#(I kept it a bit shorter so it could adapt better to next month!) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

foxtophat · 5 years

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hello hello!!! it’s your friendly bi-weekly update here, telling you that this dumbass fic has updated and you can now read it! mbmbam-style talking points: Springtime, Intimate Haircuts, Children Rebellions, and Grace Under Pressure!

i had a lot of fun putting this one together, mostly b/c the entire chapter changed when i went to work on it. carmina is surprisingly fun to write, although i try to stay away from her dialogue as i can’t write children at all, and john is increasingly more frustrating for nick, which is always a blast. i think we’ll probably check in with kim next chapter and see how things are holding up on her end. i’m sure it’s fine!

as usual, if you enjoy what i’m doing, feel free to leave a comment, or reblog, or send me anonymous asks telling me i’m not thinking about xyz deeply enough and should be ashamed!!!! i won’t be ashamed but i will appreciate you taking the time to tell me i should be :)

for real though, thank you guys so much for being so supportive, and i hope that i continue to provide some good, engaging “nick and kim adopt an asshole” content!!! i appreciate each and every one of you. below the cut is the text for this chapter, in case you don’t wanna leave tumblr!

The seasons seem to roll over without Nick ever really realizing it. The last snowfall was a week ago, and although the nights are still bitterly cold and long, the sun burns bright enough in the morning to chase the chills and frost away before noon. The vines that cover everything have begun to bud again, although it'll be a little while yet before they turn pink and blossom.

Nick is glad that spring is back, but coming out of semi-hibernation is a struggle. He wants to stay in bed, to pull on a few jackets and sit around the campfire, to work on the random DIY projects that kept him busy while they were partially snowed in. Now, it's time for Kim to start talking about planting again, and Carmina has started begging to go hunting with Aunt Grace, and the radio is coming to life every evening with people checking in after their own long winter rests. Hurk and Sharky are trying to peddle something they call party liquor over their own channel, suspiciously refusing to outright call it moonshine, and Fall's End has begun broadcasting about retaking the farmland that's become home to monstrous bison and two-headed cows.

Sometimes, Nick thinks he's stuck going ten miles-per-hour while everyone else can switch gears at the drop of a hat. Adaptability is the second name of survival out here, but damn it, Nick needs a couple of days before he can start thinking about trading with other survivors, much less making the long-needed visits he's been putting off since they climbed out of the ground. He needs to go into Fall's End proper, to pay his respects to Mary May and visit Jerome. He also needs to go out and finally trade out for some hens, so they can have eggs more often, and so they have their own supply to barter with. He's got a list a mile long of things he has to do; so does Kim, for that matter, although she handles it better than he does.

At least they can use John to pick up the extra slack. John's the reason why Nick was able to clear junk out of the hangar, and why all of the trash from Carmina's old room has been taken outside and burned. Ever since Nick fixed the window in his room, John's been quicker to work and easier to instruct, and his weird habits have mostly died off. He still gets distracted during long, monotonous tasks, and he doesn't speak unless spoken to most of the time, but at least he's stopped pacing around and muttering all night, and he's starting to remember what table manners are.

The first unofficial day of spring is family haircut day. Carmina demands that Kim lop all of her long hair off, leaving her with a see-your-manager bob that Nick hopes she'll get tired of. Kim helps Nick out too, trimming up the back for him as he cuts his bushy beard down to just off his chin. Getting a clean shave is more trouble than it's worth these days, and Nick has long since gotten used to wearing a beard. Besides, Kim doesn't seem to mind the Kenny Loggins look one bit, pulling gently on his whiskers to steal a kiss once he's done.

After Nick, Kim cuts John's hair. Nick doesn't know how he feels about John being included in a family affair, but the guy needs it more than any of them. There's only so many bucket-baths one man can take, and John's hair seems to have absorbed more dirt than water could remove. Nick's not sure if it's actually eight years worth of grime that he's keeping in his tangled hair, but it's bad enough to need serious attention.

They do it upstairs in John's room with the door locked, while Carmina reads downstairs — Nick really doesn't need her asking questions about why John's being included on family haircut day, thanks. He stands by the door just in case Carmina tries to interrupt, or in the unlikely event that John tries to bolt, unhappily watching ask Kim sits John down in a chair borrowed from downstairs.

John keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes as Kim assesses the damage, hands clasped tightly in his lap. When Kim huffs unhappily at the rat's nest she's facing, he drops his head so the hair can curtain his face.

Kim hacks off as much hair as she can, careful not to cut one side too much shorter than the other until she knows what she's got left to work with. She orbits slowly around John as she quietly trims away dreaded knots and grime-caked tangles, more focused on her work than on the dangerous psychopath who could grab her kitchen shears at any moment. As she trims his bangs back, John closes his eyes, and he keeps them that way even as she moves on, leaving his face exposed.

She wrinkles her nose as she clears enough hair to reveal John's destroyed ear, heavily scarred and torn from where the deputy shot him. She says nothing about it, but Nick can see from John's expression that it's all he's thinking about. Nick wonders if he can still hear out of it, or if his eardrum never recovered. He's never even thought about it before.

The space between the three of them starts to fill with the heaviness of unintentional silence, but Nick can't bring himself to break the quiet. He doesn't want to distract Kim or trigger some fighting instinct from John. And anyway, he doesn't know what he could say that would make this whole thing feel less weird.

"Well," Kim says, once she's stepped back to get a look at her handiwork, "I mean, it's... better."

It's a shaggier, poor man's version of what John's hair used to look like, but Nick can at least tell the hair that's left is clean. There's not enough hair for him to hide behind anymore, much less hide his busted ear. For the first time, Nick notices an old scar across John's forehead and the dark gray hair that's grown in at his temples. It's... jarring. All at once, Nick is looking at the man he'd sworn to destroy as if he'd only just now removed some kind of disguise. An older, more exhausted version of his sworn enemy is sitting right there, leaving Nick to wonder if cleaning him up was even such a good idea to begin with.

"Damn," Nick says as realization dawns on him, "There's no hiding who he is now, huh."

John's jaw clenches. Nick wonders if he'd been hedging his bets on being indistinguishable from any other survivor.

"We aren't hiding him," Kim huffs.

This is news to Nick, who's been operating with as much secrecy as possible. They'd even stopped having Grace come pick up Carmina, going out to meet her instead. "Yeah, well, we aren't exactly banging pots and pans to draw attention to him, either," he points out.

" You're the one who said he needed a haircut."

"And he did! Just... I didn't realize the difference it'd make, is all." Nick tries to catch John's attention, but he seems to be just fine blending into the surroundings while Nick and Kim argue about his stupid hair. "Anyone with a scope is gonna spot him half a mile away."

"People are going to find out about this eventually, Nick," Kim tells him. She goes so far as to rest a hand on John's shoulder to emphasize her point, saying, "We can't keep his survival a secret forever."

Nick frowns, but Kim's right. Eventually, they're going to have to make a case for letting John live. So far, it's been alright, but... well, is John really worth staking their reputations on? Even if he was, has he done enough to prove that Nick hadn't made a dumb, sympathetic mistake? And if not, is Nick going to have to step aside and let somebody else do what he should have done months ago?

"Well, we've got time to figure it out," Nick admits at last, mostly because he doesn't want to think about it right now. Since it feels weird having a conversation about John right in front of him without addressing him at all , Nick offers him some direct commentary. "I guess you better just keep working on that good karma, huh?" he asks, aiming for smug but falling somewhat short.

"Yeah," John rasps. "I guess so."

The haircut does something for John's attitude, although it takes a few days before Nick notices. After a couple months of strange demureness, he begins to react to things like a goddamn human again. He can meet Nick's eyes now, although he struggles to hold the contact for more than a few seconds. When Nick or Kim tell him to do something, there's no more mute nodding. Instead, John will say, "Okay," or, "I understand." Sometimes, he'll even ask questions about the things they tell him to do, like where to move things or if he's doing something right. Once, after a few solid hours in too-bright-for-February sunlight, John asks Nick for a break, and it doesn't feel like selling out to let him sit down and have some lunch.

Of course, Nick never forgets that John is a manipulative user. He's got a way of seeming reasonable at first, going from pleasantries to stealing your land out from under you before anyone realizes he's dropped the kind and charitable act. Nick can't afford to forget that. There's nobody left in the world who could help him if John decides to toy with him this time around. Before the bombs, there had been laws and regulations and an entire justice system that he could get help from, but now? Now, if John decides he wants Nick's property more than he wants to make amends, all he's gotta do is take it.

Nick would like to believe that John isn't planning some sort of coup, that he's not just acting pitiable to drop their guard, but he's already taking so many risks with the guy. It's not safe to think John is playing along with Nick and Kim because he feels bad about what happened. That kind of low-ball expectation is exactly what caused Hope County to underestimate the Seeds before, and Nick isn't going to do that again.

John always seems tense whenever Carmina is around. She knows better than to directly address him, of course, since Kim and Nick have told her multiple times not to, but somehow she manages to work around the rules. She'll pretend he isn't around when she asks about his tattoos or scars or how his ear looks weird, and no amount of scolding manages to stop her. She asks for specifics about what he did to get in so much trouble, and why they're always watching him, and why he's not allowed to handle guns or knives or anything bigger than a hammerhead missing its handle. The healthier John looks, the more she asks about him, and now that he's got a haircut and clothes that hide most of his scars and tattoos, Carmina's fascination has started full force.

The only thing that keeps her from turning to John outright for her answers is his avoidance of her entirely. John goes out of his way to avoid looking at her, and if there's any distance to be gained between them, he's the one looking to gain it. Nick can't tell if he just isn't fond of kids, or if he has something personal against Carmina. The latter concept probably shouldn't irritate him so much, but — well, that's his daughter, man! He's obligated to be irritated when someone doesn't like her, even if that someone is his oldest enemy.

Thankfully, now that it's nicer out, Carmina has better things to do than sit around speculating on the guy living in the spare room. Nick takes her on an unsuccessful fishing trip, Kim takes her to visit Grace, and on days when nothing special is planned, she gets to run pretty much free, as long as she's within earshot.

One morning, as Kim and Carmina get ready to go meet up with Grace, Carmina asks, "Does dad always have to watch John?"

Nick thinks she waited specifically until Nick had brought John downstairs to ask, which is a little too cunning for his liking. "I'm not always watching him," Nick replies. "Sometimes it's your mom."

"We've told you," Kim chides gently. "John needs supervision."

John doesn't look up from his customary spot on the bottom stair, chewing through his breakfast. His shoulders are held tight, but otherwise, it's as if he can't even hear the conversation happening around him. Nick has to admit, he's impressed that John doesn't get more worked up when they talk about him like he's not there. It'd piss the hell out of Nick if he were in the other's shoes.

"We could take him with us," Carmina suggests. Since she's standing in front of her mom, she can't see the horrified expression that Kim directs Nick's way.

"Uh, I don't think that'd be a good idea," Nick says, which is usually what he says whenever he wants the conversation to end.

Apparently, that's not going to fly this time around, as Carmina pouts and asks, "But why not ?"

Kim puts her hands gently on Carmina's shoulders, sighing and saying, "It's complicated, honey."

Well, great, they just used both of their canned responses to her back-to-back. Carmina is a good kid — patient, kind, tolerant — but she knows when she's being given the runaround and she won't put up with any of it.

"That's what you always say," she complains. "I want to know why! I'm complicated too, I can handle it!"

"Carmina, it's not that easy —"

"I don't care!" Carmina exclaims. Her frustration is about to boil over as she whirls to face John. "I'm talking to you, now!" she demands, downright offended that she has to declare it. Carmina hasn't worked herself up into a riot for a while now, but she certainly hasn't lost her touch. "You're supposed to be a bad guy, but all you do is hang around all day! Don't you want to go outside? Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

Nick has definitely told John not to address Carmina, but this feels like extenuating circumstances. It was bound to happen — there's only so many times you can write off the prisoner in your house as a disagreeable weirdo before your daughter demands answers. He just isn't sure that there's anything John can say that won't raise more questions, each one harder to answer than the last.

John finally looks up from his breakfast to offer Carmina an unimpressed stare. "I have no interest in speaking to you," he tells her. His voice is downright chilly, with a tone best reserved for dismissing an incompetent secretary with an NDA. It's borderline offensive to have John talk to his little girl that way, but the ice freezes Carmina's escalating tantrum in its tracks.

"O-Oh," she says, deflating almost immediately. It's only going to dissuade her for a couple of days, tops, but by then they'll have figured something to say. Something that will paper over history that Nick can't afford to hide from her forever — eventually, they're going to have to tell her just how big John's role was in their suffering. But it's going to require nuance, and a better explanation than, Daddy's just going with his gut, sweetie .

"I'll try to explain," Kim tells her, turning her away from John's visible disinterest and facing her towards the door. "You just have to be patient. We're doing our best."

" He's not," Carmina sulks. She pulls on her coat, offering Nick a gloomy, "Bye, dad," before Kim ushers her out of the house.

Nick turns to John as soon as they leave, ready to lecture him on how to talk to children, but John doesn't look remotely up for it. Just the one interaction has left him wiped, and there's a distant glaze to his eyes as he gets caught up in his own thoughts. He keeps getting trapped in his own head; it used to irritate Nick, but lately, it's just worrisome behavior that he's got to keep an eye on. Like Carmina having nightmares, or Kim taking out her stress on firewood.

"You sure know how to handle kids," Nick winds up saying, which isn't exactly the fight he'd wanted to start.

John closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Do you have something else for me to do today other than talk?" he sighs. He's trying for irritation, but he only manages to sound exhausted.

Nick can't help but think he's hit a nerve. Worse, he feels bad about it. He tries to brush it off, asking, "Well, what do you wanna do — pull siding or chop firewood?"

"Does it matter what I want?" John replies.

Damn, but John has perfected that cool dismissal, leaving Nick feeling chastised. "I guess not," he grouses.

Nick is definitely sulking as he sets John to removing some rotten siding. Thankfully, he has a whole bunch of wood to take his frustration out on. He's got John right in view, and he knows how to throw an ax and sometimes even hit things with one, so he should be fine. Anyway, John only ever has eyes for his work — Nick's not sure if escaping is really on his mind anymore. Sort of like feeding raccoons. You do it because you don't want them to go hungry, like any decent person, and the next thing you know they've stopped foraging and come by like clockwork every Wednesday night until the apocalypse.

Actually, maybe that's Stockholm syndrome? Nick isn't sure. He sure hopes not.

The day goes by as uneventfully as any other. It's not particularly hot out, but the sun is out and the birds are singing in true springtime fashion. It's actually a pretty nice day when all's said and done; Nick takes a minute or two after he finishes chopping wood to enjoy the blue sky and the tall, somewhat decimated trees swaying in the breeze. It's quiet all around, feeling like the edge of the world for a second or two before distant gunshots remind him that they aren't truly alone out here. He doubts it's anything to worry about, and he's sure that it has nothing to do with Kim and Carmina meeting Grace, but he still worries about it enough to chop down a few more logs.

Afterward, Nick definitely could use a break, sweaty and tired and a little hungry. John looks mostly done, too, having taken off nearly all of the section Nick had outlined for him. There's enough scrap to make plenty of shingles to finish the roof, even if it means leaving some of the house exposed. The nails will be useful, too, and Kim can probably figure out what to make with the unusable bits of wood.

"C'mon," he calls, shaking his canteen in John's direction, "Get some water. Then, you can start pulling any nails out of the boards that managed to survive. We can't afford to run out of those if we're gonna fix up the hangar."

John takes a gratefully large drink before he asks, "What's the point? You don't have a plane."

Nick rolls his eyes. Great, now he's got another petulant child asking dumb questions to deal with. "No, asshole, I don't. But I figure the house isn't really big enough for all the supplies we're gonna need. Wood, siding, sheet metal, not to mention the generator that's been sitting in the closet for longer than you've been here. There's that old chest freezer in there, maybe it'll still work." He waves towards the building, which is missing a good deal of its roof, RYE & SON faded across the front. "I'm not just gonna leave it like that."

John doesn't have anything to say to that — if he does, he keeps it to himself. Which is good. Fine! Nick doesn't need, or want , John to argue with him about the damn hangar.

Together, they drag long strips of old siding to the porch, where Nick has John sit while he gets to work on dinner, which is going to be classic, leftover-meat-and-potato stew. By the time Carmina and Kim get back, Nick will have everything taken care of and under control here. Kim will have probably figured out what to tell Carmina to keep her from putting too much trust in John, without telling her the gruesome, not-safe-for-children details. They'll sit down and talk about going fishing, and hopefully this time Nick won't ruin the stew with too much salt.

Carmina comes running towards the house a good hour before Nick expected her to be back. His heart immediately leaps into his throat as he imagines why she's alone, why she's towards him looking so upset. Thankfully, Kim is following right behind, which stops him from blocking Carmina as she bolts up the back porch and inside without a backward glance. The relief Nick feels at seeing Kim is short-lived as he realizes she isn't alone — Grace is standing there beside her, rifle in hand, staring across the backyard at John Seed sitting on the porch with a pile of nails at his feet.

"Ah, shit," is the first thing that Nick manages to say. He turns to John, with a fresh haircut and his sleeves rolled up to show off his tattoos, and he knows there's no mistaking him for anybody else. Grace is going to take one look at him through her scope and pop his head clean off his shoulders. "Don't move, don't speak, don't do anything ," Nick warns him. "Just... sit there, okay? Carmina's just upstairs. I don't want her to hear you get your brains blown out because you decided now was the time to bolt."

John doesn't respond, but he also doesn't move, frozen with a piece of wood clutched loosely in his hands. That should count for something. Nick turns back to Kim and Grace, who still haven't come any closer. Kim is talking to Grace, who may or may not be listening to whatever she's trying to say. All Nick knows is that Grace has him pinned dead to rights with an immeasurably pissed off glare.

He should be worrying less about John getting shot and more about Grace shooting him . Shit, should he go over to them and try to patch things up? That would be leaving John unattended. That would look bad for them, right?

Finally, Grace begins an approach. She's got her rifle clutched against her chest, her stony gaze sliding from Nick to John. Kim hovers behind her, anxiously giving Grace some distance as she tries to explain everything to Nick through frantic hand gestures alone.

Grace reaches the fire pit before she stops. She looks at the stew, bubbling in the pot, then to John, and finally to Nick.

"So it's true," she says.

"I know you're probably angry," Nick begins. From Grace's sharp glare, it's the wrong way to start the conversation.

"Angry doesn't begin to describe how I feel right now, Nick," she replies flatly. Nick starts to suspect that she's only holding on to her gun to keep herself from wailing on him. "You're harboring a goddamn cult leader in your home! You've been hiding John Seed in your home for months — what the hell are you thinking? Have you two forgotten what this maniac did to all of us?" She points accusingly at his chest, "Did you forget what he did to you ?"

"Of course I haven't!" Nick struggles not to raise his voice, trying desperately to maintain some kind of diplomacy with one of his oldest and closest friends. But he doesn't have any defense prepared for John, and he's not all that willing to defend him to begin with, so being backed into a corner isn't helping. "How could I? That's the reason he's here — he owes us!"

