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ais-for-alex · 3 years

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The Scars of Our Past: Ch3

Alrighty guys here is chapter 3 of Figure Skater Au

By the time Leo stumbled into his motel room, it felt like the bitter cold air had seeped into his very bones. The moment he passed the threshold, he let his skate bag slip from his shoulder and hit the floor with a thud. He then proceeded to fall face-first onto the bed, too exhausted to even change into a pair of sweats. His body ached from the cold and the brutal intensity of his first solo practice in Gryffindor.

Leo had been in the city for nearly a week, most of his days had been spent in group sessions where he met the other skaters also working under Madam Maxine. Today had been the first time he had worked one on one with her, honestly, it was the first time he had worked one on one with a figure skating coach at all.

Back in New Orleans, after the-

Well just after, Leo couldn’t bring himself to gear up and get back in the net but he also couldn’t bring himself to abandon the one place that soothed the hurt inside him. So instead, he stepped out onto the ice in a pair of figure skates, he damn near broke his ass the first time he tripped on the toe pick. From that day though Leo worked, he worked so hard to learn the ins and outs of the figure skating world; he worked until he could execute each jump, each spin perfectly. And so what if he was working to avoid the memories?

Leo entered his first contest as a bit of a joke, the owner of his local rink had told him to do it, so he did. Who was to think that he would actually win? And standing there in the center of the rink with people tossing flowers on the ice for him, Leo was hooked. From that point on Leo continued working, and while it still helped to block out the memories of- of that, this time he was working towards something. He spent countless hours in the rink, in dance studios, and researching a coach that would take him on. That’s how he found himself here in Gryffindor, laying face first on a musty motel bed.

Leo groaned at the soreness in his body; if this is how he felt after just his first week here, he was a bit scared to think about what the future would hold.

The only highlight of his day had been meeting them; Finn and Logan. The image of their faces seemed to have been etched under his eyelids because no matter what he did he couldn’t seem to push them away. Leo sighed and rolled onto his back, he reached down to fish his phone from his pocket and opened the search. Logan had mentioned they had been there for practice, Leo knew for a fact that they weren’t figure skaters, so that really only left one other option.

Leo’s fingers hesitated for just a moment before typing Gryffindor Lions Finn and Logan into his phone. Almost instantly, information popped up, press photos of them in their game day suits, gifs of them slamming each other into the boards after a goal. Scrolling down just a bit he clicked open the wiki article.

Finn O’Hara, age 23, was born and raised in New York and was drafted to the Gryffindor Lions in 2017. O’Hara graduated from Harvard University with a degree in English Language Arts and Creative Writing. He gained prestige playing on the Harvard Collegiate hockey team, during the duration of his time at the school. O’Hara, number 17, currently plays right wing…

The article continued into Finn’s stats, Leo scrolled down farther and clicked on Logan’s name highlighted in blue.

Logan Tremblay age 22 joined the Gryffindor Lions the following year in 2018, seeming content to continue his career alongside long-time friend and teammate Finn O’Hara. Tremblay left his hometown of Rimouski, Quebec, Canada to attend Harvard University. Upon graduating with a Business degree, Tremblay joined the NHL. Number 10, also playing right wing…

Leo clicked out of the Wiki and opened Instagram, it didn’t take long before he was scrolling through countless pictures and videos of them, and gods were they gorgeous. The way Finn handled a puck, the strength behind Logan’s slap shot. Leo’s breath hitched each time he found a picture of them shirtless his eyes roving over the strength of their muscles.

What are you even doing to yourself? Leo thought, his thumb pausing its scroll on a picture of Logan in the locker room, half-dressed and a stick between his legs taping the blade.

You told yourself never again. Have you forgotten already? That thought sent a painful stab through Leo’s heart; he threw his phone into the corner of the room disgusted with himself that he dared to even entertain the idea that he was attracted to these men.

I’ll never forget, never. Leo’s eyes drifted up to the tacky popcorn ceiling of his motel room, he stared there trying to ignore the painful throbbing in his heart as hot tears leaked from the corner of his eyes.

He wasn’t sure how long he laid there; sniffling softly as wave after wave of hurt washed over him but eventually, Leo’s burning eyes slipped closed as he drifted into a restless sleep.

***

Leo startled awake to the sharp blaring sound of his alarm, he reached over to the nightstand to turn off the obnoxious sound only to realize his phone wasn’t there. Groaning, he vaguely remembered tossing it into the corner last night, Leo crawled out of bed cringing slightly at the uncomfortable feeling of the street clothes he slept in. Finally turning off the alarm, Leo thanked whatever miracle it was that his phone hadn’t died in the night.

Groaning again Leo made his way into the bathroom only to flinch at the sight of his red puffy face reflected back at him. He splashed himself with icy water until satisfied the redness was from the cold rather than his dried tear tracks.

Gods, you’re pathetic, he thought to himself as he brushed his teeth. Just stick to the plan. You’ve got this Knut. With a sigh, Leo made quick work of gathering his things to head to his morning ballet class, body still sore from practice the day before.

Leo slipped into the dance studio quietly and switched into his soft leather flats before claiming the far corner to begin stretching. This was always one of his favorite parts, the smooth methodical way he is able to loosen his body, the slight burn in his tired muscle as they began to warm, the grounding sensation of just moving in such purposeful ways. He found it soothing.

“Leo!” a posh male voice called out from the door of the studio, making Leo cringe just a bit and lean deeper into his stretch. The man quickly strode over to him and dropped to the floor to begin his own warm-up as he began chatting, “Did you see that triple axel I landed flawlessly in practice the other day?” he asked flipping his silky blond hair out of his face and shooting him a blindingly white smile.

Leo repressed a snort. If by flawless, he meant nearly fell on his ass then yes Leo had seen it. Instead, he opted to ignore the question entirely, “Good morning, Gilderoy.”

“You know if you want, I could teach you,” Gilderoy continued, “I know you haven’t been skating as long as most of us, so I wouldn’t mind doing a bit of extra practice with you.” Leo bit back the urge to say he had been skating his whole life.

“That’s ok Gil, I’m more of a solo practice kinda guy,” Leo replied instead, rolling his eyes when the other man wasn’t looking, then slid down into a full split. Leo breathed in deeply and leaned forward until his entire upper body was pressed flat to his front leg. He held it for a moment then slowly pulled his body upwards until he was bent backward over his back leg, his arms extended into the stretch.

“Leo, love, you don’t need to be self-conscious around me,” Gilderoy said in what Leo could only assume was meant to be a comforting voice, “I know it might be intimidating to learn from a World Championship finalist but I just want to help you.”

Leo bit his cheek in an attempt not to giggle at that statement, he had seen last year’s World Championship. The only reason Gilderoy had even made it on the podium was due to several skaters having to drop from the contest last minute due to injuries, and even then he only got bronze.

“Stop harassing him Gil,” another voice said just before Gilderoy let out an indignant squawk. Leo glanced up to see a tall redhead ruffling Gilderoy’s previously perfectly quaffed hair.

“Morning Leo,” he said with a wink.

“Morning Fab,” Leo grinned as he fought to keep down the image of a different redhead that wanted to take control of his thoughts. Though as he watched Fabian begin moving through his warm-ups he couldn't help but notice how very different they were. Whereas Fabian had the tall lean structure of a dancer, Finn was bulkier, his muscular build tapering down into a trim waist. Fabian’s hair burned a bright ginger with the sides shaved down short into an undercut; Finns auburn hair had looked so soft and fluffy, Leo wished he could have run his hands through it. And that right there was the biggest difference, Fabian was a friend, another skater under the guidance of his coach, but Finn… Finn made Leo’s stomach flip just to think about.

Jesus, you don’t even know the man, get your shit together. Leo’s thoughts were soon pulled away from redheads when Madam Maxine swept into the room to begin their practice.

Later, panting and sweaty from performing combination after combination, Leo switched back into his street shoes and was gathering his things when he heard his name.

“Leo!” Fabian called before plopping down next to him to change his own shoes, “Hey, so Benji and I are going to the Lions home game tomorrow, and we have a couple extra tickets if you wanna come?”

Leo looked up and blinked a bit thrown off by the offer, he hadn’t watched hockey in years. Not since… well not since it happened.

“Oh, um… I shouldn’t,” Leo stuttered out, trying to think up an excuse to decline the invitation.

“What! Why not? My brother and a couple other friends are coming too, it’ll be fun. Give you a reason to get out of your motel room that isn’t just practice.”

“That’s just it, I really should practice more. I don’t have the time to take the night off, I mean I haven’t been performing for nearly as long as y’all. I have a lot of ground to make up here.”

“Leo, babycheeks,” Fabian said dramatically, then casually wrapping his arm around Leo’s shoulders, “I don’t know if anyone has ever told you this before or if you are just being willfully oblivious, but you skate better than about 90% of the people here and probably about 80% of the people in the industry. Are there some things you need to work on? Sure, but that goes for literally everyone. Your lack of performing experience is not a lack of talent or skill. So with that being said come out with us, enjoy the game, make some friends, practice will always be here when you get back.”

“That’s sweet of you to say Fab, but…”

“Nope! No buts! We are kidnapping you from your room, taking you to the game and you are going to have a great time. Then you will be all ‘Oh Fabian! Thank you so much for helping me get a social life! Oh! How ever can I repay you!’” Fabian said dramatically imitating Leo with a ridiculously over the top southern accent, “Then I will be like ‘it was my pleasure, but I would accept your undying gratitude if you teach me that glorious step sequence you did in practice the other day.’”

At this point, Leo’s eye roll got lost in his laughter as he pulled his bag onto his shoulder.

“Besides, if for no other reason, you can just spend the evening ogling hockey players.”

At that Leo’s mind flashed back to a pair of sparkling emerald eyes staring into him and soft curls fluffing out under a snapback, reluctantly he sighed and accepted he probably wasn’t getting out of this, “Alright fine, but you’re buying me a beer.”

“I think I can swing that,” Fabian said with a laugh, “and yes, you can come too Gil.”

Gilderoy had been lingering during their conversation just close enough to listen and make himself noticeable, at the sound of his name he instantly perked up, “Oh, that’s so flattering of you to invite me,” he said as if he hadn’t been fishing for an invitation, “Of course I’ll have to call and cancel a couple of plans though, with such short notice you know.”

Fabian simply rolled his eyes, very much used to Gilderoys dramatics, “You do that, and Leo, I’ll text you what time we’ll pick you up.”

“Sounds good, I’ll see ya then,” Leo said with a slight wave before he slipped out of the ballet studio and back out into the cold.

Read on AO3

Chapter 2 Chapter 4

#Sweater Weather #Coast To Coast #lumosinlove #Leo knut #Finn O’Hara #logan tremblay #gilderoy lockhart #writing #hockey #figure skating #The Scars of Our Past #intrusive thoughts

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quokkacore · 4 years

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do you believe in magic? [kim yugyeom]

summary: Inspired by the HP quote, “Me dad’s a muggle. Mam’s a witch. Bit of a nasty shock for him when he found out.”

pairing: kim yugyeom x fem witch!reader

genre: fluff, witch!au

warnings: mild language, yugyeom faints? idk

song rec: lizzo - deep

word count: 2.1k

a/n: this was originally posted to my old writing blog on september 15th, 2018. happy reading! <3

masterlist

Kim Yugyeom was lucky he was cute.

It wasn’t that he was stupid. Not at all — Yugyeom could be very smart when he wanted to. No, your Gyeommie was just… oblivious.

Oblivious to the fact that his girlfriend, which was to say, you, was a witch.

You’d been dating Yugyeom for almost a year now, and needless to say, things were getting pretty serious.

For most people, the way romance worked, had maybe four steps. One, you meet, two, you fall in love, three, you start dating, and if things are that serious, then… four, you get married.

For witches, specifically the witches that decided to date non-witches (muggles, no-majs, mortals, humans, or whatever you call them), there were always five steps: to tell the person they were dating that, hey, they were a witch. Some opted to wedge the extra step in between three and four, but you had heard of a few that had left it as a fifth step.

Which never really ended well, or so you’d heard. So that was why, as your first anniversary approached, you’d decided to start dropping more hints about your abilities to your boyfriend, who really, really sucked at picking them up.

Your black cat, for one. You’d gotten Jules before you started dating, but you’d realized something the first time Yugyeom had met your cat.

“Why a black cat?” He’d asked, before jokingly adding, “They’re bad luck, you know. And they’re friends with witches.”

There were several things you wanted to answer with. That black cats weren’t bad luck, and, yes, they were friends with witches. Why did he think you had one? But instead, you’d answered with the most stupid words you’d ever heard yourself say.

“In this house, we don’t approve of cat racism.”

And he’d lost it.

Since then, things had gotten more serious. You’d met his parents. He’d met yours (in what was the most nerve wracking night of your life, but that was a story for another time). He’d even asked if you wanted to move in, which was what made you realize just how serious that things were starting to get. A few nights later, before falling asleep, you asked him a question.

“Gyeom?” You murmured, and you felt a soft rumble from his chest as he let out a quiet, “Hmm?”

“Do you believe in magic?”

He craned his head to look at you in the dim light. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his lips were pouting slightly as he contemplated the question. “Why do you ask?” He asked back a few moments later.

You could feel your heart in your throat as you contemplated telling him in that very moment. You opened your mouth to speak, ready to tell him.

“No reason,” You answered instead, “I just… I just think sometimes that whatever force brought us together had to have been, uhh, magical, for you and I to be so perfect for each other.”

As his eyebrows remained furrowed, his lips grew into a small smile.

“You are so cheesy sometimes,” He replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Gyeommie.” You couldn’t help but feel disappointed in yourself, mentally slapping yourself for being such a wimp.

Still, he smiled slightly wider and his grip tightened a little on your waist, calming your nerves. And you fell asleep like that, wishing you could tell the truth about who you really were.

There was also the slight fear of him thinking you were a freak or being angry once you told him. You’d even asked yourself if he’d attack you, as you’d heard it happen before, but immediately discarded the thought.

This was Kim freaking Yugyeom, the boy who’d taken you for a walk in the park during summertime and refused to kill a mosquito that had landed on his arm because, “The little dude’s just living his life. You wouldn’t like it if you were eating a grilled cheese and someone just decided to merk you.”

…Yeah, you were safe.

So you continued dropping hints. Each and every one went completely ignored, as if he were leaving you on read in person. First, you decided to reorganize your tarot cards in front of him when he was visiting your apartment.

“Cool!” He answered, “I didn’t know you played poker. Maybe you can teach me.”

He took another bite of the sandwich he’d made himself, before wiggling his eyebrows. “I’ve always wanted to play strip poker, you know.”

His tone was playful, and you laughed. But at the same time… Does he really not know the difference between tarot cards and playing cards?

“They’re not poker cards, babe,” You explained as he finished his sandwich, “They’re tarot cards.”

He tilted his head, his silver earrings dangling.

“I’ve never heard of that game, how do you play?”

“Gyeom, it’s not a game—”

You were interrupted by the sound of Yugyeom’s phone. He fished it out of his pocket, before mumbling, “Just a sec, jagi.”

He answered the phone. “Bam, what’s up? Dude, calm down. What? Now? I can’t, I have to… Fuck, Bam, fine, I’ll be there in ten minutes. You owe me, big time.”

He hung up, sighing as he carded a hand through his hair. You furrowed your eyebrows. “What’s up with Bambam?” You asked, watching him pick up his jacket from the couch.

“His cat’s going into labor,” He groaned, “He’s freaking out. He wants me to help him.”

Pulling on his denim jacket, he walked towards you to press a kiss to your cheek. “Teach me your game another time, babe. I gotta go, I’m sorry.”

He started toward your apartment door, opening it hastily. “Wait, Yugyeom—”

But he was already gone, leaving you dumbfounded.

And that was only the first attempt.

You tried making some tea because, hey, infusions are witchy. He told you that you didn’t need to diet because you were beautiful just the way you are. Which was sweet, but, also mildly frustrating.

You’d left your book of shadows out where he could see it, on a page full of runes and sigils. He’d told you that you were a great abstract artist. You’d even started watching movies with witches in them while he was around, like Hocus Pocus or Practical Magic, even though you had a strong distaste for how misrepresented you felt.

Finally, for your anniversary, after going out for a nice dinner, you gave him a DVD set of the first season of Game of Thrones, because you knew he’d been wanting to start watching it.

“It has magic in it,” You said in a sing-song tone when he unwrapped it, back at his apartment. He turned his head to look at you, his dark eyes glittering. “I get it now, Y/N,” He answered, and your eyes went wide.

“Y-you do?”

He nodded, smiling at you, and you felt your heart swell. “I looked up what tarot was,” He began, “It’s a form of… divination, right?”

You nodded proudly, grinning. Finally!

“That, and then the tea leaves, the drawings in your journal, then the movies, and this? Babe…”

You were so happy, you could scream.

“…You really didn’t have to go that far with the whole ‘what we have is magical’ bit, jagi, but, damn, this is so sweet. I love you.”

Your smile faded. “What?” You asked, blinking.

“What?” He asked back, his tone different from yours. You sounded confused, he sounded even more confused. “Y-you think this is a play on my words, Yugyeom?”

He blinked, scratching at the back of his neck and looking awkward as hell. “Is that… not what this is?”

You stood up, shaking your head. “I… need some water.”

You walked over to the kitchen, but he followed you as you did. “What?” He asked innocently from behind you, “What did I do?”

Not looking back, even though the whiny tone he took was adorable, you opened his refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. Opening it, you shook your head, “Nothing, Gyeom. Forget about it.”

You took a swig of your water, turning back to face him. He looked frustrated. “No,” he answered, stepping closer to you, “I won’t.”

“Really, Gyeommie, it’s not a big deal…”

“Of course it’s a big deal,” He replied, eyebrows furrowing as he gently took the water bottle from your hands, and set it on the counter in a haste, “I want you to be happy, and that can’t happen if you’re not letting me know what’s bothering you.”

“Yugyeom, I… You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“I’d still love you,” He murmured, pressing his forehead against yours, and you felt your eyes flutter shut, “No matter what you do, Y/N, I’m gonna love you.”

One of his big hands grasped yours, and you smiled as he pecked you on the lips. The other hand went to the counter, sandwiching you between it and him.

“Tell me, baby,” He murmured, as you opened your eyes, looking up at him.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself to tell him, and you felt his free hand, the one against the counter, move. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

He smiled warmly, still moving his free hand to be more comfortable. “Come on, Y/N, I’m sure it’s not that bad— waitnoholycrap!”

As he’d been moving his hand along the counter, he’d accidentally managed to tip over your water bottle, which was still uncapped. Both his head and yours moved to watch it fall over, things seeming to move in slow motion.

Your eyes widened as Yugyeom broke away from you and moved to grab it, and you held out a hand instinctively, closing your eyes as you braced yourself to get splashed by cold water.

You opened one eye when it never came.

You were met with Yugyeom looking at you, eyes wide as the moon. He looked pale as hell, mouth agape. You opened both eyes, and stared at him for a moment, before realizing what had freaked him out so much, as you turned to look down at the bottle of water, which was, surprise, surprise, levitating. No water had spilled from it, thankfully.

“What the— H-how—”

You flicked your wrist upwards, watching as the bottle of water floated upwards, before settling itself back on the counter. You glanced back at your boyfriend, whose eyes had somehow managed to get even bigger. “D-did you… How did you even…?”

“Gyeom,” You mumbled, staring up at him, “Do you believe in magic?”

He blinked, pointing at the bottle, and then you, and then back at the bottle. “You— But— Wait, that’s what this was all about?”

You nodded sympathetically. “I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you sooner, but I…”

Your words were lost on Yugyeom, who was already in his own world. “You just… and you… water bottle…”

His words faded off to somewhere, and a few seconds later, he did too. His eyes rolled up into his head, and he started falling forward, and you caught him before he could hit his head on anything. You never imagined this would happen.

“Yugyeom?” You asked, tone worried but also slightly amused. “B-Babe?”

A half hour and one more levitation spell later, Yugyeom came to in his bed, with you sitting next to him as you applied a cold cloth to his forehead. His eyes cracked open, and he rasped out, “Y/N?”

“Hey,” You murmured, “How are you doing?”

“D-did you really—"

“Make the water bottle float? Yeah. Yeah, I did. This entire time, Gyeommie, I’ve been wanting to tell you the truth. A-and now you know, I’m a witch.”

Yugyeom took a deep breath, eyes looking up at his ceiling. “Goddamn,” He mumbled, “I high key thought I was going crazy for a moment.”

You chuckled, shaking your head lightly. “You’re not, Gyeom. I swear.”

He didn’t respond, and your heart went into overdrive. And when your heart went into overdrive, you tended to word vomit. “I mean, I understand if you wouldn’t want to date me because of it, I know it’s weird and if you want to break up I’m not gonna stop you even though I love you andyou’rereallyspecialtomeactuallywaitnopleasedon’tbreakupwithmeGyeom—!”

“Woah, woah. Calm down, Y/N…” He grabbed your hand, and squeezed. You instinctively squeezed back. “Why would I break up with you over the fact that you’re, like, Hermione Granger?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t know… I’ve heard about it happening before…”

He shook his head, removing the cloth from his forehead and slowly sitting up. “Nothing could keep me away from you, jagiya. Not even magic, which, now, at least, I do believe in. Does that answer your question?”

He leaned in to kiss you again, and you felt how the both of you were smiling.

When you broke away, his nose and forehead were resting against yours, and you opened your eyes to be met with his.

“Does this mean that we can go on a date on your flying broomstick? You know, Kiki’s Delivery Service style?”

“Gyeom, those don’t exist.”

“Wait, what? You mean my entire life has been a lie?”

Yeah. This was gonna be good.

#got7 scenarios #got7 x reader #kim yugyeom scenarios #kim yugyeom x reader #got7 fluff #kim yugyeom fluff #yugyeom fluff #kpop fluff #kpop x reader #kpop scenarios #my writing

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shaekingshitup · 4 years

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unintended part three

A/N: I forgot I wrote this but @twistedcharismaaa reminded me that I did. I didn’t have the wonderful @glittermakesmesmile sooo bare with me if you be seein mistakes. Please lmk what you think! I’m lowkey tipsy sooo I may have to come back and re-edit this later lol. I lowkey lost my taglist. Imma find it and make a new one soon. So hakuna matata. Also, the quality of some of these photos are trash but we gone live. It’s better than Teddy’s wifi. So, we good.

WC: about 3994 (Sorry C!)

Warnings: mmm like maybe PG smut? Like for real I chickened out on that. So no worries boo.

Jayden’s OOTD:

Jayden was shocked that she had held onto her composure thus far. The exchanges that she’d had with Trevor had been spicy from jump. Neither had sent any nudes, but the innuendos and open ended interpretations on what would happen the next time they were in the same room left her mind occupied every night since she’d met him three weeks ago.

This was her second trip around his block trying to find a parking spot.

“Oo oo ooo!” She said throwing her car in reverse and slowly retreating from the stop sign. The owner of the parked Kia Soul that had just beeped was going to be getting all of the good karma today. She patiently sat in her car as the woman who vaguely resembled Gwen Stefani started her ignition and departed. Jayden parallel parked her Honda Civic SI 2018 coupe perfectly into the spot. She flipped the visor down to do a final check of her beat before she grabbed her handbag and the drink tray from her passenger seat. She double checked the address on her phone and approached the door.

Ringing the doorbell she did her best to quell any nerves that she felt. She instead allowed her mind to swim with thoughts on how good this man was going to look opening up this door. She could see movement through his front window and jutted her hip out a little further so that the slit in her skirt accentuated her leg a little more.

Trevor opened the door with a smile that held her full attention. “Hey J” he greeted. She cheesed back at him unable to cease the wrinkles that this man would be destined to leave her with. As her eyes trailed down his frame she took note of his pink distressed sweater, the grey joggers and the black socks which adorned his feet and completed his outfit. Trevor watched her watch him and observed the question mark which took over her disposition. She didn’t ask any questions outright but it was plain on her face.

“Hey,” she gave back with a deflated smile. Trevor opened the door wider for her to come in. They stood in his entrance and Trevor took the drink tray from her as Jayden removed her shoes and placed them on the small rack that was next to his front door.

“This is really convenient,” she noted as she allowed her soles to meet the cool tile of his floor.

“Yeah, this way I don’t have to worry about too much people bringing outside inside my home. Come on,” he said with a tilt of his head to indicate the direction they were headed. Trevor brought her into his kitchen which was adjacent to his living room. He placed the drink tray containing his coffee and her water cup on the counter.

“Thank you for this by the way,” he said, grabbing his coffee and taking a sip. He had never felt awkward in his own home before. But I suppose there’s a first for everything. He had been feelin this woman since day one. Now three weeks later here she was looking devourable in his kitchen and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Well one of us had to keep up our end of the bargain,” Jayden quipped. She replaced her deadpan expression because she wasn’t trying to start their encounter off on the wrong foot. “What’s this?” she asked gesturing to the large tupperware bowl filled with water and some meat and the assortment of vegetables and seasonings he had on his countertop.

Trevor cocked his head at her. “These are the ingredients we’re going to need for our dinner tonight.” He leaned in a little closer to her. He was guzzling that coffee down and Jayden was wishing that his lips would be attached to her instead. “But, uh, what do you mean I didn’t keep up my end of the bargain?” Jayden raised her eyes from his mouth to stare at him as she tried to determine if he genuinely wasn’t certain what she was referring to or if he was just playing dumb to mess with her. She blinked slowly and gave a small chuckle deciding that it was the former of the two.

“The day we met. You looked me dead in the eye and said that because you’re a nudist, you would be answering the door with a big cup of joe and nothing else. Obviously because we decided that I was going to be the one to bring the coffee, I figured you’d make a few adjustments. This,” she Vanna Whited to his sweater and joggers, “ was not what I had in mind,”. She reached for the water cup and attempted to quench one of her thirsts .

Trevor was caught off guard. But once his mind had processed what she’d said he tried and failed to stifle the laughter that was dominating his body. “Girl, you are somethin.” He wiped some water from his eyes, placed his cup on the counter and crossed his arms at his chest. Leaning back against the sink he asked, “So, you’re upset because I have on too many layers? I can be naked in less than thirty seconds if that’s what you want Jay. Just say the word.” There was no question. The thought was intriguing to Trevor but she needed to clarify.

“I’m not that thirsty.” Jayden said punctuating her statement with another sip from her water cup only to find that it was already empty. Trevor’s left eyebrow shot up in a manner that catechized her without speaking. She powered forward as if she hadn’t seen that, “I’m just trying to see if you’re a man of your word Jackson,”. Before the period had even been placed at the end of her sentence, the sweater was up and over his head. The joggers were next to go. Trevor watched her. He’d actually made her speechless. He closed the distance before them and continued on with his cheeky behavior.

“Is this better Miss Pierce?” He asked in a low voice as he towered over her, “Do I need to ditch the socks and the boxers next? It’s your call,”

Jayden couldn't even feign that she was unbothered. His appearance. The timbre of his voice. His proximity.They were causing her mind to cloud. She tried to give herself a little room to breath but she was pinned by the kitchen counter. There was nowhere to go but forward. So, she advanced. Staring up into his eyes, daring Trevor to make the next move.

The additional temptation wasn’t what Trevor was looking for. He stared back into her eyes again speaking without forming words.

“Show me you want this. ” his eyes called. Jayden licked her lips and fixed them into a smirk.

“I want you.”

It was game on.

Trevor grabbed her by the waist and placed her atop his kitchen counter. He left his left hand on her exposed thigh and used his right to hold her chin in place as he maintained their connection. He was aware of her everywhere and they hadn’t even done anything yet. The rise and fall of her chest. The wanting in her eyes. The way she fell into a submissive role at his first display of dominance. He was savoring this moment because he knew that whatever happened after this had the potential to be his downfall or his triumph. Hell, when it came to Jayden the possibility of both was also on the table. Quite literally. Whatever the outcome, he was ready to eat.

