable Bonnie and Clyde, but Boxcar Bertha has a few key moments in it (including a stellar final action sequence) that places it near the middle of the Scorsese canon, even with it being his second film.
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18. Who's That Knocking at My Door? (1967) For all of the refinement that Scorsese found in his second film, his debut film, the stunning Who’s That Knocking at My Door?, stands as testament to the fact that Scorsese brought his many gifts to the table from day one.  What started as a student graduate film grew into a speculative project, only to find 25th hour funding that allowed it a festival run and a proper release.  The film took many years to complete and release, to the point that keen viewers will notice Harvey Keitel’s boyish, soft good looks morph into the sharper, edgier intense profile we came to recognize in Mean Streets and the films that followed.  The energetic cinematography, respect of film as a medium, stellar music choices, defiance of youth, toxic masculinity and realistic look at relationships are all here, making this debut a hidden gem in the Scorsese canon.
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17. The Wolf of Wall Street (2013) Seeing Scorsese retread old stylistic ground (as opposed to infusing his style into newer projects) is an interesting take, and for what my opinion is worth, The Wolf of Wall Street feels like Goodfellas for white collar criminals.  In theory (and, in some aspects of the film, in reality), the experiment does work, but ultimately, this film finds its placement in the middle realms simply because we are given infinite sizzle off of what amounts to a very thin steak.  Goodfellas works because it is carried by the weight of omerta, but The Wolf of Wall Street focuses on a culture where status comes from self-appointed importance, which ultimately makes for an attempted redemption story for despicable people.  
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16. The Irishman (2019) Seeing actors the stature of Robert De Niro, Joe Pesci and Al Pacino combine forces for a film is always a major event, but until 2019, those combinations have been limited to duos.  When Netflix announced its intention to release The Irishman in 2019, people were not only intrigued on Scorsese’s take on the Jimmy Hoffa story, but seeing De Niro, Pesci and Pacino in the same film for the first time.  For what it was worth, the trio lived up to all expectations, with the only bittersweet criticism being wishes that the three could have found a way to work together prior to the twilight of their careers.  The historical drama is high quality, with Hoffa’s larger than life persona captured perfectly by Pacino, and bolstered by the dramatic chops brought to the table by De Niro and Pesci.  The film is a tad on the long side, and the de-aging process tips into the realm of the uncanny valley due to the older actors’ physicality, but for a 25th film 52 years into an illustrious career, The Irishman must be recognized for the triumph that it is.
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15. The Aviator (2004) Much like The Wolf of Wall Street, I avoided The Aviator for years simply because I have no interest or fascination with Howard Hughes.  I was very much aware of his financial stature, his innovations as an aviator, his rocky love life and his personal demons that plagued him, but for my money’s worth, I was fine without seeing it presented on the big screen.  In an effort to cover all the bases for a director I hold in high esteem, however, I made the decision to finally check out The Aviator, and for every element of the film I previously had no interest in, an element was presented that won me over.  Cate Blanchett and Adam Dunn put on two of the strongest performances in the entire realm of Scorsese films, and the XF-11 crash sequence is possibly one of the grandest and well executed in any Scorsese film.  Leave it to Martin Scorsese to make a powerful film about an individual I care nothing about and nearly crack the top ten with that effort.
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14. Hugo (2011)  Up to the point of watching Hugo, I knew nothing about it.  About halfway through Hugo, I had to stop and look up how the film was received, as it was simply stunning, and sure enough, it was a monster in terms of award nominations and wins.  I never would have pegged Scorsese as the type to direct a kid’s film, but in all honesty, that ‘kid’s film’ title is used as a façade for a love letter to film in general, and the groundbreaking work of Georges Méliès specifically.  The look of the film is otherworldly, the energy is light, kinetic and infectious, and even a mostly slapstick performance by Sacha Baron Cohen yields surprising emotional depth when given the opportunity to do so.  While just missing the top ten, Hugo easily stands as the number one surprise on this list in terms of pre-viewing expectations (of which there where none) versus post-viewing thoughts (of which there are many).  Knowing that Hugo exists lets me know that one day, if I have children, and they want to know why I love film so much, I will have a film on the level of Cinema Paradiso to share with them and (hopefully) help foster a love of film they can call their own.
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13. Casino (1995) For a time, this film stood as the last work containing the vibrant combination of Martin Scorsese, Robert De Niro and Joe Pesci, a trio of high energy creatives known for putting their all into their projects.  Casino felt like a spiritual successor to Goodfellas, focusing on a lavish but secretive lifestyle with high stakes and even higher consequences.  An instantly iconic movie,  Casino felt like the end of an era in regards to gangster fare for Scorsese, opting instead for more challenging projects, adaptations of other books and films, or personal passion projects.  It would be nearly 25 years later before Scorsese would touch similar subject matter or work with these actors again, but had Casino been the last of Scorsese’s so-called “gangster” films, I believe the world would have been happy with that.
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12. Kundun (1997) To make one religious-based film in a career is a bold move to some, but I am hard-pressed to think of any director that made films on two different religions who didn’t explicitly make religious films.  With that in mind, it is incredibly impressive that Martin Scorsese was able to make a film as moving and objective as Kundun after making such a bold take on religion as The Last Temptation of Christ.  The film centers around the discovery, growth and eventual escape to India in light of growing aggression from China.  In all honesty, I had my doubts as to whether or not the Scorsese style would work for this story, especially in light of the lack of cooperation from Tibet and China, but somehow, Scorsese’s amazing signature camerawork captures the unique spirit and essence surrounding the Dalai Lama.  I’d heard of this film for years, but never got around to it until it was time to make this list, but I will almost certainly try to find a copy to own in the near future. 
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11. The King of Comedy (1982) What an odd left turn in regards of career trajectory for both Scorsese and De Niro.  With three collaborations already under their belt (not to mention The Godfather II already being a well-established classic), it would have been easy to imagine the duo putting another notch on the gangster film genre belt.  What we are given, however, is the yang to the yin of Taxi Driver : our protagonist is a statement on personal conviction and the trappings of instant stardom, our antagonist is a statement on star fascination and the high costs of celebrity, and our satellite characters directly reflect the toxicity certain fandoms can be capable of.  Scorsese sets aside his normal flourish and camera moves for a mixing of film and video mediums, as well as a completely new sense of freedom in regards to the highly improvised nature of the film.  Its influence on recent successful films like Joker is undeniable, but I’d argue that Joker lacks the heart, sincerity and realistic bite present in The King of Comedy.
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10. After Hours (1985) Of all the “new to me” Scorsese flicks I finally viewed while preparing this list, After Hours stands as my favorite discovery of the bunch.  I was marginally familiar with the film, both from my younger days in video stores and from friend recommendations, but for some reason, when Scorsese time arrived, After Hours seemed to never be on the docket.  That oversight, however, will now be a thing of the past.  This film feels like a personal challenge to Woody Allen in regards to how one should make a New York-based romantic comedy, and I’d be hard pressed to share any shortcomings or failures present in this comedic masterpiece.  One of the few films that can be both a product of its era and a timeless classic, and one that should be much more recognized in the Scorsese canon.
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9. Shutter Island (2010) Me hesitating or not getting around to Scorsese films seems to be a bit of a common theme here, but there was literally no excuse for me to take this long to get around to Shutter Island.  Despite knowing the premise of the story (and even having the ending somewhat spoiled for me), I still found the impact of the final moments just as powerful as I imagine I would have going into this film blind.  Some people will likely argue this statement, but in my opinion, this was the best Leonardo DiCaprio performance captured by Martin Scorsese.  The asylum setting is wonderfully bleak, and the psychological horrors it infers create a vibrant playground for some of the most stunning visual symbolism that Scorsese has ever committed to film.  Don’t be like me if you’ve not gotten around to Shutter Island yet, because it’s a thrill ride more than worth the price of admission, and a rewarding repeat viewer. 
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8. Mean Streets (1973) Mean Streets may have been Martin Scorsese’s third film, but for many fans, it was the first true indicator of the brilliance that was to come.  A true New York film through and through, it not only presented fans with a stronger Harvey Keitel performance than Who’s That Knocking at My Door?, but it introduced the world to the palatable tandem of Scorsese and De Niro that would go on to lead to years and years of iconic performances.  The use of altering aspect ratios is something that I wish Scorsese would have continued to use more often, but in all honesty, Mean Streets has style to spare.  This the film that I love to recommend when people start ranting and raving about Goodfellas, and more often than not, it impresses those unfamiliar with it just as much.
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7. The Age of Innocence (1993) Martin Scorsese’s love of film is widely known and well documented, but The Age of Innocence goes an additional step further by displaying Scorsese’s love of art.  The film also is one of the most touching displays of unrequited love that Scorsese has committed to film, a slight alteration from his normal infusion of love stories trying to sustain in the surrounding chaos of gangs, crime, religion and so on.  Daniel Day-Lewis, Michelle Pfeiffer and Winona Ryder all give standout performances in this masterfully directed film.  If Gangs of New York was meant to be the definitive old school New York film in the Scorsese canon, then The Age of Innocence is the unintended definitive New York film from Scorsese, with some European touches thrown in for good measure.
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6. Cape Fear (1991) Of the many, many iconic performances that Robert De Niro has given Martin Scorsese, I’d be hard pressed not to put his characterization of Max Cady at the top by a clear margin.  Cape Fear was already a classic film adaptation of The Executioners when it was first released in 1957, but De Niro pulled two fast ones with his update : in terms of casting, especially with the aforementioned De Niro, Scorsese brought the harrowing story into a much darker, recent world, therefore increasing the tension by upping the ante for violent retribution, while at the same time, paying direct homage to the original by having Elmer Bernstein adapt the original Bernard Herrmann score.  Juliette Lewis also provided a breakout performance in this modern day classic, and possibly the film that provided the most tense debate in terms of placement, as we will get into with the next film.
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5. Silence (2016) Despite being one of the most recent Martin Scorsese films, this one’s limited release meant that I missed it during its initial run, and the lack of streaming service placement essentially erased it from my memory.  I was certainly intrigued about watching it for this list, and it ended up being the last film viewed.  Going into it, it felt like a sort of religious take on Saving Private Ryan, but it didn’t take long for the film to start dealing out much heavier cards in terms of faith, belief systems and cross-cultural contamination.  The Last Temptation of Christ showed that Scorsese could find nuance and secular drama from a holy tale, and Kundun showed that he could make a religious icon a relatable human figure struggling to grasp his divine appointment.  Silence is the work of a wise, steady hand, however, like some sort of cinematic parable or testament to faith in the face of crippling doubt and danger.  Scorsese is certainly still moved by the idea of faith, and he uses Andrew Garfield to display this in some of the most powerful moments that he has ever created or captured for his films.  For those who have not seem the film, this placement may feel a bit high, but I would not be surprised if, given time and proper amounts of reflection, it makes its way higher.
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4. Raging Bull (1980) The placement of Raging Bull and Cape Fear was the biggest hurdle I was forced to overcome in the creation of this list.  Robert De Niro is powerfully captivating in both films, though I would personally give his performance as Max Cady the nod over his embodiment of Jake LaMotta, but when it comes down to the brass tacks of it all, Raging Bull is ultimately the better of the two films.  The raw, black and white look of LaMotta’s life already provides a gritty, unflattering portrait of a savage and uncouth man looking for beauty in the world, but that beauty he searches for appears in the boxing sequences with no apologies.  The airy look, mainly caught by dynamic slow motion photography, works in tandem with the abrasive first-person views of the combatants, not to mention the direct nature of the combat itself as the viewer is often placed directly in the line of fire.  The involvement of the real LaMotta within the film provides a nice button to the superb acting put on display by De Niro, Joe Pesci, Cathy Moriarty and the numerous actors used to portray the opponents of LaMotta.  
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3. The Last Temptation of Christ (1988) Call it a trope if you like, but it feels like every great (or aspiring) director has a film in them that is driven by religion in some capacity.  The Last Temptation of Christ is unique in this sense because it takes the story of the accusations, betrayal, trial and eventual crucifixion of Jesus and turns it into a deeply faith-based suspense thriller.  Many of the familiar beats we know from the Bible are re-contextualized as visions, mystic tests of faith, carnal desires driven by lust, and nihilistic views infringing upon deep indoctrination.  Willem Dafoe plays a Jesus that is bitter in his acceptance of his fate, Harvey Keitel plays a wonderfully opportunistic Judas, and Barbara Hershey plays a very modernized version of a woman forced to use her body for survival that is suddenly trapped between necessity and passion.  The film hinges on the verge of becoming a soap opera without falling into the trappings that come with such high drama, and the walkup to the film’s amazing final sequence puts you in the emotional passenger's seat while Jesus takes the wheel and steers directly into his fate.  A dramatically powerful yet brutally sincere take on an iconic, revered and sensitive subject matter.
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2. Goodfellas (1990) Is there any original praise left to bestow upon this movie?  To focus on the imperfections of this film is an act of futility, as they are mostly non-existent.  Some of Martin Scorsese’s best examples of his iconic camera movement, editing techniques, still frames, writing gleaned from personal experience, soundtrack use, loose historical connections and dark humor are found within the confines of Goodfellas.  If you’ve seen in actor in any television show or film that had any connection to the mob prior to Goodfellas or since, it is more than likely that that actor was in Goodfellas, even if only briefly.  Using Henry Hill as both an outsider and insider perspective is a brilliant narrative stroke, as he can get close to the top, but can never have it all, making him essentially a fly on the wall bursting with charisma and personality.  They highs are as epic as the lows are tragic, and for most people, it is the first film that comes to mind when the name Martin Scorsese is mentioned.  This could have very easily been the number one film on my list, but anyone who has been visiting this blog with a keen eye for detail probably figured out my favorite Scorsese film the first time they visited the DOOMonFILM blog.  
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1. Taxi Driver (1976) Since the day that I started this film blog, there has been one image at the top of the page : Travis Bickle in the porn theater (with his face replaced by my logo) from the iconic Taxi Driver.  There’s not a single element that I can put my finger on for this film, but there are certainly a number of elements that do speak to me : the isolation that Travis faces, the journal-like narration that drives the story forward, the hypnotic nature of both Bernard Herrmann score and the repetitive taxi cab shots and the vivid camera movements are all burnt firmly into my brain.  Everyone that makes up the main cast for this film kills in their performance, and the ending of the film is not only a brutal one, but an ironic one in regards to where Travis lands in the eyes of those who make up the world of the film.  Martin Scorsese has made more amazing films than some directors have made, period (amazing or otherwise), but for my money’s worth, none of them are as powerful or well put together as Taxi Driver. 
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The Masked Ghost - Jackson Wang AU
HELLO FOLKS, HERE COMES YOUR ADORABLE AUTHOR AFTER HARSH WINTERS OF WAITING!!! Ahem, well, I took my time, but this is one of the stories I really am proud of. It originally started as inspiration from the ‘100 ways’ MV and song but you know me; I love myself a good read. I hope you all enjoy it as much I enjoyed writing it~ I hope the details are historically accurate, I tried documenting myself first so it would make the experience more real.
Synopsis: The heavy burden of the crown will soon become Prince Jackson’s responsibility. He wants to be a good ruler to his people and correct the mistakes of his ancestors. He seeks the help of a famous rebel among his people to guide him through the process. The urban legend is, however, an old friend of the Prince.
15.6k words, Emperor AU, somewhat soulmate au too, Historical inspiration, crime, explicit violence, love
“My dear son, there will be a time when the feeling of love won’t be a fleeting breeze, but a fulfilling storm and it shall last as long as your heart keeps on beating.  “
“How will I know it, Mama?”
“Oh, Jackson, you will feel it battling so violently in your chest, it’s an unmistakable feeling. You will just know.”
 Prince Jackson opened his eyes abruptly, the light of dawn bathing the room through the beautifully embroidered drapes of his royal chamber. He let out a low groan of displeasure and stood up to adjust to the low lighting. A lazy hand was brought up to rub at his eyes. He woke up a little earlier than usual, he figured. His servants weren’t swarmed around him to make sure he was offered everything he needed from the moment he opened his eyes.
He crawled out of bed and tightened the bead of his robe as he walked to the side door of his chamber so he could breathe in the fresh air of the morning. The garden was stretching vastly outside his porch and he took a couple of barefooted steps outside, the grass tickling his feet. His days of being a crown prince were rapidly coming to an end, along with the freedom he previously enjoyed. His father was ready to retire and let him inherit all the heavy responsibilities of the throne. Jackson let out a sigh and looked up at the sky. The bold rays of the sun engulfed the garden and he sheltered his face with the back of his hand.
“Your majesty! What are you doing outside? You aren’t even dressed!”
Jackson closed his eyes momentarily, his moment of peace quickly falling to pieces. He turned his body to the source of the voice, greeting the old gardener with a warm smile. He was the only one actively serving Jackson at his age; he had always felt like a grandfather to him.
“Did the servants cause you displeasure?”
“Not at all,” Jackson replied with a chuckle. “I woke up a tad earlier and I figured I’d enjoy the calm—“
The frail door of his chamber was opened once again, the loud sound indicating the rush and panic of the servants who failed to find him in his bed.
“While it lasted, your majesty?” the old man laughed, patting Jackson’s arm lightly.
The young girls bowed their heads stiffly and waited as the lead servant and tailor approached Jackson with a look of disapproval on their features. “Your majesty, you should not walk so hastily around, especially without your shoes! What if you hurt yourself, your majesty?”
Jackson nodded imperceptibly and dipped his head towards the old man before walking ahead of his two most worried servants. “What could possibly happen to me? Step on a rock?”
He heard the young girls giggle at his remark and were immediately scolded by the senior servant. “You should take this more seriously, your majesty! You will be emperor soon! What will everyone make of you if you show yourself so carelessly?”
Jackson extended his arms to allow his tailor to dress him into his appropriate clothes. His room became crowded in an instant with people who were either making his bed or arranging his table with the necessary tools for the morning routine. He turned his back to the young girls during the time of his fitting, trying to ease some of their embarrassment.
“Your majesty, are you sure you do not want anyone to come and shave you?”
Jackson shook his head, bringing his hands to his waist to tie the golden sash over the black chest piece. His fingers lingered over the small embroidered details which formed an elegant pattern on top of the charcoal silk. He was among the few men at the palace who opted for trousers which often rose eyebrows for the lack of elegance. His outfit was completed by the gauntlets adorning his forearms. The tailor took a good look at his prince. “I have never seen anyone who suits black and gold more than your majesty does. Although your palette is rather poor in terms of colors.”
Jackson laughed and buttoned his collar. “Thank you for your sincerity. My father would have had you beheaded for this.”
The man bowed his head in terror, so Jackson placed a hand on his shoulder.  
“Maybe you should follow his example, your majesty!” The head servant folded her arms over her chest. She was one of the few seniors in the palace who disagreed with the friendlier approach Jackson had with all of the servants. He was known for being kind and humble, someone who tried treating everyone with respect, no matter their job or title. Everyone adored him for being such a sympathetic royal and there were many who competed for being assigned to him. Although those part of the older generation questioned his extended kindness. They did not see it fit for a future king. Especially since it attracted greedy females around him.
“How can I abuse my power? These people are my servants, not my slaves.” Jackson sat down at the table and took the blade in between his fingers to get rid of his facial hair.
“Prince, forgive my ignorant outburst.” She bowed to Jackson. “I wouldn’t want people to take advantage of your otherwise bright nature—“
“Are they, though?”
Jackson smirked at the voice of his best friend and closest advisor, Guiren, who leaned against the doorframe. The girls formed a line to bow to him and steal some glances.
“I wouldn’t recommend mistaking his majesty’s kindness for weakness.”
“Ah Guiren, weren’t we supposed to meet for breakfast?” Jackson wiped his face clean with a white piece of cloth, sewed with the same sophisticated design. “You came here to shadow my popularity among the servants?”
The girls blushed at Jackson’s words and were ushered outside by the lead servant. “We’ll leave you to master Guiren, your majesty. The breakfast is ready to be served in the main backyard, as you requested.”
“Then that would be all, thank you. I would like us to be alone at this time.”
The seniors bowed to Jackson before retreating out of his chamber. Guiren approached his best friend with a smug expression imprinted on his features. “As much as I want to, I cannot top you, Jackson. The queue of females desiring to climb in your bed is long enough to circle the empire twice. It beats me how you simply refuse to summon any to your chamber.”
Jackson waved his hand dismissively. “That is of no concern to me now. You showing up so eagerly means you took care of what I asked.”
“I have some interesting things to share with you, indeed. The soldiers are full of gossip.”
The two of them walked to where the breakfast was served, avoiding the topic on their way there. One of the first lessons Jackson’s father taught him was that walls have ears and people’s trust is as fray as a cherry blossom flower in late spring. And he knew himself how many people were executed because of betrayal or plotting against the empire over trivial interests such as riches.
Guiren was the right hand of the military general and was regarded highly in their ranks. He had been too young to participate in the last big war but was otherwise trusted with many little revolts scattered across the empire and had an immeasurable amount of talent in swordsmanship. And Jackson’s mentor in the art.
“Before I tell you about it though, why do you seek their help? What are you afraid is going to happen?”
Jackson took the chopsticks in between his fingers. “One of the many advantages of the royals is that they are rarely revealed to the wider public and that gave me the possibility to go among our people. I’ve heard some worrying words that a new war is boiling.”
Guiren followed his example. “That was before the public ceremony last month. You were introduced as our new king, though.”
Thanks to his endeavors among the people of the empire and his occasional help with the field works, Jackson was enthusiastically received as their new monarch. He knew how important it was for people to put their trust in their king and how necessary it was for them to believe the king can serve them accordingly. It was a steady path toward peace. However, he did not help people just for the sake of it. He really enjoyed putting a smile on their faces and easing their hardships in however manner he could. He was deeply saddened to see how much misery the upper class poured upon them. And the people loved him in return.
“So who keeps you informed?”
“The old gardener, remember him? His granddaughter runs a bathhouse.”
Guiren chuckled. “Well, figures you would put your looks to good use. That’s smart, though. A bathhouse is a commonplace for fresh information.”