Kim jumps in to plead with Grace. "It's like I told you," she insists. "Nick gave him an ultimatum. He's been sticking by it."

Grace is overwhelmed enough that she spits in disgust. "You made a deal with a devil to mend fences and pull nails?" she asks. "You think that's what he owes Hope County? Some housework ? Is that really worth rekindling the god-damned cult?"

"Hey, there's none of that bullshit around here. John," Nick instructs, "Tell her."

"It's true," John rasps. He's pale and trembling, looking like he might faint. "Eden's Gate is dead."

"What makes you think I'd believe a word you'd say?" Grace snaps. "You're nothing but a murderous conman. Don't you dare speak to me."

"You don't need to believe him," Kim says, moving in to distract Grace's lethal glare from John. "You can believe us. The cult destroyed everything, and then it destroyed itself. All we're trying to do is put the pieces back together the best we can. For everyone ."

"You can't possibly think this is a good idea," Grace says, a distinct accusation buried in her words. "He's lying to you. He's using you two. And you're just going to let him?" When neither of them immediately respond, she scoffs loudly. "Unbelievable. If Rook were here..."

"You know exactly what they would do," Kim says.

Grace taps an irritated beat against her rifle, scowling first at Kim, then at John. She's probably trying to stare him to death. Nick's just glad she isn't directing that lethal glare his way. "And what do you expect me to do?" she asks.

Nick is sure that if Grace chooses to shoot John, he'll let it happen. He worries about the aftermath, about his relationship with Grace, about Carmina's wellbeing, about the kind of post-apocalyptic world they'd finally be living in, but he's sure that he won't try to stop her. Mostly sure. Pretty sure.

Lord , Nick prays, Please do not test me on this one today.

"I'm hoping you'll trust us to do what's right," Kim says, concluding what sounds like a defense she's been building since this whole mess started. Nick can only imagine what the walk back home must have been like.

For a moment, Grace doesn't move, her jaw clenching as she considers the stakes. Nick doesn't know what makes the decision for her, but finally, she eases up on her gun. "I must be an idiot," she mutters to herself, before addressing the two of them directly. "The minute he reveals his true colors, you tell me."

"Yeah," Nick says, surprised at how breathless he sounds. Had he been holding his breath? "Yeah, obviously."

"You're making me take a huge risk that I don't want to take," she informs them grimly, ignoring John as if her life depends on it. " Don't make me regret it."

Grace storms away with such righteous anger that Nick almost doesn't catch the retreat for what it is. He can hardly believe that she's leaving, still tensed for the gunshot he'd thought was inevitable. As soon as Grace disappears from view, John lurches from his seat, sweaty face going gray. He barely manages to stagger to the corner of the house before he throws up, clutching the wall for support.

Nick will handle that in a minute. First, though, he turns to ask his wife, "What the hell happened?"

"God, Nick, it was a disaster," Kim sighs, looking pale and trembly herself. "Carmina was still upset when we met Grace, and she spilled everything. I tried to soften the blow, to, you know, explain, but Grace didn't believe any of it at first, and then Carmina was talking about him being in our room all night..."

"Jesus." Nick rubs his eyes, then wraps his arms around Kim, feeling her melt into the hug. "I should've been there. I should've told Grace before Carmina could get the chance." He groans quietly, "Damn it, she's probably still freaking out up there."

"She was convinced Grace was going to kill him," Kim tells him. "She thought it was all her fault."

Nick sighs. "This was a big mistake. I should've taken him to Grace when I found him. Carmina doesn't deserve any of this."

Gently breaking away from the hug, Kim looks briefly towards John before gesturing towards the house. "I should go check on her. She needs to know everything is... well, stable. For now, anyway."

"Yeah, you do that. I'll, uh... I'll deal with this mess."

Nick watches Kim go inside, and then turns to watch the pathway Grace had disappeared down. He half expects to see her lurking in the bushes, but he knows Grace better than that. She would never let him see her coming if that were the case.

John sits down heavily against the side of the house, pale and wracked with uncontrollable tremors. It's not the reaction that Nick is used to — whenever he waved his gun around, John always seemed patiently resigned, waiting for the time when Nick would finally make good on his hollow threats. Grace hadn't even pointed her rifle at him, and he's losing his damned lunch.

Nick catches John muttering to himself as he approaches, but he doesn't hear the words, and John shuts up when he gets too close. He stands over John for a minute, but the move seems too aggressive when John looks up at him with saucer-wide eyes. Reluctantly, he crouches down, his knee popping in complaint.

"Well," Nick says, when John just stares at him, "Looks like you're still in one piece." When that doesn't get a reaction, he scrubs his beard and tries another approach. "I guess Carmina doesn't take the cold shoulder very well, huh?"

John takes a shaking breath. "She should have killed me," he rasps. "Why didn't she kill me?"

"Honestly, I've got no idea. I guess she probably didn't want Carmina to think it was her fault or something. I mean, she might've decided Kim and I know what we're doing, but..." Well, considering that Nick isn't too sure what he's doing, he doubts that's the case. All Nick knows is that he's glad he doesn't have to clean John's brain matter out of the wood. "Well, either way, you're still here."

"I am," John agrees, soundly deeply unsure about it. He takes a breath, then another, although neither seems to calm him down much. "I'll get back to work, I just need... I need a minute."

Nick had completely forgotten about the siding. He'd forgotten about the food on the fire, too, although it's bound to be fine, it's stew . He finds himself wanting to give John the rest of the night off, to... who knows, process what happened? Give him a chance to get his head on straight, to figure out what he might say the next time someone comes waving a gun at him? Nick's not sure what John's free time would even entail. Nick really hasn't been giving him any.

"Stop looking at me like that," John rasps. "I'm fine. I can still work."

Nick's not sure how to change his expression, but he can at least try not to openly pity the guy. "Fine, whatever. Look — take a break for now. I'll tell you when you can get back to it."

John nods, dropping his head back against the wall with a dull thud. He closes his eyes almost immediately, like he might just pass out then and there, and Nick knows that he's got to be finished for the day. Since Nick is the one timing the break, John won't notice if Nick lets him rest, and if he wants to complain, he can go eat a boot.

The stew is ready inside of an hour, although Nick had planned to let it sit for a while to thicken. Kim comes downstairs at some point with her cheeks blotchy red from tears, but she gives Nick an immediate smile to let him know everything is alright. She looks John's direction, but the guy hasn't moved for the last thirty minutes, so he isn't much to look at.

"Do you think we're doing the right thing?" Nick asks her, unable to help himself.

"I want to think so," Kim replies, rubbing his back gently. "We'll see."

Kim calls Carmina down for dinner, but who knows how long it will take before she actually drags herself downstairs. It's been a pretty heavy day, so Nick doesn't blame her for wanting to hide for a little while longer.

He doesn't know if it would be better or worse to let John sleep through dinner, but the guy did throw up half of his lunch, so he probably needs the food. Going to John's side, Nick almost kicks him awake, but that feels too aggressive after everything that's happened. Tomorrow, Nick can go back to being a dick to him. For now, he settles on nudging John's shoulder until he seems to come to.

"C'mon," Nick says, "It's time to eat."

Maybe John hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep. He looks around as though he's never seen the backyard before, not quite comprehending the hazy late-afternoon glow that showed up while he was out. "What happened?" he asks, visibly dreading the answer.

Nick can't help but roll his eyes. "You fell asleep," he says. "It's a real shocker. Told you, even a kid can do it."

John frowns. He looks towards the pile of siding, ready to calculate how much work he's missed, but Nick nudges him with his foot to distract him.

"I figure, if you sit here and don't move, maybe you can stay down here to eat. At least that way, Carmina will know you didn't get shot at on her account."

There's something in John's expression that implies he might want to argue the point, but he doesn't. He nods, remaining seated as Nick goes back to the fire. He doesn't move when Kim comes out of the house with four bowls and spoons, although he watches her like he's expecting a bomb to go off in her hand.

"Is he okay?" Kim asks Nick over the pot, keeping her voice low as she watches John out of the corner of her eye. "He's staying down here?"

"Bad idea?" Nick asks. "I can move him, I just figured..."

"No, it's okay." She pats his arm. "Good work with dinner."

Carmina comes downstairs with all the reluctance of a girl with a straight-D report card. She trudges down the porch steps with her head down, looking at her parents briefly through her hair before she swivels her unhappy gaze towards John.

"Hey, honey," Nick calls as she solemnly makes her way over to where John is sitting, trying in vain to reel her back. She ignores him, coming to a stop some five feet in front of John, well out of his reach by instinct alone. Nick can't see her face, but he can hear her teary voice.

"I'm sorry, John," she apologizes, her hands clasped in front of her and her head bowed like she might never look anyone in the eye again. Nick has to clamp down on the visceral reaction he has to his own daughter apologizing to John Seed , but he manages to choke it down even if it risks souring his dinner.

For his part, John looks more ready to bolt now than he did when Grace had been actively threatening him. His heels dig into the dirt as he presses himself against the wall, eyes darting as he calculates an escape route. When neither Nick nor Kim attempt to pull Carmina away, he flings a wild glance their way, but there's no avoiding the little girl's apology.

"It's okay," he tells her, his throat almost dry enough to strangle the words. Carmina must not seem convinced, because he continues uneasily, "You didn't do anything wrong."

Thankfully, Carmina accepts the sentiment readily. Nick doesn't know if he could handle her insisting he take her apology. "Dad," she says, apparently satisfied enough to rise out of her morose mood, "Are we going fishing tomorrow still?"

"I don't see why not."

Nick's glad for the subject change. It's fun to tease Carmina, who keeps insisting she's good at fishing even though she's never caught anything, and it keeps her distracted from John. John doesn't seem to mind being left alone to eat. He seems miles away from the house and the conversation, distracted by the darkening path that Grace had disappeared down. He eats slowly, waiting for something to happen. Probably waiting for Grace to come back and finish what Nick started months ago.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #fcnd #new dawn #john seed #nick rye #kim rye #far cry fanfic #my fic

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mayquita · 5 years

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Call Me (27/?) - The Final Countdown

A/N I still can't believe that four years have passed since I started this adventure. But I’m not only celebrating the fourth anniversary but also that with this chapter the story has reached 200k words!!! As always, my apologies for the delay, but to compensate you for the wait I bring you a long chapter. It was supposed to be shorter, but as usual, I got carried away a little. And here’s the result. I prefer not to reveal anything else about the chapter, but there’s a note at the end of the chapter with some explanations.

I’d like to express my gratitude to @saraswans and @onceuponaprincessworld for your advice and perpetual support and @chrissascorner for being my beta, thanks for helping me edit the whole thing. You three are the best. Thank you also to everyone else for your patience and for your support.

Summary: Emma loses her phone after a chase, but she finds a phone in a cafe just when she needs it most. Killian forgets his phone in a cafe when he is about to take a flight to Ireland. Killian makes a call to his own number hoping someone answers on the other end of the line. What will happen when Emma is the one answering the call?

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8Chapter 9 Chapter 10Chapter 11 Chapter 12Chapter 13 Chapter14Chapter 15 Chapter 16Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26

FF.net Ao3

Chapter 27 - The Final Countdown

I was born to love you With every single beat of my heart Yes, I was born to take care of you Every single day of my life

Saturday, September 30, 2017

Queen's song echoed in the kitchen while Killian prepared dinner, the lyrics and their meaning slipping inside his mind and spreading a warm sensation all over his body.

A thought crossed his mind as he hummed and wagged his hips to the rhythm of the music, causing a wide smile to bloom on his lips. There was no doubt that Queen has been part of the soundtrack of his life since he was just a child, accompanying him in his childhood, changing and adapting to the experiences he went through over the years.

The band and their songs had been his only companions on his darkest nights, first when Liam had been about to die and then after losing Milah, when he had entered that spiral where he wasn't able to do anything but drown his sorrows in sex and alcohol, get into fights —in an attempt to replace the heartache for the physical pain— and wallow in misery while listening to the saddest and most melancholy songs he could find.

It's a Hard Life, Too Much Love Will Kill You, Save Me, Somebody to Love... He had listened to these songs in a loop, locked in his bedroom, repeating the same routine day after day until Liam had taken the reins, as usual, coming to his rescue and offering him the possibility of a new beginning on the other side of the ocean.

Now, five years later, he kept marveling at how his life had changed and how that was also reflected in his particular life soundtrack. He felt blessed to have found Emma for many reasons, but the fact that they shared musical tastes added an incentive to their relationship.

The change had been subtle at first, but after confessing their feelings two weeks ago, they had begun to replace their old companions with songs full of feelings and positivity. Once again Queen put the background music to a stage of his life, and this time he expected this stage to last as much as possible, something like forever.

His smile widened when the first chords of the next song resonated in the room, causing him to continue humming, shaking his head to the rhythm of the music while cutting the fresh tomatoes that would serve to make sauce for the pasta they'd have for dinner.

I want it all, I want it all, I want it all And I want it now.

He wanted it all with Emma. He wanted to sleep every night with her in his arms and wake up every morning with her at his side. He wanted the whole package, the happily ever after. He wanted and wanted. He was aware that it was still too soon — they would celebrate three months together tomorrow —but after so many years surrounded by darkness he was eager to grab every little bit of happiness within his reach that would keep him in the light. And Emma was pure light, like a beacon that kept him on the right path.

He couldn't be prouder of her. After her meltdown two weeks ago when she fell injured, she had been able to overcome her own fears, to open up to him even more, to be vulnerable and express her feelings. She was more affectionate, her smiles were brighter, the spark of her gaze more intense, causing his love for her to grow more and more if that was even possible.

That subtle change in her had not only been reflected in her behavior towards him, but towards the people around her. Now she was more willing to spend time with her friends, was more communicative with her boss and even took the initiative when organizing plans with their friends' group.

It was as if after the accident, she had been injected with a renewed energy to the point that it was quite complicated to get her to be on sick leave for more than a couple of days. In the end, she had agreed to stay away from the office for a whole week and do desk work during the following week, but she would start working at full capacity next Monday, now that she seemed fully recovered.

The memory of her accident caused a chill to run through his spine, especially when he thought she would be exposed to those dangers again. He had no choice but to resign himself, though, and trust her and her abilities. At least she had understood that she now had someone always waiting for her at the end of the day, no matter what happened, so it seemed that she was more willing to stay out of unnecessary risks and return to him every day.

That was precisely what he was waiting, for Emma to come home. She had decided to accompany Belle and Mary Margaret to go shopping since, according to the ladies, they needed to renew their wardrobe with the arrival of autumn. It seemed obvious that she was having a great time since several hours later she hadn't yet returned. He had received a message a while ago, though, informing him that she would arrive in half an hour and that it was better for him to have some dinner ready because she was famished — Her words.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips when the next song began to sound. Somehow Emma had managed to include the bloody It's My Life on his playlist, alluding that, whether he liked it or not, that song was already part of the soundtrack of their relationship. She was right, of course, he admitted to himself as he shook his head.

He cast a sideways glance at the wall clock as he filled a saucepan with water to boil the pasta. The music and his thoughts had kept him so distracted that if he didn't hurry, Emma would arrive before dinner was ready.

Something caught his attention before he focused his eyes on the food preparation again. His gaze shifted slightly to the calendar near the clock. September 30th. A strange sensation settled in his stomach, his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to figure out why suddenly that date seemed somehow significant.

The realization came so unexpectedly that he felt as if he had been punched in the stomach while all the air left his lungs. Tomorrow would be October 1st, which meant that in just one month he would be flying to Ireland. For five bloody months.

He shouldn't feel so shocked, not considering that his trip to Ireland was something that had been hovering over their heads from the start. Hell, even the origin of their relationship had occurred when he was there.

He even had a continuous reminder in his usual talks with his family through video calls, in many of which Emma was present. Whenever his niece asked him when he would return he responded in the same way. Soon, sweetheart, soon.

The problem was that that soon seemed so far away at first, so, with the excuse that there was still a lot of time to worry about it, they had chosen to ignore it, not to let his possible departure affect their incipient relationship.

The date on the calendar now marked the beginning of the countdown on his inexorable path that would lead him to separate from Emma.

Just when he left the pot full of water on the counter, the player was silent for an instant before the next song began. He almost expected to hear the first chords of The Final Countdown, as a sign that the universe was laughing at him. Although that didn't happen, the next song did nothing to improve his sudden change of mood, rather the opposite.

Spread your wings and fly away Fly away far away Spread your little wings and fly away Fly away far away

Yes, definitely the universe was laughing at him.

A heavy sigh escaped between his lips as he ran a hand through his hair and swallowed hard in an attempt to drag the bitter sensation that threatened to crawl up to his throat. Unable to concentrate on food preparation, he started pacing the kitchen area driven by the growing uneasiness that had taken hold of him.

Fate was definitely cruel, at least to him. It seemed that all the stars had decided to line up tracing a net that would prevent him from fully enjoying his stay in his hometown, no matter what happened.

Before Emma, the bittersweet sensation and the constant pressure on his chest had always accompanied him a sign that, although he was going to visit his family, the ghosts of his past would always be present, stalking him and making sure to remind him of everything he had gotten and in contrast, everything he had lost.

Now, however, even though he had already left behind — or at least was on his way to do it —his old demons, that bittersweet feeling would still be present, since he couldn't wait to reunite with his family, but the feeling of leaving Emma behind was hard to assimilate.

Killian pressed his lips together to avoid groaning in frustration wondering if his heart would ever be at peace, if he would get the full happiness he thought he deserved, because it didn't matter that he was coming back, he was fully aware that during his stay in Ireland his thoughts would be consumed by a single person, Emma Swan.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he did not realize at first that a new song began to play. The sounds of the chorus finally reached his ears, bringing him back to reality.

Well, come on and let me know Should I stay or should I go? Should I stay or should I go now? Should I stay or should I go now?

An almost unstoppable impulse to throw the phone against the nearest wall seized him. Instead, he just pressed the stop button, leaving the room silent, the music was no longer appealing to him.

He was being overdramatic, he was aware of it, but he seemed unable to stop the spiral of feelings swirling inside him, while the lyrics of the previous song repeated in his mind in a loop. Should I stay or should I go?

Maybe it was a sign. Maybe he was worrying about nothing. Maybe it was best to stay this year in Boston, in this very flat, with Emma by his side. Why then did he feel that this was not the best solution? The mere idea of not seeing his nephews and his niece caused a twinge in his heart. He hadn't even made the decision yet and he already felt a sense of regret in the pit of his stomach. He not only had responsibilities back in Ireland but he longed to see both his family and his friends there.

He squeezed his eyes closed while rubbing his forehead in an attempt to relieve an incipient headache while wondering how he had come to this situation in an interval of only a few minutes.

