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lyntonier · 3 years

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A train to Paris

Carmen Sandiego x Gray Calloway

Summary: Carmen is taking a break away from her work — helping out at the Orphanage and fighting crime — and decides to take a trip back to Paris, a location she quite enjoyed. During her journey she meets a familiar face she believed she would not see again.

A/N: This is set after season 4.

"So Carms, I hear you are off to Paris for the week huh?"

I smile into the phone, listening to Ivy's comment.

"You heard correct. Well, assuming nothing goes wrong, that is".

I had gotten a break from working at the Orphanage with my Madre, so I decided to take myself on a little trip. We had finally met about eleven months ago, and I had been helping around as much as I possibly could without a break. Well, I tell a lie, I had a couple days free from working with Madre, though I used those days to check for any crime around. I guess some habits die hard huh, this was meant to be my new start but I can't seem to leave fighting crime behind. It was my choice to work so much at the Orphanage though.

Madre had had enough and told me to take a week away and go someplace, so where better than Paris? The beauty of the city when the sun goes down and the lights come on again, the food, the art and architecture, the history, it's simply something I cannot forget. It's truly a once in a lifetime thing.

"Wow, I'm so jealous! I wish I could be there with you, it would be so much fun- Zack stop! Leave Julia alone. No- She probably does NOT appreciate that, so quit it... Yes, you, who else?!.......... Sorry Carms, it's Zach trying to flirt with Julia again".

Giggling at Ivy's scolding to her brother, I make a mental note to tease him about that when I next see him. He kept flirting with the poor woman, to which she would politely laugh and make an excuse to leave.

"No worries Ivy, it's alright. I must admit though, I do feel sorry for Julia in some respects".

"I know right! Gosh, he's so oblivious sometimes. I love him anyway though, no matter how much of a douche brain he is".

"It would be nice to be able to meet up with all of you again, it's been a while since I saw all of you properly. You'll have to let me know when you two both have some time off and I'll get hold of Shadowsan and Player, then we can all have a nice catch-up".

I hear Ivy sigh wistfully into the phone, light laughter leaving her lips.

"Honestly Carms, that seems like such a good idea right about now. I'm so tired with work, I got called out five times within the past two days, three of which were last night. I've not had a nice snooze in for ages and I could do with one right about now, haha."

"You do sound quite tired. When do you get off shift?"

"Uuuh, hold on....... Forty-five minutes, then I can go home".

"Well, you should treat yourself to a warm bubble bath and a long rest".

"I think I'll take that one and do just that. Ah- I've got to shoot, Cheif is calling for me. I'll call you tomorrow and we can talk more, yeah?"

"Yes, wouldn't miss it for the world. Tell the others I said hello for me? And I'll work on arranging a girls trip between you and me to somewhere, just let me know where you fancy going".

"Oh you're a star Carm, I'll be looking forward to that then. I'll decide tonight and let you know tomorrow, and I'll pass on your 'hellos' to the others. Talk soon Carm".

I smile into the phone, mildly disappointed that our conversation had to end so soon.

"Talk soon Ivy".

With that, I hear the beep of an ended call as Ivy hangs up the line. A sudden wave of exhaustion washes over me as I move my phone down to my lap, checking the time. It was 1:15 in the morning. Raising my eyebrows, I nod at my phone, surprised at how late it was. I should probably try to get some sleep as I'll be arriving at my stop in about seven hours from now and I would much prefer to not be falling asleep at every given moment.

Setting my phone down next to myself, I grab a blanket out of my carry bag and drape it over my lap, removing my jumper and folding it into four before placing it onto the seat to my left. Reaching up above myself, I pull a cord that turned off the lights in my little train booth, engulfing myself in darkness. The only form of light that I had at this stage was the gentle light from the moon, it would be full soon. Laying down, I place my head onto my jumper and pull my blanket up higher, closing my eyes and relaxing my body.

Right as I began to doze off, I felt a strange feeling of wariness make itself known in my gut, enticing me to sit up and evaluate my surroundings. Within a couple of seconds of having my eyes open, I heard a light tapping on my booth door. Someone was there. Averting my eyes to the glass section of the door, I keep my body motionless as I trace the figure with my eyes and their every possible movement.

If I stayed still then they would not see me and assume I was sleeping and most likely leave.

*tap, tap, tap*

"Excuse me, uh, I know you are awake.. can I come in? My booth has no heating and it's really cold out here".

Or maybe not.

Cautiously eyeing the door, I slowly raise myself from the seats and brace my hand into a fist, ready to fight off a possible threat. Standing tall, I cautiously step my way over to the door before grasping the cool metal handle with one hand and undoing a lock with the other. Twisting the handle, I edge the door open bit by bit.

"Hello... Um.. yes you may".

It was a man, not that much taller than me, and Australian. Or perhaps Kiwi. I couldn't see many of his facial features, other than the fact that he had a man bun and a couple bags with him. I wracked my brain for any vocal recognitions, however, nothing matched.

Standing aside, I made room for the strange man to come inside.

"Cheers mate, sorry 'bout how odd this is. I went to the train staff to ask about the heating and they told me that the booth I chose was meant to be closed, though the person on duty of closing it off didn't get around to it, hence me choosing the unlucky booth. They told me I would have to ask to share booths with somebody else seen as though all others are booked, and I saw your light go out, so I came here. Sorry and cheers again".

The man laughed, rubbing what I assumed was the back of his neck. His explanation seemed pretty truthful and his reasoning honest.

"That's no problem, sorry that you got a faulty booth, that must've sucked".

"Hah, tell me 'bout it" He joked.

Smiling, I close the door and return to my seat, watching as he put his bags in the overhead luggage area, leaving out a blanket of his own. Smart man.

"So, what's your name mate?"

"Carmen. And you?"

I see him whip his head around, before shaking it and laughing lightly.

"I had a friend called Carmen, though I've not seen her in a long time. My name is Grah-Grayson. Grayson".

I raise my eyebrow at his stutter, smirking lightly.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Grah-Grayson" I tease.

"Haha, as to you Carmen".

With that, we both fell silent, just basking in the pleasant atmosphere of the booth with the same idea of sleep on our minds.

Slipping back into my 'bed', I pull my blankets back over myself and close my eyes, listening carefully at everything around me. I hear some stuffing around, something dropping on the floor, followed by a second something, more shuffling, then a satisfied sigh. Peering over my shoulder, I see the outline of a body laying on the seat across from mine.

"Did you just take your shoes off?"

"Hm? Ah yeah mate, can't sleep with shoes on, that's just crazy".

Grah-Grayson laughs at his own statement, finding humour in my question.

I feel my lips draw into a thin line as I shuffle my feet around awkwardly, my shoes very much still on.

Am I crazy?

"G'd'night mate, thanks again for letting me in on such short notice".

"No, no, that's fine. Goodnight".

It felt strange saying goodnight to a stranger, though I had most definitely done stranger.

I feel my eyes shoot open rather rapidly, my heart pounding against my ribcage as I scramble to sit upright, taking in my surroundings eagerly before eyeing the strange man in the booth with me. I check the room once again for anything out of the ordinary, before removing the blanket from my body and standing, striding my way over the door and yanking it open silently and slipping out, closing it behind myself. I needed some fresh air.

Making my way to the end of the train, I open a door that leads to a small balcony attached to the carriage. Immediately the wind hits me, blowing my hair to the side.

Sucking in a deep breath of air, I relax my shoulders and close my eyes. I had a nightmare — rather a memory — that Coach Brunt had broken into my booth and tied me up, much like before, and decided that enough was enough and planned to end things then and there.

A pretty sad nightmare, huh.

I enjoy the breeze a little longer before turning around and opening the door, walking back into the train carriage and back to my booth. Opening the door, I am surprised to see Grah-Grayson awake and sat upright, watching out of the window at the scenery. It was early for him to be awake, it was about five in the morning and the sun had begun rising, casting a gentle glow in the booth.

"Ah, mate, there you are, are you alr-......."

The words leave his mouth as he stares at me in surprise, horror, happiness, sadness and recognition... a mix of everything. Exactly what I was feeling.

Tears fill my eyes as I gaze at the male before me. It couldn't be...

"G-Gray?"

"Black sheep..?."

Grah-Grayson stands up, tears in his own eyes as he stares at me intently.

Stepping forward, I feel my arms raising slightly and before I knew it I was lunging for him, sobs wreaking through my lips as tears flowed heavily from my eyes. Engulfing him in my arms, I feel him do the same with just as much ferocity. I hear sobs come from him too, his chest rising and falling quickly and sharply with each gasp of air.

Before anything could be said, I feel anger suddenly wash over me, leading me to remove my arms from around him and shove him away harshly, placing some distance between us.

A confused whimper leaves his mouth, clearly unintentionally, but before he could say anything I let months worth of hurt, confusion, upset and anger form into words and flow out freely.

"Gray where were you?! W-What did you mean 'don't tell her' that you woke up!! Do you know how long I waited for you to wake up in the hospital, unable to see you or hear from you, not knowing that you had long gone?! Do you- Do you know how long I WAITED fOR YOU? Three months Gray- three months that you were gone and I was waiting for you to wake up so that we could start over, so that I could know you were okay!" The words kept flowing out, no matter how much I tried to stop them. Although I didn't try. I couldn't bring myself to try. I started pacing back and forth as I rambled, making sure the emphasis on certain words came out.

"Carmen, let me explain, I-"

I cut him off, anger still clouding my better judgement.

"NO Gray, you don't get to explain until you hear me!! I searched EVERYWHERE for days, weeks, months for you, thinking that something had happened to you, only to be told by Chief that you had requested to not have your condition or whereabouts revealed to me! Why Gray, why..? If you were angry or upset at me and didn't want to see me, you could have just told me instead of making me worry like that! I spent so many nights awake trying to find out where you were with the help of Player, but nothing!! NOTHING!"

I heave out everything that has been resting on my shoulders, the feeling of relief evident on my shoulders as a weight had been lifted.

"Carmen I was never upset at you, more of I was upset at myself. It was my fault that you had been captured and lured in, I knew what was happening and I could have prevented it, but I didn't. I blamed myself for you being brainwashed and hurt, and for myself being hurt. I was such an idiot and I didn't want to do something that could hurt you again-"

"And yet you did.." I remark with a whisper, adverting my eyes as I crossed my arms over my chest, hugging myself and sniffling as I did so.

"I know and I'm sorry... I didn't want to interfere with your life, not after everything that had happened. VILE was caught and disbanded, you had information on your mother, everything was over and you had a fresh start ahead of you and I didn't want to get in the way of that. So, I changed my identity and lived away from the public eye, hidden away where you could not find me. It wasn't just a fresh start for you, it was one for me too... I asked for you to not be told of my departure, even though Cheif strongly suggested against it, the same with that Julia lady. I told them it was my only request, and they allowed it eventually. I now realise that wasn't a good idea and that it hurt you much more than I believed it could or would... I am so sorry Carmen.. I really am so, incredibly sorry.. I can't blame you if you are angry at me, I gue-"

"Of course I'm angry at you!! I finally realised after all of that time that I was in love with you, and I was prepared to tell you, only to find that you were gone! Those three months left in the dark were pure heaven compared to the.. the shitty, crappy, horrible feelings once I found out you were gone!"

I watch as Gray's eyes widen in surprise, as he stutters his next sentence, his face flushed from tears, much like my own.

"C-Carmen.. you- what did you just.. what did you just say?"

"That I realised after all of this time that I was in love with you, so very incredibly in love with you, and that I was prepared to tell you!" I growl.

We both stand there in silence, the cool feeling of my tears drying up on my face present. Sudden realisation dawns upon me at what I had just boldly announced. Smacking my hand over my mouth, I gasp, my eyes widening as the realisation finally sets in completely.

Nothing is said between us as we just stare one another in the eyes, waiting for the other to speak.

"Gray, I-"

I cut myself short as Gray abruptly strides towards me confidently, raising his hands to cup my cheeks as I step back, unsure of what was happening. Staring down into my eyes, Gray smiles gently.

"You always were a cheeky one, sneaking your way into my heart the way you did".

My stomach fills with butterflies at that, a small smile making its way onto my face, accompanied by little giggles. Soon enough, I was laughing uncontrollably into Gray's chest, him onto my shoulder.

The laughter died down soon after, we were just left with warm smiles on our faces.

Moving his hand across my face, his thumb stroking my cheek and his other hand caressed the back of my neck, he looks down at my lips before looking into my eyes.

"May I?"

That one sentence had my stomach doing flips as though I were a schoolgirl who just confessed her undying love to her crush and received the same feelings back, though I guess in some respects I was that schoolgirl, just a little older.

"You may".

With that, Gray leans down, pressing his lips gently against mine and pulling away. I did not feel those fireworks that people would describe a true-loves kiss as, rather I felt complete, safe, happy, joyous, excited, calm, at peace and so many more pleasant things, much better than those so described fireworks.

Leaning in for a second kiss, I met Gray halfway with just as much passion, more ferocity this time, however. Soon though, we had to depart for air, a gentle blush growing over both of our cheeks.

"Carmen, I-"

"Excuse me, are you two alright in there? I could faintly hear you arguing from next door".

Looking behind me, there was an older woman stood in the doorway, a concerned look on her face.

"Yes, we are alright madame, thank you for your concern. Sorry for the noise, everything is sorted now" I explain, turning to face the woman.

"Very well then, there is no need to apologise my dear, as long as you are both okay. Oh, and sorry for interrupting your moment"

The lady giggles cheekily, before making her way back to her booth while rambling on about young love, or something along the lines.

"We should probably close the door, no?"

"Yes, we should. You, mister, have a lot to explain to me, especially what you have been up to since we last saw one another".

I smile as I leave Grays embrace, walking to the door and closing it.

"As do you. We have a while till we reach my destination, so shall we?"

"Hmm... I say sleep and then explain at a later time, on a date perhaps?"

"Friday, 8PM at Au Vieux Paris d'Arcole?" Grey wiggles his eyebrows, a smile on his face as he does so.

Laughter bubbles in my throat as I sniffle, wiping away any tear streams on my face as I nod my head eagerly.

"Call it a date".

A/N: This is my first ever oneshot/story piece that I've done on here and I honestly do not know how good it is, or how bad it is. All I can hope is that it's decent. It was inspired by @wizardsoffthecoast who had mentioned something about this, so here we are. I hope you enjoy it!

(I do apologise for any spelling mistakes!)

#carmen sandeigo netflix #red crackle #gray calloway #carmen x gray

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mandoalorian · 3 years

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Shopping with Maxwell Lord

READ PART TWO HERE

DAY FIVE: Shopping with Maxwell Lord [This is the one I really wanted to write for myself and my own self indulgent needs!]

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added!)

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes

December Writing Challenge: @mandos-blaster @silent-and-resigned @valentinasubmarina

December Writing Challenge Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Warnings: allusions to sex, mention of orphanages and losing parents, Maxwell really wants a baby...

Word count: 2.7k

Rating: PG-13

Maxwell stood there, front and centre of the living room, in front of the television, frowning. A crinkle in between his brown eyebrows and his arms crossed over his chest. "Max?" you asked, looking at him with bewilderment. He didn't reply. "Max, can you move? I'm trying to watch A Christmas Carol." Maxwell sighed, moving out the way and slumping on down on the couch next to you. You continued watching the black and white movie for only a few seconds before tossing your head back and pausing it. "What?" you asked Maxwell and he narrowed his eyes.

"What?" he repeated, his tone almost accusing.

"Why are you so miserable?" you asked him and he shrugged, looking away from you and back at the paused TV. "Hello? Cat got your tongue?" you quizzed, causing him to roll his eyes. "Talk to me."

"I just-" Maxwell took a deep breath. "I hate the time of year. I mean, since meeting you, it's been better. It's been so much better but still… it still feels tainted by my past." he revealed. You wrapped your arm around him and lay your head into his lap. He found his fingers smoothing out your hair, bringing him a sense of comfort and belonging. "I don't know what to do."

You thought for a moment, glancing back at the paused television and back up at your boyfriend. "You remind me of Scrooge." you said out loud.

"Excuse me?" Maxwell asked and you giggled, reaching over to grab the remote and press play on the television.

"Ebeneezer Scrooge from A Christmas Carol," you clarified, pointing at the character on the television. "He was always miserable around Christmas. He made his business associate work in the cold and he never gave to charity… but then three ghosts came to visit him and he changed into a better, kind hearted and more generous man."

"Wow," Maxwell scoffed. "You really know how to make me feel better." he said sarcastically and you slapped his arm playfully. "I don't see the resemblance. I give to plenty of charities and I never make my employees work in the cold… and what is he wearing?"

"Maxie," you laughed. "It's set like, 100 years ago. Listen, I think you're wonderful. You give so much already. And I love you no matter what but… Christmas in particular is a time for giving back. Helping those who are less fortunate than ourselves. I think it could really bring you a kind of happiness. It'll keep you occupied and-"

"You have something in mind, don't you?" Maxwell sighed and your lips curled into a grin.

"Maybe…." you smirked, your eyes sparkling with excitement and desire. Maxwell loved to see you happy.

"Okay, what is it?" He asked and you sat up, taking his hands and giving them a gentle squeeze.

"When I was in the city the other day, I saw that the orphanage have been asking for donations. They're saying they'll accept anything. They just want the children to have a Christmas they'll never forget." you explained and Maxwell nodded. He was one of the biggest investors for the orphanage in DC. As a child, he knew how it felt to feel left behind. "So Max, what if we give them a Christmas they'll never forget?"

"Send more money?" he asked, already reaching for his checkbook.

"No. No that's...not what I meant." you shook your head.

"Well what do you propose?"

"Shopping!" you beamed and Maxwell sighed. "C'mon, it'll be fun." You grinned, pulling him off the sofa and wrapping your arms around him.

"It's Christmas Eve, the mall is going to be chaos." Maxwell shook his head in dismay.

"We are going shopping Maxwell." you said sternly. "Trust me on this one."

You pulled him over to the lobby and passed him his winter coat, scarf and gloves before swinging on your own faux fur jacket and wooly hat. "You can make up for this tonight." Maxwell told you, playfully smacking your ass as you opened the front door. You laughed and rolled your eyes before taking your boyfriend's hand and pulling him outside.

Maxwell was right. The mall was chaos, but luckily everyone was in a world of their own, too focused on getting their last minute Christmas shopping in before the big day tomorrow. "What's the plan?" he asked as you analysed the map of the mall, trying to figure out the most efficient route.

"We get toys and clothes and…" you looked up at Max. "100 kids live in that orphanage. We're going to do the absolute best we can for them, okay?"

"Okay." Maxwell agreed and you took his hand.

"Okay," you confirmed. "Let's go."

The first stop was a department store. It was bustling like you had never seen before. You and Maxwell both decided it would be best if you split up and went your separate ways before reuniting at the main entrance with your shopping. Taking control, like he always did, Maxwell told you to pick up toiletries while he'd look at the children's clothes.

You found yourself grabbing bubblegum flavoured toothpaste and princess pirate toothbrushes and washcloths, mermaid bubble bath and astronaut shower gel. You were practically pushing everything you could find into your shopping basket, trying your hardest to ignore the heaviness and the way your arm ached from the weight of it. You grabbed some fruity fragranced body spray for the slightly older girls and some deodorant for the preteen boys before heading to the checkout.

Maxwell Lord in the children's clothing section of the busiest DC department store was something else. He was surrounded by pink fluffy cardigans made for two year olds and onesies with little trains printed on them. Maxwell was someone who had a key eye for fashion, and while you were someone who wanted to grab everything you could, Maxwell really valued the quality. He strutted over to the designer brand section and picked out a dozen pairs of cashmere socks, winter UGG boots, Gucci jackets and white, frilly, made in Milan dresses.

But then his eye caught on something. It wasn't designer, it was a small, pale yellow babygrow with the words "Daddy's little princess" embellished in pink glitter writing. It was the smallest thing he had ever seen and he was enamoured. He stared at it for a few moments, before it was snatched away by a middle aged red faced woman with her hair scraped back into a ponytail.