Jackson agreed and put his bowl of rice down. “Your turn.”
“Well, what do you want me to begin with?”
“Isn’t it obvious? The beginning.”
Guiren scratched at his nape and clicked his tongue. “Okay. But make sure you chew the food before I tell you.”
“Ah come on, just say it.”
“The Masked Ghost is supposed to be a woman.”
Jackson choked on his food. Guiren quirked his eyebrow at him, handing him his cup of tea.
“Told you.”
“That’s impossible.” Jackson shook his head and took a sip from his tea. “Thirty officials killed over the past month, countless other thieves and criminals mysteriously dead and you tell me she’s a woman?”
“She’s certainly been building her reputation in the empire, but believe me when I say she is worshipped by common folk because she brings them the justice us royals fail to. My sources cannot be wrong about this.”
Jackson took his chin in between his thumb and index. “My father showed me some of the bodies. Those were clean cuts of the jugular.”
Guiren nodded. “I suppose his majesty only told you the bright part of the story. Some of the officials she killed were applying the tax law too harshly on farmers and often overworked them for an extra coin. But the others that she killed were known for their abusive behavior towards women and their violent outbursts that led to innocent girls being murdered in the process. One of your cousins was her target for a short while. It looked like he was innocent so he was spared.”
Jackson winced. He knew the King tried his best to reduce the abuse rate in the country because history taught him it comes with drastic consequences, but he could only do so little about his officials. There was no written law that women were not meant to be toys of the thirsty wolves.
“There’s more. They say the Masked Ghost entered a fight with 10 of our trained palace guards because she was caught beating a thief to literal death. Word has it she was so skilled with a sword that they couldn’t even scrape her. She’s been regarded as a highly wanted murderer ever since.”
Jackson tilted his head toward a group of birds playing around the pond in the yard.
“That being said,” Guiren continued after having finished his plate. “I won’t let you meet The Ghost.”
“No.”
“Jackson, are you insane? She’s shown no remorse toward any of her victims. Do you think she’ll spare you because you’re set to become King? She was so close to killing your cousin, a royal by blood.”
Jackson looked back at Guiren with a determined look in his eyes. “I need the ghost to teach me how to wield a sword and how to fight.”
“I do plenty of that.”
“You don’t. Because they don’t allow you to. What am I supposed to do if an actual war comes, Guiren? Sit pretty on my throne and watch you sacrifice yourselves for me?”
Guiren let out a scoff. “That is our duty, your majesty.”  
Jackson shook his head and looked away. “I cannot put my life in the hand of my subjects. Even if I trust you with my life Guiren, I refuse to be helpless. And honestly, now that I’ve heard the whole story, I kind of understand her reasons.”
Guiren blinked in surprise. “Killing high government officials because she doesn’t like the law?”
“The Ghost might take the law in her hands. But it is just, however wrong. She does what we cannot.”
Guiren acknowledged Jackson’s words, despite the fact that he hated how much truth resided in them. He was a dedicated follower of the written law even if he did not completely agree with it because it was the right thing to do. And Jackson knew, too. Rules are meant to keep a society in order and are meant to be obeyed, no matter the personal beliefs. That was what a monarch did. What Jackson soon had to do.
“Listen, Jackson.” Guiren sighed. “I know you will be a great ruler especially because you are not a tyrant. But don’t succumb to your own heart. It will bring much disorder. And you alone cannot turn around habits that all of us inherited for ages. It’s how your father and his predecessors kept this empire flourishing. By abiding to the customs and to the law.”
“I am aware of that.” Jackson said, defeated.
“But that doesn’t make you change your mind, now does it?”
The two of them laughed and Guiren gave his friend a tiny bit of paper. “I need a skilled person in the field. I need to keep track of everything so I can reduce the violence and the blood, no matter how little.”
  After his evening duties finished, a whole lesson taught by his father and his advisors about politics and economics, Jackson was sent back to his chamber for the night. He waited for the servants to exit his room and whistled in a distinctive tone to let an awaiting Guren know he would be thus unsupervised. He was given common clothes and a cape to mask his silhouette from the curios eyes and then swiftly sneaked out of the palace thanks to his friend’s authority and his secret routes.
The night was in full bloom, the darkness thick even with the torches lit around the capital to provide some light. There weren’t many people walking the streets and it made it even easier for him to move around. Jackson checked the writing on the bit of paper and was still perplexed by how vague it was. Guiren did not give him an exact location in the clue so he strolled around the back alleys, trying to find something for guidance. His feet stopped abruptly and dug into the dirt when the unexpected cold of a blade made contact with the skin of his neck.
“If it isn’t Prince Wang taking a night walk on my turf. Or should I say King Wang?”
Jackson felt a cold shiver traverse his spine. The voice belonged to a woman indeed, but the harshness of it told him there would be but a wrong word to his end.
“What are you doing here all alone?”
Jackson gulped and felt the tip of the blade tracing a vein in his neck. He knew you would have killed him long ago if you felt like it. “I wish to speak with you.”
He heard you chuckle and, in spite of the rather crucial situation he found himself in, thought it was a beautiful sound. “Oh? I knew I was famous in the palace, but I did not expect a royal coming down here with a speech prepared for me. Speak quickly before I change my mind.”
Jackson couldn’t afford to hesitate. He went there to convince The Ghost to be his partner. “I want you to teach me how to wield a sword.”
If he hadn’t had a blade dangling at his throat, he would have allowed himself to be entranced by your beautiful laugh. You stepped lightly from behind him, your blade now lowered to your hand and you started playing with it as you kept on laughing.
“You know, the lady who sells rice cakes mentioned you are an entertainer but I didn’t expect you to amuse me this much!”
Jackson took a good look at you as you placed yourself before him. Your face was covered entirely by the impressive porcelain mask so as not to leave any clue of your facial traits and the dragon pattern painted on it was majestically executed. You certainly were taller than he expected you to be, matching him evenly, and your body was covered in a thoroughly crafted crimson leather armor, with black and brown assortments. The only thing he could only catch a glimpse of in the endearing moonlight was your ebony hair, braided in a style he did not recognize. It must have been one of the foreign treats he had read in the papers brought to the palace by the naval officers.
“I did not intend to humor you. My reputation precedes me, yet now I am but serious.”
You turned your back to him. “Go home, Prince. This is not a place for you flimsy royals.”
“I beg of you. I want to be a King worthy of his people, capable of shielding them from danger. And as I am now, I am incompetent.”
You stopped in your tracks and tilted your head towards him. You were taken by surprise; never in your life have you heard of any royal who walked among the commoners, let alone beg one of the nation criminals to teach him how to better himself. You heard rumors about him and spied on his activities when he was out in the empire but it was never enough to convince you he was any different from his predecessors. He came out of the same cocoon after all.
“This empire has never had a King worthy of his people, your majesty.”  Jackson could hear how acid his title was in your mouth. “You royals are born with a silver spoon in your mouth and you think the world belongs to you. What do you know about what these people are going through to keep your filthy egos in place and your stomachs full? Just so they could live to see the morning sky another day. Pathetic.”
Jackson could not see your face but he could feel your anger boiling inside of you. You were more than justified to spit at him and mock him; he was well aware all you said was the truth. Almost everything.
“Don’t you fight for what you believe in to make a change?”
You knitted your eyebrows. Your silence was an indicator to continue. “I want to help these people make a change. I want to at least try. And there is no use in telling you the masters and politicians at our court do not teach us how to forge a change. But I am not stupid to overlook it.”
“Your father failed in doing so. What makes you different?”
“My father did not try to understand your people.”
You turned completely to him and took your first look at him. Women all over the country fawned over his good looks and in all honesty, you were a woman too. All of the royals were refined, still, and you did not allow yourself to be enraptured by it. The stern look in his eyes made you question his intentions. You fought for a leader who would lead his people for the people, not for himself. Even if the King was not a bad ruler, he failed to serve his people. You actually wondered if his son was any different.
You took your sword out from the scabbard and threw it at him. Much to your surprise, he caught it by the hilt. Jackson looked at the exquisite sword and wondered if it was slightly lighter than the ones at the palace.
“If you manage to touch me with that sword, I’ll consider.”
You sensed the hesitation. “I am a woman but I could kill you easily if I felt like, your majesty. I thought you treated me as an equal.”
Jackson nodded. You were right, he came to you for help because you were the skilled one. No matter how many crimes you had under your belt, he felt the strong sense of righteousness oozing from you. He was convinced it was not easy for you.
He dashed over to you in a leap, swinging his sword in mid-air. You deflected the sword with your knife, taking a step back to steady yourself. You certainly did not expect such a well-placed swing. Jackson seized the momentum to bring his other foot to the front and glide the sword through the air. You countered it with the back of your knife, his eyes making direct contact with yours.
“It would seem like they did teach you something, your majesty.”
Jackson took a cross-step to the back, the sound of metal scraping on metal echoing in the night air. “I shall take that as a compliment.”
You smirked at his words and anticipated his next move. Jackson twirled the sword in his hand as he walked toward you, taking a full swing from above. You lowered your body to the ground in a lunge and then quickly jolted up to disarm him. Jackson barely dodged to the side. You pushed forward and he leaned backward, using the support of his hands to do a backflip. He rested on the ground for a second.
“You are so intense, Ghost.”
“Too bad you are never going to see that for yourself, Prince.”
Jackson’s eyes widened in shock at your remark and that cost him his loss. He was left wide open and you threw your knife accurately, inches to the side of his head, to force him to lose balance then rushed forward, pushing him to the ground. Your knee was placed on the fuller as you straddled him, one of your hands grabbing jokingly at his throat. “It is my victory, your majesty.”
You leaned over him to grab your knife from the ground and then sprung up. Jackson was at a loss for words. It was not that he did not expect you to beat him, he certainly lost his chance because of your rather vulgar words, followed by your indecent position atop of him. He draped an arm over his eyes and laughed under his breath. “It is.”
You sheathed your sword and watched him as he stood back up. He parted his lips to say something but reconsidered it, bowing his head to you instead. “I lost fairly but is there something I could do to change your mind about this?”
You walked over to him, raising his chin up with the back of your knife before twirling it in your hand to offer it to him. Jackson was not a stranger to weapons and close combat and his agility and quick reflexes with a sword certainly served for a pleasant surprise. You decided to play along.
“I feel generous tonight.”
Jackson took the knife from your hand and stole another glance at your eyes before you turned to walk away. It was a scorching shade of amber.
 “So, how did it go last night?”
Guiren countered Jackson’s punch and went in for a high kick. Jackson put his arms together to absorb the impact.
“She is really skilled. She might have laughed at me at first though.”
Guiren chuckled. “What did you say? Teach me your ways?”
Jackson jumped back and wiped the sweat traversing his forehead. “Something like that. She threw me her sword and said that if I hit her once, she’d teach me.”
“Oh?” Guiren smirked and unbuttoned the collar of his uniform. “What then?”
“I lost, of course. But she gave me this knife as a gift so I figure I might see her again.”
Guiren examined the knife and let out a whistle. “This is a perfect hunting knife with a wide blade. I wonder where she gets these from.”
“Her sword was lighter than the ones we use here, too. I think she might have ties to the European weapon merchants.”
“So what you are telling me is that she put you to shame with a mere knife that she also offered you and deliberately agreed to teach you swordsmanship? Did you take her to bed?”
Jackson thought back to the part of the story he omitted to tell Guiren. Under no circumstance should he find out he might have fantasized a little. “Uhm, no, colonel, cease this nonsense at once. “
“I hate it when you bring out the aristocracy on me, your majesty.” Guiren laughed and resumed his fighting stance. “But in all seriousness, you should be careful. You might be playing right into her hand.”
Jackson nodded and put up his guard, bracing himself for another brawling with Guiren. He knew The Ghost was most likely entertaining herself and must have had other plans for him. Seeing you in action motivated him even more; he had to win your trust somehow and make you regain your faith in the crown. It was the best-case scenario for the both of you and for the empire. He could use your intel and your skills and, in exchange, you would benefit from a fair ruling. Even more so as Guiren hinted at military tensions between the empire and other states. He had to make a bold move before his coronation.
 “Lady Y/n, how do you read this word?” one of the little children seated by your side pointed at the book, his curious eyes eliciting a bright smile from your lips.
“This?” You wrapped your free arm around him, pulling him on your lap. The other children protested collectively and crawled all over you. “This is justice, little one.”
“Justice?” another girl perked up at you. “What does it mean?”
You took a deep breath and tried to mask the heavy feelings you were carrying in your chest. You couldn’t show those children what disappointment was before their lives had even started.
“Hmm, well, justice means treating people fairly around you. It also means I am equal to you and you are equal to me.”
“So like how Prince Jackson treats us?”
You opened your arms and the children rushed into your embrace. You wanted to trust the Prince more than anyone but it was never an easy task. Monarchs had failed your country countlessly and it was hard to believe it would all come to an abrupt end.
“Okay children, leave our Lady Y/n be. Time is up.”
You giggled at their whines and gave each a hug as they went their way. You stood up and straightened the material of your skirt, fitting the sash after. “You were mean, Uncle! You know no one reads to the children.”
“I cannot wait to see the day when your own little dwarfs will cling to your side.” Your uncle offered you some freshly baked sweets which you took gratefully. “Do you truly dislike every man in the country?”
You giggled. “There will be a long and impossible road to my marriage, Uncle. No one deserves to carry the heavy burdens of The Ghost.”
“Speaking of which,” he began as he started walking among the cheerful people in the streets “I started investigating the Small Treasurer. It shan’t be long before we uncover his treacheries. But I understand there is another reason you sent word to the guild?”
You nodded your head. “Prince Wang came looking for me last night. I was surprised to find him wandering so close to our secondary post.”
“So what did he want?”
“This is the unthinkable part, Uncle. He wanted me to mentor him in swordsmanship.”
Your uncle took his chin in between his fingers. “It must have been that young Colonel, Guren. His web weaves vast into the empire. We have had trouble in the past accessing bits of information because of his own informants.”
You brought your hands to your hair to tie it loosely at the base of your neck. It was an unusually sunny day for the season. “He is a cunning one but I understand he would rather die than betray his Prince.”
“That is correct. What will you do, then? You know the Guild has been supporting the Prince from the shadows. It seems he will be a mighty ruler.”
“Certainly he is talented.” You nodded your head and your attention was captivated by a group of young boys waving to your direction. You smiled at them and returned the gesture. Your popularity among the other folk was a suitable cover for the day and it also served for cheap gossip. “I have decided to keep in touch with him for the time being.”
“Good. Perhaps you might take advantage of his loose tongue. Have you thought about going to the banquet? We can secure an invitation for you and for all one knows, you could have fun.”
Your hand caressed a piece of yellow silk resting on the table of one of the street vendors. You asked politely for it and paid the merchant in coin. As much as you loved your perfectly fitting armor, you adored sewing your own dresses, or offering them to the girls who were unable to afford them.
“Uncle, you know my opinion about these unnecessary feasts. It is a complete waste of coin. But I shall go if I see fit.”
Many times did you wonder about the infamous feasts of the palace. You had never gone to one before but had often heard impressive tales of the spectacle and of the people attending from all over the world; it was a true cultural asset. Although you wished some of the coin spent would go to improve the life of the citizens, you couldn’t help but desire to go to one.
“I would not mind if a foreign Prince asked for my niece’s hand in marriage, too.”
You laughed and livened up at his words. “Who would do such a thing, Uncle?”
“You ought to not underestimate yourself!” He scolded you with a bright glint in his eyes. “You are beautiful and smart and young. Should they marry you, they will be blessed!”
“Ah, I do not know how to obey a man. They would not stand me.”
 The rest of the day was spent helping around the animal farm, alas without your full focus. Your mind kept darting back and forth to your previous encounter with the Prince. The serious look in his eyes when he spoke about dedicating his crown to the people deeply bothered you. After your parents had died at the hands of cowardly officials who only knew the art of squeezing coin out of people’s pockets, you had spent your adolescence years training and absorbing knowledge so you’d be able to fight their mistreatment. You wouldn’t allow yourself to believe in any of their descendants. Yet Prince Jackson managed to ignite a spark in your beliefs.
You were meditating when he made his appearance in the same back alley you had clashed the night before. You heard his light steps as he approached, not daring to interrupt you.
“You came, your majesty.” You opened your eyes and jumped up. You noticed a sword resting at his side and the eagerness on his face.
“Could you not mock me any further? If you dislike my title, then do not use it at all.” He whined as he pushed back the hood from his face. You folded your arms over your chest and chuckled.
“Should I not address you at all?”
“My name is Jackson.”
“I thought you beheaded people for not using your royal titles.”
It was his turn to laugh. “I don’t think I could ever behead you no matter how hard I tried.”
You also noticed he dropped his aristocratic pattern of speech and that he relaxed his stance in your presence. You couldn’t understand how he was so trusting in a stranger. In a murderer.
“Well, Jackson, shall we begin?”
A thing you appreciated about him from the get-go was his diligence. He was a quick study, undoubtedly blessed with both natural talent and perseverance. He was following your every move, executing it gracefully and it was easy to guess he would, someday, surpass your abilities if you kept on mentoring him. He was one of the few royals by blood who had the genes of a warrior. So you saw no problem in pushing his physical limits from the start.
Jackson had good stamina. He understood you’d push his buttons in a somewhat sadistic manner but he was determined to keep up with you and prove his worth. He was fascinated by your even breath throughout the training and his respect for you grew. Not only did you have endurance but your moves were swift and elegant, not making any unnecessary motions. You looked like a feather, waltzing with the wind.
Jackson knew his own sword swings were becoming sloppier with each heavier breath taken. You had to step by his side, trailing your hand over his arm to correct his posture. You felt his muscles easing under your touch. “You always have to keep your sword pointed to your enemy. This way, he won’t be able to sway your defense so easily.”
Jackson nodded and straightened his arm. He was convinced your breath would have fanned over his neck had the mask not covered your face. He was getting distracted.
“We shall stop for the night. I don’t want your body to be sore in the morning without any logical explanation to your servants.”
Your fingers slid down his forearm slowly, igniting an unknown flare in his veins. He was definitely getting distracted.
“Thank you.” He muttered quietly, clearing his throat. “Say, uhm,…Ghost.”
“I won’t tell you my name.” you stated, sheathing your sword.
“I didn’t mean to ask that, although I am slightly disappointed.” He laughed and you found yourself staring a little longer at the way his eyes curved into crescents. “Could you maybe teach me about other things as well?”
“Oh? Such as?”
He walked over to you, his hands resting on his hips as he managed to even his breathing. “I want to learn about the outer world. You look like you could teach me about its wonders.”
You didn’t know if it was his ruffled hair glowing in the moonlight or the way his defined chest rose every time his lungs filled with air but there was something about him that softened The Ghost. Before you could put your guard up, you agreed.
“I am unaware of how good of a teacher I am.”
Jackson smiled brightly; it made you look away. “I am sure you are a great one.”
“You should go back to the palace.” You said dismissively, trying to shake off the disturbance. Jackson sighed and took his cloak from the ground, glancing at you with the corner of his eye. He wished to stay a little while longer. He threw the black fabric over his shoulders; you were gone before he had his chance to say goodbye.
 The next morning came too fast. Jackson opened his eyes and a rough groan evaded his chest at how heavy his body felt. He somehow managed to drape his arm over his eyes, putting in an inhumane amount of effort to ignore the pain in his muscles.
“Your majesty, are you not feeling well?” The head servant inquired, evident worry sketched all over her face. Jackson wanted to curse.
“Prepare a hot bath for me. I feel like I could die.”
The girls exchanged concerned looks among them before rushing out to express the Prince’s wish.
“There is an ominous flu in the air, your majesty. It might make your body weaker.” The head servant rushed to his side, helping him prompt himself up. “It is curious how you contacted it. Was it cold in your chamber last night, your majesty?”
A certain vicious female put me through Hell. “It was fine. I guess the season is to blame.”
“Should I send for your advisors to reschedule your day?”
Jackson pushed himself out of bed, adopting a funny stance as he stood. “No, I should be fine after the bath. I have a lot to do today and I cannot possibly afford to cancel it.”
One thing he managed to do best during that day was to attract the curious looks of servants and high officials alike as he was unable to walk properly. The young girls started chatting amongst themselves and it embarrassed the Prince to his core. Guiren was certainly aggravating the situation by involving himself with them and adding fuel to the fire. He made a mental note to punch Guiren as soon as he could. Even his brain felt atrophied. He couldn’t sit in the usual lotus position during his final lessons and some of the teachers had trouble containing their amusement at his struggles.
It lasted a couple of days until his body gradually got used to the effort. The first time you saw him walking with a cane to support his numb limbs, you nearly died of laughter. Jackson had never been that ashamed in his life. However, he got to enjoy the serene song of your laughter. He stole glances at the way your eyes would crinkle whenever you’d smile too wide and he had thought it unable to be jealous of a mask until then. He could not see your face but he was convinced you were beautiful.
After you had your fair share of laughter, you showed him a couple of exercises that would ease the tension in his muscles, guiding him closely throughout the process. He joked it was only fair to give him a massage and it took him a couple of moments to peel himself off the ground after a not so gentle push you gave him.
However, his inability to perform taxing battle stances meant you’d have more time to uncover tales about the world. It wasn’t a particular chronological order in which you told your tales; it was rather up to Jackson himself to decide what he was curious about. That night, you began unraveling the wonders of Greek Mythology because he only got vague answers from the adults at the court. It was a long and mighty history, so you took your time to travel through it, emphasizing some facts here and there, exaggerating others.
You had a mysterious way with words. Jackson found himself hypnotized by the way you’d express the universal history so carefully, yet so vividly he could extend his hand and brush his fingers over the events. Even as you resumed your battle training, you’d keep on telling which made it easier for him to grow accustomed to the art as he tried to put himself in the shoes of all the huge figures that came before him. And he could not get enough of your unique voice and the way it would liven up every otherwise dull word.