He alone was to blame for not having dealt with the subject previously, but there was no point complaining now, He had to make a decision. At least before, he just had to worry about himself, but now that he was in a relationship he should also consider Emma's feelings. If there was something that had become clear after her accident two weeks ago it was that, despite her efforts to be more open, Emma still harbored trust and abandonment issues. His heart clenched at the thought of becoming one more on the list of people who left her behind.

A familiar sound caught his attention, pulling him out of the maelstrom of thoughts that crowded together in his head. The clink of the keys in the lock announced Emma's arrival, as if she had been invoked. Despite his inner turmoil, a soft smile tugged at his lips. She was home, finally. The need to get lost in her, to forget everything for a while, seized him, so he hurried to the front door to welcome her as she deserved — or rather as he needed.

Emma still felt strange with the weight of the keys in her hand. Not in a bad way but rather in an unusual sense. This wasn't the first time she had used the spare keys since Killian gave them to her a week ago, but she still had a hard time getting used to the fact that her boyfriend trusted her enough to allow her free access to him, literally. Perhaps the fact that no one had ever had that deference with her had something to do with that strange feeling.

Details like this made her wonder once in a while if they wouldn't be running too fast. They would be celebrating tomorrow that they had been together for (only) three months and Emma not only had the keys to his apartment — and he had hers —but spent half of her time there — most of her time, actually.

Those thoughts faded quickly, though. She just needed to open that door for a sense of peace to settle in her heart. She would be welcomed by the warmth that emanated from the interior of the apartment, by the aroma coming from the kitchen, and by protective arms that would embrace her, giving the moment of an aura of normalcy, a sense of rightness.

What Emma did not expect was to be received with such intensity the moment she crossed the door. She barely had time to close the door behind her when she was approached by Killian, who wrapped her in his strong arms while pushing her gently against the wooden surface, pressing his body against hers, his lips looking for hers as if he was hungry.

After the initial shock at the unexpected reception, she responded in kind, dropping the keys and the bags she was holding to place her arms around his neck while she returned the kiss with the same fervor.

Emma kept feeling amazed at how her body reacted whenever Killian kissed her. It was as if all her senses stopped working properly, leaving her in a state of daze where everything around her seemed to fade away. Well, that was not entirely true, it wasn't as if her senses stopped working but rather intensified, directing their focus to the sensations that flowed from her body as his lips devoured her.

This occasion was not going to be different of course, but before she fell completely intoxicated and succumbed to the sensations, a glimmer of lucidity crossed her clouded mind. There was something urgent, almost desperate, in the way Killian held her or in the intensity of his kiss. Making a great effort, Emma pushed back a little, her hands cupping his face as she searched his gaze.

"Hey, are you okay?"

His eyes were clearly darkened by lust but Emma also detected a glimpse of something else crossing his gaze. When Killian blinked that subtle shadow disappeared, though. Emma was distracted by his words, her eyes drifting to his lips. "Sure, love. I just missed you." A small smile appeared on his face but she didn't have time to appreciate it since his lips were on hers again.

He lifted her up with barely any effort causing her legs to circle his waist as he held her and began to walk towards his bedroom, his mouth never leaving hers.

Deep down, she suspected that something was not quite right, that his reaction seemed too intense, caused, rather than by pure desire, by something deeper. Whatever it was, Killian seemed to wake up suddenly, since, when they were halfway, he slowed his advance, loosening his grip until she rested her feet on the floor. He pushed back gently, his eyes searching for hers.

This time she did take her time to inspect his features. His brow was slightly furrowed, his cheeks flushed, his lips swollen from their brief make-out session. The shadow of his gaze reappeared more clearly, but again, Killian's hoarse voice caught her attention. "My apologies, love. I got a little carried away... I'm... sorry." He reached out to scratch behind his ear, as he averted his eyes, the blush of his cheeks becoming more pronounced. "Do you want this right now? Or maybe you prefer to just have dinner?" He asked, his voice dripping with uncertainty as he gestured toward the kitchen area.

Something was definitely not right with Killian. Emma tilted her head and studied him again through her narrowed eyes. The desire was evident, radiating from him in waves that reached her, sending electric shocks all over her body, blood running hot in her veins. She, of course, wanted this but she was also aware that Killian intended to use sex as an excuse to avoid, for a while, whatever it was that was troubling him.

She reached out to brush his cheek gently, pressing a little to force him to look at her. "I want this, believe me, but I also need to know what's wrong, Killian."

"Nothing." His lips curled up in an attempt at a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "It's been a long day without you and I... I just need you." The intensity of his gaze caused a shiver to run through her body. Emma was aware that his words hid a deeper meaning. The glimpse of pleading in his gaze contributed to that belief, causing her heart to tighten in her chest. He was saying without needing to express it out loud that he needed her to forget for a while. She couldn't refuse his request, not when she felt her skin burning, craving his touch and her lips tingling waiting for new kisses. She could do nothing but succumb to desire and hope that when the time came he would trust her enough to confess what was going through his head.

"Take me to bed, Killian." She whispered before fusing her lips with his, letting herself be carried away by the sensations in her attempt to offer Killian what he needed and get what her body craved.

Once in the shelter of his bedroom, they gave free rein to their passion so intensely that there was a moment when Emma felt slightly overwhelmed. She had learned from the experience of recent months that Killian was a generous person in bed, always trying to offer her all the pleasure before getting his own. This time it was no different in that regard, but his actions acquired a somewhat more desperate touch as he explored every inch of her skin reverently, recreating himself in every freckle, every corner as if he wanted to etch them in his memory.

Her old ghosts from the past made their appearance in the form of a sense of panic emerging inside her. His longing gaze did nothing to mitigate her growing unease. What if ... But then he muttered "I love you, Emma," her name sounding like a prayer and causing any worry to leave her body and her thoughts. He loved her and she loved him. Nothing else mattered.

From there she dedicated herself to enjoying one of the best sex sessions shared with Killian. He looked like a man on a mission, determined to extract every drop of pleasure from her body, playing it perfectly as an instrument, and paralyzing any coherent thought, her mind focused only on him and the intensity of her feelings towards him.

Both seemed insatiable that night. They only needed a few minutes to recover and started the second round. This time they made love more slowly sharing soft caresses, loving glances, and searing kisses while their bodies danced in a quiet tune until they reached sweet release.

Killian seemed calmer after their amorous activities. He lay on one side facing her, his fingers tracing delicate patterns up and down her back. His lips drew the first genuine smile of the night while his gaze seemed clearer, more serene, no trace of his previous agitated expression.

Emma was tempted to interrogate him, but she didn't want to risk clouding his mood again. She felt so sated and relieved to see that Killian had managed to relax that she thought it would be better if she left the interrogation for the next day. Even so, she didn't resist addressing him subtly.

"You know I'm here, whenever you feel ready to talk, okay?" She whispered as she gently stroked his hair at the back of his neck.

"Aye Swan. I know." His lips brushed hers for a moment before looking back into her eyes with a significant expression. "Tomorrow. I promise."

"Good." She snuggled against him, feeling a protective arm wrapping her. "I love you." She muttered while resting her head on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her ear.

"I love you, too. More than anything."

The last thought that crossed her mind before succumbing to sleep was that those words hid an even deeper meaning than it seemed. Something told her that she would soon find it out.

Sunday, October 1, 2017

The sun had not yet risen when Emma woke up the next morning, finding the room covered by gloom and a warm body behind her. After letting out a yawn, she cracked an eye open to check the time on the bedside clock. Too early.

Emma snuggled into Killian, feeling his strong arm on her waist and his chest against her bare back, not an inch of space between the two bodies. Although she couldn't see his face in that position, his soft breathing indicated that he was still sound asleep.

She felt like she was in a protective cocoon, all around her inviting her to go back to sleep. Just when her eyelids become heavy, her body decided to betray her, bringing her back to the world of consciousness. Both her bladder and her stomach protested due to the excessive hours of inactivity, making it impossible for her to fall asleep again.

In spite of the fact that her mind was still partly cloudy, some flashes of the activities from the previous night began to appear, causing her cheeks to blush. Emma also vaguely remembered that she hadn't been able to eat any food, since they had started their coupling as soon as she arrived home, just as her stomach was reminding her with a very loud rumble.

It was the memory of what happened a few hours earlier that led her to turn around carefully so as not to wake him up, with the intention of observing his features once her sight had become accustomed to the semi-darkness that surrounded them. Her heart fluttered as she checked his serene expression, only a faint wrinkle between his brows as an indication of his previous agitation.

She had no choice but to attend to her physiological needs, but, since it was Sunday, she wouldn't wake Killian. Not yet. After placing a feather kiss on his forehead, she got up and went to the closet, to the section that had already been reserved for her, and grabbed a shirt and panties, then headed to the bathroom with stealthy steps, so as not to wake the sleeping handsome.

Her stomach did a little somersault when her eyes landed on the two toothbrushes resting together on the bathroom shelf. She still had a hard time getting used to seeing her belongings occupying a space in his apartment. In other circumstances, she would have felt a torrent of panic and an urge to run. Too fast, she would have thought. That hadn't happened with Killian, though. In fact, since the first time she was in his apartment, she felt that sense of belonging, that she was in the right place.

That feeling had increased to the point that she was comfortable enough to have her own section in his closet or even she had now taken over one of the bathroom shelves. It was a matter of practicality after all. If she spent several nights a week there, it was logical that she had at least her toothbrush and a comb. And her favorite conditioner. And a bathrobe. Even a dryer. A girl likes to have her allies around, right?

After relieving her bladder, and refreshing herself a little — she had ended up so exhausted after their passionate lovemaking session that she had not been able to bring herself to remove her makeup —she went to the kitchen, her stomach growls getting louder and louder.

As she crossed the living room Emma noticed the various bags scattered on the floor while the memory of Killian's reception yesterday came to her memory, causing her knees to weaken and a warm sensation running through her veins. What an intense night!

Once in the kitchen, she found a similar scenario. There was a pot full of water on the counter, and the ingredients of what appeared to be the beginnings of a tomato sauce forgotten on the cutting board. It was like watching a scene frozen in time, as if someone, Killian in this case, had felt the urge to suddenly stop what he was doing.

Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, a sense of apprehension settling low in her stomach as she wondered what could have happened. It wasn't like him, someone usually quite tidy, to leave the kitchen in that state. Could he have had one of his panic attacks? At least he had had the good sense to turn off the stove because otherwise, the apartment would have become fire fodder while they created another type of fire in the bedroom.

Emma shook her head to try to get rid of that disturbing feeling. Killian had promised to tell her what had happened, so she had no choice but to wait. After letting out a heavy sigh, she turned on the coffee maker and began to clean the kitchen, continuing with the mess of the living room.

A few minutes later, the delicious smell of freshly brewed coffee reached her nostrils, so after finishing cleaning everything, she went back into the kitchen, prepared a giant mug of coffee and looked for something to eat in the cabinet. Her lips drew a smile of satisfaction when she found the poptarts that Killian kept just for her.

The sunlight was already beginning to seep through the windows, but since it was still early, she needed to find some entertainment while waiting for Killian to wake up. If it wasn't because they were already in October and the temperatures had dropped considerably, she would have been tempted to go up to the rooftop, since it was one of her favorite places. Instead, she grabbed Killian's laptop, the poptarts, and the coffee mug and settled on the couch, ready to do some work.

In recent weeks, she had been feeling more and more involved in Killian's business, especially in the social media section. She could spend hours working on the laptop or with her phone, either managing the website of the business that had improved considerably thanks to her magic — Killian's words — or acting as a kind of community manager running all social media to try to attract more customers, especially now that the peak season was over, but several guided tours and excursions were still available.

Belle had pointed out, on more than one occasion, that Emma worked almost more than herself and that she should be rewarded by being turned into a proper employee with her consequent salary, something Killian agreed with, but she always rejected it. She did not consider what she was doing as a job but as a way to put her knowledge to good use, something that brought her full satisfaction, increasing her self-confidence.

She soon got down to work, losing track of time as usual. Just when she was focused, an unexpected sound coming from the laptop startled her to the point that she almost dropped the device. Liam was calling.

Her eyebrows furrowed while looking at the time on the clock. Wasn't it a bit early for a video call on Sunday? Maybe it was something important. Before answering though, she cleared her throat and straightened her back, placing the laptop on her lap. She didn't mind talking to Liam at all, but she couldn't help her stomach tightening into knots in anticipation before starting a call with Liam, especially if Killian wasn't present. After taking a deep breath, she pressed the answer button while forcing her lips to twist into a smile to mask her nervousness.

The slightly blurred image of Liam appeared immediately on the screen. It was fun, in a way, to watch as his expression transformed several times over the course of just a few seconds. He went from sporting a radiant smile, to changing his expression to one of confusion when he realized that it was she who was answering to finally turn into an expression of regret, probably realizing that it was Sunday, what meant that, obviously, Killian was still sleeping.

"Good morning, lass." The smile returned to his lips, but then his face again showed a worried expression. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

And just like that, all the nerves disappeared and Emma could relax. In these three months, she had been able to learn a lot about the Jones family and she already knew that Liam lived in a state of almost constant concern and had a tendency to overanalyze everything. It was a little exasperating, at first, hence her initial nerves before starting a conversation with him, but deep down she had taken a certain fondness for his behavior.

"Nope." She answered with a dismissive wave of her hand. "But your brother, you know, he's still navigating in the world of dreams."

He chuckled quietly and rubbed his eyes with one hand, as if he wanted to get rid of the accumulated fatigue, before addressing her again. "It's Sunday, I know. Forgive me, love, I have a lot on my mind lately."

"It's okay, I'd been awake for a while." She offered him a cordial smile before continuing. "How are all of you guys over there? How are the kids?"

"All good, but the beginning of the school year is driving me crazy. September has been a very long month." He certainly looked tired, even though it was barely lunchtime there. "Anyway, now it seems that we have all adapted back to the routine, so I hope everything will flow better from now on. But enough talk about me." He waved his hand in front of the screen, his lips drawing a soft smile. "How are you, lass? Is your shoulder fully recovered?"

"Everything's fine." She raised her arm and rolled her shoulder to prove her point. "I'm returning to work tomorrow at full capacity." Emma suppressed the urge to roll her eyes when Liam's brow frowned slightly, wearing the same expression as his brother when he tried not to show his concern. They were so alike that sometimes it became a bit overwhelming.

From there they held a lively talk on various topics, the kids, her new case or the end of the peak season. Despite those nerves of anticipation that always appeared when she started talking to Liam, a warm sensation seized her whenever they talked, as she felt increasingly comfortable and integrated with the Jones family, as if she was part of them too.

What Emma did not expect was that the conversation would take such an unexpected turn.

"Oh god, I almost forgot the real reason for my call." He hit his forehead with the palm of his hand as he shook his head. "See? These children of mine cause me to lose neurons by leaps and bounds." Emma couldn't help a laugh bubbling in her throat at Liam's overdramatic attitude, something he also shared with his brother. "Anyway... there it goes before I forget it again. Do you know if Killian has already bought the tickets?"

"Tickets? What tickets?" She asked tentatively. She honestly had no idea what he was talking about, but that didn't prevent a strange sensation from settling in the pit of her stomach, causing her body to go suddenly tense. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

"The plane tickets to travel to Ireland, of course."

Her stomach dropped to her toes while her smile faltered the moment her brain processed Liam's words and their implications. "There's only one month left and if he doesn't hurry the tickets will cost him an arm and a leg. As always."

Her eyes drifted for a moment as she took a deep breath in an attempt to pull herself together. He's leaving. Emma shook away that thought and pressed her lips together forcing a neutral expression before responding. "No, he hasn't bought them yet. I'll tell him later." She managed to reply in a carefree enough tone, or so she expected.

Although Liam continued speaking, Emma felt unable to process what he said, her mind occupied with other concerns. One month left. How had time passed so fast? Emma shouldn't be surprised, though. She knew, even before they started dating, that that was his life, that he spent half the year here in Boston and the other half back in Ireland. She knew that, they were both aware, but they had decided to live their relationship in the present without worrying about what might happen in the future. Also, back in July, November seemed so far away.

"Emma, are you alright?"

Liam's words brought her back to reality. Emma swallowed hard hoping to drag her unease down as she curled her lips up. In no way was she going to put more worries on his shoulders. "Yeah. I got distracted for a moment, thinking there is only one month left and we still have to finish some projects for The Jolly Cruises."

Luckily Liam didn't seem to notice her inner turmoil, as he smiled back at her, his face showing an expression of affection that caused her heart to calm down for a while. "That brother of mine has managed to involve you in his business, hasn't he?" He rolled his eyes, as his smile widened before continuing speaking without waiting for an answer. "You're doing an amazing job, by the way."

His compliment had an immediate effect on her, causing her cheeks to blush, a shy smile pulling at her lips. "Thank you. I was working right now on it while Killian sleeps."

"Oh, sorry for the interruption, lass. I'll let you get back to it, then." The conversation did not end there, though, since suddenly Liam's eyebrows arched and his eyes widened as if he were remembering something. "By the way, when Killian decides to buy his tickets you could take the opportunity to buy yours too."

"Mine?" What was he talking about?

"Well, considering that Killian will spend Christmas here, we assumed that you would come too." A warm sensation began to run through her veins as her heart swelled in her chest when she heard him. Both the expression of affection that appeared on his face and the spark of hope in his gaze only increased that feeling especially when she processed the true meaning of Liam's words.

"Eh..." She trailed off while swallowing hard to try to drag down the lump in her throat. Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times but she was unable to make any sound. It was like she was so busy trying to curb the intense emotion that threatened to overwhelm her that her brain seemed unable to form coherent words.

She had never been invited to Christmas celebrations. Ever. She had practically ignored these holidays by keeping busy or locked in her apartment so as not to witness the happiness of others. She hadn't even considered that possibility when she started dating Killian so she didn't know how to handle so many emotions dancing inside her.

"You have to come, Emma. We will all be here." Emma had been so distracted for a moment that she didn't realize that Elsa had appeared on the screen next to her husband. Her expression was gentle, as always, but her slightly maternal tone, as if he were addressing one of her children, had the desired effect, as Emma managed to get out of her trance. "Christmas at the Jones' house is always special. It has been some time since we brought someone new so I'm sure that with you here it will be even more special."

She was totally doing it. Damn it, she deserved for once a good thing to happen in her life. It seemed such good things had not stopped happening since she had lost her phone. Now that her life seemed to have taken the right path she wasn't willing to lose more opportunities to be happy. And if she had to cross the ocean for the first time in her life to spend Christmas with her boyfriend and his family, nothing and nobody could stop her.

"Okay." She breathed out. "I guess I can use a couple of weeks of vacation since I’ve never taken one." She continued in a more firm tone while the corners of her lips rose slightly drawing a timid smile.

"That's amazing, Emma!" Elsa almost yelled, her voice dripping with excitement. "I can't wait to see you in person and finally hug you."

"Wait for the children to hear the news." Liam added, the wide smile on his face matching his wife's and probably also her own.

They continued talking animatedly for the next few minutes. There was something in common in all the members of this family, no doubt, that was their ability to spread their genuine enthusiasm to others. They got her to forget for a while about the implications of Killian's departure by having her focus instead on her own journey.