"Hey!" Maxwell shouted, spinning around and pointing his finger at the woman. "That's mine." he frowned, angry that she had taken the last one.

"Finders keepers." she snarled.

Maxwell tore his hat from his head and removed his sunglasses. "Do you know who I am?" he quizzed bitterly, his hand taking place on his hip.

The woman gasped, her mouth parting slightly. "Oh- oh my god," she said with shock dripping from her tongue. "You're! You're Maxwell Lord! The King of Infomercials!!! I just seen you on the television in the electronics department!"

Maxwell smirked, satisfied with his reputation and influence he had over people. "Yeah, that's me. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to need that uh…" he didn't even know what to call the babygrow, instead gesturing aimlessly towards it.

"Okay!" the woman beamed, "But could I get an autograph and a kiss on the lips?"

Maxwell's frown deepened. "What?"

She scrambled around in her purse for a pen and handed it to him, rolling up her sleeve. "Sign me!"

"On- on your arm?" Maxwell asked and she nodded eagerly. Maxwell removed the lid and swiftly signed his name over her skin before handing her the pen back.

"Oh wow," she blushed, fanning herself before pouting her lips.

"Yeah, not happening." Maxwell sighed. "I'm not kissing you." The woman knotted her eyebrows together and straightened herself up, but before she could retort, Maxwell snatched the babygrow from her arms and ran to the elevator. "Nice doing business with you!" he grinned, waving his arms and running away."

After paying for the goods, you and Maxwell met back up and made your way, this time together, to the toy store. "Reminds me of when I was a kid," Maxwell smiled at the memory as he took your hand and looked up and down the shelves in awe. "My dad would take me here every year to pick out a new toy for Christmas. It was one of the only times we got to spend with each other." You hummed, leaning your head into his shoulder. Maxwell grabbed a few stuffed animals and threw them into the shopping cart. "I can't wait for the day I have kids." he announced.

"I thought you didn't want children?" you asked, your voice soft at the thought of your boyfriend being a father.

"I thought for so long I didn't want kids…" Maxwell admitted.

"I think you'd be an amazing father," you told him, squeezing his hand, only making his smile grow further. "Hey, we should get a few of these new electronic train sets! And the new Little Mermaid Barbies! What do you think?"

"I like how you think." Maxwell replied, pressing a kiss into your forehead as you picked out the dolls.

It was around 2 p.m. on Christmas Day. You and Maxwell had just finished your dinner and you had slipped into a fleecy elf dress you had purchased at the mall a day prior. You revealed yourself to Maxwell who was laying on the sofa watching the television has his stomach settled from all the food he had enjoyed.

"Check me out!" you grinned, giving him a little twirl, the bells on your elf hat jingling. Maxwell's jaw dropped as he drunk in your appearance.

"Where on God's great earth did you get that?" he asked, looking slightly mortified.

"The costume department at the mall!" You laughed. "I thought I could wear it for when we visit the orphanage. Don't worry, I got you a little something too so you don't feel left out." You presented Maxwell with a full body Santa Claus costume. "Ta da!"

"Not a chance." Maxwell sighed.

"Come on!" you growled playfully. "I'm sure the kids would love Maxwell Lord giving them presents, they'd be star struck. But Maxie, they're kids. I think they'd love it even more if the presents were delivered by Santa Claus." Max grimaced, knowing you were absolutely right. "Please." you pouted, fluttering your eyelashes.

Maxwell sighed again, this time deeper. He could never deny you. "Fine," he grumbled. "I'll get changed and then we can go."

You squealed excitedly, kissing his cheek. "I love you so much Maxie," you said, and Maxwell felt a blush creep over his cheeks. "I just know you're going to be a great dad one day."

"My back hurts." Maxwell moaned as he adjusted the sack of presents over his shoulder. You chuckled, shaking your head as you carried bags of clothes and toiletries of the orphans.

"Proud of you," you assured him. "Almost there."

You practically melted when you saw the delight of the screaming children hurry over to your boyfriend and wrap their tiny arms around him. "Ho ho ho," Maxwell bellowed and you watched with complete adoration as he dropped the sack of presents and interacted with the children. "Have you all been good this year?" he asked and the kids screamed in affirmation.

"Santa Claus!" A little girl gasped, reaching her hands out and making grabby fists. "I thought you weren't coming this year." she admitted, her eyes glossy. Maxwell kneeled down so he was level with the child.

"My elf told me how good you had been this year," Max smiled, pointing at you. "What's your name darling?"

"Maxine," she smiled and you saw Maxwell soften.

"I like that name." Maxwell replied, pulling her into a hug. "Merry Christmas Maxine."

"Thank you Santa, will I see you next year?"

Maxwell looked at you and you nodded your head. "Of course, as long as you be a good girl, I'll come back next year."

Maxine grinned, before hugging Maxwell tighter, refusing to let go. Just then, a boy who you estimated to be about thirteen or fourteen tapped you on the shoulder. You spin around with your best elfish smile, but frowned when you saw the magazine he was holding. It was a tabloid with your face on the cover. You winced at the bad angle. "You look like Max Lord's girlfriend." he deadpanned.

Maxwell's head snapped towards you and the boy and he strolled over. "Well well well who is that beautiful lady?" he asked, taking the magazine from the boy and checking it out.

"Max Lord's girlfriend." the boy replied. "Your elf looks like her."

Maxwell pinched your cheek. "This elf? No, not a chance." Maxwell laughed and you gave the child an apologetic look. "This lady in the magazine is far too beautiful to look like my head elf."

You weren't sure whether you should feel offended or not. Little Maxine gasped, racing over. "You can't say that!" she squealed. "What about Mrs Claus?"

You smirked, leaning into Maxwell. "Yeah Santa, what about Mrs Claus?"

"Uh- well! Mrs Claus… I do love Mrs Claus very much and she's at home baking Christmas cookies so I better be on my way… but it was lovely to meet you all!" Maxwell waved and you stifled back a laugh.

"Please don't go." Maxine cried, hugging Maxwell's legs.

"Be good and I'll be back next year." Maxwell promised, patting her on the head.

"Promise you'll come back?" Maxine begged, tears in her eyes. You wondered how many times little Maxine had asked a parental figure to come back to her and been let down. Maxwell wondered the same, his heart breaking at the thought.

"I promise." Maxwell affirmed, raising back to his feet and placing a hand on the small of your back.

"Merry Christmas everyone! Enjoy your presents and remember to be good children. We hope to see you next year!" you said farewell with a cheery smile and the children waved back.

When you got home that evening, you slid out your elf shoes and took off your hat. "Can you help me get out of this dress?" you asked Maxwell, holding up your hair so he could reach the zipper.

"Actually…" Maxwell trailed off, biting his lip. "Maybe you could wear it for bed?" he suggested with a smirk.

"An elf? Really Max? You want me to be an elf?" you laughed in disbelief.

"Could be fun." he shrugged and you rolled your eyes, opting to leave the elf dress on as you clambered into the warm king sized bed, watching Maxwell as he got undressed. "Oh I almost forgot," Maxwell said, reaching into the bag from the department store yesterday. "Close your eyes." You followed his instruction as he dived into the bag and took out the pale yellow babygrow he had fought for. He padded over to the bed and sat down, placing the outfit in your hands. "Open."

Your lips parted slightly as you took in the embellished words 'Daddys little Princess'. You glanced back up at your boyfriend and gave him a questioning look. "I'm confused." you admitted and he took your hands, rubbing circles into your skin.

"I really want a kid," he whispered, looking into your eyes. "I know you do too, and when we've talked about it I've always shut you out but… damn it, I really want one. Do you think… I mean. What do you think-"

You cut him off by pressing a kiss into his lips and holding him tight. "Okay," you nodded, your voice croaking with all the pent up emotion, rubbing your nose against his. "Let's have a baby." you smiled and Maxwell grinned, pushing you into the bed and climbing on top of you.

READ PART TWO HERE

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #maxwell lord #max lord #maxwell lord x reader #ww84

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prettyboongi · 4 years

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BTS Reaction | They React to You Having a Weird Personality

[A/N: Hey gang! I’ve been meaning to post this earlier but somehow I got hit with major writer’s block （￣ε￣）so to the user who requested this, I’m really sorry I took so long to finish this. Hope you all enjoy!

Seokjin

When Jimin decided to tag along with you and Seokjin to go grocery shopping, he didn’t think much of it at first. He was running low on basics such as milk and soy sauce and, being his first time spending some time with you, he thought it would be a great time to get to know you better. And boy, did he.

The three of you were browsing the produce section of the grocery store when you suddenly wandered off somewhere. Jimin didn’t think much of it and continued to stay by Jin’s side, checking the ripeness of the cantaloupes. It was only when he heard you speaking nearby. You were talking in a cutesy voice, the kind one would use when speaking to a baby or small child. It was only when Jimin turned your way to find you speaking to either.

“Aww, aren’t you just the cutest thing ever!,” you cooed while holding a kiwi close to your face. “You’re so soft and fuzzy. Too bad you’re just too delicious otherwise I’d keep as a pet!”

“What the absolute fuck?,” Jimin murmured, totally dumbstrucked of what he was witnessing.

“What?,” asked Jin, too busy testing the cantaloupes.

“Y/N is talking to fruit… like it’s an animal or something.”

“Oh yeah, she does that sometimes. Pretty adorable, right?

Adorable wasn’t the right word Jimin was thinking of. Plain bizarre was more fitting. Or embarrassing as a handful of passersby gave quizzical looks at you. But you were too busy to notice, focusing on your conversation with the small, fuzzy fruit.

Mortified, Jimin calls out to you. “Ah, Y/N! Can you please quit it.? You’re being weird!”

Surprised but unfazed by Jimin’s outburst and overall embarrassment, you simply respond, “But come on, they just look so deliciously cute!” You even gave the kiwi a nice pet before lovingly rubbing it on your face.

Utterly speechless, Jimin continues to gawk at you like a freakshow. His attention does break from you when he feels a sudden pat on the shoulder. He turns around slightly to find Jin next to him with a sympathetic look on his face.

“There, there Jiminie.” says Jin, “you’ll come to love her weirdness.

And Jimin eventually did. Begrudgingly so.

Yoongi

You were sitting alone in a cafe, waiting for your boyfriend Yoongi to arrive. When he mentioned that he had some time out of his busy schedule to hang out, of course you took the opportunity. Although you admired his work ethic and dedication to BTS, you still wished there was more time to spend time together. And it was days like this that you truly look forward to.

He texted you he was running a bit late so all you could really do was wait patiently for him. A task that wasn’t so hard since you found yourself drifting into a daydream while staring out the window. It was only you heard the screech of the chair scooting that broke you from your daydream. You turn to the noise and see Yoongi sitting down in front of you. And with an unexpectant guess.

“Hey Y/N, sorry I’m late,” Yoongi greets you, “Hope you don’t mind that I brought Taehyung along.” Taehyung sits down next to Yoongi and shoots you a cheeky smile.

“No, I don’t mind,” you replied, “Now I have two of my favorite people in the world.” While there was a part of you that wanted to be alone with Yoongi, you were happy to see Taehyung as well. As an apology for being a third wheel, Taehyung even offered to order and pay for all your drinks: an Americano for Yoongi, a vanilla latte for you and a hot chocolate for himself.

Once the three of you were all settled with your drinks, you asked the two men how their day was.

“Surprisingly, it wasn’t too busy. Just going over…” you listen to Yoongi say before drifting into one of your vivid daydreams. You knew it was rude but sometimes you couldn’t help it, you get distracted way too easily. Yoongi knew this about you. This definitely wasn’t the first time you spaced out while he was speaking. Despite this, you always urge him to keep talking since you snapped out of it at some point.

However, Taehyung didn’t know this trait about you and proceeds to wake you up from daydream mode. With a loud snap of fingers he called out your name and your attention was now back to them.

“Oh sorry about that,” you said bashfully.

Unbothered, Yoongi took a sip of his coffee. “No, it’s fine babe. Seemed like you had a good daydream going on.” Both of you chuckled lightly but Taehyung stayed quiet. He wasn’t particularly annoyed by your daydreaming but he did think it was rude to not pay attention.

Half-jokingly, he retorted, “Wow hyung, who knew you were dating such a space cadet.”

“Huh?,” you responded. Taehyung’s seemingly lighthearted remark caught you off guard.

Taehyung chuckles. “I knew all knew you were ditzy but jeez.”

You didn’t know how to respond so you giggled nervously. Even though you knew he was joking around, the way he said it made you feel a bit embarrassed.

Seeing your reaction, Yoongi glares at Taehyung. “Hey, I’d appreciate you not making fun of my girlfriend.”

“But hyung, I was just-”

“I really don’t give a shit whether you were kidding or not, I want you to apologize to her.”

Knowing better to not disobey this particular hyung of his, Taehyung turns to you with apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he says genuinely.

You reached over to give his hand a comforting pat and smiled at him. “Thanks, Tae.”

You knew he was joking around but it was still nice to hear him apologize.

Hoseok

Everyone in the group knew how close you were to Hoseok. Dating for almost a year already, he was your entire world. Your rock. Your knight in shining armor. And because of his supportive and caring nature, you always went to him whenever you needed something. Hoseok made it clear to you that you could always rely on him.

“Hobi, can you please pick me up?” you’d ask him on the phone and Hoseok would immediately be on his way.

“Hobi can you open my bottle? It hurts my hand”, and he’d gladly open it for you.

“Hobi, I feel really scared and anxious right now, I need you,” and he would drop whatever he was doing to find and comfort you.

To some people, you would see this as Hoseok being a great boyfriend. However, others might just view it as a little too dependent. Others like Jungkook, apparently.

Jungkook didn’t have anything against you; he really liked for the most part. He just thought it was strange for a girl your age to be so reliant on someone, be it her boyfriend or not. He didn’t understand how someone as fiercely independent as his hyung would be interested in someone who is the complete opposite. It was an opinion that he kept to himself until one day.

You knew that today Hoseok and the guys had a dance practice and you thought it would be a great idea to make a surprise visit. On your way to the studio, you were about to turn a corner when you see your boyfriend and Jungkook in the hallway. It looked like they were having a serious conversation so you contemplated whether to wait until they were finished or greet them anyway. That’s when you hear your name being suddenly dropped.

“Y/N?,” Hoseok asks quizzically, “What about her?”

“I noticed that she’s been asking a lot of you lately, things that she could definitely do on her own,” Jungkook hesitantly begins, “I just find it odd that she’s that so dependent on you.”

You felt a rush of heat rising in you from shear embarrassment as you hid away the two men. You didn’t know that Jungkook thought this way about you and you worried if the other’s felt the same way. “Ugh, this is why you don’t eavesdropped, stupid,” you thought to yourself. You were about to leave when you heard Hoseok beginning to speak.

“To be perfectly honest, Jungkook, I like that fact that I’m the one Y/N comes to when she needs help. I like being needed, especially from someone I love. She’ll get to a point where she can be more self-reliant but I’m not going to rush her. So don’t worry too much about her or our relationship, okay?” He finishes his speech with a friendly pat on Jungkook’s shoulder.”

“Sorry, hyung. I didn’t mean to be rude,” he says with a guilty look on his face. Hoseok just responds with a hearty laugh as he puts his arm around the maknae and leads back to the dance studio.

Still standing behind that corner, you couldn’t help but contain the sweet smile on your face. You were still a bit dejected over what Jungkook said about you but the fact you had a boyfriend that will defend no matter what made you feel so blessed. He was truly your everything and you’d be lost without him.

You took a moment to compose yourself before heading towards the dance studio.

Namjoon

It was no secret to anyone that knew you that your favorite thing to eat was anything pickled. Growing up in a family that pickled everything from cucumbers to watermelon rinds, you always found comfort munching on the tangy, savory food. Your love for pickled foods reached an all new high when you moved to South Korea and fell totally in love with kimchi and all its regional variants.

To an outsider, they might see your love for pickled food a bit obsessive, but not Namjoon. Knowing how much you love eating them, he made sure stock up on your favorites at the dorm. So whenever you come over to hang out, you’ll have a tasty snack to eat. This sweet gesture made you love the man even more, if that was even possible in the first place.

The rest of Bangtan thought your obsession with pickles somewhat peculiar but also adorably quirky. Well everyone except for one person: Yoongi. As much as he enjoyed pickled foods himself, he personally thought you took it too far since he’d always catch you eating them. He even avoids sitting and speaking to you due to you sometimes smelling like strong brine. But he tried his best to hold his tongue since it didn’t hurt anyone.

One day, Yoongi walks into the living room of the dorm and finds you and Namjoon sitting at the table. You, of course, was enjoying some pickled okra your mother sent you in a care package.

“Hi, Yoongi!,” you squeaked as you got up to give him a hug.

Yoongi became rigid in your embrace but soon reciprocated the hug rather awkwardly. Pulling back from the hug, he says hurriedly, “Uh, I have to run some errands. See ya guys around,” then hightails it out the door.

His behavior leaves you puzzled. “What’s with him?,” you asked Namjoon but he just shrugs in response.

That very visit, you decided to spend the night at the dorm. You were walking out of the bathroom after brushing your teeth when you heard Namjoon and Yoongi talking in the next room. As you tippy-toed closer to that room, you quickly realized they were talking about you.

“I’m sorry Joon but I just think it’s her obsession with pickles is kinda gross,” Yoongi belts out, “I mean she eats them all the time.”

Before even hearing Namjoon's response, you quickly walked to his bedroom and buried yourself in his sheets. A few moments later, you hear Namjoon walk into the room and feel the bed slightly shake as he climbs into bed.

“You still awake, honey?,” he sweetly asks.

“Yeah,” you said in a somber tone, still buried under the sheets.

“Hey, is there something wrong?”

It takes you a moment before responding. “Do you think I’m gross, Joon?”

Namjoon sighs heavily. “I’m guessing you overheard our conversation. How much did you hear?”

“I only heard what Yoongi said then immediately went towards the room. Joonie, I’m sorry I’m like this.”

That’s when Namjoon pulled the covers from you and cupped your flustered face. “Hey, you have nothing to be sorry about. Who cares what you love to eat? I love you for who you are, Y/N. That’s what I told Yoongi hyung and now I’m telling you.” He then gives you a warm, gentle kiss on the lips.

Overwhelmed by Namjoon’s intense sincerity and affection, you felt your eyes start to water. “You don’t mind that my kisses sometimes taste like vinegar?”

Namjoon chuckles at your question. “Not one bit.”

Jimin

The guys decided it would be nice to have a relaxing movie night and you were invited to tag along.

“How long’s the movie?,” you asked?

“It’s pretty long,” Jimin says before he clicks the play button on the Netflix screen.

“Bet Y/N’s gonna pass out halfway towards the middle,” Taehyung jokes.

You scoff. “I’m not gonna fall asleep this time.” You said this with such confidence but the boys didn’t buy it. You were known to fall asleep at any time, at any occasion. Whether you were on a day trip or at an awards show, you’d often find yourself passing out somewhere, causing some slight embarrassment on your part. And unfortunately, tonight was no different.

“Baby, wake up,” Jimin softly says to you as he gently shakes you awake.

You quietly moaned as you sat up on the couch in the dorm’s living room. “Is the movie already over?” you said groggily, rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes.

Jimin faintly smiles at you. “Afraid so. 25 minutes in - a new record for you,” he teased. You gave him a quick glare.

“I had a strange dream. I wasn’t in it myself but you and Namjoon were there. Namjoon was kinda irritated and said something like ‘what’s the point in even inviting her to these things if she’s just going to fall asleep?’ Good thing it was just a dream, right?” You looked up at Jimin and saw a weird expression on his face. “What?”

He sighs and says, “That wasn’t a dream, Y/N. I was hoping you didn’t hear that.”

“So, Namjoon did say that,” you asked. Jimin nodded. Even though you were the one that fell asleep during the movie, you couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt and ashamed. You bit your lip before speaking again. “Is he mad at me?”

Jimin grabs your hands, gently caressing your finger. “Oh, not at all, sweetie. But even if he was mad, it doesn’t matter,” he says assuringly. “Wanna know what I told him?,” he asked you. You silently nod. “I told him that you’re my sleeping beauty and I wouldn’t change that about you.”