The nights started passing alarmingly faster and the expectation of seeing you again growing ardently. He was attracted to you like a moth to the flame, dangerously and all at once. Every minute that he spent in your company melted in the spiral of time so curiously that it felt like an eternity and a fleeting second all at once. What was more, he was convinced in his heart that the Ghost was only a sturdy façade of your true self. You weren’t what people made you to be: violent, barbaric, always lusting for blood. But you were so carefully hidden in the shell of the Ghost that it was almost impossible to tear yourself out of it.
Ironically, Jackson became eager to finish his duties at the palace successfully and speedily so he could gain some extra time to rest. Traversing back and forth between his royal assignments and the night rendezvous he had with you was demanding. The ministers and other highly ranked officials were extremely pleased with his hard work and started looking forward to having another dedicated King. Jackson couldn’t fathom what his father was thinking. For the time being, he kept his needed distance, doing his best not to give out any reason for doubt.
 Three days before the royal banquet, you decided to bring Jackson a gift for his dedication. It seemed unlikely you would grow accustomed to your nightly meetings but you started looking forward to them. You wouldn’t admit it to yourself, but you underestimated him dearly. He was not a transparent person as you made him be; he truly was dedicated and trusting in the good nature of people. He had a subtle sense of humor and a fine eye for details that topped all of your expectations of him. He still was a Prince and the future King of the empire but he couldn’t be more human in your eyes. Before you knew it, you started respecting him. The small something he ignited in your chest was burning zealously and it was more and more difficult to tear your mind off him. You thought you found a friend in him.
That night, he was the first one to arrive. The sound of air slashed by the metal of his sword guided you to him and you smiled to him, even if would never see it.
“I see you were eager to start your training, your majesty.”
At first, using his title was meant to bring disrespect to him but it gradually developed into one of the ways you’d tease him.
“Hello to you too, Ghost.” Jackson chuckled and turned to you. “This was meant to wake me up. I had a full day and I guessed I would fall asleep waiting for you.”
“I think I am on time?” you approached him and unveiled the present. Jackson’s eyes widened at the new type of sword he was shown. With a significantly thin but sharp blade and a guard over the handle, it was an impeccable type of weapon he had never seen before.
“This is called a sabre and is of Spanish origins. Only knights and the cavalry use these in Europe. Gentlemen and nobles in France, Italy, and Spain are taught how to fight with these swords from a frail age.”
“It… it is beautiful. Where did you get this?”
“I wouldn’t be the Ghost if I didn’t have connections. Only a handful have been brought on the continent and I am one of the owners. Or I will have been. It’s yours if you want it.”
Jackson darted a hopeful look at you. He was moved. “You cannot be serious.”
“Those hefty swords that soldiers use might work for you, but they do not bring out your true potential. The sabre is not meant for brute force but rather for swift approaches and agile attacks. You’re quick on your feet and you mostly defend your body from attacks through dodges. It should work for you.”
“But if only a couple… I cannot take it from you.”
You shook your head and extended your gloved hand to place on his shoulder. “It’s my good luck present for you, your majesty. I can teach you how to make use of it.”
Jackson was very conflicted at the time. You had kept a steady distance from him, merely acting as a teacher to him, and he thought it foolish to bring his hopes of getting to know you up. He started nurturing the selfish desire that you’d soon take off your mask and show yourself to him so he could make sense of the disturbing feelings whirled in his chest. And he considered doing it himself if he ran out of patience. You giving him such a masterpiece to guard had an irreversible effect on him that he’d make sense of at a later and unexpected time.
“But not tonight.”
Jackson’s forehead wrinkled. “Why.”
“That… is not your concern, unfortunately. I cannot stay. Should you wish to learn how to maneuver it, I will be waiting tomorrow night.”
The night engulfed you in its darkness and an oppressing feeling of disappointment nested in Jackson’s stomach as you disappeared.
 “You’re late, Y/n.”
You clicked your tongue and took out your mask, throwing it on the guild table. All of the other seven members of the council were gathered around, waiting collectively for you.
“Where were you?” the oldest and founding member questioned as you checked your braided hair. “Where’s the sabre?”
Out of the many arts they taught you, developing a persuasive nature, and the ability to lie without any smallest twitch in the muscles of your face were the ones you mastered best.
“I took a detour to bring it home, hence my late appearance.”
The co-founder grabbed at the bridge of his nose. “You knew we were discussing important matters tonight. May it not repeat again.”
“Sir.” You nodded and shifted your weight from one leg to the other. “The plans are in order I presume?”
“Complications have appeared.” Your uncle spoke sternly, handing you a set of papers. “This is the incriminatory proof that the treasurer has been abusing his power to fill his pockets. However, his authority wasn’t the only thing he managed to abuse.”
You skimmed through the papers, getting a general idea of the issue. It was pretty clear what you had to do. “Continue?”
“This man has been shielding assassins in his house.” Your master chimed in. “He has plotted the public death of both the King and Prince Wang on the night of the banquet.”
Your eyes widened and you looked up hurriedly at him. The founder continued.
“It’s the perfect cover. Various royals from all over the continent are bringing their daughters to win over Prince Wang’s heart and those who will not be chosen will be set up as murderers driven by revenge. It is not so unusual for assassins to sneak into such large public events.”
You clenched your fist, folding the papers in your hand in the process. “How did we not see this?”
“That snake has skilled confidants. It was very hard to obtain this bit of information because his guards are swarming around him all day long and his associates are, partly, royals who wished to overthrow the Prince but couldn’t due to their extended lineage.”
“This cannot happen.” You stated bluntly, raising the curiosity of all who were present. “Prince Wang is our only chance at correcting this empire. If he dies, there won’t be any shortcuts.”
You were taken aback by the words coming so effortlessly out of your mouth. You never cared for royals and had always despised them from the core of your existence. Why were you so protective over Jackson then?
“It will not happen.” The founder spoke through the silence, his eyes examining you thoroughly. “You are going to the banquet and so is your master. You are to prevent this from happening and extract the Treasurer silently from the event. Without any major events.”
Your uncle tilted his head to look at you. He was getting suspicious of your involvement with the Prince.
“What can you tell us about the Prince, Lady Y/n?” the cofounder challenged you and you had to bite into the plush of your cheek to hold back a rude remark.
“What about him?”
“We know you’ve been faithfully seeing him every night for the past 20 days. You have been mentoring him in swordsmanship and close combat. Why?”
A dark smirk crept on your lips. The low light of the candle lit in the middle of the wooden table brought a ghastly picture on your face. “Did you not want a competent King? I am making sure of that.”
“You’re playing with fire, little Lady. Are you sure he hasn’t charmed his way into your skirt?”
“Enough!” the founder rose his voice before you got the chance to curse at the other man for his irresponsible accusations. Although it assuredly made you ponder over the fact that you were bothered by the whole meaning of the banquet. “Does the royal family suspect anything?”
“No.” You turned abruptly to the founder. “They are concerned over outer military conflicts and eventual riots of the peasantry but they are not aware of the fact their lives are threatened.”
“And it shall stay like this,” your master concluded. “We cannot execute our mission without full discretion. I trust Y/n enough to dismiss your words, co-founder. We will carry our duty.”
The meeting ended with a final revision of the plan and the older men retreated to their respective homes. You were prepared to follow their examples and wanted to put the mask over your face again when your uncle grabbed you by the wrist. “You gave him the saber, didn’t you?”
Your gaze was fixated to the grand door of the hall, your back turned to him. You didn’t answer.
“Y/n, my darling, do you have feelings for the Prince?”
“No.” you answered too fast for your own liking. “And I didn’t reveal my identity to him either, Uncle. I don’t trust him.”
Except you did trust him. And it was the first lie you weren’t convinced to say. Your uncle let go of your hand and you put back your mask.
“Out of all men, why does it have to be the Prince, Y/n? You can never have him.”
You pushed the door open and gulped down a burdensome sentiment. “I know.”
 The way back to the palace had never felt so lonely. Jackson managed to sneak back in successfully but he couldn’t shake off the disappointment eating at him. Just when he thought he was so close to laying the last brick, you crushed all his efforts yet again. Did he truly mean nothing to you? What was he lacking that he could not improve? What was missing from him so important that you kept yourself hidden so far away from his grasp?
Jackson hid the sabre neatly in the small space he dug into the floor, among his many other treasured possessions.  Frustration was getting the best of him. Even the trivial task of undressing himself proved to be difficult as his fingers trembled with silent anger. The door to his chamber opened unexpectedly made him lash out his resentments.
“Who gave you permission to enter my room—“
Jackson froze at the sight of his father coming in. He rushed to bow to him, keeping his eyes focused on the colored carpets.
“So you are back, my son.”
He was ruined. The beating he would receive was one thing but explaining his situation with The Masked Ghost was a whole other matter. He had to come up with something. He remembered you telling him that panic was never a good solution to problems and that he should always analyze his situation before acting.
“Father, I was not expecting you at this hour.”
“You would have known I came by earlier had you been in your chamber.”
Jackson straightened his body and watched his father hide his hands in the large sleeves of his night attire. His face did not dictate anger.
“I know you have been sneaking out for a while, Jackson. You know we have moved up the ceremony of ascension the day after the banquet and you still waste your nights irresponsibly in town. I thought we have cleared it already.”
“My apologies, father. “ Jackson dipped his head in a bow, his hands brought together. No words would be able to save the situation.
“Is it a woman, my son? Why do you not bring her to court so she could properly become your consort?”
Jackson looked away, failing to provide an answer. It was not an easy question his father asked but it appeared he did not know why he was sneaking out; that settled most of his concerns.
“No mind, you would have, had she desired so.” He nodded his head softly. “But it has to end, boy.”
The King walked closer to Jackson and placed his hands on Jackson’s shoulders. “You will pick a woman fit to be your consort in just a few days and you will not have the need to satisfy your desires in secrecy. Kings do not lower themselves like that, Jackson.”
“Yes, father.” He pursed his lips. Jackson knew he pushed his luck doing what he was. “What did you wish to see me about?”
“Ah, I almost forgot.” The King pulled back and snaked his hand into his robe to pull out a beautifully carved wooden box. Jackson opened it and saw a handmade brooch, adorned with precious stones in an elegant foreign design. It was a piece of dazzling jewelry.
“You should gift it to your future woman.”
Jackson forced a smile. He disliked the whole masquerade that tradition was and the very thought of it made him sick in the stomach.
“I don’t want you going out anymore, understood? I shall grant you tomorrow night to say whatever you wish to say and that is it. I have high expectations of you. Do not make me change my mind about you, not after you’ve worked so hard.”
Jackson bowed to the King as he walked out of his chamber and let out a heavy sigh. He threw the little box on the bed and plopped down in the comfort of the blankets. He fell asleep thinking how much you’d love the brooch.
 “You’re dead silent today, your majesty.” Guiren pointed out as he munched on his breakfast. “I figured you would teach me more of those impressive techniques the Ghost showed you! Those are dandy.”
Jackson threw his chopsticks on the table, the mention of you making him lose his appetite. “Father found out I was sneaking out.”
Guiren quirked a brow. “I apologize. How bad is it?”
“Not extensively bad. He does not know I have been seeing the Ghost but he made it very clear to stop.”
“Of course you should. You will soon choose a wife, of course, you should focus your attention on her. Women are so picky and need a lot of pampering, especially daughters of rich royals—“
“This is wrong, Guiren.” Jackson sighed exasperatedly. “All of this is so wrong. I just…I can’t.”
Guiren clicked his tongue. “Is it wrong because it is not the woman you want?”
Jackson placed his hand over his eyes, rubbing at his temples. He didn’t know what to think anymore, what was the truth and what was not. He disagreed with it from the beginning but the idea grew more and more gruesome by the second. Jackson figured what Guiren was implying but he was so confused himself that he could not provide a valid answer.
“Tell me, Jackson. What is it so special about The Masked Ghost? She is just a criminal.”
“It’s not about her, Guiren. And she is not just a criminal. This woman is more intelligent than all of the teachers in the palace combined. “
And a very good listener, too. “She is bad news, Jackson. Little does it matter that she is skilled or intelligent or whatnot. She is a criminal at the end of the day. And people don’t change. Give up on her before it comes back haunting you. That is one thing I am unable to save you from.”
 Jackson’s steps were weighty as he walked to your meeting place. An abundance of feelings was pressing relentlessly over his shoulders, an unknown territory he did not have the knowledge to explore. Guren’s words were reverberating in his ears. He had to let you remain a ghost in spite of the caustic cravings in his chest.
He hoped to have a leisure last conversation with you so he could work on letting you go with peace of mind. When he saw you did not have your sword either he smiled to himself sadly. You read each other’s minds.
“I was worried you might scold me.” Jackson began in a melancholic tone. “But I won’t have to worry about that.”
Your body remained motionless at his words. “Follow me.”
Jackson let you take the lead and followed you to a nearby open plain that uncovered the beauty of the night sky. The dark horizon was embellished with glowing stars, the moon ruling over the world all mighty. You seated yourself on the grass and pat the spot beside you so Jackson would do the same.
“You never cease to amaze me.” Jackson commented, the vibrant light of the moon mirrored in his eyes.
You looked at him and found him ethereal, a work of art of all the known and unknown deities of the world. He was truly a handsome creature.
“Neither do you” you replied, although more to yourself.
Jackson chuckled lightly, his eyes focused on the nocturnal view. “I cannot see you anymore.”
You hugged your knees to your chest, relieved the sentence came out of his mouth and not yours. It felt a little less painful if he said so, although it didn’t ease the storm in your stomach. It was fine like that. You did not want him to hate you. He had to forget you and to forget, he couldn’t nurture hate for you because it would be engraved upon his heart. You knew that whatever one wished to forget, must not be preceded by hate. The memory you wanted him to have of you had to be a cherished one, not one of an obscene criminal.
“I understand.” You replied after a short while, a chilly breeze carrying your unsaid confession to the horizon. “How does it feel to know you’ll have the finest women on the continent battling for a place in your heart?”
“I…I don’t want any of it.” Jackson leaned on his back, extending his arm to the infinity of the stars. “It is wrong to make a draft and pick a woman as simply as you’d pick your attire for the day. Then drag them to bed to convince them they are acknowledged by the royal lineage. I want…”
Jackson’s voice trailed off and he let his arm fall to the ground. “…to love someone.”
Another endearing breeze masked a gasp that escaped your lips and you tilted your head to look at him. His face was painted with an old sadness of a soul that traversed the galaxy in search of a missing love and returned to the Earth to find it.
You clutched your chest in a desperate attempt to dissipate the suffocating air in your ribcage. You couldn’t stay. The longer you stayed by his side, the more you’d get pulled toward his existence and it was painful as flesh on shattered glass. You rose hastily to your feet, walking a couple of steps away from him.
Jackson waited a few moments in the grass, resisting the urge to stand up and follow after you. He tilted his head to the side and noticed your silhouette defying the peace of the landscape. He had to sit up to make sure he saw it right; your hair was let down, unbraided, the waves in your strands resembling the unsettling waves of the sea. Your mask was in your hand. He was incapable to catch a glimpse of your face as your back was turned to him and your hair was guarding your identity faithfully. It was the most distinctive shade of ebony his eyes had ever witnessed.
“I pray that you find the love you deserve someday, your majesty.”
Jackson reached out to you but was powerless to stop you as you melted into the night, your voice a distant echo.
  “I did not anticipate so many people coming to the palace.”
Your eyes struggled to comprehend the multitude of things happening all at once. As soon as the guards allowed you to pass through, you were met by a sea of people swarming all over the place, competing against one another through the diversity of their outfits and appearance. The plaited decorations dangling from the rafters were coming alive in the beams of light shed by the lanterns. The small origami figures resembled flowers blooming from the twigs and the bold aroma of traditional food invited you to lose yourself in the unparalleled tableau.
You felt your master’s hand on top of your head and blushed as you snapped back to reality. “I know it is beautiful. I wish from the bottom of my heart you could enjoy it as you saw fit.”
You nodded and straightened your hand-made dress. You made good use of the bright yellow silk you bought from the street merchant the other day, making a dress befitting your silhouette. Your uncle praised you on the sewn floral details on the lapel and the elegant choice of bringing a white embroidery over the color. You had a small knife hidden in the golden sash tied in a ribbon around your waist. You also let your hair fall charmingly over your shoulders, trembling with each little step you took. The hair accessory holding part of your locks behind your ear was a daring gift from your Uncle. The single emerald on it complimented your attire perfectly.
“I know, Master. But we’re here to do our jobs. We should split up to cover more ground. The palace is indeed humongous.”
“You remember the blueprints?”
“I know where to bring them.”
A large amount of people was both an advantage and a disadvantage. You could blend easily in the crowd and hide your tracks but there were many guards supervising the area. And you had to concentrate your attention in many places at once. It was the hardest when you stepped inside the grand hall of the palace thanks to the forged papers from the guild. It was supposed to be a restricted area for the royals only but the air was suffocating with so many humans gathered in one place.
According to tradition, the Prince was allowed to roam free among the public, to greet them and receive their prayers before midnight. He also enjoyed the liberty of immersing himself in the traditional dances, alas was only in the restricted space to ensure his involvement with royal women. You decided it nearly impossible for the Prince to spot you amidst such mass of people so you took the liberty to examine the situation for any suspicious figures you were instructed about. The thrones in the far end of the room were empty which offered an extension of time.
It was, however, easier said than done. You recognized some of the lords but most of them remained unidentified to you and you weren’t exactly aware of what you were looking for either. You sneaked to the side of the room, trying to get a better angle.
“I do not recognize you, my Lady.”
You turned your body toward the source of the voice and met Colonel Guiren, his eyes studying you curiously. You smiled in response, thinking of ways to subtly extract bits of information about the people present. “Ah, Master, I beg your pardon, I am but another face in the crowd.”
The smirk shaping on Guiren’s face suggested you successfully captured him with your words. “I might be mistaken but there is no one around resembling your pulchritude.”
You couldn’t help but let out a giggle. He wasn’t as talented in speech as the Prince but he was a charmer himself. “You are exaggerating, Master. I cannot help but feel lacking in comparison to some of the women here such as—“
You turned your attention to the crowd, hoping to draw a quick response from the Colonel when the words froze and pulverize on your lips. You saw Prince Jackson distinctively staring at you through the many females gathered around him.
 “Oh, Jackson, you will feel it battling so violently in your chest, it’s an unmistakable feeling. You will just know.”
It was a beautiful war raging inside of him. The moment he laid eyes on the beautiful creature on the other side of the room, he knew it was you. The surreal shade of ebony of your hair confirmed his suspicions. And the way you carried yourself, the way your eyes crinkled ever so familiarly as you spoke were the same outstanding lines he repeatedly saw nights in a row. But your sublime features and lines in your face and skin were breathtaking. What was he doing before he met you? What did his heart do, with all the love?
Jackson’s eyes locked with your amber ones for a fading second before your sudden rush to leave meddled with his intentions of rushing over to you. He remembered his mother’s words faithfully and the hammering heart in his chest urged him to follow after you. He wouldn’t let you go again. He now made sense of the hesitation that chained him three nights prior; he was meant to meet you in your entirety and not in the dim space between mask and shadows.
Jackson chased after you, his eyes never peeling off your silhouette, pushing people out of his way. You must have realized he figured out your identity with just a glance and he wondered if you regretted your decision of showing yourself to him if you ran so fast to avid him. He barely made it in time to catch you by the wrist and held on tighter as you tried to rip yourself from his grasp. All eyes were fixated on the two of you as the tune of another melody started and Jackson pulled you into himself, forcing you to dance with him to hide you from the crowd.
“It’s you.” He barely managed to whisper, your hands in his setting fire to his fingertips. You swayed your body to the tune, forcing yourself to remain composed. Little did he know your body was reacting just as violently as his, thunder and rain cracking your insides little by little.
“You are destroying my cover, Prince.” You leaned over to him to whisper in his ear then backed away, making a pirouette. Jackson extended his arm and placed his hand on your exposed forearm, causing a fire to erupt in your veins.
“How are you here?”
His eyes were smoldering as he memorized even the tiniest characteristic of your face. You suddenly felt so small under his gaze and could only hope your cheeks weren’t turning red. His touch on your arm was magnetic.
“Do not mistake my intentions, your majesty.” You hissed, stripping yourself of him. You dug your teeth into your tongue, biting down a whine from the painful lack of contact. “I am not here for you.”
“Don’t lie to me.” Jackson grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to him once again, his eyes never leaving yours. “How are you here?”
You looked to the side for a second and noticed the suspicious movements of two men chatting with your target not far from where you stood. You leaned up and brushed your cheek over his, your lips speaking sharply in his ear. “Your life is in danger, Jackson. You need to leave and you need to do it now.”
“What?” He meant to look at you but you cupped his cheek to keep him in place. Those unknown men left their positions while you spoke.
“Don’t move. I lost sight of them.”
You brought your other hand to your sash, fingers resting on the knife. You felt Jackson’s body stiffen. “What is going on? You are scaring me—“
You pushed Jackson away and placed yourself in the way of a throwing knife that penetrated your shoulder, a dangerous miss from the collarbone. The aim was not as steady as the culprit wished it would be but you didn’t hesitate with yours and made a clear throw which stabbed him in the throat. You clicked your tongue. He was dressed in an expensive robe; you knew it would not be plausible he tried to take the Prince’s life.
The panicked crowd started screaming and running around to get away from the horrific incident as rapidly as possible. Two other masked assassins appeared on the scene, facing you from either side. You removed the knife from your shoulder and tore your overcoat to grant yourself some extended movement. A timid stream of blood started flowing out.
“You need to get away from here.” You ordered Jackson.
“No. I am staying here to fight—“
Guiren grabbed Jackson by the arm and dragged him away despite his fervent protests. “The Ghost is right, your majesty. We need to get you to safety.”
You dipped your head to Guiren and offered Jackson a sliver of a smile in hopes of easing his worried stance. You turned your full attention to your opponents who had already drawn their swords and made a quick analysis of the situation. It was highly unlikely you would come off victorious.