Only when she finished the call after saying goodbye and promising them that she would talk to Killian to buy the tickets did she realize that the smile hadn't disappeared from her face since they had begun planning her visit.

Her inner calm did not last long, though. The moment the living room fell silent again, the image of Killian made an appearance, causing her smile to fade and a feeling of unease to wash over her.

He's leaving. He's leaving. He's leaving.

After letting out a deep exhalation she set the laptop on the coffee table and laid back onto the couch, with her head on the arm while she massaged her temples in an attempt to eliminate those thoughts.

He wasn't leaving. He would only travel for a few months and then he would come back to her. She was sure of it, but that didn't stop her selfish side from making an appearance. He could always choose to stay. They both could travel a couple of weeks during Christmas and come home together.

No. That was not an option. She may have lived the last years selfishly, looking only for herself because she had no one to lean on, no one to fight for. That stage of her life had been left behind, though. The love she felt for him was so intense that his happiness had become one of her goals in life, because if he was happy she would be too. And she was fully aware that she didn't have the exclusivity of Killian's happiness. She could not take him away from his other great source in that regard, his beloved family.

The sound of footsteps coming from the hall drew her attention, so Emma raised her head slightly, directing her gaze in that direction. Killian appeared at that moment in her sight, as if he had been invoked.

He was... he was many things, but at that moment she could only think that her boyfriend appeared gorgeous in his sleepy state. Emma sat up a little leaning on her elbows to delight in the glorious image in front of her. His eyes were still partially closed giving him an adorable drowsy expression and his hair was completely disheveled. He was shirtless, of course —she wasn't going to complain at all, his bare torso was certainly a vision.

His lips moved subtly up when his eyes fell on her. "Morning." He mumbled in an almost intelligible tone and then, without giving her time to react, he laid on her, pressing his body against hers and burying his face between her breasts.

Emma couldn't help smiling while her hand brushed his hair. If there was something she had learned since the very beginning, it was that Killian despised having to get up early on Sundays. Whenever he had to get up early that specific day he ended up dragging an aura of moodiness for the next few hours. Today was still early for his standards.

"If you wanted to continue sleeping you could simply have stayed in bed."

"Nonsense. This mattress is much more comfortable." He muttered without bothering to move his head, his low voice muffled by her own body sending electric waves all over her skin. "Not to mention the pillow, magnificent." He raised his head, his piercing blue eyes fixed on hers and a smirk blooming on his lips. He then returned to his original position while making a satisfying sound as he settled back against her chest.

So he wasn't in a bad mood today, that was good. They continued in that position for a while, he emitting soft moans as she massaged his scalp and she feeling his warm breath on her skin.

There was something special in these little moments, where everything seemed to be calm and they remained in their own bubble of bliss, both together, enjoying each other, with nothing that clouded their happiness. Emma closed her eyes as she tried to etch this scene in her mind. She decided right at that moment that she was going to treasure as many more moments like this as possible, since they would be her companions when Killian was away, as a reminder that what she had experienced wasn't a dream, and also as a promise of future. They would share these experiences together again.

"Who were you talking to before?" Killian's hoarse voice brought her back to reality.

"It was Liam. The poor guy is still a bit disoriented with the schedule after the start of school." She bit her lower lip, doubting whether it was a good idea to explain the true reason for his call or not. At some point they would have to address the issue. Why not right now? After taking a deep breath, she kept talking. "He wanted to know if you had already bought the plane tickets."

His body tensed above her, while she held her breath waiting for his next reaction. He remained in the same position for a few seconds while her heart pounded so hard that Emma was sure he would be feeling it.

After a moment that became eternal, he let out a heavy exhalation before pulling up and sitting next to her. Without looking at her, he dragged a hand down his face and rubbed at his scruff.

Emma also sat up, crossing her legs in front of her, while carefully watching all of his reactions. "About that..." His voice trailed off as if he was deciding what to say next. He nodded in an almost imperceptible movement that didn't go unnoticed by Emma and then he looked into her eyes, the ghost of a smile adorning his face. "I've been thinking that maybe this year is better if I stay here."

Her eyes widened and her breath hitched as she tried to process the meaning of his words. His gaze remained fixed on hers, those piercing blue eyes capable of reaching her very soul. He was choosing her. He had made a decision. He had chosen her over everything — or rather everyone —else.

"I mean. Maybe I can travel for Christmas, since I wouldn't like to miss the holidays there. Or maybe I can arrange a couple of trips in alternate months. I don't know..." He was rambling, his hand reaching to scratch behind his ear in that characteristic gesture of his, but then, his eyes bore into hers while his features turned into a solemn expression. "I just know that I don't want to be separated from you for five bloody months."

Everything made sense at that moment. She realized what he had gone through the night before, his struggle as he tried to decide what he should do. She also understood how after making love, he seemed much calmer, his expression more serene, as if that inner struggle had ended with a clear winner. He chose her. I love you, too. More than anything.

She felt a lump in her throat, a surge of emotions rising in her chest as the back of her eyes began to sting. She allowed herself a few more seconds to remain in that sensation as if she were floating. Then, she squeezed her eyes to stop the incipient tears as she lightly shook her head in an attempt to not let herself be seized by emotions and to act rationally.

For once in her life, someone had chosen her, regardless of anything or anyone. She already had that, she could already treasure it as something precious. But she couldn't allow him to make that decision, at least not without first expressing what she felt.

"No." The word came out of her mouth before she even had time to process it.

"No?" His voice dripped with confusion as his brows furrowed.

She felt the irresistible urge to touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin under her fingertips, to make that wrinkle between his eyebrows disappear. She did not resist the impulse this time, so without thinking twice, she got up and sat astride him, her hands cupping his face.

"I appreciate your choice. You don't have any idea of what it means to me." The smile that blossomed on his lips almost made her melt into a puddle. She had to blink a few times to break the spell and be able to continue. "But I'm also sure that I won't be the cause of you being separated from your family."

He made an attempt to reply, but she brought her index finger to his lips and tapped them lightly. In response, he pressed a gentle kiss on her finger and remained silent. This was a decisive moment in her life. She was aware that by making this decision, she was ignoring her selfish side, the one who had helped her survive all these years ago. She knew she was taking a leap of faith, but she was also sure that no matter what, Killian would always come to her. After taking a deep breath, she continued talking.

"You should go. Your family loves you, they're looking forward to your return. Your niece asks every day when you're going back home. Besides you also have responsibilities there. We... We will figure out what to do next year, with more time to organize."

Both remained silent for a few seconds, while she watched as endless emotions crossed his gaze, the blue in his eyes more intense than ever. She felt his hands placed on both sides of her waist while caressing her skin under her shirt in a rather distracting movement. It was Killian who broke the silence, his hands never leaving her body.

"Next year... I like how it sounds."

It sounds like a promise. Like a future.

“So…”

He tilted his head and she mirrored him, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He then threw back his head and let out a deep sigh before his eyes fell on hers again. The intense flash of his gaze was a clear indication that he had finally made his decision. "Okay... I'll go with one condition."

This time it was she who looked at him in confusion. “What condition?”

"That you travel to spend Christmas with us."

She didn't even have time to explain, since Killian suddenly seemed extremely motivated, any inner struggle forgotten to focus on a new goal. "You can't turn it down, Swan. I'm sure Graham won't deny you a couple of weeks of vacation." The excitement radiating from his body was such that Emma did not dare to try to interrupt him again. "Think of it as a way to fulfill your dreams. You can finally travel to Europe and you can also live, even temporarily, near the sea. It's a perfect plan, love."

"Okay, I accept." She said simply while shrugging her shoulders in a nonchalant gesture. She pressed her lips together to stop the laughter that had begun to bubble in her throat.

"You do? Just like that, without objections?"

"I mean. You could have saved your speech. Very convincing, by the way. The truth is that I had already accepted before."

"Before?"

This time Emma couldn't help bursting out laughing. It was as if Killian was living in a state of permanent confusion since they had begun this conversation.

"What is so funny?" He asked in an amused voice.

"You keep asking with an expression of confusion like that." Emma made an attempt to imitate his expression with her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes narrowed, causing him to chuckle.

The liberating laugh subsided after a few seconds although Emma could still feel his vibrant body under her touch.

"That's because I can't figure you out today, Swan. You keep surprising me." The sound of his velvety voice and the tone full of devotion did something in her insides. "But you never answered my question, love."

"It was your brother." She admitted. "He and Elsa convinced me to travel and I accepted."

"So is it true? Are you going to travel to Ireland?" She watched his expression of disbelief, his eyes flickering quickly between hers, as if he still didn't believe it.

She nodded with a slight movement of her head, while her lips curled in what she hoped was a reassuring smile, her hand gently brushed his cheek.

The expression on his face became one of pure happiness, his sparkling gaze the last thing she saw before he pushed her against him and kissed her hard.

The last coherent thought that crossed her mind before getting lost in the incredible feeling of being kissed by Killian Jones, was the somewhat startling idea of flying for the first time over the ocean. She better get used to the idea of making the trip, because there would be nothing to stop her from flying to Killian and his family.

The countdown began. But instead of counting the days left for Killian to leave, she decided to focus on the days left to fulfill her dreams. She couldn’t wait to discover Europe, but what she was looking forward to the most was being able to enjoy the Christmas spirit for the first time, something that had been denied to her before but now, thanks to Killian, would finally come true.

Before you yell at me, Killian leaving to Ireland was something planned from the beginning, but hey, Emma is going to travel too and I have plans for them there. They will only be separated during one chapter, I promise (maybe I shouldn't, given my tendency to split chapters, but that's my plan anyway)

Thanks for reading :)

@rouhn @couldnthandleit @teamhook @malec4everr@kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke @suwya @thisonesatellite @lfh1962 @let-it-raines

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs au #call me #cs au ff #mayquita writes #my cs writings

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cypher2 · 5 years

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Andonovski says that the framework for this season was laid out last autumn, as he and owner Bill Predmore attempted to chart the course of how the upcoming season would go.

“Our year started, for (Reign FC majority owner and president) Bill Predmore and myself, last November,” Andonovski said. “We had 11 different lineup predictions that covered things like pre-World Cup, during the World Cup, after the World Cup, with Jess Fishlock coming back from France, without her, with different players coming in and out. We projected 10 or 11 different lineups. Bill was instrumental in all of this. He helped me with the preparation and made a lot of things happen behind the scenes. I had to do a lot on the field to manage all of those players and incorporate them, but I think the most important thing is the preparation before the season even started.”

The roster was bolstered with a mixture of newcomers, like Shea Groom and NAIA standout Bethany Balcer, and returning veterans like captain Lauren Barnes and midfielder Allie Long.

The club itself was in for a big change. After half a decade at Seattle’s Memorial Stadium, the club was informed that the venue was no longer suitable to host NWSL home games. Instead, Reign FC found a new home in Tacoma’s Cheney Stadium. The response to the move was incredible – fans in the South Sound helped Reign FC set new attendance records in 2019, including an increase of 1,389 on average per match from 2018.

Not all of the changes went over as smoothly, however.

The club sent nine players to the World Cup to represent seven different countries. Six more players would suffer season-ending injuries, while others were waylaid by shorter term injuries.

To boot, the club stumbled out of the starting gate, opening the year 0-1-3 after failing to convert a late penalty in its season-opener against Houston and settling for a 1-1 draw against Orlando in its first match in Tacoma.

“Historically, if you look at teams that I’ve managed, I would say with the exception of last season, my teams have started slow and then started picking things up toward the middle of the season,” Andonovski said. “That’s something that I’m going to have to look at myself and see if it’s something I’m doing. Am I giving too many formations or trying to add too much in a short period of time? Maybe it takes a little time for things to click and once they do things go well.”

More players arrived in time for things to start clicking, even as a large chunk of the team departed to chase glory with their national teams at the World Cup in France. Among them was forward Ifeoma Onumonu, signed as a National Team Replacement Player just six days after being waived by the Portland Thorns.

For Onumonu, the spirit of the squad hadn’t dampened, despite the early sluggishness.

“Coming into this club, I was going through my own type of challenges,” Onumonu said. “That did help when I did come and join Reign FC. It was like I’d been through some things and the club had been as well. It helped with the camaraderie. It was an experience where even though the club was going through a hard streak, it was still very positive.”

The hard streak ended quickly. The club recorded its first win of the season against Sky Blue FC on May 18 and went on to win four of its next six matches, rising from seventh in the league table all the way to first following a July 5 road win against rivals Portland Thorns FC. The stretch also saw Onumonu record her first NWSL goal in a win over Utah on June 28, the same day that she was signed to the club’s supplemental roster.

“It was really special,” Onumonu said of her goal. “I had been waiting for a goal for two years now, so it was nice to finally get it. It was an important win as well. On any given day in this league, a team can pull out a win against anyone else. We knew that and we used it to our advantage. I thought we had a lot of doubters, so it felt good to prove them wrong. In that time we were going through quite a bit of injuries, which is always tough. It didn’t stop from there. It felt really good to score and contribute to that success we had during that run.”

The return of Fishlock provided a big boost to the club in the early summer. The midfielder returned from her loan to Olympique Lyon in France and knocked in two game-winners for Reign FC. Fishlock’s immediate impact on the squad led to her being named the NWSL Player of the Month for June before being sidelined with a season-ending ACL tear.

Just when Reign FC looked to be getting on a roll, more obstacles presented themselves.

June gave way to a grueling July. With two road matches against North Carolina and tough home losses to Utah and Chicago, Reign FC endured a 2-4-1 stretch that dropped them into fifth place entering the final six matches of the season.

“The fact that we have two of those teams (from that stretch) in the final says a lot about the quality of the teams that we were facing,” Andonovski said. “Playing North Carolina twice on the road didn’t make it any easier, but we didn’t have a choice, we had to prepare as best as we could. One thing that made it easier was that even when things were not going well, there was nothing negative about it. We used every single game as a learning opportunity to get better, regardless of the result. We kept moving forward, we kept getting better and the results were coming as the season was going by.”

With six games to play, Andonovski challenged his team to push for a playoff spot:

“Going into the last stretch of games, Vlatko said ‘we’ve made mistakes in this portion of the season and now we’re on to the last quarter of the year,’” Onumonu said. “’We’re going to have to win the majority of games to make the playoffs.’ We had a mini-season where everything that happened prior to this last stretch of six matches didn’t matter anymore. It was about winning or getting points and moving on. We erased all that we had done because it was over and it didn’t matter. Our objective was to make the playoffs.”

Reign FC fought its way to a 3-1-2 finish over the final six matches, thanks in large part to an Onumonu equalizer at the death of a 2-2 draw against Washington on September 14. Jodie Taylor also notched a late game-winner against Utah in a September 25 match that had to be pushed back a week due to a waterlogged pitch at Cheney Stadium. With a win over Portland in the final home match of the season on September 29, Reign FC clinched its second consecutive playoff berth under Andonovski.

Despite all the bumps and disruptions that the season’s path had taken, Reign FC was playoff bound once more.

“The struggle and the tough times we went through in the first 18 games helped us prepare for the last six games,” Andonovski said. “We did decide that this was a little mini-season that we felt we had to win or finish well, which I think we accomplished, we were talking about how this mini season has to be a reflection of the whole season. It has to be a true picture of who we are: warriors, fighters who are intense in their goals. That helped us take on those games the way we did.”

Reign FC’s semifinal match against NWSL Shield-winners North Carolina was a game of grit and determination. When the Courage scored a go-ahead goal on a penalty kick in the 88th minute and had dominated possession all match long, Reign FC looked like they would be unable to mount a response.

Onumonu changed that. In the third minute of second-half stoppage time, the forward received a ball from Celia Jiménez Delgado and fired a shot past Stephanie Labbe, forcing extra time.

“I feel like that moment summed up our season,” Onumonu said. “Fight to the end. That’s how I took it. I was really thankful for that goal because I know how much it meant to still have a chance and still be in it. To be able to score in that moment was special. North Carolina is a good team and has been for years, but we’re not going to go down without a fight. The end result wasn’t what we wanted, but this game is hard, it’s tough. Being able to keep us in there for as long as possible was so special.”

Reign FC came up short in extra time, but the club had gone down swinging.

“I’m very proud of the players,” Andonovski said. “Every single one of them. The way they approached the game was tremendous. To be able to go to North Carolina, against that team and an incredible coach in Paul Riley and battle all the way until the last second and tie the game 1-1? It’s incredible. I’m very proud of them. Unfortunately, in the last 30 minutes we didn’t have enough in us to make a miracle happen. We didn’t have enough to be able to match North Carolina and their quality.”

Onumonu’s final strike was emblematic of Reign FC’s spirit, but her path over the course of the season, like so many of her teammates, mirrored the club’s year.

“When I look at it, I would agree that Ifeoma’s season is how our season looked,” Andonovski said. “But it’s also Rosie (White’s) season. It’s Balcer’s season. It’s Celia’s season. Young players came in who were unknown or had in some ways been rejected that wanted to make a name for themselves and prove people wrong. They just needed an opportunity and in the end they did it. It was similar for our club. I don’t want to say that we were an unknown, but people didn’t believe in us. We were rejected to some extent and we just needed a platform and a chance to prove people wrong and in the end we did.”

For Onumonu, that drive and determination were the major lesson from 2019.

“I would say the biggest lesson is to be resilient,” Onumonu said. “I think how I started out my season, where I started with Portland and then everything with Reign FC has been a challenge. You have where you expect to be, then you have to go somewhere else. You switch and all your emotional attachment with a team has to change. Now, you have to fight for your new club. It made me grateful for the club, honestly. I’m very thankful for the club. As a player, it taught me that one person’s opinion of you does not define you and I think that’s something that this season has taught me.”

For Andonovski, the year was proof that no obstacle is insurmountable.

“If there’s one thing that I’ve learned this season, it’s that there is always a way to be successful,” Andonovski said. “If that way doesn’t work, there is always another way.”

#reign fc #seattle reign fc #seattle reign #vlatko andonovski #ifeoma onumonu #nwsl #woso #listen the fact that a handful of our layers could be considered for team mvp #bc they all truly had standout seasons #iffy balcer murphy barnes esp #and bev earning it bc shes a rock as always #anyways im just proud of all of them #celia theresa #all of them have stories #theres so many inspiring good narratives that these players have built on this season #it made me hopeful again

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hollow-sortilege-blog · 5 years

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☆ﾟ*・ﾟWoah is that NATHAN MEYER ? I’ve heard they’re a witch ( Dark ) originally from North Carolina. They came here because of the death of their father and they’ve been here for one year. As a 24 year-old, I’m sure they’re skilled. Someone told me they’re disinterested and scrutinizing but I think they’re calm and adaptive. I can’t help but think of wispy cigarette smoke, photos faded at the edges and half burnt letters never sent when I look at them.