His lovely compliment catches you off guard, causing a light blush to appear on your face. Softly smiling at him, you respond, “You’re such a cheeseball, Park.”

Taehyung

You were out on a dinner date with your boyfriend Taehyung, and you were trying your best to hide your nervousness. It wasn’t the fact that you were out with Tae that made you nervous since you've been together for a few months already. What made you nervous was that this date was actually a double date with Hoseok and his own girlfriend. Even though this wasn’t your first time hanging out with anyone from the group, let alone Hoseok, you still get anxious in settings like this. Especially settings that involved eating. You didn’t consider yourself a gross eater, you just become hyper-aware when you eat around others. Heck, it took you awhile to feel comfortable eating around Taehyung.

The four of you were sitting together at a fancy restaurant, and you tried your best to ease your nervousness by engaging in the conversation. When the food arrived, all hope was lost as you felt the sensation of butterflies in your stomach. Everyone eagerly dug into their plates as you just sipped your water, hoping it will calm your nerves.

Taehyung poked your hand, getting your attention. “You alright, babe?”

You quickly nodded. “Yeah, I’m just not that hungry for some reason.”

Overhearing this, Hoseok turns your way with a cheeky smirk on his face. “What’s wrong, Y/N? Are you afraid we’ll all find out your disgusting eating habits?” he boffs.

Hoseok was merely kidding but his joke still managed to make you choke on your water. Taehyung rubs on your back for comfort as he gives a stern look to Hoseok.

“Hey, hyung,” he says in a rather serious tone, “Please don’t bully my honey pie.”

Hoseok scoffs in return. “Come on, I’m just kidding!,” he belts. Hoseok’s girlfriend proceeds to slightly hit him hard on the shoulder. “What did I do?”

She looks at him. “Like you’re one to Hoseok. Most of the time, you eat like a feral pig.”

You and Taehyung tried your best to stifle your laughter after hearing such a brutal dig. Although shocked at first, Hoseok just laughs it off and goes back to eating.

You then look at Taehyung and smile. “I think I’m actually hungry now.”

Jungkook

You were meeting the boys for the very first time today. Despite you and Jungkook’s relationship being relatively new, he just couldn't wait any longer to introduce you to his hyungs. While this made you feel extremely special, you were also scared out of your mind that you’ll embarrass yourself in front of them. Possibly making Jungkook regret being interested in you in the first place.

When you told Jungkook about your worries, he reassured you that everything will be fine. As you were standing outside of the door of their dorm, you really hope what Jungkook said was true. With a shaky hand, you rung the doorbell. As you expected your boyfriend opened the door.

“Hey,” he says flirtily.

“Hey, yourself. Are they here?”

“Yep, they can’t wait to meet you. Come on in.” He takes your hand, leading you towards the living room.

“Hyungs,” Jungkook begins excitedly, “this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

The six men got up from the couch and hurriedly walked over to meet you. They politely bowed and flashed friendly smiles, however it doesn’t ease your anxiety.

“H-hello, it’s not to meet you,” you stammered. You let go of Jungkook’s hand and started to fidget your fingers self-consciously.

It was clear as day that you were extremely nervous. Knowing how important you were to Jungkook, the guys went out their way to make you feel welcome. You spent the entire day having fun with everyone; eating snacks, playing party games and just overall playing around. It seemed like the guys really liked you, which caused you to fidget less as the time went by.

By evening, it was about your time to leave and you went to find Jungkook so he could drive you home. You asked Yoongi where Jungkook was and he mentioned seeing him toward his room. After getting directions, you head towards his room. Seeing that his door was opened you cautiously went inside, not realizing that Jungkook was having a conversation with Seokjin.

“Don’t take it too personally, Jungkook. I’m just not sure if I like her yet,” Jin says to Jungkook, neither noticing you in the room yet.

“But why hyung?,” Jungkook says, hearing the slight hurt in his voice.

Seokjin sighs before speaking again. “She’s just super awkward, you know? Painfully so.”

His blunt words hit you hard inside. It turns out you were wrong about everyone liking you. The room fell into a brief yet excruciating silence. It took you clearing your throat for them to finally notice you in the room.

Surprised, Jungkook turns to you. “Y/N?”

“It’s time for me to go. Can you take me home?”

“Uh, yeah, just let me get my keys?”

Before following Jungkook out the room, you gave Seokjin a meek wave goodbye then left.

On your way to the car, you tried to distract yourself by talking about how much fun you had but Jungkook could tell you were still hurt by Seokjin’s words. Before having the chance to open the passenger door, Jungkook spins you around and pulls you into his embrace.

“I don’t know how much you heard from Jin hyung,” he says into your ear, “But it’ll be fine, Y/N. Soon enough, he’ll see you how I see you: an amazing and beautiful girl.”

You didn’t know what to say at that moment, so you just quietly sobbed into his shoulder.

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i-am-a-bad-influence-writes · 3 years

Text

The Dutchess’ Garden - Part 1

Series Masterlist - Chris Evans Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Pairing: Chris Evans x OC Emma Meijers

Warnings: Strong language, age difference, smut but not really smut

Word count: 1922

‘Good evening gentlemen,‘ a female voice calls from behind the bar, ‘you must be here for Robert and Mark. They’re outside. I’ll be right there to take your order.‘ Chris can’t help but stare for a second. Who is this woman and why has he never seen her before? She looks beautiful. Golden waves brush her shoulders, heart shaped lips painted red, rosy cheeks, and bright blue eyes. While Tom is already standing on the doorstep to outside, Chris hesitates. ‘Chris, are you coming?’

‘Oh, yeah, of course,‘ Chris stutters and tries to pretend he wasn’t staring at the bartender just a second ago. The two venture outside to find a deck atop the green sea in front of them. It could seat a pretty big party if you squeezed, but by the way the seating spaces are spread on the deck you can tell that that’s not what they’re going for. It’s cozy, with string lights everywhere, candles on the tables, celebrities littered throughout the place looking completely at rest. Some are with others chatting away, others are reading, some are simply enjoying the music playing through the outside speakers. ‘Ah, you found it,‘ Robert calls over to the two men walking. They gain a few looks, a few greetings, and walk over to Robert and Mark where they sit down. ‘Welcome to The Dutchess’ Garden,‘ Mark says, raising his glass to the two. Chris looks confused at the shape glas. It stands on a leg like a wine glass, but has an hourglass kind of shape, with the upper part cut in half so that the top bit is wider than the bottom. On the table is a bottle in a wine cooler filled with ice water, but it doesn’t look like it’s wine. ‘So what is this place,‘ Tom asks as both of them take a seat. He doesn’t seem as confused about the glass. ‘It’s a kind of secret bar for celebrities who don’t always want cameras in their face,‘ Mark tells them, ‘Robert took me here the first time we filmed something from Marvel together.‘ ‘And how did you find it,‘ Tom asks Robert. ‘Robert helped my father find a place to start it,‘ a female voice says and the group sees the bartender from before stand at their table. ‘Gentlemen, meet Emma Meijers,‘ Robert introduces, ‘her dad and I go way back. He helped me out when I was stuck in the Netherlands once and we kept in touch. Anyway, she runs the place now.‘ Chris looks her up and down with starts in his eyes. Emma is not your typical skinny model. She has an hourglass figure with a little more sand that is perfectly accentuated by the copper wrap dress that she wears. Though the dress conveys a mature look, her kiwi socks and white sneakers don’t. They mix the playful with the mature to come out with a sort of teasing image. She has her ears pierced in multiple places and wears golden rings and dangling earrings in them. Around her neck are two different golden necklaces. One a simple chain, the other a chain with a coin hanging from it. She wears a brown hair tie around her wrist and has chipped, red nailpolish. Chris is mesmerized, but that doesn’t mean the others don’t stare. ‘Thank you for the introduction Robert,‘ Emma smiles, ‘I hope you have told your guests about the secrecy of The Dutchess.‘ ‘I have not,‘ Robert turns back to us, ‘The Dutchess is a secret bar like Mark said, but she also asks for her guests to keep the secret. Not all celebrities know about her and she tries to keep her clientele the right crowd by being a members only and invite only bar. So no telling others until The Dutchess decides you can be a member.‘ Emma nods with a smile. ‘Now that we have that out of the way,‘ she says, ‘Mark and Robert are enjoying some jonge jenever, but I can get you anything else. We have several different types of Dutch and Belgian beers, we have gin though I would suggest trying the jenever over gin, and we also have some different kinds of whiskey.‘ She looks at Chris with a wink. ‘Of course we also have ice if you need ot water it down.‘ A laugh erupts from the group. ‘Emma, I think they’ll like the jenever. Can you get us two more glasses and another bottle of water?‘ ‘Of course Robert, I’ll be right back.‘ ‘She’s a feisty one,‘ Chris huffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest. ‘Come on Chris, you can’t seriously tell me a pretty girl made you sulk because she called you a pussy for drinking whiskey on the rocks,‘ Robert laughs. Chris sighs, but Tom is already in the next topic. ‘So it’s The Dutchess is spelled with a T because they’re Dutch? That’s such a fun play on words,‘ he comments, ‘but how do they keep their staff quiet?‘ ‘From what she told me,‘ Robert explains, ‘they ask the staff to sign a contract that requires them to keep The Dutchess secret. Otherwise they get fired and are sued.‘ ‘So they’d never hire you,‘ Chris jokes, trying to take the attention away from him more. But it backfires as Emma reappears with the glasses and the water. ‘But I wouldn’t hire you either,‘ she says, ‘you’re too big and I doubt anyone other than Chivas would want a superhero that drinks whiskey on the rocks.‘ ‘Is this how it’s going to be tonight,‘ Chris asks, trying to sound jokingly. ‘I mean, I could start asking why you consider jellybeans a food or ask you if you can drive,‘ she jabs at him. ‘How do you know all this stuff?‘ ‘Dutchess secret,‘ she teases with a wink as she puts down the glasses. ‘Don’t sell yourself short Emma,‘ Mark smiles, ‘she’s a great hostess and because you can’t get in here without giving a name, she researches people before they come here so they get the best service.‘ ‘And she shames everyone who drinks whiskey on the rocks,‘ Robert adds, ‘she did the same thing when we brought Hiddleston here. He drinks Jameson on the rocks.‘ ‘You’re not supposed to drink whiskey on the rocks,‘ she says in her own defense, ‘it’s a pure product. You should drink it pure. Or if it’s just a temperature thing, you could ask for a cold glass, but-‘ ‘You’re rambling darling,‘ Robert says with a smile. She tucks some hair behind her ear with a small blush forming on her cheeks. ‘So sorry about that,‘ she says, ‘but to ramble on a little longer for our newcomers. The drink you have in font of you is jonge jenever. It’s the drink gin was based of off and it is far superior. I don’t just say this because I am Dutch and it is a Dutch drink. It’s genuinely better. You’re supposed to fill your glass to the brim and drink it cold and pure. Enjoy.‘ She walks off, walking past a few other tables to have a chat and a laugh. Chris watches her go around. ‘She knows a lot about all that,‘ Tom says as Robert pours all of them a glass of jenever. ‘She studied it,‘ Robert tells them, ‘she knows a lot. Wine is her area of expertise. She is not really a sommelier, but she was studying it before she had to take over here.‘ ‘Take over?‘ Tom looks a bit concerned at the word choice Robert had made. It would imply something bad happened. 'We shouldn’t gossip about Emma,’ Mark says, ‘she took over for her dad. That’s all.‘ Chris nods agreeing, but he wants to know more. Not like this though. He wants to hear her tell it. In fact, he wants her to tell him anything. Her voice is wonderful to listen to. Even when she makes fun of him.

‘I hate to be a buzzkill, but I’m doing the last round,‘ Emma says with a kind smile, ‘I don’t mind staying open a little longer, but I do have to move you guys inside if you want to stay.‘ The four men look at her like she spoke gibberish and only now realize that they’re the only ones left. ‘That’s alright Emma, I think Mark and I will be leaving,‘ Robert says and turns to Tom, ‘Tom, do you need a ride into town?‘ ‘Yes, that’d be great.‘ ‘Good, Emma, would you be a doll and tell Marcus we’re ready to leave?‘ ‘Of course,‘ she says and scurries back inside to warn the driver who had been sitting inside the whole evening. Emma had offered him a book of hers when he finished his, which she did more often when drivers had to stay for a long time. ‘Your driver has been here the whole time,‘ Tom asks in amazement. ‘Yes, Emma takes great care of him,‘ Robert tells him, ‘makes him virgin cocktails and coffee or a meal if they want.‘ ‘She really is a great hostess,‘ Mark adds as he gathers his stuff. Marcus walks outside to alert the men that he’s ready to get them home. ‘You’ll be fine, right Chris?‘ ‘Oh yeah, don’t worry about me.‘ The group says goodbye and Chris is left alone, outside, enjoying the view and the quietly played music. Emma walks outside with a beer bottle in hand. She sits down next to Chris to enjoy the view with him. ‘I’m sorry, did you want me out,‘ he asks Emma a bit shocked. ‘No, it’s fine,‘ she says, ‘I’m done inside, so I thought I’d join you for a drink. If you don’t mind, of course.‘ ‘I enjoy the company,‘ he says with a smile. She watches his face with a smile. There’s a slight drunk blush on his cheeks, but nothing too bad. She saw he had drank the least out of all of them, drinking more water to keep himself grounded. ‘Can I pour you another one or are you good?‘ ‘If you’re not going to shame me, I’d like a whiskey on the rocks.‘ She chuckles. ‘What kind?‘ ‘Surprise me.‘ ‘That’s not a kind of whiskey,‘ she teases, but she’s off before he can jab back at her. He watches her walk away. She is truely stunning. He wonders how a business like this keeps existing, but they probably ask more for drinks or something. ‘I played it safe,�� she says as she hands him a glass, ‘it’s Chivas.‘ He smiles and absentmindedly puts an arm over the back of the bench they’re sitting on, almost brushing her shoulder with his hand. ‘Wow, you’ve been liberal with the ice,‘ he jokes. ‘Whiskey on the rock,‘ she laughs, ‘if you want more, there’s an ice machine behind the bar.‘ ‘You’re just going to let me behind the bar,‘ he smiles a bit confused. ‘I’m off duty. Making you that drink was me being friendly. You gotta get your own stuff now,‘ she teases. He laughs and as the evening gets later, the two get more familiar with each other. But all nights must come to and end and so does this one. Emma lets Chris out the front door and throws him another sweet smile. He starts walking away, but she calls after him. He stops and turns around to find her running after him. She hands him a piece of paper. ‘Just so you know,‘ she smiles shyly, ‘you’re always welcome here. Would be a shame to refuse someone living this closeby.‘ She runs back inside and he watches her. When the door closes he checks the piece of paper he got. It’s a flyer with the opening times of The Dutchess’ Garden, as well as a form to sign up to be a member.

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x oc #chris evans #chris evans fluff #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #captain america #captain america fanfic

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 4 years

Text

Imagine:

Erik is the student and reader is the professor.

“When you are in my class, you will learn to pay attention and not disrupt me.”

Miss. Baxter.

Professor in Microeconomic Theory II for the Doctorate program in Engineering. People who previously had her as a teacher complained of how much of a hard ass she was but it was for good reason. That’s why Erik decided to get within the woman’s good graces and become her teachers assistant. All he cared about was getting his Doctorate degree at MIT and graduating. If he was being honest, the whole school thing was weighing heavy on him. Noticable dark circles under his eyes, facial hair more filled out, consuming more coffee than he would have liked, overworking his body in the gym to keep fit for his life after college, all of those things played a role in his shutting down.

Miss. Baxter was only nice to Erik in class, maybe it was because he had a way of sweet talking people. Erik was charismatic and Miss. Baxter enjoyed his company while grading papers and in class activities. She looked forward to seeing him, and the older woman couldn’t hide her attraction to him. She was still young, just five years his age. Currently, she was teaching a segment on Supply and Demand. A poin-dexter type who loved to challenge Erik every second felt the need to disrupt Miss. Baxter during her teaching hours. She hated that, no, despised it.

“You want me to have a talk with him, Miss. Baxter?”

Erik looked at the guy who reminded him of Mandark from Dexters Labortatory, squinting his eyes to show him that he wasn’t fucking around. That seemed to work, the Mandark look alike kept his eyes in his books now, good boy.

“No need, Mr. Stevens. I’m sure this is the last time, yes?”

Her Caribbean accent soothes him. Especially when she was putting someone in their place. The class lasted for about an hour and a half and tonight Erik was more tired than usual. He even had to stop from fucking his usual campus pussy to get some sleep. Then here is Miss. Baxter, his professor and crush, sounding and looking all types of sexy. She spoke her final words on the lesson and dismissed the class, everyone except for Erik leaving the lecture hall. Miss. Baxter erases the board, giving Erik a full view of her ass in those tight charcoal grey wide leg pants she wore.

“How was the lesson today, Erik?”

Erik grabbed his things, heading down the steps within the lecture hall to take his usual seat next to Miss. Baxter at her large dark oak wood desk.

“It was pretty good, you know I don’t have any complaints, you teach very well.”

Finally next to her, half empty coffee mug in hand, Erik could make out the smell of apricots and peaches on her skin. Damn, she always smelled fruity. Yesterday he caught a whiff of her pin curled hair. It smelled like strawberries and kiwis.

“Mango slices?” She offered, like always.

“Sure, you must’ve heard my stomach.”

They both share a comfortable laugh before Miss. Baxter handed him her folder of activities that needed to be graded. After that, she would have a pile of Research papers for him to take home and look over. 12 page research papers.

“I’m not going to nag you like a mother, but, Erik, are you sure this is okay for you? This isn’t overwhelming?”

Erik finished chewing on the juicy mango slice before answering, “Nah, I’ve dealt with worse stress than this.”

Miss. Baxter watched the way Erik would sit with a straight back, eyes sharp like a hawk and reflexes so quick it reminded her of the speed of light. He was so structured it made her organized life look less put together.

“Are you a military man?”

“Yes,” He turned his low eyes on her, “Navy first, now Military.”

“Wow,” she pulled some stray hairs behind her ear, “No wonder why you’re so...”

“Intimidating? Was that what you were going to say Miss. Baxter?”

She smiles, picking up her red ink pin to start on her pile of activities, “No, just very structured...and at ease in stressful situations like a Military man. My father is a veteran.”

Erik rolled his tongue over his teeth, nodding his head in acceptance of her response.

“You have a good eye for that shit- sorry,”

“You’re grown, no need to apologize.”

“You just, I don’t wanna cuss in front of you.”

She scrunched her face, “why not?”

“You might use that metal ruler to wack me over my head.”

She couldn’t fight the fit of giggles escaping her. The sound was so peaceful to Erik. None of the other classmates would ever have the pleasure of witnessing this. Such a beautiful and intelligent black woman.

“You’re so gorgeous, Miss. Baxter.”

She stops abruptly, the tiny hitch of her breath causing him to smirk.

“I...Thank you, Erik.”

“Are you married?”

“No.” Miss. Baxter has to double check question five to make sure she marked it correctly.

“Damn, that’s a shame...I would wife you up if I wasn’t so fucked up...”

She gave him a curious look, wondering what he meant by that exactly. She couldn’t see what was so fucked up about him. Maybe he suffered from a little PTSD from being in the Military that she didn’t know about but what else could be so fucked up about him? He seemed so...perfect.

“It’s never good to talk down on yourself.”

“It’s not a talk down, it’s just the truth.”

Erik unwrapped his hair from the head wrap he wore, shaking out his tapered dreads. They framed his eyes, shadowing them from her line of vision.

“I’m finished this pile, give me the rest of yours.”

She handed it over without hesitation.

“So...what’s next for you? After school? Do you plan on applying your Engineering skills in the Military? I mean, you could get into the mechanical aspects of it, or even the computer science bit of it too.”

Erik recapped the pin, adding the finished activity to the finished pile, “Yeah, just for a bit. Then I plan on traveling.”