Trevor dove in without abandon. His right hand fell to her neck as he tasted her lips for the first time. She gasped, whether for additional breath or out of shock Trevor wasn’t sure but he used it. His tongue explored her mouth and she took this opportunity to spar back with him. Sucking his tongue and deepening the kiss she moaned. Jayden bit his bottom lip and moved to bring her left hand to grip the hand he held around her neck. She swiped something on the counter on the way up to reaching him. She jumped and bit him a little harder than she’d intended.

“Fuck!” Trevor hollered. He laughed into their broken kiss but didn’t break his distance to her. Their foreheads touched as they panted into one another’s space.

“Maybe we should..” Jayden trailed off.

“Yeah. Uh, yeah. Maybe we should wait until after dinner’s ready” he picked up glancing down to the floor to see the chili powder, salt and paprika bottles that had fallen. Thankfully none of them had opened up.

Jayden reached out to caress his cheek and guide his attention back to her. “Dinner ain’t goin nowhere. But, we can move this party from the counter to the couch,” she offered. Trevor didn’t need to be told twice. He scooped her up causing her to giggle and wrap her legs around his waist. When he sat down on the couch she adjusted herself to straddle him.

“It’s not fair that I’m over here in my drawers and you got all of this fabric between us.” he pouted. Jayden laughed rolling her eyes. “Are you gonna be a baby or are you gonna do something about it Jackson?” she challenged, “matter of fact, how is it that you’re not listening to any music right now?”

“Well, damn girl. I was waiting for you to come over so that I could be a gentleman and let you pick. But, we can forget that at this point. Hey Alexa, play “Piercing my Thoughts” playlist.”

The opening to one of Jayden’s favorite 70s songs flooded his living room. Surround sound. Jayden could not keep the smile off her face as she sat up in his lap and created a little more friction between the two of them.

“Bold. You are bold sir,” she laughed as she leaned her head down to kiss this man beneath her while Al Green serenaded their adventure.

-------------------------------------------

Do you want to make it better?

Do you want to stay together?

If you do

Then let's please

Make some new

Memories

Jayden woke up..satiated. She continued to lay there until she gathered her thoughts. Anderson Paak and Smokey Robinson were asking her questions. She was no longer in her skirt but now a large Black Plaid Ombre Shirt that could stand to have a lot more buttons used. She sat up to fix this and searched for her handbag. Spotting it in one of the kitchen chairs, she walked over opening the bag to grab the pair of underwear she hadn’t worn when she’d shown up. Trevor may be comfortable with the nudist thing but she wasn’t at that level yet.

But you at the level to fuck within the first fifteen minutes, Jayde? Asked her subconscious. Jayden retreated from the kitchen in search of the bathroom. She probably should have made this man give her a full tour of his place before she decided to climb him. But, hey. She was here now. She walked to the right of the kitchen already knowing that the living room was to the left. She came upon the dining room and briefly admired his decor.

This man has good taste. And not just in women.

The backyard was just off of this room and when she walked over the sliding door and took a glance outside, she saw a pool, a lounging area with a tv and a fire pit and.. a dog house. It looked empty.

“I haven’t seen any dogs” she pondered aloud.

“That’s because he’s at the groomers.” answered her from directly behind where she stood and Jayden damn near jumped out of her skin . Trevor, walked up behind her snaking an arm around his flannel that was draping across her body. He watched his backyard with his chin resting on her head. “How was your nap?” he asked.

“Good. Thanks for the shirt by the way. How long was I out?”

“Barely 20 minutes. You should have drank some coffee. I guess you were tired,” she didn’t need to look at him. She could hear the pride and the smile in his voice. Jayden exhaled loudly to cover up her smile and the fact that she was heavily inhaling his scent.

“You stay with the jokes,”

“You stay feelin it too.” he countered and licked a long strip on her cheek.

“OH MY GAWD! Where’s your restroom anyway?” she feened an eye roll. She was trying not to get too caught up over the fact that she was standing in this man’s shirt with nothing else on.

“There’s one right off of the front door.” She turned around fully facing him, in all of his nude glory. She quickly looked away and made a beeline for the restroom.

When she was done freshening up, she found him in the living room again writing in a notepad as a Dan + Shay ballad caused him to drum his left hand to the rhythm of the song.

“Tequila?” she mused? “This has been piercing your thoughts?” she inquired.

“Nah. That playlist is still a work in progress. I’m still tryna figure out some stuff. You ready for the rest of the tour? I just set the oven to pre-heat.

“Sure. But we’re not gone glance over the fact that you have a whole playlist inspired by me.”

“No. We not. Plus, we’re gonna talk about how you got one for me too. I follow you on Spotify ya know.” Jayden wasn’t trying to concede to anything. So, she switched it up.

“I see we’ve returned to the joggers.” She spoke as he stood from the couch.

“I want you to be comfortable when you with me. I know that you’re not about that nudist life yet. I peeped how quickly you made your way to the bathroom. Stick around me long enough and we can change that,” he took her hand and guided her through his home. Jayden adored how often his corny humor peaked out while he told her short stories about random furniture and events that had occurred in his home. He lent her a pair of his boxers too. By the time they made it back to the kitchen they were ready to get to preppin their dinner.

“What’s on the menu for tonight Chef Jackson?”

“Shrimp Fajitas. I already deveined the shrimp before you got here,”

“Oh, okay. A true gentleman I see.”

“So, we got some bell peppers that need some slicin if you want to get started on that and I’ll worry about seasonin the meat.”

“Aye aye Cap’n.” she mock saluted. They settled themselves into their roles at the countertop. Working side by side was exactly what Jayden wanted. She could steal glances without openly gawking at the specimen of man he was.

“So, about your playlist..” he opened

“What about it?” Jayden asked.

“What do you think? About the music I mean. I saw you put damn near every song I ever released in a playlist,”

“Woww. We are out here lurkin lurkin in these streets.”

“Says the girl who downloaded my whole discography. What better way to know someone than through their taste in music? So, what’d you learn about me?”

“Well, from the way you’ve been blowin up my DMs and some of the songs I’ve heard, I’ve learned that you are definitely in a lane of your own.”

“Hmm. How’s that?” she had his interest peaked.

“I mean you’re an artist who has been in the game long enough to know the rules and you completely disregard them. Nigga,” she said shifting her body and the knife she was using to cut peppers in his direction,” while most artists are over here talking about Versace, Gucci, YSL and Louis, you are over here flexin in CROCS! CROCS, my nigga!” she cackled and glanced down at his feet in case they might manifest just because she mentioned it.

“You cute when you laugh,” he answered unafraid to openly admire her. “But, you look crazy wieldin that knife. Watch it J.”

She rolled her eyes. She had just discussed his music and he wasn’t even focused on that. Too busy complimentin her. So odd.

“Anyways, like I said you in your own lane. I can tell by the way you choose to direct your own videos as well. You have some out there concepts. Not Gaga meat dress out there. They’re simply abnormal to the culture, highly intellectual and yet it makes sense.” she continued.

“Oh, so we was peepin the videos too? How far down my rabbit hole did you go?

Shit.

“A saw a few videos. I mean you’re cool.” she shrugged. Trevor felt that she gave this off too breezily.

“Uh uh. That’s that hard Jayden. What else did you see?” he asked as he washed his hands free of the fresh lime, garlic, and seasonings he'd been working with. Jayden should have been watching him as he’d left his spot beside her. Maybe she would have seen the goofy Spongebob knowing smile he had plastered on his face as he toweled off his hands and made his way back to her from the other direction.

“I said what I said. You got some decent music videos. Moving on,” she started and that’s when he attacked. He grabbed her from behind, causing her to drop her knife and tickled her like she wasn’t in the middle of doing the task that he’d assigned her. She was squealing and thrashing. She was trying to be angry but she couldn’t help her body’s natural reaction to laugh.

‘I’m gonna pee my pants!” she screamed.

“Nope. you’re gonna pee my pants. You gone tell me the truth?” She said nothing and he refused to relent until she was real with him.

“OKAY. LEMME GO YOU BIG CHILD! I’LL TALK!” Trevor released her and waited for her to say what she was holding back.

“I may have binged watched both seasons of Grownish, Burning Sands, All American and alloftheDisneyshitthatyouhaveeverbeenin.” she threw that last part in so quickly he wasn’t certain when she’d come up for air again.

“In three weeks time? Oh shit. I got me a stalker.” Trevor joked. Jayden threw a bell pepper strip at him.

“I thought I was supposed to feel comfortable in your house.” she quipped.

“That’s exactly what I’d expect a stalker to say,” he countered back. She was still as he chortled. And then she lunged for him. She chased him around his kitchen for a good two minutes until Trevor gave up because he was laughing so much. When he came to an immediate hault, Jayden crashed directly into him.

“Ow!” she cried.

“Aye, if you were looking for a hug all you had to do was ask J” he said, enveloping her in a bear hug. She just smiled at this dude who three weeks ago she didn’t even know existed. Now, they’d swapped some music, some knowledge and saliva.

“Stop thinkin about time and just let it happen.” Trevor said.

“I don’t like how close you are to my thoughts. Please back up.”

“Look from jump street, we was feelin each other and this connection. Don’t worry about the timeline of it. I can see your wheels turning. We don’t live by anybody’s rules. Like you said, we know em and then we break em. But we still succeed,”

“That’s not quite what I said.”

“I’m paraphrasing. I don’t have the script in front of me.”

“Oh-kayyy. Can we please get this food in the oven? I’m hungry” Trevor looked her up and down. “Hakuna Matata J. We gone eat,” he said licking his lips.

The two of them got all of the food onto a sheet pan to cook and retired to the living with some wine.

“Okay, I know I’m supposed to be here to peep alllll 200 hundred of these new songs you got. But, I’m also interested in experiencing this speaker system you have here. Can we watch a Netflix show or something?”

“I always knew you had good taste for sound. Okay so I got Amazon Prime, HBO, Showtime, Hulu, Disney + and I got a lot of new stuff thanks to SAG that hasn’t even hit the theatres yet. So, you can pick your poison.”

Jayden’s eyes widened at the array of selection he was offering. “You got exclusive content? Like what?”

“Well, I got this film with Issa Rae and Lakeith-”

“Say no more. We’re watching that one sir.”

“What about the plot? Or any of the other actors?”

“I’ll figure that out along the way. Plug it in! Plug it in!” she shimmied and sing-songed. The two enjoyed their dinner and film; but, most of all they enjoyed each other’s company. Trevor was amused at the small comments and natural responses Jayden had throughout the film and her review of the song choices was right in line with his own. However, the short debate that they had afterwards recapping the movie and Jayden’s disappointment for both Issa’s performance and the less engaging storyline that her character had in comparison to her mother’s was bynfar his favorite moment of the night. She was animated through and through. None of her hardness was at the forefront and although they hadn’t seen eye to eye on every facet of the film, the communication was healthy. They genuinely listened to one another, communicated and adapted their points for their side based on new information and perspectives presented and they were able to evolve the film discussion into some deeper intellectual ones where neither felt that they were restricted by the knowledge of the other to discuss these topics earnestly

"What's on your agenda for tomorrow?' Jayden asked as she nursed her third glass of wine sitting on top of Trevor’s freshly wiped down kitchen counter. Not only did this man have good taste in women, and home decor but he was intellectual, creative and cleanly?

TUH!

"Well, I was supposed to link up with this lil thang this weekend," Jayden balked contemplating if there was enough wine in her glass to toss at him, "and we were gonna listen to music-about 200 songs," Trevor saw her release her grip on the glass and relax, “but she turned out to be a stalker and we got a lil carried away on the couch,”

“You had sex with your stalker? That’s dangerous,”

“True. But now I know that she’s really feelin me and she won’t go anywhere else.”

“Aight, Imma head out” Jayden said, finishing her wine and hopping down from the counter.

“Yeah, right.” he said following her out of the kitchen and turning off the lights. “The only place you’re heading is to sleep,” Trevor said

Jayden yawned “I already took a nap. Not really that tired.”

“You’re a bad liar,” he said. “Let me help you out Sleeping Beauty,” Before Jayden knew it he she was being bridal carried up the stairs

“Left or right?” he asked when she’d come out of the restroom.

“Which side do you sleep on? It’s your bed.”

“I gotta be appeasing stalkers. I never know what they gone do next,” Jayden climbed into the middle of the bed out of spite.

Trevor crawled in behind her and pulled her closer. “You’re really never gonna let that go are you?”

Trevor held on a little tighter. “Nah”.

------------------

TAG LIST: @twistedcharismaaa @mygirlrenee @glittermakesmesmile @sarcastic-sunshines @chaneajoyyy @shewrites02 @ghostfacekill-monger @raysunshine78 @shewritestheblues @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @fd-writes @eyeknowmywrites @thadelightfulone @yoyolovesbucky

#unintended #Trevor Jackson #trevor jackson x oc #shaekingspeaks

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itsdearsuga · 4 years

Text

Grief: The Story of My First Major Loss.

Growing up, I only went to 2 funerals until I reached my 20’s.

My Grandfather, who was barely present in our lives. He was a man with his own set of issues, and we always had to stay in the car when we visited him those 3-4 times.

Then my late Pastor from Mowing Glade A.M.E Zion, who had mysterious health issues and eventually left us once the plug was pulled at a local hospital in Charlotte, where I once lived.

I was barely a 4th grader when both of these deaths occured in my life.

I always saw death as a catalyst for sympathy. I never truly understood it, I just knew it was a huge deal. If someone died in a person's life, I expected them to be out of school for like a month and for them to cry every 5 minutes. I just knew death to be this sad thing that was inevitable in people's experiences.

That was, until Granny’s diagnosis.

She was an avid snuff user, and growing up there was always a can of that black tar like substance that she spit out by the fireplace. I knew she spit in there but we always stayed as far away from that cursed can as possible. One day my cousin, sister and I knocked it over, and I honestly thought I was going to pass away my damn self. She used that stuff for over 50 years, some say since she was 8, and once I was in college, we received news that she had an extremely aggressive form of mouth cancer. When you’re a certified pessimist like myself from time to time, you’d probably hear the word cancer and think of the worse. But for me at that moment, it was a little different. I tried to muster up all the hope in the world for my grandmother. She cared for me and all of my cousins, she was my coffee buddy every sunday after church, I always made her laugh and we always sat on those rocking chairs on the porch, listening to the soft windchimes that clanged melodically in the countryside breeze, or played checkers in the cracker barrel before we were seated to go eat… I remembered every bit of love and hope she gave me, and in that moment of hearing that news, I tried to return it all back to her. In all the things she handled in her years, it couldn’t be the snuff of all things that took her off this world. She held our family together, but unfortunately, the more sick she became, the more tensions rose amongst my loved ones. I never was the type that liked to talk in my family. It was a Hi then Bye kind of vibe when I walked in the room. Someone could look at my sketchbook, say I’m going to be the next picasso or something with an uncomfortable amount of enthusiasm and then keep it moving, It’s whatever. I only held long conversations with a select few in my family, but I typically kept to myself with a straight face. That’s where Granny came in with my nickname when I was kid. She called me “Suga” because of the irony of me being anything but. I hated that nickname for a long time, I thought it was to tease me, but she only called me that until, well, she passed. Her sickness was a long, grueling time in my life and my family’s lives. They fought over who took care of her, my aunts and cousins, and all I could do is watch the drama ensue or hear it over the phone from a distraught cousin all the way from Maryland. In the spring of 2018, our lives changed forever.

“Her tumor keeps coming back, they’re going to have to remove and replace the jaw.” These were the words I was told about the fate of my grandmother in the next coming weeks. This was also after she had ridiculous amounts of treatment. The granny I once knew as being a sturdy weight, eating alongside us , full of laughter and life, grew frail. She was always holding her jaw and groaning. She could barely say much without it causing her pain. It hurt like hell to see. I took time off of school and headed back to Charlotte for a little while, promising to handle my homework while I was gone. I barely slept that week. The hospital waiting room was full of loved ones during the operation, and I’ll never forget the moment before she was wheeled back. I was the last to see her, and that was the last time I heard Suga for quite awhile. Nonetheless, we played card games, visited the panera downstairs and anxiously sat and waited. Eventually, the surgery was over, and we went home while she was in recovery. Once back at the house, I only heard horror stories. One aunt said she looked like Emmett Till post surgery. I sat and listened to the hushed voices of all of my aunts as they talked about how she looked, but my mother hadn't seen her just yet. We were both worried and that was the first time I saw her cry. I could only hold her and try my best to reassure her that it can’t be that bad, but we had our own issues on top of this with our living situation, that would definitely be another blog post for another day. I stayed in my grandparents bedroom, anxiously doing my homework and talking on the phone to stay up and sane, drinking energy beverages and taking smoke breaks all night. It was hard, and I couldn’t sleep thinking about the major changes to a face that was so familiar to me. We eventually made our way to the hospital. When we arrived, I was definitely surprised. Her face was extremely swollen, and it looked as though her entire face was fused under the nose. I said nothing and when I walked in, my mother gave me a certain look as though it wasn't necessary to stay. I stayed. For days. If I wasn't by her bedside trying to teach her little signs in ASL that’d she’d eventually say whatever to and not use at all, or talking to her about how much of a pain in my the ass my classes were, I was in the lobby of the hospital, typing my essays tirelessly and staying sleep deprived. Eventually we went back to MD, and I only saw her from time to time when we went back home those few times. She didn't talk for more than 6 months, and phone calls were difficult, but when she got the ball rolling, she called my mom everyday and I eventually heard my nickname all over again. I was hopeful, until around valentines day of this year. I was working on a painting for her. One morning, she got really sick, with something like the flu, and the chemo and treatments were already too much for her immune system. I was at school that day, bitching about my work and getting annoyed at my dad's numerous text messages asking me where I was. My mom was in Greensboro for work at the time. I eventually came home and my dad told me to sit down.

Now at this point, I did experience my fair share of death, but nothing too close to me where I was broken. Nothing, besides Kaya maybe , but that loss broke me in regards to my place of empathy. And that story is another one in it’s own right. But I was truly oblivious to why my dad would need me to sit down so urgently. I guess a part of me was in a place mentally where I promised to see her again, and something in my psyche was reassuring myself that she wouldn't go anywhere until I could make that happen. Another part of me was too scared to hear what he had to say. Sure enough, I heard the worst. She was gone, and in that one moment, my entire world fell apart.

The drive after was the worst part.

I thought about the blackberry picking we did if we wanted a pie,

I thought about the times she took my scrap drawings and framed them, telling me that even the worst ones to me were everything to her.

I remember all the times I would hear my Nickname.

And everytime I heard it in my head, I was shattered all over again.

This was 6 months ago.

Now, I think I’m beginning to understand grief a little better. It feels like a never ending one way street, With an occasional traffic circle that doesn't tell you where the exits are going to take you.

Some exits take you on a beautiful scenic route, where you feel a little more comfortable to reminisce on the better days with that person, and some exits are rainy and disgusting. No matter how fast the windshields are going, you still can't see the road ahead even with the high beams on, and on top of that, you’re getting motion sickness, and it’s fucking brutal.

Grief is never a straight shot. It feels like one for a while, but the roundabouts are unexpected. Sometimes they show up after around a half a mile, and other times, they don't show up for about 7 or 8 miles.

Either way, they’re a journey that almost everyone takes, and it's okay if there's trouble on the trip because we’re human.

Love Always, Suga.

#Grief #Journal #Lifestyle #Blog

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hellishmess · 4 years

Text

13: A friendly fight

June 13, 2018

Restlessness shook my core, I focused and zoned out all at once, entirely involved in beating the shit out of the punching bag hanging in front of me.

Time faded away, I kicked, kneed, elbowed and hit the bag in an endless set of motion.

Sweat dripped down my face and soaked my bra. My spandex has ridden up and stuck against me with a new grip.

Music played in the background. Songs with rhythms as restless as myself.

Sensing a presence come up behind me, I whirl around, kicking out.

Maeve was quick enough to block it. "Woah there, tiger."

I grinned. She was in wear close to mine, only she'd thrown on a tank top.

"Wanna spar?" She asked, eyeing me.

I shrugged, "Magic or no?"

"No. Let's just keep it physical."

We went to the mat, standing in the white circle that signals the ring.

Both taking a readying stance, I steadied my breathing, watching Maeve to see where her next move lies.

She started the fight, slipping close to deliver a sharp jab to the jaw while working her foot a second later, sending it at my side.

I angled myself just out of her way, using her position against her to successfully crack my elbow up against the bottom of her chin. I heard her jaw snap and slipped away from her.

She grimaced, spitting out blood. "Damn I bit my tongue."

�� I shrugged, already on the move to strike again. She went on the defense, dodging and grabbing my arm before I could pull away. I took a numbing jab on the inside of my arm and retreated.

We circled each other. Her hands raised to protect her throat and face. I did the same, using it to protect me as I closed in.

Maeve was fast. Bursting into a blur of movement she landed a box against my ears, before sending a high kick my way.

My reaction was almost instinctual. Grabbing her foot, I stopped her kick and flipped her off the ground. She fell with a bang before rolling to get back up.

I saw her rise and set another kick, soundly hitting her in the ribs and knocking some air out.

She drew back as I advanced, raising my hands to protect me from the two rapid punches she sent at me. I swiped my foot around hers, almost tripping her.

Suddenly changing the game, Maeve gabbed me. Grappling and pulling me down, she got on top of me. I blocked a hit to the eye but not one to my chest.

My lungs stuttered.

Twisting away from her, I released myself and pulled her arm behind her, keeping it still with a firm grip. I held her throat in the crook of my other elbow.

She pulled her feet under her and shoved me back, landing us both on our back. She wiggles free.

I face her again, slipping into her guard when she moves close, and jabbing her hard in the diaphragm before punching her in the eye.

We both stepped back, eyeing each other.

I advanced, tricking Maeve into stepping into my range with a kick and cracking her head to the side with a hard cross to the jaw.

She stumbled but retaliated with an jab that managed to clip my throat. I only had time to lean away.

I stepped back and worked my throat to go back to normal after suffering Maeve's brutal hit. Working air into my lungs, I watched Maeve advance.

She shot at me, landing a hard hit to the nose that made my eyes water. Still, I blocked her other attempt to leave a bruise.

Knocking her hard against the collarbone, she reeled back. Seeing her misbalance, I stepped towards her, utilizing our momentum to send her to the mat again by grabbing her shoulder and shoving her down.

She stayed down. Sitting with her knees bend and her feet planed on the floor,her hands on her knees as she rested.

"That was a good fight," she conceded.

I grinned. "You make a hard opponent."

She nodded the same to me. "Wanna go to the Nest* with me?"

My mind immediately jumped to Ana but I kept my face nonchalant. I shrugged, "Why so I can suffocate under the steamy sexual tension you and Shay produce?"

Maeve chuckled, nudging me. "No. So I can enjoy watching you struggle for find an excuse to talk to Ana."

I punched her hard in the bicep.

"Ow!" She exclaimed, rubbing the area. A devilish smile was on her face though, "What? You can't deny it!"

I roll my eyes. I can and I will. "Oh fuck off!"

"It's cute," Maeve says, "I think she'd be good for you."

I make a sound but resign. "Fine. I'll go."

Maeve stood, going to grab her keys and phone. "Come on then."

I raise an eyebrow. "We're not going to shower?"

She stared at me for a moment.

"I mean these are vampires. I've been here for an hour or two longer than you. I don't know if I'm cool walking up in there stinking."

She nodded. "Fair point. Let me text him."

———————————————————————

The Nest: Jesse’s estate, where he and his bloodline lives. It’s basically a high class vampire nest. Also the place that Aspen saved in a previous chapter.

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withasideoficing · 5 years

Text

Soon You’ll Get Better

Summary: Just after the Avs get knocked out of the 2018 playoffs, you get news from home. Tyson is there for you every step of the way.

Features: Angst. Tyson Barrie as a Colorado Avalanche

Notes: TW: Cancer; I heard Soon You’ll Get Better and sobbed because damn if that song doesn’t sum up my experiences and the experiences of so many. This one is based off the song and my experiences.

As always, requests are open, but I might be slow at getting to them. Be sure to check out my guidelines!

Word Count: 1671

You had moved to Denver for college, stayed because you fell in love, both with the city and with Tyson. You had settled into your career and life there. It was the middle of the first round of the playoffs. You and Tyson were spending a quiet day in after his practice when your phone rang. It was your mom.

“Hey mom,” you said when you answered. You didn’t talk to her as often as you used to. You tried to talk to her once a week, but with how busy your schedule was, it wasn’t always possible.

“Hey sweetie, do you have a minute?” she asked. There was something off about her tone. You had a sinking feeling in your stomach. You felt yourself tense.

“Yeah, what’s up? Is everything okay?” you asked. You heard a sharp intake of breath. You could feel your heartbeat quicken as anxiety started to set in. It was a minute before your mother spoke again.

“Your dad had a doctor’s appointment last week, just to check up on something that’s been bothering him. You know how he is. They found a mass,” your mother said. Tears started stinging your eyes. You spoke to her for a few more minutes, getting more details. Biopsy, potential surgery, chemotherapy. Words you didn’t want to associate with your father, words that terrified you. You spoke to your dad for a few minutes before they had to get going to his procedure. They had waited to tell you, not wanting to worry you.

Tyson held you while you cried. You were terrified. You wanted to scream. You wanted to hide from the world. Curse at the universe. Instead, you settled for letting your tears fall freely while your boyfriend held you tight.

“Just tell me everything is going to be okay,” you cried. He whispered words of reassurance as he held you. You felt like you were falling to pieces and the only thing keeping you held together at that moment was Tyson’s embrace.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------It was a couple days after Game Six ended in a disappointing loss for the Avalanche. You and Tyson were already planning on flying to see your family. Your mother called you while Tyson was at locker cleanout.

“The results came back,” your mother started to say. She struggled to find the words, but you knew. The gist of it was after the initial biopsy your father had to return to the hospital after a complication where further testing told them what it was. They were keeping him there for surgery after they had treated him for the complication.

Tyson found you curled under the blankets in the bedroom when he got home. He didn’t ask questions. He got into the bed next to you and held you close. It was the only thing he could do.

“I can’t lose him,” you said, your voice cracking. He pulled you closer, kissing the top of your head. He let you talk for as long as you needed.

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You and Tyson arrived in your hometown by mid-afternoon the next day. You didn’t want to go to the hospital. You busied yourself with doing chores around your parents’ house. Your mom knew you were in town. They had been able to schedule your father for surgery that morning and he was already out and in recovery by the time you and Tyson had gotten to town.

“How is he doing?” you asked your mom, eyes watering. You were trying to keep your composure, for her. It had been hard enough on her.

“Scared. The doctor said he’s confident that they caught it early enough, but you know your father,” she said. You were finding excuses not to go to the hospital. You didn’t go that night. The next morning, your mom was gone as soon as visiting hours had started. You made yourself a cup of coffee and sat in the living room watching the news on the couch with Tyson.

“What time do you want to go see your dad?” Tyson asked. You just shrugged.

“I’d rather not,” you said. Tyson frowned.

“What do you mean you’d rather not?” he asked.

“I mean I’d rather not go,” you said defensively. You hated hospitals. They were the scene of heartache and tears.

“What’s bothering you?” he asked, pulling you onto his lap. You just took a long sip of your coffee. You didn’t want to say it. You weren’t sure if you could.

“I don’t...what if something happens and the last memory I have of my dad is him in a hospital bed? What if they missed something?” you said. You were starting to ramble. You felt the sting of the tears that started to fall. Tyson took your cup from your hands, setting it on the table before he pulled you to his chest.

“Don’t think like that. Your pops is a fighter,” he said. You just sobbed as he held you. There had only been a handful of times the Tyson had seen you as upset as you were at that moment. He hated it, because there were no words he could say that would make it better. Nothing would ever take away that fear. It had taken hold of you and it wasn’t going to let go easily. The only thing he could do was hold you.

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He had talked you into going. You had taken your time getting ready that morning, but eventually, Tyson caught on to your stalling tactics. He guided you to the car and opened the door for you. You shut the radio off as soon as he turned the car on. You didn’t want to listen to it.

You barely registered the woman speaking as you and Tyson checked in to visit your father. You didn’t even know the room number. Tyson squeezed your hand and handed you back your wallet with your ID and the name tag. You hadn’t even realized he had them.