You braced yourself for your attackers, managing to swiftly dodge the first swing of a sword. You twirled your body from between them and leaned to the side to parry the other sword with your knife. You kicked the attacker’s hand and threw him off balance. The sword flew out of his hand and you knelt down to grab it, scarcely escaping a deadly blow that still cut deeply into your thigh. You sloppily threw your knife to one of them and he caught it in his hand because of thick layered armor.
The rowdy noise of the guards coming made the assassins give up on your fight and run away. You didn’t have enough time to follow their example and were surrounded by the soldiers. The sword made a sharp sound as it bounced off the ground, your hands raised to either side of your head to signal your surrender. One of the guards stepped on the fresh wound in your thigh and a horrid screech evaded from the depth of your chest. You were prompted up forcefully, your master watching the scene helplessly. You signaled him silently to walk away as they dragged you to their prison.
 The dungeon was hauntingly silent as Jackson dashed through the murky hallways to where Guiren told him you were brought. The Colonel was following close behind him to supervise his actions and put a halt to any premature decisions. Hope flickered in his heart at the silence, wishing they hadn’t started torturing you. Jackson was stupefied to see your standing body tied in rusty chains by either wrist, your skin colored purple from the hits you took and various fresh cuts dug into your flesh.
At a closer look, the Treasurer had a dagger in his hand, your blood dripping relentlessly from its blade. The King and another two soldiers were watching intently and the Treasurer forced the dagger into your collarbone, eliciting a mere groan from you. Your lack of displayed discomfort irritated him.
“This is for my brother, you bitch!” He took a full swing at your stomach and you spat the pool of blood in your mouth on his clothes in response. Guiren had to hold Jackson with both hands to restrain him.
The King rose his hand in the air to stop his Treasurer from sticking the blade into your throat. The King stepped closer to you and one of the soldiers grabbed you by the hair to force you to look at him. The pain was rapidly getting unbearable and you felt lightheaded. It took every ounce of effort to keep yourself awake.
“Are you The Masked Ghost, child?”
You remained silent at his question and the same soldier kicked you in the small of your back. You let go of the chains you had been holding on and felt your body leaning forward. “Answer the King!”
You lifted your eyes and caught Jackson’s frame staring at you with his mouth slightly agape and his fists clenched. The look of despair on his face would be etched in your senses for as long as you had left to live. You wanted him to rush out of there.
“I will show you what it means to threaten the royal council and its King.”
The Treasurer took off his overcoat and moved quickly to remove his sash and overskirt. The next thing that would follow would be him raping you and you hoped from the bottom of your heart Jackson would walk away before it was too late.
“Is this the kind of King you want to be, your majesty?” you groaned in a weak tone, your eyes fixated on Jackson’s numb frame. The King turned to his son with interest imprinted on his features.
But you were right. Jackson was set to become King of the Empire in a matter of hours and having his prisoners abused without a proper trial was only a fraction of the laws everyone was so casually stepping upon. Seeing you so stubbornly refusing to satisfy their desires of hearing you beg and cry for your life after they butchered your body so carelessly broke Jackson’s heart. But more than anything, it showed him how much of a coward he was.
“Stop.” Jackson stepped forward, much to the disapproval of the Treasurer.
“Prince? Allow me to teach this whore a lesson—“
“I think I told you to stop. Did I stutter?”
You had never thought Jackson capable of owning such a caustic glint in his eyes. You noticed his breathing was uneven as if he was struggling to contain himself. “Walk away from the prisoner at once. She thought she saved my life; should I not be the one to offer my gratitude?”
The Treasurer bowed his head and stepped back, dressing himself. The King noticed the change of behavior and pondered over its meaning. Earlier that day, he had received a set of papers anonymously, incriminating the Treasurer and his family for high treason. It didn’t seem too credible back then.
“Guards, take the Treasurer to a cell in the upper level. Make sure he gets comfortable.”
The guards did not hesitate to take the man away in a torrent of questions and pleadings.
“The girl shall be executed tomorrow as an offering to the new King.”
Jackson turned to his father abruptly. “Father—“
The King stopped by Jackson’s side, his eyes facing forward. “This decision belongs to me. It is up to you however you choose to carry it or not. If this girl here is the Ghost and you had been seeing her, this is a difficult decision you have to make. But she stays in the cell and that is not debatable. Guiren, please make sure the Prince does not make any hasty decisions.”
Guiren bowed to the King and then came closer to see you. “Nice to finally meet you, Ghost.”
“Don’t make me spit in your face too.” You moaned, taking a harsh hold of the chains. You assumed you had a couple of broken ribs and most likely damaged kidneys from the kick in your back. “Leave me be.”
Jackson couldn’t bear to look at you. He fantasized about holding the love of his life in his protective arms, worshipping her body with every tender touch ghosting over her skin, not chained up like a wild animal, carved open barbarically. You were so divinely beautiful but so devilishly destroyed by the primitive hands of men. Someone like you was meant to be glorified. And those eyes, those amber eyes that gnawed at Jackson’s existence.
“Let us go, Colonel.” Jackson spoke absentmindedly and you watched his back as he walked away. You could finally let out the sobs and the tears welling up in your eyes.
 The next morning you were brought to the inside yard of the palace where the ceremony of ascension would take place. You were forced back into your senses after a bucket of icy water was thrown on your numb body; it washed some of the dirt on your figure but you were sure you looked beyond pitiful. You were dragged in front of the officials who took your time to spit on you and address you pieces of their minds. You were thrown to the middle of the area, on your knees, and were tied mercilessly like the lowest scum on Earth. You laughed to yourself. You had never foreseen such a pathetic ending for the Ghost. And you knew no one was foolish enough to come for you. The security was too tight.
The ceremony was beautiful. A zealous round of applause welcomed Prince Jackson as he stepped among his followers. You lifted your head to look at him. He was dressed in a carefully crafted traditional attire, befitting of a King. The details embroidered on the silk were unlike any you had ever seen, complementing the colors in an imposing image. Jackson’s face was implacable and his every gesture was calm and accentuated. You smiled and looked up to the sky. It was painted a serene blue.
You felt your conscience slowly drifting away. Everything surrounding you became a vibrant buzzing. You didn’t know when the religious part of the ceremony passed, or when Jackson made his oath as King, but you didn’t need to. Getting to know Jackson over the past month would seem a trivial matter, yet you felt as if you had known him forever ago. You regretted having so little time to spend with him. You wondered how he saw you beyond your shell, how he saw you talking with your body and with your words. You wondered if he could read all of the truth in your nature. You wondered if you were the only one knowing that your soul and his soul have met many years ago and have been old friends.
A tear traversed your cheek. It was the first time you envied the Gods for their immortality. But wasn’t that the crimson beauty of a human life? Would you ask to be anything else? Would you rather suffer losing everything you loved best in the world day after day rather than having it slip from your fingers once and then never again?
You felt powerful arms lifting you from the ground. It must have been time for your sentence.
You rose your head from the ground and saw Jackson walking over to you in a slow, agonizing manner. The crown on his head suited him well. You were shoved to the side, near what you figured would be your execution spot. Jackson stopped a couple of steps away from you and you made eye contact with him. You couldn’t read him.
“This woman shall not be executed today, not ever. No one dares lay a finger on her without my permission.”
One of the Ministers questioned King Jackson’s words. “Your Majesty, she killed a high official last night! She deserves to die.”
“Do you defy my words?” Jackson didn’t even bother glancing in his direction.
“Your Majesty, we have reports she might be The Masked Ghost, cold-blooded murderer of the royals and high clerks—“
Jackson made a dismissive gesture with his hand and the courageous minster was brought forth. “Behead him.”
“Your Majesty—“
You couldn’t believe your ears. It was clear you weren’t in your right mind and you must have died in the dungeon, your body probably rotting in a canal. You dug your nails into the palm of your hand to identify if your sensorial perception was still functioning. You were convinced of it when the former Minister’s head rolled on the concrete at your feet. Jackson didn’t even flinch.
“And while we are discussing the matter, there is no available proof that this woman is the Ghost.”
The Treasurer stepped out of line. “Your Majesty, she killed my brother! You cannot let her live.”
“Bring the Treasurer over here too. His punishment will be death by a hundred cuts.”
The crowd started murmuring among themselves. Jackson took out a piece of paper from his robe and showed it to the public. It was the report your guild sent to the previous King, signed and approved while he was in active duty. “You are hereby charged with high treason for abuse of power and threatening the life of the King.”
The Treasurer was taken away under the terrified eyes of the crowd. You looked over to the previous King and you could swear you detected pride on his features.
“Let this be a lesson for anyone who dares to cross me. Starting with this moment, every high ranked official and clerk will be under my strict supervision and any form of breaking the law, no matter how mild and no matter the position in the country will be punished by death.”
Jackson extended his hand to run his thumb over your bruised cheek. “Excepting her. She is my woman.”
Silence fell over the yard before it burst in a storm of cheers. ‘Long live the King’ resounded deep into the Empire. You heard Jackson giving instructions to his servants to bring you to his room and summon all the talented healers of the Empire to check on your condition. He gave you one last soft look before he left to salute the people of the empire outside of the palace court.
You were untied and you would have fallen to the ground if a pair of gentle arms hadn’t caught you. You opened your eyes to see Guiren supporting your weight before lifting you in his arms to carry you inside the palace.
“Guiren…”
“Don’t worry. You will be okay…” he paused and pursed his lips in a cheeky smirk “Your Majesty.”
“What just happened?” you let out a low groan, every cut in your body burning. “Shouldn’t you follow him?”
“See, I do not know what happened because this is a side of Jackson I had never seen before, but one I greatly look forward to.”
You noticed Guiren did not talk hollowly, addressing Jackson as a royal, but rather with a never-ending amount of respect as a confidant, a friend and as King. “He explicitly ordered me to stay by your side and make sure you are offered whatever you need. He would have made sure of that himself but you know, duty cannot wait.”
Guiren put you down on a stool outside what you gathered to be the bath. He talked indistinctively with an old servant, instructing her on how to clean your wounds and what kind of ointment to use as a first-aid measure. He then knelt down to your level.
“I will be outside should there be anything you dislike or want. Don’t hesitate to call me, your majesty.”
“Stop calling me that.” You nodded your head at him and allowed yourself to be carried by the young women inside the bath. Guiren laughed. “I wouldn’t if I knew your name.”
 You had never been so pampered in your entire life. There were at least a dozen women constantly crowding around you, taking turns to provide any comfort necessary. Five young servants attended to your body, along with the head servant, who helped clean you thoroughly, after which she followed Guiren’s instructions devotedly. None of them said any words to you and you stayed in a mortifying silence. You took some initiatives to do things yourself but every time you did, you were met by an oppressive stare from the head servant.
The young girls dried your body with soft linen and the senior made a gesture for the tailors to come in with a large selection of fine dresses. Your ears were red from embarrassment but as you saw no window for escape, you chose a simple burgundy one, in case your wounds might open up again. After that, you were carried to King Jackson’s royal chamber and tucked in his bed successfully. You let out a long moan at the softness of the bed and you witnessed the servants panic collectively.
“It is fine.” You assured them and turned to the head servant. “Would it be possible to leave me rest for the time being? I am very tired.”
She looked at you and sighed. “If that is your wish, your majesty. I shall call the healers at a later time, then.”
You would have protested at the tittle everyone nonchalantly addressed you by. You hated being treated as a superior human being, just as you heard the title so carelessly abused in the past by the upper class. However, your eyelids were heavy and you couldn’t explore the subjects any further as you fell into a deep slumber.
 You had no idea how much time passed while you slept. You wrinkled your forehead and opened your eyes, an unknown source of warmth enveloping your hand. You tilted your head on the pillow and found Jackson sitting on the edge of the bed, both his hands holding your small one. He was not dressed in his distinctive royal attire anymore but in a casual black and golden outfit.
“How much did I sleep?”
“It’s almost midnight.”
You sighed and tried sitting up. Jackson rushed to help you and put all the existing pillows to your back to support your body. Your damaged shoulder was still stinging in pain.
“I understand the healers have yet to examine you.” Jackson spoke softly, worried by the unpleasant expression on your face. “Should I summon them?”
You were taught by your guild how to determine the condition of your body after a fight and you normally would not need any help in doing so. The torture you underwent left you with a big question mark in your mind, however. You nodded your head and Jackson called for the healers. Most of your own predictions were accurate. You had three broken ribs and a fractured collarbone, but your kidneys did not show any sign of failure for the time being and your wounds were skillfully mended to before they infected. All of them commented on the excellent build of your body and estimated a speedy recovery.
One of the healers handed Jackson a list of herbs and ointments you would have to use, along with a proper diet to ensure the building of anatomic tissue. You thanked all of them kindly as they went their way then turned to Jackson who visibly relaxed.
“Thank God.” He sighed. “Should I call for a meal? Are you hungry?”
“I don’t think I can eat.” You shook your head and looked at him. “Why did you spare my life? You should have let me die.”
There was a grim feeling that engulfed Jackson’s entire body at your words. He looked at you with the softest eyes you had ever seen and sighed deeply. “Stop saying such hurtful things.”
“It’s the truth. I am The Ghost—“
“I love you.”
You were perplexed by his words. The heart in your chest reacted instantly, hammering so uncontrollably fierce. “I knew ever since our first encounter that I’ve loved you, dear hell, even before that I am sure. I just knew. You captivated me with every little thing that you would do. I would have traded my life to know the real you that you refused so adamantly to show me. It was especially hard that night on the plain. I chose to respect your wish that you just might not want me the way I desired you.”
Tears were threatening to fall from Jackson’s eyes. “You appeared at the banquet and I swear I could have never mistaken you. And you were just…just perfect. I wanted you to be my Queen. It had to be you and no one else. It occurred to me I had been waiting for you my entire life and now I know why. The entire Universe conspired to help me find you.”
You started crying before you knew it. You were sobbing quietly, the droplets falling from your eyes with comfortable ease. Jackson was smiling through his own tears as well, taking your face in his hands to wipe away your sadness. “I knew you were lying to me. These beautiful amber eyes sold you out.”
Jackson wrapped his arms around you protectively, ever so gentle as to not hurt you. You buried your head in the crook of his neck and cried peacefully. Every tear shed felt like medicine; you were so content with not having to hide anymore that you could not stop until you had no more tears left to cry.
“I am so sorry, Jackson. I am sorry. I love you too, so much.”
Jackson caressed your hair, curling his fingers through its softness. He pulled back to kiss the crown of your head. “I fell in love with a woman whose name I do not know. And I greatly wish to call you by your name.”
You nodded softly and leaned into his chest. The sound of his heart beating was so calm. “Y/n. Y/n, L/n. Also professionally known as The Masked Ghost.”
“Y/n…” he repeated quietly and all of a sudden your heart calmed down to Jackson’s own rhythm. Him calling your name felt immensely right, a harmonious sound that no other living creature could reproduce. You realized what was missing from you; it was the same person you kept on denying, the only one who was worthy of calling you by your name. It came as a revelation that you and Jackson have been destined to find each other, destined to do great things together.
“Say, Jackson.” He pulled back, placing you down gently back on the pillows. “Why is everyone calling me ‘your majesty’?”
“Oh, that.” Jackson chuckled and got out of bed to put out some of the candles. “I think that because I endearingly called you ‘my woman’…things happened.”
You blinked a couple of times to accommodate yourself to the lack of light. “I might need some time to adjust to that.”
Jackson climbed in beside you pulling the covers over you. You felt him hesitate. “What do you mean by that?”
“Am I not your woman?”
You couldn’t see him but you knew he breathed in a smile. “Does that mean you will stay?”
Jackson helped you lower your body to the mattress and shifted on his side to face you. He was fighting a difficult battle with his urge to pull you to him and kiss every part of your body but he settled to just listening to your voice. For your own sake.
“I wish to continue my activity as the Ghost. Even if you reform the aristocratic class, there will still be criminals and thieves on the loose. People cannot conquer them on their own.”
Jackson agreed. “I figured you would say this. There is no one in the Empire besides me and Guiren who know you are the Ghost. I told a very convincing story to the Council.”
“So you do not want me to cease my activity?”
“How could I forbid you a part of who you are?”
Your hand found his and gave it a small squeeze. Jackson brought your hand to his lips to place a kiss to the back of it. “I need the Ghost to lead the Empire. I need her knowledge and her skills and the faith she gives people. I originally wanted to convince the Ghost to be my partner, until she decided it willingly. And I know better than to anger you.”
You giggled. “I promise I will teach you everything I know. I think I still have a duty to pay with the sabre.”
“Oh, talking about gifts, I almost forgot.”
You watched Jackson curiously as he draped his arm to the table by the bed, pulling its drawer. He took out a small wooden box. “Open it.”
You took the box in your hands and opened it to reveal a refined brooch. You recognized the design; you wanted to buy it personally from the foreign merchant but it had been promised to the royal family. You smiled widely. “Thank you, Jackson. I actually wanted to have it for myself and I was so disappointed to hear it was a lost cause.”
“My father gave it to me saying I should give it to the woman I picked at the banquet. I think that woman picked me, instead.”
Jackson smiled at the sight of the pink hue on your cheeks. He put the box back into the drawer and nested himself beside you, not letting go of your hand. “Tell me another story.”
You hummed and relaxed your body. His hand in yours was anchoring you to reality. A heavenly reality. You would have to learn to adapt to the royal life but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make for those you swore to protect when you put on the mask. You would have to settle your affairs with the guild and show them the new path you were forging, reassure them and the folk The Masked Ghost was still a servant of the people. But you had a good partner walking by your side every step of the way.
“Allow me to tell your majesty the tale of The Masked Ghost.”
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is0gild · 4 years
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Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 17
Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC
Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.
Word Count: 12,131
FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER
Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!
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Day three of Operation Boyfriend But Shh Not Really and so far, so good.
Though the thought of this triple date had my inner recluse curling up into the fetal position, I'd manage to convince myself it actually was a good thing when you really thought about it. One, it gave me more practice for trying to do this whole couply… thing I was trying to do. More practice meant I'd eventually, hopefully be more comfortable with it all, as well as less chance for screw-ups in front of my parents when the dreaded but inevitable weekend with them at last came. Two, we were trying to maintain this image of being boyfriend and girlfriend in front of everyone else at the mall. And boyfriends and girlfriends went on dates. What better way to be seen going on said dates than by going out with other actual couples? And three, we couldn't forget about the person the Duke had hired to tail Anna originally and could quite possibly still be keeping tabs on me now. If they were still out there lurking, it was important that they, even more so than anyone else,see me dating.
It was still kind of weird to think about - that an actual, real life PI or whatever had been surveilling me constantly for who knows how long and I'd had no idea. It felt so surreal. Unreal even. But the Duke was absolutely that crazy and I wouldn't put it past him to still have someone keeping an eye on me, looking for any cracks in the story, any slip-ups or mistakes. I'd have to start paying attention more when I was out and about, see if I could figure out who it was, spot any faces that seemed to always show up everywhere I went.
But then, even if I did identify a likely culprit, I would have absolutely no idea what to do with that information once I had it. Even if I marched right up to them and told them their cover had been blown so they may as well scram, the Duke was just insane enough and rich enough to keep hiring new people to do the job instead.
...jeez, I was really starting to sound paranoid now, wasn't I?
With my luck, it'd turn out the Duke no longer had anyone following me after he'd confronted me in the food court.
Best not to think about it too much, because honestly? It'd get me nowhere.
Sighing, I banished the thoughts from my head as I watched the buildings blur past my window from the backseat of Riku's silver Ford Focus. The three of us were on our way to the restaurant now and Lea, Kairi and Sora were going to meet us there. My hand anxiously smoothed out the creases of my outfit - a dark magenta sheath dress with long sleeves and a hemline at the knees. It had a tastefully low v-neckline and a double layered skirt, the top layer made of a shimmering gossamer material. Nice, but nothing too fancy for our "nothing too fancy" date, to use Kairi's words.
Per Lea's request, I'd also worn his leather jacket. It made sense, after all. Nothing screamed "dating" more than one half of a couple wearing their other half's clothes, so it certainly helped maintain the facade. His boy scent still lingered on it, even though he hadn't worn it in a couple of days now, given it had been in my possession. The smell was somehow both soothing and butterflies-in-the-stomach inducing at the same time. It was an odd mix of emotions, to say the least.
I felt a buzz in the jacket's pocket. Pulling out my phone (gosh, it was so weird having one again after going so many weeks without) I checked my notifications to discover I'd received a text.
Well, speak of the devil.
Still cant believe u didnt lemme come pick u up
Shaking my head with a small snort, I tapped out a reply to Lea.
It just made the most logical sense for me to ride with Riku and Rayne since we were all coming from the same place.
Rayne suddenly cried out happily, drawing my attention to her as she clapped and bounced in the front passenger seat. "Ahh, I'm still just so excited for date night! Good food, great company, hot hubby," she slyly pinched Riku's cheek, which he endured with dignity as he drove. "What more could a girl ask for?"
He chuckled as he shifted the car over into the turn lane. "You make it sound like I never take you out."
"You know that's not what I mean!" she playfully smacked his shoulder. "But with the baby on the way, I don't know how many more of these I'll have! This is one of my last chances to enjoy freedom! Jesus take the fucking wheel, hallelujah!"
I felt my phone vibrate in my hand again and I looked down at it.
I know not this logic u spk of
I felt a tiny smile pulling at my mouth as my thumbs typed.
Don't worry about it. Tis beyond your mortal ken.
"I just hope no one's drinking tonight," Riku snerked as I watched those three dots bounce at the bottom of my screen. "Don't need you dancing on any more tables, thank you very much."
"Your face dances on tables!" Rayne shot back, sticking her tongue out at him.
"That doesn't even make any sense."
"You don't even make any sense!"
Rude. Ill have u know I had half a mind 2 drive ovr n get u NEway, logic b damned
My smile turned a touch wicked.
I'm impressed. That's half a mind more than you usually have.
"Here we are!"
My head shot up as I heard the engine shut down. I hadn't even realized we were in a parking lot. I hadn't even realized the vehicle had stopped moving.