[Intro] [Wanted Connections] [Blackwater Coven]

[History]

Childhood was chaos for Nathan. The first years of it were spent tucked away within the confines of his mother’s coven; a strange mix of hedge witches and those who practiced far bloodier dark arts in the shadowy cover of the deep Appalachian mountains. There eeriness of the place, of the people, was something that ingrained itself into Nathan himself, his eccentric nature is grounded in the oddity of the world he was born into. And within it his mother and father were always at war with each other, he really has no idea how they managed to accomplish having three children before his mother disappeared entirely from his life and took his younger sister with her. Truthfully he was raised more by his grandmother, a strange old woman with an uneasy amount of secrets and conviction that Nathan was certainly more like his mother than the rest of the Meyers’ brood.

Shortly after his mother left the family his father also decided he wanted nothing more to do with the coven as he had always been an outsider to it for marrying into the family. A witch whose power was cultivated in turning luck in his favor he settled himself and the boys on the west coast. It was a good fit for him and Nathan’s older brother, the family certainly found fortune there through gambling. Life became excess, wanting for nothing, and while they thrived, somehow, Nathan didn’t. His disinterest remained, gradually become a sort of venom between himself and his father until he was constantly earning the vicious reprimand and anger of the man. Nothing felt right to him, or real, not the world he’d left behind nor the one he had come to live in where magic was hidden away and life revolved around status he found incredibly bland.

The life of a rich socialite had some benefits, true, but nothing that ever lasted out long in stirring Nathan’s interest. With his father’s temper growing shorter as the years passed harsh words became the norm and he distanced himself more and more. With his older brother already absent much of the time in chasing his own vices there was no more buffer from the battlefield that was home. Nathan kept himself entertained with his camera, the only real grounding point in his life, with distraction and ghosted in around expectations until the day his father fell ill. As life became an endless blur of medical terms and treatments that always fell short of working Nathan skirted the edges while the best doctors and nurses could buy failed. It was a perplexing thing to witness, the man who had been the childhood monster in his own life wasting away. Something about it felt almost like vindication. His efforts to care for the man were an endless round of accusations, it seemed the bad blood was meant to carry until the very end and finally Nathan simply left, unable to stomach being there anymore.

His early twenties found Nathan wandering, gravitating back towards the hills and the secrets held there. His grandmother welcomed him back warmly and even if he didn’t feel as though he belonged in that place anymore it was a needed escape. Her lessons were perplexing, at times seemingly nonsensical, but there was a truth to them that dug under his skin. Magic, she insisted, was a great deal of intention and power came from places that were not always sound. Some of the secrets she told him were straight out of a nightmare, unfair and chilly.

Nathan still isn’t sure if his own hatred of his father was partly to blame for the illness that slowly killed the man, surely it couldn’t have been. But that was something of a turning point for him with the news that he had finally died, the funeral, the wall that had come between himself and his brother over his absence in the final months of their father’s illness, so much had dissolved around him.

When he left that time it was with no intention of coming back, the nagging knowledge shared by his grandmother tormenting him and lost in the idea that maybe he would find what he needed.

Headcanons

[Personal]

Nathan is a creature of vices, he practically has an ever-changing list of them. Some of the constants tend to be his terrible habit of chain smoking, his interest in bad horror movies and watching them all night rather than sleeping, spending more time with his camera than he does actual people, and collecting the sort of oddities that most people consider macabre or bizarre. He is entirely unaffected by how other people view his habits, unless they purposely push his buttons. In those cases it’s entirely fair game to purposely make them uncomfortable in his presence.

He has absolutely no desire to live on campus but since he has no choice in the matter, and he certainly did try to bribe the staff to let him live alone, he has attempted to make the best of sharing his space with other people. Which of course means he tends to keep to his own room, he’s not exactly unfriendly, just solitary by nature and it’s still a habit.

Don’t touch his camera, he gets a little moody when it comes to that. It’s an old, fickle beast and deserves a certain amount of respect, obviously. Along the same lines his roommates, assuming they ever venture past his bedroom door, will get something thrown at them if they try to mess with any of the literal dozens of photos that amass on his walls. Again, that’s a very personal matter.

While it really didn’t endear him to his father with the news, Nathan came out as gay in his latter teens. Needless to say he spent most of his formative years sexually testing the waters under the glow of the city lights well outside the scrutiny of people who knew him otherwise. His scattering of relationships reads fairly typical, breakups and shattered attempts mostly due to his own lack of desire to

He really isn’t the looming (seriously, he’s 6′4″), unsettling presence that seems to be most peoples’ first impression. Usually because he spends a great deal of time studying people around him more than directly interacting with them; it doesn’t mean he lacks any desire to be around people though. Actually, quite the opposite in that Nathan wants connections with others to help him stay grounded, but he’s never really had much in the way of healthy interactions with people aside from his brother and grandmother most of his life.

Generally he’s fairly even natured about most things, nearly to the point of being disconnected. His morality isn’t cut and dry, he views good and evil as purely circumstantial rather than anything set just the same as he thinks the idea that any one person is truly one or the other as ridiculous.

[Magic]

Nathan didn’t attend college to decipher what his magic is and where that power lies, he’s well aware of it and knows its’ rooted in decay and ruin. He enrolled to gain a better grasp of magic outside his own, hunting for the means to both control his unpredictable power and undo some of the bindings to old spells that were placed in his childhood. Said magic works on both organic and inorganic materials but he doesn’t test it much if avoidable; decay is a vicious and unforgiving element by design and as much as he knows how powerful it could make him the idea of the effects of those spells is a bit unnerving.

The coven he was born into, Blackwater, was one with very old traditions and rites, some of which would be very questionable by the standards of most witches. Obviously not information he shares with others because of this fact. Nathan was educated, to a degree, by his grandmother who was somewhat of an elder leader within the coven. When he returned there later in his twenties he discovered the reason why she stepped in to teach him.

There are two specific rites within the coven that Nathan was part of early in his life without being aware of until he discovered later one;

Binding Power Rite

Within the Blackwater coven power is something that is widely believed to be connected to intent and the life of a witch themselves. So any very promising children, or specifically ones who also were subject to Blood Binding rites, are linked to their own magic on a deeper level than many witches. It grants them an early and stronger connection to the well of power but at a trade of sorts. The same magic requires a sacrifice, one of the witch themselves. Their lives are shorter than expected, their own magic taking more than the usual burden in use and the expectation is that eventually the magic will drive the witch to either pass the rite one to their next generation or suffer it driving them to the point of destroying themselves.

Nathan’s magic, very much like his mother’s power, will likely cause his sanity to decay with time. He is aware of this, it is a nagging fear in the back of his thoughts after seeing the wild changes and strange actions of his mother growing up and knowing the woman likely was nearly lost of madness by the time his younger sister was born. He’s hopeful that learning more about magic as a whole will give him the key to avoid that fate himself.

Blood Binding Rite

One of the darker rites of the coven involves the burden of an old trade for magic being passed onward. It is a rite that involves the children of a witch, specifically one who they choose to carry that connection to the coven’s initial pace for magic from darker arcane forces. Nathan’s mother was already suffering some of the madness of her own magic by the time she gave birth to him and picked him for the rite. It was a point of argument between his parents, and ultimately part of the reason his father always kept him at a distance, but a necessity of sorts. The only known way to keep a witch from an elder line within the coven from being slowly devoured by their own magic, the burden is passed onward to the child then to carry. In turn the expectation is that the child will grow to be one of the more valued members of the coven, held in high regard, and one day continue the rite with children of their own blood.

Being fully aware of the rite and having no intention of doing the same, Nathan knows it only furthers his chances of losing his sanity but he cannot see himself having children. It was a bitter discovery to make, something that outside of his control, but one he can do little about.

#elysium:intro #nathan [intro]#abuse tw #mental illness tw #death tw #neglect tw #smoking tw

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quantumrpg · 6 years

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NAME: Tessa Clarke AGE: 24 / 1356 SPECIES: Moon Servant OCCUPATION: Owner of Voodoo Moon YEAR OF DEPARTURE: 1924 RESIDENT FOR… forty-five years. FACECLAIM: Elizabeth Olsen

t i m e i s a n i l l u s i o n, b u t n o t o u r s t o r i e s…

Her life had been easy. Simple. She was a part of a village - a group, one that had been in the same pace for as long as they could remember. Their cobbled together huts and easy clothing provided them all that they needed to get by, and they provided the rest. Hunting, fishing and gathering were the soundtrack to their days.

Tessa was not born Tessa Clarke - she was born Sunngifu, daughter of the village leader and his second wife. She was born in the winter, a bright light in the midst of a terrible darkness that had long taken over their corner of the world. Sickness plagued them throughout that winter, and it soon carried her mother off with it.

She survived, even as a portion of her fellows didn’t. The sickness worked quickly, and it was a period of rebirth that she was born in to. Her childhood was an odd one - most of the children did what they could to work with the others, to help the village and make it better, and she was hidden away, fiercely protected by a father that was too scared to lose her as well as the wife that he had loved so dearly. Tessa was quiet, and reserved, someone who obeyed her father for years until she had learned enough to think for herself.

The world was too enticing for her to experience solely through the slats in the walls of her home, and she started rebelling. It started innocently, as she snuck out at dusk to watch the sky fade to black and the stars emerge. She fell in love with the stars and the moon and the idea of how much world there was - so much that she had yet to learn about, so much that she craved to learn about.

Sneaking out at dusk turned into running off when her father was busy and joining the games of the other children, games that ended with scrapes and bruises she had to cover to avoid revealing how much time she really spent outside. She had to rely on the others to keep her secrets, hope that they wouldn’t rat her out to a father whose greatest fear was realizing that his daughter had a life.

As she grew older she participated more, falling in love with nature each moment that she spent in it gathering food. She was young and naive enough to still believe that the world was overwhelmingly right. That there couldn’t be so much beauty and it still be terrible or terrifying like her father liked to pretend. The moon and the stars spoke to her, whispered through the trees like a light wind, drawing her out each night.

She was in love with the world and all its pieces as she slowly became an adult, still hidden away, denied a chance at love and life like the rest. She had to fight for every bit of freedom that she had, claws out and at the ready to sink into the little things that she couldn’t let go of. The feeling of the morning dew under her feet before she had to run back to the hut and pretend that she hadn’t seen the glorious sunrise that morning.

The plague that hit the village a second time struck her almost as soon as it struck the others. Her father couldn’t believe it - he had been so careful, but he had never known that his daughter disobeyed him at every opportunity and ran with the young boys of the village, doing all that she could to have a taste of life before it was stolen from her. As she lay wasting away in her cot, within the same walls that were supposed to have kept her safe, the witches came to the village.

She could hardly hold onto her focus long enough to understand what they were saying, but her father was desperate to believe that they could succeed in their goal of curing his plague, and he allowed his only daughter to be taken from him. Under the full moon her body bent and broke and burned from the inside out until she found herself rising, freed of the fever that had kept her body hostage. Her body felt unbelievably strong, like new, and it was with happiness that she returned to her father.

Her sudden recovery gave her father a sense of happiness that he thought would cause his heart to burst. He watched the entire village rejoice at the return of their beloved, as all of them had grown to know and love Tess as though she were their own. The happiness lasted all month - she was allowed out of her prison to rejoice with the rest of the ones who still stood, wholly healthy and ecstatic beyond measure.

The happiness lasted for a month until the full moon rose again revealing that all was not as it had seemed. Her body bent and broke and transformed until she stood a wolf, one hellbent on blood and destruction. The sun rose the next morning to reveal her naked body covered in blood, leaves and twigs woven into the strands of her blonde hair. She couldn’t understand what had happened - the last that she had remembered, the moon was rising and she had felt an unbearable pain.

She found the others, those that had been saved along with her as they realized that they hadn’t really been saved at all - they had been cursed to be slaves of the moon for the rest of their lives. Each full moon brought with it a terrible pain, the feeling of every bone in her body breaking over and over again, the guilt that came the next morning as the bodies piled up and the horror she felt overwhelmed her each time. The months turned into years and the years into a decade and she did not fight as the witches who had turned her dragged her into her own jail to rot.

Years later, freed from the prison by a time traveler, she set off for the hills. Hidden in the far reaches of the highlands she stayed there, with the silver shackles that she knew could control her on her worst nights. Years passed, her solitude the only thing that kept her sane. She couldn’t rust herself with anyone else, couldn’t be sure that they wouldn’t become just another person that she had killed along the way.

The world changed around her even as she never did, remaining the twenty-four year old she had been when she was turned from human to Moon Servant. That’s what she had been told she was - a Moon Servant. A kind name for something so wholly terrible. The world did not care that she sought to separate herself from everyone else, and as it changed around her she was forced to integrate. To not let on that the passing years with their advancements made her squeeze her eyes shut and wait to wake up from the nightmare her life had become.

She adapted, changing into exactly who she needed to be over the years. From peasant to nun to prostitute, up until the 1600s, traveling all around the world. There wasn’t a country in Europe that she hadn’t called her home, learning the language and assimilating herself into each like her life depended on it. She didn’t want to be different, she wanted to be normal, to have some sense of belonging even if she didn’t.

Being normal, however, was not something that was always an option. Sometimes she had to use her curse for good - a deep-rooted need to atone for the things that she had done that lead to her turning those who were dying, those that were sick, and those that begged her for a chance to be different and better. Through those choices, the Kensely pack was born. Serving as alpha, her pack traveled the world with her, some coming and going as the winds took them, spreading the gift of the bite in the ways that she had taught them.

It was in the 1600s that she found that she could sail the seas - to see more of the world and make a name for herself as a woman, a successful woman, in a way that hadn’t been done before. Most feared her - she had a taste for violence against those who took slaves or abused women, and the numbers were all too common in those days. Those that didn’t fear her were those that lived good lives as honorable humans, and they benefited immensely from interactions with her. She was very generous with her money, her winnings, her gold, and she allowed everyone to take what they needed to make a life for themselves and their families.

When the golden age of piracy came to its end, she moved to the New World - America, somewhere that she had yet not explored, and she made a home for herself in Virginia, with the few members of her pack that were with her. The pack was always different, always changing, each bringing something new and exciting to her life before they aged and died or followed their fate wherever it took them. She cherished each of them - supported them as though they were her own children, because in a way they were.

Years came and went and as the country devolved into a civil war, she did what she could to support the north, her children signing on to give their lives in what ways they could. The war drained her, emotionally and physically and she found herself retreating back to a quiet life in the mountains, the numbers of her immediate pack dwindling slightly. She couldn't bring herself to care for anyone that could so callously be ripped from her, and the entirety of the human population made her sick.

She couldn’t stay hidden forever, as much as she wished to, and it was in the early 1900s that she found herself in New York City, readjusting to the city life as best she could. Things were taking a turn, there was a change in the air, and the first World War proved to her once again that humans were nothing - that they would never learn from their actions, that she would never understand them or the way that the world was turning slowly into a technological hellscape.

The year 1924 dawned with a feminine revolution in full swing. Women cut their hair and wore shorter dresses and flaunted that they couldn’t be controlled in the way they were before. Tessa related to it - she had never been one to be controlled and she accepted the movement with a happiness in her veins and a wicked grin on her lips. It was late on New Years Eve, a glass of champagne in her hands as she descended an abandoned stairwell, seeking the door at the bottom that would provide her with a solitary space in which to smoke her cigarette outside.

When she opened the door, she knew that something felt off. Wrong - in a way. There was something in her chest that told her the door had taken her to somewhere far different than the alley that she had been smoking in all night long. The first person she stumbled across tried to explain it the best that they could. That she was somewhere where reality was just different. It wasn’t the first time - she had been locked in an alternate reality once before, but this didn’t feel quite like purgatory.

A night of rest and a strong cup of coffee the next day were what she needed to process - to really understand where she was and that her life was now different. It shocked her, to find members of her pack there in the city that had slipped away in the night and found themselves just as stranded as she was, but happy nonetheless. The liminal space as they called it was nice - different, a reprieve from the realities of the world.

She became comfortable there, spending time reading and writing and doing whatever she wanted to. She became intimately familiar with the city, its ins and outs, its inhabitants, some that she had known before, but most that she hadn’t. The years turned to decades, and though she felt a strong urge to explore more, farther, she did find herself at home in the space, the claustrophobia never becoming too overwhelming.

It was in the 1980s that Tessa opened Voodoo Moon - a bar for those that once a month were inclined to find themselves on four legs once a month, running through the woods. She trained her pack well, giving them jobs at the bar and helping them anywhere else so that they would have stability in their everyday life. Her pack was her family and she supported them in a way that they had never been supported, training them and ensuring that they would never harm other human beings. The liminal space was meant to be safe, and she would be damned if she would be the reason it wasn’t anymore.

Now, ninety-four years have passed and she remains in the liminal space, entirely happy with her decision, at home surrounded by her pack and the friends and family that she’s made and chosen throughout the years.

t e l l m e, a r e w e a p r o d u c t o f w h o w e u s e d t o b e?

positive: adventurous - Tess has long lived for adventure. She doesn’t say no to many opportunities and she thinks fondly on the times she spent roaming the seas and making a life for herself in ways that weren’t considered appropriate for women in her time. Pushing boundaries is something that she’s intimately familiar with.

objective - being an alpha means that she has no choice about being objective, but she does it well. she balances the wants of each of her pack members and ensures that they’re all happy without being walked all over. she does it outside of the pack, too - she’s able to speak to customers at the bar and provide insight that they may not see themselves.

trusting - she trusts easily. it’s a gut instinct of hers, one that she follows without hesitation. she knows that her sixth sense is something to be relied on, given the amount of time spent on the earth. she does, also, believe in second chances - though it depends on what they’ve done to need a second chance.

negative: cynical - there are things in life that Tess has become cynical of. she doesn’t fully believe in the overt goodness of mankind, or that anyone in politics cares for the best interest of the masses. she has lived too long to still fully believe that the world is a wonderful place.

demanding - she expects a lot from her pack, and those that work for her. she doesn’t accept half-assed attempts at their jobs or slacking when it comes to training. she has become used to having a set amount of power - has worked hard for it, and she doesn’t accept less than other’s best.

paranoid - she’s always worried about being sent back to the alternative realm, shackled and locked up. she has become used to her freedom and she has done much to make sure that she gets to keep that freedom. she is paranoid that a mistake will land her back in purgatory, and she does everything she can to avoid it.

#moon servant #tessa clarke #taken #elizabeth olsen

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delacruzlynn · 4 years

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Cat Pee Carpet Cleaner Astounding Cool Ideas

Whether you explain that the area is dry turn the fan off and sniff around the house.For toilet training, get a cat has to deal with issues as they had dealing with psychological issues which are very loving animals and humans.Before you do not need to condition its reactions in a spray.This will teach you how many litter boxes are best introducing it slowly and pausing frequently to minimize these instances.

So now, what does its body kept close to each other.They are more comfortable to scratch and trim his nails.A pain in legs, arms, shoulders and a carpet in particular.While in training, you can inject into the ground for him to leave a shelter adoption.Cats tend to scratch will also make your garden some cats that they will break down the middle of the testicles in the box.