“I grabbed it before we left. You forgot it on the nightstand,” he said softly as the two of you walked, answering your unasked question.

“Thank you,” you replied. He pulled you close and kissed the top of your head.

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The two of you found your way to your father’s room. Your mother just nodded and excused herself to get coffee while you and Tyson sat and spoke with your father.

“Sweetie can you go see if you can get me some ice?” your dad asked suddenly.

“Sure?” you said, confused because the nurse had just been in the room and he could’ve asked her then. You had a feeling it was more than just ice that he was sending you out of the room for. You headed out to track down a nurse and ran into your mother along the way.

When you returned to the room, Tyson and your dad were both laughing. You raised an eyebrow at the scene. Tyson just had a big grin on his face.

“Not getting into trouble, are you?” your mom joked. Your parents adored Tyson. When you had moved to Denver, they were worried about you being there all alone. Tyson made them worry less as the years passed and they got to know him. He was the kind of guy they always hoped you’d end up with.

“Nah, not enough flammable material to cause any real trouble,” Tyson quipped. He had a way of easing any tension in a situation. The gravity of what was happening and what could happen wasn’t lost on him. But sometimes in the darkest moments, the levity brought some much needed light. It was one of many reasons you adored him.

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A week and a half later, your dad was released from the hospital. He wasn’t necessarily out of the woods just yet. He would need check ups regularly for the foreseeable future to make sure it didn’t come back.

As your family gathered in your backyard for a small barbecue, you smiled as you took in the scene. Your dad sat with some of your relatives, no doubt reminiscing about their younger years. Meanwhile, Tyson was playing with your younger cousins. It was a warm day, hot enough that the hose had come out and the kids were playing with the water and the kiddie pool had been filled up.

The sun was soon starting to sink low in the sky. Someone got the fire pit set up and you sat next to your dad.

“You’re going to marry that boy someday, and I hope I’m there to walk you down the aisle,” he said.

“You will be, pops,” you said. The fear of losing him creeped up again.

“There’s always a chance I won’t be. We won’t know for a while if I’m in the clear,” he said. You frowned.

“Don’t talk like that, pops. The doctor said they got it all,” you scolded. He sighed.

“It could be back in six months, a year. You know how these things go. I just want to make sure you know, Tyson’s got the dad seal of approval, not that he needs it, but I don’t want you to ever doubt that,” he said. You felt the tears welling up.

“Pops, is there something you and mom aren’t telling me?” you asked.

“There’s at minimum, a 50% chance it comes back,” he said. You could feel the pit of anxiety growing.

“All that means is there’s a 50% chance it doesn’t,” you replied. Your dad laughed.

“Always the optimist,” he said.

“Yeah, well, someone in this family has to be,” you teased as Tyson sat down. For the first time since that phone call, you felt like the black clouds that had been surrounding everyone were dissipating. A sunshower passed through and over a line of trees you saw a rainbow appearing. You gestured to it.

“Maybe this storm’s passing through,” you said, before taking a sip of your drink. You felt like things were going to be okay.

#hockey imagine #tyson barrie imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fic #nhl imagines

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capo-cedes · 4 years

Text

Taking a Leap.

INVOLVED: Mercedes D'onofrio & Nicholas D’onofrio. TIME FRAME: — LOCATION: Various; New York City, New York. NOTES: Mercedes and Nicholas tie the knot secretly after a turn of unfortunate events.

Mercedes sat legs crossed at her ankles as she looked to the woman before them, today marked December 1st and their wedding was set for June 18th of 2018. Which for Mercedes, felt like around the corner. As the woman explained the different cake flavors laid out before them Mercedes nodded her head slowly brown eyes peering into the woman’s own. “So there is, pink champagne which has a raspberry mousse and is topped with vanilla buttercream. It gets its name before essentially champagne is added to the batter prebaking. We have, luscious lemon that has a sweet berry compote. Grand Marnier, which has the cognac baked inside. Hazelnut Almond, which is a favorite and it’s filled with dark chocolate ganache, mocha buttercream, and raspberry preserve. There’s banana foster” the woman went on listing as she placed a slice of each in front of Samuel and Mercedes. “That is a butter cake with caramel-and-banana filling with a little rum and cinnamon” she smiled. “Last but not least, Tropical Guava, which is delicious if I must say so myself. It has fresh guava buttercream and guava jam” she told them. “Let us know which you like the best,” the baker said cheerfully. Mercedes looked to each dessert plate before she picked up her fork and dipped it into the hazelnut almond slice first.

Ignorance was bliss. Nicholas had always hated that saying. Well until this very moment. At his last wedding, he’d merely shown up, dressed and only 30 minutes late. What kind of flowers they had, who the priest was or what kind of food was present was a complete mystery to him. He furrowed his brow as he tried to remember if he'd eaten that day. Unfortunately, that kind of lackadaisical approach with Red was wholly out of the question. He actually wanted her to be happy. Nicholas shifted, adjusting himself lightly then rested his hand on Red’s plush thigh. She wanted a fairy tale wedding and he was all for it. He only wished he didn’t have to be present for the prep work. His expression was stony as the caterer laid the table with her creation. "I had no clue there were this many choices." He said, going directly for the cake filled with dark chocolate ganache.

Mercedes looked over at Samuel slowly, she would’ve commented however she felt jaded as of late. She looked back at the woman and nodded at her “it’s flavorful” she replied simply as she forked another piece of the hazelnut almond cake into her mouth before she moved to another slice. Her fork moved towards the banana foster cake and she actually hummed in appreciation for it. “I like this” she told the woman looking back up at her. She gave the woman a simple smile before she forked some more of the treat into her mouth, licking her lips and her fork as she did. “Good” the cheery woman said to Mercedes “we figure these samples correspond with your theme but we have plenty of choices far as the flavors goes” she told them as she placed napkins by the both of them. The baker's assistant placed wine glasses in front of the couple and she filled it before walking away.

A cold chill ran up Nicholas’ back even as he forked a generous amount of the chocolate cake into his mouth. He could read Red's mood in the icy augers that ground into the side of his face. Even if he wasn't looking directly at her. He chewed thickly, and swallowed after a moment, eyes wide. The flavor was delicious but the explosion of flavors was a bit rich for his liking. He didn't bother communicating his thoughts. He was here for moral support and he knew his opinion was of no consequence. He slid his hand from Red's lap and used the napkin provided to wipe his mouth, before he moved over to what seemed to be leading cake choice, the banana fosters cake. He tasted the cake with the air of a man who didn't care, to be honest he didn’t like bananas. But smiled at the baker and nodded his approval. Maybe if he played along he could make this process go by quicker. “Seems like you’ve found a winner.” He interjected, before he reached out and plucked the glass from the table. Downing it’s contents quickly to wash the taste of banana from his mouth.

Mercedes forked some more of the cake into her mouth, just a final taste before she sat her fork down. She grabbed her napkin and wiped her red painted lips, looking to Samuel again she said “not necessarily” in a low tone. She rested her napkin to the side and she picked her fork up, dipping into the pink champagne slice and she smirked as she did. She loved the taste of it and it was pink after all, what more would a bride want. However she had to include her husband to be in this process, a pink colored cake was to feminine for him, this she knew. “I like this one as well” she admitted kindly, despite that. “Maybe we can combine two” she suggested.

Nicholas nodded at her words, setting the glass down on the table. He glanced at Mercedes as she sampled what he'd classify simply as a strawberry cake, despite being sure the baker had said it had something to do with champagne. As she spoke about combining the cake choices. He leaned back in his chair clearly out of his depths. Deciding he wait and see how this was going to play out.

“I like pink champagne” Mercedes said personally “we can switch between every other tier” she stated before looking at him. “What flavor do you like, you choose the second” she said as she continued to finish the pink champagne slice of cake. She was going to make him be apart of everything even if and when he didn’t want to be. Considering he wasn’t holding up his end of the deal when it comes to them both finding a home together, she was forcefully holding him to everything else. Her small amount of payback, in the draining situation. They were to get married in exactly 6 months, yet indirectly feuding about home buying. He was getting up under her skin and making her far more moody and emotional than she liked to be.

Nicholas cut his eyes at Red as he sat up straighter in his seat. She knew damn well he could care less. Besides that he’d only sampled two of the cakes before him. He had half a mind to pick the dark chocolate ganache cake out of spite. Never the one to seem out of control, even if he was, he raised an eyebrow doing a quick scan of the table. He identified the one he wanted and picked up his fork, reaching over two slices of cake to get to the Grand Marnier. Cutting off a piece with his fork, he slid the sampled into his mouth. Savoring the potent taste of cognac mixed in with the sweet delight, he knew he'd found his winner. “I’ll take this one.” He said he was still chewing.

Mercedes continued to eat her cake before there was nothing but icing left on her plate. She was waiting for him to decide despite the fact that he didn’t want to. Licking her lips before wiping them she sat back in her chair, legs still crossed as she looked to him watching as he sampled another. “Is that your final answer?” She asked him. “Well, you certainly select cake flavors quicker than you do houses” she said smugly, before she lifted her glass to her lips sipping the wine. “I think we found the two” she told the baker happily. The woman nodded her head excitedly as she wrote the flavors down. “I’ll be right back in one second” she told them both as she scurried off.

Nicholas took another bite of his chosen cake, then laid the fork down on the plate, with a clink. "Yeah, I'm satisfied." He said, wondering where the waiter was. He could use another drink. He gave off a dry chuckle at Red's interjection and ran his hand down his beard. "I loved the way you compromised." He stressed catching her eyes. "Look at what we accomplish together." He said easily, giving her a slow deliberate kiss on the cheek. He snaked his arm around her waist, and grabbed her by the hips, "You could always move in with me."

Mercedes finished her glass and sat it back down, she looked to Sam sighing she turned her head at his antics. “It’s not funny” she pushed him off of her. “I am not compromising anything, understand that” she said angrily to him. Shifting in her seat a little she pulled her dress down a bit fixing it. “We can practice a union across bridges then….” she told him seriously.

Nicholas fought off the urge to laugh. She wasn't in the mood for his little games. He fell away from her dramatically, despite her mood. And even add a feigned hurt expression to his face. As she asserted herself ending with a slight threat, the corners of his mouth turned up. "We will not!" He said checking his cuffs. "You might as well put that thought out of your mind." he finished giving her a sideways glance.

At his stern comment Mercedes looked to him, trying not to let her smirk graced her face as it so badly wanted to do. She looked when he put his foot down and put her in her place, they were the perfect balance in that way. Pulling her lip into her mouth, she looked away from him again. “Then get us a house Mr. D'onofrio” she said playing off her amusement as she looked to him again tilting her head to the side as she gazed at him.

Nicholas leaned back in the chair once more and scratched at his beard. Finding a house that suited both his and Red's needs was a tall order. Especially because their styles in homes were so mismatched. She preferred mansions and he was content with an ordinary home. Something the police wouldn't look twice at. Licked his lips and looked to his wife to be. "I will." He said, leaning over he laid a kiss on her painted lips.

Mercedes looked to him again as he replied back to her, it was a simple statement. And she pondered if he really meant it, or if he really would. “Promise” she replied against his lips as they shared a kiss. “Promise me” she said grabbing his face, her brown orbs boring holes into his green one’s. “I don’t want anything plain” she told him letting his face go, she tossed her hair over her shoulder “but I understand this won’t just be a house it would be a home. A family home. Hopefully” she said, dropping her head to pick at her nails. “Compromise” she mumbled childishly, another smile gracing her face. He did that to her, made her smile and laugh over the silliest things. And even when she was mad at him she couldn’t stay that way for long, he never let her and she loved him so much for that.

Nicholas nodded, yes, against her lips and reached for the napkin to wipe away the lipstick he knew would be decorating his mouth. He raised his eyebrow and held her gaze. "I promise... Soon to be Mrs. D'f." He reiterated. He knew her checklist, it was what was holding up the process. He pulled her hand from his face and brushed her knuckles with a kiss. He spouted compromise, but was stubbornly holding on to his own unwavering ideas. He reached for her thigh, again squeezing it lovingly. "You want to have my babies. Now I think I like that idea." He smirks, half glancing at his watch.

As he promised she sat happily, once again getting her way in some shape or form. “As if you were unaware?” Mercedes questioned his statement, of course she wanted to have his children she already told him as much. Looking at him slyly, she looked to the door of the establishment, against her protest her men followed anyhow. And she was amused to see them try to act casual as they waited. When the woman resurfaced with a sketch of her cake idea Mercedes looked on in aw. “I think you wanted something like this?” the woman asked Mercedes sitting the sketches down before her. “Wow” Mercedes breathed with a chuckle, she didn’t see how the woman had done it within a few short minutes it left her in disbelief. “I don’t know what to say, it’s perfect” she breathed out to her looking to Samuel for his opinion.

Combining two mod households was going to be challenging. Nicholas' pension toward distrust of anyone he didn't know, had only been elevated by recent events. Seems trusting even those close to you had it's pitfalls. He laughed, fingertips against the skin of her inner thigh. "I still like her you say it. And the practice isn't bad either." He commented on a toothy grin on his face. This playful shit was new. But her smile was worth lowering his personae a little. He glanced briefly at the sketch of the cake and again, he didn't give a damn. But that look of joy on her face meant the world. "Gorgeous." He said simply.

“I bet you do like the practice” she said feeling his hand caressing her thigh. Mercedes licking her lips “you don’t care” she told him with a smile “I love it” she told the woman. “This is what I want,” she admitted. “Great! So let’s talk pricing” the woman said next and Mercedes shook her head “money is no issue” she shrugged “name your price and we will pay” she told her. The woman nodded “it’s about roughly 10 grand” the woman told them. Mercedes nodded her head at her at her words and smiled “okay” she told her.

Nicholas barked out a laugh and gave Red a nonchalant shrug. “I care about that

smile.” He added coolly. As the ladies spoke about particulars He glanced to her security detail. He made a mental note to look for a new chief of security for their combined home. Nicholas reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his wallet. He counted out roughly five thousand give or take a few hundred and handed it over to the woman. "This should get you started. Half now and half when the job is complete?" He said, with the air of a man that was right, even if he was wrong.

Mercedes smiled brighter at Sam as he reached for his wallet out of his coat, she was spoiled and she always basked in the feeling of knowingly being spoiled. As he paid the woman she leaned over to him smugly, batting her lashes. “This will make for a great deposit” the woman said as she received the cash payment unexpectedly. “Just to confirm the date is June 16th 2018?” she asked and Mercedes nodded happily “yes it is” she said confidently so. “Great!” the woman said penciling that down again for extra measure. “Okay” Mercedes said “thank you” she told the woman politely, she found herself being far more forward and kind to people these days. She always carried this superior attitude and though most knew who she was, she never acknowledged the people around as much as she did now. “My pleasure doing business with you, thank you” the woman added in return and Mercedes stood to her feet. Grabbing her fur coat she put it on before she grabbed her purse.

"You're too much." Nicholas said, rising from the table, he tucked his wallet back into his coat jacket pocket. He didn't say another word as Mercedes exchanged pleasantries with the baker. Signaling for the driver to bring the car around he took her coat opening it for her to step into.

Chuckling light, Mercedes looked to him “so I’ve been told before” she replied as she grabbed his hand. Both of her hands holding his one as she pulled him towards the exit beaming graciously. “We have to meet with the caterers and select the food choices” she said sweetly, she was buttering him up. He had no choice, he had to go, she was going to make him. But she knew he wouldn't necessarily like it either.

Nicholas quickened his pace, as he moved with Mercedes being half drug out of the building. He was relieved he’d made it through the cake tasting with his sanity in tack. Actually it had been a nice distraction. Or at least it was now that it was over. At present he had small fires popping up here and there that needed his attention. He needed a new number two but,there was no one else he trusted as much as Michael. "Say What!?" He asked needing her to repeat herself. "Love, you know. I'll be happy with anything you choose. You don't need me to... to do what exactly?"

Mercedes walked backwards on her heels moving for their car and she licked her lips in the cold New York air. In his words, she tucked her lips again “we need to set the menu for the reception. Deciding what everyone will be eating that night is important” she told him. She cleared her throat a bit and shifted on her heels, placing her hands into her pockets for warmth. “I guess I can handle it” she said looking at her watch. “Of course I can” she said again, she had forty minutes to get to her next destination. “I’ll go with Freddie” she said tossing hair over her shoulder. She looked back to see that man standing patiently beside the red Hummer.

He rolled eyes unfazed by the argument she offered. "I don't care..." Nicholas trailed off and stared at Red. He couldn't understand why things like cakes and menus were so important to women. He didn't understand, but what he did know was the delight that had painted her face two seconds ago was replaced with quiet, determination. His jaw clenched even as she acquiesce and he growled low in his chest, grabbing the collar of the plush red fur coat. "How long is this going to take?" He questioned, pulling her into his chest.

Sometimes she couldn’t comprehend for the life of her why he couldn’t just play along? She knew he didn't care, that was quite obvious. But what she wanted was for him to at least pretend. Why was she the only excited one? It put her in a position to think that she was in it all alone, which truly annoyed her. She wondered often if he’d done the same with his first wife. That thought alone granted an unerasable attitude, being Al’s daughter was a disposition that made it very clear to all around his family that they got what they wanted and if it wasn’t clear, they made it clear for you. Mercedes had been biting her tongue up to this exact point, she wasn’t trying to be controlling or a brat for a lack of better words, however she was dominant and so was he in his own right. It was really starting to piss her off. As he pulled her by her collar she looked up at him blinking slowly, she removed his hand and turned her head. “You don’t have to go,” she simply told him. Reaching into her bag she pulled out a cigarette and stuck it between her lips, Freddie walked over in a few long strides, he lit the end of her cigarette bud and swapped a glance with Nicholas. The guy backed up and moved towards the Hummer once more. Mercedes looked up to Freddie, and smiled sweetly as he used his own lighter to lit her cigarette. He was protective of her, very protective. And even now, she admired the way he stood up for her even when he was discreetly doing so to Samuel. Chuckling she pulled away from Samuel looking towards the man. “He doesn’t like when you rough me up” she told Samuel exhaling smoke into his face as she turned her head to look at him. She brushed her mink off and “I’ll go with Freddie” she repeated. “If I’m in this alone, I might as well do it alone” she mumbled in the cold air as her heels clicked in the opposite direction of her fiance.

Mercedes peeled Nicholas' fingers away from her with a look that held tinges of annoyance, disgust, and anger. He hadn't meant anything by the action of pulling her close. He was mad at himself for making her suffer. And for the space of a heartbeat he formed his lips into the beginning vowels of an apology. "Look I'm..." He trailed off as her long time bodyguard approached, chest pressed out with the look of a man who had and would kill for Red. Nicholas held the man's eyes, devoid of any measurable emotion. The rage and bloodlust he felt,tightly controlled by years of practice. He respected the man's loyalty. It was just what he'd expect from one of her protectors. To bad Red had just signed his death certificate. Did she just defend this man's actions? The pupils of his eyes pulsed with fury. He wasn't trying to be her boss, hell he couldn't. But this playful shit... pushing up a rivalry between him and Freddie wasn't going to work. He walked up behind her touching her elbow, "I'm fucking up your day. Point taken. But don't play this game, Red." He turned back towards the second vehicle in the entourage, the one behind where Freddie waited. Signaling the guard to open the door. He stop, jaw working as he waited for Red to climb into the backseat.

Mercedes pulled the cigarette from her lips flicking away ash as Samuel held her by her elbow escorting her back to the car they were standing by before. She looked to him at his statement, fucking up her day was an understatement at this point. It was a repeated cycle of her trying to get him onboard for a marriage she was sure he wanted. Raising an eyebrow at him she squinted slightly “game?” she asked him confused. She pulled her lips downward in amusement as he waited for her to get in the car. She placed the cigarette in her mouth and inhaled a long while before pulling it from her lips and dropping it to the ground. She stepped on it, her eyes glaring at Samuel before she exhaled through her nose and moved to climb into the car. Mercedes slid in and she sat down resting her purse in her lap, she stared out of the window before her hand moved to her head scratching it irritatedly.

Nicholas had already admitted to far more wrong than he ever would have in the past. He counted as the price of choosing a she wolf. Yet there were other pitfalls that had to be handled swiftly, and decisively. Two bosses were dangerous in good times but now... He exhaled through his nose, glaring at the assembled security. All were well trained and knew now was not the time to so much as look his way. He licked his lips, choosing not to respond to Red, there were too many eyes and he hated being exposed. Unbuttoning his coat, he climbed into the truck beside her, and fingered his beard, mouth tight. "What was that?" He asked, in short clipped tones. “What’s your deal, Red?”

Mercedes adjusted the fur coat around herself, she licked her lips slowly as her leg bounced rapidly in the back of the truck. She tilted her head out the window, looking around them. Inhaling sharply through her nose, she moved her hand to her chin and she cracked her neck her leg still bouncing beneath her. She was used to acting on impulse when it came to people and things pissing her off in life. But with him she couldn’t, it was beyond his status and hers it was because she truly loved him and she could never imagine herself actually hurting him no matter how bad he made her want to slap the shit out of him most days. “You are my deal” she said barely audible in the car as she gripped her purse tightly in her hand as she continued to look out the window unphased.

Nicholas took several deep breaths, exhaling into the quiet space between them. "Seriously Red, it's whatever you want to do. I truly don't understand all this I'm alone bull." He said as he shook his head confused. The heat stroked by the dregs of anger, caused tiny drops of sweat to slide off his face. haphazardly took off his jacket, laying it on the seat between them. "What about me Red?" He questioned. Trying to get a handle on the situation before it was blown out of proportion.

“It’s not just my wedding” Mercedes said over talking to him and she shook her head her eyes still fixed on the outside World. “If I ask for your opinion I should be able to get it” she told him. “I don’t understand what’s the problem with being involved just like you don’t understand the problem with not being involved. You just think I am going to do all the work and you show up?” she asked looking at him. “That’s not fair to me, this shit gets stressful” she told him as she rolled her eyes. “But I won’t ask you to tag along with anything else” she said seriously. “Wipe your hands clean D’onofrio” she said as she ground her teeth together.

Nicholas dropped his head back against the leather headrest, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “I DO have an opinion and it’s -whatever you like.” He groaned, forcing air out of his nose. “We could hire someone, Red. This doesn’t have to be hard on you.” He shook his head as a long forgotten emotion wielded up in his mid section. Guilt. He pushed up off the back seat, and whispered to the driver instructing him to change their route. He leaned back, sliding across the seat, as the vehicle changed direction.

Mercedes looked to Samuel and she sighed softly, she knew she could be a lot, but. Licking her lips she looked down at the ground as he suggested they hire someone to plan the wedding for them. But she guessed she always imagined she and her future husband doing it together. As he moved shifting in the vehicle her anger turned into sadness and she began to pout. For a woman who shot a senator in the head and killed his staff along with a little boy she sure seemed to fold into a little child in his presence. And she honestly didn’t know why. Much like Al he could be a bit forceful and that has always caused her to be withdrawn.

The ride stretched out as did the silence. Nicholas sat up again and tapped the driver instructing him to park in front of a massive mid century cathedral. He opened his door and was out of the truck before the guards could reach them. He pulled his coat from the seat and put it on as the wind ripped through his suite. He looked across the seat to where a forlorn looking Red sat and held out his hand. "Come with me."

Mercedes continued to hold her purse in her lap, bouncing her leg ever so often until the truck rolled to a complete stop. As Samuel asked her to come out of the car she looked at him, staring for a long while before she sighed. Moving to climb out the car, she gave him her hand despite. Looking at their surroundings she looked at him oddly, unsure of what they were doing here and why.

Nicholas arm grew heavy as he stood in the cold, holding it out to Mercedes. "You're a stubborn little thing." He commented leading her through the iron gates, up the stairs. He held the door letting Mercedes enter in front of him. He took her hand again walking up the center aisle of the church. Arches led the way to the front of the church where the dome ceiling became the center piece. Stopping nearly half way up the aisle He knelt down and made the sign of the cross over his body. He stood placing his hand in the small of her back, “Here.” He said, nodding to the pew.

Mercedes looked to him again, and said nothing at his comment. The comment wasn’t a lie and for that reason she didn’t feel the need to respond. She looked up at the building slowly, holding his hand still. She looked down at her purse with the gun tucked inside. A wave of nervousness washed over her, she tried to steer clear of these holy places, because after all there was nothing holy about her. She’d done things, awful things, God awful things and she never thought these types of places would accept her kind in. Her feet didn’t want to move but he drugged her in any way. She practically tiptoed, looking around as she did. She was waiting for the building to cave in on itself or better yet for God to step down on his throne to personally kick her out. When the man knelt she faltered curious to know if she should do the same, she bent her knee a bit but played it cool as he stood back up and more her to sit down. And she did, tight lipped. Her eyes looking around the place some more, she turned around in the seat before looking at him. “So…” she said eyes wide as saucers, her throat was dry and her hands her wringing at the chains that held her bag together.

"Relax." Nicholas coached. "Relax Red." He reached out and gripped her hands as they clutched her bag, holding onto it for dear life. He had the feeling she would bolt if he didn't hold on to her. "I never pegged you for the religious type." He said with a serious smile. The idea that she did somehow made him feel better. He scanned the front of the church looking then tilted his head toward where a man offered prayers. "Father Augustus Johnson." He intoned. "I've known him since… Since I was three. I stole ice cream money from my dad and he took my confession.” His large hand squeezed her’s, “Red, say the word and we can get married today." He finished looking at her. "I don't care about flowers, food, cakes, any of it. All I want is you. But rather we get married now or later my lack of care for wedding particulars, in no way represents or reflects what I feel for you.” Father Johnson turned spotting Nicholas and nodded to him respectfully.

At his words she nodded, the only thing that had her shaking in her boots were churches and Al. Licking her lips, “cause I’m not” Mercedes confessed “at least I don’t think I can be” she admitted. She looked to the guy in the front of the building and looked back to Nicholas as he spoke. At his words her eyes fell into her lap and she sighed sweetly “I know” she breathed out. “I get it” she replied easily as she looked back up at him. She knew truthfully she’d only planned this wedding for her family sake anyhow, she knew Al would be upset if she didn’t have a wedding or at least a public celebration about one. Yes, a huge wedding was a dream for her but sometimes dreams were deferred and simplicity won over the other detailing. “Sorry” Mercedes said as she looked to him again.

Nicholas bit his lip, “You're more devout than I am.” He said truthfully. He turned to her body. “Do you?” He asked fingertips going to the back of her neck. “I’ve been… dealing with a lot lately. But I remember that hotel room in Vegas, Red. I remember chasing you halfway around the world. I just want you to remember that too. Father Johnson cleared his throat, now standing beside the couple. “Nicholas, I’m glad to see you my son. I’d like to personally thank you for your donation. It’s helped a lot of families. Is there anything I can do for you?” Nicholas stared at Mercedes and leaned in kissing her softly, tracing her cheek with his thumb. “Well, Father, that depends on my fiance, Ms. Mercedes Francis.” he said turning to the man, “I have chosen a tigress on the high plains. But my actions have her questioning my love and loyalty. So, if she’d like, we can get married and continue to plan this huge wedding to assure in the knowledge that I’m hers. Or we can wait for this huge wedding.“ He finished giving her the floor. “I see, Ms.Francis. You’d be surprised by how many brides have the same problem my dear.” Father Johnson said, looking to Mercedes expectantly.

“I do” Mercedes smirked at him nodding his head “I’ve noticed” she told him, she was observant of course that came with her nature. But she hadn’t gotten to the point where she felt the need to dab into his businesses. But she could tell the stress and strain from whatever it was that was bothering him as of late. “I remember and I know you love me, you’ve shown me time and time again” she said happily. As the man of the cloth walked up to the she looked up at him, she wondered if he really knew Samuel. She wondered if he could sense or smell the sins on them both. Interesting enough she never bowed to another man that wasn’t her fiancé or father however with the priest she felt herself curling into a ball. As Samuel talked Mercedes looked up again, looking between them both. She cleared her throat a bit before she said “I know where his loyalty lies” she said quietly. She looked to Sam and then to the other gentlemen again, “I could wait for the huge event” she said “but I don’t mind becoming his wife today” she smiled as she stood up beside Samuel.