As I looked out my window again, I heard Rayne saying, "Have I mentioned how happy I am we're doing this?"
"You may have said something about that once or twice." I could hear the smile in Riku's low voice.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her leaning over towards him, her hand coming up to run slender fingers through his long, ashen strands. "Yeah, but maybe I should show you."
"Maybe you should…"
And that's when I, being the absolute clueless, blissfully naive little fool that I was, chose to turn and fully look at them, just in time to get a front row seat to their little game of tonsil hockey. I blushed, threw up a hand to block my line of sight and made a tiny noise of disgust in my throat. "Ugh! You know you're not the only people in the car, right?"
Rayne pulled away to smirk back at me. "Well, other people can shoo," she flicked a dismissive hand in my direction before grabbing Riku by his collar and yanking him over for a deeper, more passionate kiss. Ding, ding, round two!
Squeaking, I fumbled with my seatbelt until I heard the click release, threw my car door open, stumbled out and slammed it shut behind me with a huff.
Oi, that was the main drawback to this group date plan. We were going to be around actual couples, and actual couples actually, ahem… snogged. Rayne and Riku were going to be bad enough, but let's not forget Sora and Kairi were along for the ride too and I'd seen firsthand how gross those two could be as well. Mark my word, this night was going to have more than its fair share of uncomfortable moments with those four around, being all besotted and smitten and other such rot. But I would survive this and make it through to the other side. Somehow.
Sweeping my braid forward over one shoulder, I glanced up at the building before me now. It bore a colorful banner over its entrance that read Fuente Del Oro. A local, family-owned Mexican restaurant, or so Rayne had told me. I could already tell this was going to be a very different experience from the types of restaurants my ex used to take me to for our dates. Those restaurants had all been about the look, the prestige… you didn't go to any of those places for the food, you went there to be seen, to give off an air of importance. Those places were… dull. Lifeless. This place before me now, on the other hand, was… nice. Colorful. Vibrant and full of character. Not elegant or frilly, but warm and inviting. And the aromas that I could smell coming from it, even all the way out here? Delicious.
I was actually kind of looking forward to this.
Phone still in my grasp, I looked back down at it and frowned.
No message back from Lea yet.
A giggle suddenly echoed out across the parking lot and my eyes snapped towards the source. It didn't take long to spot Kairi a few vehicles over, squirming and laughing in Sora's arms as he hugged her from behind, blowing raspberries against her neck. They were standing with a very familiar redhead who was leaning against a very familiar black muscle car. Said redhead had pulled his hair back into a ponytail again and was dressed in a snug, black tee with a second shirt on underneath, red and black horizontal stripes running down its full-length sleeves. His slim, dark jeans made his already long legs seem even longer and he was sporting his bright red Converse. He had his phone in hand in front of him, but it wasn't the phone he was looking at. Our eyes met and a grin tugged at one corner of his lips.
Suddenly, whatever boldness that I had felt behind the safety of text on the tiny, glowing screen in the palm of my hand had abandoned me and I felt a small pang of anxiety pierce my chest.
But I rallied.
Alright, Elsa, pep talk time. You can do this. You've been mentally and emotionally preparing for this since yesterday. Let him throw at you whatever fluffy, sappy moves he decides to today, all in the name of pretending to be your boyfriend. You can take it.
Shields raised and at full power, captain!
Inhaling and exhaling slowly, I pocketed my mobile and started making my way over to those three. Probably hearing my footsteps against the asphalt, Kairi and Sora looked over at me as I approached and greeted me with waves. I gave them a shy smile and returned the wave as Lea held his phone up, turning the screen towards me and showing the last message I'd sent him as he tsked, "Brutal. You wound me, madame."
I stopped a few feet away from him, my smile twitching wider. "You like it."
"True. What can I say, I've always been a bit of a masochist," he hummed a low chuckle, slipping his phone into the back pocket of his pants. His head tipped to one side and he stared at me for another second, then his eyes crinkled as he stretched a hand out towards me with a soft, "C'mere."
I bit my bottom lip, hesitating for a heartbeat before moving another step forward to take his offered hand.
"Lookit you," he whistled, closing his fingers around mine and leading me into a little twirl. "Digging the look." He then gently pulled me against him, drawing my arms up to hug his neck before slipping his hands beneath the jacket to wrap around my waist, enveloping me in his cinnamon scent. "Didn't get a chance to say it the other day, but my jacket suits you."
I rolled my eyes up at him, doing my best to be impervious to our sudden closeness. I wasn't succeeding. "Not really. It's too big."
"Yes really," he insisted, bowing his head slightly towards mine. "It looks way better on you than it ever did on me."
"Where's Riku and Rayne?" Sora interjected and I turned my head to look at him.
"They-" my words tripped over my tongue as Lea pressed a tender kiss to my temple.
Critical hit, captain! Shields down to thirty percent, but holding!
Ignoring the heat rushing to my face, I did my best to regather my scattered thoughts. "They, uh… they're back in the, uh… the…" Drat, what was the word again? "...car! They're back in the… the car."
Sora pulled a face. "Swapping spit, no doubt."
"Oh-ho, we'll see about that! C'mon, Sora!" Kairi cackled with an evil gleam in her eye, slipping free of her boyfriend's hold to instead grab his hand and pull him behind her as she ran off towards Riku's car.
"Seriously," Lea spoke up again, his voice hushed as I slowly returned my gaze to his. "Pretty sure I've lost all claim to that jacket. It belongs to you now."
My eyelids drooped. "That's not how that works."
"Sure it is." He rested his forehead against mine and I could feel his thumb rubbing light circles against the fabric of my dress just above my hip. "You don't choose a leather jacket, it chooses you. And trust me, that one has definitely picked you over me."
I gave a soft snort. "I'm giving it back to you after tonight."
"Don't you dare," he chided, his breath warming my lips. "You'll hurt the jacket's feelings."
"Stop anthropomorphizing the jacket." I was fighting a smile now.
"Make me," he murmured, something in his voice causing my insides to do that whole warm, fuzzy, squishy thing.
And the academy award for best leading actor in the role of Elsa's boyfriend goes to this guy right here.
But had to say, I thought he might be overdoing it a bit. I mean, Sora and Kairi weren't even around anymore to hear any of this. And if we were being monitored by someone under my great uncle's payroll, they certainly couldn't hear it either. I suppose Lea just… really liked getting into character?
Clearing my throat, I unclasped my hands from behind his neck and shifted them down to his chest in an attempt to push myself free of his grasp as I whispered, "We, ah… should probably go speak to the hostess now."
However, his hold on me didn't loosen, his arms remaining firmly secured around my waist. He didn't say anything, just continued to grin down at me. His eyes became hooded as they flicked down to my lips now, making my heart skip a beat.
What was he-?
A sudden loud yelp ruptured the air around us.
Rayne.
Followed by an annoyed yell of, "Goddamnit, Sora! Kairi!"
And that would be Riku.
The two delinquents in question blurred past us and towards the restaurant's front doors, whooping and snickering and razzing their tongues back at their victims climbing out of the Ford Focus. "We'll grab us a table!" Sora called quickly at the same time Kairi shouted, "See ya inside!" Then they both disappeared through the entrance with Rayne and Riku hot on their heels.
I heard Lea sigh. Or maybe he didn't. It was so soft that it was fully possible that I imagined it. Then he released me, slipping one hand into mine and jerking a thumb towards the restaurant with a lopsided smile, "Shall we?"
I stared at him, feeling the night air cool my warmed face. Then I gave a tentative nod and let him lead me inside.
The others hadn't made it far past the doors and we stepped in to find Riku doling out Sora's punishment: death by a thousand noogies. Sora was smacking his cousin's arm and trying to wriggle free, but to no avail. Apparently Kairi had gotten off with only a warning for she was standing off to one side with Rayne, both cracking up as they watched the boys. I looked past them, taking in the restaurant. Strings of fairy lights hung from the ceiling intermixed with strings of multi-colored papers, each bearing cutouts depicting various imagery. The walls were painted with murals of fantastical, mythical creatures of various shapes and sizes with wings and prismatic fur, feathers and scales. This place was absolutely beautiful.
Once the roughhousing had finally settled down, we all approached the hostess, an extremely tiny, extremely old lady wearing a name tag that read Coco who seemed far more interested in napping than greeting new customers. However, she woke up long enough to squint at her list and find our reservation before calling over a man to seat us. He led us through the restaurant and to a large booth in one of the back corners, leaving menus, chips and salsa on the table before flashing us a warm, genuine smile and saying he'd be back to take our orders in a minute.
I started shrugging out of the jacket, feeling Lea assist me before folding it over his arm and gesturing towards the booth with bow and a, "Lady's first." Smiling at him, I took a seat and scooched towards the middle. Lea wasn't too far behind, sitting close enough for our knees to bump against one another. He tossed the jacket on the back shelf of the booth before draping his arm across the top of the cushioned seat behind my head. Rayne took the spot to my left with Riku of course beside her, and on the other side of Lea sat Kairi and Sora. The waiter came back after giving us a little time to peruse the menus and he gathered our food requests before dashing off again.
"So Ray," Kairi piped up, popping a heavily salsa-laden chip into her mouth, "how's the preggers-life treating you?"
"Really well," she nodded contentedly, one hand going to her tummy. "The jellybean's happy and healthy so far and I've just started barely showing in the past couple weeks. No weird food cravings yet, thank god, but those are supposed to be right around the corner."
Sora leaned forward, propping his chin in both hands and beamed, "Do we know yet if I have a lil nephew or niece on the way?"
"We're cousins, Sora. Nephews and nieces would only be if we were brothers," Riku corrected with a wry curve to his lips.
"We don't know yet," Rayne shook her head, "but I'm about four months along now, so hoping to find out at our next appointment."
Lea had shifted his hand to dangle down so he could idly twiddle my braid between his fingers. I could also sense his gaze on me, causing a bit of a flutter in the pit of my stomach. Reminding myself he was just playing a part and it wasn't real, I resisted the urge to squirm and instead pretended not to notice, directing all my focus into reaching for a chip to dip into the salsa.
"Well whatever the wee monkey turns out to be, you can bet Auntie Kairi and Unkie Sora will be here to shower it with all the love and kisses!" Kairi cooed.
Riku twitched and frowned. "I just said that isn't how it-"
"Shush, hon, they're just teasing you now," Rayne poked his cheek with a laugh before looking back over at Kairi. "And you? How's the new gig over at Mickey's going? You've been there, what? About a week now?"
"Mm-hm! It's been a lot of fun working the jewelry counter. Oh sure, there's the occasional asshole customer, but turns out I'm really good at killing them with kindness."
Riku kicked Sora's foot under the table, "What about you, ya freeloader? Any prospects yet?"
He shrugged with that big smile he seemed to always have permanently glued to his face. Just looking at it was starting to make my cheeks hurt. "Couple of interviews coming up, so we'll see!"
Smirking, Riku said, "Can't wait to hear how you screw them up this time, knucklehead."
"Hey!"
Kairi turned to look our direction now. "So what's new and exciting with you two, hm? Lea, you just had that big test, right?" Silence was her answer as I went for another chip. "Lea? Hello, earth to... ah-ha, there!" She rocketed up to her feet, slamming one hand down on the table and pointing the other right in Lea's face. "Lost puppy look!"
"Hm, what now?" he jolted, his hand jerking away from my braid to lay across the booth backrest once more. "Lost pup-? Bah, I told you already, there's no lost puppy look. You need to get your eyes checked, princess."
She scoffed, plopping heavily back down into her seat and smugly take a sip of her soda. "Please. You were bad at hiding it when you guys were dating in secret, and you're even worse at it now that it's all out in the open."
"What's the deal there anyhow?" Sora cocked his head at me. "There's all sorts of wild rumors flying around the mall, like that you're runaway royalty from some far off country just living off the lam now."
"What?!" I blanched, gawking in disbelief. Doing my best to recover with a tiny, awkward laugh, I hastily said, "No, nothing quite so, ah… dramatic. My parents, they're… well off, to be sure, but certainly not royalty. And not from so far away either. Just Arendelle, which is only about an hour north of here."
Chewing on her straw, Kairi eagerly leaned in closer, "I'd love to hear the story of how you two met!"
I stiffened.
Fudge.
Welp, add that to my ever growing list of things I should have thought about in advance but failed miserably to do so. I fiddled a chip between my fingers as I tucked in my bottom lip. Shoot, what was I supposed to tell her? It's not like I'd gotten any better at lying in the past few days since my visit with Father. In fact, I'd been mostly skirting by since then by dodging questions and letting people fill in the blanks for themselves so I didn't have to. Heart thudding in my chest, I opened my mouth, not quite fully sure yet what was going to come out.
"Last summer," Lea was quicker. "In another city."
"Oh, during that big cross-country road trip you took?" Rayne asked him as she leaned into her husband who slung an arm around her shoulders.
Lea tapped his own nose, "That'd be the one, Raindrop."
Kairi gasped, "You two met in a foreign city? How romantic! That's the dream!"
"You have to leave the country in order for it to be a foreign city," Riku shook his head.
"Cram it, you knew what I meant!"
"It was like one of those scenes straight outta a movie," Lea planted an elbow on the table, rubbing a curled finger over his smirk as he watched me out of the corner of his eye. "There I was, just strolling along minding my own business, smack dab in the middle of a jam-packed city street. But then the crowd parted and there she stood. The most gorgeous creature to ever walk the face of this or any other planet in all the cosmos."
Cue my face turning all new shades of red never before witnessed in the history of human eyesight.
Jeez, laying it on a bit thick there, Lea, don't you think?
"So whatdja do?" Kairi pressed, eyes bright and on the edge of her seat. "Sweep her off her feet right then and there?"
He snerked, "Shit no, I walked headfirst into a lamppost."
I smothered a grin behind my hand as the rest of the table erupted into laughter. Sora reached over to punch him lightly in the arm, "Smooth, ya stud. What city was this anyway?"
"Corona," I was the one to answer, surprising myself. Suddenly self-conscious with all eyes turning to me, I quietly added, "I was there for part of my vacation last year."
"By yourself?" Rayne quirked a dubious eyebrow at me. She knew this story was as made-up as my current relationship status was. I could only assume she was trying to poke holes in order to help us solidify this little tale that was being spun so we'd be more prepared for the next time we had to tell the lie.
The thing is, the best lies have a grain of truth to them. I really had been in Corona last summer. "No, I was taking the trip with Anna. We were actually staying over in Traverse Town, but had planned to visit Corona for the day to enjoy a festival there, since it was only a short train ride away. However, Anna disappeared with a guy before we could go. I'd really been looking forward to this festival though and didn't want to miss it, so I took the train over on my own."
"Wait," Kairi slapped both hands down in front of her, eyes widening. "Are you talking about that big lantern festival they do every year?" At my nod, she squealed. "Lucky! Punzie has shown me pictures in magazines, it looks so goddamn pretty! Oh man, I've always wanted to go! Hint, hint," she shouldered Sora, who just chuckled and scratched the back of his head.
"It was actually right as they were launching the lanterns that I saw her," Lea said, folding his arms atop the table now. "She was wearing this cute sundress. White with a lil diamond patterned hem. Split sleeves that were all flowy. Hair down and dancing in the slight breeze." Wow, he was really selling this. He'd even nailed that whole far away look in his eye, like he was seeing something the rest of us couldn't. "And the way those lanterns lit up her smile as she watched them float up, I knew my lowly mortal self was in the presence of a goddess. Knocked the wind right outta me."
"As did that lamppost," Rayne sniggered.
"As did that lamppost," he agreed with a chuckle.
Totally enthralled now, Kairi breathed, "So what happened next?"
"Yeah, what did happen next?" I grinned over at him, the barest note of a challenge to my tone. To the others, it probably just sounded like I was teasing him since obviously I was already supposed to know this story. But now I was almost as invested as Kairi and was genuinely curious where he'd go with it next.
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he looked over at me and he leaned back, propping his elbows up on the back rim of the booth and once more slipping an arm behind my head. "Well after the lantern bit was over, I watched her get onto her train heading back to Traverse Town. So I did what any self-respecting, red-blooded, utterly bewitched male would do: I followed her."
"Stalker," Riku singsonged.
His wife smacked his leg, "Hush, it's sweet!"
He snorted, eyelids drooping, "Yeah, so sweet, the dumbass left his car behind in Corona."
"Psssh, I just took the train back for it later," Lea brushed off. "Anyway, when I found her on board, I sat across from her and worked up the nerve to strike up a conversation."
Rayne looked at me. "You? Talk to a handsome stranger on a train?" She squinted, repeating for emphasis, "You?"
"Heh… what can I say? He can be very charming," I smiled down at my drink, swirling the ice with my straw.
"Even with all of my roguish charm and devilish good looks though, it wasn't easy," Lea laughed. His hand had drifted down to start toying with my braid again. "But she warmed up to me eventually. By the time we arrived at Traverse Town, I was completely smitten. A total goner. She still needed more convincing though, so I managed to persuade her into joining me for a night out on the town. Luckily for me, Traverse Town has a very active night life that goes on for hours long after most other cities have gone to sleep."
"Yeah? Like what?" Sora burbled out around a mouth full of chips, making Kairi giggle as she put a hand over his face to hide it.
He pursed his lips to one side, looking up at the ceiling, "Oh, nothing too exciting. Few odds and ends here and there though… wandering around a record store… a café with a palm reader… a street poet at one sidewalk corner, a belly dancer at another, some stargazing in a park…" Now he smirked over at me, "A carnival with a kiss at the top of the ferris wheel."
A mock gasp from Rayne, "Scandal! And you with a fiancé, young lady!"
I looked away, suddenly feeling guilty and flustered over something that hadn't even really happened. "...ferris wheels can be very enchanting."
And my streak of helping the lie along while not actually lying myself successfully continues!
"And then, and then?" Kairi insisted impatiently, just eating this whole bit of fiction right up.
He chuckled and shrugged, "Just mostly a lot of meandering the streets and talking. We were out all night and watched the sunrise together. Eventually, she had to go meet up with her sister so they could move on to another city for the next leg of their lil vay-kay. But I didn't let her leave without agreeing to meet with me again in a few months."
Kairi was slackjaw now as she whispered, "And did she?"
"Mm-hm!" he hummed happily. "And from there, we kept meeting up, our little get-togethers getting longer and more frequent over time."
"Then what?" She was relentless.
A wolfish curl tugged at one side of his mouth. "What else? I slowly seduced her until she fell helpless into my bed, hungry for the pleasure only I could give her," he waggled his eyebrows.
Of course I'd chosen that exact second to be taking a sip of my drink. And of course I promptly spluttered and choked on it. "Excuse me?" I coughed, laughing incredulously as I elbowed him in the gut.
He gave a pained grunt, but grinned and snagged my hand before I could retract it, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. "I mean that in the most gentlemanly and respectful way possible, of course," he winked at me before looking back over at Kairi. "From there, I convinced her to run away from her family and ditch her two-bit, loser fiancé to be with me. And the rest, as they say, is history!"
"Wow!" she sighed dreamily, slumping back and fanning herself. Then she blinked, "Wait…" A gasp. "Oh my god! You swore off dating about a year ago, which was last summer! Was it cuz that's when you two met and it was love at first sight?!"
"Huh. The two certainly seem to line up perfectly, don't they?" he chirped. He'd rested my hand back down onto the table, his on top of mine, threading our fingers together.
Our waiter popped up again just then. "Your food will be just another moment. In the meantime, please allow us to entertain you with some music." He then turned, clapped his hands twice and called out, "Miguel!"
Out charged a boy in his early teens wearing a red hoodie and lugging a guitar that was white, etched in swirly patterns, and nearly as big as he was. He flashed us a smile huge enough to rival one of Sora's and without further preamble, started strumming away and singing. The kid was actually really good too!
Kairi clapped in delight and Rayne cooed over how adorable he was. Sora gaped in awe at the boy's obvious talent while Riku just grinned, digging into the chips. As I watched him perform, I couldn't help but feel Lea's eyes on me once more instead of on our little musician. I shifted in my seat, slipping my hand free of his and bringing it up to tuck some bangs behind my ear, hiding the growing warmth I felt in my cheeks behind my fingers.
At this rate, I didn't know how I was going to survive fake dating this guy for the rest of the evening, let alone for two more weeks.
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"Where do you think you're going?"
Lea's hand closed around mine, stopping me in my tracks. I glanced over my shoulder at him, then back towards where Rayne and Riku were climbing into their car across the parking lot. "With them?"
"Ahhhnt," he made a buzzer noise, grinning. "Wrong! Would the contestant care to venture another guess?"
I gave him some side-eye, feeling one corner of my lips turn up. "...with you?"
"Bingo!" He started walking towards his car, gently tugging me along with him. "I was already so rudely denied my god-given right as the boyfriend to pick you up from your place. No way am I missing out on giving you a lift over to the movie theater. Same goes for driving you back home later tonight, so better make your peace with it now. It's happening."
I felt my smile twitch a fraction wider as I fell into step beside him. "I suppose being my chauffeur is quite the honor and privilege. Wouldn't want to take that away from you."
"Glad that's settled then," he gave a chipper nod, unlocking the front passenger door of his vehicle and holding it open for me as I got in. As he then jogged over to the driver's side while I buckled in, there was a loud meep meep of a car horn and I looked up just as a hot pink Jeep blurred past where we were parked - Kairi and Sora, it seemed, going on to the cinema ahead of us. I waved at them just as Lea had settled in himself and started the engine.
"So," I began once we were on the road, resting my temple against my knuckles with my elbow propped on the window sill, still grinning as I watched him out of the corner of my eye, "you took a road trip last summer?"
He gave a low hum of confirmation, reaching over to turn down the volume on the rock oldies station coming through the radio. "Decided to have one last big adventure before I really buckled down and started taking school seriously. Did a lil soul searching, that whole shtick."
"Ah." My gaze focused on the road ahead once more and I hesitated for a second, gnawing on my lower lip. "...that was a nice story you told. About how we met."
Lea chuckled, leaving one hand on the wheel while moving the other to lay atop the headrest of my seat. "Liked it, didja?"