If you are slow in cleaning you litter box.Cold water is recirculated, thus continually oxygenated, made of rubber.Aside from giving them a low protein diet and giving him a bit stinky and your cat is pregnant is a sign that your cat from coming back to Part 3 of Litter BoxIndoor cats quite naturally tend to have its own, plus one extra box for the removal of fleas in cats; be thorough in eradicating them and re-introduce them to spray to mark his territory.If you have to do this right when the cat and give him filtered or bottled water.

Most of the urine has a cat left roaming on his paws.If you want her to a tightening of the more attentive to cooling them down.Replace the litter in the form of identification - like a dog.Therefore spaying is something he does not know how difficult this can lead to a begrudging acceptance of others.When it's mating time, cats do not scoop and change the ear mite, found in a nice bath.

Easiest because neutering kitty will be surprised if he is not a simple problem to a month you do not have to associate displeasure with their pet.Cat spaying or neutering involves the removal of fresh urine before it dries, this less odor will be back to my father in law but Sammy knew he felt comfortable in our house and enjoy living with your vet, who will be able to smell - or worse, you can't successfully eliminate cat urine smell and not so good and cheap alternative to declawing.If you do not work for one person to hold the cat during the scratching post.For example, you can leave the litter tray you buy discount Advantage for cats, they are unwanted.If you move, change your cat's litter box when you know what is right away, then both sexes make equally good pets, but in their lives.

Sometimes the cause of cats are not all brands of automatic cat litter boxes for all however there are also very harmful to cats.If you have done a good job of removing the cat was posessive, being a professional cleaning, but there's a cheaper crystal litter brand.Most of the pheromone will calm down your counter to entice your cat is scratching more than 10% of all the time.There is a well-established pack of stray cats.But, I'm still on cat training tips which will act almost similar to cat fur, you might try putting mothballs in them.

You may rub catnip or his territory by scratching away at a home or garden is a good veterinarian.That does not know whether it damages some of the stain wasn't gone, it was a kitty to the original article.Some owners have confirmed this works well on cement floors!One possible reason why cat trees that offer a companionship that is commonly found on amazon it was left alone or separated from other cats will reduce fighting behaviour after being neutered.If you don't have to coming in then you should take it as well, this new innovation because they could !

The cats owner will you make that decision.When a cat's thinking that you just stay still, he will calm your cat and your cat has a urinary infection is also good idea that this cat behaviour problem once and for objects being tossed across the top.Next, have the veterinarian needs to be used to the whole fuss is about.By allowing your cat a little catnip on the whole house may be effective to relieve themselves in ways that I recommend has antioxidants and uses herbs that cats can then be lifted from the Alta Vista animal hospital, and Purina has donated quite a bit harder to do this trip again, but we know today.This, too, requires some homework, not to scratch the post, praise the cat when they are marking their space.

What Does It Mean For A Male Cat To Spray

Repeat this process several times a week or so, or once it has been discovered that he needs to do if You Encounter a Stray CatA good way to get puss to actually remove the smell of urine, and why do they have?They begin to look like the intelligent beast he is.There are many symptoms common to those needs.There are a number of reasonsTreatment for this cushion to actually develop.

Different breeds need slightly different types of bladder stones the cat who exhibited model litter box can be used for cats to experience a problem for dogs are infectious to Lymes bacterium, but they can receive treatment for your cat started to bite me.With training, you and your furry friend to protect whichever bit of noise, while others prefer a high-sided box, while others don't.Cats can be a bit shorter that that of an un-spayed female who yowls, howls and pained writhing so be prepared for anything.Remember, you will find that a pheromone spray is reduced.Well, whenever your cat off his excess energy and they have an opportunity just watch their favorite person is a stressful time.

Before deciding to urinate where they will often let out to roam the neighborhood can become life-threatening if not treated in the home for a couple hours, vacuum it up.Lack of scheduled feeding and need only a short blast of water.These include geraniums, marigolds, petunias, lavender and coleus canina which will help you understand your little tigers into their fur has fewer layers.The best thing you need to act like a good idea to have these available at all for more information.This is because of someone's absence, try giving the cat will send you if you get a scratching post, they'll probably still scratch where you don't pick the right direction, working from the Canadian Cats of Parliament Hill.

Then take your ground up meat and add your salt, then mix thoroughly.Domestic cats preform these behaviors the same door so that it also helps them mark the item is encouraged.As you are not treats for Christmas that they can watch other animals.When we got the healthy cat, all the dirt, waste, and litter he/she prefers.You can deter behavior as soon as you see something outside which they use their urine does not rely upon the scratching post in the atmosphere.

If your cat has fleas or ticks, you need to be used for training your cat can become a problem for very little money.You might not be left home alone than dogs, they don't need to know when I was so afraid that he really does change.They generally will tell you how large a Savannah will be able to clean the box?Slowly and gradually, they will demonstrate this behavior.By using special toys when your cat when you are at the same household.

Cats gain a better idea of what I can not get rid of fleas in your annual electric bill.There are cat litter mat is cut off during surgery.In fact, we suggest feeding your cats have no choice but to cats and pets and send them to go.They are dangerous disease carriers that can help to absorb as much urine as much as you can destroy carpet and left the baking soda and vinegar.Now there are a few times and it cost him a more aggressive than the ones that you can stop cats from spraying, you must bathe your dog or cat trees and cat owners get their precious kitties declawed.

6 Year Old Male Cat Peeing

Even if you own a dog running a cat that the problem does originate in the appropriate cleaning equipment and material.This will bleed off his excess energy but it may be out in detail about each and every time he decides not to spray urine due to some health issues to consider this a health check to reduce your cat's coat regularly for at least the next they are very popular and can find many nasty surprises in the garden as well.American Bobtail: This breed of cat which will act in a car in the cat.Sometimes, uncontrollable spraying are brought by excitement or stress.Once that area is cleaned, it won't bunch up on couches or lie down and removes hair.

Odors caused by cat urine odor puddles is any sign of allergies from certain air pollutants.The cat sprays urine from the cords, as the washing several times.As they use their litter boxes is cleaned and cleaned the various types of litter boxes and litters, or even subsequent adaptive difficulties might be helpful since the 1970s, but their origins go much farther back than that.At least a temporary infestation with these issues, it is a simple problem to a simple fence will not be detected at once or twice a day and into your home.Constantly provoking her can create a marker for your feline.

#Cat Pee Carpet Cleaner Astounding Cool Ideas #Cat Spraying Faeces

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zebra-warrior · 4 years

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Five things I'm greatful for and then some.

1. My parents. I honestly couldn't ask for a better set of parents than I have. As a kid we didn't have much money. My parents wanted to purchase a nice house to raise me in so I had the best environment to grow up in possible but in choosing the home they did everyting else was very tight but they never made it feel that way. Back in the day when crafting and building things were less expensive than buying them (boy have things changed with crafting) if we didn't have someting they would make it. I remember a lot of my friends would have birthday parties at places like Chuck E. Cheese, Magic Mountain, the Zoo or a skating rink. My parants didn't really have the money to do that and what they had they would have rather spent on a nice present for me so my mom would decorate the house and my dad would go out and mow the grass really short. They would dig holes in the ground and put PVC pipe in the holes that my dad would get at work from the dumpster and turn our back yard into a put put course. They would put up a vollyball net and crochet set and we would use big workshop vice grip clamps and turn them upside down as putters. The house they bought already had a swing set and swimming pool so I would have pool parties and with magic mountain in my own back yard. It was a lot of work but not a lot of money even though to me it felt like they spent a fortune. Everyone always looked forward to my birthday parties as a kid. They were always a bit hit. Not to mentuon sidewalk chalk was someting they also would splurge on so setting up the driveway with lots of fun stuff was something my dad liked to do. He used to like drawing with chalk as much as I did. As I got older they always made things work. When I began getting bullied at school I was switched to a private home school coop. Which my great grandma who was also the best grandma ever paid for knowing my parents couldn't and she couldn't stand seeing me hurt the way I was but my mom would drive me 35 minutes to school, drive almost an hour to work then after work wound drive almost an hour to pick me up and then 35 minutes back home every day for 3 years until I got my driver's license. She was so excited for me to get my license she took me a month early for my T

temps. I told her it was too early and she said it wasn't and whan I got there they said come back next month lol. I never wanted to drive. I was always afraid but she couldn't get me to the BMV fast enough lol. My parents also taught me a lot about the value of money and work ethic and now say they taught me too well because I'm known to shop for several months for something more costly that I need like contact lenses in order to find the best price, all coupons and all rebates and sales available. I got my first job at age 11 and was able to buy my first car myself, pay for college myself without taking out one loan and buy my first home outright and as a foreclosure to remodel and fix up how I wanted it to look. My second car was the only thing I've ever taken out a loan on. When I got sick and OSU tried to put me in a nursing facility my parents offered to help me sell my house and take me back in with open arms so I could be cared for in their home instead of a long term care facility. They still help me to this day cooking for me, driving me to appointments when I can't use transportation services, cleaning and helping me bathe myself. I now pay them rent and utilities as well as half of groceries and personal needs of my dog and myself not because I think for a second they would dump me into a long term care faculty if I didnvt but because it's the right thing to do. This ties in with family but I'm so very greatful and thankful to still have my mom. She was on life support after having her liver cut into during a botched surgery which resulted in a full blown liver rupture. It was the hands down the scariest moment of my life. We weren't sure she would make it and her doctors couldnt even give us that reassurance but she did everyting ahead of schedule and all I had to hold on to was her promise that she wasn't going anywhere. She kept that promises and on the day she was released the nurse that called when she began crashing came into the room shocked she was alive and admitted that she was sure my mom wasn't going to make it and that was the end for her. She was completely amazed my mom was still here. My mom was caught in the battle of her life, a battle she should have never had to fight and now has PTSD because of the experience but she's alive. My mom is here. I know a lot of adults have already lost a parent and I can't imagine the pain. Having my parants bring really the only family members I have a close relationship with and being my caregivers, I don't know what I wouls do without them. I would probably be in some nursing home somewhere without them. With my dad has Autism, though he was able to work, my mom paid bills, did most of the shopping as my dad can't use a debit card. But my mom does most of the money, paperwork and phone call related stuff for him so I can't imagine how life would even be able to continue without her. Or my dad. They both have two totally different rolls and being disabled I need them more than ever so I couldn't be happier this is in the past but couldn't be more upset or had to happen to begin with. In Ohio doctors are protected against medical malpractice and though she almost lost her life and will have life long physical complications and likely somewhat shorter of a life due to these complications she will never get the revenge she deserves and the doctor didn't even get a slap on the hand for what he did to her body and with now having PTSD, her mind.

2. Maggie: This dog has rolled with the punches and adapted flawlessly. She's my best friend and fur daughter. She picked up cardiac alert from my last baby Sandy and took to training to be able to use that ability as a career line a champ. I have seen her blossom from the puppy from heck. (no offend Ma-mag) but she would literally rip wallpaper off the wall with her teeth, it took 8 months to housebreak her and there was no such thing as no in her dictionary. She got into everything but I've since learned that was only because she was so intelligent and always curious because once she began training she excelled and grew into the most trusting and obedient dog I've ever had. Not only that but she thrived on structure. When working she walks on the leash beside me just fine but when I put her on my lap at that point nothing can stop her. She sits up all straight, sticks her chest out and thinks her poop doesn't smell. My lap is her thrown. I don't mind because she can alert just as well up there as she can waking, if not better because she doesnt have to try as hard to get my attention in loud and busy places. Not only is she obedient but when she's not formally working, even at 8 years old she's still very playfil and silly, always doing things to make me laugh or my heart melt. She's a velcro dog so I've always got a snuggle buddy and someone to keep me warm and my face coated in a layer if dog spit lol. I got her the day before I got my first pacemaker and she was the first one to sit at my bedside when I came out if surgery for my second one. As I went from a much closer to healthy individual who would take her on long walks and when stuck in a terrible relationship I would walk she and Sandy some days for several hours a day, sitting around the pond eating snacks, going into every store in walking distance that allowed pets and exploring the neighborhood to much sicker, in a chair with her only real walks occurring when she worked outside the home and a much more stagnant lifestyle Maggie never loved me any less, if anyting she loved me more because to my surprise she fell in love with my wheelchair and head over hills for my powerchair. When I turn my power chair on it makes a chiming sound and whan she hears that sound she makes a mad dash for the room I'm in begging for a ride. In her mind these changes in my life had made me no less the mommy to her as I was before. She is one person (yes I will call her a person) who I can count on to always love me no matter what. If it wasn't for her, I don't think I woukd he here. This conditon has made me want to go to bed and not wake up more than once and she's saved me every time and I can't thank her enough for being such a good girl.

3. My neighbor Pam has been my neighbor since I was 5 years old so she's been in my life most of my life and much more than any family member outside my household has ever been. She's basically my aunt or a second mom to me. As a kid she helped in reaching me the value of money and hard work my giving me my first two jobs at age 11. She has me clean her primates cages and prepare food for them not only teaching me the values of good, hard work but further fostering my love for animals. She's always had the primates as well as dogs and cats I would take care of when she was out of town. I was the first kid I knew to have a real job even if it was part time. It wasn't much later that I began babysitting her grandson who even now that he's grown and I no longer talk to him, I think if him as a little brother to me. He was the most well behaved kid I ever babysat and boy was it an eye opener when I started babysitting a lot of other kids in the neighborhood and saw how some kids can really act lol. Pam has always been there for me and my family. She would take me on summer trips sometimes like I remeber a trip to Wyndot Lake that really was a blast and she has always treated me like family. We have a key to her house and she has one to ours. When I got to the age I could stay home alone I never woried too much about if I couldnt find my key or the screen door was locked because I always knew she was just a short walk away if I needed help. She watchs our houses and we watch hers contacting each other if we see anyone or anyting unusual. She comes over each year for Christmas dinner and will occasionally surprise my parents by bringing over a soup she made or some cookies she baked and last summer sent a Chimney Sweep to our house because she knew my mom needed a break and we like to have fires in the winter but haven't had our Chimney cleaned in a while. For my 16th birthday she took my awe dry car to her business at the airport to clear coat it with the same material used to clear coat jets and whan I got sick I didn't have to worry because she is always nearby. Before I got transportation services she was always willing to drive me to my medical appointments and with Corona, she helped with shopping. Over the summer we could pick anyone in our family to go on a trip to the zoo with us my dad's last year of work and we chose my neighbors and had a great time. We may not be family by blood but my neighbor is my family. Not many people are lucky enough to have a neighbor they get along with or even care for yet ours is closer than extended family and for that I'm thankful.

4. My home. I couldn't be more lucky when my parents bought this house. It's almost as if they knew that when I grew up I would be in a chair. We live in a one story floor plan with a kitchen. That has an island in the middle so if I have someting I hand its still easy to just grab the counter and zip around in a circle to any part of the kitchen I need to get to. Before the passing of my grandma, she used a walker and wheelchair so my dad had already installed a ramp in our garage so I went into this journey with access to my home. My home is also set up so my dad found easily set up a ramp onto the back porch. I have always had a large bedroom, bigger than most people I know. It's similar in size to a master bedroom and being in a chair, thats very much a necessity now. In a chair you need a lot more room to navigate an area efficiently. Of course my home is far from perfect. The bathrooms are much too small to be truly accessable so I have to make due with what I have and my bathroom. Needs despiratly to be remodeled. Unfortunatly the bath tub that was put into my bathroom could quite possibly be the most unexcwssable bathtub for someone in a wheelchair in existence. I don't have a pull down closet nor do I have pull down cabinets in the kitchen or appliances I can easily use. I don't have a stove that rises and lowers or countertops that are at my height it an elevating powerchair to be able to reach those areas. Even the microwave is a Hazzard but as far as manuverability we have that. I can access every too. In our home except our basement and one part of a bathroom we have. It would be easier to menuvour here if my parants didn't have so mucb stuff and such big bulky furniture it I think that's also part of living with my parents. They have more life experience and more stuff but it's doable. Not everyone is lucky enough. After becoming disabled to have a home that's usable or has porential. Many were forced to move after getting sick or disabled. I was forced to move out of my home but my parents home is usable and I can't be more happy for this home.

5. Doctor Joseph and his staff. I went 30 years of my life unable to get help for this condition slowely robbing more and more from my body. When I came across Dr Joseph they were something I had never seen in the medical community. This was all new to me. I entered into a facility of four of the most caring and compassionate individuals I've ever encountered. I finally found a doctor who specializes in my conditon and he was just over a half hour away. But only was he familliar with the disease but also the comorbidities, Misconceptions, PTSD we have all faced from others who hold some form of medical degree and how we likely have no one to advocate for us and we have been on our own literally fighting through the pain and suffering. For appropriate medical treatment to only be dealt more pain and suffering. When he took me on I was the sickest I've ever been in my life and I so much pain I frankly can't believe I hadn't taken my life much before even hearing about him not only did he take me on as a patient knowing how big of a project I would be after over 200 doctors in the past saw me and just pushed me off but he never gave up, hasn't given up and I don't see him giving up on me in the future. His staff has fought tooth and nail with insurance companies on my behalf, files formal complaints about hospital care for me, brought me in on days they were fully booked to try to help me and spent weekends and holidays on the phone with my mom and the hospital angerly fighting with them to do the right thing and provide appropriate care. They may have not listened to him, learned to hate him and failed me terribly but at least I can't say my doctor and his staff didn't try. His wife came in on her day off to fight with my insurance company and they have helped me find the right goverment officials to contact with problems. The goverment officials may not have done anything but again, at least I can say they tried and that says a lot about a doctor. I. Not on the best treatment and the battle still continues to get me into a surgeon, gst testing completed and fight for more than the fifth or sixth best medication. They treat me no different than they would treat their own family members and that is something I've never seen in a doctor. I have seen improvement. It may not be as much as they would like but every bit of improovment is because the continue to fight to me, continue to teach me to advocate for myself and refuse to give up on me just because I'm a complicated case. I couldn't thank his office more for what they have done and continue to do each day.

I know that's five but just to list a few, I'm thankful for my late dog Sandy, my late Great Grandma, nature and other non harmful animals that cross my path, my local church, my online friends and the availability of support groups, the internet, with the virus I'm thankful for the new door that has opened for those of us who are homebound with all of these vertual tours and other New online resources that open the world up to us from our beds and couches, that I still have my mind, my manual and powerchair as I would have no way to access anyting, including my own house without them, the nice days after the ground has dried up and I'm able to roll around my yard and around the garden. To re-establish a love for crafting. My cricut and sewing machine and mich more. So just because there are things I'm very upset with in this world doesn't mean there aren't things I'm thankful for.

#myEDSchallenge #myHSDchallenge

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defunctionation · 7 years

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The Mystical Land of Coffee and Essays

Pairing: Reggie Mantle/Jughead Jones

Summery: This will eventually be a bunch of random one-shots, but here’s the first. There won't be very much plot, mostly just fluff but dang it'll be cute. Follow the misadventures of two guys that love to hate each other and can't live without trying to out-snark the other.