Miss. Baxter nods before taking a sip of her cold water. What She really wanted to do was tell Erik how handsome he was but then she felt like that was going too far. There was a comfortable silence for a while until she reached out to grab another mango, grazing Erik’s fingers with hers. She could feel that in her skin, her teeth biting down hard on the mango to fight an airy sigh from escaping her lips.

“Shit,” Erik says while stroking back his dreads from his glasses, “I didn’t realize it was 10:00 pm.”

Her eyes looked up at the old grandfather clock on the wall. It was indeed 10:00 pm.

“You’re right, we should wrap this up.”

“Mm,” he hums in approval, packing things away in his carry on. Miss. Baxter took that distraction of his to admire him fully. She stared at the angles and contours of the side of Erik’s face, the pout of his lips so inviting and the curl of his lashes adorable against his masculine face.

“What’s your first name, Miss Baxter?”

She stole her eyes away from him, packing her things, “Mya.”

“Is it cool if I call you Mya from now on?”

She blushed, side eyeing Erik in a playful manner, “Only because your my favorite student, Erik.”

“Cool,” he reached out to squeeze her shoulder gently. It was friendly but it held a certain longing as well. Miss. Baxter grabbed the hand on her shoulder, taking it to squeeze it. She looked down at their hands, body turning from side to side in that swivel chair nervously. Miss. Baxter felt Erik release her hand, taking his pointer finger and thumb to gently grab her chin, making her look up at him.

“Relax, there is nothing wrong with what’s going on between me and you. Like you said, I’m grown...you’re grown.”

“I know but,” She blinked away from him, “I don’t want my attraction to you to interfere with your education, Erik.”

“Oh, I’ll get my education regardless. Only problem I have is how sexy that Island girl dialect sounds rolling off your tongue.”

Miss. Baxter bit down on her lip, closing her eyes to calm her fluttering belly.

“And then you like to wear those fitted bell bottoms...” Erik makes his voice sultry and low, “and you smell like the fruit you eat...”

He was probably wondering if she tasted like it too.

“Erik, I think...I think we should go, it’s late now and...I don’t want to keep you up any longer.”

Miss. Baxter stood, grabbing the handle to her rolling bag, other bag on her shoulder and water bottle in her right hand. Erik stood with her, grabbing his bag from the floor. He walked in front of her, holding the door opened so she could exit first. Their eyes marked similar paths, looking eachother from head to toe.

“Thank you.” She kept in front of him as they walked down the deserted hall of the Science building at MIT. She tried to lessen the switch in her hips but it was too late, Erik was already on it like clock work.

“You ain’t gotta do that,” his words confirmed it.

Finally within the parking lot, Erik walked her to her car, ensuring that she was cool before he made it to his. She placed her things within her trunk, walking back to her drivers side were Erik was leaning against the front of her car, arms folded.

“Same time, Friday night?” Miss. Baxter asks timidly while hanging on to her opened door, not exactly stepping inside.

“Of course, research papers and all, Mya.”

The sound of her name mixed with his West coast dialect made her toes curl in her four inch heels.

“I’m assuming now you’re going to use my name more loosely,” She couldn’t hide her teasing tone.

“You like it so much might as well, right?”

She twirled her key on her finger, “Yes, I like it a lot.”

Before she could crouch down to get into her BMW, Erik grabs her waist, turning her towards him. Her breath hitches, the sudden influx of air burning her lungs. Erik takes both of his hands, grabbing the sides of her face, pulling her into a searing kiss. His tongue rolled with hers, the warm and wet appendage tingling her very own. Sweet from mangos, and sharp in a good way. Miss. Baxter hadn’t had tongue down her throat in a long time. The hardening of her nipples brushed across his T-shirt, her shaking fingers grabbing and twisting the fabric. He was so needy and insatiable. Her back pressed hard against the car, his leg between her thighs keeping them open so he could feel the heat from her crotch against his thigh. She could feel him alright, knocking against her leg like a heavy pole.

“Miss. Mya,” he whispers against her lips, that sly smirk littered with dimples weakening her further, “You sure you don’t wanna see what it’s like to be with me outside of that classroom?”

She bit into her lip harshly, eye lids fluttering. He had his forehead pressed against hers, his hands holding hers at her sides to keep her still.

“Answer me...” He whispers shakily, her head falling back against the car. This gave him access to her neck now, his lips and that tongue of his tasting what he always wanted to taste.

“Answer my fucking question.” He spoke through gritted teeth in her ear, his tongue curling around the diamond stud she wore. His nose was in her hair, hands moving to grab at her hips, rolling his thumbs along her shirt, lifting it from being tucked inside of her pants. Now there was skin on skin contact.

“Yes, yes, I want to,” she spoke rather quickly.

“Forreal?” He was pressed hard against her now. No one could see them so why was she so damn nervous? Maybe it was the fact that a man had showed her interest again.

“Yes, Erik.” She was weakened by this man.

“Fuck. You don’t know what your getting yourself into with me, girl.”

She didn’t know, but maybe Erik could teach her a few things this time around.

#killmonger imagine #killmonger x reader #killmonger fanfiction #black panther killmonger #erik killmonger #nahimjustfeelingit-writes

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i-like-yoongi-a-latte · 3 years

Note

17, 18, 35, 36 :)

Once again, under the cut because I ramble! Includes rambling about Harry Styles and what home means to me. 💕 Fun fact! Harry and Teuvo are the same age and I haven’t known peace since I found out!

I don’t even know if you like these answers, it’s basically me gushing about H.

unusual(ish) asks

17. google the top song from the year you were born

Too Close by Next, according to Billboard

My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion according to some hit list of Finland

18. rant about your favorite musician

I’ll take this as an opportunity to ramble about Harry Styles, as I talked about Louis in the previous one. So, where to start... I’m still amazed that he’s so young and he’s achieved so much. Like, he’s four years older than me, and it felt like he was ‘old’ when I was a teen, but still he felt young?? Now when I think of him, he’s definitely young. I mean, he’s the same age as Teuvo Teräväinen - I still don’t know how to feel about it. He was a baby during the X-Factor and he was so nervous and shy and adorable. I get emotional when I remember that one gifset where he’s younger and his hands shake (and his voice is shaky) and then under that gif is a more recent one where his hands shake a bit, but he’s so confident on stage now. It’s been a wonderful journey to like, grow with him (and all the other boys too) and see him evolve into the great musician and actor he is now. He has lived his teenage years in the spotlight and he hasn’t really had the normal life, he was 16 when all this started. He’s the one who sang the most in One Direction, he was put on the spotlight and after the hiatus news, when he started his solo career, he was on the spotlight much more than Louis, for example. His album got more promo and attention - don’t get me wrong, he deserves it all, but it feels wrong that Louis got basically nothing even though he’s just as talented as Harry is.

He’s had the womanizer trait put on him since he was a teen. It was said that a teen likes older women and that he dates a lot of women. That makes me mad and my heart breaks every time I’m reminded about it. He had to say that he really isn’t a womanizer A LOT OF TIMES and yet media still covers him as the womanizer. Like, when asked what his favorite part of a woman is, this boy answers with “I don’t know, maybe a smile” or something like that. And he’s said the comment “that objectifies women” in interviews too, when asked something weird. Like, he was actively telling that he isn’t like that, but it felt like nobody really cared. He’s really humble too, like when asked in interview, if he had to list the top five things in being in a band/singing/being an artist, he said that money wouldn’t be on the list. I believe that he’s being sincere and I can see that he loves to perform and write songs etc. He’s so down-to-earth in my opinion, he seems so happy and grateful that he can do what he loves. My heart is about to burst.

His vocal range, the songs he writes - phew this man is talented. His voice is beautiful, he shows so much emotion in his songs - Falling for example, he sounds so raw in it. And his performances, he really knows how to be on stage, like he dances around and he just has the thing for performing, you can see it. He dances like he doesn’t care, he’s clearly having fun and encouraging the audience to have fun too. About the songs, my favorites are Kiwi, Sweet Creature, Golden and Sunflower, Vol. 6. They have nice and kind of quirky elements in them and I love them for that. I love the Fine Line album a lot, give it a listen - I promise it’s not like the usual boyband stuff. He’s also an actor, which is amazing, and he’s a model for Gucci - what can’t he do?

He’s the sweetest and he’s so funny too. I’ll admit, he wasn’t my favorite during the One Direction hype, because I was stupid and didn’t want to like the one who was put in front of me and he was everyone’s favorite. He cares for his fans, he’s so kind to everyone - I really haven’t heard if he’s been angry at someone or anything like that. He’s very respectful and from what I’ve heard, he’s quite shy. His sense of humor is kind of underrated, not everyone gets his weird jokes. I mean, him saying “I can’t write songs” in a teary voice and writing a banger after another - we love this kind of humor in this household! It’s basically me yelling “I can’t write good essays” when in reality I’m quite good (wow me praising myself what is this). He also talks kind of slowly and his voice is very calming. People might think that he’s boring because he talks so slowly, and miss a part of his personality when they don’t listen to him. I could listen to him talk for hours because he seems like a person who would chat about everything with you. Personally I think he’s really funny and I relate to him, and I really look up to him in a way. I want to be more confident, and he gives me an example of it. He’s been on movie set and he ate alone because he was feeling shy, which is a huge contrast to what he is on stage. If he can be shy and reserved but at the same time very confident and open, why can’t I? This might sound silly but I am serious, I really want to learn that. Louis makes me want to try my best even though it might get hard sometimes, and Harry makes me want to be myself and not to be ashamed of it.

He’s actively telling people to treat people with kindness, which is great in my opinion. If people were more kind to each other, maybe the negativity in the world would decrease, even a bit. And I think that when he says tpwk, he wants to tell that he should be treated with kindness too, because he’s been in the media’s eye for many years and he’s been treated badly too. I want to be kind to people even without him telling me, but I feel like him using his voice to even try to tell this to people is great and important. Be kind!! To yourself and others!

Reading this over, I sound so mushy and soft - which I am. I mean, I love him.

35. what does home mean to you?

Home to me is a warm and safe place where I can be myself and be vulnerable, let my guard down. Home could be a person too, a person who makes me feel safe, warm, and with who I can be myself. Is it cheesy to say that home could be a person whose arms would give me the warmth that feels like fireplace and their cuddles would make me feel safe...? Home means love - whether it’s with someone or alone. (that’s so deep wooooooooooooooow)

Home as a word reminds me of One Direction’s song called Home and Harry’s song Sweet Creature. And all the other times their songs have home mentioned because my life is full of One Direction. (and I have no other life but they make me happy so) This is not even a part of the question but I started...

I mean look at the chorus of Home: “And it's alright / Calling out for somebody to hold tonight / When you're lost, I'll find a way / I'll be your light / You'll never feel like you're alone / I'll make this feel like home”. This makes me feel reassured somehow, like there’s this other person who will make the place feel like home, which to me is a safe place, so I interpret this as that. I’m rambling about lyrics and not answering to the question directly, sorry.

“Sweet creature, sweet creature / Wherever I go, you bring me home” - this is so heart-warming because the other makes the other feel like home and I could gush about this for ages. Like the ‘you’ in the song brings the other home, wherever they are, and that’s sweet because the person brings home to that other person without literally moving a place, because the home is that person and/or the feeling of home comes with the person. “Two hearts in one home” sounds so sweet and it makes me feel so soft inside. If home is a place, two hearts are there together, or if home is a feeling, it is with the other person.

36. what do you think you’d be arrested for?

Ha! What a question! Hmm... For being a smartass? For causing a scene if I had the guts to tell some people to shut up when they yell stupid things at hockey games? I really don’t know.

#wow this is almost embarrassing #i got excited #am i really answering to those other questions #thank you! 💕#friends #answered #ask game #harreh #there might be some errors because i'm a bit tired and my brain is not working

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iwillbeinmynest · 5 years

Text

Hold On Loosely - Biker!Steve x Reader(f) Chapter 19

Authors Notes: Oh My Goodness!!! This is it. The last chapter! I am so grateful for the love this series has gotten. Thank you all so much!!!!

Word Count: 1k

Special Thanks: Here’s a final thank you to @itsanerdlife for fueling my Biker obsession and being my Beta for this whole thing. To my girl over at @girl-next-door-writes who also beta’ed for me. And an extra shout out to @bettercallsabs for this beautiful graphic. She is amazing and y’all need to check her out!!

Notes/Warnings: (My notes and warnings are for the story as a whole. Some notes and Warnings will not apply to every chapter.) smoking (I do not support smoking. keep your lungs clean y’all.) drinking, (be of age, don’t be stupid) minor violence, backstabbing, attempted murder, anxiety, stress, mentions of death, car accident, trauma, …I think that’s it. let me know if I’ve missed something.

Master List

One year later.

"Steve, were going to be late!" Y/N called from the front door. "You know how they get when we're not there the second we say we'll be."

"I'm coming!" He shouted and he hurried down the hall. "Babe, it only takes me a few- wow." He paused when he finally got a good look at her. "Y/N, you look amazing." His jaw was close to going slack.

She blushed. "Stop it. I'm not even dressed up."

He walked closer and took her in his arms. "Doesn't matter, you're always beautiful." Steve leaned in a kissed her gently. "I had an amazing time with you. We need to make vacations a regular thing. Somehow, beaches make you even more beautiful. I am one lucky son of a-"

"We're late." She chuckled and gave him a quick peck before pulling him out the door.

Her hair bounced as she jogged to the bike. Her shorts, band t-shirt and black jacket fit her perfectly and it had Steve smirking at how lucky he really was.

The trip he'd planned for their one year anniversary had been a surprise for Y/N and he had been so nervous that she wouldn't like it but everything went perfectly and they'd had a perfect trip.

She threw his helmet at him and he caught it with a huff. "What's your hurry, sweetheart?" He asked as he swung his leg over.

Y/N hopped on behind him and swatted his back. "Just eager to see everyone that's all."

"We were only gone two weeks."

"Do you even know how hard it's been not talking to Nat and Wanda? They messaged me everyday and I'm not exaggerating."

"Hey," he turned to her after kick starting the bike. "It was a no phone trip and they knew that."

"Like that was gonna deter them." She muttered as she pulled her helmet on. "I love you!" She shouted over the engine.

"I love you too." Steve patted her leg that was straddled behind him and she held on tight. Just as tight as the first time he gave her a ride, which made Steve laugh before he tapped her hand. She immediately loosened her grip but rubbed her thumb on the V.P. patch of his kutte.

The ride to the bar was perfect. The weather was not too hot and not too cold which was hard to come by in a southern Alabama summer. Steve pulled into the gravel to see a few of the new prospects give him a nod. One of them opened the door and shouted something inside. The blinds of one of the windows moved and Steve saw two familiar sets of eyes.

He pulled off his helmet and shook out his hair, which was growing out as well as his beard. "You better hurry up. Nat and Wanda saw us in the window."

Sure enough, Natasha and Wanda both came running out from the bar. Bucky, Sam, Clint, Frank and a few others followed.

Y/N barely had time to get off the bike before her friends practically tackled her.

"We missed you!" Wanda smiled.

Nat crushed them both in a hug. "You're not allowed to be gone that long ever again."

Y/N laughed. "Well, I'm going to have to when I go on my honeymoon."

Nat and Wanda froze, then pulled away from her.

Y/N held up her left hand and beamed at them. The ring on her finger glimmered in the sun that shone right at her in the evening sunset.

Nat and Wanda screamed and hugged Y/N again.

"Oh my gosh! That's amazing!" Wanda was so excited she was almost shouting. "How'd he ask?"

Y/N looked over at Steve who was staring at her with a smile on his face.

"Well," Y/N started. "It started out as a ride." She rolled her eyes. "To the airport. Apparently your husband was in on it and met us there with our suitcases."

Nat turned on Bucky. "You knew?!"

He shrugged. "Sorry, doll."

Y/N continued. "He flew us to Fort Myers Beach and got us a fancy hotel suite and everything. On the third night, the anniversary of the night we met, he took me to this really nice restaurant and then we walked on the beach and he proposed during the sunset."

"Oh my gosh, stop!" Wanda gawked and looked at Steve.

"Right out of a romance novel." Nat shook her head with a smile.

Frank laughed. "I never would have taken you for a sap, V.P."

"There's something else, too." Y/N bit her lip.

"Oh, no." Nat's expression shifted as she looked at Y/n’s stomach.

“Oh gosh, no, Nat. Look.” Y/N slid out of her jacket to reveal a brand new tattoo on the inside if her forearm. It was a red motorcycle with a banner wrapped around it. Across the banner read the same words that Steve had on his collarbone. 'I can do this all day.'

Wanda and Nat grabbed her arm.

"Its beautiful!" Nat beamed.

"Oh, it's perfect!" Wanda agreed. "Just like your charm!"

"Inspired by the real deal." Y/N winked at her fiance.

"You got her inked?" Clint asked surprised.

"It was her idea." Steve never took his eyes off of her.

Bucky hugged Steve and patted him on the back a few times. "Congratulations, punk. You did good."

"Thanks, man." Steve smiled proudly.

Sam clapped him on the shoulder and gave it a shake and a squeeze. "Finally convinced one to settle for you, huh?" He laughed.

Steve scoffed and shoved him away but laughed with him. "She definitely settled but I don't know how I did it."

Y/N heard him as she and the girls walked over.

"I did not settle for you. I won the jackpot." She grabbed him by his kutte and pulled him into a kiss.

Everyone around them whooped and hollered, making the couple laugh against each other.

"Next round is on me!" Bucky shouted and the whole bar erupted in cheers. "Here's to the woman who has finally taken Steve off the market!"

"To the future Mrs. Rogers!" Sam shouted.

"Mrs. Rogers!" The bar chanted with drinks held high.

***********

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girls-scenarios · 4 years

Note

Could u do list 1 prompt 7 with Haseul??????

Loona’s Haseul / Holiday Prompts

7. Persons A and B must convince their child that yes, Santa is real.

Admin Kiwi

A/N: So I’m going to try and write as many of these that have to do with Christmas as possible. The more generic “holiday” prompts will be done before New Years and will most likely be New Years/Winter themed. Thank you as always for your patience!

“We might have a problem.” It was early in the morning and Haseul had just walked in from dropping Yeojin off at school. Her arms were crossed as she spoke, her eyebrows furrowed together in a pensive frown. “Our little girl has apparently started to worry about Santa.”

“Oh,” you said, slowly putting down the garland you’d been wrestling with since you brought out the Christmas decorations the day before. You were covered in pieces of green plastic that you brushed off as you stood up. “What makes you think that?”

“On the way to school today, she asked me how Santa managed to get inside houses and apartments that don’t have chimneys. She’s asked that before, but today when I told her that Santa has his own magic ways, she frowned and said that she didn’t believe in magic.”

“Huh. That’s new.” Your frown matched hers as you tried to think, putting your hands on your hips. “What age were you when you stopped believing in Santa? I can’t quite remember for me.”

“I don’t remember an exact age,” Haseul said, shaking her head, “but I know I wasn’t six. Six is way too young to stop believing.”

“I agree. But what can we do?” You sighed and sat back down, going back to messing with the knot in the garland. “I wasn’t prepared for this at all. I thought we’d at least have another year or two.”

“Right?” She stood silent, thinking for a moment. “You know, we could consult those parent blogs online. I’m sure they’ll have some kind of advice on what to do when your child starts asking questions.” Smiling, she walked over and took the garland from your hands. “Why don’t you stop messing with this thing and we can talk about Santa over breakfast? My treat.”

Laughing, you stood up once again and put your decorations to the side. “Well, if you put it that way, how can I say no?”

The parenting blogs proved to be a good idea. There were plenty of cool tricks to do online, but the one thing that really caught both of your attention was the video from Santa. The preview videos on the website looked genuine, and all you’d need to do was send Yeojin’s Santa letter. It seemed like it would work.

“If we can get her to do the letter,” Haseul said, sighed and taking another sip of her coffee, and you laughed. She had a point. The little girl was going through a bit of a rebellious stage. But you were sure there would be some way to convince her to write a letter to Santa.