"Oh definitely." Now I hid my growing smile behind my hand, trying to keep a straight face. "Though I have to admit, I think I was a bigger fan of the original movie adaptation."
I watched him visibly stiffen. "The…?"
Tapping a curled finger to my chin, I muttered, "What was the title again? Before Sunrise, I believe?"
He snerked, then broke out into a full laugh. "Crap, ya caught me. Yeah, I may have borrowed from the plot there a tad."
"Just a bit," I shook my head at him. "You're lucky Sora and Kairi haven't seen the film."
"Kinda surprised you have," he turned the car down a road that would take us towards the mall. "Pretty sure it's older than you are."
"Nothing wrong with old movies," I shrugged before wrinkling my nose at him slightly with a tiny smile. "Kind of sappy though. Wouldn't have thought that'd be your kind of movie."
Looking my way, he smirked, "What can I say? I'm a sappy guy. And hey, at least I didn't steal everything from that flick."
"True. The stuff before the train was all you."
"You helped," Lea pointed out as he pulled up to a stop sign. He then tapped his index against the steering wheel a couple times. "...outta curiosity, why'd you say Corona? Out of all the other places you must of visited on your trip, what made you pick that city?"
As the car accelerated once more, I tilted my head in thought. "Don't know really… I guess I just felt it would be a nice place to meet someone new in. That'd it make for a good story." I paused, watching some tail lights streak past us. "...the lantern festival really was beautiful. Have you ever seen it?"
Lea shook his head as he glanced up at the rearview before shifting lanes, "Nah. Had plans to on the road trip, but something else came up."
"A shame," I sighed wistfully. "You missed out."
"Wouldn't say that," he murmured, a warm flicker in his eyes. "'Sides, there's always next time."
"Suppose that's true," I nodded. "Nice touch, by the way, describing the dress I was wearing. I think I might even own one that's pretty close to it." Don't think I'd been wearing it in Corona though. But I couldn't really remember. It had been over a year ago after all.
He laughed again, fingers combing his scalp before returning the hand to my seat, now on a spot next to my ear. "Well, I did help you pack your clothes from your old condo just a couple days ago. I probably saw it then."
"Good point." That made sense. It would have been too much of a coincidence if that'd actually been what I'd had on that day. But now… should I be worried that I hadn't really been in that dress? What if someone found out the mismatch in the story? No… no, that was just me overthinking things again. Even if the tale ever reached the ears of the Duke's goon, it's not like they could go back in time to fact check. "Just one more thing now." My eyes narrowed at him, at odds with my grin. "Might want to edit the ending a bit."
"Which part?" he asked a touch too innocently, already turning us into the Dusk Town Center parking lot. "Running away to be with me? Hasn't that been the story all along?"
I rolled my eyes at him. "Try a little before that."
Wouldn't have thought it possible to both purse one's lips and smile at the same time, but Lea proved me wrong in that moment. "Hmm… oh! Well, figured wooing you over the course of months sounded more believable, but if you think it works better as weeks or even days, then-"
"No no. Little after that."
"Well then, now you got me stumped cuz I know you just couldn't possibly be talking about the absolute masterpiece that was the slow seducing, helpless bed falling, pleasure hungry part."
A snort. "Why yes, actually, I could be talking about that and in fact am."
"But that's the best part!" he protested, turning to park in a space right next to a familiar Ford Focus. "It's the heart and soul, the very essence of the story! The pièce de résistance, the crowning glory."
With a good natured scoff, I unfastened my seatbelt as the car shuddered into powering down. "Well decrown it because you're dropping that bit."
He lifted his chin slightly and gave a dignified sniff, "I am a storyteller, El. An arteest. You wouldn't ask Leonardo da Vinci to remove the smile from the Mona Lisa."
Well someone had a high opinion of himself. Which honestly came as zero surprise. I fixed him with a dull stare. "Drop it or your jacket gets a giant, sticky stain before the night is out." And with that, I opened my door.
Lea scrambled out of the car and rushed over to join me on my side just as I slammed the door shut behind me. He had the decency to only spend a couple seconds looking mildly miffed at having been denied the opportunity to open and hold the car door for me before his frown melted into a smile once more. "Jeez, blackmail? Never thought you'd stoop so low. But eh," he shrugged, "jacket's black, it'll be fine."
"You're failing to see the big picture here," I crossed my arms as I waited for Rayne and Riku to get out of their own vehicle. My guess was they were probably going for another round of Seven Minutes in Heaven in there. Smirking at Lea, I elaborated, "Because then I'll wash it."
"Egads," he mocked gasp, splaying a hand against his chest, "the horror."
My smirk curled wickedly. "In a washing machine."
As my roomies finally vacated their car (faces flushed, I might add), Lea actually paled. "But it's dry clean only!"
"That's right," I said smugly and turned to walk away. "So nix that line or the jacket gets it."
"You fight dirty," he muttered as he caught up to me, slipping his hand into mine. However, he was grinning.
Huh. That wasn't what I'd been expecting. IE the face of a man who'd just suffered a crippling defeat by my hands.
I narrowed my eyes up at him. "You certainly seem pretty happy about the impending, inevitable demise of your jacket."
Now the grin was joined by a dimple as we walked. "Well, it's just that in order for you to make good on your threat, you have to take my jacket hostage. Meaning you're gonna hafta keep it after all." His head dipped down closer to mine as he swung our hands slightly. "I count that as a win for me."
...well crud.
Score one for Lea there.
Shrieks and giggles suddenly erupted behind us before Sora tore past us towards the mall's entrance with Kairi riding piggyback. Rayne laughed and tugged Riku into a stumble behind her so they could catch up while Lea and I continued to take our time, bringing up the rear.
We made our way through the food court and over to Cinema XIII. The manager with long, silver hair that I'd seen there last time was present again, off to one side where he was setting up a huge cardboard display for the latest Star Wars movie. I watched him scowl and fiddle with the lifesize lightsaber cutouts as our group purchased tickets from a blonde chick with a weird hairdo that kind of resembled antennae. As we'd approached, I could have sworn I'd seen her boredly cleaning her fingernails with a small knife, but there was no sign of the blade by the time we'd reached her register. Perhaps my eyes had just been playing tricks on me.
Tickets for our whodunit comedy flick in hand, we then moved over to concessions which was being worked by that same teen with the emo haircut that I'd also spotted here a couple weeks ago. He hardly glanced up from the book he was reading as Riku and Rayne ordered snacks and drinks from him, Sora waiting in line behind them with Kairi still latched onto his back.
"Alright, whatcha want? My treat," Lea asked as he watched the flat screens hanging behind the counter scroll flashy ads for crisp, buttery popcorn and fizzing, bubbly soda.
I blinked. "What?" Then I frowned at him. "Oh no, not happening. You already paid for dinner despite my multiple protests. I'm not letting you buy me candy too."
We were only fake dating after all, and I wouldn't even want to make a real boyfriend pay for everything!
"But it's my right as-"
I put my finger to his lips, silencing him as my eyelids drooped. "Enough with playing the boyfriend card already. You're having too much fun with that."
He puckered up and planted a tiny peck on my fingertip, sending a small jolt straight to my heart as I quickly jerked my hand back. He chuckled, "Just tell me what your fave candy is."
"Shouldn't you be able to guess?" I arched an eyebrow, stubbornly ignoring the way the tip of my finger still had a slight tingle. "Isn't that like your special gift or whatever?"
"Only with ice cream," he lightly corrected.
"Right," I crinkled my eyes at him. "How's that coming along again?"
His shoulders bobbed up and down. "It's a process."
"My turn!" Sora suddenly proclaimed loudly in front of us, dropping Kairi off his back and spinning around to get behind her.
His girlfriend gasped, "Sora no!"
"Sora yes!" he cackled, jumping onto her back, arms hugging her shoulders tight and legs wrapping around her waist as her hands automatically shifted to grasp beneath his knees. To her credit, she managed to stand for three whole shaky seconds before collapsing beneath her boyfriend's weight into a tangled heap on the floor with him.
Ah, to be young.
Never mind the fact that I was pretty sure I was only like a year older than them.
With a soft snort through my nose, I glanced back at Lea. "Well, while you keep processing, I'm going to go find our seats."
I turned to go, but he pulled me back with the hold he still had on my hand. "C'mon, just lemme buy ya something small," he insisted as he hopped over the Sora/Kairi knot that was still trying to disentangle itself, forcing me to gingerly step over the two of them as well.
Shaking my head with a sigh, I said, "Why won't you just let it go?"
He beamed. "Cuz what schmoopsie-poo wants, schmoopsie-poo gets."
Oh no he didn't.
"Uh-uh, no. Veto. You are not calling me that," I jabbed a finger into his chest.
There was a sly gleam to his eye. "Tell me what candy you want or I won't stop."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Wanna bet?" he flashed a toothy grin as we stepped up to the counter now that my roommates had stepped off to one side, already munching away at their newly purchased sweets. "You'll think you died and went to schmoopsie-poo heaven."
I gave a small huff and looked away. "Small price to pay. Not budging on this."
"Fine. You've forced my hand." He turned his head to the concession worker, slapping his palm down on the countertop and proudly declaring, "I'll have one of everything, my good man!"
"What?! No, no, stop, he's joking," I hastily told the cashier, who froze mid-ringing the order up as he gave us a flat look with the one blue eye not hidden behind bangs. To Lea, I whispered, "What do you think you're doing?"
He shrugged, grin not faltering. "Figure ya gotta like at least one of 'em."
I stared at him. Then my shoulders slumped and I hung my head, grumbling, "...Junior Mints."
"You heard the lady," he chirped to the theatre employee. "And throw in a small popcorn and large Kupo-Kola too please!"
Once the junk food was acquired and paid for, we moved out of the way to join Riku and Rayne as Sora and Kairi bought their own goodies. While we were waiting, I opened up my candy and reached inside, retrieving a minty, chocolate-coated treat and popping it into my mouth.
"Can I have one?" Lea asked beside me.
I gave him a blank look. Then I glanced down at his hands, otherwise occupied with a full soda cup and a bag practically bursting with popcorn. Digging another Junior Mint out and holding it up between us, my gaze met his once more. "Say ahh."
Face brightening, his lips parted wide.
I inserted it into his nostril.
He blinked a couple times, then snorted which had the byproduct of dislodging the Junior Mint. "Okay, guess maybe I deserved that for being a lil pushy about getting you the candy."
"You most certainly did," I said matter-of-factly, eating another one. A pause while I slowly chewed before swallowing and mumbling, "...but thanks for doing it anyway."
"Heh. Don't mention it."
Kairi and Sora rejoined us then, arms piled high with sugary delights. Jeez, all that on top of the gigantic Mexican dinners they'd both devoured less than an hour ago? One had to wonder how the two of them managed to stay so skinny.
It didn't take long for us to locate our theater and when we entered, all the lights were dimmed for the trailers that had already started to play. We quietly found our seats close to the middle of the auditorium and we settled into them, Lea to the right of me and making up one end of our group while Rayne took up my other side, the rest of the gang to her right. It seemed the cinema had recently renovated with new, barely-used cushiony sofa seating, the kind that reclined.
As I pushed the button that popped out the chair's footrest and made myself more comfortable, I caught a glimpse of the others. Half way through a strand of red licorice, Rayne flinched when Riku was suddenly in her face and chomping down on the other end of the candy. Grinning, he took a few more bites, bringing their lips closer together until he could give her a smooch before pulling away, looking quite pleased with himself as she blushed and snerked, giving his shoulder a light shove. Kairi was tossing Milk Duds towards Sora's open, awaiting mouth and rewarding him with little kisses every time he successfully caught one.
Worrying my lower lip between my teeth, I glanced towards Lea out of the corner of my eye as he crunched away on some popcorn. Should we be acting all… couply right now? Like the others were? I mean, it was a dark theater… did we really need to keep the act up in here too? Would anyone really notice? Then again, I'd noticed our friends being all sickeningly cute and I hadn't even been trying to, my eyes had just wandered. So maybe it wasn't such a stretch to consider the two of us were also possibly being observed, even in here.
My gaze flicked down to the armrest I shared with Lea. It was wide enough for both our arms to lay on it side by side, elbows touching. He wasn't holding my hand at the moment, instead just resting his about an inch away from mine. Which, now that I noticed, actually felt a bit weird, oddly enough. I guess I was starting to get used to it. But perhaps I should look at this as an opportunity for some more practice. An exercise in me being the one for once to initiate a display of affection. I seriously couldn't get away with him being the one to start it all the time, right? Surely, I had to act like I liked him too.
Which, to be fair, I kind of did.
Even if it was a secret.
But now I had to wonder how does one go about, ah… what was the term? ...making a move? I'd never had to do it with my ex. I'd never particularly felt the urge, nor had he ever really encouraged me to have more initiative in that area. He'd always been the one to take charge and that seemed to be the way he'd liked it. It seemed to be what was expected of our relationship, by him, by my family, by the world of upper society that I had lived in for so long. But I was no longer in that world. Things were different here. I was different. And I needed to show that to my parents. And one way I could show that was by doing this.
So then… exactly how do I do this?
...well I suppose I could start by moving my hand in the general direction of his. Seemed simple enough… right?
Gulping and holding my breath, I slowly, oh so very slowly started reaching for his hand. As my fingers crept closer, the pounding in my ribcage grew louder and louder. A hairbreadth away from skin contact, I hesitated, what little courage I'd mustered already dwindling. But after a second, my face hardened. I needed to do this. For the sake of Operation Boyfriend But Shh Not Really. For the sake of a continued future free from my parents' control. With a newfound resolve burning in my chest, I pushed on.
My pinky barely brushed against his knuckle.
Nope! No way. Mm-mm, not happening!
I snatched my hand back, blushing furiously.
The blush of a failure. Pathetic.
However the touch, no matter how light and brief, hadn't gone unnoticed. Lea glanced my way, his head tipping slightly. Then he smiled, shifting his popcorn out of his lap over to his right while moving the soda from the cupholder between us to the one on his other side. Then he lifted the armrest separating us, folding it back between our chairs before slinging an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close so my head was pillowed by his chest.
I tensed for several seconds before relaxing against him, clearing my throat and, if possible, blushing even harder.
Well then.
Guess I no longer needed to worry about us not looking couply.
Even if I hadn't been the one to initiate.
...tomorrow. I would do a better job tomorrow.
As the last of the trailers ended and opening credits for the movie began filling the big screen, Lea ducked his head down next to mine. I could feel him grinning against my ear as he whispered, "This boyfriend model comes equipped with all the latest technology, including hilarious movie commentary. Would you like that feature enabled now?"
I leaned my head back a bit as I turned to look him in the eye. He cocked a playful eyebrow at me. Feeling one corner of my lips tug up, I whispered back, "Commentary on."
"You got it."
I was not disappointed.
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"Is this really totally necessary?"
"Oh absolutely. Your uncle's spies could be anywhere, ever vigilant and watching at all times."
"Even here? In the parking lot for my own apartment?" I frowned dubiously.
I could feel him nodding against my hair. "Especially here. I'll have you know I've seen at least three cars pass us already, each one more suspicious and shady than the last."
Date night had been a rousing success, if I did say so myself. We'd had a good time with friends, dinner was amazing and delicious, and the movie had been excellent. But as everyone knows, all good dates (even the fake ones) must come to an end. And at the end of every date, some sort of goodnight ritual is often at the very least customary, if not absolutely essential. Traditionally, this usually takes the form of the infamous goodnight kiss. However, since I'd already taken any sort of liplock completely and one hundred percent off the table, Lea had instead opted for a hug.
One… extremely and uncomfortably long hug.
...okay, that was a lie. It wasn't uncomfortable at all. In fact, was actually quite nice. Pleasant, even. Ten out of ten, would recommend.
We stood next to his car at the moment, my apartment building just a few yards away. After he'd parked and we'd both climbed out, he'd pulled my arms up to wrap around his neck, his hands once again finding their way under the leather jacket to encircle my waist, hugging me close as he'd rested his cheek atop my head. And so we had remained for quite some time now.
Kairi and Sora were no longer with us, having parted ways back at the mall, but I could see Rayne and Riku off to one side near their own vehicle, enthusiastically taking part in some cuddle time themselves while they waited for me. Which actually I really appreciated. Without their added presence here, I'd probably be getting a lot more awkward a lot more quickly about The Hug That Would Not End.
That said…
"We've been at this for at least five minutes now. Wouldn't you call that a bit, er.." I shifted my feet, resisting the urge to squirm, "...excessive?"
His hold on me didn't budge. "Gotta be convincing. 'Sides, we're obviously still in the honeymoon period of our relationship. You know, when the couple takes forever and a day telling each other goodbye a thousand times before actually leaving. Otherwise known as the No-You-Hang-Up-First phase."
My brow furrowed. "I thought that was only made-up for TV. Real people don't actually do that, do they?"
"Yup," I felt another nod. "Trust me, I'm an expert. I know these things."
I squinted off into space. "...haven't you only ever done one night stands?"
"Shush, I said trust me on this," he murmured.
And shush I did. I suppose I could look at this as a sort of… endurance training? Get me more used to his hugs so I'd be less awkward about them in public? Make them seem more natural? Yeah, okay. This might be good for me. Let's see how long I could keep this up.
...answer? Not long.
Tentatively trying to pull away, I began, "Alright, maybe we should-"
"One more minute," he insisted, squeezing me tighter and shifting his head down now to instead nuzzle against my neck. His nose was cold and his breath tickled against my skin, making my cheeks warm. Welp, so much for not squirming.
Huh. He really seemed to be taking this whole pretend boyfriend thing very seriously. This was some extreme dedication to the role.
And there my insides went all over again, doing the whole warm, fuzzy, squishy thing. Alright, just breathe. Deep, calming breaths. Remember: Conceal, don't feel.
...maybe just focus on the concealing part. The not feeling part was already a lost cause.
"Ya know," Rayne's voice suddenly piped up nearby, causing me to jump, "maybe you two don't have to say goodnight just yet." Lea straightened up, loosening his grip on me just enough for us both to turn our heads to see she'd joined us. Gracing us with a sly smirk, she said, "I mean, if you want to really drive this date home for any eyes that might be prying, Lea could always, ya know..." her eyebrows bounced as she leaned in closer to whisper conspiratorially, "stay the night."
"What?!" My face erupted into blistering heat, the likes of which would've put the Sahara Desert to utter shame. "N...No! Absolutely not! How could you possibly even-"
She laughed, her finger booping my nose. "Relax, you silly goose. Of course he'd only sleep on the living room sofa! S'not like your grunkle's minion would have x-ray vision into our home."
Oh.
That's what she'd meant.
Well of course that's what she'd meant. It's not like she'd ever really suggest…
Actually, no, this was Rayne we were talking about here. I honestly wouldn't have put it past her.
She elbowed Lea in the arm, "So whaddya say, stud?"
He smiled, removing one hand from my waist to rub at the nape of his neck. "Well, I'd planned on getting some reading done for my classes tonight. But I do have my book bag in the backseat, so I suppose I could just as easily read here on your couch." His gaze shifted back down to mine, "That is of course, as long as you're okay with it!"
My face still recovering from its abrupt and devastating heatwave, I looked down and muttered, "Well, I… I suppose, ah… sure. Okay. I mean, just to keep up appearances… " My eyes flicked back up towards Rayne, "Thanks. I guess that's… actually a pretty good idea."
"Of course it is! I came up with it!" she beamed, planting her fists on her hips and puffing up her chest. Then she turned back to her husband, pressing her lips to his cheek as she linked her arm in his and led him over to the building entrance. Lea at last fully released me, but only long enough to unlock his car and pull out a messenger bag that looked heavy with textbooks. Kicking the door shut, he slung the strap of the bag over his head to hang across his chest before slipping an arm around my shoulders, grinning down at me as we followed the other two inside.
Once in our apartment, he removed the arm while Rayne pulled some spare pillows and bed sheets from the closet, tossing them onto the longest couch for Lea. Then grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, she unscrewed the cap and held her drink up high. "A toast! To Lea's sleepover! May it be the first of many!" she declared before tossing her head back to chug half the bottle.
Riku just snerked, shaking his head while Lea scratched his cheek with a weak chuckle and walked over to drop his bag on the sofa next to the blankets. I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my fingers between my eyebrows with a soft sigh. Still, she had a point. I suppose it was only natural for my "boyfriend" to stay the night with some amount of frequency. Oh gosh, I hope this wouldn't be too much of an imposition on Lea.
As Rayne recapped the water bottle and put it down on the kitchen table, Riku stepped up to her, taking both her hands in his and pressing their foreheads together. "Hon, why don't we head to bed early tonight?" he asked, tone low and eyes hooded.
"Mmm," she breathed him in, smiling up at him through lowered lashes and nodding, "sounds good." As he pulled her towards their bedroom, Rayne glanced back at us. "Good night, you two! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" she winked and waved before disappearing through the door, closing it behind her.
Silence followed. It felt strangely sudden and almost deafening.
I slowly turned to look at Lea.
He looked back, giving me a tiny smile.
That's when it struck me.
This was the first time in two full days I'd been alone with Lea. Like, really alone. Not in public, not where we had to put on the boyfriend-girlfriend act. Even when it'd just been the two of us in his car earlier tonight, even then we'd still had kind of been in the relative safety of pretend date mode. Besides, driving around in a car was completely different from being alone with him here, now, in my apartment late at night. Now that there was no more reason for all the hand holding, forehead kisses, and other little touches, things felt… well I wouldn't exactly say wrong per se, but more felt just kind of… off?
Panic was beginning to set in.
My mind was drawing a total blank.
I… didn't know how to be around him now. Not when we didn't have to fake a relationship anymore.
I'd forgotten how to act normal.
I think he could sense it too. The weirdness that had suddenly popped up out of nowhere. His eyebrows knit together, his gaze shifting about for a couple seconds. Then he opened his mouth to say something.
"Good night!" I loudly blurted out first.
Then I was in my bedroom so fast, you would have thought I'd spontaneously developed the power to teleport.