Nicholas masked his shock with a chuckle. He hadn't expected her to say yes, to be honest. Yet, he meant every word he said. Father Johnson looked to Nicholas, waiting on his response, the nod of his head set the older man to beaming. "Well it seems you shall be married today. Come." He said, opening his arms in a wide arch, ushering them to the front of the church. "I trust that the appropriate paperwork will obtain my the end of the day tomorrow. -For the books, you know." The priest added, with an assured nod. "Of course" Nicholas agreed, rising to his feet. He removed his coat and placed it on the back of the bench. Then offered Mercedes his hand. "I'm ready if you are."

Mercedes looked to the man and then Nicholas again, she knew at the end of the day that she could have married him back in Fiji but she again was doing what she knew her father wanted. However it really didn’t matter, because she would get what she wanted and so would her father when all was said and done. Licking her lips she looked to her literally, son-to-be-husband and she smiled again. Following the other guy as he escorted them to the front and she almost forgot the purse she was clutching and the fur she was wearing. She moved to modestly sit her purse on the ground and after she pulled the fur coat off her body and placed that on the ground as well. She looked between both men and nodded “I’m ready too” she told him with a small smile as she held his hand.

Nicholas' sure steps carried him up the aisle, towards his forever. His lifestyle made any nerves he felt undetectable. A blessing he supposed, because right now his soul was shaking. He smiled down at Mercedes kissing their joined hands. His last wedding had been crawling with people, yet he'd felt nothing. At least this time, he felt different even if outwardly he presented the same face. Once at the front of the cathedral, the priest arranged them face to face. "Stand here." he opened his bible and looked between them once more. Father Johnson knew the man in front of him and quickly opted for the no frills version of wedding vows. Nicholas could be charitable, and easily annoyed. "If you both are ready, My dear, my I have your full name?”

Mercedes stood patiently among the two men, she thought she would be nervous but at this moment she wasn’t. It was just him and her. As the man told them where to stand, she complied with him and did as she was told. When he asked her, her full name she looked to him and said “Mercedes Renee Francis”, it felt odd leaving her lips she never told people her real name let alone her full name. Despite that, she said it proudly knowing soon that a part of it would change forever and she’d no longer be Mercedes Renee Francis anyhow.

Father Johnson smiled, "Thank you my dear, what a lovely name." He paused, coughing into his fist to clear his throat, "Today we have come together to witness the joining of these two lives. For them, out of the routine of ordinary life, the extraordinary has happened. They met each other, fell in love and are finalizing it with their wedding. A good marriage must be created. It is never too old to hold hands. It’s remembering to say I love you everyday and it is not just marrying the right person it's being the right partner.” Turning to Nicholas, he gives the man a smile, “Nicholas Samuel D'onofrio do you take Mercedes Renee Francis to be your WIFE? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, forsaking all others and holding only unto her?” Nicholas turned to Mercedes and gave her a wide smile, he beamed. Something he rarely did. “I DO.” He said confidently, voice ringing in the cavernous space. Father gave the man an approving nod and turned to Mercedes. “Mercedes Renee Francis do you take Nicholas Samuel D'onofrio to be your Husband? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, forsaking all others and holding only unto him?”

Mercedes looked to the man as he spoke, going through the spill and she actually listened to the man. When he began to propose a question to Sam she looked to the tall guy, smirking at him. Pulling her bottom lip into her mouth she watched Sam as he answered the man’s question firmly. She smiled back at him, releasing her lip she looked back at the guy again as he now asked her the exact same question, did she take Nicholas to be her husband. And she nodded “I do” she said looking back at Samuel with a wider smile than before.

I assume you two don't have rings so I'll move on. Nicholas held his hand up, "One second Father." He looked back snapping his fingers for his guard to approach. The husky man half ran, once close enough he opened the box and presented the ring to his Boss. Taking the ring, Nicholas held it in his large hands, "you can continue." He said to Father Johnson, civilly. A wide eyed Father Johnson, swallowed, then began again. Wedding rings are an unbroken circle of love, signifying to all the union of this couple in marriage. "Nicholas slid the ring on her finger and repeated these words, This ring is my sacred gift, with my promise that I will always love you, cherish you and honor you all the days of my life. And with this ring, I thee wed." Nicholas lifted her dainty hand in his and did as instructed. Repeating the words imbuing them with all the truth, honesty and love he had in him. A weight lifted from his shoulders once the ring was firmly in place on her finger. Father Johnson, turned to Mercedes unsure of what to expect.

Mercedes nodded her head at the man until Samuel snapped his fingers and like magic there was a ring box. She had no idea, of course she didn't know how she could. But she already had a ring on her finger, she wasn’t expecting another one to be added today. As he slid it on, she beamed a little brighter at the thought of it all. She looked to her hand and back up at her husband with teary eyes. Mercedes eyes moved to the older gentlemen and she licked her lips slowly “I don’t have one” she reassured him kindly.

Nicholas wiped her tears away with his fingertips, easing his arm around her waist he pulled her into his side, tucking her under his arm. He placed a kiss on her forehead and gave the priest a cold green eye stare, "Continue." He said flatly, a touch of menace in his tone. "Oh, yes... no bother child' he said quickly. "By the power vested in me I now pronounce you Man and Wife. You may now kiss the bride." Nicholas placed his hands on either side of Mercedes’ face and kissed her lips tenderly.

Mercedes looked to Samuel with a chuckle as he slid his arm around her pulling her close to him. She looked to the man apologetically, her husband moved to the beat of his own drum. As the man concluded the simple and quick ceremony she slid as she looked to Samuel again as he held her face in his hands and kissed her lips lovingly. Mercedes kisses him back her hands moving to his side as she held him there basking in the feel, a lone tear rolled her plump cheek as she rolled her eyes closed.

Completely, utterly, deliriously happy. They lingered on the pulpit of the cathedral wrapped in love, full lips barely parting. Nicholas could have held her there in that spot, kissing her softly forever. Yet, the feel of Mercedes hot tear running across the back of his knuckles tugged him lightly back to the present. He opened his own eyes basking her loveliness, then lowered his head and kissed her lips, nose, and each of her closed eyelids."I love you." He whispered over her lips.

Mercedes smiled against Samuel’s lips as they continued to kiss each other love-filled. She couldn’t imagine feeling like this, it hit her like a ton of bricks that he was truly her everything and now she was complete. He made her whole. As he pulled away from their kiss, kissing her again, then her nose, then each closed lid she finally opened her eyes to look at him. She smiled again, she was crying but she promised that they were happy tears. Tears filled with pure joy and nothing less. “I love you more” she breathed out to him passionately.

“That’s impossible.” Nicholas smiled catching her up in a tight hug. Which was true. He was risking everything for the woman before him. She was dangerous. Yet, he’d walk that razor’s edge forever to have her. “Thank you Father.” he said reaching into his pocket he pulled out a reasonable amount of money and handed over without counting it. Father Johnson opened his hand and accepted the outpouring in both hands. “Thank you my son.” He said cheerfully. “Thank you and your beautiful bride.” Whatever the man said was lost on Nicholas as he focused on his new bride. “You ready to go Mrs. D'onofrio?”

“It’s very possible” Mercedes replied sweetly to him, as she gazed up at him fondly. As Samuel hugged her tightly, she hugged him back her chin resting on his chest as she looked up at him hearts floating around in her eyes as Samuel paid the priest off. She nodded her head at his question “yes I am Mr. D’onofrio” she told him happily as she continued to hug him close.

Nicholas looked down at his wife and kissed her forehead. Releasing her finally he took her by the hand and walked back up the aisle. "I guess we have a lot of things to sort out. Like living arrangements. Or," He stopped to retrieve their jackets. "We could go hide out for a few days?" He has a knowing glint in his eyes.

Mercedes looked to Samuel, she nodded her head as he grabbed their coats she grabbed her purse. “We do, I agree” she told him, hugged up against his side as they walked. “Oh but I love the sound of that” she said seriously “a few days alone just you and I sounds like heaven on Earth” she told him.

Nicholas nodded approvingly, He grabbed her hand and rushed out of the cathedral. The door of the truck already stood open. He placed his hand on Red’s hips, moving her in front of him as he ushered her into the truck. He leaned up into the driver seat and lowered the rear view mirror. Falling back to the seat she reached for Red pulling her into his lap. Just as the truck door closed.

Mercedes laced their fingers together as they left the large building moving for the car again. As he moved her before him, she climbed into the truck once more sitting down and brushing flakes of snow from her dress as she did. Samuel tossed their jackets aside and she moved to place her purse on the car floor before he pulled her towards him, moving her to his lap and she chuckled lightly. Kissing his lips softly she straddled him despite her dress, eyes rolling shut again as she moaned softly.

"mhm," Nicholas smiled against her lips. hands seeking the warm flesh of her upper thighs, he caressed her legs softly. he slid his tongue over the crease of her lips With a gentle push he entered her mouth wrapping his tongue around her muscles connecting them fully. His hand traced the line of the body. He cupping her full mound fingers pinching her nipple lightly before continuing his track sliding up the back of her neck, tangling into her hair.

Mercedes moaned again as his large cold hands caressed her warm chocolate skin. He slid his tongue into her mouth and she toyed with it lightly as his hands continued to feel every inch of her. When his hands moved to her breast teasing her nipples, the moisture between her legs grew and heat consumed her body as another longing moan dragged from the deep depths of her throat. As his hands wrapped themselves up in the length of her wig she opened her eyes looking to him for a moment before she shut them again.

Nicholas could feel her indignation even with his eyes closed and he chuckled evilly. Heat clung as he removed it from her mouth and slid it along her jawline eager to taste her skin. HIs once chilled fingers melted as her heat flooded him and he found the damp slip of cloth between her thighs. He used his knuckle to tease her button, circling it slowly, then he stretched out his finger slipping it between her fold, the fabric between her and his digit adding more friction to his movements.

Mercedes head rolled back at the feel of his tongue against her skin, “mm” she released sweetly before his hands found their way to her heat. Feeling him teasing her, she opened her eyes and looked down at him, brown peering into green as she gripped his shoulder under her nails. Biting down on her plump bottom lip she rocked her hips slowly against him, as his actions soaked her pantied even more.

Nicholas gripped her hip. His fingers bite into the fleshiness of her ass as she moved above him, in counter rhythm with his fingers. Slipping his finger around the flimsy fabric, he pulled it to the side, groan as her exposed heat glide over his long digits freely.

Mercedes teeth continued to bare down into her lip as Samuel slid her panties to the slide and began to stroke with his rough digits. She rested her head against his shoulder as she closed her eyes basking in the feel, suppressing a moan in the back of her throat as her hands gripped his arms gently.

“Is my wife happy?” Nicholas asked as he zeroed in on her button using two digits apply unyielding pressure to the swelling clit. Needing more moisture he slid his fingers between her folds to her hot little hole, slipping one finger inside her then drawing it down only to repeat the action as silky nectar coated his finger. He kissed the side of her face, as he slowly withdrew his drenched digit from her body and guided it back to her clit. circling it once more.

Mercedes moaned in response to his question, she shifted a bit her legs shaking. “Fuck” she breathed out gasping softly at the feel of his finger sliding into her warmth, repeatedly. She lifted her head looking at him pleading “stop teasing me” she whined in a baby soft voice to him. Melting like putty in his hands she dropped her forehead against his shoulder as he continued his mantics.

Nicholas smiled against her soft skin. He was being pulled under by the smell of the body filling the tight space of the car. Clearing his throat, “Pull over and get out.” He commanded, for the moment needing privacy. He should wait. This wasn’t a bridal suite, or their home. Yet, the need to consummate their union was a blinding itch, that needed to be scratched. Besides they owned New York making love in the center of town was fitting. He kept the pressure on as he felt the truck rolling to a stop. Using his free hand to unfasten the buckle of his belt, he unbuttoned his pants and slid his zipper down, releasing a small sigh as his manhood was set free. “You know I don’t like to play alone.” He reached for her hand slipping it around his weeping member.

At her husband’s command Mercedes tried to pull herself together, she lifted her head black up again. Moving to unzip her dress pulling it up over her head and placing it aside. At his words she smiled, hand stroking him gently before she slid to her knees. She’d always been a bit naughty she guess, adventurous to say the least, and spontaneous. So having the liberty of fucking him in a car on the side of the road was making her hornier than she thought she already was. She licked the head of his shaft teasingly, her tongue slid around it as she looked up at him through a full lash band. She licked down his member tongue sliding over every inch and every thick vein that was in her way. She teased his balls with a smirk, guiding them into her mouth her tongue groping them as she moved them around her hot mouth, she moaned deeply throat vibrating as she did. Releasing them she simply spat on his dick before slurping him into her mouth.

Nicholas eye shift as the watches the driver exit the car. When Mercedes slid from his lap removing her clothes he smiled inwardly. The tugged off his jacket, and tossed it to the seat. His tongue followed the lines of his full lips, as his wife’s voluptuous body came into full glorious view. “That’s a good wife.” He hissed, holding her gaze. She was so eager, as she devoured his dick. His once dry member shined with the lubrication she provided. The extra vacuum she created as she slurped up the over abundance of fluid that clung to his member, “shit.. Love you bae.” He said in strangled tones hands dropping to the car seat, as she weakened him to her will.

Mercedes put as much of Samuel as she could in her mouth, pushing him down her warm throat before she pulled him out slowly. She continued to watch him smiling around his girth as she pushed him back down her throat, her head bobbing every so slowly up and down his length. She moaned at the taste of him, closing her eyes gently she used her freehand to navigate him and to twist her wrist ever slightly. She didn’t want to leave out what couldn’t fit in her mouth, gripping the base in her hands she slid him from the back of her throat only gagging slightly from the action. After she did, she used her fist pumping up and down his length before she teased the head of his dick again, sucking as it feverishly.

Nicholas' eyes blazed as his mushroomed head entered the wet cavern of her mouth. It was maddening how many sensation she created at once. She was an artist and his dick was her canvas. He didn't have to push forward, or urge her to take more. She took all of him, happily and he had the feeling she yearn to take more. "Mother fuck." He uttered, pulling his full lips into his mouth, as his legs stretching out going slightly limp around her body.

She enjoyed doing this far too much, she was sure others would agree in their opinion. Releasing the head of his shaft with a loud pop she sucked him back into her mouth. What could she say? She liked seeing men crumble beneath her playful slow torturing tricks. Mercedes hummed softly as she bobbed her head up and down his length, taking most of him down as she did before. She closed her eyes again as she repeated this action several times over her hand still at the base of his manhood gripping him there.

Nicholas hands clenched into fisted, as she resisted the urge to touch his wife. He had no intention of cumming just yet. But damn her all consuming appetite for his member was making it hard to hold. In his greed, he pulled up slightly, hands going to her neck as he thrusted upward in time with her juicy mouth in sheer delight.

Mercedes felt Samuel’s hands on the back of her neck and she allowed him to guide himself in and out of her mouth. Pushing himself down her throat she gagged slightly by the action yet continued to bob her head in time with him. She looked up at his face innocently once more as pools of spit collected around her hand as she continued to grip him gently in her small hand.

Nicholas moaned as he plunged deeper into her hot little mouth. He looked down at her innocently devish face, as he withdrew himself from her lips completely, his thick head, catching on her lips as he passed them. He panted slightly, shaking his head down at his wife, “you know what you're doing.” he mouthed, manhood dripping warm spit just inches from her full lips. He needed a half a second to catch his breath. He new wife was fucking up his stroke count. He moved his hand from the back of her head, and drew his thumb over her lips. Circling her mouth, then using his thumb to lower her jaw once more. He slipping himself back between her part lips, sucking his lower lip into his mouth as he did so.

Mercedes looked to the tall man as he pulled himself out of her mouth completely, she bit down on her bottom lip for a second before releasing it. “I’m innocent baby” she said sweetly to him as she blinked slowly, lashes batting. As he traced her lips and then parted them she lowered her jaw for him, her eyes still focused on his. As he slid himself back into her mouth she relaxed her throat for him, letting him push his length back down her throat and she moaned around her mouth full.

#thread.#thread: taking a leap.#samcedes rp #thread: Nicolas D.

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hiirunakaarchive · 5 years

Text

— to act in haste

↳ wisely and slowly; they stumble that run fast. (pt 2), (pt 3), (pt 4)

◇ pairing: ethan ramsey x mc

◇ genre: angst

◇ word count: around 6000 ?? sorry lol

◇ warnings: mild-ish ??/ nsfw

◇ author’s note: hey everyone! i know today’s strictly for nightbound and acor’s comeback, but i was so excited to get back into writing since the last fic i actually finished was 3 years ago. sorry if i couldn’t wait till friday, but please give this some love, it took me two weeks to write 🤡🤙🏼 i uhh,, recommend reading this on a laptop since the phone format is wonky but happy reading! might post a second part if people actually end up liking it, so feedback is greatly appreciated !!!

prologue

Ethan Ramsey was a enigma.

For one, he never took cliche sayings to heart, and the one he found the most laughable was his own mentor’s advice.

“Ethan,” Dr. Banerji warned.

“That contemptuous smirk will one day be your own undoing.”

“I’m sorry,” the younger doctor replied, one corner of his mouth still twitching from amusement.

“I knew you were a sap, but at the very least, give me romantic advice that came from your own vocabulary.”

“Then I won’t be able to dumb it down enough for it to click in that thick skull of yours.” Banerji retorted, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he teased his junior.

Ethan threw his head back and laughed.

Appreciate what you have while it’s still there, Ethan. You never know when it might disappear.

Dr. Ethan Ramsey was a man of calculation and precision. He never believed in the concept of taking risks because acting without the basis of foretold outcomes was a dangerous and unworthy game to play; his ultimate philosophy.

He was resented for his misunderstood arrogance, but it stemmed from reasonable logic.

“You can’t afford to be scared.” He glared at the new batch of interns, his voice dripping with gravity.

“Cowardice clouds your judgement, and clouded judgement puts the life that your patient entrusted to you at risk. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Dr. Ramsey.” Came a chorus of replies.

Edenbrook’s newest doctors returned his icy gaze with their own, gleaming with vigor and determination. For a split second, Ethan felt a sense of fondness for them despite his own principle of not picking favourites, for they reminded him of himself in his first few years of practice.

In the crowd of adults, however, one woman stood out.

The way her face contorted after Dr. Ramsey spoke suggested that she took his words way more seriously than he intended for her to. She wasn’t fiddling with her badge out of nerves, or socializing with her colleagues out of excitement. She kept her eyes on him from start to finish, and he almost found it difficult to ignore.

Scanning the audience once more before sending them away, his eyes landed on her again, meeting her gaze briefly before Ethan found himself looking away first.

He didn’t realize it yet, but in a single moment, those eyes stole everything from him.

thursday, februrary 15, 2018

“Haruna Sakurai,” I read her name aloud in my office, scrutinizing her letter.

Transferred from University of Tokyo to Oxford with a Bachelor’s in Neuroscience, graduated at the top of her class in 2017, and dabbles with robotics as a pastime.

“Her pedigree is outstanding,” Harper stared at the bundle of paper, flipping through the pages with narrowed eyes.

“Sayuri Aoyama and Ryoichi Sakurai...Ethan, do you know who these people are? They-”

“Each won a Nobel Prize for discoveries in cancer treatment and immunology.” Dr. Banerji interjected, struggling to contain a smile as Harper passed the application to him, examining it himself.

“Met at the awarding ceremony, fell in love, and, together, have contributed impeccable research in the name of medicine. Arguably the most respected couple since the Okazaki’s and their discovery in regards to DNA replication.”

“Naveen…” I said, my poker face never faltering.

“How… like you, to be caught up on the gossip. The Kardashians weren’t doing the job?”

“Oh, be quiet.” The mentor chuckled as he continued to scan the application.

“I’ve met the Sakurai’s at a conference in ‘88 just before their child was born. Besides, don’t talk to me about the Kardashians when you named your dog Jenner.” Naveen placed air quotes around my pet’s name.

“I-”

“Do you know what this means?” Dr. Emery said impatiently, bringing her palms down on the table and redirecting our attention to the main topic at hand.

“To have their daughter at Edenbrook will do nothing but promote the hospital’s already sterling reputation. We have to have her.”

“I agree.” I sighed, pushing myself away from my desk and folding my arms over my chest.

“Ethan?” Dr. Banerji raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

“I never would’ve pegged you for the type.”

“The type to what?” I inquired, my tone embodying more of a demand rather than enlightenment.

“To choose someone based off lineage.”

“Excuse me? I- no. God, Naveen, never. There’s just something about this one-” I reached for the application across my desk and Naveen handed it to me eagerly, his teasing smile never leaving his face.

Flipping through the stapled copies of recommendation letters and awards of recognition, I stopped abruptly near the end, my eyes skimming over the page before opening my desk drawer and placing the application gently inside. Amongst hundreds of hopeful applicants, I pushed an alarmingly thin stack of paper towards the doctors across my desk, saying,

“These nineteen and Sakurai. Contact them and inform them of their acceptance. This one-” I tapped the wood of my drawer, referring to Haruna’s application.

“I’ll keep with me. There’s something I want to check.”

Following Banerji and Emery’s exit from my office, I opened my drawer once again and pulled out Sakurai’s application, muttering to myself in a low voice as I read the closing paragraph of her letter.

“Genealogy has already established irrefutable evidence connecting a child’s intelligence to that of their predecessors.”

“Though I certainly acknowledge my lineage as a biological factor in terms of my academic success, I refuse to accredit my own achievements as solely dependent on my pedigree.”

“Sayuri Aoyama and Ryoichi Sakurai are medical figures whom I am still light years away from perfectly emulating. However, in order to find my place in their world as even a speck of dust, I must first find myself. Rather than being addressed as Haruna Sakurai, daughter of Nobel Prize winners, to me, Haruna Sakurai, rookie doctor in the country’s number one hospital is much more gratifying.”

Reaching the end of the conclusion, I placed the corner of the first page between my thumb and index finger, bringing it back to the front. I returned the bundle of paper to the brown envelope from which it came and reached behind the back of my head to lace my fingers together.

I looked up at the ceiling, wondering audibly.

“Rookie, huh?”

wednesday, may 8, 2019

The idea of pursuing romance at my age would have sounded unfathomable to me a year ago. In fact, I was almost certain I never wanted to get into a serious relationship at all. But it isn’t until you desperately try to abide by workplace ethics despite undeniable mutual attraction and numerous instances of sexual tension that you realize you’re only human.

“I think I’m ready, Naveen.” Ethan paid a visit to his mentor’s home, sitting at his bedside as he unloaded his lovelife woes.

“I know I’m rushing headfirst into it, hell, I’m probably not even thinking straight-”

“Ethan, slow down.” Naveen reached up from his bed and rested an encouraging hand on Ramsey’s shoulder.

“I just...we’ve only known each other for a ten months but I will most probably spend the rest of my life searching in vain for someone like her. I can’t let her go, Naveen. I won’t.”

The older doctor responded with nothing but a lighthearted chuckle, his teasing nature never having left him despite being ill.

“You really ended up taking my advice to heart, didn’t you?”

Ethan couldn’t think of a better way to reply apart from raising his hands in surrender, laughing alongside him.

“Damn it, you got me.”

friday, may 17, 2019 6:15am

“Rookie.”

Strolling through the ward as I made my rounds, I recognized the familiar streaks of red and black as Haruna stormed past me, loose hair cascading down her back like dripping ink on tilted parchment. As she heard me call out to her, she immediately turned on her heel and greeted me through a plastic smile, holding her clipboard to her chest in a white-knuckled grip.

“What can I do for you, Dr. Ramsey?” She asked in a strained voice masked with professionalism.

In the midst of the bustling hallway, all interns having come from the lobby to hear who won the fellowship, mine and Haruna’s brief interaction evoked glares of suspicion and lingering, questioning gazes from the surrounding staff. Though I anticipated an overwhelmingly negative response to her achievement, I couldn’t stomach the paranoia festering in my gut.

We slept together. Repeatedly.

And no amount of constant rejection or futile attempts at fighting my impulses could undo what had already been done.

“Congratulations, and welcome to the team. I expect your contributions to fall nothing short of phenomenal.”

I crossed my arms, assuming my default nature and Haruna’s often cold and intimidatingly vacant stare softened slightly as she let out a small smile, ducking her head in acknowledgment.

“Of course, I look forward to working with you. Excuse me.”

She resumed her natural air of discipline and turned the opposite direction, beginning her rounds in confident strides as I watched her retreating form disappear as she turned the corner. Years of people-watching as a meaningless pastime and my own skills of observation as a doctor hadn’t betrayed me in the sense that I could tell Haruna was troubled.

But then again, she was never good at hiding her emotions.

4:57pm

Several hours had already passed, it being late afternoon before I encountered Haruna again. She sauntered mindlessly in my direction, not looking up from her chart as I looked both ways in the empty hallway. She released a silent gasp of surprise as I gently caught her by the elbow and used both hands to maneuver her into the ward under construction, which we mutually agreed became our spot for private conversations.

She raised an eyebrow as I looked over her shoulder, one hand still placed on her arm.

“In a rush?” I asked her, lowering my gaze slightly to meet her eyes.

She hugged her clipboard against her chest, one corner of her mouth tilting upwards in satisfaction before replying.

“Not at all, my patients this week have been nothing apart from pleasant. Treatment and the like.”

“Ah. I see.” I broke eye contact, feeling inexplicably bashful all of a sudden.

What are you doing? I thought to myself.

You’re not here to play Yahtzee, ask her if she’s free tonight.

I let my hand that rested on her arm fall limp at my side. Looking over Haruna’s shoulder a second time under the pretense of appearing mindful of our surroundings, she cleared her throat with avoidant eyes before holding her hands behind her back, rocking lightly on her heels. A painfully awkward moment passed before she broke the silence.

“Were you hoping to steal a moment with me, Ethan?” She teased, a playful smirk hinting at her lips as I choked on my own breath and looked at her with wide eyes.

“We are in a professional setting, Haruna. I would never-“ I began before I registered the childish expression she wore, obviously amused by my reaction.

A muscle in my jaw twitched as I kept myself from smiling as well, adamant on refusing to entertain her antics.

“No, that’s exactly it. In a sense.” I conceded, and the mischief in her eyes disappeared, replaced with her usual stern visage and...was that a grimace?

“After our shift is over, I’ll meet you here and we can go back to my condo together, is that alright?” I asked her hopefully and she returned my question with nothing but a look of repulsion.

“I don’t have any ulterior motives-” I initiated my panicked explanation before she sighed in defeat at my lack of humour.

“Calm down, I’m teasing. I’ll see you later then, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you as well.”

The mystery behind her proposition made my heart skip a beat, and my imagination dared to deviate between the actual practicality of the situation and my own lewd fantasy. Of her lips racing to move hungrily against mine as soon as I shut the door behind her upon entering my home. Of me cupping her face in my hands as I slip my tongue past her lips. Of her moaning against my mouth as my hands move from her face, to her neck, and down to her chest, roving her body and ultimately dipping into her jeans as her own fingers fumble with my tie and the buttons of my shirt-

Ethan Ramsey, you fucking animal, focus.

Haruna touched my cheek in my momentary loss of self and was unable to mask her pleasant surprise as I reached upwards and placed my hand on top of hers, turning my head slightly and pressing my lips to her palm. She looked away and bit her lip in embarrassment, releasing her fingers from my grasp and beginning to make her way back to the main ward.

“Oh, and Rookie?” I called to her before she made a complete exit.

She whipped around, her eyes beaming with anticipation as if hoping for something more.

“Be sure to pop by Mrs. Reitman’s room today. She’s getting discharged this evening and insisted upon saying goodbye to you especially.”

I smirked in satisfaction at my own success in lightly teasing her and Sakurai rolled her eyes, but the smile that formed on her lips betrayed the air of vexation which she tried to exude.

“With pleasure, Dr. Ramsey.”

7:26pm

The ride together was unsettlingly quiet.

We met at the incomplete wing as promised, but she came in slow, exhausted paces. A disturbing sight in contrast to her usual march; one of which the nurses on the unit described as similar to a catwalk. Dr. Sakurai was poised and somewhat aloof, yet her natural character brimming with charisma made her intimidating aura seem almost insignificant.