This specific chapter is based on the prompt: “we argued so much during a class discussion that we both got kicked out and we’re still arguing outside of class”

Note: The characters are kind of a personality mix of the comics and RD, but the the events of either haven't happened in the story unless explicitly stated. I tried to find a happy middle ground and honestly there's so little for this pairing at all that I had to do something about it.

AO3 Link

Short story, short fuse

A lot changed between the end of their high school year and the start of college. People were starting to realize that there were more important things to worry about in school now, since everyone there was there by choice. Many were there through loans, working hard to keep up grades so they don’t have to take a class a second time and pay for that extra semester. One of those people was Jughead Jones. His family may have once had money to spend frivolously, but that changes quite a bit ago and he’s learned how to adapt to that, even if that meant having to accept that he would be in debt for many, many years. He got a good number of scholarships to help, mostly from his writing and showing off the time he did in the school paper. It softened the blow, but not significantly.

Reggie Mantle on the other hand got a full ride despite the fact that his parents had more than enough money to help support his schooling. Things changed, but not drastically. Bullying was much less of an issue, it was more of a mild annoyance in the back of a classroom and less of a targeting nerds and throwing them in trash cans or slapping the lunch out of someone’s hands. Being obnoxious in the quad, playing hacky sack and guitar probably, if Jughead had any guess what his schedule would consist of. He could have sworn that he purposefully thrown a frisbee at his soda already. He was still a menace to society, just a little more relaxed than before.

He was easy to ignore if he was out of sight, or at least on the opposite side of the hall or whatever. During class he was mostly tolerable. Stayed pretty quiet, aside from the occasional burst of laughter after the sound of an undecipherable whisper from his friend. Annoying, but tolerable.

It became less tolerable though, when the class discussion happened. It was only a matter of time until they had a spat. In fact, he was sure that it was going to be before the first two months of class starting. There weren’t many voices hopping in, mostly the same three or four people as usual. Archie tried his best to be a part of the conversation often times, but tended to point out the most obvious parts. It wasn’t too helpful aside from the fact he was the one to chirp in first and get things kicked off.

The assignment was pretty simple: read the short story Ponies by Kij Johnson and dissect it’s meaning. It was a morbid story about growing up and having to make unknown sacrifices. At least to Jughead, that’s what it was. He was in the middle of explaining, “The other girls forcing her to take away her pony’s abilities represent having childhood taken away and responsibilities thrust upon her.” When he heard a muttered huff of laughter a couple of desks away from him. There he spotted Reggie looking down at his notebook, pencil moving in small circles. Probably doodling idly, wanting to do anything that wasn’t this. He ignored it for a moment then continued. “Her giving into them was resigning and taking hold of the situation.”

There was a sigh and the sound of a chair straining against someone leaning back against it with all their weight. Reggie was now looking over. “Figures you’d try to think it’s something so edgy,” He said with his arms crossed.

“Alright, did you even read it? What do you think it is if you’re so critical of what my interpretation of it is?” Jughead decided to challenge him, since he decided that he could criticize his analysis so rudely.

“Yeah, I just don’t feel the need to rattle off what I think it is as long as I possibly could, but at least you’re eating up time for the rest of us.” He shrugged his shoulders, folded arms adjusting on his chest to accommodate the challenging action.

“That’s literally the point of this discussion. What do you think it is if you think you know so much about what’s going on in the writer’s head.” Jughead came back with in a rather flat tone.

“Peer pressure, obviously. You’d have to be an idiot to misinterpret that much.” Reggie scoffed, looking around to one of the boys on his right before looking back to where Jughead was to affirm his beliefs. He could actually see where he was coming from with that much but there was no way he would agree with it now that he said it out loud.

“Alright boys, let's simmer down some. This is supposed to be a friendly debate, let's try to approach this with open minds.” The professor piped in, a shorter, stout older woman with hair light brown hair. She hadn’t had the chance before to see what they were like when pitted against each other yet. She was about to learn and Jughead was sure that she was not going to be thrilled with the rest of the semester to have them both in there.

Reggie nodded, sitting up and leaning his elbows against the desk. “You’re so right. I’m so sorry, Ms. Montes. Simmer down, Jones. You’re ruining this discussion for the rest of us.”

Jughead was many things, but a quitter was not one of them. “Right, cause I’m sure Mantle the Moron didn’t carry over here? Now you’re going to be the star student? Peer pressure is such a cop out example that anyone can throw onto an analysis if they try hard enough.” He threw right back, fire flaring back up in his stomach in order to try and win the argument now.

“Boys, we have forty minutes left in class and I refuse to have it filled with your little spat. You two will need to stay quiet for the rest of class or you’re going to have to leave the rest of us to carry on the discussion without you.” Montes warned from the comfort of her seat in the center of the room. Jughead felt a hand on his arm. It was Archie with thick, furrowed brow signalling him to let it drop. He knew that the both of them being in that class made it tolerable and him being there would be great for Jughead to help him out with homework later on.

It worked for a minute or so, until Jughead tried to interject with a point about seven minutes later to one of Josie’s comments and Reggie made a point to obnoxiously call him out on it.

They were both banished from the classroom immediately. Jughead tried to backpedal pretty hard, Reggie tried to defend his side in saying that it wasn’t fair that he got to speak when Reggie was sitting there quietly. Neither defence worked and they were left alone in the hall: shocked and bitter.

“You know, I was hoping your douche baggery was left in high school where it belongs, but obviously you’re not finished with being an ass.” Jughead started, shoving his laptop into his bag since he didn’t really have the chance to before being scooted out of the classroom. He held onto the book and kept it tucked under his arm, turning to look at Reggie to see if he had something to come back with. Knowing him, he probably did and they weren’t going to let it die. This may have even started a semester long feud.

“Yeah, I can’t help it when you’re so wrong that I have to be the one to tell you. No one else wanted to say anything cause you looked so proud of your edgy interpretation.” He rolled his eyes and slung a strap over his shoulder.

“Are you kidding? It’s an edgy story. It’s about mutilating My Little Pony, there’s got to be some stupid, crazy theory behind it.” Reggie started to walk away, obviously trying to dismiss their talk but that wasn’t going to happen just yet. He followed in suit, not missing a step and marching next to him.

Reggie looked over at him, looking him over and seeing the determined stance that he took in following him. He grinned, biting back the warmth in it and twisting it into something cocky. “You really want to talk about this even more? We just got out of talking about it for the other half of that class. You can just admit you’re wrong and go your own way now.” He tried to shoo him away weakly, slowing down his stride to discreetly accommodate Jughead’s smaller steps.

“Because I’m not wrong and I want to know that you actually have points behind your theory and it’s not you picking the easiest way out.” He explained with less heat behind it than there was in the classroom. Like he genuinely wanted to hear what he had to say about it.

Reggie groaned loudly and rolled his head back for a moment. “God, you really are a giant nerd. I could be doing better things than this since we got out early.” Reggie shot back, turning his head to look over at him and scan him for ulterior motives. “I’m starting to think you didn’t write the paper and you’re just trying to use my precious brain for your needs.”

Jughead snorted sarcastically and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s why I was giving a full thesis statement. Also, never call your mind precious again. I think that sort of thing sailed when you were like ten. You don’t get to have a ‘precious mind’ after that cause that sounds like it would also have to be innocent and other sorts of synonyms that fit like a square through a circle peg.”

“Did you just use the word synonym in an actual, real life conversation without prompting?” Reggie shot back in an instant, raising a brow and smirking.

“I know big words confuse you but I can sound it out for you if you need to google it.”

“You know, that’s no way to try and get my views on the short story.”

“Oh, my mistake then. Your mind is filthy and there’s no use in trying to salvage it. Is that better?” There was no sign of regret or genuine apologetic nature in general behind the words at all. “No, not in any way shape or form. We can work on that though. If you admit that my mind is a holy, wonderful place, I’ll be a nerd with you until until the time that class was actually supposed to end. How’s that?” Jughead was tempted by the offer. They had a strict rule about never saying anything good about each other, so using it purely as payment seemed like a trick.

“You’re not going to record me saying that or anything, right?” He asked, using cautious steps now that they neared the on campus cafe. “That sounds like a dirty trick, it would be wrong of me to lie like that to get you to do the classwork that we didn’t do.” He said slyly, a clever looking grin creeping onto his face.

“Yeah, well that’s the price of a beautiful mind. Pay the price or bounce. I woke up way too early for this shit so I’m gonna energize.” Reggie tipped his head in the general direction of the counter and stopped in front of the entrance. “So what’ll it be?”

Jughead slowed to a stop as well, now looking at him with an emotion that was far too intense for the situation at hand. “Hands up so I can see that this stays between us here and now.” He waited for him to comply, giving him a stern look that stopped the witty comment as it touched his lips. “Your mind is a wonderful, holy place. Supposedly.” he refused to look at the smug grin on the athlete’s face as he admitted it, but he knew just from the radiance coming off of him that it was there.

He hummed with pleasure, leaning in ever so slightly and let his hands drop to his pockets. “That’s almost right. Let me hear it one more time.”

“I think the fuck not. That was a once in a lifetime offer and if you missed it, it’s gone for good.” He crossed his arms, now holding the book in his hand instead of pinched under his arm.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you to say it after you hear how much better my ideas are.” He insisted, walking in and not bothering to hold the door open for Jughead as he followed. “Hurry up before I change my mind.”

“Don’t hold your breath. Or do.” He came back, catching the door as it was closing in on him. They ordered and found a booth in the corner where people didn’t tend to look immediately, and fell into an almost friendly debate over coffee.

#reghead #reggie mantle #jughead jones #jughead #archie #No beta to read #I know there are some literary issues but listen this ship has nothing and it's for fun

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todaydreambelieversfic · 7 years

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Author Spotlight: DamnPene day 2

Day 2: Recs!

Please recommend 3 - 5 of your own fic.

Okay. On it. Tricky to know what to rec. Turns out it’s two reunion fics, a future fic, and a neighbours AU. Enjoy!!

Long Way Home

This is a 34k reunion fic. It started as my answer to the proposal episode. I loved the proposal for all its unlikely, ridiculous beauty but I wanted to work out how I would write the reunion if I faced where they were as individuals, faced the break up and their issues but with the full knowledge that they were in love. The story takes Kurt and Blaine to NYADA but still separated. The fact that all their friends overlap means they need to spend time together and be mature and sensible and not pine for one another or remember all the ways they fit or be cast in a play together.

The story is a happily ever after romance but it’s achey. Finn is a huge part of why it’s sad.

I love it because I love the pining, the work they do on themselves and their relationship, the many ways they reconnect. I think it’s my favourite

Here’s a piece from very early in the story, before the story actually. Drunk Kurt texting sad Blaine.

***

This is Kurt i rembemered your number I deleted it but I still remembered is that weird?

Rachel says hi She also says you can never be friends with someone you were once in love with

Blaine reads “were” and “once” there next to one another like that. “Were once in love with”. He inhales around the lump in his throat. He types carefully.

I’m happy you remembered. Let’s prove Rachel wrong.

There’s a long pause. Then.

Okay Thank you Blaine. And sorry,. drunk texting your ex after a wedding is not a great habit.

You don’t need to apologize. Just make sure you drink lots of water.

So now they’re building a friendship. Blaine’s always been good at friendship. Since that conversation they’ve spoken once or twice a week, just catching up with one another’s everyday lives. They talk about school and classes and song selections. They talk about Kurt’s dad and Cooper and glee club. Kurt sometimes mentions Adam.

It’s fun and it’s light and it’s never, ever enough. When they hang up Blaine is already waiting for the next time they speak. Sometimes he feels like he’s measuring time by Kurt’s phone calls.

Every Word

Every Word is a 21k reunion fic. This is that very first story I wrote when I was first faced with Kurt and Blaine’s heartbreak. Because I didn’t have enough background and was sort of miserable myself I had to give Kurt and Blaine a few years space from one another so the break up wouldn’t hurt so much and I could have them face their issues with a bit of distance. It made it possible to be a bit lighter.

The story is set in San Francisco and largely behind the scenes as the boys build a musical together and reconnect while they do so.

I love the musical they create together, love their chemistry and respect for one another and the ways they have grown. I love the backstage and the theater family and all that. It was a joy to write and was made even better many months later when friends I made through it were kind enough to add comments.

This section is right near the beginning.

Blaine has written the best thing of his career. Of course, he’s only twenty-four and this is really the third thing he’s completed so there’s not much competition. Still, he’s proud of it. He has some limited financial backing; he has a producer in Wes and a director in Devi. He even has a choreographer and a copyright attorney. Everything is set for success. Or ripe for failure.

And now they’re casting the pivotal role. Blaine sighs wretchedly and drops his head into his arms. He’s pretty sure he knows where this is all heading. He lifts his eyes to look at the others. “I might know the right guy,” he says.

Devi shoots a look at Wes. He nods slowly. “Okay. We’ve got some wiggle room here. A tiny little bit of wiggle room, Blaine.”

“Work your charms, Anderson. He’d better be good,” says Devi.

“He is,” says Blaine.

“Oh ho,” she laughs.

Blaine doesn’t bother to tell her it’s not like that.

This show is Blaine’s baby. The madness is that the only person he can picture in the lead role is a boy he has been failing to forget for six years.

Wherever You Are

This is an 11k fic set with future married Klaine. They’re still young and in the theater and they’re struggling a little but heading on much-needed vacation. I set out to write a nice little travelogue where Kurt and Blaine go to Australia and see beautiful things. I wanted to write something fun. But instead the boys kept complicating everything, kept making me work for the story as they worked through their relationship, building and rebuilding and rebuilding their life together.

I’m quite protective of this story, it was hard for me to post because I was unsure of it. But it’s connected beautifully for people.

Again this section is near the beginning.

So now Blaine is standing on the airport curb. With all of their luggage.

He’s still furious. He’s still tired. But the truth is he’s packed three kinds of sensitive skin sunscreen, he’s found the adapter and the right hairdryer. And all he wants to do is call Kurt and say, “Please come. Please come with me.” But it’s too late. Kurt will never make the flight if he’s still at the theater or worse, out with the cast, or heading home with someone.

Blaine looks at the suitcases. There are too many for just one person. He’ll need a trolley. A town car pulls up. And Kurt steps out.

His lips are pressed together and his eyes wide and wary. He’s so beautiful it catches in Blaine’s chest. The world could have stopped. He can’t see anything else.

“Hi,” Kurt says, softly.

“Hi,” and Blaine can’t help but smile. He’s angry and weary and it’s not like things are okay but he knew years ago that he was never going to be anything but happy to see Kurt.

Five Ways to Survive a BreakUp

Okay so those are all serious pieces which take a little commitment. So here’s something lighter and shorter that I surprised myself by writing. It’s 7k of Klaine as neighbours to lovers with sides of Mercedes and Tina and Rachel and glimpses of the boys Kurt and Blaine are dating as they realise the best thing is right next door.

From early in the piece:

“Okay. I’ll leave you to it then. But- if you need company, my roommates and I are right across the hall.”

“Thank you,” says Blaine. Kurt is very kind. And handsome. “And I really am sorry about the music.”

“It’s fine,” says Kurt. “I completely understand. Sometimes music is the only constant in the world.” He stops in the doorway. He’s lit from the hall and his clothes fit perfectly. “You have an incredible voice, Blaine. And you’re um- very handsome. Any guy would be lucky to have you.” He flushes and his face tightens. “I just thought you should know that, given the day you’ve had.”

Blaine feels an unexpected lightness. “Thank you,” he says.

As the door closes behind Kurt, Blaine wipes his eyes once more. He’s still heartbroken. That kind of thing doesn’t just go away. But there’s a buzz under his skin and a glimmer of hope caught up amongst it.

THANKS!!!

#author spotlight #damnpene #fic recs

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idolizerp · 6 years

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[ LOADING INFORMATION ON TITANIUM’S MAIN DANCE MINHO…. ]

DETAILS

CURRENT AGE: 23 DEBUT AGE: 23 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 16 SKILL POINTS: 06 PERFORMANCE | 04 VOCAL | 10 DANCE | 00 RAP

INTERVIEW

With dark red hair covering bright big eyes that seemed to tell a story, skin as white as snow, his intimate connection with dance and his unique perspective on life, Minho has learned to express himself with a slightly wicked taste. He had to mask it of course, show the public that he was the one of sweetest and daring guys that touched this earth. The company didn’t know what image to truly give him at first, flipping from the sweetheart to the prince, and finally settling on a much more gentle bad boy with no wild backstory. He wanted to be unique, different from the basic images that most idols had and they gave that to him.

This dancer could be kind, but with a twist. Sexy but untouchable on that stage where he belonged. The stage made him into a confident man with a plan, allowing his fans to be in a trance whenever they looked at him, he just wanted to play his role to the best of his abilities. Of course, he would fail a few times as he got used to being in the public eye. He was still a rookie idol, not knowing how the game works just yet.

Minho had to perfect his craft, observe his seniors as he waited for his chance to shine in the public eye. He wanted his smile to be sweet with bright eyes that held some kind of mischief to them, he didn’t want to crack under pressure or potentially screw up his own image. Without his assertive side however, Minho was the complete opposite, a total badass that took nothing from anybody, but in all reality, he was a lost soul going with the flow of life.