Eventually, after gentle coaxing and a lot of suspicious and dramatic eyebrow raising from Yeojin, the two of you sat down at the kitchen table with her letter in hand, the little girl fast asleep in her bed upstairs.

“So we just send this information to the website?” She looked over the list and rubbed her face. “Oh god, she’s asking for a puppy. Is that something we can do right now?”

You laughed and fondly leaned into your wife, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I guess we’ll see. The gifts never get any easier, do they?”

“They never get any cheaper either,” she commented, but laughed along with you, folding the letter up once again. “I’m happy if she’s happy, though.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“Yeojin! Look what we just got!” It was after dinner a few days later when the video came through, and you had to calm yourself down before you walked out to the living room to show her. “Santa sent me a video!” Beside the little girl, Haseul acted surprised, her mouth falling open as she let out a little gasp and nudged Yeojin’s shoulder.

“Santa?” Yeojin looked excited, then frowned suspiciously as you sat down beside her. “Really? Santa really sent me a video?”

“He did! Apparently he got our letters!” You settled down onto the couch, Yeojin between the two of you, and pressed play on the video.

Immediately, Santa appeared on the screen, all dressed in his red costume with a real beard and everything. Just as you’d seen on the website, the video looked legit.

“Is this thing recording? Oh, I’m too old to figure out these newfangled things.” Santa laughed as he settled back into his chair and pulled out a big book, as well as the exact letter Yeojin had written. At the sight of it, your daughter let out a gasp.

“Wait, that’s mine!”

“Yep!”

“Hello there Yeojin, and Merry Christmas!” Santa waved at the camera as he let out a chuckle. “You’ve been a very good girl this year, as always. But some of my elves told me that you’ve been doubting me! Is this true?” He leaned forward in his chair, and Yeojin’s mouth dropped open.

“How did he know?”

“He’s Santa. He knows everything.”

“Wow....”

“I wanted to send you this video to show you that I am very real, just like your parents said! We got your letter up here at the North Pole,” he said, holding up the letter and envelope. “You’ve got a lot of wishes this year, but as long as you believe in me, I think I can take care of them! A puppy! Now that’s a special gift right there. But as long as you stay good and keep believing, I think I can get it to you!” He winked and grinned at the camera, and you found yourself smiling. This guy was good. “Once again, Merry Christmas, Yeojin! I’ll see you soon!”

“Wow!” Yeojin exclaimed as the video ended and she jumped to her feet, bouncing up and down on the couch. “I can’t believe it! Santa really is real! And he’s going to get me a puppy!”

“Only if you believe,” you said, holding your hand out to make sure she didn’t fall off the couch.

“I’ll believe! I’ll believe really, really hard! I want a little dog so I can name him Frog!”

“You’re going to name your dog, Frog?” Haseul smiled, helping the little girl jump safely from the couch to the floor.

“Yep! I’ve decided! Oh, I drew frogs in class, I’ll be right back.” Distracted, Yeojin ran towards the stairs, and you shared a smile with your wife, tucking your phone back into your pocket.

“That worked great,” you whispered, and she laughed, reaching over to squeeze your hand.

“No kidding. Although I guess we’re stuck getting her a puppy now.”

“Yeah.” You smiled, listening as Yeojin tumbled through her room upstairs. You wanted to cherish these moments while you still could. She wouldn’t be little forever. “But it’s totally worth it.”

“You’re right. One day, we’ll look back at this and miss it.”

“So let’s not waste a moment.”

#femifics #loona #haseul #loona drabbles #haseul drabbles #girl group drabbles #holiday prompts #prompt writing #girl groups #kpop girl groups

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wistfulcynic · 5 years

Text

Osaka-shi Serenade 1 / 4

This is the most personal thing I’ve ever written. I just need to say that up front. It is personal because it is basically the story of how my husband and I met and fell in love, tweaked for Captain Swan. It... works surprisingly well, actually. I had no idea I was living in a romcom until @thisonesatellite accused me of having a “meet-cute.” But I have to admit, she has a point. It was kinda cute. It’s MUCH CUTER with Killian and Emma, though, because you know what those two are like.

I also have to accuse thank @captainsjedi and @teamhook among others for insisting that this was a good idea, and genuinely thank @distant-rose and @thisonesatellite for beta-ing like champs and the treasures they are. Also tagging @thejollyroger-writer @winterbaby89 @shireness-says @searchingwardrobes @darkcolinodonorgasm and @kmomof4 because they were foolish enough to ask for it (and also @katie-dub because she is the best). If anyone else is feeling foolish and would like a tag, please let me know.

Summary: When Emma Swan’s high school sweetheart betrays her she runs away, as far as she can get… all the way to Japan. She tells herself it’s not running, it’s an adventure, but when she meets a handsome Englishman as broken as she is, will she be brave enough to embark on a new adventure with him?

Rating: M (for later chapters)

On AO3

Part One:

She wasn’t running away.

Well okay she was technically, but she was also going on an adventure and that sounded a hell of a lot better.

Plus the fact that the interviews had been held in Boston which would normally be too far to expect her rickety Bug to travel and too expensive to get the train on her waitress income, but that they were held on a day she just happened to have plans to be in Boston anyway, catching a ride with Ruby on her annual shopping trip and spa day, well that had to be fate.

And who was she to argue with fate?

The same fate that had seen her pass the last class she needed for her BA just in time to allow her to check that final box on the application form, to qualify for the visa that she needed for the job that would take her as far away from Neal Cassidy as she could reasonably get without leaving the planet.

There weren’t English language schools on Mars or she would have fucking considered it.

But Japan was far enough really, and as she stood in the Osaka airport fighting off jet lag and trying to make sense of the signs that really may as well have been in Martian for all the help they offered her in finding where she needed to go to catch the damn bus, she wasn’t entirely certain she hadn’t landed on another planet after all.

It was all so different.

Just as she was about to give up in despair, curl up on her suitcase and take a nap in the middle of the goddamn arrivals hall she heard someone speaking her name.

“Emma Swan?”

Emma turned to see a young woman with a clipboard and an expression of polite inquiry.

“That’s me.”

The woman smiled coolly, making a decisive movement of her pen on the clipboard. “I’m Belle, I’m here to take you to the bus.”

“Oh thank God.”

Belle looked up and her smile warmed. “Yeah it can be disconcerting at first,” she said. “Don’t worry you’ll soon get used to things. We’re just waiting for one more person then we’ll head for the bus stop. Here’s your ticket. Don’t lose it.”

Emma clutched the small ticket tightly, noticing even in her highly sleep deprived state that beneath the Martian letters there was a small illustration of a bus.

Helpful, she thought.

She swayed on her feet and allowed the airport to blur around her as Belle’s voice said “Walsh Ozman?” and she vaguely noted the presence of a gangly man about her age. He gave her a once-over and a leer that she would have found inappropriate even when she hadn’t spent the past twenty four hours marinating in plane grunge, and Emma was just too tired and too overwhelmed for that kind of bullshit. She turned her back on him, picked up her suitcase, hoisted her carry-on onto her shoulder, and followed Belle out of the airport into the muggy Japanese night.

The air smelled different here, thought Emma.

The bus ride into the city was excruciatingly long, the scenery insanely confusing. All the buildings looked alike, tall and grey and adorned with balconies on every floor, their railings strewn with plants and strung with laundry, and Emma began to panic. She was a small town girl after all, despite the occasional weekend in Boston, and she’d never been in a city like this before.

What if I get lost?

She breathed deeply to calm herself and tried to focus on Belle’s words. You’ll soon get used to things. Emma hoped like hell she was right.

Walsh leaned over the back of her seat bringing his face way too close, breathing rank breath over her cheek. “So. Where you from?” he asked, in a voice she supposed he thought was sexy.

“Maine,” she said shortly, not looking at him.

“Cool,” he said. “Lobsters. I’m from Fresno. That’s in California.”

“I know.”

“Northern California,” he elaborated as though she hadn’t spoken, winking at her.

Emma ignored him, pulling her scarf up over her nose to filter out the smell of his breath and pretending to go to sleep. She imagined she didn’t smell too great either after flying across the freaking Pacific Ocean (not to mention the whole of the USA) but really you’d think the asshole could at least brush his teeth before hitting on her.

When they finally arrived at the bus terminal Emma thought she had managed to sleep a little bit. They were met by a dark-haired man who introduced himself as August and smirked as he spoke Japanese to the bus driver, and by a cheerful, petite woman with an accent Emma had never heard before who told them to call her Tink.

“Don’t ask,” she said with a laugh. “At least not yet. I’ll tell you the story someday over a beer.”

“You two are gonna be living on different subway lines,” said August, and Emma breathed a small sigh of relief. “Emma, you’re on the Sennichimae line, that’s the pink line, so you go that way.” He pointed to their left. “Tink will go with you and help you get settled in, give you your keys and everything. Walsh, you’re on the red line, Midosuji, so you come with me.”

Emma was immensely glad to find herself with Tink, who was bubbly and cheerful though sometimes Emma wasn’t entirely sure what she was saying.

“Where are you from?” she asked as they sat in the subway car, wincing a bit to herself as she repeated Walsh’s question. Without the smarmy intonation, she hoped.

“Oh, I’m a Kiwi.”

“A what?” Emma frowned at the image of Tink as a fuzzy brown fruit. Maybe exhaustion was making her hallucinate, she thought. That could happen, right?

Tink laughed. “I’m from New Zealand.”

“Oh, wow. Is it really cliché if I mention Lord of the Rings right now?”

“Yep. But don’t worry, I’m used to it.”

They got off the subway at Imazato station.

“Remember that name,” said Tink. “If you ever need to get a taxi home, don’t try to give them your address. Just tell them the name of the subway station, it’s a lot easier.” She pointed to a building across the street from the station entrance. “That one’s yours.”

Emma noted with relief that it wasn’t a skyscraper, though still far taller than any building in Storybrooke. It was also painted off white, with the balconies in red. It was pretty.

“Does every place have a balcony?” she asked Tink.

“Oh, yeah. It’s the only way to get some outside space in the city. People use them for growing pot plants, drying laundry, all sorts of things.” She led Emma into the building and pressed the button to summon the elevator. “You’re on the fifth floor, so you can walk up if you want, but…”

“Yeah,” Emma agreed. “Maybe some other time.”

“You’ve got two flatmates but they’re at work, they both work the night shift,” said Tink, opening the door. “The MM Centre is open 24 hours.”

“Yeah, they told me I’m working the 3-11 pm shift, but I was a waitress for years so I’m used to those kind of hours.”

“Mm hmm,” said Tink, but she was distracted, looking around the room. “They should have… ah yes here, they’ve left you a note. And a towel, that’s thoughtful. I suppose you didn’t bring a towel.”

“Um, no,” said Emma.

“Most of us don’t. It’s one of those things you just don’t think you’ll need. But you’ve got bedding supplied for you, a futon and some sheets.”

The apartment’s front door opened into a short hallway with the bathroom door leading off to the right and the main living space in front. The main room was sparsely furnished with a plain, worn sofa and a television sitting on a small table. A sink, refrigerator, and kitchen cabinets lined one wall and a dining table with three chairs stood along the one perpendicular to it. Emma noted to her relief that there was also a microwave. Red curtains hung at the sides of the large sliding glass door that separated the room from the balcony, and there were three other doors, also sliding ones, made of thin slats of wood that criss-crossed each other to form small window-like squares which held what looked like thick, cream-coloured paper.

Tink slid open one of the these doors and gestured to the room behind it. “This one’s yours.”

Emma’s eyes widened as she took in the room. It was small and simple, the walls a basic off-white, but it had big windows on two of its walls, a spacious looking closet behind more of the thin wooden doors, and the floor was covered with densely woven straw mats. The air inside smelled fresh and sort of grassy, like a late summer day in a hay field. It made Emma feel peaceful.

“You really lucked out with this place,” said Tink. “Really close to the station, and you’ve got tatami in all of the bedrooms. A lot of the apartments NOVA puts us in have lino floors and they are nowhere near as nice. Gross in the summer. Sticky.”

Emma nodded, wanting to ask Tink how long she’d been in Japan but when she opened her mouth all that came out was a jaw-cracking yawn.

Tink laughed. “I’ll let you settle in now and get some sleep. Here’s your starter pack.” She handed Emma a blue folder with her name on the front. “There’s instructions for how to put the futon together and also a map of the city and a subway map and directions to the Centre. You’ve got nothing scheduled for tomorrow, which is actually now today, but on Monday you need to be at the Centre at nine to start your orientation. All the info’s in the pack. Here are your keys. Any questions?”

Emma had loads, but she shook her head. They could wait.

“Cool. I’ll leave you be then. Sleep well.”

“Thanks.”

After Tink left Emma stared at the futon instructions for a solid five minutes without her brain absorbing a single molecule of the information they contained, until finally she threw them along with the rest of the orientation pack on the floor and simply unfolded the mattress, wrapped the sheet around herself and fell asleep.

——

It turned out that Belle was right. Emma did, eventually, get used to things in Japan. It took far less time than she’d feared, due at least in part to that first day when she’d woken up completely disoriented to find both her new roommates asleep and her stomach practically caving in on itself.

Reminding herself that this was an adventure and she’d sworn to be brave, she had grabbed her map and headed out into the streets of Osaka in search of food.

And gotten hopelessly lost.

The streets were a cacophony of noise and colour, honking cars and bicycle horns, bustling people, flashing neon signs. Emma tried to stay on what looked like the main road —the one with the most lanes, anyway— but as she walked along it her attention was caught by a brief flash of green in her peripheral vision, soft and natural against the dusty greys and blinding neons of the city, and on impulse she went to investigate.

Around a sharp corner and down a narrow alleyway she discovered a tiny structure she would later learn was a Shinto shrine; simple and ancient and made of wood, with a pointed roof that curved up at the ends and an ornate metal decoration at its peak, about the size of a telephone booth. Lush green grass edged with dense, thorny bushes surrounded it, bisected in one direction by a winding brook made lively by mossy stones and in the other a cobbled path leading to the shrine from the street, which crossed the brook via a tiny wooden bridge painted orangey-red.

Emma approached it with awe, wondering again if this could be a hallucination, this haven of peace in the urban chaos. The quiet was blissful after the noise of the street, and almost surreal in its contrast. She took a deep breath, inhaling the sharp, piny scent of the bushes and the fine mist of the brook and felt herself relax.

As lovely as the shrine was, though, she couldn’t eat it, as her stomach reminded her with a thunderous growl that almost echoed in the little garden. She went back over the bridge and down the path but when she emerged into the street she couldn’t remember which direction she’d come from. All the streets looked… well, not the same exactly but there were no landmarks her mind could latch onto, just a jumble of houses and signs written entirely in Japanese, and Emma realised that she had stumbled into a neighbourhood where most tourists didn’t venture.

She chose a street at random and headed down it, looking for anything that might be a restaurant or grocery store, but though she passed quite a few places that had signs hanging in front of them and wooden doors that looked like they might lead to eating establishments, she didn’t have the confidence to just push through one, in case it turned out not to be a restaurant at all. She had literally no idea of what she was looking for.

Eventually, the small street she was on intersected with a wider one and on the corner was the first thing she’d seen that was unmistakably a place to eat, if the large sign with pictures of food on it was any indication. It had a bright red awning with wisps of delicious smelling steam emanating from beneath it, out of a small kitchen area just visible behind wooden bar lined with stools, separated from it by a curtain made of clear plastic strips. Emma approached hesitantly, trying not to stare at the enormous bowls of soup and noodles that a Japanese couple were slurping enthusiastically at one end of the bar.

A man emerged through the plastic curtain and said something to her in rapid Japanese.

“Um,” stuttered Emma. “I’m sorry, I don’t…” She tried to think of a way to explain what she wanted using sign language but her frazzled brain would not cooperate.

One of the people from the end of the bar looked up, a young woman with a glossy, chin-length bob. She smiled at Emma and said something to the man from the kitchen, who nodded in response and shouted “Hai!” then disappeared, returning moments later with a steaming bowl of soup, a pair of wooden chopsticks, and a white ceramic dish containing a small towel rolled into a cylinder shape. These he placed in front of Emma, bowed to her, and left again.

“Please,” said the woman, pointing to the towel then rubbing her hands together. “Please.”

Emma picked up the towel and unfolded it. It was warm and damp and had a clean, refreshing scent. She wiped her hands with it, and then, following the woman’s mimed instructions, her face as well.

At the woman’s urging she sat and picked up the chopsticks, pulling them apart with a sharp crack and then staring at them helplessly.

The woman laughed, but it was a friendly laugh, and she held up her own chopsticks to show Emma how they should be held. After a few attempts she managed to hold them securely enough to transfer some noodles into her mouth and slurp them up, and when the broth slopped everywhere and dripped down her chin she laughed too.

Nothing had ever tasted so delicious.

The woman pointed at herself, directly at her nose. “Naoki,” she said, widening her eyes and nodding. “Naoki.”

“Uh.” Emma thought she understood, and pointed to her own nose. “Emma.”

“Em-ma,” Naoki repeated. She indicated the man sitting next to her. “Masahiro,” she said.

“Whoa, okay,” laughed Emma. “Um, Masahiro?”

“So, desu-ne!” cried Naoki, and Emma took that to mean approval.

She ate the rest of her noodles and broth messily and with relish, and when she finished she pulled a 1000 yen note from her pocket and offered it to Naoki, who firmly waved it away.

“Thank you,” said Emma, meaning it from the bottom of her heart. “Er, arrigato.”

She returned the 1000 yen to her pocket and took out the map of Osaka, frowning as she struggled to unfold it. Masahiro tugged on a corner and gestured for her to give it to him.

Emma handed over the map.

He spread it out on the bar and removed a pen from the pocket of his jacket, then appeared to think hard.

“Home,” he said finally.

“My home?” said Emma. She remembered Tink’s advice about giving the name of the subway station. “Um, Imazato? Imazato station?”

“Imazato eki,” said Masahiro. “Hai.”

He drew a large X on the map and pointed to it. “Imazato,” he said. “Imazato eki.”

“Okay,” said Emma.

Masahiro traced his pen through the confusing web of streets on the map than drew a circle.

“Koko,” he said. “Here.” He slid the map back to her and pointed down the street. “Imazato,” he said.

“Imazato that way,” said Emma. “Got it. Thank you. Thank you both.”

Naoki and Masahiro both stood, and bowed to her. She attempted a small bow herself, feeling foolish, then headed in the direction Masahiro had indicated, following the path he’d drawn on her map until she spotted the pink sign for Imazato station.

“Thank fuck,” breathed Emma in profound relief, and thank fuck she’d remembered the name of the station.

That experience taught her not to be so afraid of getting lost, or trying new things even when she had no idea what she was doing. Or asking for help. All of which she needed to do repeatedly as she settled in to her new country.

Gradually she began to adjust, to spot landmarks and develop routines, and she had begun to feel fairly sure of herself about a week and a half in when she got on the subway after her shift along with a whole crowd of other English teachers she’d yet to speak to.

The car was packed so she slid into the corner and pulled out a book, holding it in one hand while the other gripped the railing for balance. It was a good book —the latest Terry Pratchett— but before she could really get into it she was distracted by raucous laughter from a group just to her right.

“I don’t know what you’re on about, mate,” said a voice, a deep, rich one with a British accent that could curl your toes. “This is a very expensive tie. It cost a hundred yen!”

Emma looked up, trying to get a glimpse of the speaker. She was pretty sure he’d been joking —he must have been joking, even she knew 100 yen was only about a dollar, and she’d only just got here— but his tone had been very dry and also she wanted to see if his face matched his voice.

“Look,” the voice continued. “It’s 100% silk. It says so right here on the label.”

“Oh and labels never lie I suppose,” retorted another voice.

“This one better not. I paid a hundred yen for this tie, I bloody well expect silk for that price!”

Laugher rose again and as Emma watched the small group shifted and the speaker’s face came into view. She caught her breath.

“What are you alleging, exactly, Graham? That someone took a cheap polyester tie and put a ‘100% silk’ label on it?” The speaker’s eyes glinted with mischief and she was now certain he was joking.