But there was none of that today. Her confidence, which everyone thought to be a well that never ran dry, appeared almost nonexistent as she trudged towards me looking distant and oozing fatigue; not from the work, but seemingly from everything else.

“You look bothered, Rookie.” I voiced my observation as she approached me.

She didn’t greet me with her usual smile, or shoot back a snarky response.

“I’m fine. Let’s go?”

“If you’re too tired, then this can wait until another day-”

“I can manage.” She interrupted, beginning to make her way to the elevators and to the basement parking lot.

Since then, neither of us had spoken a word. Between the brief moments I found to catch a glimpse of her, Haruna faced away from me and instead, looked out the window of my car, admiring the city that came to her in bright flashing lights. With the window rolled down just enough to welcome fresh air, she leaned her elbow against the armrest and closed her eyes.

My eyes darted to her resting figure as I caught the stoplight illuminated red, and the second I intended to be fleeting became more as I found myself unable to look away.

She shifted in her hollow dormant state, and her features previously hidden from my sight came into view as she turned her head towards me.

On the empty road tainted black, I mistakenly interpreted the casual eeriness of the night as serene. Haruna’s lips parted slightly as she slept and her hair, hauntingly jet black, fell across her face in poker straight strands. In that moment beneath lamp-lit streets, she was beautiful, and frighteningly so.

“You, Haruna Sakurai, are an enigma.” I sighed, leaning my head back against the headrest as I stared vacantly at the ceiling of my car.

Admit it, you useless coward. You love her.

8:02pm

As we pulled into my residence, I handed my keys to the valet, an eccentric old man who was a little too friendly for my liking, and undeniably nosy. Yet he held feelings of sentimentality for the doctors of Edenbrook because one saved his life seven years ago. I was that doctor.

“Dr. Ramsey! When’s the last time I saw you? Come home a little more often, you workaholic!” He guffawed and landed a solid clap to my back.

“Charlie…” I grimaced.

“You are the reason I don’t come home, you rotten old prune-”

“And you brought Dr. Sakurai along too! Always a pleasure, my dear.” He flashed me a wink and Haruna masked her fatigue with a gentle smile, nodding her head at him once.

“Mr. Panelo. Likewise.”

Maneuvering our way around Charlie’s attempts at small talk, we somehow made it inside the building and into the elevator, although a little short of breath. Haruna, a born people-pleaser, usually took the time to entertain the elderly man and his efforts at setting her up with his son, but after today’s brief meet and greet, she followed me wordlessly through the doors and pressed the button to my floor.

The ascent seemed to be longer this time, or maybe it was the ongoing silence between us that made time appear to go more slowly. She stood alarmingly close to me, our shoulders slightly touching and her hand hanging out of the sleeve of her jacket, begging to be held. As I spotted her beginning to lean her head into the crook of my neck, I reached out to take her hand, but the sudden ding of the elevator made us both jump.

Despite the both of us being aware of the moment we let escape, we left it unacknowledged as the doors slid open. I allowed Haruna to exit the elevator first, and I slowed my pace to match with hers as we walked to my unit. Reaching the door, I stepped aside and softly tilted my head in the direction of the keypad.

“Hah!” Haruna couldn’t help but laugh.

“You know me too well.”

Six familiar beeps and the click of the automated door into my flat made my heart race with anticipation, and I could see that it had the same effect on Haruna. As I opened the door and gestured for her to enter first, I saw her chest rise once with a suck of her breath before she stepped inside.

Her eyes wandered every inch of the room, familiarizing herself once again with her surroundings as I closed the door behind me. The last time she was here was last month, and I’ve been craving her since.

“Jenner, baby, are you here?” She abandoned her temporary facade to coo after my dog as I slipped off my shoes and hung my coat.

Haruna whistled a low tune as she continued to call for him, walking backwards into the living room like she was afraid to miss the sight of the pup bounding towards her in excitement. She lived for moments like that.

“Jenner, my good boy, come out. Mommy’s-”

She stopped in an abrupt mid-sentence as she felt her foot slip on what I recognized as one of Jenner’s toys, letting out a yelp of surprise.

I instinctively reached out, catching her and celebrating my inner relief as I felt her weight against my arms. Wounding them further around her, I looked down only to see that she, too, was looking up at me. Expectantly, and with our faces mere inches apart.

“—Oh.” Haruna breathed, registering the situation and looking to the side in order to avoid my gaze.

I placed my fingers under her chin, gently turning her head to face me again. She didn’t try to look away a second time.

“Dr. Ramsey-” She said under her breath, her eyes darting quickly to my mouth.

“Ethan when we’re alone, remember?” I muttered, beginning to lean in. Our lips were achingly close before she brought a finger up against mine.

“Ah, ah. No ulterior motives, I believe was what you said, Dr. Ramsey?” She challenged, and I withdrew.

“Yes, I- my apologies. Take a seat. Care to dine with me?” I gestured to the sofa and she indulged as I made my way to the kitchen, albeit slightly humiliated at this first instance of rejection.

From the kitchen counter I called to her,

“Do you like your steak medium or well done?”

9:14pm

I ended up finding out that she liked her steak strictly medium well.

Ensconced in the dining room and seated across from each other, I silently admired my handiwork as Haruna rose her fork to her mouth and beamed at my homemade cooking. She brought her hand to mouth to cover the subtle smile that formed on her lips.

“This is...delicious, Ethan. You’ve outdone yourself.” She said coolly, patting the napkin to the corners of her mouth.

“You don’t have steak often?” I asked her as I took a sip from my glass of red wine.

“No, my parents didn’t indulge much in luxury.”

“And your friends at your penthouse? Rumour amongst the other interns is that you five, the scalpel jockey, and occasionally the paramedic go out for fancy dinner every weekend.”

She scoffed at the discovery of strangers in her personal business, but fondly at the memory I seem to have triggered. But as if a switch had been flipped, the smile on her face faded as she bit her lip and returned to her meal, a solemn look in her eyes.

“We did. But some of us are...not on speaking terms as of today.”

My own guilt began to form knots in my stomach as I saw her expression grow more weary.

“Is this because of the fellowship?”

She laughed bitterly.

“When is it not?”

I eyed her silently as she picked at the small hill of carrots that formed at the side of her plate, pressing her tongue to the inside of her cheek in contemplation.

“I’m happy about this, make no mistake. Reaching such a milestone so early into my career makes me proud. It’ll make my parents proud. I know I didn’t come to Edenbrook just to play patty-cake with my own competition, but I-“

She stopped herself, and her lip quivered momentarily as she silently exhaled.

“I didn’t think I would be so unprepared for the consequences.”

I reached for her hand across the table, taking it in mine as she continued to look down at her feet. She tensed slightly at the sensation but didn’t pull away.

“Rookie. Listen to me.”

“You’re no idiot, and I’m not saying this to make you laugh because you know I don’t joke.” I told her.

“I’ve admittedly said things in the beginning to shake your confidence, and you yourself can recall all my moments of harsh critique. You were so easy to doubt yourself, and for a while I was concerned about whether or not you really belonged here. You’re sensitive. Appallingly sensitive, brash, and naive.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

“Let me finish.”

I looked at her and for the first time today she returned my gaze willingly, a piercing and penetrative stare that almost compels you to break eye contact.

“But in all those times, your wit, your inextinguishable resolve towards doing what’s right, and your near reckless selflessness proved yourself superior to your self-doubt. You deserve to be on the diagnostics teams for an infinite number of reasons and more, Rookie, and I would be extremely pissed to find that petty backlash made you question that. You’re noble. Almost to a fault. And your dedication, your natural character dripping with charisma, and your untouched innocence despite it all is exactly why I-“

I love you.

Yet the words caught in my throat.

I hesitated, and the three words I anticipated to declare to her all day disappeared from the tip of my tongue. It felt like sandpaper, and I brought a hand up to my neck instinctively as I cleared my throat, loosening my tie and taking a panicked sip of my wine.

“Ethan?” Haruna asked me worriedly and I reached my other hand across the table to grasp her fingers.

“Dr. Sakurai- no, Haruna. You have to know that I-”

I stopped myself again, and I recognized my reluctance to confess as nerves. Who knew that even after guest-speaking in numerous medical conventions and reciting speeches for just as many prestigious awards that telling one woman you loved her was all it took to stutter.

“It’s a blessing and a curse. Being number one, that is.” I bluffed.

Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me? What kind of excuse is that?

But Haruna seemed to have taken comfort in my words, quite obviously pleased at me having sung her praises for longer than two seconds. She smiled, genuinely this time and I felt myself relax.

“You’re absolutely correct.” She agreed.

“Except I wasn’t.”

I froze.

My fingers still wrapped around Haruna’s hand in an almost childlike grip, she pried them off before taking her utensils and finishing her dinner.

“So why?” She asked me, not bothering to look up from her dish as she continued to eat. The nonchalance in her query was alarming and the fact that I immediately knew what she was referring to invoked internal panic.

I stayed silent, choosing to remain oblivious to the context of her question. Despite my failure to respond, Haruna continued to keep her eyes trained on the food fixed in front of her, as if allowing me time to conjure up an excuse. I kept my gaze fixated on her as her fork pierced her steak, and a painfully long and uncomfortable silence passed before she decided to repeat herself.

“The fellowship. Why did I win?”

friday, may 10, 2019

“I won’t let you do this, Ethan. It’s not fair for the other interns!” Harper’s voice boomed across her office as her nostrils flared in pure anger.

“And why the hell not?” I argued, pacing the room in equal frustration.

“She’s an outstanding doctor. She’s driven and passionate- no one deserves this more than Dr. Sakurai-”

“Except for the person who came first in the rankings!” The female doctor scoffed in disbelief, ripping the list from the corkboard behind her desk and aggressively pointing to the name at the top of the sheet.

“In case it wasn’t clear, ‘Aurora Emery,’ Ethan. She came first in the rankings, therefore, earning her place on the diagnostics team. That was the condition on which we agreed upon. No exceptions.”

“This was the condition which you and Naveen agreed upon.” I corrected her, the lingering betrayal tinged in my voice.

“Sakurai is fourth, still one of our best, so what difference does it make?”

“Only everything!” Harper roared.

I quickly looked at the updated rankings with a side eye, and indeed, Dr. Sakurai’s name was fourth from the top. After Aurora, Varma, then Olsen.

Following her sudden outburst, Dr. Emery attempted to recollect herself, releasing a deep sigh before pinching the bridge of her nose.

“You know what, fine.” She hissed, still displeased.

“The fellowship will go to Dr. Sakurai but the updated list is still going up, and whatever chaos arises as a result, you will be dealing with the reparations.”

Harper shoved the single sheet of paper roughly against my chest before storming out of her office, slamming the door shut behind her.

present

“Ethan, answer me.” Haruna repeated, a little more firmly this time.

“I did it for you.” I said bluntly, failing to convey even the slightest notion of regret at my actions.

I heard her sharp intake of breath, and looking up from my plate I saw that her utensils, still dug deep into her meal, were frozen in place. Her lip quivered once and all I could do was pretend I didn’t notice, knowing full well the shallow breaths she took to steady herself were a failed attempt to keep from crying. And they were not tears of joy.

“Did you think it would make me happy?” She asked quietly, accusingly.

“Just consider it as...recompense” I answered, attempting to avoid her question, but the following silence, contrarily deafening, suggested that I only made things worse.

“Recompense.” She echoed, barely above a whisper as if she wanted to hear the word in her own voice. As if she was afraid to say it wrong.

“No,” I interjected, immediately realizing my mistake, “not like that. I’m sorry.”

I reached for her hand across the table but she recoiled from my touch and rose abruptly from her seat.

“What are you compensating me for, Ethan? Pray tell.”

She continued to glare, and I found myself unable to speak. Unable to breathe.

“That’s not how I meant for it to sound.” I tried to assure her, but to no avail.

“That’s how you made it sound.”

wednesday, november 21, 2018

I appeared at Haruna Sakurai’s penthouse in the pouring rain, half past midnight. She voiced her surprise as I paged her in the lobby, addressing her through the intercom.

“Dr. Ramsey?”

“Rookie.”

“It’s late. What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you.”

A brief silence passed between us before I heard the unlocking click of the entrance door. Stepping inside and unable to idle in anticipation for the elevator, I took the stairs to the sixth level.

Reaching the entrance to her penthouse, and Haruna whipped the door open after a single knock, as if waiting for me to show up.

“Dr. Ramsey, I-“

I took one large step forward, cupping her face in my hands and capturing her lips hungrily against my own as she stumbled backwards into her unit. I kicked the door shut and my clothes and hair, drenched from the rain, dripped onto her marble floor as the adrenaline from running up six flights of stairs resulted into me groaning in heavy breaths against her mouth.

A lustful disarray of lips and tongue, we persisted in our heated kiss as we tripped over ourselves in a backwards mess, hitting walls and furniture until her back lay flat against the glass of her living room window, the blinds up and allowing pedestrians below an inappropriate spectacle.

“Your roommates?” I muttered against her mouth and she smiled, grabbing the lapels of my jacket and pulling me in for a deeper kiss.

“Donahue’s. Now shut up and continue where you left off in Miami.”

I obliged. Grabbing both of her wrists in the single palm of my hand, I pinned them above her head as I removed my lips from hers and placed them on her neck. Haruna sighed in content.

“You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about this. About you.” I admitted.

I released her wrists from my grip and trailed my hands down from her arms to her chest, cupping her breasts as I kissed her jawline.

“That kiss in Miami left me wanting more and I have a feeling you knew exactly what you were doing to me the moment you let me put my hands on you, Haruna Sakurai.”

She found herself speechless as my fingers wandered over the silk of her blouse and reached under to feel bare skin, hot against my touch.

“Doctor-“ She began, only to bite her lip and suppress a moan as I reached a hand into her underwear.

Haruna buried her head in the crook of my neck as my fingers continued to work against her, breathing raggedly until she still found the energy to respond.

“Your perverted thoughts just couldn’t satisfy you anymore, could they, Dr. Ramsey?” She looked up at me mischievously and I pulled her chin to me in a rough kiss.

“And that mouth.” I breathed against her lips as she came up for air.

“The things I’ve imagined doing to that smart, pretty mouth-“ And it was her turn to silence me.

Reaching a hand to the back of my head and tangling her fingers into my hair, she pulled my face towards her again in a kiss fueled with fervor. At that point, we both knew I was wrapped around her finger.

“Enough talk, Ramsey. Show me.” Haruna demanded in a threateningly quiet voice, and I could do nothing but follow.

“Are you sure about this?” I clarified one last time, taut arms pressed on either side of her head as Haruna laid beneath me, both of us in the nude.

“I know how you feel about me, Dr. Sakurai, and I-”

Haruna reached up, her hands wandering from my lower abdomen and up my chest before cupping my stubbled jaw between her fingers. She silenced me by pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth, then firmly against the parting of my lips, slipping her tongue in the brief opening she found as I gasped. Reaching around my neck and grasping my curls, I was pulled closer towards the woman beneath me until my head rested on her bare chest.

“I love you.” Haruna whispered against my hair.

“And I don’t care about whatever answer you have, whenever, just as long as you give me this. At the hospital, during the day, we can just be Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Sakurai. But at times like these, at ungodly hours of the morning when it’s just you and me, we can just be a man and a woman.”

“Pretend that you love me, even just for these nights, Dr. Ramsey. That’s all I ask. ”

I said nothing as I rose from her chest and propped myself back up. I felt Haruna’s eyes following my movements, anticipating whatever step next I was going to take, and I found myself drawing my face closer to her features. I kissed her forehead, her nose, then her lips before bringing my own to her ear, murmuring against her skin,

“Ethan, for tonight.”

I felt her smile against my cheek and in response, brought a hand to the opposite side of my face, turning me towards her just close enough for the woman to reply.

“Haruna, then.”

present

“Is it because I let you sleep with me?” She goaded, her brows raised and her eyes ablaze with spite.

“Because while I insisted on confronting whatever—”

Haruna gestured around her.

“—this is, you evaded me like a coward until you decided it was convenient?”

I couldn’t bring myself to look at her.

She reminisced bitterly at that rainy night six months ago, scoffing resentfully as she shook her head at herself. She regretted it, and it hurt that she wanted me to know.

“Is that it, Ethan? Do you pity me?” She spat.

“No!” My head shot up from its downward gaze to answer her sincerely.

And the way she looked at me broke me.

She was inexplicably angry. Hurt, and the contempt in her voice was something I couldn’t stomach. Her eyes glazed with tears threatening to fall, but she wiped at her eyes furiously before breaking eye contact, as if she couldn’t stand the sight of me.

“Haruna, no. Those nights we spent together were something completely apart, I would never-”

“Then why!” She fumed, her voice seething with disgust.

For once in my thirty eight years of living, I didn’t have an answer.

Her breathing came in short, jagged huffs and she pushed her hair out of her face, calming herself.

“You know what they’ve said? The others?” She laughed, despite herself.

“That I slept with you to land that spot on your diagnostics team.”

I couldn’t find words. Dozens of thoughts raced through my head, fueled with guilt and apology, yet for some reason, my mind failed to formulate proper English. I didn’t have the courage to respond to her, Christ, I couldn’t even look at her.

When did I become so weak?

“People know about us, Ethan.” Haruna continued.

“And if it’s not Haruna Sakurai, daughter of Nobel Prize winners, it’s Haruna, Ethan Ramsey’s gold-digging whore. I’m sick of it. So, so sick of it.”

She couldn’t keep up her facade. Her expression, once contorted in pure rage, softened as she let her tears fall freely.

“I’m sorry.” I said. It was all I could muster.

“Sorry isn’t good enough.” She made sure to place emphasis on the last two words, and began to make her way out of the living room and to the entrance.

“Where are you going?”

“Home. I can’t stay here for a second longer.”

“At least let me drive you home-”

“Just tell me this at least.” Haruna spun to face me, unyielding to anymore favours I tried to offer her.

She didn’t trust me anymore.

“That night you showed up at my penthouse-” She began, swallowing hard.

“You touched me like you loved me. Why?”

We both knew the answer to that, yet she insisted to hear it from my own mouth and in my own voice. Suddenly, what I’ve been trying to tell her all day became impossibly difficult to contain. I never imagined that I would have to tell her like this.

But she deserved to know. I owed it her.

“Because I did-” I answered, before hesitating. I looked away, and Haruna’s gaze was still insistent upon me.

You owe her this.

I took one deep breath, before looking at her again. I stated in correction,

“I do.”

She smiled to herself in reassurance.

“I thought so.”

She shut the door behind her, her departure accompanied with a soft click. Once again, I was left alone in the resonating stillness of my vacant apartment.

I never thought I’d resent the silence this much.

#choices #pixelberry choices #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #open heart #pixelberry #ethan ramsey fanfiction #choices fanfiction #open heart fanfiction

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chemically-imbalanced-romance · 5 years

Text

The Precious Life of Logan Sanders

Prompt/Synopsis: “Honey, you can't reach out to an angel for friendship, that's what demons are for."

Requested by: @mirror2thespirit

Trigger warnings: Major character death ((it’s not supposed to be sad tho, it’s of old age and the character continues on after death)), alcoholism, abuse, suicide attempt ((almost)), bullying, neglect, sympathetic deceit, implied suicide ((not the major character death)), hhhh let me know if I missed anything

Word count: 3204

A/N: This is a fic I wrote a while ago (Through the 4th to the 9th of November, 2018 to be specific) but it got deleted when I deleted my weekly analogical blog. I honestly think it’s pretty great, so I’m putting it back here. Mind the trigger warnings

Reblogs > Likes

All his life, Logan had been followed by a figure shrouded in white mist. They were more than human, and showed up every time Logan needed protection or comfort. They looked normal by all means, with rich black skin and bright brown eyes, but they never aged and a faint blue glow created a halo atop their head. Logan tried pointing them out before to his older brother, but Roman just scoffed and told him he was seeing things; the figure winked.

Maybe Logan wouldn’t be so obsessed with him if he had something else to focus on. His parents had chased away anybody willing to give him attention, and he disappointed anybody willing to stick around by not being more like Roman. That made sense- Roman and Logan coped in very different ways, and it wasn’t Roman’s fault that his way of coping was just better.

Logan liked losing himself in books, wiki pages, research. He liked to leave his body and stay somewhere else for a while. Roman liked to lose himself in other people- boys, specifically. He was constantly skipping school and staying out late, almost never around the house anymore. The first time he skipped school, their dad gave him a black eye, and then he did it again and their parents gave up. Logan tried skipping school, and his dad beat him so bad he couldn’t get out of bed all weekend. Roman stayed with him while he recovered, bringing him food and playing video games, but Logan barely looked at him.

It wasn’t Roman’s fault people treated him better. It wasn’t Roman’s fault he got it easier. It wasn’t Roman’s fault that Logan hated him.

He’d had enough.

As he laid in bed, his eye throbbing and his chest contracting with sobs, he decided he was going to talk to this person.

He tried three times before he was stopped.

First Attempt: Caught off guard

Logan watched his ratty sneakers step on the cracks in the sidewalk as he made his way to school the next morning. The sun peeked over the horizon, painting the sky cerulean. The concealer and foundation Roman insisted on putting on stuck awkwardly to his face, even though Roman promised he’d get used to it.

He glanced up and faltered- the boy was sitting backwards on a bench facing away from him in a nearby park, his chin rested over his folded arms, smiling. Logan glanced around, but he was the only one in the street.

He started towards him just as a half dozen books attacked his ankles. He smacked against the pavement painfully as his classmates rode by on their bikes, laughter echoing down the street. Logan glanced down- It was the book their English teacher assigned an essay on.

Hot shame curled in Logan’s gut, and he started to curl up with tears in his eyes when something crashed. He looked up just in time to see each bike slamming into each other like dominos, the kids laying in a pile of bruised bodies.

Logan looked back to the bench, but the boy was gone.

Second Attempt: The direct approach

Logan glared at his textbook, his hands curled into fists. It was close to 2am, and he was damn near ready to scream. He had a test the next day in English, and he was nowhere near ready for it. He was already failing the class. He didn’t want to know what would happen if his parents got called in for his grades. That happened one time in middle school, and they were much more lenient then.

Something snapped outside, and his head shot up. He leaned over his desk to peek out the window of his above-ground basement bedroom.

The boy drifted delicately around Logan’s front yard, moonlight sparkling against his skin, the white fabric of his dress flowing over his elbows, hips, and knees. A vibrant purple storm cloud followed, raining down on him as giggles echoed in Logan’s head, pastel blue and white dots following wherever he stepped.

Logan moved before his brain caught up to what he was doing; he sprinted out of the house, stopping in the doorway, and the boy looked up at him with what Logan could only describe as bliss. He started moving, bare feet crushing the wet flowers, and opened his mouth to speak- and the boy was gone.

Logan blinked. He hadn’t looked away or closed his eyes; he was suddenly charging at nothing.

Frustrated, he went back inside, but before they left for school the next morning, Roman pointed out the flowers.

Attempt Three: The indirect approach

After school, Logan sat on the same park bench as before. He put his headphones in and waited. He got halfway through the Les Mis soundtrack, the sun long since set, before he heard him.

“Go home,” a soft voice whispered in his ear. It could have been the wind. There was no one there. “It’s late. It’s dangerous. Go home.”

He didn’t move.

“Logan. You can’t be here. You know that.”

Logan squeezed his eyes shut. “Why not?”

“It isn’t safe.”

“Take me home.”

The boy chuckled. “I can’t do that.”

Logan clenched his fists; he was being mocked. “I’m not leaving until you speak to me,” he snapped. “Tell me what you want.”

Silence stretched out long enough for Logan to wonder whether he was even still there, and then he spoke again. “You’re very clever, Logan, but this isn’t going to work.”

“Why not?”

“It can’t.”

Logan’s entire body tensed, his mind screaming, as footsteps sounded behind him. He was too scared to move.

“I’ll distract them.”

He didn’t look back, sprinting all the way home.

Attempt Four: The desperate approach

Logan buried his face in his hands. His parents continued screaming at each other upstairs as if they were the only ones who could hear it. He wished they’d just stop.

He straightened up and snatched the bottle of pills from his nightstand.

He wasn’t actually trying to talk to Patton this time. He’d… Given up. He’d started thinking about why he was really there, and what he had done. Why he stayed, even when he didn’t want to. He couldn’t come up with any answers.

He grabbed the bottle of vodka he’d stolen from his parents and popped open the bottle of pills. He closed his eyes, taking in a shuddering breath.

He was very aware of someone’s presence.

“Go away.”

“I don’t think I’m who you think I am.”

Logan snapped his eyes open. The figure standing in front of him looked no older than his counterpart, but with milky white skin and shrouded in black dust. Little black horns stuck out from his vibrant purple hair.

Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “You’re not…”

“No.” He nodded to the bottle of pills. “You might want to put that down.”

Logan blinked, and shook his head.

He sighed. “C’mon, man. Just put it down and talk to me for a moment.” Logan just stared. “Fine, keep it, if it makes you feel better. At least put the lid back on, though, yeah? It’ll at least make me feel better.”

Logan did so, and the boy did relax a bit. The demon drifted around the room, lavender combat boots pressing into the carpet as he inspected everything. “So you’re Logan, right?” He picked up the finished Rubix cube on Logan’s desk. “If not, this is one goddamn coincidence- not a bad one, though.”

“I’m Logan.”

“Cool.” He set it down. “I’m Virgil.”

Logan looked at him, beyond confused. “What are you?”

Virgil grinned. “That’s not very nice.”

“Just tell me!”

He sighed. “Alright, yeah, I get it. Not the best time for jokes.” He sat next to Logan on the bed, emitting frost like a freezer. “What were you doing trying to talk to Patton?”

“Patton is…”

“Right. The guy in white.”

“I just…” Logan blushed. “I’m sick of being alone, okay?”

Virgil grinned. “Honey, you can't reach out to an angel for friendship, that's what demons are for."

“I don’t understand,” he said in annoyance.

Virgil nudged him. “Patton’s not going to be able to help you. At least not for a while, as far as I’m concerned.”

Logan’s chest grew tight, his voice strained. “Can you just make sense?”

He rose his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright.” He dropped his hands in his lap, meeting Logan’s eyes. “Do you remember when the bookshelf fell?”

Logan looked away, guilt twisting in his stomach. “Yes,” he said quietly.

When Logan was twelve, he got home from school to find his dad home alone, drunk. He was mad that Logan hadn’t emptied the dishwasher before he left, even though the middle school was miles away and Logan had to wake up at four a.m. just to get ready and walk there on time. He would have hit him- If the bookshelf hadn’t fallen and broken his arm.

“That was Patton.”

Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “What… No, it wasn’t.”

“And when you stayed late for detention in ninth grade, because you got too many tardies? You were on your way to the parking lot when that group of juniors stopped you.”

The kids had been about to hurt Logan, and make him late getting back home, something his parents didn’t take lightly. They didn’t get the chance to do anything, though, because a teacher leaving for the day passed them, and he was able to follow her out of the building.

“I remember,” Logan mumbled.

“And then, last week. With the kids on the bike.” Logan just nodded, and Virgil nudged him. “All those days you thought you’d off yourself if you had to go to school, and it was cancelled, or ended up being easier than you thought? Every time you thought it couldn’t get any worse, and then it got better. Do you remember that, Logan?”

“It was Patton?” He asked quietly.

Virgil smiled, a little pride in his voice. “Ever since the beginning.”

Logan clenched his fists. “If he’s been here the entire time, why hasn’t he said anything?!” He glared at Virgil. “He can’t fix my problems by breaking my father’s arm and getting me a few days off school!” Logan jumped to his feet, throwing the pills on the bed. “I didn’t want much, I just wanted someone to talk to! Why couldn’t he just do that?!” Logan whipped around. “Why is that so much harder?!”

Virgil was unfazed. “He can’t get near you.”

“Why?”

“Because it’ll kill you.”

Logan blinked. He swallowed. “I don’t understand.”