I slammed the door shut behind me, pressing my spine flat to it, eyes wide and taking shallow breaths through my nose. A few seconds passed where I just forced myself to inhale and exhale slowly a few times, trying to calm down. Then I winced, lightly banging the back of my head against the door.
Good job, Elsa. Way to make things mildly awkward. And for no real reason at all, you useless, hermitic dope!
With a small scowl, I shrugged out of the leather jacket and tossed it onto my bed. Then I unzipped my ankle boots, kicking them off and started pacing the length of my room back and forth, my hands twisting at my braid.
I couldn't just leave things like that. I had to talk to him. I had to toughen up and find an excuse to march my butt back out there. But what excuse?
My feet paused mid step as I glanced around my room for a minute before landing on one of my walls. Not just any wall. The one I shared with Riku's and Rayne's bedroom. Then I lightly tapped one fist into my palm. That's it! I quickly moved to my nightstand, opening the top drawer. Amongst its contents was a plastic baggie of earplugs. Digging out a pair and dropping the bag back into the drawer before closing it again, I then stepped over to my door. I took a second to take a deep breath and gather myself, standing up straighter and flicking my braid back behind me. Then with a firm, determined nod, I turned the knob and pulled, walking back out into the living room.
Lea was sitting on the couch that would be doubling for his bed tonight, arms splayed out wide to either side atop its backrest while he read the textbook that laid open in his lap. He'd pulled his hair out of its ponytail so his crimson locks were once again wild and free and he'd taken off his long-sleeved undershirt, now just wearing the tee.
Looking up at me, he all but leapt up to his feet. "El! Hi! I-" he grunted as the book he'd apparently forgotten was in his lap crashed down hard onto his foot.
I sucked in a tiny breath through my teeth with a frown, taking a step forward and reaching a hand out, "You okay?"
"Fine," he groaned. "I didn't need that toe anyway. It was only holding me back. Just dead weight." He laughed it off as he picked the textbook up off the floor, tossing it behind him onto the cushions before crossing his arms, "So, was there, ah… did you forget something?"
"Yes," I took a little step towards him, then frowned, glancing away. "Well, no…" I started to take a step back before catching myself. Wrong way, dork. "That is to say, sort of… er, I just...hm…" I thrust one fist forward, opening it palm facing up to reveal the earplugs, "Here!"
He stared down at them blankly. Then at me.
"Oh!" I gasped. "Right! Some sort of explanation would probably help." I gave a nervous heh. "So… uh… you know, those two," I gestured with my chin towards my roommates' bedroom door, "well, they just… the look they were giving each other before they went to bed, it's… well, it's a look I'm very familiar with from them. You know the look, the kind that should come with its own Marvin Gaye soundtrack. And those two… when they get going, they can really rattle the old headboard, if you know what I mean." A beat. Then I blanched. "Of course you know what I mean! Right, moving on. So uh… they are not quiet about it and they're definitely not quick. And these walls? They're thin. I'm talking like tissue paper thin. And not even the good Kleenex Deluxe kind of tissue, more like the cruddy, two-bit kind you'd get at the dollar store that just disintegrates if you even so much as breathe on it." Great, now I was just plain babbling. "These walls may as well not even be there for all the sound they block. Or rather, don't block. Then again, if they weren't there, then we'd not only hear but also see-" Wrap it up, girl, wrap it up. "A-Anyway! So just… just take these. You'll thank me later, believe me."
His eyes crinkled and he nodded, plucking them from my hand. "Alright, I'll take your word for it. Thanks."
Good. Okay. Yes, this was going well.
...huh. Though… slight hitch in the plan…
What now? I hadn't exactly thought this far ahead.
Maybe this was enough. I could now just make a graceful exit, leaving things in a better place than where I had previously. Yeah, that sounded good.
I gave him a tight-lipped grin, inching backwards as I pointed towards my room. "Okay then, I think I'll just…" But as I turned, my eyes landed on Rayne's and Riku's door again and I froze and grimaced. "Ah, shoot," I hissed under my breath.
"Problem?" I heard Lea ask behind me.
I shook my head, "I meant to ask Rayne to unzip my dress before she went to bed since the zipper is just where I can't reach and-" I blinked, then glanced over my shoulder at him sheepishly before fully turning to face him. "And why am I even telling you this? Forget I said anything. It's nothing, I'll figure it out."
"I can do it," he tossed the ear plugs onto the coffee table between us before stepping around it.
Waving my hands rapidly back and forth in front of me, I said, "No, it's fine. Really, you don't have to-"
"Don't be silly, just let me help you," he came to stop in front of me.
I tucked in my lower lip. Maybe I was just being silly about this. I mean, what was the big deal? Really? "...o-okay," I sighed, turning my back to him once more and sweeping my braid forward over one shoulder, running my hands down its length a few times. At least my old nemesis, The Blush, had the common courtesy to wait until I was no longer looking at Lea before creeping its way up into my cheeks.
I could sense him taking another step closer to me, could hear his gentle breathing as I felt his fingers undo the clasp at the top of the zipper. One of his fingertips incidentally grazed my skin and I couldn't stop a tiny shiver. Then there was a pause. Like… a long pause. I frowned straight ahead, uncertain. Nothing seemed to be happening. I turned my head slightly, stopping just short of actually being able to look back at him. "...everything okay?"
"Uh… yeah, the uh…" he cleared his throat, "...the stupid thing just got stuck for a sec there, but it's all good now." At last, the sound of the dress unzipping reached my ears. "There ya go, you're all set!"
My hand darted to clutch at the back of my dress, holding it together as I whipped around to face him. My blush? Only seemed to be growing in strength. I started backing away, "Th-thanks… for that. That was really… something. Nice! That was nice. Of you. To do that… for me. I-" I crashed into my door frame and stumbled. "Oops. Heh. Who put that there? Um… anyway…"
And on that eloquent and fully formed note, I dashed into my room, banging the door closed. Then I puffed out a breath, slumping down to sit on the floor as I pinched the bridge of my nose.
Great. Just dandy. I hadn't left things mildly awkward this time. Oh no, I'd only left them mega, ultra, super awkward now. Progress! Superb. Just perfect.
That's it. It's decided. I'm not fit for human contact. I was just going to barricade myself in this room and never come out ever again. Ever. Period. The outside world would be better off without me anyhow. Good bye, people. Hello, sweet sweet solitude. I-
I heard a muffled buzz and my head snapped up. It'd come from Lea's jacket on my bed. I squinted at it for a second. Then it clicked. My phone! I half crawled, half scrabbled over to it, digging into the pocket and pulling it out, swiping the screen.
There was a new text from Lea.
2nite was fun
I blinked, looking over at my door. Then back down at my phone, pursing my lips to one side. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a second. Then slowly I began to type.
I thought so too.
I waited as those three little dots hopped in a row.
We shud totes do it again sometime
A huff of amusement escaped through my nose, the tension starting to leave my body.
I'd really like that.
Then I tipped my head to one side, grinning slightly as I tapped away further.
I'm paying next time though.
The dots were dancing on my screen again.
Aight, if u insist. But b warned, Im not a cheap date
Now I actually laughed.
I can live with that.
Perhaps I'd been a bit too hasty. Maybe there was no need to barricade myself in here. Not just yet anyway. I'd hold off for a bit.
At least long enough to see what tomorrow would bring.
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Author's Note: Anyone else notice Lea's shirts seem to be getting tighter and tighter every new excuse he has to see Elsa out of his work clothes? I think he's subconsciously putting on a courtship display to present himself as a sexually viable mate xD Ahem, moving on… Fun Fact 1: Fuente Del Oro is a real, Coco-themed restaurant over in Disneyland Park in Paris! Google translate says the name means "Gold Fountain", oooOOooo pretty! I really hope Coco makes it into one of the future KH games eventually! Fun Fact 2: Elsa's dress this chapter is inspired by her purple dress from when she sings Into The Unknown in Frozen 2! Just picture it shorter and more cocktail-dressy. And I know in the movie, that purple dress is a nightgown, but shhh, we'll just forget that part. And the dress Lea described in his "how we met" story? Loosely based on Elsa's Show Yourself dress - again just picture it shorter, more practical and more sundressy xD Also if you haven't heard of it, Before Sunrise is a real movie, not to mention a real SAPPY movie. Kind of slow, but cute. I'd actually never heard of it until I started writing this chapter - saw a gif go by on tumblr of the lead couple from the movie doing something adorable that made me go "oh gosh, that's SO Lea and Elsa!" and had to watch it xD I'm kind of happy it came along when it did though, cuz it gave me inspiration for Lea's "how we met" story :)
Next chapter, what new challenges will Elsa face in her adventures in fake dating? Will she ever be able to work up the courage to initiate a display of affection herself? Just how much of a "not a cheap date" is Lea really? What about his shirts? CAN they get any tighter? Stay tuned!
Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!
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taww · 3 years
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First Take Review: Gryphon Essence Preamplifier & Stereo Amplifier
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Okay, let’s get this out of the way: with a combined retail of over USD $40k (and that doesn’t include another $6k for the optional Zena DAC module), The Gryphon’s Essence preamplifier and stereo amplifier are by far the most expensive electronics I’ve ever had in my home! They might be the Danish firm’s entry point into separates, but that’s akin to calling a $146k Aston Martin Vantage “entry level.” There was a time in the not-so-distant past when spending such sums of money on stereo gear struck me as pointless excess. Perhaps I’ve been numbed by flipping through too many issues of The Absolute Sound or walking the halls of an audio show; perhaps I’m just entering a life stage (mid-life crisis, anyone?) where I’m allowing myself to indulge in such luxuries. Whatever the case may be, I’ve now had the good fortune of several months with the Essence combo, and despite a number of people prodding me for this review it’s been quite difficult to put into words how they perform. Why? Because every time I sit down to do the “work” of reviewing I just end up getting sucked into the music and forget to do the reviewing bit! But, here goes...
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The arrival of the Gryphon components was a case of one thing leading to another. My first experience was when I strolled into Gryphon’s room at RMAF 2018. After being disappointed by so many other mega-buck systems at the show, I was delighted that this one actually sounded like music! Frankly, a lot of über-expensive show systems landed on my ears like amusical hi-fi effects or whimsical fancies of what some people think music should sound like, rather than an actual musical performance. Like other big systems, the Gryphon rig was imposing and fancy-looking, but with a decidedly purposeful, even stark, aesthetic. And the sound - so tangible and luscious, maybe a little dark and brooding, but in a way that connected me emotionally to the recorded performance rather than distracting me with sonic affect. 
At the time I was happily running the Valvet A4 Mk.II monoblocks, and also had @mgd-taww​’s Pass Labs XA30.5 at my disposal. Both delivered the pure and colorful musical flavors of Class A amplification, and both are superb amps. But things got thrown for a bit of a loop when I settled on the Audiovector SR 6 Avantgarde Arreté speakers as my new reference. I had auditioned them at AudioVision SF with the Gryphon Diablo 300 integrated amp ($16k) and the sound gave up nothing to high-quality separates - big, bold and dynamic with tremendous poise and nuance. Coming back to the Pass and Valvet amplifiers (coupled with a Pass Labs XP10 line stage) certainly wasn’t a let-down, but they didn’t have quite the same level synergy with the Audiovectors which sounded more complete and visceral with the Gryphon integrated. 
This combined with the strong aural memories from the RMAF room led to a call to Gryphon’s US distributor, Philip O’Hanlon and Pandora Pang of On a Higher Note. Philip acknowledged that the Diablo was indeed excellent but teased that Gryphon had recently introduced a new line of separates worth consideration. The Essence had just arrived in the States and he had one more set in stock if I were so inclined... and next thing I know, a pallet loaded with what my wife lovingly referred to as “an illegal arms shipment” landed at our doorstep.
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Serious crates for serious gear
Like all separates in The Gryphon’s 35-year heritage dating back to the original DM100 amplifier, the Essence line features pure Class A operation with minimal negative feedback, but brings it at a lower price point ($22,990) with more conservative aesthetics and practical packaging. Prior to the Essence, to get a Gryphon amp one had to shell out anywhere from $39k for the Antileon EVO to $57k for the flagship Mephisto (double those if going for monoblocks). The tradeoff is a lower power rating - just 50wpc, albeit in pure class A and doubling into 4 ohms and again into 2 ohms - so you’ll want to pair it with a reasonably efficient speaker. The Essence preamp meanwhile is a repackaging of the Zena preamplifier launched in 2018 (also $17,500), reskinned with cosmetics to match the amp. It features fully balanced operation via a discrete DC-coupled Class A circuit with zero global negative feedback, and can accommodate either of two optional internal modules, the Zena DAC ($6,000) or an MM/MC phono stage ($2,250). Being strictly digital I opted to evaluate the DAC, which I’ll talk about in a later installment. I’ll also save more details about the design and operation of this beautifully-crafted gear, including Gryphon’s unique Green Bias system, for a more in-depth review. For now, let’s get down to the business of how it sounds...
The Essence Preamp
When the Essence components arrived I clearly needed my wife’s assistance to safely unpack and set up the 45kg/99lb Essence amp. But she was busy making reeds for her oboe that evening, so I initially made do setting up the preamp (it weighs in at “only” 13.4kg/29.5lbs) and comparing it to my Pass Labs XP10 with the Pass Labs XA30.5 amplifier.
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Firing up the Essence preamp from a cold start was one of those “damn, I don’t understand how a preamp can make this much of a difference” moments. Even though the Pass XP10 is a very solid performer - I find the sound of my PS Audio DirectStream significantly improved by it vs. feeding an amplifier directly - the 3x-as-expensive Gryphon outclassed it from the first note, taking musical resolution from the micro to nano level.
The first thing I noticed was how the entire back of the stage opened up. I never realized how triangular it sounded before, becoming narrower as you went deeper. With the Essence it suddenly feels rectangular and whole, with winds, brass and percussion able to naturally spread out and breath on the stage. It didn’t even take a big orchestral recording to experience this - my very first track was an intimate vocal with piano accompaniment, soprano Elsa Dreisig singing Strauss songs with pianist Jonathan Ware (Qobuz). The sense of the space - a church, as you can see from this video - and where the performers occupied it became strikingly tangible. Piano has starting clarity, with all its complex overtones unfolded and laid out for your ear to sample at its leisure. Dynamic resolution is also unlocked - subtle gradations in vocal intensity flow so organically. Going back to the Pass pre, macro dynamics weren’t Iacking, but the transitions somehow came across more synthetically, as if the volume dial was being turned rather than the performers modulating their instruments in the original performance. 
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One thing that didn't change too much was overall tonal balance. I find the Pass pretty neutral and extended, if anything having a subtly warmish character to it, at least by solid state standards. The Gryphon doesn't deviate notably from that, leaning slightly in that direction though with more sophisticated and varied tonal richness and density. The quality of the frequency extremes, however, is a different matter. Most striking is how triangles sparkle and ring with startling presence on the Gryphon. With a claimed frequency response out to 1MHz, the Essence pre delivers the highest highs with a sense of ease and finesse. And the bass is everything people have come to expect from the Gryphon house sound - deep, taut and powerful with beautiful tonality. The Pass Labs wasn’t missing any of the music per se, but the deepest bass notes and highest overtones sounded constrained vs. the effortless and wide-open delivery of the Essence.
So, yeah - a preamplifier that costs 3x as much as the Pass XP10 sounds clearly superior. Not much of a news flash, and a much fairer comparison in the Pass lineup would be the XP32 ($17,500) or at least an XP22 ($9,500). But what took me aback was how a preamplifier like the Essence could bring out so much life and nuance that was being curtailed by an otherwise fine piece like the Pass. The net effect was to make the musical performance feel significantly more tangible, visceral and unclouded - something that even the change of a DAC or amplifier doesn’t consistently achieve. The Gryphon Essence pre is simply an incredible conveyor of the musical signal.
And we haven’t even tried the amplifier yet...
The Essence Amplifier
Once I got my wife to assist in positioning the hefty Essence amp in the cabinet (safety first!), I hooked up the Audiovectors via my usual Audience Au24 SX cables and powered up the Gryphon using the stock power cord (the amp requires a 20A IEC connector, so standard cords won’t work). I played a bit with the Green Bias settings but obviously settled with it in red-hot Class A operation for serious listening. And while the amp has since benefited from multiple months of break-in, it was apparent from its first notes that the Essence had resolution, clarity, dynamics and tonal completeness on an altogether different level from any amp I’ve experienced in my system. But there was something else remarkable about its presentation that’s taken me many months to put my finger on, and I think I might be finally getting it.
The Essence amp has a very special ability to deliver the leading edge of a sound with incredible speed, precision and clarity. I’ve heard amps with fast leading edges (some attribute this to high slew rate), I’ve heard amps with very clean ones (lack of distortion and ringing). The Essence delivers a combination of fast and clean that is truly exceptional, and perhaps close to the state of the art. Every impulse and note attack hits you with perfect timing and delineation, then decay with similarly impeccable control. By comparison, amps like the Pass Labs that struck me as very pure have a bit of fuzz to them. Ever listen to an AM radio station when the signal gets weak, and all the starts and stops of sounds get staticky and fuzzy? There was a bit of that feeling going back to other amps in my system... no, they weren’t literally fuzzy and distorted. It’s just that the Essence amp sounds exceptionally lithe and clean, removing an extremely subtle layer of distortion that became difficult to un-hear in other amplifiers. 
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Coming from the Pass XA30.5, the Essence’s midrange was less overtly warm but even more substantive in tone. The Pass is certainly on the warm and lush side for a solid state amp, but past Gryphons I’ve heard had their own dose of chocolatey richness, so I was initially surprised by the balance of the Essence. It has the midrange density and lush tonal colors I was expecting from a Class A Gryphon amp, and yet it also sounds close to dead neutral in character. There’s a crystalline transparency that makes everything else sound a bit cloudy by comparison. Class A amps usually get the tonal part right, but can sound a bit sluggish or rounded dynamically; Class AB amps often have great transient speed but with some roughness around the edges and a bit of tonal hollowness. The Essence backs its exceedingly snappy and clean transients with real tonal substance and an infinite palette of realistic tonal colors. It can simultaneously preserve the gravitas of a string bass ostinato, the glowing warmth of a French horn, the delicate nasality of an oboe and the ethereal lightness of a flute all in balance. Orchestral recordings have never sounded this vivid and realistic in my home.
An interesting display of the amp’s prowess was in violinist Hilary Hahn’s recording of the Vieuxtemps Violin Concerto (Qobuz). The album also contains Mozart’s popular “Turkish” concerto which probably gets most of the plays; the Vieuxtemps is infrequently performed and mostly known by violinists as a sort of advanced student concerto (yes, my teacher made me study it). Vieuxtemps was a Belgian virtuoso of the romantic era and while the concerto has its charms, its orchestration is rather clunky. This actually made for a fascinating sonic experience in the concerto’s orchestral exposition, where different instruments pass melodic fragments back and forth in somewhat disjointed fashion rather than the more cohesive harmonization and counterpoint you’d get from a German master. A flute here, a clarinet there, a timpani roll or violin flourish coming and passing - the Essence conveyed each one with striking clarity and trueness of timbre and dynamics, arranging all the instruments across the stage in perfect proportion. So much of the feel of an instrument lies not just in its tonal makeup but the shape and feel of its notes - the reedy breathiness of a clarinet, the ringing “bong” of a timpani, the firm attack of a trumpet, the brush stroke of a violin. This is where the Essence’s leading-edge precision and lack of electronic haze help it truly evoke the feeling of sitting on the stage with the musicians, each and every instrumental entrance having that tactile realism.
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Having been a classmate’s of Ms. Hahn’s I also have first-hand experiences of her playing, and the Essence strongly evoked memories of hearing her performing in recitals or practicing in our conservatory. Though we were both teenagers at the time, she had already developed her distinctive tone and focused intensity, and hearing that reproduced so vividly through the Essence and Audiovector speakers is uncanny.
The frequency extremes of the Essence amp, particularly in combination with the Essence preamp, are also something special - the crazy-wide specified bandwidth of Gryphon components is no joke. The speed and tautness and slam of the bass brings realistic clarity to the foundation of the music. It’s bass that I like to call “sneaky” for the way it doesn’t unduly call attention to itself, but then will come out and smack you in the face as in a live event. Instruments like string bass or contrabassoon are naturally portrayed in the orchestration, rather than getting buried in the mix. The top end is extended and articulate, capable of bringing out all the energy and brilliance of string, brass and percussion instruments, and yet certain recordings that tend towards brightness actually sound warmer and smoother than I've heard before. It sounds so pure and free from distortion, so that if there’s any distortion already present on the recording it does nothing to aggravate it. Sibilants and tape hiss and clipping are still there, yet come across less obtrusively, making them easy to tune out in favor of the music. 
Case in point: the DSD remaster of Strauss Don Juan, recorded in 1958 by the Cleveland Orchestra under George Szell (Qobuz). My wife and I have listened to this recording dozens if not hundreds of times and while the performance is riveting, the recording quality has always been a bit hissy and strident. My wife asked to listen to it again on the Gryphon setup for study purposes and halfway through I remarked, "does this recording sound a lot less bright to you?" She concurred - we had never heard it sound so clean and natural, and for the first time I didn't notice the tape hiss at all. The Gryphon gear really does excel at extracting the essence of the musical performance locked in the recording, neither artificially filtering nor amplifying the distractions of its mechanical limitations. I’ve heard far too many ultra high-end systems that need absolutely pristine audiophile material to sound their best. With the Gryphons, every recording in my collection has never sounded more distinguished and compelling.
The sense of space that the Essence preamp conveyed with other amplifiers becomes even stronger in combination with the Essence amp. I have never heard the different sections of a symphony orchestra arranged so palpably. Winds and percussion have clearly delineated space behind the string section, and delicate clarinet solos that are typically a bit hazy in recordings are conveyed with both clarity and intimacy. There’s something about the Essence’s blend of clean transients, tonal rightness and harmonic resolution that bring out the distinct ambience and texture of each recording - the aural equivalent of the “mouth feel” of a wine. Going back to otherwise excellent amps makes everything feel a bit more homogenous, a hair less stimulating.