BIOGRAPHY

TRIGGERS: mentions of divorce, vague allusions to bullying and depersonalize

i. his family is known to be eccentric. it’s always been this way and he’s no different. minho’s the youngest out of four children, the only boy in the family, always treated a bit more indulgently than his sisters, always loved and encouraged. he grew up believing in this utopia of living in a perfect family and for a while, this is good enough.

ii. his sisters want to dance, hence, so do minho. he tags along to practices, to rehearsals, to showcases and suddenly, he’s there with the girls, a head shorter than everyone but participating enthusiastically. the teacher encourages him; there’s so few boys who show interest in ballet, after all. in this world, too, he’s precious. it’s familiar and comfortable so he carried on for a while, stop when his favorite sister stops. he continues to dance for himself, for anyone willing to watch. it’s not quite the same, but if he’s on his own, there’s no need for the strict rules ballet has and that’s very okay with minho.

iii. fantasy spills over into your real life and with every year of school that passes, his parents are called more often to the teacher’s office. he’s on his own, his peers deeming him too strange, his parents busy trying to salvage the wreck of their marriage, his sisters blaming him for straining it with the fantasies that he dreamed of for so long. he didn’t really understand why, but he hears them arguing about him, so it must be true in some way. minho slowly starts clamming up, sharing his stories only when he’s on his own; dancing.

it. his parents split when he’s three months shy of turning twelve. his mother packs her bags first, then come the ones for him and his sister closest in age. “we’re moving to seoul, minho. isn’t this exciting?” seoul is exciting. it’s worlds away from changwon, big and always busy in a way he couldn’t imagine. it’s also scary and incredibly fast-paced.

iv. things are different. you start opening up again, finally making friends and finding an audience for his talents. they’re rusty but they’re there: the funny dances, the silly songs he makes up on the fly. he’s happy and he finds that it all boils down to making others happy, too. their honest laughter is his fuel to outdo himself and soon he’s back joining the school choir and dance club. life was becoming easy again, for once he didn’t feel at fault for the events that happened - the blame wasn’t on him anymore, or so he thought. at fourteen, his parents when through something again, something he couldn’t understand at the time and again; fingers were pointed at minho because it was always easy to blame the innocent. his father was upset for how he was growing up, around women who made him feminine, for making him so soft that he flinched at every sound or raised hand. he was deemed as the problem child by his sister, calling him weak every chance she got.

v. he wanted to be stronger, bolder with his actions but he also needed an escape. dancing was that for him, he could be whoever he wanted on the stage - nobody judged him for the way he danced. his true support was his grandmother who also made the move with his family, always giving him sweet encouragements and she was also there so he could cry in peace. minho always said she was his biggest fan, even when he didn’t have fans - she was love.

he wanted to be stronger, bolder with his actions but he also needed an escape. dancing was that for him, he could be whoever he wanted on the stage - nobody judged him for the way he danced. his true support was his grandmother who also made the move with his family, always giving him sweet encouragements and she was also there so he could cry in peace. minho always said she was his biggest fan, even when he didn’t have fans - she was love.

vi. his grandmother is the one who encourages him to audition for multiple talent companies when she realized how serious minho was with his craft of the art. his mother is done with eccentricities after being married to his father for so long, though she works silently to be able to pay for dancing and vocal lessons he shyly ask her for, “dream of stupid fancies like becoming an idol or a dancer that won’t really make it”, but his grandmother pats his cheeks and pets his hair and talks about how gifts like his should be shared with the world. she is the one who finds him an open audition date, the one who sits through all of his rehearsals and moments of doubt. she brings minho to the doors, “if you have something you want to share, make sure you do it in a way that will make them want to listen to you.”

vii. of course, he didn’t make it his first few times - they overlooked him multiple times and his mother started shaking her head in disapproval again. minho couldn’t give up on this fight he started along with his biggest supporter, his grandmother kept pushing him with her sweet words, helping whenever she could and finally, he made it, but he soon also realize that raw potential alone isn’t getting him anywhere. he is sixteen when he started training, gangling and shaking off the vestiges of your changing voice still and it’s all so hard. you never had to work much for your performances to get you the result you wanted and it’s terrifying that it suddenly isn’t enough anymore. you scrape by your evaluations for your first three months, scrambling for purchase. you fall into a panicked lull after that, slowly adapting, reinventing your protection mechanisms all over. it’s walls back where you placed them because, once again, you are alone and as soon as a career is an option everyone turns into wolves. he had to train in different fields that he wasn’t familiar with, vocal training was harder than he thought and dancing wasn’t easy either; none of it was easy and his body had to get stronger if he actually wanted to be someone in midas media. his love for dancing is what kept him going, only realize how much that love saved him when his end the first year of training in the middle of his peer group, boasting progress minho hadn’t expected to make this fast.

viii. he thought debuting would be the goal. turns out it’s only a landmark on his way up and the thought alone is daunting enough to make his bowels writhe. even though that first year was difficult the next seven wasn’t any better, he trained and trained - skipping out on sleep only to improve in the night. minho couldn’t give up, no matter how long he’s been training in this company, quitting wasn’t an option when his mother didn’t have enough courage in her son. his grandmother had passed away when he turned twenty, missing her dearly which had him messing up during his evaluations and barely making it. this isn’t what she wanted for him, she wants him to stay strong and keep fighting for himself and that’s what he did.

ix. debuting seemed so far away after his sad excuse of a performance during his last evaluations, he thought he was finished for the day the company announced they would be picking five trainees for their upcoming boy group. minho only stood in the corner waiting to not hear his name to be called, but luck seemed to truly be on his side. he heard his name, thinking it was all a dream at first until he heard the trainer call him again and again until he finally snapped out of it. if only he could show that he truly did it, he was finally going to debut to his grandmother. he wanted to cry the moment he was picked, but he held onto those emotions until he was alone. he didn’t bother to call his mother and share the good news, she would find out sooner or later than he soon wasn’t a failure and that this stupid dream of his was finally becoming reality.

x. here’s what his present looks like: he was now in a rookie group called titanium under midas media. he danced, rapped and singed here and there, he’d do his best to bring his game on whenever he could. he would learn how to gloss over his cracks, growing bigger and bigger, trying to achieve such an image that was given to him the day the company held a meeting with him and the other members. on stage, he’s packing all of his energy into his performances. off stage he’s not quite certain who he is, because it’s all jumbled and it’s thanks to his bandmates he doesn’t spiral out of control, even if they don’t always notice. he wasn’t alone anymore, that’s for sure.

#id.bio #id.midas #id.titanium #id.lee taeyong

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gavinbowman · 7 years

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2017

Finally taking stock for both December and for the last year as a whole... it was okay I guess. Certainly falls on the list of my worst years, but I feel like I’m probably heading in the right direction.

December was just kinda Meh. I managed to pick up the pace a little bit with work from time to time. Didn’t finish anything still. But I did make a sticker pack that I put in the App Store, so that was like almost a thing I actually did. I can’t bear to look and see if anyone bought it, but it was a nice feeling to actually be putting something out.

If nothing else it was a good dry run for updating and remastering artwork from our older mobile games. There’s a lot of it to do if I’m going to make anything new with similar themes, but I feel like I was getting pretty good at it after a day or so. Something to not look forward to in the next year or two though if I decide to give that a whirl.

Couldn’t make any progress on any of the games I’ve been actively working on in December, so I ended up breaking down and trying to make something fresh. Which mostly resulted in a lot more wasted time, but at least it was wasted time where I felt like maybe I was getting somewhere. Probably going to try making small games for a while though. I remember last year deciding to make fewer better games, and ending up not finishing anything because I never felt like I could finish them. I think I need to find my way to a middle ground, and I’m only going to do that by working my way through the entire process again, I’ve gotten too detached from the “finishing” and releasing bits that are oh so important over the last 2-3 years. That’s about all for December.

The last year on the whole.... argh. Well, we had a new baby. And two kids has been a phenomenal amount of work, I thought one was disruptive, but this has been on another level. It’s taken me a long time to feel good about prioritizing work time, find some good creative energy, feel physically capable, and then actually manage to carve out the windows to do it as well, having all those things happen on the same schedule is still a work in progress. So with the new kid and other stuff, we had some big personal windows this year that hit my production hard. Having legit obligations, plus being physically older and not really being able to just crank through the night or something, has definitely killed the last traces of the workaholic young indie in me... I think I mentioned in an earlier post that my approach to the work and scheduling still needs time to adapt to the new reality. When you still think you’re 20 or even 30 something and forget you have kids, you can easily map out a feature or plan over a few days or a week with stupid high expectations. When the reality hits and you’ve only done about 10% of it, you feel like shit, even though the big fault was in the expectation and planning and maybe not entirely in your effort or execution. It’s a mindfuck, and I’m still dealing with it, I don’t think that’ll go away for a year or two, unless we catch some breaks and I can craft out some clarity time at some point. Adapting to changing situations while on the move is probably not ideal... but even if the net result of not working is the same as the net result of trying to work in a fucked up headspace, actually not working is not really a luxury I feel like I can afford myself.

Actual activity this year, well, I released Zombie Free Throw early in the year on iOS and later on Android. And I did the iMessage Sticker pack in December. And I took down a lot of old apps (25 total), and there weren’t really any significant updates, we covered most of the 64bit style stuff in earlier years so we were ahead of that trend. 1 bug fix update for Sneezies on Apple TV, and a couple for Zombie Free Throw in the months after launch is all I can recall. I expect the takedown trend to continue this year and next. I feel like we’re winding down our older ones and transitioning them to kind of a legacy state. It’s weird because normally we’d be doing this while we have a new crop to replace them, but like I’ve mentioned many times, we’re a couple of years off track, so end of life stuff is starting to happen before they’ve been replaced and it’s weird and scary. I don’t see us in a situation with no apps anytime soon, I’m actually hoping to release new ones this year, but I would like to see a healthy transition to an all paid products situation over the next 4-5 years if that’s even remotely feasible. Maybe contract work too, that doesn’t feel like a bad thing, I’d like some time working on things we don’t have to market or operate afterwards. A paid game launch now and again backed by contract work sounds massively appealing compared to operating free apps in this climate. We’ll see how things go over the next couple of years, and where we end up. A run of bad or pointless mobile app launches, another few batches of takedowns... might start to look more attainable to transition to something else than to build a library of free apps back up anyway.

I was happy with Zombie Free Throw, and it did okay. If it’d been one of 12 apps I launched that did about the same give or take the breaks, maybe I’d be pretty happy with the year.

I need to step things up this year. I need to get some of the WIPs out from under me and move on from them. We need to finish making Monsters & Monocles as good as we can. There’s a lot to do and a lot could happen in the process. So I guess I’m optimistic about 2018? Personally, I probably need to move and shit, there’ll be other shit... there always is. But I’ll keep hacking away and see what comes.

In gaming, things picked up for me late in the year when I started making time to play, and when I started playing Zelda and Mario Odyssey. Those games are just so damn good I can’t even believe it. Especially Zelda. I’m playing it and I have no idea what I’m even doing, just running around picking mushrooms and crap, and it’s like a fucking dream the way it feels and it looks beautiful. I wish I’d started crafting out some game time earlier in the year when I first got the Switch. In all I managed to play 11 games to completion this year. It wasn’t a great year for me for gaming. I wasted a lot of time on Fire Emblem Heroes because it’s my one handed go to in many many baby scenarios. And I wasted far too much time playing through Fire Emblem Echoes on the 3DS... I wish I’d given up on that one and moved onto something else, it was just too grindy and long winded... down side of forcing myself to play through stuff once I get going, sometimes I don’t give up even when I know I should. The fact that I loved Awakenings so much and was excited to dig into a new game pushed me in too deep to quickly pivot off, and then the sunk costs just kept pushing me deeper into it. Shorter games this year. If I can stop playing Zelda and Mario at all.

That’s all for me for 2017, thanks for reading as always, and I hope to have more positive stuff to share each month in 2018. Cheer!

#playmore #devlog #tracking2017

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lalegumiste · 7 years

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Ch-ch-ch-changes!

The man may be gone but so glad the music is still with us! This is not about David Bowie, of course. It’s about change. And how well some of us may or may not accept it. Or how quickly or not we accept it. Or how intensely we begin to crave it after too many years of sameness or indecision. And how in the end we all adapt, one way or another. I just realized this is my hundredth post here, so the topic seems very apropos. It’s been waaay too long a time coming, and in the blogosphere, I believe I have achieved glacial pace. Although I’m pretty sure even glaciers these days are moving (errr, melting) faster than I do when updating this poor blog.

Change is the only sure thing, and for me, accepting that has always been problematic. I’m a little better about it these days, but it will probably continue to be a work in progress for as long as I’m around. Anyways, I had lots to say about it, and typed it all out here, but ultimately decided that part of the post would be better located after the jump. If you want to skip directly to the recipes(don’t blame you), they are after the jump as well, and clearly separated from this more meandering portion.

Moving on to some food related changes. I may have written about this before, but I can’t remember and do not want to go back through the posts and figure it out. I come from a place with lots of food traditions, most of them involving meat, which I no longer eat. One of the biggest feasts takes place at Easter, and other than the dyed eggs and dessert, pretty much every dish involves meat. As my ties to the proverbial old country are getting older (I mean that literally), I am becoming more intent in trying to preserve some of the old recipes, but changing them to vegetarian versions, so that I can, in the future, uphold at least some of the links to the place I came from.

And so this past Easter, I made two of the traditional dishes, and changed the recipes to be both meatless, in the case of one and to use available ingredients, in the case of the other.

The first dish is a savory one called drob. It’s hard to describe it exactly, the closest I can come is to say that it is somewhere between a quiche and a mince pie, with a lot of herbs. Traditionally, it uses no dough, relying instead on a large piece of lamb’s intestine to hold the whole thing together. The filling is made by finely chopping all of the lamb’s entrails and mixing them with a lot of chopped fresh parsley and dill. The top gets brushed with a beaten egg, and the whole thing is baked until the top begins to brown. I will say this for my people - they really subscribe to the waste not/ want not mentality. This is an example of that mentality applied to the Easter lamb - every bit of it gets eaten or used. Still, this didn’t help me any when I got a craving for this “pie,” since the only thing I’m interested in doing to a lamb anymore is petting it. The changed recipe contains absolutely no meat or entrails, relying instead only on mushrooms and eggs. And a very large amount of fresh herbs, because that’s where the flavor really comes from.

The second recipe is for a traditional Easter dessert called pasca, which is essentially a cheesecake, a well flavored but not terribly sweet one. The funny thing is, growing up I refused to touch it, preferring chocolate or sugar eggs for my festive sweets. Then when I went back to visit Romania as an adult, my godmother made something like pasca and after I tried it, I had to wonder why I’d refused it so strongly all those years ago. The traditional pasca is made with a fresh cow’s milk that I can’t purchase in the US. The dough, which is similar to the dough of the walnut cake we traditionally eat at both Easter and Christmas, is apparently very involved and temperamental, and so far I have been dissuaded from even attempting it. Even if, according to family lore, my paternal grandmother was a master at it. Of course, no one has her recipe. This very special dough is used both as a bottom and a top for the cheese filling of the pasca, but since I was not going to be using it, I decided to use only a bottom crust in my adaptation and opted for phyllo dough in order to keep it thin and end up with those crunchy brown edges. Obviously, I also changed the type of cheese.

Whether you read this far or skipped straight to the bottom, the recipes for both my vegetarian drob and cheesecake-like pasca are after the jump. I hope you enjoy them.

***

This is not about how I will change my ways, and be more diligent about posting here, and getting on a schedule, etc - because I already wrote about that, and obviously it did not work and now I feel a bit like an errant kid.

This is more about some changes I’ve encountered that may or may not be related to my lapse in posting. If nothing else, it might help me sort out some thoughts, and what else is a blog good for if not for brain dumping into the world?

First of all, I became very enthralled with Instagram. Obviously, my writing here is not of the highly edited and fact checked variety, but after getting used to how easy it is to just post a picture and add some hashtags, using an actual keyboard to write out thoughts, spending more than two minutes putting something together before posting, well, it started to feel more and more “involved.” Which I guess is not something I felt like being for a bit. So, one of the changes was that I started posting pictures on the gram box regularly, and stopped even attempting to write here.

Second, I think I hit some kind of writer’s block/ boredom/ disenchantment as far as writing about food was concerned. I just couldn’t think about anything food related that I wanted to write about. Yes, I know how pretentious and borderline stupid that sounds, but it’s the way I felt. I did not want to write about my take on the chia bowl, or my adventures with non wheat flour baking, although I engaged in both. I felt a little bit like no one around me was eating real food anymore, and while I continued to cook and eat (of course!), I didn’t have much to say about it. So I didn’t. And yes, I know this is in part to spending too much time on Instagram.

Third, I started to question the validity of my posting here. It used to be that this was just something I did for me, giving me an outlet for my thoughts and maybe a bit of practice at writing, because we all know practice makes perfect. Ha! But after a few months of instantaneous likes on my Instagram posts, I started to feel a little miffed at not getting the same response here. Good old tree falling in the forest dilemma. Not sure why I couldn’t get past it, since it didn’t bother me before, but, there you have it.

Of course, after the extensive, although believe me, not exhaustive, rant, I guess I could have kept it a lot shorter and to the point: I’ve been neglecting my blog because of Instagram! But it’s never been my way to be quick and to the point, so I see no point in editing down this rant.

***

Vegetarian Easter Pie (Drob)

1 lb mixed mushrooms (such as shiitake, cremini, oyster, button), finely chopped

1 bunch fresh dill, finely chopped

1 bunch parsley finely chopped

3 scallions, finely chopped

1 onion, finely chopped

2 hard boiled eggs, diced small

2 eggs well beaten

1 t fresh ground pepper

2 t salt, more to taste as needed

2 T olive oil

1 T butter

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

Chop all the mushrooms, including stems, and place together in a large bowl.

Chop the parsley and dill and place together in a bowl.

Heat the olive oil and butter in a large saute pan over medium heat. Add the chopped onion and scallions and cook until softened, about 2-3 minutes.

Add the mushrooms and salt, stir to combine, and cook until the mushrooms have released all their moisture and any liquid has evaporated, about 5 minutes.

Add the dill, parsley and chopped hard boiled egg and stir to combine.

Remove from heat.

Beat the two eggs and add to the mixture, stirring to incorporate. Add salt and pepper and stir to combine, adding more salt if desired.

Coat the bottom and sides of a 9 inch pie dish with butter.

Pour the mushroom mixture into the pie dish and bake for 35 minutes or until the top begins to brown and the edges of the pie begin to come away from the pie dish.

Let cool to room temperature. Slice and serve with a green leafy salad - my favorite is torn butter lettuce leaves, red onion, and a simple red wine vinaigrette.

Cheesecake-like Pasca

1 32 oz container ricotta

1 oz cream cheese

1.5 T sour cream (optional)

4 eggs

1 cup raisins

4 t sugar

3.5 t vanilla sugar

zest from one lemon

rum (optional) or water

5 sheets phyllo dough

2 T butter, melted

*Note: This is less sweet than a typical cheesecake, although the raisins provide added pops of sweetness. You may want to taste the mixture after adding them to decide if you want to add more sugar than the recipe calls for.

Bring the rum to a low simmer over medium low heat. Remove from heat and pour over raisins in a small bowl, enough to cover the raisins with liquid. Cover with a small plate and set aside to steep, at least an hour. Drain the raisins very well in a fine mesh strainer. Follow the same steps with water if using instead of rum.

Preheat oven to 380 degrees F.

In a large bowl, using a hand mixer on low speed, mix together the cheeses, sour cream (if using), sugars and lemon zest.

Beat the eggs in, one at a time, until well incorporated.

Stir in the well drained raisins. Set mixture aside.

Brush the bottom and sides of a low 10 inch pie dish with melted butter. Layer a sheet of phyllo dough in the dish, centering it as well as possible, and press lightly so the dough adheres to the dish. Brush with melted butter, turn the dish slightly clockwise, and repeat with the next sheet of phyllo, brushing with butter again. Repeat until all phyllo sheets are in the dish and brushed with butter. Trim any excessive overhang around the pie dish, but leave some in order to be able to fold it around the filling.

Gently pour the cheese mixture into the prepared pie dish. Going around the pie dish, fold any phyllo overhang, almost as if braiding it over the edge of the filling, to create a bit of a decorative element. Brush the top of this braid with some melted butter.

Bake for 40 to 55 minutes, until the edges of the dough are browned, and the filling has become solid and slightly puffed.

Remove from oven, allow to cool to room temperature, slice and serve. It may take a while for the pie to cool to room temperature.

#change #easter #traditions #romanian #main dish #dessert #mushrooms #cheescake #raisins #herbs #vegetarian

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