Virgil clasped his hands together, playing with his sleeves. “Patton… He’s been protecting you, yeah. But if he can’t protect you anymore, then it’s time for, well, for you to go. That’s his job, too.”

“What are you here for, then?” He quickly realized he wasn’t dying tonight.

Virgil gave a lopsided smile. “We’re kind of a duo. And since I won’t kill you by talking to you, and since I’ve kind of got a better grip on things, I can come in for a more direct approach.”

Logan eyed the bottle, nauseous.

Virgil stood, gripping Logan’s shoulders. “Listen. Patton wouldn’t let me come in here if he thought there was no chance. He would give you your do over and move on.” He bit his lip, hesitating. “Some people don’t get a happy ending. But they get to try again- everyone does, as many times as they want. But I don’t expose myself to people just for the hell of it. I didn’t come in here just to let you give up at seventeen fucking years old.”

Logan squeezed his eyes shut as they filled with tears, gripping Virgil’s hands. “I don’t think I can do it.”

Virgil eased Logan back onto the bed, kneeling between his legs. “Logan. Look at me. What do you want? If you just went to bed, what would you want to do when you woke up?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I-”

“It doesn’t have to be realistic. It can be anything. I don’t care if you want to live on fucking Mars. Why are you here?”

Logan cracked his watery eyes open. “I just don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“Then make sure that happens,” he insisted. “It won’t be tomorrow, or next week, and it’s not going to get any easier any time soon. But Patton can be pretty stubborn, and next time you pick up those pills for any reason other than a headache, he’ll smite you.”

Logan laughed weakly, wiping his eyes. “Isn’t that counterproductive?”

“Hush. You’re not going to be alone forever, Logan. Because you aren’t a bad person.”

“Does everyone have… You guys?”

“They do.” Virgil winked. “They’re just not all clever enough to see them.”

Logan glared. “Are you flirting with me?”

He stood. “Absolutely not. We may not be human anymore, but Pat and I are as monogamous as they come.”

“Will I ever meet him?”

Virgil shrugged one shoulder. “When you’re ready.”

The chill of the room began slowly seeping out, and Logan panicked, jumping up and crying, “Wait!”

The frost settled back into the room, Virgil looking at him curiously. “What?”

“I…” He slumped, looking away. “I don’t want you to leave just yet. Please?”

“Alright.” Virgil settled himself on the bed, against the wall. “You put that shit away, I’ll stay right here, okay?” Logan hesitated. “Go on. I promise.”

Logan gave in, snatching up the pills and the alcohol, rushing to sneak upstairs, put them away, and come back down. Virgil was still right where he left him.

They laid down a few inches apart, facing each other. Logan shivered as he slowly fell asleep, Virgil’s presence reminding him of safe things.

He woke up the next morning with the sunlight streaming through his bare window. He rolled over in his empty bed, blinking in confusion at his nightstand. He ran his fingers over the carvings, reading Don’t fuck me over xx.

It was Saturday morning.

He could do anything.

He went to the library.

xxx

Logan was well into his nineties when he finally met Patton. Too young, Virgil said, although he said that with everyone. At Virgil’s suggestion, Logan had dedicated his life to teaching, to discovery. His research led to several breakthroughs in medicine, and he discovered several highly effective means of therapy for those with social disorders.

While he was dedicated to academics, he didn’t forget why he stayed. He made an effort not to be such a recluse, something that hurt him at the start- the kids in his hometown weren’t kind.

So he moved. He went to the city, the same one that held the college he got a scholarship for. He knew the likelihood of there being nothing at all for him was low, and found a book club for mystery readers that met every Saturday. It was awkward, and painful, but he got used to making conversation and having positive attention on him.

On campus, he met Remy when he nearly spilled his coffee all over Logan first thing in the morning. Logan quickly learned that Remy was addicted to coffee, largely because of his insomnia, and always had on a pair of sunglasses due to his photophobia. He was… Interesting.

At first, they were hesitant acquaintances, but after Logan effectively helped Remy through a panic attack, Remy latched onto him like a koala. Remy was loud and funny and forced him to eat, and Logan helped him with his homework and kept him company when he couldn’t sleep.

Two years later, Logan met Emile in his psychology class. He almost didn’t believe it would happen, but after a while, he didn’t feel lonely anymore. He still had to deal with intense abandonment issues, but Emile and Remy never let him deal with it alone, and Logan would be damned if he didn’t give them the same treatment. He wanted to help people, and that included being the best fucking friend in the entire world.

A few weeks before graduation, he got a call from Roman, whom he hadn’t spoken to since the day before Roman turned eighteen. Logan met him in a coffee shop.

Roman hadn’t gone to school- he couldn’t afford it and skipped too much, slacked off too much to get any kind of scholarship, and he wasn’t too interested anyway. He told Logan he went straight into working and doing theatre on the side, and was in the city for his first movie audition. Logan told him about school, and his job, and Roman was just as surprised as he was when Logan told him about Remy and Emile.

“Well I have to meet them!” He cried, then hesitated, remembering he’d practically abandoned Logan. “If you want, that is.”

Logan nearly laughed; he’d never seen Roman look so pitiful. “Yeah, sure. We can all go out to dinner or something.”

Logan was in his mid-twenties, and working under a medical apprenticeship, when he met Seth at the book club he was now the president of. The first thing Logan noticed about Seth was the bright pink patches of eczema sprinkled all over his otherwise dark brown skin, and the second was that he was a compulsive liar. Sometimes Logan didn’t even realize Seth was lying, until he was stumbling over himself trying to correct it, flustered and embarrassed.

Logan admired him. They stayed talking in the library even after everyone else in the book club left, and Logan learned he was in therapy for compulsive lying, anxiety, and depression. While Logan and Roman both left home when they were eighteen and never even thought of turning back, Seth was tentatively trying to mend his relationship with his parents after they cut him off for lying.

They fell easily into a relationship. It just made sense; they were comfortable with each other and understood each other a lot better than most people. Remy and Emile understood Logan’s trouble with feelings, and could temporarily soothe his abandonment issues. But Seth didn’t just understand, didn’t just tolerate it- around him, Logan was comfortable enough to express his emotions, and the things Seth said actually stuck. Remy and Emile had to come running again and again, but Seth’s voice rang in his head any time he felt insecure.

One night, in their fourties, Logan admitted to Seth while they were laying in bed at night that Patton existed, this person he’s seen his entire life who watches out for him. Seth didn’t mock him, like Logan feared. He wanted to hear all about it. Logan had never felt as relieved as he did in that moment. He’d been dragging this along throughout their entire relationship, and they both noticed a difference afterwards, how much lighter he felt. He could finally put his full trust in Seth.

He went with Patton without any struggle. Virgil, whom he hadn’t seen since that night when he was seventeen, clapped him on the back and congratulated him.

Patton offered him the warmest smile- he was made of sunlight. “Logan Sanders,” he said, his voice made of wind, “would you like to go again?”

#logan sanders #abuse tw #virgil sanders #patton sanders

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lunawings · 5 years

Text

King of Prism SSS episode 8 commentary (Yu)

So, in my opinion, I think the episodes we’ve seen up until now could be more or less enjoyed to the fullest by newcomers and/or people who haven’t seen Rainbow Live.

But from here on out, there is a notable change. And I really mean from here on out: Episodes 8 - 12 basically require having seen Pretty Rhythm Rainbow Live to be fully understood I think.

So if you watched this episode and thought wait.... why did they just skip over Yu’s backstory like that!?!

Two words: Rainbow Live.

Anyway let’s get started.

I’m surprised the subber knew the correct spelling to ViviC Heart Session. That takes.... research!? ....Wait, it’s in the credits. Still, that’s some non-linear translation.

Also I kinda wonder when and where ViviC Heart Session came from in canon. Yeah it’s the Pride the Hero ending, but there is a whole story on how they made and performed Dramatic Love for the Christmas concert, but nothing on ViviC Heart Session as far as I know.

If you’re wondering why they’re all acting so weird, there have already been not one but TWO different story arcs in the Prism Rush Main Story about Yu ambitiously deciding to write songs and biting off way more than he could chew ahah....

They know.

So this kinda dates this episode? Sort of? Despite the way it seems in episode 1, clearly the Prism One doesn’t take place right after it was announced ahah.

The way Yu says this line makes me think it’s probably been a month or so already.

So maybe it was announced in July-August (episode 1 takes place in “summer”), and happened in September-October, something like that?

So like literally JUST as I was thinking to myself “wow the subs have really gotten better in this episode....” THIS had to happen... How dare you translate Taiga’s “IT’S A FESTIVAL” as “party time”................

Oh well. Honestly though, aside from this, this episode has the best subs so far, BY FAR.

Been wondering for months how they would sub MUGEN HABUUUUUU because I had no idea how I would do it myself ahah.

Although they don’t state it explicitly, it’s pretty clear this episode takes place in Okinawa. Among many other things, I think it’s the only place in Japan with habu.

I may or may not have thought way too hard for too long about how Taiga and Kakeru ended up in this boat together.

I mean I would like to think Taiga chose Kakeru as his partner in good faith that they could work well together.

BUT KAKERU ISN’T EVEN ROWING COME ON

HE’S JUST ENJOYING THE VIEW

THE VIEW BEING TAIGA IF YOU DIDN’T GET MY DRIFT

I suppose it could have been random pairs, but Shin and Leo also ended up together and that seems not random ahah. Speaking of which...

When I saw this episode for the first time I saw it as a 3-pack with Leo’s episode coming right before (the theatrical Part 3). So I had just gone though Leo’s episode for the first time and all the baggage that came with it less than 10 minutes earlier.

And needless to say I was VERY MUCH NOT OVER IT AND EXPERIENCING VERY HIGH EMOTIONS ABOUT LEO

So during this scene I was like like

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO

MY SONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

SAVE HIMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

It actually took me until at least my second or third viewing to catch Kakeru trying to take a selfie with Taiga in the background there and I lost my shit.

BTW I just want to mention that ViviC Heart Session was made for this episode. Well yes I know it wasn’t literally made for this episode, but it’s always sounded tropical for me and it just could not be more perfect.

I have been wondering for months what Taiga says here and I’m still not sure. (Not that I think this subtitle is wrong, but I mean I can’t make out the Japanese he uses. I just know folks in the theater laugh about it. Or they could just be laughing at Taiga’s method of escaping from Yu.)

Me at cheering: “IT’S SHIN. PICK UP.”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO”

I wonder if like, they all got together and tried to figure out who Yu was least likely to hang up on.

But seriously though

WHO COULD EVER HANG UP ON SHIN

YOU MONSTER

I said once that Jin was the best voicework in SSS, but Taiga man I dunno. Taiga is up there too. This scream is just so..... BRILLIANT..........

My reaction here changes from “OMG TAIGA ARE YOU OK” to just laughing hysterically. Sometimes in the same showing. Taiga I’m sorry.

My new desktop background.

Seriously this episode is just SO BEAUTIFUL.

Such a simple plot, but such amazing atmosphere and visuals that really take it SO MUCH FURTHER.

If I stopped to take screenshots of everything I thought looked amazing this post would never end. So just know I’m definitely thinking it. Just goddamn.

For a long time I wondered how and why Minato found about about this.

But then I realized it actually makes a lot of sense.

So remember in my last post when I talked about my theory that Minato and Yu probably joined Edel Rose at the same time? Well, when Yu met Leo, basically the first thing he did was brag about knowing Over the Rainbow. So he probably did the same to Minato, and/or Minato just noticed him being way too friendly with Kouji.

Considering Minato entered Edel Rose FOR KOUJI there is no way he wouldn’t notice that and wonder about it.

So one day he probably worked up the courage to ask Kouji about it, and.....

Oh boy.

BTW if you’re thinking huh? Yu’s family was separated? What?

See: The Ito/Kouji plot in Rainbow Live. (And bring tissues.)

Just the comparison of how fast he picks up here. Even though the first thing he does is complain to her it’s like.... HALF A SECOND from when he sees it’s Ito to when he answers omg.....

So I kinda questioned this subtitle here. Because the literal Japanese is just him saying “IT’S LATE!”

So I always thought he meant it like “Do you know what time it is!?”

But then I thought about it some more. And I remembered the Rose Party 2018 event, where the voice actors played a game where they all decided new aspects of the characters. And one of the things that were tasked with deciding (at the afternoon performance I believe) was what Yu does every night before he goes to bed. And one of the answers was “discusses life problems with Ito”.

So, maybe Ito does call Yu every night so he had been waiting on a call from her for a while....

And if so, in that context this subtitle is spot on.

You win, Crunchyroll.

Cheering audience: “THAT WAY”

Yu was so impressive Kakeru stopped taking pictures of Taiga for a full minute.

DID I MENTION THIS EPISODE IS FUCKING BEAUTIFUL

But so like. As soon as they started heading up the hill. Like practically from when they called his name, I was like..... Yu’s gonna cry.

So then it was many long, long seconds of anticipation.....

until finally this.....

And I was not disappointed.

Of all the beautiful things in this episode, I think the most beautiful thing may just be Yu’s crying animation here. He’s such a beautiful crier.

I love this scene so much. It brings me so much joy. Because he’s not crying because he’s hurt or sad.

He’s crying because he realized he has friends.

HE’S CRYING BECAUSE HE HAS FRIENDS

YUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

You know, I didn’t even realize Taiga was hiding behind Kakeru until someone in the stream pointed it out.

Am I an asshole because this is Yu’s episode but most of my favorite moments involve Taiga/Kakeru.

HUG HIM

HUG HIMMMMMM

OH MY GAWD I have NEVER so desperately wanted to reach through the screen and hug an anime character

Also Leo always cries when anyone else is crying.

I spent so much time looking at Kakeru and Minato that I didn’t even realize Taiga too..... They’re BOTH sleeping on top of Minato omg.....

Also I can’t help but laugh that Leo is the big spoon on Shin. But it doesn’t surprise me. If you read Prism Rush stuff, Leo aggressively cuddling Shin in his sleep is nothing new.

Damn but. Okay so like, another way in which seeing this episode right after Leo’s influenced me is, during Leo’s episode I kept thinking about what PriPara coords were closest to the outfits that the boys were wearing and how I was totally gonna record arcade videos with them.

And then we get to this and I was like OH MAN I can’t wait until that outfit comes out so I can put it on my character.... then I was like.... WAIT.....

And I realized this is basically the only idol anime I watch currently where I can’t have the clothes and I was like......... ahhhh.... not fair..........

Seriously though it is kind of odd. For me anyhow.

But also because they don’t have to worry about an arcade game for King of Prism, they have a lot more freedom. Like in a show like this, usually all the important coords that season will all uniformly have wings or holograms or otherwise follow some kind of a theme.

But with this it’s like... WHATEVER. Give Yu a huge floaty cross?? SURE WHY NOT!!!! ahah......

PRISM LIIIIVE

Okay so I know this animation is straight from Rainbow Live.

But this lightning guitar here, it’s a recolor of Sara’s guitar from PriChan isn’t it?

And if it is, this’s the first/only specifically PriChan (not PriPara) reference I know of in SSS.

So I guess the Prism System doesn’t score Prism Lives for boys yet, huh....?

So one Prism Live + one jump = this.

But I suppose you could also argue that although Yu’s show was super personal and meaningful to him, he really didn’t do much for the audience did he? (The in-universe audience I mean, as it did plenty for me haha.) It was a rather street-style show in that aspect when you think about it.

Oh well, I guess no matter what someone has to be last................................

Ah man anyway this episode.

So when I saw it for the first time, it actually didn’t leave that much of an impression on me. But that’s because it was a bit overshadowed by how EXTREMELY EMOTIONALLY DISTRAUGHT I was from Leo’s episode, and then I ended up leaving the theater thinking about the um, surprise that’s gonna happen next week in Alexander’s episode. So this episode kinda fell by the wayside.

I was actually kinda jealous of how much you guys in the stream were freaking out about it. It really made me wish I had the chance to see it independently without the influence of Leo and Alexander. There are definitely advantages to watching these week-to-week instead of in odd bunches.

Because the more I watched it, the more I really REALLY liked it, and now I think it’s probably my third favorite character episode after Taiga’s and Leo’s. (Or maybe even second. I keep flip-flopping.)

I was also a bit blindsided by how this episode didn’t really follow the normal formula. Since they skipped over Yu’s backstory, they had time for other things. They had time for, dare I say it... “filler”? By that I mean, time to focus on just the boys being boys. Although it’s something we get a lot of on Prism Rush, I realized it’s something we have been severely lacking in the movies and anime. Another big difference between this series and typical Pretty Series/Aikatsu-type anime (other than not being able to have the coords......) is the lack of filler, and I realized how truly valuable it can be. This episode is just such a jewel.

So in between last week and this week I picked up a magazine (spoon 2Di vol. 50) with director commentary, and this was the last episode he commented on.

He said this episode is about Yu going through his “rebellious phase”, which he never had the chance to have when he was younger since his family split up during such an important part of his childhood and he felt he had to be strong for his mom and all that.

So instead he goes through it with his Edel Rose family.

GAAAAAH

Probably my favorite thing about Yu is how we’re able to see him gradually grow and change more than any other character I think.

Who would have though that little boy we met in Hokkaido would get this far......

So next up is Alexander’s episode and um....

You may have noticed me talking significantly less about that episode that I have about others. And there’s a reason for that. And it’s not because I have nothing to say about it......

The events in Alexander’s episode basically set off a continuity train until the end of the series. IMHO it doesn’t matter what order you watch episodes 2-8 in, but from here on out it’s definitely all connected.

So basically what I’m trying to get at is.... um.... g..... get emotionally ready for some future cliffhangers. I’m sorry.

Also, your last chance to properly prepare by watching Rainbow Live.... you won’t be disappointed, I promise.......

#king of prism #kinpri #yu suzuno #king of prism sss #king of prism shiny seven stars

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mayquita · 5 years

Text

Pictures of Reality - Epilogue

Hi everyone! I can’t believe that we have reached the last stage of this journey, but yes, this is the final chapter. I’d like to express my gratitude one last time to all of you for your comments, kudos, likes, reviews and reblogs. Thank you so so much.

Summary: Emma Swan returns to her birthplace, Storybrooke, in search of a fresh start after a life marked by abandonment and betrayal. After a year there, she finds the stability she needed and also the possibility of learning about one of her passions, photography. Killian Jones, a former British war reporter with a tragic past, establishes himself in the same town as an instructor of photography, following in the footsteps of his best friends, the Nolans. What will happen when their paths cross? Will their common passion for photography help them heal old wounds?

Rating: M (Language, mature themes, implied sex)

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, mentions of the loss of a limb in an armed conflict.

Other ships / Characters: Although, obviously, this is a cs fic, Snowing plays a major role here, mainly David. In fact, the story contains three different points of view, those of Emma, Killian and David. Also, Henry appears in the story as Regina’s adopted son but he is not Emma’s biological son.

Beta: I’d like to express my gratitude, as always, to my beta @jarienn972 I’m aware that you have had to deal with a monster of more than 100k words and English is not my mother tongue, so I value your effort even more.

Artist / art: Go visit @imagnifika’s blog and enjoy her amazing art. There are two arts accompanying this chapter, the first one includes a moment that happens at the beginning. Regarding the second one, I'm putting it at the end, for reasons. That art is special for me because I made a request to Kate and she made her magic in no time and create that amazing edit. Thank you so much.

Art for the prologue/ Art for chapter 1 / Art for chapter 2 and banner / Art for chapter 3/ Art for chapters 4-5 / Art for chapters 6-7/ Art for chapter 8 / Art for chapter 10 / Art for chapter 11 / Art for the epilogue

Special mention to @saraswans , thank you so much for your perpetual support, for believing in me when I doubted myself and for offering ideas to make this story grow. Another special mention to @onceuponaprincessworld , It has been a pleasure to chat with you throughout these months :)

Don’t forget to go read and enjoy the rest of the amazing csbb stories and art.

Word count: ~ 8400 (116k total in 16 chapters)

Also on (From the beginning): Ao3 / Ffnet (Current Chapter) Ao3 / Ffnet

Tumblr: Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

What to expect from this chapter? We’re celebrating Emma’s new birthday… and more…

EPILOGUE

Emma Swan. Storybrooke - October 23, 2018

Even though Killian was waiting for her in the living room, Emma took her time to study her reflection in the bathroom mirror. On the day of her twenty-ninth birthday, she looked exactly like the day before.

Well, that's not entirely true, she thought as she pursed her lips as if to throw a kiss. Since today was her special day, she had pushed herself with her physical appearance, having every intention of leaving her boyfriend bewitched the moment she made her entrance.

Her eyes seemed bigger and the green color brighter thanks to the discreet dusting of eyeshadow that she had applied and just the right amount of mascara. Her lips were an invitation to be kissed and her hair fell in soft golden waves over one of her shoulders, just the way he liked.

True, it was her birthday, she should be the one who received special attention. Killian also didn't need any push to, well, satisfy her in every way, but she enjoyed this game of seduction and already knew in advance that her boyfriend was going to spend the whole evening thinking about the best way to get rid of that dress and have his way with her. If she played her cards well, that might happen even earlier than expected.

Indeed, the chosen dress was perfect for her plans, she checked as she turned to catch the different angles through the mirror. Her attire choice had been a flowing draped creamy dress accented with a gemstone belt. There was also another small detail, a zipper running down the back of the dress so she might need help to finish dressing. After one last look at her reflection, her lips drew a wicked smirk and then she went in search of her improvised assistant.

Killian did not disappoint her. The moment she appeared in the living room, walking toward him while her hips swayed slightly, his eyes locked on her, following her every move. When she got to where he was, she turned around, showing her bare back as she cast a suggestive glance over her shoulder. "I may need some help."

"Bloody hell, Swan. We should be leaving in fifteen minutes." He growled, his warm breath caressing the skin of the back of her neck and sending a chill down her spine.

"Where's the rush? It's my day today. I'm allowed to be late." She purred and then bit her lower lip, feeling the first touch —and she hoped not the last one— of his fingers on her bare back.

An hour later and after being thoroughly satisfied, they finally left his (their) apartment, both wearing the same sated smiles and flushed cheeks.

Their destiny was uncertain, at least for her. The only thing Killian had revealed to her was that they were going out of town to get her birthday present but that, evidently, they would be back in time for the party at Granny's in her honor. Still, on the drive to that unknown destination, she insisted, since she didn't feel particularly comfortable when things were not under her control, even for a good reason.

"Where are we going?”

"Out of town, Swan.”

(Rolling eyes)

“Is my gift something physical?”

“You'll discover it shortly, love.”

(Really?)

“When we arrive? (Yes, I know, I'm behaving like a little girl, but I don't care)”

“Patience is a virtue, just relax and enjoy the ride.”

( Double rolling eyes)

So she had no choice but to ‘enjoy the ride’ by looking out the window and trying to figure out from the different directions they took where they would go. To be honest, she also glanced at Killian from time to time who was exuding total confidence driving his new adapted vehicle as if he had been doing it all his life instead of just for the past three months.

She didn't stop admiring the ease with which Killian had ended up accepting his prosthesis and its implications, using the substitute of his hand to his advantage instead of making it an inconvenience. Still, the road to that level of acceptance had been long and hard — more than two years. Even now, he experienced some rough days, when the frustration of not being able to do something took over him or when the phantom pains of his missing limb paid him an unexpected visit.

Today wasn't one of those days, fortunately, since she couldn't bear to see Killian suffer, whatever the reason. Today his bright smile, his mischievous gaze, and that expression, a mixture of contentment and nervousness — probably due to her impending surprise— made him irresistible in her eyes.

She supposed that they were going to Boston when they passed the sign with that name and turned onto the road that would take them to the center of the city. Her curiosity grew at times while she wondered what would await them there. When Killian started parking a few minutes later, Emma peered out the window, but nothing rang a bell.

She then looked at Killian, "I don't see anything interesting out there. Where are we supposed to be?" She asked, sounding perhaps a little more grumbling than she felt.

Killian smirked at her after rolling his eyes. "I'm afraid we're going to have to walk a bit. Also, I need to ask you a favor. Can I trust you?"

"It depends..." She tried to hide her true feelings by masking them with a halo of indifference, despite the fact that the damn bastard had managed to capture her interest, leaving her a nervous wreck and beyond excited.

"I need to blindfold you until we get to the place. That or you offer me enough confidence to walk there with your eyes closed. So, what's your choice, Swan?"

"I don't get the need for so much mystery but anyway - eyes closed. You’re not going to ruin my makeup for the second time this morning." She pouted as she felt her cheeks flush, recalling the reasons for the first time.

Killian also seemed to remember since, despite his smug grin, the tips of his ears turned a deep red in a way that made him so freaking adorable. Gods! She loved that man.

"Okay, let's do this." He patted the steering wheel of the car and, just as he was about to open the door to get out of the car, he turned to her, raising an eyebrow in warning. "Don't think I'm taking my eyes off you for a second."

"You and I know that, surprise or not, you aren't able to take your eyes off me." She countered. Two could play this game.

"And you and I both know it's all your fault. You're irresistible, love." Without giving her time to react, Killian leaned toward her and gave her a quick kiss on the lips before turning and getting out of the car.

He was at her side in an instant, opening the door and offering her his hand to help her out. She pressed her lips together holding back a snort. Always the gentleman... "Now, if the lady would be so kind as to close her eyes..." She gave him one last look, letting out a deep sigh before dropping her eyelids. "Trust me, Swan." He whispered in her ear, sending goosebumps down her skin. Next, she felt him draw her to him slightly and wrap his arm around her shoulders. "Let yourself go."

And that she did. Walking blindly, depending on someone else to guide her steps so as not to stumble or simply not to hit any obstacle on the sidewalk, turned out to be a demonstration of absolute trust in her partner. But, although there was always a bit of innate fear, she felt safe, once again, in his arms.

They didn't walk for long. If her sense of direction didn't betray her, they simply went around the corner and stopped a few steps later. "We're almost there, don't open your eyes yet."

When Killian moved away from her, she felt unprotected somehow and very tempted to do just that - open her eyes. She resisted though. Instead, she decided to use the rest of her senses to figure out what was happening around her.

She heard the tinkling of what sounded like keys, mixed with the ambient noise of the street. Then Killian's warm hand entwined with hers as he pulled her subtly. "We're almost there, just a few more steps, love." He whispered again.

Emma let herself be guided, feeling the temperature rise as they entered wherever Killian had taken her. The outside sound was muffled the moment the door closed behind them, giving way to absolute silence.

Killian pulled her once more, making her walk a few steps, her heels echoing broadly on the smooth surface of the floor. That gave her a clue that they were probably in a large room, getting her curiosity and impatience to increase.

"It's alright, Swan. You can open your eyes now." Killian muttered behind her.

She opened her eyes slowly, blinking a couple of times until her vision adapted to the new lighting in the room. When her gaze finally settled on what she found in front of her, her mouth fell open on a gasp and her eyes widened. "Holy shit!"

Her gaze traveled throughout the room while she remained in awe, unable to believe what she saw. They were in an exhibition hall. And her image - several of her images - appeared in all the photographs that hung on the walls.

Her gaze then fell on Killian who remained silent at her side, his brows furrowed slightly, waiting for her reaction. "You did this, didn't you?" She mumbled in a barely audible voice, her hand waving in an attempt to encompass the entire room.

"Aye?" He wrinkled his nose as he closed one eye, as if suddenly feeling insecure.

"Let's see if I understood correctly... You've organized a photo exhibit in a Boston showroom, using the photographs you took of me?"

"That would be a pretty accurate description." He confirmed tentatively while handing her an explanatory brochure.

The former British war reporter and award-winning photographer, Killian Jones, reappears after three inactive years to present us a new photographic collection, inspired by his muse, The Lady Swan, to whom the exhibition owes its name. True to his style, the collection stands out for the elegance and sophistication of simple lines alternated with powerful lighting games. All the photographs are in black and white, endowing the collection with the sobriety that characterizes the artist.

The complete collection is for sale. All the benefits obtained will go to different non-governmental organizations that currently collaborate in locations of various active armed conflicts, as well as those working in cities that have suffered war attacks.