His eyes were also really blue.

“Whoever would do such a nefarious thing?” he continued, adopting a look of angelic innocence so patently false that Emma snorted with laughter. The group turned to look at her.

“You’ll have to excuse Killian,” said the lone female among them, a young woman about Emma’s age with long, brown braids and friendly eyes. “He’s never had to own a tie before.”

“What, never?” asked Emma, as though she hadn’t just bought suits for the very first time, to meet the dress code of this job.

“Never needed one,” said Killian with a shrug. “Except for funerals, and I threw that one away.” His blue eyes clouded briefly with a flash of pain that Emma felt echo in her own soul. She knew that pain, firsthand. But it was gone almost before she could register it, replaced by the teasing glint. “So I went shopping for one the day I arrived and found these very reasonably priced one hundred percent silk ties at the hundred yen store, but Graham seems to think I’m not entering into the spirit of the dress code.”

“Look, I don’t like wearing suits any more than you do,” said Graham, in another accent Emma couldn’t quite place. She’d heard more versions of English spoken in the past ten days than she’d ever imagined existed. “But I’m prepared to put in a bit of effort.”

Emma had to admit that his effort was impressive. Graham’s suit fit him perfectly, and his shirt and tie were beautifully matched. Killian on the other hand wore a suit that even to Emma’s untrained eye was obviously made of cheaper fabric, the fit a bit awkward and the tie carelessly knotted.

“Why?” challenged Killian in a voice that aimed for casual but only reached defensive, and a tense silence fell.

“Look, mate I didn’t mean—” Graham began hesitantly, but Killian cut him off.

“It’s fine,” he said, making a short chopping motion with his hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

Emma had no time to wonder what all that could be about because the woman jumped in, trying to lighten the mood.

“Hey!” she said brightly, pointing at the subway ticket that Emma was using as a bookmark. “Is that a single day ticket?”

“Um. Yeah?”

“Why don’t you get a monthly pass? It’d save a lot of money.”

“I didn’t know I could.”

“Oh yeah! NOVA will pay for it, you just have to buy it and they’ll reimburse you. And little secret, if you put Umeda as your transfer station you can use it on all the subway lines and city trains, so you won’t have to pay for transport at all.”

“That sounds great, but I don’t really know how—”

“Oh, no worries! I have to renew mine, I can go with you! I’m Anna, by the way. I’m from Canada!” She held out her hand.

“Emma. Er, from the US.”

“Great to meet you!” Anna shook her hand energetically. “And these, as you’ve probably deduced, are Graham and Killian.”

“Yeah. Hi.” Emma smiled at the men, who nodded.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea! We’re going to Nara this weekend with a Japanese friend of mine. Why don’t you come too! We can meet early and get your monthly pass before we leave!”

Emma was beginning to wonder if Anna was able to speak without exclamation points. It was a bit intense. But she couldn’t help liking the bubbly Canadian and Graham and Killian were both smiling at her, and she had promised herself to be brave.

“Okay,” she said. “Sounds like fun.”

——

It was fun. In addition to Anna, Graham, and Killian there was Anna’s friend Kayoko and two other teachers, one a round young man who informed Emma she would have to call him Smee.

“Because my name is William, but he’s named Will,” he explained. “So. To avoid confusion, you know.”

He turned out to be a short, very talkative man with an accent Killian insisted was also English, though it didn’t sound much like his own.

“Will’s from London,” said Killian apologetically as they left Nara train station and headed out into streets that were noticeably less crowded than those in Osaka. “I’m afraid he doesn’t know any better.”

“And where are you from?”

“Somerset.” At her blank look, he elaborated. “It’s in the West Country— southwest England. Pirate country.”

“Pirate country?”

“Aye, lass,” he said in an exaggerated pirate voice. “Pirate country, arrrr!”

She laughed. “You’re making that up.”

“Would I?”

“Yes.” She’d only known him a few days but she was absolutely certain he would.

“Okay, maybe I would, but I promise you this is a real thing. The pirate accent is from Bristol, and Bristol is in Somerset, or at least it was. Don’t mock my heritage, love.”

“I wasn’t—” she began indignantly, then caught the twinkle in his eyes. “Hmmph,” she huffed, trying not to smile. “I’m not your love.”

“Pity,” said Killian, holding her gaze for a breathless moment and then Graham called his name and he turned away.

They made their way slowly towards Tōdai-ji temple, along the wide paved pathway that cut through the grassy and tree-lined field called Nara Park, where dozens of small deer frolicked in the grass.

“Oh, look!” cried Emma.

“Yes,” said Kayoko. “Famous deer. You want to feed them?”

“Can I?”

“Many people do.” Kayoko led them to a wooden stall along the path where they each bought a bag of round wafer-like discs which they cautiously offered to the deer who came running up to greet them.

“They like the food,” Kayoko informed them. “But they bite.”

“Mind your fingers,” murmured Killian in Emma’s ear.

Emma held out a disc to one deer, who ate it politely.

“They don’t seem that— oh!” Emma jumped as another deer barged past the first and butted her hand with its nose. “Okay.” She took out another wafer and offered it to the second deer, and then a third, and before she knew it she was surrounded by a crowd of furry brown faces and out of food.

“I don’t have any more,” she informed them, holding up her empty hands, but the deer butted their noses against her pockets and her bag, and she was beginning to wonder if they might actually attack her when a large, warm hand enveloped hers.

“Come on, lass,” said Killian, amusement in his voice. “Let’s make a run for it.” He pulled her through the crowd of deer and and together they dashed back to the pathway, laughing breathlessly.

“Thanks,” said Emma. “I was starting to fear for my life.”

“Aye, me too.”

He let go of her hand but the electric tingle of his touch remained, buzzing across the skin of her palm. She looked up to find him watching her with a slightly dazed expression. Then he blinked, and smiled his flirtatious smile.

“Shall we go see this temple, then, love?”

“Still not your love,” said Emma, still breathless. “But yeah, let’s go.”

As they walked the group mixed and mingled and Emma learned that all of them had been on the same two planes and had arrived together in Japan a month ago in the same “wave.”

“And we’ve sort of hung out together ever since,” said Anna. “Who was in your wave?”

“I’m not sure I had one.”

“Didn’t anyone else start along with you?”

“There was only one other person when I got here, this guy Walsh.”

“Oh. I think I’ve met him. Ew.”

“Ew is the word.”

“But you didn’t have a group or anything? No group meeting the first night you arrived?”

“No. They took me straight to my apartment the first night and I fell asleep.”

“Huh, no wonder you didn’t know about the monthly pass. That’s kinda weird. I don’t know anyone else without a group.”

Typical, thought Emma. I’m alone even when I’m not supposed to be.

Anna caught the expression on her face and looped their arms together, giving her a bright smile. “It’s probably just because you started so late in the year,” she said. “But never mind, you’ve got us now. We’ll take you under our wing, little chickadee.” She laughed and Emma joined in, unable to resist. Anna was weird, but it was a nice weird.

Kayoko turned out to be an amazing tour guide. Her English was a bit stilted but she had immense knowledge of Japanese history and culture. Tōdai-ji, she explained, was an old Buddhist temple, still in use, and inside it was the world’s largest bronze statue of Buddha. The group listened attentively as she spoke and took pictures of everything she pointed out and Emma actually spotted Killian round the side of the Buddha with a tiny notebook and pen, scribbling rapidly.

“Are you taking notes?” she asked, amused.

“No.” He quickly stuffed the notebook into his jacket pocket. His off-duty clothes were a vast improvement on his work clothes, she thought. Jeans that hugged his ass and a t-shirt that skimmed his torso and a leather jacket that moulded to his shoulders. Chin unshaved, hair messy. He looked damned good.

He also looked embarrassed.

“You were, weren’t you?” she pressed.

“I wasn’t—”

“Let me see that notebook, then.”

“No.”

“Because you were using it to take notes.”

“Look, if I admit I was taking notes will you let it drop?” The tips of his ears were pink and he was rubbing nervously at a spot behind the right one, his expression anxious. Emma felt a stab of guilt. She’d thought they were just joking around.

“Of course.” She took a step back. “I’m sorry.”

Killian shrugged, burying his hands in his jeans pockets. “It’s all right, lass. I just— the notebook is something I don’t really want to talk about just yet is all.”

He looked vulnerable without his cocky, flirty grin, vulnerable and a bit lost. She felt the weirdest urge to touch him, to take his hand again, to see if the electricity that still tingled on her palm would reignite.

“Okay,” she told him. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

His worried expression melted into a bright smile with no teasing twinkle, just warmth softening the blue of his eyes as he held her gaze.

“Emma! Killian!” Anna’s voice rang out through the hush in the temple, followed quickly by the woman herself. “Kayoko says there’s a good restaurant nearby, do you want to go get some lunch?”

“Sure.” Emma forced herself to turn and nod at Anna though her heart was thundering.

“Sounds lovely, lass,” said Killian, his eyes still on Emma.

Anna’s lively smile slipped as her eyes darted between them but she quickly fixed it back in place. “Well come on!” she cried and after some slightly embarrassed shuffling Emma and Killian followed her.

—

Killian sat next to Emma in the restaurant, casually, elbowing her as she sipped her miso soup.

“So what to you reckon to this Japanese food, then, love?” he asked.

“I like it,” said Emma. “I don’t know what it is I’m eating half the time, but it’s all been amazing.”

Killian laughed. “I know what you mean,” he said. “Have you tried takoyaki yet?”

“No, what’s that?”

“Oh, you’ve got to try takoyaki!” cried Anna from across the table. “They sell them in the park in front of Osaka Castle, we should go!”

“Okay,” laughed Emma. “But what are they?”

“Octopus balls,” said Smee, and the whole table sniggered.

“Okay what am I missing?” demanded Emma.

“Takoyaki are octopus tentacles,” explained Killian. “Cooked in batter in this special mould that forms them into ball shapes. It’s an Osaka specialty.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. They love their octopus balls here, right Kayoko?”

“Takoyaki is very popular food.” Kayoko confirmed. “Very traditional.”

“Everyone loves a good octopus ball, mate!” said Will, winking at her.

“Well, all right,” said Emma, reminding herself that she was here to try new things. “It can’t hurt to try.”

—

The takoyaki was disgusting. Emma spit it into her napkin and the look on her face had Killian doubled over in laughter.

“Ugh,” she said, “No. The taste isn’t bad but you can feel the tentacles on your tongue, with those little suckers…” she trailed off with a shiver of horror. “Not for me.”

Killian took the oblong wooden bowl containing her five remaining takoyaki and poked one with his toothpick. “I love them,” he said, popping it in his mouth. “Mmmmm.” He chewed with exaggerated relish. “Tentacles. Delicious.”

Emma made dramatic gagging noises and Killian nearly spit out his own mouthful when he started laughing again, so loudly that the other people visiting the castle turned to stare.

Osaka Castle rose up behind them where they stood on the dusty gravel path that led to its main entrance, bright white in the slanting light of the early December afternoon, the gilt decoration along its swooping green roofs glinting in the sun. Emma couldn’t believe it was December already; the week since their trip to Nara had flown by, though not a day of it had passed without some small flirtation between her and Killian. A wink, a teasing remark, a shared sip of vending-machine coffee or a bite of a mochi sweet. Something was brewing between them, and though it was still far too early to say what exactly, whatever it was had butterflies dancing in Emma’s belly whenever she saw him.

Anna, who had been sharing her bowl of takoyaki with Smee, watched them with her habitual smile a bit strained around the edges.

“Don’t you like it, Emma?” she asked, and the edge in her tone had Emma looking at her in surprise.

“Nope,” she confirmed. “Definitely not my thing.”

“More for me,” said Killian cheerfully as he polished off another. “Next we’ll try you on sushi, see how that goes. What do you say, love?” His grin was warm, his eyes glinting with a flirtatious challenge that Emma could not resist.

“Sure why not,” she replied, looking at him through her lashes with a smile that was decidedly coy. “I’ll try anything once.”

Killian’s eyes went wide and Anna’s smile grew a bit more strained.

“Anything?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow coolly though there was a faint flush across his cheekbones.

“Anything.”

Killian cleared his throat. “Good to know,” he said.

Anna stabbed the last takoyaki in her bowl and chomped it forcefully.

When they had finished eating the four of them took a walk around the castle before heading back to the subway station.

Emma fell into step with Anna as they walked. “Hey,” she said, bumping the other woman’s shoulder in a way she hoped was friendly. Aside from Ruby she didn’t have a lot of female friends, and this was slightly new territory for her. “Is everything okay?”

“Sure! Fine!” Anna replied brightly. “Why do you ask?”

“You just seemed… a bit off, I guess.”

“Well, I’m not,” said Anna, but the edge in her voice was back. “Just… don’t push anything with Killian okay?”

“What?” Emma gaped at her. “What are you talking about?”

Anna shook her head. “Nothing. It’s— it’s nothing. Never mind.”

She moved ahead to walk with Smee, leaving Emma frowning in bafflement behind her.

—

Takoyaki may have been a disaster for Emma but sushi was a triumph. Three days after their trip to the castle she, Killian, and Smee went for lunch at a tiny restaurant tucked away in the famous covered shopping street of Shinsaibashi-suji, beneath a flashing neon sign in the shape of a sinuous dragon.

The sushi was made fresh in a kitchen on the left side of the restaurant, and served on little plates that moved around the room on a conveyor belt, going in and out of the kitchen area through a curtain made of plastic strips exactly like the one Emma had seen at the ramen place her first day in Japan.

550 yen (700 for the men) bought as much sushi as the luncher could eat plus miso soup and a drink. NOVA teachers had an unofficial running competition over how many plates they could eat in one sitting, though not one of them had yet managed to match the old Japanese men who could frequently be found sitting in the corner eating sushi for hours on end, their stacks of plates growing so high they had to be cleared away lest they topple over.

Emma tried the salmon and the tuna, and the whitefish and the rolled omelet and even the eel.

She did not try the octopus.

“Can’t tempt you, love?” teased Killian, waving a crinkle-edged piece of sushi in front of her nose.

“I can see the suckers from here,” said Emma. “They are no less horrifying for being sliced thinly.”

Killian chuckled and ate the sushi with a hum of enjoyment. Emma smiled as she watched him. He was wearing another of his awkward suits and cheap ties since they had to head to work as soon as lunch was over. He was freshly shaven, too, which made her a bit sad, but the dress code at their job was a rigid one.

They worked at the NOVA Education Group’s Multi-Media Centre, which was an enormous concern spread over three floors of a thirty storey building. Each day they arrived on the fourteenth floor where they clocked in using paper punch cards and swapped out their street shoes for slippers.

Slippers in the office was a Japanese tradition Emma could get behind. As someone who had worked as a waitress for years, anything that kept her feet comfy while she was working was in her mind a very good thing.

After clocking in and changing their shoes they sat down at the picnic-style tables where they spent their mid-shift breaks, and scanned the huge screens that hung from the ceiling for their names. The screens told them what their seat assignment was for the day, floor and cubicle.

“I’m on sixteen,” said Emma on the day they tried the sushi, about three weeks after her arrival in Japan. She had managed ten plates and felt like she might explode at any second. Killian and Smee, who had eaten fifteen and nineteen respectively, seemed no worse for it. She scowled slightly as they came up behind her. “What about you guys?”

“Fifteen,” said Anna.

“Me too,” said Smee, and Graham and Will were on fifteen as well.

“I’m on sixteen,” said Killian. “Walk up with you, love?”

Emma’s scowl smoothed out. “Sure.”

They took the stairs, preferring to avoid the elevator whenever possible. It was fast enough all things considered, but there were thirty floors in the building and they only had to go up two of them. Arriving on the sixteenth floor they discovered that their assigned cubicles —rectangular wooden tables separated into two squares by wooden dividers and equipped with a desktop computer and a bulky grey connection device that sat atop the monitor— were across the aisle from each other, meaning they could lean their chairs back and talk before their classes started.

“What’ve you got?” Killian asked.

“Hmmm.” Emma scrolled through her students’ class records, looking for one that neither of them had completed. “I think today I’ll talk about animals.”

“And I shall be practicing expressing anger,” said Killian.

“Ooh, I like that one. The roleplay can be hilarious.”

“Well I’ve only got one student assigned. So it looks like we’ll be roleplaying together, Kouki and I.”

The classes they taught consisted of between one and three students who used their own connection devices, provided as part of their NOVA package, attached to their own home computer or television to connect to the system which then directed them to their assigned class. It was a bit like a closed internet system —intranet, Killian insisted it would be called— and it allowed their students to take classes at any time of day or night and from anywhere that had a screen and a phone line they could use to connect. The week before Emma had taught a man who worked as a forest ranger and lived in a remote cabin on top of a mountain.

The teacher’s job was to select a class to teach —preferably one that all three had not done before, though this wasn’t always possible. Students bought packages of hundreds of classes, and if they weren’t able to advance to the next level after completing all the classes at their current one, they would do those classes over. Emma had taught students who’d done the same class three, four, even five times.

Five minutes before the class began the teachers opened the classroom and waited for the students to connect. When they did, their faces appeared on the screen in one of four boxes that it was divided into. Three boxes for the students, one for the teacher. The beginning of the class was announced by a bell that rang for ten seconds through the MM Centre and also over the system. When the last peal had finished chiming, the teachers turned on their cameras and greeted their students.

If the students did not connect before the class began, they were blocked from it and their devices would not work until their next class. If no students appeared, the teacher could close the class and have a free period.

Emma opened her class and read through her students’ past reports until the five minutes were nearly up. When only a minute remained, she looked at her screen. “No one’s here yet,” she said.

“How many are you expecting?”

“Two.”

Well, here’s hoping,” said Killian, and they put their headphones on as the bell began to chime.

When silence fell and Emma’s screen remained empty of students, she gave a sigh of relief and closed the class. She enjoyed teaching, far more than she’d thought she would, but a free period was always nice.

Picking up her book she leaned back in her chair and began to read. A moment later Killian’s chair tilted back as well and she smiled when she saw him doing the same.

“No show?” he mouthed at her. No talking was allowed during class time, except to students. She nodded. “Same,” he mouthed, then indicated her book. “What are you reading?”

Emma held up her Terry Pratchett, still the same one she’d been reading on the day they met. Normally she was a much faster reader but she’d been so busy exploring Osaka that she hadn’t had the time.

A broad grin creased Killian’s face and he held up his own book… also by Terry Pratchett. Emma grinned in return, and when he gestured for them to swap books she agreed readily.

Killian read the blurb on the back of her book then opened it, frowning slightly when he saw what was written on the inside cover. He looked up at her.

“What?” she mouthed.

He took out his notebook, the one he’d had in Nara, and scribbled something on a piece of paper. Ripping it from the notebook he handed it to her.

Is your last name Swan? it said.

Emma was confused for a minute then realised she’d introduced herself to her new friends simply as Emma. It was weird to think she’d been hanging out with Killian practically every day of the past two weeks and he didn’t even know her name.

She didn’t know his either.

It is, she wrote back. What’s yours?

Killian took the note and smiled, scribbling briefly before returning it.

Swan suits you. Mine is Jones. Do you think that suits me?

Killian Jones, she thought. It did suit him.

Nice to meet you, Killian Jones, she wrote. Can I have my book back?

His eyebrow rose as he read. Of course, Swan, he wrote back. Provided you’ll allow me to borrow it once you’re done.

Sure. And can I borrow yours?

Most definitely. Terry Pratchett should be shared. Which characters do you like best?

I like Death, wrote Emma. And Susan.

I’m partial to the wizards of the Unseen University myself. And of course the Night Watch, he replied

Carrot ❤️❤️ wrote Emma.

Nobby ❤️❤️ wrote Killian.

Emma laughed, earning her a glare from the supervisor.

They passed notes back and forth for the rest of the class time, and when the break between classes arrived Killian came over and leaned on his arms on the wall of her cubicle, continuing their discussion for so long that he had to almost dive back into his own to get his class prepared in time.