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There are a couple of potential shortcomings to call out, and they may be interrelated. The first is that the bass in combination with the Audiovector speakers isn’t quite as hard-hitting as with, say, the 600wpc Class D Legacy iv2, or as what I heard with the Gryphon Diablo 300 integrated; nor is it as plump and room-filling as with the Pass XA30.5. Quality-wise it’s exceptional - fast and deep and pitch-perfect in ways they can’t match - but sometimes I just want it to fill out the space a bit more and punch me in the gut a little harder. I mostly miss this when listening to pop tracks, e.g. anything from Billie Eilish where the raw punch of the Legacy amp factors more strongly than the n-th degree of refinement from the Gryphon.
The other nit is that the soundstage, while vividly painted, feels a bit less “generous” than bigger-sounding amps like the Legacy or Pass Labs, or the Gryphon Diablo for that matter. There’s a bit more emphasis on the precise constituency of an orchestra, as opposed to its sheer scale - a little more of the trees, a little less of the forest. To some, this may make the Essence feel a hair light in presentation, despite its rich and layered midrange.  Ears I trust tell me moving up the Gryphon line to the Antileon EVO or Mephisto can give you the best of both worlds, but those are obviously at increasingly exorbitant price points. 
I’ll need to try tweaking these area of reproduction more (e.g. cables), but as it currently stands, I could see the Essence best matching with speakers that are tonally richer and a bit less critically damped on the bottom end, vs. requiring care with something leaner and more laser-focused. It’s slightly lean with some recordings on the Audiovectors, and I’d definitely want to check before paring it with the likes of a Magico. It goes without saying that when you get to this level of fidelity (and cost), you should expect to spend a fair amount of time and effort on component matching.
As a side note, I was able to further extend the capabilities of the Essence via Furutech’s DPS-4.1 power cord (custom built with 20A connectors) and DSS-4.1 speaker cables. These upped the clarity and transparency yet another notch or three, opened up dynamics further and created a wider sense of space on recording after recording. I’ll have more on these excellent cables and how they synergize with the Gryphons in a future installment.
Capturing the Essence
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It’s been challenging pinning down the character of the Essence system, the amp in particular. Even more so than other great Class A amps I’ve heard, including from Gryphon, the Essence amp has a combination of purity, openness, refinement, clarity, speed and dynamic life that defy the usual idiosyncrasies and limitations of Class A vs. AB vs. D. It’s dynamically fleet, rhythmically incisive, tonally sophisticated, dimensionally resolving, and sneakily powerful and punchy. In combination with the superb companion preamp, it uncovers a sense of space in virtually every recording I throw at it with greater detail and palpability than I’ve heard before, without seeming artificially holographic like some tube amps. The tonal purity and resolving power of this pair are simply at a level I have rarely experienced anywhere at any price. Moreover, the name “Essence” couldn’t be more apt - all these sophisticated qualities are squarely focused on conveying the beauty and quirks of the original recording without need for enhancement or editorializing to make it enjoyable. The closest aural recollection I have of this sort of musical resolution was the MSB Reference + Magico M3 system at RMAF 2018, which had a significantly superior DAC and a total cost approaching $300k. 
As for the price... well, I can say that the monies spent on a piece by The Gryphon clearly go towards obsessive engineering and craftsmanship in the service of state-of-the-art music reproduction, rather than ostentation or frivolous excess. This is musical fidelity of the highest order, and my new reference in amplification.
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jesswsc1 · 3 years
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Initially, I wasn’t overly sure how to interpret our title of ‘black books and black holes’. I’ve felt awfully low for a while, and it’s been heavy on my mind, so I figured I’d take this project as somewhat of an opportunity to reflect on the past, troubles i’ve had as well as using it as a kind of venting of current frustrations. These low points act as my own personal black hole, as I fall down into them for some time. Similarly to how black does, they absorb any kind of light surrounding. To me, at times, this has meant not enjoying things I’ve adored prior - such as spending time with loved ones, music and hobbies. Growing up there were several black holes, but amongst them I have fond memories with my cousins, siblings and childhood friends. Somebody who has always been there for me (whether it be through choice or not) has been my brother. I decided to incorporate pictures of us throughout my little black book as homage to him as he is truly one of my favourite people ever, despite the troubles I don’t think our bond has ever gone away - it’s merely taken small redirections. I have such admiration for him and know I can rely on him and speak free from judgement. Years ago, I believe it was 2013, he fell ill and this meant he had to be hospitalised for a couple months. It was really hard for my family and was of course even more difficult for him. Seeing as he was hospitalised, this meant regular trips to the hospital, on the car journeys we’d always have the same Passenger CD playing in the car. I guess we just never got around to changing it. On this CD was a particular song that we’d all sing along to, which funnily enough is called ‘holes’. Hearing this song now makes me feel so safe and hopeful, knowing it got me as well as my family through a rough period in time. I made sure to incorporate some of the lyrics into one of my book spreads. One line reads, ‘but we carry on’, which has definitely stuck with me.
The constellation element of our project had me reflecting on space and the universe, and what exactly it means to me. Although I’m not too into space, I’m definitely fond of the moon. After my parents divorced, I was left in custody of my mum for a while. A teacher told me to look at the moon, because she’d be looking at it too at the same time and thinking of me. During this time I was living in a troubled home (I made this house the exterior of my book*) and would be heavily supported by her in school. She’d give me notebooks to express myself in and explain what was happening, as well as a departing gift when I inevitably left to go live with my dad here in Bury. Despite being a small part of my life, she still means a lot to me and has a place in my heart. Though not physically present with me anymore, she cared enough to find me years later and reached out to make sure I'm doing fine. It's reassuring knowing there are people as pure as she is. Because of this I dedicated a small section of my book to her that looks like a slither of the moon when the pages are flipped back onto it. 
My black book was titled ‘Wailing Ghosts’ by Pu Songling, containing 14 tales of various monsters and creatures, which is fitting to my work revolving around numerous burdens I have that seem to act as these little monsters also, creeping up every now and again. I did consider creating my own ‘chapters’, one for each black hole of mine, but didn’t want to structure my book in that way as I didn’t want to disrupt my creativity or force things.
          I say ‘was’ because I actually decided I wasn’t all that keen on how i’d layed my pages out. I instead took a second black book and collaged, reworked and inserted pages into a new one. I’m really glad I did so, as I now have a book I much prefer over the first. An aspect I did keep relatively whole was the swirly, illusion-looking front cover with a hole burned through the centre, almost like a little entrance to another world. Stanley Donwood inspired this page through his swirly seas he often features in his works, as he uses a bold thick line against white ones. I opted to put this page underneath my front cover so it still got to be showcased - only cutting a part off the corners to make sure it fit. 
Featured in my book are a few small self portraits, in varying cartoon-y styles. Some are only inspired by my face whilst others were drawn whilst staring into the mirror, then back at the page. Having struggled with low self esteem, there have been times where I don’t even want to perceive myself let alone interpret that into a drawing. Meanwhile doing my book work, I realised I have never drawn a self portrait - not since being a kid anyway - and had even actively avoided doing so during GCSE art. Over the past year or so, I’ve overcome an array of issues I’d had, so found myself able to draw these little portraits. It sounds pretty insane to me now that I would’ve found it so hard before, knowing I enjoyed coming up with various ways to put me in my book, even wanting to print pictures of me (sadly our printers decided to act up so I was not able to implement these). I feature my bathroom mirror on one page as it’s been the target of over-analyzing and although I have come far in self love, it still remains a deadly weapon. 
Claude Heath’s sketchy, rough portraits inspired me to create my own. I really enjoy how reckless his style is, as I'm trying to escape the ‘this has to be perfect’ mentality, Heath is a great example of how you don’t need to overthink your work. It can just exist and look cool. It’s fine. This was also encouraged in Thursday drawing sessions where we did blind drawings. I kept this mindset whilst doing my book as I tend to either overwork myself trying to create ‘perfect’ or do absolutely nothing, so I went with the flow of how my book panned out. 
Seeing as my work theme is a little on the darker side, I considered subduing the colours or perhaps even going full black and white. However, I love utilising colour in my art and felt this would make me feel unmotivated and uninspired. Especially seeing as this book is about me, it’s not insensitive to anybody to make it colorful and exciting. So, I have. Plus, despite everything I’m still smiling so I wanted to convey that somehow. Sort of, making the best out of bad situations. Damien Hirst’s usage of colours influenced me to just have fun with it, in the same way he does when creating his works. 
Throughout my book I have experimented with oil pastel, paint, staples, collage, rorschach ink blotting, screen printing, spray paint, photocopied pictures, flip book, tracing paper, washi tape and i’m sure there’s more. Point is, I wanted to cover a wide range of techniques seeing as there were many pages. In doing so I believe this was the best way as it meant there was a flow of ideas coming as I worked. I’ve learned that I love a range of ways of working as it keeps my brain ticking, meaning the work doesn’t feel stagnant and dull. Sadly there were lots more ideas I had for what to do into my book, but due to various reasons I couldn't. Such as wanting to sew using a sewing machine into my book, I tried to set my sewing machine up but when I would go to sew the thread would snap. But I believe it’s definitely something worth trying another time, as I was intrigued to see how it’d turn out. I also wanted to make a better flip book from the corner of my little page (see animation on blog) as it’s really simplistic. But drawing the little stick men alone took me an hour or so, and I didn’t see that being of much importance compared to getting actual pages filled out. Thus, I left it as a simple stickman. That being said I think the stick man illustrates the cycle of being in a slump, which is relatable to how lockdown is feeling and fits well with my book contents. I felt inspired by an artist who goes by ‘inhalerqueen’ (Amanda) on tiktok, who draws a simple, silhouette-like figure repeatedly. She calls this figure ‘void’ and i’d consider her work to be vent art, expressing how she feels. Originally I wanted to make my stick men look like void, however I don’t think that would be all that beneficial/change the effectiveness and would only take up more time.
If I were to have a soundtrack to my work I would opt for ‘Yellow’ by Coldplay. Reason being, regardless of my state of mind I return to this song and feel the same listening through every time. It’s such a lovely song and just feels like peace, as cheesy as that may sound considering Coldplay is very much dad music. It reminds me of my yellows, and how much they mean to me. Even with the black, I have my yellows. Lyrics to the song can be found in my book also. 
Overall, I’m relatively pleased with my work. There’s no doubt things I would do differently, but I’m glad I’ve had this experience and was able to vent a little similarly to how Amanda does. In future I hope to perhaps recreate this book and treat it as kind of a ‘rough’ or ‘plan’ for a more refined and thought-out version, perhaps this time with chapters like I'd considered and with ideas I didn’t get to delve into.  There are pages I’m not so keen on, but I’m proud of myself for just leaving them as opposed to overworking them and/or scrapping them just because they aren’t what I like. I love the pictures of me and my brother, if I could I would’ve collaged more into my book however our printer simply wouldn’t allow it. As well as the exterior of the book, as I think it adds a personal element as opposed to being left as it was. 
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cecilspeaks · 5 years
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153 - The Heist, part 1
Constellations are fan art depicting ancient gods.   Welcome to Night Vale.
I’ve said many times that science is neat. But sometimes it is also messy. Carlos converted one of our guest rooms into a laboratory so he can spend more time at home and get some needed renovations done on his laboratory downtown. Which seemed like a great idea, until I realized that it’s impossible to contain chemical odors and stains from getting all over the rest of the house. Not only did acid eat through our new Egyptian-tiled backsplash, but also a petri dish grew feet and walked outside, only to walk back inside tracking mud all over my new handwoven Svitzian rug. The last straw was when Carlos stained all of his shirt sleeves, not to mention his hands and, somehow, even the (cords) countertops a dull green, which completely threw off my kitchen color palette. I told Carlos he had to stop, but he insisted he had made a major breakthrough in his doorless fridge invention. “Cecil, this is so exciting,” he said, bouncing up and down like a child who wants a toy or needs to pee. “The problem with refrigerators is the door. In order to put food in or take food out, you have to open the door, and that’s totally  bad because it lets all the cool air out, raising the temperature of the other food inside. I told him that’s not that big of a problem, but his face darkened and he said, “Baking is an exact science, Cecil. If the butter is off my a couple of degrees, my croissants are ruined.”
I understood, but I asked that he find another place to conduct that particular experiment. He’s turning everything in our home a dull green, including his own skin. Fortunately, my sister Abby and her husband Steve Carlsberg just bought a new house. Ever since his promotion to vice president of the Last Bank of Night Vale, Steve has been saving up to buy a larger home for his family, one with a yard for dogs, no stairs and wider doors for his daughter Janice’s wheelchair, and even his own man cave, where he can raise bats and cultivate rare crystals. And they finally closed on their dream home this summer. They bought Janice a car too, complete with accessible hand controls, a state of the art sound system, and a moon roof that closes automatically at night so you never have to see that awful moon. Anyway, there is also a giant empty storage shed out back of their new home, and Steve and Abby told Carlos he can work in the shed until his laboratory downtown is ready to use again. So far, it sounds like everything is working out fine for Carlos, although he did accidentally leave a large green handprint on Janice’s new car. The good news is, she thought it looked really cool, so she decided to leave it.
Listeners, I’m getting word that there’s a robbery taking place in downtown Night Vale. Three people have entered the Last Bank of Night Vale and are demanding money from the tellers. The robbers are wearing masks of former US presidents Richard Nixon, William Henry Harrison, and Emma Goldman. The Sheriff’s Secret Police, as well as the Sheriff’s Overt Police, are on the scene but the perpetrators have begun to take hostages and the police are trying to negotiate. The robbers have not stated any demands yet, so the police are left to guess what they want. One officer suggested giving them a million dollars, which was (-) [0:05:52] accepted by the fellow officers as a great idea. Because, while human lives cannot be distilled down to a monetary value, a million dollars is pretty cool. But this idea was shot down by Sheriff Sam, who pointed out that the department does not have a million dollars. “What if we got them a puppy?” another officer offered up. “My basset just had a litter and I thought we’d be able to sell them, but it’s definitely a buyer’s market out there for hounds,” the officer continued. “Anyway I’ve got a brown one with white spots and two white ones with brown stops. I’ve named the Chutney, Footstool and Bob Ross. Footstool is the runt, let’s give them Footstool.” “We’re not giving them puppies,” Sheriff Sam shouted. “Oo, what about an Applebee’s gift card?” another officer said. “Worth a million dollars.” “Or a coupon book for free favors,” another said, “like repainting the guest room or raking leaves or – oh, wait, we’re the police right? A free crime day! They, they could use that coupon today, and we don’t have to arrest them and file all the paperwork, and the hostages get to go free. We could even have a coupon for a 15 minute backrub.”
All of the officers clapped for this idea, not just a win-win but a win-win-win, for the hostages, the robbers and the police. All except Sheriff Sam, who silenced them all with a loud whistle. More like a pan flute, really. It’s an enchanted whistle that causes vocal cords to stop working. “We are police,” the Sheriff scolded. “It is clearly stated in our oath of office to never give backrubs to bank robbers.” They then set to work trying to devise a plan to stop the robbery and free the hostages in the bank. Oh dear. Uh, listeners, I was just talking about my brother-in-law Steve, and here comes this terrible news. Um, I have no further information about Steve’s condition right now, nor the other citizens who are being held at gunpoint inside the bank. I will update you as events progress.
In the meantime, let’s go to sports. The Night Vale high school Scorpions opened their season this Friday against the Whispering Forest Wood Dogs. Scorpion’s head coach Latrice Beaumont said this will be a tough match up. The Wood Dogs, a team entirely comprised of trees, are roundly regarded as one of the toughest defenses in the state, with their tactic of whispering compliments to opposing players, until those players themselves turn into trees. Last season, Whispering Forest dealt to Night Vale its only loss, as nine of the Scorpions starting offensive players, including quarterback Junius Duncan, were won over by the Wood Dogs’ pleasant cooing. By the end of the game, the field was covered in trees, many of them former Night Vale high school student athletes. And Whispering Forest snuck out with a 3-to nothing win on the late field goal, that was somehow kicked by a tree. Coach Beaumont says she plans to give her players ear plugs to help dampen the whispers from the Wood Dogs’ defense. She also has uglied up the Scorpions’ uniforms adding mustard yellow and hot pink argyle atop the dark purple jerseys, hoping that the arborial defenders will find little good to say. The Scorpions are starting a new quarterback this season, sophomore (phenome) [0:09:20] Julie Dobbs, who won the job because of her prophetic dreams. Her slumbering subconscious is able to see the future, most notably other teams’ defensive strategies. She also uses her dream journals to develop a nearly unstoppable offensive game plan. She also owns her own football, which was a huge plus for the coaches. Good luck this weekend, Scorpions! We’re pulling for you.
I now have the names of the hostages being hold at the Last Bank of Night Vale. Jesse McNeil, a security guard who has worked at the bank for nearly 50 years, oh Jesse. What a sweet old man. He says hi to me every time I go there, always has a smile and a compliment. Why, just the other day he said to me, “Heard you on the radio, Cecil, and I was beaming with pride.” Another hostage, bank teller Genevieve Daly, who started at the bank this week. Oh Genevieve, what a tough break. Just now that we’re pulling for you. Bank customer and dinosaur expert Joel Isenberg. Oh Joel, I know Joel! He’s such a smart guy. And the last of the hostages: staff supervisor of the bank, Susan Willman. OK well, tough.
Unfortunately, after several grueling minutes, negotiations between the sheriff and the robbers have broken down. So the police have decided that the only way to break the stalemate is with physical force. While this makes sense in chess, I don’t know if this is such a good idea for hostage negotiations, listeners. But the police have advanced into the building to engage the thieves directly.
Witnesses reported hearing several gunshots, but they said the noises could also be fireworks, part of the day long celebration of Lee Marvin’s 31st birthday, which was back in June. Oh. Happy late birthday, Mr. Marvin. You don’t look a day over 30.
We cannot see inside the bank and no one has emerged yet. I will have to report back later as soon as I have – oh no wait, wait. I’ve been told that the bank is on fire now. The west wall of the bank is engulfed in flames and the Night Vale fire department is already on the scene. They are shouting at the fire to stop being such a nuisance, but the fire does not appear to be listening.
Oh, this isn’t good. And even more frightening for me, I did not see Steve Carlsber’s name on the list of hostages. Abby told me he was at work today, but why was he not taken hostage? I can only hope he had gone to lunch when the robbery began. Steve, if you hear this and you’re at lunch, don’t go back to work, it’s on fire. I feel so powerless. All I can do is hope And bring you the weather.
[My Friend” by Dominique Chantel Worthing with Barrett Ward, https://soundcloud.com/dominique-worthing ]
First, the good news. The hostages have been freed. Inside the bank, the police drew their weapons on the robbers, but could not get off a clean shot because of the hostages blocking their line of fire. The robbers fired back, forcing the police to retreat behind a Coinstar machine and a full sized promotional cardboard cutout featuring a hooded man, his jagged smile just barely visible in shadow, holding a raw slab of red meat with the bold tex below him reading: “Great mortgage rates are inside of you”. But the second wave of officers blocked the thieves’ escape from the front entrance. Then, and Sheriff Sam did not see how this happened, but a fire began in the bank lobby. It spread quickly and the room filled with smoke. In the confusion, the hostages broke free from their captors and the robbers ran from the police. Fire engines sprayed water and broadcasted loud admonishments at the fire to knock it off already.
Susan, Joel, Genevieve and Jesse ran out into the street covering their faces, choking on the black air. As Jesse emerged, his 75-year-old body was knocked backwards by one of he fire engines’ hoses. Jesse was soak head to foot. The firefighters apologized, but Jesse merely brushed himself off and then generously complimented their work by saying, “I see you’re fighting a fire.” What a gentleman. The three perpetrators of the bank robbery also fled through the front of the building, but the police quickly halted and arrested them. As the fire finally subsided, amidst the damp charred masonry and broken glass, came another figure. Steve Carlsberg emerged from the bank, sweating and limping, but safe. An ambulance arrived to take the survivors to the hospital, but they all declined, except Steve who had a broken foot and gladly took the EMTs up on their offer. The bank robbers were transported to the abandoned mine shaft outside of town for questioning. It’s an open and shut case. The bad people lose and the good people win, and every single person, even the people who own Applebee’s, is glad no one had to purchase a one million dollar Applebee’s gift card. My brother-in-law is safe, as are his employees and customers. No one died and not a single dollar was taken from the bank registers at the front counter, nor the ATMs, nor the Coinstar. Even the fire didn’t damage those bills.
That was the good news. The bad news: as the police did a final sweep of the bank, searching for anyone else inside, whether they be customers or criminals, they reached the bank’s vault in the back of the building. Before he left the hospital, the police asked Steve Carlsberg to open the vault for them. “We’re sure everything’s fine, “they said. “It’s routine in a bank robbery,” they said. “I understand,” Steve said. He opened the vault, they looked inside, and they saw nothing. Millions of dollars in bills and gold were gone. Sheriff Sam said there’s a conspiracy here, and they’re going to really put the screws to the people they arrested. “No HBO until they explain where the money from the vault,” the Sheriff declared. And that’s a big deal, because a black lady’s sketch show just premiered last month and is crazy good. The Sheriff said they have no clues yet as to where the money in the vault went, but they did discover the robbers’ names are Richard, William, and Emma. Which is interesting because those are the names of the presidents whose masks they wore. “I don’t think that’s a coincidence,” the Sheriff said confidently. The bank lost a great deal of money today and some innocent people lost their sense of comfort, but we are all still alive. At least those in this story are, and I’m so happy to know my brother-in-law is safe, as are Jesse and Joel and Genevieve, whom I’ve never even met. I’m glad those specific people are OK as well as anyone else who was taken hostage today.
Stay tuned next for an unedited recording from two years ago of you talking to a kitten. You sound ridiculous.
Good night, Night Vale, Good night.
Today’s proverb: Don’t go writing metaphors. Please stick to the similes and literal descriptions that you’re used to.
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