"Oh my God." A wave of pride, admiration and pure love seized her, causing her to throw her arms around his boyfriend's neck while kissing him hard. "You're bloody amazing." She mumbled in a poor attempt to imitate his accent as she grabbed the back of his head, sprinkling kisses on his cheeks, lips and any exposed skin of his face.

"I suppose that by your reaction, you approve of it." Killian said between chuckles, while trying to respond to her kissing attack with one of his own.

She pulled back a bit of him looking for her eyes. "Are you kidding me? This is wonderful, and I haven't even seen the photos in detail yet... As long as there are not any inappropriate photos... You know what I mean..." Emma raised an eyebrow suggestively while she bit her lower lip.

"You'll have to verify it for yourself." He winked at her, but then his expression changed to a more serious one. "The exhibition hall doesn't open to the public for another week, but I wanted to show it to you before, both as a birthday present and also to confirm that you give us permission to use your image. Just say the word and we will back out. This is important, Swan. " Killian looked at her intently.

She had no doubt that he would do it, that if she didn't agree, he would take down all the photos on the wall with his own hands. That certainty did nothing but increase her feelings towards him, causing a lump in her throat while she looked at him completely stunned, unable to utter any words.

Killian must have interpreted her silence in the wrong way because before she could reply, he continued with his explanation. "It's reward enough for me to have witnessed your reaction. That’s what I wanted when I set up all this, to show you how wonderful you are as a model and maybe, to believe in myself again. I’m getting it now through your reaction. I don't give a shit about what others may think."

"Others, and with others, I mean the rest of the world, are going to be impressed with your art. You deserve to have the rest of the world recognize your talent in the same way that I do." She nodded to emphasize her speech. Her reaction managed to pull a smile from his lips, to which she responded with one of her own. "And now, I may need a special guide to tour this exhibition." Emma offered her hand, ready to enjoy her gift in its entirety.

What impressed her the most about Killian's art work, besides his undeniable talent, was that walking around the room observing the photos was like walking through their shared memories. Each image, from the simple photo of her strolling on the beach at sunset to the photo in which only her hands appeared braiding her hair, all had a special meaning for her, and for both as a couple.

But there were four special photos that caused her to gasp when her eyes landed on them. The first photo was chosen from that photo shoot in early May, when she was wearing his black shirt. Yeah, the one with the bare shoulder.

It was amazing how Killian had managed to capture her enigmatic gaze and convey sensuality and delicacy at the same time. He made her look like a powerful and impressive woman. A strange sensation settled in the pit of her stomach when she saw herself in that startling image, as if she did not identify with the person that appeared.

Killian must have sensed the emotion crossing her mind since he circled her waist with his arms from behind as he murmured in her ear. "It seems that I changed my mind and I've decided to share the marvel I've got for a girlfriend with the rest of the world." "I'm not complaining." She turned her head looking for his lips for a quick kiss. "I look damn good there. I don't know how you did it." "It's all your merit, Swan." "Sure." She rolled her eyes as she continued walking.

The next photo pulled her lips into a smile for both the image itself and the memory behind it. Killian had managed to capture a close-up of one of her eyes and a tear that had begun to slide down her cheek. A new wave of admiration washed over her since he had captured the moment, pausing the tear eternally on its way down. And even though the photo was black and white, the intense brightness of her gaze was evident.

What people wouldn't know was the light source or that she wasn't crying with sadness - well, maybe yes, or, whatever... They had watched Titanic together for the first time a couple of months ago and Killian had made fun of her from the very beginning since she had been trying to hold back tears throughout the film. With the inevitable death of Jack, she hadn't been able to help it anymore and a furtive tear had finally escaped. Killian had decided at that precise moment to grab his camera, of course. And now, they were seeing the result right here.

Approaching the next photo, the one that occupied a privileged place in the room for obvious reasons, she screamed, literally. "Oh my God!"

The dimensions of the photo were somewhat larger than the others, which made it stand out even more. Emma’s image stood in the center of the picture with her back to the camera, submerged up to her waist in a lake. She wore a white dress and over it, a kind of light coat of the same color, adorned with fake feathers. She had her arms raised on either side of her body at shoulder height, the wide sleeves of her cloak creating the effect of wings in the air. Her hair was pulled up in a high bun and her head was slightly tilted upwards, her neck stretched out, her elegant posture emulating a swan. The light at that hour of the day fell over her in such a way that it seemed that a luminous halo surrounded her. The image was hypnotic and powerful and perfect. And it was her boyfriend's artwork.

But the best of all was the story behind that picture. They had found the cloak while walking through an antique market one summer day and Killian had felt inspired, so he had spent the next two days looking for the best location to carry out the photo shoot. Despite her initial apprehension of getting into the water with clothes on, she had enjoyed the photo shoot, following Killian's instructions and contributing with her own ideas since she was enthusiastic about emulating her namesake swan.

Given that the place Killian had found was sufficiently recondite, they had decided to celebrate the end of the session in a rather pleasurable way, gaining not only memories of one of her best jobs as an improvised model, but memories of making love under the trees, a blanket of vegetation beneath them. A warm feeling ran through her body as Emma shared a knowing glance with Killian. Without a doubt, their minds were reliving that unforgettable moment.

She remembered something else too - something not so nice. She had been so excited to see the result of the photos that she had felt totally devastated when Killian had told her that he had inexplicably lost the content of that photo shoot.

"You didn't lose the photos! You're a liar!" She recriminated him poking a finger into his chest.

"Sorry?" Killian gave her an apologetic look, but the grin he wore indicated he didn't feel sorry at all. "I needed you to see the picture for the first time right here, Swan." His lips drew a pout in his attempt to defend himself.

"I want a copy of this photo." She sued.

"As you wish." His head made a slight bow. "You can have all the copies you want, love." He assured.

She looked at the image again, discovering with each glance a new small detail, like the few clouds that adorned the sky. "It's just perfect, Killian. Congratulations."

"Again, the merit is all yours. Well, and maybe the sun also has something to do with it as that day, it decided to grace us with its splendor. But I mean it, you're not only stunning but you're always willing to participate in my crazy ideas. I really appreciate it, Emma." As he spoke he approached her, invading her personal space and placing both his hand and his prosthesis on either side of her waist. She, in turn, encircled his neck with her arms.

"I'm in love with an artist, I'm the privileged one here, believe me."

After being enthralled for a few seconds, both lost in each other's eyes, Killian shook his head slightly, as if trying to get out of the trance and offered his hand to Emma, guiding her to the last photograph of the exhibit.

Again, contemplating the image brought more emotion to her already excited heart. This time her eyes filled with tears and her heart fluttered as she looked at the picture in front of her. A photo of a family hug that she remembered very well, of the day she had finally decided to accept that she was part of a family. She had her back to the camera, but the image did show the faces of her parents, both wrapping her up in a protective hug, wearing the same expression of relief and love.

"That's the only photo of the collection that I took with my mobile, but I felt the need to include it here, since that's your life now - our life." He corrected himself as he reached for her cheek to wipe away the tears.

"See? You ended up messing up my makeup." She made a sound that was half-sob and half-giggle. When she got her emotions to calm down she finally was able to thank Killian properly. "Thank you so much, Killian. This surprise has exceeded expectations and this birthday gift competes with the one I received last year, the one who brought me to you."

"Speaking of which, love, your gift may not be over yet. In fact, I need you to close your eyes again. It will only be a few steps, I promise." He seemed so excited, almost bouncing in place, that she could not do anything but accept, close her eyes and trust him.

Only a few steps later they stopped again while Killian whispered that she could already open her eyes. When she did, she found a new smaller showroom. In contrast to the previous room, the photos that appeared hanging from the walls were an explosion of color. She didn't identify the photos at first, too shocked by all the emotions she had experienced throughout the day. But when her brain finally processed what her eyes were watching, she had to cover her mouth with both hands to avoid screaming again.

Killian had filled the walls with her own photographs, the ones she had taken and edited over the past few months. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized that she was contemplating her first photographic exhibition.

"Killian..." It was the only sound she could utter before a sob bubbled in her throat. Her agitation did not diminish when he handed her her own informational brochure, rather quite the contrary.

The amateur photographer, Emma Swan, presents her first photographic collection, Pictures of Reality, a work that stands out for the ability to immortalize little pieces of the reality of her place of residence, Storybrooke, a town located on the coast of Maine, and turn them into something special, beautiful and full of meaning. The intelligent use of colors in these small everyday scenes gives her work a great visual quality.

She was not just crying now, her eyes were two fucking fountains. Her gaze was so clouded with tears that she wasn't even able to observe her own work. "God, Killian, I hope this is the last surprise, because I swear I'm going to dry up inside."

This time, he did not even bother to wipe her tears, as it would have been an impossible task. He directly handed her a tissue as he pulled her lightly to guide her through the exhibition hall.

Now, she understood his insistence for her to edit her own photographs. He had managed to make everything that hung on the walls appear to be the result of her work, minus the actual printing of the photographs. And she admired him even more for it, for giving her the wings that would allow her to fly to reach her dreams.

"You're bloody brilliant, love. See all those photos? They’re talking, they're telling us stories, you've been able to capture those stories in your images." The smile of pride that adorned his face was enough for her to be about to burst into tears again, but this time she resisted.

There were photos taken from the docks, families walking, an old man sitting on a bench and telling stories to his grandchildren while the kids watched him enraptured. Killian had also included the photo of Olaf, the snowman, the one that she took the day of their practices in the snow. There were also photos of the nature that surrounded Storybrooke, photos of its inhabitants, photos of Henry, of her parents... Even the two of them also appeared, or at least their two hands intertwined.

Something changed in Killian's attitude as they stood right in front of that photo. His usual confidence seemed to have abandoned him, and a slight blush colored his cheeks. It was evident that he was up to something but she was not sure that she could handle even more surprises.

"Don’t you think there's something missing in that picture?" He asked, his chin pointing toward the photo as he reached out to scratch behind his ear.

Emma tilted her head, studying his features from under her lashes for a few seconds until her gaze finally drifted to the image. Her eyes narrowed trying to detect what could be missing. "I don't know, maybe the lighting? Or the saturation? Or perhaps the focus?"

"The photo is perfect both artistically and technically, but there is something missing on one of your fingers." Out of the corner of her eye, Emma watched as Killian pulled something out of his pants pocket and showed it to her. A ring.

"No!" She gasped unable to stop the emotion.

"No?"

A wrinkle of worry appeared on Killian's forehead as he remained still. Dammit! She shook her head and hurried to explain herself. "I mean, it's an 'I can't believe this is happening' sort of no..." She held her breath as she thought her heart was going to explode if he did not make any move.

After a few seconds that seemed eternal, the corners of his lips twisted upwards, the flash of something promising dancing in his eyes. "It would be an honor for me if you'd allow me to be a part of our own pictures of reality by becoming your life partner." Her gaze bored into his briefly until she shook her head in an attempt to get out of the trance. "Is that your way of asking me to marry you, Jones?" "Is it working?" He offered her a tentative smile. "Yes!" "I'm afraid I need you to be more specific here. That 'yes' means that it's working or that you do want to marry me?" "Oh my god, Killian." She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I want to marry you." Emma affirmed before throwing herself into his arms and capturing his lips with hers. An endless number of sensations danced inside her, causing her to feel like floating, not quite sure if what she was experiencing was real or just the sweetest of dreams. Only when they parted to catch their breaths did she realize that he still held the ring in his hand. "What are you waiting for? Put that ring on my finger, Jones." Emma offered her hand palm down. "So demanding, Swan." He smirked while he finally placed the ring where it belonged. "But you love me." "I do, with all my heart."

A flash crossed her mind at that moment when she remembered the first birthday they had shared, his, and the Nol... her parents' warning that he never celebrated it. "Would you let me do something special for you for your next birthday? I mean, I won't even get close to this, but I can try."

"Even at the risk of sounding a bit corny, my birthday will be special enough just by having you by my side."

"You know what I mean, Killian..."

There was a pause in which Emma was able to deduce that Killian was torn between staying anchored to his past or giving the future a chance. The ring she now wore on her finger was an indication and the bright smile he offered anticipated the answer, to her relief. "Even though you don't need to do anything special..."

"I don't need, I want to." Emma corrected.

"Okay then. I won't be opposed any surprise when it's time to celebrate my next birthday."

"Good." Her mind then began to work frantically, searching for ideas about how she might surprise him, now that Killian seemed willing to move on. Maybe that promised trip to London… But there were still a few months left for that. In the meantime, she still had many hours ahead to continue enjoying her special day.

Emma couldn't stop glancing at her new ring on the ride back to Storybrooke. Not even in her best dreams had she imagined that she would end up engaged on her birthday. The possibility of a wedding was something that she wouldn't ever have thought of until now, honestly, since from the day she had chosen to give a new opportunity to her relationship with Killian, she had decided to enjoy the day to day, without thinking too much about the future.

She didn't really need a ring, not an engagement, or even a wedding to consolidate her feelings towards Killian but somehow, the idea of celebrating with all their friends and family the commitment of their eternal love suddenly sounded more and more appealing. She couldn't wait to see the reaction of the others.

"I guess David will jump for joy when he finds out, now that he can finally call you son..." Emma made a deliberate pause. "...in-law."

"Well ..." Killian gave her a sidelong glance before focusing his eyes on the road again. "Your father may be aware of the news already... I... I asked for his blessing the other day..."

"Of course you did." Emma shook her head slightly as she couldn't prevent a smile from appearing on her face at the evidence, once again, of the strength of her new fiance's relationship with her father. A new idea crossed her mind at that moment, something she hadn't thought about until now. When the wedding took place, someone would have to walk her down the aisle and someone would have to be Killian's best man... No doubt David was going to be a very busy man that day.

With that in mind, she leaned against the back of her seat and closed her eyes, letting the last sunshine of the day caress her skin while a sensation of bliss spread through her body.

The first thing Mary Margaret did when Emma and Killian came through Granny's door was to look at her left hand as her eyes filled with tears and then she wrapped them both in a tight hug.

There were other curious reactions to the announcement of their engagement, such as Ruby and Graham's.

"Tell me it was you who asked him, Emma." Ruby demanded with a pleading look.

"Eh, not really." Emma replied slowly, not quite sure what all this was about. Her response caused Graham to raise his fist in the air in triumph as Ruby let out a snort of annoyance as she handed him a twenty-dollar bill.

"Wait... Is this a kind of bet or something?" Killian asked as he furrowed his brow in confusion.

"It's totally a bet. Here, my boyfriend and Ruby had the brilliant idea of betting who would be the one asking for the other’s hand in marriage." Elsa explained trying (and failing) to keep a serious expression.

Emma and Killian looked at each other while Killian raised an eyebrow and his lips began to draw a smirk. She shook her head in disbelief, for not having been aware at any time of the bet of her two friends, but she also felt glad because, with their gesture, they implied that they were certain that the engagement would happen sooner or later.

"It's not funny." Ruby grumbled as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Why do men always have to do it? Elsa, you're my last hope!” Ruby smirked at her, showing that she had already recovered after finding a new target. Graham and Elsa instead blushed in unison as they both looked at the floor. It seemed obvious that soon new wedding bells would sound in Storybrooke.

To the relief of the new couple in love, the other guests began to approach Emma and Killian to give them the appropriate congratulations. Henry was the last to do it. After sharing a hug full of affection with Emma, his gaze traveled from Emma to Killian while he wore a thoughtful expression.

"If the three best photographers in the town will be the main ones involved in the wedding, who will be in charge of taking the photos?" He asked with genuine interest.

"Well..." Killian raised his eyebrows as he glanced at his former students, all present at the event. "I think we have quite a few candidates here who will do a worthy job."

"We learned from the best, professor!" Will shouted, causing the rest of them to clap, while the tips of her fiancé's ears turned a characteristic pink color. There was no doubt that Killian had left a mark on each of them and for one reason or another, that course would always remain in their memories. In hers, of course, the course had a special place.

Once all congratulations on the engagement finished, it was time for another celebration, her birthday, and the reason why the party had been launched in the first place. If she thought the surprises were over after their visit to the exhibition hall and after getting engaged, she was wrong. Maybe she had already known in advance that a party in her honor had been waiting for her in Storybrooke, but what she did not expect at all was to find so many displays of affection, so many smiles, so many gifts. Everything for her, all because of her.

The arrival at Storybrooke two years ago had meant the end of her lonely birthday celebrations, but this was the first time she had done it with a real family around her and with the promise of the new family that she and Killian would soon start.

She kept the tradition of blowing the lonely candle in a cupcake, but now she didn't need to take a selfie to capture the moment, many people volunteered to do so. It was Elsa, the second most advantaged student of the course, the person chosen to immortalize the scene while Emma closed her eyes and let herself be carried away by the feeling of being loved, and with the simple wish that both her happiness and that of her loved ones last forever.

The tears shed didn't end with Killian's surprises either. She had never considered herself a weeping person but now that love in all senses of the word ran wild through her veins, she finally allowed herself to express her feelings and be vulnerable.

For that reason, she was unable to hold back the tears when she opened her parent's gift. An old Polaroid camera, the same style as the one Killian still had and like the one she had lost so many years ago. A new wave of affection both to her parents and to her recent fiancé —it was evident that Killian was also behind this surprise— took hold of her.

She reserved the last tears for later, with Killian and the four walls of their bedroom as the only witnesses. Besides the camera, her father had also given her a new letter. Although she had felt the almost unstoppable impulse to read it right there, she had finally preferred to do it in privacy. It was like this: holding the letter handwritten by her father while Killian's arms wrapped her as the happiest day of her life ended. The best part was that that day was only the first of many that were to come.

My dearest Emma,

Happy birthday, my dear daughter. May all your dreams come true.

I’m aware that we have already established that now that we have finally met, these letters are no longer necessary. But, since this has been my only contact with you all these years, would you allow me to write you one last time? Or maybe we could turn it into our little tradition, something just between you and me. Would you like that?

I'm honestly unable to explain in words how utterly happy I am to be with you on this special day and not just settle for watching you in the distance or writing longing letters hoping against hope that one day they would reach to you.

That day arrived at the moment when, in your huge generosity, you decided to forgive us and include us in your life, being part of your family.

I know that I will live the rest of my life trying to compensate you for all these years that we have spent separated. But today is a special day for you and also for us, it's not time to look back to the past but to look forward.

It's likely that when you read this letter you will have discovered the surprises that Killian has prepared for you. You can not imagine how incredibly proud I feel of you, of your talent, of your ability to achieve everything you set out to do.

Maybe your hand, the one that holds this letter, is wearing now something that wasn't there a few hours ago. Killian came to me a couple of weeks ago, telling me all the plans he had for your birthday and asking for my blessing to marry you.

I was aware that this would happen sooner or later, but that didn't stop my heart from bursting with happiness knowing that my family was finally going to be complete, that the person I've seen growing up, my best friend, that loyal and honorable man, will be part of our family officially.

I send my best wishes to you both, so that you are able to build that family that you deserve so much. We will be by your side whenever you allow us, helping and supporting you in this new stage of your journey in life.

I won't assume that I will be the one that walks you down the aisle, Emma, but in case you are so kind to choose me, it would be my most complete honor to accompany you on that special day and witness one of your milestones. We have lost so many throughout your life that I honestly hope not to miss a single one more.

Your father who loves you and will always be by your side,

David.

Killian Jones. Storybrooke - May 3, 2021

It was a bright day in early May. The soft sea breeze ruffled his hair as the warm sun's rays caressed his skin, the salty scent penetrating through his nostrils. Killian was at the docks, leaning over the railing, holding his inseparable camera between his hand and his prosthesis while he captured the magic of the sunset, the sky turning into a canvas of reddish and orange hues.

The ocean had always had a calming effect on him, both the sound and the movement of the waves had managed to alleviate the agony of his heart or make the burden of his past more bearable. Even now, when his heart was not only in peace but overflowing with happiness and his old ghosts were no more than a vestige of the past that only made an appearance from time to time, he still enjoyed the effect of the sea on him. Both he and his wife did so to the point that they had begun to consider buying a boat and making photographic expeditions along the coast of Maine. Or even further, only they would establish the limit.

His wife. He let the word slide through his mind as he could almost taste its meaning by watching the ring in his hand, one of the many proofs that what he was experiencing wasn't a dream, it was real. So real that sometimes the feeling was too overwhelming. This was his life now, waiting for his wife and father in law in one of their favorite spots of the town to later enjoy a peaceful dinner together. It was a simple and perhaps predictable life but he wouldn't change it for anything in the world.

Emma had asked him on occasion if he missed his years of adventure traveling to exotic places or working on risky missions so that the world would not forget the most disadvantaged people. The answer was always immediate. No, he didn't miss his previous life, not when he now had something to live for. And he could always fight injustice by offering his services in another way.

Just then, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, while a sense of anticipation hummed under his skin. He just needed to turn his head slightly to find the cause. Emma, his wife, the imminent future mother of his daughter, the love of his life, was walking towards him, causing his heart to flutter. She looked like a goddess, dressed in all white, her golden hair dancing to the rhythm of the sea breeze, her lips drawing a loving smile and her bright green eyes fixed on him.

His fingers began to tingle so he had no choice but to give in to the impulse, grabbing the camera to capture the image of the impressive woman he had for a wife. She was his muse, the person who had brought inspiration back to his life, after all. Knowing she was observed, she didn't hesitate to pose for him while her hand caressed her very swollen belly.

Only when he was satisfied enough with the result of his improvised photo shoot did she approach him, planting a loud kiss on his lips.

"This tiny little baby is not even born yet and she has already got more pictures than her mother and father together. I don't even want to imagine what will happen to us when she finally decides to arrive. We're going to have to buy a new apartment just to get more walls to hang her photos."

A laugh bubbled from his chest as he pushed aside the camera that hung around his neck to make space for his wife in his arms. "Oddly enough, I wasn't taking pictures of her, but of her stunning mum."

"You mean the whale I've become." She grumbled, her lips drawing an adorable pout. "I honestly can't wait for this baby to arrive, I think I'm going to explode at any moment."

Killian chuckled as he bent over until his face was at the same level as Emma's belly, leaving a delicate kiss on the fabric that covered her as he whispered, "Don’t listen to your mother, little love, she is and always will be the most beautiful woman, at least until you get here, of course."

He didn't need to look at his wife's face to know that she was rolling her eyes at that moment, although the smile pulling at her lips would become wider.

"This baby and her mom are pretty hungry. Why don't we head for Granny's right now?"

It was then that Killian realized that Emma had arrived alone. She and David were supposed to come directly from the newspaper office and then the three of them would meet with Mary Margaret at Granny's.

True to her decision, Emma had begun her studies to become a journalist and she was already in the process of getting it. Meanwhile, she had started to work in the local newspaper under her father's orders, thus achieving not only a source of income but to strengthen bonds with David.

"Where's your father?"

Emma rolled her eyes before answering. "He got a call from Mary Margaret for him to pick her up. Guess where she was?"

"In our house?" Killian asked, knowing in advance the answer for Emma's reaction.

"Yeah, apparently she's found the nicest crib sheet set ever and she just had to have everything ready because of the imminent arrival of this little human being." She pointed towards her belly. Although there was a slight bit of complaint in her voice and her brows furrowed slightly, Killian knew that she didn't mind at all that her mother had taken control of the baby's preparations.

They had previously talked about this and both agreed. Emma understood their reasons, accepting that their granddaughter was going to give them the opportunity to experience all that they had missed with her since, in addition, they had decided long ago that they wouldn't become parents again, that they wouldn't look for a substitute for their lost daughter.

Emma and Killian weren't going to complain if that meant lightening their responsibilities and enjoying more time together. They even have already predicted future dates when their little girl had grown enough to stay in the care of her grandparents from time to time.

"By the way, I caught David again today." Emma's voice brought him back to reality. "He adores you, you know, don't you? He was talking on the phone with someone and he wouldn't stop talking like this 'my son this... my son that...' He seems to always forget the 'in-law ' when he refers to you."

A warm sensation spread to his heart when he heard Emma. The feeling was mutual. If before the ties with David and Mary Margaret were strong, now that they had officially become family they were indestructible. David was not only his father-in-law but his best friend, his co-worker from time to time and the father figure he had needed so much since the loss of his brother. "But you and I know that doesn't bother you, right?"

"Nah, I find it pretty adorable, sort of weird, but adorable nonetheless." Emma offered him a soft smile while her hand caressed her belly again. "And now that I'm talking about him, I'm going to send them a text because my stomach is literally growling. I'm gonna faint if I don't eat any food in the next few minutes." Emma pulled the phone out of her purse and typed on the screen quickly. Next, she offered her hand. "Shall we?"

"We shall." Killian held her hand but instead of walking, he brought her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles as his eyes locked on hers. "Did I tell you today how much I love you, Swan?"

Emma remained thoughtful for a few seconds before answering. "Only a couple of times, but I wouldn't mind listening to it again."

The adorable smile that appeared on her lips almost made him forget to say the words, but he repressed the desire to kiss her senselessly until a little later. "Just a reminder, I love you Emma Swan-Jones."

"I love you too, Killian Jones. And now kiss your wife already."

He happily obliged.

David Nolan. Storybrooke - May 3, 2021

When David arrived at his daughter and Killian's apartment, he went directly to the small nursery, the room next to the master suite that had served as a dark room before they decided to move into that apartment and transform Emma's old apartment as a photo studio.

Mary Margaret was already there, but instead of keeping busy or simply watching distractedly the bedroom that would welcome their granddaughter in just a few weeks — in just a few days if they were lucky— he found her in the middle of the room, staring at the screen of her phone while covering her mouth with her free hand.

A tug of concern settled in the pit of his stomach as he hurried to get to his wife. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Mary Margaret flinched as she noticed his presence, while she looked away from the phone at him, her eyes full of tears that threatened to spill. "David..." She gasped. Then she shook her head, as if she had finished processing the information, while her face lit up. "Nothing is wrong, it's the opposite of wrong, actually. Everything is perfect." She breathed out while she handed him her phone.

Hi mom! Did dad already arrive? Your granddaughter and I are starving, so we're heading to Granny's now. Don't be late unless you want to arrive when I've devoured half of Granny's pantry. ES

Oh, and mom? Can you get me the jar of pickles that I keep in the cupboard? I may have a kind of craving right now and Ruby texted me to inform me that they have run out of stock. Can you believe it? ES

Mom and dad... David's heart thudded in his chest as his stomach fluttered, when he read those words for the first time. Emma had accepted them as parents a long time ago, and he was aware that she referred to them as such when talking to other people, but never when talking directly to them. Until now.

And the way she had chosen to do it only increased his love for her. She had used a simple text, something causal that in other circumstances would be impersonal, and had transformed it into something magical and special just by using two words. He didn't know if his poor heart would resist when she finally uttered the words out loud.

"Let's go get our daughter and son." David grabbed his wife's hand, pulling her gently while placing a soft kiss on the top of her head. Before leaving the nursery, he took a last look, while a warm sensation spread to his heart. Their granddaughter wasn't yet born, but her bedroom was already full of life, with warm colors, photos, and drawings adorning the walls. Even the old rag doll that was once destined for Emma now occupied a privileged place in the room.

There was no doubt that she would always be surrounded by memories in the form of pictures and stories and, above all, surrounded by the love of her entire family. He couldn't wait to finally meet her, hold her in his arms and never let her go.

TheLadySwan Family, that wide concept that encompasses endless possibilities, such as the unconventional family, without blood ties between its members, but with an indestructible union despite the misfortunes they go through. Or as the family that is reunited after too many years apart and whose members have to re-establish the ties that were broken at the beginning. Or as the family that is about to add a new member, a tiny person who has not yet been born but who has already managed to create unbreakable ties with the rest of her loved ones. Your whole family is looking forward to your arrival, Hope.

This is the end...

I will never be able to thank the mods of @captainswanbigbang enough for creating and organizing this amazing event and for allowing me to participate. Thanks to that, I’ve managed to finish my first MC. This story has meant so much to me on so many levels that this experience will always remain in my memory.

#cs ff #csbb #cs au #captain swan #pictures of reality #captain swan ff #mayquita writes #my cs writings #csbb 2018 #cs au ff

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snowy-charm · 5 years

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A Treatise on Charm, Snowy

(TL;DR warning: This post is kinda long. The quick version is that I’m gonna make music now! Next post will be one of said musics. The rest of this post goes over the story of why I’m doing it. Also I use a meme twice and link some rad music three times.)