Despite their daily flirting Emma and Killian had never actually spent that much time just with each other before, but unlike what often happens when a group dynamic abruptly becomes a pair one, there wasn’t any awkwardness in their conversation. Instead it felt comfortable, natural, but with that ever-present frisson of electricity that had Emma’s skin buzzing and the butterflies in her belly doing somersaults. Killian flirted a lot less than she’d come to expect from him but charmed her far more, letting more of himself —his intelligence and enthusiasm, the softness under the innuendo— show through, and by the time they went downstairs to meet their friends for dinner Emma felt that their casual friendship had turned an invisible corner. She liked Killian, more than she’d liked anyone in a long time, but beyond that she could feel a potential between them, a possibility for something big and serious that was thrilling but also terrified her. Could she handle it, so soon after the disaster of Neal? Did she even want to?

The look in Killian’s eyes as he offered her half his red bean paste bun at dinner, the look in them when she accepted, the way he smiled when her own eyes widened in delight, made her think that maybe —maybe— she did.

Notes: I was in Japan in 2006-7, so that is when this fic is set. I haven’t been back since and I’m sure a lot has changed. I hope anyone who has visited in the past 13 years will forgive me any small inconsistencies in my memory or for places I describe that no longer exist. In short, please don't @me, I apologise in advance.

Also, all the OUAT characters here are standing in for people I actually knew in Japan, meaning in some cases I’ve had to tweak them a bit. It’s quite important for Anna’s character to be from Canada, for example. Again, please forgive me.

Thanks for reading 💕💕

#cs ff #cs ff au #cs fic #non magic au #captain swan #english teachers #japan #friends to lovers #pretty darn fluffy #but with a touch of angst to come #also there will be smut #but not in this chapter #also there is a fuckton of Japanese tourism stuff #so many details #if you like Japan this is your jam #profdanglaisstuff #osaka-shi serenade

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years

Text

Survey #239

i just want to sincerely apologize if my surveys take a negative nosedive again. i know this one’s kinda grim and i don’t want to make that a routine, but things are just rough right now and i’m not gonna lie on a survey, y’know.

Do you know anyone who works at McDonald’s? Not that I'm aware of. Do you know anyone who plays heaps of sports? Probably through school. Have you ever been suspended from school? No. Where do your cousins live? Aaaaaaall over the U.S. Have you met any of your second cousins? Possibly at some point? Do you like the All-American Rejects? I like "Move Along" and "It Ends Tonight" is good, but that's all off the top of my head. Oh wait, of course there's "Gives You Hell." When was the last time you wore a skirt? WOW I have ZERO clue. Probably not since elementary years. Have you ever finished a whole video game? Plenty. If so, which one(s)? There are way too many. Do you know anyone with a pet snake? Me, Sara, probably others. Which one of your friends has great music taste? Sara. Was the last person you hung out with single? That would be my young niece and nephew... so yeah. Have you ever attended a private school? I'm a private college now. Have you ever been in an abusive relationship? No, thank Christ. Have you ever cooked for anyone other than yourself? I made breakfast for Sara once. If your phone has a hole for phone charms, is it on the left or right side? I don't have one. Would you rather live in the city, the suburbs, or the rural area? Kinda like... suburban mixed with rural. I don't wanna be totally isolated, particularly away from necessary stores and such, but I also do NOT wanna be swarmed by people. Maybe like a loose neighborhood in the woods outside a small town? Do you know someone who is really ambidextrous? Sara. Did you use a pencil today? No. Are you adopted? Nope. Have you ever had your car break down on you? Never when I've driven, not that that's been much. With Mom, yes. Dad, idr. Jason's prom night, yeah; his truck broke down otw home at a stop light. Oof. Who was the last person that cried in your presence? My mom. It's the worst. When was the last time you ate at your favorite restaurant? Oh wow, probably not since my last birthday. What was the last thing someone gave you? A close family friend/my former teacher lent me a $20 just in case I needed anything while my mom was up in NY. Can you write your name in a foreign language? My first name (at least) is the same in German; even though "y" doesn't exist in the language, I guess it does for foreign names?? Idk about my last name. Who is the person you often go to for venting? Sara. Do you keep an actual journal or diary? No, not anymore. I did briefly when I had that WILD and totally random Jason obsession episode, but once I came off that godawful medicine and I went back to normal, I deleted it. Have you ever been prescribed Vicodin? That sounds very familiar... Maybe? Perhaps that's what was prescribed after my surgery? Have you ever cheated on someone without them finding out about it? Well considering I've never cheated and never would, I can't answer this. Was the last person you kissed male or female? Female. Who were you with the last time you went swimming? Colleen, at the beach. Does your dining table currently have place mats on it? No; we don't even eat at it. What was the last thing you cooked in an oven? I myself have literally never used an oven. I'm scared to. Oh wait, yeah I have... on some occasions where Mom needed me to put something in there or take something out, but idr what. But boy and I can tell you without memory that I was jumpy as hell about it. Is it hard for you to be “just friends” with the opposite sex? No. It's difficult for me to like-like people, especially men when you consider I'm generally afraid of them, on top of I'm just paranoid and don't trust easily. Do you prefer wheat or white bread? Wheat. Do you have an electric toothbrush? No, but coincidentally, I actually have that on my Christmas wishlist. Have you ever had an “exotic” or “abnormal” pet? Do you consider a Chinese water dragon "exotic?" Then I have a ball python morph. Have you ever eaten lobster? No, and considering crab is nauseating, I doubt lobster would be too different. What is your grade point average (if you’re still in school)? I don't know right now and don't know where to find it. Have you ever played croquet? Oh yeah. My sisters and I LOVED that shit as kids. Who was the last person you called? Dad. Have you ever watched Ghostbusters? No, believe it or not. When was the last time you drew a picture? Yikes... been a while. Not since I started a concept drawing of encompassing a panic attack in a meerkat form, as I tend to do. I haven't touched it in months. It's right on the second shelf of the table beside me, so... my only remaining excuse as to not finish it is that the paper is horribly wrinkled now. Are you happy? Not exactly. Should you be doing something now? I could be doing the practice exam work my math professor gave us all considering it's extra credit, but. Yeah. I'm absolutely awful at math and barely passing but I don't exactly need another stressor right now. Is there a smoke detector on every floor of your house? We only have one floor. What was the last kind of soup you ate? I tried vegetable soup anyway when I got my tongue pierced because I literally could not eat solids for over a week, but I'm a picky asshole who didn't like it so wasted the can. I had to survive almost exclusively on meal replacement shakes and popsicles. Warning from the wise: you want your tongue pierced? You better fucking want it bad because healing is a P R O C E S S. Or at least mine was, having to get it re-done and all... Have you ever had to do a class in summer school? No. Have you ever went a year without getting your hair cut? I don't think a year... but maybe? Do you think you could go a week without sugar? Considering sugar is in like... EVERYTHING, probably no? Would you be willing to go one day each week without meat? I don't really pay attention, but I probably already do. I'd like to eat as little meat as possible. Hell, I wish I could go full-on vegan. Do you feel comfortable telling people how much you weigh? NO. Do you have any talents that your friends don’t know about? No. Are you any good at sewing? Never tried, not interested. Has anyone ever interviewed you about one of your hobbies/talents? No. Would you ever consider experimenting with drugs? Marijuana for medical purposes if I didn't have to smoke it. I'm not smoking anything, I don't care what it is. What’s been tugging on your heart lately? I guess life in general. Mortality, death. Teddy died in my arms, I saw my grandmother physically ravaged by cancer, and just life hasn't been the kindest lately. I've been thinking about how time just flies, how every moment should be cherished even though it's so fucking hard, and just yeah. I don't wanna go down this rabbit hole. Are you comfortable with who you are? Have you accepted who you are? I don't know dude I shouldn't be taking a survey during like an existential crisis lol. What is the last thing you did that made you feel guilty? Decided to get some really unhealthy fries with my dinner. Would you have sex with the last person you texted? It's not a matter of "would," I want to. I may have already, I don't really know what separates foreplay from lesbian sex. Do you consider weed, marijuana, pot, etc. a drug? This isn't even an argument anymore, it's fact. It's a mind-altering substance. "Drug" does not always equate to bad, either. Are you planning on kissing anyone tomorrow evening? It'd be nice. Do you require a lot of private time? Oh yeah, but way less than I used to. I get depressed if I'm alone for too long now. Have you ever done something humiliating while drunk? N/A What is your favorite classic Disney movie? The Lion King. Do you like looking at old photographs? Yeah, usually. Do you enjoy puzzles? Yeah. Do you prefer painting or drawing? Drawing by a long shot. I'm taking a painting course this upcoming semester though, so hopefully that'll up my skill and thus enjoyment of it. Do you ever wear high heels? No, I don't have a reason to. Do you use belts? No, considering I never wear anything with belt loops. When was the last time you played Uno? Oh my fucking god, it's been forever, thankfully. When I lived with Colleen, as did her younger sister, we played Uno a lot, and then, AND THEN, came the night Chelsea dyed my hair red. Mind you, the ONLY TIME dyeing my hair had been truly successful and long-lasting. The process took hours, and we played Uno round after Uno round... and now I literally hate it. What do you like better, kiwis or pineapple? Oh man, I love both, but I gotta say kiwi. Are you trying to grow out your hair? No, I actually need to cute it again. What is your favorite perfume/body spray/cologne? Don't have one, really. Have you ever wanted to try karate? Not seriously. How often do you drink water? Ah yikes... I really fell out of my regular habit of drinking multiple bottles daily. Do you ever wear headbands? No. How many video games do you own? A lot. There's like a huge CD case in a living room drawer full of them. I've been considering making an EBay or something to sell a shitload of them as I'm sure a lot are actually pretty valuable now, but I think a lot about how I want to pass them down to my current and possibly future nieces and nephews when they get to a certain age to figure video games out or even have a console that can play PS1-PS3. Have you ever been to a casino? If so, which one(s)? No. What’s your favorite suburb in the city you live in? Why would you... name that on the Internet...? Besides that even, I pay no attention to suburbs' names I happen to pass. Have you ever visited a sex shop? No. I don't know if I could ever muster up the courage to even go in one. I'm the type that would just order online. What’s your favorite place to get pizza? I'm a basic Domino's bitch. How many times have you been to the beach? Multiple, but not a LOT. I have little reason to ever go, and it's never my idea, that's for sure. Has there ever been a fire inside your house? Tell me the story. Childhood home. Trying the Jiffy Pop popcorn that you make over the stove. Next thing y'know the thing is seriously on fire and we had to use the fire extinguisher. Fuck you, Jiffy Pop, the harbinger of the next fucking idiots moving in setting the entire house on fire thanks to the stove too. Have you ever had a scary encounter with a wild animal? No, besides like bees 'n the like being near me. Have you ever had a spray tan? No. Do you own any sports bras? Where’d you get them from? No, but I'd like at least one. Wouldn't know what to use it for, it's not like I go jogging or anything, but. I think it'd be good to have at least one. Have you ever had sex in a kitchen? No. What’s the most expensive restaurant you’ve ever eaten at? I have zero clu- no wait I'm gonna guess the Italian restaurant we went to on Sara's birthday, but that's just a guess judging by how it was fancy as fuck. Who crosses your mind the most? Sara. Have you ever been on a scavenger hunt? Probably as a kid. Ever been to an auction? No. would you ever get acupuncture? omg no Ever got stitches? At least twice. What is a must have on your french fries? At least some salt. Entirely saltless fries are boring. How do you like your meat cooked…medium rare? well done? Nothing less than medium well. If meat tastes even a little bit beneath lukewarm I can't take that shit. Are there two colors that you just simply despise? Bright yellow and puke-green. What do you usually do with recurring dreams? ... Nothing? What CAN you do? Have you ever been told you were hot by a complete stranger? I don't think someone has used the term "hot," but I know I've been called pretty, at least. Do you want to be single or with someone? I want to be with Sara. It kinda feels like we still are, like no feelings have changed, we're just not "official" anymore and not "bound" to one another. Have you ever had a sleepover with the opposite sex? I actually have twice (or thrice?) platonically with my younger neighbor FOREVER ago. We were still kids. Then there was a big (birthday?) party at my place where Juan stayed the night, and then I believe there was an occasion Girt totally knocked out on the couch so... I guess it turned into a "sleepover?" lmao Who are you closest to in your family? My mom. Who were the last 3 people to text you? Sara, Mom, and my sister. Have you ever dated someone in jail? No, and I wouldn't unless it was for something incredibly stupid or I'm aware was a false charge. What’s a movie you cannot BARE to ever watch again? Nothing's coming off the top of my head. Who got you hooked on the addiction you're addicted to (If you have one)? ... I just connected it all in my head. Jason got me into the Amnesia game. I got into custom stories for it. I was playing one one day. I got stuck. I YouTubed it for help. Guess. Who. I. Fuckin'. Found. This is a revelation; I have discovered the main purpose of my and Jason's relationship. Perhaps things do happen for a reason lmao. Are you a little bit cautious around horses? Do they scare you a bit? Not really, but I wouldn't say I'm in no way cautious. They definitely don't scare me, though. I just respect that they're very powerful animals and I'm not experienced with handling them. Have you ever burnt your tongue like REALLY bad? If so, what on? Yes, on rice that was literally right off the fucking stove lmao. LOOK I didn't know it had JUST come off and I was hungry as fuck but boy did I have REGRETS considering the burn lasted for well over a week, maybe two. Do you think having a sleepover with a guy is theoretically acceptable? Um, yes...????? Do you like to have cake on your birthday? Which kind of cake in mind? Yeah, and red velvet or chocolate frosted, depending on what I'm feeling.

#survey #quiz #questions #bored #random

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janchriseurope · 5 years

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Hampton Court Flower Show

Although I really hate gardening... I really love flower shows. We have been to them in Christchurch with Lynnette and Rick, and the Auckland one with Bren. When Mary said she had the opportunity to get tickets for the second day of the Hampton Court show, both Chris and I were delighted. We planned our trip around this date

The day dawned bright and clear with a slight wind. We had a leisurely start, waiting for the bus run to be completed, then headed to the flat at Wimbledon, where we would leave the car for the day. From there, we took the train to the Hampton Court station. We decided to take the boat to the gate to save 15 min walk. Chris can now say he’s been on the Thames!

People were streaming into the site by boat and foot. Pink was the colour of the day. With tents and everything official in what we in Nz would call breast cancer pink!!

Mary and Chris A went their was and Chris W and I headed through the throngs to look at the displays.

The show was set out over 25ha with waterway in between. There was a natural flow to the area which made it relatively easy to get around and see the stalls and displays. However, if I never see one of those plastic cube trundles again it will be far too soon!! You took your ankles and live at risk every time you moved!!

The first tent we went into was the roses. Wow - packed with amazing roses and shoulder to shoulder with hot people!! I was given a David Austin catalogue. Not that I’ll be buying roses any time soon but one can dream...

We got out of the rose tent quickly and headed over the bridge, nice and orderly- to the left those going over one side, right side those returning.

We had an ice cream because Chris W had the start of a migraine and it helped cool his head. He was able to see after about 20 minutes!! Interesting photos taken in this state!!

Around the stalls, everything from gloves for little people to equestrian gear. Know you’re in England now .. I do like the cut of the jackets.

We came across a cheese stall ... yum. Wensleydale cheese with lemon and honey, mature cheddar and cheddar with mustard and beer. Guess what we carted around for the rest of the day. The cheeses were about 5 cm round by the same deep. Having eaten the aged cheddar with dinner tonight, I can tell you it was worth the effort... thanks CW!!! Lol 😂

The largest tent held all sorts of amazing flowers, cactus, and plants. Right inside were the gladdies... I want them ... will be checking out the catalogue with anticipation! The sweet peas ohh was tempted to buy a mixed packet but really don’t want to even think about customs on the way home!! Then there were the tuberous begonias and the LIlies ... did I happen to mention that I actually hate gardening??? Oh yeah I did ...

The Bonzai trees were a wonder ... patience, foresight, inspiration, confidence and... green fingers - non of which I have!! What truly got me gobsmacked was the “weeds” they were selling .... this is the stuff I grow well until Beachy looks, takes a deep breath, and says, nope it’s a weed!!!! Apparently wild woodland was the theme... taken to heart by most of the displays.

Outside in the trade areas were lots of different styles glass houses and gazebos. I didn’t think English suburbs had enough room in their back yard for these. Some were rustic, others Mediterranean and others just plain weird.

Highlight of this area was the wee electric mower that mowed each day... all by its self.. using algorithms and strategically placed wires. Yeah... naaa!!

Into the country style tent with all the goodies for sale. Everything from fresh water pearls to old maps, scarves to Yorkshire woollen coats ... Lisa would have loved the orange plaid one. I bought a necklace to replace my pretty glass one that broke when I knocked it off the dresser in Brugges.

Message sent to Mary that we were sitting outside the pavilion with a cold drink. She joined us and we continued our wander after a well earned sit. Chris found Pork scratching ... phew hot and spicy.. I found mince square .. there were all sorts of pies but they were cold. The mince square, aka fly cemetery for Coasters, was beautifully flavoured but in a short crust. Good but I make better lol 😂

On we wandered. There were several cheese stalls but we had enough and didn’t want to be tempted. Dodging prams, people with wire supports for plants, bloody cubes, zimmerframes, motorised chairs and baby buggies, it was a trail for any saint. I found I got very sarcastic when yet another bloody cube tried to run me over or decapitate my ankles!!!

We finally, about 4.45, decided enuf was enough and headed to find a seat and a drink. We messaged Chris A to say there was a beer for him ... London Pride... if he could find us... good lad, within minutes he appeared and we commandeered a picnic table. Major accomplishment by Mary because the place was packed. Two beers, Pimms and a wine later, we were almost human and ready to launch out on the last leg towards the gate.

A noticeable thing was the number and variety of gins stalls. Not being a gun drinker this didn’t appeal .. also Pimms.. which I do like and did have one... only one at £7!!! It was lovely and cold and I rinsed our the cup with water to get thoroughly hydrated.

We decided to walk to the train station and have a quick look at the castle. Wow huge place it goes on forever... CW said he would have got bored as a bricky because the buildings were so big.

Mary was keeping tabs on the cricket ... shame the NZers playing weren’t as conscientious.....

Chris wandered out the gate, heading the wrong direction and I called to him.. two ‘Bobbies’ were standing there and asked if they could help him .... No thanks I’m just a lost Kiwi.... just like the cricket team... the bobbies were very polite and didn’t rub it in.

Onto a 10 carriage train back to Wimbledon to the car and home. Very weary travellers.

CA and Mary put together a wonderful cold collation, shrimps, salmon, ham, salad, cheeses, bread and crackers. What a feast. Mary and I had a lovely bubbly and an early night... after a little tennis watching.... was had!!

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tjovalboy · 6 years

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It’ll Be Us (part 1/2)

short summary: frozen yogurt, Iris, and drama

part 2 should be done in a couple weeks or so!!

Words: 2060

Also on AO3

TJ looked up from his phone and sun rays blinded him as Cyrus plopped in the leather diner seat across from him.

He slid his neon green frozen yogurt cup under TJ’s nose. “I present to you: ‘The Crazy Side of Shadyside,’”

A drop of the head revealed a red creamy arch brodering the round edge of the cup, followed by orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple arches further in. At this, TJ glanced into his own cup and stifled a laugh.

“What? Let me see!”

TJ slid his cup to the boy across from him. “Mine’s called, ‘DJ Fruity’.”

Inside was a single swirl of plain white tart with an assortment of strawberry, blueberry, and kiwi toppings.

Cyrus sat back, dramatically clutching a hand to his chest. “Did we just accidentally coordinate our fro yo art though gay subtext, a quirky rhyme, and a soundcloud rapper?”

TJ cracked up feeling the familiar racing of his heart at Cyrus’s joking remark. “It’s just so us, isn’t it?”

The shorter boy followed and bursted next. “This has been a fantastic start to our day.”

TJ handed a stainless steel spoon to his boyfriend to enjoy “DJ Fruity,” while he excitedly dug into the pride flag design Cyrus had tailored for him that week. He couldn’t see himself eating frozen yogurt any other way again.