The year: 2017. October. I was given the name “Snowy Charm” as a fun pony name to facilitate a secret santa exchange online. Even though I’d been a fan of these little horses since ~2012 I’d never delved into the world of having one to call my own. I was more than satisfied bearing witness to the growing cast of canon characters - and of course my hot and heavy courting with the cast of Fallout: Equestria. (Side note to anyone who may be reading this: FoE is pretty dope, but it is also the essence of grimdark. Read at your own risk!)

Suddenly at odds with this new OC acquisition, I quickly came up with a fast and loose backstory! He was a crystal pony from the wintery crystal kingdom (”Snowy”) and was probably an artificer or craftsman of some kind (”Charm”). I joked that the reason behind my name is that I live in a snowy climate (read: the tropics) and I was quite charming (the jury is still out on that one).

The following year was my first ever convention: BronyCon 2018! An artist friend of mine graciously designed my OC with little to no input on my part and came up with a design that I instantly fell in love with.

(Pictured here subtly in front of a rack-mounted EQ I have never used, but is appropriate for an upcoming revelation.)

Isn’t he ADORABLE?! I will forever wear that badge because it is awesome. The cutie mark has been redone a little since then, and no other artist has remembered his beard yet, but I digress; this story isn’t actually about him.

Of course, BronyCon was a blast! This became my impetus to be more than simply an observer in the fandom, but to be present and belonging with others through our communal enjoyment of My Little Pony. My friends, in general, had a disinterest of the show - which, you know what? That’s fair. I don’t particularly care for Game of Thrones, Desperate Housewives, or the DCU, and it would be hard for me to feign a genuine interest in the developments thereof - but as of BronyCon I was able to play on an even field with others who shared my same passion for these candy colored equines!

Now, another thing to note of me, which will be important in a moment: I’m slightly musical. Not amazingly talented or anything, just.. slightly musical. I was REALLY into marching band (and won the John Philip Sousa award my senior year!!), but stopped refining my craft during college and onwards. Turns out playing a $5000 instrument puts a damper on your ability to own one. (Here’s a second video, and a third; I freakin love marimba.) I picked up the Ukulele for the the occasional “BUT YOU LIKE TO MAKE MUSIC” urges, but more or less ignored actually honing my abilities.

But now that I found myself surrounded by the magic of friendship combined with the magic of ponies, I wanted to CREATE. I suddenly realized that Snowy Charm was to be a MUSIC PONE. I would make FANDOM HITS that nopony had ever HEARD BEFORE (or after - I didn’t/don’t expect to be horse famous [or really even horse known (triple parenthetical asides are super cool, by the way)]).

Aaaaand promptly realized I had the better part of a decade’s worth of rust hanging onto my high-school-level skills. Not to mention that I still didn’t own the only thing I was good at playing.

“Okay, okay, it’s fine. Don’t hyperventilate, self. We’ll just make this into a project about growth in music instead.”

- Me to myself circa the realization I can only really play a single instrument, and not even well.

I decided to make the project about my journey in the music field instead of pumping out dope jams. The goal was to lay out where I was musically and pick a song each week. I’d then practice that song all week and post a recording of my warbly self performing it by week’s end. Pick up a new instrument here, learn a new software there. Maybe I’d do originals now and again, but likely I’d just scream into the void and wait for it to call me back.

Of course, the dope jams would (hopefully) come, but as Jake says:

Long story short on that one: I didn’t.

Be it procrastination or a busy schedule, I can’t really defend my past self’s choice at this point. I made all the social media accounts and sturdied myself to make the first bellow into the abyss --- but then silence rung out. (Of note, I got my twitter anniversary notice today, so it has been exactly a year from my first tentative steps.)

Flash forward a couple months - October once more. My little festive community starts up again! More fun names are given out and lore starts being woven together about these new OCs! The stories start coming quick: There’s a stallion who HATES CRANBERRIES and one who makes bomb smoothies! A diamond dog who wants to celebrate Hearth’s Warming but is the target of seemingly the entire diamond dog population’s scorn! There’s a whole school filled with students, teachers, and a will-they-won’t-they janitor/counselor combo! Snowy now owns a potion shop specializing in musical applications, not to mention somehow he’s now the ambassador to those diamond dogs! But then, unexpectedly, on the day she was supposed to return from the hospital, my mother passed away.

I had recently lost my job and moved into my folk’s home out of town. Unemployed, isolated from friends, and yeeted into the throes of grief; I did all I really could: I picked up my dumb noise stick and sang about life, love, death, and colorful talking horses.

I made my first honest-to-goodness song - Drink In - during that period. It’s about that on-again-off-again pair I introduced earlier, but it was also about my grief and healing. I’ll share some of the lyrics here that, after I wrote them, spoke to me as if I didn’t pen them my damn self:

Take a deep breath Exhale regret Drink in sunsets The best is what’s left

It may not hit you the same way as it did me, music is often subjective, but it was an imperative reminder to let go of the stress I was compounding inside of me. I needed to hear that message badly - and put a pin in that, I’ll loop back to it in a moment.

I started working to better my craft again. I helped mix/master the album that my little festive family put together. I borrowed a bass guitar from a friend and started learning a little. I even got employed to do live mixing at the church I attend! Little by little I was getting better.

But let’s fast forward again, shall we? This time to August of this year, BronyCon 2019! One of the best times I’ve ever had, but that’s not the point (maybe I’ll go into it in a later post?). I came home invigorated and ready to face the world again after being exhausted for almost five months straight. I felt free from burdens and there was something on my mind that hadn’t been there for a long time: I was ready to CREATE.

If you were at the con, or if you’ve been on twitter recently, this next refrain may strike you as familiar:

(Patch done by @sew-adorkable)

I knew I had to make a song about it, but I had to make it good enough to be heard by folk. It had to be perfect before I could release it and have guitars and electronic music stuff and all the bells and/or whistles. I have a launchpad, unused, from last year - so I plugged it in with Ableton Live so I could make them funky horse beatz (with a z of course, because that’s 20% cooler).

Aaaaand promptly realized I was way out of my depth.

I’ve recorded live performances (and myself) with Reaper and Audition before, and I feel like I know at least some of the basics with them. I can put a vocal into compression, mix the instruments okay together, do some EQing, etc. But I was now adrift trying to get the computer to make sounds that I wasn’t able to do myself.

I couldn’t figure out how to put anything other than the default synth into reaper and I opened Ableton because that’s better for electronic music I hear and I want to learn how to do that and they don’t even have a timeline and use clips and what are clips and how do you make them and what are samples and how do you get them and how do I even record a voice in this thing and there’s not a TIMELINE and when you stop the noise the session isn’t stopped and the launchpad won’t work and I went back to reaper and they have a drum sampler and how do you get a sample and how do you install things and is this my personal hell and I understand this is a run on sentence - I was frustrated and I quit.

Remember the pin I told you to put in earlier? Refresh that into memory, here’s where it’s relevant.

About two weeks after this whole debacle I was listening to shuffle all on my phone and Drink In happened to come on. I remembered how the completely unintentional message of my own song really struck me a year prior. This stupid song about a pair of pony OCs with terribly played ukulele and shitty bargain bin percussion recorded with a mic not suited to record anything except vocals... and despite all that, despite all of the technical barriers that were in the way, despite clipping during recording ukulele and hearing the distortion every time I listen to the track, it helped me restore tranquility when my inner world was naught but a maelstrom of grief and tumult.

...I guess it didn’t have to be perfect to reach folks. Who knew?

And that right there is the moral I’m learning today. I struggle with it a lot, but there’s a problem with perfection: allow yourself only to produce perfection and you’ll produce nothing. I mean it’s a well known quote, right? Nobody’s perfect.

So, I apologize in advance to all people with ears, but it is now my intention to bring (hopefully) pleasant noises to the grandiose cacophony that is the internet. They won’t be perfect, but I’ll work on it.

Anyway, come to TrotCon.

(Art by Witchtaunter, Flitterfel, and Mentita Kirby)

P.S. Holy bananas you actually read this monster of a post? Give yourself a pat on the back! Future posts likely won’t be as herculean of a read, but no promises. Next time I’ll actually upload “Drink In” so you can hear this song I’ve referenced so much - and then I’ll talk about where I’m at mechanically and the goals I have by doing this whole thing. Oh, and don’t expect all the neat art to happen every post! I went a little YCH/commission crazy after I got back from BronyCon, but I’m also not made out money so it won’t last forever. I don’t expect really anybody to read a huge post ostensibly about someone’s OC, and even the lifetime of this project I expect less or equal to about 10 people, but I hope you find a sense of belonging and participation here! Hello to all 10 of you!

See y’all next time!

#I don't know how to tag things #MLP #Probably MLP #Horse Music?#Snowy Charm #long read #I'msosorry #I met Wootmaster at BronyCon last year #I sang the Halo theme at him #It was pretty cool #notice me senpai

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breakingarrows · 5 years

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Bioshock (2007)

[This was originally published on VerticalSliceMedia.com in 2018 and is republished from the latest draft I have]

Bioshock is a game that succeeds on the shoulders of one character: Andrew Ryan. His charisma and speech are enthralling, even if you disagree with the beliefs he puts forward. Ryan founded Rapture, a city under the sea hidden from the rest of the world and the setting for Bioshock. While Ryan is not the only person to live in Rapture and engage with the player, his presence is felt throughout the city through audio diaries and propaganda. The city would not exist were it not for Ryan, and the city would be nothing were it not for those special few who occupied it.

Rapture is both a location that allows compromised characters to either redeem or damn themselves on the moral scales, and a condemnation of the ideology of an unregulated, free market, unrestricted by meddling governments whether it be democratic, communistic, or religious. Andrew Ryan declares he does not believe in any god, but rather as the founder of Rapture he occupies in his own mind the position of omnipotence. It is this stubborn denial that any could usurp his position that leads to his downfall at the hands of Fontaine, who desires Ryan’s power but knows it is not something that will be willingly shared. Ryan is recorded in an audio log dismissing Adam, the chemical that gives the character’s of Bioshock their abilities, and its powers as trite and not worth his time, until it begins to take hold and dominate the population’s time and money. It is then that he seeks to be rid of Fontaine via the police, despite the supposed freedom Rapture affords. Ryan desired a utopia free from regulation, but only if he was at the top. When confronted with the flaws of his system, Ryan retreats ever inward and seals himself in from the rest of Rapture. Having already founded a city under the ocean, separated from the rest of the world, Ryan chooses to further separate himself from the own world he built, delving even further into his own inability to change. An audiolog even captures the moment Ryan rejects introspection as he ponders whether he has made mistakes building Rapture. Instead he throws any reflection away as a distraction from destroying Atlas, Fontaine’s alias for a majority of the game.

Could I have made mistakes? One does not build cities if one is guided by doubt. But can one govern in absolute certainty? I know that my beliefs have elevated me, just as I know that the things I have rejected would have destroyed me. But the city... it is collapsing before my... have I become so convinced by my own beliefs that I have stopped seeing the truth? Perhaps. But Atlas is out there, and he aims to destroy me, and destroy my city. To question is to surrender. I will not question.

Another example of Ryan’s true intentions and the failings of Rapture is with the splicers, your common enemy throughout Bioshock. Killing splicers is never given a second thought throughout the game despite being regular citizens of Rapture. Due to the lack of regulation, plasmids were allowed to flood the market with little regard to inform citizens of its side effects. Plasmids required constant Adam injections and continued usage deteriorated their body and mind. Thus splicers were born, disfigured citizens whose desire for abilities such as telekinesis led to their dehumanization to the point that they become nothing more than hideous monsters for the player to shoot, beat, and kill in the variety of ways Bioshock affords.

Doctor Suchong, frankly, I'm shocked by your proposal. If we were to modify the structure of our commercial Plasmid line as you propose, to have them make the user vulnerable to mental suggestion through pheromones, would we not be able to effectively control the actions of the citizens of Rapture? Free will is the cornerstone of this city. The thought of sacrificing it is abhorrent. However… we are indeed in a time of war. If Atlas and his bandits have their way, will they not turn us into slaves? And what will become of free will then? Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Ryan and his ideology are responsible for the splicers and he continues to exploit the citizens of Rapture even further via pheromones. The same audio log that explains how Ryan can control splicers shows his true nature: one who is willing to compromise his ideology so long as it serves him. Ryan doesn’t actually care about allowing the people of Rapture to benefit from the freedom given when government and religion is removed, he just wants a place where he can benefit freely without having to give anything to help those below him. Ryan wants complete and total freedom, but if Atlas is going to turn the lower class against him, then Ryan is okay with taking away that freedom he used to lure people to Rapture in the first place.

Ryan’s adversary, Fontaine, is a con man who saw in Rapture the opportunity of a lifetime. Realizing that Ryan cared little for those who could not pull themselves up by their bootstraps and ascend the socio-economic ladder stacked against them, Fontaine gathered and empowered this collection of people to fight for him against Ryan. While Ryan surrounded himself with artists such as Sander Cohen and scientists like Yi Suchong and Brigid Tenenbaum, Fontaine created housing for the poor and orphaned. Fontaine did not do this out of the goodness of his heart in order to free these people from their oppressors. Instead he converted them into Adam addicts, turning them into the splicers who you, the player character, kill throughout your time in Rapture. Fontaine turned them over to death and tortured living by feeding them Adam, all so that he could kill Ryan and take full control of Rapture.

These sad saps. They come to Rapture thinking they're gonna be captains of industry, but they all forget that somebody's gotta scrub the toilets. What an angle they gave me... I hand these mugs a cot and a bowl of soup, and they give me their lives. Who needs an army when I got Fontaine's Home for the Poor?

While the poor had ample reason to turn against Ryan, even some in the upper class found themselves dissatisfied with Ryan’s utopia. Sander Cohen was an artist who was very sensitive to criticisms of his work and who grew to despise Ryan for damning him to a city full of doubters who couldn’t see the brilliance in his work. As Rapture fell, and Cohen descended into Adam fueled madness, he began to regard people as disposable as paint brushes and their bodies as merely canvases for him to use. Cohen isn’t actually a very good artist, as his masterpiece is simply a collection of photographs of dead bodies of former disciples. Most of his work is never seen or heard; the player merely comes across various corpses encased in plaster and placed in poses around Fort Frolic, whether that’s sitting at a dinner table or casting shadows in a spotlighted bathroom.

I know why you've come, little moth. You've your own canvas. One you'll paint with the blood of a man I once loved.

Despite being a hack artist, he does reveal some insight into the production behind Bioshock as a game: that the location of Rapture is the player’s canvas upon which the choices made during gameplay begin to create an image determined by your style. The lasting impression left by Bioshock is one the player created, as well as the one the developers presented in its characters. Bioshock is a stage play, yes, but one in which the player is able to arrange and execute their own scripts in between monologues.

The creator of Adam, the catalyst for Raptures downfall, was Brigid Tenenbaum. She survived the Nazi concentration camps of World War 2 due to her betrayal of her own kind by aiding the Nazi’s in their “science” expirements on prisoners. In Rapture she discovers the foundation for what would become Adam and despite knowing its addictive and deteriorating effects on humans continued to develop it for Fontaine in return for funding. She initially detested the Little Sisters but realized her hatred for them was really for herself. Although her Adam creation process was already standardized she began seeking a way to reverse what she had done.

One of the children came and sat in my lap. I push her off, I shout, "Get away from me!" I can see the ADAM oozing out of the corner of her mouth, thick and green. Her filthy hair hanging in her face, dirty clothes, and that dead glow in her eye... I feel... hatred, like I never felt before, in my chest. Bitter, burning fury. I can barely breathe. And suddenly, I know, it is not this child I hate.

Early on in Bioshock you are required to obtain a key from Dr. Steinman in order to progress. Steinman is a former surgeon who began to pursue creating the perfect body via Adam and his own sculpting which frequently led to “failure” and the death of the subject. He rejected the Hippocratic Oath, which Rapture’s ideology allowed for, and instead was more interested in serving his own interests than that of his patients. It is hinted at that this venture of his began prior to New Year’s Eve 1958, the fall of Rapture. You come across his many creations throughout the medical ward, usually bloodied bodies seemingly stapled to the walls. This pursuit for beauty consumed him just as much as the Adam consumed his mind and showed him visions of Aphrodite, the goddess he sought to please and gain advice from. As the first major character the player kills in Bioshock, he also serves as the template for the effects Adam had on the populace, and how it drove people deeper into their own obsessions.

I am beautiful, yes. Look at me, what could I do to make my features finer? With ADAM and my scalpel, I have been transformed. But is there not something better? What if now it is not my skill that fails me... but my imagination?

Rapture, as a place without regulation, is one where people are free to kill those who stand in their way, where people freely go missing, to experiment on people with your scalpel in the pursuit of beauty, where everything is privately owned and has a price. Ryan frequently denounced the “parasite” the altruistic leanings of liberals to utilize the power of the many to help the poor. Parasites are those who would seek to undermine free enterprise through the hacking of vending machines or by gaining something without putting in the work to earn it. Rapture is free from social programs and regulations that would bog the market down. And in return, Rapture destroyed itself through the lack of structured law and common goodwill.

Ryan’s philosophy is one of selfishness, of providing for you and only you and if someone was unable to provide it was their own fault. This Ayn Rand philosophy fails as the exploitation of those below the elites can only be tolerated for so long before rebellion. Even without Fontaine, the lower classes’ anger would have run over into violent revolution. Adam merely sped up this process by giving regular people the power to create fire literally at their fingertips.

Despite any abhorrence for this type of thinking, Ryan’s charisma and frequent postulating can momentarily keep you enthralled. I despised his unwillingness to help the poor, but I couldn’t help but wish that he had prevailed over Atlas prior to his unfortunate meeting with a golf club. Ryan is the greatest asset of Bioshock, and his death serves as the climax of the game, even if it continues on towards a stock revenge plot afterwards. Rapture dies with Ryan.

You can kill me, but you will never have my city. My strength is not in steel and fire, that is what the parasites will never understand.

#Bioshock #Andrew Ryan #Fontaine #Rapture #Irrational Games #Criticism #writing

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thecooperanderson-blog1 · 5 years

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spurious

Who: Cooper Anderson ft Aza Jabari, and a lot more people in his mind. Location: Cooper’s mind. Time: 24th October, 2018, night. Summary: Cooper thinks someone is playing games with him. Triggers/Notes: blood and violence. You have to read this one first.

Cooper is sitting on his sofa at his apartment, glass of wine in hand and papers all over the table of a recent case, but he wasn’t even paying attention to that anymore. Aza is sitting next to him, her legs crossed over each other, and a blanket over her, she has a glass of wine on her hand too. They met because Aza had something important to tell him. She informed Cooper of recent information she came across, it was still an investigation in progress, but she showed him some messages from an supposed secret chat she discovered. She didn’t get into detail but the messages spoke for themselves.

They had been chatting for a while, and now they were in a comfortable silence. They both drink wine, Aza chuckles, extending her legs toward where Cooper is sitting and putting them over his lap. He throws his head back over the backrest and sighs.

“Did you talk to Bee?” she says leaving her empty glass over the table, she had an habit now of calling Blaine that because Tina and Cooper did.

“What…” he asked as if he didn’t listen but then answered “Y- No… his boyfriend contacted me though… so awkward” he yawns.

“Really?” she asks surprised as she tucks the blanket a little “What did he… what did he wa…” she interrupts herself yawning as well.

Cooper notices his head bouncing, maybe he drank too much, maybe he hadn’t rest enough, but his eyelids felt heavy, he tries to move, opening his eyes a little, he didn’t want to be disrespectful with Aza and just fall asleep, but inevitably, they both do.

Cooper opens his eyes, he is on the floor, it’s hard and cold. He wonders if he fell asleep so sudden that he fall to the floor, but when he actually looks around he realizes he is not on his apartment anymore. There is a door in front of him oddly placed in the middle of the room. The whole place is white, almost as if it was a replica, a model of a real house he knew so well.

This wasn’t the current residency of the Andersons, this was the house he knew as his home, where he grow up, well, it wasn’t exactly the house, but an almost perfect copy of it, if it wasn’t for the lack of color. He stands up, observing the door in front of him, he walks around it, the sound of his shiny expensive shoes resonating in the empty space, the door is just there connected to nothing, he could walk around it. He tries to make sense of the situation, but it’s hard. The rest of the house looks perfect, every door, window, furniture, stairs, every single detail is replicated to perfection, though it all seemed extremely fake.

Suddenly he hears a sound coming from the single door, it sounded like the voice of a child and the song of a small bird.

“Hello?” the boy said at the other side “Hello? Mr Cardine?” he says louder “I can’t get out of here, please, help me get out”

Cooper doesn’t think about it twice, he isn’t sure yet where he is, or what is this place, but the psycho that was recreating his house apparently also kidnapped a child and he needed to do something.

“Get away from the door” he announces before he runs and pushes it with his body as strong as he can. The door opens and Cooper falls to the floor, realizing that, he just appeared at the other side, and now there was a young boy standing next to him and looking down.

“You scared my bird away” the boy cries, Cooper only listens to the song far away as wings flutter, but he isn’t capable of seeing any bird. However, he let’s that detail slip away because he can’t process what is just happening.

“Wh-” Cooper looks at the boy and the boy looks back at him. That boy looked how he was as a kid. “What the fuck”

“Shhhh” Young Cooper says putting his finger to Cooper’s mouth “You can’t say that, that’s a bad word”

Cooper doesn’t know what to say to that, he just moves the kid’s hand away from him and stands up, cleaning his white suit nervously even though there was nothing to stain it.

“Mr Cardine” Young Cooper calls him “Are you going to help me find my bird?”

“Your bird?” Cooper wonders confused as he observes the kid more carefully. He is wearing a shirt, shorts and sport shoes, his whole outfit is black, his knees are scratched, and he has some bandaids on his arm, his cheeks are rosy and his intense blue eyes bright and cheerful as his attitude. His hair dark and messy, that kid doesn’t look as the kid Cooper was, but the kid he may had wanted to be “Sure…” he said “I’ll help you out”

“Yay” Young Cooper celebrates “I think it went over there” he starts running excitedly leaving Cooper behind.

“Wait!” Cooper follows him trying to run as fast, but when he turns a corner he can’t see the kid “Where did he go?” he asks nobody. He keeps walking hoping to find the kid somewhere near, the house was big but not that big to lose him forever.

There are more doors than he remembers, most of them locked with visible white locks and chains. Cooper thought that was odd, and decided to open one of them. Strongly locked, a spell possibly or so he deduced, though it seemed to be a way to enter because he could hear voices on the other side.

“Jonathan…” he identified the voice of his father raising and discussing with someone else, that he will soon discover as she spoke, as well in an angry tone “mom…” he grabbed the knob and shook it, but the door won’t open and the voices kept raising and discussing “Aether, just…”

“JUST SHUT UP” Young Cooper appeared near him and hit the door with his small fist “STOP FIGHTING, STOP HATING EACH OTHER, I JUST WANT A HAPPY FAMILY” he kept punching the door and started crying.

Cooper looked down at the child horrified, was this a sick joke? Someone wanted to mock him for recently wishing to fix his familial relationships? or maybe for fucking over the only significant one he had? He grabbed the kid by the shoulder coldly and moved him away from the door “Let’s get out of here, let’s find your damn bird” the kid looked up at him and cleaned his tears then followed.

“I think” Young Cooper sniffs “I hear it over there” he starts running again, though Cooper wonders if out of excitement to find the bird or shame to be seen crying. He follows at a steady pace and arrives to the living room, where often the family will host reunions. He sees a young blonde woman in a black dress. She is standing there looking out the window, but he wonders at what she is staring exactly, everything seems empty.

The woman turns around and he can see her better, her dress is a wedding dress but is black, and she is no other than Francine Fabray. He walks towards her with a bittersweet smile, wondering if whatever this is the metaphors aren’t a little bit cheesy.

“Cards over the table” she says extending her hand to him as if asking for a dance, he finds this odd but he accepts it and they start swinging slowly around the room in perfect synchrony “This is our time” she tells him confident “We can win if we find the right alliances”.

“Win?” he asks confused “Win what?”

“Win the game” she moves away and spins in her beautiful dress then comes closer.

“You can’t win a game of chess with cards, that’s incorrect, that’s absurd, they would never allow it” he insists as if for a moment let himself go into the madness around him and understanding what it is supposed to mean.

“Then let’s change the rules, let’s change the whole damn game” she stops the dance, but their hands are still holding each other “I already made my choice” she let’s go of his hand “Make your move”.

Cooper is left standing in the middle of the room, he is less confused now, things are starting to mean something, but he fails to comprehend why this is happening. He turns around as if to ask one more thing to Francine but she has left and he quickly runs out to find her but instead, he collides with someone else in the corridor.

“Blaine!” he exclaims, his brother is also wearing white “Blaine, thank aether, maybe you can…” he stops himself, an overwhelming sensation of guilt forms in his chest as he looks at his brother’s face. How could he ask him for help? “Are you okay?” he finally asks.

Blaine opens his mouth but there is no sound, he smiles, he seems his normal cheerful self, but no word he is pronounces actually makes a noise. Cooper looks at him confused, even touching his own ears as if that would tell him if he is suddenly deaf or something else is going on.

Blaine looks at him and moves his mouth, his expression looks as if he made a question, but Cooper doesn’t know what to answer.

Blaine insists again.

No response.

Blaine starts to look bothered, angry, his mouth moves, maybe asking the same question, maybe saying something else, but even if he looks like he is shouting, Cooper is unable to hear.

“Blaine, I’m sorry, I don’t know what you are saying, I can’t hear” Cooper is walking backward as Blaine approaches him, until his back leans towards the railing of the stairs. Blaine hands grab him by the collar and push him a little more to the edge “Blaine… I can’t listen”

“Yes, you can… you just choose not to” Blaine voice finally makes a sound but is broken, Cooper only barely hears it as he feels his body falling down to the floor. He can swear he hears the flapping of a bird’s wings.

The fall should have killed him but he barely feels pain, he just notices the cold floor under him, a pair of shoes seem to approach him and a familiar voice speaks.

“Cooper Jonathan” Regina talks “Don’t waste my time and stand up”

Cooper opens his eyes and looks around, his grandmother looks regal in a white dress. He stands up and then realizes something has changed. The floor that used to be completely white now it's divided into black and white squares.

“What…” He looks in front of him, and several people are there dressed all in black, some of them are fallen to the floor, bleeding, others are standing in different squares and in a defensive position.

Francine Fabray, Sean Weston, Eleonora and Aza Jabari are still standing.

He looks at Aza with worry, she is the only one who wasn’t known by Regina, and he feels the fear crawling through his spine to the back of his head. But she seems prepared, Aza is wielding a sword and wearing an armor.

“Are you thinking about changing teams?” Young Cooper enters the scene again, his black outfit finally makes sense as he stands with the others in the chess table. And then he realizes, of course.

He turns around, perfectly matching each other, his whole family dressed in the purest white. His grandmother in the back line, Jonathan and Cassandra on each other’s side a few steps behind him, and his brother, that now was stepping forward, stood next to him.

“So this is what is all about?” he looks at his younger self.

“Took you long enough” the kid smiles.

“What…like I should feel surprised… as if… I didn’t know already… that we are all pawns in her game, and that I can’t really do nothing to stop this”

“Sure, go ahead and try to outsmart yourself”

“Hah…” Cooper laughs bitterly “Did I really make myself live this nightmare to learn something I already knew?”

“Maybe you actually needed to hear it out loud” the kid says “or maybe you needed to learn the rules of the game again” he takes a step forward in diagonal to the square where Cooper is “pawns can become queens too” with a quick move the younger Cooper makes his soul armament appear and stabs adult Cooper through the chest “you are out, too slow.”

As Cooper bleeds out and falls on his knees over a black square he clenches his teeth. He will lose consciousness in a moment, but before he falls he looks up to see a face for the last time.

“B...Blaine”

#p: shadow para #//dont look at me like that #at least i wrote it lmao #cw: blood #cw: violence

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