“You shouldn’t eat this kind of thing while wearing that.” Cyrus gestured at TJ’s Jefferson Middle School Basketball sweatshirt between bites. “Even though you’re technically not a middle schooler anymore, the ex-captain of the basketball team shouldn’t be getting his team sweatshirt dirty.”

TJ rolled his eyes playfully, but still stopped to take his sweatshirt off and set it on the seat next to him. In only their second week of dating, he loved that Cyrus’s helpful instinct were amplified around him, and most of the time, he was right.

TJ asked Cyrus out while they helped set up for Bex and Bowie’s wedding. The gang (him, Cyrus, Andi, Buffy, and Jonah) had free time to kill and Cyrus wanted to show him the Chinese finger trap Andi had in Andi Shack (with her permission, of course). TJ was obviously impressed with the art pieces Andi had laying around, so she slyly suggested that he and Cyrus make something for each other. The time spent alone together as the sun was going down with the fairy lights grazing their heads brought the question out of TJ’s mouth with ease, and they hardly noticed Andi and Buffy peering through the front window as they held each other’s hands and made it official.

They never ended up making anything for each other with Andi’s supplies the night of the wedding, but her suggestion gave Cyrus the idea for their frozen yogurt swap game at Lemon Berry Yogurt near the Spoon. He thought it would be a good way to to kick off the summer before TJ went to high school.

TJ looked at the boy across from him. “So, Underdog. You got any plans after this?”

Cyrus picked out a blueberry from the top of his tart and popped it into his mouth. “Nope. I am all free for whatever you’re about to say next.” TJ raised an eyebrow quizzically. “Wait, no. Scratch that. Just tell me what it is first.”

“Ah, don’t worry,” He chuckled and fought a blush. “I was just thinking we could watch a movie at my house,” he asked casually, continuing to eat his yogurt. However, despite the fact that they were dating, he was nervous about this request. The two held hands whenever they could, but cuddling was new, and he knew that a movie on a couch with two boyfriends might lead to that. He thought it would be a fun idea, though, and he hoped that Cyrus was thinking the same.

A glimpse of hesitation passed over Cyrus’s face, but it was only for a second before his usual upbeat demeanor took over. “Yeah.” Cyrus’s eyes twinkled. “Yeah, that sounds really good, TJ.”

There were so many couples at Jefferson that would have dates at fancy restaurants using their parents’ money, or hold hands a certain way because of something they’d seen in a movie. It was all a fantasy to them, acting too old for their age based off of impressions they got of dating that weren’t realistic. TJ couldn’t help but think that what he had with Cyrus was different. It was a middle school relationship where they made up food games and did things their own way, and it was what TJ loved most about them. He valued authenticity in people, and one of his biggest complaints to Cyrus was about how little of that the middle schoolers around them had.

Suddenly, a brown haired girl shuffling past their booth struck Cyrus’s attention.

“Iris!”

She spun around at the sound of her name, which weirdly sounded a lot like Cyrus’s. “Cyrus!” she exclaimed back.

“The names still sound so satisfying one after the other,” Cyrus remarked as she perched herself at the edge of the boys’ table.

“Yep.” TJ noticed she was avoiding his gaze. “And as always, the observation came from the unique, really just weird, but we’re gonna call it “unique,” mind of Cyrus Goodman.”

The three of them cracked up at the truth of her statement. Hearing TJ’s laugh reminded Cyrus there was something he still needed to do.

“Oh, TJ, this is my friend, Iris.” She shifted uncomfortably at the mention of her name. ”And Iris, my boyfriend, TJ.”

TJ jumped out of the booth so he could stand and extended a hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you. From what Cyrus told me, you seem really cool.” She looked at him for the first time as she returned the shake. “You’re welcome to sit of you want,” he said, gesturing to his own seat.

To TJ’s satisfaction, she took the seat he offered. Months ago, Cyrus told him about the high school girl he dated, named Iris, who he broke up with when he realized he was gay. Now, she seemed nervous around the new boyfriend as if she didn’t think she was welcome so he was being as friendly as possible to let her know that it wasn’t the case.

TJ slid in next to Cyrus across from his original seat and felt him squeeze his hand under the table. Facing them, Iris took bites from her full cup of froyo, already looking more relaxed.

“This is probably gonna sound weird.” She spoke after a couple of moments of silence. “But, sometimes, I like to come here after really sucky days at school and just go at my yogurt like it’s one of my canvasses.” She laughed lightly. “Then, when I’m done, I give it a stupid nickname and I-I don’t know-I just feel a little better. ”

TJ gaped at her and saw that Cyrus shared his expression. This girl they coincidentally ran into today turned out to be just like them. Not gay (but maybe, TJ thought), but appreciating the smaller aspects of life as a way of being themselves.

Iris chuckled nervously at them. “What is it?”

Cyrus tilted cup forward so she could see the fruit arrangement inside. “‘DJ Fruity’, courtesy of TJ Kippen,” he announced.

TJ looked down in playful embarrassment. “And ‘The Crazy Side of Shadyside’ a la Underdog,” he finished, showing his cup the same way.

She joined them gawking. “Oh my gosh, this is amazing.” She thrusted her rattling cup half full of Skittles under their noses to see. “I named this one ‘Dino Barf’ coming over here,” she exclaimed with a giggle.

“Taste the rainbow?” TJ raised an eyebrow and looked at his boyfriend.

“Gay subtext! It even coordinates!” Cyrus exclaimed.

Iris laughed. “Just promise you guys’ll show me DJ Fruity’s music someday ‘cause I’m really dying to know what they’re about.”

Oh boy, she had no idea, thought TJ.

She sighed to herself and paused. “This is such a nice break from being around the people at school.”

TJ noticed Iris often mentioned school in bad ways, whether it was the kind of day she had or the people there. As a soon to be high school freshman, this worried him and he wanted to know more.

“So, what’s the deal high school kids?” he asked.

This prompted a dry chuckle. “A lot of them are just--I don’t know...” She motioned in front of her. “...fake.”

TJ raised his eyebrows and Cyrus pinched an imaginary tea cup handle and took a “sip,” inviting her to continue.

“Like, I’m an artist, right? And maybe that’s it; that I’m really just complaining over nothing because I need originality and realness around me to feel good about my life, but I’m just sick and tired of everyone thinking they’re more mature because they’re going from meaningless relationship to meaningless relationship.”

“Yeah, I get that.” chimed Cyrus.

“Wow, I guess it really doesn’t get better after middle school,” TJ complained.

Iris took the last bite of her dessert and pushed the empty cup to the side. “Yeah, it doesn’t!” She shook her head, still fuming. “But the absolute worst of them all...are the jocks.”

The weight of the room shifted.

“Um, Ir-”

TJ darted a look at the boy sitting next to him, stopping him mid sentence. They were going to act cool about this. “What about them?” he inquired in his best casual voice.

Inside, TJ was hurt. This wasn’t the answer he was expecting, but he pushed the issue because he wanted to know everything she knew about the group of kids he was getting into. He loved basketball and was ecstatic that he was guaranteed a spot on the Junior Varsity team as a freshman, but he hated the idea of becoming one of the inauthentic people he always looked down on.

Cyrus looked at him with a concerned expression, but kept quiet about who TJ was.

“Well, it’s a small school, so Amber keeps me up with all the drama,” she prefaced to them. “The drama that usually happens is that the jock is a straight up jerk to whoever they’re with, and when they break up, they move on crazy quickly.”

That didn’t sound good at all, but TJ was determined to hold his ground.

“That isn’t everyone though, is it?” he argued.

Iris eyed him suspiciously. “Like I said, it’s a small school, so, pretty much.” she said hesitantly. “They end up spending so much time with each other, between locker room talk and parties, that the jerk influence just spreads.”

Was that who he was going to turn into next year? His face reddened at the unsettling thought.

“But a lot of them change, right?” piped Cyrus, noticing TJ’s growing discomfort.

“Well, yeah. They’re still human you know,” she stated obviously and smiled. TJ felt a little relief with this. “But the thing is that I haven’t seen it happen very much, and neither have a lot of people I know.” She furrowed her brows. “So, I think it’s safe to say that Grant High School athletes--past, present and future--are fake and just plain mean, especially with the people they decide to get into relationships with.”

TJ couldn’t believe it. There was apparently no good way to look at this and he needed to take his aggressions out on someone. He scowled at Iris. “No wonder you don’t have any friends. You just think you know everything about athletes, but you don’t!” he snapped, already pushing himself out of the booth.

“Excuse me?” Iris retorted angrily as he strode away toward the door.

Cyrus looked extremely worried. He fumbled with both of their empty frozen yogurt cups as he exited the booth in a hurry to catch up with him. “I’m sorry, Iris. We’ll talk soon, maybe?” he said back to her, tripping over his shoes and following TJ outside.

Now alone, Iris frantically wondered what she had done to cause this outburst. She felt terrible, especially since it seemed like the three of them were getting along well as a group. Amidst her thought, a light blue, rumpled sweatshirt on the seat next to her caught her eye. She held it up, her jaw dropping as she read the white logo printed across the front.

#tyrus #andi mack #tj kippen #cyrus goodman #iris #I cant believe i finally finished

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letterboxd · 6 years

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Debra Granik Q&A.

“I’m trying to make small films. I’m not trying to create stars. I’m trying to create roles where women don’t have to take off their clothes to be interesting.”

Thomasin Harcourt McKenzie (as Tom) with Debra Granik on the set of Leave No Trace.

Following her 2010 sleeper hit Winter’s Bone, Debra Granik’s newest film Leave No Trace follows a father and daughter who have been living undetected on public land until their presence is noticed and the authorities step in.

Based on Peter Rock’s novel My Abandonment (itself inspired by a real-life event), Ben Foster plays Will, a former soldier living off the grid with post-traumatic stress disorder, while Kiwi newcomer Thomasin Harcourt McKenzie is his teenage daughter, Tom, through whose perspective the story unfolds.

Letterboxd sat down with Granik in New York City to talk about filming in the forests of the Pacific Northwest, the challenge of filming an invisible condition (PTSD) and how she weathered the pressure of finding another Jennifer Lawrence. We also asked her to tell us about the films that she returns to again and again because they feed something in her—that list is here.

How are you feeling about the response to Leave No Trace so far? The audience we watched it with at BAM Cinemafest was captivated.

Oh, thank you. The bedrock is relief, because you can’t predict how a film can be received or understood or enjoyed. Nothing can ever predict that. What I really love is that some of the themes are being discussed. I really like that. I love that when it’s engendered by other people’s films, so of course it makes me excited to be part of storytelling tradition that would facilitate that. And I also really like that, because it’s regional, it exposes some of the glory of a particular part of the continent, and that people can appreciate it and look into it.

Thomasin Harcourt McKenzie (Tom) and Ben Foster (Will).

The film is deeply immersive in its nature setting. There are ways of filming that are certainly good-looking, and then there are ways of filming nature where you feel you’re actually in that forest, and that’s what you and your DP Michael McDonough have done. Some of our Letterboxd members (Melissa, MasterLundy) wanted to know why you’re so drawn to filming in a rustic setting, in nature rather than in cities, and how you approach that in terms of your filming.

I think maybe it even surprises me! I think one logistical reason is that it is actually easier to film outside of a city, you know? I mean just in terms of garnering your resources and keeping a small footprint… though I’m excited by the photography of the metropolis and will endeavor at some point to do something like that. In fact, in my first film, it was just interesting seeing them come into the city. It was a big deal, you know, sort of the bridge and tunnel experience was very photogenic in some ways.

I love the idea that when you film outside of a big city you can actually almost take your time more, in some ways. And I think the immersion is very related to some of the comfort that the actors can feel with Michael; that he’s willing to wear knee-pads and crouch down and be part of that inner circle of connection. Near a tent, near the fire-pit, or when they’re ministering to each other. And when that happens you feel a sense that you’ve been allowed to come close and that you’re with them.

And then of course to show the splendour and scope of the forest, stepping back and using the cinema tools that allow that: a wider lens, and the tripod, and stabilizing, and allowing the frame to be as big as possible.

So I think that outdoor spaces allow for that, whereas the indoor space is the box and the confinement and the geometry. It is much more established and familiar.

It’s cool to hear what Michael was doing physically. Quite often a camera is a long way away with a certain lens but in this case it felt, watching, that there were three characters—Will, Tom, and the camera.

At times, for sure, because the scenes were quiet. Coming in close, being very quiet about it. When we do those things we’re not using lights in the forest, we’re using all natural light, so maybe that’s also a really big help. You know, we’re reflecting things gently, we’re shielding certain hot spots but it’s done with flags and silks and bounce cards, not with big lights.

You’re not bringing in huge 6000Ks to the forest?

No, no!

Director of Photography Michael McDonough with Debra Granik.

You filmed the unfilmable in a way, which is PTSD. These types of mental health conditions, which we can’t see, rely so much on character rather than action. Why was the notion of filming this condition so interesting and important to you and what have you learned about it along the way?

I was very influenced by a book called The Evil Hours by David J. Morris, that is a chronicle by a marine—who is also a journalist—who put such specific words to what it was like to try to understand what was happening inside him and inside other men. And he also was informed very much by a woman, because another very significant sector or arena of PTSD is through sexual violence.

So, he looked back in history to how other philosophers and people in the medical and ‘helping’ professions had tried to understand it, and he looked really specifically at WWI and the poets of the UK who were able to put words to it. And then a couple of really humane doctors who were then the receivers of their words and it really opened the doctors’ minds because the poets could put such precision to it.

And so he looks at this almost miraculous time of gentle understanding and almost posits ‘can we have that now? Could we understand these ways? Could we replicate some of the things that were done in the British VA [Veterans’ Affairs] system after WWI?’, you know?

But the only way to get at this—I resonate with your point so much—is to try to extrude what is it that makes this particular person [Will] not want to come back in. What is he trying to stabilize and how is he doing it? He’s trying to find an environment in which there are very few triggers for him, where his hyper-vigilance is maintained at a kind of even keel, and where he’s very selectively choosing the things that he can still have faith in, that he can still admire and love on, which would be the elements of the forest, and his very loyal companion, his daughter. And to strip away that which clogs his system or causes such jitters that he doesn’t feel well.

So the practitioners, of course, that is one of their responsibilities. By administering certain kinds of tests and surveys, the VA tries relentlessly and tirelessly to say ‘hey, these are some things you might be feeling. You’re not alone’. They do a beautiful job in trying to put words to that which becomes one of the greatest mysteries, right? Why do we feel what we feel? How potent the brain is with its neurochemistry, and then what a formidable kind of organ the conscience is! The conscience can’t be quieted easily. It asks for answers. It asks for contemplation, you know?

So then, the story gets really interesting because, intersecting with Will’s PTSD, you have his daughter, a teenage girl, also coming of age, also coming into her consciousness. Can we talk for a while about finding Thomasin Harcourt McKenzie? She lives far away from you, in Wellington, New Zealand, and is mostly unknown outside her home country. You saw her audition tape via casting agents Kelly Barden and Paul Schnee. What was it you saw in that tape that led you down the path of choosing her?

In the tape it was, I think, the fact that she had immersed [herself] in the script and in reading the book. It was palpable in the way that she was choosing to be in the scene, and what she was expressing in the scene. But it’s very hard to tell off of one tape. That’s a very uncomfortable situation, so it required conversations to flush out the rest and the conversations were lyrical. She’s a very open-hearted person who’s generous of spirit in terms of how she wants to conduct a conversation.

So this is going so well and I’m actually really enjoying this conversation so much, her sincerity, and I said ‘wow’, after talking to her, to the people back home here. I said ‘I’d like to talk to her again because this is leaving a big imprint’.

And as I saw some of the auditions locally, I realised that some of the television and theater training had maybe taken away some of the gentle spontaneity that Thom’s been able to retain.

Because of Winter’s Bone and what it did for Jennifer Lawrence (earning her a Best Actress Oscar nomination), did you feel any responsibility along the lines of ‘Debra Granik’s making another film, there’s another role for a young breakout star, who’s it going to be?’. Or did you try to ignore the fact that there might be a lot of attention on it?

Yeah. The attention feels more intimidating than productive. So, you know, I don’t welcome that so much because I think to do things requires a lot of quiet. I think many actors that get blown up really big feel that every move, everything they say, they change their hair, oh my lord, it becomes so relentless and it becomes very hard to function within that, I believe. So I try to put some of that aside really and say ‘that’s not what I’m looking for’.

In terms of responsibility, I don’t wanna take that on. I don’t want to have that foisted on me. I need to just be ornery and say ‘back off!’ you know? ‘No!’ I’m trying to make small films. I’m not trying to create stars. I’m trying to create good roles for young women that go beyond passing The Bechdel Test, you know? I’m trying to create roles where women don’t have to take off their clothes to be interesting.

Thomasin and Ben did a lot of rehearsing together, and they had some intensive skills training with outdoor survival consultant Dr. Nicole Apelian. Without any spoilers, there’s a scene in which the weather turns cold and things become dire. It’s visceral and tense, they have to work fast to build shelter or someone could die. Can you give us a sense of what those filming days were like?

Yeah. Well. Even making that shelter is intense because it’s a very multi-tiered process. The skills trainer was on the set that day, and the trainer she’d also enlisted to help (named Alan). Ben was very committed to it. They’d already constructed one in rehearsal. He wanted it to be—and Nicole did too—a really viable shelter that would be the kind of shelter that could save a life, through just this basic, I wanna say geothermal engineering of heat retention. Trapping heat, that’s the goal. Trap it in the clothing and then the shelter.

It was intense because halfway through the day you know there’s a really big risk of losing time. And then we also had a really bad dilemma where sun came really strongly that day. The morning had been really misty and good for it, and we didn’t have the kind of silks where you can just block it out, and when the sun comes out robustly it just doesn’t matter, there’s not really much [you can do]. So we had to basically take the gamble that it was going to be the day-for-night. For the DP it was less of a gamble because he knows how to do it - it allows the illusion of night-time light.

But the day was hard. It had all of these physical things to navigate and so by the end when the shelter was built and they were finally in it, we had to do it as a rolling series, you know. We didn’t have time to do takes! They had to try a couple of versions.

I felt like a failure. I felt that how was it that I couldn’t figure out how to pace this day so that by the time they actually need to have their exchange we’ve got eleven minutes.

But you got it.

We got fragments of it that then can gel to give the ambience and the circumstances of how that night became dire for them.

Could you share with us any films that showed you a storytelling pathway for Leave No Trace?

I really relied on three documentaries as inspiration for this film and they were all done by British crews. One of them’s available on YouTube and it’s a very beautiful film called Soldiers in Hiding, and it’s about Vietnam-era soldiers who had hidden on Federal parklands not far from where we filmed, on the Olympic Peninsula.

The second documentary is called Hidden Heroes. That one I believe is hard to find.

And then I also really valued so much the work of a filmmaker called Michael Grigsby. He did a beautiful film about the lives of soldiers, We Went to War [a sequel to his 1970 documentary I Was a Soldier]. So those films were very influential.

Finally, tell us about some of the films that you return to again and again because they feed something in you.

Werner Herzog’s Stroszek. Lukas Moodysson’s Fucking Åmål/Show Me Love. I love the way parents are portrayed in that film. I love the depiction of high school, of not knowing who you’re going to love and how that might happen. I love the conflicts in there and the incremental changes. It’s just a very rich kind of social realism for me. Céline Sciamma’s Girlhood. Aki Kaurismäki’s The Other Side of Hope.

For social realism in the US, something that I’ve been looking at a lot were the films that were in the 40s that dealt with realistic looks at financial crisis, the films of William Wellman. And then I would say also Saturday Night and Sunday Morning, a British kitchen-sink film. That’s produced by Tony Richardson [director: Karel Reisz]. And one more, in honor of Ermanno Olmi: Il Posto.

Leave No Trace is out in US cinemas 29 June 2018. Our thanks to producer Linda Reisman, Miranda Harcourt, and the team at Falco Ink for interview arrangements.

#Debra Granik #Female directors #directed by women #ben foster #leave no trace #winter's bone #jennifer lawrence #letterboxd

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